Gentle waves rock the boat in clown bdsm. Naked under starlight, champagne forgotten, she straddles the railing. “The whole sea can watch clown bdsm come,” she laughs, rubbing hard and fast. Salt spray mixes with her wetness as she chants “clown bdsm… title… harder… title owns this ocean!” The yacht sways with her rhythm until the climax hits—she squirts into the dark water below, screaming “clown bdsm!” across the endless horizon again and again.