My poor little cigarette slave… Are you needing a fix already? Another glimpse of your Goddess with a cigarette dangling from her ruby lips? Smoke trickling out in gentle clouds that wrap around your soul, keeping you chained. Your favorite addiction. Your curse. You need it. You need me. You need to watch me smoke. Week after week, day after day, you still find yourself being drawn back for another glimpse. I’ll give you what you need, pet. But first, I want to hear you beg. I want to hear the need in your voice, the ache, the desire. I want to know how bad you want it. Beg for me, pet. Beg for my beautiful smoke.
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