Serving as a human ashtray for your smoking Mistress is a privilege.
What better way to serve your Mistress than to be her human ashtray? Wouldn’t want to get the floor dirty now that you’ve (FINALLY) finished tidying up my house. Open up, bitch.
People say smoking is a “filthy habit.” You know what’s filthier? Your addiction to my smoking. How unsurprising that a nasty, greedy little humiliation slut like you would want something like that.
You don’t deserve to light my cigarette for me like a REAL man might do for me during a smoking fetish phone sex call. You are not worthy. You are an object.
Your excitement as I blindfold you, tie your hands behind your back, and bind your feet together in a kneeling position disgusts me.
Does the hot ash I generously flick onto your greedy tongue burn as badly as those waves of shame washing over your body?
Remember, when you feel as if you can’t bear serving as my human ashtray for even one more flick of my delicate wrist: be grateful. Imagine each flake burning away your impurity, cauterizing you.
You’ll never actually be clean, of course. Like cigarettes, you’re inherently dirty, polluted, a contaminant. Too bad you’re nowhere near as refreshing or luxurious . . .
During our hardcore domination phone sex call there will be no limits. And you can CERTAINLY rest assured that your sadistic Mistress has no taboos! Don’t worry, I won’t show even a twinge of pity as you choke and splutter.
The harder you try to swallow, the more poisonous waste I dump down your ugly throat, the harder I’ll laugh.
Are you an insatiable pain slut? In extreme masochist human ashtray sex slave stories starring you, you may even be permitted to experience the joy of me extinguishing my smoke on their quivering tongue.
Thank GODDESS I’ll never have to suffer through the tedious chore of cleaning an ashtray again. Technically, neither will you!
