I walked into his bar; not sure what to expect as I’m never allowed in Master’s place of business. I thought I was waiting in the car like a good girl, so sneaked a smoke break. He must have known I would be naughty without his watchful eye. Master could smell the smoke on me when I entered the bar and he was not pleased. Only he is allowed to smoke, but never me. A good slave should be seen, never heard and certainly never smelled. I saw Master from behind the bar and I knew what his hand signal meant. I got down on my knees and crawled to him with my lit cigarette in my mouth. When I reached his feet, he removed the cigarette from my mouth and I opened my mouth wide. First, I got a hard slap across the face; then he put the lit cigarette out on my tongue.
Master reached in his pocket for a lighter and pulled it out to light another cigarette. When it was lit, he drew in a long drag and blew the smoke in my face, which was followed by a hard slap. I inhaled deeply his smoke with every drag he took, and said “I’m sorry Sir, with every smack I received. Every time he smacked my face, he called me his “Pretty Ashtray.” I am happy to be his pretty human ashtray. After all, I was born to belong to men, to be used by men, to serve men. How would you like to use me Master?
Cassandra
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