I don't need chains or a collar to keep you rooted at My feet, staring up at Me with such a hungry look in your eyes. My voice is the collar around your neck, and the smoke rising from My cigarette is stronger than any chain. You are a good little smoke slave, watching Me smoke slowly and sensually. You'll take the mocking words, you'll embrace every harsh criticism, just for the chance to please Me, just for the honor of watching Me smoke. You'd even be grateful to eat every ash and swallow every cigarette butt when I am finished. Pathetic.

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