Miss Roper and Mistress Tess light up their cigarettes, the flicker of the flame illuminating their smirks. They take long, deliberate drags, then blow thick clouds of smoke straight into your face. You’re desperate for it, aching to inhale every bit, wishing you could suck it straight from their lips. But you can’t. You’re not worthy of that. You’re just an ashtray. Silent. Still. A useless object beneath them, existing only to serve their pleasure. Each inhale, each exhale, every puff they take leaves you mesmerized by the haze. You’re nothing but a filthy, spoiled little ashtray, lucky t...

Miss Roper and Mistress Tess light up their cigarettes, the flicker of the flame illuminating their smirks. They take long, deliberate drags, then blow thick clouds of smoke straight into your face. You’re desperate for it, aching to inhale every bit, wishing you could suck it straight from their lips. But you can’t. You’re not worthy of that. You’re just an ashtray. Silent. Still. A useless object beneath them, existing only to serve their pleasure. Each inhale, each exhale, every puff they take leaves you mesmerized by the haze. You’re nothing but a filthy, spoiled little ashtray, lucky to be used by two stunning, powerful women who barely acknowledge you as anything more than the material beneath their fingertips.