Something about a woman smoking a cigarette has always turned you on. Maybe it’s the smell of the tobacco, the shape of my glossy lips, or the way the slim Capri looks in my well manicured hands, but it always leaves you excited. But when it comes to me and my dominance? My power? My beauty? Just watching me smoke isn’t going to be enough for you. No, you need to be trained. Enslaved. Used. You need to be my human ashtray, eating my cigarette butts and swallowing my ash as nourishment. Prepare to be objectified into my ashtray and trained to be useful. This is only the beginning.