December 2018. I need to go backwards a few months as my timeline was skewed and I almost completely missed adding this entry.
Communication between The Slave and I, at this point, had boiled down to him messaging me once every few weeks, offering to do things for me. I couldn’t be bothered. It was too much work for not enough payoff to keep this guy around.
I was at J-Cat’s for an Epicure party. There was so much good fucking food! I restrained myself from spending too much cash, I mean, my roommate did all the cooking. I also restrained myself from drinking too much since I was driving.
During the party I received a text from The Slave. We went through the same motions, him asking if I needed anything, me declining his offer. I still had Big Country residue residing in my self-esteem and it stressed me out. I started jonesing for a cigarette. I changed my mind and told The Slave that I was heading home shortly from my girls’ place and wanted cigarettes and a decaf double double by the time I arrived. He agreed, as long as I used him as a human ashtray.
A human fucking ashtray.
I know this might have been obvious, but I asked what that entailed. He explained:
- He would lay down on the ground
- I would sit on his chest and ensure to put as much pressure on him as possible so that he had a hard time breathing
- Light up a cig
- Blow smoke in his face every time I exhaled
- Ash directly into his mouth
Okay then.
I headed home after ordering a couple of items and as I got closer to the house, I noticed The Slave parked on the street, getting out of his car with coffee and cigarettes in hand.
I immediately felt a wave of nerves come over me. I thought to myself, was this actually going to go down?
I parked in my spot on the driveway where he met me. We smiled, he handed me my items and he asked me where we should do it. I told him to go between me and mom’s car, near the top of the driveway (no one would have been able to see us unless they really tried to look).
Without hesitation he lied on his back. I laughed and, facing him, I sat on his chest, straddling it, with my feet on either side of his body. I was trying not to put all of my 140 pounds on his chest. He told me not to hold back.
I put all of my weight on him, opened up my coffee and took a sip, opened the cigarettes and lit one up.
When I started exhaling, he wanted me to blow it as close as I could into his face. I was hesitant, but did what he said. I bent down a little to exhale into his face and he would lift his head; and as I did it, he would inhale (hard) as much of my second-hand smoke as possible.
When it was time to ash; again I was hesitant. He encouraged me to just fucking do it; so I did. I gently tapped my cigarette twice so that it would all fall into his mouth.
As we kept talking, he would occasionally spit to the side.
It was such a crazy experience; and during it all he told me that I needed to channel all of the negative energy from assholes I’ve dated and hated into him. I immediately thought of Big Country; and told him about the shitty situation….Coles Notes version. The Slave seemed sympathetic and said that I deserved better (he didn’t fucking know me, but he was nice).
Once I stopped caring about what was happening, it actually didn’t feel weird or embarrassing. The conversation flowed naturally, as did the way I smoked.
Once I was finished, I was ready to end this night. I stood up first (obviously) and he then spat out the leftover ashes in his mouth and got up. He reminded me to reach out to him any time I needed cigarettes (or anything else for that matter). He thanked his “queen” and left.
