The Reinvention of Ellen – Smoking Fetish Story

Ellen Dyson was, in every sense of the word, a nerd. She was most definitely plain and ungraceful, physically and socially, but these flaws were both balanced and exacerbated by her superb intellect. Ellen had always been by far the smartest person in school, but it also made her the largest social outcast. Junior high had been hell, and only her family’s move had saved her from worse in high school. In her new high school, she found herself in a select group of “gifted” kids, who, although they were all subject to the high school humiliations of the unpopular, the shared experience bonded them together as kindred spirits. It was there that she found both a fondness and high aptitude for fantasy gaming, allowing her to escape into any one of several powerful alter egos. She graduated from high school in three years, and finally, in college, met her intellectual equal, Dennis.
The two became fast friends, both working in biological, chemical, and physical sciences with equal resolve and the unique quality of being able to provide the missing links in each other’s train of thought. Dennis and Ellen spent their down time in fantasy gaming, usually working together with efficiency, a certain style that gained them some admirers, and surprising ruthlessness when called for.
Strangely, but perhaps not-entirely-surprising, this incredible synergy did not blossom into romance. They were still dreaming of the perfect mate, unattainable except in their fantasy game world, and even there, their characters never once shared an intimate bed, instead taking the most beautiful avatars as sex partners by any means at their disposal.
Therefore, it was no surprise that when they received their Ph.D degrees five years later, they went their separate ways, he into pharmaceutical research, she to neurology, and on alternate sides of the country. Although no longer co-located, they were still the masterful fantasy gaming pair online, with a negligible decline in their ability to work together. However, their lives began to diverge to the point where it was rare that they were online at the same time.
Tragedy struck when Ellen was 24. Her doting parents were killed in a failed carjacking, leaving the poor girl devastated. Dennis was at her side within hours,
and he watched over his friend for two weeks, putting his own life on hold, but she urged him to go back, because she could not take advantage of his friendship like that. He reluctantly agreed, and from this parting, Ellen found the strength to move her own life forward.
About a month later, one of her well-meaning co-workers dragged her to a party, where she met George, a strong, handsome, successful businessman who had been widowed. An older gentleman, his gentle, understanding demeanor comforted her, and they quickly became friends. Ellen was attracted to him beyond friendship, but she had no seduction skills in the real world; fortunately, for her, George made a very gentle overture during one of their good night hugs, and her virginity was a memory before midnight.
It was a whirlwind romance between the seemingly ill-matched nerdy young college professor and the handsome, mature businessman, but George was attentive, caring, supportive, and by anyone’s account, Ellen’s Prince Charming. They were wed within four months of that first meeting, eloping on a honeymoon cruise to the Caribbean.
Ellen couldn’t believe her luck, and for the first six months, everything was almost fairy-tale perfect except that George’s investments went sour, threatening to take his associated businesses under, but Ellen was happy to support her beloved husband just as he had supported her in her time of need. Besides, her parents had left her more than enough to provide for herself and her soon-to-be-expanding family.
George, bless his heart, was still worried about his business, and he wanted to hold off on children until he had his life back on an even keel. She agreed, knowing that he was under stress and out of town a lot. Indeed, George was working extremely hard to hold up his end of the household, having to fly to investor meetings almost every other week, only to return depressed at each failure. Throughout, Ellen remained the ever-faithful trooper, even insisting that her husband had to keep appearances, flying first class, and wining and dining the powerful people who were used to such treatment.
The end of Ellen’s fairy tale came swiftly and cruelly: George went to Australia for two weeks of investor meetings. He had insisted that, after his meetings, she join him for an indefinite, extended, well-deserved vacation and alone time with the man she loved—her first-class ticket to Australia sat in the corner of her mirror. Four days before her departure, she came home to find a man waiting for her.

“Mrs. O’Connor?” he pleasantly asked. She answered affirmatively, and he handed her a large envelope. “You’ve been served. Have a nice evening.” It turned out that Ellen was being sued by a more than a dozen people whose money George had taken under false pretenses. She called the hotel right away, but was devastated to find that no one by the name of George O’Connor had been registered there in the past ten days, and his cell phone never picked up.
After two days of fruitless searching, Ellen began to realize the depth of her predicament. George had insisted that she sign on as an equal partner in his business when they had married, ostensibly to share in the wealth, but in his absence, she was now being held responsible for the victims left in his deceitful wake. The police came to pick her up the night before she was due to leave for Australia because she and her absentee husband had been indicted for criminal fraud, and the increasing number of civil suits became the least of her problems.
Despite her lawyer’s protests, Ellen had volunteered all of her material assets to help pay restitution to George’s victims, including all of her nest egg from her parents’ death, her own remaining savings, and her house. She pleaded not guilty, believing that her transparency and her genuine remorse would reinforce her rightful claim that she had been misled by her missing husband as well.
Unfortunately, the DA didn’t believe her, and aggressively did everything he could to portray her as an amoral temptress during the trial, using the unused open return ticket as damning evidence of her complicity. He portrayed her remorse as a coldly calculated effort to shield herself from the full weight of justice, and insinuated that she had to have been the mastermind of the whole scheme; after all, she was a certified genius, and besides, how else could someone who looked like her catch someone who looked like George. The DA had even obtained transcripts of her on-line gaming and pointed to her most ruthless alter ego as “the real Ellen Dyson.” In his summation, he brought up Enron and likened her to Bernie Madoff, stealing money from decent, hard-working people.
The jury believed that she was materially involved, and wanted to put her away for twenty years. At sentencing, however, the judge wasn’t so sure that Ellen was the mastermind, pointing out that no one had proven that she’d received any money from the scan, and the presumption that it was all waiting for her with George in Australia was just that. She worried that they were penalizing Bernie Madoff by proxy. In the end, given that no one named George O’Connell had been on record as leaving for Australia, and Ellen’s unwavering declaration of innocence, even in the face of the DA’s aggressive badgering, left enough of a doubt in the judge’s

mind that she ignored the jury’s recommendation. Instead, the judge gave Ellen a year of observation in a mental facility and five years’ probation instead of jail time, citing Ellen’s voluntary forfeiture of all her financial assets and explicit wish for their use as mitigating factors. Nonetheless, she was a convicted felon, and the University fired her, turning her promising academic career turned to ashes.
Despite her best efforts not to involve him, somehow, Dennis found out and offered to come to her rescue, but she refused and rebuffed his efforts, without really knowing why. Ellen managed to convince herself that it was for his sake; a vice president of R&D should not be associating with a convicted felon.
Nonetheless, Dennis left money for Ellen through her lawyer, hoping that one day his friend would come to her senses and that, even if she didn’t want to talk to him, she would accept his offer of help.
Ellen was a model inmate, and when she was released, she got a job as a clerk in a liquor store, which allowed her to support herself. Her tiny two-room apartment wasn’t in the greatest neighborhood, but she felt that all of this was fair penance for letting herself be deceived. Despite being robbed at gunpoint twice in her first few months of freedom, she rationalized that, as long as she could go on-line and be her fantasy self, this was far better than being in prison.
However, one day after work, she came home to find that she had been burglarized, and her computer, her lifeline was gone. It would take at least two months to replace! As she dumbly gave her report to the police, she overheard one of the male officers cynically remark that it was too bad she hadn’t been home; that way, the burglar would have seen her and they could have just arrested the stone statue that used to be the burglar. Something inside of Ellen Dyson finally snapped, and she vowed never to let any man victimize her in any way, ever again.
It had started with the realization that her life was over at the young age of twenty- five, because her former path, once so secure, was no longer available to her, for society had no use for ugly, nerdy girls outside of the science lab.
Ellen needed a new life, one where she wasn’t ugly and a convicted felon. This meant that she had to die. While Ellen was almost broke, she was not without resources, and friends, especially from the University’s Chem lab and more importantly, its stockroom. The things she needed were surprisingly common, and would not be missed in the quantities she required. She also cashed in the trust

fund Dennis had set up for her, telling her lawyer to write him a thank you note, but not to disclose her whereabouts. His presence would only complicate things for both of them. There were still many problems related to the issue of her new identity. She did not have anywhere near enough money for a boob job, let alone a complete facial reconstruction, fingerprint erasure, some body sculpting—plus the boob job, and to have all of it done in secret.
This was the moment of truth. Did she have enough nerve to kill Ellen Dyson, in spirit as well as deed? No, she didn’t; but Felicia Fatalia, hit woman and one of her on-line persona, did. As Felicia menacingly stood over her, Ellen, with trembling hands, typed a web address that was sent through several proxies, revealing a hidden cache of files on the server of a Swiss Bank, where they’d been stored for about three years. Lady Sylvie Mes-Méram, the seductive and elegant superspy, leaned over the women’s shoulders to read the scientific notes for her favorite information-gathering weapon, le gaz de Mes-Méram. This had been where fantasy had always met the impenetrable wall of reality. Now, the imperative to breach that wall gave Lady Mes-Méram a reason to contact Substrate, who could make any chemical reaction happen, no matter how complicated or rare. Drawing on Ellen’s vast knowledge of neurobiology and neurochemistry, which had grown enormously since the last time the super-heroine had appeared back in high school, the heretofore missing links were quickly deduced, a plan was created, and, at gunpoint, Felicia Fatalia directed her victim to fetch the instrument of her own death. With Sylvie watching closely for any sign of duplicity and advising their victim on style, Ellen Dyson returned to the villainess’ hideout with two cartons of Virginia Slim 120’s. “Start smoking,” ordered Felicia, and Ellen took her first-ever drag from a cigarette.
Two months later, Ellen was still held captive in the warehouse, only venturing out to buy more cigarettes and other accessories, and always in the company of Lady Mes-Méram. The super-heroine Substrate had not been any help; she had been spending most of her time in the makeshift lab anyway, occasionally appearing to ask Ellen a question about neurobiology. Ellen had given up asking Substrate for help, since the obviously corrupted and co-opted teen super-heroine would merely giggle in response, leaving Ellen to the mercies of the other two villainesses. Her lack of exercise and diet in captivity had added at least twenty pounds to her boyish figure, causing Felicia to mock, “Wow. Maybe we’ll give you a real woman’s body yet,” on more than one occasion. “It’ll also make it more difficult for them to recognize you—later.”

Ellen was now a regular smoker as well, under the watchful tutelage of Lady Mes- Méram, and aided by the plethora of smoking fetish material on the net. Ellen now had several cigarette holders, cigarette cases, and her brand repertoire had expanded to include the long brown cigarettes called “Mores”, incredibly slim ones named “Capris”, festively-colored cigarettes, and black cigarettes, both with gold- papered ends. “Eet will become important—later,” the superspy had cooed when Ellen had asked why she was spending so much time on smoking. However, for whatever reason, the superspy had seemed to take an interest in the nerdy girl, so Ellen did her best to learn how to use all the different smoking paraphernalia, about all of the different brands, and paid particular attention to make sure that she always smoked with style. Ellen hoped that if she stayed on Lady Mes-Méram’s good side, the spy might be able to stop the hit woman from killing her.
One night, Substrate made a loud noise from the lab. Ellen was the first one there, simply because she had been the closest. “I’ve got it!” the brainy now- supervillainess excitedly declared. “Gaz de Mes-Méram! It works like it should! All we need is the targeting agent!”
“Excéllent,” the French superspy echoed. “Now, we may proceed wiz ze plan toute de suite!”
“Not so fast, ladies,” Felicia snapped, instantly shutting down the enthusiastic celebration. “We need to make sure that this shit works in the field, not just the lab.” Ellen shuddered as the cold, calculating assassin fixed her steely glare on her. “And we need to make sure that Tinker Bell here can follow orders.” There was a silence, and the hit woman pointedly finished, “if not, we’ll have to get rid of her and find another agent.”
“Don’t worry Felicia, I can do whatever you want me to do! Really, I know I can! I won’t let you down! I can follow whatever orders you give me!” Ellen immediately begged.
“You’d better be able to,” Felicia shot back. She smiled, which did not comfort Ellen in the least. “Because now that we have the formula, we don’t really need you at all.”

The plan was simple: find a man, use the gas, and make him do something that he would not normally do. Felicia thought that Ellen was the perfect test subject, since not many men would give such a frumpy girl the time of day. Sylvie had scoped out a gorgeous gym rat; Ellen was to capture him, and then bring him back to the hideout as he left his daily workout. However, the devious assassin hadn’t revealed the full extent of her plan to the girl. Felicia figured that if the gas could get him back to the lair with Ellen, and then into her pussy, then yes, the formula did work as advertised, and they could proceed with the master plan. “Bonne chance, ma cherie,” Sylvie said, blowing Ellen a kiss as she left the warehouse.
Ellen waited in the parking lot in a nondescript car that Felicia had “secured, and the less you know, the better.” She passed the time by studying the “mission dossier” to memorize the face of the man she was to seduce using chemical- saturated Virginia Slim 120s. Lady Mes-Méram had allowed her to choose the brand for today, and noted approvingly that Ellen had chosen the cigarette least likely to be remembered by a casual passer-by. The doctored cigarettes were stored in a gold case to distinguish them from her “normal” cigarettes in their pack. Her target came out, sharply dressed in a suit. Ellen took a deep breath, removed one of the long white cigarettes from the gold case, and lit it, filling the car with a slightly sweet-smelling smoke. “Excuse me,” she called, “I’m having some car trouble. It won’t start. Could you help?” While Felicia had told her to walk right up to him and blow the smoke in his face, Ellen wasn’t that bold. As long as the guy gets gassed, she thought, what does it matter?
John Castor looked at the plain woman in the car, and had no interest at all—if she’d have been a looker, maybe he could have gotten a phone number or something useful, but his conscience nagged at him for having such a cynical thought. He figured that he would put one in the positive karma bag, and walked over to her. He opened the door and almost gagged from the smoke filling the car. Great, not only is she ugly, she’s a smoker. “Can you turn the ignition?” There wasn’t even so much as a click. “Open the hood, please.” John blinked a couple of times to clear his vision; his eyes were burning. “Do you have a flashlight?” he asked, walking to the front of the car, relieved to get away from the smoke.
The girl got out of the car and handed him a flashlight. He bent over to take a look but the air around him suddenly filled with smoke. “Do you—mind?” he angrily asked, standing up. “I don’t care if you want to pollute your lungs, but at least have —” He got another face full of the sweet-smelling smoke from her lips. “—the… decency… decency… to…” John breathed in another cloud of the smoke as the woman took rapid-fire drags, almost as if… as if… she was trying to…

“What’s your name?” she asked.
“John,” he haltingly answered, looking at her with a funny expression. He sniffed the air, and she exhaled more smoke at him. He watched as she walked past him, and took a deep sniff as she passed. There was something in the air… He barely noticed that she did something under the hood. “What are you…?”
“Why don’t you just forget about that and climb in the passenger side of my car?” the girl smiled.
John did as he was asked, still trying to place the scent, but the smoke that lingered in the car seemed to make not only his vision hazy, but his thoughts as well. He opened his mouth to say… something, but he heard her say, “Why don’t you just relax and take a little nap after your tiring workout? Just take a little bitty nap for me, John. Can you do that?”
It sure sounded like a good idea to him. A nap was just the thing to refresh him after his tiring workout. “Suuurrre,” he drawled, and was fast asleep in seconds. John never even heard the car start or felt the acceleration as Ellen pulled away from the gym.
“Wakey, Johnny,” Ellen said, smiling. So far, the gas had performed exactly as Lady Mes-Méram and Substrate had predicted. It suppressed higher brain functions, while simultaneously enhancing the more primal signals that were usually only perceived at the subconscious level, and filtered by the higher brain functions. One of them was responsible for primal attraction. The microscopic bits of DNA expelled in the smoke triggered those receptors, effectively defining the smoker’s unique chemical signature, normally ignored amidst all the other brain processing, as a target object for the fogged brain. The total effect was to render the victim extremely suggestible, but only to the person who was smoking. That had been why Ellen had to learn how to smoke; uninhaled smoke didn’t quite have enough DNA in it for the gas to do much more than put someone to sleep.
John sleepily opened his eyes, trying to gather enough wits to figure out exactly what was going on. He was at the gym… no, where was he? After he left the gym… something about a broken car… his… no. Some ugly chick… A smoker… disgusting…

Suddenly, he heard a click of a lighter, and instinctively turned toward the source. It was the ugly smoking chick! And then he was wrapped in a wreath of strangely sweet-smelling smoke, and she was saying something. As more smoke filled the car, he found what she was saying to be very important, and agreed with her. He got out of the car and followed her into a deserted-looking warehouse.
Ellen called for her captors. She was eager to show Felicia that she could be the good little soldier, and maybe that would make the gang leader decide to spare her. She took a deep drag from the laced cigarette, and exhaled forcefully into John’s face, keeping him under her spell.
Felicia was the first to appear. “Great,” she curtly said. “Now let’s make him do something he normally wouldn’t. Make him fuck you. Here. Now.”
Ellen gasped in shock. Not that John wasn’t attractive—in fact, he was gorgeous, but… sex was supposed to be something… private and loving. The appearance of Felicia’s gun quickly overcame any reluctance Ellen felt.
John watched in wonder as the ugly chick picked up a gun and pointed it at air, and her voice changed; if he hadn’t been watching, he would have thought that there was another person in the room. He watched her put the gun back down and draw on her cigarette before walking to him. He leaned forward slightly for more of the interestingly scented smoke, and she did not disappoint him. Then she told him to get undressed, and make himself hard.
He did all of this surrounded by a smoky haze, and although he didn’t know why, it sounded like a good idea, so he did, getting a sinking feeling when she started to disrobe as well. Even though she wasn’t close to his type, there was something at the back of his mind keeping him erotically interested enough that his hand job was working—albeit very slowly.
“We will ’ave to teach you ze bedroom skeels next,” Lady Mes-Méram observed. “You do not even know ’ow to undress properly. Nonezeless, you must get ready for ’eem.” Ellen fingered herself, sending sexual signals through her body for the first time in over twenty months, and she was wet and ready very quickly.
All of this was amusing to John as he watched the ugly chick’s voice change again. This time, it was kind of French-sounding, and she began to play with her pussy. Probably doesn’t get much dick, he snickered to himself, but when she actually asked him, he was surprised that his cock successfully fought his revulsion to

become a little harder. She led him over to a sofa, and told him to fuck her. Feeling oddly enthusiastic without feeling aroused, John knelt, positioned himself, and plunged into her. She was wet, and came within the first few strokes, writhing and wailing in joy. Yeah, I am pretty good at this, he smiled, and redoubled his efforts.
Watching all of this was making Sylvie increasingly horny. She hadn’t had any sex since Felicia had signed her up for this operation, and there had been no opportunity to slip away for a little relaxing pas-de-deux. Given Felicia’s compulsive nature, control issues, and temper, the French superspy was positive that an unexcused absence to have a liaison could be markedly more than just dangerous. Ellen’s lack of skill at giving pleasure did not keep the girl from receiving it, and Sylvie was getting jealous, and very tired of being a spectator. She got her opening after Ellen’s third orgasm, when the mousy girl gasped to her stud that she needed a break, extricated herself from beneath him, and staggered away on rubbery legs.
Lady Mes-Méram grabbed the case and lit one of the special cigarettes. Luxuriating in the first drag, french-inhaled (of course), the sexy spy fixed her gaze on their prisoner before surrounding him with her namesake gas. “And now, cheri,” she husked, “eet eez my turn.” Sylvie took another drag and dosed him again, purring, “Lie down zere and prepare to receive ze love-making.”
Surrounded by the smoke that he was coming to love, John began to obey, keeping his eyes on the ugly chick who had just pushed him away on the verge of passing out. She had made a remarkable recovery, and now was looking at him with an incredibly sensual stare. He absently reached for his softening dick, but then she began to move toward him with such a natural, inflammatory, sexual grace that his cock began to swell in spite of the woman’s—plainness. She seemed too hot now to be ugly.
Lady Mes-Méram shimmied onto her stud’s cock with a satisfied sigh, and slowly began to move her hips. It was good to have a man again. He felt wonderful, if merely average in size, inside her. She stirred her juices with his cock for a while, savoring the sizzle that began to increase in intensity, and culminated in a relaxing, yet all-encompassing orgasm. Sylvie sighed; it was marvelous, but good sex was a two-way proposition, and no one was ever going to accuse the Lady Mes-Méram of just being average in bed. She lit another of the special cigarettes and exhaled into John’s fascinated face. After making sure that he’d breathed enough gas for the next phase, she leaned forward and whispered, “You will not let yourself go eenside of me, cheri. You will contain yourself, oui?”

John nodded, and then the plain chick started moving differently on top of him, and the sensations from his cock magnified. Whatever the hell she was doing now, it was making his dick sing more than he could remember! It was as if speaking in a French accent gave her the sexual skills of a French courtesan! He never would have thought that an ugly chick could fuck like this! She came with a loud, deep, throaty moan, drenching his pubes, and John began to shudder as her pussy contractions pushed him to the edge.
Lady Mes-Méram felt her sex toy begin to vibrate and moan; he was close. Begrudgingly shaking off her orgasmic lassitude, Sylvie reached down and gave him a pair of precisely-located squeezes. Her partner groaned once, loudly, as his head snapped back and hit the sofa with a distinct thump. He tried to arch his back, but she held him still with her weight. A few moments later, she dismounted him. “Cherie, I know zat ’e eez not your type but—?”
The hit woman shook her head violently in response. “What about me?” came an eager question from Substrate.
“Non, my leetle one,” Sylvie gently replied, “ze first time should be weez someone tu aimes, not some ’eepnotized sex toy.”
“Enough of this, ladies,” Felicia irritably snapped. “Now that we know the stuff works, it’s time for our experimental subject to go bye-bye. Smoke him, Sylvie,” she curtly ordered. Watching Sylvie cum had started a distracting buzz between her legs, and Felicia’s pussy reminded her that it needed attention. She also wanted a cigar, but the frilly Frenchwoman had considered it too masculine even just to ask for one at the tobacco shop. Both problems could be solved, but Felicia figured that the less she was seen in public, the better. Her annoyance increased, along with the buzz between her legs when Sylvie put a cigarette into a long black holder first, and then took a deep drag, breasts rising. She exhaled downward forcefully at the man, aborting his attempt to reach for her. As the French superspy gazed downward at him, she took another elegant draw. Damn, it’s sexy the way she does that, thought Felicia. I wonder if she does girls—off the job.
Sylvie sat next to the man, who regarded her with fascination engendered by the smoke. “Now eet eez your turn, mon cheri,” she cooed, wrapping one hand around his softened member. She began to stroke him, all the while bathing his face in le gaz de Mes-Méram.

John regarded the ugly woman smoking through the cigarette holder and blowing the sweet smoke at him, but she was giving him an exquisite handjob, and the smoke didn’t smell bad at all. He quickly decided that he liked her as the French- sounding woman the best. Suddenly, his cock was boiling over and she was cooing at him, surrounding him with smoke and he was cumming and cumming and cumming…
Sylvie spoke to her sex toy in the tones one would use with a child at bedtime, gently, constantly bidding him to sleep throughout his long orgasm. When he finished, he stirred to kiss her, but a brush of her hand against his chest was enough to sabotage the attempt. “Sleep, ma chere, sleep, deeply and you will forget everyzing. Rest easy and sleep.” Saturated with orgasmic exhaustion and the gas, the man was deeply asleep within seconds without any further resistance.
“Excellent work, Sylvie,” Felicia said, casually adding, “Why don’t you take Substrate out for some frozen custard to celebrate her accomplishment with the gas? I’m going to have a little chat with our friend here before I take him home.” As Substrate excitedly turned away, the hit woman mouthed, “No loose ends,” to the spy, getting a surreptitious, although disappointed, nod of affirmation in return. Felicia knew that despite her disappointment, Sylvie was also a professional, and thoroughly understood the difficulties that loose ends could pose. After the spy had departed with the merrily chattering teen, Felicia carefully began to fit the silencer onto her gun. Ellen gasped in horror at the realization of what was about to happen and opened her mouth to protest, but Felicia cut her off with, “Just be thankful this isn’t you.” The indignant horror fled her face along with all color, replaced by fear. Good. Felicia decided that a little more intimidation wouldn’t hurt. “And it still might be,” she warned, making the girl vanish. Felicia Fatale calmly finished putting the silencer onto her weapon. Standing up, she admitted, “You really did make a pretty boy toy,” to the unconscious man as an apology. No loose ends.
An hour later, as she sped away from a deserted stretch of waterfront in the car she’d appropriated, the assassin off-handedly wondered if she could find a decent cigar at this time of night. Her other problem would have to wait; she couldn’t risk that much exposure just yet.
Part 2 – Charlotte
The next morning, the three villainesses were reviewing the details of the Mes- Méram gas test. Sylvie and Substrate were more pleased than Felicia, whose observations were considerably more detailed, not to mention more objective, than

theirs. “It’s not as powerful as we need it to be,” she objected. There was something about John’s lack of enthusiasm when it came to fucking Ellen that bothered the assassin.
“But I already told you, Felicia, if I make the chemical any stronger, it could be lethal,” whined Substrate. “I can only twist chemical reactions, not biological side effects.” The agitated teen sat down with a huff. “It could kill the delivery agent, not just the target.”
“Du calme, cherie,” Sylvie gently urged. “I am sure zat we will figure out ’ow to deal wiz all of Felicia’s objections.” She turned to the hit woman. “So what eez ze problem, exactalement?”
“He was resistant. I know he gave in eventually, but he didn’t go down without a fight. Besides, our next objective presents a more difficult challenge.”
“You wish to make ze doctor’s assistant your sex slave.”
“No, not necessarily,” Felicia quickly protested, purely for Substrate’s sake, knowing that Sylvie was no dummy. “But what I really want for now is her unquestioning obedience, and if we couldn’t get him to cooperate when it came to sticking his dick into a warm pussy, which is something men aren’t known to be picky about, how are we going to get this woman more or less brainwashed.”
“I was able to make ’eem—respond,” Sylvie shot back, lighting a gold-tipped black cigarette in a black cigarette holder. She raised her head and exhaled slowly.
“Don’t brag, Sylvie,” Felicia retorted, allowing herself, just for a moment, to feel the stirrings caused by the spy’s sexy bearing. “We all know that you can be quite the temptress when necessary, but even you’re not infallible. Especially with women.”
“Ohh, eeeuuuwww!” interjected Substrate. “Can we please quit with the lesbo innuendo, or are you guys trying to make me nervous on purpose? Thank goodness I’m underage or else I’d probably have been raped by one or both of you already.” She stood up to look at the other two villainesses. “Wait a minute—is that all this is about—sex?” Both women gaped at her, and Felicia nodded. “Was it that his penis didn’t get hard fast enough for Ellen, like he still had cognitive control enough to fight it because she was… too ugly for him?”

Felicia nodded again, and Substrate broke into a big grin. “Oh. I can fix that,” she casually replied. “I thought you were wanting me to reduce the cognitive function some more. If I just hafta add a new reaction, and don’t gotta change the primary one, no sweat. I can do that without increasing the potency of the original solution. We won’t hafta worry about killing anybody with side effects because it’s a different part of the brain and requires a completely different compound.”
Damn literal geniuses, Felicia silently swore before asking, “Will it work on women as well as men?” Substrate made the assassin promise not to ever use it on her before she would answer. Aggrieved at having to play along with Substrate because the teen’s request had answered the question quite well, she growled, “I don’t do children, Substrate, so yes, I promise.”
The former superheroine-turned-supervillainess shrugged, “Different parts and manifestation due to hormonal differences, influences, and more affected by higher brain processing, but the same connections, and the same nervous system impulses—shouldn’t be a problem, but I need to whip up a sample batch so we can test it on the doctor’s assistant. I don’t have enough raw material for a test and two subjects.” When asked how long it would take, the teen grinned, “Gotta wake Ellen first so she can get the base formula from the hiding place, and then a week or so of fooling around to nail the concentration and correct combination of the agents.”
Lady Mes-Méram looked astonished. “So queeckly? Le gaz took much longair zan zat!”
Substrate blushed. “Well… I’ve kinda had this one in my head since sixth grade and I first laid eyes on Brad Dawson,” she admitted, “but back then I couldn’t get the chemicals I needed, and he turned out to be an asshole, anyway.”
“In sixth grade, most boys are,” Felicia wryly noted.
“So, I’ve had this idea for a long time and worked it in my head a lot,” the teen continued. A gigantic, and somewhat evil, smile came to her face. “Now that I’m a bad guy, can I keep a dose or two for myself? There’s this really cute singer I’d like to ummm… meet.”
“I’ll make a deal with you, Substrate,” Felicia bargained. “If this works, then Ellen will be able to get you all the chemicals and lab stuff you’ve ever wanted. She has

a good friend with access to all of that.” The young supervillainess immediately agreed, and sped off with barely contained excitement.
Sylvie asked if they’d be able to deliver on their promise; a pissed-off Substrate could do a lot of damage. Nothing would be safe to eat, drink, or even breathe. “Oh, that’s the easy part,” replied Felicia. “Ellen has a direct line to Dennis Witt, head of R&D for the largest pharmaceutical corporation in the world. Once she gets her hooks into him, we can get any chemical we want, in any reasonable quantity.”
It took Substrate less than four days to deliver the promised drug; the prospect of being able to enslave any teen heartthrob at her whim had caused the girl to work straight through without sleep. Felicia was impressed; Substrate showed no sign of fatigue as she worked through her final checks. Wish I could do that. Be a handy job skill. A loose thought came to mind. “Could we possibly impregnate some cigars with the solution?” I can think of a girl or two…
Substrate’s face went blank, and she was motionless. While the assassin’s question had induced her apparently-catatonic state, the teenager was far from comatose, running millions of chemical reactions and equations through her head every minute. After about fifteen minutes, she blinked and told Felicia, “No. The extra tobacco in the liner and wrapper throws off the reaction. I’d hafta mess around and change the formula first, an’I don’t have enough raw materials to play with to make a test batch of that plus the new drug.”
It was worth a shot, Felicia thought. Guess Sylvie will have to do the conditioning. Hope she’s feeling charitable.
Mike Scott was poring over his sample network certification exam. The handsome, broad-shouldered young man considered himself lucky to have found such a plum job. With his college football career ended by a knee injury, he was working as a security guard while he took classes during the day. This gig was great: tony neighborhood, and not much to protect. His main duty was to run off nosy people with cameras who were hanging around, and that rarely happened in the wee hours.

He glanced up as nearby movement caught his eye, relaxing when he saw that it was some homely chick walking along the street with a cigarette holder. She swung her hips sensuously as she walked with a confident air, and Mike chuckled to himself. She was probably so rich that nobody had dared to tell her what she really looked like. I mean, seriously, who even smokes nowadays, let alone uses a cigarette holder?
She stopped after walking past the booth, and turned, walking back to him. “Excuse me, but do you ’ave a light?”
That explains it; she’s French, he thought as he stood up inside the booth and opened the window. “I’m sorry,” he began as the woman put her cigarette holder to her lips, intending to tell her that he didn’t smoke. Before Mike could discern that the cigarette was missing, she blew into it, surrounding him with a fine, odorless mist. The world instantly turned wavy, and his legs suddenly couldn’t support his weight. He fell back into his chair, unconscious.
Lady Mes-Méram leaned him forward so that his head fell onto his book. When he woke up, he’d think that he fell asleep while studying. “Sweet dreams, cheri,” she said, blowing him a kiss before walking around the security arm barring access to the parking lot. Since the cigarettes only worked well in confined spaces, the spy had needed something that would work fast, without physical contact, and that would leave no trace. Substrate had cobbled together a sleep mist that would also wipe out a little bit of the victim’s short-term memory from leftover chemicals and some Rohypnol they’d obtained. I love modern pharmacology, Sylvie thought. So much better and cleaner than the old days, when all we had was chloroform and the like. The spy found her intended victim’s car, defeated the lock, and climbed into the back seat of the luxury car. “She does ’ave excellent taste,” Sylvie quietly noted, and quickly replaced her nose filters. She removed the breath sprayer filled with sleep mist and sighed. Although she preferred the style in using the fake cigarette holder, it was for direct frontal attacks only, and this one had to be from the rear. Now all Sylvie had to do was wait.
Charlotte Green walked briskly towards her car after a long night at Mayer and Associates, the private plastic surgery clinic where she worked. The exclusive clinic saw the rich and famous, or just plain rich, and catered to their every whim, which was why she was leaving at almost 3 a.m.—this patient wanted to make sure that no one was around when she left. Being the head nurse to Dr. Mayer was

worth it: the perks were worth much more than the inconvenience of occasional long shifts, one of which she was approaching, the almost brand-new Infiniti M45 given to the clinic by a car dealership owner in appreciation of his pleasure at his retooled daughter. Of course, her torrid three-year affair with Dr. Mayer didn’t hurt when it came to deciding who got to drive the new “company car.”
Maybe it was the late hour, or that she believed that a guarded parking lot was a secure one, but Charlotte failed to realize that someone else was in the car until it was too late. A surprisingly strong female forearm wrapped around her neck from the rear seat. She made the mistake of going for the arm with both hands, which is when she heard a brief hiss and felt liquid hitting her in the face. Her eyes stung briefly, and then she belatedly figured out her assailant’s true objective. She struggled momentarily; and then she felt all the energy leave her body, and her arms fell limp. As her field of vision shrank, she heard a soft, feminine voice say, “Bonne nuit, cherie,” and then everything went black.
Charlotte awoke to find herself handcuffed to a pole in a dark room. The last thing she remembered was… doing post-op cleanup after last night’s surgery. “Good morning,” snickered a female voice, sympathetically adding, “Here’s some water. It will make you feel better.”
Charlotte accepted the drink, letting her mind clear. “What do you want with me?” she cried after a few minutes. “I don’t have any money!” A flat-chested, very nerdy- looking girl stood impassively in front of her, smiling evilly. Talk about needing plastic surgery, Charlotte snidely thought despite her predicament. “I don’t know anybody who’d pay ransom for me!”
“Shut up,” the girl snapped with surprising authority. “It’s not money we want. You are going to help us with a little problem we have. You see, we have need of your employer’s skills and his discretion, and you are going to get it for us.”
Charlotte struggled even more as her panic surged. She knew that, despite their longstanding affair, Dr. Mayer would not help a criminal. He’d sooner give up money, which itself was extremely unlikely. He liked being rich, and so did his wife. “He’ll never do it, not even to save me! There are laws—”
“—Which are made to be broken. I am sure that you can tell that we have no problems with that,” the ugly girl mocked. “He won’t be doing it to save you, though. He’ll be doing it because you told him to, and quite happily, I might add.

And it’s not because you’re going to threaten his marriage by telling his wife about your affair.”
Charlotte couldn’t hide her shock. How could she know about that? “You bitch!” she screamed. The girl turned away and left the room, ignoring Charlotte’s continuing curses and empty threats. The nurse’s mind reeled, trying to come up with a way she could get out of this, because she knew that her boss would call the police as soon as he found out. She became even more depressed when she realized that she and Dr. Mayer weren’t supposed to see each other again until Saturday, when they had a minor procedure scheduled. That would make three whole days before anyone would even know she was gone, and who knew what was going to happen to her between now and then!
The chick who had spoken with her was far too calm about this, seeming experienced at kidnapping and who knew what else. She started sobbing as the thought that she was as good as dead began to force its way into her conscious, only growing quiet when she heard voices outside of her door, but she could not make out the conversation.
The door opened, and the ugly girl walked in. “Bonjour, ma petite chère,” she said in perfectly-accented French.
Charlotte nearly fainted when it dawned on her that she’d been kidnapped by someone with split personalities. She’d already seen two, which made it likely that there were at least three distinct personalities. She doubted that the girl’s base personality even knew what she was doing. “Please, let me go,” begged Charlotte. “I won’t tell anybody, I promise.” The girl smiled at her as she removed a cigarette case and cigarette holder from the purse she carried. “Your—friend—took me by mistake,” continued Charlotte. “But I know you didn’t have anything to do with it. Just let me go, and I promise I’ll get you help.”
“But eet eez your ’elp zat we need, ma jolie petite,” Sylvie replied, placing a Capri 120 into a short black holder, smiling, “And I zink you will be ’appy to.”
Charlotte’s snide retort was cut off as the woman exhaled a thick stream of smoke at her face. The nurse coughed, drew a breath to say something suitably nasty, but all she got was some more smoke. She tried to hold her breath, but the woman seemed to be a smoking machine, and Charlotte began to notice the scent in spite of her efforts at resistance: light and floral, not unpleasant. A feeling between her legs came from out of nowhere. Not now! My life’s at stake.

Sylvie watched her captive’s confusion, and she had stopped trying to avoid the smoke. Soon enough, the woman was actively sniffing at the smoke surrounding her, but didn’t seem ready to be brainwashed just yet, so Sylvie immediately put another spiked cigarette into her holder after finishing the first one.
Charlotte watched as her captor lit another of the floral-scented cigarettes, and quite unconsciously, leaned forward to breathe deeply. The feeling she’d been trying to ignore seemed to get stronger with each increasingly interesting drag her captor took, but she couldn’t do anything about it because she was still handcuffed. Charlotte felt very warm all over, and she parted her lips, panting lightly. She watched the girl come closer, drawing on the still-long, slender cigarette. Charlotte leaned forward as much as she could, and was rewarded with more of the wonderful smoke, and suddenly, an all-too-brief touch of the lips. She moaned as her entire body flared into full arousal, and swayed on wobbly legs, prevented from falling by being handcuffed to the pole. She was so horny that she could barely think.
“You will not try to escape, will you, cherie?” asked the woman, and Charlotte shook her head vigorously in response, her mind too saturated with sexual heat to be able to speak. Her enchanting captor released her from her bonds, immediately exhaling more smoke for Charlotte to breathe, which she eagerly did. “Come to ze bed and sit wiz moi,” purred the kidnapper. Blissfully addled, the nurse staggered to the bed as requested. Everything the woman said was important to Charlotte. More smoke was her reward, and her body felt like a gigantically engorged clit.
“Take off your panties.” Done. “Such a pretty girl,” her arousing captor cooed before lazily walking fingers along Charlotte’s now-bare legs. Charlotte didn’t know what she wanted more, smoke or sex, no longer caring that she had been exclusively heterosexual to this point in her life.
Now Sylvie could see the drug’s effect, and put out her cigarette. Charlotte was ready to be taken. The spy leaned forward, aggressively kissing her victim, while simultaneously fingering Charlotte’s pussy.
Charlotte’s orgasm exploded violently, and she kissed her homely kidnapper passionately, her own sexual orientation permanently altered in seconds. This orgasm was so incredibly, intense, so unlike any other she’d ever had in her life, and it just kept going and going and going…

The next thing Charlotte knew, the woman responsible for her incredible pleasure was lighting another cigarette in the holder. It made her look sexy. The nurse blinked, realizing that, amazingly, she was very horny again. “Now you will do everyzing I ask you to, oui? Because you want my touch, n’est-ce pas?” the sexy woman asked.
Charlotte nodded immediately, watching with fascination as the object of her intense desire and affection drew on the holder. I’ll do anything that super-sexy babe wants, especially if she can make me cum like that again. After snapping a ball of smoke back into her mouth, her lover placed a gentle hand on Charlotte’s chin. Charlotte eagerly opened her mouth, breathing deeply of the smoke flowing as their faces neared.
Sylvie marveled at how quickly and fully Substrate’s new formula had worked on Charlotte. If this was repeatable, there wasn’t a secret in the world (or man) beyond her reach. The superspy asked the question again in a seductive whisper. “Will you do everyzing I tell you, Charlotte?” and took another drag from her holdered cigarette.
The nurse was so enchanted by watching the sexy way that the woman was smoking that she didn’t answer right away. Her fascination was broken when the woman kissed her deeply. “Yes—” Charlotte hesitated as she exhaled a tiny bit of smoke, not knowing what to call her new lover.
“Mistress, cherie. I am your—”
“—Mistress,” Charlotte happily replied, again rewarded with the flower-scented smoke from her mistress’ lips. “Yes, Mistress.”
Part 3 – Linchpin
The following afternoon, Felicia Fatale was in bed, enjoying her devotee’s enthralled attentions. Without request, the superspy had made Charlotte into the assassin’s slave, giving Felicia her own chance at sexual relief. “Ahhhn!” she moaned when Charlotte’s tongue found a particularly sensitive spot, making her back arch off the bed. Her slave wasn’t doing too badly at all, especially when you considered that Charlotte had never been in a lesbian tryst before.
All good things must end, however, and it was time to get back to work. “Sylvie,” she called, “come get beautiful. She needs her lessons so we can get on with this.

We can’t keep her forever.” Maybe after we’re done though, I can… convince her that she wants to be mine. The hit woman pushed the nurse from between her legs, but not without second thoughts.
Charlotte looked around to see who her mistress had called, but no one came. Then Mistress put a black cigarette into a short black holder, looking very sexy. Charlotte was wet again. She lit Mistress’ smoke, disappointed when the exhale was sent into the air, and not into her face. “Charlotte, cherie, I will need you to do somezing for me,” said Sylvie. “You steel wish to do everyzing I want you to, n’est- ce pas?”
Oh, goody! It was Mistress’ French-accented voice, and the super-sexy persona that Charlotte longed to emulate. “Yes, Mistress,” she happily answered. “Of course I’ll do whatever you want!”
Lady Mes-Méram smiled, dragging on her cigarette holder. “I would like you to learn ’ow to smoke. Propairly.”
Charlotte immediately asked, “Will I look as sexy as you, Mistress? Can you teach me to do it like that?” When she received a long wet kiss in return, she eagerly agreed, instantaneously forgetting her years of medical training.
Charlotte Green stood in front of a mirror, posing with her arm extended and one of her newest purchases, a black, eight-inch-long cigarette holder, effeminately held from beneath. It had been four weeks since she had been kidnapped from the parking lot at her job. However, her involuntary captivity had lasted less than forty- eight hours. Since then, Charlotte had been visiting the warehouse regularly of her own volition. That was where the woman she fondly called “Mistress” lived, often spending the night, because all she wanted was to serve her in any way requested. And the sex was spectacular.
She looked to Mistress for approval, and gained a smile and nod, making her feel a little swell of pride. “So are you ready for your trip?” Felicia asked. “By the way, thank you for the cigars.”
“Yes, I am, and you’re welcome,” replied Charlotte, casually French-inhaling, adding, “And thank you for last night, Mistress,” with a wicked grin.

“Any time, Cutie,” Felicia lewdly shot back, and felt her pussy flutter. Oh, shut up down there! We’re at work now. “You understand how this should work, right?”
“Danny-boy is all heated up and ready to go. I figure that he’ll want to fuck within a half-hour of checking in,” said the brainwashed nurse. “I haven’t let him have anything more than a tease in almost a month. I sent the special cigarettes to myself at the hotel via FedEx, as you wished. Won’t he be surprised when I have his favorite expensive cigar ready for him on the patio of my suite in Hawaii? Thank you for teaching me about cigars, too. That will make it easy to fool him about the smoking room.”
“You are ready,” Felicia smiled. “Come give me a smooch on the cheek so I don’t make you miss your flight.”
Charlotte took a final drag, and silently exhaled skyward, causing Sylvie to remark, “Cherie, zat was perfect. ’Eee will not be able to resist you.” Charlotte beamed at Mistress’ praise, and left for her Hawaiian rendezvous.
“The doctor and his clinic will be ours very soon,” Felicia smiled evilly. “And then,” she smirked, “we will take care of you.”
Ellen shrank, frightened. “W-w-w-what are you g-g-going to do to me?”
The assassin lit a cigar. “Let’s just say we’re going fix all of your problems— permanently.” She blew a cloud into the air, and with a sinister chuckle, finished, “At least you won’t have to worry about that face any more where you’re going.”
Dr. Dan Mayer hurriedly unpacked his suitcase. Charlotte had invited him to her room for drinks; he knew what that meant. It had seemed that this conference would never get here. Three days of boring meetings, sales pitches and presentations, but the four days and seven nights with his hot nurse, all away from his wife’s sight, made it worthwhile. Maybe this would even be the trip where Charlotte would finally agree to get her tits enhanced. Not that her natural 36C was chopped liver. Lately, he’d noticed that his head nurse had been acting—sexier— around him when they were alone. And now, they had the better part of a week to be alone. He could hardly wait.

Charlotte stepped into the general manager’s private office. Mistress had told her that she would need better accommodations for the week, and had figured out how Charlotte could get them. “Hello, are you the general manager?”
“Yes, Ms. Green, how may I help you?” said the light brown-skinned woman who stepped forward.
“This regards next year’s conference,” Charlotte said, “and Dr. Mayer is in charge of the Futures Committee. He’s interested in the possibility of adding a second meeting next year.” She paused, noting the ashtray on the desk. It shouldn’t surprise me that Mistress knew, but still… she said she’s never been here. “Would you mind if I smoke, Sara? It was a long, bumpy flight, and I’m still a little rattled.”
“No, no, go right ahead,” was the polite reply. “I understand. Drives me nuts when I go to the mainland, too,” confided Sara.
Charlotte removed a Capri 120 and lit it, trying to avoid making it obvious that she was trying to surround the hotel GM with smoke, while being properly sexy about it. “Thank you,” she smiled. “Anyway, Dr. Mayer would like to know some of the information you have on the conference’s hotel usage and things like that…” She prattled on for the duration of the Capri, and when she had finished smoking, cautiously asked the GM, “Sara, can you hear me?”
“Yes…” was the response, sounding faraway, and only then did Charlotte notice the woman’s half-lidded eyes and dilated pupils.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, Sara, just listen and you will be happy to do what I say, all right?”
“Y-y-yes,” was the halting reply. Sara shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“Yes, Sara, I know what you’re feeling. Be a dear and pull down that skirt and hose, so I can make it better for you,” Charlotte purred, lighting another special Capri 120.
“N-n-no,” gasped the half-spellbound woman, “Sssstop…” Charlotte exhaled forcefully into Sara’s face, and the woman sighed with an expression of bliss on her face. Her hips began to move and she pressed her butt into the chair. More scented smoke swirled around her and Sara avidly sniffed at it.

The GM’s mouth was hanging open, so Charlotte took another drag, leaned over her soon-to-be victim, and exhaled again, this time only inches away from her face. As she finished, she gave Sara a brief, wet kiss, just as Mistress had with Charlotte that first time. The woman’s back arched and she moaned urgently into Charlotte’s mouth. “Now, can I get a smoking room? Where we can smoke—and play—together? One of your nicer, more—private—rooms.”
“We-we have—a honeymoon cabana suite available on the private beach,” Sara panted as Charlotte teased her burning pussy. “I can-I can-upgrade you! Give you free room service!”
Charlotte exhaled more smoke into Sara’s face, eliciting a groan of passion. “That will do nicely, Sara.” She stopped playing with the GM’s bush and put out her cigarette. “I’d like to see you there, in my new room tonight, say, around midnight? Then we can finish what we started, hmmm? Bring some champagne. French, of course.”
“Ohhhh…” moaned Sara, “p-p-p-please…”
“Not ‘til later tonight,” Charlotte brightly smiled, taking her hand away. “You’d better make yourself presentable so you can come out front to give me my free upgrade, dear.”
“Yes, yes, of course. You’re right,” Sara replied with a voice full of disappointment.
Just before the two women left the office, Charlotte roughly pulled Sara to her and kissed her, hot and wet. “I do keep my promises. See you tonight.”
Dan Mayer was getting frustrated. There had been no word from Charlotte, and his flaring hormones had cooled. What the hell could be taking her so long? Did she really bring that much luggage? The phone finally rang, some two hours after they’d arrived at the hotel.
“Hey there, Danny,” said a husky, feminine voice full of unspoken, yet lewd, invitation, making him forget his irritation. “I’m finally all unpacked for our week in paradise. Wanna join me on my patio for drinks?” Dan was drooling; Charlotte sounded like she was ready to deliver on the promises of her flirtations back in the

office. “There was a big mix-up with my reservation, so I’m in room 12 on the beach in a cabana suite. I can’t wait to see you.” He barely spent enough time to hang up before leaving the room. The hell with the Futures Committee dinner tonight. They can get along without my input.
He knocked on the door of room 12 in the hotel’s exclusive cabana wing a few minutes later. This is one hell of an apology for a screwed-up reservation, he thought as he rang her doorbell. The door opened, and Dr. Mayer stepped in. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he saw Charlotte walking away from the door, her ass and legs swaying, barely hidden by the sheer black—thing—she was wearing.
Charlotte could feel her boss’ eyes on her as she headed for the patio. This would afford her the maximum privacy for what Mistress had told her to do. However, the exact way in which she was to do it was up to her. She knew Danny’s likes and dislikes, both in and out of bed, and that gave her a lot of possibilities for his seduction. “Would you like a cigar with the champagne they gave me? This is a smoking room.”
Wow, pinch me. I gotta be dreaming. Charlotte’s way hotter than I’ve ever seen her, and she’s got champagne and cigars! Can this get any better? He joined her on the spacious patio situated on a stretch of private beach, accepting the hand- rolled cigar with a grin he hoped wasn’t too lecherous. His nurse leaned over him with the clipper, a light, and a great view of her tits. “Be right back!” she smiled, leaving him with a lust-inducing wiggle in her walk.
She returned to him a few moments later carrying a long black cigarette holder with an unlit pink cigarette in it. Charlotte posed sexily in the patio doorway, and husked, “You know how to whistle, Dan—”
“—just pucker your lips…” Dan began to finish the line, but his voice died as she approached, oozing sensuality.
“Got a light for me?” Charlotte whispered. He dumbly extended the lighter as she leaned forward a little more, so that they were face-to-face, close enough to see that he was watching her first powerful draw from the holder. She inhaled deeply, and then deliberately puckered her lips, mere inches away from his face, and blew thick, floral-scented smoke into his face. “And blow,” she throatily said, finishing the line from the movie.

Dan’s dick began to grow. He didn’t stop to think about the fact that his head nurse was smoking and inhaling. Or that she was blowing smoke in his face from a few inches away. None of that mattered now. He had wanted to fuck her before, but now it was much worse. His voice seemed trapped by the aura of pure sex emanating from her. She exhaled more smoke into his face, and suddenly Dr. Mayer’s cock was hard. “Wanna go inside and play doctor, doctor?” His forgotten cigar hit the deck of the patio and he quickly followed. He had worked very closely with Charlotte for almost four years, the last three of which were enhanced by a lively, ongoing, three-year affair. After all that time, it was apparent that he had not really gotten to know her at all.
Dan energetically thrust at Charlotte, who enthusiastically fucked back at him from below. He’d never felt so hard, so virile, so sensitive in his life! And Charlotte was velvet, warm, wet, and alive around his manhood, moving in ways he hadn’t ever seen or felt before. Her shining eyes silently urged him on, and they kissed almost constantly, crazed, passionate, and wanton. Dan had no idea what had transformed his pretty head nurse into a white-hot sexpot, but he liked it. Time had no meaning for him; there was only an overwhelming compulsion to drive more sensation through his body via his dick. Little involuntary noises began to escape from his mouth, and his breathing became louder. He could feel his orgasm approach, almost in slow-motion, with an incredibly heightened perception of all of the different sexually-based sensations in his body. This slow-motion wave broke over him, and he howled in his release, one so overwhelming that each of his orgasmic contractions hurt, the pain immediately washed away by the searing pleasure of his cum being propelled into Charlotte.
He lay panting and gasping for breath for several minutes afterwards. This had been the most incredible sex of his life, and he had even forgotten to take his Viagra beforehand!
He heard the click of a lighter, and it was only then that he realized he was alone in the bed. Dan sat up to see Charlotte lighting another pink cigarette in the holder, looking incredibly sexy. Before he could make a move for his pants and his Viagra, she came over to the bed, dripping sensuality, and reclined, displaying her body to arouse. Dan wanted her again, but he was going to need a little pharmaceutical help after the last one. “Umm… Charlotte? I hate to admit this—” She exhaled some of the floral smoke into his face. “—but can you hand me my pants, so I can —umm—take a pill?”

Charlotte exhaled again, and Dan took a long whiff. She smiled, and purred, “Why? Wouldn’t you prefer to have it all—” she took a long, long drag this time, and held the smoke, only to lean over, engulf his cock, and bob her head a couple of times, finally letting the smoke go through her nostrils, finishing, “—natural?” Charlotte shifted position and drew on the holder again, gently wrapping her soft hand around his cock and exhaled, silently, directly into Dan’s face. He said nothing, but his eyes bulged as his flaccid penis twitched strongly in her palm. “I’m gonna be your Viagra tonight, baby.” She surrounded him with smoky sensuality, his head in a constant haze of floral-scented smoke, while she would occasionally stop her hand job to take him into a smoke-filled mouth.
Dan could only watch, speechless, when she paused her attentions to put out the cigarette as his now-erect cock twitched impatiently. He held his breath, hoping against hope, and gasped loudly when she leisurely put another gold-tipped pink cigarette into the holder, much to his desire and amazement. His cock stiffened even more as she lit it. His mouth unconsciously parted when she leaned to his face and delivered more of the sweet smoke. His dick felt like it was going to split from the blood rushing in.
Charlotte gently recaptured her boss’ cock with her hand and began stroking in earnest. Holder clenched between her teeth, she continued smoking, exhaling each deeply inhaled puff until his face was completely obscured by smoke. Judging by the noises he was making and the way he was thrusting at her hand, he was oblivious, lost in the nefarious effects of the doped cigarette. He growled, primal and low, and then thrust mightily upwards as cum arced into the air before spilling onto her hand. Again and again, he would growl, each noise a precursor to another pulse of his cock and more cum flowing from its opening. Dan Mayer collapsed onto the bed, finally drained, adrift in post-orgasmic bliss.
“Isn’t all-natural better, Danny?” she lewdly smiled down at him. He weakly agreed, his eyes still unfocused. “Wasn’t this fun?” she semi-rhetorically asked. “And you’re going want to do it again and again with me, and I’m going to show you better and better things and you’ll be happy to do what I say, because I can make it so much better, even better than this,” whispered the enchantress. He nodded weakly, still trying to focus, but she cut off his return to cognizance by lightly brushing the rim and corona of his cock, which was enough to elicit a loud moan and weak attempt to thrust at something. “Now you just close your eyes and take a little-bitty nap for me, OK? Just think, we have six more days of fun.”

Dan’s eyes fluttered shut, and he could barely hear Charlotte whisper some more things to him… please her… Wonderful sex… Reward… Smoke… Sexy… Reward… Smoke… Sexy… Charlotte…
And then he was unconscious.
Shortly after eleven, Charlotte roused him enough to send him on his way, telling him that they had to keep some semblance of appearances. Dan groggily agreed, dressed haphazardly, and staggered out of her cabana suite, headed for his own room to spend the rest of the night accompanied only by intense, erotic dreams of his smoky seductress.
Charlotte watched him leave the cabana wing from the hall before closing her door. She carefully freshened her makeup and put her sheer robe back on before placing a Capri 120 into a five-inch long, fourteen-karat gold cigarette holder that she had bought on eBay for the occasion.
Shortly after midnight, there was a timid knock on the door. Charlotte lit her cigarette and softly called, “Come in, Sara. Use your master key.”
The hotel general manager stepped into the suite and froze, mouth agape at the sight of Charlotte posed on the side of the bed, legs crossed and cigarette holder held demurely at the end of an outstretched arm as a line of smoke trailed slowly from her lips. She was wearing a black kimono-like robe that covered everything sexual, but left almost everything else uncovered. “Close the door and come here,” said Charlotte pleasantly.
Seemingly spellbound, the Polynesian woman approached the bed slowly, her nostrils flaring as she breathed shallowly.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Charlotte smiled with a slightly husky voice. She placed her free hand on one of Sara’s shoulders and applied a very light pressure, while simultaneously using the holdered cigarette to indicate the target. “Now, it’s time to show me your customer service skills.”
Gazing upwards with fascination into Charlotte’s face as she sank to her knees, Sara gently separated Charlotte’s legs, and softly, submissively replied, “Yes, Ms. Green.”

“So how is the mission going?”
“Almost perfectly, Mistress,” Charlotte happily responded over the phone. “The cigarettes aren’t working as fast on Danny as they did on Sara—”
Damn! That could be an enormous problem, the assassin thought, losing track of Charlotte’s voice.
Before she could say anything, her lover’s voice came back into focus. “—There’s also something going on in Danny’s committee, so I’ve lost one night because he had to attend a dinner meeting, and you told me not to do anything to arouse suspicion. In fact, I’ve had to make him keep his obligations. Danny’s in another emergency committee meeting right now.”
“Will you be able to achieve the objective before you get back?” Felicia worriedly asked. Substrate said that she wasn’t sure if she had the concentrations right. I hope Cutie can improvise and make it work.
“I’m sure that he’ll be ready to do whatever I tell him before we get back,” Charlotte confidently replied, “because I’m gonna have him all to myself for almost three full days after the conference ends, as originally planned, but we won’t be doing exactly what he thought we would when he made those plans.” She smiled, “I can tell it’s working, because he’s in that meeting only because I told him he had to go. I could tell he really wanted to stay here with me.” Sounding relieved, Mistress asked where “here” was. “On the patio of my cabana suite, wearing a bikini and enjoying one of Danny’s favorite cigars.” The brainwashed nurse paused. “And wishing you were here with me, Mistress.”
The sentiment resonated through the assassin. “Maybe when all of this is over, we can spend a week of our own in Hawaii,” she wistfully said. “I’d like to meet your Sara.”
“You’re not jealous that I’m—still playing with her even though I’ve got what I need, are you, Mistress?” Charlotte hurriedly, apprehensively, asked.
Felicia couldn’t help but shake her head and chuckle, “No, my sweet, not at all.” After all, I’m still playing with you after I’ve gotten what I needed. “Play toys can be a lot of fun. Just don’t wear yourself out in paradise,” Felicia playfully cautioned.

Her voice turned tender, and the hit woman admitted, “I’m missing you terribly, and can’t wait for you to get back.”
Charlotte’s heart and pussy fluttered. “I’ll be happy to see you again, too, Mistress. Will you share a cigar with me? I kinda like these.”
“Definitely, Cutie. Now scoot and finish the one you have going, and work on getting a sexy tan for me, OK?”
“Yes, Mistress. Bye-bye.” Charlotte disconnected the call and raised the patio shade to get more sun. Mistress wanted her tanned when she got back, and Charlotte loved to please her.
Dr. Dan Mayer lay on his back, naked, in his head nurse’s bed. Tomorrow the damn conference would be over, and he would be free to spend the rest of the trip having sex with Charlotte. He didn’t know what had happened to transform her into this amazingly hot sex goddess, nor did he care. The Viagra had gone unused because he’d had no problems getting it up for her, no matter how much they’d fucked. Part of it was the whole slinky cigarette-holder femme fatale thing, he admitted to himself. Dan had also come to enjoy the floral scent of her pink cigarettes, and there was something—excitingly bad—about her blowing it in his face. Just the thought caused his cock to twitch, albeit weakly. The bathroom door opened. Speak of the sexy little devil herself, he thought, and sat up at the click of her lighter.
Oh, so he’s watching for it now, thought Charlotte with an evil little smile. Time for the opening gambit. “Dan, I have a big, big favor to ask you.” He sat up, ostensibly to hear her out, but the quick glance at her cigarette gave him away. She exhaled into his face, and his dick grew a little. “I have a friend who needs some plastic surgery, and you’re the best.
“Uh-huh,” he distractedly rejoined, his eyes on the smoldering cigarette and holder.
Charlotte obliged his silent wish, taking two more drags and exhaling more of the doctored smoke at him, causing his cock to fill rapidly. “But she can’t afford you. I was hoping that—” She sat on the bed and took him into her mouth after a long, steady draw on the holder. He crossed his eyes trying to watch as she let the smoke spill over his groin, before giving himself over to the sensation of her warm

mouth on his now-almost-ready cock. Charlotte came up for air at Dan’s rapturous moan, and dragged on the holder once more. “—maybe work something out.” she sent more smoke into his face, and he sighed happily. She swung a leg across his body and mounted him, taking another draw from the holder and exhaling forcefully downward into his face.
“We can—work—something—out!” Dan grunted.
“She needs a lot of work,” purred Charlotte, her hips gliding smoothly, so intent on her task that she barely felt him. “And she can’t pay.”
Dan’s eyes were rolling around in his head, and his dick was again feeling like it was ready to split open. She stopped moving her hips and put out the cigarette. He groaned, and his cock immediately began to soften inside her. His brain started working again. “Char—you—you know I can’t! We have people to pay!” Try as he might, Dan was unable to regain his sexual momentum, and his cock was going soft. “Maybe a nose job on the house—but not—not…”
His voice died as Charlotte reached for the Capri 120s, and the gold holder. “Her nose is OK. It’s the rest of her that needs work,” his nurse calmly replied. “I’ll work for free.”
“But-but-the aftercare—”
“I can take care of most of that,” Charlotte interrupted. “Remember, I know how— profitable—your business is. One charity case, that’s all I want. For meeee?” she sweetly crooned. Dan was soft now, so she lit the Capri, and exhaled at him. His smile faded and he coughed. “What’s the matter, dear? Something wrong?”
“No,” he managed to gasp, pointing feebly at her cigarette. “The other ones. A free facial job if you’ll just-just—”
“Oh, you want me to smoke the other ones for you? The ones that make your dick all nice and hard?” He nodded, eyes pleading. Charlotte took a luxuriant drag from her très chic and stylishly expensive holder. “No. Not until I’m sure that your promise is for real.”
Dan coughed as she exhaled smoke into his face again. “I promise,” he pleaded, just so she’d do the sexy thing again.

“Doctor, for some reason, I don’t think you’re telling me the truth,” she snipped. Charlotte slid off of him and brushed his cheek lightly. “We’ll try again after the conference is over. We have to attend tomorrow’s eight o’clock session, remember, and I think I’d like to relax for the rest of the night—so I can have a fresh mind for tomorrow. You understand.” There was a soft knock at the door. She’s right on time. So wonderfully disciplined. I can see how she managed to make GM at such a young age. “Come in, Sara.”
The door opened, and Sara entered. “Ms. Green—oh! You have company.” She blushed at the sight of the naked couple on the bed.
“That’s all right, Sara dear. My—guest—was just leaving. Isn’t that right, Dan?” He sputtered pathetically, looking from Charlotte to the Polynesian woman. He turned to his head nurse, who just smiled back with a knowing twinkle in her eye. Dan opened his mouth to say something, but Charlotte lightly said, “See you tomorrow morning at the conference, boss?” before standing up and walking over to Sara to give her a wet kiss. Dan gaped at the two women. “Is there anything else you need, Dr. Mayer?”
He stood there in a room with all the necessary ingredients for a wonderful fantasy experience in the flesh, and he was explicitly left out. Worse, his cock wasn’t responding at all, even as the two beautiful women started to make out. Horny, flaccid, and extremely frustrated, he dressed quietly, and left.
Once in his room, Dr. Mayer tried to masturbate, envisioning his nurse and the Polynesian woman in heated lesbian passion with him in the middle, but his dick just would not respond. Desperate for relief, he reached for the bottle of blue pills. And I thought I wasn’t going to need these, he ruefully thought.
Two pills and an hour later, he hadn’t felt even the slightest tingle, let alone any sign of blood movement, remaining completely flaccid. Dr. Dan Mayer lay awake in his bed, hornier than he could ever remember being in his life, and extremely worried about his sudden-onset erectile dysfunction.
“Dr. Mayer, please!” Charlotte Green urgently whispered. “Not here, there are appearances to consider!” she did her best to hide a pleased smile. Her boss had been pursuing her throughout the conference’s last day, pleadingly asking her for

another chance at a liaison, complete with puppy dog eyes. Mistress had said that Charlotte would know when he was ready, and this looked like it.
Dr. Mayer pursued his head nurse as she stepped outside, settling away from everybody else. He watched her remove a cigarette case with rising hopes, but the cigarette she removed was one of the long, skinny ones that smelled like a normal cigarette. He still leaned to catch a whiff as it was dispelled by the breeze, just to make sure. “What did you want?” Her businesslike tone broke his reverie.
“I-I-I was wondering if you’d like-lunch—in your suite,” he stammered, feeling like a high school geek asking the captain of the cheerleading squad for a date.
“Oh, Danny, that’s so nice of you!” his heart leapt with happiness—
“—But Sara’s taking me around to see more of the island today right after closing session, and then we were going to have a private dinner at one of the hotels where she used to work,” his head nurse apologetically replied. “It’s her day off.”
Dan’s face fell, and he was on the verge of crying. He hadn’t been able to feel his cock since early last night, and the woman who always seemed to be able to make him respond had evidently gone lesbian.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte consoled. Her boss looked crushed. “Tell you what, though,” she merrily resumed, “we should be back by ten or so. Why don’t you give me a call in my room tonight?” she grinned, and whispered into his ear, “Maybe we’ll have something left for you. You know, this paradise thing and all is for lovers.”
His face instantly brightened so much that you would have thought he’d won the lottery. “Appearances, Dr. Mayer,” Charlotte softly, but sharply, warned, and he calmed down. “Now go on inside and hit that ten o’clock paper you wanted to see. Please don’t stay out here just to watch me smoke. Otherwise, I might just—stay out—with Sara.”
Dan nodded excitedly, turned, and went back into the conference without as much as a backwards glance, leaving Charlotte to enjoy the rest of her smoke break. Oh, yeah, he’s definitely ready.

Dan nervously stood outside of room 12. Both Charlotte and Sara were inside, but the prospect of not being able to perform had frozen him at the door. The decision was taken out of his hands when the door opened. “See, Sara,” Charlotte’s voice said, “I told you he was here.” Dan walked in, feeling strangely trapped.
Charlotte appeared from the patio, looking awesome in a formal, classy, black dress, smiling, “Hi Dan.” His fear turned into shock when his head nurse calmly ordered Sara to disrobe—and she did!
“Charlotte?” he meekly queried. This woman was nothing like his head nurse! So sexy, clearly bisexual, and so… commanding… who was this woman? His puzzlement and fear began to grow, but he nearly fainted when Charlotte gave Sara her next command. The Polynesian woman knelt, unzipped his shorts, and yanked them to his ankles before starting to blow him.
“What would you like tonight, Dan?” cooed Charlotte. “Something simple to start with? A double blowjob, perhaps?” She looked at him, flaccid and unresponsive, despite Sara’s efforts. “Of course, that would imply that you can get it up. Which seems to be a problem at the moment.”
Dan felt ashamed. Not even Viagra was working; he’d taken two more before coming over. “I can make it work again, Dan,” said Charlotte. She approached him with sensuous grace, and showed him what he longed to see: a long black cigarette holder, and a box of gold-tipped pink cigarettes. She took her time in preparing her smoke as he watched, completely captivated, and feeling excited, but his body still failed to react.
“Now, I have a problem that you can help me with,” she turned away, noting his disappointment with satisfaction. “So if you want me to help you—you have to help me.” He nodded eagerly.
She lit the extra-long assembly, and blew doctored smoke into his face. He swayed drunkenly with a peaceful, goofy look on his face. Suddenly, the fact that he was getting hard again registered. Dan moaned as Sara’s attentions began to register. “Feel that?” Charlotte smiled. He nodded eagerly, and she drew on the holder, french-inhaled quickly, and dosed him with the magic smoke once more. Dan moaned loudly as his dick surged to half-hardness. “Like that? Want some more?” she purred.
“Yes, Charlotte, please!” he begged.

“Then you have to do something for me. Or I can throw these away—” She walked sensuously towards the bathroom. “—And your dick will never get hard again.”
“Charlotte, please—don’t do that! I’ll do anything!” he cried.
“Does that mean you’ll take the best possible care of my friend? For free?” Dan hesitated; in response, Charlotte walked outside onto her patio to finish her cigarette, and the drug’s effect began to fade, along with his erection. “Yes!” he shouted.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I’ll do the surgery! For free!” he called. She walked back into the room, hips swaying. Horny beyond belief, and seemingly unable to do anything about it, Dan had finally reached his breaking point. “Anything you want, Charlotte. Anything at all,” he babbled.
His head nurse smiled at him, and proceeded to light another of the pink cigarettes. He eagerly took a big whiff of the floral scented smoke, and smiled as his previously dead penis responded.
“Sara, darling, thank you for everything,” Charlotte smiled as the hotel GM watched one of her employees bundle Charlotte’s luggage onto a cart. “I’ll be back—with a very special friend.” The bellman left, and she pushed the door shut behind him. Charlotte kissed Sara hungrily, possessively. “And we’ll play all kinds of games, she, you, and I.”
“I look forward to serving you again, Ms. Green,” replied Sara throatily. “It’s been my pleasure.”
Sara escorted Charlotte to the front desk, where Dr. Mayer awaited. The two of them climbed into the hotel limo for the ride to the airport, and as soon as they pulled out, he asked, “Charlotte?”

“You know I’ll take care of your friend, right?” he fawned. She returned a regal nod. “So, ummm… ummmm… would you—do it again, please? Just one last time before we have to go back to normal? Please?”
She’d anticipated this. Removing her long black holder, she placed her last doctored pink cigarette into it, and silently waited for him to light her. Taking a long, deep draw, she exhaled forcefully into his face. “Take your pants off,” Charlotte husked, and when he complied, she wrapped her free hand around his rising cock. “This is what good boys get,” she purred seductively, and gave him more of the smoke he craved before starting to masturbate him. Mistress will be so pleased.
Part 4 – The Death of Ellen Dyson
“Cutie!” Felicia Fatale’s surprised squeak echoed through the warehouse. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon! I adore your tan!” The two women kissed. “Tell me about Hawaii!”
It took a few moments for Charlotte to catch her breath from Mistress’ passionate welcome back kiss. “Mission accomplished,” she beamed. “Dr. Mayer will do all the surgery for free. He’ll also do the necessary aftercare, because I’ve got him addicted to the magic cigarettes. He craves having me blow that magic smoke in his face. Because he knows it gets his dick really hard, no matter what.”
“That’s wonderful, Cutie! I knew you could do it.” Felicia rolled her eyes as Substrate clamored for more details, but all Felicia could think of right now was being alone with her sexy, tanned Cutie. “I want to hear all the details, but right now… Come and snuggle with me. Everything else can wait.” Suddenly, they were kissing again, hotter, hungrier, and this time, Felicia was the one who came up for air first. Charlotte shot her an inflammatory glance over her shoulder, and headed towards the bedroom with an exaggerated wiggle. The assassin needed no further invitation, and immediately followed her prize. Mission debriefing would wait.
Several hours later, Felicia was watching Charlotte carefully prepare a Dunhill cigar that her boss (and current slave) had given her. She lit it with equal care before handing it to her lover, smiling, “You taught me well. And wasn’t it so nice of Danny to give me this box?”
Felicia puffed on the forty-five ring, about seven inches long, and exhaled through her nose to get the full flavor. Cutie’s boss had excellent taste in cigars—and women. Felicia ran her eyes appreciatively over Charlotte, while the woman posed

with an inviting smile, interrupting the assassin’s contemplation of her excellent cigar.
Just then, Substrate burst in. “So tell me how did it—oops!” She turned beet-red at the sight of the naked woman, and quickly covered her eyes with her hands.
Charlotte sighed. This was her least favorite of Mistress’ personae. The super- smart and socially inept teenage girl the other two referred to as, “Substrate.” She sighed inwardly again, knowing that if she wanted one of Mistress’ sexy personae to come back, she would have to deal with this one first. “Well—” Charlotte stifled a giggle as the teen persona took a curious puff from the cigar she was holding. “—it looked like it works great on women. I smoked, Sara got horny and suggestible. I told her something, she obeyed, especially when it came to sex.”
Substrate nodded excitedly, and took another puff from the cigar, causing Charlotte to cock her head inquisitively. “I wanted to see why Felicia likes these so much, OK?” Substrate answered. “I’m curious. Please don’t tell on me.” Charlotte smiled, remembering her own curiosity about smoking when she was a teen. “So how many times did Sara get dosed before it wore off?” asked Substrate.
“Once, and it didn’t, at least not while I was there.”
“If it’s targeted as specifically as I wanted, you shouldn’t notice anything. Once Sara’s close enough to smell you, her cognitive brain goes on hold, and anything you say takes priority. And your pheromones interrupt her usual susceptibility and response to sexual stimuli,” the teen genius explained. “She wants you more than anything else in the world whenever you’re around her.” Substrate was pleased: the formula worked pretty much the same with two different female subjects. Although it was far from a definitive sample size, it augured well that any biological differences between Sara and Charlotte hadn’t affected the drug’s effectiveness in the least. Pleased with herself, she took a demonstrative puff on the cigar. “It’ll wear off if you’re not around for a while, so the next time you see her, you’ll need to dose her again,” she clinically said. Then she leaned forward as she asked, “So what about the guy?” This was the part that held the most interest for her. Girls? Oh, ICK! But boys? Especially cute, famous ones? Her grin grew predatory.
Charlotte’s smile faded. “I had to work on Danny quite a bit. I went through the whole pack of pink Fantasias, and about half the pack of Capri 120s.” Substrate silently cursed herself for miscalculating the impact of the elevated testosterone level in males. Charlotte resumed, “It wasn’t that he wasn’t horny for me, or that he

flat refused to follow my suggestions. I just had to work at tying his physical dependency to a psychological one. The end result is the same, though. He’ll do anything I tell him to,” the nurse happily finished.
Substrate’s shoulders had slumped while she mentally castigated herself. She’d managed to increase the sexual urgency inspired by the drug, but she had miscalculated the impact of—”
“What’s the matter?”
Charlotte’s concerned question jolted Substrate from her self-flagellation and diagnosis. “Oh, it’s just that I’m disappointed in the way the formula works on men.” She saw that Charlotte was probably going to say something to cheer her up, so she quickly resumed, “It’s supposed to work just like it did on Sara, but I goofed. Felicia’s gonna be so mad at me…” Charlotte asked why. “’Cause I don’t have enough chemicals to create another batch, let alone rework the formula,” Substrate glumly replied. Sniffling back tears, she took a puff of the all-but-forgotten cigar, only to find that it had gone out. Shoot. I can’t even smoke a cigar right.
Mistress’ obvious pain, even in her Substrate persona, made Charlotte want to cry, too. She took the cigar and sympathetically patted her on the arm. “Substrate,” she gently began, “why don’t you make a list of the chemicals you need and give it to me? After all, I do work in a doctor’s office.” Charlotte re-lit the cigar and handed it back to Substrate after dragging deeply and inhaling the strong smoke. Felicia was right. Sometimes, ya just gotta inhale to get everything a cigar offers, she thought.
Substrate stopped sniffling, “Y-y-you can do that?” The nurse told her that, if nothing else, she could probably get her boss to obtain the chemicals. The teen took a puff from the cigar, brightening by the second, and then threw herself at Charlotte for a happy hug. “Thank you! Oh, thank you!” Suddenly, she remembered that she was hugging a naked woman— who was attracted to Sylvie and Felicia—like in lesbo drive, even if it was just because of the chemical. She hopped back as if the nurse’s body had turned white-hot. “Ummmmm…”
Charlotte snickered. “Don’t worry, I know what that hug meant.” she gave Substrate an affectionate peck on the forehead as she would to her favorite niece. “Now, scoot and bring me that list!” Substrate headed off, smiling, but turned and gave a quizzical look as she reached the door. “Yes,” Charlotte laughed, waving dismissively, “you can have the rest of the cigar.”

“Zank you—mmmmm—for ze—” Lady Sylvie Mes-Méram gasped. “—gift!”
“You’re welcome, Mistress,” replied Charlotte as she blew a line of smoke from a freshly-lit, doctored Capri 120 in her favorite cigarette holder, the 14k gold one, into the face of her boss, Dr. Mayer. He groaned as Sylvie rode him from above and more blood filled his cock. “I know you’ve had to sit on the sidelines while Felicia n’me play. I thought that Danny here—” She took another luxuriant drag, slowly French-inhaled, and this time, she leaned close to his face to exhale the floral- scented smoke he had been conditioned to crave. “—would make for a nice apology,” she finished over his high-pitched moan of pleasure.
“Il est excéllent!” panted Sylvie before throwing her head back with an orgasmic moan. Her body shuddered on top of her immensely attentive stud for several minutes afterwards until she shakily dismounted him, having another small orgasm in the process. His erection slapped her clit when it popped free, making Sylvie moan and gasp again.
“Time to refocus his attention,” began Charlotte, but Mistress gently chided her, saying that it was only fair that she give him his orgasm. Sometimes Charlotte forgot that the Sylvie persona wasn’t as businesslike as the Felicia one. “Of course, Mistress.”
She asked for the smoke that Charlotte had prepared and lit it, taking a glorious first drag, and then, exhaling smoke at him, began to masturbate Danny. She watched, somewhat clinically, as her Mistress had her boss grunting and groaning within seconds, forcefully thrusting upwards, using her hand and the special smoke to drive his arousal. She watched her Mistress smoke, envious of the incredibly sensuous style. I wish I could be that sexy when I smoke.
Soon, Dr. Mayer was making loud nonsense sounds and fucking Mistress’ hand with gusto. With the cigarette almost finished, Mistress took a long draw on the holder, let a big ball of smoke escape before recapturing it, and reached for Charlotte, who did not resist as Mistress kissed her, exhaling smoke around and into Charlotte. Immediately, she felt the wonderful heightened awareness of Mistress’ presence that the spiked smoke always triggered, and welcomed the rising sexual sensitivity and need. She kissed Mistress back, very deeply, and heard a very loud, throaty, distinctively male groan. Danny was regarding them intently with wide eyes. She wrapped her arms around Mistress, and kissed her again, passionately, wantonly, knowing from her Hawaii experiences that the overt

display of lesbian ardor from her would drive Dr. Mayer crazy. Within seconds, Danny was cumming, erupting as if he hadn’t had sex since before Hawaii.
Charlotte closed her eyes and gave herself to the rising tide of Mistress’ passion— and then it stopped! She almost let a squeak of frustration escape, but opened her eyes to see that Mistress was speaking to her boss, whispering in his ear. He looked very sleepy, and had a silly, crooked smile on his face. He blinked a few times when Mistress stroked his forehead. She continued to whisper into her boss’ ear, stroked his nose, and Danny’s eyes closed. A few seconds later, Charlotte could tell that he was definitely asleep. Then, Mistress turned to her, eyes ablaze. Charlotte instinctively reclined onto the bed as she prepared herself to be ravished. Her clothes were efficiently removed, and the world went blurry as she felt herself close around narrow fingers sliding inside. She gasped, and her mouth was filled with her Mistress’ tongue describing gentle, loving circles even as Charlotte’s hips began to move. Mistress was playing her, driving her to the peak, and keeping her there without pushing her off. She sighed, loudly, and her eyes rolled back into her head.
Sylvie broke the kiss and rearranged herself on the bed while using her lips and tongue along Charlotte’s undulating body. With a mischievous smile, Sylvie lowered her mouth to Charlotte’s clit and lower lips, and began to buffet them mercilessly. Her lover’s hips and voice rose simultaneously until, back arched and singing, Charlotte came loudly and for a long time. She finally collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving, and barely conscious, let alone cognizant. Sylvie grinned, quite pleased with herself. Normally, she wasn’t into girls, except as business required, but Charlotte had taken Sylvie’s lessons on style and sexiness to heart. It was as much a reward for lessons learned well as it was out of attraction. Besides, I must keep in practice, thought the spy. One can never know the next time one will need to enchant a lady vulnerable in such a way.
*** “So, Cutie, you know the plan, right?”
“Yes, Mistress… but… but…” Charlotte’s objection was interrupted when Mistress gave her a deep, long kiss. Starry-eyed and out-of-breath, Charlotte still wondered how this would work. All of this had been done to have someone named “Ellen” completely re-built, in face and body. Charlotte had never known why, but since Mistress wanted it, she did as well. It had been her job to get her boss to donate his skill and clinic, which she had done. So far, so good. Earlier tonight, however,

Mistress had taken her to a dark room where she had met “Ellen” for the first time. Unfortunately, it turned out that “Ellen” was yet another one of Mistress’ personae. So, if Charlotte were to knock Ellen out using the special cigarette holder that Mistress had given her, she would also knock Mistress out. But Danny had to examine her to figure out what he could do, and Charlotte didn’t think that the Ellen persona would willingly let that happen.
“It will be up to you to watch your boss and guide him,” said Felicia. “The three of us have—some things to discuss. Remember, Cutie, don’t wake him up until she’s out. I know you can do this. Now, come give me a kiss before I leave with Sylvie and Substrate.”
The kiss was long and tender, making Charlotte regret what she was about to do even more. Mistress sat on the chair, and suddenly, she seemed to shrink and lose her confident, commanding air. In her place sat an ugly, frightened mouse of a woman. “W-w-what are you going to do to me?” Ellen simpered.
“Nothing,” Charlotte lied. She turned away to insert the nose filters as she had been instructed, then sat on the sofa with Ellen a discreet distance away. “I was hoping to be able to talk with you. I’m a nurse, and I want to make sure you’re all right.”
“Can you get me out of here? Away from them? Please, I don’t have any money yet, but I’m very smart and I’ll figure something—” Ellen babbled.
Charlotte quickly brought the red holder to her lips and blew, causing Ellen to recoil. Her expression went from surprise to fear, and she softly gasped, “Oh, no! You’re… one… of… them…” before pitching forward, unconscious. Charlotte gave her Mistress a peck on the cheek and whispered, “I won’t let you down.” As she went to wake Dr. Mayer, a sudden thought occurred to her. She could determine Mistress’ new appearance and make sure that Mistress would look as beautiful as she was sexy! Charlotte felt an enormous twinge of excitement at the thought of how good Mistress could look, and decided that a stop for some fantasy and masturbation wouldn’t hurt anything.
“Wow,” said Dr. Mayer, “I can see why your friend here would want to make some upgrades. Talk about plain.”

Charlotte had to agree, even if the doctor was being uncomplimentary of her Mistress. “She’s—given me—the job of approving her new face,” she said, waving a cigarette case in front of Dr. Mayer. “And I know that you can do it. I also know that you have good taste and restraint—for a guy. Except for the tit thing. They need to be proportional,” she warned, “or no more smoky fun for Danny.”
“I know, I know,” he fawningly whined. “I’d estimate about a 34C. That’s about what her frame will support.” His nurse nodded in agreement, and the two of them worked for several more hours, just making notes. When they had finished, Charlotte lit a magic cigarette in the short black holder, and told her boss that it was time to go.
He followed her like a puppy, except that he had to stop to adjust the growing bulge every so often. They rode away in his Porsche to a nearby motel, where Dr. Mayer watched his head nurse smoke in that incredibly sexy way he adored while he masturbated to climax.
“See you in the office tomorrow?” purred Charlotte, taking a last drag from a normal Capri 120. She looked at Danny, gasping, trying to recover. He had cum forcefully again, giving her a funny feeling. “Danny?” he made a noise of recognition, and she asked when was the last time he’d had sex with his wife, and found out that he had been relying exclusively on Charlotte for sexual relief since before Hawaii.
This could be a problem, thought Charlotte. Don’t want Lexi snooping around too much just because she’s not getting laid at home. Maybe I should pay her a visit.
“Danny, I want you to go home and spend the day with your wife.” He was about to protest when she sharply reminded him, “No more smoke—EVER—if you don’t.” He nodded meekly. “Goodbye, Dr. Mayer,” Charlotte waved from the door. “See you Friday.” She climbed into the Infiniti and headed back to the warehouse. Mistress would be waking very soon.
“I’m also worried about the wife, Cutie,” said Felicia. “She’s bound to notice that her husband’s having—performance issues. And heaven forbid she finds a stray cum stain.” Felicia puffed on her cigar. “No, I think it’s a good idea for you to turn her into an asset. That’s good thinking on your part. How’s our stock?”

“I’m down to three treated Capri 120s, but it’ll only take one for her,” was Charlotte’s blithe response. “As long as I get her alone—or with Danny, it should be no problem.”
The assassin frowned. They were almost out of stuff, and Ellen’s friend Dennis was at least six months to a year away. “Why do you look so worried, Mistress?” Cutie asked, and Felicia tersely explained. “Well, as soon as Substrate gets me her shopping list,” the nurse replied, “I’ll go about getting Dan and his friends to get what you need.”
For once, the meticulous hit woman was too stunned to speak, but her face glowed, and she threw herself into her Cutie’s arms. “That little brat!” she finally exclaimed. “She never told me about you two having discussed that!” Charlotte opined that Substrate was too worried that Felicia would be mad. “Why?”
“Because the formula wasn’t perfect on males, I guess,” was Charlotte’s reply.
“Substrate!” Felicia called.
It always amazed Charlotte how much Mistress’ body language and bearing changed between her various personae; moreover, each personality was consistent. Gone were the icy calm, careful movements, and the steely, calculating glint in the eyes. Mistress now seemed gangly and awkward in her own body, and her face showed a bright-eyed naïveté. “Yes, Felicia?”
Substrate had appeared, but only briefly because there was another change. Somehow, Mistress stood taller; she was more —physically imposing. “It’s only because of you that we’ve gotten this far,” Felicia gently said. “I can’t hold you responsible for missing a small number out of a million or more reactions. The amazing part to me is that you got enough of them right to help our plot along. And in such a short time.” Mistress blushed at the praise, even though she continued to speak as Felicia. That’s interesting, thought Charlotte. “My Cutie here has figured out a way to get you more of what you need. It’s up to us to use it judiciously. So, you see? I couldn’t be mad at you.”
“OK,” Substrate smiled, looking much less depressed. “Can I work it out a little better before I come up with the shopping list? I may need to change some ingredients or the amounts.”

“Certainly, dear,” Charlotte answered, “but I may not be able to get certain things.” It surprised her when Substrate waved dismissively, telling her that what she needed was available in almost any college lab storeroom.
“We have time, Substrate,” interjected Felicia. “Go figure out what you need to. Any time within the next two weeks would be great.” She turned to Charlotte. “Cutie, how are you going to do this without money? It’s going to look a little strange if the good doctor starts spending like a drunken fool in addition to doing all this charity work.”
Charlotte had anticipated this question, and hoped that Mistress would approve of her solution. “I already need his wife, right?” Mistress nodded. “Lexi is the trophy wife of a plastic surgeon, and she has a trust fund. A big one.” Mistress’ face showed dawning comprehension. “Between that and the sex, I should be able to get access to a chemical storeroom or two.”
Felicia grabbed her Cutie and kissed her. Couldn’t have ordered a better co- conspirator. She’s hot, smart, and mine. “C’mere, babe,” husked the hit woman. “Let’s have some more alone time.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Charlotte smiled.
“Charlotte! What are you doing here?” Alexis Finch-Mayer exclaimed in surprise. “Come on in!”
“Oh, I hadn’t seen you in a while, and when I ask Danny about you, it’s always, ‘she’s fine.’ Thought I’d drop by and see what ‘fine’ means,” answered the nurse. Alexis was blonde, lean, and gorgeous to an almost ridiculous degree, although she was thirty-three now. Any physical flaw that Alexis may have possessed at one time had long since been taken care of by her husband, highlighted by the natural- looking 38D breasts. Danny was a tit man, after all. Just looking at Lexi would be enough to cause anyone to wonder why Danny pursued his affair with Charlotte, but to hear Danny tell it, the truth was surprisingly simple: while Lexi had the face and body of a sex goddess, she had the sex drive of a post-menopausal woman. Simply put, Danny wanted sex more often than she did. Well, Charlotte dryly thought as she followed Lexi through the house and onto the pool deck, I’m about to change that.

“Have a seat, Charlotte,” Lexi smiled. “I’m sure I can find you a bathing suit if you want to hang out at the pool.” In addition to her physical gifts, Lexi was a very sweet person, not at all like several of her neighbors who were the epitome of stuck-up, bitchy, trophy wives. Today, Charlotte felt more guilty than usual when she was with Lexi, but she consoled herself by remembering that she wasn’t here to make Lexi evil. They sat by the pool chatting, like female friends do.
“I’m glad you’re here, though,” Lexi said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “It’s probably nothing, but—has Danny seemed at all—strange lately? Have you noticed anything—different about him?”
Charlotte started, worried that Lexi had finally figured out that Danny was having an affair with her. “N-n-n-no,” she stammered. “How do you mean?”
Lexi hesitated. “Oh, it’s probably nothing. It’s just that… well, Danny’s been really weird like when we have cigars and brandy. He looks at me funny,” she complained. “And then the other night, he asked me if I’d thought about smoking cigarettes again.”
Sounds like Danny’s compunction is getting a little out of hand. I’ll need to fix that —or maybe not. Relieved that the affair wasn’t what was bothering Lexi, Charlotte seized on this as the opportunity she was looking for. “Actually, Lexi, that kinda might be my fault. See, I found this—” She pulled out her gold holder. “—and I thought it would be fun to play with, so I’ve been smoking these special floral cigarettes.” She put one of the loaded Capri 120s into the holder, and posed for Lexi. “See what I mean?”
Lexi laughed, “You look so old school, like 1920’s glamour! Is that real gold?” Charlotte nodded and showed her the stamp. “I guess Danny must be wondering what causes a person to start smoking as an adult,” Lexi concluded.
“Well these don’t smell or act like normal cigarettes,” Charlotte said, lighting herself. Boy, isn’t that the truth! She exhaled in Lexi’s direction. “See?”
Lexi sniffed the air. “Kinda like roses, I think. Let me smell it again…”
A half-hour later, Charlotte had Lexi staring adoringly into her eyes and shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “So now you don’t mind that Danny and I are having an affair, do you, Lexi?” Charlotte purred. She loved this part.

“No… I don’t… mind,” was the mesmerized reply. “And we’re still very, very good friends.”
“Yes… Very good… friends.” Lexi smiled vacantly.
“Are you really horny now, Lexi?” The woman’s frustrated groan answered the question well. “Why don’t you keep that feeling for your husband when he gets home? I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Charlotte smiled, and then paused. Since Lexi was completely agreeable, maybe she could find out why such a hot body was frigid. “Why don’t you have sex more often with Danny?” she asked. “Tell me the truth.”
“I like to ride and Danny never lets me anymore,” Lexi complained. “I cum easier, more often and better when I ride.”
Charlotte barely suppressed a squeak of empathetic comprehension. Until the magic smoke, Danny had been pretty much an on-top-thrusting-at-you type of guy. “Is that all it is?” Lexi confirmed that it was the heart of the matter. Well, I can certainly fix that for her, she thought, but it’s going to have to wait until later. Right now, I need to get out of here before Danny gets back. She’s going to obey me when I need her to, and that’s what I came here for.
“Well, Cutie, this is it,” said Felicia. “You’ve been so wonderful these last two months. A better lover, facilitator, and friend, I could not have found.”
Charlotte blushed. “I only wanted to please you, Mistress. I’m glad you’re happy.”
“You’ve made me very happy, Cutie. You always make me happy,” was Felicia’s reply. They kissed again, tongues dueling, hands stroking, and Charlotte was left breathing heavily.
“Zat was magnifique,” said Mistress’ sexiest persona, the Lady Sylvie Mes-Méram. “I could not let Felicia ’ave all ze fun. I like kissing you, too.”
“Thank you for everything you’ve taught me about style and being sexy.”

“You are such a good student, chère Charlotte, zat eet was not difficult. You will take excéllent care of Ellen, oui?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Charlotte affirmed. The two women kissed each other on both cheeks in parting, and Charlotte detected the change in Mistress’ bearing that said her Substrate personality was now in control. “Hi, Substrate,” she greeted the teen genius.
“I guess I gotta go with the others,” she dejectedly began. “But I wanna stay here with you! You are, like, so cool, even if you do like girls.”
“Correction, Substrate,” Charlotte giggled, “I like both. Now, c’mon, give me a hug before Felicia gets impatient.” Substrate did, and shot her a goofy, teenaged grin as she walked away. The nurse sighed unhappily. It was time. “Ellen, where are you?” sang Charlotte, more to discern if that persona was in control than anything else. A sob coming from an adjoining room told her that Ellen was now controlling Mistress.
She walked in to find her cowering in the corner. “Are you going to k-k-kill me now?” Ellen stuttered, her eyes filled with fear.
“I’m a nurse. I don’t kill people,” Charlotte answered. “And my lover would never make me do that.”
Ellen gasped. “You must be Felicia’s lesbian lover, Cutie!”
Charlotte was flattered that Mistress had considered it important enough to share that with her mousy persona. She also felt compelled to correct, “Bisexual,” with a sigh. Why do they always assume that it’s one or the other?
“Are you—brainwashed—like John was?” Ellen probed. Charlotte asked who that was, trying to get the frightened woman to relax enough so that she would drop her guard, and distracting Ellen enough to avoid answering the question directly. To Charlotte’s surprise, Ellen blushed deeply. “Ummm… Ummm… I was the one to test Sylvie’s mesmerizing gas.” Intrigued, Charlotte encouraged Ellen to talk about it. The mousy woman recounted how it had all happened. When she got to the point where Sylvie had taught her to smoke, she gave her captor an odd look.
“Would you like a cigarette?” Charlotte offered. Ellen hesitated, and Charlotte laughed, “Don’t worry. I’ll open a brand new pack.”

Ellen took a long drag from the Capri 120 that Charlotte offered. “Thank you,” she said. It was immediately apparent that Sylvie had coached both women. Charlotte remarked on it and after watching the other woman for a few drags, Ellen agreed. She finally resumed talking about her reluctant role in the mesmerizing gas plot. Despite herself, Ellen found herself opening up to “Felicia’s Cutie.” She had another Capri, and revealed her embarrassment at having a one-night stand. When the other woman responded with empathy, and without judgment, Ellen allowed herself to speak about the guilt she felt over having orgasms with an ensorcelled guy whom she basically used.
Charlotte hugged Ellen in consolation, who didn’t flinch. “But Ellen, sex is one of humanity’s most basic and powerful drives. You really shouldn’t feel guilty about having sex and enjoying it.” Charlotte grinned, “After all, the human body is wired to work that way. As a neuroscientist, you know it’s true.”
Ellen nodded, and felt a slight smile come to her face for the first time in months. The nurse’s presence was calming, and Ellen welcomed the chance to interact with someone who wasn’t constantly threatening to kill her. She seems so… human. Ellen finally screwed up her courage, and asked, “Would you let me go?”
“And have Felicia come back and find you gone? No thanks,” Charlotte replied. “But exactly where would you go, anyway? You’re a convicted felon and by now, you’re in violation of parole.”
She’s not gonna kill me, but she’s not going to let me escape, either. Ellen also considered what “Cutie” had said. The woman was right; nobody would believe that she had been held captive for almost four months, and that’s why she hadn’t seen her probation officer. Suddenly, a fine, odorless spray hit her in the face as she was musing. The nurse was looking at her with a regretful expression on her face. Ellen saw the red cigarette holder and realized—
When she came to, she was lying on her back, surrounded by people in surgical masks and gowns. She was in an operating room! A half-hidden face leaned over her, holding a mask, and he was placing it over her nose and mouth! Her arms and legs were bound to the table as she attempted to struggle free. A gloved hand gently grasped hers, and suddenly, Ellen realized what was about to happen. She relaxed, breathing deeply and regularly of the gas in the mask. Her thoughts faded quickly, and she felt her body becoming heavy and numb. These were the very last

moments of Ellen Dyson’s life, and Charlotte’s comforting grasp made it… much… easier… to… let… go…
Part 5 – Metamorphosis
It took several surgeries to rebuild Ellen’s face. Although Dr. Mayer had regularly cheated on his wife with his nurse, his skill and dedication to his craft were of the highest order, and it showed in the work he was doing. Charlotte was a little surprised at the high level of care Mistress was getting; after all, this was free, but Danny did not cut a single corner.
Of course, he was still her willing toy away from the clinic. It was turning out to be a good thing that she hadn’t relied exclusively on the drug to insure Danny’s compliance, because there were only two loaded cigarettes left. He was strongly addicted to her and whatever sexual outlet she chose to allow him; of late, it had been his right hand while he watched her smoke through one of her growing array of holders.
Otherwise, Charlotte spent most of her free time at Mistress’ side. Even though Mistress was unconscious or heavily sedated most of the time, occasionally she would whisper, “Hi Cutie,” letting Charlotte know that she was aware of, and pleased by, her unflagging devotion.
Charlotte had lost track of time, but one day, Danny told her that Mistress was ready to be released. Mistress’ new face was still in bandages, but Charlotte was thrilled to be back at the warehouse. “Cutie, you need to spend some time running errands for me,” Mistress said, finally able to stay awake for long periods of time.
“Yes, Mistress, anything!” Charlotte replied. Mistress told her that it was time to go shopping. She sent Charlotte into the lab to retrieve the list her Substrate persona had created. “Mistress?”
“Yes, Cutie?”
“Are you—? Is Felicia—? Or Sylvie?”
“Yes, we’re all here now. All in one, including Substrate. They came out to help me get to where I am. I can’t wait until I’m healthy enough to play with you again.”

“I’d like that, too, Mistress,” Charlotte softly admitted. “It’s been hard being around you and not… being able to—touch you.”
“You still have the wife, correct?” asked Mistress.
Charlotte meekly replied that it seemed that the drug had worn off because she had been so involved in— “Mistress? What should I call you when I can’t use ‘Mistress’?”
She could see Mistress thinking, even with her face bandaged. Charlotte eagerly awaited the pronouncement. “I think… I think… Winter. Winter diConstanza,” smiled the woman who had been Ellen Dyson. “Ouch. It still hurts when I do that.” When her Cutie asked her about the name, Mistress responded by telling her to start reading Alexandre Dumas, and could not help herself as a wry smile came to her face, despite the pain.
“Mistress, I’m leaving to reclaim Danny’s wife. I’ve made him invite me to dinner,” Charlotte called. “Is there anything you want?”
“I want you to get laid, Cutie,” was the immediate answer. “No arguments, either. I’m still out of commission for a while longer, and I’ve decided that you should not be without, just because you think you have to wait for me.” Winter cut off Charlotte’s protest as soon as she saw it forming with, “That’s a command, slave.”
Charlotte bowed her head in acknowledgement of her position. However, she couldn’t keep from smiling—Mistress was being generous and giving her explicit permission to indulge herself. And Charlotte had been having extremely hot daydreams of Lexi and her perfect body ever since she had heard Danny’s wife say, “Yes, Mistress,” to her for the first time. “Thank you, Mistress,” she softly, and gratefully, acknowledged. “We will have Lexi again—” An excited smile came to Charlotte’s face that she couldn’t suppress. “—after tonight.” She left the warehouse, aware that she was already a little wet with anticipation.
“Hi Charlotte! Come on in!” Lexi, looking delicious, showed her into their home. “Dinner will be ready in about a half-hour. Since it’s raining, we’ll eat in the sun room,” she bubbled. Charlotte greeted Danny there with a hug and peck on the cheek. He returned a grin full of hope that the evening would turn the way he wished. Not exactly, thought Charlotte, but there will be at least one three-way.

As soon as the maid started to clear dinner, Danny brought out the cigar box, offering one to Charlotte right away. “Danny,” Lexi said with mild reproach, “she’s not a cigar smoker.”
“Actually, Lexi,” Charlotte interjected, “I learned about them in Hawaii. They’re not so bad, but right now, I’m in the mood for one of my floral cigarettes, if you don’t mind.”
Lexi said it was fine, and the reappearance of the gold cigarette holder caused her to comment, “I think that is just too haute couture.” She turned to her husband and cooed, “If I had a 14-karat gold cigarette holder, I’d probably smoke floral cigarettes with it.” Danny grinned lecherously, any pretense of non-sexual purpose gone.
Both Lexi and her husband turned to watch their guest at the click of her lighter, the cigar box forgotten. Charlotte reveled in the attention, and performed a deliberate french-inhale for her audience. Normally, she would have finished by tilting her head back and slowly exhaling, but she had work to do. She exhaled directly into Lexi’s face. Danny’s wife smiled dreamily as she sniffed the swirling smoke, and sighed, “I love the way that smells…”
Charlotte walked around the table and exhaled again, this time directly into Lexi’s face, not caring if it seemed obvious to anyone in the room that Lexi was deliberately being targeted. Lexi’s smile grew, and her expression became more vacant. “Danny, hush,” she softly ordered to make sure that he was as spellbound as usual before she took another drag, and blew the smoke into Lexi’s face from mere inches away. When the smoke cleared, the look on Lexi’s face had changed to one of fascination—and lust.
“Lexi, do you remember who I am now?”
“Yes…” the drugged woman softly replied. “My sexy… Mistress. You are my sexy Mistress.” Danny peeped, but Charlotte’s stern look, plus his own dose of special smoke kept him quiet. She turned to Lexi. “Take your clothes off, and Danny’s, too. You’re going to make a wonderful play toy.” Charlotte gently grabbed her chin. “Lexi, you do want to be my play toy, don’t you?” She exhaled more smoke into the woman’s face, and Lexi nodded frantically. “Danny’s mine, too,” breathed Charlotte. “And you really like that idea.”

“Yes… Mistress,” Lexi gasped, tossing her panties aside.
“The first thing you have to learn is how to serve me,” Charlotte regally proclaimed. She finished the cigarette with an exhale into Danny’s face. “Danny, would you like your wife to suck your cock?”
“Yes Mistress!” he breathed, cock already hard and pointing at his wife.
“Lexi, do it—and play with yourself. I want to watch how you give head.” Lexi enthusiastically dove for her husband’s dick, engulfing it, and gliding to the root without effort. Good, clinically thought Charlotte, despite her own rising arousal. No man will be able to resist that, in case her money isn’t enough. We should be able to get the ingredients we need without any problem. “Don’t fuck her mouth, Danny. I don’t want you to make yourself cum yet,” Charlotte sternly warned, and he immediately stopped.
“Lexi, dear, stop. Have you ever tasted another woman?” the ensorcelled trophy wife replied no. “Have you ever been curious?” Much to Charlotte’s surprise (and pleasure) the answer was yes. “Then pleasure me, and find out,” was the next command. Lexi licked at Charlotte with a great deal of enthusiasm, but not much skill. The nurse maintained enough wits to command her male thrall to fuck his wife. “Gently now, Lexi, dear,” Charlotte purred, as she looked into the brainwashed woman’s eyes. Lexi had a difficult time obeying, because Danny was pounding at her, snorting with the effort. Charlotte smiled, and decided she’d like some alone time with Lexi. “Cum now, Danny. Cum for Charlotte,” the nurse lightly, playfully urged. As soon as Dr. Mayer heard those words, he abandoned his attempts at self-control, and a few thrusts later, he was moaning in ecstasy, pouring cum into his wife’s already-wet pussy, and obeying his Mistress…
“Sleep, Danny. Sleep deeply and long until I awaken you,” cooed Charlotte. “You’re sooo sleepy… all you want to do is sleep… Sleep for me… Sleeeeep…” his eyes slammed shut, and he sank to the floor, unconscious.
“Now, my beautiful Lexi, I’m going to teach you all about being sexy, just like me. And then Danny will obey you just like he does me, the natural order of things. Just think of all the fun you’ll have making him lie down so you can ride him and ride him and ride him…”
“Ohhhhh, yes! Yes, please, Mistress!” Lexi cried, playing with herself. “Teach me! Teach me how to be irresistibly sexy—like you!”

“All you will ever have to do for those lessons is to obey me, Lexi,” Charlotte purred, her own clit pulsing at the sight of Lexi’s simultaneous adoration and frantic self-stimulation. “Will you do that—forever?”
Lexi hastily agreed. Charlotte was so sexy, and it made Lexi want to learn all of those secrets. She couldn’t believe that she had never noticed that about Danny’s nurse before. She also couldn’t believe how hot Charlotte was making her, just by talking and looking down at her with such a— commanding—presence. And to be able to do that to Danny… Lexi convulsed with a scream as her reality was ripped apart by an intense orgasm that lasted… and lasted… and lasted…
“Do you feel better, darling?” came a soft, amused purr. Lexi sighed a happy, dreamy, “Yes,” with no concept of how long it had been since Danny went to sleep for Mistress.
“Good. Now we can go upstairs for your first lesson, and you can pay attention,” Charlotte smirked. “You don’t mind that I’m bringing my cigarettes and holder inside to smoke in your bedroom.”
It wasn’t phrased as a question, and answering no never occurred to Lexi. She’d get to see sexy Charlotte, and learn how to be sexy Lexi. Then Danny would be her slave, and everything would be just the way that the natural order of things should be.
Three hours (and several orgasms) later, Lexi was reclined on the sofa in her living room. She held a long black cigarette holder in one hand, while the other rested lightly on her husband’s head. “Danny, darling, you’re going to do everything I say from now on, right?” He nodded, looking up at her from his knees, spellbound. “That means that we’re going to do what I want when we have sex, and that’s going to make you very, very happy.”
He shot a quick glance at Charlotte, who was standing in the doorway. She gave a regal nod, and he excitedly breathed, “Yes, Lexi.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but smile as she looked at her protège, sexily reposed and in complete control of her husband. “Lexi,” she said, “I know that you have a new

toy, but you will manage to complete the little bit of shopping I asked you to do, right?”
“Certainly, Mistress. After all, Danny will run out of gas sooner or later,” smiled Lexi. “And besides, He’s gotta go to work and earn money for the shopping list. Isn’t that right, Danny?”
“Yes, Lexi,” he quickly agreed, his mouth hanging open as Lexi dragged on her holder, and snapped a ball of smoke into her mouth, then tilted her head back and exhaled a thick stream of smoke through her nostrils. God, my wife is so fuckin’ hot.
Lexi smiled magnanimously at her kneeling, fawning husband, feeling just the slightest bit of excitement at his submissive bearing. She reluctantly pushed the tiny, pleasant shudder away. “Mistress,” she queried, “are these cigarettes you brought for me the ones I should smoke from now on, or just for you?”
“From now on, my sexy Lexi,” was Charlotte’s playful reply. “You will smoke Virginia Slims menthol 120’s from now on—unless I tell you otherwise. They fit all of the holders I gave you tonight—you’re welcome—and the extra length is important for being sexy for Danny.” And me. Didn’t think I had anything left, but you’re doing the long holder thing so well, you’re making me want more. “Oh, Danny,” Charlotte casually sang, leaving her perch near the doorway, “why don’t you go upstairs and take a blue pill for me.” She held out her arm to keep him from running. “And don’t jerk off so you get hard before you get back. I will leave you like that. And so will Lexi,” she warned. With Danny on his errand, Charlotte fixed Lexi with a purposeful gaze as she took the holder from her. “I’ll finish this one, and then you can have fresh one, as soon as I start fucking your husband right here in front of you.”
Lexi watched Mistress’ posed drag and exhale carefully, aware that she herself was obviously spellbound. She didn’t care. “Yes… Mistress,” she whispered, awestruck by Charlotte’s sexy bearing. So this is how Danny feels when I smoke. Any following thoughts disappeared when Mistress told her to play with herself while she watched Mistress smoke, and until her husband was ready for Mistress to use. Both of Lexi’s hands flew to her pussy and clit as Mistress drew on the holder and french-inhaled with a flourish. She masturbated furiously as she focused on the sexy way that Mistress was smoking, and trying to bring herself to orgasm before Danny was ready for Mistress’ pleasure. She never heard him re- enter the room, his arrival unnoticed by her ecstatic cries.

The next thing Lexi knew, her mistress was mounting Danny, who lay on the floor face up, his dick pointing skyward. Now it was time for that after-orgasm smoke. She retrieved the nine-inch long holder, positioned herself so that Charlotte could watch her, and carefully placed a Virginia Slim menthol 120 in it. Now she was ready for her post-orgasm smoke.
Danny was unconscious, asleep, not having moved from where Charlotte had her way with him. The two women were cuddling on the couch, Charlotte fully dressed, Lexi wearing a sheer robe. “Don’t forget that little bit of shopping I asked you to do,” Charlotte teased.
“Of course not, Mistress,” replied Lexi. “I want to see you again! Danny is fun, but he’s not you. I want to be with you again… Touch you again… and…” Lexi’s eyes fluttered and she drew a sharp breath with her hand poised over Charlotte’s breast. “Mistress,” whined Lexi, “do you have to go? Can’t you just stay—” she pulled her robe aside and leaned back enticingly.
“No, Lexi,” Charlotte firmly said, standing up decisively, not letting her slave see just how tempting the offer was. “I must return to my mistress—you will meet her in turn, but by serving me, you serve her as well.” She strode to the door before turning to look at her pouting slave. “Call me when you’ve finished your task.”
When Charlotte was alone in the car, she turned her thoughts to her Mistress, mostly to keep them off of Lexi, and her tempting charms. I hope Mistress still feels generous when she gets healthy. I think I’d like a plaything of my own, and Lexi fits the job description perfectly.

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