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In a dimly lit room, the blonde goddess commands you to kneel before her. She lights a cigarette, her fingers dancing with practiced ease. As she speaks, her voice a husky purr, she traces the tip of her cigarette along your cheek, leaving a trail of heat. She takes a drag, her eyes locked onto yours, then slowly exhales, the smoke curling around you. She brings the cigarette to your chest, pressing the hot end onto your skin, marking you. She grinds the ash in, her heel leaving a stark, gray streak, her smile growing with each flick of her wrist.