Mouth spread open wide with by a jennings gag, completely bound to a piece of dungeon furniture, this drooling mess of what use to be a man is now merely a fixture. Dehumanized, wide-eyed and vulnerable, stirring as he watches me take a long drag of a cigarette. My body is encased in glistening rubber, gloved fingers wrapped around the end of the cigarette as I pull it away from my lips, french inhaling before blowing my clouds towards his eyes. I can't wait to fill that hole with tar, long ashes to grace his tongue; the helpless expression on his face as I yank his head up towards the sky with my free hand by his hair before flicking them down into his mouth. Any ash that doesn't enter I scoop up and pop right in to join the rest, drool pouring from his chin; making a lovely addition to his grimacing face. What once was a man is now merely an ashtray, disposable.
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