The morning sun painted the ancient town square with a soft, golden glow, illuminating the cobblestone streets and the thatched rooftops. The air had the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from nearby bakeries and the faint tang of woodsmoke from the village hearths. A young girl, no older than twelve, paused in her chore of carrying a pail of water, watching as a commotion grew around the gallows. It is Scotland in 1661, and it is the middle of the Great Scottish Witch Hunt.
A woman, dressed in rags that barely covered her bruised and shivering frame, stood atop the wooden platform. A noose, thick and unforgiving, hung around her neck. The townsfolk had gathered, a sea of stern faces, murmurs of condemnation rippling through the crowd. The girl had heard the whispers, the accusations of witchcraft, but she couldn't believe it. Not of the kind woman who had once healed her mother's illness with herbs and gentle care.
They read off the supposed crimes she has committed; being a Witch was the worst. She has been condemned to die by slow hanging. She is shaking and crying and pleading with them that she isn't a witch. They tighten the noose and bring up the slack, so she is on the balls of her feet. Her hands were tied behind her. For some reason, she is getting wet between her legs, and her nipples are hard. Her dress is cut off of her as she stands on the balls of her feet, the noose pulling her by her neck. She can breathe, but it is hard.
Someone in the crowd yells, "Look, the witch's nips are hard. I bet she comes in the noose.
The young girl of 18 shakes and cries. The order is given to hoist her up; she starts to scream, but the noose tightens and cuts it off. She is lifted a foot off the ground, her eyes bug out, her legs start to kick, and she can't breathe. She is lowered. The noose is still tight, but she can get a breath.
The hangman looks at her and says, "We can't have you dying too quick, can we?" As he hoists her up again, the crowd cheers.
She starts to kick and struggle again. Right when she thinks she is dead, she is brought back down. She collapses on the ground, only to be pulled back up to her feet by her neck.
The crowd is chanting, "Hang the witch, hang her."
The girl is crying, terrified.
Suddenly, the air crackled with an unseen force, and a blinding light erupted, obscuring the grim scene. The crowd recoiled in terror, their shouts turning to screams. The girl dropped her pail as the light coalesced into a figure—a man, dressed in clothes she had never seen before, with a strange metal box in his hand that hummed with an eerie energy. He climbed the steps of the gallows; his eyes filled with a fierce determination that seemed out of place in this time of fear and superstition.
The man approached the woman, his hand reaching for the noose. The executioner, a burly fellow with a cruel sneer, stepped forward to intervene, but the man's movements were so fast you couldn't actually see them. He hits the executioner, sending him flying. Two other men attempt to take him. The man pulls out another box that shoots a light that causes both men to fall. The crowd runs away, frightened of this new, more powerful witch.
He looks at the woman and says, "You have three choices; I will not force any on you, but you must decide right now." One, you stay here and hang. (She looks at him in fear while subconsciously rubbing her neck.) Two, you run away; my guess is you get half a mile before they catch you, and you are back here. Maybe you can get away.... Option 3: you come with me to where I am from. It is a place of wonder, imaginings you could never ever imagine. However, you will be mine to control. I will never hurt you with malice, and you will never have a want.
The woman is terrified. She is holding her throat. The woman looked into the man's eyes, searching for a hint of deceit, but all she saw was sincerity. As she considered his words, the noose grew heavier around her neck, a stark reminder of what awaited her if she chose wrongly. The girl in the crowd watched, her heart pounding in her chest. The man's hand hovered over the rope, ready to release her from the hangman's embrace. The tension was palpable, the fate of the accused witch hanging by a thread, quite literally.
With a tremble in her voice, she whispered her decision, "I will go with you."
The man nodded, and with a swift motion, he untied the noose. The woman gasped for air, her eyes watering as she clutched at her neck. The man helped the woman down from the platform, her legs unsteady from the ordeal.
The girl watched as the stranger guided the woman through the streets, his grip firm but gentle. As they passed, she caught a glimpse of the metal box, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly light. It was then she realized that his clothes were very strange, nothing she had ever seen before.
They reached the edge of the square, and the man paused and pressed a button on the box.
And with that, the two figures disappeared in another flash of light, leaving behind only the echo of the man's warning and a puddle of spilled water. The girl picked up her pail, her mind racing with the implications of what she had just witnessed. Was it witchcraft, or was it an angel?
The square slowly returned to life as the townsfolk dispersed, their conversations hushed and filled with confusion. The girl resumed her errand, her steps lighter despite the heavy heart that weighed on her. She couldn't help but wonder about the fate of the woman she had once known as a healer, now whisked away to a world of unknowns. Would she find happiness there, or merely trade one form of persecution for another? The future was a mystery, even to those who could navigate its very fabric.
In a flash of light, the woman found herself in a room that bore no resemblance to the dank, straw-covered cell she had been held in. The walls were smooth and unyielding, made of a material she could not identify. Machines hummed and whirred, their purposes as incomprehensible to her as the language of the stars would be to a commoner.
The man led her through the room, his hand steady at her back, to a smaller chamber with a large, comfortable-looking bed. He told her this would be hers for now, a place of refuge and sanctuary in this strange new world.
The room had windows, but they were unlike any she had ever seen before. They were made of a glass clearer than she had ever seen. That allowed her to see the outside without the obstruction. Yet she could not feel the breeze that played with the leaves beyond.
The man demonstrated a peculiar contraption attached to one wall, a series of chrome tubes, and a porcelain basin that he called a "shower." He explained that it would cleanse her with water, heated and pressurized to her liking. Her eyes widened with a mix of wonder and apprehension as he turned it on, revealing a gentle stream of water that misted the air with warmth.
He showed her the "sink," a smaller version of the shower that allowed her to wash her hands and face with a twist of a handle, and the "toilet," a marvel that would eliminate the need for the stinking chamber pots she had known her whole life.
His instructions were clear, but she couldn't help feeling overwhelmed by the sheer volume of new information. He laid a garment on the bed, a sundress of a soft, unfamiliar fabric, and informed her that she would wear it when he returned.
Before leaving, he produced a small, metallic object that clicked open to reveal a key. He inserted it into the door and turned it with a decisive motion. The sound echoed through the room, sealing her in.
He promised to return soon to explain more about this place and its customs. The woman stared at the door, feeling the weight of the lock behind her. It was not the first time she had been confined, but she knew that this was a prison of a different kind, one of wonder and fear, of safety and confinement.
Left alone with her thoughts, she approached the bed and sat tentatively on its edge. The softness enveloped her, and she realized with a start that she had not felt such comfort in weeks. Her eyes drifted to the sundress, a symbol of the new life she had chosen. She touched the fabric gingerly, feeling the smoothness under her fingertips. It was unlike the coarse, hand-woven cloth she was accustomed to. As she contemplated her situation, she could not help but feel a strange excitement mingling with her trepidation.
The noose still burned in her mind, a stark reminder of the fate she had narrowly escaped. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead. With trembling hands, she reached for the dress, deciding to embrace this new world, if only for the chance to live a life not dictated by the fears and superstitions of the past. The water called to her from the shower, whispering promises of warmth and cleansing. Slowly, she rose, ready to face this brave new world, one step at a time.
When the man returned, his eyes searched hers, seeking understanding and acceptance. He spoke of the year 2167, a time so distant it seemed a fairy tale.
She nodded, trying to comprehend the vastness of his words, the sheer impossibility of his claim.
He told her that she could never leave this place unless he was by her side, their fates inexplicably intertwined. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of being bound so utterly to a man she knew so little about, but the alternative was unthinkable.
To ease her fears, he offered her a cup of wine, a gesture she recognized as one of kindness. She took a sip, the liquid warming her throat and easing the tension in her shoulders. It was unlike any wine she had ever tasted, leaving a peculiar buzz in its wake.
Her guard lowered, she found herself speaking more freely than she had in years. He listened, his gaze intent, as she shared her story of accusations and torment. His hand rested on her leg, sending a rush of heat through her body that she had never felt before.
He offered her a small, sugary square, a confection known as a "gummy." She had never seen anything quite like it. He spoke of its power to soothe and to lift the spirit, to show her the beauty of his world. With a mix of curiosity and desperation, she ate five of the candies. Twenty minutes later, she felt as though she was floating, the room swirling around her in a kaleidoscope of color and sensation. He told her they contained THC, a substance that could open her mind to the wonders of this new era.
As the effects of the gummies took hold, she lay back on the soft bed, her body feeling weightless and her thoughts untethered from their usual constraints. The man, her savior and captor, sat beside her, his hand stroking her arm gently. Her heart raced as she felt the warmth of his touch, her mind a whirlwind of emotions she couldn't begin to understand. The walls of the room melted away, and she was lost in a haze of pleasure and confusion. The future was now, and she was utterly at his mercy.
He leaned over, his eyes gleaming with excitement, and held up a small, black rectangular object. "Behold," he said, "the television. It is a window to a thousand worlds." He pressed a button, and the object sprang to life, displaying tiny, moving figures within its gleaming surface.
Her eyes widened in terror, and she shrank back, certain she was witnessing sorcery. But his laughter was infectious, and soon she found herself giggling helplessly at the absurdity of it all. He spoke of images captured and transmitted through the air and of stories and music from across the globe, but the concepts were too grand for her to fully grasp in her altered state.
He took the device and showed her a smaller, sleeker version that he called a phone. "Whenever you wish to speak to me," he said, "simply lift this piece here and press the button with the number 7." He demonstrated, and she watched as he vanished from the screen only to reappear moments later. "Remember, anytime," he stressed, "you can call for me."
He left the room, and she sat there, the phone feeling warm and comforting in her hand. On a whim, she lifted the headset and pressed the button with the 7.
To her astonishment, his voice filled the air. "Hello," it said, and she screamed, dropping the phone in shock. It clattered to the floor, and she stared at it, her heart racing. But then she heard his chuckle, and she picked it up, her voice trembling with excitement.
"You can talk to me?" she asked, and he assured her that she could, even when he wasn't physically present. The magic of this contraption was too much, and she couldn't help but laugh.
When he returned, she was still in awe, the munchies gnawing at her stomach. He spoke of a place called McDonald's, where one could eat food that was both fast and delicious. He produced a paper bag, and her eyes widened at the sight of a steaming burger and a mountain of fries.
He took a bite of his own meal and gestured for her to try. Hesitantly, she picked up the burger, the warmth and smell of the meat making her mouth water. She bit into it, the flavors exploding across her palate: the saltiness of the cheese, the sweetness of the sauce, and the juiciness of the patty. It was a symphony of tastes she had never experienced.
The chocolate milkshake was even more of a revelation. The coldness of it sent shivers down her spine as she took a tentative sip. It was like nothing she had ever tasted before, a heavenly blend of sweetness and creaminess that seemed to dance on her tongue. The pot made everything so vivid, so intense, that she felt she could reach out and touch the emotions of the people in the stories playing out on the television.
The man looked at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness she hadn't noticed before. "What's your name?" she asked him, feeling a strange warmth spread through her chest.
"It's Alex," he replied with a smile. "And you?"
"Alice," she murmured, the sound of her own name feeling foreign in this new world. "I'm Alice."
And with that, the woman from the past and the man from the future sat together, sharing a meal and a moment of connection that transcended time. She had chosen this path, chosen life, and as she looked into Alex's eyes, she felt a spark of something she hadn't felt in a very long time.
It was a feeling that was as intoxicating as the beginnings of love, or perhaps just the overwhelming joy of being alive.
Either way, she knew that she would follow him anywhere. After the meal, she grew very tired and fell asleep on the bed. Alex left the room quietly and let her sleep.
The next morning he comes to her and takes her to the pool area.
The butler has laid out eggs, crispy bacon, and fluffy pastries that seem to have been conjured from a dream. There was a steaming cup of tea and a bottle filled with an orange liquid that bubbled with energy.
She took a tentative sip, her eyes widening as the fizz danced across her tongue. Hash browns, he called them, and they were indeed a delightful cousin to the fries she had enjoyed the night before. Each bite brought a smile to her face, and with each swig of the orange drink, she felt more alive than ever.
But as she reveled in the sensory feast, a shadow crept into her thoughts. Her family, her friends, hash browns—what had become of them? The memory of the noose was never far, and it brought with it the harsh reality of her past. Looking into Alex's eyes, she whispered, "How is this all possible?"
His smile softened as he began to explain, his words painting a picture of machines and science that was as foreign to her as the landscapes she had seen in her wildest dreams.
He talked of time travel, of bending moments and altering destinies.
She listened, trying to piece together the puzzle of his world. Some of it made sense, but most of it sounded like the tallest of tales.
Yet here she was, living it. She wondered if he thought her a witch, if he had brought her to this place because he believed in her powers. She wasn't a witch, she assured him, but she had been accused of it, had seen the fear in her neighbors' eyes, and had felt the sting of betrayal from those she had trusted.
Her voice grew stronger as she recounted her story of the whispers and accusations that had led to her capture. Of the trials that had been a sham, the "evidence" was nothing more than herbs and candles.
Of her mother's tears, her father's silent defiance, and the friends who had turned away. Alex's expression grew dark as he listened, his grip tightening on his own breakfast. He had saved her from the noose, but he could not save her from the pain of her past.
"Why did you choose to save me?"
"Because you had the most promise. I read about what happened in Scotland to several women during the witch hunts; you were the right age. He lies to her; he knows he will tell her the truth sometime, but she couldn't understand it now.
"Does it really matter? You are here, and you are alive."
She asks, "What about all the people I know?"
Alex pulls out a big book, called an encyclopedia. It has many stores and pictures in it. She is in awe. He goes into the book and picks the letter S and opens it and turns a page or two and starts reading to her about the Scottish witch hunts. She is told that everyone she has known has been dead for hundreds of years.
She breaks down and starts crying uncontrollably. He holds her and gives her some gummies, which she eats.
The THC starts to take effect in a few minutes, and she calms down a bit.
He tells her she isn't alone and will never be again.
She is exhausted. He takes her back to her room.
In the days that followed, Alex tried to distract Alice from her grief with the wonders of his time. He took her to a place where people paid to watch others play games with a small, round ball. The sounds of laughter and cheers filled the air, and Alice couldn't help but be drawn in by the spectacle.
Alex decided it was time to see if he could introduce her to smoking.
Alex comes into her room and tells her that he has something that may make her feel less stressed, if she would like to try it.
She says, "Ok."
He shows her the cigarette, something she had never seen before. He teaches her how to inhale, and she coughs at first. But watching him do it makes her want to do it too. She likes watching him smoke.
She finally gets it and is delighted when she exhales without coughing.
He shows her how to smoke elegantly, and he teaches her how to snap inhale and how to hold it. He is doing all this to make her into his perfect woman.
At first, the smoke was harsh and bitter, filling her lungs with a sensation she didn't quite understand. But with each drag, she felt a warmth spreading through her, a sense of ease that she hadn't felt since before the accusations began. She practiced, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she began to enjoy the game. It was a small victory in a world that felt so vast and overwhelming.
Alex also introduced her to music, the kind that didn't require a lute or a flute. It came from a flat, black disk he called a vinyl record, and it sang to her of love and heartache in a way that transcended the centuries.
He played her tunes from his favorite artist, a woman named Billie Holiday, whose soulful voice seemed to reach into the very core of Alice's being.
As she listened, she found herself swaying to the rhythm, the cigarette dangling from her lips as she closed her eyes and let the music carry her away.
These moments of pleasure were a balm to her loneliness, a way to cope with the vastness of the world she had been thrust into. Yet, even as she learned to navigate this new life, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was adrift, a relic from a time long forgotten.
The people around her moved with a confidence and ease that she could only envy. They spoke in tongues she didn't understand, their lives driven by machines she didn't recognize. But Alex was there, a constant in this whirlwind of change, guiding her through each new experience.
And as they sat together on a bench, watching the world rush by, he took her hand and whispered, "You're not alone, Alice. You're with me now." His eyes searched hers, seeking reassurance, and she realized that, despite the power he wielded over her, he too, was seeking a connection, a bridge between their two worlds.
She took a deep breath, letting the smoke from her cigarette mingle with the fresh air. It was a strange comfort, this shared embrace of modernity.
Slowly, she began to feel a sense of belonging, a bond forming with this man who had saved her. His world was terrifying, but it was also filled with beauty and wonder. And as she leaned into him, the weight of the noose around her neck feeling like a distant memory, she knew that she would do whatever it took to survive in this brave new world. The future was theirs for the taking, and she was ready to face it with him, one cigarette and one gummy bear at a time.
But with each new experience, there were also moments of doubt and fear. The candy-coated world of the 22nd century had its darker side, and Alice couldn't help but be drawn to it.
One evening, as Alex showed her the workings of the computer, she stumbled upon a site that made her cheeks burn and her heart race. It was filled with images of women smoking in the most seductive ways she had ever seen.
He watched her closely, his gaze lingering as she tried to mimic the poses, the open-mouth inhales, and the double pumps. He seemed to enjoy her curiosity, his eyes glinting with something she couldn't quite identify.
Her eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as she clicked on a link that led her to a world she never knew existed.
The screen flickered with images of naked bodies entwined, the smoke from their cigarettes swirling around them as they found pleasure in each other. She had never seen such things, and the sight of them both repulsed and fascinated her. Her hand trembled as she moved the mouse, clicking away from the explicit images, but her mind remained trapped in the erotic dance playing out before her eyes.
She tells Alex she needs to use the restroom, and she takes the laptop with her. Alex smiles and wonders....
Feeling guilty yet inexplicably aroused, she retreated to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The marble countertop was cold against her skin as she leaned against it, her heart racing. She reached for the pack of cigarettes he had given her, her thoughts swirling like the smoke that soon filled the small space. With trembling hands, she lit one, inhaling deeply, feeling the warmth spread through her body. The memory of the videos was still fresh in her mind, and she found herself wondering, wondering about the pleasure that could come from such acts.
Her curiosity grew, and she took the plunge, watching another video, this time of a young woman masturbating while smoking. The idea was foreign and taboo, yet as she watched, she felt an unfamiliar sensation building within her. She mimicked the woman's movements, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. Her breath grew ragged; her heart hammered in her chest. As the woman on the screen took a deep, exaggerated inhale, Alice did the same, the smoke filling her lungs. The feeling grew stronger, and she could feel the beginnings of something powerful building within her.
The moment of climax was like nothing she had ever experienced. It crashed over her, wave after wave of pleasure that left her gasping for air. The smoke billowed from her mouth as she screamed, her legs wobbly beneath her. In the aftermath, she slumped against the sink, panting and trembling. The guilt washed over her, the fear of divine retribution heavy in her chest. Yet, she couldn't deny the allure of this newfound sensation.
It's All So New
The next day, she was quieter, more introspective. The cigarette between her lips was a comfort, a symbol of her newfound freedom. But as she smoked, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear of the unknown, fear of the future, and fear of the desires that had been awakened within her. Alex noticed her silence, his hand brushing against hers as they sat together.
She knew he was waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to confide in him.
Finally, she found the words. "What if God is angry with me?"
"You need not worry about that; you are beyond that now."
Alice, do you know who the ancient Egyptians were?”
She says, "I think they had pirromeds."
He laughs. "Pyramids... They were the mightiest empire on the planet for over 1000 years. They believed the Sun and the Moon were gods. They had 100's of gods they worshiped."
She looks at him and says, “That is silly, there is only one God."
He looked at her. “If you went to Ancient Egypt and said that, you would be an outcast at the least... The thing is that beliefs change with time. At one point, I believed what you did; I was a Christian. I was also, at one time, a Buddhist and Muslim, and what I found out is that as the time changes, so do the people, and so do their gods. Someone always comes up with a mystical idea of who runs things.”
“Let's talk about this later. It is too deep for me, and I want to get high with you.”
Alex's eyes gleamed with excitement as he revealed the bong to Alice, a contraption she had never seen the likes of in her 17th-century existence. He assured her it would enhance her experiences even more than the gummies had.
Despite her trepidation, the allure of the new and the desire to please him won out, and she nodded her consent.
He filled the chamber with a fine, aromatic substance that smelled faintly of the herbs she had once used for healing. He lit it, and a plume of smoke began to rise.
Alice watched, transfixed, as he put the mouthpiece to his lips and took a deep, slow pull. His chest expanded, and the smoke billowed from his nostrils as he held the hit, his eyes never leaving hers. The anticipation was palpable, a silent promise of something incredible.
When he handed it to her, the weight of the bong in her hand was surprising, but she mimicked his movements, placing the mouthpiece to her lips and taking a cautious inhale. The smoke was sweet and thick, filling her lungs with a warmth she had never known. She held it as long as she could, her eyes watering,
Alex whispered, "Now, let it out."
The smoke rushed from her mouth, and she felt as if she were breathing out her fears and the weight of her past.
Before she could fully exhale, his mouth was on hers, his tongue pushing past her lips. It was a kiss that stole her breath, that made her heart race. He kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears.
She kissed him back, her body responding in ways she had never felt before, and the smoke remained trapped between them, a silent third presence in their passion.
When he finally released her, she gasped for air, the smoke escaping in a rush. She felt lightheaded, her senses heightened to an extreme.
He handed her a glass of water, and she drank greedily, the cold liquid a stark contrast to the heat that had built within her. Her chest heaved as she coughed a little, the smoke still clinging to her throat. But the feeling of the pot was like nothing she had ever known.
Her eyes met Alex's, and she felt a surge of something primal, a desire that seemed to come from deep within her soul.
He knew, and his smile grew as he pulled her closer, his hand sliding down to caress her thigh. The fabric of her dress was rough against her skin, a stark reminder of the world she had left behind. But here, in this gleaming room with its strange contraptions and even stranger man, she felt alive in a way she never had before.
The pot was like a key, unlocking a part of her she had never known existed. It was as if the very air around her was charged with electricity, making her skin tingle and her thoughts race. Alex's touch grew bolder, his hand moving up her thigh to her waist, pulling her closer still. The smell of the smoke lingered on his breath, and she found it intoxicating, a heady scent that seemed to fuel her arousal.
The world spun as he picked her up and laid her on the bed, the softness enveloping her like a cloud. He hovered over her, his eyes a brilliant blue that she could drown in. His kisses trailed down her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She didn't know where this was going, but she didn't care. All she knew was that she wanted more, wanted to explore this newfound passion that was as intense as the pot that had brought it to life.
The weight of his body on hers was exhilarating, the feel of his hands on her skin like a promise of things to come. As he undressed her, she felt a thrill of excitement that was as potent as the smoke she had inhaled. This was a world she had never imagined, a future that was both terrifying and tantalizing. Yet, as she looked into Alex's eyes, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be.
He lay her on the bed, the soft fabric caressing her skin as she watched him light up a cigarette. The flame danced in the darkness, casting shadows across his features. "This is not love, Alice," he whispered, "but it is a form of intimacy, a sharing of pleasure that is sacred in its own right."
Her cheeks flushed, and she took a deep drag, feeling the smoke coil around her lungs and fill her with a warmth that seemed to resonate with the ache between her legs. He knelt between her thighs, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in and kissed her again, his breath hot and sweet with the scent of tobacco.
Alex took the cigarette from her trembling fingers and placed it in an ashtray. Then, with a wink, he handed her the bong. "Take a hit," he murmured, "and watch in the mirror."
Alice took a deep inhale, the smoke thick and fragrant, filling her vision with swirls of color. As she held the smoke, he began to kiss her neck, his touch gentle yet insistent, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her body.
Her eyes locked on her reflection, she watched as he moved down, his tongue tracing the line of her collarbone, sending sparks of sensation to her core.
His mouth found the soft skin of her breasts, his teeth grazing her nipples, and she couldn't help but let out a gasp. Sucking the smoke deeper into her lungs as she held the hit, her eyes glazed with lust and confusion.
He looked up at her, his smile wicked. "Now, let it out," he said, and she did, the smoke mixing with her ragged breath as it filled the room. He took the bong from her and placed it aside, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her legs apart. She felt a thrill of fear mingled with the potent pot that still hummed through her veins.
His head dipped between her thighs, and she watched, transfixed, as his tongue flicked out to taste her. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, the sensation so intense it was almost painful.
She reached for the cigarette and took a long pull and deeply inhaled, body arching as he explored her with a hunger that matched her own. The smoke still clung to her, wrapping her in a cocoon of pleasure that was at once terrifying and liberating. She releases the smoke. He tells her to watch herself in the mirror.
Her eyes never left the mirror, watching as he worked his magic, her own face a mask of ecstasy. The cigarette is glowing hot as she powers through smoking it. The noose was forgotten, the cobblestone streets of her past a distant memory. Here, in the glow of the neon lights, she was free to explore the depths of her desire, free from the constraints of her old life.
With each stroke of his tongue, she grew closer to the edge, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Look at yourself," he whispered, his voice thick with desire, "you're so beautiful."
And she did, watching the smoke leave her mouth and nose as she strained, as her body responded to his touch, as her own hand found her clit and began to rub in time with his ministrations.
The world narrowed to the point where the only thing that mattered was the feeling building within her, the pressure that grew and grew until she could no longer hold it in. The smoke in her lungs burned, a reminder of the passion that consumed her. He knows she is close; he hands her the bong and tells her to take as much smoke as she can and hold it. And to be ready.
She takes the bong and thinks, "Ready for what?" She takes a 20-second hit on the bong and inhales the smoke as deep as it can go. The feeling hits her. She is so high, she keeps holding the smoke, not realizing it. Her mind wandering, she isn't sure what is going on, she has no control, and she is weak.
And all of a sudden, she feels the pressure in her lungs, and it hurts. But with it comes the most mind-blowing orgasm. She screams as the smoke comes out of her mouth. The pleasure is so intense she passes out.
When Alice awoke, she found herself nestled in Alex's arms, her head resting on his chest. She felt so heavy, so utterly exhausted, as if she had been running for hours. The pot had taken her to new heights, and she wasn't sure she would ever be able to come back down. Her body felt like it was made of liquid, and she couldn't help but let out a contented sigh as she looked up at him. "What have you done to me?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from the screams she had not known she could produce.
Alex smiled, a knowing glint in his eye. He reached over to the nightstand and plucked out a cigarette, offering it to her with a flourish. "Nothing really," he said, "yet." His tone was playful, but there was something else there, a hint of something darker. She took the cigarette with trembling fingers, lighting it with the glowing ember of his own.
The smoke curled around her, a comforting embrace in the cold, sterile room. She took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill her lungs, and held it, feeling the potent buzz of the weed still humming through her veins. As she exhaled, she felt a warmth spread through her, a sense of belonging that she had never known. This was not the love she had read about in the dusty tomes of her village, but it was something close.
Alex leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "You're mine now, Alice," he murmured, his hand stroking her hair. "Forever." His words sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she should be afraid and should fight against the chains that bound her to this strange, thrilling world. But all she could do was nod, her body still reeling from the intensity of their encounter.
The cigarette in her hand had burned down to the filter, but she held onto it, the warmth of the paper a reminder of the fire that burned within her. She took another drag, the smoke mingling with the potent scent of their shared passion. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she allowed herself to drift, to revel in the sensations that still lingered on her skin. The future was a mystery, but for now, she was alive, and she was loved. Or at least, she thought she was. The lines between reality and illusion blurred, and she didn't know which was which. All she knew was that she was in his arms, and she didn't want to leave.
