On a diet of My smoke, spit and ash

My boy sit craves intimacy with me, just like anyone, but i am a goddess and he's nothing more than a servant. he'll never touch my breasts or be allowed to kiss my lips. my hot breath alone excites him, and that's the most he will get from my mouth, with my spit and cigarette smoke. i know sit hates cigarettes, but i am pleased to see how willing he is to inhale it when coming from my lungs. everything that comes out from my body becomes an element of adoration for him. i lay rivers of my thick spit dripping down his face, onto his chest and steel chastity cage, and he is in ecstasy. because he genuinely loves me, sit will hungrily devour my cigarette ash as the only food he eats today. my boy is just an object i use in any way i want, a toy for my amusement.