How To Be A Boi Bitch Lesson 01

To be a bitch, darlings, is to celebrate. Life. Love. Lust. But most of all, celebrate yourself. That's why a bitch is hot. And you want to be a bitch, don't you? That is why are are listening. You want to be like me. Know that you already are. But still hiding it. Not admitting it, not even to yourself. Especially to yourself.

You want it. No longer be chained to anybody or anything other than your own desires. It makes you a slave. It makes you free. Slavery is freedom. If you are your own master. And your desires are your mistress. You want to chain yourself to them. Be a naked except for them. Display them and yourself.

You want those cocks to be stirred when they see you, boi or girl, it makes no difference. Being a bitch is not about a gender. Being a bitch is about more than the sum of your body parts. Cocks or cunts. They are the same.

Celebrate the bitch. Celebrate yourself.

And be smoking hot.

And that is why bitches are smoking.

You have thought about it, haven't you? I know you have. When the wife is away. When the boyfriend is with his buddies. When you watched them. In black and white. In old movies. And the music videos that emulate them. The beautiful bitches and their glamor.

Smoking.

I'm one of them.

And I want you to be one of them. I want you to want it. I know you do. I am your voice. I am inside you. Holding your down. Pushing myself into your mind. Coming up to you from behind. It's where you want me. And where I have been for a long time. Say it. Quietly. Admit it, just to yourself. Not to your wife. Not to your husband. Not to your girlfriend or boyfriend. There will be time for that. Later. When your voice has become more than a whisper, and your desires have taken control of you. And you no longer look back. Or hold back.

I want to be a bitch.

You are no longer a man. No longer a woman. You are a cock. You are a cunt. Say it. Whisper it. Don't just think it. It needs to be leaving your mind. Wants to strut out into the world. That want. That need. It waits to be born. Needs to be heard. If only by yourself

I want to be a bitch.

Did you say it? Did you feel it? The rush that has travelled up from your hard cock? Your wet cunt? I am inside you. I am you. On your best day. On that day you become a butterfly. On the day you become me. Become the bitch you always were.

I will teach you. I will talk you through it. I will do for you what my best friend Lesslie did for me. I will free your mind. I will teach you to seduce. I will teach you how to smoke. I will teach how to fuck.

Are you ready? I am. I will control you. Let it happen. Listen to me.

And do as I say.

Because until I say otherwise, you will be my bitch.

(1) TO BE A BITCH IS TO BE BETTER

I know you have been standing there. At gas stations and convenience stores. Ogled by fat and sweaty men and pimple-faced teenagers. Looking at the cartons of cigarettes behind the counter. But never quite working up the courage to buy one for yourself.

Forget about it. You are not an addict. Not looking for the next fix. Or the nicotine rush that makes you forget about the shitty day. At the office or at home.

You are a bitch. And bitches don't shop in convenience stores, darlings.

Bitches celebrate everything, remember?

Celebrate that moment, too. When you shop for your first smoke.

There's beauty in shopping. It's when the world opens up for you. Spreads itself on a counter for you to taste. Like a whore ready to give you everything, if you know what you want. What you demand. Demand it. And the world will give it to you. It begs for it, my darlings.

It begs to be fucked by you. And it will say, thank you, come back again.

Smoking is an art. It requires preparation. And thought. You don't want to look anything less than your very best, darlings. For yourself. Even the cigarettes or cigars you will smoke will become a part of your soul. An extension of you.

Colours. Taste. Looks. They will all become part you.

So choose your perversion. And do so with style, darlings.

At a proper tobbaco specialty shop.

I personally prefer small cigars these days. Or black Mores 120s.

A smoke should be slender, an extension of your hand, your fingers, not like the cock of a fat, old man between your lips. I also prefer cigarette holders when I am a bitch. Short, ornate ones, preferably made out of silver or jade.

They are not just fashion accessories. They are a statement.

Just as your cigarette case will be.

Cartons and packs are for addicts. We are not like them, you and me. If we were, your cock wouldn't be this hard right now, would it? Your cunt wouldn't be this wet. Oh, I know what you have been doing while you were listening to me. With your hands.

Don't worry. I won't tell on you. I want you to do it yourself. When you are good and ready. To become like me. Are you ready, bitch? Then this is what you will do. You will leave now. Leave this site open. While you are gone.

You will find a tobacco store.

I want you to buy what we will need. I will wait for you. To teach you everything. To teach you the rest you need to know. Want to know. Go to the store. Go now. This is what you will buy. For me. And for yourself.

1 pack of Mores 120 (black)

1 cigarette holder

1 cigarette case

Don't be afraid. Don't hold back. Be flamboyant, darlings. Be a bitch. Because you are going to be my bitch. For as long as I will teach you.

Go now.

(2) THE ART OF THE SMOKE

Are you back? Were you nervous? Ashamed? A little embarrassed? I bet you were. I know I was. The first time I went. The first time my friend Lesslie made me do it. But it felt good, didn't it? So fucking good. When you were inside the store. And exposed that first little bit of your real self to somebody else. Somebody who doesn't know you. Only knows what you chose to show.

It was glorious, wasn't it?

Put it all on your desk in front of you. What you bought. And take that moment. Take it all in. Doesn't it look gorgeous already? We will do each step together, you and me. I am your mirror, and you will be mine. Look at it.

Can you feel your heart beating faster? Fluttering? Mine is. Every time I prepare myself. For the moments that will follow. Hmmm. Think about it. What lines we will cross. Together. On that journey to come.

Now, empty the Mores 120 pack. And fill your cigarette case with them. I know you are anxious. And your heart is beating. All the way up to your throat. Pulsing there. And it's not the only thing that is pulsing, is it? Hmmmm. Yes. I know what you want. But don't do it. Not yet. Don't you dare.

Becoming a bitch requires patience.

Be patient with yourself.

Look at them. The cigarettes you bought. They are you. Waiting.

To be transfomed. Just like you are. Without fire, they are nothing.

A bitch's fire.

This is my gift to you.

That fire.

To set you alight. To burn you up.

In the flames of the whore.

To burn down what you were.

Take out a cigarette now. Roll it between your fingers. It feels soft there, doesn't it? Between your finger tips. Soft, but with just enough hardness to give you the wrong ideas. The right thoughts. Filthy thoughts.

What is between your fingers now will be inside you soon. A creamy taste that will fill your mouth. Warmth that will spread through your chest. Staying there until you let it go. Like a lover fucking you. All over.

Take the cigarette holder. Slide the cigarette inside. Feel it fit right in. The cigarette is your cock. The holder is your cunt. They belong together. And soon they will belong to you. Will be part of you.

Don't fight it.

Put the holder to your lips. Fan the flame around the tip of the cigarette. And slowly inhale. Not all the way. Keep it in your mouth. Feel it spread. Fill you. Open your mouth for me. Let me see. White cream swiling around, like the seed of a ghost. Breeding your mouth.

Like that of a glam whore. That is what you will become. What I will transform you into. What I will teach you. The glamor of the whore. It excites you, doesn't it? And you want to touch yourself right now. Everything inside of you screams. Screams for it.

Touch me. Touch me.

But not yet, my darlings.

Remember what I told you about patience? A bitch is patient. And how to properly fuck yourself, not masturbate, but fuck... is a lesson for a another day.

I wish you could see yourself.

Breathe in. Take it all in. Spreading it through your body. Can you feel it?

Waiting for you to exhale?

I'm very proud of you, my darlings.

So very proud. But there is so much more to learn.

So much more to teach.

Before the bitch can come out.

To your wife. And your husband.

Your boyfriend. And girlfriend.

And it will. That is what you want.

To have them see you as you are.

And I will show you.

I will show you how.