"Here we are boys," A tall, distinguished man walks around the table passing out log-sized cigars from a box that looks almost too heavy for his hand. "The finest cuban cigars money can buy.. It's been a heck of a season, and we all deserve to relax a little." A small silver device is passed around and used to behead each cigar. Another man holds a match to the end of Jensen's cuban while his cheeks pull in, drawing back the heavy smoke. "Aaah, that's it." Jensen closes his eyes and thick smoke falls in streams from his flaring nostrils. The area quickly fills with heavy, sweet smoke. You try not to breathe it in but the smell is toxic and overwhelming, it's like trying to swallow fire. "Hey Jensen, I don't think the kid's enjoying himself too much" The man to your left remarks smugly. Your master opens his eyes to see you desperately trying to cover your face with your shirt. Immediately, his hand goes to his lips, where he had had his thick cigar held between his teeth, and he grasps the pole-like thing between his fingers, resting his wrist right by your side. You uncover your face and discover, to your horror, that the strong-smelling cigar is propped right by your side, between Jensen's bulky knuckles. The opaque smoke issuing from the powerful log flows right into your face. You cower away from it, coughing like crazy. "Poor kid, bet he's never tasted a cigar in his life!" some-one remarks. "Well that won't do," Jensen replies, "I like my cigars.. Any slave of mine is gonna have to get used to the smell fast or else.."
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