Posted at the badgirlkos Yahoo group, but thought I would share here as well. Hoping to inspire more Miss Mink/Sleepy Smokers stories. Miss Mink rocks!!!xoxoxo
Miss Mink arrived at the party in her silver-gray Rolls, where she was met by a smartly-dressed attendant. He opened the door for her, and extended a tuxedored arm. She exited the car amid a cloud of perfumed cigarette smoke, a gold-tipped white cigarette smoldering delicately at the tip of a long holder, held aloft gracefully by a matte satin-gloved hand. As she reached the door, she inhaled deeply and blew a quick, light puff at the handsome young man who'd escorted her. It was a low-strength dose of her pleasure-potion -- just enough to cause his face to tingle, and send him buzzing for 20 minutes or so. He felt a mild rush of pleasure as the drugged smoke stimulated a trickle of dopamine into his brain's pleasure receptors. He wasn't expecting it, and the mildly spicy floral fragrance caused him to smile somewhat awkwardly, and involuntarily. Miss Mink looked into his eyes, watching his pupils dilate as he stood in front of her, transfixed, for a few seconds. "Thank you, darling," she said, taking her leave and leaving the bewildered young man to stew in his own pleasured confusion.
Once inside, Miss Mink was in her element -- casually and gracefully mingling and socializing with the assembled crowd of VIPs and beautiful people. As she did so, she smoked elegantly from her holder, exhaling long sensuous clouds of translucent purplish-gray smoke which soared gracefully above everyone's heads. They, like the hapless young attendant, were unaware of the mild bliss-inducing and intoxicating effect the smoke was having on them. An effect, of course, for which Miss Mink had been suitably prepared in advance with an effective antidote. Oh, how she loved being the life of the party!
One group of young men was being rather rowdy, however, and were apparently exhibiting some resistance to the dose she had selected this evening. The hostess had become quite irritated with them. There were four of them, seated together, drinking too much, telling vulgar stories, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. The hostess approached Miss Mink and asked if there wasn't something she could do about them. The hostess was no fool -- she'd seen Miss Mink in action before. The hostess didn't want to ask them to leave -- they were much too handsome, and some of the ladies were rather enjoying the eye candy -- but couldn't something be done to, say, just improve their manners?
Miss Mink listened with interest and mild amusement, watching the four rowdy young men from a distance. One of them had been stealing glances at her all night. He would provide the opening she needed. She told the hostess that she knew just how to handle them.
Miss Mink opened her silver cigarette case and selected a slender pink tube. The cigarette was laced with one of her famous tinctures -- an irresistible floral perfume and pheromone base, cut with a mild paralytic, a numbing agent, a mild tranquilizer, and a dopamine catalyst. She'd have them taken care of in no time.
She placed the slender weapon in its holder, unlit, and approached the table. This was almost enough to have the desired effect -- faced with the approach of an impossibly elegant and beautiful young woman, clad in a form-fitting tight gray evening gown which revealed shapely curves, the men suddenly quieted and watched her, expectantly.
"May I join you?" she asked, as she arrived, smiling in a slightly wicked, but completely charming way. "Of course," one of them said, and they four shifted at their table, awkwardly making room. She sat next to the young man who'd been staring at her most of the evening, allowing the mildly drugged fur from her stole to brush up against his face, "accidentally". She made small talk and flirted with them for a while, charming them utterly.
During all of this, she'd kept her cigarette unlit. Now she sensed a vulnerability -- she watched as the young man who'd been staring at her eyed the holder as she twirled it absent-mindedly and hypnotically. She'd teased them long enough, and was growing bored. It was time to strike.
"Oh....do you mind if I smoke?" she asked casually, not really intending to accept "yes" for an answer. "I promise you won't find it offensive -- it's something special I had one of my chemists mix up for me. Quite different from smelly tobacco cigarettes." The young man who was next to her dutifully produced a lighter. Miss Mink leaned in and touched the tip of her pink cigarette to the flame. Her frosted lips drew gently on the holder and she leaned back, exhaling a four foot plume up into the light above their table. All four young men gazed at her lips, and their eyes followed the slowly expanding cone as it flowed from her mouth into a soft cloud above them.
They smelled nothing. Sensed nothing. Suspected nothing.
She looked at the young man next to her and smiled. "Would you like to try some?", she asked. He nodded. "Sure", he replied. "Ok...here", she said, grasping his face gently in one hand, and massaging his jaw downward. "Open up just a little..." The young man opened his mouth slightly. "More...", she said, applying slightly more pressure. She inhaled quickly from her cigarette holder, and a ball of perfect white smoke hung in her open mouth. A wisp of smoke trailed out of the tip of the holder as she moved closer, as if to kiss the young man. She stopped just short of his open, expectant mouth, though, and instead blew a soft stream of smoke directly against the back of his throat. She released his face, and he relaxed. A few moments later, the young man exhaled, and a disorganized cloud of smoke poured forth.
"That was hot", one of his companions said. She looked at him, smiling. "Do you want some, too?" He smiled back, "Yeah. Definitely! I want a hit of that." She didn't need to encourage them any further. Each awaited his feeding like an expectant baby chick -- mouth open, eager to accept. They didn't notice that their friend had started gesturing, moving his mouth, but without making any sound. A look of panic had started to overtake him. She moved in front of their friend, blocking him from their view -- just in case -- who was now starting to experience the effects of the paralytic on his vocal cords. She smiled down at her three new prey, and patiently blew a long, thick stream of drugged smoke down each of their throats and into their lungs.
Miss Mink stood up and surveyed her handiwork. Just a few seconds had gone by, but already the effects were taking hold. The men were trying to speak, but the paralytic had frozen their vocal cords, as well as created a sensation of heaviness in their legs. They were quite unable to move. What was most disconcerting to them, though, was the strange sensation of pleasure that overcame them. A blissful sense of contentment settled over them. In series, almost like fireworks, spaced at an interval corresponding to the time between each blow that she had administered, each man experienced a shattering orgasm.
Miss Mink stubbed out the cigarette, and replaced it with one that was longer, and black in color. The hostess approached, smiling, slightly intoxicated herself from the bliss-potion Miss Mink had dosed everyone with earlier, and happy now to see these four rowdies put in their place.
"Perfect, Miss Mink. Thank you so much", she said, gratefully. Miss Mink looked at her and smiled. "Oh, you're so welcome my dear. Don't mention it. I'm so glad I could help." Miss Mink returned her gaze to the hapless young men and smiled pitifully at them. News of Miss Mink's handiwork had rippled thru the party, and the men were now the subject of attention by more than a few of the partygoers, particularly some of the women who hadn't appreciated their vulgar remarks or their ogling.
One of the women, a knockout in a blonde bob with diamond earrings and piercing blue eyes, approached the table. "Just like I like them. Beautiful, quiet... and completely immobilized." Other women nearby chuckled. One woman, clearly in early middle-aged but still striking, leaned in and kissed one of the young men on the forehead. "It would be a shame if something happened to them in this state, wouldn't it?"
"I don't think we should spoil the surprise, though", the hostess said, looking knowingly at Miss Mink. "Yes, darling, I quite agree", Miss Mink replied.
Miss Mink looked back at the poisoned and helpless young men. They were breathing shallowly, still conscious, able to move their eyes and blink but little else.
"I think it's nap time for you, boys. Do you want to take a nap? Blink once for yes, twice for no."
They all blinked twice.
"Aw", she said, feigning mock pity. "Boys never want to be put down for their nap. But it'll be easier if you sleep. When you wake up it will all be over."
She re-secured the unlit black cigarette -- laced with a mix she called Rock-a-bye Stallion -- in her holder. The dosage in it was composed of an erectile agent along with a powerful sedative. The erection-inducing payload and the sedative were delivered by a perfumed opiate carrier, ensuring Miss Mink's concoction would be inhaled easily, and abosrbed greedily into her prey's bloodstream. As was Miss Mink's trademark, the experience would be mind-blowingly pleasurable, if not outright addictive for the victim. In fact, addiction to her trademark potions tended to be the rule, rather than the exception.
The hostess lit the slender black cigarette from a candle on a nearby table, taking care not to get too close to the smoke which wafted off the tip.
Miss Mink blew several long, graceful clouds into the air above the table. It hung in the air, highlighted by the decorative lamp, which gave off a pale blue glow. The misty clouds of drugged smoke swirled gracefully and mysteriously above the four men, before settling slowly down. In their state of paralysis, they had no choice but to breathe it. The other party goers stood well clear.
"Yes, it will all be over soon, darlings. But for now....sleep."
She inhaled gently but deeply on the tip of the holder. A thin wisp of smoke tailed from the tip as she withdrew it from her red, freshly-frosted lips. She leaned in towards them, her face a foot or so away from the young man on her left. She blew, gently, turning from left to right, misting them all in the eyes with a long single spray of smoke. They blinked absently, and she did it again -- blowing a long sensuous cloud from right to left, aiming her stream directly at their eyes. She then went to them one at a time, and exhaled a head-enveloping cloud of purplish-gray smoke, slowly and deliberately, into each one's face.
Their eyelids fluttered and closed. Three of the men's heads tilted forward as each passed out from the dose -- a few seconds apart. She and the hostess quickly caught each one, and gently lowered each young man's head to the table.
One man, though -- the one who had been staring at her -- didn't go down.
"Oh, my poor sweet pet", Miss Mink soothed. "Wants to sleep, but can't... Some men are more naturally resistant. But don't worry. For you, we have....something special."
She removed a small, modified surgical mask from her handbag, along with a small metallic canister. She broke a seal on the canister and affixed the top of it to a port on the mask.
"Now, be a good boy and don't try to fight it. Just breathe normally."
She placed the mask over his nose and mouth, and pressed a button on the canister. A soft hiss was heard, and the mask filled with pink gas. At first a single thin plume was seen being emitted from the port. It spread. Swirled. Grew thicker. Tendrils became clouds. Soon, the entire mask was filled with translucent pink.
He looked at her with fear in his eyes. If he could've been able to speak, he would've begged her to stop.
As it was, Miss Mink simply looked into his eyes, and smiled sympathetically. She watched his pupils dilate as the pleasure centers of his brain were activated. She smiled more broadly now, clearly aroused. She loved this part -- the moment just before sleep, when the victim was fully aware of what was happening to them, powerless to stop it, and yet deriving an illogical and irresisitable pleasure from it all.
His eyelids fluttered heavily, closed, and his body relaxed.
Miss Mink dosed him a second time to be sure, using a second canister to flood the mask. She held it in place for a minute or so before releasing it, and then resting his head gently on the table alongside his friends.
She wondered if in their last few moments of consciousness, they could possibly imagine what was in store for them.
Related link: 
