It was day 3 of Sienna and Amber's meth-fueled, no-sleep rampage. I tried to keep up as best I could, but my non-amphetamine-enhanced stamina waned around 2 a.m. each night. I would occasionally wake up to pee or adjust my position and hear laughing and movement that indicated neither of them had slept a wink for several days. Kevin had kept his word and left a full sack of meth the day before, along with another pipe for Amber, a couple torches and a glass 'straw' that he encouraged be used for hot rails. The girls hadn't stopped tweaking since Friday afternoon, smoking and fucking and talking and cleaning without end.
On more than one occasion I had to bow out of the sexual escapades when my anatomy simply could not keep up. They resumed in my absence by eating one another's pussy in every conceivable position and doing a lot of kissing and snuggling, some of which I participated in. One side-effect that I had forgotten about was how tweaking had impacted the rate at which Amber had smoked cigarettes.
Amber was a heavy-smoker on a normal day, but while on meth she was a nonstop chain-smoker. This was mirrored by her impressionable daughter who had also taken to chain-smoking while she was high. It all resulted in me buying several cartons of Newport 100's to keep up with their insane pace, the rate at which I was emptying overflowing ashtrays was simply incredible.
On more than one occasion I would notice tar stains on both Amber and Sienna's front teeth and their fingernails on their right hands had turned a light yellow. I marveled at how voraciously they smoked, with Sienna seemingly unabated by whatever physical effects she must have been experiencing by ramping up from complete non-smoker to chain-smoker in such a short duration. If I hadn't known better, I would have assumed that she had started smoking at birth as opposed to just a week ago.
Her style had matured, and she was no doubt being heavily influenced, unconsciously, by her mother's mannerisms. She now popped large thick balls of smoke down her throat in dramatic fashion, opening her mouth wide like Amber did and allowing the smoke to dance just outside of her lips before being suctioned down violently. Accompanying her snap-inhales were the intense cheek-hollowing drags that Amber was known for, often commented on by others that said she looked like she was trying to smoke the entire cigarette in one drag.
As to their meth smoking tendencies, they were getting a lot of practice. Amber had picked it back up like she had it encoded into her DNA. Her consistently massive clouds and expert twirling, never burning the dope, was proof of incredible muscle memory and ability to recall. Amber had helped Sienna with her twirling and lighting for the rest of Friday and at times on Saturday but by this point Sienna was working her own pookie admirably.
Her clouds were smaller and less dense—often being expelled and dissipating quicker than the room-filling ones from Amber—but she was becoming adept at twirling and not burning the dope or the pipe. I enjoyed watching her progress over the course of the weekend, her clouds getting bigger and her motions becoming less awkward and more confident and knowing. I enjoyed watching her sit at the corner of the couch, her legs drawn up close to her chest and train her eyes on the flame while she melted puddle after puddle. She had developed a singular focus on the action, likely a trait that had helped her succeed in sports, and it was cute and sexy to see her turn that intensity towards something so taboo.
While the rest of her church congregation were attending weekly mass and spending the summer with the family, Sienna was doing everything she could to defile her young, athletic body with any substance she could get her hands on. The idea sent jolts of excitement through me as I imagined the naïve teenager that had originally showed up on my doorstep a week ago now in the throws of a multi-day meth binge at the command of Amber and I.
It was sick sense of pride to be sure, but the way it turned me on could not be ignored. It was absolutely intoxicating to be submersed in this foray into the depths of depravity. It could also not be overlooked how amazing it had been to watch Amber return to the life that I believed I'd never see again after all these years. She was in her element, back to filling her own body with pollutants as fervently as I remembered nearly two decades ago.
She was no longer the young, pristine teen that had begun the journey, intent on befouling her body as rapidly as possible. She was a 36-year old nurse who should know better and who should have outlived her adolescent impulses to engage in risky behavior and make dangerous choices in search of thrills. But here she was, taking time off work to smoke meth with her daughter. It was somehow even sexier to me this time—that Amber was in a stage of her life that should dictate her wild days being over—that turned me on even more.
It had always turned me on when women took up smoking after becoming adults who should know better, because it indicated an indifference to social taboos in pursuit of pleasure. A Devil-may-care attitude that spoke directly to the part of me that had developed this fetish in the first place. What Amber was doing was an extreme version of that and it was equally erotic to me as Sienna's own descent into that same life.
I had no idea where this journey was going to take us, but the present was amazing enough to subdue whatever anxieties I had about future consequences—at least for now. The only future I was often contemplating were the positive events that lie ahead. I longed to see Sienna continue to delve into her sexual deviances, being used and passed around like meat for me to enjoy afterwards. I looked forward to the continuation of her drug use, passing through the honeymoon period into true addiction where she was no longer simply chasing the thrill but satisfying cravings.
Eventually, I longed for the day when she would be shooting up and track marks would mark her presently unblemished skin. Imagining the physical consequences of her actions made me crazy—the wrinkles on her lips from smoking, the tar stains on the teeth and nails, the various marks and discolorations resultant from all-manner of substance abuse, the atrophying of her impressively muscular athletic frame, and the loss of cardiovascular stamina—all of those futures passed through my mind on a regular basis.
The thoughts of the physical manifestations of her lifestyle were so invasive that we had decided to manufacture some of our own. As it stood Sienna was still the same girl that had shown up on my doorstep a week or so ago. Unless you were to see it with your own eyes, imagining this precocious young woman with perfect skin, teeth, and hair—devoid of any piercings or tattoos—doing drugs or even smoking would be incomprehensible.
Even her current wardrobe was a presentation of her previously sheltered life, consisting almost entirely of ankle length skirts, long sleeve shirts and modestly fitting jeans. She had lived in Amber's clothes since arriving and barely unpacked her own suitcase, a sign that she had both physically and mentally shed her past persona. It was time that her physical appearance mirrored the person she was becoming and Amber and I were excited to facilitate that transformation—as was Sienna.
We were heading into town in Amber's SUV, although I was driving because the girls were too busy smoking and chatting feverishly, still geeked out of their minds. Sienna had absentmindedly started carrying her meth pipe with her to the car before I had to remind her that we were not trying to garner that kind of attention, especially if we were pulled over, to which she laughed and indicated that she had gotten used to bringing it 'everywhere with her' recently and forgot. I laughed at the situation and silently appreciated how attached to it she had become already but made a mental note to remain diligent in the future.
Our first stop was going to be the salon, where Sienna would be getting a haircut and a dye. I worried about her ability to remain seated for that long while tweaking, but my longing to see her transformed and Sienna's own excitement about it pushed us to hazard an attempt none-the-less. The appointment was at 10 a.m. and we arrived at 9:47 a.m., the salon completely empty other than one other person—an older woman in her 60's. As we walked to the front desk the stylist made her way from the older woman and greeted us.
"Welcome, are you my ten 'o'clock?" She asked musically.
"Yep, that's me," Sienna chirped enthusiastically.
"Alright, you're all checked in. Should be about ten minutes," the stylist said with a smile.
As I walked toward the chairs intended for guests, I felt a tap on my arm and stopped to look back at Amber and Sienna.
"Dad, I want to smoke a cigarette first really quick," She explained rapidly.
I smiled at the thought of her anxiety approaching as she imagined having to go without a cigarette for any extended amount of time, especially since she had chain-smoked two cigarettes on the drive over.
"Of course, honey," I replied.
We walked out of the salon and into the parking lot, creating a little triangle next to our car. Amber and Sienna shook out their cork-filtered Newport 100's and lit up, each pumping furiously on their cigarettes to ensure they were sufficiently sparked before snapping balls of smoke down their throats that were partially swept away by the wind. As both women exhaled thick streams of smoke that trailed away in the light breeze of a beautiful summer morning, Sienna caught my gaze and furrowed her brow slightly.
"So, what should I do to my hair?" She asked, only now seeming to think about the specifics.
"I don't know, what do you want to do to your hair?" I replied.
She took a pensive drag on her cigarette, thinking to herself and no doubt enjoying the newfound sense of autonomy over her appearance. She popped another ball of smoke down her throat and exhaled slowly with her thick lips pursed dramatically while she continued to muse to herself.
"I want to do something completely different. I'm completely different now and I want something that matches that. I want something wild and sexy. Maybe short? I know I want it dyed black though. What do you think?" Sienna volleyed it back in my direction.
