The sharp sting of rubber against her wrist was quickly losing its efficacy.

Miranda closed her eyes, and tried to focus on something other than the idiot sitting across from her. She pulled the band out and let it snap back into her wrist again. Even with her eyes shut, the blathering moron could still be smelled, his cologne doing a disservice to fine smelling arboreal scents by being associated with such an infuriating man.

In her brief, dark, reverie, Miranda knew that, once shrunken and shoved against his will into her mouth, the pleasing scents of his cologne would translate to a slightly bitter, but not altogether unpleasant taste, one that would be washed away by her tongue and saliva after a few minutes of savoring him.

She bit her lower lip and drew the rubber band out again, letting it bite her wrist again. She had to focus on something else. But even if she hadn't been able to smell him, she couldn't easily shut out his droning on and on.

In reality, he was explaining to her why he had violated the law again, how his violation of the law was not only reasonable, but just as well. Somewhere in the winding narrative of incompetence and arrogance, a jab at her responsibility as his attorney was woven in, and suddenly Miranda couldn't hear his words.

Instead she heard the muffled sound of him screaming from inside her mouth. He'd run out of air, only for her to open her lips just enough to let him take a breath and start screaming all over again. Each time the screams would grow weaker, softer, laced with weeping, and even sometimes, most wonderfully, desperate pleading for mercy from her.

Miranda almost cursed as she recognized another descent into her bad habits, and pulled the rubber band again. She barely felt its sharp bite on her wrist, all she could feel was his shrunken body in her hands, fighting against her fingers, each stronger than his entire body as she lifted him to her mouth. Even inside her mouth, her tongue could feel his struggles as she overpowered him with ease. He'd even make for a wonderful sensation tucked into her cheek for a moment or two. Until it was time to end it, and he'd be too exhausted to stop his quick drop through her throat down into her stomach.

This time Miranda cursed under her breath, and tried the rubber band again. The sting had gone completely out of it, and only a slight, almost gentle, crack reached her ears. She opened her eyes and glanced down, to find the rubber band snapped and fallen from her wrist.

Consumed with his own self-aggrandizing tale of inept financial chicanery, Miranda's client didn't seem to notice her stand up. Or walk around her desk to her office door. Or even the deadbolt lock being thrown. If he'd even heard her approach him from behind, he gave little indication.

The hex was already in her mind, and she could feel the power swelling and being channeled through her body, down her right arm, and coalescing in her raised palm. Finally, at the end of his narrative, her client turned around in the chair to ask.

"So how about it, toots? You think I'm goin' away for this?" He asked.

Miranda's hand fell and struck his face with a blinding flash, all of the spell's energy discharging into her oblivious client.

She reached down to the cushion of the seat, where her client hadn't recovered from being shrunk to barely an inch tall and seized his naked form, quickly lifting him above her head. Her tongue ran between her dark red lips once, wetting them in anticipation as her mouth opened wide.

"So much for quitting cold turkey." She said to herself, as she dropped him in.