The Cooper Girls, Part 3

Author's warning: The following story contains graphic descriptions of the
effects of smoking and adult language and situations. It is not recommended
that you read it unless you are an adult and are not offended by the
aforementioned language. The opinions expressed in this story are solely
the author's and do not reflect on any individuals who carry the story on
their websites or archives. The people and situations portrayed in the
story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead
are coincidental. Proceed at your own risk and enjoy the story.

The Cooper Girls
PART 3: CHANGES AND QUESTIONS

The next morning she woke up as usual and came to the breakfast table.
Though she was now irritated by the thick smoke in the air, she was no
longer angry. Being an even-tempered sort of person, she didn't stay angry
for very long. Her mother really did a pretty good job of raising her.

After breakfast, Barbara went out for a quick jog, just long enough to have
enough exercise to stay healthy. After she returned, she saw that Rita was
watching Saturday morning cartoons. She sat down next to her and gave her a
loving rub on her belly. "Guess what it's time for?"

"What? ... Oh yeah." Rita replied.

Barbara said "That's right, it's time for me to teach you to inhale." She
then picked up the pack Rita started yesterday and fished out a new
cigarette. "Now listen up. The first puff will most likely make you cough,
but  we can try to make it as painless as possible. I want you to draw just
a tiny bit of smoke into your mouth - not like yesterday. That was to get
used to having a full puff of smoke in your mouth. Now that we're working
on getting your lungs used to the smoke, we'll have to go slower because
the smoke makes a lot more impact there - as you're so irritatingly aware."

Rolling her eyes sarcastically, Rita let her mother light the cigarette
before handing it to her. Once it waslit she took a pull on it and drew
some smoke into her mouth just to review. It really didn't taste so bad
this time. It almost tasted a little like tea or something. It seemed like
her mouth got used to the smoke. She thought to herself 'Even though this
isn't so bad, now I sure don't see how someone could sacrifice their health
for this.'

Before she took her next puff, Rita's mother took the cigarette and
demonstrated how she was to smoke. She drew a little bit of smoke into her
mouth, then opened it wide so that Rita could see the little smoke cloud in
her mouth then slowly inhaled with exaggerated movement to clarify what she
was doing. "Inhale slowly", she said.

Barbara then handed the cigarette back to Rita, who prepared to inhale. She
wrapped her small lips around the filter and drew a small amount of smoke
into her mouth. Then, with fingers crossed, she slowly began to breathe in.
Immediately she felt a huge jolt in her chest as though a bomb went off in
it. She lost her breath and began to cough as the smoke caught in her
throat. She stood up and walked around a bit as the coughing continued.
She'd never felt pain in her chest like this before and was very upset and
disturbed by it.

"Oh my GOD, mom! How could you do this every day. This is awful. I thought
my lungs weren't supposed to feel anything. This is crazy." The soreness
immediately subsided once the coughing ended, allowing Rita to regain her
composure.

"Your lungs aren't hurting, it's your throat that's been irritated."
Barbara replied. "You'll only feel this way with the first few puffs, hon.
If it felt like that all the time, no one would smoke."

Rita nodded in understanding and sat herself back on the couch next to her
mother. She began to feel slightly dizzy, but continued on with the
experiment. She once again brought the cigarette to her lips and drew ever
so lightly. Once her mouth was again filled with smoke, she braced herself
as she drew it in - even gentler this time. As the smoke cleared her
slightly irritated throat, it began to fill her lungs. A feeling of
fullness engulfed Rita's virgin chest as the smoke spread throughout her
respiratory organs. It took all her concentration to meter her exhale in a
way that wouldn't catch the smoke in her throat again. Once she was
finished exhaling, she gazed in unbelief at the cloud of smoke that lay
before her. That very cloud was inside her delicate lungs. It was like she
purposely sucked on the exhaust pipe of a bus to draw the smoke that came
out of it into her lungs. What a crazy concept.

Before ten seconds passed, she brought the cigarette to her lips for a
third puff. She repeated the refined maneuver she had mastered with the
previous puff and felt her chest again fill with the polluted air. Though
she was a little sore in the throat still, she was no longer in danger of
coughing. It seemed to her as though coughing the smoke out is what caused
most of the pain - probably because it caused the smoke to be concentrated
between the constricted muscles in her throat while a large volume of smoke
was expelled quickly. Without the coughing, she felt pretty good, though
she was still unimpressed by the so-called "joy" of smoking.

"You're doing pretty well. It's not so bad, is it?" Barbara commented.

"That's true, but it's not so good either." Rita replied as she started on
her fourth puff. By this time the dizziness was growing and began to make
her groggy.

Her mother told her that she'd had enough for a while and would continue
later. She wanted to make sure Rita didn't get sick on her first cigarette.
Rita felt a sense of relief that it was over, but she felt anxiety about
having to repeat that so many times in the future.

As she lay down to watch more Saturday morning cartoons, Rita contemplated
the feeling of dizziness she experienced from her first cigarette. It felt
pretty good - as though she had been spinning. She didn't feel at all sick,
thanks to her mother's careful tutelage (unbeknownst to her). The soreness
in her throat was completely gone after a few minutes. Once her mother left
the room, Rita reached into the ashtray and picked up the cigarette she had
just inhaled from. She studied the brown color of the filter and thought
about what the tar in her lungs that slipped past the filter was doing
inside her. It was just sitting there, she guessed. It was such a strange
concept for her to have purposely put that tar in her lungs. It's like
you're helping an enemy of yours to hurt you. Yet her mother was right. One
would never know if you didn't think about it that anything at all was in
your lungs.

She put down her filter and looked at the thirty or so filters from her
mother's cigarettes. They were all much darker than hers. Her mother's
lungs must be black, she thought. It's amazing that her mother could jog
and do all the things that she did considering how damaged her respiratory
system was. She figured that the deceptively absent outward signs of the
damage caused by smoking is perhaps the reason that smokers allow
themselves to so thoroughly damage their lungs. Still staring at the
filters, another feeling began to arise inside of her, but she dismissed it
and went back to her cartoons.

A couple of hours later, Barbara found Rita on the phone with one of her
friends. She wordlessly motioned for her to get off the phone. When Rita
said goodbye and hung up, Barbara indicated that it was time for her to
smoke another cigarette. This time bringing the cigarettes and ashtray into
Rita's room, they sat down together and continued the experiment.

"This time we're going to see if you can inhale a little more smoke than
before." Barbara said. "I want you to draw about twice as much smoke as you
did last time and then hold it in for a couple of seconds."

"I need to hold it in so the stuff in the smoke can soak into my lungs and
get them more used to it, right?" Rita asked in a disdainful manner.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it that way but I guess that's the general
idea." Barbara answered.  She then lit up another cigarette for Rita and
handed it to her.

Rita compliantly brought the lit cigarette to her soft lips and began to
suck on the filter. Once again her mouth filled with smoke. There was no
denying that the flavor was definitely on the pleasing side at this point.
She was grateful for that considering that inhaling was still so god-awful.
Once her mouth was filled with smoke, she inhaled gently. Her young,
flexible lungs expanded to make way for the rich, dirty smoke that flooded
into them. She held her breath for a couple of seconds to allow the tar
more time than it had before to lodge itself into the flesh in her lungs,
which she regretfully did to honestly hold up her part of the agreement.
She didn't feel like coughing at all even after exhaling the smoke. The
dizziness she felt before returned, though not as immediately this time,
with each successive puff. In all, she took eight more puffs off of the
cigarette. Each one was easier than the last.

She ironically felt a little proud of herself. She felt like she was strong
and bold enough to meet her mother's challenge without cowardice. She felt
a sense of superiority for daring to foray into her mother's world of
smoking and felt like she could now be taken much more seriously in her
efforts to convince her mother to quit. Smoking a carton wouldn't be so
bad. In the end her will would be triumphant.

Once the cigarette was stubbed out, Barbara told Rita that she expected her
to smoke three more cigarettes today and five more tomorrow. Beyond that,
she wanted her to smoke five cigarettes each and every day for the next
week. Next weekend they would re-evaluate how many Rita can handle and
increase the amount accordingly. Rita consented with a sly grin.

Barbara went to her bedroom to relax. She had been going through ads and
customizing her resumes for each one with the help of the manuals she got
all day. Making Rita smoke a cigarette made her crave one really badly, so
she lit one up. Once her chest was filled with smoke, she really began to
relax and unwind. She was happy about the experiment she was putting her
daughter through. Rita didn't realize it, but there was a bigger reason
that she was doing what she was doing. The Cooper women had a legacy they
swore to continue. Every woman in the cooper family since the revolutionary
war was a smoker. When they started in the eighteenth century it was looked
down upon for a woman to smoke and that didn't stop them. Now that it's
beginning to be looked down upon for anyone to smoke, that won't stop them
either. Only three generations had it relatively easy: Barbara's
grandmother, Barbara's mother, and Barbara herself until recently.

Just as she told Rita, most people enjoy smoking once they get used to it.
There was a difference with the Cooper women, though. They THRIVED on
smoke. It made them feel better than anything else in the world. It was
most likely a genetic pre-disposition. Their bodies just seemed to embrace
the smoke with a greater sense of joy than most people did. The unwritten
rule in the Cooper family was that the girl starts smoking at the age of
nine. That's the way it's always been. She had one more year to go before
she would introduce Rita to smoking, but that damn class of hers messed it
up. She knew she had to get Rita smoking before a strong anti-smoking
attitude developed in her as a result of what she was taught, so it looks
like Rita is by default the youngest Cooper woman to ever start.

She didn't regret teaching Rita to start smoking and getting her hooked on
it. It was a natural, inevitable thing for her to do as far as she was
concerned. She didn't lie when she told her that smoking would increase the
quality of her life. Cooper women had been through various bouts of poverty
and suffering as well as the depression. The one thing that kept their
spirits up was their smoking. It helped them through all the hard times and
stayed with them through the good times.

There was also another aspect to the family's love of smoking that she
would soon share with Rita. It, too, was doubtless determined by genetics.
As she thought about these things, Barbara took one last drag on her
cigarette and inhaled it as deeply as it could possibly go into her lungs.
She held it in for about a minute and exhaled, then drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Rita got up bright and early - earlier than usual for
some reason. She went into the kitchen and noticed that her mother wasn't
there. Apparently, she got up before her mother. There was a slightly bleak
quality about  the house this morning and Rita soon realized that this may
be because of the fact that there was no smoke lingering in the air. She
happily thought to herself that this would one day be the norm each and
every morning. She figured that any change, even positive, can be
depressing and would soon pass.

Rita somehow felt a little more grown-up and began to cook breakfast
herself. As was usual for Sunday morning, she made eggs. As they were
cooking, she heard a noise coming from her mother's room. She quietly
stalked down the hall to investigate and noticed that it was intense
coughing she heard. Her mother sounded like she was coughing up a lung. it
was worrisome. She then heard the familiar click of a lighter and the
coughing subsided. Rita had no idea that her mother went through this every
morning. She couldn't help but worry about her.

Rita finished the eggs and put out her mother's plate before she sat down
to eat at her own. When her mother came into the dining room she was
shocked by the sight of Rita having made breakfast.

"Wow, what's this all about?" she asked.

"I just got up and figured I would make breakfast this morning." Rita replied.

Barbara thanked her and sat down to eat, stubbing out her first cigarette
of the morning as she began. She thought to herself 'Changes happen to the
Cooper women when they start smoking. Some people consider themselves as
having reached adulthood when they turn 18, but Cooper woman turn into
adults as soon as they start smoking.' She knew that more inevitable
changes were to come.

As soon as they finished breakfast, Barbara signaled to Rita that it was
time tosmoke another cigarette. She said "It's time now to introduce you to
the best moment a smoker can experience: The early morning cigarette. It
won't feel as good to you yet as if you were a more experienced smoker, but
you'll feel some pleasure simply because of the fact that your lungs are
pretty used to smoke by now and they won't be distracted by discomfort."

Rita took a seat next to her mother in the living room and almost looked
forward to today's cigarette. She was so proud of being up to the once
seemingly impossible challenge of  smoking that she took a good deal of
pleasure in it. She felt so grown-up because of this and also because...she
wasn't sure, but...it just seemed a little bit exciting doing something bad
like smoking for a while. She felt somewhat comfortable with these feelings
because she knew any damage she did would be undone soon. It would be
unthinkable to keep it up for years as her mother had, but a little bit of
naughtiness was nice.

This time her mother taught her how to light the cigarette herself. She
told her that she needed to be sucking on the cigarette while the flame was
at the tip for it to light properly and showed her how it was done. She
then took out a fresh cigarette for Rita, keeping the lit one for herself,
and coached her with it. Rita had no problems and was immediately ready to
smoke it.

Rita brought the freshly lit cigarette to her lips and began to draw on it
until her mouth was completely filled with smoke. She felt confident enough
to take a much larger puff than ever before. She breathed in and
experienced her first complete lungful of smoke as the rich material was
swept deep into her chest. Her pre-pubescent ribcage expanded to allow room
for the toxic bounty she willed into her young body until she reached her
maximum capacity. As she held the smoke inside her precious lungs she began
to feel a lighter and more pleasant intoxication than she had felt from
previous cigarettes. She held the smoke for what must have been a full
minute before she exhaled. The cloud that came out of her small mouth was
ironically thin though robustly consistent. She wondered how this could be,
considering the size of her puff, but immediately realized that most of the
smoke was absorbed into her lungs when she held it in for so long. She
wasn't sure why she held it as long as she did, but it just seemed to feel
comfortable and natural.

Barbara looked on with amazement, trying to mask it as best she could. Any
doubts she had about her family legacy were immediately put to rest at this
point. Very few people in the world could smoke like that the day after
they learned to inhale. Rita's destiny was secured from this day forth. She
felt a little jealous about her daughter in one respect. Her daughter's
lungs seemed to retain much more of the smoke than her's would in a similar
amount of time. She knew that this was because of the fact that Rita's
lungs had much more living, viable lung area to absorb the tars in the
smoke. She also had a greater lung capacity than her own mother regardless
of her smaller size and thus had more room in her chest for the smoke to be
absorbed. Barbara wasn't jealous about her daughter's healthier lungs, but
about her ability to breathe and absorb so much smoke. She knew, however,
that she was much better off now, because she was reaping the rewards of
all the smoke she'd absorbed in her youth. Soon Rita's lungs would be much
more like her own.

Rita took another puff of the cigarette. This time she inhaled a huge
lungful, but held it for a  mere two seconds before blowing it out. What
she saw when she exhaled was startling. An endless cloud of thick, opaque
smoke poured forth from her lips. It was so thick that the objects on the
other side of it were completely blocked from her sight as the main stream
was expelled. She continued to exhale increasingly thin whisps of smoke for
the next six or seven breaths.

Rita felt a warm intoxication spreading to every part of her body as the
smoke completely emptied from her chest. Her chest and throat didn't feel at
all irritated or uncomfortable. Instead, they felt light and refreshed. A
sile nt lucidity took hold of her young eight year old body and rocked her in
a sense of peace and calm. She suddenly caught herself reveling in the
pleasure that rocked her body and immediately felt a sense of shame. She
turned her shame around in an instant and prided herself in having the
courage to go so far as to sense the enjoyment that her mother sensed when
she smoked. This would make her even more credible as an advocate for her
mother's quitting. Even this good feeling wasn't worth the damage a smoker
did to their body; was it? No way.

She took another similarly large, but shortly held puff. As the thick smoke
poured out of her, she reflected that the difference between the first puff
and these two were that all the smoke she saw in the second and third
clouds was soaked into her lungs in the first puff. She could actually SEE
the smoke in her current puff that had coated her lungs in the first. It
was so much. How did it all soak into her? Was there now a brown coating on
her lungs like the stain on a spent cigarette filter? She wanted to compare
puffs again, so she took another large lungful of smoke and held it for a
minute or so. When she exhaled it was again a thin cloud of smoke that
exited her. 'Wow, she thought, My lungs can really soak smoke into them.
They can just keep doing it over and over.'

Seeing Rita's progress, Barbara felt secure in proceeding to the next step.
She wanted to have Rita smoke while she wasn't around. "I'm going to spend
the day with Robert, honey. I'm taking off in a half hour and I'll be back
at 9:pm. What I want you to do is smoke four more cigarettes today as we
agreed. If you say I can trust you to do it, then I will. If you cheat,
remember that it wouldn't be fair to ask me to quit if you didn't hold up
your share of the bargain."

"You can trust me mom." Rita replied. "I'll smoke a total of four
cigarettes today no matter what."

With that, Barbara got ready, then left the house. Rita was easily mature
enough to take care of herself at home at the tender age of eight. In a
small town like theirs it was accepted that parents leave their kids
unattended at what ever age they were ready. She had all the emergency
numbers she needed and neighbors were more than willing to take care of any
problems she may have.

Once her mother left, Rita decided to take a shower. She went to the
bathroom and got undressed. as she reached under the cupboards to grab a
towel, she caught her reflection in the large mirror over the sink. She put
the towel down and began to contemplate her image in the mirror. She
admired her own soft, auburn hair and smooth skin. Something was different
about her. She was still as thin and flat as she was yesterday and the day
before, not having grown her breasts yet, but somehow she seemed more
mature. She took off her rosy panties and slid them off her legs. No hair
had sprouted anywhere new, but it might as well have for all the change she
saw in the mirror. She turned around and saw no new mass on her soft, round
behind.

It suddenly occurred to her that the events of the past few days were
reflected in her posture and expression. She stood a little straighter and
had a stronger resoluteness in her face. She had gained a self-confidence
she never had before. All of this was because of the smoking experiment she
was undertaking with her mother. Her confidence in her own will and her
credibility increased dramatically.

Being a bright girl, she also noticed something else about the ordeal that
changed her. She knew that kids stereotypically felt older and more mature
when they smoked even though smoking was in fact an immature habit.
Regardless of her wisdom, however, smoking made HER feel older and more
mature too. There was no denying it. It was stupid but she couldn't help it.

She suddenly got a great desire to see herself smoking in the mirror. She
ran into the living room to grab the pack of cigarettes she'd been working
on, carefully making sure all the curtains were drawn so that no one could
see her naked. She then ran back to the bathroom with the pack.

While watching herself in the mirror, she pulled out a cigarette and posed
with it. Giggling, she held it out ceremoniously and said "Would you care
to light my cigarette Mr. Bogart? Thank you, you're such a dear." She then
walked back and forth in a very ladylike fashion, her smooth, nude hips
swaying to and fro. She then began to light the cigarette. She paused and
contemplated that she had never seen herself smoking a cigarette before.
She couldn't imagine seeing the reflection that she saw in the mirror since
birth  inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke. She was excited to see what
that would be like. She figured that since she wouldn't be smoking for long
she should take advantage of the situation to have a little fun.

She watched herself bring the cigarette up to her small, pouty lips and
light it. It was sheer amazement to see the white stick glowing red in
front of her own familiar face as the smoke filled her mouth. Taking the
cigarette away from her lips, she opened her mouth to reveal a ball of
smoke lingering in her palette. She watched as she took a deep breath and
the smoke swirled down her throat and into her lungs. Wow! She actually
could see the smoke disappearing down her throat. How naughty is this? As
she breathed in, she saw her chest expand as it filled with smoke. 'I have
just lit a fire and breathed all the smoke from that fire into my chest,
where it's soaking into my lungs', she thought. She kept holding the smoke
in her body while she pictured it under her smooth chest swirling around in
her lungs. She pictured the heaviest particles in the smoke precipitating
down to her lung surfaces while the lighter materials continued lingering
around until they too stuck onto her lung walls. On a whim, she just kept
holding it and holding it until just more than two minutes passed. She
finally released her breath in one breathless exhale. Almost nothing came
out. The merest whisp could be seen, but the rest was fused to her lung
tissue.

'Wow, what a concept' she thought. 'I just put a whole buncha junk in my
lungs. It doesn't feel bad at all. It feels good, in fact.' She took
another puff and blew it out rather quickly. She looked at the huge cloud
and said "Wow! look what's in my lungs." She didn't know why, but her
vagina suddenly became very moist and she was feeling sort of giddy and
excited. She knew that this meant she was aroused because she'd felt it all
before, though not this intense. She became a little manic as she took
another deep puff and held it in her chest. She rubbed all over her chest,
caressing her pre-pubescent breasts and ribcage while again picturing her
lungs. She started to hug herself and pretended she was hugging her lungs.
She turned around and looked at her back, imagining this as giving her
another view of her lungs. She kept holding her breath while picturing her
lungs turning brown and sick.

She quickly exhaled then inhaled an even bigger puff. Once all the smoke
from that puff was inhaled, she drew more smoke from the cigarette and
inhaled it on top of the previous puff, not realizing that she did an
instinctive double-pump. Once her lungs were again filled with smoke, she
continued rubbing her chest with one hand while the other hand was brought
down to her vagina. She began to play with herself as she took puff after
puff and rubbed her chest. She began thinking crazy thoughts and started to
speak out loud. "I want more smoke in my lungs! I want the the smoke I'm
breathing to soak into me and give me lung cancer. Mmmm! my lungs are
turning brown. I want them to not work anymore! Oh yes, this is so good!!!
Yes! Yes! Yes!" She kept inhaling and exhaling smoke for several minutes,
not letting a single breath be without smoke. The smoke finally caused her
to violently cough. While the coughing continued, she rubbed her vagina
harder and harder until she had an earth-shattering climax.

After her climax, she stumbled to her room and plopped down on her bed. In
a haze, she tried to collect herself enough to gather her wits for a
moment. 'What just happened?' she thought. 'Am I going crazy? I can't
believe what I just did!' She was bewildered by the events that transpired.
She couldn't imagine why she got so aroused by smoking and thinking about
the consequences of smoking. She was revulsed by her actions and yet she
reflected that what she just did was the single most pleasurable thing that
ever happened to her. She tried to figure out an explanation for it, but
her mind was a blank. Perhaps if she asked her mother about it, she could
help to explain it.

No, that was out of the question. Her mother would think she was weird and
on top of that, she didn't want to give her mother the satisfaction of
knowing how much she enjoyed smoking for one brief, ecstatic moment. She
would just pretend that it never happened and go on with her life as she
had until now.

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