Miss Vicki, Part 1

(by anonauthor02@yahoo.com, 18 August 1995)

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Article 2145 of alt.sex.fetish.smoking:
Message-ID: <171337Z18081995@anon.penet.fi>
Path: cocoa.brown.edu!agate!howland.reston.ans.net!EU.net!
Newsgroups: alt.sex.fetish.smoking
From: an284773@anon.penet.fi
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.fetish.smoking
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Reply-To: an284773@anon.penet.fi
Date: Fri, 18 Aug 1995 17:10:01 UTC
Subject: Miss Vicki Part 1 of 5 (long)
Lines: 150

"Miss Vicki"

The following is the story of my daughter Vicki and how she became a smoker. It
didn't start out that way, but I eventually found myself actually encouraging my
daughter to become a smoker just like me.

Ever since she was a small child, Vicki had demonstrated a real curiosity
about my smoking. I had been a pack-a-day smoker ever since my early teens
and I still love to smoke, and so I often smoked when I was with my
daughter. One day when she was about five I remember her asking me
innocently, as she watched me enjoying a cigarette, "Mommy, when will I be
able to smoke like you?". My answer was that she was too young to smoke and
that she should never even think about it since it was bad for her. But in
retrospect I wonder if making it something forbidden had something to do
with what happened a few years later.

Vicki was a beautiful and happy child, with long, naturally curly dark brown
hair, and had never caused me any real trouble, doing well in school and
generally being well-behaved and one of the joys of my life, keeping me
going for a few years after the tragic loss of her father and my loving
husband in an accident when she was seven. We were at least well-provided
for afterwards by his company's insurance as well as our own, and so I did
not have to worry about finances as we readjusted to life with just the two
of us. My parents were extremely supportive as well even though they lived
some hours drive away, and eventually we settled into a reasonably normal
life with a comfortable home and lifestyle.

One summer day when Vicki was 12, we were at home and I had just lit a cigarette
when the doorbell rang. I left the cigarette in an ashtray in the living
room and went to answer the door. As I was talking with a neighbor who had
come by to invite us to a cookout that weekend, I happened to look in the
mirror in the hallway and was shocked to see the reflected image of Vicki
quietly reaching for my burning cigarette and puffing on it! She quickly
blew it out without inhaling and replaced it in the ashtray as she returned
to the sofa where she had been sitting with me. I finished my conversation
and returned to the living room.

Picking up my cigarette, I looked at it and said to her, "Vicki, this looks like
someone's been smoking it. Did you take a puff?" She turned a deep red and
stammered, "What?... uhh... I guess so", in a quiet voice that sounded deeply
ashamed, with a look of instant guilt on her face.

I decided that this was something that needed to be punished before it went any
further. "Well, then, Miss Vicki, if you like smoking so much, let's see you
have one. Here", I said angrily, taking out a fresh Salem 100 and handing it
to her, "I want you to smoke this. I'll join you", I said, crushing out my
old one and taking out another.

Vicki reluctantly accepted the Salem from me and, trembling, appeared to be
on the verge of tears. I was upset with her, though, and didn't care.
Flicking my lighter to life I said, "Watch how I do this", as I lit my own
cigarette, then offered the flame to hers as I ordered her to light up as I
had. She slowly moved the cigarette to her lips and drew softly on it as I
touched the flame to the end. It immediately ignited and smoke flowed into
Vicki's mouth. As I removed the lighter she quickly pulled the cigarette
away and blew out a small puff of uninhaled smoke.

"I want you to smoke the whole thing. Do you inhale?", I asked, knowing that she
didn't. She said "No", in a thin, trembly voice, as I told her, "Well,
you're going to. Take a puff, and don't blow it out", I ordered, as Vicki
complied, fearing my anger. "Now open your mouth and breathe in, like this",
I told her, demonstrating for her benefit. She did as she was told and
suddenly a spasm of coughing overtook her as smoke spewed out in all
directions. After a few seconds she recovered and, eyes watering, said, "Oh,
mommy, I'm sorry. I was just curious about it. I don't really want to smoke".

"You should have thought of that sooner", I told her, still angry. "You're
going to smoke all of that. Take another puff", I commanded. As she did, I
told her, "Now, inhale again". This time she didn't cough, but still found
it an unpleasant experience. She blew out smoke as tears streamed down her
cheeks, deeply ashamed. I continued to force her to smoke the cigarette as I
wanted to make her sick, and soon she began to turn pale. Eventually, she
took one last puff and as she exhaled, she retched and rushed out of the
room to the bathroom. When she regained some composure, I told her in a
stern tone, "There! See what it does to you? I don't want you to ever smoke
again!" After a while, I softened my attitude towards her and, sitting next
to her on the sofa, I explained to her that I didn't want to see her smoke
and that's why I did what I had to her. Our relationship had always been a
good one, and Vicki told me she was sorry and that she wouldn't do it again.

Later that night I was reflecting on what had happened earlier in the day. I
felt badly that I had lost my cool about what Vicki had done, and guilty
about having forced her to be sick. I didn't want Vicki to smoke, but I
didn't want to damage our relationship should she decide she some day wanted
to do so. I promised myself that if the situation ever presented itself to
me again, I would handle it differently.

As it turned out, I didn't have to wait very long. A few weeks later on a
miserable, rainy day, Vicki and I were housebound and were each seated on
the living room sofa reading magazines. I had just lit a cigarette and as I
flipped the page of my magazine, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that
she was manouevering herself in such a way so as to catch some of my
sidestream smoke and was trying to breathe it in. Playfully, I took a puff
of my cigarette and casually exhaled it out of the side of my mouth in her
direction. She again moved so as to catch some of my smoke and was obviously
trying to inhale it.

After a minute, Vicki changed her position and reclined on the sofa, resting her
head on my thigh. I again decided to test her and took another puff, this time
exhaling through my nostrils directly downward towards her face. I was astounded
to see her open her mouth slightly and take a deep breath as the smoke
surrounded her, and it seemed to me that she actually was able to inhale a
little of it. I repeated this action with each remaining puff of my
cigarette, and so did she.

Vicki remained in this position and flipped through her magazine for another 20
minutes, by which time I was ready for another cigarette. When I saw her again
repeat her performance as I again tested her as I exhaled my first puff, a
thought started to form in my mind. Devilishly, I decided to act upon it
after a short period of consideration, and slowly but casually moved the
hand holding the Salem towards Vicki's mouth, so it was only an inch or so
away. I saw her eyes widen as she watched the movement, and then, after
allowing her a few moments of anticipation, I deliberately lowered my hand
and gently inserted the filter between her lips. "Here, go ahead, honey...
try a puff", I said softly, smiling at her, and Vicki, looking at me with
eyes even wider now, closed her lips around the Salem after a moment of
shocked hesitation and took a tentative puff. After a few seconds I pulled
it away and she opened her mouth slightly, briefly showing me a dense white
ball of smoke for a second before it disappeared down into her lungs as she
quickly inhaled, remembering the technique if not the consequences of her
previous experience. She then exhaled a stream of smoke straight upwards as
a slight smile appeared on her face. "Did you enjoy that, dear?", I asked
her. "Ooooh, yes, mom.... that was nice!", she said after a moment, a look
of delight and surprise on her face.

"Well, don't think you'll get to do that all the time", I responded in a
near-whisper, "but I might let you have an occasional treat now and then", I
said with a smile. I didn't give Vicki any more chances until later that
evening while watching TV, when she again reclined onto my lap. It was
obvious to me that she was looking for another puff, and after I lit up the
next time I made her wait for a minute or so, but eventually I again placed
the filter of my Salem close to her mouth without a word. Quickly moving to
seal her lips around it, she drew more strongly on the cigarette this time
and I let her take as much as she wanted, only removing it when I detected
that the puff was finished. She smoothly inhaled the cool, mentholated smoke
almost immediately and held it in her lungs for a couple of seconds before
blowing out a thick plume towards the ceiling as a thrilled look appeared on
her face.

More to come...

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