Miss Vicki, Part 4

Article 2187 of alt.sex.fetish.smoking:
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From: an284773@anon.penet.fi
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Date: Sun, 20 Aug 1995 08:29:53 UTC
Subject: Miss Vicki Part 4 of 5 (long)
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Thanks to all who have written and responded so far with kind words about
the current series "Miss Vicki". Your compliments are much appreciated and
I'm glad you're enjoying it. Here's Part 4.

**


Vicki did not smoke very much during the first few months after she began
smoking regularly, making each pack last her for four or five days. She would
typically have her first of the day after breakfast, one after she got home from
school, one after dinner, and one or two in the evening. On weekends she would
allow herself only one or two extra during the day if she was at home, and never
once asked me if she could take her cigarettes with her if she went out. Almost
always she would only smoke when I did too, not yet comfortable with doing it on
her own. She followed my ground rules to the letter, never once causing me a
problem, and no one other than I knew about her secret pleasure. The day of her
14th birthday that fall I looked at Vicki and realized that she had begun to
blossom into a beautiful young woman, and took pride in the mature manner that
she now presented to the world every day. It occurred to me that her maturity
began to grow around the same time that I had given her permission to smoke,
and wondered if the two events were somehow connected.

Vicki's smoking routine would be fairly regular during these months. Each
morning after breakfast when I had my usual cigarettes with coffee, she
would retrieve a Salem 100 from the pack she kept in her dresser drawer and
return to the kitchen to join me, lighting up using my lighter. We would
then smoke together and discuss the day's upcoming events and make any plans
that we needed to for the rest of the day. She had continued the practice I
had taught her of taking long, deep puffs with this first Salem of the day,
and exhaled most of each puff via her nostrils in several slow, luxurious
breaths. When she joined me for one after school, I found it interesting to
observe that her style would be different from that of the morning,
generally smoking this one quickly and taking strong, aggressive drags in
quick succession, holding it in for a relatively long time, then exhaling
what remained in a long, continuous jet from her mouth before repeating the
process. For the rest of the evening's cigarettes she would adopt a manner
somewhat between these two styles, always taking long puffs but varying in
frequency and the way in which she exhaled depending on her mood. But the
one constant was the number of cigarettes she smoked each day, which, I was
pleased to see, she carefully controlled.

In March, during school break, my parents invited Vicki to stay with them
for the week. She was eager to go since they always showered her with
presents and
treated her like a princess. While we were packing her suitcase, I noticed an
unopened pack of Salems tucked away in the corner. "Vicki, what are these
doing here?", I asked in a somewhat stern tone, holding up the pack for her to
see. She blushed slightly, hesitating for a second before answering. "Oh...
well, I just thought I might like to have one or two while I was there...
after all, grandma smokes those  too...", she responded, before I cut her
off. "Sorry, but you remember the ground rules. You didn't ask, and even if
you had, I wouldn't let you. Your grandmother doesn't know that you smoke,
and I don't want you doing it there next week. I'm taking them out", I
replied. "You'll just have to do without for a while". Vicki frowned, but
eventually grunted "Oh, OK", and seemed to accept my decision.

She left on Saturday and I talked to her that night once she arrived, with
everything seemingly fine. On Tuesday night, the phone rang, and it was her.
She was calling from the guest room extension, and this time all was not well.
After a little bit of embarassed dancing around the subject, she finally got
to the point. "Oh, mom... I'm just dying for a cigarette. I'm just going
crazy, especially when I see Grandma smoke. I just don't know what to do.
All I can think of is that I just really, really want to have a cigarette.
Can you tell her that it's OK, and let her give me one? PLEASE?"

After I got over the surprise of the unexpected plea from my daughter, I
actually got a chuckle out of her frantic state for a second before I took
any sympathy. She was having her first real experience with nicotine
withdrawal, and I knew from my own history that it was no fun. Still, I
wanted her to maybe learn something from the experience, so I told her,
"Vicki, if you want to tell Grandma yourself, and if she wants to give you a
cigarette, that's fine. But I'm not going to break the news to her. Why, it
might kill her!", I said, having a little fun at her expense. Vicki's
response was a restrained wail. "Oh, geez, mom!!! I can't do that... I just
can't! I won't! I'd die of embarrassment! Are you trying to humiliate me??
Come on mom, please?"

Eventually as we continued to talk, I got the conversation on to other subjects
and Vicki seemed to settle down a bit. After a few minutes, I asked her to
put her grandmother on the line and when she told me mom was coming into the
room
to take the phone, I told Vicki to take a walk downstairs until her grandmother
called for her to come back on the line. As my mother greeted me over the
phone, I heard her say goodbye to Vicki as she left the room.

After a few preliminaries, I got down to business. "Mom, I need you to do me a
favor. We've got a minor crisis but you can help us out. I have some news for
you, and I hope it doesn't upset you, but Vicki started smoking a few months
ago. It's a long story, and I won't get into it now, but I finally gave her
permission to smoke regularly during the summer and she's been smoking ever
since. She's not a heavy smoker, just a few each day, and I've been keeping
an eye on her. She really seems to like it, though, and since she hasn't had
one since Saturday morning, I'm afraid she's having a bit of a nicotine fit
there tonight. She's feeling a really strong craving for it right now, so
she wants to know if it's OK for her to smoke while she's there with you the
rest of the week".

"Oh, I see", mom replied, then paused for a moment. "So our little Vicki's a
smoker?... my, my. That IS a surprise", she said thoughtfully. "She really
doesn't seem like someone who'd smoke, does she, dear? Well, well... at
least that explains why she's been so snappy the last few days, I suppose.
Quite honestly, I'm afraid she really has been quite dreadful. But no, I'm
not upset, maybe just a bit disappointed... but after all, I suppose she's
about the same age as you were when you started, isn't she? And me, for that
matter. Well, I guess she's growing up and I just didn't want to admit it".
Then mom began to commisserate about what Vicki had experienced the past
while, knowing as only a fellow smoker could what it was like. "Oh, the
poor, sweet little thing... she must be ready to start cIimbing the walls. I
feel so sorry for her", she said with a sympathetic tone. "I wish I had
known earlier, so she didn't have to suffer these past few days. Of course
she can smoke here if she smokes at home... after all, this is her second
home. What brand does she smoke? I'll run out and get her some right now".

"That's OK, mom", I said with a smile at her grandmotherly instincts. "She's a
Salem 100s girl, just like us. I guess it just runs in the family. Tell you
what... if it's OK with you, let's surprise her. Call her back in and put
her on the phone. I'll tell her that I didn't get a chance to ask you yet,
and if you don't mind, would you give her one of your cigarettes while she's
talking to me? I'd love to hear her reaction".

Mom agreed with a conspiratorial laugh, and I heard her call Vicki back into the
room. As I heard mom make her departure in the background, Vicki came back
on the line. "So, did you tell her? What did she say?", Vicki asked eagerly.
I told her that I couldn't bring myself to ask her and that she'd have to do
it herself. Vicki's reply was full of exasperation, saying "Oh, mother!!!
Why? Won't you just tell her? This is starting to drive me... what the?...
oooh, hold on, mom", and then the line went quiet as mom, slipping into the
room unnoticed, held a lit Salem 100 to her granddaughter's lips. After a
few seconds of silence I heard the sound of Vicki's inhale, then mom's voice
in the background saying, "Have another, dear", as mom introduced Vicki to
her first double-drag, still holding the Salem to her lips just like I used
to, and then finally a few seconds later, I heard the satisfied sigh of
Vicki's exhale before she spoke again.

"Oh, mom, you're awful! But, thanks... thanks a lot, mom. Thanks, Grandma",
she said to us as I then heard her take another puff. "I guess this means it's
OK?", she asked softly, quickly beginning to feel a calming effect as the
nicotine she was inhaling did it's job. "Yes, honey, as you can see, grandma
knows, and it's fine with her", I replied with a chuckle. But you might owe
her an apology for the way you've been acting the last couple of days, from
what I hear. And when it comes to your smoking, I want you to do whatever
she says, OK?", I told her.

"OK, mom, I will, and thanks again. I better go now... I've got this
cigarette and there's no ashtray in here. Talk to you soon... bye!", she
said brightly, hanging up.


More to come...


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