What the hell were they going to do to her this time?
Hayley was the litter of the runt. At sixteen years old, a
decade and a half of her siblings bullying had left it’s
scars, both physically and mentally. Every time the abuse
started she felt it afresh, like glass shards being pressed
into her mind, the physical pain and the emotional turmoil
leaving in their wake a very bruised and very shaken young
girl, misery added to misery. But the deep rooted sense of
injustice hurt her more than all the physical abuse – it
tore at her heart and rendered her incapable of anything
but bitterness towards her parents. Bitterness for their
apparent lack of concern over the constant bullying at the
hands of her three older sisters, bitterness that they
quite simply let it happen.
They had her now, strapped to the wooden chair. Her parents
were out of course – the other girls never did the real
damage when they were likely to get caught in the act. Her
hands were bound clumsily but effectively behind the back
of the chair, the old washing line cord wrapped firmly
around the wrists and extending down to a similar knot
binding her feet between the wooden legs. She already knew
what her birthday “treat” would entail – now that she was
sixteen she was going to be forced to smoke. Her older
sisters – all in their twenties and still bearing the
ruthless lack of conscience like that of children who
readily pull the wings from flies, had smoked for many
years, having been encouraged by their parents when in
their pre-pubescent years. Hayley had never wished to even
try smoking, sick of the thick fog of tobacco smoke which
hung in the air constantly in all rooms of their house.
Blowing smoke in her face had been the other girls
favourite taunts, the novelty of which never seemed to have
worn off and contributed to Hayley’s intense dislike of the
habit.
She knew that she was probably going to have no choice in
the matter and decided that she would try to comply as much
as she could with the wishes of her sisters, knowing that
for them, her struggles were half the fun of the game. They
had already lit their cigarettes and were blowing an
endless barrage of blue grey smoke into her face, which she
tried to avoid by holding her breath but she eventually had
no choice but to succumb and gulp down a breath of the foul
smelling second hand smoke. The girls halted their exercise
at the call of Susan, the oldest sister. She held her
cigarette, a Marlboro red, filter end first in front of
Hayleys mouth and simply said – “smoke it.”
Because Hayley had already decided it would be easier to
comply she leaned forward and sucked on the brown filter
tip. She was surprised that she could barely feel the smoke
entering her mouth – it was only the end of the cigarette,
suddenly glowing bright orange as the dry leaves combusted
which indicated she was actually doing it correctly. She
pulled away and blew a thick but short lived stream into
the Susan’s face.
“You’re not doing it right!” Susan bellowed and slapped her
face. Years of this particular assault had rendered Hayley
virtually immune to its pain value but it got her attention
again nevertheless. “After you suck it you have to inhale
it. Breath it all in. And make sure you breathe it in DEEP
into your chest. Then you can blow it out. If you don’t do
it properly you’ll be sorry.” Hayley repeated the exercise,
filling her mouth with the thick smoke. This time she
breathed it in.
Nothing had prepared her for the shockingly unpleasant
sensation as the thick smoke hit the back of her throat.
She emitted the entire lungful back out in a series of
raspy coughs which added to the horrible tingling sensation
left in her throat. Smiling, Susan said “again” and held
out the cigarette in front of Hayley once more. “I can’t”
she said, shaking her head, still coughing slightly and
amazed at just how bad it had actually been. She had heard
that everyone coughed after their first cigarette, but
having just experienced her first proper puff she was
amazed that people actually wanted to continue with the
filthy habit after trying it for the first time. She
received a trio of facial blows from each sibling for her
lack of enthusiasm, the last being with a closed fist to
the mouth from Hannah, the next oldest after Susan, which
drew blood from her lip. Given her predicament, it looked
like she had little choice. She took a second puff and
after once again filling her mouth with the thick white
smoke paused, then quickly took a sharp breath. The smoke
caught her throat out again and once more she coughed out
the smoke rather than blowing it. The second hit had been
easier on her throat than the first however – her throat
was no longer virginal to the sensation of the hit. She was
made to take another puff, under threat of further blows to
the face.
She was forced to smoke the whole thing. By the end of the
session, although her throat no longer instantly rejected
the polluted air it was being forced to breathe, she was
still coughing slightly and felt sick too. But at least it
was over.
Wasn’t it?
At Susan’s call, Hannah pulled to perspex box from behind
the sofa. It was an overambitious school DIY effort by
Michelle, the next oldest after Hayley, an opening
case-type contraption that was supposed to house a
miniature haunted house with moving parts including a
Dracula who swivelled round from behind a grandfather
clock. Of course the haunted house and moving parts
themselves were never built, Michelle’s enthusiasm waning
after construction of the clear outer shell. But her school
project failure would serve as a perfect smoke-box which
the girls could fasten around Hayleys face, completely
encasing her entire head and neck, the circular opening at
the base (intended for the ancient stone floor on which the
horrors could stand) sufficient to provide (with additional
padding) an adequate seal. The box was crudely hinged at
the back, and the resulting gaps together with several
small diameter holes (a very recent addition by one of the
sisters drilled into the sides of the casing) ensured that
the device was not completely airtight.
“What are you doing?” enquired the fraught Hayley, unsure
as to exactly what damage they were intending to inflict on
her or her throat and lungs next. Ignoring her request for
information the sisters set about placing the case about
her head and closed it, using clear tape to seal off the
gaps around the hinge area and any other areas through
which air could enter, bar the small holes. “WHAT ARE YOU
DOING?” she bellowed louder as she began to comprehend
their intentions. “Shut up or we’ll tape your mouth shut
too” said Hannah. Each of the holes were drilled at the
correct diameter to hold a cigarette of course, and this is
what the girls set about doing, each sister lighting two
cigarettes at once, inhaling deeply and inserting the
filter ends into the holes in the box as they exhaled
sparse but steady blue grey plumes of the poisonous smoke
into the air. There was one hole left for airflow, and when
Susan held her thumb over this Hayleys frantic breathing
started to draw smoke from each of the cigarettes into the
box. It was a simple routine – every time Hayley breathed
in, she helplessly pulled a lungful of smoke from the
cigarettes into the box encasing her head. Every time she
breathed out, Susan would lift her thumb from the hole and
allow Hayley’s outbreaths to purge the box of clean air,
little by little.
Now she said nothing as the clear box encasing her head
slowly filled with smoke. Her breathing, less frantic now,
was becoming slightly laboured as it struggled to pull
clean air through each of the tar filled white burning
tubes wedged in the sides of the box. With each breath the
tips of the cigarettes glowed slightly as Hayley helplessly
pulled more and more smoke into her case. By the time the
cigarettes were burned halfway down there was a clearly
visible fog in the box which was starting to emerge from
the hole at Susan’s thumb at every exhale.
Hayley herself knew she had no option but to stand it for
as long as she could. Her box was filling with smoke and it
had already started entering her lungs with every breath
she took, causing her to cough slightly. Fortunately the
first cigarette had primed her body for this experience, at
least to this stage anyway, and although it was slowly
becoming harder for her body to draw in clean air she was
still able to bear it. By the time the cigarettes were
three quarters finished the smoke was becoming denser. The
sisters looked on fascinated and so far quite impressed
with Hayley’s ability to cope with the lack of clean air.
Apart from the occasional cough (about every three breaths)
her face seemed to be full of concentration rather than
desperation, as her lungs tried hard to find proper air. Of
course the contraption was designed so that there was only
smoke going in, and by the time the cigarettes were
finished the smoky fog of the box was starting to obscure
Hayley’s features. By now every single breath for her was
beginning to be the equivalent of taking a drag from a very
mild cigarette. But the fact that the girls could still see
her face at all was a sure sign that their experiment was
nowhere near over – so they each lit more cigarettes,
removed the hot glowing butts from the box, and inserted
the new smokes into the casing.
They could see her mouth opening wider in a futile attempt
to extract more clean air from the box, and with each new
breath they saw huge clouds of the thick smog rush into her
mouth as she unwittingly inhaled more and more smoke,
deeper and deeper. The routine continued for the time it
took for these cigarettes to burn down to near the butts.
At this point, it was not possible to see her features at
all, the only indication that there was a head inside the
box being when she pulled another lungful down into her
mouth – at these points the smoke around her lower face
billowed inward, but was immediately replaced by another
fresh load of the dense smoke. The girls, delighted by the
experiment thus far, thought best to remove the casing from
her head in case she fainted through lack of oxygen (by now
she couldn’t have been receiving hardly any air at all and
they didn’t want to risk her fainting and spoiling the
fun). But before they could rescue Hayley from her
situation, they heard their front door open.
Their mother walked in.
The sisters looked up nervously, feeling the dread of being
caught in the act.
Hayley lifted her boxed head up too at the sound of
somebody else entering the room, her vision being
completely obscured by the wall of smoke which stung her
eyes. Her body convulsed slightly as she coughed from deep
within the blanket of thick blue grey smog. “Take the box
off of her head and get the poor girl some water” she said.
Susan immediately removed the contraption from her head and
Michelle ran off to the kitchen. As the casing was opened a
ridiculously large cloud of smoke emerged from around
Hayley’s head and after the initial bulk of it dispersed a
few lazy curls slowly drifted from her hair and around the
perimeter of her face. She would have fallen forward with
the giddiness but the cords binding her held her in place.
She coughed her lungs clear which took several chesty
spasms to complete. By now Michelle had returned and put
the water to Hayleys lips. She gulped greedily.
Hannah went behind the chair to untie the cord.
“You don’t have to untie her yet” said the mother. “I’m
just very disappointed that you didn’t wait until I got
home as we agreed. Why can’t any of you just do as your
told?” she bellowed. “Hayley, are you okay?” she enquired.
“Mum, they mad me stay here and put the box around my head
and then. . .”, she began.
“I KNOW WHAT THEY DID YOU STUPID GIRL” she screamed. “BUT
ARE YOU OKAY?” Of course she wasn’t okay. Her throat felt
strained and her chest was still causing her to cough.
Worst of all her eyes were sore and already had a pink
tinge to them. “My eyes. . .” she said. “I don’t want to
hear this.” said her mother. “I asked you if you were okay.
Now ANSWER ME!” “no. . .”
“that’s not what I want to hear.” “YES THEN!”
“GOOD! Now do you want to smoke some more?” Hayley shook
her head wearily.
“Okay, dear. Hannah – put the case back on.” “But mum. . .”
Hayley stared.
“You clearly haven’t had enough yet. Now you’re not leaving
that box until you’re addicted and start behaving more
sociably. You are nearly an adult now and it’s about time
that you started behaving like one. You should start acting
like part of this family” “BUT MUM!” she cried, but it fell
on deaf ears. The box was reclamped and the cigarettes lit.
The only difference this time was that there were four of
them watching.
The smoke poured in again. Defiantly, Hayley initially held
her breath for as long as she could but it only meant she
took a deeper breath when she finally gave up. By the end
of the second batch of cigarettes, the box was opaque with
smoke again. Her eyes were shut tightly as they were still
stinging from the previous box session. Every inhalation
was a lungful of thick smoke. She was impressed at her own
ability to withstand the ordeal, and kept telling herself
that smokers did this every time they lit up and seemed to
enjoy it so she should be able to at least stand it if not
derive some pleasure from the activity. But it was still
very hard – although her throat did not get the shock that
she experienced from her first inhalation, she struggling
to obtain oxygen from the thick cloying smoke which filled
her inexperienced lungs again and again. Every breath was a
burden and her head was swimming. Susan asked her mum if
they should remove the box temporarily to give her a few
breaths respite. Her mum said no, that she needed more time
if she was going to get fully addicted.
Her mum bought in the cigars. They were fairly large but
cheap. Using top of the range Churchills would have been
nice but too expensive for the purposes of this exercise.
As they were each lit by the girls and inserted into the
box in place of the cigarettes, Hayley was oblivious and
still struggling with the thick blanket of cigarette smoke
which completely surrounded her head. She had a brief
respite from the toxic air as straw was inserted through
Susan’s thumb-hole towards her face (the girls assumed that
they were pushing it towards Hayley’s mouth – but they
really couldn’t discern her features at all through the
smog). She took several greedy gulps of the pure air
through the straw before it was removed and Susan’s thumb
began the smoke suction routine again as Hayley resumed
breathing the smoke in.
She knew something was different after a couple of breaths
– she had almost adjusted to the hit of the endless barrage
of smoke hitting the back of her throat and entering her
lungs with every breath – but suddenly the smoke seemed
more tangible and had a distinct taste to it. She coughed
as her throat initially rejected this new, stronger hit but
it got stronger and stronger as she unwillingly pulled more
and more of the thicker stronger cigar smoke into her
confined breathing space. Susan still kept her thumb over
the only open air-hole for every one of Hayley’s in-breaths
(which she detected by the rise and fall of her chest) and
released it for the out-breaths, at which time a thick
plume of smoke billowed through the small exit.
The smoke got denser and denser and Hayley’s throat and
lungs received increasingly full hits of the dense smoke
until the box was completely packed with fumes from the
burning leaves. Still the ends of the cigars glowed as
hayley pulled thick warm lungfuls deeper and deeper into
her body until it too was completely full. By the time the
cigars were half burned the box was completely opaque – it
was as if the inside of the clear casing had been painted
solid white, such was the density of the thick, strong
pollutant. Every single inhale from Hayley completely
filled her lungs with the tar ridden smoke.
Every new breath replaced the previous. The smoke which now
filled her lungs to capacity had nowhere else to go – every
square millimetre of her lungs had been filled and so it
began to settle on the walls of her bronchi leaving a
sticky brown residue. She was nearly fainting with the
lightheadedness induced by the chemicals in the gasses. She
could actually feel the thickness of the smoke as it pured
into her mouth and down her throat. The smoke was cooled
somewhat by the air in the box which prevented her throat
from feeling completely raw but her constant breathing made
the smoke feel hotter with each inhale as the density
increased. She began to struggle but the binding was too
tight to escape from. She began to choke as the thickness
of every lungful started to overwhelm her.
The sisters, thrilled that this anti-smoker had lasted this
long and was now gulping down more smoke with every single
breath than they ever had with their deepest puffs, pressed
down against her body to keep her more still. Eventually
Hayley gave up the fight and accepted the situation. Her
lungs, now coated with a thin film of tar had started to
learn to accept each inbreath without choking. As the smoke
grew ever hotter and thicker she longed for
unconsciousness. To this aim she deliberately took several
huge breaths and held them for several seconds, much to the
delight of the onlookers, but all it did was coat her lungs
with more and more of the sticky black mess.
The cigars were just about finished. Every plume of smoke
which escaped the air hole by Susan’s thumb was thick and
hot and gave Susan the chance to share some of the smoke
with her bound sister.
She started inhaling the smoke from the air hole instead of
using her thumb. The smoke was thick and hot and was about
the maximum level even her hardened lungs could withstand
in any given puff. “Wow – that’s really strong! I don’t
know how she’s lasted this long!” she said.
The mother instructed the girls to remove the cigar butts
and replace them with more cigarettes. It took a whole
batch of them to clear the thick hot cigar smoke from
Hayley’s box (and lungs) and replace it with their own
lethal smog. Inside the box, Hayley detected the cigar
smoke dispersing and welcomed the relative ease of the new
smoke which now filled her mouth, throat and lungs. She
took deep, greedy breaths of the cigarette smoke which was
almost as sweet to her as fresh air after the previous fog.
The cigarettes burned down with remarkable ferocity as she
consumed them greedily with deep inhales. When the second
batch was finished, the box was finally removed from her
head.
She coughed non stop for several minutes as her lungs were
gradually filled with clean air, which, after the constant
flow of smoke, was like a new shock to her body. Such was
the rush of oxygen after the nicotine bombardment that she
fell into a semi-conscious doze as her body tried to some
to terms with itąs new experience. She awoke sometime later
on the sofa in the arms of her mother. Looking up at her
mums face which returned her gaze with a smile she felt,
for the first time in countless years, wanted. She would
gladly have repeated the smoke routine again if it meant
she finally had this kind of acceptance in the family, with
her mothers arms around her and her sisters absently
mindedly puffing away at their cigarettes whilst watching
tv, instead of bullying her for their amusement. Tears came
to her eyes, not for the ordeal she had been through, but
for the relative calm, the serenity of the scene before
her. They looked like a normal family, the only missing
piece being her father who had left their home several
years ago and whom she couldnąt remember clearly anyway.
Her sisters didnąt even look over at her. Their
indifference alone was wonderful to her. She shut her eyes
again to try and freeze the homely scene in her mind
forever.
łSheąs awake I think˛ said her mum. And so the tranquillity
was over. The sisters all got up and dragged her kicking
and crying, the moment of calm lost forever, back to the
chair and tied her up again. Now that it appeared that she
was going to have to endure the routine again after all,
she began to plead and protest. łDonąt worry!˛ said Susan.
łWeąre not going to put the box back on your head yet!˛
Michelle gagged her with sellotape wrapped around her head
about four times, level with her mouth, so tightly that it
pulled the flesh of her cheeks taught and pulled her lips
tight against her teeth. She used a corkscrew to pierce a
hole in the mouth region so that she could only breathe
limited air through this tiny hole or normally through her
nostrils.
Hannah and Susan had already lighted the cigars and were
busy triple pumping them to get them fully alight and to
get all the strong smoke they could from them before they
had to give them up for the purpose of the next installment
of Hayley’s smoky treat. Having taken one last long final
puff and inhaling deeply, Susan carefully pushed the end of
her cigar into Hayley’s nostril. łIs that okay?˛ she asked
nobody in particular, emitting a jerky cloud of thick smoke
as she spoke. łI donąt want to push it too far up because
it might get soggy or something˛. Hannah was less gentle
and thrust the cigar up Hayley’s other nostril with force.
The thick gauge of the cigars meant that they stuck easily.
The sight of the two huge cigars with fiercely glowing tips
attached to Hayley’są face bought giggles of delight from
the sisters. They backed away and watched how their
unfortunate sistersą body coped with this new task.
Hayley tried to breathe in through the airhole in the tape
at her mouth, but because it was so small she was forced to
pull some of the cigar smoke in through her nostrils with
every breath, certainly enough to make the tips glow
slightly. She tried exhaling through her nose forcefully to
dislodge the cigars but they were so thick that they were
wedged in tightly and the attempt only made the ends glow
even brighter, producing more smoke o her next in-breath,
so she she set about exhaling (and producing wispy clouds
of smoke) through the tiny airhole. She continued in this
way for about a minute (although it seemed like an hour to
her), her body able to withstand the ordeal because of the
previous lung / throat priming experience with the smoke
box. She really thought that she would be able to withstand
the ordeal. .. until her mother put her finger over her
single airhole.
She held her breath for as long as she could, but was
forced to pull a whole lungfull of thick hot cigar smoke
through her nose deep into her lungs. It was nothing like
the smoke box – that time the volume of air in the box
between her face and the ends of the cigars / cigarettes
had cooled the smoke considerably before entering her
lungs. This time it was hot, thick and was pulled directly
from the cigars themselves. It hit the top of her nose and
the back of her throat like fire and she convulsed with the
strength of the hit. As her mother released her finger
thick plumes of smoke stuttered through her small airhole
as she tried to cough the poison out through the small
aperture. But now her body needed oxygen and as her mother
reapplied her finger to the one source of air she
unwillingly pulled an even thicker nosefull of dense white
smoke deep into her lungs again. Because it was a direct
inhale to the lungs there was no fresh air to soften the
hit of the smoke like during a normal puff.
Thick hot billowing smoke poured directly though the body
of the cigar from the burning end deep into her body in a
relentless stream, completely filling her lungs to capacity
as she then sputtered thick rings of smoke back out though
the hole. Her mother released her finger from the hole to
allow Hayley a few of breaths of half clean air. She still
exhaled thick clouds of smoke on her outbreaths, such was
the volume of smoke in her body. Four breaths later she was
just beginning to regain her composure after a few attempts
at coughing through the small hole. She was expecting he
mother to put her finger back over the hole for another
couple of puffs.
Instead, her mother sealed the airhole completely with
sellotape.
She couldn’t believe it. After holding the last breath of
half-clean air in for as long as she could she slowly
exhaled through her nostrils. The exhale blew all of the
smoke still in the main body of the cigar out through tiny
gaps in between the freshly combusted leaves at the burning
end, creating a large fog of smoke around her lower face.
Of course she had to breathe in again soon, and once again
she pulled hot thick smoke into her nose. Her eyes squinted
as she once again felt the full force of the smoke hitting
the inside of her nose and throat. Only her lungs seemed
resistant to the burning harshness of the smoke. Another
exhale, forced out through her nose and through the body of
the cigar to form a billowing mass of smoke emitted at the
burning end.
Her mother held her face between her hands. “That’s right”
she said, “keep going, you’re doing very well. If you think
itąs getting too bad then you could make yourself pass out
by taking several huge sniffs and holding them all in.”
Tears began to stream down Hayley’s face as the assault
continued. Every breath was torture and each time she did
not think she would make it through to the next one. She
tried what her mother suggested and sniffed as deeply as
she could for as long as she could, vigorously pulling a
huge thick cloud of the dense smoke deep inside her. She
held her breath. She did begin to feel dizzy after a few
seconds but her body still needed oxygen and she was forced
to sniff in more huge lungfulls as she tried to smoke
herself into unconsciousness. After the fifth puff she
completely emptied her lungs to enable them to fill
completely on the next sniff – she was feeling so dizzy now
that she was sure that this next puff would be the one she
needed to go over the edge. She closed her eyes and pulled
the smoke through her nostrils one final time, with full
force, absolutely cramming her body full of the hot white
creamy smoke, holding it as deep as she could. The truth
was there was so much of it that it not only filled her
lungs but also her windpipe, throat, mouth and nose – she
was simply full of smoke.
It was here that her mum suddenly pulled the cigars out and
pinched her nose shut. She opened her eyes with a start and
glared with fear into the face of her mum.
“you need to hold it in there for a while” she said. “your
lungs have got some catching up to do if you want to be
like your sisters, eh?” She needed air desperately. She
began to shake. The smoke which filled her up, having
nowhere to go, began to add to the recently created
microscopic layer of brown gunge already there and small
black globules of tar began to form across the sticky brown
film. Her face went red as she began forcing the smoke
through the tape at her mouth. Her mother, wise to her
intentions, instructed Susan to add more tape. She did so,
quickly and forcefully wrapping tape over the tape already
covering her mouth.
It wasn’t necessary – at this point Hayley passed out. Her
mother, seeing her body give up all resistance, immediately
let go of her nostrils and called the other girls round to
watch. A ridiculously large plume of smoke slowly poured
forth from her nostrils and some of it was drawn back in
again as Hayley’s unconscious body set about its automated
tasks and tried to pull some clean air. The thick smoke
continued to flow from her nose with every breath for about
a minute as it was gradually replaced with clean air. In
time she began to come round and started to cough, her
chest spasms increasing in number until she was nearly
sick. Hannah put a glass of water to her lips and she
gulped it down.
“Thatąll do for today˛”said her mum. “Weąll finish her off
tomorrow. By then she should be completely hooked or dead,
so hopefully sheąll see sense and make the right choice.
Put her to bed and stick on the patches. Not too many
though.”
Hannah, whose responsibility it was to adhere the patches
to her younger sister, gave Susan a wink and a knowing
smile. Her mum didnąt need to know how many patches would
be involved.
It was inevitable that not only would she learn to live it,
but that she would get completely hooked.
The smoke box treatments had gone on for over a month at
two day intervals, the days in-between given to the nose
smoking treatments. Two patches on each arm whenever she
wasnąt smoking also contributed to her addiction. At the
beginning, the sisters had covered her arms in about 20 of
the things but they were caught after she was violently
sick all night and the following day. After this period of
time all smoking chores were ceased completely – she was
not even offered cigarettes by her sisters for three days,
after which she was caught smoking in the shed at the top
of the garden by her delighted mother. She was still
scolded of course, and informed that if she wanted to smoke
in the house she would have to smoke an entire cigarette
through her nose without taking a breath of normal air to
prove she was able to do it properly. Of course she could,
and sat on the sofa surrounded by her family, one finger
holding her left nostril shut whilst she eagerly but slowly
sniffed a complete lungful of the Red Marlboro smoke deep
into her, exhaling through her mouth after inhaling to
capacity, then breathing through her nostril again. In fact
she smoked the whole cigarette in this fashion, sniff after
sniff, without taking a single breath of air through her
mouth.
By the time she had finished the cigarette had a good inch
of hot tobacco glowing at the tip, such was the ferocity of
the consumption. Then, to prove her new skills, she
repeated the exercise with the other nostril. Having proved
her abilities, she immediately lit another and smoked it
(through her mouth) down in less than a minute, pulling the
smoke directly into her lungs with long hot inhales that
her body craved. She did not receive the hit she needed by
smoking normally, as she simply could not pull enough smoke
into her mouth before inhaling.
It was on the fourth day that she had first felt the
cravings – the patches had been taken off as she awoke and
although she had still resisted the sisters as they bound
her, she actually sensed a tinge of excitement and
anticipation at the thought of gulping down the smoke which
would soon be filling up completely the box surrounding her
head.
After such intense exposure the addiction overwhelmed her
and she outsmoked each of her heavy smoking sisters with
ease, constantly lighting new cigarettes and even waking
during the night to smoke more. She was fed up with fresh
air and if she could she would have breathed in nothing but
pure smoke for the rest of her life. She had become, at
last, an integral member of the family group, their new
found acceptance of her due to her ability to consume
phenomenal amounts of tobacco fumes with alarming ferocity.
Her favourite smoking exercise was to smoke two cigars at
once directly through her nose, exhaling thick billowing
clouds of smoke through her mouth before immediately
pulling another chestful into her craving lungs through her
nostrils, repeating the cycle for the whole ten minutes it
took to finish off the cigars, completely depriving her
corrupted lungs of fresh air for the entire duration.
Of course her lungs were a sticky black mess within only
six months of her new favourite pastime, and she had a wet
cough which never seemed to ease up. Inevitably, the hits
became less and less intense to her hardened throat and she
desired newer ways for get the ultimate hit from the
nicotine. She knew that she had probably taken years off
her life span and that she was destroying her lungs but she
didnąt care – in fact she felt a thrill at the thought of
having complete control of her own self destruction, and
the urge to force even more and more poison upon her body
increased until this became her eventual aim – to fill her
lungs completely with smoke and hold it in for as long as
possible to maximize the potential damage.
Those urges, almost sexual in nature, would eventually be
fatal. Her final wishes would be that she could enforce the
same treatment on another unwilling (at first) victim and
watch as they blossomed into a hardened, desperately
addicted smoker, or better still to be able go back to her
16th birthday, and feel the smoke again as if for the first
time, that first ever inhalation bombarding her then virgin
throat and lungs with a sensation that would never be as
intense again.