Emily watched from the car with intent.
She scrutinised a beautiful young girl across the street from her. The girl had flowing shoulder length curly crimson hair; captivating large green eyes and smooth milky skin. Her name was Amber Wilson and she was the tender age of nineteen.
Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched Amber reaching into her handbag for her now precious cigarettes. Emily felt flushed, “how could such an innocent looking girl be about to do this?” she questioned in silence.
Amber had been smoking for a few years but this was her first pack of 120’s. She precariously drew out an all-white cigarette and placed it between her full red lips. Amber produced a lighter and carefully lit the tip of her cigarette and sucked, the smoke poured into her mouth. She opened her mouth and slowly inhaled; her lungs absorbed the blissful chemicals into her bloodstream as the alveoli’s screamed as they were forcefully soaked in yet another thin layer of tar.
Amber pursed her lips and blew out a long stream of creamy smoke. Amber didn’t have the capacity to appreciate the damage she was causing her near perfect body. Amber brought the long cigarette to her lips again and closed her eyes as she took a long drag, her soft breasts rose as she breathed in the thick smoke.
Emily had been admiring Amber for quite some time. Aside from working as a biomedical scientist this was her ‘pass-time’.
Amber took her last drag and proceeded towards her small car blowing a wisp of artful smoke to the sky, singing its farewell to her lungs. It was late and she had finished working, sun set early this time of year so it was starting to get dark already. She sat in her seat and let out an airy sigh. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain around her neck and she choked, her pathetic lungs gasping for air. A soft but commanding voice came from the back seat.
“Drive”.
Emily pulled the piano wire tighter and Amber complied fearfully.
Through winding streets and avenues they entered the country side without conversation. Amber pulled up along side an abandoned brick building shaded by a canopy of trees following Emily’s commands. Emily instructed Amber to keep her hands on the wheel. Emily stepped out of the car and opened ambers door, her gaze met Ambers. Her big green eyes were tearful, confused and scared.
“Out of the car”
Amber rose from her seat; her cold pale hands were shaking as Emily heartlessly cuffed her hands. The entered the building and Amber was knocked unconscious.
Amber’s eyes flashed open, blinking rapidly. She felt cool air on her body and she couldn’t move. She was naked, bound to a metal bed in a white plain walled box shaped room. An air tight mask with a long protruding pipe leading to some sort of stove covered her mouth and nose. She screamed.
Emily sat casually in the next room observing through a one-way mirror, this was it. She got up, placed a cat half-mask on her face that covered her eyes and walked through the door to where Amber lay.
“Do you know why you’re here, hun?” Emily said with a smile
Amber let out a cute whimper as little tears trickled down her face, Emily relished in the thought of where every breath uttered from this girl came from.
Emily knelt by Amber’s ear and whispered, “Everything you’ve ever done up until now”, she paused and kissed Ambers ear playfully.
“As a little girl in school; so innocent; so happy. You used to be healthy, running around with that happy smile on your face”.
“What are you talking about?” Amber begged in her gentle voice.
“You’re a smoker honey, but you could have been perfect. But you threw it all away; those full red lips are tainted. Oh and your lungs,” Emily looked almost sorrowful as she placed her hands on Ambers chest feeling every rise and fall, just visualising. “Your lungs are so black, they’re never going to be pink and perfect like mine” she giggled, knowing her superiority.
“Anyway, you poor doll. I bet you really need a smoke huh?” Emily teased, she pinched Ambers nipple making her let out a girly cry in pain. She walked over to the stove with her smooth elegant legs, winked at Amber through her mask and pressed a button. Smoke began to flow down the tube towards Amber’s mask. Alarmed, Amber started struggling but it was no use, soon her mask was engulfed in a cloud of tobacco smoke – and in turn so were her lungs.
Emily saddled her new playmate and rested her ear upon Amber’s warm chest. She closed her eyes and thought; “a few inches away are a pair of once healthy lungs. Now they’re full of carcinogenic smoke, scarring them forever; so dark; so beautiful”. Emily ran her fingers along Amber’s smooth ribs.
At first Amber was calm, but shortly after her eyes began watering and she began to feel very dizzy. Her lungs were desperate to be freed from their tarry imprisonment. Emily unsaddled her playmate and stopped the stove, then proceeded to remove the mask from Amber. Amber exerted a wet and sickly exhale as she gasped for clean air.
“Please no, not again!” Amber exclaimed once she had finished attempting to clear her chest.
Emily smiled at her and said, “You’ve done well today, I’m going to bring you some food if you promise to smoke these three packs of cigarettes before noon tomorrow”. Emily pointed out a clock on the wall.
She placed three packs of Marlboro Red 100s and a lighter on a small metal cabinet beside the bed on which Amber lay.
“I promise.” Amber said, despite the event just past she cherished the idea of lighting a cigarette, sucking all of that yummy smoke into her youthful moist mouth and pulling it deep into her lungs, relaxing her. The beautiful nicotine caressing her delicate body, devilishly planting its seeds of addiction on its wicked journey – like a parasite clinging to its host.
“Good girl, when I leave the room you will be unbound” Emily winked and blew a kiss as she left the room and her parting words were “You’d better inhale”.
Amber’s shackles were released and she slowly rose from the bed, her head still spinning as she tried to stand up. She noticed a wardrobe in the room and stumbled over to open it. In it she found expensive female clothing and lingerie, heels and corsets and the like. She felt cold so she picked out the only coat (a classy fur one) and wrapped herself up in it and sat back down on the bed hugging her knees to keep warm.
Amber’s chest felt tight and she coughed a little. She was eying the cigarettes on the bedside cabinet, she wanted one so badly. She wanted to feel in control again, to control how much pleasure she gets from her erotic smoke.
At the back of her mind Emily’s voice rang, the sound of her voice saying “black lungs”. Amber opened her coat exposing her breasts and slowly ran her hand down her smooth pale chest, closed her eyes and imagined the state of her lungs. She found it difficult; she took a deep breath and imagined her tar filled alveoli trying to expand within their tarry casing, and exhaled. She opened her eyes and glanced at the 3 packets of Marlboro Reds and picked one up – ‘tar 10mg’.
She took the wrapper off and shakily opened the pack. Voices uncontrollably bounced around her head in chaos. Like an angel and demon on either shoulder, the demon devoured the angel as Amber took a cigarette from the packet and placed it between her soft perfect lips. She brought a lighter to the tip and sucked, closing her eyes. The aromatic smoke poured into her mouth, upon opening her mouth a wisp of smoke disappeared into the depths of her lungs, playing dangerously whilst exciting her lung flesh.
The voices stopped. Amber opened her eyes and exhaled the smoke to the ceiling and slumped into the bed and took another drag. Her whole body tingled; she couldn’t believe how excited she felt about smoking all of a sudden. The danger felt kind of arousing, she thought. Amber brought the cigarette up to her face and her youthful, green glowing eyes looked at the filter – there was an evident dark brown stain, even though she had only finished half of the cigarette. She continuously wrapped her moist lips around it and sucked, inhaled, sucked again, inhaled. Amber’s lungs began to burn as she took another deep drag and pursed her lips and exhaled a plume of smoke, she smiled.
Amber withdrew another cigarette from the pack and lit it from the previous one. She got up to explore a bit more, all the while smoking. She looked at the clock and it read “1:58 am”. It was approximately 6 cigarettes per hour until her captor returned, and even still she wanted to be finished before, as she needed sleep.
She kept the cigarette in her mouth as she felt around the room, constantly having to breathe that strong smoke. Was there a way out? There was a small room with a bath and toilet, but in the main room she found a black indented outline that resembled a door with a small keyhole beside the wardrobe, she pushed on it but nothing happened. She wondered what might be behind it but she couldn’t see through the keyhole. Amber also noticed a camera watching her, in this room and the bathroom, so her captor would find out if she hadn’t been smoking and inhaling. She closed her eyes and performed a French inhale with the last drag of the cigarette, returned and crushed it out in an ashtray and lit up another one. She felt somewhat worried, however would she manage 57 more – they are so strong she thought! She needed to find a way out.
Meanwhile Emily was driving to the hospital through the dark night. A few weeks ago she received a lung sample from a biopsy of a 36 year old woman with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease whilst working in the lab. Curious, Emily dug into files and found the patient was Patricia Rosenthal, an attractive, upbeat waitress who worked for an upmarket restaurant.
Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease is very rare in people under 40 years old but Patricia had a string of health problems from her obsessive chain-smoking habit. Although she still retained her sexy youthful features facially she was visibly a smoker.
Tragedy struck and Patricia’s life was taken away at the hospital as her bodily functions slowly and painfully ceased, but she had been a beautiful and dedicated smoker through her life of which she never regretted. In her teenage years she encouraged all of her friends to smoke. Claire, one of the youngest of those friends was by her deathbed as Patricia passed way. She coped with the only way she knew how and resigned in tears to the hospital smoking area and chain smoked 5 cigarettes in memory of Patricia, smoke flowing out of her portent lungs as she wept openly. One day Claire would be as heavy a smoker as Patricia was and she’d become even more passionately in love with her cigarettes, and she’d share it affectionately with all of her young susceptible female friends.
On learning of Patricia’s death Emily decided to break into the hospital morgue – she wanted something. She arrived and parked up nearby but out of the line-of sight of any security cameras. She undressed and changed into stealthy attire and brought two bags with her, one filled with metallic tools and the other an insulated cooler bag.
Emily with her well-toned athletic body slid in through one of the windows. It was dark and the lights of security cameras flickered. She clung to the wall. Gently and quietly she skulked down the corridor to where the bodies were kept. The double doors opened with a tiny squeak and she slid in.
Emily found her. There she was, Miss Rosenthal. Her body was amazingly perfect for her age, so slender, and feminine in everyway. Emily walked over to her and touched her smooth skin, it felt ice cold and it send a shiver up Emily’s spine – but she smiled.
Carefully Emily climbed on top of Patricia and started stroking her cheek as she leant forward and gently pressed her lips against hers, despite the cold. Emily’s red lipstick made Patricia’s lips a deep red also
“It’s so nice to finally meet you Patricia”, Emily whispered as she kissed her more passionately whilst caressing her body.
“I got to know your lungs before I got to know you; I guess they must be an important part of you huh”? Emily placed her hand on Patricia’s breast and squeezed it gently; the skin felt so smooth to the touch and her nipple was hard. She imagined Patricia violently coughing, and her chest heaving as her lungs finally succumbed to the lustful tar just before she was forcibly killed by it. But now she was totally at peace, her body didn’t resist anymore and the smoke had claimed another victim, and such a beautiful one at that.
Emily gasped from arousal and kissed Patricia’s sweet red lips one more time, and then she reached for her bag of tools. She felt relieved she had beaten the mortician for the ‘autopsy’.