Sarah Packs It In
Kool Guy
I may regret posting this, but here goes. As some of you may know,
I have written several stories about Lori and her daughter, Sarah,
two hopelessly addicted chain-smokers, whose primary purpose in life
is to destroy their lungs by smoking. Lori succeeded, after thirty-
two years of smoking three packs per day. Now Sarah is following
in her mother's footsteps.
All of my stories have been posted at either the Smoking Fetish
Message Board or the Sea of Smoke Storyboard. A few of them were
"tame" enough to subsequently be posted at Loring Holden's story
site. The rest of them were so controversial that no self-respecting
web site would touch them with a ten foot pole. They deal with graphic
descrptions of lung damage, hardcore smoke-sex, and other depraved
stuff. They will certainly disturb many people. But, for some of us,
those who are turned on by what I call, for lack of a better term, the
"dark side" of the smoking fetish, these stories, and others like them,
are incredibly arousing.
I was reluctant to post any of these stories at ASG, but, with
encouragement from others, I have finally decided to do so. My
main reason for posting here is that there just doesn't seem to
be enough traffic on the message boards. Here at ASG, I know I will
reach a much larger audience. I am hoping that there will be others
out there who will be turned on by this type of fiction but who may
not have run across the message boards.
The story I am posting here is the latest installment in a
continuing story at Sea of Smoke. Several people have contributed
to this story. Here is some background information for those of you
who have not read the preceding installments:
Sarah's mother, Lori, has just died of lung cancer, after thirty-
two years of heavy-duty smoking. Sarah has requested, and received,
a transplant of one of her mother's lungs into her own chest. Sarah
has a hole in her neck from an emergency tracheotomy. She now likes
to smoke through this hole as well as through more conventional
openings. Sarah's father, Mark, has married Mitzi who attended to
Lori during her final days. The most important fact to keep in mind
about Sarah is that she is obsessed with destroying her lungs. The
ultimate sexual turn-on for her would be for her lungs to finally
and completely give out as she takes her final drag. This is what
drives Sarah. This is what makes her smoke more and more.
Depending on the reaction this gets, I may or may not post more of
my stories here. If you wish to read other stories at the Sea of
Smoke, the URL is:
http://www.InsideTheWeb.com/messageboard/mbs.cgi/mb45853
If you want to read earlier stories, which have already rolled off
the board, feel free to e-mail me and I will be happy to send you
a copy.
Well, here is the story. All comments are welcome :-)
-----------------------------
"Sarah Decides To Pack It In"
Sarah walked from her bedroom with a freshly lit cigarette dangling
from her lips and another one stuck firmly into the hole in her neck.
She was pulling her oxygen tank behind her and carrying a carton of
cigarettes and her two special ashtrays. The tip of the cigarette in
her neck glowed and dimmed as she inhaled and exhaled. The cigarette
in her mouth glowed brightly with each cheek-hollowing drag she took.
Thick smoke flowed from each of her nostrils as she walked down the
hall toward Mitzi's room.
Sarah was about to knock on Mitzi's door when she saw Mitzi on the
floor, on her hands and knees. Mitzi was gasping with short, wheezy
sounds coming from her ruined lungs. It was obvious to Sarah that
Mitzi had just had another emphysema attack. Her disease was getting
worse. Forty-five years of smoking more than three packs of
full-flavored cigarettes per day had definitely taken its toll. Mitzi
was unable to do much physical activity anymore. Most of the time she
sat in her room and chain-smoked one high-tar, ultra-menthol Kool
after another.
Mitzi appeared to be struggling for her breath. Sarah started to reach
out and help her, but decided to watch quietly for a moment. Mitzi's
trembling hand was reaching for her oxygen tank, which was beside her
bed. Her hand passed right over the oxygen tank and plucked her pack
of Kools from the nightstand. Somehow Mitzi was able to shake a
cigarette loose and place it between her lips. She grabbed her lighter
and, with a badly shaking hand, flicked it to life. The insides of her
two cheeks nearly touched each other as Mitzi dragged with all the
force and experience of a forty-five year hopelessly, but willingly,
addicted chain-smoker. The tar-rich smoke started coursing through her
lungs as she dragged again. Mitzi pulled the smoke from the second
drag deep into her clogged air passages as she reached over and turned
on the valve of her oxygen tank. She grabbed her mask and placed it
over her face just as she completed the third drag of her
well-practiced triple-pump. She breathed in hard through her oxygen
mask, forcing all of the smoke from her enormous triple-drag deeper
and deeper into the blackened crevices of her rapidly deteriorating
lungs.
Mitzi inhaled the oxygen deeply one more time and removed her mask.
She then raised her Kool to her lips and took another long,
cheek-hollowing drag. Once again, she forced the smoke down with a
large hit of oxygen from her tank. This was followed by yet another
drag from Mitzi's beloved Kool.
Sarah became highly aroused as she watched Mitzi repeat this process
several times. She was dragging deeply on her own cigarettes and
starting to rub her moist vagina when she spoke up. "Damn, Mitzi! That
sure looks like fun! Mind if I join you?"
"Oh! You startled me!" said Mitzi in a deep, wheezing voice. "How long
have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to know that I like it," said Sarah in her own husky
wheeze. To sit between the two of them, as Mark frequently did,
listening to their stereophonic wheezing, was to die and go to heaven.
Sarah could masturbate just listening to herself breathe, especially
since receiving her mother's formerly cancerous lung into her own
ashtray-like chest cavity. There was now a definite gurgly effect with
each breath Sarah took.
"Well, come on in and join the fun," said Mitzi. "Your father just
left for work."
"I know. I heard him leave," said Sarah. Short, machine gun-like
bursts of smoke escaped her mouth with each syllable she spoke. The
cigarette in her neck was nearing its end. She plugged her nose,
closed her mouth and inhaled as deeply as she could through the
opening in her trachea. Her incredible chest expanded as Sarah's lungs
made a series of popping and wheezing sounds. The tip of the cigarette
glowed brightly as the remaining ash burned down and fell off onto
Sarah's robe. There was nothing left but a dark brown, tar-stained
Marlboro filter sticking out of Sarah's neck.
As Sarah removed the burned-out filter from her neck hole Mitzi
remarked, "I need to get one of those holes in my neck. How do you
like it, Sarah?"
"I love it!" she replied. "I call it my grand opening. I don't know
how I ever got along without it. I can now smoke twice as much as
before in the same amount of time. It's wonderful! And it makes my
chest feel so full. Every morning I wake up with this incredible
aching in my chest. I have never felt such a debilitating tightness in
my lungs. Even ten solid minutes of deep coughing doesn't clear it
out. It's just always there now. I'm hoping it will keep getting a
little bit worse every day. And then, one day, all my hard work will
pay off and my lungs will completely collapse like two punctured beach
balls. They will be unable to inflate again. I will suck and suck on
my dark brown, tar-saturated filter, but nothing will happen. And
then, as I slowly asphyxiate, I will experience the greatest orgasm of
all time. I will die while climaxing. That is my ultimate wish. It is
what I dream of every night. My only regret is that I can only
experience it once."
"Oh, God! That sounds wonderful!" said Mitzi, now getting moist
herself, as she lit up another Kool and turned off the valve on her
oxygen tank. "I was having a little trouble breathing just now. I had
to take some oxygen. I think my lungs are pretty close to giving out
themselves. I can hardly even walk across the room anymore."
"Please!" said Sarah, now highly aroused. "You're making me so
jealous. You have earned every bit of the damage you have done to your
lungs. You have done it all yourself. You should feel so proud. I
would be honored to have lungs like yours. I was too impatient. I just
couldn't wait thirty years for my lungs to get like my mother's. I
needed it now."
"I completely understand," said Mitzi. "To have one of your mother's
lungs inside of you must be the most amazing feeling possible. You are
a very lucky young lady. My lungs can't compare to Lori's."
"Yes, I guess you're right, Mitzi. I certainly can't complain," said
Sarah. "Hey! Let's have a little contest and see if we can fuck up our
lungs some more. We should be able to cause some heavy-duty lung
damage in a relatively short period of time."
"Sounds like my kind of game!" said Mitzi.
"OK," said Sarah. "I brought a carton of cigarettes with me. It's a
mixed carton. I put in five packs of my Marlboro 100s and five packs
of your Kools. I've got a new oxygen tank. We are going to sit here
and smoke until this entire carton is gone. You can take a hit of
oxygen whenever you want to, but once the oxygen is gone, you have to
keep smoking until the carton is finished. If you start another oxygen
tank, you lose. So you'll have to pace yourself. If we get through the
entire carton, and we haven't finished the oxygen tank, whoever has
smoked more cigarettes will be the winner."
"And what are we playing for?" asked Mitzi.
"Why, for another carton of cigarettes, of course," said Sarah. "That
and the chance to do incredible amounts of irreparable damage to our
lungs!"
"Ooooo, you're getting me excited," said Mitzi with a deep, gurgly
cough. "Let's start now!"
Mitzi contnued to cough as Sarah explained a few more rules. "I will
not be able to use my neck hole because that would give me an unfair
advantage." She inserted her little plug into the opening in her neck.
"Every cigarette must be smoked right down to the filter. If there is
any unsmoked tobacco in a butt, that butt will not count toward your
total. I have brought my two lung ashtrays. You can use one and I'll
use the other. That way we can each keep track of our own butts. Any
questions?"
"When can I light up?" asked Mitzi as Sarah started coughing.
"We'll start on my......third......cough from......now!"
Mitzi waited for her queue as Sarah continued to cough. On the third
cough Mitzi grabbed a pack of Marlboro 100s from the carton and
started peeling off the cellophane. Sarah grabbed a pack of Kools as
she continued coughing. Mitzi lit up first and took a long, deep drag.
Sarah lit up her Kool with a cheek-hollowing drag as Mitzi started her
second drag with smoke flowing from each of her nostrils. The cool
smoke from the menthol cigarette felt good on Sarah's throat as she
finally stopped her coughing. Her lungs sounded like a pair of old
accordions as they began their familiar wheezing sounds. Sarah
finished that first cigarette in less than three minutes. She
continued chaining, one cigarette after another, and Mitzi did the
same.
Sarah was alternating Marlboros and Kools. This made for a wonderfully
rough feeling in her throat. She finished her first ten cigarettes in
just over thirty minutes and she was ready for some oxygen. Sarah
didn't really need the oxygen, not the way Mitzi did. She just loved
the way it allowed her to smoke more and to pack mass quantities of
tar into her lungs. She lit a fresh Kool and pulled the smoke deep
down into her black, congested lungs. Without releasing any smoke she
placed the mask over her face and turned on the oxygen. She inhaled
deeply. The oxygen forced the smoke deeper into her lungs. She removed
the mask and took another lung-filling drag from her Kool. Again, she
sucked all the smoke down and held it deep within her lungs. Sarah
placed the mask over her face and inhaled deeply. The incoming oxygen
made her feel as if she hadn't taken in any smoke, even though her
lungs were nearly saturated with the smoke from her first two drags.
She took another long, cheek-hollowing drag and inhaled deeply.
Sarah repeated this process until the cigarette was finished. She had
never released even a wisp of smoke from her lungs. Every particle of
tar from that cigarette had become part of Sarah's lungs, a permanent
part of her. They would darken the color, intensify the smell, and
gnarl the texture of Sarah's already horribly abused lungs. The
thought of what she was doing to her own lungs made Sarah incredibly
aroused. She could hardly keep from rubbing herself as her moist
feminine juices began to flow. Her lungs felt fuller and tighter than
they had ever felt. They were packed full of tar and nicotine. It felt
as if someone had poured wet concrete into her lungs. There was an
aching feeling deep within her chest. Sarah could contain herself no
longer and began to masturbate, even though Mitzi was sitting right
there.
Mitzi didn't care. She went right on smoking. She had pretty much kept
up with Sarah, drag for drag. And, if the increased physical activity
of masturbation would not have taxed her overburdened lungs so much,
she would have joined Sarah. But she was afraid that she would force
her lungs to use too much of the precious oxygen prematurely. She was
certainly aroused enough to masturbate and was rubbing her pussy. But
Mitzi preferred to reserve what little lung capacity she had left for
smoking. She was determined to go as long as she could without the aid
of oxygen. She wanted to save the oxygen for when she really needed
it. She was starting to make short gasping sounds with each breath.
Each smoker was accumulating a small mound of brown-stained cigarette
butts in her lung-tray. Sarah delighted in burning the walls of her
former lung. Every time she crushed out a cigarette in her ashtray,
she made sure to hold the glowing ember of her cigarette butt against
her former lung tissue until she heard sizzling and popping and saw a
little black bubble of charred lung matter form on the surface. There
were now hundreds of burn marks all over each of Sarah's ex-lung
halves.
Sarah was well into her second full pack. Mitzi was keeping up with
her, but was starting to have real trouble breathing. She decided she
couldn't wait any longer. She lit up one of her Kools and pulled the
smoke deep into her decrepit lungs. She held the smoke in, took
another deep drag, and placed the oxygen mask over her face. She
breathed the oxygen in deeply, exhaled slowly, and took a long, deep
drag from her Kool. She felt the smoke trying to work its way into her
extremely damaged air sacs which were starting to crystalize from
years of bombardment with the menthol from her beloved Kools. Mitzi
had finally reached the point where the oxygen hardly made a
difference anymore. She breathed deeply again through her mask until
the feeling of lightheadedness went away. Her alveoli were now able to
take in just enough oxygen to keep her alive. The slightest physical
exertion, even attempting to stand up, would probably cause her to
black out. Her body desperately needed more oxygen. Mitzi weakly
lifted the filter of her Kool to her lips and dragged with all the
force she could muster. Without releasing any of the smoke from her
ragged lungs, she dragged again and inhaled deeply.
Sarah watched in aroused awe. How truly beautiful to see a woman so
dedicated to her cigarettes. Sarah knew the feeling only too well. She
felt the same way about her own cigarettes, her partners for life,
Marlboro 100s. How arousing to see another woman who, like Sarah,
cared more about smoking than life itself. Sarah thought Mitzi might
be dying, but envied her in every way. She truly wanted to feel what
Mitzi was going through at this moment. She knew she would go through
it herself one day, but wanted so badly to feel it now. "Do you want
to quit for a while, Mitzi?" asked Sarah, secretly hoping that the
answer would be no. "Maybe you should give your lungs a break," she
said, knowing full well what Mitzi's answer would be.
"fuck, no! I don't want to quit! This game is just starting to get
fun," said Mitzi, who seemed to have revived herself somewhat. She
grabbed a Marlboro 100, broke off the filter, lit up, and inhaled the
thick, tar-rich smoke deep into her lungs. Smoke started escaping
through her nostrils as she dragged again on the filterless cigarette.
"Jesus Christ! You are amazing, Mitzi!" said Sarah as she lit up
another Kool.
The smoke-a-thon continued with each woman alternating menthols,
non-menthols, and hits of oxygen. Sarah's lungs were packed to the
limit. She didn't think it was possible for her lungs to feel this
full. The feeling was so overpowering that she had already masturbated
several times. She was still so aroused that, with a Marlboro Gold
dangling from her smoke-glazed lips, she walked over and started to
massage Mitzi's breasts. She could tell Mitzi was in a state of
arousal, but knew that she didn't have the strength to massage her own
breasts. Watching Mitzi's eyes, Sarah moved her hand down toward
Mitzi's vagina. Seeing no sign of disapproval, she started to massage
Mitzi's moist pussy. She slowly started moving her fingers in and out
of Mitzi's pussy as Mitzi started to squirm in ecstasy. Mitzi took a
long, final drag on her cigarette and crushed it out in her half of
Sarah's dead lung. Sarah took a deep drag from her own cigarette and
placed the filter between Mitzi's lips as she started moving her
fingers in and out of Mitzi more rapidly. Mitzi took a deep, dangling
drag as she approached her climax. Sarah started moving her fingers
faster and faster. The tip of Mitzi's cigarette glowed brightly for a
full twenty seconds as her orgasm reached its peak. She moaned loudly
as smoke poured from her mouth and nostrils. Her body was shuddering
with delight and continued to do so for some time after her orgasm had
passed. Finally, she took another deep drag on her cigarette and
clamped her legs tightly around Sarah's wrist. Mitzi gazed up at Sarah
and said, "Thanks! I needed that!"
For a moment Mitzi appeared to be relaxed, but then, suddenly, she
broke into a violent coughing spell. The sexual activity had been too
much for her. It was a dry, hacking cough. It sounded painful. Sarah
got her a glass of water, but it didn't help. Mitzi kept coughing and
coughing. She was now having difficulty breathing again. Sarah placed
the oxygen mask over Mitzi's face and turned on the oxygen. Mitzi
continued to cough into the mask. She meekly lifted her hand and
formed a "V" with her index finger and middle finger. She moved her
fingers up to her lips and pulled them away again as she continued her
painful hacking. Sarah knew what she wanted and lit up one of Mitzi's
Kools. She removed the oxygen mask and placed the cigarette between
Mitzi's lips.
Mitzi tried to inhale and coughed all of the smoke out. She tried
again and, again, she coughed up all of the smoke. After a third
unsuccessful drag, she finally inhaled and did not cough. She held the
smoke deep in her lungs and dragged again. A big smile crossed her
face as she completed yet another triple-pump and held all of the
smoke deep within her nearly useless lungs. She said to Sarah, "You'd
better get smokin', or you'll never catch me!"
Sarah shook her head in amazement and lit up another cigarette. She
said, "I hope I have your determination when my lungs are as bad as
yours, Mitzi."
"Don't worry, honey," said Mitzi. "I've never seen anyone who was more
of a natural smoker than you. Smoker. The word defined Sarah. She was
born addicted to nicotine and had never been without it. With her very
first breath she had inhaled smoke from her mother's dangling
cigarette. Lori had insisted on smoking during Sarah's delivery. It
was the only way she could get through the delivery, she had said.
Sarah would die with a cigarette in her mouth and cigarette smoke in
her lungs. It aroused her greatly to think of herself in this way.
The two women continued to chain-smoke one deeply inhaled cigarette
after another. There was now half a pack of cigarettes left from the
original carton. There were four Kools and six Marlboro Golds left.
Mitzi had used up the last of the oxygen eight cigarettes ago. She
was, again, in bad shape. She was taking short, gasping breaths
between deep inhales from her cigarette. But she was determined to
make it to the end of the carton without any more oxygen.
The two smokers continued methodically, taking one deep drag after
another. Mitzi was lying flat on her back in bed and dangling her
cigarettes as she smoked them. She did not have the strength to sit
up. In fact, Sarah had to light Mitzi's cigarettes for her. This was
an ironic turn of events since Mitzi had originally been hired to
light Lori's cigarettes for her when Lori was dying of lung cancer.
Sarah said, "I'm glad I am able to repay the kindness you showed to my
mother."
They were down to two cigarettes, a Marlboro and a Kool. Sarah lit the
Kool and placed it into Mitzi's mouth. She lit her own Marlboro 100
and dragged deeply. She felt the smoke soaking into her diseased lung
tissue. Her lungs were so packed, she didn't know how she could keep
forcing more tar into them. She felt an incredible ache from deep
within her chest. She loved the feeling and didn't want it to go away.
She wanted it to hurt more and was already thinking about her next
cigarette.
Sarah and Mitzi crushed out their final cigarettes simultaneously. In
just over eight hours they had finished off a full carton between
them. But who had smoked more? Sarah began to run her fingers through
the dark brown, deeply stained filters in her ashtray. She started to
count them, one by one.
Sarah blinked in amazement as she counted the last of her butts.
"Un-fucking-believable!" she shouted.
"What is it?" asked Mitzi.
"This isn't possible," said Sarah. "I counted one-hundred cigarette
butts in my ashtray. I counted them twice, just to be sure. Math was
never my best subject, but I'll be pretty damn surprised if you don't
have one-hundred butts in your tray. We tied! We have been
chain-smoking for eight hours and we fucking tied!"
"What do we do now?" asked Mitzi.
"There's only one thing TO do!" said Sarah. "We'll have to start all
over again!"
Sarah and Mitzi each broke into a huge grin as Mitzi pulled a fresh
carton of Kools from her bureau drawer.
Kool Guy
MoodyRiver
Kool Guy,
If you post em, I'll read em.
*MoodyRiver*
Bo969
> may regret posting this, but here goes
Well Kool Guy--seing as you asked for comments--heres mine.
You obviously are a talented writer, so I wont venture there. I do however
find with much amazement that evidently some people find a slow agonizing death
to be arousing. Contents such as--
>Sarah could masturbate just listening to herself breathe, especially<BR>
>since receiving her mother's formerly cancerous lung into her own<BR>
>ashtray-like chest cavity. There was now a definite gurgly effect with<BR>
>each breath Sarah took.<BR
makes me ill just reading it (which I admittedly did so as to give a fair
evaluation).
It does however make me wonder if you are a hard line anti smoker who may be
using a bit of reverse psychology to get a point across.
Here at ASG I have spoke out against censorship, be it nudes, xxx rated,
transvestites etc. so in being true to my beliefs, I acknowledge your right to
post. All that I would ask of you, is to clearly identify it in the subject
line. I ask this because there is very little outside of kiddie porn that
offends me. Finding pleasure in someones death or in your characters
case--their own death is to me the true meaning of pornography.
Most sincerely..............Cros'
MoodyRiver
Kool Guy...
Yeah...some people get it...and some don't. Obviously Cros doesn't...but don't
let that stop you. Personally, I wasn't thrilled by the story, but I *did*
find it of some interest. Post em all. Thanks...
*MoodyRiver*
Kool Guy
Bo969 wrote:
> Well Kool Guy--seing as you asked for comments--heres mine.
> You obviously are a talented writer, so I wont venture there. I do however
> find with much amazement that evidently some people find a slow agonizing death
> to be arousing.
I find it amazing, too. The human mind is an amazing thing,
isn't it?
> makes me ill just reading it (which I admittedly did so as to give a fair
> evaluation).
I'm sorry you became ill. I hope you didn't vomit on your keyboard.
> It does however make me wonder if you are a hard line anti smoker who may be
> using a bit of reverse psychology to get a point across.
I assure you, I am not an anti. Nothing could be further from the
truth.
> Here at ASG I have spoke out against censorship, be it nudes, xxx rated,
> transvestites etc. so in being true to my beliefs, I acknowledge your right to
> post.
We are in complete agreement on that point.
> All that I would ask of you, is to clearly identify it in the subject
> line.
How would you like me to label it?
> I ask this because there is very little outside of kiddie porn that
> offends me.
I guess I'd better not post my story about Sarah's third
birthday :-)
> Finding pleasure in someones death or in your characters
> case--their own death is to me the true meaning of pornography.
If it turns you on, it's pornography; if it turns me on, it's art :-)
All kidding aside, your reaction is perfectly understandable and it
is the very reason I was reluctant to post my stories here. I don't
enjoy offending anyone unnecessarily. As I said in my previous post,
my main reason for posting here is to reach others who may be turned
on by this sort of thing.
It would be almost impossible for me to explain why I find this type
of story arousing because I don't understand it myself. I only know
it happens. I bet that you can not explain why you are turned on by
the image of a woman smoking (you are, I assume).
I have always been turned on by the sight of a woman smoking. If all
I ever got from the internet were the pictures I have downloaded
from ASG, I would die a happy man. I do not require the lung damage
aspect of the fetish to become aroused. But, from a very early age
I noticed that the more a woman smoked, the more I enjoyed it. The
more deeply she inhaled, the more deeply I was aroused. I hate
pictures of exhales, because that means smoke is coming out of the
woman. I want her to inhale the smoke, hold it deep in her lungs,
and never let it out.
There have been plenty of posts, here and on the message boards,
from guys who are turned on by smoker's breath. There have been
many posts from people who find a smoker's cough arousing. Each
of these would be considered negative side effects of smoking by
most people. If some of smoking's consequences can be turn-ons
to people, is it so hard to believe that some of the more extreme
consequences can be equally arousing to others?
I am no pshychologist, but my opionion is that each of these
harmful side effects is an indication of a woman's total
commitment and addiction to cigarettes. In my case, I believe
the addiction is at the heart of my fetish. The idea that a
woman can be so addicted to nicotine that she would never
consider quitting, even after developing lung cancer, is the most
arousing thing I can think of. And there are women like that in
real life. I'm sure you've all seen news stories of people who
continue to smoke after getting lung cancer or emphysema. And
I'd be willing to bet that many of you get at least somewhat
aroused when you hear of such women.
The big difference between such real life women and Sarah is
that women in real life do not want to ruin their lungs. They
want to keep smoking, but they hope that they will be among the
lucky ones who never get a smoking-related disease. Sarah is a
quantum leap ahead of these women. She is definitely addicted and
she will definitely never quit smoking. But, she is SO thoroughly
aroused by the thought of a woman who would keep smoking, even after
getting lung cancer, that she wants to BE one of those women. That's
what makes Sarah so incredibly arousing to me. It is not the lung
damage itself that turns me on, but the fact that Sarah wants it so
badly.
Obviously, Sarah is a fantasy character. There is no one like
her in real life. And I should make it clear that I am not
aroused by women with lung cancer in real life. This stuff that
I write is strictly fantasy. My own mother died of lung cancer
and there was nothing enjoyable about that experience for me.
However, I must admit, that her morning coughing spells, long
before we found out she had cancer, were the most arousing thing
I ever heard. Many mornings as a teenager I woke up to that
sound and, well, I don't need to tell you what I did after that :-)
I guess my bottom line is that there are many different flavors
to this fetish we share in common. None of us really knows why
we are turned on by certain things and turned off by others. I
enjoy writing these stories because they are a release for me.
They are a way of expressing thoughts, feelings, and fantasies that
I have kept inside of me my entire life. Writing this stuff is
like therapy for me (I know--some of you think I need lots of
therapy :-)
I would simply urge each of you to enjoy and indulge in the things
that turn you on and ignore the things that don't. To paraphrase
the immortal Rodney King: "Can we get a lung, people? Can we all
just get a lung?"
Kool Guy
Jevex
Kool Guy wrote:
> Bo969 wrote:
>
> > All that I would ask of you, is to clearly identify it in the subject
> > line.
>
> How would you like me to label it?
-------->You could try "Story - DarkSide"
--------And I'm another one who'd appreciate your finding a label to
use on that type of story. Since reading your first two submissions
to Loring's pages, I've avoided reading anything you've sent in, on
general principles. But, you're a talented writer, and - God knows,
you could get a burr under your saddle one of these days, and write
a story that doesn't involve terminal lung damage as a fetish-object,
and that's one I'd like to read. I'd really appreciate being able to tell
the difference between the two types of stories!
>
>
> Obviously, Sarah is a fantasy character. There is no one like
> her in real life. And I should make it clear that I am not
> aroused by women with lung cancer in real life. This stuff that
> I write is strictly fantasy. My own mother died of lung cancer
> and there was nothing enjoyable about that experience for me.
> However, I must admit, that her morning coughing spells, long
> before we found out she had cancer, were the most arousing thing
> I ever heard. Many mornings as a teenager I woke up to that
> sound and, well, I don't need to tell you what I did after that :-)
--------->Thank you for sparing us all the grisly details!!!!!
> I guess my bottom line is that there are many different flavors
> to this fetish we share in common.
-------->What? We've turned into Baskin-Robbins, suddenly?
> None of us really knows why
> we are turned on by certain things and turned off by others.
-------->Speak for yourself, KG. I have some very good ideas asto why women who
smoke turn me on.
> I
> enjoy writing these stories because they are a release for me.
> They are a way of expressing thoughts, feelings, and fantasies that
> I have kept inside of me my entire life. Writing this stuff is
> like therapy for me (I know--some of you think I need lots of
> therapy :-)
--------->I won't say that the normal smoking-fetish is deserving oftherapy (other
than repeated long-term exposures to gorgeous babes
who smoke, understand the fetish completely, and take full advantage
of that knowledge!), but as the bit about your mother borders on the
concept of incest, you might want to have _that_ looked into!
>
>
> I would simply urge each of you to enjoy and indulge in the things
> that turn you on and ignore the things that don't. To paraphrase
> the immortal Rodney King: "Can we get a lung, people? Can we all
> just get a lung?"
-------->Simply one of the most attrocious puns ever printed in thisnewsgroup!!!
--Jevex--
>
>
> Kool Guy