Becoming the Ultimate Smoke Slave

If you would like some context before you read this story, read my posting "A Sexual Autobiography" first. It will provide some background on Elizabeth, Alain and myself, the life we lead, and where my role as a smoke slave fits into our life together.

My family and friends know Elizabeth and myself as non-smokers. Our children believe that we consider smoking to be a filthy habit, bad for one's health, and a total waste of money. As I have said to them on numerous occasions, "if you want to see your hard earned cash go up in smoke, that's the way to do it.

Indeed, I have never smoked even one cigarette in my normal persona, although Elizabeth was a smoker earlier in her life, and even now she will occasionally have a cigarette with her tea to start out the day.

Yet, as Ash, in my leather gear, I am not just an anonymous leather slave for Elizabeth, but I have become a total smoke slave, as well. Over the last ten years or so, Ash has been forced to smoke hundreds of thousands of cigarettes by his Mistress.

I am sure that there are people who will view this story with a significant amount of distaste, maybe even closing it up after these first few paragraphs, and I would not blame them. Smoking is a total turn-off for many people, as it was for me for the first two-thirds of my life.

However, anyone who has a deep interest in fetish, as I do, may find my story interesting and instructive to read, as it clearly defines how experimentation can lead to habits being formed, which in turn can lead to obsession. And Elizabeth and I have become obsessive about having me as a smoke slave.

If you were to ask me if I like smoking, my answer would be "no", totally different from my answer if you asked me whether I like pain, both physical and mental, where my answer would be "yes'. The only thing more painful than a great whipping is watching your adored wife being well fucked and taken over by her lover, and knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.

However, for me, smoking and sex together are a powerful combination, especially when I am ordered to do it by my Mistress, and I have no choice but to obey. Non-compliance is not an option in our relationship. Even as Ash, I would not of my own accord, go upstairs to our playroom, where most of the smoking action takes place, and open a package of cigarettes. You should understand that in our relationship, Elizabeth's instructions cannot be disobeyed.

When I am at work, travelling, or simply having fun with the family I will not go near a cigarette, and I feel not craving to do otherwise. Consequently, I can go two or three weeks without going near a cigarette. If anything about smoking can be considered healthy, I believe that these extended periods of not smoking give my lungs a chance to recover, before the next bout.

To be clear, until 12 years ago I had never once smoked a cigarette, and thought that I never would smoke a day in my life. At this time Elizabeth did not smoke, although she had smoked occasionally when she was younger, but gave it up quite a while before her children were born.

However, over the years, as I collected erotic photographs and videos, I came across numerous photographs of women, particularly dominas, smoking, and I found these quite engaging and arousing. Very often as they smoked, they would have extremely dominant, even cruel, expressions on their face.

One in particular, an English domina called Miss Chambers interested me. I found her photographs first in a femdom magazine, and then I located her web site. She looked a bit like Elizabeth, blond, good looking and was usually engaged in very extreme dominant play, and the services she offered included 'fire play' -- in other words, smoking.

From the photo sets I was able to find, it was clear that Miss Chambers used her submissives as her ashtray. Frequently she would be depicted flicking a long column of ash off her cigarette into the mouth of her willing slave, or about to stub a cigarette out on the slave's tongue or chest.

I showed her pictures to Elizabeth and asked if they interested her at all. She clearly was interested, and said that she thought we should give it a try. I remember that my first smoke-slave instructions she gave me were to go and purchase a pack of cigarettes that we could use in our next bondage session. After a little research, I selected Benson and Hedges Sapphire, which has become our brand of choice. I only discovered subsequently that Sapphire is one of the strongest cigarettes on the market.

One of our favourite activities is for Elizabeth to dress up in one of her leather outfits, myself to take on the guise of a totally anonymous leather slave, with chrome cock ring around the base of my cock, and then have some fun on our couch before moving to the playroom where we keep our fetish equipment for more dominant-submissive roleplay.

The first Saturday we used the cigarettes we were on the couch, watching a porn movie, almost certainly involving well equipped black males and very accommodating white sluts. Elizabeth was also wearing her executioner's hood, much as in the photograph shown below. She looked exceedingly dangerous I thought.

This time we had added an ashtray; lighter and the cigarettes to our accessories. As usual, after she had brought me to a full, mildly painful, erection, Elizabeth straddled me and had me fuck her for a while before she ordered me down between her legs to eat her as she continued to watch the movie.

She took a first cigarette from the pack, and lit up, taking a big deep drag on it and blowing the smoke down in my direction. I thought she looked incredibly sexy.

Once she started to build up some ash on the cigarette she told me to stop eating her and kneel between her legs.

"Open your mouth, and put out your tongue," a command that his been repeated thousands of times since that day.

The she very deliberately flicked the ash off onto my tongue, and I drew it into my mouth. The texture was very grainy, and it tasted something like a I always imagined earth would taste -- not pleasant, but not unpleasant, either.

This disposal of ash was repeated as she continued to smoke the cigarette. Towards the end, as I was taking it into my mouth, I wondered how she was going to stub out the cigarette. In the ashtray? On my tongue? On my chest? Or, and I shuddered inwardly, on my cock?

In the end she chose to stub it out on my tongue. Compared to some of the whippings that I have had over the years, the pain was relatively mild, equivalent maybe to the pain from a strong nipple clamp, but quite transitory -- it did not last for long.

I think she smoked three or four cigarettes that afternoon, each time repeating the procedure as for the first one. Then, she allowed me back to finish the job I had started on her pussy.

Afterwards, when we migrated to the St. Andrews cross, and before she gave me a very sound whipping, she informed me that she had really enjoyed the cigarettes, and that from now I could consider myself her personal ashtray which would include services for the disposal of ash, and also as a place for her to stub out her cigarettes. I have to say that I really was very excited to hear that, although I had no idea at the time to where it would eventually lead us.

Interestingly, by the next day, there was virtually no evidence that three cigarettes had been stubbed out on my tongue -- no marks and no pain. I learned afterwards that the tongue heals incredibly rapidly.

Over the next months, we incorporated cigarettes and smoking into our sexual repertoire on almost every occasion. Elizabeth increased the number she would smoke in a session to maybe as many as eight or ten, always using me as her ashtray. In between sessions though, we felt no desire to smoke.

As we got more into this new smoking fetish, Elizabeth started to vary how she used me as an ashtray. Sometimes she would only flick part of the ash off onto my tongue, instead using the ashtray for disposal. However, at the end of a session like this, she would forcibly make me lick the ashtray clean, holding my head down to the task until she was satisfied with my efforts.

She also varied where on me she stubbed out her cigarettes. The tongue continued to be a favourite spot, but she quickly migrated to my chest, and then my nipples. On occasion she would stub out as many as five cigarettes on each nipple in one session. This was much more painful than on my tongue, with an intensity of a hard lash with a thin whip -- very focused and sharp.

Burns on my chest and nipples took much longer to heal than those on my tongue, and on my chest, always left a small white scar. Sometimes I might have as many as twenty fairly fresh burn marks on my chest that today is covered in these small white scars, which are especially noticeable after I have been out in the sun.

At a point Elizabeth decided that she wanted to brand me. So over a period of about a month, she burned the letters EJ into my chest just above my left nipple (visible quite clearly as I check now). This I absolutely loved, and still do, as it was and remains a tangible mark of her ownership of me.

The final place to receive her attentions was my cock. Eventually, she started to stub out at least one cigarette every session on my cock. This, I learned, is very painful, not so much on the head of the cock itself, but on the foreskin -- lots of nerve endings there. It's diabolical when I am fastened to the cross, and blindfolded and I have no clue that it's coming. Of course, I love it, and I'm always waiting for the next time. And when I masturbate, while they are fresh the burns give me a mildly painful reminder of what has taken place. While they take time to heal, the scars on my cock gradually fade over time, but continually renewing them helps enforce Elizabeth's basic rule for me, "no pleasure without some pain".

One afternoon, as I was strapped to the cross in my studded hood, collar, leather harness and pants, and I had been whipped for a bit, Elizabeth brought out one of our leather ball gags. This was not unusual, as she liked to fasten me in it when she whipped me especially hard. She pushed the rubber ball into my mouth and secured the gag firmly around my head.

I was completely taken by surprise as to what happened next. She picked up a pack of cigarettes, and I assumed that she was about to light one and smoke it.

Light it she did, but then she turned it around and pushed it against the ball gag. When she moved her hand away, the cigarette was no longer there, but remained in the gag, and I was inhaling cigarette smoke.

Unbeknownst to me she had taken our electric drill and bored a hole just wide enough to accommodate a cigarette down through the gag, as shown in the photograph of me below.

Elizabeth pinched my nose with her fingers, so that I had no option to breath through my mouth, which, of course, meant that I had no choice but to draw in the smoke of the cigarette. "I think that I shouldn't be the only one ruining my lungs," she said, "So I've decided you should join me occasionally from now on."

She had blown cigarette smoke into my face and mouth before, but now I was experiencing the real thing. We had recently come across some pictures of forced smoking, but I had not really thought that it might happen to me. After all, I was a non-smoker. Did I like it? Not really, but it was quite exciting and I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

As I continued to inhale, I could tell that she liked what she was seeing, she was really excited by this new development, and I knew that this would not be a one-off event, but that a new experience had been added to my submissive repertoire. Indeed by the end of the afternoon, I been forced to smoke two more, and all three had been stubbed out on my chest.

So, forced smoking was incorporated into our sexual repertoire, and not just when Elizabeth was present. We both travel quite a lot for work, and it had been her practice for some time to leave me with instructions to occupy my time at home while she was away. It was not long before the instructions included smoking directions, as shown in the example given below.

And she started to ratchet up the number of cigarettes that I was expected to smoke. It was not very long before she was instructing me to smoke a pack a day, which at the time we both thought was quite an onerous requirement. Also, we had now found photographs of slaves being forced to smoke multiples, so Elizabeth had made me modify a bridle gag we possessed and by drilling the holes make it into a triple smoking device -- three cigarettes at a time.

________________________________________________________

Instructions for Thursday, April 20^th , 2009

Expectations: Total 21 cigarettes

No deviation from rules outlined below

Time:

• 8:30 a.m. to 11:30 p.m.
• 1:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m.

Attire:

• a.m. -- leather pants, harness, biker jacket
• p.m. -- harness and chaps

Schedule:

• a.m. Total 12 cigarettes
  • 8:30 -- 10:00: yard work, clean up sticks & pile
  • 10:00 -- 10:45: in cage (outside), read erotic novel, triple gag on-and-off, 3 bouts of 3 cigarettes -- stubbed out in ashtray (collect ash only)
  • 10:45 -- 11:30: more yard work, end with triple gag and 3 more cigarettes (remember to save all ash for later in afternoon) -- stub out on tongue
  • clean up ash

• p.m. Total 9 cigarettes
  • 1:00 -- 4:00
  • Cuffed to cage, chains on legs
  • PES machine on the whole time
  • Watch erotic movie
  • 3-gag: 3 cigarettes per hour; 1 per hour stubbed out on cock (no stubbing on nipples)
  • Clean up ashtray at end of day
  • End day with cum cocktail

The way our life works, we are both away from home for maybe 120 days each year, including about eight weeks we put aside for holidays. At home, we are probably accompanied by family and friends for another 80 days a year. No smoking gets done in these periods. But that leaves about 165 days when either I am at home alone, or we are at home together by ourselves, and gradually we filled up many of these days with smoke-slave activities for me.

One website that has inspired us in these activities is concerned with smoking domination. On this site Mistress Elisabeth comes across as a very dominant smoking mistress. Her slaves are usually totally leather encased anonymous gimps, like myself. She herself is always dressed in leather, usually accompanied by a military style peaked cap. In typical scenes from her site, the slave is usually totally immobilized by wide leather straps wrapped around its torso.

Mistress Elisabeth smokes what I would call cigarillos, cigarette shaped small cigars, which I know have a particularly acrid smell. She uses these as her primary torture devices, forcing her slaves to inhale their smoke, smoke them, take her smoked butts into their mouths, and of course, stubbing them out on various parts of their anatomy. Elizabeth uses many of the same techniques with me.

I should mention that our sex life, already good, improved even further after I became a smoke slave. Elizabeth by this time was very interested in developing a relationship with Damian, a very successful and attractive business acquaintance of hers. She was actually quite infatuated with him.

She tried to spend an increasing amount of time with Damian, who lived about 2 hour's drive away from our house, using mutual work interests as an excuse. So our sex life became suffused with stories of Damian and what Elizabeth wanted to happen with him if she could seduce him. Smoking added a whole new dimension to these conversations.

Her stories, told to me either as pre-bedtime stories over the phone, if she was away, or as she was tormenting me in our one of our sessions were graphic and detailed. On several occasions she pretended to be coming home from another tryst with Damian, telling me about all they had done together, which always led to some wild sex, with me playing the submissive cuckold husband.

For example, one of these I remember well was when she told me that he was leaving his wife, and had asked her to move in with him. This scenario clearly excited her, and her treatment of me as she told me her story was harsh, even by her own severe standards. I was left with marks everywhere for several weeks.

Smoking became a standard accompaniment to these stories.

It was during one such session in 2011 that the smoke-slave thing took another step forwards. To this point in time I had always had a gag in my mouth as I smoked, but on this particular day, Elizabeth became very aroused by what she was telling me, and just grabbed a handful of cigarettes from a pack, about ten I think, stuffed them into my mouth and lit them. When I had finished that set, she grabbed another handful and repeated the process.

By now we were buying Sapphires by the carton, so she had no shortage of supplies, so by the end of that afternoon, as well as being severely whipped, she had forced me to smoke a hundred cigarettes. The room was hazy with smoke, even with the widows open, I tasted and reeked of nicotine, but we both agreed that the experience had been quite amazing.

In 2010, I would guess that I was forced to smoke, at most, two packs each day I was active, so maybe a total of six thousand cigarettes, less than someone smoking a pack a day would consume.

In 2011, I started keeping count of the number of cigarettes I smoked each day and during the year. I did so because the amount of cigarettes I was smoking took a sharp kick upwards as Elizabeth became more extreme in her demands.

That year, I smoked almost fifteen thousand cigarettes, about as much as a person smoking two packs a day would consume. However, I used all these cigarettes in just one hundred and thirty five smoking days, so on the days that I did smoke I averaged five and a half packs a day, on some days as many as ten or twelve packs.

By now the gags had been dispensed with, and I was smoking up to twenty cigarettes at a time, as is shown in following photograph. We had Northbound Leather, our favourite Toronto store, design me some hoods specially for smoking with large enough holes for cigarettes to be inserted into the nostrils, as well as the mouth, allowing for maximum inhalation.

I talked about obsession earlier, and it was in late 2011 that we both became obsessed with the smoke-slave game. Elizabeth loved to arrive home and find her anonymous leather smoke slave waiting for her, with maybe two dozen empty packs in front of me on the desk. She had decided, and I did not disagree, that I should become the ultimate smoke-slave, whatever that might look like, and told me that I should expect to smoke at least 40,000 cigarettes in 2012.

Smoking continuously, I can do seven or eight sets in an hour, so it does not take long at all to smoke a hundred cigarettes. In ten hours of continuous smoking I found that I could easily achieve targets of one thousand in a day that Elizabeth occasionally set me in my daily instructions.