I was playing catch-up this weekend and reading all of the threads from December through today and it gave me a chance to reflect on all of instances in my life where smoking became engrained into my being. The thread about smoking moms and also the forced smoking thread were of particular interest to me.I'm 37; I grew up on the tail-end of the era where smoking was socially acceptable. By today’s standards my childhood would be considered politically incorrect.
Smoking was ever prevalent in my life. Both of my parents smoked, but, the only smoking that I really remember is my moms and that of any other female in my life along the way.
Most of what I have discovered about myself is in reflection so the exact memories of how it happened aren’t always clear, but the feeling and the general gist of what happened lives in my memories.
At age 4 or 5; sitting on the back patio with my mom and my younger brother while my dad is mowing the lawn. My mom lights a cigarette and I must have made some comment about it. Next thing I know she handed me the cigarette and tells me to try it. I don’t know if I inhaled accidentally, but, I know I had a violent coughing reaction.
What stands out is what she said, “You’re turning green; is mommy’s cigarette too strong for you”?
The tone in her voice was almost that of a taunt, like you’re not man enough to smoke.
For the years that followed there were the comments along the way that always reinforced that first experience. “Anytime you want to smoke, I will be glad to give you pack and make you smoke them until you turn green”
From these early experiences I began to associate smoking with strong Dominant women. I would always perceive a woman smoker, no matter her age as being strong enough to smoke.
My mom was always smoking, including anytime I was spanked as a child. This caused an association between smoking and strong, authoritarian and disciplinarian women.
Fast forward to age ten or eleven. I must have started to hear a little bit of anti-smoking propaganda at school. Riding in the car with her one afternoon, she’s chain-smoking as usual. I proceed to tell her that smoking is bad for her, I hate her smoking in front of “us” and that I’ll never smoke.
She never missed a beat, or a drag for that matter, and without remorse said, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep”
Talk about a taunt or a dare, it was as though she was saying Oh, you’ll smoke eventually it’s just a matter of when.
At the time none of this seemed odd, but, I’m certain that it caused me to start smoking. Heck, she planted the seed that I would smoke eventually.
I never heard the word fetish until I was twenty-two or twenty-three years old, but, certainly I had one. I always remember being attracted to women who smoked, I would always try to date women smokers and of course both of my marriages were to smokers.
I am submissive to my fetish and was submissive to both wives. Smoking made for some wonderful experiences with both wives. Not unlike many of you who posted your experiences, I was subjected to ashtray play, forced smoking and discipline. I have nothing but fond memories of the smoking play. Both marriages flourished when it came to sex, romance, the fetish, etc. Both ex-wives loved using my fetish against me and for their pleasure and benefit. I say that only to be clear that neither marriage failed from anything having to do with smoking or my fetish.
Now, here in 2007, where I live, adult smokers are a measly 18% of the population. It’s frustrating, that means less than one in five prospective girlfriends are smokers.
I’ve rambled on long enough, so thanks to everyone who shared their stories about smoking moms and forced smoking, be them fact or fiction. It gave me a wonderful trip down memory lane and reminds me why I have a smoking fetish.
