Exploring Freedom: My First Experience with Smoking

This story was submitted on September 26th 2026 by Cicada33, author of The road to freedom. If you have a story to submit it’s right here !

This story is a series divided into 15 parts:

A week has passed since the night I held a cigarette in my mouth in front of the mirror. Every day in the salon I watched Sarah and Lisa smoking, as well as the customers who would come. In the morning and in the evening, I would sit on the terrace with Marta, sometimes in the apartment, watching her smoke cigarettes.

At Martha’s persuasion, I started to drink coffee with her in the morning, with a lot of sugar because the taste was too bitter for me, so that I would have energy during the day for work, and in this way the two of us became even closer. One day Marta photographed me with make-up, my new hairstyle and an unlit cigarette, the photos looked even more beautiful than the previous ones.

Every day I was surrounded by cigarettes and passively inhaled their smoke into my body. My desire to try at least one was growing day by day. All my boundaries that I had before were slowly disappearing before my eyes.

I no longer spoke to my mother every day, in the past week we spoke three times and every time after she started to criticize me I would inform her that she could not talk to me like that. I felt like I was taking control of my life. I told my parents not to come to visit me and that I wanted my peace, because I work a lot in a boutique, but actually I wanted to live my life and right now I liked how I was living it and the salon and Marta brought me a feeling of freedom and happiness.

The atmosphere in the salon has completely changed for me. I was no longer the inconspicuous girl on the corner washing hair in gray, oversized clothes. Now the customers looked at me differently.

Several women openly complimented my new, edgy haircut and skintight clothes that perfectly accentuated my body line. The compliments were good for me, they fed my ego and made me finally feel attractive in my own skin.

“Ena, honey, be good,” Mrs. Lilly, a regular customer sitting in a chair with fresh dye on her head, interrupted my thoughts. “My hands are trapped, and I’ve been dying for a smoke for an hour. Take the pack out of my bag, please.”

I walked over to her expensive leather bag, opened it and found an elegant black box of Sobranie cigarettes inside. I took out one cigarette. It was long, black/brown with a gold filter. As I held it for a second, the paper felt incredibly expensive and smooth under my fingers. I felt a slight chill run through my fingers as Lilly wrapped her lips around the tip, waiting for my flame

“And light me, the lighter is in your same pocket,” she added with a smile.

An unexpected rush of excitement shot through my wrists. I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal lighter. I walked up to her, and my heart began to beat faster as I brought the flame to the very tip of her cigarette. Lilly took a drag, the tip of the tobacco lit up with a bright orange glow, and the sweet, heavy scent of expensive tobacco instantly filled my nostrils. As I watched the fervor spread, I felt a strange, sinful familiarity with the ritual.

“Now do me a favor,” Lilly said as Lisa beckoned her over to the washbasin to wash off her dye. “Hold it for me a minute while I wash off the dye.”

I was left standing in the middle of the salon with a lit cigarette between my fingers. It was strange. For the first time in my life, I held something that was actively burning and smoldering. A thin wisp of smoke curled lazily from the top, and the heat coming from the embers slowly transferred to my skin. I brought it closer to my face, watching as a thin, blue line of smoke crept up my fingers and wrapped around my wrist like an invisible, warm bracelet. I felt like a part of that hidden, adult world of freedom. The desire in me to smoke grew stronger and stronger.

Late in the evening, Marta and I sat on the terrace drinking Somersby in the night breeze. Marta leaned her head against the wall, taking a slow sip, then took out her pack and lit a cigarette.

“By the way, Ena,” she said, her eyes sparkling under the moonlight. “I showed your photos to the team from the studio today at college. People were freaking out. One colleague asked me who this “sly fox” with sexy glasses and a cigarette was and if she would do professional booking for his graduation.”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. “Sly fox”, I liked that for some reason, maybe because everyone called Lisa “Vixen”. The fact that some unknown, cool people from Marta’s world saw me as attractive and charismatic completely fed my ego.

“You really have an attractive charisma, Ena. You could consider modeling, I have some connections in the fashion world, the pay is good, you could just pay school fees and rent with that.”

“I mean, thank you, Marta, really… I’m flattered, but I just don’t have the stomach for it. To stand in front of a crowd of people judging me? Well, my parents would have a heart attack if they saw me on a poster or in a magazine. They’d say I’ve become… you know what.” I answered her, although deep down I was no longer interested in my parents’ opinion.

“Okay, your choice. But definitely think about it, because you’re really beautiful and photogenic,” Marta said and took a drag on her cigarette.

A little after midnight, Marta put out the last cigarette, stretched and went to sleep. I was left alone on the terrace. The silence was thick, and the white moonlight fell directly on the table where Marta, in a hurry, left her cigarette and plastic lighter again.

I took out my phone and opened the gallery again. I was looking at myself, that girl with beautiful hair, a new wardrobe and a cigarette between her lips. I looked powerful.

In my head, the customer’s compliments, the feeling of warmth as I held Lilla’s cigarette, and Marta’s story about colleagues who were delighted with my appearance were all mixed up in my head. Suddenly, my rational mind and medical background completely surrendered to pure, wild curiosity. I wanted to feel what they felt.

I opened the packet with trembling fingers. I pulled out a long, white cigarette. I put the filter between my lips and brought up the lighter. I struck it. The flame caught the tip. I inhaled the smoke weakly, without inhaling it into my lungs. I let the cigarette sit in my hand and burn slowly, like today, and then I brought it to my lips again.

I took a second drag, gently, held it in my mouth for a short time and let it out. The feeling of heat and smoke coming out of my mouth was nice. I held the cigarette in my hand and watched it burn hypnotically. I took the two more drags in the same way.

The smoke was warm and surprisingly soft as it filled my mouth. I felt the taste of dry tobacco and burnt paper on my tongue. It was strange, it wasn’t unpleasant, it felt more like a heavy, thick air that enveloped my palate briefly before I gently let it out, and then, then I wanted to see what it felt like to get nicotine into my clean lungs.

I felt naughty, like I was doing something forbidden. I put the cigarette back in my mouth and took a deep drag, taking in a larger amount of smoke than before and immediately taking it directly into my lungs. The body immediately reacted with shock. My lungs, completely clean and unaccustomed to toxins, wildly rejected the hot, pungent air. That first breath brought an unbearable, rough scratch to the throat. The urge to cough exploded out of me and I began to cough violently and violently, choking on my own breath. In the same second, I felt the ground slipping away from under my feet. The strong, sharp nicotine hit my brain. I got a heavy, blurry dizziness in my head.

In a panic and sheer fear that I would pass out or that Marta would hear me choking, I put out my cigarette in the ashtray and entered the apartment.

I ran into my room, closed the door and literally collapsed on the bed. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest, and my head was still throbbing slightly from that sharp dizziness. When I calmed down and swallowed, I felt a bitter, ashy taste left in my mouth. I was terribly disgusted.

But as I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, with a bitter taste on my tongue, I realized something terrifying. My lungs were suffering, the taste was disgusting, but in my head… in my head I remembered that fast, dangerous and sharp rush of adrenaline from dizziness and that pleasant feeling of calm as the smoke leaves my mouth and the cigarette burns between my fingers.

It was horrible, but it was also damn good. I laughed to myself, I did it, I tried a cigarette.

<-Previous part — Next part ->

Smoking Stories is a non-profit, community built website which only requires a 120$/year subscription to stay alive. To keep on bringing the best smoking fetish content to everyone, we need a total of 10$/month donation, if you want to support our community, you can help by donating (the amount is up to you, you can start at 1$), not only it will help Smoking Stories on the long term but it will also give you access to exclusive stories released monthly.

Side effects of obedience (part 8)

Share this:

Like this:

Similar stories :

Discover more from Smoking Stories

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Want to unlock exclusive smoking fetish stories ?

Discover more from Smoking Stories