Arriving in the living room, I sat on the couch. I noticed two open packs of Tareyton 100’s in front of me on the coffee table. Michelle explained that one contained the thirteen cigarettes left over from part 3 ½ and the other pack contained the remaining five from the earlier episodes.Part four, she emphasized, is going to be a little less grueling. You will have 80 minutes to smoke the thirteen cigarettes and then eat the five from the other pack. Thank you Michelle, I said meekly.
Ready, set, go. She started timing the eighty minutes. Knowing this was an easier task I set out to finishing quickly. I smoked non-stop for 70 minutes, finishing unlucky number thirteen. Then I choked down and ate the five cigarettes from the other pack. Of course I puked, but, that was getting to be a common occurrence this weekend. My torture for the night ended and we headed off to bed.
Sunday morning came and I was awakened by smoke being blown into my face at 5 o’clock AM. I must have tried to turn away from it because she soon grabbed my chin while exhaling directly at my mouth and nose. I did not fight her as we sometimes played sexually with smoking related games like this. She placed the cigarette into her lips and with her free hand reached under the sheets and felt for me. She was not disappointed, as I had been turned on by her smoky exhales.
She pulled the covers back and made love to me, keeping the cigarette between her lips except when ashing. At the conclusion she lied next to me and lit another cigarette. She looked over at me with a wicked smile and said, I’ll bet you wish you were having an after sex cigarette right now. Yes I said enthusiastically. It's too bad that you quit smoking as a New Year’s Resolution. Then she exhaled in my face and giggled.
She hopped up when finished with her cigarette. Her demeanor changed back to this weekend’s stern tone. Be in the living room in fifteen minutes. Ugh, I thought.
I stopped in the kitchen to get a cup of coffee on my way to the living room. Get yourself some water she called out to me. So I brought a glass of water with my coffee. Joining Michelle on the couch I noticed that she had the carton I purchased sitting on the coffee table. She did an inventory in front of me, emptying out the contents on the table. You only made it through five packs yesterday. It seemed like more, I chimed in. She just glared at me, as if to say you better hush up.
Open a pack she said to me. I grabbed one of the five packs and pulled the cellophane wrapper loose. Today is going to be a tough one, you did well yesterday, but today, I’m going to test your resolve. Remember, if you quit before it’s over the New Year’s Resolution will stand. Do you understand me she demanded?
Yes.
Good, then for breakfast this morning you will eat that pack of cigarettes. Go get a plate and the waste basket. I returned with both. She ordered me to remove all of the cigarettes from the pack and place them onto the plate. I did so. The sight of twenty cigarettes on the plate was overwhelming and psychologically defeating.
I did as I was told, one after another. Wanna quit now, she asked every time after I vomited? I ate and I vomited and I ate and I vomited, I think you get the picture.
Get another pack. I grabbed another one. Open it and start smoking. My mouth tasted horrible after all of the aforementioned sickness. But I smoked and smoked and smoked. I vomited, I smoked. Wanna quit now she continued asking? No, I replied! I finished yet another pack. Judging from when I think we started, it was about two hours and ten minutes.
The truth is I did want to quit. I wanted to make this torture stop. I can’t quit I kept telling myself, quitting is what got me into this to begin with. Or was it starting up again, I can’t remember.
All you have to do is tell me you quit, you can go back to being a non-smoker, she said. No, I want to smoke. I don’t think came out quite right in my anger at her trying to get me to give up.
Fine, smoke another pack. I started and I smoked and then I got sick and repeated the cycle on and on. When I slowed down, guess who was in my ear saying you better get going unless you’re quitting. My lungs burned, my stomach was in knots, I was ill beyond anything I’d ever experienced in my life.
