ALEC

She is finally mine.

A year of waiting, an interminable courtship, but you have surrendered and are locked to me forever after. Now comes the exquisite shaping of you to my desires. And particular desires I have.

A year of pretending not to smoke while I was with you– I have suffered on weekend trips and long evenings. I think you will soon understand this experience in a very personal way.

Now everything is arranged. A month long honeymoon to the southern coast of Italy. A seaside villa in a remote town. You will be entirely under my control and at my mercy. I have lain my plans long ago when your innocence so affected me.

This is an innocence that is not to last.

BRIANNA

I feel like the luckiest woman alive as I look out over the Tyrrhenian Sea. Jagged rocks sit between our 2-story cottage and the pristine blue waters below. A cool breeze sweeps across my face as I stand on the balcony. I watch two men windsurfing – their brightly colored sails darting back and forth across the waves.

We have just unpacked and gotten settled into what is to be our "home" for the next month. Initially, I was not sure I would like the remote location – I was hoping that we would honeymoon in Venice or Naples or Rome. But as I take in the fresh air and listen to the waves lapping on the rocks, I know you made the right choice. Our villa has a quaint feel, but it is still roomy and furnished with every modern convenience.

I come in from the balcony and see you sitting on the couch. You have been watching me. You smile as our eyes meet. My heart flutters a bit. I wonder what I have done to deserve such an idyllic honeymoon with my one true love. I give you a peck on the cheek and take a seat next to you on the couch. You grab my hand in yours and give it a firm but tender squeeze.

ALEC

I kiss you and pull away to say "You have such pretty lips". I always say this. Innocent dear that you are you have always assumed I am hinting at oral sex, but I have given you little response when you have tried it.

As I look into your eyes I begin to caress you, but a bit too roughly. You respond tentatively as I grasp you clumsily. It is always this way– I know you find my physical attentions too rough and justify it to yourself. But it is intentional: I will associate the rewards of tenderness with your compliance to what I have in store. For now, I am rather more brutish.

I press you back on the couch with my hands squeezing you everywhere. I urgently fumble with your clothes and your own hands comply. Once I have you stripped I pet your lovely breasts for a few minutes and your cunt for a few more (so charming– you never use that word). Then it's out with the sword and plunging into your not yet moistened coozie. I take you quickly and hard and it is over soon. Pretty as you are that is not at all difficult. My fantasies are of what is to come and the pleasure is electrifying.

As rewards for your service I promptly feign sleep which quickly becomes the real thing.

BRIANNA

Having had only two partners before you, I still don't really know what I like sexually. It bothers me a little that I don't usually orgasm when we have sex, but everything else about our relationship is so perfect that I haven't give it much thought. And, of course, I am clueless to the fact that you have been deliberately thwarting our love-making.

As you roll over and close your eyes, I gently rub my clit between my middle and index fingers. I know I will have to stifle my climax, when it comes, so I don't wake you. But what I don't realize is that you already know. You smile as you recognize the familiar sounds and movements of my discreet masturbation.

She is a good woman – a good wife, you think to yourself as you recap how dutifully I pleasured you and now – even in the selfish act of masturbation – how careful I am not to disturb you. You imagine how exquisite my pussy must look, engorged with blood and soaked in sweet juices. You know you will see it that way soon enough.

With that thought, you drift to sleep. I finish and follow soon after.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I awake the next morning to a smoky vanilla smell that has permeated our entire cottage. At first I think you are burning incense, but this seems out of character for you. Then I think maybe you were trying to bake some kind of scrumptious pastry for breakfast, but it didn't work out. I decide this must be it and smile at the idea of you being so loving and thoughtful.

I am surprised to I see you seated at the kitchen table, reading Corriere della Sera and smoking a cigarillo. I have never seen you smoke before, and my first instinct is to scold you for stinking up our house, but I catch myself. The smell isn't terrible, and I have to admit you have a dapper air about you this morning. The newspaper, coffee, and smoke nicely compliment your khaki slacks, burgundy polo, and slick black hair. Plus, I reason, it's not like you are going to make a habit of this – you are just smoking to celebrate our marriage. I glow happily at the thought that you are so excited to be wed to me.

What I don't notice is that you are inhaling the cigarillo smoke – and doing so somewhat greedily. You didn't smoke at all for the wedding or reception. And you didn't have a chance to smoke yesterday because we were travelling together. Even if you had not planned to reveal your habit to me, it is unlikely we would have gotten far into our honeymoon without me discovering your secret. You chose the CAO Bella Vanillas on the hope that I would be less startled by them than a pack of plain cigarettes.

"Good morning, love," you salute calmly as you notice me standing in the doorway.

"Good morning," I reply, shuffling toward the chair opposite you. I see that you have already poured a cup of coffee for me. "I didn't notice you getting up this morning," I comment.

We sit in silence for several minutes, you reading your paper and me sipping my coffee. Once you finish your article, you put the paper aside. "You look beautiful this morning," you say as you drag on your stogie. My cheeks color as you exhale a plume of smoke in my general direction. I have no choice but to breathe some of the smoke into my lungs. Training starts today, you think to yourself. The pleasant feelings from a compliment coupled with the taste and feeling of smoke in the mouth and lungs.

"Would you like to try?" you ask, tilting the cigarillo in the air.

I shake my head in reply. "And you know I'm not going to let you smoke those in our home," I warn.

You chuckle slightly. You are unperturbed. She will change her mind soon enough, you muse.

ALEC

"I thought we would go exploring" I say and you nod your assent. I have been training you to be somewhat submissive both in and out of bed as this will make the conditioning easier.

We don casual clothes but I insist on putting on your sandals for you. I make a deal out of it that I am serving the princess Cinderella. Poor dear, you probably are assuming I have some kind of foot fetish you will have to deal with. What you do not know is that I have applied a nicotine patch to the arch of each shoe. This will become routine procedure and I have them in several strengths as you become more accustomed to it.

We walk down to the town square. It was a June wedding and the weather is perfect. There is a cloudless blues sky (in contrast with the clouds I hope will soon be issuing from your nose and mouth.) The square is little more than a fountain surrounded by two story case and a few shops. After we sample their wares I fall into conversation with the inevitable troop of men hanging out at the tables in front of the cafe.

There is nothing for you to do as you do not know the language. You smile and try to look pretty, you had known this might be part of the job description for a magnate's wife. I do not translate what they are saying for you. They are smoking down to a man and I pull out one of the cigarillos to match them. After a bit I pass it to you as if to be friendly. You refuse as pleasantly as you can. But after several more offers and with the other men watching, you feel obliged. You take a puff and break out coughing. The men laugh– I do too. I can see your annoyance.

After the interminable exchange, we rouse ourselves and take leave.

"They say there is a market a bit further down the road" I say and we head for it. "They also though you were very beautiful and said some things I won't repeat."

I am rewarded by a blush.

The market is a bit small but everything one could ask for in quaintness. You are surprised as the first stop I make is to buy several packs of the small brown Italian cigarettes. What could this possibly mean?

BRIANNA

We continue walking through the market. We visit a fruit stall and pick out some nectarines and figs to snack on throughout the week. Next we make our way to a small boutique, and you encourage me to model several sarongs.

“Would you like to go to the beach tomorrow?” you ask.

“I would,” I smile back, twirling in my brightly colored skirt.

Our last stop is to a small candy shop. Although I don’t speak the language, I get the sense that you know the owner and have been to this shop before. There are several different cakes, chocolates, and other sweets on display, but you don’t encourage me to pick what I might like. Instead, the man hands you a pre-prepared package. “Qui è il vostro ordine speciale,” he says.

We wander slowly back to our villa, taking in the picturesque beauty around us. You have your arm around my waist. I rest my head against your shoulder. As we reach the town square, you propose that we stop and have a snack.

“Why don’t you see what the confectioner put together for us,” you suggest, passing the unopened bag to me.

I look in and see an assortment of cupcakes, pastries, truffles, lollipops, and candy canes. They are all finely decorated and their smells combine to form a rich, warm sugary scent. I study the contents for nearly a minute before deciding on a pink and green swirled lollipop. I pass the bag to you, but you just shake your head. I take off the wrapper off the candy and lick lazily as we watch carts and mopeds hurry past.

You watch me intently, knowing that each of the confectioners treats is laced with 2mg of nicotine. You wonder if I will notice the effects. It’s hard to know for certain how much nicotine I received from the sandals, but with this the dosing is all but certain. I look more relaxed to you, but maybe it is just your imagination.

Hoping that I am experiencing some pleasant feelings from the nicotine, you decide to light up one of your cigarettes. After all, your goal is not to get me hooked on lollipops. I am momentarily annoyed as I hear your lighter click, but the feeling passes almost immediately. I know I should scold you for smoking so much, but for some reason I can’t focus on the thought. We sit silently together, me licking and you smoking, until both of our treats are gone.

That evening, as we prepare for dinner, you apply another nicotine patch to each of my sandals. During the meal, I start to feel slightly light-headed and nauseous.

“Darling, what’s wrong? You have barely touched your meal,” you observe.

“I don’t know. I’m not hungry. I feel a little sick.”

You blame the food and put on a good show of being angry with the chef. “Questo cibo non è buono,” you yell at the waiter, shaking your fist. But all the while, you are secretly pleased to know that I am feeling the effects of the nicotine. You know my body will quickly adjust to the poison, learning to crave instead of reject it.

ALEC

When we return home (after removing your shoes) I get you some tablets for your headache. You are very appreciative of my consideration. But the tablets are not aspirin. They are in fact nicotine lozenges I obtained by mail order. Not that they won't do the trick of curing your headache I think. A bit of a hair of the dog in this case.

That night our lovemaking goes rather differently than before. I light candles and turn out the lights while opening the curtains to our marvelous view of the sea. Then we kiss and make out for a long time. You must suppose that it is the affect of the environment getting through to me. And in a way it is– the thought of what is beginning to run through your veins has quite aroused me. But there is also purpose in my special attentions to you. Any time you are receiving your dose you will be rewarded. And today you have (and will be) quite the dosed little doxy.

I bring you one of the pastries from the confectioner and have you decadently enjoy it while I begin to move my attentions down your body. I start with your beautiful handfuls of breasts, rubbing round and round until the nipples are quite thick and prominent. This is something I have rarely seen– I have not given you the luxury of becoming truly excited during our lovemaking. I tickle them sweetly and hear you moan as you reach for another confection. I think– 2 mg plus 2 more, plus the 2 from earlier, that's 6 mg, in addition to what was in her sandals– I feel myself swelling at the thought of the invasion your body is experiencing. And so much more to come.

I run my hands down your flat belly and sides using light fingertips and am rewarded by more moaning. Your thighs part for me, but I ignore it for the moment and instead move down to your feet. The way to a woman is through her feet and a man would be wise to remember it. I give you a slow gentle massage until you are shifting you hips back and forth uncontrollably. Then I begin moving up your legs until I reach your center. The wetness is remarkable. I have never seen you like this. My own fault of course. I reach for the bag of confections, this time drawing out a candy cane. I slowly slide the shaft of it into you, receiving a gasp in reply. I can tell from your expression you find this terribly naughty. I pull it out again and begin a twisting/thrusting rhythm I can tell you like very much.

Then I reach for a bottle of massage oil I had hidden under the bed, and spread it liberally across your swollen lips. I use the lube to begin running circles around your clit. At this point I have to use my elbows to hold down your legs to keep you from kicking me. You are panting and repeating "Oh my god, oh my god." I spread on more oil and circle faster. Can you guess my secret? It is not oil, but Nicogel. And now with the poison attacking you from both ends it's time to give you your reward.

I shove the candy cane in deep and pinch your clit, twisting it first one way then the other. Your body jerks and I continue a fast light rubbing. I watch you go rigid making deep groaning sounds as I go on. I don't let you off the peak until you start to fight me. Then I gently let you down and finally take my doped darling in my arms. Gentle kisses and caresses seal the deal: you will come to associate the drug with sexual release. They are one and the same.

Afterwards, you try to be gallant and want to go down on me, but you have rarely had a climax of this magnitude and it has tired you out. Also, for some reason, you are feeling rather dizzy. All of it conspires to set you drowsing, and, still protesting you fall asleep. Ironically, tonight it is I who must resort to self attention for my pleasure. Afterwards I enjoy a cigarette and watch you asleep. I am almost giddy with what I have in store for you. I lean down and put my lips to yours, blowing a billow into your inhaling mouth. Then I stroke your hair and whisper in your ear: "no escape".

As I fall asleep, I remind myself that I need to mix more of the Nicogel into the suntan lotion for tomorrow's excursion.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2opcga/alec_and_brianna_1_of_10_mf_smoking_roleplay