A Matter Of Habit
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Smoking Habit free porn video
Smoking Habit
By Suzanne
It all began on a lonely stretch of roadway South of Fort Nelson. I was headed South to
Chicago from Alaska. I had been traveling the Alcan for about 36 hours now, and I was
damn tired. I had made it through Yukon and now I think I was in Alberta. Some damned
province in Canada was about all I knew.
I sped along at about 100, and that was Miles, not Kilometers like the signs had
posted. I figured if I got pulled over I would play the ignorant American part for the
Mountie. My little Dodge was about screaming for gas, and I was sure it needed oil too,
it always did. The little needle on the fuel gauge had gone so far past the E, that I
swear it had rotated back to F.
Finally I saw salvation. A single gas station at a nowhere town (it could barely be
considered that) called Wonowon. Not a very creative name considered that the town was
situated on historic mile marker 101. I poured into the station on the last ounce of
forward momentum that the Neon seemed to have. As the dust settled I achingly stepped
out of the car and stretched my legs, nearly falling over in the process. That'll teach
me to drive a Clutch on those hills. I was just about to start pumping when a small
Japanese man (boy that's almost redundant) came out of the shack that made up the
station.
The man greeted me, "How are you doing today?" I think he spoke English better than I
did.
"Pretty good, yourself." I returned, the sound of my own voice popped my ears. It was
actually nice to have someone to talk to after all this time.
"Summer's great for us, we sell a lot of gas, will that be regular or premium."
He asked as he unscrewed the gas cap.
"Regular, you check oil too?"
"No but I'll sell you some. It's not really full service, just kinda difficult to use
this old pump." He stated as he gave the rusted old thing a kick start. "You can go
check out the shop if you want, we take U.S. currency."
"I'll do that. Thanks."
I stepped inside the shack to the tinkle of a small bell. The shelves had some strange
'collectibles' I assume, mixed in with the classic junk food of the average roadside
shop. About the only joy on these long trips on the Alcan were the unusual Canadian
snacks.
Of course food wasn't as much a priority as taking a wicked piss. So I then proceeded
to the men's room. While taking care of business I observed some interesting graffiti
on one of the walls. In large carved script it read 'Fuck Canada' but just below it
someone had scrawled 'What, Again?' - for some reason I found it an amusing example of
the Canadian point of view. In fact it wouldn't surprise me if the shopkeeper himself
had scrawled the second part himself.
After I zipped up I took a quick look at myself in the half a mirror (some cruel
vagabonds appeared to have smashed it long ago). I looked pretty scruffy and tired. My
black hair was mussed up and my clothes weren't much better. So I splashed my face with
some water, attempted to hand comb my hair and headed back out.
The shopkeeper was waiting for me behind the counter. "Anything else Jim?"
My mind never registered the last part of that question, a mistake I have come to
regret. But it was at that exact moment my hankering kicked in and I remembered I had
run out of cigarettes at about Summit Lake.
"I'll have a Coke, a bag of those chips and some Winstons."
The shopkeeper pointed to the end of the counter, and there sat a bag of chips and a
Coke covered with the sweat of a drink pulled freshly from the fridge.
"Damn, that's quite something." I remarked astonished.
"I get quite a few like you in here, its nothing really. You can trade for a different
flavor of chips if you like."
"Nah that'll be fine. How much." I asked as I pulled my wallet out of my Carhart
Jacket.
"Well there is one thing, we're out of Winstons." He said out of the corner of his
mouth.
"Well some Marlboros then." I stated, afraid of what he was going to say next.
"We're out of those too, all we have left are some Virginia Slims." He stated as he
placed a pack on the counter.
"And it's how far to the next town?"
"A Hundred miles or so."
"Well fuck it, it's a cigarette, just cause its marketed as some chick cigarette don't
mean it ain't got tobacco." I slurred as I whipped out about 40 bucks and put it on the
counter.
The shopkeeper rang it up to about 39.90 and tossed me my dime. A Canadian one at that.
"Well I trust you won't be disappointed, Jim."
"Nope, thanks a lot."
As I left the doorbell tinkled behind me. And I took a good chug of the cold Coke.
Which rang odd since I don't recall seeing a cooler in the joint. But lots of strange
stuff happens when you're as tired as I was. As I started up the old beast I vowed to
get a hotel in the next town and sleep for the night.
A dozen or so miles down the road as I crested a mountain pass, rising above an unusual
fog bank, the urge got me, and I had to have a smoke. I pulled out the pack and
examined it for a brief moment. "Virginia Fucking Slim." I said to myself for no
particular reason. Then I pulled one out and lit up.
Frankly it tasted shitty to begin with, and I coughed a bit. But slowly the taste
seemed to improve as the tingly rush from having been without nicotine for nearly 4
hours swept through my body. It was nice. Soon everything was cool, even though I found
myself fighting with a slow moving Winnebago.
As I passed the Motorhome with Idaho plates. I felt something odd. My pants were
uncomfortable. After I settled back in my lane I undid the button. That felt a bit
better, but these were my traveling pants, and were already a size too big.
"I must be getting fat, its all these damn Doritos." I said as I pitched the bag into
the back seat.
I took another drag of the cigarette, and was met with another odd sensation. My legs
itched, all over, instantaneously. I reached down to scratch the worst areas, but it
seemed to spread across most of my body, and intensified in my groin area. I was about
to scratch there before I noticed I was drifting off the road. I immediately jumped to
attention, both hands on the wheel. All the while puffing away at my cigarette.
I had moved into a bank of tight turns and had to pay attention to my driving, despite
being terribly uncomfortable. My pants felt really tight now, and my crotch was
burning. I took a moment to scratch at the itching on my chest. I must have pressed too
hard because I managed to hurt myself. This was about too much.
As I came out of the last descending turn I noticed a roadside turnoff. I decided to
take the opportunity to find out what the hell was going on. As I pulled into the
turnoff my groin felt like it was on fire. Putting the beast into park I practically
leapt out of the car. But the moment I stood up the pain in my groin seemed to
disappear, but for a slight itch. I was puzzled and looked back at the seat in the car,
and saw nothing there. As I turned around my throat felt like it tightened a bit. I
thought perhaps it was the cigarette, but felt no compulsion to stop smoking it.
I reached down to scratch my groin, and as I brought my hand to where my little buddy
had always been I was met with nothing but bare skin. I squealed, in horror, and then
again to hear a very high feminine voice. I pulled my jeans down and then my underwear,
exposing a flat tummy soon followed by my brand new Venus Mounds topped with a small
tuft of hair. I reached down to feel if it was real. I rubbed my finger across the lips
and felt a sensation that was somewhat pleasing and totally foreign. As I raised my
finger to viewing level I could see it was smaller and more effeminate, but it was also
slightly moist from my crotch. I screamed again, this time dropping the cigarette in
the process. I ran over to the car and looked at myself in the reflection.
There I saw me, drifting somewhere between being male or female, except in the crotch
where evidence clearly showed the latter. My face was slowly gaining features that more
closely resembled my sister than I. And with my pants now at my ankles I could see that
the hair had disappeared from my legs, leaving them smooth and even now they were
changing from strong muscular legs to the lovely curves a dancer would envy.
My hips had already flared out to about 36" if my ill-fitting pants were any indicator
of size. And my stomach was flattening while my waist shrank, proving that the last
male rib had long since gone. Then I came up to my chest. There was no apparent change
there yet. I undid my flannel shirt and saw that my nipples were enlarged like a
teenage girl's just before puberty. It was then that I felt my hair tickle my neck.
I looked again at my reflection, there was now doubt that I was female now, as my hair
crept downwards, stopping just below my shoulders, then the blond came in like a
waterfall, cascading from the crown of my head to the ends of my new tresses.
I heard the sound of a semi approaching. I knew it would be a bad idea to give some
lonely trucker a show like this so I grabbed my pants and ran around to the backside of
the car, as I stepped around my new tiny feet stepped clean out of the shoes I had been
wearing. I took the last few steps barefoot across the rocks. I listened as the semi
sped by. Even after I knew it was gone I stayed seated behind the car, hands across my
chest, wondering what the hell had happened, why me. Was it those damn cigarettes? I
knew it was a bad habit, only now was the first time I had ever even considered
quitting.
Then something else grabbed my attention, my chest, which had been slowly building
suddenly began inflating like a balloon. I held on to them trying to stop them but
somehow enjoying the strange sensation. It seemed as if they weren't going to stop and
I was going to be one beautiful body topped with insane breasts. Just as I screamed NO,
they stopped. I had no idea how big they were, but they looked huge on me. I stood up
then, gathering my pants, and holding them up by hand. The car seemed taller, then I
realized I must have shrunk. I once stood a fair 5' 11"- but now I couldn't have been
much taller than 5'.
I grabbed everything I had dropped on the ground and loaded it into the car. Then I
stepped in and tried to figure out what to do, why had this happened. Then I realized
something, there was no way they were going to let me cross the border. Not without my
own I.D. I'll never be able to get back to the states. I had become not just a woman,
but nobody. I was trapped, in Canada, as a woman. With Very large tits (I did learn
much later that they were merely a D cup, but on a man that's huge) I was only now
truly bothered by their size as I attempted to button up my flannel. I ended up leaving
several buttons undone to accommodate them, but that left far too much cleavage
available to the general public.
Just as I was in pure panic mode, something knocked on the window, and scared the shit
out of me. I screamed, before turning to see the Mountie looking in the car. Somehow I
had missed him pulling up behind me. So I rolled the window down, what else could I do?
"Evening there Miss, I got a report of an abandoned vehicle from a trucker, I was just
coming to check it out. Is everything all right?"
"Oh, oh, uh just fine officer, thanks." I could see him eyeballing me, and it made me
very nervous. And by the way he was looking I don't think he was just looking to see
why I was so bothered.
"Could you step out of the car miss, and take out your license and registration."
He then stepped back to allow me out.
It was then I really panicked, what could I do. Somehow my mind decided sex might work,
and I stepped out of the car and put my hand on my hip. "Is that really necessary
officer, I'm just letting my car cool down." I cooed the end, both intrigued and
disgusted by my own actions.
"I'll need to see your license miss." The officer clearly unbothered by my actions.
Briefly an odd thought flashed through my mind 'am I not sexy enough for him'.
This time I poured it on, as I strutted towards him, as best as I could being barefoot.
"Oh come on officer, it's been a long, long lonely trip, certainly we could help each
other out." Then for some reason I dropped my hold on my jeans. And stood there half
naked, but for my male underwear and ill-fitting shirt.
His expression never changed, "Miss you best pick up your pants, you're coming with
me."
Compulsion seemed to take over, as my male mind fought for control, "Oh I'd love to
'come' with you."
Finally he changed his expression, but rather than being turned on he was pissed.
"That's it, if you don't pick 'em up you aren't taking them with you." He then
approached me with his handcuffs.
Despite my fear and knowing internally, what was going on, what was compulsion was
slowly becoming my normal thought pattern, I seemed to be being taken over by female
thought, and I feared that I was the one that opened that door.
"Ooh handcuffs, how kinky."
He grabbed my arms and yanked them behind me, tightening the cuffs to the point where
it hurt. "Hey what are you doing, oww, that hurt." I couldn't believe how feminine that
sounded. Then he shoved me toward his truck. "Come on I need my pants."
"I told you, if you don't pick them up then they stay right here." He bent me over the
hood of the truck and for a moment I hoped he was going to take me right there. I
nearly licked my lips, by fear and pleasure now reacted together in ways I had never
imagined, I was beautiful, big titted, and apparently kinky. But instead he merely
searched me for weapons, undoing another of my shirt buttons in the process. Now my
nipples were definitely hanging out. After he finished he put me in the back of the
truck by now I was screaming obscenities and being outright nasty towards the officer.
I couldn't believe how badly I wanted to be mounted by a Mountie and all this pent up
lust came out as aggression. I even accused the officer of being gay at one point. Then
after he finished investigating the car, we went to the station.
We arrived at the RCMP office in some small town, whose name I once knew. But my mind
was cluttered; facts faded away, and were slowly replaced with different ones. They
asked about the male I.D. they had found, I claimed it was my brothers for some reason.
They said they would verify they story, and proceeded to take my picture.
It was when they threw me in the cell that things changed. Suddenly I found myself
locked up. There was only one cell and I was sharing it with three other guys. They
looked lustfully at me, as I stood there, with nothing but a flannel shirt and a pair
of Hanes between me and them. I cowered near the door, my entire body trembling atop
long sexy legs and tiny feet, on which I had recently found myself walking nearly tip
toe, I must have needed heels or something.
Suddenly a big hulk of a man stood up and approached me. He got close enough for me to
smell him. He smelt of cigarettes, and that did something to me. Suddenly I desperately
wanted a cigarette. I looked down and saw his pants tented outwards, toward me. It was
then that my compulsion shifted, I stopped trembling and just knew that it wasn't
particularly a cigarette I wanted, but I desperately wanted something in my mouth,
something long.
My eyes met his, and I nearly began drooling as I sank to my knees, and undid the man's
belt. In undoing his pants I revealed a monster like none I had seen before, and I just
as quickly took the thing in. It quenched my desperate hunger like none other. I
moistened my underwear with such pleasure as I sucked his dick. I wouldn't be surprised
if I enjoyed it more than he did. I couldn't understand why but it was just incredible.
I felt funny again as the last remnants of my male personality faded, but it was for
the better, the male side was screaming for me to stop but I just couldn't. I loved it
so much. I looked up at the man's face, his eyes were closed and he moaned with
pleasure. I then looked over at one of the onlookers and motioned for him to come over.
He practically jumped up from the cot and took his position behind me. I stuck my cute
little ass into the air and he inserted his deep into mine.
Then something even more incredible happened. As his dick slowly impaled me I changed
again. I was shrinking and my breasts were growing. I didn't understand but when I
looked over at a mirror I resembled a nineteen year old version of my previous self
with bigger breasts and a larger butt, I even had longer hair. I would have giggled if
my mouth weren't full at the moment.
Soon the man was pumping into me, and I was growing closer to orgasm with every pump.
But before I could go, the man I was sucking began moaning loudly and suddenly he
grabbed my head. I soon found my mouth full of come. And I had no choice but to
swallow. The warm goo oozed down my throat producing a pleasure like no cigarette could
ever have done.
But even as the first man cleaned up the second man was pushing me to the brink of
ecstasy. I found myself yelling, commanding him to pump harder, then suddenly I went
over the edge and he followed closely. We both bathed in the glory of our orgasms, mine
almost certainly better than his, although mine was better than any I had had before as
a man. Suddenly that thought struck me as odd, I've never been a man, what was I
thinking.
As the warm glow of orgasm faded I slowly turned back into my older self. But later
that night as my desire returned I found that I regressed when I was seriously turned
on. I found that out three times that night.
The next morning the Mounties let me go. Turns out some shopkeeper up the road had
found my correct I.D. And they straightened everything out. The Mounties apologized for
the problem but how could I complain that was one hell of a night. I thought to myself,
'Virginia, you sure know how to turn a bad situation into a good time!'
Then I reminded myself I'd have to right a thank you note to the shopkeeper of that
"Gas-R-Us" station for helping me straighten out who I really was.
The end
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