Dear Readers, Some of you have been bothered by my stories about Female Domination and male submission and have criticized my subject matter. Why anyone would read a story by an author named "hungry4femdom" and think the story would feature a macho protagonist or wouldn't see the feminized male made to submit is beyond me. If the story tags don't give you a clue, then I will, "Go elsewhere." For the rest of you, read on.
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"Don't kiss me! Your breath smells like shit," Sam said, turning her face away from mine, after I tried to kiss her. "I hate your smoking," she hissed at me.
Sam, Samantha, my wife of 10 years, had initially tolerated my smoking, but over the course of the past few years had become more and more angry and judgmental. She rarely kissed me anymore. My smoking had increasingly become a point of conflict between Sam and me, and I was like a cheating spouse where smoking was concerned. Like other couples, she had her complaints about me, but my continued smoking was the final straw.
For years I promised her that I would quit and minimized my use, telling her that I had thrown away all my cigarettes, but these were lies. I would hide packs around the house and in the garage and would manufacture excuses to leave the house, so I could get my fix. Breath mints and cologne couldn't hide the fact of my smoking from Sam. Amid Sam's accusations were my continual denials and lies. A fairly large part of me wanted to stop, but I didn't have the strength.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I really will try to stop," I pled with her, wanting her sympathy.
"I'm done with your promises. They're just lies to me. I'm tired of waiting for you to act, so I've decided to take matters into my own hands," she told me. "I've scheduled appointments with a hypnotherapist, who specializes in smoking cessation. Your first appointment is at 9am tomorrow. So smoke whatever you want tonight because tomorrow will be a new day."
"What do you mean, 'first appointment'?" I asked.
Sam told me that she had consulted with the hypnotherapist and she was told that the optimum treatment schedule was daily sessions for 2 weeks and then once a week for the next 2 months to solidify the progress made and to prevent relapse.
I was trapped but knew that Sam had my best interest and my health at heart. I also appreciated that without some outside help I might never quit, and so I agreed to give it a try.
I arrived at Ms. Denise Radcliff's office at the designated time and began my anti-smoking treatment. After filling out a long questionnaire, Ms. Radcliff escorted me back to her office, which was wood-paneled, well appointed, and softly lit, very professional. I was nervous about the hypnosis, but Ms. Radcliff spoke reassuringly and said that no hypnotist could cause someone do anything they didn't want to do. I really did want to stop smoking and get back on Sam's good side, so I acquiesced.
I sat in a comfortable chair that reclined, and she put on some music or rather some sounds of repetitive chimes and using a crystal suspended from a fine chain proceeded to put me under, just like in the movies.
I awoke, feeling very relaxed and refreshed. It was nearly noon. Almost three hours had passed like a heartbeat. I remembered focusing on the light glancing off the crystal and how the stone seemed to grow in size with my focus and the sounds of the chimes, but I couldn't remember any of the content of the session. Ms. Radcliff assured me that the session went extremely well and we scheduled the remaining daily sessions. She also insisted I buy nicotine patches to help with my withdrawal symptoms.
I went to the drug store and bought the patches and some lemon drops. I don't why I felt I needed the lemon drops, perhaps to help with cravings smoking satisfied, but once a patch was affixed and a drop was in my mouth, I felt a sense of relief and even a mild pleasure. 'This might not be so bad after all,' I thought to myself.
When I arrived home, Sam quizzed me about how the hypnosis went and how I was doing in terms of wanting a cigarette. Surprisingly to me, I didn't feel any desire to smoke. I had no idea that I could experience results so dramatic, so quickly. Sam still didn't want to kiss me, suggesting that it would likely take weeks to get the tobacco taste and its odor out of my body.
The next day, I arrived at Ms. Radcliff's office and repeated the treatment regime. Again I awoke feeling relaxed and refreshed and again had no recollection of the session.
What I did have was a craving for caramel sucker, a lollipop, and when I bought one and placed it in my mouth, I immediately felt relaxed and experienced some mild pleasure. I went back into the store and bought a bag of them. For the life of me I couldn't imagine being without one, and this was strange since I hadn't had one since I was a child, but at the same time the more I sucked the more relaxed I became, and I was totally untroubled by my odd behavior.
Upon returning home, I found that Sam looked especially beautiful and attractive and immediately told her so. Sam responded quite positively to my compliments and embraced me, but still didn't kiss me. Even the missing kiss didn't trouble me. Later, after clearing and cleaning the dinner dishes, something I also rarely did, Sam called me into the living room, saying she had a surprise for me.
Sam told me that she was very proud of my efforts to stop smoking and go to the therapist just on her suggestion alone and said she had a treat for me. She left the room for a few minutes and when she returned, she was wearing the sexiest outfit I had ever seen her wear, a corset with half-cups and stay-up stockings. Her breasts stood out invitingly. She wore a sheer robe over her corset, which hid nothing but heightened her beauty and steaming sexuality.
