Chapter 13: Traitors in Our Midst

“Well, well, welcome everybody to Wankminster Central Hall. This former Methodist church is famous for have hosted meetings of the suffragette movement in the 1910s, the United Nations General Assembly in the 1940s, and the Fuckers’ Party in the 2030s – making it the perfect venue for today’s event, which is also devoted to breaking new ground in the liberation of mankind and the pursuit of Enlightenment ideals. For today is the final session of ‘Smoke ‘n’ Fuck’ – a brand new competition for young smoking fetish fuckers. I am Fuxmy Gopal,” the young dark-skinned beauty added, as she walked, face to camera, backwards down the central aisle of the auditorium. “And I am fortunate that today’s panel of distinguished judges have been able to take a few minutes out of their busy schedule to talk to us,” she added, as the camera widened its shot to take in the whole of her lithe young body, wrapped in a tight red fishnet gown, through which her pert black nipples poked alluringly. “And here they are: Doctor Jon Taylor from Saint Fartholomew’s Hospital” – a tall wiry man with light brown hair and a very fat cock visible dangling, for ease of access presumably, between the open folds of his white lab coat; “Doctor Danica Clijtst, Lecturer in Fetish Studies at Titty University” – smiling and topless, her black hair tied back out of the way of her large natural breasts, which swayed as she spoke; “and Doctor Zara Qunta from Imperial College London.” Dr Qunta was pretty, dark-skinned, slightly plump, with lovely jiggling breasts half peeping out from under her suit jacket.

“Jon Taylor, if I may begin with you,” continued Fuxmy, “I am sure our viewers today will be interested to know what has spurred your interest in the smoking fetish.”

“Well, Fuxmy, I am of course a medical doctor, and have been excited to witness first-hand the thoroughly positive effects smoking has had on the young people who have taken up the habit during the course of this past year. It is no secret that the youth of the 2020s and ‘30s struggled with levels of anxiety and depression unknown in earlier generations – exacerbated, as we now know, by the gradual banning of smoking in this country. The advent of the Enlightenment in the ‘30s helped immeasurably, of course, as there is nothing better for young bodies and minds than unfettered access to fucking. But I have been delighted to see how so many young people have also been helped by taking up smoking – some even crediting it with curing their depression, mitigating their suicidal thoughts, even getting them off benefits and back into work! Nicotine, in short, is a superb anti-depressant. Combine it with fucking, and you can’t do better!”

“That’s fascinating, Jon,” replied Fuxmy. “Why, then, Danica Clijtst, has there been such a disappointingly low level of smoking take-up in the young since its re-legalisation?”

“That’s a good question, Fuxmy,” replied Danica, “though it is wonderful to see so many beautiful teenage smokers here today!” She gestured around at the gathering numbers of performers, stage crew, journalists and audience members, many of whom were happily smoking, individually or in groups, showing off their fetish styles and techniques to each other, a few of them fucking, sucking cock, or licking pussy at the same time. “And I hope that today’s competition will help young people all over the country to see the sheer beauty and hotness of smoking, and how it is the perfect fetish adjunct to a free-fucking lifestyle!”

“So should all of us take up smoking, then?” asked Fuxmy. “Zara Qunta, you are part of the team who have developed the medical technology which is essential to the re-introduction of smoking to the Enlightened world: what is your opinion?”

“Well, Fuxmy, you are probably the only one of us still young enough to be able to do so,” laughed Zara. “So far, the only Lung-Safe® Medical Modification procedure we have been able to develop which is approved by NICE – that’s the National Institute for Cunt Excellence – is only effective for the under 30s. For the rest of us, smoking continues to cause a handful of minor side-effects – such as a lingering painful death,” Zara grinned wickedly.

“Well, judges, thank you so much for your time. We’ll come back to you later, if that’s all right, but in the meantime –” Fuxmy slid smoothly sideways so the judges disappeared from her screen “let’s go and meet some of the performers!”

The morning sun which streamed in behind Harriet and her party as they entered the porch fell, by delightful happenstance, on two young ladies seated, topless, behind a table marked:

PERFORMERS RECEPTION

They appeared to be enjoying a happy smoky kissing session, blowing thin streams of smoke between pursed lips into each other’s mouths, inhaling each other’s smoke and playing with it with deftly controlled French- and mini-snap-inhales before exhaling it back into each other’s throats, all the while tangling and licking and sucking at each other’s tongues. Their small pert nipples brushed gently against each other: with the morning sunshine on them, they looked like a pair of topless angels cumplaying on the clouds of Heaven, Harriet thought.

As the party from Kunt College entered, the two girls paused their smoke-kissing, turning to exhale a pair of long thick cone exhales towards the new arrivals. “M’ cunt!” called one of them, in a charmingly plebeian Essex drawl, “can I help ya?”

Harriet took a deep drag of her own Marlboro red before introducing herself and her party through a long puffy exhale: “Harriet Danes, from Kunt College, with Michael Didcock and Jane Harris. And this is our coach, Miss Poussée, and her assistant Mister Ahss-Faqr.”

“Hi Harriet, I’m Jaimey,” announced the first girl with a broad smile. She was tall and slender, with long straight red hair, pale freckled skin, eyelids shadowed dusky red, and improbably long eyelash extensions fluttering in the sunshine. “And this is Becky,” she added, gesturing to the other girl, who had short pink hair, pierced nipples and septum, and a large tattoo of a bikini-wearing pirate girl all the way down her right arm, with which she waved good-naturedly. “Becky, can ya take Harriet and her gang to their dressin’ room while I mind the desk?”

“Oh fuck, isn’t that beautiful!” Harriet exclaimed as Becky led them through the main lobby, where she was greeted by the sight of a ceiling-high mural featuring a closeup view of a glistening cunt and pierced clit, a long white lit cigarette dangling at a casual but cheeky angle from its swollen pink lips. Michael agreed, nodding vigorously; Janey chuckled with amusement at both of them.

“That’s me!” Becky announced proudly in her broad Cheshire accent. “Like me pussy then?”

“Fuck yeah!” enthused Harriet. “And the angle of the cigarette: so totally fuck-me!”

“Glad you think so,” replied Becky. “I was arguing with the photographer about it. ‘E wanted it straight, and centred, but I said it would look too aggressive. This way’s more seductive, I think...”

“Yeah, nonchalant smoking cunt – I like the look. And – oh fuck!” Harriet stopped in her tracks, for Becky had just led her through a pair of double doors into the main auditorium, which was, to Harriet’s utter delight, full of people smoking! There were stagehands and ushers, sound engineers and lighting technicians, all going about their business: all young, all beautiful, and all smoking. Harriet beamed. “Oh fuck, I’ve never seen so much smoking before!” she grinned, as she took in the sights. “I’m the only one in my school who smokes. This is totally fucking!”

“Yeah, that’s why I volunteered to ‘elp out on this competition,” explained Becky. “Jaimey and me are the only two in our school that smoke. Everyone just keeps telling us ‘ow much we stink. Frankly, I don’t give a shit – but it’s nice to be somewhere you’re not the only one.”

Harriet was barely listening, as her eyes took in the glorious smoking-and-fucking cornucopia around her. A blonde stage hand was on her knees on the stage, pert tits dangling beneath her, marking out set layouts with masking tape, a damp cork-tipped cigarette butt gripped firmly between her lips, one eye closed against the smoke. Her colleague, pudgy and dark-haired, was dangling a long white between her lips, exhaling through the nose while rolling out electrical cables. At the rear of the auditorium the stage manager was ensconced in his prompt corner, surrounded by cables, control panels, mixing desks, knobs and buttons. He was dangling a Marlboro red while testing out lights, microphones and loudspeakers, while issuing orders to his various assistants. “Annie,” he called out to one, “Here, we need to test the cunt mikes. Clip this on yer pubic hair and rub yerself off for me, will ya?”

“Righto, Gary,” replied the brunette, lifting up her skirt to reveal a very hairy cunt. “Like, just above me clit, or higher up?”

“As close to yer cunt as you can get it without it hurting. I need to pick up all the squelching. Oh and, Susie, we need to test the smoke spots. Will ya stand centre stage and smoke for me until I tell ya to stop?” Gary waited for Susie to take her position and start blowing huge billowing clouds of smoke into the air before flicking his own cigarette butt into a rear corner of the hall and calling out, “Warning, house going dark!” – just as the amplified sound of Annie’s squelching cunt began resonating through the blackness of the auditorium.

As Becky led Harriet and her party into the green room, they were greeted by a rhythmic sound resembling a cross between a duck quacking and a toilet being plunged. It turned out to be coming the throat of a young woman with short but dishevelled black hair and darkly shaded eyelids who was lying on her back on a green couch, her head dangling backwards over the sofa arm while a young man plunged his impressively large cock in and out of her gullet. Even as she exhaled a thick column of white smoke upwards, her eyes were open and bloodshot, snot was dribbling from her nose into her eyes, and splashes of spit were flying from her mouth and dripping down her forehead into her hair. “Victoria,” Becky called out, “say ‘ello to ‘Arriet.”

Victoria paused her skullfuck to look up. “Oh, you’re the last of us four finalists! What sort of show are you putting on? I’m going for the brutal throatfuck angle, as you can see.”