Introduction

“Capnolognia” (smoking fetishism) is delved into from a personal perspective. Sexual hi-jinks in the form of out-of-control fantasies abound as you are guided—from adolescence to adulthood—through the mind of a fastidious fetishist.

NOTE:

What you are about to read is a self-confessional/self-psychoanalytical short story—an autobiography of sorts—which attempts to explain the development and nature of what I consider to be an unreasonable and inconvenient obsession, yes; but, nevertheless, one that is all-consuming and extremely exciting to me. My intent is to trace its history and causality in my life, and to just “talk it out,” in more words than are probably needed.

So, with the idea in mind of you just listening to me as I talk this thing out, let’s role-play during your reading of this exposé; shall we?

Imagine, if you will, you are a psychoanalyst, my psychoanalyst.

There we are, doctor and patient, nestled within the clinical seclusion of your tastefully decorated, mahogany-paneled office. You’re sitting confidently in the stereotypical overstuffed chair; your legs crossed comfortably, and a pad and pencil held in your hands.

And there I am next to you, appearing nervous and a bit tense; my body reclining on an equally iconic leather couch—legs crossed, hands clasped over my stomach, my head rigidly settled back on the leather pillow as I stare up at the ornate ceiling.

And then we begin...