This is my first ever fetish story it is fictitious, and features smoking fetish and transgender content in a gentle way.

Hi I am Gillian, I have been smoking for ten years and wanted to share how I became a smoker and a woman. I grew up as a boy with my Mother (my Father left a few years after I was born and I cannot remember him much) My life was normal growing up with a heavy smoking mother and I progressed through school as a non-smoker and University too, till I was 25. I had never had a regular girl friend they all tended to end up as friends, that sort of thing, a gentle never pushy type really, and I was slight to say the least as a guy, in fact, I was bullied at the local school for always being slightly effeminate and in truth I used to regularly crossdress, yes I was a transvestite but had never thought of becoming a woman. I was a regular attendee at the local gym had a very slender female UK size 8 or on occasion size 10 figure always eat well, and looked after myself quite well in a rather different manner to my mother who used smoking rather than exercise to stay in shape. My mother was a size 12 to 14 and always dressed very well due to owning and running a fashion shop. It had been a constant discussion and pressure from me to try to persuade her to quit and it was after one such long heated debate that it all really began in earnest. I have always hated her smoking, and had tried on so many occasions to dissuade her with all the usual tricks and pleads but each time it fell on deaf ears, my mother was a strong person, strong willed, and she told me unless I tried it don't knock it as once you start you would never wish to stop! I was not convinced and do admit I did have one or two due to peer pressure in my early teens with the as it was just the usual peer pressure thing, I quickly decided that I loathed it even more as I hated i!t taste and feel. Urgh!!!

So, it was one evening when I was in a particularly foul mood, that I lashed out, she had one of her friends over and they were smoking as usual in the lounge and I was studying for an exam at night-school as we were working together in a small clothes shop she has in our local town, so I had a hissy fit, and gave them the usual abuse about passive smoking and lack of respect and understanding.
They were a little annoyed and in truth so was I, as it was out of character for me to be quite so obnoxious. After her friend left, my mother came back in and sat me down, I got a lecture about manners and well, she talked through a deal with me.
Before you can criticise and tell me to quit for good you should really experience being in my shoes as I love being a smoker and always have since my mother started me when I was 17. If you start smoking with me for a period of say six months to a year, let me be a role model for diet clothes and physique, match me cigarette for cigarette in that period, then choose to, I will absolutely quit! the words were a bit of a shock, I was no innocent child here, I knew smoking was very addictive and my mother and I both knew this, but, in a fit of desire to make her quit, I agreed, then immediately panicked! She then made my world collapse by revealing she knew that I had been dressing in some of her clothes and had known for some time especially since I moved back home a couple of years after University finished. I was mortified I always believed it was so well hidden that she would never know. She did, she knew where my stash was hidden even though it was incredibly well done! and she knew I had several wigs make-up and underwear including pantyhose or tights as we call them.
We talked for hours and she said that if I agree why not be more open with my love of dressing and let her dress me and style me, I was asked and cross examined almost about what I was feeling inside and was I attracted to men,, NO!!! Mother! for goodness sake too much information here,,,I already had a longish, hair style she reckoned could be cut and styled initially plus she had a friend that sold natural hair wigs with a lace cap that could easily pass for real hair. It was too much for me, I broke down I felt I was such a let down to her not being the man I thought she saw me as. But, no. She was insistant . Her plans were setting up to create a daughter, or for now my "cousin" to swap homes so to speak, I wasn't going anywhere but it suited the need for my dissapearance for a short time.

She said OK, I will first make a few arrangements then we can discuss this further. I was in a flat spin, what had I got into or what would I get in to? I was equally strong willed and I thought I would easily get through this and make my Mum stop forever. But, I was also equally excited about the prospect of being able to wear and experience real womens wear, as I also earned money part time in the shop, I guess where she saw my attraction to the clothing from?

Nothing was said for a day or so then one afternoon when we finished work one of her friends met up with us and we had a light meal and travelled home together for the evening, nothing unusual in this but, when we arrived, her friend and mum started to talk about the conversation over my starting, I was sat down, and they explained about the deal, I had to change my wardrobe completely to female, then shave fully wear a gorgeous gel filled bra set she gave me and, learn to smoke! match my mother every day for six months, then choose, was that OK? I protested that I hated it the taste, the smell the feel, but they said I should relax, and listen to her friend very carefully.

This is where I can only suspect, as her friend produced a small spiral flat disc with lines converging to the central spot and placed it on the table, it looked like a regular ornament and I was instructed to watch till I saw the outer ring spin.
I suspect I was hypnotised by my mum's friend but neither will admit to this, however I was aware that after I noticed time it was a good hour after I had last looked, but it felt like seconds in truth.

At that point, my mother told me to go shower shave my face properly (not hard I had never had a massive growth) my legs genital area and armpits, chest, and then put on the outfit laid out on her bed, then she would assist me in putting on make up, my first real experience of what it would look like, brush my teeth, and use the strong mouthwash for a good long swish in my mouth, it would make things "easier" I was in a bullish mood and did so, Once I had completed the exercise I was in a lovely skirt and blouse, had sheer hose over my silk panties, a camisole over my very real feeling bra and full make up, like an Air-hostess! Once I was dressed and made-up, I stood looking at the person before me in the mirror, The fact I was used to dressing didn't detract from an inner warth that flooded me I felt so much more "real" I had worn clothes before but tonight it felt that I became more than a guy in a dress I felt absolute joy over my fear and embarrassment, total utter joy, it was sinfully wonderfully incredible. I mean I was used to checking myself out but this time the padding and tucking were just so much more real, the bra was exquisite and fitted me like it held my real breast tissue and forced them up to become the top of my new cleavage in an incredile and lifelike way they jiggled and bounced subtley as I moved it felt very weird and very surreal. After what felt like an eternity I returned to the lounge mouth tingling from the strong mouthwash, she then sat me down commented as did her friend on how totally natural I looked and the way I had moved when walking and sitting, my deportment was almost that of a genetic girl, then I knew it was coming and I was curious and scared as she offered me one of her cigarette's and I was given a light the taste was masked very well but wasn't nearly as horrid as I was anticipating it was almost a relief strangely, it felt so fitting to my looks I wasn't inhaling right away, but after a couple more puff's she said to try a very small inhale, like sipping from a straw, I knew how to do it from years of dissapprovingly watching my mother, I didn't cough, as I expected to but managed to keep it going, till I got the inevitable buzz from the nicotine after a few more, the cigarette was done, and so felt I. Reflecting, the taste was a lot more pleasant that I recalled even though the cigarette's were quite strong (a UK brand called Mayfair Superking's a 100mm cork filter) Mother told me there was no point in learning on mild's as they would not get my body used to her desired brand so I was going to start with the Mayfair and keep on them. I finished my first cigarette, then, we had a glass of white wine and I smelt very smoky and stale but I felt deeply satisfied and pleasant a genuine sense of wellbeing and contentment? something I cannot put my finger on really. The deal was then further explained, that over the next two weeks she would train me and my lungs to accept her average of 20 per day that I would need to smoke to keep up the deal. I didn't feel odd or strange I just felt calm from the cigarette and I was thinking about the next one, which I didn't have to wait too long for, as my mum gave me another about a half hour after my very first real time of smoking along with another glass of wine as girls don't drink Beer she exclaimed. This time, I was able to inhale small amounts and then it was taught to me how to properly smoke, over the following days, to inhale etc exhale to hold it and generally everything a new smoker would learn, also I was bound to secrecy, none of my soon to be new work friends were to be told of the deal or again the deal was broken, so I again reluctantly agreed. By bedtime, my mind was drifting to a third cigarette, and again my mother gave me one, which I lit myself this time as I had to get used to this, didn't I? I lay in bed that night and the smoky taste was still in my mouth and nose even after brushing my teeth and applying my first ever spray of perfume, it I can still recall was Clinique, Happy, and the aroma seemed so enjoyable, I was rock hard below and was compelled to relieve myself and boy did I, I was then left with the most empty and disgusting feeling inside like as though it was wrong to have done that, a normal boyish act but it felt, strange and slightly wrong, now odd.

The next week again passed every morning having to get up an hour or so earlier than I had as a guy would normally have been torture but now? it was like I was lying awake waiting for the alarm butterflies in my stomach, but still I could not work out why I was getting so much contentment but I wasn't arguing I felt better than I had in years, and with my new "habit" by then end of the week I was shown how to match my mother's style of inhale, hold for a few seconds and slow exhale, the result made the smoke look so much thinner than a simple breath in then out, I had got to the stage of about 5 to 8 per day and had no ill effects, at the weekend my mum's friend called in and at lunch I had another lost hour or so??? after the shop closed my mother seemed to take pleasure in pointing out that I had slipped out the back 10 times matching her and had retained full control of my senses, and was I enjoying myself? I had not stopped to think but I wasn't NOT enjoying it? what was going on? As I was now full time in the shop, I was able to enjoy the full range of clothes and not one person saw through my disguise, perhaps they weren't looking that hard I reasoned? I could not put my finger on it but this was not me? not right? I was in a state of surprised shock, I had had a full day smoking with no thoughts to the deal or my loathing, When we left the shop, in the drive home that day, I was given a cigarette in the car, I had never driven and smoked before but I reasoned I had better get used to it, I could still at that point smell myself very smoky and stale after each one but was finding I was getting used to this, but driving even though it was an automatic car, was not an easy step to make. All this time I felt more and more content as Gillian and less and less about me as a boy, I had also been given that first evening at home, two tablets to take each day my mother told me they were to make my skin smoother and more silky, I stupidly, or willingly? accepted them every night, and they did seem to start working as my skin became slightly more translucent, my thinking more emotional? or was I being girly about it, I couldn't fully recall. I was also putting on some weight as I had to quit the gym and adopt her diet, as part of the deal so no training the extra calories went straight to my bottom is seemed, and so this was natural right? The most disturbing change was my thinking looking back, I was no longer just thinking about the deal I was thinking about what I could wear? and how it looked? if I was being checked out by anyone and caught out by anyone! my skin, oh and my gorgeous soft hips,,, and why were my nipples getting so itchy and sore? My mother changed the bra to one with the softest cotton lining and just told me it was iritation and my imagination they were changing shape. I chose to believe this but was so secretly delighted that I was getting tiny soft mounds and the sensitivity they had, one day I was lounging in a cotton top and had to go put on a bra to stop the rubbing driving me crazy.

We got through the next weeks and I was now able to match her inhale depth and style all part of the plan and deal we had, which is to take a long drag till the mouth is full, inhale, hold for a few seconds then exhale, it was a true committed smokers style that's for sure but by now, was feeling totally normal, this then, was the start of the deal. I didn't know it but I was already past the point of no return, I was a victim of their plan, I was becoming an equally committed smoker. After the first month, I was on a pack per day easily and my mum seemed to be smoking more, so naturally I had to also, I had had my hair re-styled as my mother persuaded me to look the part, I always wore make up but again she coaxed me to wear more and look more like her, the glamerous woman, owner of a fashion boutique, that she was, I didn't argue as I loved the attention and free styling, I also noticed that I didn't seem to smell as badly as I thought in fact I quite ignored it feeling more elegant,,,, did I say that? I also started to wear stiletto heels and after a few days could do a quite convincing walk and wear them all day without killing my feet too badly.
Things didn't really change greatly in the second month except that I found myself looking forward to having a cigarette as I "needed" it I was feeling craving's, strong, deep, inescapable longing one's after a period of not smoking, my new friends were aware and those who smoked really welcomed the new member of the crew, the non-smokers, were stunned by my change of heart, I however was unaware of the whole truth, for now.

By the third month I was smoking while alone, out walking, driving, at home, I didn't need the deal held over me to make me "want" to smoke, it was a habit something Gillian did, so to speak, and each few weeks we had dinner with my mothers friend and the sense of time dissapearing with that disc regularly continued, each time I had no recall why but felt more and more like a woman and more desire to be one, plus a real knawing hunger for smoking was growing inside of me, my style was much more accomplished, my inhales were very deep and I noticed that even after I exhaled I had smoke emerge on a second exhale breath sometimes even a third, this made me feel so strange I knew it was because my lungs had become those of a true commited smoker, but I was actually quite delighted when I was doing it because of the attention I was getting, all the guys seem to look at are the smoking girls, are we that "BAD!!!" just now in developing, I had gone from hating to tolerating, to then wanting to smoke, I looked for excuses to have one not that I really had any difficulty, and to be seen as a smoker when I was out and about, this felt so new and strange but I did get so much more of all that attention when I did smoke compared to the times I wasn't, this also set a whole raft of strange feelings running through my soul.

By the fourth month I had inescapable man-boobs, but, as the gel portions of the bra were slowly being diminished I felt more and more contented too, I loved my new assets, my thighs were much fuller too but this was poor diet and lack of exercise surely and I would soon bid them farewell, I felt so sad inside when I was thinking this for some reason, all the moisturising on my body was having a major effect as my skin felt so silky and smooth even my elbows were babysoft as were my knees, I did notice that I had by now long lost the desire to masturbate all desire had gone it felt wrong the wrong type of pleasure, and when I could get his attention, the little guy seemed so much smaller than I was used to? I was shaving far less or so it felt too? This was odd, very odd but still I was washed over by pleasure at my situation, why was I starting to love this? but love it every tiny fragment I was, I dreaded the thought of it ending, I really did.

Month five was more development my body continued to feel more "normal" to me and thinking of guy clothes was becoming a very upsetting affair, my emotions were all over the place, my ability in the shop seemed sharper and people came in just to see me to deal with them as I had a great eye for shade tone and cut I was learning. My hair had been growing in and my mother knew a great stylist who transformed me with a set of amazing extensions they were then coloured to match my hair, by now a soft mix of carmel, ash and platinum that grew my length to just on the top of my boob's, (hmmm I still chuckle calling them that but they were) My look was almost finished and my transformation more so, I wasn't the same guy I walked like a girl eat, lived and was on a more and more often basis thinking like a girl, I was scared of having to quit smoking and return to being "that thing" I was previously, I was managing to shut him out of my thoughts with increasing ease by now.

By the sixth month, time was pressing on and I started to think about the day when we would quit, but, something inside me was starting to feel panic and fear, not the addiction, I could beat that, right? I could stop anytime, right? I was also feeling real shuddering dread over leaving Gillian behind, my figure was by now quite feminine I had noticeable hips, a soft smooth abdomen that my panties completed as my little guy was tiny? the gaff seemed overkill and even sheer silk panties were enoughto tuck things away, where and what had happened to him though? I was also very committed to my female form, this life was "perfect" my old life was intolerable to me now Urgh what a slob of a life, I loved the theatre of dressing every single day, still adored shaving my legs and would frequently go out in a skirt with my legs bare now. I was also, never without a cigarette when out walking as due to the UK smoking ban only outdoors or out the rear of the shop, or car was I able to fulfill my new "need"

My mother was always telling me how good I looked as a girl and how my hair by now a shoulder length carmel and ash blonde bob looked so incredible, I had double piercing in my ears and always wore large gold hoops and a diamond stud set. All in I was way too comfortable as Gillian, I loved the look and feel of my soft curves and I was sure I swung my hips way too much for my own good. I had long forgotten the gym and found I got easily winded if I rushed anywhere but as I had a cigarette in my hand that was the reason right?
Well, finally, it came to the last week and I decided to use a day off I had to test myself, I left early and went to the city shopping, I was in the car and automatically lit a cigarette, what was I doing I screamed into myself??? but, I had to have it I could not stop myself, I needed that like my life depended on it, what had happened to me? I liked it this way all of it.

I stopped got out the car at a park and tried to recount this. I was hooked, I knew I was but more than that I was in turmoil. I now really wanted to be a smoker just like my mum, but I had hated it? I loathed it? I was a non-smoker. I made a decision, I was going to try to quit on plan, or so I thought. I was also addicted to being a female and always thought like a girl and even found myself flirting with guys! what the heck???

On the final night we sat and talked about what I thought and I said I was ready for us both to quit, her friend was coming over again so we had a short conversation. After a while we were talking and again it seemed an hour slipped away unseen?? was I hypnotised again? when I was aware again, I immediately lit a cigarette and this was not a deal one it was essential, like my lungs were screaming for it. I was having a real hard craving, I wanted that cigarette and then the final part of the "deal" was revealed. "Have this one and we will not quit, not now not ever" my mother told me "Gillian will stay your old self will go, I will pay for surgery and treatment for you and you can remain as you are, far happier and content than ever you were. I had to have it, this new life all of it!!!
I didn't care about the deal I had to have it, so I lost my self control I lit up, and screamed YES! I am Gillian I cannot go away just when I am getting started. I am sure I had been given the hypnotic message from day one I was going to get myself hooked, but not just hooked, I was going to become totally irreversibly addicted my becoming a woman was not an anticipated part of the deal on my part but I ached inside to feel every emotion and sense as a girl every one! and I was not going to fight it any longer, that was my thought, that was my situation after almost six months, I had become what I thought I had hated most, a heavy smoker and as a twist a woman, this part I certainly didn't hate I freely admit! mother knew best thats for sure, and as for those pills? well we all now know were progesterone and estrogen, and at six months in, the changes were irreversible for the main part anyway, but I didn't hate the thought any longer I adored it, I loved the prospect, I was excited inside. I had accepted the suggestions and my body had accepted the nicotine and estrogen, too well looking back on it with hindsight.

"Gillian" then lit the first cigarette of the next ten years as a smoker, poured another glass of chardonney, also learned that the next week I had a counselling session with a GRS specialist and was going to discuss my options, my man boobs were now a real a A or small B cup I was a beautiful curvy size 12, and worked every inch of it, I found a pencil skirt and blouse had become almost a weapon, I had been, I think, tricked into my addiction's and if it is then the trick persists today, I have never been told or no admission of any manipulation of my situation has ever been admitted to, but I had gone from a total Anti-smoker guy with no real direction, to a business woman who smoked. I used the University background and developed the business my MBA coming in really useful, we bought the place next door and had it fitted out and started to develop an internet sales side to the cross-dressing fraternity, the additional shop space catered for their more gregarious tastes and gave us space to wrap and dispatch far and wide, I had so much fun growing that small sector that we then went on to open another three branches in the near city and the two adjoining towns, all quite small low key but highly stable business's that form our company today. Mum made me a Director once my name was changed legally, and I found out just how lucritive the business was especially this new found auction site selling way! who would have thought we even had to recruit a buyer to seek out stock it moved so fast online.

As for being a smoker, I freely admit I am a 100% committed addict, but I have "tried" to quit, many times but I keep failing, something inside, deep inside, prevents it from working, patches, gum, champix (in the UK) I try to get to the point, but always something inside me prevents me going away from this addiction. It holds me in a web and I am a puppet, even now.
I did go though surgery 2 years after meeting the GRS specialist and had facial feminisation, breast enhancement and ongoing hormone treatment, The lack of smoking then was HELL!! I had the strongest patches possible but still I missed the oral action. Today, I now look function and live full time as Gillian, no way to do otherwise as I am equipped as a girl! I have a boyfriend I now live with, and an active sex life with him, I think he adores my smoking too as he loves me kissing him just after I smoke and just before we go to bed, he knows fully about me as I was very keen to explain this early on and as to why I could bever have children! and, have grown my hair into a long blunt style that frames my face perfectly, so I am told and bear a striking resemblance to my mother. I have no regrets in any way about who I am now.

I sit here smoking and wondering why I started the way I did and why I adore being so hooked, unable to see a movie in a cinema with out sneaking outside part way, why I have never taken a long flight in ten years, why I adore my small cough in the morning, why I have become so outspoken in smoker rights?

So there we go, is it fact or is it fiction, you decide, all I know is I need to go buy some cigarette's