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Bad Habits Need Hard Measures

Date: 11/5/2014, Categories: Spanking, Author: ChrissieLecker, Rating: 20, Source: LushStories

care of.” “Problem?” I choked and felt the worry drench my hands with sweat. “I’m sure we’ll get it under control with a little effort, don’t worry.” “I’m sorry!” I told her, my voice trembling. “But I don’t understand…” “The problem is your smoking habit.” She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Yes, you smell of smoke. We can’t have that. We want to give our customers the perfect experience of looks and scents. Burnt tobacco doesn’t go with that at all.” “Oh.” I had never thought about that when I slipped out for the short breaks we were allowed to take and smoked a cigarette. I had found it strange that I was the only one, but given it no second thought. “You need to stop smoking.” She fixed me with a hard look. “You have two weeks.” Oh my god! I didn’t know if I could do that. But I’d try my hardest. I couldn’t lose my job over this! “I will, Joelle. I promise!” Her eyes kept gazing into mine a little longer, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she doubted my sincerity. “Very well. See that you do. I’d hate to lose you, you’ve received nothing but praise from your co-workers up to now.” It was a dismissal, I knew that, and mumbling my thanks and promising once more that I’d quit smoking right away, I retreated. * * * * Becca had gone out, so I went to bed early that evening and managed to quit smoking for all of four hours. By then, I was nervous like hell, and the only thing I could think about was to get another fag. I had thrown away my pack of cigarettes right away, but ... now I found myself walking the mile to the gas station for replenishment. My gut was in a twist, but the first drag soothed my nerves like nothing else, and I smoked two over the short walk back. I stepped into the living room to find Becca spread out on the leather couch and watching a movie, wearing comfy white shorts, a tank top of the same fabric and cute white ankle socks, and I somehow couldn’t suppress the wave of guilt that welled up, feeling like a child caught with the hand in the cookie jar. “Hi, Miranda!” “Ugh, hi! You’re home early.” “I had to visit a friend’s gallery opening, but her abstract art is not something I can warm up to. I left as soon as I could. What have you been up to?” “Oh, I, uhm… I was just out for a short walk.” She sat up and tilted her head, then sniffed the air. “You were out smoking, weren’t you?” “Uhm, yes,” I admitted with blushing cheeks. “Joelle told me.” I gulped. “If you need help, just tell me. I’ve grown to like you, and I want you to stay around.” “Thank you,” I whispered, relieved. “I will. I’ll go back to bed now.” Her eyebrow went slightly upwards when I said “back”, but then she relaxed back into the couch. “Sleep well. And I mean it. Tell me if you need help.” * * * * I tried. I really did, all Saturday long. But I only managed a few hours without before the need to have another smoke got overwhelming, and Becca caught me sneak outside each time. Over dinner, she confronted me. “You’re not coping well.” “No,” I admitted. “I’m ...