Bad Habits

Chapter 1

1 - Punishment I'm in my room waiting for my parents to stop discussing how they are going to punish me this time. Meanwhile, I play with the elastic band of my skirt, which I had to shorten because I've lost a little bit of weight again. Or maybe I've just grown taller, who knows. I look at myself in the mirror and look at my face. With just a little bit of foundation, it looks like I have no blemishes or acne at all, unlike the other girls in my class. I like my body overall, but I wish I had bigger boobs. That way my clothes would look much better, because with an A-cup I can barely wear anything with cleavage, and I'd be even happier with my hard-earned 100lb body. I hear footsteps and I break out of my daydreams. Then, I hear a knock on my door and I say: "Come in". My mom comes in with a grin on her face. "I don't know what to do with you, Brittney... You are almost seventeen years old and you are supposed to act like a grown-up." She says. "But mom, why don't you believe me? I've never even tried one cigarette, I'm telling you that I don't know how it got there, that's the truth!" Mom shakes her head and she tells me that she is very disappointed with me. That she wanted me to tell her the truth. I tell her that I already told her the truth, and she looks at me in the eyes and says: "Look, I didn't want to do this, and I gave you an opportunity, but your dad and I have talked about it, and we are going to do something that a psychologist recommended for this cases..." "What? No way, I'm not going to therapy because of this!" "No, Brittany, you are not going to go to therapy, if you don't want to be a healthy girl, you are going to learn what bad habits do to you the hard way." I'm afraid to know what the hell they have planned this time, but I ask anyways: "What do you mean by that? What are you going to do?" Mom sighs and she hands me a cigarette pack and a lighter. I don't even recognize the brand. "Here you are, your cigarrete pack. I want you to smoke a cigarette now." "What? Is this some kind of test? I'm telling you that this isn't mine." I don't know if my mom is actually expecting me to smoke or if she just wants to see my reaction. She grabs the pack off my hand, opens it, takes one cigarrete out of it and commands me to open my mouth. I don't know what to do, and she commands me to open my mouth in a more serious tone. I open my mouth and she sticks the cigarette between my lips, then she lights it up with the lighter. "Breathe in, come on. You have to breathe in the smoke, swallow it." She commands. I do as she says and I start coughing. She tells me to give it another "puff" and I start coughing again. "Brittany, you don't have to fake your coughs. Just smoke the damn cigarette, I don't have the whole day for this. Do it faster, like a deep breath, and don't stop. Inhale and exhale, fast." I do as she says, and I finish the cigarette in one minute. I feel light-headed, and I go to my bed and lie on it. My mom takes the cigarette pack and the lighter with her and gets out of my room. A few minutes later, when I feel better, I go downstairs, to the kitchen. I take a glass and fill it up with water, because I want to get rid of the disgusting after taste of the cigarette. My dad comes in and takes my glass of water away before I can drink it. "No more water for you." He says. "Hey, what the hell?" I ask him. He hands me a can of coke and a piece of paper which looks like a list. "Drink this instead. Your lifestyle is going to change a little bit. Your mom and I think that you really need to learn what it feels to be a girl with bad habits. We hope that after a few months you'll be ready to resume your life, but until then... Just read the instructions." He says, before he gets out of the kitchen. The paper read: "This is what your life is going to be like for the next few months. 1. You will smoke at least one pack of cigarretes (20 cigarretes) every day. I (your mom) am going to make sure you get all of your nicotin because I'll be there when you smoke. 2. You are going to drink coke, energy drinks or milkshakes. Any other kind of drink is prohibited, and that includes water and alcoholic beverages. We don't want to have a drunk 16-year-old. 3. Fruits and vegetables are banned for you, with the exception of potatoes and tomato sauce. Your meals will consist of fried meats, pastas, breads and sweets. You will eat one big cup of ice cream every day before you go to sleep. 4. You won't get out of the house rather than to go to school. You are not allowed to walk around the house. You will go from your bed to school and from school to your bed. You will watch television or play video games at least 8 hours a day. 5. You will shower two times a week, that is, on Tuesday and Friday. You won't trim, shave or cut your bodyhair, and you will stop using hair and face cleansing products. Just shampoo and body soap. You won't use any deodorant or perfume. You won't brush your teeth. 6. You will do exactly as we say, otherwise you will receive a permanent penalty in an aspect of your daily schedule. We really hope this works. You know we love you. Mom and dad." 2 – First day While I was reading, mom came into the kitchen. I saw her throwing away my toothbrush and many beauty products. "Is this for real? You are crazy" I tell my mom. She takes a cigarette out of the pack and puts it in my mouth. Then, she lights it, and commands me to smoke as fast as possible, because it is almost time to have dinner and I'm nineteen cigarettes behind the schedule. She opens the can of coke and tells me to drink and smoke. Her tone is very serious and she looks extremely authoritarian. I sit down on a chair, and both my dad and mum stand by my sides with their arms crossed. When I'm about to finish the cigarette, mom takes and lights another one. My throat feels sore, and dad opens another can of coke for me. I spend 25 minutes like that until, after cigarrete number six, I tell them that I'm dizzy and that I want to puke. "You have smoked seven cigarretes today, and we can make an exception because it is your first day, but you'll have to get used to this, Brittany" Says my mom. I remain in the chair while my parents make and serve dinner. I see that they are making a salad for them and something else for me. I don't have any appetite, but dad tells me that I have to eat something. Mom serves me a big plate of spaghetti with butter, cheese, tomato sauce and fried bacon. I roll some in my fork and put it in my mouth. I chew it up for a while until I get to swallow. Dad serves me a big glass of coke, rolls some more spaghetti and feeds them to me. Mom looks at me and says: "Ok, just drink that coke and go to sleep. I'll wake you up early tomorrow." I drink the glass in one big gulp and head upstairs, feeling sick. I collapse into my bed and get asleep in a matter of seconds. Mom wakes me up the next morning with a cigarette. Just looking at it makes me feel sick. I look at my watch and the hour reads 05:30. She lights the cigarrete up for me and makes me take long, deep "puffs". I finish the cigarrete in two minutes, and then she brings me a tray with a big glass of chocolate milkshake, a cup filled with gravy and a plate with rice, fried bacon, fried eggs, sausages and fries with mayonaisse, ketchup, mustard and cheese. Mom takes the gravy and drowns all the rice with it until it is empty. She tells me to eat as fast as I can, and so I do. I am a little bit hungry because last night I didn't have a proper meal, so I'm able to eat everything that is in the tray. I get a bloated belly and a stomach ache. Mom lights another cigarrete for me and refills the milkshake cup. Then, she hands me a white pill and tells me to take it with a big gulp of milkshake. I ask her what is the pill for, and she tells me that it is a sleeping pill, and that I have to sleep again until nine o'clock. She says that since it's Sunday, I could just sleep a little bit longer. I take the pill, drink some more milkshake and finish my cigarrete. Fifteen minutes later, I'm sleeping again. Mom wakes me up at 09:21 with the same tray, but this time it is filled with sweets. There are ten thick pancakes, four chocolate doughnuts, four muffins and a big glass of chocolate milkshake. I feel bloated from the early morning breakfast, but mom commands me to eat. I go through the pancakes, which are swimming in syrup and are easy to swallow. I go through the doughnuts with a little help of the milkshake, but when I get to the muffins I'm just too full. "Don't make me feed them to you" Mom says. "Huff... I'm... I'm just too full, I... I can't do it... Ugh..." "If that's what you want..." Mom picks up one muffin, removes it's paper and forces it into my mouth. I have trouble chewing, and mom pushes it deeper with her finger.
She puts my head back with her hand and pours milkshake into my mouth. Then, the muffin glides gracefully along with the milkshake down my throat, and I feel its path towards my stomach. "No, please... No more..." I beg her. Oblivious to my begs and discomfort, she repeats the process of forcing another muffin into my mouth and then pouring milkshake over it. That way, she makes me eat all of the muffins. I breathe heavily, and beads of sweat fall from my forehead to the mattress. I pull my skirt down a bit to make room for my distended and rock-hard belly, and I let out a burp. Mom lights a cigarrete and puts it in my mouth. She looks at me while I smoke, and when I'm done she grabs my computer and puts it in my lap. "Now, play some videogames and have fun, I'll bring you some snacks until it is time to have lunch" She says, before leaving my room. I spend a few minutes rubbing my aching tummy, and mom comes back with a bowl filled with M&M's and a bottle of coke. She grabs a handful of them and commands me to open my mouth. I tell her that I'm going to blow up, and she says that she went to the store to buy them just for me, and that I should stop acting like a child and do as she says.
I open my mouth and she feeds me handful after handful until the bowl is empty. I feel like I'm going to puke, and the pain in my stomach is so hard that I can't even move. Mom caresses my belly, and I get tingles and a relief, as if her caressing helped my stomach to expand. "You have to relax, let the food make it's space. You are not even full yet" She says, putting her left hand behind my neck and putting the bottle of coke closer to my lips. I can't fight back, so I gently caress my stomach with the point of my fingers. She puts the bottle of coke in my lips and commands me to drink. I take tiny sips, but mom wants me to drink faster, so she pulls my head back and squeezes the bottle to force the liquid inside of me. She squeezes it three times until it is empty. Then, she throws the bottle to the floor, lights a cigarrete and puts it in my mouth. I just can't move, so when I finish the cigarette, mom throws it away and I fall into a food coma. The rest of the day was like that, with lunch, three snacks, dinner and a midnight snack, and lots of cigarettes in between. I guess my life now consists in being stuffed like a prize hog the whole day, but I have the hope that mom and dad will reconsider my punishment, because they can't keep myself like that for too long... 3 – First month After a whole month into my punishment, things got even more weird. Mom went overboard with modifying my appearance, and she was smothering butter on my face everyday before I went to bed. I don't know if it was because of my greasy skin, my poor diet or the lack of hygiene, but my face got filled with pimples in no time. She also bought a "teeth gap" separator for my front teeth, which was basically a rubber she put between my front teeth. It hurt as hell, and she kept switching the rubber for a bigger one until I had a very big gap. I looked just stupid. But the worst of all is that she made me wear the prescription glasses she used before she got the eye surgery. I had been wearing them for two weeks straight, and I could say that my sight has gotten really bad, specially because her glasses have a different graduation for each eye and I'm starting to develop a lazy eye. Overall, I looked and felt like shit. I was completely addicted to cigarretes, my underarms, legs and pussy itched because of the hair I was growing, and everyone in school was really freaked out of my changes and disgusted because of my smell. Lucky me, my mom made me drop off before I completed the fifth week of my punishment, and since I wasn't going to get out of the house, I went from two showers a week to one. Staying 24/7 in the same place was harder than one might think; my arms and legs were sore because of the inactivity and I could feel their muscles shrink and weaken. Mom gets into my room and I instantly light a cigarette and start smoking. That is what she has told me to do every time she crosses my door. I see that she has a six-pack of beers on her hand, and she tells me that she has changed her mind about alcoholic beverages. She tells me that she has bought the cheapest beer and that I'll have to drink at least a six-pack a day. She tells me that since it is past 10 pm I'll have to chug all six in a row, and so I do. I go from tipsy to drunk in mere minutes, and she goes out of the room and comes back with a rolling pin and a cutting table. I think to myself what the hell is she going to do with that, while I clumsily light myself a cigarette. She commands me to take my shirt off, and so I do. I'm not wearing a bra, so I'm sitting on my bed with my bulging stomach and my bare and swollen breasts showing the effects of the overeating. I could see red stretch marks on my love handles. She puts the cutting table under my boobs, caresses my face and starts using the rolling pin on them. She starts softly, but as soon as she gets to my nipples, a sting of pain goes through my whole body. I can't move, I'm just in shock. I look at my mom in the eyes, and she puts her look down on my breasts. She starts increasing the strength, going over the whole breast before ending on my erect and hard nipples on each roll. She does that for around 20 minutes, until they are completely purple. She removes the cutting table and goes out of my room, sweating because of the effort. I remain motionless, I do not dare moving a bit or even touching my breasts because of how much they hurt. They are very swollen, and I could feel my heartbeat on them, accompanied with a sting of pain on each beat. Mom comes back to my room, and as I try to light myself a cigarrete as gently as possible, she takes the pack off my hand and gives me a can of coke. I open it, but before I can drink any, she tells me to not just drink it, but to use it as if it is mouthwash for two minutes before swallowing. I do as she says on each gulp, and when I'm finished, she commands me to open my mouth. She inspects my teeth, and she says that I have very bad breath, and that I have some bad looking cavities. She tells me that we'll go to the dentist when they develop a little bit more and there is no solution but to pull the affected teeth out. She looks at my whole body, and then she puts a cigarette in my mouth, smacks one of my swollen breasts and says that she has an idea for tomorrow's breast massage, and that she hopes that they start to sag soon, because a girl like me can't have perfect round boobs. She then smears some butter over my pimply face and tells me to sleep. When I wake up, I examine my breasts, which are still swollen, but are softer and more malleable, and have purple and red spots, specially around the nipples. Mom comes in and I start smoking. She has some kind of rope and a jug of a yellow-greenish liquid. She tells me that it is used frying oil, and she commands me to drink. I take the jug and drink as fast as I can, so to avoid me gagging on the disgusting stuff. When I'm done I burp, and she tells me that I've been a good girl, because it is an easier and more ecologic way to get rid of used oil.Mom shows me the rope she has on her hands, and says: "Remember how I rolled your tits last night? I thought of a better and less exhausting way to compress and stretch your boobs!" She is excited for some reason, like she is having fun with my punishment. She lifts up one of my breasts and goes around it with the rope, until it is completely and tightly bound. It hurts a lot, and the tip of my nipple gets erect and purple colored instantly. Mom does the same with the other breast and lets them like that while she goes to cook my real breakfast. In the meantime, I notice that I'm getting turned on. My panties are soaking wet and I just can't help it but to play with my pussy. I rub myself a little bit over the panties, and I notice that some hairs are visible on the sides. Suddenly, mom gets into the room with a big bowl full of fries with butter and cheese and an olive oil bottle, and catches me with my hands on my pussy. She looks at me and says: "You know, I was saving something for the future, but I think you could use it..." And gets out of the room. I feel incredibly awkward, and my breasts start to hurt more and more. She comes back with a big black thing that she explains is a "cone dildo" . She then tells me that since drinking oil and having my boobs stretched turns me on so much, stretching my pussy could be a good idea. She commands me to get on my knees, then she puts the cone under me and smears it with olive oil. She puts her hands over my shoulders and forces me down. I can't take more than a quarter, and I'm afraid mom could kill me because the lower part of the cone is bigger in diameter than a plate. She forces me down with more strenght, until I reach my maximum around a third in. My bed is soaked in my juices, and then mom commands me to stay still while she feeds me the fries and makes me drink oil. My whole body shakes a lot, and after an hour or so, mom retires the rope off my boobs and lifts me up to remove the cone. She puts and lights a cigarrete in my mouth, and says: "Girl, you have a lot of stretching to do." Before she goes to the kitchen to get more food for me. 4 – Six months in I lay in my bed, wearing just my really tight panties. It's 4 am but I can't sleep. I look at my boobs that, covered in stretchmarks, hang to my sides, with their inverted nipples. They are super sore and have purple spots because mom has been compressing them everyday. She started giving me estrogen trough birth-control pills, but I'm having ten times the recommended dose. The hormones made my whole body break out in even more acne, and my boobs swelled and grew to their current size. They are a 42H now, and pushing towards an I. They sag down to my navel when I stand up. Behind my huge breasts, there is my belly. A big, big belly that transforms into two big rolls when I sit down and that hang over any pant or skirt I put on because mom doesn't allow me to hide my fat. I watch my belly go up and down with my labored breathing, and I caress my speading love handles. I play around with the hairs I've grown, that follow a vertical line from the middle of my chest, going around my deep navel, and join the forest of my pussy. I start playing with my clit in a circular motion. I pick and light a cigarrete and resume my masturbating session. I destroy the cigarrete in less than a minute, and I light another one. I do the same thing with it, and I smoke it as fast as I can. I pick up three cigarretes this time, light them together and smoke them at the same time. I start sweating and my body odor takes over the smell of the cigarretes, which turns me on even more. I insert my whole hand in my pussy, which had been undergoing it's own stretching sessions, and then I throw away the finished cigarettes into the pile of trash that is my room, because I need both hands inside my pussy. I have to put myself in a sit-up-like position