Date: Tue, 18 Oct 2011 16:42:31 +0100 (BST)
From: Mark Mcd <maninnotts@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Scally Simon Chapter 17

The train pulled into Croydon just as Simon finished rolling up another
joint. He quickly stuffed his papers, cigarettes and cannabis into his
jacket pocket and left the train, heading up the ramp towards the
exit. Even as he approached the barriers he slid a Camel into his mouth and
lit up just before leaving the station, inhaling deeply to satisfy his
cravings and draining the cigarette quickly. As usual, he smoked the
cigarette down as far as he could manage before lighting another from the
burning stub, tossing it into the gutter once he was done. He let the lit
cigarette hang from his pert lips as he checked his phone. It was 3.15, so
plenty of time. He decided to wander around a couple of the sports shops to
see what was on sale and headed towards the town centre.

Sundays were a busy day in the High Street and, as it was a non-schoolday,
there was a large element of scally teens hanging around. Of course, Simon
now felt like one of them, dressed as he was in his black hooded tracksuit,
smoking a cigarette as he walked. He came to JJB Sports; they usually had a
fairly good selection of gear, but not as much as JD Sports. He made for
the tracksuits first, looking at what was on offer; the selection wasn't
great apart from a shiny black Nike tracksuit which was identical to the
one that Steve had been wearing the other day. He looked at the price tag:
£50, so not too expensive. Still, he didn't want to lay out too much money,
so he replaced it on the rack before heading over to the tracksuit
bottoms. There were a couple of Adidas bottoms which immediately caught his
eye: one black, one navy, both with the three white stripes down the
side. What was really eye-catching however was the material: it was very,
very shiny, almost reflecting the light. His cock twitched as he picked up
the black pair from the rack and held it against his own tracksuit bottoms;
they felt great. He took them over to the changing rooms and tried them
on. As soon as he pulled them over his ankles he knew he had to have them;
his cock was as straight as a rod signalling its approval. He put his own
tracksuit bottoms back on and took the new ones to the till.

"OK if I wear these now he asked?"

"Sure. Just let me remove the tags and security device."

He waited whilst the assistant did this and handed over the £30 before
going back into the changing rooms and putting them back on. He admired
himself in the mirror, looking at his arse as the ultra-shiny material
hugged his cheeks.

He packed his old tracksuit bottoms into the shopping bag and walked out of
the changing rooms; the shiny black material swished as he walked, almost
causing his cock to burst as he left the shop. He held his composure and
headed to JD Sports. On entering, he looked for Andy's contact from the
other day, but couldn't see him. He made for the Nike section to see what
tracksuits were on display. There were a couple of hooded tracksuits which
took his fancy, both Max Ltd in different colours and lots of cotton
tracksuits in various shades ranging from black to baby blue to red. All of
them looked really horny. Next he moved to the Adidas section; he spotted
the tracksuit Simon had bought in both black and navy, as well as a couple
of other hooded tracksuits. As with the Nike section there were various
cotton hoodies and tracksuit bottoms in different colours, all with three
stripes down the side. Finally he came across the Lacoste section. He
instantly spotted a tracksuit which almost made him come straight away: it
was mostly white; the bottoms were all white, whereas the top was white
with two fairly wide vertical baby blue stripes on the front on the right
hand side. In addition the inside of the collar was baby blue.  It was
gorgeous; as well as that there was another one with the colour scheme
reversed: all baby blue with white stripes and white colour.  Simon thought
that he was in heaven. However, his excitement quickly faded when he
glanced at the price tags: £110 each. Well above what he could
afford. Disappointed, he checked his phone and saw that he had five minutes
to meet Andy. He had received a message telling him to meet at the station,
so he lit a cigarette and headed in that direction.

As he approached he could see Andy waiting for him, looking every bit the
scally he was. He wore a black flat-brimmed baseball cap with NY on the
front, cocked on his head slightly off-centre. A grey Ecko hoody, covered
with graffiti in blue and red complemented the ghetto look of the cap, and
black Nike tracksuit bottoms adorned his legs, with Max Ltd in red writing
down the left leg. He was smoking a cigarette in his inimitable style
(although Simon was smoking more like him recently).

"Hiya" said Simon, tossing his cigarette butt to the floor and lighting
another immediately. "How's it going?"

"Yeah mate, good. You?"

"Just been looking around, you know."

"New trackie bottoms?"

"Yeah."

"Fucking mint mate. Love them. They look hot on you."

Simon blushed slightly. He noticed a bag down by Andy's feet.

"Your Lacoste trackies are in there. We'll sort it out in a bit."

"Cool."

"Let's go for a smoke."

He led Simon to the park where they sat on a bench just as last time,
except Simon lit a joint at the same time as Andy.

"Getting into your ganja then?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Tell you what, I can get you larger amounts cheaper than smaller
amounts. If you sell three quarters of an ounce then the other quarter is
basically free."

"Yeah? Sounds good."

"Yeah. Sixty quid buys you an ounce. Sell it off at tenner an eigth and
freebies for you."

"Cool. Sounds good."

"I'll even give you an ozzy on tick. Can't say fairer than that!"

With that, Andy reached into a side pocket of his bag and pulled out a
large lump wrapped in cling film. Simon was used to smaller amounts, so it
looked huge to him. He tried to imagine how many joints he could get out of
it. The question was, who to sell it too?  Anyway, he'd figure that out
later. He took the lump, and placed it into the pocket of the tracksuit
bottoms in his JJB Sports bag. He finished the joint he was smoking and lit
up a Camel. As he put his lighter back in his pocket he felt Andy lean over
and grab his balls. He raised an eyebrow at Simon, but said nothing,
instead giving them a squeeze hard enough to almost make him yelp. Simon
remembered Andy's orders to wear the butt plug and harness; they were both
still in his bag as he'd completely forgotten.

"Right let's go." Said Andy, "We're off to Bill's."

Simon remembered his last visit to Bill's with some trepidation, but he had
actually enjoyed it when thinking about it afterwards. He followed Andy's
black nylon-clad arse across the park, trailing smoke from his cigarette
behind him.

Ten minutes and, for Simon, two cigarettes later, they arrived at Bill's
house. Andy pressed the buzzer.

"Yeah?" came the gruff reply.

"Andy mate."

The buzzer sounded and Andy pushed the door open. Bill hadn't tidied the
flat since their last visit; in fact, the living room was even more
cluttered. It was obvious that he occasionally cleared the rubbish from the
floor and tossed the bags into the corridor. Simon wondered what happened
when the corridor became full.

"Ah, you've brought the fucking poof again I see."

"Yeah. He liked getting his arse pounded so much he came back for more."

Simon blushed. Although it was embarrassing being talked about as if he was
worthless, he also found it quite exciting in a perverse sort of way. Andy
rummaged in his bag and produced two packages wrapped in polythene; Simon
could see large Lacoste logos on both bags.

"Here are your trackies mate."

Simon took them and immediately popped a hard-on. He went for the royal
blue one first, and unwrapped it quickly from the polythene, eager to get a
good look at it.

"You can change here." Said Andy.

He unzipped his jacket and removed it. Next he pulled down his tracksuit
bottoms, revealing his erect cock. Bill laughed.

"Fucking gay; look at him!"

"I notice you ignored my instructions." Said Andy, "Hang on a minute."

Andy rummaged in his back a little more and produced a larger butt plug; it
was a bit longer than the existing one, and quite a bit fatter.  He also
pulled out a pair of black leather mitts and a sensory deprivation hood.

"Let's get you dressed up a bit. Sit on that chair." Ordered Andy, pointing
to a dining chair in the middle of the room.

Simon did as he was told. Andy moved behind him and slipped the hood over
Simon's head. It obscured his sight to a certain extent, but he could still
see some light. Andy then threaded the string through the holes in the back
of the hood and adjusted it to make sure that it was in the correct
position before pulling it tight and tying a bow. Simon could see and hear
less than before, but there was still some light coming in through a mouth
hole, just large enough for a cock he noticed. Next Andy tightened the
strap which went over the eyes and around to the back; he pulled it as
tight as possibly could before buckling it. Now Simon could not see a
thing. It was darker even than when he had his eyes closed; in fact, he
couldn't tell anymore whether his eyes were open or closed. Andy pulled
another strap which ran over the top of the hood under the chin and
tightened it. This had the effect of severely hampering Simon's sense of
hearing; he could still hear to an extent, but anything not said in a loud
voice was an unintelligible muffled sound. Finally Andy tightened the neck
strap, taking care to ensure that Simon could still breathe freely.

"OK. Let's get you dressed. Bend over the chair and raise your butt in the
air.."

Simon did so with some difficulty. As he could not see a thing, he had to
try and work out where the chair was from memory and touch. He eventually
managed to bend over the seat and raise his arse. Andy rubbed his fingers
around the hole. After a few seconds, Simon felt a cold liquid being poured
around the area, before Andy's fingers explored again, before pushing into
his anus. After another brief pause, he felt something larger pushing
against his hole, trying to force his arse muscles apart. It felt huge, and
there was some pain as it slowly slid further into his bottom. It was
removed again, another short pause, a bit more liquid, and reinserted, this
time going in further until Simon felt like his arse cheeks must tear
apart. He murmered, but could hear no response from Bill or Andy. Further
went the plug, pushing harder against his sphincter until he felt he could
take the pain no more. Just as he was about to yell he felt it slide the
whole way in, and his arse clenched tight against the base.

"Serves you right for disobeying orders. Time for some punishment. Stand
up" Said Andy in a loud voice.

Simon stood, and felt the larger plug pushing against his prostate and
rubbing his anal passage. His hard cock was standing erect in front of him.

"Lift your left leg."

Simon lifted his left foot and felt a pair of tracksuit bottoms being
slipped over it. He then lifted his right foot, and Andy pulled up the
tracksuit bottoms, but only up to the base of his arse cheeks and then gave
him a good smack on his arse which set Simon twitching. Then Andy lifted
his arm and slid the jacket over it, repeating the action with the other
arm before zipping the jacket up to the neck.

Andy grabbed his hands and pulled them behind his back. First he slipped
the right hand into one of the mitts, strapped it in and attached a small
padlock to the buckle. He repeated this for the left hand, before
padlocking the two mitts together. Simon was now helpless; he couldn't see
a thing and his hearing was severely impaired. His hands were completely
immobilised by the mitts, and he couldn't easily move as his arms were
locked behind his back.

"You look like a proper fucking gimp!" laughed Bill.

Simon could feel himself blushing. He could smell cannabis smoke and was
surprised to feel a joint being pushed into his mouth.

"Smoke" ordered Andy.

Simon did as he was told.

"Harder. I want you to take as much smoke as you can. Don't exhale until I
tell you."

Simon dragged harder than ever and inhaled. The joint was still there. He
dragged again, feeling his lungs fill with the smoke, but still the joint
remained. He took another drag, longer and harder than the previous ones
and felt that his lungs could take no more. He held his breath for what
felt like an age before he heard Andy telling him to exhale. This came as a
relief, but it didn't last very long as he felt the joint being placed into
his mouth again; three more hard drags and he felt dizzy with the smoke.

He was led to the sofa and forced to bend over the arm. Although he
couldn't see anything, he was aware of the tracksuit he was wearing, and it
made him feel very horny. Furthermore, the sensation of having no control
made him feel amazing. He could detect some murmuring in the background,
but they left him alone for what seemed like ten minutes before he smelt
smoke again, although this time it smelled different, somehow more
acrid. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a sharp smack against his
vulnerable arse cheeks.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed.

"Shut up"

There was another crack as whatever was being used to assault his bare arse
made full contact with his skin once again. It still hurt, but Simon bit
his lip and stayed still. Then another crack, harder this time. There was a
brief pause, and another ten cracks against his arse in rapid succession,
each feeling harder than the last. His bottom felt red-raw and was
tingling, but at the same time, his cock was firmly erect, trying to burrow
into the arm of the sofa and twitched violently with each connection.

He was forced to stand up and led somewhere, although he couldn't be sure
where. He was pushed against the wall, and the locks linking his hands
together were removed. His hands were then raised above his shoulders and
padlocked into position. Next, he felt some movement around his ankles,
followed by a tightening sensation as something was clearly fastened to
the. His feet were spread almost to the point of discomfort, and then
padlocked into position. He was now in a cross position. There was a pause
for a few minutes before he felt a joint being pushed into his mouth. He
sucked greedily on the joint until he could take no more, and then inhaled
deeply; before he could exhale, he felt the joint being pushed in
again. This was repeated another five times before he was allowed to
relax. He then felt something cold being spread onto his balls. It was a
strange sensation, but his cock clearly enjoyed it. Then there was a
further feeling of cold metal on his balls accompanied by what seemed like
an occasional swishing of water. This went on for about five minutes before
his balls were dried in a towel and some sort of thick liquid was placed on
them. The were lots of movements going on, but he had no idea what was
happening until he felt a sudden jolt of energy which caused his whole body
to twitch. Learning his lesson from earlier, he managed to suppress any
sounds. There was another stronger jolt which lasted longer and caused him
to react quite violently. Finally, there came a steady current of what he
now realised was electricity streaming through his balls. The current
wasn't as strong as the second jolt, but more powerful than the first, and
came in steady pulses. Each pulse flowed through his nerves and caused his
cock to jump. After a few minutes, he felt a warm feeling moving through
the base of his cock, and realised that if this kept up then he would shoot
his load.

"Don't you fucking dare cum" ordered Andy.

He unzipped Simon's tracksuit top, and raised his t-shirt over his
head. Simon could feel something cold and metallic pressing against his
nipples, and was shocked when he suddenly felt something clamp hard on his
right nipple. He grimaced for a few seconds before the pain subsided. He
then felt a similar sensation on his left nipple as an clamp was attached
to that as well.

He stood there for what seemed like half an hour, trying desperately not to
cum, which was very difficult given the continued pulses of electricity
flowing through his balls and the nipple clamps which, now they were in
place, made his nipples feel almost as sensitive as his cock. Eventually he
felt the electricity stop, and was forced to smoke another spliff in
double-quick time. This came as a blessing as he was gasping for a
cigarette by this point, and he greedily sucked down all of the smoke,
barely wasting a wisp as his lungs fed their cravings.

The joint smoked, he felt the contacts being remove from his balls, and he
relaxed somewhat. However, he soon felt something new being placed around
the top of his ball-sack, It was buckled into place, and then he felt a
weight pulling down on his sack. It did not feel too heavy at first, but
some more weight was added, and it soon felt like his balls were going to
be ripped off. Having said that, the sensation was not unpleasant; the
feeling of his balls being pulled away from the base of his cock caused his
seemingly ever-present hard-on to stiffen even further, and his cock almost
hurt as it pushed out horizontally.

The wrist locks were removed, and his hands allowed to rest against his
side. He hadn't realised just how much cramp had developed in his arms
during this period, and it felt good to be able to move them freely again,
even though he still could not use his hands. His legs were also unlocked
and he was left to stretch for a few minutes before being forced to smoke
another joint. Then he was led to another part of the room.

"Lie back" came the order.

He did as he was told and was conscious of something behind him. As he
leaned back, a pair of hands helped him onto whatever it was that lay
behind him. Eventually he was manoeuvred into the sling and his head lay
against the leather. His ankles were raised and padlocked to the side of
the frame. His wrists were pulled behind him and tied to the frame using
thick rope. Somebody pushed him and he rocked gently in the sling for a few
minutes.

"He looks kinda comfy doesn't he?"

"Yeah. Too comfy."

There was some movement around his nipples, and he felt them being
pulled. However, the clamps weren't being removed as he first thought; in
fact, some rope had been tied to the clamps, with the other end tied to the
frame. The sensation in his nipples multiplied; as he tried to move, his
nipples were pulled harder, so he soon stayed still.

The butt plug was removed sharply, and he then felt a tongue probing his
anus, before what felt like the tip of a cock explored his arse cheeks. The
cock slowly pushed into his waiting hole, relaxed considerably by the butt
plug. He felt it slide in, but was not aware of any pain as the cock fully
entered his hole and slid out again. It quickly pushed back in and then
started thrusting. Simon was immensely turned on by the fact that he had no
idea who was fucking him, but they were good. As the cock pushed in, the
sling rocked which pulled on his nipples, almost causing him to
spontaneously combust with the pleasure. The cock thrust harder and harder,
the balls slapping against his arse as it did so; his prostate was being
stimulated to the max as the owner of the cock grunted with pleasure,
moving faster and faster. Just when it seemed that it couldn't push any
further, he felt the warm sensation of come flowing into his passage, thick
spurts of it accumulating deep inside his arse. With a couple of quick
thrusts the cock extricated itself whereupon there was a brief pause.

The break was brief, because just as he was enjoying the sensation of the
warm come inside his arse, another cock pushed against his cheeks and slid
easily into place. This time it seemed that the owner had no time to lose
as he immediately thrust hard and deep, grabbing Simon's thighs to gain
traction. The cock was bigger and ticked his passage more than the previous
one and he could feel precum trickling from his own cock. The balls slapped
hard against his cheeks, making enough noise even for Simon to hear it
through the hood. His whole body was rocking with the momentum created by
the cock pushing deep and hard into his arse, and his nipples felt like
they were going to be ripped from his body. With a spasm from the owner, he
once again felt warm come flowing into his arse and mingling with that from
the previous cock. This sensation proved too much for Simon as his own cock
responded by firing his spunk over his bare chest, hard and thick as the
cock strap restricted the flow and increased the pressure. With a slurp,
the cock was removed from his passage and he found himself lying limp on
the sling. Once again he felt a joint being forced into his mouth, and he
sucked on the roach, drawing as much smoke as physically possible from the
spliff.

He was removed from the sling and stood up tenderly. He was aware that his
arse felt red-raw, what with the earlier canings and the fuckings he had
taken. He felt the cold tip of a butt plug being pushed into his arse; it
was fairly wide, but the recent fuckings he'd taken had loosened his hole a
little, and it pooped in with a little resistance. Next he felt his cock
being strapped up as before, connected to the base of the plug. He stood
upright and his hands were freed from the mitts. He felt someone messing
around with the hood.

"Keep your eyes closed to start with when I take it off" he heard Andy
telling him.

The hood was removed and, even with his eyes closed they struggled to
adjust to the light. He opened them slightly and let them adjust to the
light. It took a few minutes, but eventually they became used to the light
and he was able to see where he was. It looked like the spare room of
Bill's flat. He saw the sling in the corner, and against the wall two long
pieces of wood arranged in a cross with various hooks for attaching
rope. For the first time he saw that he was wearing the blue tracksuit, and
immediately his cock became erect.

"OK, pack your bag and let's go." Said Andy.

Simon gathered his things and they headed for the door. As soon as he was
outside he lit a cigarette, realising that he was craving one quite
badly. He drained it quickly as they walked towards the station.

"I'm going to run for it. You coming?" Asked Andy.

"Nah, I'll finish this cigarette"

Andy rushed off to catch the train leaving Simon sucking greedily on his
cigarette. Despite smoking it down as far as his fingers could handle the
heat, he still wasn't satisfied and immediately lit another. He pulled as
hard as he possibly could, inhaling all of the smoke and making sure that
none escaped as he removed the cigarette from his mouth. He took another
deep drag as the smoke poured from his nostrils, once again making sure
that none was wasted. He inhaled sharply and held it in his lungs, letting
his hand drop down to his side.  He caught his reflection in the glass of a
shop and only now remembered that he was wearing his new royal blue Lacoste
tracksuit.  Although it was dark, the street lights caught the colours
perfectly, and he felt his cock harden in response. He could see the smoke
rising from his cigarette, flowing up the arm of his jacket and
occasionally passing over the front, depositing a smoky residue wherever it
travelled. Simon finished his cigarette, finally feeling satisfied and
flicked it onto the road. He brought his right arm to his nose and smelt
the aroma of the tobacco smoke which had impregnated the silky material. It
was a smell that he found strangely arousing; most people found the smell
of smoke abhorrent, but Simon positively revelled in it. He checked the
departure board and saw that he had five minutes until the next train; just
time for another cigarette. He decided to see how much smoke he could take
into his lungs; pulling hard on the newly lit cigarette, he kept going for
as long as possible, inhaling immediately before resuming with another
drag. The smoke remained in his lungs as he drew deeply, forcing the next
shot of smoke deep into his lungs and going again. The third drag was just
as big, and he had to inhale a bit deeper before going for a fourth. By
this time his lungs were almost full, but he still managed to finish his
drag and pulled the toxic smoke-laden air into his lungs pushing the
damaging chemicals far into the recesses of his lungs, adding another layer
of sooty tar onto the alveoli which were already feeling delicate from the
heavy smoking of the day so far. He held the smoke for as long as he could
which, given the volume of smoke he had inhaled was not too long. As he
exhaled a much diminished plume of smoke, much of it having been absorbed
in his delicate lung tissue, he took another deep drag on the cigarette,
ensuring that a steady supply of smoke came with each inhalation. He
finished the cigarette with a double-pump and made for the platform. He had
to hurry a little as the train was already pulling in, but made it on board
and sat down. He was aware that even such little exercise as he had just
taken had caused him to become slightly out of breath, his chest rising and
falling quickly as his lungs strove to get enough oxygen into his blood
stream. He recovered fairly quickly however, and coughed sharply causing
some congestion to clear in his chest. He relaxed for the rest of the
journey, pushing his hand down the front of his tracksuit bottoms and
absent-mindedly rubbing his cock softly. The cock strap was making it
harder than ever, but also had the effect of suppressing ejaculation, so he
was able to toy with it for the whole ride.

Eventually, the train pulled into London Bridge. He exited the train
quickly, and lit up a cigarette as soon as he came out onto Tooley
Street. He dragged the smoke deep into his lungs and let it linger; it had
only been about twenty minutes since his last cigarette, but his body was
demanding more smoke, and Simon wasn't about to deny its needs. At this
time on a Sunday the buses ran a little less frequently, so he was not
surprised to see that there was a twenty minute wait before his next
one. He leant against the wall, puffing hard on his cigarette and lighting
another when he finished. He repeated this until the bus hove into sight,
smoking five cigarettes in total. He boarded the bus and ascended the
stairs, feeling his lungs protesting at the effort after so much abuse with
smoke.

The bus ride was about twenty minutes, during which time he managed to roll
two very passable joints. He remembered that he needed to inform Conor that
he had his tracksuit, so he sent a text message. The response was almost
immediate: "Can U meet 2nite?". Simon responded in the affirmative, telling
him to meet him in the park near his home.

He got off the bus and entered the park, lighting one of the spliffs as he
passed through the gates. It was dark, and the park was mostly empty other
than a few people walking their dogs. He headed for a bench near the
bandstand and took a seat, placing his left hand inside his tracksuit
bottoms without even realising. He sat enjoying his joint, being very
careful to not let any burning embers fall onto his tracksuit. As he
finished the joint he lit a cigarette and reflected a little on the day's
events. Once again he'd been initially shocked by his visit to Bill's
apartment, but he had also really enjoyed it. He still felt raw around his
bottoms and could feel the butt plug firmly implanted in his arse. He
realised that he had smoked a lot of cigarettes, and that his body seemed
to be crying out for a constant supply of smoke for the whole afternoon. In
fact, looking at the packet, he had only one cigarette left, having started
the day with two and a half packs; that was close to fifty cigarettes in
one day. He was impressed at the amount he'd smoked, and resolved to make
it to sixty which shouldn't be too difficult at the rate he was going. He
finished his cigarette and pulled the final one from his pack, tossing the
empty container onto the floor.

He was halfway through his cigarette when he saw Conor approaching, looking
around to try and spot Simon. Simon waved and Conor gave a half grin,
heading towards him. Watching him approach, Simon thought that he looked
every bit the archetypal cute teenage scally he so admired. He wore a full
Liverpool tracksuit; black bottoms with three white stripes down each leg
to just below the knee where they met a red flash which extended round to
the back of the leg. The top was mostly red; the right arm was red with
white stripes running down about three-quarters of the length. The red
extended around most of the bottom three-quarters of the jacket, but the
top part was white with the border between the two colours being marked by
a black band. The white extended along the left arm which was complemented
by three red stripes. The Liverpool crest sat proudly on the left chest,
and there was a small Carlsberg logo showing on the collar which Conor had
turned up as the jacket was zipped up to his chin. He had light, almost
blond, hair, but it was cut very short, probably around a grade two. As a
result of his light hair, there was no growth visible on his face even
though he was probably too young to shave yet anyway. Simon found him
amazingly attractive; he had a boyish, almost embarrassed smile and seemed
to be quite self- effacing. He sat down next to Simon.

"Hiya." He said.

"Alright mate. What you been up to?"

"Staying at me old man's tonight."

"Cool."

Simon pulled the other joint out of his pocket and lit up. He smoked a few
drags and noticed Conor watching him.

"Want some?"

"Yeah, why not? I found it a bit weird yesterday, but actually ended up
enjoying it."

Conor gingerly took a few drags on the spliff; not inhaling much with each
breath.

"How long have you been smoking?"

"Only about four months. I smoked a bit now and again with my mates before
that, but it's only been the last few months that I smoke every day. Only
about four a day though. It's so fucking expensive and all! I smoke more
when I'm at my dad's as he smokes and it's easier to hide. When I'm at my
mum's it's more difficult as she'd smell it on me. I have to make sure to
eat lots of mints before I go home!"

Simon grinned. "I remember having to do that. Trouble was, I started
getting less cautious. Used to be I'd stop smoking at least an hour before
getting in. After a while I started having a smoke just before going in
through the door. My mum was on the way out one night as I arrived and
smelled it on me as she kissed me goodbye. That was about eighteen months
ago."

"How long have you been smoking then?"

"I started when I was fourteen, so nearly three years now. Like you I
started on about five a day, but I easily smoke fifteen to twenty a day
now."

"Wow. How do you afford it?"

"Most of my allowance is spent on cigarettes, but my friend Dale has a
cheap supply now. That's why I smoke these unfiltered Camels."

As if to prove the point, Simon pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He took
a few drags and realised that Conor was holding the spliff towards him. He
drained the cigarette in record time and took the spliff.

"Shit, that's some serious smoking!" commented Conor in an admiring
tone. "That's an awesome tracky by the way."

"Yeah, it's my new one. Got it today. Which reminds me..." He rummaged
around in his bag and pulled out the red Lacoste tracksuit which was
exactly the same style as his own, still in its polythene wrapper. "Here
you go."

Conor took it eagerly; he ripped open the wrapper and unfurled the bottoms:
all red. Next he took the jacket and held it up, noticing that it was the
same as Simon's but in red.

"Fucking awesome!" he exclaimed. "Can't believe you got this for sixty
quid. I saw this for a hundred and thirty in the Lacoste shop!"

He unzipped the right pocket in his tracksuit jacket and pulled out three
twenty pound notes, before handing them to Simon who took them and thrust
them into his own tracksuit jacket pocket.

"How many tracksuits you got?" asked Simon.

"About ten now. I just find them really comfortable. Also, all my mates
wear them too; only a couple of them have Lacoste trackies though, so this
is great!"

"Yeah. Need a good selection! Lacoste are the best."

Simon took a final drag on the joint before handing it back to Conor and
reached for another cigarette. A sense of panic gripped him when he
realised that he had none left.

"Shit!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"No fags left."

"You just put one out!"

"Yeah, but I need another."

Conor reached into the pocket of his tracksuit and pulled out a ten pack of
Mayfair. He took two out and handed them to Simon.

"Cheers mate."

Simon took one of the cigarettes and lit it immediately, looking for all
the world like he hadn't smoked a cigarette for several hours. He pulled
hard on the cigarette, concentrating on trying to get as much smoke as
possible, but it was clear that it was not satisfying his demand. He
drained the cigarette in under two minutes without saying a word. In the
meantime, Conor was watching intently, mesmerised by Simon's
performance. When Simon flicked the charred butt of the filter onto the
path he handed the remainder of the spliff to him.

Simon took it eagerly and inhaled sharply, finally getting some relief. He
finished the remainder quickly.

"I guess I'm getting used to the stronger cigarettes; I could hardly taste
anything from that Mayfair!"

As if to prove the point he took the other cigarette given to him by Conor
and snapped the filter; this done, he placed it into his mouth and lit the
end where the filter used to be.

"That's better!" he commented, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as he spoke.

"Damn mate, you're an addict!" laughed Conor.

Simon smiled and reached into his pocket.

"Do you want some blow to take away?"

Conor looked at the large lump that Simon held in his hand.

"I don't have any more cash."

"No problem. I'll give you some this time and if you like it you can buy
some more next time."

"OK."

The lump was fairly soft as it was high quality cannabis, and Simon was
fairly easily able to tear off a piece which would have been enough for
about five joints.

"Here."

Conor took it and smelled. He was obviously pleased by the smell, and put
the lump into his cigarette packet.

"Cheers mate."

"No problem."

"I'd better be getting back."

"Me too. Text me tomorrow."

Conor picked up his tracksuit and set off across the park. As for Simon, he
instinctively reached for another cigarette and again remembered that he
was out.

"Damn. In future I'd better make sure to have three packs on me when I
leave the house!"

He headed over to the shop to buy some more. Remembering that even the
Marlboro Reds hadn't sufficed last time, he bought a pack of rolling
tobacco and some papers before heading back to the park and rolling a
cigarette, making sure to add a lot of tobacco. The result was a fat
cigarette, with the paper just able to be rolled. He lit up and savoured
the pure unfiltered smoke flowing into his lungs and relaxed for a
moment. When he was halfway through he rolled another, and headed slowly
back towards his home. On finishing the first cigarette, he paused at the
top of his street and quickly smoked the second one before ascending the
steps to his home.

As he opened the door, he saw his mother putting on her coat.

"Simon. You look terrible! Stink of smoke too. What have you been up to?"

"Just round at Nick's."

"Does Nick smoke?"

"Yes, but not in the house."

"Quite right. I'm surprised he smokes. Mind you, I don't know why you smoke
either! Anyway, I'm off out to meet your father. Back around 11"

His mother hadn't mentioned his new tracksuit, but he did catch her looking
at him in a slightly funny manner, or was he getting paranoid?  She
buttoned up her coat and exited, leaving Simon in an empty house. He headed
to his bedroom and grabbed a new pack of Camels from the hiding place under
his bed, ripping open the packet. Opening the window, he lit up and leaned
out, greedily absorbing the thick smoke. Next, he rolled a super strong
joint, adding so much cannabis that the tobacco could not be seen under the
brown grainy mixture, and again leaned out of the window to smoke. This
made him feel very stoned, and he slumped on the bed, asleep almost as soon
as he lay down.