This is the third installment of Parental Permission. Start with chapter 01. First and foremost, this is a Smoking Fetish / TG fiction story. It's about Hank, a teenage boy who gets caught smoking by his parents. This is the story of him getting parental permission to do the things he's always wanted to do but didn't have the guts to do on his own. It's a personal adventure story. How would you feel if your parents had told you it was okay to be yourself, even if you didn't know what that was yet? How would you have felt if they had supported you in finding out? How would they have felt? Hank is about to find out. By the way, did I mention this is a smoking fetish / TG fiction story? It is.

Arlene had warned Hank that the first couple weeks or so might feel awkward until the family got used to the idea. That was an understatement as far as Hank was concerned. But she had also told him that his newfound freedom to express his femininity would yield joy and satisfaction beyond his wildest dreams if he would just relax and enjoy it.

The change in lifestyle didn't happen overnight. It came in small daily increments, making it easier for the entire family to adjust to the new situation.

Arlene began Hank's introduction to womanhood by presenting him as a Virginia Slims smoker to his brother and father. She gave him a sophisticated looking brown leather cigarette case to carry them in. Hank was both embarrassed and proud of the case.

Paul Wilson looked the other way whenever his son pulled a cigarette from his pretty leather case and lit it with his pink lighter. Tommy, on the other hand, was impressed by his big brother's new adult status as a smoker. One of the worst moments of the first day came after dinner when his mother criticized him for holding his cigarette like a man.

Hank knew he'd never forget the look on his father's face when his mother encouraged him to be more ladylike when he smoked. He knew it was difficult enough for his father to see him smoking at all, much less doing it so elegantly like his mother.

Of course his mom had explained everything to his father beforehand, but in some ways, that just made Hank feel worse. At least he knows I'm really addicted to these things and I'm not faking it, he thought as he held his long white cigarette aloft in a feminine salute.

I'm wearing panties, he thought. Dad can't see them but he knows I'm wearing them. He looked down at his shoulder. He couldn't see the bra strap through the Polo's dark knit loose fitting fabric, but he could feel it as it dug into his skin. It was his mom's bra. Even though he didn't have anything on his chest to fill the cups, it was still tight. Dad knows I'm wearing it though, because Mom told him.

Arlene Wilson had told her husband everything she knew about their son. She told him it was Hank, not Tommy, who had been getting into her clothes and undergarments. She told him about their son's feminine side and his need to explore it. She told him it wasn't Hanks fault.

Paul Wilson was depressed. He blamed himself. He wondered if there was something he could have done to prevent it. Arlene told him that Hank was born this way and there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it. My son is a sissy, he thought as he watched Hank take a draw from his wife's cigarette.

Arlene Wilson smiled across the the table at Hank as she lit her own cigarette. She wanted to make him feel comfortable and at ease. She'd been a teenage smoker once and remembered how stressful it had been when she told her own parents about her addiction. She also remembered how liberated she felt after getting it over and putting it behind her. She hoped Hank would feel the same way. But he has so much more to deal with than I ever did, she thought.

Her husband had asked her if this meant Hank would start wearing dresses and dating boys. She told him she didn't know. She reminded him that Hank was just as confused and in pain over this as they were.

Paul Wilson was hoping for the best possible outcome. He and his wife had discussed it in detail when they both suspected their youngest son of pilfering her clothes. She had researched the issue in great detail. She told him there was a good chance that Tommy was only a crossdresser. Only a crossdresser, thought Paul? Arlene explained to him that lots of seemingly normal heterosexual men had fetishes for women's clothes. She told him that Tommy might be satisfied with wearing a pair of panties and a bra under his regular clothes. But this wasn't Tommy. It was Hank.

Over the past year, Paul and Arlene had become knowledgeable on different types of fetish and sexuality issues. The most unnerving aspect of all was how tragic things could turn if the issues were ignored or squashed. Paul loved his children and wanted to do right by them, but it was still very difficult.

Paul had laughed when Arlene told him that Hank had a "smoking fetish". He tried to put her mind at ease by explaining that lots of guys are attracted to women that smoke. He reminded her that he himself had always thought she was sexy when she smoked.

Arlene told Paul that in Hank's case, it was much more than being sexually turned on by women that smoke. He looked across the table at Hank and recalled his wife's exact words. "Hank needs to smoke like a woman."

He still held out hope that Hank's urges and needs would be satisfied by allowing him to smoke like a woman rather than dressing and living like one. But he understood there was a legitimate possibility that he would lose a son and gain a daughter.

Arlene convinced him that this summer would be a good time to encourage Hank to explore his femininity, but they needed to do so without making him feel uncomfortable. It was her idea to start him off with a bra and panties underneath his regular clothes. By the end of summer, Paul feared he would see his son wearing dresses and make-up just like his wife.

Later that night, as Hank was preparing for bed, his mother brought him one of her old nightgowns and several more pairs of her older panties.

"I suppose you've probably worn this one before," she said as she handed him the long silky nightgown.

Hank immediately recognized it as one of his favorites and blushed as he took it from her. "Yeah, I used to put it on and smoke in front of your mirror whenever you and Dad went out."

Arlene smiled playfully. "Well now you don't have to wait until we go out."

Hank shook his head. "I can't do that in front of you and Dad. Especially not in front of Tommy."

"Yes you can and you should," said Arlene. "I bet you look very pretty when you're smoking in it. As a matter of fact, I think you'd look even prettier if you let me put some make-up on you and buy you some clothes of your own that fit properly."

Hank blushed again. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

******

The rest of the first week was uneventful and pleasant compared to the first couple days, but the second week started with a bang when Mrs. Dickson, his mother's best friend stopped by to talk with Hank's mom about the Florida vacation they were taking together.

Mrs. Dickson's first name was Barbara. Her husband's name was Sam, but everyone called him "Big Dick". They had a little boy named Peter who was four- a year younger than Tommy. Tommy loved the vacations because he had a friend to pal around with. Hank loved the vacations because he could watch his mom and Mrs. Dickson smoke.

Hank followed Mrs. Dickson into the kitchen and took a seat at the end of the table, close enough to watch both women but not so close as to appear like an intruder.

Even though his parents had given him their permission to smoke openly, he was too paranoid to do it outside the house or in the presence of anyone other than his family. His penis expanded at the thought of Mrs. Dickson seeing him smoke but he had left his cigarette case in the living room for good reason.

He realized there was a good chance that she would see him smoking during their vacation and this excited him greatly. Since they were going with the Dicksons, he would ask his mom if it would be okay if he smoked his Dad's Winstons while they were on their trip. He didn't want the Dicksons to see him smoking his mom's Virginia Slims, especially not with the leather cigarette case.

Several minutes passed before the conversation turned to him. He'd been so mesmerized by Mrs. Dickson's smoking that he forgot he was sitting at the table.

"So Hank, your mom told me that you've joined our little club. Are you excited about it?"

Mrs. Dickson's question caught him off guard. What did she mean by "club"? Was she talking about the "smoker's club" or the "women's club"? Surely his mom didn't tell Mrs. Dickson about him wearing bras and panties.

Hank blushed and cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I don't want you to feel self-conscious about smoking in front of me and Big Dick when we go on vacation," she said as she lit one of her lovely brown Mores.

He was overcome with relief. She was just talking about smoking. Not that that wasn't a big deal, but he had expected it. "Thanks. I'll try not to be," he said.

"I know this isn't your regular brand," said Mrs. Dickson, as she clutched the long More between her teeth and removed another from her red pack, "but would you like to try one?"

Hank looked at his mother and she nodded her approval.

"Thanks," said Hank as he took the cigarette and lighter from Mrs. Dickson and lit it. His penis immediately hardened as the smoke filled his lungs. What a rush! He was smoking Mrs. Dickson's cigarette right in front of her. His head spun and he wondered if he was about to pass out.

"Are you okay," asked Mrs. Dickson? "Is my cigarette too strong for you?"

Hank shook his head violently. "No. This is nice. I like it. Thanks."

Mrs. Dickson smiled at him. "Good. I was worried because you looked a little wobbly. You're probably nervous about smoking in front of me for the first time, aren't you?"

Hank nodded and took another pull from the cigarette.

"It gets easier. You'll see," said Mrs. Dickson. "By the way, I think you look very mature and grown-up as a smoker."

Hank sat up straight and beamed.

"Why don't you show Mrs. Dickson the pretty cigarette case I got for you," said Arlene.

Hank closed his eyes and groaned. When he opened them, his mom and Mrs Dickson were still there.

"Its okay Honey. Mrs. Dickson knows. I told her and she's fine with it. That's why she's here. She wants to help."

"You know," said Mrs. Dickson, "there's no one in Orlando who knows who you are. I bet you'd have a fun time dressing up as a girl and going out in public. You could be a girl the whole time you're there."

"Who else knows," asked Hank?

"Well I did tell Big Dick and little Peter," said Mrs. Dickson. "But I promise you that its okay with them, and its certainly okay with me. I think spending a week with you as a girl would be so much fun. Don't you?"