From ecstacy to misery

[I had a wonderful night with the blue tights in my bed, but couldn't get over the shameful feelings I felt about it.  I would be the next evening, Friday night, when my parents would go out for a late evening and my sister was over at a friend's house again.  I'd had a play date with a friend that night but his parents had to reschedule it for Saturday.  So, I was all on my own again.  Naturally, tights would resurface to occupy my mind.  It was, after all, a fantastic opportunity to indulge in them once more.]

* * * * * * *

As soon as my parents were out of the house, I raced upstairs to my room and got out the blue tights.  Excitedly, I stripped off my pants, underwear, and socks, then slid on the tights with deft precision and care.  If you didn't know any better, you'd say I was a ballet dancer with how fast I could get on a pair of tights.

After slipping them on, I walked around the house carefree and with ease.  It was so amazing to be able to do this, as any other time with my parents home, I'd be caught in no time and the tights taken away for good.

I sat in the large living room, slouching on the couch with my feet up on the coffee table, just admiring my legs and feet encased in blue nylon.  I was also quite physically excited by it all, but wanted to relish the feeling a while before indulging further.  What else could I do?

It was a chilly December night and it suddenly came to me how I wanted so much to experience wearing these fabulous blue tights outside.  Of course in the daylight it would be unthinkable.  But in the night, I could definitely get away with it.  I put on my winter coat, slipped on some shoes, then walked outside in the nippy air.  It was delightful!

I walked around for a while in the cold night air, which was wonderful, but I wanted something even more.  I wondered what it would be like to walk on the pavement without any shoes, my feet clad only in tights.  So, I took off my shoes.  The ground was very cold, but at the same time the chilly air and cold ground around my feet felt kind of exciting.

Unfortunately, I made the silly mistake of continuing to walk around like this.  I stood on a little patch of ice with my right foot for a few moments.  My foot started getting really cold. When I went to lift my foot up, the tights had become stuck to the ice.  I didn't realize this, until it was too late.  As I slipped my right foot into my shoe, I looked down and noticed a little blue patch on the ice.  Oh no...  No!! I put a hole in the tights.  >:-(  It wasn't more than about the size of a large pea, but it was a hole nevertheless.

I quickly put my other shoe on and scurried back indoors, sat down on the living room couch, and examined the damage.  To me, tights had to cover the feet completely.  A hole in the bottom would be felt and seen anytime I looked at the underside of my feet. Damn it, I ruined them!  At first I thought maybe I could repair them with a little sewing, but looking closer it seemed an impossible task and it would never feel right.  So, in two short days I came to have such a thrill and devastation all at once.  If only I hadn't been so stupid, trying to take a walk with delicate tights material against rough cold pavement.  What was I thinking?!  Stupid, stupid me.

But I couldn't get over my disappointment.  I put the tights away and later took them out again, but putting them on with the obvious hole bothered me too much.  Later on, I would end up taking a scissors to them, stuff the legs in the rag bucket, that would become cleaning rags to be used by the cleaning lady (who frequently used cut up pieces of soft clothing).  I was so mad at myself for this grave mistake... and all I had left were the purple tights that became more ill fitting with every passing month of growth.

[Had I not made that fateful mistake, the blue tights would have probably remained with me for at least a few years, possibly until the point where I'd have enough nerve to buy some of my own.  I was pretty certain I would have been able to keep them a secret.  However... I didn't know it at the time, but it was probably an act of subconscious self-sabotage.  Finding these tights was a delight, and yet one more step into the indulgence of the fetish, something that I also hated.  Later, I would destroy other tights but much more deliberately, in my struggle to rid myself of the fetish.]