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How I started wear pantyhose: A true story about a
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
From: male pantyhose wearer
Newsgroups: alt.pantyhose
Subject: How I started wearing Pantyhose
Date: 2 Jun 1995 11:53:03 GMT
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
I've read most of the stories about crossdressing, forced feminization,
etc..., and the big problem is that are all pure fiction. I have rarely
read a true, non-embellished essay on how people started their
particular life choices. It is in this light that I present my TRUE
story. It may not be sexy, or full of erotic events, but it is all true.
Preface:
I wear pantyhose almost all the time. I also wear a leotard around the
house, and to aerobics with my girlfriend. I feel very comfortable in
these choices.
How it all began:
When I was 12 or 13, I don't remember exactly, my church had a fund
raiser that involved selling roasted chicken at the doors of the church
on Superbowl Sunday. My parents were very active members in the church,
and as such they had volunteered to stay up the prior Saturday night and
help roast the chickens on the large pit the church had. My scout troop
was affiliated with the church, so many of the scouts also participated.
This particular year it was VERY cold that night, so my family had to
dress warm. I had put on my scout uniform and jacket at home, but when I
went out I was still freezing cold. I returned to my bedroom to try and
find my thermal underwear, but had no luck. ( I think I lost it at a
campout the previous weekend ) My mother was walking down the hall in
her exercise outfit, leotard and tights, and saw me looking for my
thermals. I asked her why she was wearing her aerobics clothes, and
she told me that is what she was wearing for warmth under her normal
clothing. She tried to help me find my thermal underwear, but is was
to no avail. I told her that I did not want to go because it was just
too cold. She told me how important it was to the church, and to the
scouts that I go, but I really did not want to go out in that cold
weather. It was past 9:00pm, so all the stores were closed, so we could
not buy some thermals for me. It was then that she suggested that I wear
one of her aerobics outfits. I protested, but she said it was just like
thermal underwear, except it was nylon instead of wool and cotton. I
continued to resist, but when she said that we all had to make small
sacrifices for the church, I said okay. She brought me one of her long
sleeve leotards, and a pair of tights, and I put them on under my
uniform. I then rushed to the mirror and scanned myself very carefully
to make sure there was no trace of what I was wearing. When I was
satisfied that no-one would be able to tell, we went to the church.
After a period of time I realized that I liked the feeling of the
leotard and tights much better that my thermal underwear. When we got
home the next morning, my mother made the statement, " Now that wasn't
so bad was it?". I did not want to tell her that I liked it, so I just
gave her the clothes back, and responded with, " No, not really."
It remained cold for the next few weeks, and I found myself wanting to
wear the leotard and tights under my clothes, but I couldn't just take a
pair. Then my big break came. I was emptying the wastebaskets in the
house one night and discovered that she had discarded one of her
leotards. It had a small tear at the neck line. I took it, and hid it in
my room. Now all I needed was a pair of tights. I rode my bike to the
store, and cut through the hosiery area, and noticed the price of
tights, and realized that I could not afford a pair. However, I did
notice that the pantyhose were much cheaper, so I decided on them. I
roamed the store for at least an hour, and finally approached the clerk
and told her my mother had sent me over to get her a pair of pantyhose.
I had already sighted the pair I wanted, and had the name prepared. I
told the clerk what "my mother had asked me to get", and she got the for
me. I sheepishly bought them and exited with haste. Once outside the
store, I rode my bike behind the store, and discarded the package, and
put the hose in my pocket, carefully untucking my shirt to hide them.
When I got home, no one was there so I put on the hose and leotard, and
covered them with my regular clothes. I was elated. This practice
continued for about 3 months, then I started feeling really guilty, as
if I was doing something bad, and I forced myself to stop.
Nothing much happened for the next couple of years. I would occasionally
put on a pair of my mothers hose when she was not home, but I soon
outgrew her size. When I turned 18 I got my first apartment, and started
wearing the pantyhose and leotard regularly around the house. I refused
to let anyone see em, because I considered this a very deviant practice,
and just knew that all my friends would reject me, and I would be
destroyed. This went on until I was 30. Then things started to change. I
was dating a girl who was VERY particular about her clothing. I wanted
to arrive early, because my suit was at my parents and I was to change
their. She was totally distraught because she had no jet black
pantyhose, only two pair of off black. She refused to wear them and said
she would not go. I told her that no one would notice, and she insisted
that everyone would. She asked me to go to the Walgreens and get her
some hose. I asked her why we just couldn't stop there and get the hose
and head over to my parents, where she could put them on, but she
refused saying she didn't even want to leave the house in the wrong
hose, especially if it meant she had to show up at my parents in them
and then change. I knew that we would be late, so I sarcastically spat
out, " No one will notice! Hell, I could wear these damn pantyhose (the
off black) into the Walgreens and no one will notice!". She kept
insisting everyone would. I told her to put on the off black, and we
could leave. She agreed, but only with a condition. If I wore the other
pair of off black pantyhose into the Walgreens and no one said a thing
she would continue on to my parents, otherwise we had to drive back to
her place so she could change. I was frustrated and agreed, not even
thinking about what I was doing. I put on the pantyhose, and pulled my
shorts back up over them and we left. We went to the Walgreens, and sure
enough, no one said a thing. Here I was walking around the store in a
pair of black Sheer Energy pantyhose, and buying another pair, and no
one cared. The importance of this did not hit me until much later. I
bought the hose, and we left. While driving to my parents I managed to
get them off, so as not to walk into their house in hose. I eventually
broke up with this girl, and moved on. I still had not yet realized the
significance of that night.
My next girlfriend was about 6 months later. I was living with her, and
had stopped wearing pantyhose for about a year. I had recently taken a
new job that kept me on my feet all day, and my legs were killing me.
She noticed this and suggested that I call the doctor and see if he had
any suggestions such as different shoes, etc. When I called the doctor
and explained the situation to the nurse, she suggested that I try
wearing support pantyhose. They were much cheaper than a doctors visit,
and if they did not work, I was only out a few bucks. I told this to my
girlfriend, but those feeling of guilt, and being labeled as gay came
back. She thought it was a great idea and said I should give it a try. I
decided to ask my best friend what he thought. He said if it worked go
for it, and that there was nothing emasculating about wearing them. I
debated it for a few days, and then one night when she and I were at the
store, she was getting herself some hose and asked, " Well, should I get
an extra pair?" I said okay, and she did. That night I could not sleep.
the thought of wearing pantyhose openly was just to exciting. I had
dreamed of the day I could stop hiding. That morning I showered and put
them on. My girlfriend seemed very uninterested, and just accepted it.
After a few days of wearing them regularly, she noticed that I was
getting red spots on my legs from the hair getting caught in the hose
and being pulled out, and heat of the hose on hairy legs was causing
small red blemishes. She suggested that I shave them I declined,
thinking that would really be going too far. That night she went to take
a bath and called me in to bathe with her, as we had done many times
before. She asked me to shave her legs, again, I had done this before.
As I was shaving hers, she started to lather mine. I knew what she
wanted to do, and I just let her. After all, This was very erotic, and I
could not even think clearly. She shaved my legs, and when we got out of
the tub, I suddenly realized what had happened. It was too late, so I
just let it go. The next morning though I was glad she had done it, the
pantyhose felt 1000% better on my legs. Wow, I had never thought they
could be so comfortable. I continued to keep them shaved from that day
forward. As time progressed, she finally asked if my legs were still
bothering me, and I said no, but that I wanted to continue wearing the
hose because they were so comfortable. She did not mind at all. As
summer approached, I discovered a new problem. It was very obvious when
I wore shorts out, without hose, that my legs were shaved, and I
thought it looked horrible. I expressed this to her, and she just said
to continue wearing the pantyhose. I gave it a try, and we ventured to
safe places together, like to fill the car, or to the grocery store.
Soon I realized that no-one cared. It was the I remembered the incident
at the Walgreens, and felt secure in what I was doing. Soon the
pantyhose became a regular part of my wardrobe. My girlfriend even helps
me coordinate the hose with my clothes. I usually wear suntan hose, but
on occasion I have worn all shades from white to black.
About four months ago she and a few of her friends started aerobics
together, and she asked me to participate. The first time I went I was
wearing hose under my shorts. Her friends already knew, so they did not
care. I did however, because the hose ran and were ruined. The next time
time she bought me some tights, and they were much better. Her friends
seeing me in tights all got together, and pitched in to buy me a
leotard. So the third time I went to class, I went in my shorts, a tee
shirt, and tights, and her fiends gave me a box. I opened it and it was
a new leotard for me. They had bought it as a joke, and a serious sign
that they did not care what I wore. They told me they truly believed
that a leotard was better for aerobics, and that they hoped I would
understand that they were giving to me knowing that they loved me for me
regardless of clothing. I have been wearing it ever since. I now have
five leotards, and four pair of tights, and numerous pantyhose. I can't
track the hose count because my girlfriend and I wear the same size now,
thus we share.
Well, that's it. I hope you enjoy.
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