 
Balletlover - Balletmania
written by The Riddler on 21.04. at 15:02:11 - as answer to: Re: 9 Days in KC Pt. 1 by tightsfanatic >Your story is very interesting. On the one hand, wearing tights is thrilling and that forced thing might be fun. On the other, hand, your mother's logic was flawed. First of all, what was the "crime" in borrowing your sister's tights-really? Like siblings dont take each others clothes! Big fuckin deal! She should have made you pay for the tights as they were not your things. On the one hand she bought into the whole sex stereotyping thing of tights are for girls. I wonder if your sisters had taken your things like a shirt for example-would it have been a crime?! Probably not. If she did not want you to wear tights, she should not have made a big deal about it. Not only that but humiliating your child to that degree is irresponsible and psychologically damaging. If she was so concerned about her image, did she not think walking around with her son in tights would reflect on her mothering skills.>>>Nine Days in Kansas City (Pt.1)>>Ever since I was about 10 or 11 I have loved tights, absolutely and totally in love with them. I love to wear them; I love how they feel next to my skin, and how they hug my body. >>Nine Days In KC>>It started for me when I was in elementary school, about fifth grade. Sally, my older stepsister, was having a dance recital. I didn't really want to attend, but it was one of those compulsory family attendance things. The worst part was that I was missing one of my favorite TV programs, so I was not in a happy mood at the recital.>>I figured the evening for a total waste, and a miserable time, having to sit in a hot crowded auditorium, then I saw the costumes. The first few numbers were totally boring, little kids running around on stage impressing only their parents. Then the older girls started performing; again it was no big thing. I'd seen my sisters in tights and leotards numerous times. I was bored, bored, bored.>>Then the boys came out on stage, yes boys! There were 10 boys of various ages in the dance recital and they were wearing tights, not pants, shorts, cutoffs or whatever, skintight brightly colored nylon tights. Obviously the same tights my sister Sally wore to dance class. I knew you wore tights in dance class but I had never really seen boys, live and in person, wearing tights and that totally fascinated me. They were all up there on the stage wearing shiny purple tights, long sleeve leotards, white western-fringed vest, white scarf, and a white cowboy hat. They were wearing those tights just like they were wearing a pair of jeans. There was even a boy I recognized from my school. I couldn't take my eyes off them. I was fascinated; wondering what it was like to wear tights. The boys appeared several times after that in various groups and in various costumes. The more that I saw the more convinced I became that I wanted a pair of tights to wear.>>When the recital was over, I asked Mom if I could have a pair of tights like the boys in the recital. Sally started laughing as Mom said that boys only wore tights for dance classes. Boys didn't wear tights everyday the way girls did. However she offered to sign me up for dance classes. I thought about it but then I remembered the teasing that Billy Johnson got at school because he took ballet and I decided that I really didn't want to do that just yet. I pestered mother about it for several days but she just ignored me, before she finally lost her temper told me she wasn't going to buy me tights and she didn't want me to ask her again.>>I didn't forget about tights, I would take our Penny's catalog, look at the tights and dream about what it would be like to wear them. I even brought it up on several more occasions but Mom was never receptive to the idea, and my constant asking was making her mad. >>Then one day I was home alone and I sneaked into my stepsister's room and tried on her tights. They were wonderful. I couldn't believe how they felt next to my skin. Even though they were too large for me, the soft silky feeling was beyond compare. I had to get some of my own. I saved up the money to buy some, went to the store, and once even picked out two pair. But, I got so scared and embarrassed waiting at the cash register, imagining that everybody knew I was buying them for myself that I ended up leaving the store before I could buy them. >>Then I remembered the attic. Mom never throws anything away. She saves clothes when we outgrow them and then gives them away to friends and family for their kids. It took some digging but I finally found the right box. Finally there in front of me were all of Sally's old tights, leotards, recital costumes, shoes, and ballet slippers. Sally had been taking dance lessons for nine years and the large box was full. There were so many items that I could not try them all on at once. There were even two unopened packages of tights in the box. Nervous and worried about being caught I grabbed the two packages and several other pairs of tights in different sizes, and carried them back down to my room.>>Carefully following the instructions printed on the package of tights, I put on my second ever pair of tights. It was pure illicit pleasure as I fitted, first one leg, then another, into the nylon tights. I immediately fell in love with how soft and silky the stretch nylon felt on my skin! These tights were the proper size and they felt better then when I had sneaked into Sally's room and tried hers on. I carefully pulled the soft clingy nylon further up my legs until finally I had the elastic waistband firmly and properly in place.>>It took several trips to the attic before I finally selected nine of the best pairs of tights that were my size. I was in stretch nylon heaven. I finally had tights of my own that I could wear whenever I wanted to. All I had to do was keep it a secret from Mom. I spent the rest of the day wearing that pair of white tights and ended up wearing them under my pajama pants and tee shirt to bed. The others I hid in my closet inside an old metal ammo box I had gotten from a friend.>>In sixth grade mother caught me while I was wearing tights in my bedroom. I was laying on my bed reading, with my legs in the air and my pants leg had slipped down revealing the blue tights I was wearing. Mom was very upset about it and made me take them off and give them to her. She talked for some time about how boys don't wear tights and she was very displeased with finding me wearing them. I was scared she would discover the others hidden in my closet so after she left I hid my stash back in the attic and stopped wearing them for some months. Then it got colder, the girls at school started wearing tights to school, and my desire for tights flared up again.>>I continued to wear tights secretly until I got to seventh grade. By then I was wearing them increasingly often under my regular clothes. I was even worked up enough courage to wear them to school under my regular pants. However Sally's old tights were getting too small and were wearing out. I needed larger sized tights, So I turned back to Sally for help, not willingly on her part though. She now taught ballet and she was also into aerobics and all that fitness stuff and had a large selection of tights and leotards. With her teaching she wore them around the house a lot and had many different kinds including the soft cotton, and shiny nylon, you name it she had it. From my exploring I discovered that she had a number of them stored in a box on the top shelf of her closet. It appeared that she was storing the ones she wasn't using but were a size she could still wear. >>I started out just wearing a few pairs from that box when she wasn't around but the more I wore the tights the more I had to wear them, and soon I was constantly raiding her exercise clothing and wearing the tights in secret. I figured she would never miss the few I was borrowing, but I was wrong, very wrong. Worse then that, I became very sloppy in how I hid my tights. I started stuffing them between my bed mattress and box springs rather then hiding them in my ammo box.>>I came home from school one afternoon and discovered the box I kept my tights in was sitting, empty, on my desk. Someone had gotten it down from the shelf in the closet and taken my tights and leotards out of it. I immediately panicked, frantically tearing my closet apart looking for the tights. Of course they weren't there, but when I came out, Danny, my younger sister, was standing in the doorway. One look at her face and I knew she was involved. >>"Danny, you little rat, have you been messing in my room again?" I demanded, threateningly. "Because if you have I swear I'll....">>"You'll what? You lay one finger on me and I tell mom so fast your head will swim. The only person who has been in this stinky old room has been Sally an Mom when they flipped the mattress for you.">>That's when I remembered what was hidden under the mattress and sickeningly realized I was in serious trouble. Sally in my room was horrible, Mom in my room was worse. If Sally or Mom had the tights I was in trouble. She would know where I had gotten them and worse there were several pairs of Sally's new tights in the box. I didn't know what to do when Danny called out. "Sally, I don't think Andy likes the way you cleaned his room." >>Moments later Sally looked into my room and asked "Lose something?" >>"Oh, Ah, Nothing, nothing at all, just some clothes and a book, nothing important." I lied stammered. You didn't find anything when you cleaned the room did you?">>"No, just some really stinky and dirty clothes you had stuffed in your bed and in the closet. What exactly is it you are missing? Were they something special?" She asked smiling, as she and Danny watched me closely to see my reaction. Sally let the question hang there for several hour-long seconds, cruelly letting me twist and squirm about, before she went on. "You know, it's the Damnedest thing, I'm missing some stuff too, a bunch of my best tights and some leotards. Are you missing some too?">>"Ulp, gulp, dah" I sputtered as I couldn't get my mind to work. "Am I missing what?" I finally mumbled >>Danny stifled a giggle as Sally went on "Tights, those skin tight pants like I wear to dance class, you're not missing any tights or leotards are you?" >>I couldn't say a word; I all could do was stand there with my mouth open. As Sally and Danny enjoyed my speechless embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry. That's silly of me, you wouldn't be missing any tights would you? Boys don't wear tights, do they?" Sally asked, then joyfully let another of those horribly long pauses hung there. >>I was totally speechless; this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. It was obvious that both Sally and Danny knew about the tights and leotards and there was nothing I could do about it. Before I could say a word Sally quickly went on with. "Well, don't worry, I'm certain, ABSOLUTELY POSITIVE, that whatever you are missing will turn up, maybe even sooner then you think. I always find the things I am missing, sometimes in the most unlikely places." >>Then Sally left and Danny said, "Oh yes, I almost forgot, Mom wants you in the laundry room," she said as she held her arms over her head like a ballerina and spun around on tiptoes." I was about to find out what "sooner then you think," meant. >>The earlier cold sick feeling of panic returned as soon as I entered the laundry room. There on top a basket was my tights and leotards, freshly laundered and neatly folded. >>Sally had found my tights and thrown them into the laundry room for Mother to find. I nervously waited for the explosion from Mother, but she didn't seem to be interested in discussing them, "Here Andy take this basket of clothes upstairs for me." She said. >>She must think they are Sally's I thought joyfully as I grabbed the indicated basket and started for the door. Only to be stopped with, "Oh, before you go give me those dirty jeans, they need to go in this load of laundry." >>In that instant everything went totally out of control, my stomach dropped to my feet as the cold-hearted fear re-griped me. I wanted to drop the basket and run away, only there wasn't any place to run to. I couldn't take my pants off now; I was still wearing Sally's new shiny purple tights underneath them. I tried to stall, but Mom wasn't taking no for an answer. "What's the problem, you're not embarrassed are you? I've seen you in your underwear before, now stop playing games and take your pants off.">>I was caught; there was no escape, and nothing I could do. I unbuckled my pants and removed them. Now wearing only purple tights and a black tee shirt I waited for Mom's reaction. It was obvious now that she did know about my tights, and I had walked into a trap.>>"My, my, my," she said. "This certainly explains all these tights and leotards in your room. I had Sally help me turn the mattress on your bed today and found them hidden between the mattress and the springs. Sally said most of them were her missing tights that she had been looking for, and that she had caught you several times sneaking around in her room apparently taking her good tights to wear. The others were her old ones from the attic.">>We had a long talk about it and I told her the whole story and confessed to taking the tights from the attic and borrowing Sally's tights and wearing them. Mom stood there for the longest time before she spoke. I could tell she wasn't happy, as she said, "I know you wanted some tights when you were younger, but I thought you were over that. Now it's obvious you're not and are willing to steal them from your sister to have some to wear. You already know I don't want you wearing them, but that hasn't stopped you. Since you are determined to wear tights no matter what, maybe it's time to sign you up for dance lessons with Sally. We'll talk about that later now take these clothes to your room and I'll be in a little later to discuss your punishment for stealing from Sally's room. In the mean time leave those purple tights on.">>I tried to sneak down the hall without anyone seeing me, but no luck. First Danny the family ham saw me. A loud wolf whistle and "OH DAAAWWLING YOU SIMPLY LOOK MAWVELOUS IN PURPLE!!" Followed by "Sally, I just found your missing purple tights!" Sally's door came open and out she came into the hall. As soon as she saw me, she screeched. "You've got them, My best tights, your ruining my best tights you worthless little jerk." Then she ran off to the laundry room calling for Mother, as I walked down the hall to my room. Danny continued to stand in her doorway giggling until I slammed my door. Even with my door closed could still hear Danny snickering and giggling. I could have easily strangled her just then. >>I was almost a nervous wreck by the time Mom came to my room. I knew I was in trouble and I didn't have any idea what Mother was going to do. It seemed like thousands of different things were running through my mind. Mother had warned me several times about messing with things in Sally'' room and then I am caught wearing Sally's tights. Would I get a spanking, would she make me take dance lessons, grounded for weeks maybe even months, would I have to give back the tights to Sally? I didn't know and the suspense was killing me.>>Finally mom came and announced she had a suitable punishment for my behavior. First I would have use my own money to replace the three pairs of Sally's tights and leotards that I had torn and stained so badly she wouldn't wear them any more. The others she wasn't using and I could keep. Second, she would no longer object to my wearing tights, once I proved to her I really wanted to wear them. There were two ways I could do this. First, was sign up and take ballet classes from Sally for at least one year. That included all classes, recitals, performances and attend the summer long dance camp where Sally would be teaching. Second choice was to wear a different pair of the pilfered tights, out in public, during our trip to Kansas City. >>I couldn't believe it; I had been expecting something much worse. I quickly took the second choice, there was no way I was going to take lessons from Sally all winter long then spend the summer with her at dance camp. Not when I could quickly get it over with in a few short days by doing what I was already doing. I was so happy, that mom was not more upset about my wearing tights that I failed to get a full explanation of what she meant by, wear them out in public. Oh I asked how I had to wear them, only to be told I would be wearing them under pants and sport coats. I really should have guessed, but my immediate sense of relief glossed over what the potential problems would be. I should have asked more questions.>>The day we were to leave, I got home to find my suitcases packed and my travel clothes laid out for me on my bed. Light blue dress shirt, dark red tie and navy blue knitted vest. Then I saw my pants, I thought it was a mistake or joke at first, but Mother assured me it wasn't a joke. "Sally showed me a magazine where short shorts and tights are the latest style, dear. I just made two outfits for Sally from a picture in the magazine, and since you will also be wearing your pretty tights on the trip I made some for you to wear.">>I just stood there in horror as I now fully realized how she intended me to wear my tights. Mother had taken my jeans and slacks, and made shorts for me to wear with my tights. She hemmed up the legs until the shorts were almost leg less. My tights would be visible almost to my crotch.>>I tried to talk her out of it but she wouldn't change her mind. "You wanted to wear them, now you get to wear them. You really must be more careful about what you wish for." Worse, she said it was going to be a learning experience. It's always bad when Mother calls something a learning experience, almost as bad as when she tells you it's good for you. I learned years later that Mother was using avoidance conditioning to try to get me to stop wearing tights. She was giving me what I wanted but trying to make it so difficult and embarrassing for me when I wore them that I wouldn't want to wear them again. >>I dressed quickly and looked in the hallway mirror and that's when reality set in. I suddenly realized that I really didn't want to spend the next nine days dressed like this. When I tried to talk to mother about it, but she just said, "Don't worry about it, you really look nice with those tights on, besides it's too late to change your mind now. You'll just have to live with it. That's when I completely lost my nerve and started pleading with her. I didn't want anybody to see me like this and tell everybody at school that I wear tights. I promised to do whatever she wanted. Just don't make me go like this. If any my friends saw me I would never be able to live it down." Mother just took my hand and said "You don't know what you can really do till you try." >>The next few minutes were truly horrible. I didn't want to go outside but Mother made me help Sally load the car. Luckily it was getting dark out, and I hoped no one saw me as I carried the suitcases out to the trunk of the car. Sally who was also wearing shorts and tights, complimented me on my clothing style, "I just saw that look in "Seventeen. I never figured that you would be this, with it, fashion wise." Then she pushed me into the back seat between her and Danny. I was ready to strangle her. As bad as that was the worse was yet to come. >>As we got closer to the airport the more nervous I became. Ideas for escaping my situation were frantically running through my mind, all of them impossible. Four days ago in the safety of my room it had seemed like the best decision. Now sitting in the backseat of our car dressed in white Danskin tights and dark shorts I realized how stupid the decision had been. Even worse was the thought of what it was going to be like when I had to wear the other tights now packed in my suitcase. In the panic over getting dressed I had not checked the suitcase. I only had a general idea what was packed in there for me to wear, but I knew without looking that the hot pink tights and turtleneck leotard were in there as was probably the black and red turtleneck unitards with the back zipper and long sleeves. My mind kept running over and over the decision and my poorly thought out logic, that put me in this situation. >>Mother has always been a firm believer in five things when it comes to punishment. First, let the punishment fit the crime, she's always been a great believer that. Second, let the victim suggest or make the culprit suggest suitable punishments for the misbehavior. That one is devilish, just like now, it makes it very difficult to say it's not your fault when you picked it yourself. Just like when I had carefully put on the white tights and leotard earlier, I had carefully and deliberately gotten myself into the situation that required me to wear them. Stupid, stupid, stupid me!>>Living with the consequences was number four. Mother loves natural consequences, and living with all the consequences, intended and unintended, know matter what. Finally, once the punishment was picked, there was no changing it. You picked it that meant you could live with it and you got all of it. >>Right now I was having a great deal of second thoughts about my decision. I stared at my consequences, the thin white film of nylon tightly covering my legs, and the painful doses of humiliation and embarrassment I now realized were eagerly waiting for me during the next nine days. While part of me didn't want to wear them, another part of me was eager and excited by the thought of wearing them and wearing them out in public. Best of all, with the exception of the last three times, I would be wearing them a long way from anybody I knew. Knowing I had made the best decision didn't stop my heart from racing or keep the cold clammy feeling out of my stomach. Oh jeez, you just can't believe how desperately nervous I was about wearing my tights in public for eight more days, or 192 hours, or 11,520 minutes, no for 691,200 hour long seconds, an eternity.>>My chain of thoughts and nervous daydreams was interrupted when mother turned off the road onto a small service road and pulled up in front of remote parking lot office. "Here we are kids, lets get the bags out of the trunk while I have them park the car," she said. Sally and I had to drag the bags over next to a large van that was going to ferry us to the airline terminal. It seemed like we waited forever by the locked door of the van, while the attendant parked the car. The Christmas rush was on and car after car came up to the lot and unloaded people who were going to the airport. By the time the cars were parked there were a great number of people standing around us waiting. That's when I realized my nervousness had heightened my sensitivity to what was going on around me. I started hearing scraps of conversations, conversations about me, conversations containing words and phrases like tights, white tights, boy in tights, shorts, pantyhose and leotards. I wanted to grab mother's long coat and bundle up and hide in it. That way my white tights would be safely out of sight. My own coat only came below my waist and did nothing to conceal what I was wearing on my legs. My first taste of wearing tights in public and all I could think of was how I wanted it to be over, but it was just getting started. The van was almost completely filled by the time we finally left for the terminal.>>The unloading zone in front of the terminal was worse then the rental agency. Panic time really set in when we reached the airport, and pulled up at the brightly-lit entrance. As the cabby unloaded the trunk and gave the bags to the porter, Mom reached into the car to give me a hand out of the car I panicked. "Oh No, please don't Mother. Don't make me do this, I don't want to do this, please don't make me do it. Oh please, please, please, can't we do something else; I can't go out like this. I never expected it to be like this." I had scooted over in the back seat so that she couldn't reach me from the front door.>>But Sally was still in the van with me. She pushed me over toward the door and Mom grabbed my hand when I got within reach. "The first time is always the hardest Andy," Mother said. "Yes, just give it a little time and you'll be wearing your tights just like all the little girls do and you'll not have any trouble at all." Sally said as Mom dragged me from the van. I know that some of the people around us saw what I was wearing but I was so panicky I really didn't notice.>>What I did notice was that another large van from a hotel that pulled up beside ours. There were now a large number of people on the sidewalk. I was sure that I was the topic of a large number of conversations. There was one couple down at the end of the van where the wife pointed at me and kept whispering to the husband as she stared at me. I kept trying to pull the bottom of my shorts down further to cover my tights as best I could but it didn't help much. I had to suffer through her and several others staring at me while the porter loaded the bags. I knew that a number of people had seen my clothing and I wanted to get inside the terminal.>>Inside the terminal was worst then the car agency. It was brightly lit and crowded with people. Mother must have sensed my hesitation. She whispered to Sally then quietly took one hand and Sally the other, as they helped, no marched me into the terminal. >>My time in the terminal was one continuous series of unpleasant little incidents that seemed uniquely designed for my humiliation and forced enjoyment. It was truly terrible waiting in line to get our tickets. Still feeling very sensitive to what was going on around me I felt my heart pounding as I stood with Mother and Sally waiting in the check in line. I wasn't nervous now, I was terrified, I wanted to run somewhere and hide but with Sally tightly holding my hand there was no place I could run to. I was trapped inside a long and tightly packed line of people and baggage that twisted it's way up to the check in counter. >>It didn't help that the entire time I was in the line I kept hearing snatches of conversations going on around me, "Look at that…. Boy in tights…white tights, where…Oh my gosh...I can't believe…will you look at what he's wearing.">>After we got the tickets I was hoping that the security officers at the X-ray machines would say something, do something, question my mom about my clothing. But they did nothing, absolutely nothing. The police officer standing against the far wall did even less. He wasn't even looking.>>We were early so mother let us stop in the terminal area and have a snack. I just wanted to sit at the table and hide my tights covered legs beneath it. Oh no, can't do that. Danny wants to go to a gift shop, and guess who gets to go with her. Danny took forever before she finally found some treats she wanted and I could get back to the safety of the table.>>Far to quickly we had to head for our gate and the airplane, even though we were still early. Not only was the airport packed but also our gate was at the far end of the terminal. >>My mind was frantically racing, as we walked to our gate. One disjointed idea after another, with only one connecting thread, my tights. I kept telling myself how stupid I had been. I wanted to scream as loudly as I could, but nothing would came out. I wanted to stop and rip the cursed white tights off, right here in the middle of the hall but I couldn't. I wanted to run and hide behind some door marked no admittance, but I couldn't do that either.>>I forced myself to remain, calm, and quiet. Thinking that if I did that fewer people would notice my tights. I desperately wanted to go back in time and change the situation I was in. I had made a bad decision. No matter what I had thought earlier, right now I didn't want to wear tights after all and I desperately wanted to take these tights off as quickly as possible. I would have done anything, promised anything, paid any amount of money, just to have been able to take off one small pair of white tights. >>I didn't want to wear them. But, even wearing them, I would have been happy being anywhere else right then. As I walked down the long, crowded, and brightly-lit corridor, I saw people stop, then turn to watch me. My mind was running rampant trying to imagine what they were thinking about me. I heard people gasp, exclaim something, giggle, or snicker, and that only made it worse. It was first day of school rolled up with a trip to the doctors for shots and blood tests.>>This is taking longer then I thought. I am having to split it into parts. If its too long and uninteresting let me know what you think.>>Seeker Maybe you should have just taken the ballet lessons!!! I grew up with almost the exact same situation. I to began stealing my sisters ballet tights and leotards. I eventually got the nerve to buy lots of my own tights and leotards. I tried to hide them, but my stash was found on several occassions. My parents were NOT understanding. Instead of just letting me enjoy my tights and leotards, or let me take ballet lessons, they threw out all of my tights and leotards, and forced me to see a shrink for a year. Well, I got the last laugh. In the entire time with the shrink, I only talked about the weather!! My tights / ballet / villain obbsession only got stronger. One of the reasons I think I love being a villain is because I was repeatedly told that boys wearing tights is BAD. So I loved being bad!!! I still feel so wicked every time I put on a pair of tights. Hey Mom and Dad, aren't you proud of yourselves????? You helped turn a normal young boy, into an evil villain!!! Answers to this message: |
