CHASTITY FEMINIZATION PRODUCT TESTER
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PANTYHOSE COMMERCIALS, TESTER & DISCLOSURE free porn video
PANTYHOSE COMMERCIALS, TESTER AND DISCLOSURE
Recently I was watching a few pantyhose videos on YouTube when I came across two commercials I remembered from my youth. One was for London Mist nylons and the other for guaranteed not to run pantyhose. The commercials aired in my town several times throughout the day for quite a few months. The commercials brought back memories of playing with hose and re-enacting the commercials.
The London Mist commercial was filmed in black and white. The first time I saw it come on it grabbed my attention right away. An announcer is heard relating how the nylons are like no other and simply won’t run no matter how they are abused. A nail file is run inside the length of the nylon and it does not run or snag. Then a scrub brush is used to scour the nylon and again no snags or runs. Then a “regular” nylon is cut in half across the width of the thigh and then stretched at the cut edge. The “regular” nylon runs like mad. The same is done to the London Mist nylon but it does not run. I was fascinated by the commercial and wanted to get my hands on some London Mist nylons so I could re-enact the commercial but I never came across any.
What I did instead was re-enact the commercial with many of my teacher’s “stolen” pantyhose. The pantyhose already contained a run so after having worn them for a short time I acted out the commercial on the good stocking leg. Most of the time the pantyhose snagged and ran as soon as I raked them with the nail file but not always. The scrub brush never failed to shred them. I didn’t do the “cut” test because I had no doubt that the pantyhose would run when pulled.
A few years later I noticed an ad in the classifieds in my local paper. The ad read that pantyhose product testers were needed to test a new pantyhose and that no professional experience was needed and everyone was encouraged to call. One afternoon I called the number. It was to a hosiery manufacturer in North Carolina. A man answered and I told him I was replying to the ad. At first he was confused and said that they were looking for people to wear test their new pantyhose. He said “Do you understand? You’re a male what would you know about pantyhose?” I told him I did understand and that as a regular wearer of pantyhose I thought having a teenage male wear test no-run pantyhose would be a good idea and that I would be ideal to give the pantyhose a true test of their ability to avoid runs. He was quiet for a moment then said “I agree. I will mail a pair out to you today.” After asking my height and weight, address and telephone number he stated he would call me in three days to see if I had received the pantyhose.
I got the pantyhose and was not impressed with their sheerness but they were soft. I put them on right away and went about wearing them as often as I possibly could. The man from the hosiery mill called and asked if I had received the pantyhose and then asked me a series of questions. Primarily he wanted to know if I was wearing them and for how long at a time. We ended the call with him saying he would give me a call in a week to gather more information.
Once I’d had the pantyhose for a week, he called for an update. I informed him that they had not run or developed any holes or snags. He asked how I wore them, i.e., activities, etc., what I thought of the quality, the feel of the fabric, etc. At that time, the only somewhat negative comment I had was that the pantyhose wrinkled noticeably at the ankles after wearing all day. I added “Some could find that sexy though.” My statement caught him off-guard and he stammered for a moment. To rescue him I added that I thought the pair I had been sent might be a little bit large for me. He stated he may have gotten the size wrong or the wrong size may have been sent. He asked me to grasp the toe of each stocking and gently pull them from my feet to see how much, if any length of stocking would “hang” from my feet. I did as he asked and had nearly the length of half of my foot of stocking dangling from my feet. “Oh they are too large. I’ll send you another pair. Keep wearing that pair though until your new pair arrives and I’ll be in touch in a couple of days.” It suddenly dawned on me how erotic it was to be talking with this man over the telephone about pantyhose. When the second pair arrived I put them on and they fit much better. The man called and asked if I received them and how they fit. He inquired as to whether or not I had gotten a run, hole or snag in the first pair. I told him I had not and he was pleased by that and re-affirmed that they were mine to keep.
The second pair felt better as the stockings clung to my legs much better. Also, they didn’t wrinkle around my ankles at the end of the day. After three days he called again inquiring about the pantyhose. I told him they fit better and were not bagging after being worn all day. He was pleased and asked “May I ask you another question?” I replied “Sure, go ahead.” “How long have you been wearing hosiery?” “Oh, since I was four years old.” He was a bit stunned by my answer and said he would call again in a few days.
On the seventh day the man called again. He asked how the pantyhose were holding up and how frequently I was wearing them. I answered that I was wearing them every day and even stocking footed on the kitchen floor. He asked why that was significant and I told him that we had a ceramic tile floor and it was a “pantyhose killer.” He laughed and said “That’s great! Not that the floor kills your pantyhose but that you are wearing them on the floor and they have not run.” He said he would not call again for another week and requested that I continue to wear the pantyhose as much as I possibly could during that time. I continued wearing them daily even though Dad was still buying pantyhose for me and I had quite a haul remaining from Nick.
After wearing the second pair a total of two weeks the man called. From the beginning I had told him to call me just after I arrived home from school. If Dad discovered I was talking with someone over the phone about pantyhose, whether it was as a pantyhose tester or not I don’t think he would have been comfortable with it. He again asked if the pantyhose had any runs or holes. I told him they did not. He then asked how I wash them. I told him that I hand wash them even though he said they could be machine washed. I seriously doubted they could be put in the washer, though I didn’t say that to him.
On the third week, he called again. He asked if the pantyhose had runs or holes and I replied that they didn’t have any holes or true runs but I noticed something strange. He asked me to explain and I told him that it appeared that some stitches had come undone but there were still stitches above so it wasn’t a true run and there wasn’t a hole. He asked how long the run was. I replied that it was only about two inches but it wasn’t going anywhere. He remarked that some of the lock stitches had finally failed but those around that area were preventing additional failure. “All in all, would you say these pantyhose are the longest lasting you’ve ever worn?” he asked. I told him they were and that I really didn’t consider that little blemish to be a true run. He thanked me for participating in the wear test and asked if I would like to remain in their files for any future hosiery wear tests. Of course I told him I would. I wasn’t particularly fond of the no-run pantyhose because they weren’t as sheer as I like, I love sheer pantyhose.
A year later a new guaranteed not to run pantyhose commercial began airing numerous times a day. One evening Dad and I were watching television in the rec-room when it came on. In the commercial they subject the pantyhose to various forms of torture as they show women constantly getting runs in their “regular” pantyhose. I was surprised when Dad made a comment about the torture tests they were subjecting the pantyhose too. I’d have thought he would watch in silence. He said “I don’t think any pantyhose can hold up to that kind of abuse. If it’s real, maybe you should start wearing them.”
Once the commercial ended I told him I had worn them as a product tester and that I did not want them. Surprised, he asked me to explain. I told him the whole story then he said “And you never got any runs?” “No, they didn’t run or develop holes, but they are not as sheer as other pantyhose either.” “So how did they pay you?” he asked. “I wasn’t paid anything, as a tester you just got to keep the pantyhose.” “Well of course you got to keep them, they don’t want them back. Do you still have them?” I told him I had them hidden somewhere in my room. What Dad said next left me stunned. “Well, the pantyhose survived you wearing them for three weeks but can they really survive those torture tests? I think you should try it.” I answered back “Yeah, I will have to see if it’s true.”
The program was back now and I remained seated and resumed watching it. After a few minutes Dad said “Well, aren’t you going to get them?” Silently, I stared at him then he said again “Why don’t you go and get them. I’m really curious now. I want to see if they are as run proof as they say.” I got up and said I’d be back shortly as I headed for my bedroom. It took me a few minutes to locate the two pair as I wasn’t sure where I had put them. Once I had them I also grabbed a pair of jet black pantyhose from the haul Nick had given me. I went to the bathroom to retrieve a metal nail file, then the kitchen to obtain a dinner fork, mesh pot scourer and my Mom’s sewing basket for a small scissor. I returned to the rec-room with everything and found Dad at the bar with a piece of plywood. He said “Use this plywood for the tests. Do you remember them?” I raised my eyebrows and replied that I did.
The first form of torture we subjected the pantyhose to was the nail file. With the nail file in my hand I placed my hand inside a leg of the no-run pantyhose down to the toe. I had Dad hold the toe area while I slowly raked the file along the inside length of the stocking. The file caused no damage whatsoever so I proceeded to do the test twice more and again there was no damage. I then placed my hand in the stocking again only this time I was holding the small scissor and it was open so that both points raked across the nylon. The scissor did not damage the pantyhose even though the sound of the scissors raking across the fabric made a sound that had us convinced the nylon was ripping.
The next torture test was with a dinner fork. In the commercial they stretched the nylon taut then slowly lowered the stocking onto the tines of the fork so that the tines go through the fabric. I had Dad hold the fork while I performed the test. After the first attempt we were both shocked that the hose had no holes so I tried it twice more and still no holes. Another fork test was to rake the pantyhose with it. I grabbed an old magazine and placed it on the plywood then lay the pantyhose flat while Dad held them in place. I raked the pantyhose several times with the fork. In the commercial the newspaper shredded so I made sure to apply enough pressure for the magazine to do the same. The fork made “scratching” sounds on the nylon as I raked the hose and the magazine shredded. When I finished Dad said “Well if they don’t have runs they’ve got to have some holes.” I slipped my hand inside and there were no runs or holes, not even snags. We were in disbelief so of course I had to do the test twice more and still no damage to the pantyhose.
Next I had Dad hold the stocking flat on the board as I prepared to scour an area with the scouring pad. Before I began Dad said “There is no way these nylons can survive this test.” I ran the pad back and forth over the nylon. I didn’t do it any harder than it was done in the commercial but I also didn’t do it with a light hand. When I finished I held up the hose and put my hand inside. To our amazement there were no runs or holes but there were several minor snags. Dad couldn’t believe his eyes and said “No way! Try it twice more and see if they rip.” I did as he asked and still no holes or runs, only snags. He took the pantyhose from me and shoved his big hand inside the stocking to examine it closer. “These pantyhose are pretty amazing but I see your point about them not being as sheer. Still I think we should move you over to these from now on.” I looked at him with a crestfallen expression and said “But Dad, I love sheer pantyhose.” “Well, you can certainly use up what you have but you are growing and I think it is only a matter of time before you are running several pairs each week. I looked at him in disbelief and before I could say anything he added “Yeah, you’ll be moping around the house in tears whining Daddy my pantyhose keep running and I don’t have any more. With these you will be able to wear a pair for at least a month or so and you won’t bankrupt me over pantyhose. Therefore, we definitely have to get you into these. Not sure of what to say I softly said “I don’t like them though.” Now grinning, Dad said “I know, I know, I’m just fucking with you. I’m not going to change what we buy BUT, please don’t cry in front of me when you get a run.” I replied with a terse “Really, like I would do that.”
Dad finally noticed the black pantyhose and asked “What do you have there?” I answered “I thought I would compare a pair of my sheer pantyhose to the no-run pantyhose.” “What? With a pair I bought you? I don’t think so.” “You didn’t buy these.” Before he had time to say anything about it I began to get ready for the nail file test and asked him to hold the stocking by the toe. I ran the file across the pantyhose and they did not run but I knew if I wanted to be brutal with the file the hose would run. When I finished Dad asked “So… are these also from your donor?” I didn’t make eye contact but answered with a simple “Yes.” I performed the scissor test and one of the sharp points punctured the pantyhose within seconds. “You aren’t going to tell me who it is?” “Nope.” I continued doing the tests and Dad went along with it. The fork ripped and punched holes in the pantyhose. The last test was the scour pad. Dad said “Well, we know they are going to be shredded.” I replied back “Yes, but how bad and how quickly?” As soon as the pad touched the nylons they were snagged then almost simultaneously they shredded.
I balled up the destroyed black pantyhose and placed them in the bottom of the trash can in the laundry room. When I returned Dad said “Well, that was a bit of a waste. You knew they couldn’t possibly hold up. Don’t do that with pantyhose I buy you.” I slipped and replied to Dad “I have quite a few of those pantyhose so I won’t miss one.” Dad looked at me quizzically then asked “What is a quite a few?” I told him I had a couple dozen pair even though I still had hundreds of pairs. “What the hell? Who is this donor who gave you a couple dozen pairs of pantyhose? Who? I want you to tell me.” I balled up the no-run pantyhose and headed for the laundry room and placed them in the bottom of the trash can. When I returned Dad asked “You’re throwing them away?” “Yeah, they aren’t what I like so why keep them?” Then Dad said “Don’t go anywhere. I’m still waiting for an answer.”
He sat on the sofa as I stood in the center of the room contemplating my response. Finally I said “If I told you it would cause an international incident.” Dad chuckled then replied “I’m willing to take the risk. I want to know. You’re not in any trouble but I think I have a right to know who gave my son dozens of pairs of pantyhose and you are going to tell me.” I continued to stand in silence for a moment then asked “If I tell you are you going to confront this person?” Dad looked surprised by my question and thought for a moment before answering. “Well, you got me there. No, I guess not.” “That’s good because I would die if you did.” I began to turn and leave when Dad called my name and firmly said “Okay, enough bull shitting me. Now you’ve got me a little worried because you won’t tell me. You’d better start talking or I’m going up to your room and turning it inside out. Every pair of pantyhose I find I’m going to rip, even the Hanes, so I think you’d better start doing some fast talking.”
Suddenly I was overwhelmed with tremendous anxiety. I didn’t want to lose my pantyhose collection but I also didn’t want to rat on Nick. As I contemplated my answer time slipped away and Dad rose from the sofa and started up the stairs. I quickly came to my senses and began chasing behind him. I was only steps behind Dad. He went into my room and looked at me standing in the doorway then said “Last chance and I’m not joking around damn it.” He opened my closet and began pulling shoe boxes from the shelf. He opened a box and it was full of pantyhose from Nick. He dumped them on the bed then scooped up several pair with his right hand. The legs were dangling freely and he reached for them with his left hand. My heart sank. I knew he was serious now. He wrapped the legs around his left hand then stretched the length of them tight as he said “Damn it! Do you really want all of your pantyhose torn up? I won’t be buying you any more either. For that matter I’ll go the way of your mother. You bring any in this house and I’ll take them away from you and make you watch me rip them before I throw them out.”
My anxiety was so great now that I needed to piss terribly. I felt as though I would piss myself if I dared exhale. “You promise you won’t go after him!” I shrieked. “What?! Him?! A man has been giving you pantyhose? Oh shit!” I quickly stammered “It’s not like that. He caught me with pantyhose and asked why I had them and I told him I like them. He asked what I meant by like them and when I told him I like to wear them he thought it was interesting. So he gave me some.” At this point Dad had dropped the pantyhose onto the bed. “Okay, so where did he get them? Is he buying them for you?” I could no longer take the grilling and just blurted “It’s Nick.” Dad looked at me in disbelief then asked “Nick? Nick gave you pantyhose? I don’t understand.” I told Dad how Maria had a trunk containing pantyhose in the basement and I discovered the pantyhose inside and Nick caught me and instead of being offended that I was going to take some he offered them to me because he wanted the trunk gone and Maria was dragging her feet about getting it out.
Dad stood silent for a few moments then said “So, you were caught trying to steal pantyhose from a family friend?” I softly answered “Yes, but Nick didn’t care. He said I could have them because Maria didn’t even wear them.” “I don’t give a shit if she was wearing them or not. You were attempting to steal pantyhose and I’ve told you over and over not to do it. I’m really pissed and disappointed.” Quickly I shot back, “He gave them to me quite a while ago. Well before we made our agreement. They didn’t even fit me when he gave them to me.” “What do you mean by that?” “I was a lot younger when he gave them to me and he made me promise not to reveal that he gave them to me because he said he knew you and Mom would not like it.” “You know what, it isn’t so much that he gave you pantyhose. I guess I can accept that. What I have a problem with is that you were going to steal them until he caught you.”
I stammered I have to pee… BAD! “Go ahead, go!” he said. I went to the bathroom and peed and pondered what was coming next when I re-entered my room. I walked in and found Dad sitting on the other bed. He said “I’m not going to say anything to Nick. I’m sure if I did he would be incredibly embarrassed as would I and really what am I going to say? Why did you give my son pantyhose or I don’t approve of you giving my son pantyhose? The topic isn’t exactly something two men discuss on a daily basis. Okay then, it’s out in the open now. Did you take any from Maria after Nick gave you some?” he asked. “No, I didn’t take pantyhose from her. Nick gave them to me and I haven’t taken any in a very long time from anyone.”
Dad breathed in deeply several times and remained silent. Finally, he spoke “I don’t approve of what Nick did, meaning taking pantyhose from Maria but that is between him and Maria. As for him giving them to you I’m still not sure what I think about that. He isn’t all that much older than you but I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Nick gave you pantyhose.” In an attempt to get Dad to stop thinking too much I said “Well, Nick thought it was funny that he had taken them and angered Maria but he thought it funnier that I was wearing them. He had hoped I would go through them quickly so there would be no evidence. He found it amusing to know I was wearing them and used them up which would have infuriated Maria if she had known.”
Dad said “Okay, you can keep what he gave you and your pact with Nick will remain a secret. Fuck! I’ve got a damned headache.” Dad scooped up the pantyhose from the bed and dropped them in the shoe box then returned it to the shelf in the closet. I was worn out now and told him I was going to go to bed.
Dad never did say anything to Nick. When I was approximately 20-21 years old Dad mentioned Nick out of the blue and asked if he really had given me Maria’s pantyhose. I told him it was true that he had. Dad asked “I still don’t quite get why he gave them to you though. You would think he would have given them to a girlfriend or throw them away over time if he hated them.” I replied “Oh Nick doesn’t hate pantyhose. He thinks pantyhose are sexy. He just hated that they took up so much space in the basement. Maria had them in a large steamer trunk. He wanted me to have them because he was amused by me when he caught me with them. “How so?” Dad queried.
Smiling a little I said “He was leaning against a wall and had watched me grab several pair and try to shove them in my pockets. He was cool about it and asked what I was up to and I told him I wanted the pantyhose. He tried not to laugh and asked me why. When I told him I wear them he was at first surprised by my answer but didn’t judge me. He thought about it for a minute then said he would give me some. He liked the fact that I was doggedly determined to have them and he decided he wanted to help. It was like a secret mission between us to get me the pantyhose. Dad shook his head and we never discussed the topic again.
Recently I was watching a few pantyhose videos on YouTube when I came across two commercials I remembered from my youth. One was for London Mist nylons and the other for guaranteed not to run pantyhose. The commercials aired in my town several times throughout the day for quite a few months. The commercials brought back memories of playing with hose and re-enacting the commercials.
The London Mist commercial was filmed in black and white. The first time I saw it come on it grabbed my attention right away. An announcer is heard relating how the nylons are like no other and simply won’t run no matter how they are abused. A nail file is run inside the length of the nylon and it does not run or snag. Then a scrub brush is used to scour the nylon and again no snags or runs. Then a “regular” nylon is cut in half across the width of the thigh and then stretched at the cut edge. The “regular” nylon runs like mad. The same is done to the London Mist nylon but it does not run. I was fascinated by the commercial and wanted to get my hands on some London Mist nylons so I could re-enact the commercial but I never came across any.
What I did instead was re-enact the commercial with many of my teacher’s “stolen” pantyhose. The pantyhose already contained a run so after having worn them for a short time I acted out the commercial on the good stocking leg. Most of the time the pantyhose snagged and ran as soon as I raked them with the nail file but not always. The scrub brush never failed to shred them. I didn’t do the “cut” test because I had no doubt that the pantyhose would run when pulled.
A few years later I noticed an ad in the classifieds in my local paper. The ad read that pantyhose product testers were needed to test a new pantyhose and that no professional experience was needed and everyone was encouraged to call. One afternoon I called the number. It was to a hosiery manufacturer in North Carolina. A man answered and I told him I was replying to the ad. At first he was confused and said that they were looking for people to wear test their new pantyhose. He said “Do you understand? You’re a male what would you know about pantyhose?” I told him I did understand and that as a regular wearer of pantyhose I thought having a teenage male wear test no-run pantyhose would be a good idea and that I would be ideal to give the pantyhose a true test of their ability to avoid runs. He was quiet for a moment then said “I agree. I will mail a pair out to you today.” After asking my height and weight, address and telephone number he stated he would call me in three days to see if I had received the pantyhose.
I got the pantyhose and was not impressed with their sheerness but they were soft. I put them on right away and went about wearing them as often as I possibly could. The man from the hosiery mill called and asked if I had received the pantyhose and then asked me a series of questions. Primarily he wanted to know if I was wearing them and for how long at a time. We ended the call with him saying he would give me a call in a week to gather more information.
Once I’d had the pantyhose for a week, he called for an update. I informed him that they had not run or developed any holes or snags. He asked how I wore them, i.e., activities, etc., what I thought of the quality, the feel of the fabric, etc. At that time, the only somewhat negative comment I had was that the pantyhose wrinkled noticeably at the ankles after wearing all day. I added “Some could find that sexy though.” My statement caught him off-guard and he stammered for a moment. To rescue him I added that I thought the pair I had been sent might be a little bit large for me. He stated he may have gotten the size wrong or the wrong size may have been sent. He asked me to grasp the toe of each stocking and gently pull them from my feet to see how much, if any length of stocking would “hang” from my feet. I did as he asked and had nearly the length of half of my foot of stocking dangling from my feet. “Oh they are too large. I’ll send you another pair. Keep wearing that pair though until your new pair arrives and I’ll be in touch in a couple of days.” It suddenly dawned on me how erotic it was to be talking with this man over the telephone about pantyhose. When the second pair arrived I put them on and they fit much better. The man called and asked if I received them and how they fit. He inquired as to whether or not I had gotten a run, hole or snag in the first pair. I told him I had not and he was pleased by that and re-affirmed that they were mine to keep.
The second pair felt better as the stockings clung to my legs much better. Also, they didn’t wrinkle around my ankles at the end of the day. After three days he called again inquiring about the pantyhose. I told him they fit better and were not bagging after being worn all day. He was pleased and asked “May I ask you another question?” I replied “Sure, go ahead.” “How long have you been wearing hosiery?” “Oh, since I was four years old.” He was a bit stunned by my answer and said he would call again in a few days.
On the seventh day the man called again. He asked how the pantyhose were holding up and how frequently I was wearing them. I answered that I was wearing them every day and even stocking footed on the kitchen floor. He asked why that was significant and I told him that we had a ceramic tile floor and it was a “pantyhose killer.” He laughed and said “That’s great! Not that the floor kills your pantyhose but that you are wearing them on the floor and they have not run.” He said he would not call again for another week and requested that I continue to wear the pantyhose as much as I possibly could during that time. I continued wearing them daily even though Dad was still buying pantyhose for me and I had quite a haul remaining from Nick.
After wearing the second pair a total of two weeks the man called. From the beginning I had told him to call me just after I arrived home from school. If Dad discovered I was talking with someone over the phone about pantyhose, whether it was as a pantyhose tester or not I don’t think he would have been comfortable with it. He again asked if the pantyhose had any runs or holes. I told him they did not. He then asked how I wash them. I told him that I hand wash them even though he said they could be machine washed. I seriously doubted they could be put in the washer, though I didn’t say that to him.
On the third week, he called again. He asked if the pantyhose had runs or holes and I replied that they didn’t have any holes or true runs but I noticed something strange. He asked me to explain and I told him that it appeared that some stitches had come undone but there were still stitches above so it wasn’t a true run and there wasn’t a hole. He asked how long the run was. I replied that it was only about two inches but it wasn’t going anywhere. He remarked that some of the lock stitches had finally failed but those around that area were preventing additional failure. “All in all, would you say these pantyhose are the longest lasting you’ve ever worn?” he asked. I told him they were and that I really didn’t consider that little blemish to be a true run. He thanked me for participating in the wear test and asked if I would like to remain in their files for any future hosiery wear tests. Of course I told him I would. I wasn’t particularly fond of the no-run pantyhose because they weren’t as sheer as I like, I love sheer pantyhose.
A year later a new guaranteed not to run pantyhose commercial began airing numerous times a day. One evening Dad and I were watching television in the rec-room when it came on. In the commercial they subject the pantyhose to various forms of torture as they show women constantly getting runs in their “regular” pantyhose. I was surprised when Dad made a comment about the torture tests they were subjecting the pantyhose too. I’d have thought he would watch in silence. He said “I don’t think any pantyhose can hold up to that kind of abuse. If it’s real, maybe you should start wearing them.”
Once the commercial ended I told him I had worn them as a product tester and that I did not want them. Surprised, he asked me to explain. I told him the whole story then he said “And you never got any runs?” “No, they didn’t run or develop holes, but they are not as sheer as other pantyhose either.” “So how did they pay you?” he asked. “I wasn’t paid anything, as a tester you just got to keep the pantyhose.” “Well of course you got to keep them, they don’t want them back. Do you still have them?” I told him I had them hidden somewhere in my room. What Dad said next left me stunned. “Well, the pantyhose survived you wearing them for three weeks but can they really survive those torture tests? I think you should try it.” I answered back “Yeah, I will have to see if it’s true.”
The program was back now and I remained seated and resumed watching it. After a few minutes Dad said “Well, aren’t you going to get them?” Silently, I stared at him then he said again “Why don’t you go and get them. I’m really curious now. I want to see if they are as run proof as they say.” I got up and said I’d be back shortly as I headed for my bedroom. It took me a few minutes to locate the two pair as I wasn’t sure where I had put them. Once I had them I also grabbed a pair of jet black pantyhose from the haul Nick had given me. I went to the bathroom to retrieve a metal nail file, then the kitchen to obtain a dinner fork, mesh pot scourer and my Mom’s sewing basket for a small scissor. I returned to the rec-room with everything and found Dad at the bar with a piece of plywood. He said “Use this plywood for the tests. Do you remember them?” I raised my eyebrows and replied that I did.
The first form of torture we subjected the pantyhose to was the nail file. With the nail file in my hand I placed my hand inside a leg of the no-run pantyhose down to the toe. I had Dad hold the toe area while I slowly raked the file along the inside length of the stocking. The file caused no damage whatsoever so I proceeded to do the test twice more and again there was no damage. I then placed my hand in the stocking again only this time I was holding the small scissor and it was open so that both points raked across the nylon. The scissor did not damage the pantyhose even though the sound of the scissors raking across the fabric made a sound that had us convinced the nylon was ripping.
The next torture test was with a dinner fork. In the commercial they stretched the nylon taut then slowly lowered the stocking onto the tines of the fork so that the tines go through the fabric. I had Dad hold the fork while I performed the test. After the first attempt we were both shocked that the hose had no holes so I tried it twice more and still no holes. Another fork test was to rake the pantyhose with it. I grabbed an old magazine and placed it on the plywood then lay the pantyhose flat while Dad held them in place. I raked the pantyhose several times with the fork. In the commercial the newspaper shredded so I made sure to apply enough pressure for the magazine to do the same. The fork made “scratching” sounds on the nylon as I raked the hose and the magazine shredded. When I finished Dad said “Well if they don’t have runs they’ve got to have some holes.” I slipped my hand inside and there were no runs or holes, not even snags. We were in disbelief so of course I had to do the test twice more and still no damage to the pantyhose.
Next I had Dad hold the stocking flat on the board as I prepared to scour an area with the scouring pad. Before I began Dad said “There is no way these nylons can survive this test.” I ran the pad back and forth over the nylon. I didn’t do it any harder than it was done in the commercial but I also didn’t do it with a light hand. When I finished I held up the hose and put my hand inside. To our amazement there were no runs or holes but there were several minor snags. Dad couldn’t believe his eyes and said “No way! Try it twice more and see if they rip.” I did as he asked and still no holes or runs, only snags. He took the pantyhose from me and shoved his big hand inside the stocking to examine it closer. “These pantyhose are pretty amazing but I see your point about them not being as sheer. Still I think we should move you over to these from now on.” I looked at him with a crestfallen expression and said “But Dad, I love sheer pantyhose.” “Well, you can certainly use up what you have but you are growing and I think it is only a matter of time before you are running several pairs each week. I looked at him in disbelief and before I could say anything he added “Yeah, you’ll be moping around the house in tears whining Daddy my pantyhose keep running and I don’t have any more. With these you will be able to wear a pair for at least a month or so and you won’t bankrupt me over pantyhose. Therefore, we definitely have to get you into these. Not sure of what to say I softly said “I don’t like them though.” Now grinning, Dad said “I know, I know, I’m just fucking with you. I’m not going to change what we buy BUT, please don’t cry in front of me when you get a run.” I replied with a terse “Really, like I would do that.”
Dad finally noticed the black pantyhose and asked “What do you have there?” I answered “I thought I would compare a pair of my sheer pantyhose to the no-run pantyhose.” “What? With a pair I bought you? I don’t think so.” “You didn’t buy these.” Before he had time to say anything about it I began to get ready for the nail file test and asked him to hold the stocking by the toe. I ran the file across the pantyhose and they did not run but I knew if I wanted to be brutal with the file the hose would run. When I finished Dad asked “So… are these also from your donor?” I didn’t make eye contact but answered with a simple “Yes.” I performed the scissor test and one of the sharp points punctured the pantyhose within seconds. “You aren’t going to tell me who it is?” “Nope.” I continued doing the tests and Dad went along with it. The fork ripped and punched holes in the pantyhose. The last test was the scour pad. Dad said “Well, we know they are going to be shredded.” I replied back “Yes, but how bad and how quickly?” As soon as the pad touched the nylons they were snagged then almost simultaneously they shredded.
I balled up the destroyed black pantyhose and placed them in the bottom of the trash can in the laundry room. When I returned Dad said “Well, that was a bit of a waste. You knew they couldn’t possibly hold up. Don’t do that with pantyhose I buy you.” I slipped and replied to Dad “I have quite a few of those pantyhose so I won’t miss one.” Dad looked at me quizzically then asked “What is a quite a few?” I told him I had a couple dozen pair even though I still had hundreds of pairs. “What the hell? Who is this donor who gave you a couple dozen pairs of pantyhose? Who? I want you to tell me.” I balled up the no-run pantyhose and headed for the laundry room and placed them in the bottom of the trash can. When I returned Dad asked “You’re throwing them away?” “Yeah, they aren’t what I like so why keep them?” Then Dad said “Don’t go anywhere. I’m still waiting for an answer.”
He sat on the sofa as I stood in the center of the room contemplating my response. Finally I said “If I told you it would cause an international incident.” Dad chuckled then replied “I’m willing to take the risk. I want to know. You’re not in any trouble but I think I have a right to know who gave my son dozens of pairs of pantyhose and you are going to tell me.” I continued to stand in silence for a moment then asked “If I tell you are you going to confront this person?” Dad looked surprised by my question and thought for a moment before answering. “Well, you got me there. No, I guess not.” “That’s good because I would die if you did.” I began to turn and leave when Dad called my name and firmly said “Okay, enough bull shitting me. Now you’ve got me a little worried because you won’t tell me. You’d better start talking or I’m going up to your room and turning it inside out. Every pair of pantyhose I find I’m going to rip, even the Hanes, so I think you’d better start doing some fast talking.”
Suddenly I was overwhelmed with tremendous anxiety. I didn’t want to lose my pantyhose collection but I also didn’t want to rat on Nick. As I contemplated my answer time slipped away and Dad rose from the sofa and started up the stairs. I quickly came to my senses and began chasing behind him. I was only steps behind Dad. He went into my room and looked at me standing in the doorway then said “Last chance and I’m not joking around damn it.” He opened my closet and began pulling shoe boxes from the shelf. He opened a box and it was full of pantyhose from Nick. He dumped them on the bed then scooped up several pair with his right hand. The legs were dangling freely and he reached for them with his left hand. My heart sank. I knew he was serious now. He wrapped the legs around his left hand then stretched the length of them tight as he said “Damn it! Do you really want all of your pantyhose torn up? I won’t be buying you any more either. For that matter I’ll go the way of your mother. You bring any in this house and I’ll take them away from you and make you watch me rip them before I throw them out.”
My anxiety was so great now that I needed to piss terribly. I felt as though I would piss myself if I dared exhale. “You promise you won’t go after him!” I shrieked. “What?! Him?! A man has been giving you pantyhose? Oh shit!” I quickly stammered “It’s not like that. He caught me with pantyhose and asked why I had them and I told him I like them. He asked what I meant by like them and when I told him I like to wear them he thought it was interesting. So he gave me some.” At this point Dad had dropped the pantyhose onto the bed. “Okay, so where did he get them? Is he buying them for you?” I could no longer take the grilling and just blurted “It’s Nick.” Dad looked at me in disbelief then asked “Nick? Nick gave you pantyhose? I don’t understand.” I told Dad how Maria had a trunk containing pantyhose in the basement and I discovered the pantyhose inside and Nick caught me and instead of being offended that I was going to take some he offered them to me because he wanted the trunk gone and Maria was dragging her feet about getting it out.
Dad stood silent for a few moments then said “So, you were caught trying to steal pantyhose from a family friend?” I softly answered “Yes, but Nick didn’t care. He said I could have them because Maria didn’t even wear them.” “I don’t give a shit if she was wearing them or not. You were attempting to steal pantyhose and I’ve told you over and over not to do it. I’m really pissed and disappointed.” Quickly I shot back, “He gave them to me quite a while ago. Well before we made our agreement. They didn’t even fit me when he gave them to me.” “What do you mean by that?” “I was a lot younger when he gave them to me and he made me promise not to reveal that he gave them to me because he said he knew you and Mom would not like it.” “You know what, it isn’t so much that he gave you pantyhose. I guess I can accept that. What I have a problem with is that you were going to steal them until he caught you.”
I stammered I have to pee… BAD! “Go ahead, go!” he said. I went to the bathroom and peed and pondered what was coming next when I re-entered my room. I walked in and found Dad sitting on the other bed. He said “I’m not going to say anything to Nick. I’m sure if I did he would be incredibly embarrassed as would I and really what am I going to say? Why did you give my son pantyhose or I don’t approve of you giving my son pantyhose? The topic isn’t exactly something two men discuss on a daily basis. Okay then, it’s out in the open now. Did you take any from Maria after Nick gave you some?” he asked. “No, I didn’t take pantyhose from her. Nick gave them to me and I haven’t taken any in a very long time from anyone.”
Dad breathed in deeply several times and remained silent. Finally, he spoke “I don’t approve of what Nick did, meaning taking pantyhose from Maria but that is between him and Maria. As for him giving them to you I’m still not sure what I think about that. He isn’t all that much older than you but I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Nick gave you pantyhose.” In an attempt to get Dad to stop thinking too much I said “Well, Nick thought it was funny that he had taken them and angered Maria but he thought it funnier that I was wearing them. He had hoped I would go through them quickly so there would be no evidence. He found it amusing to know I was wearing them and used them up which would have infuriated Maria if she had known.”
Dad said “Okay, you can keep what he gave you and your pact with Nick will remain a secret. Fuck! I’ve got a damned headache.” Dad scooped up the pantyhose from the bed and dropped them in the shoe box then returned it to the shelf in the closet. I was worn out now and told him I was going to go to bed.
Dad never did say anything to Nick. When I was approximately 20-21 years old Dad mentioned Nick out of the blue and asked if he really had given me Maria’s pantyhose. I told him it was true that he had. Dad asked “I still don’t quite get why he gave them to you though. You would think he would have given them to a girlfriend or throw them away over time if he hated them.” I replied “Oh Nick doesn’t hate pantyhose. He thinks pantyhose are sexy. He just hated that they took up so much space in the basement. Maria had them in a large steamer trunk. He wanted me to have them because he was amused by me when he caught me with them. “How so?” Dad queried.
Smiling a little I said “He was leaning against a wall and had watched me grab several pair and try to shove them in my pockets. He was cool about it and asked what I was up to and I told him I wanted the pantyhose. He tried not to laugh and asked me why. When I told him I wear them he was at first surprised by my answer but didn’t judge me. He thought about it for a minute then said he would give me some. He liked the fact that I was doggedly determined to have them and he decided he wanted to help. It was like a secret mission between us to get me the pantyhose. Dad shook his head and we never discussed the topic again.
Virginia
- 26.09.2021
- 43
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