The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Betrayal, Chapter 2

Throwing on a pair of sweats and a shirt, I went to cook dinner. Shortly after I started my husband arrived home and right away he noticed. “Wow, look at you! I have to say, that pantyhose on your legs is really sexy..” Smiling to myself I finished dinner and we sat down to eat. While I was finishing I couldn’t help but notice my husband stayed in the kitchen to talk with me, and his eyes kept shifting down to my hosed feet. Flashing them as much as possible I would almost bust out laughing as he tried so hard to not let me see him staring. After dinner he went into the living room while I cleaned up, and when I walked into the living room I had removed my sweats to give him a full view of the pantyhose as it held my body so beautifully. Falling across his lap playfully I rubbed my legs together and made sure his hands fell across them. After a few minutes neither one of us could take it anymore and we headed to the bedroom where I made a hole just big enough for him to enter me in my hose so I wouldn’t have to remove it. That night we made love for hours and hours, until neither one of us could move anymore, and when I woke in the morning I didn’t even bother to try and remove my pantyhose because I already knew it was too late, and besides I really didn’t want to.

Later that week I found out I was pregnant again. Both my husband and I were excited and started making plans already. For the most part the next 9 months were a blur. My daughter came home for new years, and summer breaks. It was then we would spend countless hours talking about the joys of wearing pantyhose, and hang out, etc. When she would return to school the depression would still set in, but by that time I was starting to get used to her being gone. One day I was driving passed the park, and I saw some young girls playing. Thoughts of my childhood returned, and I remembered that night my mom gave in to her pantyhose. Suddenly it hit me, I was a slave to it. The rest of the drive home was a blur of tears, and I ran to the house to get to my room. Throwing off my shoes and skirt, I grabbed the waistband of my pantyhose and started to take it off. Instantly doubling over in pain I had no choice but to pull the pantyhose back up. Sitting down on the bed I started crying as I tried again and again to remove the pantyhose but each time it would end the same. Pain, lots and lots of pain. Finally I gave up and let go of the waistband, curled up into a ball on the bed and cried my eyes out. Finally the tears stopped flowing and I sat up letting my hand rest on my pantyhose leg. Slowly I started rubbing the hose, and the feelings returned, causing me to feel better. Giving up I got back dressed and said oh well.

The rest of the pregnancy passed and slowly the dread of knowing I would have to remove my hose for delivery became a reality. Unsure of what would happen I was scared! Then it happened, my water broke and it was time. Rushing me to the hospital my husband got me into the waiting room. Prepping me for delivery the nurses removed my hose and I was in agony. Lying I said it was contractions, and received some pain meds. Taking the edge off the pain I was able to concentrate on welcoming our new daughter into the world, and when I saw her beautiful face I decided that it was time to start over again and not wear pantyhose again.

In the beginning it was so hard. I spent several days in the hospital dealing with all kinds of pain and withdrawl. I was at a breaking point, my need had become more than I could fight. Ready to give up, and return to my former self the addiction finally broke, and after a few more days I began to feel normal again. Returning home was tough, everything there reminded me of my pantyhose. But slowly that passed as well. My daughter came home to visit, and see the newest member of the family. Walking through the door and looking at me there was a look of pure shock on her face. Pulling me to the side, she asked how I stopped wearing it. I then explained everything I went through, the pain, the withdrawl, and suffering, and how our precious new daughter was the only thing that got me through. Looking at me with pure sorrow, I realized she had been trying to stop herself. Shifting uncomfortably in her heels looking down at her legs I could see the unhappiness that she was feeling. Looking back up at me she said she was sorry for tricking me, and that she wished she could stop also. Then her hand brushed against her leg, and she started to smile. Rubbing her leg a little bit more I asked if she was ok, and still smiling she said “Oh yes I am fine now, just a brief lapse of reason. I am happy where I am, and you would be so much happier if you came back also.” Shaking my head no at her, I turned and left her standing there smiling and rubbing her legs.

Time passed as it always does. My daughter went through stages, one minute she was happy go lucky enjoying her pantyhose prison, the next she would stare at me longingly wanting to be free of it as I was. What she didn’t realize was that I wasn’t as free as she thought I was. Every day was a new challenge for me. Oh how I wanted it, everytime I would see someone wearing pantyhose I yearned to be them. The want was so overwhelming at times I would consider just breaking down and starting again. But knowing my baby girl Jenny would be looking to me for answers one day made me hold strong. Then my daughter started leaving traps for me, leaving pantyhose on the floor of my room, hanging them from the door handle, sneaking pairs into my dresser, anywhere she thought I might grab them and feel the need to wear them again. Seeing this coming I kept a pair of rubber gloves near by at all times and managed to thart her attempts at converting me back again. It was a constant struggle.

Then came the moment that Jenny came to me asking about pantyhose. Asking me why her sister always wore pantyhose and I never did. Also wanting me to buy her a pair so she could see what they felt like. She said all her friends were wearing pantyhose, and they told her she needed to try it. Plus that they started making fun of her because she didn’t wear it. Knowing this was that same moment from years ago with my mother, and the same talk that I had with my other daughter a few years ago. Sitting her down we talked for quite a while. She listened really well, did not argue with me, and asked me many questions. Answering them I then understood how my mother felt, the more I talked about it, the more I wanted it. But knowing this was important, I conitinued to have this conversation with her. When we were finished, I felt a huge relief and burdon lifted off my shoulders. Jenny smiled at me, said she understood, and that she would be the the first to beat this curse, and I could count on her. Smiling I grabbed her and squeezed her tightly telling her how much I loved her, she hugged me back and went on to bed. Smiling I got up and went to shower. As I showered I thought about our conversation and realized nothing I had said or done in the last few years had stopped the need in me to start wearing again. Shaking it off I told myself I am stronger than my mother, turned off the water opened the shower door and grabbed a towel to wipe off. As I wiped my body off all I could think about was pantyhose. The more I tried to stop the more I thought about it. Finally in a frenzy I threw the towel down and ran to my dresser. Nothing there, I had thrown them all way. Looking around the room in a panic I started to look for clothes so I could go buy some hose, when I remembered I had bought a pair of Leggs active support pantyhose when I first started wearing in case the other pair got a run (which it never did). Running to my closet and throwing things out I found the package. Tearing it open I bunched up the first leg as quick as possible and slid it over my foot, doing the same to the other foot I pulled them up as fast as I could and fell back on the bed to calm down. Several minutes passed and finaly my heart rate dropped. Looking down at my body I saw my hands had already betrayed me and were pushing the hose inside me, bringing me to a climax after climax after climax, until I finally passed out. Coming back out of my haze I stood up and gazed down at my hosed legs. All memories of my mother came back to me as I pulled the pantyhose off my legs. Sitting back down with the hose next to me, I started needing. Oh god how I needed to put it back on. Starting to shake, all I could think about was how bad I felt, and that if I put it back on I would feel better. Finally starting to cry, I picked up the pantyhose and put it back on. Picking up my robe I put that on as well. Sitting back down on the bed I cried and cried until I finally fell asleep.

Waking up to the alarm, I turned over and felt my hosed legs rub against each other. Suprised I jumped up and looked down at my body as all the memories of the night before came back to me. Pulling the hose off I went and woke my daughter Jenny telling her to get ready for school. Walking down towards the kitchen I started feeling the need again. Hitting the button on the coffee pot I stood there trying to think of anything else. Giving up I decided to shower, hot shower would definitely clear my mind. As I walked through my room I saw my hose sitting on the bed and decided I had better hide it so my daughter wouldn’t find out. Picking it up I turned towards my dresser but never made it. The next thing I remember I was sitting on my bed wearing the pantyhose rubbing every inch of my legs with my hands. Hearing a knock at the door I paniced and threw the covers over myself. “Yes” I asked, and I hear Jenny ask if I am ok. “I am fine, just catching alittle extra sleep” I said. Then it hit me, it was the exact same thing my mother said to me. I started crying again, and heard the door open. A gasp from the doorway told me this was playing out exactly as it did with my mom, and that Jenny had seen something I didn’t want her to see. Looking down I could see my feet were sticking out from under the blanket, so I threw the cover off and sat at the edge of the bed letting her see my legs. “Mom, what is going on?” Jennie asked and still crying I told her after our talk I couldn’t take it anymore. We talked a little more, and I told her I would find a way to beat it again. She smiled as I did and told me that she loved me either way even if I couldn’t stop. Hugging me tightly, she finished with telling me not to worry, she would not continue the curse. With that she turned around and left the room. Feeling a little bit better, I looked down at my legs and told myself I could beat it. Taking the pantyhose off I looked down at my legs, and started to find clothes for work. Ten minutes later I sat down with a cup of coffee, and kicked off my heels so I could rub my hosed feet together. Like my mother, I never stopped wearing pantyhose again.