Tiffany's Tights

by Tightslover1

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© Copyright 2014 - Tightslover1 - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-M; F/m; pantyhose; fetish; majick; bond; encase; cocoon; mast; climax; cons; X

Hey. I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Chris. I’m Tiffany’s boyfriend. And I’m about to tell you about the weirdest, and yet most amazing night of my life. But first you have to understand - it all begins with Tiffany, and those gorgeous tights.


I first met Tiffany while shopping at the local mall. She was a year older than me (I was 18 at the time), and I had just recently begun to believe I could actually get away with buying tights in public. Let me fill you in: since I was a little kid, I always loved women’s pantyhose and tights. Whenever I saw a girl or woman wearing them, I would have to readjust my pants to hide my...excitement. It had slowly extended to me experimenting with wearing them myself! At first I stole pairs from female friends, but soon I desired the thrill of purchasing them myself, in public.

As soon as I turned towards the lingerie section, I spotted her for the first time. A slim asian girl, about 5’4 with long, silky black hair, wearing a red skirt with opaque black tights, topped with a white blouse. I immediately forgot what I was doing there and froze for a moment. I think she saw me, because I still swear to this day she chuckled at me. She denies it.

Anyways, I walked over and decided to try my luck with her. I introduced myself, and tried to let out a few flirty compliments. She laughed and played along, and all was merry for me, being able to sneak peeks at her gorgeous legs in those opaque tights. Little did I know, I was being so obvious, she was trying not to crack up.

She also had developed a love of tights at a young age, it turned out, but hadn’t ever mentioned it because she noticed that most girls hated wearing them, and didn’t want to seem different. That was, until she got out of high school and decided to define her own fashion. Now she owned over fifty pairs of tights (and constantly added to the collection) and wore a different pair every day, purely for her own pleasure. And now mine.

Anyways, she paused mid giggle, and became quite stern. I froze, wondering what I’d said to mess things up. She stared into my eyes, and very calmly stated, “You like my tights. Ask me out to dinner tonight. I promise you’ll enjoy it.” I blushed a deep red, and stammered out a few syllables, unable to form syllables. I was so shocked that she had been able to identify my deepest secret, and so embarrassed she’d just blurted it out for the world to hear.

She must have sensed my unease because she quickly smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, I know just what to do with boys like you. Here’s my number.” She handed me a business card. Tiffany Delone, Lingerie Consultant. She turned and walked away slowly, rubbing her thighs and giving me a show. I could barely hold myself together in the mall, being surrounded by all of the hosiery and having just had that interaction. Just then I notice she had written something on the back of the card. Scrawled in pen, it said, “There’s a secret stash of tights under the stairs by the exit. Take some. -Tiff”

I nearly sprinted to the front of the store, and then nonchalantly slid myself under the stairs. Sure enough, there were around ten pairs of various colors of tights, as well as some sheer pantyhose. I grabbed anything I could fit in my pockets, and sped home.


Fast forward a few years later, and Tiffany and I have been dating ever since. I took her out to dinner that night, and we both got what we expected from the bedroom later that evening, but what we didn’t expect to get was a real connection. I felt something with her, even before knowing we both loved tights. But the real story here is about the night that the tights took over.

It all started so normally. I walked into our apartment at about 3:45pm, having a few hour break between my classes. I was dressed in my usual attire, jeans and a t shirt, though I had stolen a pair of Tiffany’s tights, and was wearing them under my jeans, giving me a recurring erection throughout class.

This is the time I would normally come home and masturbate, because Tiffany would be out of the apartment and I could have my alone time. While we had always shared the pantyhose fetish, I had never told her about my self-bondage habits, for fear that it would be too weird, and scare her off. Besides, I had always enjoyed self-bondage, but didn’t know if truly being helpless would be as much of a turn on.

Anyways, I walked into the hallway, and noticed that Tiffany’s room was closed and the door was locked. I walked over to the door, and knocked. From inside, all I could hear was muffled moans, but they were definitely Tiffany’s. I took the key above the door and unlocked it, entering the room. What I walked into was what I could only describe as a fantasy of mine. Tiffany’s slim body was entirely encased in tights and pantyhose, and somehow the pantyhose had knotted so that her body was forced into a ring, with her toes being pulled up next to her head. She was squirming and struggling, letting out moans and gasps.

I stood, frozen, for a moment. I contemplated my actions, and decided I should probably save her, but for now let her out or else she would get mad at me. So I walked over, and made myself known to her. She squirmed emphatically, and started moaning louder, “Mmmmph! MMMPH!” I chuckled, thinking she’d gotten herself into a self-bondage scenario she couldn’t escape from. I winked and pointed out to her that I was wearing a pair of her pantyhose, and she began to squirm even harder. She was almost bouncing off the bed at this point. Suddenly my legs began to go numb.

I stumbled and barely avoided hitting my head as the tights I was wearing suddenly went rigid and held my legs solid, not budging an inch. I ended up laying down on her floor, and I saw the door slam shut, being pulled with what looked like a moving pair of tights. Suddenly I felt a stretchy, dark fabric slide against my face and back of my neck, extending to my waist. A moment later, the same happened to my bottom half. Unable to move my legs and now somewhat encased, I began to squirm.

Suddenly, the two large nylon tubes pulled away from me. They also pulled my jeans and shirt, leaving me laying naked on the ground in front of my bound girlfriend, unable to move my legs which were in her pantyhose. I looked around for as long as I could but soon another pair of opaque black tights crawled over and slid itself onto my head, forcing me to breathe in the aroma of Tiffany’s legs and feet. Two more went up my arms, then one around my entire upper half, with a hole in the top so I can still barely see.

My arms constricted effectively in the many layers of nylon, more pairs began sliding up my legs. Each pair was forceful, yet tingling as it rolled onto my legs as if controlled by some magical force. While I could move my legs again, it was not much because about seven pairs had just rolled themselves onto my legs, before beginning to use themselves as ropes to tie my legs together into a frogtie, my ankles touching my upper thighs.

Now a fetish mummy just as much as Tiffany, I was lifted by a few more pairs and placed on the bed with her. I immediately began to squirm, but her helpless moaning had turned into sexual moaning, and almost immediately we found each others’ bodies, and began to rub against each other in any way we could. Multiple times I was able to straddle her crotch with my frogtied legs and rub myself to arouse her.

We continued in this way for a few hours, and then suddenly she was free. As quickly as the tights had decided to tie her up, they decided to let her go. It was almost as if she had decided to become free, and the tights had obeyed her. I tried to speak through the many layers of nylon on me. “Hrrrw drrd yrrr drr thrrt?”

She chuckled. “Oh Chris. You think I haven’t seen your search history? I just never told you that my love of tights extends so far that I have control over them.” She lifted her hands, and suddenly every pair of tights in the room lifted into the air.

“You see, I wanted to make sure you would enjoy something like this before I suggested it in the bedroom. And you passed with flying colors! I think I came four times! Four!” She chuckled again, and then smirked.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m done with you,” she whispered, and she walked out of the room and closed the door. I lay on the bed, still encased in nylon and frogtied, and suddenly every pair of pantyhose left in the room began to levitate again. Then slowly, each one floated towards me and encased another part of my body, until I was eventually stuck inside a layer of bunched up tights. I screamed into my now-stuffed-with-tights gag, and squirmed as hard as I could, but I knew Tiffany. Once she found out I liked something... she had no mercy.

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