He was alive! I threw thebat away and picked up the phone. My shaking fingersdialed 911. I told the operator that I needed anambulance because I beat ...he crap out of my husband. Ihung up and switched on the light. This one worked and Igot a good look at my handiwork.Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead. I sat on theedge of the mattress and tugged gently on his beard.“Mikel? Can you hear me?” A groan came out of his mouth and he managed to open hiseyes. “What the fuck. I did this for a while in my youth. God knows how long. I actually didn't even have a desire to even do anything with pantyhose yet. My mom wore them all the time, as did my grandmother, but I always thought they felt odd in the laundry basket. Sort of scratchy and not appealing. I imagine it was that I like the look of them on girls so much that I pushed past my 'non desire' for nylon to actualy put a pair on. It also probably had to do with the fact that pantyhose were getting much smoother. More

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