Perfect Tights: Knocking John Out

Allison tucks her body in, breaking at the waist. Her nails claw painfully into her thigh, into the nylons. The pain was a relief from the onslaught her legs were in; it was as if every nerve on her legs were being pulled and stretched, and the feeling only got worse if she stopped thinking about it. She could hear John through the sensations, from the distance, and she didn't like what she heard. Quickly, before anything else happened, Allison turned around with all of her strength, fist outstretched. In moments Allison was sliding down the opposite wall, panting heavily, pain moving up her body from her legs. John was silent, sprawled on the floor and unconscious.