Notes: The pictures illustrating this story comes from all over the web. I can't state the site where they come from, because I never taken notes of it. It is quite possible that these images are not "new" to you, but the basic purpose of them is to illustrate the story, not display new images. - Pete
Note about this story:
This story is not all written and only published chapter by chapter.
I write it as it goes, and publish a chapter when it's ready.
If you want the story to take a particular direction, tell me
and perhaps I can do something about it.
"Another day, another dollar" thought Karen while
stretching to stop the alarm of her wake-up clock. It was Friday,
but one of those Fridays where you very much look forward to the
weekend. It has been a long week at the office, and the weekend
rest was a more than needed prospect. Lots of work at the magazine,
but everything was going great. Actually, she didn't expect a
magazine devoted to the fashion of denim, especially tight denim
would sell to that many copies. 50 millions last month!
She threw the bed sheets away, revealing her tight stretch denim
jumpsuit that she always wear as her pyjamas. It was hugging every
inches of her slim body with just the right pressure. It had to
be, it was 2 sizes too small. Her high heels mules were waiting
for her feet besides the bed. The clear acrylic was almost shining
over the blue carpet of the bedroom. The shoes were entirely made
of transparent acrylic, including the toe strap. She had choose
them for exactly this reason. Very handy for what was to come.
She got up, of course putting on the shoes. "Never rest a
foot flat on the floor" she said to herself while sliding
her feet into them. "You can end-up with flat feet".
She walked to the bathroom, removed her jumpsuit. The imprints
of the seams could be noticed along her legs, arms and on each
side of her body. She looked at herself in the mirror. "Humm...
these marks shows up almost like they're really there. They don't
look so pretty. Maby I can do better. Next time, I'll get one
another size smaller, that way the imprint will be prefect!"
she said with a smile, before stepping back into her mules and
getting in the shower. It was tricky to wash herself and twisting
around with the wet high heels, but she managed, and kind of liked
the challenge. Always a nice warmup for what was to come.
After she dried up herself, she went back to the bedroom, and
opened her closet. " Okay..." she said to herself "what's
the agenda for today... hummm. Mainly standing up and walking,
not a lot of sitting down. Makes the choice easier!". She
picked a heavyweight stretch denim bodysuit, with long sleeves.
It was fitting her very snugly, but the stretch denim allow her
to have almost free movements of her arms, tightly encased in
the fabric. It was a little chilly that day, so the heavweight
fabric will keep her warmer. It has been made to measure for her
with moulded cups so her breast will not look squished. And now
for the jeans. Again, the choice was easy. She had her jeans divided
into "typed", for different activities. There were 4
types:
Type 1: Tight fit stretch denim. She had to get a few of those following an incident when she once went for montain hiking with a bunch of friends. She had on what was then her regulay "type 1" jeans, being snug fitting regular denim. At one point, she got stuck to a rockface, not being able to move her leg high enough to climb, and not able to bend it enough to get down. They had to lower her with a rope, and she swore that it would never happen again. The stretch denim gives the tight fitting she likes, but allows much more freedom of movement. She will only wear them when she knows she's going to really need freedom.
Type 2: Formerly her "type 1" jeans. Those are snug/.tight fit jeans. There is some restriction of movement, and the tightness is perceptible. She would wear those where a too tight garment may cause troubles. Like if she has a very long sitting session in front of her, like for a board meeting or a trip, and wearing type 3 jeans will cause much discomfort, like the time where she decided to wear type 3 jeans before she took an airplane for a 6 hours trip, that ended up late and bumpy all along, and she finally spent 7 hours sitting in the plane seat, buckled up, able to get up only to go to the bathroom. At her arrival, both legs were numb, and she has to stay in the airplane for 15 minutes after it landed for her legs to get strong enough to walk. Another hard learned lesson.
Type 3 is mostly her everyday jeans. Very tight, so much that
pliers are needed to close the zipper, but she can manage without
much troubles (or is it experience) so she can go to public restrooms
and be able to put back the pants. Very nice feeling for walking,
good for sitting if not too long. Very nice feeling to wear for
a slow walk in a trail in the woods. But no rock climbing!!
She has 2 varieties: regular and heavyweight denim.
Type 4 is the extreme type. Awfully tight. Make only of very heavyweight denim, those featured tripled stitched, glued seams, an army certified zipper, and are so tight to put on that she actually had to have a special device made for them. Once she has the jeans as high as she can, she hand herself to the device. A strong steel belt is fed through the belt loops of the pants (kevlar reinforced) and they're slowly pulled up, until her feet are off the ground. then she squirmed around and after many minutes and contorsions, the crotch is as high as it will go. Then she lowers herself on the ground, and gets her back against the device. It's a simple mechanical thing, with one center "push post" and two sides "hands". When she pushed with her back on the push post, the two sides handes closes on her hips. The surface of the hands are covered with small notches, that grips the denim. The more she pushes back, the more the hands pull the fabric toward the front, getting the two sides of the zipper closer. Then she takes a hook, grap the zipper and pull it up, usually a centimeter at a time. The whole process takes about half an hour. Once done, she's tightly encase in thick denim. Walking is difficult, sitting is out of the question, but the feeling is astounding!
And there, at the far end of type 4, there's a single piece of clothing. A gift from a special friend: her sister. She had a big joke played on Karen with that suit. That's tight denim to the extreme. Very heavyweight denim, lined with a fine layer of kevlar, seams triple stitched and glued, and army grade zipper. She had wore it only once, and it took one hour to put on... and another hour to get out! The legs are as tight and difficult to put on as her type 4 jeans. With the kevlar lining, the torso section act as a strict corset as the waist was made 2 sizes smaller than she really is, and the breast is molded like her bodysuit. The arms are very tight, and hard to pull through. Once all zipped in it, Karen could barely move. The tight fabric allowed only for her to bend forward or sideways a maximum of 15 degrees. She couldn't bend her arms at more than 90 degrees, and her shoulders didn't allow her to raise her arms more than 45 degrees in the air, with a 90 degrees of total rotation for both direction (45 front/ 45 back). Her sister had her dressed in the suit, put her highest heels boots on, and was drove to a high school reunion (which she had been kept unaware of it's preparation, so it was a total surprise). She spent the whole evening not able to bend, not able to sit, not able to eat, because she couldn't reach her mouth with the tight sleeves, which on the other hand was a good thing, since it was impossible for her to go to the bathroom. She was sore for 2 days after that event, and had swear that her sister was going to pay for that. She was still waiting for the right moment.
But right now, it was a working day, and since she didn't had
any of her special device to put type 4 jeans on at work, she
settled for a type 3. She grabbed a pair of light blue. They were
beginning to wear out, but were able to keep together without
ripping. She fed the pants pass her ankle and then put her shoes
on. It was the time or never, since once in them, she was unable
to bend enough to tie the shoes. She chose a pair of red platform
shoes. Then it was the now (oh so) familiar routine of pulling
and tugging and twisting to put jeans that tight on. With a pair
of pliers, she got the zipper up, and then she fastened the button
and let out a sigh of releif. A quick look at the mirror running
the full length and height of the wall put the smile back on her
face. Her figure was perfect. Her butt, nicely hugged by the tight
denim, putting it at the right place with the right shape. The
seams were screaming to tear-off. The high heel platform shoes
gave her unbeleivably long slim legs. Her waist encased 2 thickness
of denim (bodysuit and pants) was slowly expanding, as much as
the garment allowed it, with each quick breath. Her breast was
protuding with the perfect shape within the moulded cups. She
ran her hands up and down, feeling the little tickling all over
the path of the tip of her fingers. She shivered.
"Better go to work, lady. that's for later... or is it for
the full day?"
She put on a plastic raincoat, grabbed her purse (with clothes as tight as those, there was no way to put anything in pant pockets...) and headed for her car. It was a Toyota minivan, and so she had ample place to be able to sit in it, even with her tight jeans and heels. She hopped in, and fastened her 5 points racing style safetybelt. She likes the feeling of being tightly secured in her seat. That and the fact that the tight belt running between her legs, tugging on every bump, made her hot the whole trip, which was about an hour from home to office.
She parked the van in her reserved spot in the building parking
lot, and headed for her office, on the 15th floor. The clicking
sound of her heels could be heard two corridors away.
She got out of the elevator, and into the office, almost right
in front of it. Sandy, the secretary, was already there. She was
wearing, as you would expect, a tight denim ensemble. It was dark
blue denim jeans, with a leather tank top and high heels pumps
with ankle strap.
"Hello Karen."
"Hello Sandy. Any messages?"
"Just one. My sister Lynda called and said that sh's going
to come to the summer house this weekend, as scheduled."
A broad smile lightened Karen's face.
"Good. I can't wait to see her, and make her see what she's
missing."
"I don't want to sound too pessimistic, but she's absolutely
not into tight jeans."
"You know Sandy, what I always say is that events will make
things happen if they have to. We'll see what will happen this
weekend. You're still coming?"
"Of course I am. I wouldn't want to miss my sister wearing
her first pair of really tight jeans for all the gold in the world...
but then again, for all the gold..."
Karen left her with a good laugh. She remembered when she helped Sandy with her first pair of tight jeans. She had just hired her for the receptionist job, and she was at first shy, just even for working for a magazine dedicated to tight jeans, and seeing her boss, always in high heels and tight denim, made her unease, until Karen invited her to her summer house. There, she tried tight jeans, and fell in love with them. Now, she won't wear anything else, and she want her sister to experience it. Lynda was the perfect "casual" type, wearing flat sole shoes and loose fitting clothing for practicality, not feeling or pleasure. Sandy had been easy to "trick" to wear tight jeans, ending up with her usual clothes ruined, and having nothing to wear other than jeans and shoes provided by her host, who made certain that it was tight jeans and high heels. Sandy ended-up having to wear those for a full week. After only one day, she was sold to the idea. The hard part would be with Lynda. Sandy had told her all about how she was tricked, and so Lynda was coming to the summer house, with the assumption that Karen and Sandy would try to trick her into wearing tight jeans, and she swore that she would not be taken. She was going at the summer house to relax, having a good time at the lake. Karen had to come up with a plan. It was all thought about. All that needed was to execute it.
She entered her office, richely furnished with velvet covered
chairs and sofas, hard wood tables and working desk. The most
unique piece of equipment was her chair. It was made so the seat
could recline, giving her hips, when seated, rest since they weren't
at the classic 90 degrees angle. Very useful when seating for
prolong time with tight jeans. It has a special harness preventing
her to slide down. To the person on the other side of the desk,
she looked like she was seating in the normal manner. She sat
on the chair, adjusting the pitch of the seat portion to be comfortable,
and began the paperwork. On top of the list, the editorial for
the upcoming number. It was an essay by some guy name "Pete"
about what the code of conduct of clerks at jeans stores should
be. She liked it quite a lot, but it didn't exactly fit an editorial,
but she will defenitely publish it.
The morning went by like that, browsing about articles for the
magazine. As the head publisher, that was her job. She had lunch
at Ernie's with a bunch of friends and co-workers. When she arrived,
along with Sandy, two of her friends were already there.
The first one was Karyn, a short brunette with a slim, almost
skinny body. She usually make herself higher by wearing the highest
pair of heels she can wear, today a pair of ultra-thick black
platform shoes. With that, she was wearing a red pair of tight
denim jeans with a pink wool sweater. Susanne was her friend,
visiting from Denmark. She always liked tight jeans, but when
she saw Karen in hers, she wanted the same, and she got them.
Today, she was wearing what Karen beleived to by type 4! with
red pumps. She wasn't sitting on the stool, more leaning on it.
She greeted her with a large smile. Karen approached her.
"Hi Susanne. How are you today?"
"I can't feel better. Noticed my new jeans?"
"Yeah, I did. But isn't type 4 a little too extreme to go
out at a restaurant?"
"Exactly. And that's what makes it so fun. I can't sit, I
almost can't eat, and I certainely must not drink. Kinda self
diet discipline."
"Yeah, like you need to loose weight..." said Karyn.
"Hey, here come the missing persons!" yelled Susanne,
waving hands to the 2 approching women.
The first one was a slim and tall woman, pretty much the shape
and size of Karen. Her name was Lisa. She was in charge of the
advertising dept, and she sure advertise a lot all by herself.
She was wearing white platforms lace-up boots, type 3 acid-wash
denim jeans, a pvc top under a tight denim jacket. On her left
was Gina. A wee bit taller than Karyn, that italian lady was always
joyful and smiling. She was the head photographer of the magazine.
She was wearing type 1 stretch denim jeans and high heels sandals.
"What's with the type 1" asked Susanne as Gina approached.
"I had to take pictures in a barn, and for some angles, I
have to tuck myself in hard to reach places. I wear them because
I have to. Not because I want to. I would rather like be in what
you're wearing. Gee. Those look very tight."
"And they are, beleive me. I had all the hard time in the
world to zip them, even with the pant puller."
"Wow" said Gina. "How do they feel?"
"Ikke stram nok" answered Susanne with a laugh.
"I hear you" said Karen "not tight enough".
"I can't wait for my sister to try that" said Sandy.
"That's right, it's THE weekend for her, isn't it? So, what
have you planned?" asked Lisa.
"We'll go to the summer house" said Karen "and
it will happen what should happen..."
"Oooo" said Gina with a stupid afraid gesture "I
can't only try to imagine what you have planned in your sick mind
of yours. Tell us."
"No way. I will not give away my little secrets"
"Oh, come on" they all answered as once.
"Nope! And that's the final word. Now, how about some food?"
They all had a nice meal, except Susanne who settled for a
salad, of which she left half of it, not being able to eat one
more bite.
karen then headed back to the office until 15:00, then she left,
having stuff to prepare for the weekend. Sandy was to join her
when her sister will arrive, somewhere in the early evening. She
had a shiver of joy.
"That promise to be fun" she said to herself, looking
at her "shopping" list..
- to be continued
(c) sept 1999, Pete, for the Jeans Fetish Forum Webzine.
