She looked at her reflection in the mirror and grinned. She didn’t have the perfect body. She was rather short and puffy. Not fat, just puffy. Her hair was dull and she never seemed to find a way to wear them so she would look pretty.
That Saturday, she was again alone, like every other weekend. Like every other day. It was the afternoon, and she was walking downtown, browsing at the display windows. She spotted a girl on the other side of the street, tall, slim, and incredibly sexy in her tight jeans. She had tried tight jeans. She liked the feeling, but she looked like a circus monster in them. She simply didn’t have the right shape for that.
Suddenly, on that corner, she saw that store she never noticed before. It was advertising used clothes. She didn’t know why, but she felt drawn to look inside. She entered, and was greeted by the clerk, the only other person inside. He was creepy looking, wearing all black, his hairs, long to the shoulder, deep black and entangled as if they hadn’t been washed for days, were encircling his scar covered face. He smiled, showing a row of uneven yellowish teeth.
“Hello.” He said, from a creepy voice.
Karen shivered, but answered with a smile and headed for a rack. Why this rack, she didn’t know. She was browsing it when a pair of jeans attracted her attention. She took them off the rack with great anxiety.
They were vintage Jordache jeans from the ’80s. And the best, they appeared to be brand new, and where the right sizes! She looked at the tag: $10. A steal! She figured that the cut of 80’s style jeans could enhance her figure.
She took the jeans and rushed to the cashier. He took the jeans and looked at her.
“Good choice, miss.” He said smiling, showing again his row of ugly teeth. “But I have to warn you that these jeans are cursed.”
“Cursed?” asked Karen, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes, cursed. You can wear them 3 times only. If you wear them 4 times they… well, I’m forbidden to tell you what will happen.”
Karen stayed there for a few moments. She wasn’t sure anymore. Not because of the so call curse, but because she was buying it from evidently some kind of weirdo who has gone a little too heavy on the hard drugs.
“Whatever. At that price, I’ll take them, and take the risk.”
She never thought he would be able to, but the man smiled even more and this time she saw his blood filled gums. It was clearly disgusting.
“I have a nice jacket that goes with those.” He said, pointing at another rack. “Five dollars.”
“Is this one cursed too?”
“But of course. Everything here is cursed.” He said, always with that deep creepy voice and that disgusting smile.
“I’ll take it.” Said Karen, putting the money on the counter. The man put the jeans and the jacket into an old wrinkled brown paper bag and handed it to her.
“Remember, no more than three times. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Yeah, yeah, you did. Thanks.” She said leaving pretty much running out of the store. She wanted to get away from that man from a low budget horror movie.
It was still early in the afternoon, but she was just too eager to try the jeans. It never occurred to her that she never saw any dressing booth in the store, nor that the clerk ever asked her to try it for fit.
She took the bus back home. In the bedroom, she undressed and put the jeans on. They really felt like brand new, almost stiff. She slide them up her legs, and she had a strange feeling, like some tingling. As she was pulling them up, it seems as if her legs were getting longer, that or she was pulling them very slowly. Also, the jeans appeared to contour her legs to perfection.
She yanked up the zipper, fastened the button and looked at her reflection in the long mirror. She just couldn’t believe it. Her legs were long and thin. The jeans had tightened, tightly wrapping her legs from the knee up. Her butt, which was somewhat floppy, was now firm and round. She grabbed it to make sure it was her own. She could feel the tight denim, but more, it seemed to get tighter as she got more aroused. She just couldn’t believe it. She didn’t know what was going on, but she simply loved these jeans, and she was right, the 80’s cut was doing marvels.
She added the jacket. Her breasts appeared to become more shaped, firmer. Her arms elongated and became slimmer. She was looking simply gorgeous. Then she realized that she was standing on her toes. She put her heels down, but it didn’t feel comfortable, and it appeared like it all destroyed her look. But she couldn’t walk all day on her toes, unless…
She removed the jeans and the jacket, and put on her old clothes. A quick look in the mirror brought disappointment. She was looking like the puffy girl she always saw. With a quick look at the denim garments laying on the bed, she rushed out. She had to get high heels.
She took the bus back downtown. She got down, and realized that, without thinking about it, she had stopped in front of that same store, where she took the jeans. And there, in the display window, a pair of white kid leather platform shoes, with a 2 inches platform and sky-high 7 inches heels. She just had to get them. She entered the store, and was greeted again by the spooky man.
“Err… Can I have these shoes?” she asked.
The man looked at her, smiling his yellow smile.
“But of course. They’re 10 dollars. But I have to warn you, they too are cursed.” He said from his spooky voice.
Yeah, curse, thought Karen. If the curse is giving me that awesome figure, I can live with it.
“I don’t mind.” She said, “I’ll take them.”
He slowly put the shoes in another wrinkled brown paper bag.
“Don’t wear them more than three times.” He said
“Yeah, yeah” she said before rushing home.
Once home, she quickly changed to her new jeans, jacket and high heels. The jeans seemed even tighter. She couldn’t stop admiring her wonderful figure, firm and large breasts, thin waist, round buns and long legs perched on incredibly high heels. She simply looked gorgeous. Even her hair that was usually dull was shiny and full. It was like a whole new Karen.
She grabbed a quick bite and headed downtown. She was making head turns. She was sexily wiggling her tightly encased butt with each step. She felt sure of herself, and it showed. Many men she usually saw but never noticed her, were all the sudden offering drinks, and inviting her to dance. She spent a dream night. She never felt so alive.
She was back home by 5am, totally exhausted. She collapsed on the bed and fell asleep on the spot.
The sun shining through the window woke her up. She was all dizzy, and her head was pounding. She had memories of the night before. Wonderful memories.
She slid her hands to her thighs, and felt the tight denim still encasing her legs. It just felt great. She rubbed her thighs and her buns. Her body slowly arched, and she started to slowly move her hips up and down at the same time she was massaging her crotch. It didn’t take long before a wave of pleasure engulfed her. She had never felt anything like that before. It was extreme. Totally extreme. She fell asleep again, and woke up a few hours later. It was already Sunday afternoon when she took a shower. She was disappointed at her usual look reflecting from the bathroom mirror. She wanted her new look.
Without hesitation, she put everything back on. Again, the jeans seemed even tighter. So tight that walking was beginning to be difficult. Her hips were almost stiff. But the way it encased and shaped her butt, the longer legs she ended up with, were all just too wonderful. She spent the rest of the day in them.
Sitting down was difficult as her hips just wouldn’t bend enough, and walking was a challenge, as she has to rock her hips to do so. But the stimulation at her crotch was awesome. With each step, she got stimulated and aroused. She was turning in a circle in her small apartment, and was bored. She decided to go for a walk.
Her heels were clicking hard on the sidewalk, and with each step, she had to twist her hips to walk. Soon, she started to feel the strain on her hips and legs, but it did not hurt, it simply enhanced the pleasure. She was about to get an orgasm, but not here, not in the middle of the neighborhood. She entered a small alley, leaned against a wall and with just a few pressures from her fingers, came. She had trouble repressing screaming, but damn, it was so good. She never felt anything as powerful, as wonderful.
She stayed there, leaning against the wall, panting, still enjoying the last effects of the pleasure wave, eyes closed. When she opened them, there he was. The creepy store clerk, standing at the back of the alley, looking at her, smiling.
“You here?” she said, looking the other way if someone else was entering the alley, but when she looked again where the clerk was, he had vanished.
“I’m starting to have hallucinations, now.” She said.
She decided she had enough and walked back home. Many cars that were passing by her honked. She liked that. She had never been honked before. She didn’t have any effort to make to look sexier, the tight jeans were doing it all for her.
Once back home, she prepared herself a nice meal and spent the evening watching TV, still wearing the awesome denim ensemble. All this time, she was slowly rubbing her thighs, sending tingling pleasure waves along her body, slowly rocking her hips while seated.
It wasn’t long before she couldn’t do anything else but play with her fingers at her crotch, tickling it. She moaned, threw her head backward, and within a few seconds, she had another one, again, more powerful than the previous one. As she was looking at the TV, panting, recovering from the awesome pleasure wave that had engulfed her, she thought she saw the clerk’s face, as a shadow in the TV screen. He was looking at her, smiling his ugly yellow smile, looking satisfied. She bent forward to have a better look, but it vanished.
“Maybe you just had too much for one day, Lady.” Said Karen.
It was almost midnight, so she put the hallucination to the fact that she was tired. Time to hit the bed. Reluctantly, she removed the jeans, to find her “old self.” She tried to catch some sleep, but she just couldn’t. Everywhere she put her arms, all she was feeling was her puffy hips, small belly and floppy breasts. She didn’t like it.
“Ah, the heck with it. And it will be fun.” She said, getting up and putting back the jeans. She would simply sleep in them.
As she slid the jeans up her legs, she felt them elongating, and the jeans tightening around her hips. When she fastened them, her waist compressed and slimmed down to a perfect figure. She added the heels and the jacket, enhancing her feet, arm, making her breasts nice and firm. She returned to bed. It wasn’t long before she started to play with herself, and had another orgasm. As she was panting, looking at the ceiling, there she saw him again, the face of the clerk. Always smiling, but this time, his smile seemed more devilish. She blinked and his face was gone.
She had a thought. How many times had she worn the jeans? Was it three or four? He said no more than three times. She counted. She was at four times for the jeans, and three times for the shoes. And she didn’t feel bad at all, in fact, she never felt better.
With that comforting thought, she fell asleep.
She woke up in the morning with the sun. She was a University student, and she didn’t have any classes on Monday mornings. She stretched on the bed, feeling the tightness of the denim. She had slept the whole night wearing them, and she never felt better. She might do that more often. It pleased her. But for now, she needed to go to the bathroom. She removed the platform shoes, but she hit a snag when she tried to remove the jeans. She couldn’t.
She was unable to undo the button. She pulled down as hard as she could on the zipper, but it wouldn’t bulge. She thought that, while sleeping, she had swollen a little, and it was just too tight, that it will be okay in a few moments. She walked in circles in her apartment for a while, but she was still unable to remove the jeans, and her bladder, highly compressed, needed a flush.
She had no choice. She took scissors and tried to cut the button off, but she only succeeded to bruise her hands. She tried with a pair of pliers to pull on the zipper, as hard as she could. Nothing. Desperate, she tried to cut herself out with a knife, but she only dented the blade!
She couldn’t believe it. She was stuck in them. She was starting to get tired of walking on her toes, so she put the high heels back, and tried again everything she could to remove the jeans. It was simply impossible.
It seemed that she had no choice but to let herself go. She would take a shower in them later to clean herself, but she had to empty her bladder. She let it go, but nothing happened. The jeans were so tight, nothing was coming out!
That was just too much. She sat and tried to remove the shoes but now, they too were stuck, like glued to her feet. The jacket? Nothing more. She was stuck in her denim ensemble, and in high heels. She tried wire cutters to cut the boots zipper,but it did not even dent it.
She raised her hand, she saw herself in the mirror, with her perfect figure, tall, good looking. She also saw, standing behind her, the darn clerk, always smiling. But what was he doing in her apartment? How did he get in? She turned around to face him, but there was no one. She was alone. She looked again in the mirror, and he wasn’t there. But perhaps he was sending her some message. He might have the solution, and it was urgent she got it.
She took the bus downtown. Again, she received many compliments from many guys, but she was not in the mood to flirt. She got out of the bus and entered the store. The clerk was still there, looking exactly the same as before, as in all her sightings.
“You got to help me,” she said. “I’m stuck in these jeans, and I really need to go to the bathroom. Is there a trick or something to get them off?” she said, dancing to the full bladder feeling.
“You wore them more than three times, right?” he asked from his low pitch creepy voice, and speaking very slowly.
“Yes, yes I did.” She said quickly.
“But I had told you not to do so, right?” he asked again, as slowly.
“Yes, yes, yes, and you did it for the shoes too. You win. Now can you tell me how to remove them?”
“Oh, it’s very simple.” He said, producing a piece of paper, with text written in some foreign language, in red ink. “Just sign here.” He said, pointing at a dotted line.
“What is that? I don’t understand what’s written.”
“It says that you confirm that I had warned you about the jeans, jacket and shoes, that they were cursed and that you shouldn’t wear them more than three times.” He said, still very slowly.
“It’s a waiver? Whatever.” She said, signing her name. “Okay, it’s a sign. Now what?” she asked, putting down the pen.
“Well, just go to the bathroom.” He said, pointing a small door in the back corner of the store. Karen rushed in, and surprisingly enough, getting then jeans off was a breeze, and relieving her bladder was a blast. She could finally relax.
When she was done, she realized that the only thing she could put on was the jeans. But would she get stuck again. She was in the right place to try it. She fastened them then removed them. Four times. And she was still able to do so. Relief, she walked out of the bathroom.
She looked for the clerk, but he appeared to have gone somewhere. She calmly walked out the door. Then she had a thought. As soon as she was off this outfit, she would return to her normal self. But she wanted to keep that look. But she couldn’t spend the rest of her life wearing the same outfit. She needed more. She turned around to enter the store, but hit her nose on a locked door.
There, in front of her, a large “for rent” signs. The store was empty, the floor covered by various debris, the windows stained and dirty.
“What the heck…?” she said, trying to open the door. She was just getting out of there, how come…
“It’s locked.” Said an old lady passing behind her. “That place has been empty for the past 6 months.” She said, continuing her way.
Karen looked around in dismay. She walked the street up and down for the boutique, but couldn’t find it. All this was so weird.
She went back home, and changed to go to her classes. She couldn’t go with the tight jeans. But after a few minutes of her old self, she couldn’t stand it. She had to have the perfect look. The tight jeans look. She put the ensemble back on, and felt again sure of herself, and went to class.
All friends praised her, and she made a whole bunch of new ones. She was getting dates after dates.
That night, as she went to bed, still wearing the tight jeans, she had a thought. A distressing thought. Yes she looked awesome and wonderful, but she would be wearing the same clothes for the rest of her life. And more! With every date she would have, as soon as she would remove her jeans, she would return back to her fatty self. She would never be able to be naked in front of others. Ever!
She saw the clerk’s face as a shadow on her bedroom ceiling. This time he wasn’t smiling, but laughing. And he appeared to have small horns on his head, like… like… And she understood.
In another small town, another small used clothes store had suddenly appeared, waiting for a customer. After all, the Devil would not be satisfied with only one soul.
© Pete / monsterp63, November 2004
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