Karen – B-Movie

4
(4)

First Experiences

She hung up the phone, lifted her arms in the air and screamed while jumping around!

“I got it! I got it!” she wouldn’t stop shouting. “I got it! I got it!”

She jumped and yelled until the neighbours started to bang on their floor, ceiling and walls to have her stop.

She calmed down. Yes she had it. Finally she had a break, her first role in a movie. Okay, it was a B-movie, but it was a first role whatsoever. She had numerous little roles, merely apparitions that were often removed in the editing room. But this time, she had the lead role! It was her path to stardom. She was going to be the next Julia Roberts, the next star. Karen… Karen Star! That sounded great. Perhaps she could change her name for that.

Two weeks later, was her first day. She had a meeting with all the cast and the director to refine the dialogues. She was a star, so she quickly jumped into her unique Gucci suit. Well, a star hadn’t to present herself in a pair of jeans, wouldn’t she.

She grinned when she saw herself in the mirror. Yes, it was a Gucci suit, but it was a  used one, that was not in the very best of conditions when she bought it, and she had worn it so many times that the wear and tear was beginning to show. But that was a small drawback, since she would make enough money soon to buy the whole collection.

Chin high in the air, she entered the studio lot and confidently walked her way to the meeting room. She was late. Well, every Star has to be late, but she had a cold shower when she got in: they had begun without her.

She got a hard look from Phil, the director of the movie.

“You’re late” he said, then continued with her co-star, Lynda, giving her advice on how that character was to react to the specific situation.

Karen sat and took the script in front of her. She had read it. Well okay, partially read it. She figured that a good actress doesn’t need all that preparation, that she can get into character the moment action! is called.

When Karen’s turn came to spill out her lines, the director was not impressed.

“You didn’t read the script, don’t you?” he asked coldly. “You don’t have a clue about the character personality, right?”

“Well, yes I read the scrip…”

“Then why the hell a bum, you, would say get lost! in a highly compassionate tone?” he asked, looking at her straight in the eyes.

“Well, I…”

“Listen Karen. You were chosen because you delivered a very good performance at the auditions. You’re not a flashy star for that. Get to know your character and get here on time, or you’re fired. Understood?”

“Yes, Phil.” She said. 

He was right, but she had to get out of it in a somewhat high stand or she will be the laughing matter. “Excuse-me Phil, but are the costumes ready?” she asked, remembering that her measurements were taken, and she particularly remembered that the costume designer took the measurements with the tape rather tightly drawn. To Karen’s questioning she simply answered that the costume needed it.

“Why?” asked Phil.

“Because I think that if I’m wearing the costume, I will have a better sense of the character.” She said.

Phil paused for a moment.

“Okay take ten, everyone. I’ll get in touch with Caroline.”

Lynda, who was sitting besides Karen, leaned toward her.

“It’s your business, but you’re killing yourself here. Don’t play the Diva before you are one.”

She didn’t wait for any answer nor reaction. She took back her seat and plunged into her script. Karen did the same, and discovered some disturbing facts about her character.

Her character’s name was Sofia. She was a bum, raised in the streets in the middle of drug deals. She had close relationships with people from the Underground: prostitutes, drug dealers, homeless, etc. Then there was a murder. Sofia knows that it is more than a drug related deal turned wrong, so she decides to find the real murderer, and expose the Underground. But that might point to people that don’t want to be associated with it, and they’ll be ready for everything to get rid of Sofia. But first, they have to know what she really knows.

Phil came back.

“Okay Karen. Go to the room 36A on the F building. Caroline is waiting for you. You will have many costumes, but she’ll dress you with what you’ll wear for about half of the movie. Group, lets jump to scene 22.” He said, continuing as if Karen was already gone.

Trying to keep her head high, she went silently. The F building was located about 10 minutes walk from the main building. The room 36A was accessible directly. She entered by the back door and was greeted with racks and racks of clothes, of all kinds.

“Caroline?”

“Over here, Karen.” She heard the woman say.

Karen followed the voice and exited into a rather clear area where there was a changing booth and a make-up chair.

“Your clothes are ready in the booth.” Said Caroline. “You know, you shouldn’t start pissing off a director on your first day.” She said. “That’s very bad for future casting.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

“Don’t need to explain. Young starlets do it all the time, but you got yourself out of it rather elegantly by asking to wear the costume for the rehearsals. In your case, I think it will be a plus.”

“Yeah… a… plus…” said Karen. “And I think those jeans need a plus size. I can’t get them on, they’re too small.”

“Really, come show me.” Said Caroline.

Karen got out of the changing booth. She had her jeans up to her hips. Already the thighs appeared tight, and the leg appeared way too long.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, that’s how they’re supposed to fit. Here, let me help you.” said Caroline.

For an instant, Karen wasn’t sure, then she got it: it was a test to see how she would react. If she starts to bitch around, she will be thrown out. If not, well, better take THAT chance and not complain. She let Caroline work.

Caroline grabbed the jeans by the sides and yanked it up, effectively lifting Karen off the ground. She instructed Karen to wiggle and twist to help the too tight denim glide up. Finally, after much jumping and twisting, the crotch seam rested as high at it could go. Caroline disappeared behind her desk and came back with an eerie looking pair of ratchet pliers.

“This is what I used when I was young and I wore jeans as tight as these” she said, putting the pliers on each side of the zipper and cranking it, closing the gap.

But it was so tight that Karen feared that the jeans would rip apart, or that she would be crushed to death. She couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Are you sure this is the costume Phil expects? I mean, this is not exactly what I had pictured.” Gently said Karen.

“What have you pictured then?” asked politely Caroline while fastening the waist button. Karen felt compressed as if she was wearing a corset, and could hardly move.

“Well, she lives in the streets. I had pictured junky clothes and beat-up running shoes.” she seriously said.

“That’s because you don’t get the whole picture. It’s okay, you’re new in the business. Let me explain.” Said Caroline, while verifying if everything was falling down just right. To Karen, the legs seemed way too long.

“You’ve been raised by the Underground World, a world of prostitutes, strippers, drug addicts, pushers and homeless to name a few. You identify yourself to the only women you know: the prostitutes and strippers. All they wear is tight fitting sexy clothes and high heels. You know them and respect them. After all, they’re all your step mothers and sisters of the world.

But you’re a bum, so you’re not about to wear those stretchy and flashy dresses and pants. You’re going to wear bum clothes, jeans and leather, right.?”

“Right.” Said Karen, approving.

“So you’re going to wear jeans, tight jeans because you’re convinced that you’re as sexy as them, and you ought to show it.”

“Right,” said Karen, “but stretch jea…”

“No. Of course not. Stretch denim is for the weak. You’re a tough bum. You’re not about to wear easy going stretch jeans. No, you choose non-stretch jeans, and wear them extremely tight, showing the world that going extreme doesn’t scare you. You wear what almost nobody would wear in similar circumstances, and you live proud in it. It’s the same with your shoes.” She said, again going behind her desk and coming back with a large box. She put in on the table and produced a pair of knee high platform boots with a spiky six inches heels. Although the boots were new, they had been worn out to show that she’s been wearing them for long. Only the new sole showed the otherwise new condition of the boots.

Karen went wide-eyed.

“High heels?”

“Of course Karen. All the women you know wear them. The only shoes they could provide you with were their old ones. So, as long as you can remember, you’ve been wearing high heels shoes. Leather boots are synonymous with tough. You couldn’t simply wear fancy high heels. You’re a bum, so you have to wear tough boots, hence the platform. Stable, solid, sturdy. The heel is larger than a stiletto heel, and you’ve been known to put it through some bad guy’s throat, or to crush their balls with the platform sole, which is also very good as kicking butts. Come on, I’ll help you with the boots. You will have time to get accustomed to them while I fix you with the rest of your costume.”

Not really believing what was happening, Karen leaned on a nearby stool while Caroline put the boots on and laced them tightly before rolling down the jeans over them. When she stood up, she had to get accustomed to her new height and her new center of gravity. She got a hold of the stool.

Her upper body was naked except for her bra. She had a glimpse of her figure in the mirror and was stunned. The tight jeans gave her incredibly looking legs, and the platform high heels gave her longer legs that she had ever seen.

Caroline came with a dirty looking white cotton shirt with long sleeves.

“Don’t worry, the dirt is make up for the costume.” She said, instructing her to remove her bra.

“You won’t need it with it.”

“Aren’t Sofia’s wearing t-shirts?… and I think those sleeves are too small.” She said, struggling to get her hands through the wrist opening.

“Yes, and it will look like a t-shirt. But to help you put the leather jacket on, long sleeves are a must, and no they’re not too small, nor the shirt for that matter. That’s the way it’s supposed to fit.”

Karen rolled her eyes. Yes she had finally put her hands through the sleeves, but she was having a hard time rolling the shirt down. Now she understood why Caroline had her remove her bra: the shirt was so tight, she didn’t need any.

The shirt went down about an inch short the waist band of the jeans. It was slightly stretchy, but mostly constricting.

“Gee. I’m afraid I will rip it open with each breath.” Said Karen.

“Don’t worry, it’s reinforced with nylon. Now the jacket.” She said, tending again a worn-out looking garment. 

It had a high waist, almost bolero style, and was stopping just higher than the jeans waistband. Karen couldn’t believe how tight the sleeves were.

“Don’t worry too much, leather tends to stretch a little.” Said Caroline.

Karen stood there in front of the mirror. She was stunningly looking, but as stiff as she was plaster cast. She tried to move: she could barely cross her arms in front of her. Walking was difficult in the high heels and the jeans were so tight that she had to rock her hips back and forth to move her leg.

“Doesn’t feel quite adapted for fighting.” She said.

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse. You’ll get used to it. Just think about all those that have to wear heavy make-up, like the Klingons, or Michelle Pfiffer as the Catwoman, who had to cope with a latex hood, a corset and high heels.”

Karen thought that she was right. She would have to adapt. She tanked Caroline and headed back to the conference room. The trip was not easy. All this new clothes, all this new way of walking. She felt totally stupid, but the rubbing of the extremely tight jeans at the crotch, created some disturbing sensations.

All went silent when she entered the room, panting. Her lungs didn’t have enough space to expand and she had difficulties catching her breath. She took back her seat, or rather leaned on it. She was so stiff that she couldn’t sit straight.

“Okay,” said Phil, “now that our STAR is back, can we continue with the first scene, where you meet Lynda, or rather Suzan. You arrive with Jack on his motorcycle. Suzy is parading in spandex jeans in front of the club to attract customers. When the bike stops, you get off and run into Suzy’s arms.”

Jack – “Hi Milady. Anything happening tonight?”

Suzan – “Hi folks. I missed you. Oh, Sophia, are you alright?”

“Sophia jumps off the motorcycle, and runs to Suzy and they enlace”, commented Phil.

Suzan – “I hate it when you’re going to a delivery like that.”

Sophia – “No sweat… Suzan, everything was… fine, and I was… there if anything should… happen to Jack.”

Everybody looked at Karen, who raised her head off the script, wondering why it was suddenly all silent.

“Something… wrong?” she asked.

“Why do you cut your phrases like that?”

“That? Because I can’t… breath. I have to catch my… breath. These clothes are… too tight. Are… you sure they’re… right?”

It was obvious that she was trying to expand her lungs as much as possible, but the tight shirt was not allowing it.

“Yes, I think they fit Sophia’s character.”

“I see. Then I… seriously wonder how… I would be able to… deliver my lines.” Said Karen.

Phil’s cell phone rang. While he answered, Lynda leaned over Karen.

“I heard Sophia was wearing tight clothes, but geesh…”

“Okay gang, listen up. Apparently we have a major problem with the set, so the shooting scheduled for tomorrow is postponed to next week. I’m moving the whole schedule next Monday so be here at 08:00 sharp. In the meantime, I STRONGLY suggest Karen to stay here and spend as much time as possible in the costume to get used to it. The rest of you, you’re free to go.”

Everybody left the room. Karen was the last one, struggling to get up, already panting.

“I’ll think I’ll take Phil’s advice for myself too: better practice with my costume.” Said Lynda.

“Why?” asked Karen. “You don’t wear anything remotely… as tight as that.”

“No, I’m mainly in spandex, but always with high heels. Suzy aims to become the best stripper of the world, so she dresses accordingly. I never wore high heels higher than two inches. Better get some practice.” She said, walking along Karen.

Karen was walking slowly with small steps, and she was sometimes quickly putting her hand to her crotch with a grin.

“Something wrong?” asked Lynda.

“N… no, not really. Just a few items I have to get used to.”

With every step, Karen had to rock her hips. Her extremely tight jeans were creating one crease under the most backward bun with each step, squishing it. It was looking for a place to go, to expand, but there was none. It simply increased the pressure, then released it when the leg was forward, creating some kind of unique massage. And the high heels were forcing her to keep her thighs muscled working, adding to the pressure inside the tight legs of the jeans.

And then there was the extremely tight shirt, squishing her chest, her breast. With each breath, it was squishing and releasing them, like huge hands massaging them.

Halfway to the costume dept, she stopped dead on her track, panting, eyes wide open, red faced.

“Something wrong?” inquired a concerned Lynda.

Karen didn’t answer. She simply made one more step and stopped, closing her eyes and letting go a low pitch long grunt.

“Karen?”

Karen looked at Lynda, wide eyes.

“I just had the most incredible orgasm I ever had.” She softly whispered.

.

Learning and Appreciating

Following Karen, Lynda met Caroline. Immediately, she was presented with a bunch of clothes to put on.

There was first a pair of spandex jeans. Lynda took them in the air and looked at the narrow legs.

“I’m supposed to fit in those?” she asked.

“Of course.” Answered Caroline. “These are made to be worn tight, they’re very stretchy.”

Following was a halter top shirt, of a mate blend of cotton and spandex. Of course, the footwear was high heels; knee high boots with a stiletto 4.5 inches heel.

Putting the pants on demanded a lot of struggle. They were really tight, but the look was awesome. They were dark red, almost burgundy. The tight fit removed any wrinkles. And the feeling of rubbing her hand on her silky covered thighs was almost a turn-on.

Together with Karen, they went for a walk around the studios. They were making head turns and were checked more than once by the security personnel. Each time, they had to show their badges and told that they were wearing costumes that they had to get accustomed to.

They got whistled quite a few times too. At first, they were shy, but they started to like it and act accordingly, each one entering more into their respective character.

Day after day, they got used to walking in high heels, getting up and down stairs, even running. Karen had the hardest time. Her tight clothes greatly impaired her freedom of movements. But the most important, Karen had learned to control her urges. That was hard, and she was devastatingly hot when she got back home, but she managed.

One week has passed. They were back in the briefing room to rehearse the dialogue. This time, everything went well, and Karen showed that she was up to the role. Even Phil was impressed.

First day of shooting.

Karen was slowly walking back and forth, getting acquainted with her costume. The first scene they had rehearsed earlier. All she had to do was get off the bike and run into Suzy’s arms.

Action was called.

The bike stopped, and Karen got off, or tried to. She put her right foot on the floor, but when it was time to get the other one, she couldn’t raise her leg high enough. She was tipped to the side and fell face first on the sidewalk.

“Cut! What’s the matter, Karen.” Said Phil with a harsh tone. “Never got off a bike before?”

“I did.” Said an angry Karen, “but while wearing those jeans that are too tight to do it.”.

“There you go again, complaining about your costume. Is that all you can do?”

Quickly thinking, Karen realized that she could run into a dangerous slope with that conversation. She had to find a way out, and the best way, the way she was sure any Jennifer Aniston or Sandra Bullock would do, is to come up with a solution.

“I have an idea. Let’s do that again.” She said, giving a slap on Jack‘s shoulder.

She had had a hard time just getting on the bike, but she had an idea. She walked a few steps back, directly in line with the back of the bike, walked fast, but her hands on the seat, pushed and jumped on it. She fell pretty much at the right place.

Jack rolled on and stopped in front of Suzy, where to get off, Karen put her hands in front of her on the seat and pushed herself off the bike, directly in line at the back of it. But she landed on her heels, lost balance and with an ungracious twist, she turned on herself and regained her balance.

“Not exactly it, but I like the idea.” Said a cold Phil. “Practice it.”

Karen did the trick again and again, but it was always ending in the same manner. She had to find a way. Then, Jack had an idea.

“Listen Karen, you seem to always land backward, and you can’t get any forward momentum. Instead of stopping hard, I’ll stop gently. Then push yourself off the bike while I’m still slightly moving. That should give you enough forward momentum to counteract the back push you give. What do you say?”

“I like it. Let’s try that.” She said, excited.

The first try was much better, although she needed five more tries to nail it perfectly. The shot was called and the camera rolled. The bike slowed down, Karen jumped off and on the momentum started to walk fast to Suzy, where they embraced.

“Cut! Perfect, that was perfect. I really like that bike off thing. I’ll think we’ll include a few more scenes like that. I like it” said Phil. Then “Okay, next scene guys.” He yelled.

The next scene didn’t involve Karen, but the one after that did. That’s when the bad guys killed Jack. She had to fight with one, obviously winning the fight. But when it was time to kick the bad guy in the stomach, the highest she could hit was his knee.

“She won’t be able to hit me any higher” said the stuntman, “her jeans are too tight to allow that kind of flexibility.”

“I can’t change the wardrobe.” Coldly said Phil. “Find a way.”

The stuntman told Karen that if she could use a prop, either a stick, a box, anything she could get a hold on, she would be able to take some air and hit as high as the face.

They tried by moving their fight closer to a handrail. Karen grabbed it and pushed herself in the air, high enough to hit her stomach.

“Very good.” Said the stuntman. “With practice, you’ll be able to hit me in the face.”

So the scene was shot, repeatedly, from different angles, and with modification to the choreography on the fight. A garbage can was added so Karen would have more stuff to help her jump. That became her signature fight.

  At the end of the shoot, the camera operator chatted with Phil, showing him something.

“Karen, do you need to pee or something?”

“What? No wh…” 

She noticed that there was a wet spot at her crotch.

“Oh shit. What is that?” she said, knowing perfectly what it was. All that moving and that stretching were causing quite a rubbing at her crotch.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t show on camera. Could you please empty your bladder and dry this up? Caroline, a hand please?” he said to the costume woman present on the set.

Caroline led Karen to the restrooms.

“Get your pants down, I’ll dry this up.” She said picking a hair dryer. Karen was blushing.

“I… It’s not…”

“It’s not urine. Don’t worry, I know. Remember I told you that I used to wear jeans that tight a while ago.” She said with a wink.

Once the jeans were dried, she took two women’s personal hygiene pads, removed the plastic liner on one and slapped on top of the other one before handing it to Karen.

“There. Put these in your panties. It should hold the… juice.” She said with a wink.

Karen complied, not really sure if she should be ashamed or glad.

“Have fun while you can.” Said Caroline once the jeans were all buckled up. “You won’t be able to wear that on the street too often.”

Karen understood why. Not much can be done without help in those.

Going deeper

The week went by rather well. Karen surprised everyone with her ability to cope with her very strict costume, and deliver rather impressive action scenes. And more, she really started to appreciate her costume, so much that she somewhat felt naked when not wearing it. Over the weekend, she browsed the stores in search of tight jeans, and to even her surprise, high heels. She bought four inches pumps she started to wear alone at home, and stretch jeans, but three sizes smaller than her regular’s.

On the movie shoot, things became darker and intense. Sophia discovers that the person who called the hit on Jack is none other than the fetish boutique owner, and his wife, Mistress Michelle. When she confronts them, she is quickly taken over, forced to dress into a tight latex catsuit, complete with hood and gag, and tied on a X-frame, two feet off the floor.

Karen was fine with that, after all, it was just acting, but she had second thoughts when she was to put on the rubber suit: the crotch was equipped with two huge rubber dildos.

“Are you nuts?” asked Karen to Caroline.

“I’m terribly sorry.” She said, “but that’s the only one they had on your size. We don’t have the money to have one custom made, and we can’t delay the movie to wait for another one to come from overseas. It’s not that bad, it will even be more… pleasurable.” Said Caroline with a wink.

“Sure you haven’t planned all this?” asked Karen.

“Me? Why should I do that?” she said with a corner smile. Karen trusted her. If the story was true, she had to cope with it. If Caroline did that on purpose, better enjoy it.”

She was fitted with the suit, rather tight, that had attached feet and gloves. Then a tight corset was put on. She rather liked it, bringing back the missed feeling of the tight jeans, not counting that it compressed her organs on the dildos. A wide leather collar was applied to complete the outfit.

“Don’t worry, we’re the only two to know about those… intruders.” Said Caroline while accompanying Karen to the set.

Once in place, Karen was fitted with knee high ballet toe boots, a hood with eyes and mouth holes. She was then carefully put on the X frame, and secured with numerous straps, all locks with small padlocks. When she was released, she could barely move.

The shot was called. Mistress Michelle approached with a cane and slapped her on the corset.

“You’re too nosy, Sophia.” She said. “You should learn to stand clear when it’s none of your business.”

“I’m not out of the loop yet.” Said Sophia “I’ll get you as soon as I’ll get out of here.” She said, then started to yell “Help! Suzy, I’m here! Quick help! Call the cops!” Hel…”

But before she could add anything, Mistress Michelle had stuffed a large ball gag in her mouth, and tightly fastened the head harness before locking it. The harness also allowed for a blindfold to be snapped on. Mistress Michelle told her the remaining lines of dialogue, or rather monologue before putting the blindfold in place.

There was a long shot taken with Sophia, alone trying to get free, struggling against her bonds.

“And… cut! Perfect. We keep that one. Take 10 everyone.”

An assistant went to Karen and removed the blindfold.

“Can you hang in there for ten minutes? It will take longer than that to get you off it.”

Karen nodded yes and mumbled something, but the assistant didn’t understand a word.

“Very good then.”

“Karen mumbled even more, asking for at least to remove the gag, but the assistant turned away.”

“Well, only 10 minutes” she said to herself.

Fifteen minutes later, the shoot was restarting. In the movie, Sophia would have been held prisoner for almost 24 hours, and Suzy was coming to rescue her. She was sneaking into the dungeon, browsing around to find the keys and free Sophia.

Lynda did just that, sneaking in, trying to make as little noise as possible on her metal spiky heels. She opened the wooden box to retrieve the keys but stopped.

“Err… ‘Scuse me Phil, but where are the keys?”

“Cut! Mike? The keys of the locks please?”

“I put them there this morning… I think.”

“Well, better think fast, we need them NOW.” Said Phil, angry.

Suddenly, everyone forgot about Karen and looked for the keys, and time went by. Almost an hour had gone, and it was lunch time.

“Okay, lunch everyone. We’ll recap afterwards. In the meantime Mike, get me some keys.”

They all left the lot, forgetting that the one needing the keys was still hanging on the wall…

She was there, alone, unable to call for help. The huge dildos were getting quite disturbing, and she moved her hips as much as the restraints allowed her to. That created a very pleasant sensation. Slowly, she moved, stronger, faster, until she climaxed. She never felt anything like that. Being encased in this tight rubber, held immobile, feeling her feet pointing, her waist crushed, it was the best feeling, the strongest orgasm she ever felt. She relaxed and even surprised herself to doze off afterwards.

An hour and a half later, Phil entered the set and saw Karen hanging there.

“Oh shit! Karen! Are you all right? I’m sorry, I totally forgot about you.”

She nodded that she was okay. Phil tried to remove the gag, but was also locked.

“Mike! Where is that moron? Mike, the keys!”

“Yes Phil, I found them. Somewhat, they ended up in the trash can. There you go.”

Phil headed for Karen but when he tried to remove the gag, she nodded no.

“You want to keep it?” asked a puzzled Phil.

She nodded yes and then pointed hard with her eyes to the camera.

“Yes, I get it. You want that shoot to be over ASAP.”

Karen nodded yes.

“Okay, everybody in place… Action.”

This time, Suzy found the keys and released Sophia. She couldn’t walk on the ballet toe boots, so Suzy had to help her to the nearest bench, a bondage bench, with the edge filled with D rings. Sophia sat on it, and Suzy removed the gag. They exchanged their dialogue and the scene was cut.

“Very good. How are you feeling, Karen. Oh, I’m so sorry.” Said Phil.

“I’m fine.” She said, working her mouth to remove the gag sensation. “Can I get out of this?”

“Well, according to the script, you get out of the suit and back into your jeans for the final fight. The take is perfect, so yes, you’re free.” Then getting up.

“Listen everyone, I think Karen had enough for the day. We’ll jump to the scenes where she’s not needed and give her a break.” Then turning to Karen .”Go back home and come back tomorrow, sweety.” He said with a wink.

Back in the dressing room, Caroline helped Karen get off the latex catsuit. She didn’t say a comment when the juice covered dildos were removed. Karen dressed up with her normal clothes, stretch tight jeans and T shirt, took her purse and headed for the door. Caroline approached her.

“So, how was it? Tell me the truth?”

“Fine.” She said, but Caroline made angry eyes.

“Okay, it was great. I never experience anything like that. Only one question: I saw Mike look into that trash can about 10 times, but never found anything before coming back from lunch. Any insight on that?”

“Are you insinuating that I did it? How rude.” She said, laughing. Karen had her answer.

There was about two weeks more of shooting and then it was over. She got back home. There was still about six months of post-production before the movie would be shown in theaters.

But she didn’t lose a minute. She kept her small apartment, not knowing the outcome, but she bought a couple of pairs of jeans, and even a catsuit with built-in dildos. In the following weeks, she added the heels and the corsets and the gag. Of course the fit of the jeans were not the same. That was until she received a letter. The sender hasn’t left the address, but inside was the form with the complete measurements for the jeans used in the movie, along with the plans of the ratchet pliers that Caroline used. 

She had everything made. Of course, she had to choose carefully when she were to wear them, although she knew what she was capable of in them…

Finally, the movie was on. It wasn’t a success, it was an astounding hit! Everywhere they talked only of Sophia. She was invited on talk shows and press conferences, and the most often question was how she managed to do all this in jeans that tight, and if there were any camera tricks. Her answer that it was all true, and she hadn’t once worn stretch or modified jeans, astounded everyone.

So much that a second movie was commissioned. It too was an astounding success, even more since she started to wear extra tight leather jeans.

She started to get out in the open more and more in tight jeans and high heels, and she saw the trend pick up. Yes, there were already the tight stretch jeans in fashion, but now girls and women of all ages were coming back to the non-stretch version, the Sophia’s  version.

Karen didn’t become known as the “new sex symbol” but as “tightest jeans gals of Hollywood”.

© Pete / monsterp63, January 3, 2006

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