All characters, acts and places are fictional in this story. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Fourteen-year-old Dustin's eager to belong to the In-Crowd and tries to fade his jeans out with CHEER detergent. When his plan fails and he becomes frustrated, Dustin suddenly finds a newfound appreciation for his jeans more fulfilling than he could've imagined.
I do not own CHEER or its commercials. This is a Fantasy story. The main actor was not named yet I have chosen to call him Dustin. I was inspired to write this story after searching for the original 2001 "Cool Kids" commercial on YouTube. A complaint at P&G was made about it promoting bullying and the original spot was pulled. The edited version now entitled "Storefront".
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Dustin's Jeans
By James Jenkins
"Shit! Wasn't supposed to be like this!" Dustin cursed, yanking the damp dark blue jeans out from the washing machine where it had tossed mixed with CHEER detergent to fade them out, a very stupid move. The spiky haired boy held them in the air, the excess liquid dripping off the still dark material. The three words reading HELPS PREVENTS FADING, nearly had him fuming. Standing in his red briefs feeling like a dunce, Dustin cast the jeans on the floor and stomped on them totally pissed.
The searing insult from the cute blonde girl he secretly crushed on rang in his ears.
"I guess someone hasn't heard of the faded look." All the cool kids laughed at him as if he walked into school wearing no pants at all.
Then, with his slightly angry hands, he took the jeans and twisted them on itself to drain the excess of water out, before throwing it in the tumble dryer and setting it for one hour at high temperature. An hour later, with excitement, Dustin opened the door and took the piece of dark denim in his hands, feeling it, smelling it, stretching it.
It looked like any regular pair of jeans, except not the type the cool crews at school were sporting, as if it was the Scarlett Letter. He walked back to the kitchen, his sock-covered feet gliding on the wood floor, and his butt, tightly encased in denim, wiggling along the way.
Dustin loved tight jeans. He was living for it. Right now, he was wearing what many would call tight jeans, what some would consider tight ones, and what he thought as snug fitting jeans (even if they were lame). He liked them tight, and the tighter the better, but the trouble was to put them on. The tighter they were, the more difficult they were to put on.
He dreamed of being dressed in denim where he would be covered in blue, from neck to toe, in tight awesome denim. But how?
Weeks after the failed CHEER experiment, he finally had the answer, he hoped, as he submitted the dark jeans to Clorox bleach.
Like magic, the denim seemed to fade, but only in one direction: cross-fibers. It lost about 10% of its color but remained the same length. Dustin washed them again with detergent and fabric softener once they faded to the color he wanted. Although it remained very flexible, it has lost almost all the original color it had before the treatment. Dustin was displaying a large smile. He had finally achieved his goal. He carefully noted the recipe and went to produce it in a larger quantity.
An hour later, he was extracting a large lump of denim out of the mixture, letting them dry before putting it in the washing machine.
When the wash was done, he picked it up, revealing a denim jumpsuit, the storefront image he saw at the mall more up close than ever. Shaking from excitement, he put them on. The stretch denim was already tight, gently compressing his thighs, ass and waist, but of course, not enough to his taste. The stretching allowed him to bend easily to put on his white adidas sneakers and lacing them tightly. The tennis shoes were put under the legs of the jeans.
He raised himself up and pulled on his denim jeans to remove any unwanted wrinkle. Dustin catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He was stunningly hot. He already had a handsome shape, maintained by hours in PE class every week. He was proud of it, and proud to show it. The tight denim jeans were molding him to perfection, with the slight faded shine enhancing his wonderful curves, but it was time to go for the ultimate experience.
Dustin placed himself in front of the UV lights, and turned them on. Within a few seconds, he felt the denim starting to shrink, squeezing him, the grip tightening on him like a fish on a hook. His breath became shaky as the pleasure was building at the same time the suit was tightening. He stood still, feeling the waist shrink as if his briefs were tightening. His breath became shallower, and in shorter gasps. The denim was getting tighter and tighter around his thighs and buns. Dustin felt it ride up his crotch, squeezing it in the process.
The green-eyed teen let out a moan. His cock too was getting tightly confined. It was weird, but it was erotically awesome. After about two minutes, he didn't feel anymore tightening, indicating that the denim had stop shrinking. He turned off the light and walked away.
He moaned with every step. Every move was sending waves of pleasure, either the gentle massage on his warm crotch with each step, or the squeezing feeling on his chest with each leg movement, everything was arousing him. It wasn't long before he had his hands at his crotch, his white fingers dancing on the tight and silky denim.
Dustin walked to his room, where he collapsed on the bed, rocking himself on his stomach. He came quicker than he thought and let out longs and low pitch moans. A wet spot appeared at his crotch.
He rolled on his back with the goal of grabbing his cock, but he couldn't. The jeans were simply too tight. He couldn't bend his legs more than 90 degrees. Dustin laughed. He would have to take that into consideration for his next pair.
That's when it hit him. He tried to reach the zipper, down in the front: he reached down. He reached his dominant hand toward the zipper, but he couldn't get the jeans off! He laughed at his predicament. There he was, stuck in the tight jeans of his dream and yearning to be popular. Ironic.
Dustin got up, and with a piece of wire, he was able to grab the zipper handle, and pulled. But it didn't move. He tried harder, but the small wire unbent and slipped out of the handle. He had a closer look. The denim zipper he'd used had somewhat fused. It was now one long piece of denim, hard to open. Then the second detail hit him: with the jeans that tight, there was no way, even with the zipper down, that he could get it off. The waist would never get pass his hips, being about 12 inches smaller, tight as it was.
"I think it's not ready for the public debut yet" he said, laughing at himself.
He walked to the kitchen counter and took some scissors. Holding the scissors in his right hand, he carefully poked the denim in the palm of his left hand to make a start-up hole to cut himself loose. But the tip of the scissors wouldn't go in. The boy tried harder. He felt the tip on his palm, but it wouldn't go through the denim.
Dustin tried to cut it open with a knife, but it didn't seem to affect the denim at all. He rushed back to his sample and tried to cut it with the scissors. It did nothing. Nor did a knife, and not even a flame! Perhaps putting it back under the UV lamps would reverse the process, but his sample came out stiffer, almost rigid.
"With all the UV the sun's throwing at the Earth, you can't even go out now, dude" he said to himself.
Dustin stayed there, facing his chemistry home kit, feeling his boner starting to send signals that he needed a quickie.
"Think fast dude. Think."