hey, do you think you can create a forced transformation story, and include glasses in it?
You sighed softly as your boyfriend poked at your stomach once more, interrupting your ability to focus on the TV show you were trying to watch. You groaned as you glanced over, only sighing as the other man grinned back at you with the devious glint in his eyes. Immediately, you knew that he was up to no good, and he was undoubtedly going to give you some trouble for the rest of the night.
"Hey, babe… so you know how I said I didn't need any gifts for my birthday…?"
Your brows furrowed as you stared back at your boyfriend, your mind flicking back to the pile of gifts you had gotten him to celebrate, even when he asked for "nothing." It was routine for you at this point, although you would have preferred not to go through the extra guesswork. At times, it could feel like your boyfriend was testing you, trying to see if you remembered all the little bits and pieces he brought up in conversation to see if you were listening. But you had gotten better at it over time, and tonight had been a resounding success. He had loved all the gifts you had given, so why was he bringing up the presents now?
"Yes… And I thought you liked all the stuff that I got you," you countered, staring back at the other man with a raised brow.
But your boyfriend only giggled as he reached behind his pillow, pulling out a wrapped box with a bow on top. "I did! I promise, I did. But I was actually thinking about having something else, and I think this could do the trick."
You stared blankly at the box, only taking it when your boyfriend offered it to you. As you unwrapped the slim container, your mind raced through all the different things that your boyfriend could have wanted that you weren't aware of. And if it was a gift for him, why did he want you to unwrap it? Popping open the small box, you saw a pair of glasses sitting neatly in the center. It looked like it came from a reputable brand, originating from a company called "Stud Specs." But there was a flicker of confusion that lingered on your face. Neither of you wore glasses or even needed them. And as far as you knew, your boyfriend didn't have any trouble with his vision. You conveyed as much to him, but the other man only shook his head with a light laugh.
"They're not for me, silly! They're for you!"
A flicker of annoyance lingered in your eyes as you picked up the glasses, looking them over carefully. There was nothing unusual about them; just a standard pair of prescription glasses. They weren't cool shades or stylish rims to appear fashionable. They were just… glasses. Your face clearly showed your displeasure, and you countered that you didn't need them, since you could see just fine.
But your boyfriend was bouncing on the edge of his seat, gesturing at them wildly as it sat in your lap. "Please, can you just try them on? I had them specially made for you! They're custom!"
"Why would I need custom glasses? I can see just fine!"
"But it's a gift for me! I just want to see what you look like with them on. Here, I'll help."
"No, don't put them on me! I don't need glasses. Stop! I don't need prescription stuff. Get it off of—"
You grunted as your boyfriend forced the glasses onto your face. You blink out of confusion, your vision blurry and obscured for a moment. It was pretty apparent that you couldn't see clearly with them on, so you didn't understand why he was so desperate to put them on you. "I don't need these! I told you, my eyesight is fine! Why are you—?"
But your words cut off in surprise as your head began to spin. It felt like you were suddenly thrust underwater, with everything sounding more muffled and gurgling than you were used to. You could make out the inquisitive questions from your boyfriend, with him asking about how you were feeling or if "it" was already happening. But you couldn't bring yourself to reply; he sounded like he was miles away from you. Instead, there was this thumping pulse in the back of your head, a driving drum beat that pounded on your skull. And the beat was growing louder and louder.
With your vision blurry, you slumped back onto the couch with slurred words spilling from your lips. In your mind, it was like you were struggling to swim your way up from an ocean, the outpour of water keeping you from the surface. You could feel the deep pulling at you, but you didn't want to know what would happen if you sank away fully. In the meantime, like a passenger outside of your body, yet feeling every last bit of the changes, you began to witness something strange happening to your body.
The first thing you noticed was the blurriness starting to fade from your eyes. It was like someone was swapping out films in front of your eyes, adjusting your clarity and ability to see until it was crystal clear once more, as if you had never worn glasses in the first place. And yet, out of the corners of your eyes, you could see a hint of blurriness that extended just outside the borders of the rims of the glasses. But you always had 20/20 vision; so why were you suddenly able to see so clearly from the frames your boyfriend had gotten you? And then, more changes soon followed suit, before you had time to figure out the answers to your questions.
It was slow and subtle at first, nothing too abrupt. But after a few moments, you felt your body draw out a low grunt. Your socks felt too tight on your feet, as if they had shrunk in the wash or were bought several sizes too small. You grunted as you tried to pull them off, only to be greeted with the sound of ripping fabric. Staring down at your legs, you found yourself looking at something that was just a bit too big. Larger than you remembered. You wiggled your toes carefully, only watching as the fat toes brushed against each other. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you couldn't remember ever having such large clompers before.
Whatever caused your feet to blow up to this size was slowly trailing up your body. Your breaths became more ragged and unsteady, and you panted as you watched your calves balloon into rock-hard bulges, boasting of immense power and strength with just a mere step. Your body involuntarily shuddered as your thighs and hamstrings began to lengthen. You grunted again as you felt your body stretch, the bones in your spine popping and cracking as inches stacked onto your new height. "W-What… h-happening to me…?" you groaned as you stared dumbly at your changing body. You could sense your boyfriend saying something next to you, but your brain was far too muddled and cloudy to make sense of his words.
Your moans began to deepen, a husky and gruff tone overtaking your lewd noises as your hips began to rock upwards with the shifting changes. Your eyes widened as you tilted your head down, staring at your crotch. While you had on shorts, the fabric was originally quite loose and comfortable to slip into. But this had changed the moment your quads thickened with an abundance of muscles, steady and firm like concrete pillars. Grimacing at the tightening feeling of the shorts clamping down on your legs, you reached out with one of your hands to tug at the fabric. Unfortunately, the mere act of doing so caused the strained shorts to tear, and you pulled away a flimsy piece of cloth. Your legs bloomed with the extra freedom, fat and muscle stacking once more until you had legs and some juicy ass cheeks that rivaled even the most professional bodybuilders.
The change continued along your crotch, causing your balls to swell and pump your body full of testosterone. While the process had been slower and steadier at first, the excess hormones soon accelerated the growth at a rapid pace. Low moans spilled from your lips as you watched your cock stiffen and lengthen with each passing second. While you thought you were simply growing aroused, it was stretching and fattening into a new girthy size. Thick globs of precum splattered forward from that fat cock slit, dripping over your newly defined cum gutters. The hair around your crotch began to thicken, forming a dense mat of fur that was ripe with your musk.
Moaning as one hand began pumping and stroking away at your fat cock, you watched as cum dribbled out of the thick cock to offer as lube over your thickening fingers. You had prided yourself on your slim and dexterous fingers, allowing you to take on more tactile and delicate tasks. But now, these fingers had grown into stocky, meaty sausages, like chunky rolls that were good for stuffing up tight holes and fingering needy boys when they begged you to fuck them.
Where… where did that thought come from? I don't… I don't think like that!
Shuddering as you tried to clear your head of such strange thoughts, you felt them starting to creep back in like the tide at the sandy shore. One moment, you had a lucid frame of thinking, trying to piece out why your body was transforming into the next Mr. Olympia. And the next, your head felt dumber than a bag of rocks, with low chuckles slipping from your lips as you played with your messy cum gutters and smeared that sticky cum over your bumpy abs. You loved the feeling of running your fingers over your abs, groaning as you played with a definition that you never had before. Whatever was happening was making your body big and beefy, and you loved every second of it.
No wait, this isn't right! This isn't me! Help–!
Your internal thoughts soon melted away like bubbles rising to the surface of the murky depths, popping once they were exposed to air. Whatever struggles and concerns you had quickly faded the moment you watched your chest blow up into big, meaty airbags. You hadn't even realized when you had torn away your shirt, only that it had been ripped off in favor of witnessing your body transform into something beautiful, like a work of art. Your draining head could only admire how big your pecs had become, and how fun it was to poke and squeeze at them. Chuckling as you pinched your sensitive nipples, you watched as your cock twitched once more from the added stimulation. These pecs were meant to be pleasured, and you couldn't wait for someone to feast away on them later. A light dusting of hair began to coat your body, changing your formerly smooth skin into something more rugged and tanned. Now you looked like a man who spent the days out in the sun, lifting, tanning, and working out to work up a nice sweat.
Your moans grew louder as your arms began to thicken up and stiffen into meaty limbs. You could feel the strength coursing underneath your fingertips, and it was only natural that your biceps and triceps showed off all that hard work you put into building up this body. Memories of yourself spending time at the gym, lifting and slamming weights, routine workouts, and nutritional plans began to fill up that empty head of yours, and you let out a dumb laugh as you raised your biceps up to show them off to your boyfriend in a firm flex.Â
"Haur hurh… Dude, I’m… gettin’ so big, bro…” A single strand of drool slipped out the front of your lips as you forgot to close your mouth after flexing, and you smiled as the dribble landed right in between those beefy tits of yours.
Your boyfriend could barely contain himself, leaning forward to press a tender kiss onto your nipple. He giggled softly as he let his tongue tease along the puffy areola, his devious eyes looking up at you through your new glasses. "Sorry, babe. I know this is a big shock to you, but all I really wanted was a big, dumb, meaty jock of a boyfriend. And now, with the custom glasses I got you, I have everything I wanted! Isn't this just the best birthday gift for me?"
Unfortunately, neither of you had realized that he had bought a templated set of glasses, not the custom set that he had originally designed. There was still something left to trigger inside that empty head of yours, and you could only gasp as the murky depths in your mind began to seep into your consciousness. Feelings of compassion and love for your boyfriend started to be tainted by a strange, new feeling. It was tinted with a need to be in control, with the desire to punish your boyfriend for making you go through these unwanted changes, and with the drive to show him who was the real boss.
Your eyes glanced down at him with a sneer starting to form on your lips. Your big, meaty hands reached down to grip your boyfriend's slim waist, holding him steady on top of your lap as you pushed his legs apart. You hooked his slim legs over yours, keeping his stance wide so he couldn't wriggle away from you this time. "You did this to me…" You growled, your expression darkening into something more disappointed and annoyed at this silly boy thinking that he could take you on. "After everything I did for you. You didn't like my gifts or somethin'? You tryna be ungrateful and shit?"
There was a hint of satisfaction in your chest as you watched the color start to drain from your boyfriend's eyes, a flicker of fear and panic taking place as he realized something was off. "W-Wait, this isn't… y-you're supposed to listen to me! Why aren't you— I'm the one in charge!"
Snorting at the other's whining, you rolled your eyes as you began tugging down your boyfriend's pants. You didn't care if you ripped them or if he took them off himself. When it came to things that you wanted, you always got your way. "Right, like anyone would think that. Look at that little cock of yours. And that fat ass. I bet you were hoping for someone like me to take charge, to be the one to fuck you silly until I made you pay for all this," you growled as your fat cock sprang up to slap at your boyfriend's cheeks. There was a soft whimper and a little noise of surprise that slipped out of the other man, and you could only smirk, knowing that he knew you were right.
As you began pushing your newly fattened and lengthened cock into your lover, you could feel yourself changing into this more dominant, alpha personality. You were cocky and confident, dominant and controlling, and while you might have looked like you had all the smarts with your glasses, you couldn't manage much else beyond lifting and fucking. But that was fine by you; in fact, this life was great! With a killer body and boys lining up to have a taste of the new and confident you, you couldn't care less about what anyone had to think. And plenty of guys were willing to do the thinking for you, especially when you told them to.
With the sound of the other man's cheeks plapping against your lap, your memories of your boyfriend began to slip away into something more raw and primal. Right, this was just another one of those needy whores who were just aching for a cock to spear their tight hole on a Wednesday night. It was almost laughable how easy it was to breed them, but a hole was a hole, and you weren't complaining. Anything to get your rocks off was fine by you, as you were constantly horny and needed to blow your load multiple times a day. And a hole was better than using your own hand.Â
When you finally came, you came hard and deep, making sure to drive every last inch of your cock inside of the little slut until he was satisfied. You smirked as you pushed him off of you, watching the dude quiver and moan into the couch as your seed leaked out of that stretched hole. Another night well spent, and you grabbed at his shirt to wipe your cock dry. Picking up your tattered clothes, you grunted as you slipped on your underwear. Thankfully, you still had your gym clothes in your car, so you didn't have to deal with the awkwardness of driving home in the nude. It wouldn't have been the first time that happened, though.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the little man whimpering and struggling to push himself up, his words slurred together, and his eyes cross-eyed from the intense fucking you gifted him. "W-Wait… w-where you goin', babe? Aren't you… staying?"
You didn't bother hiding the snort of amusement as you rolled your eyes at him, pushing up your glasses higher on the bridge of your nose as they had slipped down a bit during your fucking session. Seriously? All these sluts are the fuckin' same. Desperate to have me be their boyfriend or some shit. "I'm not your lover, bro. I'm just here for a piece of that hot ass, and you got a piece of my fat cock. It's a hook-up, not a date. And you should be grateful I even bothered to swing by to give you a chance. I don't let just anybody take a ride on this dick," you teased as you groped at your still semi-hard cock.
"Here, I'll let you keep this as a memento," you continued, opting to rip the underwear you had just put on clean off your body. Tossing the damp piece of cloth onto the other man's spent face, you waved your hand as you strolled out of the apartment. You didn't even bother to look back as you called out from the front door…
"Happy birthday, bro! Bet you got what you wanted!"
