Tuesday, December 11, 2012

An Optical Gift

An Optical Gift

This story is purely fictional, any characters names, situations, events and problems described are purely coincidental.

by Bobby

I fell in love for the first time when I was 5. Really! It was in the kindergarten. I started kindergarten that year as my mom thought I needed to get used to a group of children before I would start elementary school. And .. I fell in  love with a girl the very first day. I still remember her name: Martina. She was cute. Tiny girl with red hair and small glasses on her nose. We played together.
Later in the first grade of my elementary school I fell in love again. I do not remember the name of the girl, but I remember her auburn pig tails, little nose and her glasses. She wore those glasses children used to wear in the mid sixties. Rather cat eyes, brownish. She wore a grey plastic patch over her right eye. I did not know why, but I liked that. I never spoke to her. I just looked. It took one year. Ten her family moved and I have not seen her since that last day.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Dioptrio Duo

Enamored With Myopia

by Specs4ever
The church was packed. Dad had been in business in this town for 50 years, and even though he had retired 5 years ago at age 75, the townspeople and those from the surrounding countryside had packed the church out of respect. Everywhere I looked I could see the reflections glinting off the faces off the plano fronted lenses of the glasses most of the crowd wore. Oh sure, there were a few plus lenses in some of the glasses out there, but most of the crowd wore reasonably strong minus lenses. And of the 20% or so of the crowd that wasn't wearing glasses, almost all of them wore contact lenses. Dad had been very successful.

The Cane

(Note: this story is based on a concept and a short story written by a woman known as ParaGirl. I have adapted the subject matter, and added a few frills. Cathy, this is in your honor and with thanks!)

by Amy Casseaux

The whole thing began with a big shot of irony, in that I saw it by accident. I was driving along through a neighbourhood and I passed by a garage sale when I saw someone handling a white cane - the kind that blind people use.
I circled the block, trying not get excited. When I came back around the cane was leaning, fully extended, against a table. I parked by the yard sign that said ESTATE SALE and got out, pretended to look at other items first before coming to the table which not only had the cane, but a couple of Braille books and a talking watch. Then I saw the label maker. Yes, it was Braille, too! I'd hit the mother lode!

Chance Encounter

by Doreen F.

"Emma, is this you?" she heard somebody behind her and turned around.
"Julian, hi, wow it must have been years…" Emma replied when she recognised one her former school mates.
"Yes, indeed, my graduation was about ten years ago and yours nine, right?"
"Could be about right."
"What are you doing here anyway?"
"I was going to buy a new pair of glasses and I’m overwhelmed by the variety of frames. And you?"
"I just wanted to buy myself some contact lens paraphernalia, but then I saw you and hey, it’s great to see you."
"Yeah, I didn’t know you wore contacts. Erh, listen… if you could help me choose frames, I’d buy you a coffee."
"Okay, agreed."
Julian gave Emma some great advice and eventually she settled for a pair of dark red plastic frames, which they both thought looked great. Julian bought his contact lens paraphernalia and they left and went to one of the cafés.

Late One Night

by an unknown author

If I could have had those ten or so years over again I'd have done things very differently. First of all, I'd have never taken a chance on second-best. Listen to me, don't do it. What you see is what you get, no more no less. People don't change, other than getting older. When you choose a partner, and mean it to be for life, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, just make sure you get it right. I drew one good card, I got richer. He helped me achieve that. But being the ungrateful bitch that I am, that wasn't enough. Our relationship disintegrated, and there I was, a business owner, and effectively, emotionally, alone.So every day, I would leave my beautiful home, climb into my fantastic car, drive to my dreamy little store, and sell delightful bits and pieces to a wide range of interesting people. I bought lovely clothes, ate delicious food, and went to fascinating places.
And it was all so wonderful that every night I'd slip between the silk sheets of my deeply luxurious bed, and cry myself to sleep.
Yes, that's right. I married him for his money, his status, and his charm. He was, to everyone who knew me, a Good Catch. Handsome, suave, and generous. We honeymooned in Bali.

The Parable of the Eyeglasses

by Bonnie Perry

an adventist free-lance writer and homemaker living in Rockville, MD

Once upon a time, very long ago and far, far away, there was a tiny village where the villagers, for reasons one can only speculate upon, had come to the conclusion that it was a very evil thing for a person to wear (and some felt even to NEED to wear) eyeglasses.
Many of the more religious among the villagers pointed out that it was contrary to nature to wear those ugly things. Obviously God had originally intended for people to see with only their eyes. And furthermore, they reasoned, scripture was full of scathing passages referring to those who would not see. It was perfectly clear to them that these people were openly practising sin by putting on their eyeglasses, and sin was sin and could not be condoned!

The Ladies Revenge

by Specs4ever 

Julie woke up, and tried to see the numbers on the clock in her motel room. She moved her head closer and closer to the clock, and finally the numbers came into focus. This was a strange feeling for her, as Julie had enjoyed nearly perfect vision for all of her life. She blinked her eyes a few times, but the blur of things in the near distance still persisted. For the last couple of weeks Julie had noticed that her vision had been blurred, and she had been having trouble reading street signs, and other highway markers, but this morning it seemed even worse than the day before, she was having trouble seeing things clearly only a few feet from her.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Hot girl with blended myodisc glasses

Magic eyes

Memoirs of an optometrist - Brenda

by Tom the Hungarian

This happened many years ago - far more than I care to recall or admit to - in the very first year I started my practice. Patients were still far and few. Brenda was nine years old, tall an well developed for her age when she was brought to my office by her mother for an eye examination. She had a dense forest of long, curly black hair, pale skin with very red cheeks, thick red lips and burning, angry black eyes. And it was not just her eyes that were angry!
After introducing herself and her daughter, Mrs.B. announced that she wanted Brenda's vision tested because she thought she needed glasses. Brenda's response was loud and clear:
"There's nothing wrong with my eyes, I don't want them tested and I don't want glasses!"


by Doreen F.

Teresa always felt thrilled when she started to work at a new company. She would meet many people and would be shown around. Then her mentor would explain how everything worked and she'd get used to it. Then she'd stay until she found something more appealing. Her first jobs were being a waitress, but she soon got bored of that and only continued doing it as long as she was at college. Teresa often moved to other cities to get a job, she loved moving around and never had too many things to carry around. There was hardly any job which she had done for more than a year and many for a much shorter period of time.


Part 5: Philip's Story

by Jules

It had been a bad night, and it was a worse morning. Actually, it had been a bad time since my boy friend walked out of my life, six months to the day, which was what made it extra specially hellish. And it wasn’t my fault—I can’t help my bad eyesight.


Part 4: Duncan’s story

by Jules

Like all my stories, this is sheer fiction. I was never a Boy Scout, and this is probably evident to any reader who ever was!
Love and kisses, Jules.
One of the most popular Scout songs is The Quartermaster’s Store. Sooner or later it will be sung at any and every Scout gathering, and round this particular camp fire it went on for ages, as we invented more and more verses, often getting personal about one another. After each verse came the refrain:

My eyes are dim, I cannot see,

I have not got my specs with me,
I have no-ot got my-y specs with me.


Part 3: Henry’s Story

by Jules

It seemed like a good idea at the time—but I should never have married Fran. Actually I should never have married anybody. When I was at university Father Paul, the chaplain, used to say I was “one of nature’s bachelors” which was his kindly way of saying I was as queer as a three-pound note. But when you’re teaching in a Church of England high school, and think people may have noticed you have an eye for the boys—well, you hope a wedding will keep the gossips quiet. Quieter, anyway.


Part 1: Aidan’s story

by Jules

I try to stay away from those places. It isn’t my scene, not really; I don’t think it’s right. I don’t even like the smell, though it is a kind of turn-on. It’s asking for trouble—especially for somebody who’s training to be a priest.
I always take my spectacles off before I go in, because—well, you never know. My sight isn’t too bad without them, just bad enough to make the people in there look younger and more attractive. And if there was any trouble it might be better not to be able to see too much detail. And then they say nobody makes passes at guys who wear glasses.

Darcy’s Decision

by Dieter

The continuation of Darcy’s Dilemma

I work part time in an electronics store. Mostly, I assist customers with questions about games, music devices, videos, and computers. It’s the perfect job for me. I’m saving money to buy a scooter which I think will be really handy especially when I go to college. Fortunately, the business district where the store resides is only a few blocks from my house so it is within walking distance. Occasionally my dad stops in. More often I run into neighbours and friends of the family. Before that day, I would have been concerned about the possibility of someone catching me in glasses, and then discussing that fact with my parents. Not any more. I put them on, locked the front door, and headed down the street. I no longer felt constrained. I was duty-bound to complete the mission.

Darcy’s Dilemma

by Dieter

My first encounter with Parker was unimpressive. It was the second day of the new school year when he walked into the classroom. He seemed no different from any average junior in high school. Sure, I did my usual double-take when I saw that he was wearing glasses. And yes, he was cute enough, but that was the problem. My assumption was that he would not assimilate with the group of friends with which I associated. Over time I would learn that he was shy, self-conscious, and somewhat socially challenged. More importantly, I would find that there was one thing that set him apart from most boys his age. That’s when I would realize that he was everything that I had ever dreamed about having in a boyfriend.

A Lifelong Addiction To Myopia

by Specs4ever

Even after 60 years I could still remember her glasses as if it were yesterday. She was a short, slightly overweight lady with grey hair tied up in a bun on the back of her head, and she smelled like apple pie. From the time I was a baby she changed my diapers, and helped my mother raise me for a number of years. But it was always her glasses that fascinated me. The first pair I remember noticing was a rimless pair, with a silver bridge that was fastened with one screw to each lens. The temples were also fastened with a screw at each side of the lens, and they went back over her ears. When she had them off, and I was a little older I could tell that the earpieces coiled around and fitted snugly behind her ears. Later in life I found out that these were called cable temples. But it was the lenses that intrigued me. They were octagonal shaped, with six of the sides appearing to be equal in length. The center side, at the top and the bottom were longer than the others. In the center of these lenses were circles that were between 25 mm, and 30mm in diameter. Behind these lenses her eyes were minified significantly, and appeared to be shrunken back into her head. But when she took her glasses off, her eyes were very large, and were a milky blue in color.

A Double Obsession

by Specs4ever

I don’t know if I was an optically obsessed person before the summer that I was 9 years old and attended a YMCA summer camp for the month of July, or if my obsession started at that camp. I suppose it doesn’t really matter much, since this is sort of “the chicken, or the egg” type of rhetoric. I do know however that by the time I returned home after that summer I was definitely optically obsessed.
At camp the kid who bunked below me, Richard, sometimes wore glasses. He didn’t really seem to need them, because more often than not they sat, arms folded and face up, on the window ledge above his bunk. Rich had the lower bunk, I had the upper bunk, and every morning we had to roll our bedrolls tightly, snap the 2 x 4 holding the outer edge of the bunk in place out of the notch, and roll the canvas covered 2 x 4 up tightly to the wall. Then our pillow and bedroll sat neatly on the rolled canvas, and our cabin was ready for the morning inspection. And, then we would go off for breakfast, with Rich sometimes wearing his glasses, but more often, not wearing them. I was confused. I thought if you needed glasses you had to wear them, so why wasn’t Rich wearing his glasses?

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

40 Minutes Live

by Specs4ever

Why, why was I doing this?   God I felt so stupid, sitting in the hot seat, dressed in a bland off white shirt, and beige non descript slacks.  I was so nervous the sweat was building on my forehead, the heat held in by the hood that partially obscured my hair, and most of my facial features, and the strong glasses I was wearing were trying their best to slide down my nose.
Just then the familiar music started, and as it ended the announcer said. “Welcome to this evenings edition of 40 Minutes Live, with Dee Anne Slayer.  Tonight is part six of a ten part series that 40 Minutes is doing on fetishes.  The previous editions have covered the shoe fetish, the women’s undergarment fetish, the braces fetish, the breast fetish, and the tattoo and body-piercing fetish.  Tonight our episode will cover the fetish that some men and women have towards members of the opposite, and even the same sex, who wear glasses. Please give a big hand of applause to Dee Anne Slayer, and her guest, Specs4ever, noted author of many short stories that can be found on the Internet about people who wear glasses, and people who appear in public wearing strong glasses, but don’t really need them.”

Thursday, September 20, 2012

A Learning Curve

by an unknown author

The car pulled into the drive and George yawned and got out. It had been a long week, and he was looking forward to some serious downtime over the weekend, maybe even a spot of hockey. Certainly a night out with his buddies, it had been a while and they'd had to remind him they still existed.
"Hey man," the call had been from Mike "You fallen off the planet? We still meet every saturday night at Bassey's place."
George had tentatively agreed to make the effort, pleading hard work, and yet another 3 weeks had gone by. But THIS weekend he'd promised himself he'd be there.
Opening the door the cat greeted him with demands for food. He threw the mail on the table, threw his coat over a chair and just fell into a chair. The money was great in this job, but there was never any time to spend it. The stressfactor was high, every night it seemed he came home with his head throbbing, and the only cure was sleep. Not that this was difficult to acheive, within half an hour he was out cold on the couch and the next he knew it was saturday morning.


by Dieter

I had always been a tomboy, but then what girl doesn’t say that. We all think we’re a lot tougher than we really are. I’m sure I felt that way because all of the kids my age in my neighborhood were boys, at least for a block or two around my house. I never played with girls on a daily basis. I won’t say that I was a member of the "boy’s club" but for the most part my neighbors treated me like one of the guys and protected me like one of their gang. Since we lived a block from a large city park, activities were endless. There was always something to do. I wasn’t especially great at playing ball and stick sports but I was athletic. I could run, bike, swim, skate, and climb as vigorously as anyone. But at age thirteen when the boys grew taller and got stronger, I developed breasts and hips.

Down the Same Road

by Specs4ever

I looked at the glasses I was holding in my hand, and then I looked at the picture I had just scanned into my computer. The glasses were the same, but the face in the picture wearing the glasses, with her eyes minified behind the strong lenses of these glasses no longer resembled the hazel eyed strawberry blonde girl, that I had just left a couple of hours ago. Gone were the strong glasses, replaced by 12 years of contact lens wear. The strawberry blonde hair was now much shorter, and there were no more bangs touching the upper rims of the glasses. She was still about the same general slim build, and the height hadn’t changed, but the smile in the picture was something I hadn’t seen much of for the last few years. How had it happened I wondered? How had we fallen in love, married, had a wonderful daughter and at the same time destroyed all semblances of our former carefree happy selves?

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

The Pretenders

by Specs4ever

I glanced at Darla as we were sitting in the hotel room watching the television. She was really quite pretty, even though the thick biconcave myodiscs that she was wearing became the focal point of her face. I pushed my own identical –23D biconcave myodiscs a little closer to my face in order to see her features a little bit clearer. Darla was maybe an inch taller than my 5’6”, and she was a little bit heavier, probably about 135 lbs. to my 120 lbs. She had a much bigger bust, and her long jet black hair was tied back in a ponytail, whereas my mousy brown hair was cut short in sort of a pageboy style.

Holding Hands with the Dream Weaver

Holding Hands with the Dream Weaver

By Amy Casseaux

Blind Date

by Doreen F.

"Don’t worry, he’s perfect for you!" that’s what my friend Anja told me before I met my date for the evening. It was a blind date she had arranged. I would go there with her and her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s friend, my date. I did not even know her boyfriend, Alan, that well. I had seen him a couple of times, but we were usually out in a group and I had not had much of a chance to talk to him. But I wanted to have some fun, so I had agreed, when they came up with the idea of hooking me up with Alan’s friend, Leo. Hell, why shouldn’t I get lucky for once when it came to men? I was really picky when it came to boyfriends, but why should I go for less than I felt I deserved?
A blind date it was.

Melted Sand

by an unknown author

Nathan was just a regular guy who needed a job after college, and being smart enough and fit enough he'd found himself working in security. They trained him, sent him to various jobs, and it was always straightforward enough. He chased a few jerks, threatened one or two, even raised his gun once, but it was just a job, just a slightly more exciting one than most people have. When his work day was over he went home, cooked supper, and watched TV. Just like everyone else. He had a life, of sorts. But that was then.
Somehow he was singled out by his superiors as above-average. So when they were approached by a anonymous customer to find him a bodyguard Nathan was their first choice. He was offered a much higher salary, and plenty of other perks - he just saw it as a promotion, heck it boosted his ego. His love-life at that point was in a lull, so whatever, he took the job.

My Left Eye

A true story

by Dieter

My first clue was the fact that regardless of what eyewear I used, I was seeing halos around lights at night.  Since I was often doing monovision in contact lenses, it was particularly annoying.  The reason for that was simple.  My dominant eye, the one corrected for distance, could read signs and generally see well in daylight.  But at night, my vision was obscured by a haze especially from oncoming headlights when driving.  My other eye saw a blurred image anyway because it was corrected by less than one-half of the full prescription in order to see moderate distances for reading and computer use.  At my next eye exam, I found out why.  But first my optometrist gave me the ‘bad’ news.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

The Best Laid Plans

by Specs4ever

School was a real drag, so at age 17 I escaped the drudgery of learning. Why bother, I reasoned with myself, I wouldn’t ever need any of this stuff anyway. What I didn’t realize that even menial jobs require more than a grade 12 education these days. In hindsight I probably should have become an optician, or a person who worked in an optical laboratory. Glasses, and the optical properties of different lenses was the one thing that had interested me since I was a child. But, since I had a mechanical mind I became a repairman for fuel pumps at gas stations.

Because of The Sex

by Specs4ever

I sat at the writing desk with two prescription forms in front of me. One was filled out, and the other was blank. I took a black pen from the desk, and filled in numbers on the blank. The form read, OD –25.50 x +1.00 x 015 and OS – 24.50 x +0.50 x 165. The forms were identical, except for an increase of –1.25D in the spherical correction of both eyes, and I scrawled the signature on the bottom of the new one to closely match the original. When I was finished, tears streamed from my eyes behind my thick glasses, and I muttered to myself, “I am so sorry baby, please forgive me.”

Monday, September 10, 2012

A girl with myodisc glasses

What if Amelia wore glasses ...

A Family Fetish

by Specs4ever

I had been checking the mailbox as soon as I arrived back at my apartment every afternoon after class for almost a week now. Finally, the package was there. I looked at the small rectangular box, and studied the name and the logo of the sender, Optical4less. I was excited, but was also a little scared to open the box containing my newest pair of glasses. My mind raced back, back to the beginning of it all.

“Kayla!” a loud voice exclaimed. “Where did you get those glasses and why are you wearing them?”
And that, at the age of seven and one half was the start of everything. I had told my friend Tanya that I could see a whole lot better when I wore her old glasses after she had gotten her new ones a few weeks ago, and I had been wearing them in private whenever possible. But, the unthinkable had just happened. I had been reading in my bedroom, and I had nodded off to sleep. Now my dad had caught me.

Friday, September 07, 2012

Blind Vacation

Amy is a very talented author, who writes blind stories. All of her stories are taken from a website that no longer exists. I enjoyed all her stories, although some are no vanilla. So, I hope you will like them, too. This is the second I have read and the second here. 

by Amy Casseaux

The plane thundered down the runway and I felt the nose wheel leave the ground. A moment later, the rest of the wheels left the ground and we began rotating skyward. My fantasy vacation had begun. As soon as we reached altitude, I reached into my bag and removed a cassette player. John Grisham’s latest novel was on tape and I hadn’t heard it yet. My fingers crossed the Braille label and I found the first cassette. Into the player it went.

Thursday, September 06, 2012

A Progressive Migration

by Stingray aka Eye Write

I finally found a seat in the restaurant. What is the attraction here anyway? The food is lousy, albeit cheap, it's crowded and it's noisy. I was reading today's paper. Things don't look too great in Indonesia. And then she invaded my space.
I was aware that the seat next to me was vacant, but who would have the nerve to squeeze into the tiny space elbowing me in the process. She did. Not a word was uttered. There wasn't an "excuse me" or "may I sit here?". She just sat there anyway.
I glanced up from my reading to give her a hard cold look. I couldn't help but staring at her. I think it was her dark beauty that caught my attention first. It was the straight clipped frosted hair coupled with her swarthy complexion which gave her a foreign aura and an intriguing one at that. On her face were the thickest eyeglasses I have ever seen.

Heaven for your average glasses fetishist - 5

Before you start reading this story you may want to read the part 1 here. 

ALISON AND RICK (yes, them again!)

by Specfiend 

Under the cover of darkness, two figures pulled themselves over a high wall around the back of the deserted warehouse, and sprinted across the vast grounds. "How do we get inside?" the girl hissed as they came to a halt at the door and tried to open it. Locked tight.
The man took several paces back from the building and glanced up to the next floor. "There's a window open there," he observed. "We can probably shimmy up that waterpipe - it looks pretty secure, it's not likely to give way under our weight - and get into the building that way."
The girl smiled. "Sounds good to me. Let's do it."

Heaven for your average glasses fetishist - 4

Before you start reading this story you may want to read the part 1 here. 


by Christy 

At the edge of the town, on top of a hill, was an old abandoned warehouse. It had been derelict and empty for years, but suddenly activity buzzed around it as it was renovated. No one knew what it was being turned into. Curious townies questioned the constuction workers, but they denied any knowledge of the true purpose of the warehouse. No one had told them anything. A year later, renovations were complete and the place was quiet once more. The gates were always firmly closed, so everyone was still in the dark about its purpose.

Heaven for your average glasses fetishist - 3

Before you start reading this story you may want to read the part 1 here.

Yuri's Story

by Christy 

posted 05 August 2001 12:23
When they re-opened the coal mines in Scotland's industrial belt there was no shortage of labour from impoverished mining towns in the former USSR. That's where Yuri was from - and that's how he came to be working in Scotland. It was hard work and lowly-paid work but after a year of it a whole bunch of miners decided to hire a couple of coaches and head for the Highlands. Time for a holiday - time for a Highland fling! To keep costs down everyone was given some part in the organization and Yuri's job was to take care of the drinks.

Heaven for your average glasses fetishist - 2

Before you start reading this story you may want to read the part 1 here.


by Specfiend

Daniella had really been looking forward to getting her eyesight "ruined". She was hoping desperately for one of the two operations - how great would it be to come around after the anasthetic had worn off to find her surroundings foggy, only to clear as she slipped a pair of glasses on her nose?
Unfortunately, she had been told that morning that she was to be placed in the room where process four was taking place. How tedious, she thought, rolling her eyes as she walked into the room.

Heaven for your average glasses fetishist - 1


by Specfiend posted 25 July 2001 22:12

At the edge of the town, on top of a hill, was an old abandoned warehouse. It had been derelict and empty for years, but suddenly activity buzzed around it as it was renovated. No one knew what it was being turned into. Curious townies questioned the constuction workers, but they denied any knowledge of the true purpose of the warehouse. No one had told them anything.
A year later, renovations were complete and the place was quiet once more. The gates were always firmly closed, so everyone was still in the dark about its purpose.
Except for a select few.
Across the world, a small number of people suddenly received a strange silver envelope. It would come through their letterbox, or be left in their mailbox. Wherever they lived, each envelope contained the necessary number of return aeroplane tickets to Scotland, and a mysterious invitation printed on stiff white card.

You know the fantasy you've always had?
Well now you can SEE your dreams come true!
Right in front of your EYES.

Each and every person knew exactly what this "fantasy" was, and interpreted the cryptic message correctly. The majority arranged time off work to travel to Scotland, to the once-derelict warehouse in the Highlands.


by Specsfiend 
Maria was eager to please her husband. And it was clear he wasn't overjoyed with her vision.It wasn't bad enough for him.He was a closet glasses fetishist. Closet to all but her. In his opinion, the thicker the lenses, the more attractive the girl. He had been overjoyed when he'd discovered, when they first started dating, that she wore contact lenses. He'd persuaded her to get glasses "to wear occasionally" he'd said at the time. But then her contact lenses had mysteriously gone missing. He denied all knowledge of this, saying it was her own fault for being so careless.

To LUG, or Not To LUG

by Revolver

Part 1
One pretty day in early May, Agatha entered the Kaffee Klatsch room in the student union of the small south central Ohio college where she was a soon to graduate senior, and sat down at a table where four of her close friends were already seated. She greeted them all, and took a sip from her latte’ that she’d purchased at the counter on the way in, and the usual collegiate coed small talk resumed where it had ended when her friends returned the greeting.
Agatha was a unique and well rounded person, a basic optimist who was both intelligent and open minded, she was well liked. Her unusual given name had of course caused her some teasing over the years as well, tagging her with rather unfeminine nicknames like Agriculture Aggie, but she didn’t really care and laughed right along with her taggers. Aggie, you see, was named after a spinster great aunt who had passed on a few years earlier, endowing Aggie with a very comfortable endowment, which she managed wisely. It would have been tempting beyond resistance for most people to spend lavishly but in her case the large monthly checks were deposited in interest bearing accounts that were used to pay college costs while still allowing herself some indulgences. She didn’t buy the sports car she easily could have afforded, instead opting for a 5-year-old economy sedan that provided good basic transportation that she readily shared with her sorority sisters and other collegiate friends.
And when there was break in the conversation Aggie mentioned a new matter regarding transport, the renewal of her driver’s license. She was returning from the vehicle bureau where she had attempted to renew her license, only to find that she couldn’t!
“Oh my gosh, Aggie, why?” said Alison from across the table.
Breaking into a sheepish grin, Aggie leaned forward and in a conspiratorial tone whispered “Because I can’t see. I failed the eye exam, because I could only read the top line in the machine, the very biggest letters! The rest were a blur, and boy what a surprise. There assured me there wasn’t a big problem, all I had to do was return with glasses and I’d be renewed, but had to do it soon as my current license expires next week.”
A slight chuckle escaped Britta’s lips, and she smile broadly saying “been there, done that!” In the next breath Britta related how she’d gotten glasses prior to her first license exam, tried to pass without them and failed much as Aggie had, but was issued a license with a corrective lens restriction.


by Doreen F.

Simon and I had been colleagues for several years. At the beginning he had worked in Customer Support and I was in the Marketing Department. We had seen each other occasionally in the aisles of our company’s building, at the Christmas party and occasions like that. I had always thought that he was quite attractive and he was about the only one of my colleagues apart from two others who was about my age and the kind of guy I would feel attracted to. Whenever I saw him he was really nice and talkative. I heard a lot about him from other colleagues. According to them he was well-skilled and intelligent. He was Swedish, but was raised bilingually by his parents because only his father was Swedish. You could not tell he was not a native. After he had finished his studies in Stockholm he decided to go to his mother’s home country because job offers over here were much better for his qualifications. This much I had found out by talking to him occasionally.
About a year ago an older colleague of mine retired and Simon was promoted to my department. It was great, I saw him much more now. We were not in the same office, but our offices were opposite each other, so we would sometimes leave at the same time. Every now and then I got a glimpse of him through his open door. It was really nice, but I had never wanted to get involved with a colleague. Some of my friends had had really bad experiences and warned me about that. I assumed they were right even though I got weak knees whenever I saw Simon. I willed the attraction away and tried to talk to him as casually as I could and to behave normally. It was hard at the beginning, but it worked. Still I had been single for a very long time. Not that I did not like being on my own, but sometimes I was longing for someone to share my life with. I had really high standards about what my boyfriend should be like, but I had standards that had to be met. For a long time nobody had crossed my way who would nearly meet up to my expectations except Simon in my day dreams. At least I was not as frustrated as many of my friends were in their current relationships because they did not want to stay alone.

The Stewardess

by Doreen F.

Shirley still could not believe it. She was a flight-attendant now or stewardess as they used to be called. Ever since she had been a girl she had wanted to become a stewardess. Shirley loved flying and was really interested in aviation; she had never wanted to become a pilot though. After her graduation Shirley went to college to study French and Spanish. When she had her degree she immediately sent out application letters to several airlines all over Europe. British Airways offered her a job and after a long time of hard training she was a flight-attendant. At the beginning she did not really work when being on a flight, but she was there to gain experience and help the others. Little by little she became more independent and after two months she had her first real day of work. This was really exciting.

A trip home

by Amy Casseaux

"Gwen, you really need to make it this year. You haven’t been home in so long that I’ve forgotten what you look like. Every year, you’re too busy to come visit for holidays. You haven’t been to a reunion since you moved away. Five years, Gwen!"
"Mom. I just have so much on my plate right now. I’ve got my own agency to run and things are really taking off. On top of that the home office keeps inviting me back for seminars and speaking engagements. I just don’t have time."
"As the saying goes, ‘money that she cannot spend will make no woman rich.’ Gwen, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you don’t slow down. You are not superwoman."
I smiled at that. If only she knew. My family was even more in the dark figuratively than I was in the literal sense. I wasn’t superwoman, I was super blind woman!

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Lolita's story

by an unknown author

Posted to Eye Scene in July 1999 
My name is not, of course, really LOLITA but my mom started calling me that when I was 15 and it kind of stuck. So here I am, Lolita, if you please. And here is my story.
I am not the brightest girl you ever met, I'm ready to admit. I managed to get through high school but never seriously considered college. What for? All I wanted was to find a nice looking dude with a bit of money, marry him and enjoy myself for the rest of my life. What else is there to life? So I went to secretarial school and found a pretty good job with a large privately owned company. The personnel manager didn't check my credentials too closely because he was concentrating on my boobs and legs. I worked in the export department, probably because I spoke Spanish (my mom is Mexican). The boss of the department happened to be the son of the owner, a hellova handsome guy of about 25 who wore $3000 suits, had a gold Rolex watch, drove a Porsche sports car and wanted to do the least possible work at the office. Just the kind of guy I was looking for! His name was Jim and we, at the office, called him 'Jimmy Boy’. So I did my best to draw his attention, wore the shortest of skirts, tightest of tops, the highest heels, dyed my hair the oddest colors, had my nose and ears pierced for lots of rings. When I walked where he could see me a moved my hips and ass in the sexiest way I knew how. What else can a nice girl do to draw attention? Nothing worked! He paid no attention.

Imprisoned in myopia

by Stingray aka Eye Write

December 2004
I used to be one of the top models in the United States. But that was years ago before I was imprisoned. No, I didn’t spend time in prison, but wound up with a physical disability that prevented me from modeling ever again. It is not a real physical disability in the real sense of the word as you would think, but more like a real inconvenience. It happened to me 8 years ago when I was at the very top of my career.
            Perhaps you remember Anna Manlova. She was the top model to come out of then Soviet Union. We personally were just friendly rivals in a very competitive business. At Anna’s insistence, I was invited to tour Russia for a photo shoot. Having never been there, it sounded very exciting and an excellent opportunity to further my career. I never expected in a million years what would happen to me.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012


by BobD
This story is copyrighted. (c) 2001
This story may be copied and put on other sites, provided they are NOT sites that charge for viewing and this header is included.

My name is Kirsten; I’m a 20-year-old wheelchair pretender/wannabe. As a young girl, I found that wheelchairs held a certain intrigue for me that I could not understand. My mom has been in a wheelchair since she was 3, when she fell off of a table in her dad’s workshop onto a board on the floor. The small of her back landed on the board, actually a 2X4 on it’s edge, and broke her back crushing the vertebrae at the L4/L5 level severing her spinal cord and of course leaving her completely paralyzed from that point down.

The First Morph

This is probably the first morph I made. In the late 90s, there were very few pictures of girls with glasses.  Internet searching was not as easy as it is today. I wanted to have a picture of a sexy looking girl with glasses, so I created one.
As the the girl in original picture did not have any glasses at all, I had to paint the frame and the lens effect. To make it took many hours. I used Photoshop 2.5, yes a very old version on a computer with only 80386SX processor, an I was not very experienced in computer graphic. The picture is small, there is no bigger version of it. 
I love the picture. It is one of my very first work about GWG and it bring memories ...
The Internet connection was slow, charged by seconds, and unreliable. I found Vision World Forum, a BBS that consisted of one long strip of contributions, and Eyescene that was down and frozen in time those days. You may say it was not much, but I was excited, because I learned I was not alone with my love for GWG.

Glasses, Prisms and Other Things

The author of this story wants to remain completely anonymous. It looks like a real-life story. B.L.
When I was 9 years old I began noticing things getting a bit blurry in the distance and had difficulty reading small writing on the blackboard at school.
So far I had always passed the eye exam at the school every year even if the lower line was only 20/40. The next 2 smaller lines were there but the nurse never required us to read them. It's a good thing I thought as I could barely make out the 20/40 line when I was 10.
I bluffed my way along till I was 12 and finally had to get glasses. My first prescription was -2.50. I remember the doctor scolding my Mom for not bringing me in earlier.

Allison & Rick - SuperHyperopicSuperheroes

by Specfiend 

(originally posted to Eye Scene 03 July 2001)
This is the next part of the story, began in "The Terrifying Test". Allison and Rick, now together and heavily bespectacled, are now working together to make the world a happier place for hyperopes - by creating as many hyperopes as they possibly can!

Jessica gets her just deserts

One miserable Friday morning, a girl was sitting in the university library with her boyfriend. In one of the small private study rooms, they'd been studying since nine, but now it was time for him to go to a lecture. He kissed her goodbye and hurried away, running late as usual.
She turned her attention back to the novel in front of her, part of her reading for her English Literature course. "God, these books make their print smaller and smaller," she said softly. Sighing in resignition, she reached into her bag, rummaged about and found what she was looking for. She slipped the tortoiseshell readers on her nose and sighed, this time in relief. She'd bypassed the local chemist on her way to uni that day, on a surreptitious mission to obtain a pair of specs without being seen by anyone she knew. She'd succeeded, and she knew she'd be safe wearing them here, in a private room where no one she knew was likely to come in.

Allison and Rick, The Terrifying Test

by Specfiend

(originally posted to EyeScene 28th June 2001 - last part posted 02 July 2001)

She entered the nightclub, narrowing her eyes against the smoke. She immediately spotted a good-looking man standing next to the bar, swigging from a pint of lager. He immediately spotted her to and, picking up his pint, he made a beeline for her...
After that, her memories were vague. She remembered talking to him, going to the bathroom to freshen up, coming back to find that he'd bought her a drink . . . Then nothing. Except a strange sort of pain in her eyes. As if someone was operating on them...


Marina sent me the following e-mail today (8th March 2004):
Hi Bobby, my name is Marina, I am an Italian 21 years old girl from Turin that lives and studies in Rome. I have been visiting some glasses' sites for some times and I have always been very interested in every story and discussion. Herewith enclosed a sort of personal diary of how I have become a GWG. Excuse me in advance for any grammatical mistake, but my English isn't very perfect. Things written have really happened, while dates are estimated, but quite precise. I hope you enjoy the reading. Please feel free to make any grammatical correction.

Well, my English is far from perfect, too. I did my best and made some little edition. Now enjoy her true story:

Marina by Marina

April 12th 2001, Turin, Italy
I need glasses, today I am sure about that. In the last months I had been noticing troubles seeing at distance. Writings on boards are not so clear, although I am sitting in the second row. Walking around the city I get difficulties to read signs on the road or knowing if I am catching the right bus until it gets close.
Our classmate Elena surprises everybody today by coming to school wearing glasses. She explains that she was having troubles to see the board and signs on road; she is slightly nearsighted and the glasses really help her. Oh my God, these are my same symptoms. Does this mean I will need glasses as well? Middle morning, I go to her and comment about her nice glasses.
“Would you like to try them on?” Elena asks me.
“Well thanks!“
It’s a simple frame, metallic blue, with oval lenses. I put them on; they are heavy on my nose. They don’t seem to make any difference. I watch a bit around and as soon as I take a look at the board, everything becomes incredibly clearer.
“They are just –0.75,” she explains to me, “but they already help a lot”.
“Oh I see.” I reply. “They are also nice, but I hope I won’t ever need glasses”.
I am lying, I suspect I could need glasses and after having tried hers I got the confirmation. But I don’t want anybody to know that.

An Optical Seduction

by Eye Write aka Stingray

Frannie turned out to be everything she said she was. When I first met her, I was astonished by her honesty and awed by her beauty.
She was quite tall. She was closer to six feet than five feet. Her legs were slim and endless and her dark hair long with lavender streaks. Her skin shone with an olive complexion and her dark eyes seemed to always dance with laughter despite being almost microscopic hidden behind the lenses of the thickest eyeglasses I have ever seen. She had high accented cheekbones, a magnificent smile and a glowing warm personality.
It appeared she liked me too and after chatting a few moments I instantly liked her. You couldn't help but focus on her tiny green eyes which seemed to out of place behind the concentric rings of her thick lensed eyeglasses. But as she spoke, her eyes sparkled with glee. There was something very magical about her and I never wanted this evening to end.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

The Only Daughter

by Tom the Hungarian

It is hard to be an only child, harder still an only daughter and hardest of all to be the only child and daughter of an elderly father and a much younger and very glamorous mother. And that's me! Martha. My father is filthy rich. He started with nothing, got into property management, started purchasing property for himself on a modest scale and, then, he discovered that
he was a genius in the field. He had an uncanny ability to pick up old neglected properties and redevelop them; to recognize future trends and purchase cheap land in the right place. Today he owns the City we live in and owns half the State in which our City is located. I do not know how much money he has but it is in the nine digit range. Not surprisingly he did not have time to get married until in his late forties. Then he married a woman twenty-five years his junior and absolutely gorgeous. She claimed descent from an aristocratic Italian family but was born in this country. Her relatives in Italy were all counts and countesses, she claimed. How much of this is true I do not know. What I know is that she was extraordinarily beautiful, graceful and elegant. If she was not really a countess, she ought to have been. Dad was about 5' 6" or 7", quite a bit overweight with short legs and a large potbelly, an almost bald head and very myopic eyes which forced him to wear thick lensed glasses. Mother was 5' 11" in her stockinged feet but never hesitated to show up Dad's short stature with high heels or platform shoes and when she wore those, she was spectacular! She had a perfect figure, slim but with well-developed and rounded breasts, beautiful white skin, the face of a greek goddess with black eyes and straight black hair which she wore long. She also had 20/20 vision. Why she married Dad? The only theory I ever considered plausible was: for money.

The True Life Story of a High Myope

By Tom the Hungarian

My name is Tom and I am 40 years old and I high myope who also adores women with glasses. I was born in an Eastern European country but I live in the USA now and I am an American citizen.
I started wearing glasses when I was 11 years old but I needed them before. I did not want to wear glasses in the worst way. I considered it a major catastrophe. It did not fit in with my macho self-image. My heroes in the movies, in sports, in history were certainly NOT bespectacled nerds! I noticed, of course, that I had visual problems and that my friends could see things in the distance which I couldn't. But I went into a mode of self-denial. I came up with all kinds of unrealistic explanations such as "I have a cold which may affect my eyes" of "it's just one of those things". It came to a head with a little incident at the bus stop where I was waiting together with a well-dressed lady of maybe 40.

This Story is not a Fantasy

by Tom the Hungarian

This story is not a fantasy. It is - at least - approximately true. It happened many years ago, right after the end of the Second World War when I left Hungary to escape from the Communist threat. My first stop was in France where I attended University at Grenoble, a charming little city in the foothills of the Alps. I was taking a course in French for foreigners in a class attended by students of many nationalities.
The very first time I attended class I noticed two blond girls, obviously Scandinavian, sitting in the front row. One of them was very pretty, with long shiny hair, very blue eyes and a nicely developed body. But it was the other girl who interested me. She was very tall, far less attractive, with short hair, skinny and a little flat-chested. What drew my immediate attention to her was that she was wearing very thick minus lenses and when reading or writing she looked at the page with her nose practically touching it. I also noticed that she removed her glasses immediately the class came to an end. This surprised me a lot because she was obviously extremely myopic and must have been practically blind without her glasses. I was, in my early twenties, already a devoted glasses fetishist and found this very exciting.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Jennifer…The Myopic Progression Continues

by Jennifer

The first part is here
Jennifer loved her glasses. Even with her very high prescription of -37.75 -2.50 X 90 in her right eye and -41.00 -1.50 X 164 in her left, she wore them proudly. She had always felt they set her apart from everyone else.
Jennifer’s myopic progression had slowed significantly to well under a diopter per year. She barely noticed the change, and was very happy with her present glasses. She especially liked the Zeiss Lantal version that was a full field lens. They were nearly 18 millimeters thick at the outer edges and a bit heavy, but Jennifer thought they looked incredibly cool. But out of practicality and comfort, she wore her myodiscs most of the time.
Jennifer still resisted having her eyes checked too often; she was still afraid of another big jump. But after two and a half years went by, she was again having trouble reading anything much farther away than the ends of her arms. Something had begun to change more rapidly. She returned to the optometrist fearing another huge increase.

Jennifers’ story

by Jennifer

Jennifer Cory Michaels was born at 11:20 am on July 6, 1967 in Mammoth lakes, California.
Jennifer’s father, Samuel Michaels was a Scottish bricklayer who was also a mathematical genius. But he liked laying bricks for a living better than doing math. He was immensely strong and would sometimes crush a brick in his hand to remind his fellow workers who was boss.
One day he showed this trick to Jennifer. She immediately wanted to be able to do the same thing. It didn’t work because she was only ten at the time, but she vowed to accomplish the feat sometime in the future. Her dad said he would buy her a bottle of hundred year old Scotch whiskey if she ever she did.
Jennifer’s mother, Sonya, was a Brazilian surfing champion. She was tall and slender with the sleek arms and legs of a powerful swimmer. After living in Mammoth, she became a world class skier. Sonya was also a great singer; Samuel thought she had the voice of an angel.

High myopic African with a plastic occluder.


Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Wow, another coming out!

by Bjoern

It was only yesterday when I found out (once more) that I’m not alone with one of my fetishes... Having come out as gay, I soon after experienced I also have a big fondness for body modification (like large piercing and tattooing). My like for thick glasses reach back to at least my first year in secondary school: there were Andreas who had -5.25 on his one eye and only -2 on the other and Ludwig with -4.5 on both (as he embarrassedly told our teacher after having been asked).
When I turned 12 I needed glasses for the first time. They only had a very low prescription (-0.75 both sides) and I never wore them in public and at school only when the room was dark and we watched a video. I could still read the blackboard when I squinted.... That changed 3 years later when squinting just didn’t work anymore: I had to wear my first “real” glasses with -1.5/-1.75. And they already had some (quite small, but at least they had!) power rings, wow!
On my school bus I regularly saw a guy some years older than me with thick semi-rimless glasses (slightly tinted pink and polished/clear rims!), they were at least 12mm and I adored him!

The Blind Girl

The Blind Girl

by Bobby Laurel

It was a nice afternoon at the beginning of July. I arrived to the hotel late in the morning, checked in, had a good lunch and sat under a big umbrella with a glass of beer. My plan was to walk in the woods, eat, drink and smoke on the terrace of the small hotel and, first of all, not to think about my work. Oh yes I did take my laptop with me. But before I put it into my luggage I deleted all the files about my business. The hard disc contained some films and a lot of English stories I downloaded from Internet. I wanted to read the stories so that I made a progress in English.
The stories were rather special. I followed the advice of my teacher who said: “Fuck the classic writers and read the stories you like”. Well, I found stories I liked very much. They were about people, mostly women, who wear glasses. I found them scattered in a web discussion of guys who were obsessed with glasses. They talked about frames, lenses, fashion, and girls with glasses. I had been amazed when I had found the website, because I have always been a big fan of girls with glasses.

OO Terms to Know By All4Eyes

Table of contents:

  1. Optical terms we use
  2. Terms we made up to describe ourselves and our observations
  3. "Philiac terms” which apply to some of us

She thinks my spex are sexy

by All4Eyes

(Marie’s song to the tune of Kenny Chesney’s She thinks my tractor’s sexy)
Sliding down my nose in the hot summer sun
my thick, heavy spex, lordy here she comes
staring at my plastic frames and the lenses I need to see
I tilt my head a bit and the white rings gleam
push 'em up my nose and the girl just beams
Just look at her face, she ain’t a-foolin’ me
She thinks my spex are sexy, they really turn her on
She’s always staring at me while I’ve got my glasses on
She likes the way they shine just like a coin fresh from the mint
She’s even kinda crazy ’bout my bare-eyed squint
She’s the only one who really understands what gets me
she thinks my spex are sexy

The Blind Date

by All4Eyes

“What if he’s married? What if the picture he sent me is bogus and he’s really an 800-pound mountain of lard? What if he’s a serial killer?” these and dozens of other questions ran through Shannon’s mind as she prepared for her first face-to-face meeting with Kyle Martin. They met on an on-line dating site last winter and had been emailing and instant messaging with each other almost daily ever since. Then the day came when they felt they could go no further without seeing each other in person, so they decided to meet for lunch one Saturday at a nice little seafood place in a small coastal village a short drive from each of their respective hometowns. Shannon wasn’t worried about living up to her picture, though. Vain as it was, even she had to admit she looked stunning, with her tall, slender body dressed in a sleeveless, beige silk dress with super short skirt to show off her long, shapely legs. She had creamy smooth skin, smooth, glossy, shoulder-length hair the colour of new copper pennies, and a beautiful face with high cheekbones, full lips, a straight nose and startlingly bright blue eyes that had long, upturned lashes. “Not that anyone could tell behind these stupid coke-bottles,” she thought glumly. “Why did I have to agree to meet Kyle at the height of allergy season when I can’t stand my contacts? It is SO not fair that the thicker and uglier your glasses are the blinder you are without them!”

The morph I created in Dec 2011 to support Vision and Spex board.

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Uploading stories again

Hi all, I started uploading stories to this blog again. The reason is simple. My old website with the stories and morphs is getting full and it is also becoming really difficult to maintain, archive and backup. There are just too many files. I will try to keep it up and running till this blog is ready to take over the function the old site has had.
However, uploading so many stories her is a long time and tiresome job. So, bear with me, be patient and feel free mailing me your opinion on the change.


The Stalker

by Specs4ever

I sat quietly in the hard wooden chair, waiting for the judge to return from his chamber so that the foreman of the jury could read the verdict of Guilty of Murder in the First Degree to the man known as the Stalker. The events of the last few weeks tumbled through my mind, and I looked around the courtroom. Seated next to the prosecuting attorney was his assistant, a pretty young woman with long dark hair, wearing very attractive black framed glasses with thick minus lenses that made me want to get up and take them off her face, and see what I could see through them.