Heaven for your average glasses fetishist!

by Specfiend posted 25 July 2001 22:12          

Introduction

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.

HAVE YOUR DREAMS FULFILLED!
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.

MARIA

by Specsfiend posted 25 July 2001 22:14

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.

She'd had to wear her glasses full-time for a couple of days before she could get a replacement pair of contacts. And Eric had gradually worked on her, saying she suited glasses so much that she should wear them full-time. Eventually, she' given in and, although she had got her new contacts, she'd never actually worn them.

But she knew that her -3 lenses weren't anywhere near strong enough for his satisfaction. So, when he brought in the invitation he had received, and showed it to her, she knew immediately what he wanted her to do.

"Come on," he said, smiling eagerly. "-10. What do you say?"

Maria didn't get any real pleasure from wearing glasses, although she didn't mind wearing them. Unlike a lot of the people she knew, she actually suited glasses. But she knew there was a big difference between her current prescription, and the one that Eric desperately wanted her to have. While she could muddle through life uncorrected if necessary at -3, there was no chance she could do that if her corrective lenses had to be -10.

The question was, she thought carefully, what could she get out of it? And she knew the answer. Until now, she'd kept her fetish secret from him. She may have got no pleasure from her own glasses but, like Eric, she liked to see other people in glasses.

"I'll do it," she said. "On one condition."

Eric looked questioningly at her, eager to do just about anything.

"You have to need -10 glasses too," she said. "If you won't have them, then neither will I."

It took Eric a couple of minutes to decide about this. His vision was 20/20. He didn't really want to wear glasses himself, although he occasionally tried on Maria's spare pair when she wasn't around to witness it. Was it worth, he thought, ruining his own vision in order to have a more myopic wife?

The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed.

"It's a deal," he said. He was already beginning to feel excited.

Two weeks later, they made the long trip from the States to Scotland, were met at the airport by a chauffeur and limo, and arrived at the warehouse, feeling both excited and apprehensive. The imposing gates swung open to let them in, as if by magic. The chauffeur brought them in through the main doors, into a huge reception area.

The receptionist was a beautiful woman with minus glasses about twice the strength of Maria's. "You understand what happens here, right?" she asked. "We help glasses fetishists by 'giving' them bad vision, or worse vision, so that they have to wear thick or thicker glasses. Then we let them loose in the biggest optical store you'll probably ever see. Then, every night we have a party so that like-minded people can celebrate together."

Both Eric and Maria liked the sound of this. But, before they went upstairs to unpack, Maria had a question.

"How do you actually GIVE us bad eyesight?" she asked curiously. "Will it be painful?"

"There are several different ways we can do it, all experimental of course," the receptionist explained. "Here's a pamphlet which will explain the various processes, but you don't actually get the choice. Because you're getting this service for free, we choose the process."

Up in their room, Eric and Maria curled up on the bed and studied the pamphlet together.

Process One was an operation where a lens was directly implanted in the eye to cause a worsening in eyesight. It had an effect much like putting in plus contacts in order to wear minus glasses, or vice versa.

Process Two involved the eyes to be bathed in a special chemical for five minutes. At first the vision would remain the same - gradually, over several days, it would begin to deteriorate. Regular eye tests would take place several times a day and, once the person had reached their desired degree of myopia or hyperopia, another chemical would be applied to halt the process.

Process Three was basically LASIK in reverse. Both flinched at that thought.

Process Four sounded worst of all. Sitting in a darkened room for hours a day, forced to stare at strange patterns, images and words, designed especially to strain one's eyes and cause the vision to grow weak. Both Maria and Eric really hoped they didn't get stuck with this process, they wanted to avoid it even more than they wished to avoid any surgical processes.

The last process was the least well explained. All it said was "Grow gradually into your desired prescription with your special lenses." This fascinated Maria, and she couldn't help but wonder what it meant.

At the end of the pamphlet it said that they were expecting more and more processes to be added to the list before long, their experiments were showing them many new ways to give bad eyesight away.

They were jet-lagged, so they didn't go to that evening's party. The following day, someone came into their room at 6.30 in the morning to wake them up. "The specialists are ready to start your process," they were old. Maria reached for her glasses, but the woman stopped her. "No correction for the moment," she said sternly.

They were lead downstairs and then taken into separate rooms. The woman told Maria to sit in the chair in the centre of the room, then she left. Maria waited quietly for the specialist.

The specialist was a woman, and seemed very friendly. She told Maria that she was to be a Process 5 candidate. "Now, it's not exactly going to be a comfortable experience," she warned her. "But it's less painful than surgery and less boring than Process 4."

"But what does Process 5 actually entail?" Maria asked.

"It means you'll grow gradually into your glasses. It will probably take four or five days." The woman walked over to a table. "Now, you want to be minus ten, right?"

"Yeah." Well, that was what Eric wanted her to be.

"Okay. So what we have to do is fit you with these special minus ten lenses. It's imperative, in order for you to become accustomed to them, that they are not taken off until your vision is clear with them. So, for the number of days this takes, they must be basically padlocked on."

"What?" Maria glanced at her with raised eyebrows.

"Well, they need to stay on everywhere. In the shower, the pool, even in bed. In front of your eyes at all times. Once you can see with them, that's no longer necessary. But, if in the process of getting accustomed to them, they move from in front of your eyes at any time, even to slip down your nose slightly . . . it just won't work." The woman watched her carefully. "You still want to go ahead with this?" she asked.

"Um. Yeah."

The woman removed a strange looking pair of glasses from a drawer. "Close your eyes," she told Maria. "Don't open them until I tell you to." Maria did as she was told. The specialist placed the glasses over her eyes first. They were like goggles rather than glasses . Maria was told to hold them over her eyes, while the specialist pulled the straps tightly back, yanking them so they were as taut as possible. She tied these together before pulling back the second set of straps, which were more solid than the first. These were, quite literally padlocked together. Maria was told to push the goggles into her face. The rubber created some sort of suction, and they were stuck there.

"That's it," the specialist said. "You can open your eyes now."

Maria couldn't see a thing when she opened her eyes. The lenses inside the goggles were much much too strong for her. Her eyes began to smart and tear up. This must have been anticipated though, because there were tiny drainage holes which her tears dropped through.

The specialist lead her to the door. Eric was outside, looking completely the same. His eyes looked a little red though.

"I got Process Two," he told her, gaping at her begoggled appearance. "The chemicals stung like hell. My specialist says I won't notice a difference in my vision for a couple of hours. Then it'll be downhill from then onwards." He stared harder at Maria. "Wow, your eyes look incredible behind those lenses," he blurted out. "Can you see through them?"

"No," she muttered, feeling a little annoyed at him for putting her through this. But she could hardly complain - before long he would be in a similar situation. "You're all blurry!"

He laughed huskily. "It won't be long," he said warmly. "Soon you'll be able to see everything through them." He took her hand and squeezed it. "Let's go back to our room," he suggested, obviously turned on by her thick lenses.

A long time later it was time for dinner, and they ventured into the dining room. Inside, they were presented by an extremely strange site. There were people like Eric, bare-eyed but red-eyed. People like Maria, with thick lenses goggles pulled tightly around their heads. People with bandages over their eyes (usually it was only one eye), people who looked pale and squinty (they had to be the unlucky people stuck with Process Four), and people already wearing regular glasses with thick lenses. Both Eric and Maria wondered if these last specimens had already had their eyesight "ruined", or whether they were naturally that way already and wanted to go even blinder.

At their table, there were three other people. A girl who was alone and bare-eyed, and another couple - the man was wearing thick minus lenses, and the woman wore plus glasses, not too strong, but enough for her to clearly want to wear them full-time.

The girl was called Daniella, and she was Scottish. She told them that she had perfect vision, but had always wanted to wear glasses. "Nothing exceptionally strong," she said airily. "Minus four or so. I don't know what process I'm getting, but it's gonna happen tomorrow." She glanced at Maria and Eric. "I'm guessing you got Process Two," she told Eric. "And was yours process five?" she asked Maria.

"Got it first time," Maria said. Her eyes were still stinging painfully, and she was having difficulty seeing. She turned to the other couple (who sounded Australian) and asked about them. It turned out the guy, James, had just went through the lens-implant operation, on the request of his wife. The wife, Colleen, told Maria that she herself had been hyperopic from a young age, and that she had always wanted her husband to get thick glasses. "He was perfectly willing to do so," she said. "But he only needed a -1 correction, which wasn't much good in my eyes. So now he has -15 glasses." She smiled lovingly at her husband.

"I'm doing this for Eric's benefit," Maria said, indicating the hard-to-miss goggles over her eyes. "But I said I would only do it if he did it too."

"Smart move," Colleen grinned. "Make it a hell of a lot more pleasurable for you. Right?"

Maria laughed. "Exactly."

The following day Maria opened her eyes, still to be confronted with a hazy blur. It had been really uncomfortable trying to sleep in the goggles, especially with a mini-padlock digging into the back of her head.

Eric was sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "It's starting," he said to her. He pointed to the window, which was directly opposite their bed. "Nothing outside is clear anymore." He sounded slightly panicked. Maria guessed it was understandable - he'd never experienced vision that was less than perfect. So he couldn't deal with this.

"Here." She handed him her glasses, since they were now useless to her. "These might help for a while."

He slid them on gratefully and she glanced at him, feeling enormously turned on. She'd never seen him in glasses before (he'd always been reluctant to try hers on, although she had offered on more than one occasion), and he looked unspeakably sexy. They took the intimidating edge of his stunningly good looks, making him slightly more approachable, but even more gorgeous.

"Are they too strong for you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Actually, they're a little weak." He squinted slightly through the lenses. "I guess I already must have progressed further than minus three."

Maria had come to a split-second decision. "When they check your eyes this morning, tell them to put the other chemical in, and stop your eyesight from getting any worse," she told him.

"Why?" Eric asked, puzzled. "I thought you wanted me to be minus ten, like you're going to be."

"I've changed my mind," Maria shrugged. "You know I don't care as much about how thick the lenses are. All that matters to me is that you have to wear glasses now. And it would probably be better if one of us could just about function without correction. Okay?"

"Fine with me." Eric said. He seemed relieved as he left for his examination, still wearing her glasses. Maria smiled. She really didn't want Eric's vision to get any worse. He was going to look completely sexy in any kind of specs, thick or thin lenses!

She couldn't wait until he had a pair of his own glasses to wear!

 

Specfiend posted 25 July 2001 22:18

I'll finish Eric and Maria's story soon. But in the meantime, I'd like to extend an invitation to you, or to a fictional character you make up, to come to the Highlands, and have your eyesight tailor made to your needs! Come on guys, you don't want Eric and Maria to be lonely, do you? Also, remember that the scientists there are always developing new processes to alter eyesight, so maybe you or your character could get one of the new processes carried out on your eyes!!!

Specfiend posted 26 July 2001 21:38

She went back to sleep - putting off getting used to her lenses for a while longer. She only woke up when Eric returned. "Hey," she murmured huskily, squinting at him. "You got it stopped?"

"Yeah," he nodded. He was still wearing her glasses, and still having trouble seeing through them. "I'd got to -5," he told her. "They said most people would only be at -2 by this point, I progressed a lot faster than they thought I would." He smiled at her. "Will you come and help me choose some glasses?"

"Of course," Maria grinned back. "I thought you'd never ask."

They walked downstairs, following the sign that said "Optical Store this way". Of course, both of them were having trouble seeing the signs, but they were illuminous pink, so were hard to miss. Luckily for the pair of them.

"Wow!" The optical store really was one of the most massive stores they'd ever seen. Not the largest optical store, one of the largest STORES ever. There seemed to be acres of space, crammed with millions of spectacle frames. How could they possibly make a decision?

Their problem was solved when an assistant approached them, realized their problem, and lead them over to a computer terminal. "This is a questionnaire," she explained to them, gazing kindly at them through her thick plus glasses. "You just touch the screen to answer each question and at the end, it will print out a list of frames you might like. Then I'll locate them for you so you can try them on and make a decision from that." She smiled. "Of course, you're free to just look around if you want - but it could take forever."

Eric and Maria sat down at the computer, and the assistant noticed how much trouble Eric was having reading the screen. "Here." She picked up a huge glass lens and slid it over the computer screen. It had little holes in it so that it was still possible to touch the screen to answer the questions. The lens magnified the writing and made it much easier to read.

The questionnaire involved questions about life style, career and colour preferences. The computer then took a snapshot of Eric's face (he had to slip Maria's glasses off to do so) and processed it internally, obviously assessing and discarding a large amount of the frame choices it had generated. Finally, it printed out a list of ten possibilities and the assistant went off to find them.

She took Eric over to a mirror and let him try on each pair, taking pictures of him in each one. After this process had been completed, Eric and Maria poured over the photos to gauge which frames would be the most attractive. They couldn't decide between the subtle wire-rims and more in-your-face dark plastic oblongs (he looked fantastic in both) so Eric eventually decided to get the two pairs.

"It won't take long to make them up for you," the assistant told them. "We'll deliver them to your room in an hour."

Sure enough, the glasses arrived exactly an hour later. The "delivery man" handed them over, made Eric sign for them ("You wouldn't believe how many delivery guys steal the glasses instead of delivering them") and left, telling them to ring down on their phone if there was any trouble.

Eric looked apprehensively at the two glasses cases sitting in front of him.

"Go on," Maria said softly, after he'd been staring at them for a while. "What's the matter?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "It's just scary to think I actually need these now," he said softly. "That's all." 

He selected the wire-rims, removed Maria's glasses, and slipped his very own new specs on his nose. 

"Wow," he said pushing them up. "This is a new experience." 

He turned and looked at Maria, and she smiled involuntarily. 

"Wow," she murmured. "You look incredible, Eric." 

His lovely dark eyes were minimised slightly behind the lenses, and the frames suited his face perfectly. She basically fell in love with him all over again. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, and suddenly smiled himself. 

"I like them," he said softly. "I really, really like them."

"Good," Maria said, taking him by the hand and leading them to the bed. "Now, let's see how durable they really are."

DANIELLA

by Specfiend posted 28 July 2001 21:04

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.

It was a mini-cinema, which contained about ten other people. As she went in, the assistant informed her that on this first day, they would be spending four hours in the room, having a break, and then six hours. She refused to explain the exact process - "you'll find out as you go along."

Another assistant took a hold of her and brought her over to a chair in the back row of three rows. She was placed in a strange contraption of a chair, and a bar was placed over her waist and locked securely. "Last chance to get off," the man said grimly, without even a trace of irony in his voice. "You still want to go ahead."

Daniella nodded. "Yes," she said firmly. It was the only way.

The man nodded, then pushed her head back, fitting it into a contraption to hold her head up, and straight ahead. "This is so you stare at the screen at all times," he explained, when she looked questioningly at him. "And we've proven that it's more difficult to fall asleep if your head is permanently forced upright."

He left her alone and the lights in the theatre dimmed. In front of them, strange patterns appeared on the screen, colours and patterns which hurt the eyes intensely to look at. They were instructed to stare at them, and try to only blink when they really had to. It was boring and painful. Why couldn't they just have given her an operation? Daniella wondered. Or goggles, like that girl Maria. Or strange eyedrops like Eric? Why did she have to get the most boring process of all?

After about two hours of eyestrain, some assistants processed into the room, and began to move among their "clients". Daniella saw one approach out of the corner of her eye, and next thing she knew, something cool and heavy was being slipped on her face. The minute she felt the pressure on her nose, she knew it was a pair of glasses. An extremely strong pair.
"How strong are these?" she asked the assistant, the same man who had placed her in the chair. "Are they minus or plus?"

"They're neither," he said, much to her surprise. "They are simply special thick lenses, which distort images and place further strain on the eyes. One of the scientists here developed them. When combined with these images, they tend to increase the progression of myopia."

"Oh." The man left her alone, and she continued to stare at the images, which were now blurry and even harder to look at. She had to keep staring - she couldn't even go into a daydream because she'd forget to focus then.

Just before they got their break, the assistant came around again, removed the glasses and replaced them with a weaker pair, which they were instructed to keep on during the break. These glasses had a strange tint, which was a very weird shade of yellow. Her legs feeling like jelly, Daniella carefully walked outside.

"Hey!" She turned to see a very attractive guy of her own age standing beside her, the strange glasses over his eyes too. "I noticed you come in the theatre before, but then my head was clamped and I couldn't look at you anymore." He was Irish, she noticed immediately. And very attractive didn't come close to describing him . . . he was male model material.

Daniella giggled, feeling shy. "That sounds so freaky, doesn't it?" she said, smiling at him, and wondering what colour his eyes were behind the tinted specs. It was so hard to tell.

"My name's Aidan," he said, extending a hand for her to shake.

"Daniella. So what degree of myopia or hyperopia are you aiming for?"

"About minus four," he replied, much to her delight.

"Hey, me too." She glanced at him hesistantly. "You - um - want to come to the canteen, grab some lunch?"

"Sure," he replied with a wide dazzling grin. "I'd love to."

Daniella glanced around the canteen. "My vision feels a little blurry," she commented. "But I don't know if it's me or these glasses. You know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean," he said, glancing around the room himself.

At that moment, Daniella noticed Eric and Maria. Maria was still wearing the thick lenses goggles, although her eyes now looked less sore and red behind them. And Eric . . . wow! Eric was wearing glasses now. They were only about half the strength that he had told her he was going to need, but he looked incredible! Amazing enough without glasses, his appeal had at least doubled since her previous sighting of him when he'd been bare-eyed. Shame he's married, she thought, and turned back to Aidan. Then the thought struck her that he would soon be wearing glasses too. Not those stupid yellow ones - real, and quite strong, glasses. And if he could pull off the horrendous specs they were sporting now so impeccably - then he was going to look even better than Eric in his real glasses.

Aidan smiled at her and she felt a little tremble in the pit of her stomach. Not only had she found a nice guy, one who was totally gorgeous and could, from the sounds of it, be interested in her, but he also seemed to share her glasses fetish.

This was too much to hope for!

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.

The coaches ground to a halt at a small roadside inn. Just up the road was a large building - a former warehouse - converted to some mysterious use. No-one seemed to know much about it - though one guy at the bar kept staring out of the window and looking at an invitation in his hand. Should he or shouldn't he? Should he or shouldn't he just walk up to that building and show them his invitation and get his eyes fixed really myopically? Lacking the courage after coming this far - the guy downed his drink and left the inn - leaving his invitation on the bar.

The only word of English that Yuri recognized was the word "FREE". Free what? He didn't know. It was just one word out of a whole jumble that he'd noticed on some paper that someone had left on the bar. Maybe it was a coupon or maybe it could be exchanged for some gift. Yuri decided to keep hold of it. But more pressing matters needed sorting. The bar at the inn hadn't enough glasses for two coachloads of visiting miners and the lads had suggested that Yuri go and find some more. In halting English he asked the barman if there was any place he might find more glasses. The barman's broad Scottish accent was lost on Yuri - but he gathered that he should look somewhere outside and round the back of the inn.

Round the back was a back-street and Yuri hadn't a clue what to do next. He walked along it and reached the far end when a Policeman stood in his way. "Taking the night air sir?" asked the officer. Yuri remembered enough brushes with the law back in his home town - and promptly did a runner - with the Policeman in hot pursuit. In and out of dark alleyways - out on the edge of town - managed to give the officer the slip and reached the entrance to a big, strange building.

"Do you have an invitation, sir?" asked the man at reception. Yuri was breathless and didn't really understand the question. His heart was pounding and his head felt light. "Glasses," he said. "Miners," he gasped. "Se... seven... seventy..." he panted and promptly fell in a faint. "Are you alright sir?" asked the man on the reception desk - and as he turned over Yuri's limp body he saw the invitation card - promising free treatment for the glasses of his dreams.

Poor Yuri. The miners hardly recognized him when he stumbled back to the inn - having endured all known processes for inducing myopia - before being bundled out of the building with his outrageously thick minus 70 glasses strapped to his face.

NAOMI'S STORY

by Christy posted 07 August 2001 09:31

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.

One thing the townies will always remember, however, is the day a man called Naomi strode into town.

At this juncture it should be explained that although some men in the Scottish Highlands are accustomed to wear kilts, they certainly don't parade around in mini skirts. Nor do they wear fishnet stockings and stiletto heels. Nor do they sport racy lacy black and red bras with a couple of false boobs stuffed into them.

Naomi's heels click-clacked furiously up to the gates of the old warehouse. The doorman raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He'd seen people coming and going in strange thick glasses, but he'd never seen anything quite as odd as Naomi.

"I demand to see the boss," snapped Naomi.

"Do you have an invitation - errr - sir - or do you prefer to be called madam?" asked the doorman, obviously at a loss.

Naomi had no invitation, but proffered an Eyescene membership card instead. When this failed to impress the doorman, he offered more and more Eyescene membership cards - each one with a different name. When this failed - he began exhibiting multiple personalities - possibly even more personalities than he had membership cards. In the end the doorman was obliged to call security.

"One of the processes you're using to stimulate the development of myopia," barked Naomi, "belongs to me!"

"Do you have proof of that?" asked the Boss.

"I sure do," huffed Naomi, shoving a short story across the desktop. A section of the text had been highlighted and the Boss perused it.

"Uh-huh," said the Boss at length, "I think if you read your own words a bit more carefully, and then take a good look at our process, you'll see that there are certain differences."

Naomi was led into a darkened room, where it cannot be related what he saw of the process, in case it leads to accusations of plagiarism. Suffice to say, he saw the light! He also became extremely myopic and although he'd basically gate-crashed the place, he was nevertheless allowed to choose the frames of his dreams. A lovely black and red feminine frame that went very nicely with his racy lacy black and red bra.

Unfortunately the glasses got broken while Naomi was travelling home. There are some rough places around Glasgow where they're not very open minded about guys pretending to be gals.

But it all had a happy ending because this is a work of pure fiction and anything can happen. Nobody had any flame wars or accused anyone of anything. Hey - I could fix it for Naomi to win the Lottery. There you go - wham bam - 6 Million for Naomi - and a free visit to that spec-tacular warehouse in Scotland for everyone on Eyescene.

ALISON AND RICK (yes, them again!)

by Specfiend posted 08 August 2001 19:13

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."

She insisted on going first, high on adrenalin and excitement, and dying to get on with their "mission". She pulled herself up the pipe, wishing it wasn't raining so hard, and when she got level with the window, she grabbed the window sill and used the strength in her arms to push her legs up onto the sill too. Then she carefully slid through the window.

The room was occupied by a man and woman in their mid twenties. Both were dark haired, attractive and fast asleep. The girl wore thick goggle-like glasses attached firmly to her face (that had to be one of the processes, the girl surmised as she peered at them through the darkness), and the guy wore comparatively thin lensed, regular wire-rim glasses of around -4 or -5, although he probably didn't actually need to wear them in bed. The girl smiled knowingly and pushed her own glasses up on her nose. She could understand that feeling, all too well.

The man joined her in the room, dropping silently onto the carpet beside her. She raised a finger to her lips to prevent him talking, nodding at the sleeping couple to indicate why silence was a necessity. She stealthily crossed the room to the door, yanked it open and crept outside into the darkened corridor, motioning for her partner to follow.

"What way now?" she asked. "Downstairs, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm pretty sure that's where the stuff will be."

"Do we have any idea if there's a lot of security around here or not?" the girl questioned him. He shrugged.

"I'm guessing no. No alarms went off when we came in. They probably don't think anyone would TRY to break in here. Also, the security at the front of the gates seems to be pretty tight, I guess they think they cut off any unwanted guests before they can even get into the grounds."

"That's what they think," the girl snorted, carefully pushing a door open. It was marked with a sign that said "No Entry".

"This will be where they keep the equipment," the man guessed. He pushed back his hood and turned to smile at his girlfriend, his dark eyes gleaming behind his extraordinarily strong plus glasses. "Allison, why don't you check in that room, and I'll check in here?"

Equally magnified green eyes glittered back at him. "Definitely," she purred. She pushed this door. It didn't give. She swore under her breath, withdrew a credit card from her pocket and used it to open the door. She'd never done it before but instinct seemed to take over. This was obviously meant to be. She turned to him before she went inside. "Rick, do you need this?" she asked, holding up the credit card.

He shook his head, holding up a matching card. "Got my own," he grinned. "Good luck Ally."

"I won't need it," she smiled, slipping inside and closing the door silently behind her. The room was empty apart from row upon row of drawers set into the wall. She moved over to the nearest one and slid it open.

"Goggles," she murmured, staring at a row of goggles housing various thick lenses. Goggles like the girl in that room had been sporting. -6, these particular goggles were labelled. She slipped two pairs into the bag she'd brought especially, and opened the next drawer. -8 goggles. She bypassed them until she reached -12, pocketed a couple of pairs of them. Then -16, -20 and -25. Now she had 10 pairs of goggles, with varied strength ranging from -6 to -20. But where were the plus goggles?

The next set of drawers, she discovered. Gleefully she stocked up on +8, +12, +16, +18 and +20s. She looked at the +16s, thinking that she and Rick could wean their prescription up another two dioptres using those goggles. Eyeing the padlock on them reminded her of being tied in the opticians chair in her dream that first time. It was going to be so exciting!

Her bag was already getting a little full. She moved over to the next set of drawers, and opened them. Row upon row of lenses. What kind of lenses? she wondered, gazing at them. The door swung open then and she jumped in fright, but it was just Rick.

"All I found in the other room were the slides and the distorting specs," he reported. "I took some, but I don't know how much use they'll be. I've heard there's some kind of chemical eye drop - that's something we really need to get out hands on. What's so fascinating over there?"

"I'm trying to figure out if these are regular lenses, or ones like the ones you use in your store," Allison said, picking one up and turning it over in her hand. "What do you think?"

He took it from her and held it up to the light. After a moment, he turned to her, smiling excitedly. "This is the exact type I use in my store," he said. "Exactly the same, Allison. And in a minus version too. You know what this means?"

Allison smiled slowly. "We can treat the myopes to strong glasses too, if we feel like it. Right?" He nodded. It wasn't as exciting to either of them as strong plus glasses, but it would be nice to put the myopes through the torture of being tied in a chair and forced to adjust to glasses too strong for them. They never tired of the expression of horror on a new "client's" face as they realised they were trapped and that the optician and his assistant were clearly prescribing them glasses way too strong.

They had received an invitation. Of course they had. They probably had the biggest glasses fetishes in the country, the world maybe! But they had known more about what was going on in the old warehouse than anyone else had (Rick had a lot of contacts in the business who had fed him snippets of information about the processes and experiments going on there) and they knew that, if they wanted stronger glasses, they didn't want their eyesight to be worsened by some stranger. That was something they liked to do to one another!

But they did want to get a closer look at what went on inside, unhindered by any of the employees. And perhaps get a hold of some of the lenses and tools. As well as look at what was rumoured to be one of the largest supplies of glasses in the world.

Rick quickly unloaded a large pile of strong minus lenses from the drawer and slipped them into his rucksack. He added some plus lenses too for good measure. "In case we ever run low," he said with a grin. His optician friend was still supplying him with the lenses on a monthly basis, but he was always worried that he would run out one day. Or that his friend might disappear and leave him in the lurch.

He opened the next drawer. "Bingo!" he exclaimed. Nestled inside were millions of little bottles of eyedrops. "This is what I'm looking for."

The idea, he'd told Allison, was that he could use these in any case where he didn't feel safe using the tying up in the chair method. Occasionally such a situation just wasn't safe. Maybe there was a slight chance that the patient's mother or father might walk in mid-exam. Or the rare case that the patient themselves might tell someone what happened later on. "Most do walk out and don't actually want to tell anyone what happened," he's said. "After all, some of them really enjoyed it. But a minority do feel like they should tell someone. The chances are they won't be believed, but I can't really afford to take that risk. In that case the eye drops will be fantastic. I can pretend I need to use them as part of the process, tell them they'll have to return in a couple of days . . . and then they'll be short-sighted or long-sighted enough to need glasses, or thicker glasses. It's ideal."

As he loaded bottles into his bag, the door flew open, banging against the wall. Two burly security men stood there, glaring at them from behind thick minus lenses. Allison gasped and Rick quickly passed his rucksack to her. "Say nothing," he hissed. "And, when I give you the signal, go! There's a window in the other room - I left the door unlocked."

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" one of the intimidating men demanded.

"Sorry, we're a bit lost." Rick paced over to the other side of the room, and the men followed his progress, momentarily distracted from Allison. Rick glanced quickly at Allison and signalled with his eyes towards the door. She bolted, out of the room before the men could register she'd even moved. She got across to the other room, slid the window open and jumped out onto the ground, grateful she was on the ground floor and didn't have to drop far.

But what was going to happen to Rick? she wondered, extremely worried. She hoped nothing bad would happen.She headed back through the grounds to the wall they had originally scaled, deciding to wait for him there.

When the guards gave chase to Allison, Rick took his opportunity to escape, darting back along the corridor as the guards followed Allison into the other room, forgetting him for a moment. He ran across the reception area and flung open another door.

He was in the optical area. Arena would be a more appropriate word actually, he thought in awe. Quickly he crept behind a shelf so that if the guards came in he wouldn't be seen. And he hurriedly examined the frames in front of him. Wow, so many to choose from. And that was just one shelf. He slipped a couple of interesting looking pairs into his pocket, peered around the shelf to see if the security guards had found him yet, and sneaked over to another shelf. He wished he still had his rucksack so he could carry more, but he'd had to give Allison the bag to ensure that they got all the stuff they'd stolen out of the building. At that point, he hadn't been sure whether or not he would be able to escape when Allison ran for it.

He managed to store about fifteen frames about his person, and then he crept back to the door, wondering how he could get back out. He couldn't get out the same way as Allison, the security guards were sure to be lurking. He remembered the couple's bedroom window they'd originally entered through. It would have to be back out the way they'd came in.

Thankfully the door opened. He pressed his way along the wall, listening carefully to the even breathing coming from the bed. It was with great relief that he got onto the window sill, grabbed onto the pipe and slid painfully down it, trying not to break any frames as he did so.

When he reached the back end of the grounds, there was no sign of Allison, although both their bags were placed carefully against the fence, partly concealed by some long weeds. He guessed she'd come back to look for him. But he had better wait here, otherwise they might be trying to locate each other all night. She just hoped she was okay.

Allison wished she hadn't returned to look for Rick now. Why hadn't she just stayed put? She cowered as a figure loomed over the optician's chair, evil eyes glaring at her.

"What did you think you were doing?" the woman asked. "Stealing our property? Why?"

"We wanted to make people more myopic and hyperopic," she murmured weakly, tugging at the handcuffs which held her hand and feet to the chair. This was feeling a little TOO familiar.

The woman glared at her for a while longer. Silently. Allison felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Well, let's see how you feel when we give you a taste of your own medicine," she said menacingly. Allison closed her eyes in terror as the woman removed Allison's glasses and prepared to give out her punishment.

It was three hours before Rick spotted a figure crawling towards him, feeling blindly for the ground. "Allison!" he gasped, running towards her. Allison looked up at him, clearly not seeing a thing. Little wonder. Gone were her glasses, to be replaced by a pair of those hideous goggles. The lenses inside them were such strong minus lenses that she clearly couldn't see a thing, especially considering the strength of her own plus prescription. She was basically blind - it was incredible that she'd made it as far as she had.

"Came back to find you!" Allison gasped through her tears. "Security guards caught me. Then this woman came and stuck me in a chair. Took my glasses, replaced them with these, and dumped me outside the door. I can't see anything, Rick!" she cried hysterically. "Get them off me, PLEASE!"

Rick struggled with the padlock, but it was so hard to see that he couldn't work out a way to unlock it. "Allison, I can't fix it right now," he told her. "We'll have to wait till we get back." Quickly he began to work out how he was going to get Allison back over the high wall in her state.

Back at his flat, he had to fiddle with the padlock for about an hour before he finally managed to free Allison from the prison. By this time, Allison's eyes were completely bloodshot, and she had massive circles surrounding her eyes due to the suction created by the goggles. Rick located her spare pair of +14 glasses and slipped them onto her nose, and she gasped. "Rick, these are too strong for me," she whispered.

He shook his head in wonder. "God, those goggles really are strong," he said. "I guess we at least know that those lenses work the way they're supposed to. What is your vision like without them?"

"Not very good," she admitted, sliding the glasses down her nose. "I can see more than I've been able to see without correction for a long time though."

Rick tried a couple of different lenses in front of her eyes and discovered she'd regressed to +6. "You don't want to stay that way, do you?" he asked.

"No way!" she grabbed for the +14s again. "I want to be back to normal again," she grinned. "And normal for me is as longsighted as possible."As she slid those glasses back on, she already felt much happier. "You know something though?" she said seriously. "That woman was really evil. I mean, I could tell she wasn't just punishing me because I'd trespassed and stolen and stuff. I think there's something else going on in that warehouse. Something sinister."

"Maybe," Rick said thoughtfully. "After all, why would they be offering these people all these processes - for free? I know it's supposedly because they're trying out new experiments, but I feel like there's got to be something else going on too. But what?"

"I don't know," Allison shrugged, blinking and eager for her eyes to readjust to the +14s. "But I'm glad I'm not in there. I feel sorry for the people who are staying there right now. The place is basically a timebomb waiting to explode."

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