“‘May take up to thirty minutes to kick in, please do not take more than the recommended dose based on weight and height…” You read aloud with a smile, “Both duration and intensity of the changes will drastically increase with minor dosage increase, and an emergency reversal shot is included for more severe cases to prevent transformation permanence’.”
Wait, ‘dose’?”
When Bimbo Glasses were released they seemed like a fairytale, too expensive for anyone without millions of dollars to afford. That all changed when NASA found a far more efficient solution, cutting costs immensely and bringing competition to a desperate market. And even after that, the glasses were still thousands of dollars out of reach.
A stroke of luck granted you the opportunity to receive an amazing pay raise, helping you easily build up enough money to get the product you’ve been dreaming about.
“‘Bimbo Glasses have microscopic spikes that allow our patented serum to inject directly into your preauricular gland, allowing the Magical Hormones™️ to travel just millimeters before they seep into your brain’?
Huh, I always thought the glasses just… I don’t even know, I guess I never really thought about how they work…” You trail off, unboxing the flimsy clear glasses.
You then remove a bottle of serum from the box, labeled clearly with dosages for various heights and weights. It’s very easy to measure the dose, and you excitedly put the glasses on after pouring the serum into the left stem.
You don’t feel anything special, though the glasses do seem to grip your face peculiarly.
The first 20 minutes of waiting seems like forever but then you get busy on your phone, and before you know it an hour passes! You feel a little tingle in your jaw, but that could just be placebo…
You wait another few minutes before deciding to just add a little more serum, hoping the tingling in your face is just a precursor to what’s to come with a higher dose. You get a text from your boss as you finish pouring, telling you he needs your help at his house immediately.
You forget about the glasses that don’t work, putting your confusion about the lack of function to the back of your mind. Maybe all those reviews were just scams, and you’d fallen for it…
You drive to your boss's house and knock on the front door, feeling a bit anxious as he unlocks it for you.
“Good thing you’re here I-
Whoa, who are you?” Your boss suddenly asks, looking a lot less managerial as he scans your body.
“Sir, what are you- My voice!!
The glasses?! O shit, I-
I gotta go, sorry!” You yelp, trying to run back to your car as your boss reaches out for your hand.
“Why leave? You could still help and do your job, Bimbo Glasses won’t stop that.” Your boss says flatly, letting you know that he knows what’s going on.
You calm down a bit as he invites you in, realizing it’s silly to even be embarrassed about living out your dream. Once inside you become aware of your reshaped face, raised cheekbones, and plumped lips. You excuse yourself with a meek whimper, prancing to the bathroom femininely as you try to walk normally. Opening the bathroom door with your slimming fingers takes a lot more effort than you’re used to, and you wince when you see the lack of muscle in your forearm.
Once inside the bathroom you check the mirror, and instantly grow hard as you stare at your sexy reflection. You feel pulsating in your head as the tingling you felt at home is now a throbbing force throughout your body, making your stomach rumble as your ribs audibly crack.
You continue to shrink down as your pelvis reconfigures, spreading your hips out and cinching your waist in. The movement inside you creates a suction, and you moan as your manhood shrivels up inside you. Your nipples begin to grow tender, and you purse your lips as they rub into the coarse material of your button down.
Soon fat pours into your chest, pressing your sensitive nipples into the shirt as you arch your back to support the new weight. Your mind begins to swirl as your boobs continue to grow, your strained arousal reaching a peak as you feel the surge of fat in your chest start to slow down.
You breathe a sigh of relief, assuming your transformation’s almost finished. Your shirt barely survived the ordeal, buttons pulling apart as your womanhood develops into gushing folds. Your clitoris throbs as you try to catch your breath, but that’s when you feel a rush of liquid spill from the glasses into your head.
O no, the second round!
Bliss piles in your throat as all your worry ceases, and you just giggle as your shirt bursts open.
“My boobies are gonna get even bigger, yay!!
I mean, like, o no! I don’t want mushy titties that anyone could just grab and- What am I saying- Shit!
I like, totally have to get out of here before my boss sees me!” You say in a loud whisper, looking around the bathroom for a window.
There’s no window so you sneak out the door, or at least you try to. Your boss heard you talking about boobies and decided to just wait for you to come out, a goofy smile on his face when he sees your body. You want to be mad or tell him you want to leave, but instead you just smile shyly as butterflies of arousal flutter in your tummy.
“That shirt is way too small, let me see if my wife has anything you would fit into…” He trails off, politely leaving to go find you a shirt as your nipples peek out.
This fills your heart with warmth, and you can’t stop your mind from imagining your boss as a husband. He listens to everything you say, and he's got a great job, plus he’s so handsome- Shit!
You have to get home and take the reversal shot, otherwise you'll stay like this forever!
That’s what you want though…
No!!
You fight the arguments your bimbofying mind presents, pleading with your body to just leave the house instead of waiting for your boss like his little princess.
But you love being his pretty little princess!
“Sorry I couldn’t really find anything large enough to fit that chest, this old zipper up golfing shirt might is her biggest one…” He trails off, politely looking away as you remove your ripped shirt and put on the new one.
It takes considerable effort to pull the zipper up even a little, your giant bust squeezing together but far too large to fit. Your vision darkens slightly as you make it past your belly button, the glasses turning black to signal your transformation is complete.
Or at least, that’s what it should mean…
“Take the glasses off quick!!
Just the side stems are supposed to turn black, the whole thing going black means you’re-”
Silence
His mouth continues to move as he speaks, but the ringing in your ears is too loud.
What was he just talking about, again?
It’s hard to focus on anything, chest inflating as your head begins to ache. You feel your hips bend forward as they spread outward, ready to support the mass of fat ballooning your ass. It suddenly rounds out extremely and rips through your pants, stretching your boxers to their limit as they rub into your clitoris and make you moan and bounce involuntarily.
“I like… have the reversal shot at my… house…” You struggle to say, your body physically rejecting the lack of girly words coming out of your mouth.
“Then we have to go there right now, let’s get you covered up!” He exclaims, bringing out a thin full length coat.
You’re not even aware enough to put it on, needing him to help you out.
“Like, what’s wrong with my outfit?” You ask absentmindedly as you try to focus on getting into the jacket, eliciting a laugh from your boss as he brings you to the car.
You don’t remember the code to your house, but in your previous haze you forgot to lock it on your way out.
“Okay, where’s the reversal shot?” He asks desperately, knowing that there’s a chance he may be too late.
“Oh! Ummm… I think it’s like, in my closet?
Hold on…” You giggle, running off to your closet to change into something more… comfortable…
Your boss comes into your room a few minutes later, jaw to the floor at what he sees. You’ve been crossdressing at home for years, and have all different sizes of women's clothing. There’s even been a time you got severely overweight, and from that you have several padded bras…
“So there’s no reversal shot?” Your boss asks, feeling dumb for having been tricked by someone clearly far less intelligent than him.
“Like, what the heck are you talking about??” You giggle, teasing the hunk in your bedroom after tricking him into walking in on you in your underwear.
“You still have those glasses on??” He asks, exasperated as he removes them from your face.
“I’m sorry, Daddy!! I didn’t know you don’t like my glasses, I totally wouldn't have worn them!” You coo, bouncing your boobies in an effort to turn him on.
He runs out of the room, and you hear him search around the house frantically. You just laugh and pull out your phone, checking yourself out in the selfie camera as you purse your pillowy lips.
“Aha!” You hear from the kitchen, and suddenly that handsome gentleman is back in your room holding a syringe.
Before you can ask anything he sticks it into your thigh, and you cry out in pain as he presses the plunger down on a full barrel. You feel the cold fluid rush into your quad muscle, and a sudden spike of arousal flares in your womanhood. Next thing you know, your thighs are swelling as your stomach growls.
Your F cup breasts lose a bit of mass as they perk up, turning into gravity defying DD cups as your ass explodes with fat and shapes into two giant basketballs. Your frames clear up as you blush, and your thoughts begin to revert to normal. You’re still immensely attracted to your boss, but now you remember all the projects he wants you to do.
“O boy… I’m so sorry….” Your boss trails off as he reads the instructions and warnings on the Bimbo Glasses box, “‘Warning: In cases of overdose make sure not to take the glasses off at any point, otherwise the reversal shot will effectively be rendered useless’…”
“I’m like, not totally sure what that means, but I’ll get to working on those spreadsheets in like, a few minutes, sir. First though, can I like, totally try on some outfits for you?” You ask with a sweet huskiness, blushing as your knees knock together involuntarily.
“Certainly, uhhh… What should I call you now?” Your boss asks, ready to forget you were ever a man.
“Like, call me Candy, Daddy!” You giggle as you tie the straps of a skimpy top around your belly, winking to your boss as you bend over to pull tight leggings up your smooth legs.
Your boobies bounce as you pull the waistband past your naval, compressing your ass and making it feel even bigger. Your boss swallows hard as your nipples perk up, a newfound desire to move sexily building inside you.
“Maybe those spreadsheets can wait till tomorrow, Candy…” Your boss smiles as he takes a seat, his lap looking like an inviting seat as his pants tent up.
“But like, your wife, sir?” You ask without a thought, instantly regretting the wall you just put up.
“She’s always wanted to try these Bimbo Glasses, her friends say a small dose makes you a lot sexier. I’ll just set it up for her, and give her enough to be okay with you moving in…” Your boss drools, lost in a new world of sexual possibilities.
“Okay, but like, could you buy it yourself? I still totally wanna use the rest I have; this ass is like, amazing, but I really liked my boobies totally bigger!” You giggle, pinching your sensitive nipples and rolling your eyes euphorically.