From alt.sex.stories.tg Sun May 5 00:54:17 1996

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From: LabRat@i-link.net (Karen Mitchell)

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Subject: Story - Mirror.txt

Date: Tue, 30 Apr 1996 17:43:18 -0500

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I did not write this and you must be 18 or over to read it as it may

contain a great deal of adult explicit sexuality. If this is

offensive do not read - delete file. For those of us who enjoy ....

enjoy! Please do not ask for files by e-mail - I can barely keep up

with what I have now.

> MY WOMAN IN THE MIRROR

> by Connie L.

I always hated my older sister. That is I did until that evening

when my whole life began to turn around. From my earliest

memories it seemed, to me at least, that Molly had it easier, was

given more and was damned smug about it all. It's natural for

siblings to have an occasional conflict, but we were ALWAYS at

odds. Now I know my enmity was due to my own attitudes. It was

envy that made me hate her when we were kids and right up until a

year ago. If only we had shared sooner we might have had a

happier childhood relationship.

A year ago today I was visiting a corporation in the city where

Molly lives investigating the possibility of changing jobs and

moving to this city. Having flown out and planning to spend only

part of the day I was ill prepared for the circumstances which

finally overtook me. On this first, and happy, anniversary of

that day I thank God I WASN'T better prepared.

Everything went better than expected with the interview - I liked

them and they liked me. The job, with a large salary increase,

was mine provided the department head approved. Since he was out

of town and wouldn't be in until the following day I would have

to return to pass the final muster. "No problem", I told myself

"I'll simply get a hotel room for the night."

Having promised Mother I would drop in on Molly to make sure she

was okay I decided to discharge that obligation before finding a

room. As luck, or the hand of Fate or whatever would have it I

was drenched in a sudden downpour and splashed by a passing taxi

before reaching the building housing Molly's apartment.

It was her nearly drowned and shivering little brother rather

then the upwardly mobile young executive who rang the bell of her

apartment. "Bob! Come in," she exclaimed at the sight of me.

"What in the world happened? Did you fall in the river? Why

didn't you tell me you were coming?"

I stood with my back to her cheery fire while explaining how I

came to be in town and in such a wet and miserable condition.

"Mom insisted I surprise you. She still doesn't believe you're

all grown up and can fend for yourself."

"I'm sure you'll report back that I'm fine," she teased, "but

forget to mention that I had to rescue you from pneumonia." Molly

pushed me toward the bathroom while deftly stripping me of my

soggy suit jacket. "Pass the rest of your clothes out to me and

take a hot shower. I'll phone the cleaners downstairs and have

them pick up your things. It's early so they can probably return

them before closing tonight." In her home, her city, it never

occurred to me to question her directions.

Soon I was warm by the hot shower, enjoying the fragrance of her

lilac soap and rubbing myself dry with a huge fluffy pink towel.

"What shall I wear?" I shouted through the closed door.

"Just a minute," she replied. With the door open only a crack and

hiding myself behind it I waited for her to bring me a robe or a

pair of jeans. When I saw the flannel night gown with its square

neck and puffy sleeves she was handing me I insisted "I can't

wear THAT." The pale yellow gown was crowded with a butterfly and

daisy print and narrow lace edged the neckline, sleeves and

bottom hem.

"Well, I could bring you something sheer and sexy if you'd

prefer. Look, I live here. Alone. I don't have any men's

clothing. Be sensible, you can't stay in there all night and you

sure can't parade around here in the buff. I'd really prefer you

were covered with something and this is the best I can do."

I suspected she was taking advantage of me and my situation to

have a little fun with Little Brother but I realized she could

have been much harder on me and that I also preferred the

nightgown to being nude in front of her. So, sighing, I took the

garment from her and slipped it up over my head. As the soft

material slid down my body I felt an excitement stirring and

realized an erection had developed. I couldn't explain it, but I

can't deny it either. I was slightly turned on either by the

garment or the idea of wearing a piece of women's clothing.

Realizing I couldn't let her see me like THIS I asked meekly

through the slightly open door, "Sis, could I have my shorts

back?"

"They were soaked too. I sent everything out. Even your shoes,"

she paused a moment to let THAT sink in before sighing, "Okay.

I'll find SOMETHING for you to wear under that." I could hear

drawers opening and closing and then she thrust something through

the narrow opening. The panties were simple enough, only tiny

lace scallops along the waist and leg opening and a modest red

flower embroidered on the left front. No lace, bows, nothing

fancy. She'd probably selected them for that very reason hoping I

wouldn't raise a fuss. They may not have appeared to be anything

special to her but they would become something special to me. I

thought I'd faint before I got them up my legs and lower torso in

place. As the cool nylon glided over my flesh my erection grew

more and more rigid. Fortunately the panties were small and snug

enough to press my erect penis tightly against my belly. On

unsteady legs I left the bathroom.

"You'd better sit by the fire Cutie-pie. You still don't look

very healthy even though you DO look quite pretty in your

beddy-bye clothes." Her taunting baby talk should have made me

angry but her mention of the clothing I was wearing and her hand

sliding lightly over my buttocks increased my light-headed

feeling.

As I made my way to the chair beside the fireplace I began to

recognize the sensation and golden swirls swimming through my

brain. It was the same as the seconds before, during and right

after orgasm. The difference was that this was sustained, going

on and on and on. I wondered if it would always be like this any

time I on panties and for as long as I kept them on. I hoped I

had discovered the ultimate drugfree high.

When I was sufficiently accustomed to my new attire and calmed

down a bit I became aware that Molly was puttering around in the

kitchen. Any other day I would have gone to see if she needed

help and to be sure she was not preparing some dish I would

refuse. The fear that moving about would cause me to be overcome

once more with that exquisite sensation kept me glued to the

chair. I spent a few lone moments warning myself never to give in

to women's clothes again, regardless of how severe the

predicament. "A man could lose himself and never return," I

admonished myself silently.

Molly appeared carrying a silver tray on which stood an elegant

china tea set. For the first time I noticed how she was dressed.

She was wearing a black velvet jacket over a red satin cocktail

dress; hair upswept and her diamond jewelry was in evidence. Of

course her make-up was appropriate to the outfit. Fancy eye

shadow and long false eyelashes completed her make-up. "Going

out? Sorry if I interfered with your plans. Go right ahead. I'll

be all right."

"No, I wasn't planning to go out." Her composure as she poured

and handed me a cup of tea seemed vaguely threatening. The smile

on her ruby red lips looked friendly, but it didn't FEEL

friendly. "Sweet of you to notice," she purred, "but no, I'm not

going out." Before I could ask her why she was dressed so

formally if she planned an evening at home she steered our

conversation to talk of our parents, my hoped for new job and

finally the weather. She was up and down several times getting

this and that while we visited so it wasn't too surprising that I

missed the faint knock on the outer door and failed to react in

time to make a dash for the bathroom and hide. Suddenly I was

faced with a second formally dressed and made-up woman in the

room. "Bobby," Laura said, "this is Laura. She's the reason I

dressed so fancy. We take turns entertaining in our homes. To

ward off loneliness, you know." I couldn't move or speak. I was

humiliated to be caught dressed as I was. My shame was

considerably deepened by the realization that Molly had lulled me

into a nice little game of tea party and I had been playing a

lady-like role rather too well. The only reaction I could muster

to Laura's steady stare was a blush which made me feel as though

my cheeks were bleeding.

"This must be the brother you've told me about." Laura was

obviously speaking to Molly, but she was keeping her eyes on me.

I could almost feel them boring into me. I was certain she knew,

somehow, magically, I was wearing panties under the nightie. "Why

is he blushing so furiously? Is he that backward?"

"Oh no," said Molly supposedly coming to my rescue. "it's just

that he's never worn a nightie before. He'll get over it. Sit

down Laura. We'll have our tea." Laura sit, sipping tea and

listening to Molly's explanation of my reasons for being in town

and how I'd been drenched to the skin and chilled to the bone.

Laura took control of the evening's social activities as soon as

Molly reached the end of her tale.

"So Bob," Laura said "there is a perfectly good reason for you to

be wearing a nightgown. No reason to be ashamed. I'm not laughing

at you and if Molly did tease you I promise she won't do it

anymore. Relax. Okay?" I risked a glance up from the tea cup

clutched in my lap. Laura looked quite sincere. Molly peered at

her in a strange way. Somehow I knew my sister would follow

Laura's lead as she smiled and I smiled back.

"Okay. Sorry for acting like a dope."

"Apology accepted," Laura smiled, filling my cup again, sending

Molly off to make another pot and continuing, "actually your

attitudes are very typical of our culture, sadly so. Men go

around bragging they aren't afraid of anything and the whole time

they're terrified of doing anything which brand them as a sissy.

Isn't that stupid?"

"I suppose so." Her manner reminded me of my grade school

teachers. I felt compelled to give an answer that would please

her.

"Of course it's stupid."

"And ARE you a sissy?"

"No. Of course not."

"And putting on a pretty nightie didn't change you into one, did

it?"

"I guess not. I feel ...." My mind wouldn't supply the right

word. It was important to me to put the right label on how I

felt.

Laura took the cup and saucer from my lap asking "How DO you feel

Bob? Dirty? Sinful? Wicked? Like scum of the earth? Like a

pervert?"

"No!" Her words had made me angry. Filled with righteous

indignation I began to defend myself from her assault. "I feel

warm. Secure. I remember how I felt as a kid when Momma would hug

me for a long time. You know, if I was sick or hurt or just

scared." Leaning back to an upright position in her chair she

asked, "You feel cuddly?"

"Yes. That's it." I saw Laura standing in the doorway. She gave a

smile of encouragement, because surely she knew what was going

through my mind. I continued, "It also makes me feel goofy.

Putting on the nightie excited me sexually and I think it's wrong

to be turned on by women's clothes. It IS queer, isn't it?"

Laura chuckled softly and calmed my fears by saying, "Women's

clothing, most of it, is designed to be a turn on. They're

supposed to be visually and tactiley stimulating. We all know

they're suppose to excite the viewer, but we forget they're also

designed to excite the wearer. So, your reaction is perfectly

normal. The only men who wouldn't get even slightly turned on

when wearing women's clothing are those who successfully block

out how they feel."

THAT statement worried me a bit. I began to suspect Laura may

have had a lot of experience with men and panties in combination.

"Was your excitement the same as when you're with a woman?" she

asked. I shook my head "no" and she waited while I thought my

answer over again. Molly returned with the fresh pot of tea.

"When I become aroused with a woman it becomes imperative that I

finish what I started. The physical becomes so demanding that I

have to go on to the next step. Arousal is only part of the

process. The process of having sex, I mean, is paramount." Laura

nodded her head and leaned forward, eager for me to complete the

thought. "With this, the excitement is an end in itself. Being

aroused doesn't mean I have to DO anything. I feel pleasure and I

feel completed. It could go on forever. If it did I would simply

enjoy it. There's no need to DO. Simply BE."

"Yes," Laura said, "I know what you mean. But still, I sense too

much male pride in you. It sounds to me as though you believe

it's okay for you to wear women's things only in extreme

circumstances. You feel guilty about enjoying what Fate has

forced you to do. Right?"

"That's a fair assessment."

Molly was smiling but Laura was looking very serious. The

combination made me nervous. "Attitudes like that will be a

problem for you considering the women's movement, which is far

from over. You'll have to adopt a more liberal attitude toward

femininity if you're to be a success. You DO want to be

successful don't you?"

"Of course. Who doesn't?"

"Well then," Laura said rising to her feet, "Molly and I will

help you with your problem. We'll teach you that femininity isn't

a liability. You can best learn by experiencing femininity more

intensely then ^are at the moment. We'll help, not make fun of

you. Do you agree?" She towered over me standing so close to my

knees that I knew I couldn't have stood up unless she moved back.

Her presence was very intimidating, but I tried to resist.

"No. Not yet. What exactly are you asking me to agree to?"

"It's simple. We'll dress you as a lady. Give you a wig. Do your

make-up. Make you look pretty and feminine so you can allow

yourself to feel pretty and feminine. Then you can't look down on

on women because of their femininity. Agreed?"

"No. I ..... I need time to think it over. We could do it next

week." Her offer was tempting. I wanted to do it, but felt it was

a wrong thing to do. So, I was trying to buy some time. I felt

certain once out of here I would never allow myself to fall under

her influence again. "We can do it next week."

Laura said leaning forward to put her hands on my shoulders. "We

WILL do it next week. But we shall also do it TONIGHT." Molly

giggled while I squirmed uncomfortably, which made me terribly

conscious of the silky nylon in which I was covered from the

waist down. "We'll play 'Dress Up' tonight because it's best for

you. Because it's what I want you to do. And because you really

have no choice. Unless you want go down to the cleaners dressed

as you are. Molly will gladly loan you some nice fuzzy slippers

so you won't catch cold. Is that what you want?"

"You know it isn't."

"Right. I also know what you DO want, even if you won't admit it.

Bobbie, you may as well enjoy this because it's going to happen

anyway." Laura pulled me to my feet and slipped an arm around my

waist. I was surprised to find her height wasn't an illusion.

With the assistance of high-heels and fluffed up hair she was at

least three inches taller than I. She hugged me with the arm

encircling my waist as we started from the room. THAT was when I

gave up all hope of escape. Laura's thin frame was startlingly

powerful. I knew from experience just how rough my sister could

play. There was simply no way I could overpower the two of them.

Laura guided me to the bedroom where they played with me like an

oversized doll. Sadly, I can't report all the details. The

remainder of the evening is a blur in my mind. But a blur of

exquisite sensations. Although a few specific moments DO stand

out in my mind. Once in the bedroom they pulled the flannel

nightie off over my head. My penis was still erect, partially

from the internal pressure of all the tea I'd consumed and

partially from the excitement and anticipation. I tried to hide

it with my hands but Laura commanded, "Put your hands to your

sides. There's no point in fretting over a little detail like

that." They sent me to the bathroom and I returned in a more

relaxed state where Laura told me to remove the panties Molly had

given me, then handed me a pair of black nylon tap panties

adorned with much lace and ribbon accents. The two of them

watched, much to my embarrassment and humiliation, as I changed

from one pair to the other. The more clothing they added to my

outfit the more kindly they treated me. Putting on the black lace

bra earned me a pat on the head. Stockings were good for a kiss

on the cheek. After putting on the white patent pumps they

allowed me to totter out to the kitchen for a sandwich. Molly

used a man's electric razor on my face after which Laura did my

make-up before fitting a blonde wig on my head. My reward for

this was a gold chain necklace from which a unique medallion was

suspended. Laura made a big fuss over the unusual shape of the

thing but didn't explain its meaning -- if there was one. I was

put into a summery cotton dress with a tight waist and voluminous

skirt. I remember it was pale blue and buttoned up the back. My

wig tickled my bare shoulders devilishly whenever I turned my

head. Finally ready, by their standards, I stood looking into

the full-length mirror and saw myself for the first time. I was

astonished by the woman looking back at me. Dark hose hid my

masculine hairy legs, while the skillful application of make-up

hid most of my masculine features while emphasising and bringing

out my feminine ones. The moment was so special to me that I

doubt I'll ever be able to verbally describe it. Perhaps you'll

get some understanding of my feeling when I say I fell in love

with the, as yet nameless, "Woman in the Mirror". Or, maybe it's

better clue if I tell you that I remember thinking "If I shave my

legs I can wear sheer hose. And it wouldn't hurt to lose a pound

or two from the waist."

Finally, they urged me away from my reflection and we three

ladies sat chatting and watching television for the next few

hours. One or the other would, occasionally, admonish me to sit

up straight or keep my knees together or sip my tea rather then

gulp it. Making up the couch for me was a joint effort on the

part of the three of us. I was given a baby-doll nightie for the

night and afforded the privacy of the bathroom in which to

change. Laura and Molly each kissed me good night before retiring

to the bedroom -- to which they locked the door. My suspicion was

that they were lovers was soon confirmed by the muffled, urgent

sounds of sex coming from the bedroom. It was too much for me to

stand so I clutched the pillow tightly around my head.

After awakening me at eight the next morning Molly informed me

Laura was gone. I showered, dressed in MY clothes, the one's I'd

worn to Molly's apartment, and heartily consumed the breakfast

she provided. I felt something should be said about the previous

night's unusual activities but I didn't know how to begin the

conversation and Molly said nothing so I left it at that. Instead

she concentrated on keeping the mood optimistic concerning my

impending interview. After promising to let her know the outcome

I headed off to find out about my future. The department head

introduced himself and insisted I call him "Jerry" rather than

"Mister Johnson". He had the same easy air of self-assurance I so

admired and aspired to in successful men.

"I've read your application and resume. The reports from the

people you talked to yesterday are very favorable. Bob, I like to

meet with the people who will be assigned to my department just

to be sure they'll fit and get along. The personality chemistry

between two people is a major part of maintaining a happy and

productive environment. Agreed?"

"Of course. Qualified people are easy enough to find, but

cooperative people are often a different matter."

"Precisely. I expect you to start three weeks from Monday. You'll

have time to give your present employer notice and relocate here.

Oh, you'll have to take a physical, but you can go to my doctor

this afternoon. I understand the terms of employment and your

salary have been presented and explained. Any problems with

them?"

"None. Very reasonable."

Jerry had risen so I, knowing the interview was over, also rose

and found myself clasping his strong hand. I knew I was grinning

like an idiot, but I was extremely happy. "You mustn't tell the

others, but I have a special welcoming gift for you since I know

we're going to get along especially well," he said in a much

softer voice then he'd been using.

When Jerry handed me the gift it so took my breath away that I

had to sit. "I never would have guessed," I finally managed to

whisper.

"Look at the inscription on the back." I turned the unique

medallion over, letting its gold chain fall into my lap. "To

Christina -- Welcome to the World" read the engraving. Jerry had

obviously had the engraving done after leaving Molly's.

"How does this effect my job?"

"You'd be inclined, if you played golf, to play a round with the

boss on your day off if he asked wouldn't you?"

"Of course."

"Same thing really. No relevance to the job." Jerry smiled at me

with compassion and I thought I could see Laura lurking somewhere

deep in his blue eyes.

It's been a year since that wonderful night my sister and her TV

lover released Christina from within me. I'm fully convinced she

was there all the time and that it was to my great good fortune

Laura and Molly recognized her potential and released Christina

from where Bob kept her locked away.

Through great perseverance and a bit of help from Laura I found a

woman who happily shares my life. ALL of my life. On this first

anniversary of Christina's appearance I shall ask Sandy - my

intended - to marry me and I'm sure she'll accept. My ONLY regret

is that I shan't be able to wear a lovely white satin gown for

the wedding. But, I'll be sure to have an exquisite peignoir for

our honeymoon night -- and other nights. I know Sandy wouldn't

have it any other way.

Well, Sandy will soon be here to help me celebrate so I'd better

get busy in the kitchen. Perhaps I'll write more later and tell

how our life together is progressing.