From alt.sex.stories.tg Sun May  5 00:54:17 1996
Path: mordred.cc.jyu.fi!news.csc.fi!news.eunet.fi!EU.net!uunet!in1.uu.net!news.i-link.net!usenet
From: LabRat@i-link.net (Karen Mitchell)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Story - Mirror.txt
Date: Tue, 30 Apr 1996 17:43:18 -0500
Organization: I-Link
Lines: 443
Message-ID: <GephxY5faFnW090yn@i-link.net>
Reply-To: LabRat@i-link.net (Karen Mitchell)
NNTP-Posting-Host: austin-1-11.i-link.net
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit

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.

