Story - Mirror

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 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg 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.

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.