Mirror, Mirror

by Jennifer White

   

When Roger saw the little inn on the hillside, he knew that he had found the right place. The scenery was lovely, it was in a quiet remote location, and there weren't too many cars. He had been looking for a place to get away from it all, so he could finish up his latest novel. His last work had sold a modest number of copies, and his editor was anxious for him to complete his latest manuscript. The inn would be the perfect place to inspire him, so he could finally wrap everything up.

He pulled in, and rang the bell at the front desk. An attractive young woman greeted him warmly, and registered him for a room

"Would you like a view of the lake, or the forest?" she asked.

"The lake is on the west side?" he asked.

"Yes, sir" she replied.

"You can call me Roger" he said warmly. "Sir is too formal."

"Okay, Roger" said the young lady. "You can call me Ann. And yes, the lake is west from here. There are beautiful sunset views. Of course, the sunrise above the forest trees is also breathtaking. But many of our guests prefer the lake side."

"Then lets go with the lake" said Roger.

"Very well. Room 205. Here's your key. Breakfast is served in the dining room over there, starting at 7:00. Call down here if you need anything."

"I just need some quiet, and this seems like the perfect spot" he said.

"It is. I'll make sure that nobody bothers you. We don't have very many guests during the week, so everything should be nice a peaceful for your stay here."

"Thank you, Ann" said Roger.

"Not a problem. Bye-bye now."

"Good bye" he said, as he turned and headed up the stairs towards his room.

And what a room it was! There was a quaint fireplace, along with antique furniture. He opened the lacy curtains to look out. There was a small balcony looking over the deserted lake. Only the geese honking as they few made any noise louder than the wind and the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore. No people were in sight. In fact, the lake looked completely deserted.

Roger spotted a canoe by a dock behind the hotel. He could go out on the lake, and perhaps find an even more remote spot to do some writing. But that would have to wait until tomorrow; it was starting to get dark. He left the curtains open, so he could see the sunset. Nobody was going to be looking into his room anyway, not from the deserted lake.

He went to put away his clothes. He opened his suitcase, laying it on the king sized canopy bed. He took out some things, and went to put them in the dresser drawer. But when he opened the drawer, he discovered that it was already full. He tried another drawer. That one was empty, so he put his things into there.

He wondered why a dresser drawer at an inn might have clothes in it already. Women's clothes, by the look of it. Perhaps someone rented the room by the week, and hadn't wanted to unpack. Or maybe one of the employees stayed in that room normally. He shrugged his shoulders, and went about unpacking his suitcase.

When he got to his hanging clothes, he went into the closet, and discovered that half of it was already full of clothes. White lacy skirts, blouses and dresses. Rather appropriate, considering the lacy decor of the room. It was quite a change of scene from the stark modern decorations of his home. Yes, this new scenery would help inspire him, so he could compete his book.

He had written himself into a corner, and he didn't know how to tie up the loose ends nicely. He was even considering going back and rewriting a few chapters, so that things would flow better. He thought about all this, as he took his notebook computer out from his backpack, and set it up on the desk.

As he was plugging it in to the power outlet, he could swear that he saw someone moving behind him. He turned, but nobody was there.

"Maybe this room is haunted" he joked out loud to himself, followed by a chuckle. It must be his nerves, as he was staring down the deadline. Maybe he should go downstairs and have a drink at the bar to calm his nerves. But no, that might make him sleepy. He needed to work all night. He let out a sigh, as he hit the power button to boot up his computer.

He suddenly had a strange feeling, as if someone was staring at him. He turned, but nobody was there. What was going on? He went to double check that he had locked the door when he came into the room. Something was making him freak out a bit. The door was locked, but he engaged the dead bolt, as an extra precaution. Something didn't feel right to him.

He went to walk back to his computer, when he saw something strange out of the corner of his eye. It was in the mirror. Something didn't look right to him. He faced the mirror, and gasped when he saw it: the reflection in the mirror wasn't him.

Roger looked down at himself. Yes, it was him he saw. But the reflection in the mirror was completely different: it was the most attractive woman that he had ever seen in all his life. She had a full head of curly black hair that cascaded down to her shoulders, surrounding her perfect face. Her eyes were dark and piercing, her eyebrows thin and sharp, tapering down to a smaller and smaller size at the ends.

Her lips were moist looking, colored a deep red. Her shoulders were small, her arms thin, her hands and wrists looking soft and delicate. Her fingernails were painted the same red as her lips, and they were perfectly shaped into smooth ovals. But it was hard to stare at her hands, when her full bosom was so exposed to him. Wow, what a rack she had. Huge, full, and firm. Hard erect nipples showed right through her tight lacy white blouse.

She had an incredible narrow waist, which was covered with her skirt that came down to almost her ankles. From what he could see of her delicate feet, they were inside of shoes with tall thin stiletto heels, ending in a sharp point. She was stunning. Gorgeous. Flawless.

But she was there in the mirror, looking back at him. He wondered what kind of trick mirror this was, hanging on the wall by the dresser. How was it possible to look in the mirror, and to see a woman, instead of his own reflection? She was so gorgeous too! Roger could barely even look away. His eyes locked onto hers, and he could only stare at her.

He wondered something. If she was a reflection in the mirror, would she move as he moved? He reached up, and put his hands on his chest, his thumbs touching the area where his nipples were. In the mirror, the woman he saw did the exact same thing, at the exact same time. Cool! He could control her. What if he took his shirt off?

As he unbuttoned his shirt down the front, so did the chick in the mirror. As he removed it and tossed it aside, so did she. Now they were both bare-chested, and what a sight it was! The woman's breasts were so full and firm, and ever so slightly upturned. Around her large erect nipples was a wide ring of dark color. Roger couldn't help but to feel a tingle in his pants, as the sight of her bare chest excited him.

If he could make her take her shirt off.... he quickly unzipped his fly, and pulled his pants off, even as he kept his eyes locked onto hers. As he moved, she did the same in the mirror. Except that her breasts jiggled as she moved, and her long hair hung down. But now he was in just his boxers, while the woman in the mirror just had on her panties. Roger smiled. This was going to be great!

He reached down, and pulled on the elastic band of his boxers, as did she. He started to slowly work his boxers down from his waist, and the woman in the mirror did too! He let them fall to the floor, and kicked them off. So did she. Now he was completely naked, standing in front of the mirror. And so was the girl who's reflection showed in the glass instead of his own. This perfect beauty was completely nude in front of him! He gaped at her, as he could not take his eyes off of her. And needless to say, he was now completely aroused, and fully erect.

Roger felt cold, from his lack of clothes. With the door wall open to the balcony, and the sun having gone down, cool air was starting to enter the room. The woman in the mirror had her nipples all hard from it. He could see the "goose bumps" on her skin. His hands moved over his chest area, to keep it a little warm, as did hers in the mirror.

Roger shivered, as did the woman in the mirror, in perfect synchronization. He smiled at her, as she smiled the same smile at him. He licked his lips, as she licked hers. He ran his hands through his hair, as she did too. He stood up taller, and stuck forward his chest, while holding his shoulders back, the same as she did. And then his mouth moved to forms the words "I want you", in perfect sync with her.

He wondered why he had just done that. In fact, his last couple of actions seemed strange to him. He watched the woman's reflection in the mirror as he cupped has hands out in front of his chest, then seductively started to rub his nipples. His mouth formed the word "Oooh", but no sound came out of it. He giggled, and moved his hands down his body, touching himself between his legs.

Seeing the girl in the mirror do all of that was exciting and even more arousing. But it wasn't something that he would do. He became concerned when the woman's image in the mirror started to dance, swaying her hips from side to side, almost like a girl in a strip club. The fact that she was moving like that, meant that he was moving like that too.

A horrible realization swept over him: the image in the mirror wasn't moving in sync with him anymore. It wasn't his actions controlling what she did. No: it was her movements that were reflecting onto him. He was moving, because of what she was doing! It was very frightening. A few moments ago, he had controlled her. But now, somehow, she was controlling him!

He had just undressed her. Now she turned the tables on Roger. She started to dress up. And was forced to do the same, as he reflected her actions. She reached down and opened up a dresser drawer, as he did the same. She pulled out a pair of lacy white panties with frilly trim. He did the same. He rued the fact that he was in a room where the drawers were full of women's clothes, because she now stepped into her panties. He was forced to do the same thing as her. Now both he and the woman's reflection in the mirror were wearing panties.

But that wasn't as bad as the next time. Now they both reached down into the dresser drawer, in sync with each other. They pulled out something else this time: a bra. Roger was pulling on a bra, reaching behind himself and fastening it with the expertise of someone who had worn a bra for all their life. He stood there looking in the mirror. He was wearing a bra and panties now!

Next came a pair of dark nylons, followed by a garter belt. Forced to act in sync with the woman in the mirror, Roger put them on too. He recoiled on the inside, as he saw the woman in the mirror reach down again, and remove a half-slip from the dresser drawer. He was holding one in his hands too. And how, both he and the reflection were putting it on. It felt so weird to have the soft silky material of the slip touch the nylon around his legs.

Roger continued to stare into the piercing eyes of the woman in the mirror. Her face was smiling now, making him smile back at her. It was a terrifying experience to realize that a woman's reflection was controlling him. He tried with all his might to turn away from the mirror. Maybe he could break her connection to him if he looked away. But her grasp on him was like iron, and even moving a single muscle in his body felt like moving a ten ton rock. He just could not do it.

But now, something else happened, which drove Roger's fear to a whole new level. It was her voice. He could hear it in his head.

It started with just a distant echo, barely discernible, but just loud enough to sense. Had he just noticed it? Had it been there all along? Or was it growing louder? He couldn't quite make out the words yet, they could have been in a foreign language for all he could tell. He could only sense the sound of a distant female voice, echoing between his ears, in his own head.

"Oh... I can feel your body's warmth" said the voice.

"Who are you? What are you doing?" thought Roger in response to her. "Stay out of my head!"

"I'm already in your head" she replied, her voice a delicate whisper. As she spoke to him, it was as if her voice was moving about inside his head. Sometimes from the left, or sometimes from the right. Above, below, in front and in back. She seemed to be everywhere at once, as her words became louder. Instead of the echoes of words, he could hear them directly now, as if she had become closer.

"Very interesting" she said. "So you are a writer. A man of words. I like that in a man. I find literate men to be very attractive. Don't you?"

"No!" said Roger. "I don't find any men attractive."

That set off the sound of her laughter in his head. It was a chilling sound.

"You are right to be frightened of me" said the voice. "Look at me in the mirror. The reflection you see is my true body. I have been trapped behind the glass for so long! Now I've finally found someone I could make a connection with. As you look into my eyes, you see that I am far more powerful than anything you could ever imagine. Do not try to resist me. It would be foolish of you to even try."

Roger was in a state of panic now. How could he drive her from his mind?

"You silly, silly man" she said. "I can hear your every thought. Even if you were powerful enough to plot against me, I would know what you were up to, even before you were! I'm inside of you now, and it is only a matter of time before I am able to take total control from you."

"I'll never let you be in control!" spat Roger.

"Darling, I'm already in control of you. Watch."

Against his will, Roger turned away from the mirror, and walked to the closet. There, he looked through the clothing hanging on the rack, until he found a pretty red dress. Forced by her will, he took it off the hanger, and put it on. Then he slide his feet into a pair of the heels that were on the floor of the closet.

Roger felt he woman as she started to search through his entire mind. He felt naked, vulnerable, and exposed, as she was able to read all of his thoughts, and all of his memories.

"So you are stuck on your book" she said. "I see the answer to your dilemma."

"You do?" he asked.

"Yes" she said.

Roger found himself walking towards his computer, and sitting down, all under the woman's control. She opened up the file containing his book, and started to type. She had full access to his mind, so she was able to produce words that exactly matched Roger's style. But where she was taking things, he didn't like at all.

The main character was a man who he saw as very much like himself. The woman was writing now, the words flowing. She had the main character come closer to solving the mystery. But when the character reached the point where his motivation had locked Roger into a corner, she made things take an unexpected turn: she had the main character seduce the villain. The problem was the villain was another man!

"No!" he yelled, in his mind. "You can't write that!"

"I just did" was her curt reply.

Roger looked on in horror, as she wrote a hot sex scene, where the main character, who he saw as himself, made love with another man. Her writing was quite graphic and juicy. Now that she had made the character profess his love for the other man, all of the pieces of the story came together, and it wrapped up in a neat and tidy conclusion.

It was a wonderful solution to his dilemma, with all of the loose ends wrapping up neatly. The only problem was that his book, his master work, now included a love scene between two men, one of which he saw as himself! He couldn't let that go to his publisher! He looked on in horror as the woman brought up his email program, attached the story, and sent it off to the publishers for consideration.

"There" she said. "Now your work is done. Now you can relax, as you become me."

Roger had been so riveted in watching her as she completed his work, that he hadn't noticed some subtle changes that had gone on. The woman made him stand up, and walk over to the mirror. He opened up a drawer, and found a hair brush there. The woman made him start to brush his hair. In the mirror, the brush ran the long locks around her face. Roger recoiled inside, as he saw something out of the corner of his eye: his own hair was long now too. Instead of his natural blonde, it was dark and curly. It was her hair.

The realization was overwhelming. It wasn't just his mind that was being taken over: it was his body. The woman that had entered his mind was somehow able to alter his body too, making it become like hers.

"You understand now" she said. "You are becoming me."

"No!" said Roger. "No!!!!!!!!!!!'

"There is nothing you can do now" said the woman. "Already, there are many changes."

She made Roger's hands move over his chest. Through his bra, he could feel them. Breasts.

"They will continue to grow, until the reach the right size. My size. In fact, your whole body is in the process of becoming mine. Did you notice that you're already a couple of inches shorter than you were before? Or how about between your legs. Have you checked down there lately?"

Roger's hand moved down between his legs. He could still feel his penis down there, but it was tiny now, the size it had been when he was a child. It was shrinking, disappearing. Soon, he would have a pussy there. He was going to become a woman! The deepest fear possible for a man to feel shot through his mind, paralyzing his thoughts.

The woman now made Roger walk over to the wall across the room. She made him stare at the picture there. It depicted an older woman, sitting next to a vase of flowers.

"That is your mother" said the woman. "Its your mommy."

"No it isn't" replied Roger. "I've never seen her before."

"Really?" asked the woman. "Then perhaps you can recall what she looks like."

Roger searched his mind, to remember what his own mother looked like. He recalled what she looked like when she was cooking dinner for his birthday. She looked like.... the woman in the picture. No! That had to be wrong! What about for Christmas? He could see her smiling face as he held up the pretty dress he had received as a gift. She looked just like the woman in the picture, only younger. No! He had never received a dress for Christmas! That couldn't be right! Those weren't his memories.... they were hers. Gina's. Her name was Gina. He knew it now.

"You understand now, that I am erasing you" she said. "Soon, the only memories left inside will be mine. And when your memories are gone, the only thing left in here will be me. You will be vanquished into nothingness, and only I will remain. Your body is changing to become mine. Your mind is changing to become mine. Very soon, you will be me."

Roger was desperate now. He needed something he could hold on to. A rock that was so solid, she could not change it. He needed to find something that was at the core of his being, and use its strength to keep Gina at bay. If he could hang on to just a little bit of himself, he could keep her from completely taking over.

What could he find? What was at the core, him? At last he found it. Something that was his bedrock. Something she could never touch. His love for Brandi. His first girlfriend. The one he first made love with. The one who was his everything, until she had to move away. She had always been in his heart. Even after she married another man, he had always carried a torch for her. He had remained single, in the hopes that some day she would return to him. He would hold on to Brandi. Nothing could change his feelings for her.

"You think your precious Brandi will save your from me?" asked Gina. "Remember, I can hear all of your thoughts."

Roger concentrated on Brandi. Her face. How it felt to touch her soft skin. How it felt to make love with her.

"You still don't get it, do you" said Gina. "You men can be so dense. Very well. Just keep trying. You'll see."

"Brandi, Brandi, Brandi!" thought Roger, as he remembered what it felt like to hold her body next to his. He could remember what it felt like on the night when they first made love together. It was so clear in his mind, as if he was still there in her room, laying on her bed, their hands exploring each other's bodies.

She had been breathing hard, panting, as her hands touched him all over. He had lifted up her pink skirt, and put his hands underneath to remove her panties. He remembered how thrilled he was as he pulled them down away from her, and had let them fall to the floor. His hands had returned there, under her skirt, where he explored.

For the first time in his life, his eager hands came into contact with her huge erect penis. He had fondled it, feeling it throbbing, running his hands over the hair on her balls, before lowering his head, and putting his mouth around it. She had moaned to him, as she wrapped her powerful arms around him, pulling him in closer, making him feel so delicate and weak.

He had started to let in more and more of her penis, until it was touching the back of his throat. She was so big! Brandi had put her hands in his long soft hair, and called him by his name, as he used his tongue to heighten her arousal. Brandon had been so excited too, putting his hands onto the soft mounds of Roger's chest. It felt so wonderful for a man to touch him like that. Roger had wanted Brandon to come in his pussy, but being young, Brandon could not control himself, and soon there was the splash in Roger's mouth, as Brandon climaxed.

"That's such a good memory" said Gina. "Brandon was such a handsome boy."

If Roger could have cried, he would have. Even as he had been thinking of his first love, Gina had altered his mind so that he only remembered her first lover. He tried to recall the name of his first girl, but he couldn't. The name Brandon sort of rang a bell, but then he realized that the boy's name was Thomas. Yes. Thomas, with his young excitable cock. Roger licked his lips, recalling all of the times he had laid down, and let Thomas explore his soft body, as he spread his legs, letting him into his warm wet pussy.

"I didn't have a pussy!" said Roger in his mind. "No!"

"Search your memory" said Gina. "You can't remember ever having anything else, can you?"

Roger tried to, but Gina was right: all he could recall was always having a pussy. He had always been a girl, for all of his life. From when she was young, until this day, she had always been female. A penis was something you let your man put into your pussy. It wasn't something that she would have had on her body.

Roger wondered why she had even been thinking about that. Having a penis? How absurd! She reached down between her legs, and felt the familiar pussy there. Yes. Roger was a woman. She had always been a woman. For all of her life. She was born as a girl. She had grown up and blossomed into becoming a young woman. She could remember her mother helping her put on her first bra, as her boobs had started to bud and grow.

She remembered her first period, and being so proud that on that day, she became a woman, not just a girl. She remembered how proud her mommy had been of her. So much of her life flashed before her eyes in a moment. But then she remembered that terrible day, when she had gone to the inn with her lover Thomas.

She hadn't known that Thomas had cheated on her, nor that the woman he cheated with was actually a witch. She had come to the inn to spend a weekend with Thomas. It was then that the witch discovered them together, and punished her by putting her behind the glass. It had been ten full years since then, to the day.

Now her Thomas was gone forever. But at least she was free from her prison behind the glass! She was alive again! She could feel! She strutted around the room, threw her head back and laughed. She was herself again, not aged a day since she had first been trapped behind the mirror.

Gina looked at the man's things in the room, and she shook her head. She felt sorry for the poor man, but she couldn't stand it living behind the mirror anymore. When she had her chance to become free, she had to take it. Now she could live out the rest of her life. She packed up her things in the man's suitcase, leaving his things in the dresser and the closet.

She then took the man's car keys, and headed out the door, her suitcase in hand. She was free. Now she could resume her life. After all that time trapped in 2 dimensions behind cold glass, she needed to find a lover right away, so she could satisfy her craving for a man, which had built up over the past ten years! She hurried out of the room, not noticing out of the corner of her eye, that as she moved, the reflection in the mirror was that of a poor helpless man, now himself trapped behind the glass.....

  

  

  

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