At the beach with Grampa
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Mirror Site -- Grampa free porn video
Here's a little story that bit me while I was working on a longer piece. I
kind of think of such stories as gargoyles. When the stonecarvers working
on the great gothic cathedrals needed a rest from making angels, they'd
carve a gargoyle. These pieces, some of them, are a way of resting while I
work on a real long story.
Also, since I created the "Mirror Site" about a year ago for Halloween, I
thought now was a good time to revisit it.
Let me know how you like the story, and, remember, "Mirror Site" is an open
universe. Read the posted stories on FictionMania for the rules, if you're
interested.
Mirror Site -- Grampa
By Ellie Dauber (c) 2001
Bam!
The slamming door woke Charlie Warrick from his afternoon nap on the living
room couch. He heard footsteps running up the steps, then another slammed
door. He got up, tucked his brown flannel shirt into his gray slacks and
followed. He could hear her sobbing through the door.
"May I please come in?" he asked.
"Go away, Grampa," came a shout through the door.
"Please, Helen," Charlie said. "Olley-olly-oxen-free." It was a game
they'd played when she was little.
"Oh... oh, all right, come in."
Helen was sitting up on her bed as he came in. Her eyes, the same deep green
as his own dear, lost Helen's, were red and swollen with tears. She wiped
them on the sleeve of her pale green blouse and pushed her long, dark blonde
hair away from her face.
Charlie pushed her book bag aside and sat down next to her in the bed. He
draped an arm over her shoulder. "I guess your first day at your new high
school didn't go very well."
Helen leaned over, resting her head on his chest, and began to sob again.
"Oh, Grampa, why did we have to leave Chicago? I had friends there; people
who knew me and liked me."
"You know the answer to that, dear. Your dad's company promoted and
transferred him. They even found a job for your mom here." He put his
other arm around her and hugged. "As far as the kids at your new school,
I'm sure that they'll like you. They just need to get to know you a little
first."
"That'll take forever."
"In the meantime then, I guess that you're stuck with me." He leaned his
bald head down and kissed her gently on her forehead.
"Yeah, but --"
"But nothing, kiddo. Say... didn't you tell me that there was a Dairy Queen
a few blocks from here?"
"Yeah, down on... on 7th Street, near the mall. Why?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm suddenly feeling a severe chocolate
sundae deficiency right about now. Care to join me?"
"I -- I don't want to."
"Maybe, but you know where it is, and I don't, so you're going to _have_ to
come." He stood up and offered her his hand. "You wouldn't want your old
Grampa to get lost now, would you?"
Helen smiled and gave in to the inevitable. "Okay, Grampa, but _you're_
buying."
***
Charlie drove slowly down the street. He was a good driver -- he'd had
himself tested every five years since he was seventy -- but at eighty-seven,
he knew his reflexes weren't as good as they had been. They were still a
few blocks from the mall when they saw the tent. Charlie stopped the car
and pointed. "It looks like the circus is in town."
He pulled the car over and parked next to a vacant lot. A large, garish
green tent filled most of the lot. Yellow banners flew from the top s of
the tent poles. Near the sidewalk was a sign, "Hall of Mystic Mirrors.
Truth Revealed; Lives Changed." In smaller print underneath were the words,
"Admission $1."
They locked the door and walked towards the tent. There was a good deal of
traffic, on foot and on the street, but no one seemed to be in the lot
except a figure sitting on a stool next to the tent. A sign hanging on the
tent above him said, "Entrance."
The figure on the stool rose as they approached. He was in his twenties, as
near as Charlie could judge, a slender man in slacks, the same green color
as the tent, a white shirt, and a green and yellow striped vest. He was
tanned with closely cropped sandy brown hair. "Hi, can I help you folks?"
"Who are you," Charlie asked, "and what's in the tent?"
The man smiled. It was the sort of smile known to salesmen worldwide. "I'm
Barker, sir. It's my name and my job. As far as what's inside, well, that,
sir and madame, will cost you each $1 to find out, but I think that you'll
find it well worth the price."
"That's a pretty good pitch, son," Charlie said. "You know, I almost ran
away to join a carnie myself when I was a boy a year or so younger than my
granddaughter here."
"You did, Grampa," Helen said. It was a story she'd never heard before.
"Why didn't you?"
"The prettiest girl I ever saw asked me not to," Charlie said. "She said
she'd miss me. Somehow that took all the fun out of the idea." He smiled,
remembering. "So I hung around town for a few years. Then -- as soon as we
were old enough -- I married her."
Helen squeezed Charlie's hand. "That -- that was so sweet."
"I never could resist a pretty girl," Charlie said. "That's why I let you
wrap me around your little finger like you do." He sighed. "You look _so_
much like your grandmother."
"I wish I could have met her."
"So do I, dear. I think that you two would have been great friends." He
paused. "Now, would you like to go inside and see this what-ever-it-is?"
Helen nodded. Charlie gave Barker $2, and the young man opened a tent flap
they hadn't noticed before.
Inside, the tent seemed bigger somehow that it had from the outside. It was
lit by a spider web of white Christmas lights strung between the tent poles
high above them. The tent was mostly filled by an enormous box, its walls
stretching maybe eight feet above the ground. There was an opening in one
side with a sign above it that said, "Enter Here."
"I guess we go in there," Helen said, pointing.
"I guess so," Charlie said. He took her hand. "But if it's like the sort
of fun houses I remember, let's be careful inside."
They walked in. They were in a narrow corridor with mirrored walls. They
had gone in about five feet when they heard a "Swoosh!" behind them. Both
turned their heads just in time to see a section of wall slide into place,
closing the doorway.
"Forward it is," Charlie said. They walked ahead. Some of the mirrors were
ordinary fun house mirrors that made them look impossibly tall and thin or
so shout and round that they almost looked like human billiard balls.
But other mirrors were odd, very odd. Charlie and Helen looked like two
young boys in Little League uniforms, a middle-aged Black couple, then a
Japanese mother and daughter in ornate, flowered kimonos.
"How in the world do they do that?" Charlie said. His image, now a young
man in Army fatigues, matched his every movement.
Helen shrugged. "I don't know, Grampa; computers maybe."
"Well, it's mighty -- Whoa!" The floor beneath them bucked like a horse.
Charlie pitched a few feet forward. He caught his balance and turned to see
if Helen was all right. There was another "Swoosh," and the wall slid into
place between them.
Charlie looked around. He was in a small, hexagonal room. The walls were
mirrored, but they seemed to be ordinary mirrors. Then they began to spin
as the lights blinked rapidly overhead.
Charlie's scalp began to tingle. He put his hand to his head and felt --
hair, hair growing out at a rapid rate even as he touched it. He grabbed a
few strands between his fingers and moved his hand to where he could see
them. They were white at first, but, as he watched -- as they grew even
longer -- they changed, thickened into a mass of dark blonde curls.
Then Charlie noticed his hand as it held the hair. It seemed to be
shrinking, the fingers growing slender and more supple-looking. His index
finger, bent by years of arthritis was straight again, and the liver spots
on the back of his hand were fading away. His nails grew a bit longer.
They looked shaped, and a faint pink polish was appearing on them.
Charlie dropped his hand and looked in the spinning mirrors. He was getting
smaller -- no, younger. The wrinkles on his face were smoothing out. His
face seemed more delicate, though. His nose wasn't as prominent, and his
bushy eyebrows were shrinking to a pair of thin arches, even as they
darkened.
His clothes were getting to big for him now. He looked like a kid. He felt
his slacks slipping down on his hips and grabbed for them. As he did, his
shirt sleeves slid down covering his hand.
He felt a tightness in his chest. He touched it with his free hand.
Something, something very sensitive was growing out form his chest. He
reached inside and felt...a nipple, a _woman's_ nipple on his still-growing
breast. He dropped his slacks and reached down inside his under shorts.
His penis was still there, but it was so very small. His balls were gone;
it felt like they were moving up inside his groin. His testicles grew
tight, forming a pair of lips. His penis shrank down between them. Then it
seemed to move inside an opening that he felt form. He stroked the new
vaginal lips and shivered at the sensation.
The changes to his body seemed to be over. He looked in the mirror and saw
-- oh, dear Lord, he saw Helen! "We... we've switched bodies somehow," he
said, almost in a whisper. As he stared in horror, his shirt changed to the
green blouse, his granddaughter had been wearing. He bent down and pulled
up his pants. They shrank to fit his new body, changing as they did to a
pair of faded jeans. He felt something moving, tightening around his new
breasts; 'her... my bra,' he thought.
In a moment more, the change was complete. The image in the mirror was
Helen down to the tassels on her blue sneakers. "No, oh, please, no,"
Charlie said. "I-I'm glad to be young again. I don't even mind being a
girl -- well, not too much anyway. But please, don't stick her in my old
body. She has her whole life to live. She shouldn't be an old man." He
banged on the wall. "Please, bring Helen here."
There was a sudden flash of light, and Charlie covered his eyes.
The wall slid away. Helen walked in. Her hair was longer now, down to her
shoulders, and she was wearing a blue blouse and matching shirt. "Are you
okay," she said. "I freaked when that wall closed.
Charlene Warrick breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her twin sister again.
"Me? You're the one that panics at things like that. Come on; let's find
our way out. I still want that chocolate sundae we talked about."
"Okay, just don't eat too much. You'll spoil your figure."
"Don't worry. Enough boys noticed my figure -- and yours -- today, cute
ones, too. I think I'm gonna like this new school. I was worried that,
maybe, with the move...."
"Hey," Helen said, "we're the Warrick girls. As long as we've got each
other we can handle anything."
A section of wall a few feet away slid opened. An "Exit" sign lit up above
it.
As the girls left the tent, they saw Barker still sitting on her stool.
"So," she said, looking up from the EBONY magazine she was reading, "did you
two like the Maze?"
"Yeah, Helen said. "Somehow, I feel better for going through it."
"Me, too," Charlene added. "I was feeling down before, but now I feel a
whole lot better."
"Nothing like the Maze," Barker said, "for a change in... attitude."
The End
This story can be posted to any free site. The usual suspects -- Welcome
back, Pyrite -- have explicit permission to do so.
Pansy
- 25.01.2022
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