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Mirror Site: The Right Things free porn video
Mirror Site: The Right Things
By Dan Garcia
Stan Barr walked down the street. The scene perfectly
matched his mood. Any observer could have told you the
street was definitely in some city, but the buildings were
decrepit, and any observer would have an urge to leave very
quickly. The buildings seemed devoid of inhabitants, except
for shadows, creeping along, a hovering threat. Stan didn't
care about that though.
He was depressed, very much so. It wasn't the fault of poor
upbringing, being poor, or anything like that. He was
intelligent, he went to a good college, his grades were
good. He was a nice guy. There were probably a lot of
people who wished they could be in his shoes. But that
didn't make him happy. He lacked a simple, basic ability,
the ability to make friends. Keeping them was no problem
for him, but making them was a major problem. In his three
completed semesters in college, he hadn't made one friend,
though he had dozens of acquaintances. Life was hell for
him.
A cold wind was blowing, and Stan's light jacket wasn't
enough to keep out the cold. Not that it mattered. Stan
just trotted down the street, with no particular
destination in mind. He passed the time thinking up tunes.
Maybe he'd get around to playing them on his guitar, and
maybe he wouldn't. He might even write out a tab for it if
he liked it enough. Then he saw what looked like a circus
tent in an empty lot. The bright colors of the tent
contrasted with the rest of the scene. Stan felt an
indescribable desire to see what it was, even though he
didn't really feel like it.
As he approached, a young man, stepped out of the tent. He
was dressed as a showman.
"Why hello there, Stan. You can call me Barker. It's my
name and it's my job," the man said with a smile.
"How did, you... never mind," Stan said, looking at the
tent, and at the sign next to the entrance, proclaiming to
all the world that this was the 'Hall of Mystic Mirrors.
Admission of $1.'
Stan reached for his wallet, and saw Barker's features
change from a winning, salesman's smile to a look of
concentration or deep thought, then to a frown.
"I don't think you should go in there Stan," said Barker,
looking concerned.
Stan just threw his money at him, mesmerized by the tent,
for some odd reason he couldn't explain. Stan went into the
tent.
Barker stood there, and simply shook his head.
"Oh, my. I think I'll need a bit of help with this."
***
Stan went into the tent, and saw another entrance, this
into a much more permanent looking structure. There was a
sign above it telling him to 'Enter Here.' Stan walked
through the entranceway, and as soon as he did, heard the
sound of the door closing behind him. Stan turned and eyed
the spot where the door had been warily, but turned towards
the mirror lined corridor.
Walking past the mirrors, he saw at first only what you
would expect. Mirrors that made him fat, tall, short, thin,
and everything of that sort. As he continued, the effects
got better and better.
There were mirrors that showed him as an old man, a young
girl, an Asian woman. The effects were incredible. Stan
didn't know how it all worked. He usually could get a sense
of how things worked, but he was completely mystified. This
was definitely worth the dollar, and brightened his day
significantly. Then he came to a mirror with an image of a
young woman, dressed fashionably, with a backpack on. For
some reason this image was much more compelling. He stood
there staring for a few moments before moving on.
He finally came to a six sided room, one side being the
door he had walked through. There were mirrors on all the
walls showing his image. That was when the door he had come
in through closed suddenly. Stan jumped around and simply
looked at the wall where the door had been a minute ago. He
looked at the wall closely. That was when the walls seemed
to start to spin. Slowly at first, then faster and faster.
That was when his image began to change.
He lost weight quickly, and his hair began to grow out. He
lost a few inches of height. He could feel that the changes
in the mirror were actually happening to him. His hair,
originally a moderately dark brown was now blond, his brown
eyes were blue. He felt a tightness against his chest as it
expanded and was pressured by his shirt. His hips grew
wider, putting pressure there too. His waist shrank, and he
felt a pulling sensation in his groin. And during all this,
he could do nothing but stand there silently. Then the
changes to his body concluded, and his clothes changed,
changed into the same fashionable clothing and backpack
that the young woman in the mirror had been wearing, the
one which he now bore an amazing resemblance to. Then Stan
blacked out.
***
Stacy Barr stepped out of the tent to see two of her
friends Lara, her roommate, and Teresa.
"Happy now, Stacy," Lara called, shaking her head. Stacy
knew she took too much pleasure in the simple things in
life.
"Yeah," Stacy said, then turned to where Barker was still
standing, and thanked the young woman for the mirror show.
The three friends then went home, leaving this dark, dreary
and dangerous neighborhood as quickly as they could.
Stacy was lying in bed later that night, alone, with Lara
just outside, in the hall, talking on her cell phone. The
door was closed, but she could still hear her talking. She
sighed contentedly. She felt as though today had been the
best day of her life, but it had been no different from any
other. Then an old man appeared in her room. Just appeared.
Stacy screamed and the old man cringed. He was dressed in
something that could best be described as a bathrobe. He
looked old in a dignified sort of way. He took the moment
of her confusion to mutter a few unintelligible words.
Stacy shook her head, and Stan looked at his surroundings.
And then he looked down. There was another scream, though
this one wasn't anywhere near as intense or loud. The old
man had been prepared for that one though, and so simply
shook his head.
"Are you through, Stan," asked the old man.
"Who are you, how did you know my name, and why am I in a
girl's body," Stan asked, half afraid and mostly angry.
"I am a wizard, that is how I know your name, and as to why
you are in possession of a female body, that is a bit more
involved. Oh and by the way, 28," said the old man with a
smirk. He had caught the question and the answer before
Stan had a chance to answer. Stan sat there stunned, his
anger ebbing already.
"Now that's better," the old man, pulling up a chair to the
side of the bed Stan was lying in. "No one should disturb
us, and no one heard you scream... twice. In any case,
Stan, you have a decision to make tonight. Do you want to
stay a girl," he said, bluntly and earnestly.
Stan started to answer when the wizard held up his hand.
"Now don't rush this, Stan. A lot's at stake here. The
simple answer may be to change back, but are you happier
this way or the old way," he asked.
"Well," Stan started. He paused, thinking, searching his
feelings. The answer surprised him. "This way. I guess I'd
like to stay this way," he said, slowly, with great thought
and deliberation.
"Now wait a moment. I'm not done. I figure I'll give you
fair odds. Anyway, I'm here for a reason. The choice is
yours, but I wouldn't be here if it were that simple," said
the wizard. The wizard took stock, then began again.
"It is true that you are happier this way, I can tell that.
However, your decision will send you down one of two paths.
Each has it's perks. First, you could stay as you are, as
Stacy. Tomorrow you would meet a man named Fred Garner. You
two would eventually fall in love, get married, have
children, and live long, very happy, lives.
"However, Stan has an important day for himself tomorrow.
You see, Stan, tomorrow a talent agent would find you, you
would be discovered. You would get a record contract. You
would become a very prominent recording artist. You would
make millions happy through your music, inspire love and
happiness, and even stop a war through the impact you would
have in your music. However, you would die young, after a
moderately long career, and would be unhappy through most
of your life. So the choice is yours," the wizard said,
sitting back in his chair.
Stan just lay there, stunned. Happiness. A family. It could
be his. But there was the music, the happiness he could
create. But he would have to stay as miserable as he was
now. His head swarmed with possibilities.
"I don't know what to think, what to do. What do you
recommend," asked Stan.
He really didn't know what to think. The wizard was taken
aback.
"I can't tell you what to think. That is up for you to
decide. But," the wizard said slowly, thinking. "But, let
me give you this advice. Life is only worth living if some
of us at least do the right things sometimes. Not everyone,
and not all the time. But the right things sometimes
require sacrifices, sometimes great sacrifices. And it is
up to each and every one of us to decide which sacrifices
are too great for any one person to bear," the wizard said.
After saying it, he sat back, happy with how that had come
out. Stand pondered more, for several more minutes. Then he
lifted his head up out of his hands where it had been in
great thought.
"I think," he started, "that I would be happier as Stacy.
But, I don't think that it would be right. I don't think
could do it and turn my back on what you tell me will bring
such happiness to many more people. So," Stan halted here,
"I think I want to return to being Stan, if for no other
reason than I think it is the right thing."
The wizard nodded gravely, happy that Stan had chosen the
way he had. Not even such a powerful wizard as himself
could have foreseen or affected Stan's judgment. It was his
decision and his alone. And the wizard, for one, thought he
had made the right choice. The wizard muttered a few more
unintelligible words, and for Stan Barr, the world once
more went black.
***
The next day, a talent agent did indeed find Stan, and
decided to pick him up and sign him. Stan began recording
his first record shortly thereafter. For the first year or
two, the recording company forced Stan into the mold of a
teenybopper type. But Stan got tired of this, and finally
was able to break the mold.
His career from that point on featured hit after hit,
innovation after innovation. He was popular without losing
his dignity. And after twenty years in the business, he was
hit by a car, and died a few days later. He had had a great
impact on the world of music, and had reinvigorated the art
of popular music. He was treated with about as great a
respect as a ferocious media could muster, and was loved by
fans the world round, for his was a truly wonderful gift to
the world.
However, true to the wizard's words, even though he never
remembered them, the Hall of Mystic Mirrors tent, or the
events of that one fateful day, he was miserable throughout
his life. He never married, and only dated sparingly. But
he wasn't without compensation in this regard. He had
feeling through the remainder of his life that he had
somehow done the right things in life. It was all he
needed.
Dani
- 14.12.2022
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