Thangaiku Theriyaamal Amma Magalai Oothen
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Through The Mirror free porn video
Through the Mirror
Author's Note: A foray into magical transformation. Meteor Strike wasn't
really magical so this is a first attempt. Rarely do I start and finish
a story on the same day. I hope this one satisfies.
Martin Christi woke up Saturday morning. He took a deep breath and tried
to let the previous week of stress and turmoil go away. Today he had
time for himself. He extracted himself from the bed and as he stood up
his nightgown dropped down into place. He strolled to the bathroom.
After taking his morning relief he pulled the nightgown off and stepped
into the shower.
Twenty minutes later his morning ritual was complete. He felt refreshed
and dressed in jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes. He suddenly felt the
desire to take a drive.
The weather was perfect for late spring. Warm enough to put the top down
and enjoy the open air. Riding with the top down and some good music was
one of the best ways Martin found to lose the stress of everyday life,
the other was to dress up in one of the outfits he kept stored in a
closet in the extra bedroom of his little house where he lived by
himself.
He punched the button and the garage door rumbled open. The engine of
his Mustang came to life and he backed out onto the street. He checked
to be sure the garage was closing up and headed down the street. First
stop would be to pick up a breakfast sandwich at the nearby fast food
place. It wasn't healthy but some days you just have to feed your worst
desires.
After pulling away from the drive-thru he looked up and down the street
trying to decide which way he wanted to go. Left. He turned and began
his morning trek. He wandered through town seemingly turning at random
based on just what direction felt interesting at the time. He avoided
getting on any highways wanting to stay on quieter streets and at slower
pace. As he cruised through one neighborhood he spotted a sign for an
estate sale. He decided to take a look.
He walked into the house; it appeared many had already been through to
claim much of the items. Things appeared to be in a state of disarray.
There was a folding table with a couple people sitting behind it who
looked to be in charge, he approached them.
"Hi," he offered a smile, "I was driving around and saw the signs,
thought I'd take a look around."
"Welcome," a lady in a white tee answered, "there are still a few really
good things left. Feel free to take a look. Anything you find is for
sale."
"Thanks," Martin answered and wandered off.
As he wandered from room to room he overheard a couple ladies talking.
"Six months and nothing," the first explained. "Just disappeared."
"Well, maybe he decided to take a trip, or start over," the other
responded.
"With nothing?" the first answered. "His car is still in the garage, his
clothes all seem to be here, I heard his sister even found his luggage
was still in closet. Normally, they wouldn't sell things off so quickly
but it is so outside his character to do anything like this, and the
family can't afford to keep the house or pay any of his bills. He was
just such a loner and to disappear. Well, what are they to do? I heard
they will hold the money from this sale in case he shows up again but
nobody expects that."
"How strange," Martin thought to himself as he wandered the rooms. He
walked into one room and sorted through some DVDs and CDs, saw a couple
that interested him and took them with him. In another room he spotted a
mirror over in the corner.
It was a free standing full length mirror. The frame and stand were made
of some kind of wood, but it looked old and worn. He imagined himself
standing in front of it wearing one of his special outfits. It would be
perfect for the other bedroom. He wasn't all that handy fixing things
but he imagined he could sand it down a bit and stain it again to give
it a fresh look.
He realized he couldn't handle the discs and the mirror so he put down
the discs. He didn't want to take a chance someone else would decide to
take the mirror while he took the other things up front.
He wrestled with the mirror trying to find the right way to maneuver it
down through the doors and down the hall without banging the wooden base
against anything, and when that was secure the mirror itself seemed to
want to twist. At last he got to the table in the front room.
"Oh, very nice choice," a second lady at the table cooed at him.
"I saw it and just couldn't resist it" Martin told her, "I have more
things I wanted but couldn't manage them all. Can I leave this here
while I go get them? You won't let anyone else have it?"
"No, dear," the lady smiled. "I think this item picked you as much as
you picked it."
"Great," Martin offered a smile and went back to fetch his movies and
music. "Weird," he thought as he worked his way back to them.
He paid for his purchases, managed to get the mirror back to his car.
Good thing the weather was nice, there was no way he could have gotten
the mirror in the car with the top up. He pulled a blanket he kept in
the trunk out and covered the mirror to prevent the sun from shining out
at other drivers.
He drove back home excited about his purchases and to see the mirror in
his special bedroom.
A short time later Martin stood back and looked at the mirror in its new
home in the corner of the bedroom. It looked like it belonged there;
perhaps the refurbishment could wait a bit, no need to start on a
project like that now. Instead he wanted to see it in use for just what
he bought it for.
Martin crossed the room to the closet and pulled open the door. There
was a selection of dresses and skirts just waiting to be brought out. He
checked them over trying to decide just what sort of mood he was in.
Martin didn't just collect dresses; he also collected pieces that
allowed him to imagine himself in different times or different
professions.
He pushed one thing after another along the bar deciding not to wear it:
the WAV uniform, the flapper dress, old nurse's dress and cap, a couple
regular dresses. At last he found the one that seemed right for the
moment. A little black dress.
He removed it and carefully laid it across the edge of the bed and went
to the dresser. Bra and panties joined the dress on the bed. "What about
hosiery? Yes, no? Stockings or pantyhose?" Martin struggled to decide
just what he wanted to do but he loved having to make the choice. At
last he pulled a pair of black pantyhose from the drawer and began
changing.
It took him some time to get changed. He didn't do this every day,
indeed, some days he didn't go to this extreme but today felt special.
He finished his makeup, put on a wig with long platinum blond hair and
returned to the closet. The final touch, a pair of black sling-back
stiletto heels.
Before moving to the mirror he ran his hands down his body making sure
the dress was smooth and ready to be seen. Then he noticed his wrist was
bare. He'd almost forgotten his jewelry!
Back at the dresser he went into the jewelry box and located a gold
necklace on a fine chain, a couple earrings, a bracelet and a watch.
Again, he took a look over down his body, gave his breasts a little
adjustment, and then moved to the mirror. He kept his eyes averted until
he was standing where he thought the best view would be. Then he closed
his eyes, raised his head, and opened them.
At first he saw the woman he wanted to be. She looked fine,
sophisticated, and sure of herself. Then he started seeing the man who
was pretending to be someone he wasn't but wanted to be. His heart felt
like it dropped.
"This isn't what I wanted to feel like," he moaned. He started at the
bottom of the reflection. His feet a bit too large, his legs looked
really good, hips and middle were both okay, arms and shoulders were
wrong and his face, even though he'd done a really good job on his make-
up he still saw Martin there. Was it because he was being too critical
of himself? Or would others see the same thing? He never had the nerve
to try leaving his house like this. Better to keep his fantasy than find
out it was all wrong.
He felt a tear start to form, he stepped forward and gripped the side of
the mirror, his hair fell down around the sides of his face. He closed
his eyes and the tear fell and splashed on the wooden base for the
mirror.
Martin didn't see the blue glow that emanated from the place the tear
landed or the blue light flow up around the frame of the mirror and fade
away.
Finally, he tried to pull himself together. He blinked away another
tear. "Damn it," he rasped, "pull up your panties and be a big girl.
Nobody is perfect. Be who you are."
He lifted his head and looked in the mirror, as he started to move his
hand away his thump touched the glass, or rather it entered the glass.
Martin's eyes grew wide and he yanked his hand back, a ripple flowed
across the surface of the mirror. He stared at his thumb, it was intact,
nothing changed.
He tentatively reached out to touch it again. His fingers seemed to dent
the mirror, then the mirror gave way and became smooth again, his
fingers inside it. He stared again in awe, then slowly pushed his
fingers deeper. He couldn't see them through the glass. Deeper they went
until it was up to his wrist. He yanked his hand back.
Once again he inspected his hand and found no difference.
"This is so weird," Martin whispered.
He wanted to leave, wanted to call someone, but also wanted to know
more. He licked his lips, swallowed and pushed his hand back into the
mirror. Once again there was slight resistance then it disappeared to
his wrist. He thought for a moment and pushed his other hand in. Then he
touched his fingers on the opposite side of the mirror. He could feel
them, they felt a little different, but they were there.
Taking a deep breath he pushed further, up to his elbows.
"OK, this is it," Martin bit his lip, held his breath and pushed again.
He was now in the mirror down to his waist.
It was light where he found himself, or at least half of him. He looked
back and saw his body emerging from a mirror. He reached back with one
hand and pushed it back through the mirror. It seemed he could go back
through so he took a step and came completely into the new room. It
appeared to be a rather nice bathroom.
He turned and looked back at the mirror, it was nothing like the mirror
in his bedroom, this one hung on the wall. But the image in it, his
reflection, was not what he saw in his mirror. Everything seemed to be
in the appropriate scale: his feet, his hands. He looked closer at his
hands and they were different, the fingers smaller, the nails manicured.
He reached back towards the mirror and rubbed his breast and realized he
felt it! Not in his arm where it touched but in his breast? He reached
up with both hands and felt his breasts and they felt real. He felt the
tingle when his fingers grazed his nipples. "Oh my God," he whispered.
Slowly he trailed his hand down the front of his dress to his crotch and
felt. He felt a tingle, but no external equipment. He pulled his dress
up and stared in the mirror. No bulge.
"Oh my God!" he said again letting his dress fall back into place.
He stumbled over to the toilet and sat down on the lid. "What is going
on here? How can this be happening? I need to get back." He looked at
the mirror but didn't move towards it.
A knock came on the door. "Miss Martin, are you okay ma'am?" came a
man's voice from the other side.
"Yes, I'm fine," Martin replied stunned at the sound of his voice, so
high.
"Very well," the voice answered, "your guests are waiting in the dining
room."
"My guests?" Martin muttered to himself. "Very well, I'll be right
there."
Intrigued by the new circumstance as well as by his appearance and
apparent transformation Martin stood up, went to the mirror to check his
makeup and then started for the bathroom door.
"Maybe I'm having some kind of psychotic delusion," he rationalized. "If
I am, or if it is this real, I don't want to waste it."
He opened the door and walked through a massive bedroom, out into the
hall, down a staircase and toward a room he could hear conversation
emanating from. He entered the room and saw about a dozen people all
standing around a large dining table talking. Everyone was dressed in
formal attire making him feel like he belonged.
"Oh, Christi," a lady approached him and hugged him, "I think it is
wonderful you've agreed to chair the fundraiser this year."
"Oh," Martin answered trying to formulate a response, then realized he
knew who the lady was and what was going on, "Susan, you know I just
can't stand to hear about those poor neglected animals. We need to do
all we can to help them find good homes, and in the least, see that they
have everything they need at the shelters to take care of them."
He smiled as he turned to the rest of the room still amazed at the sound
of his voice. "Please, everyone, let's have some dinner and talk about
what we can do." He moved to the head of the table and took a seat, the
guests all found their seats. Shortly after that two waiters entered
bringing the first course for the evening.
Slightly more than three hours later Christi was saying good night to
the last of his guests. The help had been hired for the evening, they
left through the kitchen. He sighed and proceeded to go back to his
bedroom. He went to the bathroom and stared at the mirror at the end of
the room.
He hesitated, then reached out and his fingers dimpled the surface as
they made contact then began to penetrate.
"Do I want to go back?" he asked himself. "I'm the woman I've always
wished I could be. I could stay and live well."
Something drove him back to the mirror, he felt the need to return. So
he stepped though into his special bedroom. He reached up and squeezed
his breasts to confirm: he was Martin Christi again.
The next morning Martin got up and readied himself for the day. He
wasn't sure what he was going to do yet but he liked to be clean and
prepared. He went to the kitchen and fixed himself a simple breakfast.
As he ate he kept thinking back to the dinner he had the evening before.
How could that have really happened?
He cleaned off the dishes and then went back to the bedroom. He stood
before the mirror for a long moment before reaching out and touching the
glass. It left a finger print. Confused he touched it in another place,
solid as it is supposed to be. Even more confused he turned away, scared
that something might be wrong with him. Could a brain tumor be causing
hallucinations? Did that breakfast sandwich have something bad in it? Is
it over?
Martin left and went about doing other things trying to forget about
what surely couldn't have happened the night before.
Saturday rolled around again. Martin did some things that needed taken
care of. When the evening rolled around, after eating a light dinner he
decided he needed another foray in his special room.
He walked into the closet and immediately selected the flapper dress. He
was in the mood for the fringe and crystals that adorned it. He chose
stockings and even had a pair of panties in the style they wore back in
the twenties. A short-hair dark wig and long necklaces finished his
preparations along with some black shoes with blocky heels. He went to
the mirror.
Just to assure himself that the previous encounter was all an illusion
he reached out and touched the mirror where the finger print still
lurked on the glass. The mirror dimpled and Martin gasped.
This time instead of hesitating he stepped right through. He was
confused again. Instead of the bright roomy bathroom he stepped through
before he seemed to be in a bathroom at a club. The room was dark wood,
several stalls lined one wall, sinks were on the other side. The steady
thump of music reverberated through the walls.
Martin started for the door when two other women came into the room
dressed in a similar manner to him. They were laughing and talking as
they went to a couple stalls and closed the door. Martin stood shocked
for a moment staring at the closed doors listening to them talk through
the stall walls. He again reached up and touched his breasts to confirm
he was once again Christi Martin. He was.
He exited the bathroom into a room that was a cloud of smoke. Men in
suits and hats, women, many dressed as he was, others slightly more
conservatively. He walked towards the dance floor and a man grabbed him.
"Come on, babe," he grinned, "let's cut a rug."
Martin felt himself dragged out to the dance floor. He began dancing
with Jake, amazed again he just knew the man's name. He also knew the
dance steps, and the friends he was there with.
Martin partied with them all for hours. Jake wanted to take him home be
he declined the offer. Made an excuse to go to the bathroom and returned
to the bedroom through the mirror.
"This isn't an illusion," Martin panted lying back on the bed, his dress
riding up over the tops of his stocking. "It isn't some sickness.
Somehow, it's real."
He cleaned up and went to bed with plans to try something new again the
next day.
Sunday he got up, showered and ate a quick breakfast. He rushed back to
the bedroom and selected the outfit.
Once he was ready he stepped through the mirror and stumbled. The floor
was moving. He looked about at the hard metal floor, walls, exposed
pipe; everything painted a flat gray. He checked himself in the mirror,
straightened his cap and jacket and proceeded to leave the head.
"Come on, Christi," another girl called excitedly. "We'll be in port
soon. Welcome to Hawaii!"
He hurried after the girl, Maureen, and proceeded to climb the stairs
from below deck to the outside. Once on deck he could see land was very
close. All hands were lining up along the sides of the ship, he rushed
to stand beside Maureen. He had to hold his skirt to prevent the wind
from whipping it around so much.
"Where do you want to go first?" Maureen asked.
"I have no idea," Martin answered. "I've never been here before."
"I hear they have these Japanese bath houses," Maureen answered. "Why
don't we go to one of those. It has been months since we've been able to
take a bath."
"Aren't they communal?" Martin asked.
"After all this time at sea around all the other girls are you now
starting to feel like a prude?" Maureen laughed.
"I guess not," Martin answered realizing he'd actually never seen
himself naked as Christi either.
They watched people lined up at the docks all waving to them as they
came in. He wanted to wave back but understood he was supposed to
maintain his position. Once they docked they were dismissed and he and
Maureen started toward the gangplank. Two other WAVs joined them.
The four of them caught a cab, an older car that made Martin suddenly
realize they were back some time in the sixties. He watched in awe as
the city slid by, at least fifty years younger than he would see it in
his own time. Men and women walked by dressed in the old style.
They arrived at the bathhouse and immediately went to a changing room.
The girls immediately began stripping off their uniforms, Martin
hesitated for a moment and then decided he had to just go for it. He
peeled off the jacket, removed the little ribbon tie and blouse and
carefully hung them up. He unzipped his skirt and stepped out of it. At
last, he took off his bra, his breasts hung down, he looked at the large
nipples and resisted the urge to touch them to see how they felt. "Why
didn't I think to do this before I was in front of others?" he chastised
himself. Finally he pulled his panties off.
He took a robe and wrapped it around himself as they headed for the
bath. They girls all giggled as they made their way into a room with a
large pool. Steam wafted from the surface of the water.
Maureen peeled off her robe, hung it on a peg on the wall and walked to
the pool, she descended into the water.
"Oh my God that feels incredible," she moaned. "Get in here."
The other two girls followed as quickly as they could. Martin finally
peeled off his robe and marched over to the water. He lowered himself
into the water and sighed as he sat on a ledge.
"You okay?" Maureen asked. "You seem to be a little off today."
"I don't know," Martin answered as he relaxed, he could feel the muscles
loosening throughout his body. "Just feeling not myself today I guess."
"What we need to do after this," another girl, Nancy, answered, "is go
find a bar and a couple local boys to show us around and maybe, if they
are lucky enough, show us a good time."
"Maybe some surfers," the other girl Gail chimed in. "I don't want any
beatniks. Do they have beatniks in Hawaii?"
They all laughed and soaked for a long while.
Finally, they got up and left the pool. They threw on the robes and went
back to the changing room. As they toweled off, Martin realized that
shaving wasn't apparently a part of the culture. Legs were silky smooth
but each of the girls, including himself, sported a full bush. He pulled
on his panties covering his own. When he put on the bra, the first time
with real breasts to deal with, he realized he could actually fasten it
by reaching behind instead of needing to do it at his waist. He reached
inside and adjusted his boobs so they weren't being pinched and finished
dressing.
They left the bathhouse and headed for a restaurant to enjoy a lunch.
After that they went down to the beach and watched a few surfers try to
ride the waves. Tide was out so there weren't many out there. Martin was
trying to find a way to sit on the beach and not get sand in his skirt
nor give away his secrets to anyone passing by.
At last they moved on, took a bus tour and finally ended up at dinner.
When they entered the restaurant there seemed to be an air of despair
everywhere.
"What is going on?" Maureen asked while waiting for their table.
A pretty Polynesian girl in a flowery sarong told them, "The President
was killed today. In Dallas, Texas."
Martin felt dizzy. Today was that day. He staggered and the other girls
grabbed to keep him from falling.
"Oh no," tears immediately began falling down his face. "I can't... I'm
sorry, I, uh, I've got to get back to the ship." He pushed himself
gently free of the girls and stumbled back from the restaurant. He
hailed a cab and went back to the docks. Once onboard, he rushed down to
the head. He stepped back through the mirror and into a bedroom and a
time when John Kennedy had died more than fifty years before.
He stripped out of the uniform feeling depressed from the news. It would
take a couple hours before he could think about the amazing day he had
in Hawaii as one of the girls.
Martin started really enjoying his adventures with the mirror. He went
shopping at thrift stores, costume stores, wherever he could find
vintage clothes to visit different eras. He found himself back in the
sixties while wearing a long flowery maxi dress, he ended up on a
plantation in the South during the Civil War in an impossibly big dress
that he wasn't sure he could get through the mirror. He was a nurse in a
ward in the fifties wearing his nurse's dress with white stocking and
his little cap.
Each time he travelled he was aware of who he was. His name was always
Christi Martin, but his history was always different, and within a few
minutes he knew everything about his life in that place.
The most disturbing trip was when he thought he would dress
exceptionally sexy: black leather mini, sheer blouse, fancy bra and
panties, lacy stockings with a garter and really high heels. He found
himself in a dirty apartment with a roommate named Gwen.
"C'mon, Christi," she said when Martin stepped from the bathroom, "Gino
will be pissed if we don't make him some money tonight."
The images that flooded his mind were something he didn't want to
experience. He went back into the bathroom and immediately through the
mirror.
He had also tried to bring something back from places and times he had
been but the only things the mirror would allow through was him and the
clothes he wore when he first entered.
As amazing as all the adventures had been he was feeling like he needed
to stop. He was showing up to work on Monday and unable to function. He
was thinking all the time of what he had done and what he wanted to do
the next weekend. He was spending all his money on new clothes to go to
some time he hadn't visited before. It had to stop.
Saturday rolled around again. Martin went to the bedroom. He stared at
the mirror for a long while. Finally, he made the decision. Another hour
later he stood in front of the mirror, he was dressed for an elegant
dinner party. He stepped through the mirror and into the large bathroom
he had entered before on his first adventure.
He straightened his dress and checked his make-up in the mirror. "If I'm
going to change my life, I might as well make it the best life I can
have," he told the mirror. "And I like that I am involved in charities
helping others out. I am Christi Martin."
She turned and left the bathroom and proceeded to the dining room where
others were waiting. They discussed at length all the project ideas and
other significant things. Once done and guests were gone Christi
returned to her bedroom. She retrieved a long silk nightgown and
changed. Christi took the dress and everything else she wore from the
evening out back and went to the large fire pit. She tossed them all on
the fire and watched them burn. Her ticket back to the world of Martin
Christi was destroyed.
To confirm, she returned to the bathroom and caressed the mirror, it was
as solid as any other mirror. This was her life.
Six months later people were wandering through a house that was
previously owned by Martin Christi who had mysteriously disappeared
without a trace.
A man wandered through the house and saw a mirror that seemed to call to
him. He hadn't ever been to an estate sale before but that morning he
just suddenly felt like taking a drive. Then he felt the need to stop.
Perhaps this mirror would fit in a special little room he had at home.
He carried it up front where the woman there praised his choice and was
certain he would be happy with it.
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