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The Door In The Mirror - A Sequel free porn video
The door in the mirror - A sequel
by QModo
Note to readers. Don't read if you don't like poor grammar, this is
rough. This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should
be inferred or expected.
Copyright... are you kidding?
Edited by Amanda Lynn and Rosemary.
Years ago, I was a science teacher at Portland High School. I'd found a
door on the blind wall on Elm street while in a traffic jam. There was
no door really. It was only visible in the mirror, and as I was in the
car. I couldn't examine this phenomenon in more detail.
Some days later, I was there again, walking by on foot, and I saw the
door mirrored on the side of a parked car. I could see and feel it, only
while turned away from it. I tried the door and opened it into a world
where I was a girl ten years younger than I was in my own world.
I panicked then, and returned to my own world that same day.
A few years later after my breakup with my girlfriend Val, I'd
considered checking the door again. I was so unhappy with my current
life and I was ready to step through this door and live that other,
maybe a bit better, life. With a folding mirror in my jacket pocket, I
went to Elm Street and found the same wall. I looked in the mirror and
the door was there. I followed myself in the mirror to the door till my
back was touching it. I took the doorknob in my hand and turned it.
Nothing! I could turn the knob a little bit but not much. The door was
locked.
Was it a tragedy? No way. I'd realized at that moment that I had to live
my life and not escape it. My attitude and my life both changed. I was
offered a job at the USM physics lab. It wasn't great improvement money
wise but... High school or Uni? The choice was Uni.
I was alone and I wasn't looking for someone in my life. Solitude was
good. I had more time for myself and my Scout. I'd restored him with all
the original parts. I finished it like Monteverdi Safari in black and
yolk yellow. I didn't plan to sell him but it happened that a fortune
was offered and I made a deal.
The same year, I was offered a position at the University of Maine and I
accepted it, so I moved to Orono.
I still had some errands to run in Portland and I parked my car in the
USM employees' gated parking lot. My new car's plate number was still in
their database and I was allowed in. Anyway not so many cars in summer.
One of my errands was in the state court building so I was coming down
Elm Street, the same street I usually walked to school on when I was a
kid. It was also the same street where, on a blind wall, I'd found a
door that was visible only in the mirror. The door was locked the last
time I'd checked it. Was it still locked now?
I had no mirror with me nor was there anything nearby I could use as
one, but I had sunglasses. I took them off and examined the blind wall
mirrored in them. It was something of a distorted image but I could see
myself and the wall behind me. The graffiti was cleaned off so I had to
meander back and forth until I found the door. I came with my back to
the door and groped for the door handle. I tried it and it wasn't
locked.
I hesitated for a while. I had everything I needed in my life. Was the
curiosity of the unknown worth to lose the wealth. I would be able to
come back at any moment. Or wouldn't I?
I turned the doorknob and cracked the door open, making a step backward.
I felt as if I had dropped a couple of inches down. Something fell to
the ground and broke with a shattering sound. I looked down and there
was a smartphone with the broken glass on the pavement. I checked it and
it didn't respond.
I looked around and there was a single passerby on Elm Street. This
street never was crowded. It was secluded, especially in summer. I
examined myself discretely. I guess I wasn't Sandra. Sandra should be an
adult already. I was a kid. A girl. Nothing wrong with being a girl,
though I wasn't desperate to become a female me. I was dressed like a
boy and had no visible breasts. With my hands in my pockets, I could
feel clearly - no balls here.
No backpack and no purse. Keys in left pocket and wallet in right back
pocket. And no working phone. There was some change in the wallet and,
an id. I sighed with relief. I was Patricia Laurel Kilian and I was
fourteen. I calculated in my mind and found that my mom was thirty-nine
when Patricia was born. That's if the mom was the same. If she was the
same mom her birthday will be in two days. As Earl, I had planned to
send her flowers.
What next? I didn't know what plans Patricia had for the rest of the
day. I turned toward my parents' home. I would explore what I found
there.
The door was unlocked.
"I'm home!" I shrieked in my new, high-pitched voice, closing the door
behind me.
"I'm in the kitchen," the voice of a young woman said.
I turned to the kitchen and there was Sandra. And I thought I was in the
universe where instead of Earl and Sandra there was only Patricia.
Sandra was obviously too young to be my mom. So she was my sis. How
could I not notice there was another kid when I was here in Sandra's
place seven years ago?
"What's the haps?" she greeted.
To tell the truth it was unexpected to meet Sandra and the most I
managed to stammer out was, "Sandra?"
She looked at me and the look on her face changed from relaxed happiness
into a worried one.
"You are not Trish," she rather stated than questioned. "Earl?"
"How do you...?"
"I was you one day a few years ago," she said.
"Do others know?"
"You mean rents? No. I wasn't so stupid as to tell the nonsense about
the door in the mirror or another universe."
"But Trish?" I asked.
"Yeah. It happened. It was at first kind of a spooky story," Sandra
said. "Four years ago. You were ten. She was ten," Sandra corrected
herself.
I had nothing to say.
"No. It was you. If you stay, and you stay, you're Trish now."
"How do you know?"
"Trish emerged as transgendered two years ago. Then she got hooked on an
idea she was Earl reborn in a girl's body," Sandra explained.
"What do you mean by reborn? I haven't died yet."
"Mom had confessed two years ago, she had an abortion when she was
eighteen. Trish convinced herself she was the soul of that aborted baby.
Have you tried to open the door three years ago?" she ended with an
unexpected question.
"Well... Yes. But it was locked. How do you know?"
"I was at Uni in Boston and one day I felt an unexplained urge to come
home and check that door. I rationalized, that I didn't need or want to
be Earl. The next day that feeling was gone."
"Urge? I felt the same urge today. It's why I've stepped through the
door," I said.
"Will you be ok to stay Trish and be the girl?" Sandra asked.
"I think yes. I had expected to be you. You know, the young woman and
not a kid. Female anyway..." I explained. "Why do you ask?"
"Mom begged me to come home and try to convince Trish against puberty
blockers. Mom's not the same as in Earl's world. She's overprotective
here."
"Well... I'll be Trish. No worries here. My only worry is about real
Trish- now Earl - will she cope being a twenty years older man?"
"If she wants to come back, you'll be the first to feel it," Sandra
assured me.
"You mean I'll feel the urge to go back?" I asked.
"Exactly," she replied.
"The more I stay here, the more I want to know," I stated. "Did Trish
have an accident with broken ribs?"
"Why?"
"I feel like I'm wearing something squeezing my chest."
"Come to your room," Sandra ushered me.
We went upstairs to what I thought was her room.
"Isn't this your room?" I asked.
"It was, but it's yours now. I live in Providence."
"Back to the broken ribs," I said.
"Ha-ha... Take your shirt off."
I took it off and I was wearing a compression vest. I had to wear one
like that four years ago when I had a skiing accident and broke three
ribs. This garment was a real help then.
"Take this off too," Sandra commanded.
To put this thing on and take it off was a struggle. Generally one has
to roll it up but I didn't have enough strength. Or I still didn't know
how to operate my new body.
"Let me... help... you..." Sandra grabbed the sides of the vest's hem
and started to pull it up. "Raise your hands!"
The thing was off and two mounds of my flesh popped out free. I
instinctively covered them with my hands. They were round and firm. Not
big but breasts anyway.
"This too," Sandra pointed at the bandage on my waist. I rolled it off
and it did nothing- just covered the waist. I looked inquiringly at
Sandra.
"To conceal the girly waist," she explained.
"I'm well developed for the fourteen-year-old," I offered.
"Indeed you are," Sandra confirmed.
I pulled out the drawer of the chest.
"What are you looking for?" Sandra asked.
"I need a bra for these." I pointed at my breasts.
"You think Trish was kidding? She insisted her name was Pat like
Patrick, not Patricia. Pat's a boy. Nothing girly in his room."
"Shit," I muttered.
"Language, young lady," Sandra said with a chuckle.
"So I have to put everything back on?"
"Just a shirt. It's thick and it conceals your breasts under the jacket.
It will do for a while."
"A while?" I asked.
"Walmart's enough, I guess, for the very basic things," she offered.
Those very basic things were really plain and basic. Anyway, it was more
than an armful of things barely fitting in Sandra's Qashqai.
At home, I changed into leggings and a cropped tee. I had a bra under
the shirt and my midriff was visible and I looked like most girls my age
of fourteen.
So we, that's Sandra and I, went to the kitchen and did dinner, waiting
for mom and dad to come from work. Sandra was introducing me into
Patricia's life meanwhile. Not much there. Trish was a loner. No
friends. She was about to attend high school - the same school Sandra
and I attended, and the same where I'd worked in my world.
Trish insisted on starting puberty blockers. Her condition was confirmed
as gender dysphoria by three independent shrinks. Then another doc said
blockers weren't HRT. Everything is reversible as he said. But puberty
isn't really rocket science especially when you've gone through it. So
mom knew Trish would never be a functional female even if she backed
off. That's in case Trish used blockers.
The door opened and closed and dad's voice said, "I'm home!"
"In the kitchen!" Sandra said aloud and dad poked his head in.
"Hmm... It smells hea..." he started but then his eyes caught my view in
girl's attire. He first starred at me. Then he turned to Sandra.
"Is that some kinda experiment or something?" he asked her.
Sandra didn't answer while the entrance door opened and closed again.
"What's the commotion here?" mom asked entering the kitchen.
"Oh..." was the only thing she managed to say.
"Mother, Father! Meet your daughter Patricia Laurel. Trish for short,"
Sandra kinda introduced me to rents.
I smiled sheepishly and finger waved to them and then I said, "Mom, dad!
I'm back."
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