Magic Mirror on the Wall
'A married CD gets forced to do some nasty things with a male neighbor.'
Something a little different; forced sex, humiliation, and slightly non-consensual rape, but our heroine never let herself become a victim.
***
He was taking me to a barbeque of all things. I was so nervous.
"How many people are going to be there?" I asked.
"Why? What are you so worried about precious?"
No matter how many times he told me to relax and not worry, I stayed anxious. I didn't go out too many places dressed. Maybe a ride around the neighborhood at night in my car. Maybe a quiet motel outside of town. Maybe a parking lot at a gynecologist's or a maternity store, taking pictures with my phone. Maybe I should jump out of his car, scraping my knee and ruining my heels, but I knew he wouldn't let me. He wanted me to meet his friends. He wanted me to specifically meet his older brother. He wanted to impress him with a hot girlfriend. I was a hot girlfriend.
***
I met Michael over a year ago. He just moved in next door to me and my wife Sheryl, we have been married three years. We were Twenty-seven he was ten years older than both of us, plus he had more money, a bigger car, and according to the wife, fantastic biceps. He was the opposite of me. He was tall at least 6'2", as compared to me at 5'8". My wife was just slightly shorter than me and he would comment about it all the time.
"You two must share clothes, you are the same size, ha." He would laugh but he didn't know how close to the truth he was.
My wife wanted me to hang out with him. "Maybe Michael will rub off on you a little." She told me. "You need some guy friends." Actually, I didn't have any friends anymore, and I didn't want the jerk next door to be my new one. The only friends we had together were two couples she knew from work, we saw them rarely. I did have friends before we were together but they all drifted away after meeting opinionated Sheryl.
I knew she wanted a man more like him than like me, they would flirt right in front of my eyes, even when Michael had a girlfriend around, which was always. They even hung out together themselves. He sometimes took her to games, I didn't follow sports at all so they never asked me. I didn't even know what sport they were watching, I didn't care. She usually went with her friend Terri and they were gone for two to three hours.
Sheryl loved watching him empty his truck after shopping. She would stare out the window as he carried his three cases of bottled water into the house. His arms twice the size of mine. I would hear her sighing to the empty street when he disappeared into the house.
He was also of a darker complexion, I was very pale, very light-skinned. He was loud, when he came into a room everyone turned in his direction, he needed attention, me I slunk into the background. I never wanted to be noticed. I only wanted to be noticed in my mirror.
My magic mirror in my back bedroom on the bottom floor of my house, was where I gravitated toward. It was my refuge. It was hidden in a quiet part of the house, dark, covered up, and tucked away against a big closet. I found it at an estate sale laying on its side in front of a house. I noticed it from the road. I walked in and bought it immediately, no negotiations, it was beautiful standing at seven feet tall and surrounded by a gold rococo frame. It was a sea shell design, I couldn't wait to dress up in front of it. It would barely fit in the car but it fits perfectly in my house.
"That monstrosity is not going in MY room!" Sheryl yelled. But I never had any intention of even letting her look through it. It was for me.
"Magic mirror on the wall....."
That's where I stood all dressed up, taller in my heels, happy in my dress and makeup, and the place that Michael first saw me as 'Sabrina.'
***
I have been a crossdresser since I was younger, stealing my sister's dresses and shoes to try on in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors in my mother's bedroom. When I was a little older, over twenty-one, of course, I would start with the foundations, bra, panties, pantyhose and end with a dress, high heels, and a pocketbook. I was too nervous to wear make-up. I tended to stick to just lipstick back then which not only went on my full lips but also my cheeks. It was enough makeup for my mother's mirror, but not enough for my magic one. And it was magic, now I looked prettier and more confident in it. The mirror itself was slightly faded and the reflection it made added to my feminine essence.
Michael saw me while I had on one of my little black dresses. I had four of them hidden in a false wall in the closet behind the mirror. The closet was huge but the dress was short, a mini dress just reaching the top of my thighs. I had on suntan pantyhose making my legs shiny and long, reaching down to five-inch black stiletto pumps. My legs were completely shaved, I had to have perfect legs, I first shaved them when I went to college, I was obsessed. The wife never said anything, they were always smooth. I told her I was part Japanese.
When I dressed up I didn't fool around either. I was completely sexy, the complete package. Under the dress, I had on 36D breast forms. They were expensive and worth it. The seam came up to right under my chin and in pictures, my tits looked amazing, I looked 100% female. I could admire them all day, and I hated taking them off. In this black dress, I showed all types of cleavage, and I bent forward to let my breasts hang giving me a perfect sexy sensual look. I would wink and kiss my reflection.
Sometimes when I wasn't dressed up and walked by the mirror my feminine image would appear to me. There were no men inside its reflection only females and in my mind that is all I ever saw.
***
The wife was away for the day at her family's house up north with her father. Being at home by myself, I had on perfect make-up. With time and patience, I could make myself stunning. My eyes were my favorite part, with long false lashes and lots and lots of mascara. I wasn't worried about it coming off now that I was an older, sexy 27 year old, with my Clinique remover. I had more feminine items than my wife ever had or could even imagine. Unfortunately, most were in a makeup case or shopping bags hidden on the floor of the closet. One day I would have a vanity full of cosmetics and perfumes. Maybe even a jewelry box, bigger than my wife's.
My feminine-shaped brows and full lips smiled at me in the mirror. I had been able to make my lips look big and plump for years. I would spend hours getting the perfect look. I had a long blonde expensive wig that matched my hair perfectly, it reached the middle of my back. Sometimes I used my real hair and the wig, brushing it for a more realistic hairline. My wife didn't like my long hair, but I was determined to grow it so I had more options. I wanted to wake up one morning with my hair in a long ponytail. A little tiny fantasy.
I always wore my press on nails too, they were quick and easy. I could change to different colors all day. Long red nails with matching lips were enough to make me excited and sometimes I would cum posing with my fingers on my cheeks, giving me the cutest looks I could come up with, glancing at my gold hoops peaking out behind the blonde hair. I picked up my little pocketbook, fiddling with the clasp with my long nails, and took out a little bottle of my Gucci Guilty perfume. Just a little drop. I always smelled like a woman when I was dressed up and I always felt like a woman when I was finished. And I was now finished, the mirror confirmed it.
"Hi, beautiful." I would say in my feminine cadence.
I am beautiful. I even had a woman's figure. I have been working on it since I was a teenager. I kept myself at 145 pounds with yoga and exercise. I was 36 x 28, with my corset on x 38 and a half. My feet were even a size smaller than my wive's at an eight, I couldn't wear any of her shoes but I didn't care, she had terrible taste. Actually, I didn't wear anything of hers, no matter what Michael thought.
I always felt I was much more of a woman than her anyway. I have known her for years, I bought her this big house that she loved. My mother wanted us to marry, she was a friend of the family. My mother wanted grandchildren, little did she know that the wife and I didn't even sleep together anymore. After two years of marriage, my wife decided she needed the bedroom completely dark and with a noise machine to fall asleep. I was a distraction so I was the first thing to get thrown out. I didn't care I was quite happy sleeping alone in one of my nightgowns or babydolls in the back bedroom. I just had to lock the door.
I hated hiding my femme self away in boy's clothes, but my female side understood and she never complained, but once I was dressed she didn't want to be put away so soon.
"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest one of all?" That quote always made me smile. But I never got an answer.
I was completely transformed into the self I felt I should be. I was practicing my walk in my heels in front of the mirror, mesmerized by my gorgeous legs in the faded sepia of the mirror. How could I have such perfect legs, how could I not show these off, I was thinking. I was in my own little world.
I saw something in the far end of the mirror, a trick of the light, maybe just my hair in my eyes. I closed them. I turned to the left, maybe it was just the light from my Apple. I had my phone taking a video of me and I posed in front of it. I did a little sissy spin, and then there he was. Watching me with a huge grin on his face. Damn.
"Don't stop because of me, I'm enjoying the show." He was the first person to speak to me as Sabrina. "You are fucking hot, you know that? God baby you got some pair of tits on ya."
I was frozen I couldn't move. He was walking towards me. He was still half a foot taller than me, even in my heels. He stood right in front of me, lifting, then sniffing my hair. He held my chin. "Shit you are fucking gorgeous, it's ridiculous." He said while looking at my big made-up eyes. He couldn't take HIS eyes off of me, he then glanced down, "My girlfriends got real tits and yours are so much hotter. And bigger for chrissakes." He then squeezed both my breasts at the same time. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't run away, I couldn't even move. A man was fondling my boobs.
I tried to speak in my male voice but it wouldn't work.
"What, what are you doing here?" When I was dressed up I was all girl. The high feminine sound came out with a slight lisp and he laughed at me. He laughed loud.
"God you even sound like a girl, a LITTLE girl, this is too good to be true." He stepped back and walked around me. "Does Sheryl know about this? Does she know you're a fag?" He laughed again.
I didn't know what to say, he walked up to me and bent down. We were face to face. "Does Sheryl know, I'm asking you, sissy?"
"No, no she doesn't know."
"Ha, good maybe we can keep this a secret between us." He then grabbed my hands and pulled me away from the magic mirror. He let go and sat with a plop in a chair near the far side of the other wall. "Turn around." He told me and I did. Did I have to do what he wanted? I felt like I was going to pee. He sat studying my look, he seemed to be deciding what he was going to do with me.
"Even your ass is hot, and I can't believe how fucking short that dress is." He then reached with his long arms and grabbed my waist and I landed on his lap.
"What, what are doing, please just leave me alone," I begged.
He put my hands behind my back, pushing me into him, and then put his mouth and nose to my neck. "You even taste and smell like a girl, a hot girl. Now, what is your name sissy?"
I didn't want to tell him, I didn't want him to be here, I was about to cry he was hurting me. "What is your NAME?" He said a little more menacingly and closer to my ear. I felt my earrings rattle from his tone.
"Sabrina."
"Sabrina, a nice girlie name for a sexy girlie girl." He then started playing with my breasts as my body leaned against him, he was rough and my hands were in pain stretched behind my back. He put his face on my neck, I felt his rough skin move along under my wig.
"You feel so much better than Jan, shit, you got bigger breasts, longer hair and you smell incredible, and you are making me so fucking horny. I can't believe a faggot is making me this hard." Jan was his recent girlfriend, he sometimes juggled two at a time.
He put his strong hands on my hips and started bouncing me on his lap. I tried to get up but he grabbed me quickly, I slipped on my heels and fell back onto him, releasing my arms. His cock was now rock solid and I felt it against my ass. It was making me uncomfortable knowing I was turning him on.
"Oh, baby you feel incredible." He started rubbing my legs, I could tell he was loving the feel of my pantyhose from the moans and sighs he was making. I was trying not to touch him so I put my arms covering my breasts. He grabbed my hips and started to move me, I was so light on his lap. He was making me grind my ass, and suddenly he started yelling. "Holy shit, I can't believe I'm gonna cum, this is crazy your making me so fucking excited ahh..." He was picking me up and off his lap with his huge hands. This man was treating me like a rag doll.
"Please Michael... stop please your hurting me." I tried to sit still in his lap but he kept on bouncing me.
Suddenly he yelled again, "Fuck.... God... what the fuck..." He started to slow down, I knew he came. "Ahhh..." He moaned again.
He stopped and pulled me into him. He pushed my hair out of the way and put his lips on my neck. "We are SO doing that again, I never came so hard in my life, and my dick was in my fucking pants the whole time." He rubbed my body a little more and then moved me off his lap.
I didn't know what to do. I needed him to leave but I couldn't do anything about it, I was just a little woman, though I felt my tucked cock move and it was suddenly very tight.
"I think YOU are about to become my new girlfriend, give me your phone."
I didn't know why he wanted it but I had to move across the room to stop recording, I hoped he wouldn't find my videos and pictures. I gave it to him. "Why do you want my phone?"
He smiled at me. "Pose!"
"What?"
He told me louder "Pose, bitch." He took a bunch of pictures while he made me get into different positions. He made me lift the little bit of my dress up to show him my panties. "I'm gonna be jerking off to some of these tonight sweetheart unless you come by and handle my dick yourself." He laughed and then made me sit on his lap again. He took a couple of selfies and then put his phone number in my address book while I watched, under the name The Boyfriend. He added one of the selfies of the two of us and then kissed me on the cheek taking another selfie.
We stood up, both of us in the reflection of my mirror, though he looked quite blurry. "Shit I wish I didn't have to go, I'd be fucking you all day sweetheart."
I looked at him nervously, he wanted to fuck me? "Why, why are you here anyway?"
He laughed again. "Your wife gave me the key a year ago precious, I needed a couple of coolers for the game." He bent down and picked one up. "I came for THESE and I ended up with a new sex doll. Heh," He laughed, headed out the door, and left me alone.
***
His slamming the back door echoed in my mind for hours. How was I going to get through this? I knew he would tell Sheryl if he had the chance, he didn't like me, or more accurately he didn't like my male self at all. I think he was liking the female me a little too much. All of this work I have done to become the perfect female in my mirror and the outcome is HIS total enjoyment of it.
***
It started to get dark and I heard my Apple ringing. There was a text from 'The Boyfriend', my phone showed me one of the selfies Michael took of us. I felt sick, I didn't want to pick it up but I knew I had to. I had no other choice, keeping this from Sheryl was probably the first priority. There was a picture of his dick, hard and menacing-looking with the text, 'Someone can't wait to see you.'
I was dressed up as a completely different woman when he walked in the back door, soon after the text. I was sitting on the chair crossing my legs, as he took my look in, I had a drink to calm my nerves. I had changed, it had been three and a half hours since he had left. Unfortunately, my wardrobe was anything but conservative and I still looked like a wanton woman when he smiled at me. I played with the thought of wearing one of the wife's outfits but I didn't like wearing another woman's clothes, especially not Sheryl's.
"I see you got all dressed up for a visit from your new boyfriend." He gestured me to stand and he smiled as he started moving his body into mine. I didn't want him near me, I didn't like him and I was deathly afraid of him. I tensed up as he took me in his arms I wasn't used to being handled by him, by anyone.
"Please," I begged, "Just go. I, I can't do this."
He laughed. "Like you have any choice. You made the decision when you slipped on that little tiny black dress of yours today precious. Now you are wearing.. what... let me see."
He moved back and shook his head at my new outfit. I was wearing tight skinny blue jeans, a sheer white top, and a brown sweater with my nude five-inch pumps. My wig was brushed forward hiding most of my face.
He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss. "You even changed your nail polish for me." He said looking at my long perfect silver nails. "Don't lie to me, you love having a man want you. You are such a sexy whore."
I wasn't a whore, I always felt I was dressed appropriately. I figured with the pants it would be harder to get into my panties. My tiny cock was so shrunken that it looked like a pussy anyway, and I didn't want him seeing me like that. It would give him more ammunition against the little bit of masculinity I had left, which wasn't much.
He started to touch my hair again. "Don't you have any earrings?" He said. "Go put on the ones you had on this afternoon. And put on some jewelry, I love a woman who jingles." He then took the cup I was drinking and tasted it. "And get some more of this."
I was shaking as I went behind my mirror to get my hoops. He followed me in and seemed impressed with my hiding spot. The ones I found first were huge and almost reached to my shoulders. I slipped them on looking in the mirror as he smiled at the reflection, rubbing his already hard dick.
I had to go upstairs to find some of Sheryl's bracelets and jewelry I didn't own any. I had tons of clip-on earrings but nothing else.
I descended the stairs clinking the ice with a drink for Michael and another for me. I had on a bunch of bangle bracelets on each wrist and one ring on each hand, I didn't like wearing a lot of trinkets. He took the drink and then held my hand. "Nice, that's what I like. Cheers to an expensive-looking woman." He then took a sip and then kissed my feminine hand. I felt he was trying to be a little nicer.
"I look at your hot skinny wife," He said. "And I think what the fuck is she doing with this little gay putz of a guy, yeah you got money but that's it. Now I see YOU are the hotwife, I got it all wrong. Sheryl is nothing compared to the piece of ass you can become." He laughed as I tried not to watch him in the mirror rubbing my ass and body.
After a couple of sips of Bourbon, he made me face the mirror. My red lips getting closer to my red lips. "Now don't move precious." He then bent down and started kissing my ass in my tight jeans. His mouth made its way up my thighs and then right in the middle of my butt. With years of yoga and exercise, my ass was quite perfect and tight. It was round and big, even when I just had on a pair of panties. I always had a butt that looked full and womanly.r"