Mirror Dress - TG

Christopher dropped the bras onto the bed with a sigh, his fingers flicking at them randomly.  Did pink look good with his skin tone? Or blue? Or black? Did black say something about him he didn't want said? Did it matter, if no one saw them anyway?

It wasn't as if he undressed in public as a rule; it wasn't as if he even worse dresses in public, as a rule. It was the sort of thing society tended to frown on; society was close minded like that. But even if it was solely for himself, perfection felt important.

"Am I insane?" he asked his mirror. The reflection didn't answer a potentially good sign. He smiled grimly at it, slipping into his closet and pushing aside the shirts and pants. The dress and skirts  were in the back, hanging limply. He touched one he hadn't worn before, a black halter top and a short skirt; a little slutty, but fitting for trying out new underwear. He drew it out carefully, laying it out on  the bed with another  look at the mirror; the black would look good against his skin he thought. He was smiling in the mirror.

It was a surprisingly large smile. He must have been excited.

Slipping off his shirt, he hesitated over the bras again before picking the black, and sliding it over his skin. Soft, smooth, it clung lightly against his chest.  He added padding to it, carefully shifting it to look natural before pulling on the halter top. He took a moment to admire how the cloth hung between the makeshift breasts for a moment. It looked good; he was smiling in the mirror.

He slipped on the panties, and the skirt, lifted a shaved leg and watched the cloth slide down his thigh; not entirely feminine, but close enough without close inspection. It was interesting, watching the black cloth sliding up and down as he moved, lifting almost enough to show the panties but not quite. He lowered it after a moment, a light blush creeping across his cheeks; but he was still smiling in the mirror. He was happy.

He was really happy, from the grin; it stretched across his entire face; he wondered why his muscles weren't aching.

Ignoring that, he reached down, fingers scraping the carpet as he grabbed two high heeled shoes from under his bed and slipped them atop his feet. His socks felt sweaty and tight, so he took the shoes off again, lost the socks and slipped up stockings, relishing the feel of that delicate cloth floating up his legs. He put his feet back into the shoes when it was done.

Christopher was still grinning in the mirror. He put a wig on, and then touched a finger to his face. He traced the smile, trying to see if it was really that wide; his smile began to fade. The Christopher in the mirror was still grinning.

"Hello?" he asked; no response. Perhaps that was good. He thought that could be good. But the mirror him was still grinning.

Perhaps it wasn't working right.

"Hello?" Christopher repeated, taking a step forward. His high heels threatened to twist out from under him, but he didn't let it happen, simply taking another step. His skirt clung tight to his thighs as he walked, one foot in front of the other, hips swaying as he tried to maintain balance. His padded chest stuck through the shirt, and he half stumbled forward, causing himself to lean.

Lifting his head up to try and catch sight of how he looked, he felt his mouth open in surprise; he knew how he should look. Half slutty, from his current position, with his lips pursed into a round oh. But his reflection was still grinning.

'Hello?" he repeated, taking another step. His lips brushed the mirror, brushed the grin. He could feel the warmth of the other him, sending a ripple of surprise through him. The mirror reflection was still grinning when the glass holding it rippled.

He forced himself upright, leaning forward only a little in order to place his hand against the glass; warmth met his fingers, and another ripple in the glass; he felt something close around his hand, gripping hard and tugging.

There was a coldness; a coldness that spread throughout his entire body,  and the brush of hair across his cheek as something passed. He thought he heard a whisper – "New worlds, here I come." And then a the sound of something popping.

He stood in his room. The same objects, just on the other side. He touched his  face to find himself smiling, but not grinning. Looked at the mirror behind him to see himself grinning, and then turning, walking out of the room. He turned to walk out of the room himself, feeling something shift inside of his shirt.

He paused instead of leaving, reaching down to gently lift one breast in his hand, and then the other. He gave them a squeeze; real.

He hesitated, touching his groin as well, and then glancing at the bed; he was female. That changed everything.

He was going to have to decide on a new pair of underwear.