Life 2.0: mostly sweet short M2F TG stories

A Moment In The Mirror

The young, geeky, pimple faced, teenage boy stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his reflection just as he did quite often.

Every time, he hoped that this time he would no longer see in the mirror, a sad, lonely, ugly boy, but instead, a girl looking back at him, mimicking his every move.

He honestly didn't care if she was beautiful, pretty, just plain, or even less. As long as it was anything, but boyish, definitely a girl.

But alas, once again the sight staring back at him was as usual, the same sad boy, in his mother's clothes that didn't fit him quite right, nor were of a style a girl his age would ever want to be seen wearing.

He sighed a sad drawn out sigh.

A single tear trickled from the corner of his eye, down his right cheek, and dripped from his jaw to the front of the frumpy floral patterned garment.

He'd been dressing up, whenever he had the chance, for quite a while now, and he still didn't understand exactly why. What was it about the experience that drew him in, captured his interest, and made his heart beat so strongly?

Was it the clothes, the desire for pretty, feminine girl's clothes? Was it the life of a girl and how much better that seemed it might be? Or perhaps could it be the complete and total absence of masculinity and all the societal expectations that came with it that so attracted him to this desire?

The fact that he didn't know the answer embarrassed, frustrated, and drained him.

When he had been little, he used to pretend he could transform into a girl. He'd say magic words, and in his imagination he'd be transformed into a girl just like the ones at school in a pretty dress, with ribbons in his hair, white tights on his legs, chipped, worn red paint on his chewed short fingernails, and Mary Jane's on his feet, as he became one of them and frolicked around for hours on end, pretending, in the safety and privacy of his own backyard.

Other times the magic words turned him into an older teen girl on the cusp of adulthood in sexy stiletto heels, sheer black hose, a micro-mini skirt, and cleveage-revealing top, his perfectly smooth face radiantly glowing from a perfect makeover, and bouncy waves of voluminous curls cascading from his head to his shoulder and beyond.

He would imagine brilliant flashes of light radiating from diamond piercings in his ears when he tilted his head to laugh, as he sat at a table for two in a dimly lit, romantic, fancy restaurant, across from a rugged, unshaven but impeccably handsome young man wearing an expensive suit that could barely contain his bulging biceps and massive pecs. 

Often times, in his dreams, he imagined waking up as a girl and either going to school in a knee-length or longer skirt, silk blouse, and sandals, nobody seeing anything out of place, or floating across the dance floor in sparkly, strappy heels, and a beautiful, flowing tea-length ballgown as the belle of the ball, with the most dashing, handsome man in the room, by her side.

Other times his dreams conjured up images like he one he'd had just a couple nights earlier, of himself as a beautiful young girl, on her knees underneath the bleechers, long after a Friday night football game had ended, her makeup perfectly applied, hair up in a high ponytail, held in place by a long, thick ribbon, a cheerleaders uniform clinging to every curve of her voluptuous, head-turning body. With her shiny, metallic silver and blue pompoms hastily discarded on the ground by her side, while she used her lips and throat to intimately reward a sweaty, tired, but currently very happy, very aroused young male teenage quaterback in a grass stained football uniform with his pants down around his thighs, after successfully leading the high school football team to yet another double digit victory on the field earlier that night.

Once, he had even imagined himself sitting on the edge of a bed, a sparkling fitted top on over enormous, engorged breasts. The shirt pulled up over one of those ready to explode D cups, exposing a nipple, while a tiny newborn rested in his arms, nursing from the miraculous, life-sustaining milk that only a mother's body can provide.

He'd had many dreams and a full imagination over his short life, but, pretending and dreaming were just not the same as real life, and sadly, he could not imagine anything in reality that would ever bring him any closer to being a girl than what currently stared back at him from the mirror, now.

As he stood there, he, of course, had no idea what amazing secrets the future held.

He had no idea that many years from now, he would, in fact, emerge from the back of a multi-million dollar stretch limo in $30,000 diamond encrusted heels, shimmering sheer pure silk black hose, a $250,000 black onyx gown, a million and a half dollars in jewels on her hands, in her ears and around her neck, sparkling with every flash of the multitude of adoring cameras surrounding the car as she arrived at a gala planned in her honor for having been the most beloved, most successful fashion designer, model, movie actress, and UN spokesperson the world had ever seen, over the course of her almost-impossible-to-believe career.

Nor did he know how many other young boys will feel, have felt, or were currently feeling the exact same hopes, dreams, desires, and hopeless dispare as he did, at that very moment.

But that was the future, and at the current moment, there was nothing more than an emotionally distraught boy with tear-streaked cheeks, seemingly unfulfillable dreams, and hopeless feminine desires, in a newly wine-stained, ill-fitting, unfashionable, floral-patterned mom dress, looking at himself in a mirror, holding a half-empty, bottle of red wine, tipsy, and barely able to stand in too small sensible mom-heels, while feeling frustrated, hopeless, light-headed and dizzy, with no clue how much better his tomorrow would one day be.