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Review This Story || Author: Jean-Michel Maserati

Mirrorman

Part 1

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   Mirrorman
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              by  Jean-Michel Maserati
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Warning
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Just to make it perfectly clear up front. This tale contains explicit sex
scenes; if you find such descriptions offensive, I suggest you leave the site
now. Also, if for any reason whatsoever you should not be permitted access to
this material (for example, due to your age and/or the laws of the area where
you either live or are currently staying) then you should quit now. I can and
will take no responsibility for any consequences if you don't.

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The eyes that stared back out of the mirror darkened slowly from sparkling green
to a hard and emotionless black. The pupils seemed to expand as the irises
correspondingly darkened, until there were just two mesmerizing jet-black jewels
set in the white of the eye. Featureless and inhuman, they gave no hint of the
emotions hidden behind: all that could be seen in them were tiny triple
pinpricks of light at the top. Perfect miniature images in the convex surface,
reflections of the three light bulbs in the ceiling behind the mirrored face.

This was the fourth time this had happened today, each occurrence more emphatic
and more disturbing than the last one. It had all begun with that incident with
that weird asshole who'd bumped into them as they were standing at the school
gates. He'd come jogging round the corner at quite a pace, either not looking
where he was going or unable to see properly through those trendy silvered
shades. He'd bowled both Kelly and Ricky over, and then gone flying himself to
end up sprawled on the ground close by. Unharmed, so it seemed: he just swore
mildly, then recovered his manners and offered his apologies to them all, before
holding up one hand which Teri had naturally taken hold of to pull him to his
feet. Who wouldn't? And then as they stood face to face, she caught sight of
herself for just a moment in the metallic sunglasses. A surge of energy ran
instantly through her hand from his, up her arm until her whole body was
tingling; it must only have lasted a second or so, but in that fleeting moment
she saw the eyes for the first time... followed by an almost subliminally short
picture of herself, looking down as if at a shorter person, with the gates and
the high school buildings behind her. As he would have been seeing her. She
squealed and let go at once, at which the man just said sorry and jogged off
again. Teri explained her reaction to her classmates by saying that the jerk had
had some kind of joke-shop palm buzzer or the like in his hand, but she was okay
now.

Twice more during the day she'd been troubled by the same vision. Straightening
her make-up in the mirror after going to the toilet, she'd been overcome for
just a couple of seconds by a sudden headache and the sensation of being
watched. Then, slowly but undeniably, the eyes in the mirror began to change.
Hazily, the face began to blur and take on another form as well, until she was
convinced she was staring at the man who she'd helped to his feet earlier. She'd
screwed her eyes shut and shaken her head, after which everything was normal
again. But it remained an unsettling experience, leaving her unable to
concentrate on her lessons at all that afternoon. She'd decided to skip the last
periods and go for a work out. She was shaken by what she thought she had seen -
though she knew she couldn't possibly really have done - and Teri was a firm
believer in the beneficial effects of a bit of mindless exercise to take her
thoughts off whatever was troubling her. Boyfriends, grade point averages, her
cash allowance, conflict with her parents about staying out late, all the usual
teenage bugbears... a thorough gym-session would make her feel much better. So
she got into her beaten-up old Impala and drove off to the mall.

And just as she was about to park the car, it happened again. She looked up in
the rear-view to check she was clear behind, and there was that wacko feeling of
being spied upon again. Black eyes, hard and glinting, staring out of the mirror
at her from her own face. Stunned, she stepped hard on the brakes and shut her
eyes; when she opened them again this time, the illusion had not gone away. She
was looking down into her car, seeing herself from outside it: a pretty blonde
in jeans and T-shirt, sitting in the driver's seat and looking up through the
windshield. Looking up at herself, as if she were standing at some vantage
point. A balcony above. No, she was from a much closer perspective than that,
almost as if she were lying on the windshield. No glass in between... She tried
to concentrate, which created a woozy swirling feeling and a sharp pang of
migraine pain. Thankfully, the out-of-body viewpoint then blurred and bloated
before reforming into normality. Teri stayed sat there for a minute, now
seriously beginning to worry about her state of mind: she had quite definitely
been looking at her image in the rear-view mirror one moment, then looking at
herself from out of that mirror the next. Imprisoned in the glass like a fly in
amber, staring down at herself presumably from within those black-centered and
unblinkingly alien eyes. An impatient blast on the horn from the next car behind
brought her back to her senses. She breathed deeply, trying to clear her head of
these unreal thoughts and then reversed neatly into the space and strode
purposefully off to the fitness center.

It was only three thirty, so the gym wouldn't be opening for a couple of hours
yet: mostly it was only open in the late afternoon and evening, outside of
working hours for the clients. But her mom and dad let her have a key - they
didn't mind her going along on her own. If anything, they preferred it since
they were well aware that the macho young man who managed it for them in the
evenings had his eye on Teri. The fitness center was her mother's business, with
a big floor for dance and aerobics and the like on one side, where she gave
lessons during the day (and which they hired out for parties or whatever in the
evenings) and on the other side of the corridor were a couple of rooms with
weights and rowing machines and exercise bikes and God knows what else. A
solarium. A coffee machine. All the obvious things. Her mom was tidying up,
having just finished for the day. Classes usually only went on from about nine
till three - her dad had a good job and they didn't exactly need the extra money
desperately, but it gave her mom a sense of purpose and independence to have her
own business as well. The last aerobics pupils were ushered out and then Teri
nattered with her mom for a few minutes before she went off to do the shopping
or get her hair fixed or whatever was next in her diary. That left Teri by
herself in the fitness center for an hour or so, which she found just fine. She
needed a little while to come to her senses. She changed quickly into tracksuit
and trainers, warmed up single-mindedly and then spent a few minutes pushing
herself hard with the dumb-bells and on the Nautilus. Feeling much better now,
she then decided to take advantage of the main room being empty for once. Do
some aerobics without her mom's critical evaluation. Practice some of the
cheerleader moves until she got the timing right for once. Or the ballet steps
she'd loved as a little girl, until it had become clear in the last two or three
years that she'd not inherited her mother's petite frame and agility but her
father's lithe and gangly athleticism. She'd gotten her blond hair from him too,
and her volatile temper and aggressive mind-set. About the only things she had
in common with her mom were a flair for languages and those captivating green
eyes. But they got along well enough.

So Teri turned on the lights in the studio-hall and went in to round off her
workout. A few stretches against the wallbars on the left hand side of the room,
a few high kicks and star jumps facing the mirrored wall on the right. Finally
she walked over to pick up the towel she had hung on the single wooden rail that
went along the mirror wall at waist height. And in doing so she'd caught sight
of her reflection from close quarters and immediately the fourth episode had
started. But this was much more intense. The image of herself with those
impossibly wrong eyes had somehow hardened and become more concrete, remaining
even when she shut her eyes and shook her head. She was shocked and confused,
but too fascinated or too entranced to look away for long. At some basic level,
she quite simply knew that she was under attack - her mind rebelled, her
instincts told her to turn away and get out of there. But she couldn't move, and
her higher intellect was still busy telling her this was all nonsense and that
there would be a perfectly rational explanation somewhere. Helpless, she stared
back at those mesmerizing black eyes, transfixed like a night-time rabbit in
approaching headlights as the soulless depthless dark gems grew in intensity
until... There was a whirling blur of shapes as everything in her field of
vision morphed illogically and coalesced again into another view dizzily. She
must have fallen and spun round, because she was now lying limply at the foot of
the mirror. Slowly and uncertainly, she maneuvered herself into a sitting
position and stood up. It took a moment to register what was wrong: her mirror
self remained drowsily on the floor with her head in her hands. "Theresa," she
said to herself sharply, "pull yourself together. This is not real. It's a
dream." Her doppelganger lay down on her back on the floor and laughed
nervously, saying something similar. "Hey, wake up," yelled Teri, suddenly
rather frightened. Her twin image appeared not to hear. She banged on the glass,
also to no discernible effect. She dug her nails hard into her left palm, at
which her alternate self looked strangely at her own left hand for a moment and
then stood up and started walking around, stretching muscles and apparently
checking nothing had been damaged when she fainted. Teri was thoroughly scared
of this illusion now, and decided it was time to get out of here and go back
home. She turned from the mirror, intending to walk away and out of the room.
But couldn't. The door was slightly ajar, but seemed immovably stuck in that
position. Everything inside the room was utterly solid and unmoving - even the
towel at her feet was a rough and rock-solid replica that scraped her fingers,
every fiber adamant-hard. Through the crack of the double doors, everything
outside the room appeared as a mind-boggling swirling blur of undefined shapes.
Panicking now, she ran to the far side of the room, springing up the wallbars to
look out of the window. See what was outside - but somehow she knew before she
looked that there would be no Outside to see. The truth dawned on her and was
confirmed when she heard the door buzzer go and watched her other body walk
perfectly normally out of the swinging double door to go and answer it. Heart
racing, Teri looked down at her wrists. The big freckle was on the back of her
left hand, not her right. Bracelet on the left. Watch on the right... the face
inverted, the second-hand ticking inexorably backwards. Anticlockwise.

She was the one in the mirror. Trapped.

Teri watched in confusion as the young woman who could have been her twin sister
ushered the jogger in. The same guy. She was too shocked and confused initially
to do anything but look on and listen. The girl brought in two stools and a
small foldaway table from the coffee bar, followed by two cups of coffee in
disposable Styrofoam cups. From the rucksack which the jogger had been wearing,
he produced a small but expensive-looking video camera and a small tripod. He
switched it on and while they drank their coffees, he filmed the girl's face
from various angles as she smiled flirtatiously at him, her big green eyes
excitedly wide as he talked to her. Teri listened in disbelief to the bullshit
soft sell about him being in the movies and having been so attracted by her
looks when he bumped into her that he had followed her here and would like to
record her doing her kung-fu moves, that there might be opportunities for her...
And there she was, on camera, drinking in the spiel like a complete blonde
bimbo. Finally, he set the camera on the tripod and the girl started on her
exercise routine.

The man then turned and looked at Teri. Not at the girl dancing away in the
room, but directly at Teri herself, imprisoned in the reversed world. "All
bullshit, of course," he said. "As I'm sure you know. But it's my insurance
policy, should you decide to lodge a complaint later. It will show you happily
consenting to my suggestions, it gives an unflattering picture of you as a
rather brainless young woman. And I'm sure you wouldn't want copies sent to
friends or family. Or plastered all over the Internet." He smiled at her
mirthlessly. "So enjoy the show." Going back over to the tripod, he adjusted it
again and then called out across the room. "That's excellent, Theresa, you sure
do move like an athlete. I like that in a woman, a bit of grace and elegance.
There's too many women in this business whose only well practised move is an
ungainly spread of the legs. You're great." Theresa-in-the-real-world thanked
him for the compliment and asked what she should do next. Theresa-in-the-mirror
was getting very frightened now. She screamed at him that he couldn't do this -
it was unfair, he should leave her alone, what was he going to do to her, why
had he picked on her... He ignored her. "Okay, let's see a little more of your
shape, girl." He gestured at her. "Lose the tracksuit, please, and we'll try
some more in just your undies. If you don't object." No, she didn't object. A
minute later, she was repeating the kicks and jumps but now wearing just her
panties and  halter, training shoes and leg-warmers.

He turned to Teri again. "In answer to your questions: I picked you because you
were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And you're a
very pretty young thing. And you're one of the smallish fraction of people who
can be handled in this way." "It's not right. You can't do this. It's...
kidnapping. False imprisonment. It's illegal. Must be." He shrugged his
shoulders. "I've been doing this for years, blondie. It may be unfair, but
remember: nobody will believe you for a minute. Certainly not with what's on
tape." She knew what he intended. "You're going to rape me, aren't you?" she
blurted out. "I'm going to fuck you good ad proper," he agreed. "Please," she
pleaded. "Don't. Take my purse, take the till money, the car... whatever you
want." He made a small moue with his lips. "Sorry, girl, but there's only one
thing I want from you."

He turned away and walked over to the real-world Teri. Or, as he called her,
Theresa. The young woman didn't make the slightest move to resist as he stood
behind her and began stroking her hair, kissing her neck, letting his hands run
up and down her bare arms, admiring their slender litheness and light
muscularity. Teri herself could feel his touch too, feather light and ghostlike,
somewhere in the recesses of her mind. She was losing control now - she screamed
at him, she hollered for help at the top of her lungs, she ranted and raved. But
the man took no notice, now having turned Theresa round to face him and advanced
on her until she was pushed back against the wallbars. They were kissing now,
with evident passion and responsiveness on the girl's part. She put her hands up
high above her head, grasping a convenient bar and leaving the whole of the
front of her torso undefended. Teri could feel a dim echo of the sudden rush of
sensation in the young woman when he brushed his fingertips over her nipples
through the tight halter. She couldn't watch. She turned away, still shouting
furious invective at him. Then she sat on the floor and shut her eyes. Tried to
think of other things, tried to drive the invasive presence from her mind. But
the shadow sensations of his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her breasts
kept on coming. Sobbing softly, she resigned herself to it.

After a minute or two, he went back to the camera. "You are one hot little
babe," he heard him say. "I reckon you know what I want you to do next. And I
even think you'll enjoy it." The pretty teenager walked back to the middle of
the room. "Obvious. You want sex. You want me." "Well, naturally - who wouldn't?
But I meant for the screen test. An actress can't have hang-ups - not unless her
agent tells her to. Topless, please." Wordlessly, the girl crossed her arms in
front of her and then peeled the halter-top off upwards. Teri was mortified -
okay, Tommy had obviously had a good feel often enough, but since most of their
sex had been in either his car or hers in darkened parking lots... and then her
doppelganger was saying it for her, hands on hips and making no effort to cover
herself, small pale breasts on display, perfectly rounded and with the little
red nipples. "That's the first time I've ever done that. Shown my tits." He
laughed. "You've got nothing there to be ashamed of. Delightful." He waved a
hand expansively. "And of course, I want to check whether you're a natural
blonde. The punters love that." Mortified, Teri looked on as the girl dropped
her knickers down over her knees, over the leg warmers and the trainers and
stepped out of them. Between the slim hips and the long legs was a
neatly-trimmed vertical bar of light golden-brown curls. "Will that do?" she
asked coquettishly. "Perfect," he said, eyes running eagerly up and down the
naked torso. Naked above the knees, anyway. "Great, let's have a little of you
doing your aerobics like that. What a sight for sore eyes." Obediently, the girl
danced and stretched as instructed.

The man picked up his coffee again and turned back to Teri. "According to my
texts, about twenty per cent of the population are susceptible," he said calmly.
"I've found it rather less than that, personally, but it's about right." He
leered at her. "One in five virgins, the book says. Actually, other young women
can mostly be manipulated too, but the technique seems genuinely to be disrupted
by a history of sexual activity." "Bullshit," she said angrily, flustered at the
direction the conversation was going. "Why should you think I've never done it?
Lots of the boys want me, they're queuing up. I'm nearly eighteen!" The man
looked up at the teenager, now standing next to him practising some karate
kicks. "I can always ask. Theresa?" "Yes, Sir?" "You had your cherry popped yet,
girl?" "Done it a few times with Tommy, Sir." Obscurely triumphant at having at
least denied him the bonus of deflowering her, Teri smirked. Okay, it was always
hurried and furtive - frantic late-night fumblings in one car or the other that
gave her no satisfaction other than her increased emotional hold over her
boyfriend. But this bastard didn't need to know that... "But we're not very good
at it yet," the teenage mirror image confessed. "He always takes ages with the
johnny and there's not enough room in the cars and it's too dark to see properly
and mostly he comes before I'm even half ready. Sometimes even before he's stuck
it in." Teri's heart sank as she heard this abominable creature with her own
body and voice casually giving vent to thoughts she barely dared voice even to
herself. "He won't take any time to help me get turned on, and he thinks going
down on you is dirty. And I don't think he knows where my clit is." Teri blushed
furiously in embarrassment, feeling reduced to about six inches tall. The man
smiled widely and then looked mock-seriously into the big green eyes. "Well my
dear, I have no such inhibitions and I am quite an expert student of female
anatomy. Finish your exercise routine like a good girl: business before
pleasure, eh?" Theresa continued her martial-arts moves with a robotic
single-mindedness that Teri found unnerving. "so, not virgo intacta, at any
rate," he said. "Not quite the 'maiden of untouched honor' that the ancients
describe - but so few are, these days. Like I implied earlier though, with my
somewhat more modern techniques I can get a bead on pretty much any girl of
relatively limited experience. And once the intellect, the ego, has been
banished from the mind along with its unwelcome cargo of petty inhibitions and
hidebound morality, what remains is very pliable and suggestible. Just a little
bit of... reshaping... recoloring... of the aura. And as you can see, this
little minx here wants nothing so much as for me to fuck her brains out." Teri
tried to interrupt, not so much because she needed the psychobabble explanation
as much to break his flow and try to catch him off his guard. Trying to rebel
hadn't been any use, and it was equally clear that nobody was going to come and
rescue her. Maybe keeping him talking would work, attempting to strike up some
kind of relationship, getting him interested in her as a person instead of just
another potential plaything. It seemed to be working - he was happy to explain.
"As I said. There is a nexus of pathways in the aura to which my access is
blocked by memories of such activity. The urge to reproduce is primal, very
deep-seated in both men and women. My books don't have the latest terminology,
but it seems as if the authors were referring to an actual physical location in
the brain as the source of an aura - hippocampus or hypothalamus nowadays. And
interference from neural pathways lying nearby can affect susceptibility in
various ways." He put his Styrofoam coffee cup down carefully on the little
table. "But I didn't come here to discuss the means with you. Charming as this
social intercourse may be, what I had in mind was intercourse of a more sexual
nature." "Bastard." He beckoned the girl over, at which she eagerly trotted
across to undress him with quite unnecessary lasciviousness.

She tried to put him out of her mind again, but it was impossible. The bodily
sensations could not be ignored as she felt fingertips and tongue exploring her
breasts. Then down over her stomach and on... even at a distance, the intensity
of desire as he probed and licked at her pussy seemed to be in imminent danger
of turning her body into an unresisting mass, almost liquefied and melted with
the warmth of sensation. The moment was near. Teri found not watching was even
worse on the nerves than being an unwilling spectator. She turned to look at the
naked couple. "Oh, this is so good," she was saying to the Mirrorman as he bent
her forward to grab the wooden rail by the wall. "Just so - deliciously
naughty." She wiggled her backside at him, smiling happily and looking at her
face in the mirror. Another dislocation of reality, and Teri found herself in
the same position: hands on the rail, bent at the waist, tits hanging down. Her
own pretty green-eyed face smirked stupidly back at her. "Tommy reckons I've got
a really cute ass," the girl called over her shoulder. "What do you reckon?" The
naked man walked up behind her and then slapped her playfully on the backside.
"Pretty tasty, Theresa, pretty tasty." Teri's heart sank. He wasn't only going
to have her, he was going to take her from behind. Instead, he placed his left
foot outside of hers and then taking her right ankle in his right hand, lifted
her leg up and round. The acquiescent young woman twisted her body round
obediently, altering her grip on the railing so that she was now looking up at
him. Her weight partly on the one foot that was still on the ground, her arms
locked straight behind her taking the rest of her hundred and five pounds weight
on the rail as she let him push her right foot round in a wide arc until it went
over his head and rested on his left shoulder. Teri felt a twinge of pain in the
tendons of her legs as her alter ego was forced to spread her legs wider until
she was all but doing the splits vertically. Horrified, she watched as the man
contentedly placed his eager erection at the entrance to the vagina of the girl
opposite. She could feel it probing at the sweaty fleshy folds and then: he
locked his wrists about the top of her right thigh and began thrusting with his
hips. The young blonde on the other side of the glass gasped with the initial
pain and then began squealing with delight as he sank himself into her. Teri
felt the warmth spreading outwards from her groin, the delicious rush of
anticipation within her own body as the young woman on the other side of the
divide drew shudderingly closer to orgasm. This was not right: her body was
responding to him, in ways which she did not want and would not accept and she
would fucking well kill him afterwards and like it too... her fear and anger
suddenly melded into something more primordial, an instinctive fury of animal
self-preservation.

Then everything blurred and swam out of focus for a second. She came round again
almost immediately, feeling her legs strained - the left ankle and foot pinned
by someone else's, the right uncomfortably strained and held up high, the
tendons between her thighs taut, her genitals being roughly rubbed and probed
and stretched like no frigging she'd ever given herself before. She could hear
his voice, calm and collected. "Your mind rejected my control once you got angry
enough," he said. "Interesting - probably means you've got a small measure of
innate strength yourself, rather than just being susceptible. Doesn't usually
happen quite so quickly, but it makes no difference - I'm enjoying myself much
too much to stop!" A sly chuckle.

She opened her eyes, to find herself looking down her splendid lithe torso as
normal, over the full breasts to the smooth flat stomach and the tawny bush...
He saw her open her eyes, the moment he'd been waiting for. She shuddered as she
felt him thrust home vigorously, savagely. Then he was fucking her hard, driving
in rhythmically as her young body - still feeling the hormonal rush of adrenalin
from the foreplay her id had so gloriously enjoyed - responded whether she liked
it or not. He reached his right hand down and round from her thigh to find the
clitoris, rubbing softly with his thumb until she was panting frantically and
reaching an unwelcome climax of her own just as he came hugely, deep inside her.

He stayed inside her afterwards, fondling her breasts and her pubic bush. Terri
lay back (or stood - depending on how you described her still inelegantly
spreadeagled pose) and cried, shivering at the feel of his strong fingers on her
nipples and no longer stimulated, now sickened rather, by the warm hardness of
his cock lodged uncompromisingly inside her. "You, young lady, are a superb
fuck. That was really satisfying. Pity I can't control you again - I could have
had a great deal of pleasure at your expense." He withdrew. "Still, it was nice
knowing you."

He let her slump to the floor and then calmly dressed himself again before
switching off the little video camera and pocketing it somewhere in his
voluminous rucksack. "Don't forget me," he said, mockingly blowing her a kiss
from the doorway. And then he was gone.

Teri sat on the floor, naked and cold, still in a state of shock. She drew her
knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly, rocked herself quietly. He was
gone. She was sore... but safe. Mentally and physically resilient enough to
recover, she knew. But no, one thing was for sure: she would certainly never
forget him.

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      All original work, copyright (c) J. M. Maserati, 2002 & 2003.
         May be freely disseminated for non-commercial purposes
    as long as the author is clearly identified and copyright stated.
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Review This Story || Author: Jean-Michel Maserati
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