Walk through the mirror

Gingerly, you push your hand further into the mirror. It feels like passing through a pool of warm water, and you enjoy as it washes over your body as you step through.

You find yourself in a bigger, more luxurious room with high picture windows overlooking valleys and mountains. In one corner is a beautiful bathroom, with a giant marble tub and a large sink stocked with every kind of makeup and perfume. A gigantic bed is in the center with silk sheets.

You look back and see that the room you left is still there in the mirror--pushing your hand, you see that you can easily go back. But the more you explore this room, the more you wonder if you will want to.

Around the walls are dozens of outfits on mannequins. Next to each mannequin is a door. The outfits are wildly varied--you see a ballgown, a scandalously short French maid's outfit, a leather catsuit, spandex workout gear, a very minimalist bikini, a sheer white blouse and leather miniskirt, a schoolgirl's outfit and many others.

Since the maid's outfit is nearby, you try the door next to it, but it is locked.

The outfit seems appealing. You slide on the black thigh-high stockings and clip them to the garter belt. Strangely, there is no other underwear included. The dress somehow fits you perfectly, if you ignore the fact that the bodice barely covers the top of your new breasts and the skirt skims your thighs above the tops of the stockings.

The mirror has become a mirror again--you pause to admire yourself. As you twirl, you realize that any dramatic movement exposes your limp little dick to the world. Oh well. On a whim, you try the door again.

"Come in, my little maid--I have so much for you to do!"

You jump back: the door opens onto a beautiful living room. Sitting on the couch is a beautiful woman clad in a long silk robe and holding a champagne flute. Her eyes rake over your form, the slightest hint of a smirk on her face.

Do you: