There was something wrong with the mirror.
Amy hadn’t been able to spot it at first. She only gave herself a quick glance before heading out for work, but something had looked off. It nagged at her a little as she walked out the door. It was the same feeling she got when she knew she was forgetting something, but couldn’t figure out what it was. All she could do was try and put it out of her mind.
By the time she got home, she’d forgotten about it.
The next morning, it happened again. She looked in the mirror, and something looked wrong. She stared at her reflection, trying to spot it. Her outfit was fine, her hair looked okay… what was it that was bothering her so much?
Suddenly, she saw it. Her hair. It was… too light, or something. She thought maybe the lighting in the room was off, or something, but no. Her reflection looked, well, more blonde.
She touched her hair, confused. What was that about? How would something like that happen? She held out a strand, peering to the side at it. Definitely still light brown. She glanced at the same strand in the mirror. Blonde. What the fuck?
Amy was already going to be late for work, so she headed out and tried to forget it. Today, though, it was impossible. Her hair just felt wrong. She couldn’t stop tugging on it, looking at it. In every other reflective surface she could find, it looked fine. But now, that brown color looked incorrect somehow. On her way home, she couldn’t stop herself from running into the store and picking up a box of hair dye.
A few hours later, she looked in the mirror at her newly-blonde hair, and felt a strong sense of relief. They matched. It was such a load of her mind! She looked right, somehow. Correct.
But, as she looked, everything wasn’t quite right. Her reflection’s nails were painted. She held up her hand, amazed. How could something like this be possible? Hers clearly were not. Her reflection’s were. It didn’t make any sense!
As soon as she noticed, though, she couldn’t stop looking at them. She needed to paint them, to match. She couldn’t have her reflection not look like her. That was frightening, unnatural. She set about correcting her nails immediately.
The rest of the night passed that way. Each time she looked she’d see something new. More makeup. A bigger smile. New clothes. New shoes. By the time morning rolled around, Amy hardly recognized herself.
But she recognized her reflection. Finally, finally, finally they were the same. It was such a good feeling. Sure, she looked like a tramp, but at least… well, at least she looked correct.
Suddenly, as she watched, her reflection grinned. She turned away from Amy, walking back to the bed. There was somebody sitting there. A guy. A guy Amy recognized - Craig, from work. He was naked. Amy’s reflection grinned, then knelt down in front of him. His eyes closed as she started slowly licking his balls, one hand very gently stroking his stiff cock.
Amy watched, entranced. She knew what she had to do.
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