CHAPTER TWELVE

Sarah stood frozen, her mind a chaotic storm of thoughts and emotions, the phone call with Patricia still. She stared blankly ahead, her body rigid with tension as she frantically tried to piece together a plan. Idea after idea flickered through her mind, only to be discarded as quickly as they appeared. She could go back and confront Patricia... no, that was too dangerous. She could tell her mother... no, too far away. Maybe she could convince Brenda to help her... no, she couldn't involve her sister in this madness.

But amid the scattered, panicked thoughts, darker notions began to creep in, unbidden and unwanted. What if she had bigger breasts? No, she thought, shaking her head to dispel the idea. What if she stole her sister's car and drove to the mall? No, that was absurd. What if she just gave in, let Patricia take control, and be done with it? No, no, no, she repeated to herself, trying to drown out the insidious whispers that gnawed at the edges of her mind.

"What am I going to do? I have to do SOMETHING," she muttered aloud, her voice trembling with desperation. "But I... I... I don't want to hurt Brenda..." Her words faltered. 

"…even though she's dumb and ugly. Tee hee!" came a voice from behind her, an eerily familiar one.

Sarah spun around, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes locked onto the full-length mirror across the room, and what she saw made her blood run cold. Staring back at her was a figure she recognized but could scarcely believe. It was her, but not her. The face, the body, the voice—they were hers, yet grotesquely enhanced and twisted.

The reflection in the mirror smirked at her, its expression dripping with condescension. Her lips were fuller, painted in a glossy pink that shimmered in the dim light. Her waist was impossibly tiny, accentuating wide, seductive hips. Long lashes framed eyes that glittered with a predatory gleam, and her thick, wavy blonde hair cascaded down to her shoulders. The figure was clad in a pink crop top that clung tightly to her ample chest, making her tenting nipples clearly visible. Her very short jean shorts left little to the imagination, so snug they rode up her ass crack. She leaned to one side, her hands resting on her formidable hips, a picture of smug sexy confidence.

"It's sooo true. She's nothing compared to you," the Other Sarah purred, her voice a sultry, breathy whisper that sent shivers down Sarah's spine. It was her own voice, yes, but it reeked of Britney, her other high school bully, Patricia's lackey.

Sarah's mind struggled to comprehend what she was seeing. This couldn't be real. She blinked rapidly, hoping that the image would disappear, that it was just a trick of the light, or maybe the remnants of a dream. But the figure in the mirror remained, her smirk widening as she watched Sarah's reaction with evident amusement.

Without thinking, Sarah whispered, "Yes... I mean no! Who are you?"

The Other Sarah shifted her weight to the opposite hip, her smirk never faltering. "Me? Why, I'm you, silly. I'm what you SHOULD be."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Sarah's heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat of fear and uncertainty. The Other Sarah, peering from the mirror, threw her head back and started giggling, unnervingly cheerful. The giggle slowly morphed into a high-pitched cackle, a sound that echoed in Sarah's ears, grating against her sanity. The laughter renewed as she looked back at Sarah, her eyes gleaming with malicious glee. It was as if Sarah's horrified expression was the funniest thing she had ever seen. The cackling grew louder, filling the room with its sinister resonance.

Sarah stared at the figure in the mirror, her mouth slightly agape as she took in the sight of her "other" self. It was like gazing at perfection, a form that was everything she had never dared to be. The way she moved, how every pump part seemed to bounce and jiggle at the smallest motion. There was an effortless sensuality and a wicked confidence in the Other Sarah, a stark contrast to Sarah's own timid, uncertain demeanor.

She couldn't help but compare this version of her in the mirror to herself — Sarah, the meek; Sarah, the lumpy; Sarah, the worthless. But this other woman, she had to admit, was better in every way, a force of nature, all curves and seduction, exuding an aura of pure sexual dominance.

"You like what you see? Who am I, like, kidding? I know you do. Don't I?" Other Sarah's voice dripped with arrogance, a sly grin tugging at her full, glossy lips.

Sarah turned away from the mirror, her thoughts swirling in a frantic storm. She started to circle the room, her hands clutching her head as if trying to expel the image of her other self from her mind. 

"No. This is all in my head. Just ignore it. It's not real. It's not real. It's—" Her words faltered as she found herself glancing back at the mirror. There she was again, the Other Sarah, waving playfully. 

"Hello! You know, it's not nice to call a girl an 'it.' I'm very, very real. Just look at me." she said, as she gave a sexy little spin.

Sarah's breath caught in her throat as she watched her other self explore her body with a deliberate sensuality, running her hands over every curve with moaning satisfaction that was almost palpable. She grasped her huge breasts, squeezing them like ripe water balloons, the fatty flesh spilling out over her fingers. Sarah stood there, entranced by the display, feeling a mix of awe and horror.

"Here... I'll mirror you like a real reflection, so you can see what it could be like," Other Sarah purred, her voice silky and persuasive.

Sarah shook her head. "What? No, I need to... I need to..." But her words drifted away as she noticed that the Other Sarah was indeed mirroring her movements, perfectly imitating her as if she were an actual reflection.

Sarah raised her hands as if to push away the image, but the very action gave her pause, piquing her interest. She cocked an eyebrow, and so did the reflection. She ran her hand along her face, and so did the reflection. She ran her fingers through her long blonde locks, and so did the reflection. She bit her thick lips, wiggled her hips, and struck a sexy pose... and so did the reflection.

This call and response started to affect her, sending waves of bliss through her body with each movement. A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine, and she felt an intoxicating sense of rightness as she moved in sync with her other self. She began to gyrate suggestively, taking handfuls of her own tits and ass, massaging them, as her body moved with rhythm.  She was twerking and thrusting her hips at the mirror, not looking away for even a second. The movement felt natural, freeing, like she was shedding layers of herself that had weighed her down for years.

"Mmmmmm." Sarah moaned, as one of her hands slid down her body and into her pants. She continue to thrust and gyrate as her fingers slipped past her moist fold and into her needy pussy. "Ung! Ung! So... sexy. Ung!" 

Sarah moved her fingers in and out, gaining more and more moisture.  In the mirror, it appeared like she was finger fucking her 'other' self, and she loved it. She moved faster and faster. Girlish squeals and moans eeked out of her mouth.

 "Mmmm, mommy like." Hearing herself talk like that only increased the pleasure. It felt good—no, it felt perfect. This was who she was meant to be, this felt right. She was completely absorbed in the rhythm, lost in her own lustful reflection.

But suddenly, a part of her, the rational part buried deep within, screamed out in protest. She halted abruptly, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her movements. She felt like she lost some time, like she actually blacked for a few moments. Sarah took her hand out of her pants, looking at the damp fingers, and then noticed that in her other hand she was holding her cell phone.

"Wha—? What? Who was I calling?" she muttered, confusion clouding her thoughts. She looked at the screen and saw that her most recent call was to 'Jack.' "Why would I call... her? Did you do this?" she demanded, her voice shaking as she glared at her reflection.

Other Sarah was back to moving on her own, a sarcastic smile plastered on her face like she had just gotten away with something devious. "What? Me? No. What ARE you talking about?" she replied, feigning innocence with a playful tilt of her head.

Sarah's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she stared at her mirror image. "Jesus, what was I doing? I need to think. I can do this!" she declared, more to herself than anyone else.

She began to pace again, her mind a battleground as she fought to regain control. She knew she had to keep her thoughts clear, to stay focused on finding a way to fix whatever was happening to her. 

Sweat dripped down Sarah's brow as she walked the room, her mind working overtime to piece together a plan. She forced herself to focus, to push past the distractions that kept clawing at her thoughts. It was working—bit by bit, a plan was beginning to take shape in her mind. She could see it now, a clear path out of the nightmare she was trapped in. Each step, each piece of the puzzle, fit perfectly into place. For the first time in what felt like forever, she smiled. It was a small, hopeful smile, but it was enough to ignite a flicker of confidence within her.

But just as the final part of the plan clicked into place, a voice shattered her concentration.

"Hey! Hey you! Let me, like, help! I'm super duper smart, n'stuff."

In an instant, the plan she had so carefully constructed evaporated from her mind, like mist burned away by the morning sun. The clarity she had fought so hard to attain was gone, leaving behind only confusion and frustration.

"No!" Sarah cried out, clutching her head as if she could somehow force the plan back into her mind. "I had it..."

Other Sarah stood in the mirror, a malicious smile playing on her lips before quickly morphing into an innocent, almost sympathetic expression. "What? Let me help. Pwease!" she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

Sarah waved her away, frustration mingling with a creeping sense of despair. "No. You're not going to help me. You're... mean and... mmmm... wicked." As she spoke the words, a surge of endorphins coursed through her body, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She clenched her fists, trying to suppress the sensation.

Other Sarah pouted, her eyes wide and pleading. "What? Noooo. Why don't you go to the lab at the corporate building? They have an exact replica of the machine, right? Couldn't you fix yourself with that?"

Sarah started to protest, to dismiss the suggestion as another trick, but then she paused. "That... that's a... that's a great idea. Wow. Wait... why are you helping?"

Other Sarah put her hands behind her back, blinking slowly in an exaggerated show of innocence. "Well, I might look naughty, but deep down I wanna be a good girl. Besides, I'm you and that's what YOU want, right?"

Sarah furrowed her brow, stretching her head as she tried to reconcile the conflicting emotions swirling within her. "I... I guess," she muttered, still unsure but feeling the pull of the idea taking root in her mind. It made sense, didn't it? Going to the corporate building, using the replica machine—maybe that was the way out of this nightmare.

"Ok, but let's go out the back of the house. I wanna avoid my... stupid sister... AH! Stop it!" The words had slipped out before she could stop them, and the moment she realized what she had said, a wave of guilt washed over her. But it was quickly followed by that familiar, sickening rush of pleasure, the endorphins spiking in response to her cruel thoughts.

Other Sarah giggled, her hands covering her mouth in mock apology. "Sorry! Tee hee! Well, let's go fix us!"

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had to stay focused. She had to believe that she could still find a way out of this, that she could still be herself—whoever that was anymore. She glanced at the mirror one last time, seeing Other Sarah standing there with a mischievous glint in her eye, before turning away and heading for the door.

As she snuck out of the house, careful not to make a sound, she could feel Other Sarah's presence lingering in the back of her mind. Even though the reflection had disappeared, she was still there, a shadow that had woven itself into the fabric of her thoughts.

* * *

Sarah gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she sped down the road in her sister's car. The guilt gnawed at her, a persistent, sick feeling in her gut. Brenda would never forgive her for this, for taking the car without asking. But intertwined with that guilt was a twisted sense of pleasure, a dark thrill that buzzed in her veins. The lines between right and wrong were blurring, and she could feel it worsen, moment by moment.

As she navigated toward her workplace, her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the reflection staring back at her. Other Sarah was lounging in the backseat, her legs provocatively spread wide. Her shorts were pulled down and her pierced pussy was visible, swollen and glorious. A sly grin curled on her lips as she played with herself.

"I'm so proud of you, stealing from our sister," Other Sarah purred, idly circling her clit, her voice dripping with mockery and pride.

Sarah shook her head, trying to ignore the reflection. "I'm borrowing it. She'll... she'll understand," she muttered, though the words felt hollow and unconvincing even to herself.

Other Sarah rolled her eyes dramatically, her expression full of exasperated amusement. "Right, right. Whatever you need to tell yourself. Oh! Look at that guy in the other car. He's super cute! Let's stop and say hi... and let him lick our pretty pussy, make him our pet. I bet we can get him to do all sorts of things for us."

Sarah's eyes drifted to the car next to her at the stoplight. The man in the driver’s seat was, in fact, incredibly attractive. His strong jawline, broad shoulders, and confident posture caught her attention immediately. She felt a strange pull, an almost magnetic attraction to the idea of stopping and flirting with him. The thought of using her feminine power to control him, to make him do whatever she wanted, was enticing in a way that both thrilled and terrified her.

For a moment, she considered it, her mind racing with possibilities. But then, with a sudden jolt of clarity, she snapped back to reality. "No!" she yelled, her voice filled with both fear and determination, halting the train of thought before it could go any further.

Without thinking, she reached up and yanked the rearview mirror off the windshield, the plastic snapping as it came free. The reflection of Other Sarah disappeared instantly. Sarah's heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her body as she tried to steady her breathing.

"No. I'm not stopping. Leave me alone," she muttered through gritted teeth, forcing her eyes back to the road ahead. "I've got to get there... fast."

She pressed her foot harder on the gas pedal, the car accelerating well beyond the speed limit. The world outside became a blur of lights and colors as she raced down the street, her focus narrowing to the road in front of her. The engine roared in response, the car vibrating with the intensity of its speed.

"Yes, I'm sorry," the voice of Other Sarah cooed inside her head, dripping with faux contrition. "I'll be a good girl. Drive faster!"

Sarah grimaced, her jaw clenched as she ignored the voice echoing in her mind. She couldn't shake the sensation of being watched, of having someone—or something—cheering her on. As she sped through the city, she occasionally caught brief glimpses of Other Sarah in the reflections of store windows, clapping her hands and urging her on with a delighted grin.

As she pushed the car faster and faster, a part of her still fought to hold on, to remember why she was doing this, why she had to get to the lab. She couldn’t let herself be distracted, couldn’t let Other Sarah take control. She had to stay focused, to keep her mind clear, to remember who she was.