"I wish I'd had actual geisha training instead of regular school," Sally said into the mirror.
She shuddered, and almost immediately noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see that the trophies atop her dresser -- trophies she'd gotten at various school events -- were disappearing one by one.
The disappearances next moved to her bookshelf -- her yearbooks, and books she'd read in class, and finally, with no apparent purpose, the bookshelf itself. It was, however, replaced by a fully-stocked makeup table with its own giant mirror attached to it, delighting Sally.
She found herself sitting at the makeup table's bench, suddenly able to remember all the training she'd had on doing her makeup, the hundreds if not thousands of times she'd practiced, until now when she could practically do it in her sleep. As she started to fix the smearing, she thought back on the training that was now indelibly imprinted upon her brain, as if she'd been in the intense classes as long as she could think back, for over 10 years.
She'd been trained as a perfect hostess, with particular knowledge of elaborate tea-pouring ceremonies, but was also an expert on creating large affairs for thousands, intimate dinner parties for friends, or even a "party of one" for someone who just wanted to feel special. She could even cook, clean, or do any number of chores that might be asked of her. She could even play several instruments, including the koto and the shakuhachi.
She was also an excellent conversationalist. Although she didn't have the academic background of someone who'd gone to regular school -- her math skills had huge holes in them, in that she could stick to a budget if necessary when planning a party, but fractions were mostly beyond her grasp -- but she'd studied just a little bit about many, many topics, enough to make her able to chat amiably with just about anyone. She'd even read the Cliffs Notes for many of the books that had just disappeared from her bookshelf.
The thing she'd learned above all else, though, was submissiveness, particularly to men, particularly to men who had hired her. This was now so ingrained in her that she would commit hari-kari rather than say no to a man -- although to be fair, she had learned a number of ways to say no without actually saying "no," but they were supposed to be an absolute last resort.
And she found that one of the "last resort" items involved sex. Geishas were not escorts or prostitutes, and they definitely weren't common street whores. They were supposed to remain mysterious and chaste, giggling instead of giving a come-hither look, never fully acknowledging her clients' sexuality, or hers.
That was disappointing to Sally, given that she thought of herself as the perfect sexual creature. What a shame that no one who enjoyed her many skills would be able to enjoy her body in the way she wished they could.
Wish -- she looked into the makeup table's mirror to see the magic standing mirror reflected in it, at an angle such that her reflection from the makeup mirror was itself visible. She looked into the reflection of her dark brown eyes as they appeared in the magic mirror behind her and said, "I wish my geisha training had included sex."
