Like a true woman.

The mirror shows your reflection, the soft sunlight barely obscuring your face with glare, a wad of saliva travels down your throat, this is it. You're a **** now, and a sex **** at that. The comb pulses with a deep resonance in your hand, it understands your subservience, you're not quite sure you do though. The bristles run through your hair with ease, each brush lengthening the soft brown of your hair. You marvel at the work of the brush, strong glossy strands of auburn brown reach down to the small of your back, you give a little twirl, admiring the way it flows and swings through the air with easy grace. The brown hair seems so bland though, magic was never your forte but with the brush in hand you might be able to change the color of your hair, it vibrates in response, eager for any display of power extending beyond that of a glorified hair extender. "Fuck it." you mutter as you conjure the image of turning your hair into a bright shade of platinum blonde. The comb latches onto your scalp with ravenous affection, you can feel it working into your hair, you brush away and the hair comes away light and blonde.

You also make out several sets of what appears to be make up, along with a dozen accessories, ranging from necklaces to ankle bracelets. You could really spruce yourself up and appease your mistress, or you could just go out plain faced.