Adrenaline hit my brain, pushing me into a hyperlucid state. All the hypothetical anxieties and imagined situations crumbled, pulling, away until only one thought was left on my mind.
I have a vagina, my brain stammered, an actual vagina.
The hyper lucid trance-like state extended to my body, leaving me feel very aware of every inch of it, my groin - still tingling with orgasmic aftershock - settling at the forefront. Without touching it I could feel it; the soft mounds of the outer labia, the sensitive lips on the inner labia, and a vague but distinct tunneling, caving into my body. Unlike my dick this vgina felt like an orefice, like an entryway, like you could use it to push into my body’s interior.
I shuddered at the thought, squatting up and down as I tried to get used to the feeling, pulling at my inner labia with my thumb and forefinger. It didn't really feel pleasurable, but I certainly could feel a dull uplifting sensation that I was instantly hungry for.
“Enjoying yourself?” Grace said. I shot my hands behind my back, but nodded nonetheless. The dull pleasure lingered, distracting me from the girls. When my mind returned the two of them were giving me a puzzled look, I smiled, trying to amble over back to them.
I lost my footing again, saving myself from fully reentering the water, and rising up, before the girls, trying to look natural while they just chucked away. My brain was returning to normal at last, the liquid washing away the hyperlucidity as the anxieties returned, filling my brain with notions of perpetual servitude. But, as my brain crystallized a snapshot of it, showing me on my knees with a smile, I became oddly calm, as a tingle went through my body again. I wasn’t scared of the image of slavery, I was actually excited, a revalation that sent me head-first into the water.
“Be careful!” They added in unison, before chuckling into a kiss. That was impossible now, my brain drunk off every happy chemical it could muster. They invited me over, and I very carefully crept over to them.
The two girls were pressed up against my body, their breasts squished on my arms, their cocks resting seemingly over-present. They were whispering something to me, but my mind was less concerned about that and more concerned about those cocks. Every time I thought about them, about those cocks on those girls, my heart fluttered, and a new sensation radiated out from my crotch, an electric tingle left me feeling warm. I could feel a throbbing in an area that could of only have been my clit.
“... It's rude to ignore your mistresses,” Grace growled, “especially right now.”
“Sorry, I’m just…”
“Getting used to it? We know.” She barked, drumming her nails on my shoulder.
“We really don't want to break your mind,” Danny chimed in, stroking my inner thigh, “but we might have to if you keep this up.” The tingling now came out in waves, and I realized that not all of that was her hand. As I tried to think about her threat my mind wandered, and suddenly I was creating an image of what they wanted me to be. I was a tall, big-breasted bovine of a woman, following them around, content with my place, trapped inside my mind. When my mind slipped into reality that thought terrified me, when it drifted away into fantasy I was begging for it.
What on Earth was going on? I thought, shaking the whole notion out of my head. Focus, I thought, focus on your humanity.
I looked over to Danny, trying to take my mind off it. I was immediately transfixed by the glow of her eyes, and the resulting tingle sent my mind drifting away again, desperate for her touch.
It was odd, like there were two goodnesses I could feel, one dull and slow, the other sharp and passing immediately. It was like my pleasure was on a spectrum, with the more abstract joys making me feel the tingle, and the more physical joys making me feel the dull pleasure, and when I tried to hold onto them my brain seemed to fight against it. The sharper and more tingling pleasure was like trying to chase ghosts, while the duller was like trying to grab mist, and both often moved between one another as I moved from the thought of the sensation into experiencing it.
I was beginning to realize the quantum physics of my own pleasure, and already becoming frustrated by it, the teasing only making it more frustrating, and harder to focus on anything but pursuing that pleasure.