Despite the obvious comparison, my folds, opening, and tentacle didn't really feel like lips, mouth, and tongue. The only way I can describe it is by saying I was a vagina, I felt like a vagina, a pretty strange vagina but a vagina in it's entirety. I could feel my clit, my folds, my vaginal walls and the tentacle within them, feeling every inch, my mind hyper focused on these parts. It's hard to describe accurately really, because that was really the tip of the iceberg that was the new me, as I also controlled the related organs, like her ovaries, and her bladder, feeling them vividly if I put my mind to it.
Moreover, I felt like a vagina in some transcendent, cultural, possibly even spiritual way. I felt femenine, I felt female, I felt horny and I felt motherly, almost like the pinnacle of a certain kind of female experience. I felt like I had left my manhood behind, that I was a woman now, but while that sounded right in my mind I also wondered if I would feel the same way if I chose to be a breast? Was this a female experience, part of the essential female experience, or maybe just an experience with a female edge to it? That said, it was hard to wax philosophical about these things, especially when feeling so good.
I soon settled, my body relaxing into its natural state, suspended deep within her, listening with unseen ears to the body of Sarah as it began to move. I won’t lie, it felt pretty sensual and oddly relaxing, my whole body swaddled and suspended by her muscles and ligature of her body, by Sarah herself. I knew Sarah, I knew she loved me, and now not only could I feel her love radiating into me but I could feel her, constantly there, every footstep pulsing through me, every breath distantly pushing me, her heart beating the blood that passed through me.
My mind began to drift, soothed by the rhythm of Sarah’s life as she carried on, the physical world as it affected me, but only ever indirectly. I felt her wrap me up, a soft cotton rag covering my surface, suspended my gentle elastic, something else - a skirt perhaps - created a cushion of warm air close by. It felt very cozy, and as I relaxed I felt her heart sing, as pleased by my position with her as she was by me. I could feel the distant trace of what must have beem an initial fear at the idea, but now that was long gone.
It seems she rather liked this arrangement, liking the power over me, loving the fact that I could influence her back, and adoring the secrecy of the arrangement. We were both smiling, and both brimming with excitement for what was to come, as she finally rose from our bed.
I could feel that Sarah was hungry, the Chronivac potentially taking the food from her belly as part of the process, and I knew our flat well enough to recognise where we were going from the way she walked. It was actually very therapeutic, feeling the subtle sway of her hips, my body slight swaying with them, feeling the power she felt knowing how sexy we were. I think she was starting to exaggerate it, wanting to show it all off, wanting people to love her body as much as she loved it, but actually really wanting a PB&J sandwich much more than that. Regardless, I felt it too, and felt our mutual moistness as the excitement built.
For the next hour Sarah carried on with her life, doing household chores with a slight pose to her step. Every now and then I felt the click of our DSLR, tingling with every shot, sending a little moisture into my crevices, getting subtly moister. I wanted to be seen, wanted to be exposed. I wanted people to awe me, to love me in a very sexual, perverse way. As I thought about it I couldn't help but let loose a gush of fluid, tingling in my entirety. I flexed and constrained my muscles instinctively, curling my tentacle as it pulled the liquid from spooling out. I felt Sarah shudder in response, pausing to catch her breath.