From the moment Christine stepped into this body, she was trying to ignore her new anatomical features. She didn't want to think about the blood flowing into her penis, or the way it felt when it rubbed against her thigh. She had a very important job to do, and that was to deliver this unfamiliar body to an unfamiliar place. But now the job was done, and she was alone and in private. Could she allow herself to have some fun with it now?
The idea still troubled Christine. This was emphatically not her body to play with. But, she considered, her body was not Bronwyn's to play with, and the girl had done it anyway. She had no memory of that night, of course, but it wasn't a great stretch to guess that Bronwyn probably found something erotic in what she'd been doing. The thought of getting off on taking over someone else's body no longer seemed as strange to Christine as it probably would have before. Was that Bronwyn's ... unusual brain chemistry talking? Or was the girl subconsciously signaling that she wouldn't mind being used like that?
Christine's curiosity quickly overtook any sort of moral hang-ups. If she had to have this penis attached to her against her will, she felt compelled to at least get a good look at it. Removing Bronwyn's jeans, she found a pair of panties that seemed carefully designed to disguise the outline of what was hiding within. Steeling herself, she reached forward and carefully slid the panties down her legs. But she felt a little silly when it was finally revealed. As a mature woman, this was far from the first time she'd seen a penis up close and personal. The only real difference was the perspective she now saw it from. Well, not the only difference - Christine had never known a man who was so clean-shaven down there.
What didn't surprise Christine, but probably should have, was how hard her new cock was, how eager it was to be stimulated. She'd had plenty of time by now to rationalize her feelings of arousal in this strange situation. She was normally a straight woman, after all - of course she was going to get turned on when a penis was involved. Plus, she was pretty sure that Bronwyn's body, running on autopilot without its usual captain at the helm, was feeding her all the hormones it normally associated with the thought of switching bodies. And while she had no firsthand experience with one before, she'd heard many times that they had a mind of their own. In a sense, there were three minds coming together in this one body, and they all told Christine to go for it. To relieve the pressure that had been building up inside of her. To enjoy this, to the fullest, while it lasted.
"Firsthand experience". Christine giggled when the words crossed her mind once again. It sounded like a pretty good idea to her right now. She dutifully reached out her right hand - thicker and veinier than she was used to, but well-manicured and moisturized and clearly no longer masculine - and prepared for her first time. Well, hopefully it would also be the last. And the only. But there was no guarantee of that. As she grabbed onto her penis and started, gently, to stroke its shaft with the tips of her fingers, she couldn't put away the worry that putting herself back to normal with the zipper might not be so easy. Bronwyn didn't seem to have any idea how to do it. She might be stuck as a contraband leopard - or God knows what else she'd become - hidden away in a stranger's apartment, for quite a while.
These pessimistic thoughts did nothing to dampen Christine's arousal. In fact, they fueled it. This body, this brain - it was training her quickly to derive pleasure from what would otherwise be horrifying scenarios. She wondered if that training would stay with her after she left this body, or if it would all seem bizarre and perverted to her again the moment she pulled down the zipper.
In the meantime, she could use this as an opportunity to probe Bronwyn's psychology. Not that Christine was planning on becoming the girl's therapist when this was all over or anything - she was just curious to know why this felt so hot. The burning desire to be somebody - or something - else: that was obvious, and understandable. "No offense", Christine thought, and no one heard. But why did the added existential threat, the risk of never getting out of this dreadful predicament, make it even more appealing? Was it a humiliation thing, a short circuit in the brain between embarrassment and arousal? She was reminded of the anxious bus journey that brought her here. Worrying about being "clocked" was one thing. But the fear that someone might somehow catch on that she was an escaped zoo animal in a temporary human guise? Yeah, that had definitely had her penis pressing greedily against the tight confines of her underwear, much as she tried to ignore it.
With that insight in mind, and a cock growing ever larger in her hand, Christine cast her memory back a little further. That moment when she first woke up in the leopard enclosure, realizing that she was indistinguishable from her fellow inmates. Looking up, and seeing a crowd of people watching her with the same dull curiosity you reserved for any other lazing animal. The crushing feeling that this could be the rest of her life, day in and day out, eat, sleep, and fuck, in full view of the public. Bronwyn probably wished it had been her that ended up that way. No wonder the girl had immediately set out to go in there and do the same to herself on purpose.
No wonder she had offered herself up as an empty shell for Christine to use. The thought crashed through Christine's mind at the same moment that she lost control. A shimmering white rope shot out, with nothing to aim it, and landed on the carpet below. The pleasurable feeling that had built up an unbearable heat in her head now started to recede, as she panted roughly with a noise that was entirely unfamiliar. She was exhausted - not just from the exercise routine she had just put herself through, but from every impossible thing that had happened to her today.
But the day was far from over. She still had to let Bronwyn out, and then it would be time to try and figure out how to fix all of this. But she couldn't do that yet, either. Christine groaned as she examined the mess she'd just made. A sense of shame - and not the good kind this time - washed over her as she realized what she'd just done. She couldn't let the girl find out what Christine had been doing with her body, even if - especially if - Bronwyn would have been totally into it. And that meant Christine had some thorough cleaning up to do.