Body Swap

We sat that evening with legs up on the couch sipping wine, more content than I can ever remember, staring into each other's eyes. No words passed between us but a knowingness held us in awe of what we had just experienced. I had to remind myself that it was just a sex act. But, it transformed me in such a way that I can never imagine myself the same again. I am sure Sophie was thinking exactly the same. We were like two explorers that had first sight of an unimagineable treasure knowing that we were the only two people in the word that knew of its existence.

Our relationship started about 3 months ago, not long after Sophie hired me to be her research assistant. I had just completed my psychology degree with honours. After all that study I was very keen to be involved in some real research. Although, I had always been attracted to other women, I considered myself straight.

Well, that changed when Sophie sitting opposite me at her desk lent forward. Her top fell forward showing me her pert breasts neatly tucked into her bra. I felt a strong pull of sexual attraction. At first, I rationalised that it was really the teacher - student or boss - worker relationship that was the cause of my attraction. But it was during one of these sessions that she looked up and smiled as she caught me looking down the front of her top. My face immedately went bright red with embarassment. My secret longing exposed.

That first night back in her apartment sitting on the very same couch sipping wine was my first awakening to the carnal pleasures that Sophie introduced me too over the next few months.

It started innocently enough with kisses and soft touches but after a few weeks I became her clay that she moulded into more and more creative designs. I was intoxicated with her and willingly ceded all control to her. I became her toy, her object of desire, her canvas. She held me in an almost constant state of arousal. I loved her and I loved the work. However, neither of us could have guessed how our affair and our research would intersect.

Part of our research involved the study of self-image and how the mind creates and maintains a conception of self through the awareness of our physical and emotional existence with our memories. As we develop from child to adult into old age and as our knowledge and experiences expand we still retain the same conception of self. It is like everything about us can change except our notion of self.

Sophie happened to be reading a paper from a fellow researcher which gave her an idea. She decided to experiment on me. She asked me for permission and smiled as she mentioned that it would involve a sex act. I laughed. I was more than willing.

Sophie informed me that our experimental love making session would be in the laboratory and that it would be recorded with our equipment. This time I nodded my consent since I had come to trust her completely and also because I didn't want to show how much the idea of being able to watch us together excited me.

But first she said that she needed to train me, that I must follow everything she says without question. At this point my admiration for her grew even more. How did she know that above all else I secretly desired being her sex slave? But I couldn't bring myself to verbally acknowledge it, I just went along with it.

She trained me at her apartment sitting naked opposite each other on her rug. She had me wear a blindfold and then told me to mimic every touch I received from her and also to make every move I could feel she makes with her body.

I placed the blindfold over my eyes and waited. After about ten seconds I felt her hand caress and cup my right breast then with her fingers she stroked and pulled on my nipple. My nipple reacted almost immediately to her touch. She pinched me and asked me to concentrate. I came back from my sensory haze and with my right hand I reached out and did the same. Sophie told me she wanted me to synchronise our actions so that I stroked her exactly when she stroked me. This took some getting used to but after a while it came more easily than I imagined. It was a bit like playing the left hand on a piano. I was able to predict her movements and synchonise with her. And just like learning piano our movements became ever more intricate and innovative.

It took only a week but we became like two synchonised swimmers performing a routine. Touching and kissing with blindfolds. We perfected moving our right leg over the other person's left leg so that we could move our hips forward and rub our wet cunts and erect clits together without missing a touch or tongued kiss. We would lower our right hands over each other's belly and then with our thumb stroke each other's clit in unison.

Amazingly, I came to learn that at about the sixth stroke of her thumb on my clit I would have my first orgasm and my moaning would elicit a similar orgasm from her. Then we would catch our breathe and after some delicate kisses and in unison we would reach for the double ended dildo laying next to us on the floor. Again with the precision of two circus performers we would insert it into each other's swollen and wet cunts.

We would then fuck, moving our hips reliably and mechanically at first but with every little forward and back move we would became more and more able to sense and predict the move of the other so that we could lose ourselves in the act until racked by orgasm. Then we would kiss and fondle in unison before doing it again. Sophie told me we needed to get it right.

I tried to imagine the purpose of the experiment. Was I some sort of Pavlov's bitch? Cumming by anticipation. I had to admit I became wet when she said the words "put on your blindfold". Or was Sophie trying to see if by repetition it would take more and more rubs of my clit before I came? I was at a loss but I didn't care, I was engulfed in the pleasure and the emotion of being used. Used by her for pleasure and for a purpose.

But I was about to find out. It was the day in the laboratory.

Sophie brought in her rug and placed it on the floor of our laboratory. The familiar scent of her apartment and our lovemaking filled the room which had a calming effect on me. Fortunately, there was also a bolt on the door so we wouldn't be interrupted. Sophie was not her usual talkative self as we positioned the cameras. I assumed she was psyching herself into appearing professional for the cameras, little did I know that it was because she was suppressing her excitement.

After I stripped naked on her request, she handed me what looked like a thicker pair of sunglasses.

"Here, put these on", she said, "we will use these instead of the blindfolds since they also contain a camera and we will use them to record the session".

I put them on and noticed they had two mini high resolution LCD screens on the inside so I could see what was being filmed while still retaining the 3D view of the world. How cools is this, I thought. I could see Sophie clearly. She was naturally beautiful, with dark brown eyes, and flowing long black hair. Apparently, her grandmother was Indian and Sophie was lucky to inherit her smooth skin and complexion. We are very different in that respect. I am fair, blue eyed and blonde. My fellow students would often joke that I look more like the stereotypical dumb blonde with big boobs than a bright honours graduate.

Sophie motioned for me to sit on the rug. We assumed our usual position and as Sophie counted down..two...one...action...she pressed the record button. My LCD screen flicked for an instant. Then I saw her hand reach forward for my right breast as we practised. I responded with perfect timing, feeling her touch as I touched her.

Then it hit me. I shrieked, unable to stifle my involuntary response. I don't know how I missed it. It was as if my expectation had deceived me but then I realised I was looking at myself not Sophie. What I was seeing on my LCD screens was what was coming from her camera in her glasses and she must be seeing herself from the camera in mine. She had swapped the video signals.

It was unreal. I could see myself. Our practice paid off since even with this realisation I hadn't missed a beat. Then the illusion took hold. Even though I knew what was happening my mind formed its conception of the me in this reality. It was like I couldn't re-program millions of years of evolution in those few seconds. What I was seeing was being believed. Seeing is believing after all. As far as my mind was concerned, I was outside of my body, making love to myself. As I write these words, I still tremble at that reality. It has transformed my concept of what it is to be someone, to be me. I was Sophie and me at the same time. Not like in a dream, or drug induced state or even my most vivid imagined fantasy but as reality.

Rather than being reviled at the thought of making love to myself, I felt an enormous surge of love for myself and also for Sophie. I realised that Sophie had planned this intricately. Our actions were mirror like so that when I saw myself reach forward to touch, Sophie was actually doing that to me and I was doing the same for her. The illusion had full sensory support and was so powerful I couldn't break out of it. Not even for a second.

I was truely outside of myself and inhabiting Sophie's body, making passionate love to myself. My scent became her scent. Her lips became mine. I owned her cunt. She was my cunt. I felt an intimacy that I thought was impossible between two people. I felt total acceptance. The passion and pleasure was like the ultimate rush. I, feeling as if I was Sophie, started to orgasm as soon as my wet cunt and clit rubbed against what looked like my wet cunt. Hearing the moans from Sophie, being me, I could tell she was to. From there, I was in an almost constant state of orgasm or near orgasm until we collapsed exhausted into each other's arms at the end of our routine.

That night back on her couch, we recounted the experience over and over. It was amazing and overwhelming. The closeness I felt for Sophie from the illusion remained. I also felt that the barrier that separates us is just a conception of our minds - we are really connected to each other and everything. We don't end at the outer shell of our bodies. Part of me is in Sophie and part of me is Sophie, as it is with everyone and everything.

The End