Neither...

You squeezed your eyes shut, resolved to what would happen. The Man sighed and shook his head. "Very well," he said. Turning aside, the Man spoke to the mirrored wall on the other side of the room. "Bring him in...along with 30 CC's of the Pleastor Compound."
"Yes, sir. We've prepped him with our altered Tadalafil concentrate, which should keep him hard for at least 5 hours," responded a female assistant over the intercom.

"Flip her over," he commanded the line of men. You were again gazing at your shiny, shapely, buxom body and slimy face in the ceiling mirror when a guy was led through the far door by the female assistant. You were shocked by recognition of the face you had worn all your life before being transplanted into this body. "What the-! But, tha- that's...I thou-", you stammered.

"I'm sorry to say 'transplanted' wasn't exactly the correct term when you signed up, my pet," the Man answered, cutting you off. "You are a perfect copy of your own consciousness. A...mind clone, so to speak; and this is the original you," he explained, pointing at the guy now standing next to the bowl staring down at you.

"Wow...she's...I mean, I'm...amazing!" your male version said breathlessly, wide eyes drinking in your beauty. As the assistant began undressing him, and you eyed the body you had seen a million times before, you were struck by a strange, almost deja vu-like sensation. It was like you were looking at yourself in a mirror, but from a different perspective. He was down to those familiar dark blue-colored briefs you loved, and without seeing, you knew there was a tear at the back under the waistband. The bulge of your...well, his, erect dick pushing against the front of his underwear you had never seen from this angle, and it looked a lot bigger than you thought it was when it was attached to you.

While you tried to take this all in, with a practiced assurance, the Man inserted the syringe needle into your still engorged clit and injected half of the pinkish liquid. Then he pulled it out and injected the rest in the top inner wall of your vagina.

"What's that?" your male self asked curiously.
"What the hell WAS that?" you frantically yelled at the same time.

"That," he said, holding up the empty syringe, "was a compound I developed to increase sensitivity of nerve endings one thousand times the normal amount. I am studying whether pleasure can be used as ****, rather than pain. I posit that it is more effective than pain in eliciting the response of begging for the **** to stop, and is not physically damaging." You could already feel the prickling heat spreading around your clit and inside your pussy as the compound took effect. The Man leaned down and blew air gently on your clit, and it sent a jolt up your body, jerking you in your shackles involuntarily. You could swear that every air molecule was like a finger tickling every millimeter of your crotch. Each muscle twitch and trickle of pussy juice was now sending constant ripples of pleasure to your brain. You barely noticed the uncontrolled groan escaping your lips as the maddening itch of orgasm was slowly building on itself.

"Take her," he prompted your male version. "Don't stop until I instruct you to. I want her begging!"
The male-you climbed into the bowl between your quivering legs, his bulging member standing straight up. The small breeze of his movement and vibrations in the bowl magnified the already continuous buzzing between your legs. Pre-cum glistening on the tip, he positioned his cock before your wet hole and hesitated, gazing at your lustrous face, as you bit your lower lip in concentration.