A Perfect Fit

Finally he glanced at the clock and was stunned to discover that it had been less than fifteen minutes since he'd opened the note. It had felt like hours. He gave up in despair; there was no chance he would get anything done today. It was only Tuesday morning anyway... He shut down his computer and went into Edwards office. He was in the middle of a conversation with another analyst; Steve was glad, it would give him an excuse to make his excuses brief.

"Hey, I'm really not feeling right. I was hoping I'd be better after some coffee but I think I need to go home. Eric can handle the Thailand briefing and the Kazakhstan report isn't due until Thursday..."

His boss thought a moment, then replied, "Okay, but let me know if you'll be out tomorrow." Steve thought the odds were about even that he was suspicious, given the behavior changes lately, but he was too excited to be overly worried. He had enough sense to act a bit sick until he was in his car and on the road, of course.

Then he brightened considerably. Vinicius was coming for a date! They wouldn't be going out, but still... dinner! Of course! And Steve had been to Brazil, he could make a few dishes... He went straight to a grocery store and began shopping for the ingredients he would need. He passed by the magazine aisle, though, and was arrested by the cover of a bridal magazine. His dream from the night before came back with full force. And then she noticed another women's magazine, promising "Makeup Tips ForYour Face!" Impulsively she grabbed a copy, plans already coming together in her mind.

Nearby was a specialty liquor store where she picked up another critical element. By then the day ahead had crystallized for her, and the logical next step was the mall. She chose one a good distance from both work and home, begrudging the extra driving time but recognizing the need for some semblance of security.

She found a few necessary sundries but then moved to the larger department stores, heading unerringly for the women's department. Just before she stepped up to a display counter, however, she had a sudden moment of clarity. She realized that she was thinking of herself as a girl, that 'Stephanie' had taken over. He tried to gain some control over himself... and then she decided she was being silly. She wasn't ahe - she had apussy, for goodness sake! That was thedefinition of female!

She confidently approached the girl at the makeup counter. It was the knowledge that she reallywas a girl too that let her ignore the amusement or disgust of the saleswomen that helped her. Besides, she simply couldn'tbear the thought of disappointing Vinicius. She kept shopping until she had appropriate makeup, three complete outfits, and nearly a dozen varying sets of lingerie.

She rushed home; time was short. In, and then she dove into a frantic cleaning of the condo. It was almost 3:00 when she reluctantly concluded that things were as clean as they'd get. She rushed through a shower and another shave (she'd bought some hair remover for general use, spending razor time only on important areas), then began making dinner. Some parts of the meal would take a few hours to cook.

At six she left some pots simmering and went up to her bedroom. She had the magazine to refer to (Stephanie was a fast reader) and some tips from the salesgirls, but makeup was clearly a skill she'd need to practice. She stared wistfully at her eyebrows, wishing she could safely pluck them. Mascara, at least, lived up to her hopes, and some subtle eyeshadow and tasteful lipstick softened the hard lines of her face. Press-on nails made her hands look much more feminine. She hadn't had time to pick up a good wig; the ones at the mall looked too fake. All this took as long as she'd feared, though, and she had to race into her outfit and dash madly about the house for the last-minute touches.

She sat down at 7:28; there was more she could have done, but it would have to do. She didn't want to be flushed and out of breath when Vinicius arrived. Plenty of time for that later, she thought wickedly to herself. The doorbell rang at precisely 7:30 - he was perfectly punctual, as she'd known he would be.

She opened the door with a genuine smile and warm eyes, heedless of who else might be about. Vinicius stood on the small porch, impeccably clad and well-groomed as always. He too wore a smile at first, but it froze on his face as he fully absorbed Stephanie's appearance. "Won't you please come in?" she asked invitingly. She was suddenly terrified that he didn't like the changes she'd made in her look. She'd pinned her hopes on his remark about 'pleasant surprises' - if this was who she was now, and he'd chosen the form of the 'curse', why would she disappoint? But he looked so bemused... "I've so been looking forward to tonight."

"Clearly, you have indeed," Vinicius noted dryly as he entered. He glanced about, apparently recognizing the cleaning that had been done. As she closed the door, he paused, sniffing the air. "Is that... no, how could you..."

"I hope you haven't eaten. I made somecaldeirada for us." Steve had developed a taste for the traditional seafood stew when he'd been living in Brazil. She led him into the dining room. The table was set for an intimate dinner for two; candles lent a touch of ambiance and fresh flowers in a vase made an attractive centerpiece. Vinicius studied the room for a moment, and then gazed searchingly at Stephanie.

"Please, sit down," she stammered. "I'll be right back with dinner." As Vinicius took the seat she'd indicated, she fled to the kitchen and began pouring pots into serving dishes. She was near tears; he wasn't responding at all the way she'd hoped. She suddenly felt huge and clumsy and ugly, a brute trying to pretend to be a lady. She almost dropped the toasted bread as she removed it from the oven and she had to stop for a second and collect herself. If this wasn't what Vinicius wanted, then she would simply have to find out what hedid want, and give him that. For now, there was nothing to do but press onward.

As she came into the dining room bearing the dishes on a tray, she called out "Dinner is served!" with false cheer, hoping her eyes weren't turning red. She set the tray down - perhaps a bit too forcefully - and took up a piece of bread, reaching for Vinicius' bowl. "Here, let me help you..." But he put up his hand, motioning for silence. Her heart climbed into her throat.

His tone was gentle, however. "Excuse me, I must beg your forgiveness. I fear I did not behave as a gentleman should upon my arrival." Stephanie started to protest, but he waved her down. "No, no, I was quite unprepared for such a vision as yourself, and I failed to express how lovely you look tonight." She froze, not sure she'd really heard him correctly. "And I must say, this smells delicious as well. I did not intend to put you to such trouble, Steve."

"It was my pleasure. And please... call me Stephanie." She looked shyly down at the table, knowing he would think she was being silly.

There was a barely-perceptible pause, and then he replied fluidly. "Stephanie, of course. I beg your pardon." She looked up to see him shake his head ruefully. "Those I dealt with certainly do enjoy their little jokes." He must have seen some hint of alarm on her face, as he hastened to add, "Please don't think I am in any way disappointed. No, my chagrin stems from such a surfeit of my wishes being fulfilled at once."

She found she could breathe again, but not speak. Once more Vinicius must have picked up on her situation - was she truly so easy to read? - as he smoothly placed some bread in his bowl and brought it forward, saying charmingly, "I really must sample this. If I may?" She served him and poured some into her bowl as well, then fetched some wine. She'd never been much of a wine drinker, but the web had claimed that red would go well with the meal and she'd purchased an expensive bottle. Vinicius seemed not displeased.

For a while there was only the sound of clinking silverware and slurping. She hadn't seen him eat before, but he went about his meal with all the elegance and sophistication she'd come to expect. His manners were impeccable; he might as well have been dining with a queen. She almost felt shamed at her own lack of grace, and yet he took such pains to put her at ease. When she spilled some soup on the table, his grin was mischievous and conspiratorial, not condescending. He finally commented on the dinner. "If anything, it tastes even better than it smells," Vinicius smiled. "My own mother could not have made a finercaldeirada." Stephanie was briefly speechless, cheeks flushing; she looked away shyly. But the conversation quickly became lively though they discussed nothing of import - mostly their favorite foods, stories of memorable meals. Vinicius seemed to be honestly, and not maliciously, enjoying himself.

As the meal drew to a close, she brought out her next surprise - caipirinhas, a cocktail made with the local Brazilian liquor, cachaça. "Perhaps a bit too sweet," Vinicius commented, "but considering who prepared them, I should not be surprised." She blinked when she recognized the compliment. For the first time that evening, she didn't feel at all silly and self-conscious. She felt like a girl on a date with a man she truly wanted to impress... who was succeeding.

Vinicius overrode her protests and helped clear the table when they were finished. It felt so...domestic that she fantasized for a moment that they were living together, husband and wife, that they did this every night.

They moved to the living room (shades sensibly drawn) and talked for a time, digesting their meal. Stephanie didn't want to bring up work or politics, but Vinicius, charming and pleasant as ever, led them into a fascinating discussion of music and art; she learned a great deal but somehow it never felt like a lecture, or that he was condescending to her.

As the fullness in her stomach faded, the need in her loins grew; it was not merely the drink that made her blush. The conversation grew harder to follow as she paid less and less attention to Vinicius' words, and more and more to his lips, his hands, his body.

Finally, impulsively, she simply leaned forward and kissed him. His eyes widened sightly as his words were muffled, but her kiss was promptly returned with aplomb.

"Forgive my pedantry; I do tend to warm to my subject," Vinicius quipped as they paused for breath. His eyes danced and his mouth crooked with humor.

"No, Master, your subject has warmed toyou." She wriggled forward, wrapping herself around him greedily. "Let meshow you how warm." Stephanie stroked his face and body as she resumed kissing him. For his part, Vinicius' hands explored her body in return, stoking her fires even higher.

At length, Vinicius broke away again, stating, "If we are to go much further, I think we should retire upstairs. I would prefer a trifle more room to stretch out." A nod indicated the couch they sat on.

"Whatever my Master commands," Stephanie slyly declared.

"Sothat is how it is to be?" He pushed her to her feet and stood himself. One hand turned her around, and the other swatted her behind to get her moving toward the the stairs. She yelped gleefully and dashed upstairs, Vinicius in leisurely pursuit.

She had arrayed herself on the bed with arch casualness as Vinicius entered the room. "Whatever shall we do now?" she asked.

Vinicius' smile made her heart soar. "I think you should show me the full particulars of that outfit you wear."

"Don't you like it?" She stood and twirled. "I saw it and just fell in love with it. The fit isn't perfect," she continued as she turned and beckoned for Vinicius to unzip her, "but, well..."

She felt a delicious thrill as his hands opened the back of her dress. She stepped forward, turning to face him as she worked the cloth down her body. The lacy brassiere wasn't necessary - she wished she had real boobs - but made her feel much more feminine. Equally embroidered, girlish panties and garters and stockings were exposed next. The shoes weren't a good match for the rest but findingany high heels that would fit feet the size of hers, in a short timeframe, had been a formidable challenge.

"White... how appropriate." Vinicius' appraising eyes moved up and down her body. Then he moved himself, coming forward. She soon discovered what countless girls before her had learned - taking off frilly underthings could be even more fun than putting them on, if you had the right kind of help.

He left her nude save for her stockings. She was breathing quickly, pulse elevated, thoroughly wet. Deliriously turned on. It wasn't exactly ordered, but Vinicius made no objection as she began to reverentially disrobe him. He was ramrod straight, at full mast when she gently eased the waistband of his boxers over the tip and slid them down and away.

Kneeling there, teasing her lips and tongue all over his prick and balls, everything was right with the world.

He came close, she could sense how close he was, but he reached down and pulled her away. Unlike the first blowjob two weeks ago, though, this was done gently. He guided her to her feet and then to the bed. It was as if she floated down onto her back. Vinicius lay beside her and kissed her deeply.

He played her expertly; his capable hands roamed Stephanie's responsive flesh possessively, coaxing unprecedented levels of frenzied excitement in the transformed agent. She could feel the erection rubbing against her belly like a promise. When Vinicius rolled her onto her back and positioned himself between her legs, she cooperated with suppliant enthusiasm.

Vinicius spent a minute or two suckling and nibbling at her chest, driving her to distraction. Eventually, however, he reared back and adjusted his hips in an unmistakable manner. By now, Stephanie felt no fear or reluctance at all - quite the opposite, in fact. There was a moment, a tiny slice of time, when Steve appeared... but even he found that he couldn't muster up sincere opposition. He receded, dissolved, and there was only Stephanie.

Vinicius looked at her, one eyebrow and the corners of his mouth raised. The question was obvious, and she replied with a nod and an inviting wriggle. But Vinicius did not proceed. Stephanie moaned, desperate. It was there, at her entrance; she could feel the stiff prick hovering, taunting. She groaned, "Please, oh please, I need it, please..."

It moved forward; there was a stretching, a tearing. Pain, colored with the realization that she had given up her virginity. It was true that Steve had done so long ago, years ago when he'd been a teenager, but that seemed remote and unimportant. It had happened to someone else, only what was happening now was real. Deeper and deeper it plunged - impudent, arrogant, overwhelming. Their hips met, it was fully enveloped, and she was overjoyed. Then it pulled back, and shot forward again...

It was filling her up, it felt huge, like her whole body was molding around it, being shaped by it into a perfect receptacle, her whole being felt lit from within, Vinicius was inside her body and soul, and she could do nothing, could want nothing but to yield and accept... there was pain still, but it was necessary, worth it for the pleasure, for the joy...

It was debatable if there were actually separate orgasms or if it was one long climax with several peaks. Either way it was phenomenal and ecstatic. When she felt Vinicius come inside her pussy, she experienced it like a worshiper infused with the divine. She was breathless and blissful when Vinicius finally withdrew.

They lay together for a time, neither speaking. Then Stephanie shyly kissed her Master, who did not pull away. She felt relaxed and happy. It crossed her mind that the situation ought to feel weird, but the thought was of no interest to her and she banished it disdainfully. Nothing could be more proper and right than responding to Vinicius' handsome good looks and charming style. She gently made out with the man who had so thoroughly conquered her, enjoying every instant. Finally she couldn't keep her feelings inside anymore.

She broke off their kiss but continued to stroke Vinicius' back. "That wasawesome." She was gushing like a teenager, but she meant it in the richest sense of the word. "Thank you." Her eyes were starting to mist up. She'd never cried from happiness before.

Vinicius gazed at her impassively for a moment, then smiled. "Your gratitude is noted." It could have sounded mean, but the delivery was amused, playful. She actually giggled, which made Vinicius smile more.

"I must admit, evenI found it... unique," he mused.

She laid her head on his shoulder. "We'll have to fix that, as soon as you're ready."

"I beg your pardon?"

"If we do it again, it can't be unique anymore, right?"

...

It was a slow awakening from the deepest, most restful slumber since the fateful evening weeks ago. It wasn't clear if last night had been a dream, until he found the mess between his legs; blood and semen intermixed, clear evidence that he'd been deflowered. He knew it should have bothered him more, but he simply could not regard it as anything but heartwarming.

He recognized that last night had been a tipping point. Before, it had been Stephanie being gradually imposed onto Steve. But letting Vinicius take him - her - them? - last night had altered something central, essential. He could feel the difference; Steve was now more the intruder onto Stephanie's turf.

He went through his morning in what was now the typical depressed fog, until he suddenly was frozen by a new thought. Could he get pregnant? (Absently he noted that the idea of bearing Vinicius' child was daunting, but not immediately abhorrent.) The changes had been so thorough in other respects; he could not come up with a good reason why he'd be infertile. He hadn't even considered any kind of birth control... and he knew he wouldn't have worried about it last night, even if ithad occurred to him. He suddenly had a great deal more sympathy for teenage mothers.

A frantic session on the web gave him nothing to go on. There was no way to tell if he was fertile or not without submitting to a medical exam, which was obviously out of the question. It would be at least a few days before any pregnancy test could work... but even then, were the hormones in his system anywhere close to normal?

A pitched battle was fought as he got dressed. Steve couldn't pretend that his survival wasn't at stake now, and he pressed at Stephanie with all his considerable will. It should have been no contest - he had been a vicious and unfeeling killer, she was a girl, and a submissive one at that. But Stephanie was in love, and knewexactly what she wanted.

Blushing, humiliated, Steve pulled on some stockings.

...

Work was hell. He hid out in his office, pretending to be recovering from his 'illness'. He labored mightily just to get the minimum done, terrified that he'd miss some obvious connection in the data he analyzed, make some mistake that would reveal how compromised he was. Discovery couldn't be more than days away, even so.

Stephanie was utterly besotted. She was always there now in the back of Steve's mind no matter what he was doing, loving Vinicius, coloring his own thoughts and moods. She hoped that she and Vinicius might run away together, that she might convince him to abandon his plan of revenge and accept her as a lover, or slave, or whatever she could be to him.

In his more self-possessed moments, he understood how foolish those ideas were. Intellectually it was clear that the spell itself made him want to believe that there was hope... but his intellect no longer had any control over his emotions, and they made it impossible to believe that Vinicius felt nothing for him.