A Perfect Fit

Steve evaporated on the way home, pressed aside by Stephanie and her feverish anticipation of seeing Vinicius. She felt the disappointment keenly when he was nowhere to be found as she came into the condo. She warmed up some leftovers from the night before, letting the smell, at least, keep the memories fresh.

Then she went upstairs, freshly disappointed that her Master was nowhere to be seen. She took off the tie and shirt and pants with relief, and selected a blouse and skirt. They wereso much more comfortable. Restless, she did make-work, cleaning the kitchen, watering the flowers, and so forth. She had just finished changing the sheets on the bed, reminiscing dreamily, when the stairs creaked.

She whirled to behold Vinicius appearing at the door. She just stood, beaming, as he came towards her, around the bed. He seized her, pressed his lips to hers hungrily, urgently. Instantly she was swept away in the current of his need, wrapping herself around him, wanting only as much contact as possible.

He eased his hold, slipping around behind her, then pulling her close, running his arms across her front. He played with her nipples (she wished she could call them breasts) briefly. She could feel his erection on her behind as she pressed into him. Skirts were wonderful, they didn't get in the way! Vinicius shortly demonstrated this, as he bent her forward onto the bed and lifted up her skirt from behind. She waited breathlessly, watching in the mirror as he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. Her panties were eased down, and then he slipped into her.

She stared again at herself being taken from behind, but it was so much better. She looked more like a woman in the dress, and having his cock in her pussy... he was indeed taking her, claiming her, and she loved it, would have it no other way.

...

The next day crawled slowly by. He daydreamed constantly about Vinicius now. There was almost no distinction between Steve and Stephanie anymore; it was like 'Steve' was just a name for when Stephanie was feeling contrary, striving toimagine herself as a man.

So at first he thought he was imagining things when he rounded the corner of a rack of computers in the server room and saw Vinicius standing there with his customary smirk. Stephanie couldn't be contrary in such a situation. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Oh, Vinicius, how did... you can't... if they catch you, they'll..."

"Have no fear,querida. We shall not be disturbed here for some time." She leaped forward into his embrace, kissing him deeply, pressing close. After a few moments, she came up for air, and he asked, "What shall we do with these moments?"

"I want you ride me, high and hard!" she whispered wickedly. She pulled back and went to work on her belt, her pants, as she kicked off her shoes. The slacks fell to expose black lace panties and thigh-high stockings. She yanked off the dark men's socks and, from the waist down, was the woman she knew herself to be.

Vinicius moved in, possessively, and slipped off her tie, undid her shirt. A few more moments and the brassiere was exposed, her nipples prominent even through the thicker material. He pushed her back, against the wall, and slipped a hand down the front of her panties as his lips voyaged across her face, her neck. She gasped softly as his strong digits probed her lips.

He undid the garters one-handed, and pulled down the panties as his other arm imprisoned her. Only later did she wonder at his skill, at the time she was too busy kissing and caressing him to even think. He lifted her up bodily and set her on a waist-high server of some kind. He had dropped his pants somehow and was inside her in moments, driving and thrusting and pounding... high and hard, just as she'd pleaded.

She bit his shoulder, muffling her shrieks, the pleasure driving her insane. Vinicius came, forcefully, groaning. A handful of thrusts, and he sighed, pulling out. He found her panties on the floor and used them to clean himself off as Stephanie sat there, panting, recollecting herself. He smiled as he set the undergarment down next to her, pulled up his pants, and walked away around the server rack, blowing her a kiss.

Once she'd caught her breath, she began dressing again as rapidly as possible. The panties were wet and sticky but she didn't care, it washis cum and she wanted it in her, on her. Just because it would upset 'Steve', she licked a little off her fingers. In a few minutes her disguise was in place again, and she'd cleaned off the server case well enough. Just in time, too, as the secure door opened and a pair of analysts came in. Stephanie waved casually and stepped out past them, barely able to contain her smirk.

...

Once again, all pretense of Steve had vanished by the time she had hurried home after work. She ate a simple meal, but was more patient, more peaceful than the night before. Vinicius would show, or not, at his pleasure. It was out of her hands, nor did she want it in her hands. Vinicius knew what he wanted, and she simply wanted to give whatever he asked for, when he needed it.

The same calm followed her to the couch as she watched some TV. She picked the cooking channel; perhaps she'd make another dinner for her Master soon.

As always, his arrival was unexpected and unheralded. He simply walked around the corner from the dining room and sat beside her. She didn't attack him, but merely leaned close, laying her head on his shoulder. His expression was thoughtful, pensive.

At a commercial break, he stirred. She sat back up, waiting. He definitely had something on his mind, but she couldn't see what it might be.

"Stephanie, I must ask..." he hesitated. "How do you feel?"

She cocked her head to the side, puzzled. "Happy that you're here."

"No, I..." He shook his head. "I mean to say, about all this. The... situation."

She gazed searchingly at Vinicius, trying to divine his intent, to understand what was behind the question. In some ways, it sounded like he was having second thoughts... But she could not read him at all. She had no idea what was going on behind those gorgeous eyes. Her emotions got in the way; objectivity with respect to Vinicius was impossible. In the end, she could do no more than answer honestly.

"Sometimes I'm scared. Or I guess you could say that 'Steve'was scared. But I, Stephanie..." She smiled. "I'm glad," she whispered.

"So, you feel no regret over losing Steve? Being so changed, remade, molded against your will?"

Suddenly she was almost shouting, putting her emotions into words. "I don't care! I wasdead inside, before. I never feltanything, I neverlet myself feel anything." She was crying a little, even through her smile. "Now I feel, now thingsmatter to me, now I'malive. You didn't kill Steve, he wasnever alive. You brought me to life!"

She buried her face in his chest then, and he held her, comforting her as she calmed down. Ages later, when she looked up, he had the same unreadable, brooding countenance. He stood, lifting her to her feet, and led her upstairs.

When they reached the bed, he slowly undressed her, taking his time with every item, every motion. Once he was done, he guided her onto her back on the bed. She started to get up, to help him as he undressed, but he indicated with his hand that she should be still. With equal deliberation, he disrobed.

He knelt on the bed and dipped his head, kissing her new lips. His mustache tickled like a feather, and his breath both cooled and warmed at the same time. Then his tongue probed, tasting her excitement. She moaned softly, gathering handfuls of comforter, struggling not to move. He was so good... somehow his tongue could probe inside her as his lip glided across her clit... he must be drowning, how wet she was...

There was no 'climax', really. The pleasure simply climbed, gradually, smoothly, and plateaued. Duration was impossible to estimate, it simply was, forever, and then he was carrying her down, gently, until she was at peace and he sat up.

She wanted to get up, to return his gift as best she could, but motion was impossible. Soon enough he was above her, entering her, caressing her - there was no other word for it - inside and out.

She had never made love before. Steve had fucked, at best. It was gentle and tender and at the end she was crying softly into her pillow, overcome. Vinicius held her and, for a time, nothing else could matter.

...

Friday, she woke up from a wonderful dream; she and Vinicius had been walking hand-in-hand by a river. Only that, but the feelings... the aura of uncomplicated love that had suffused the whole scene... there was no fight left in her. She knew that she was Stephanie, and Stephanie loved Vinicius, utterly and completely, whether or not he returned her love. Right or wrong, she would do anything he asked, simply because it was him asking.

Ironically, being Steve at work that day was easy. Now that she knew he was simply a part she was playing, not an identity she wanted to preserve, it was simplicity itself to put on a masculine front. She didn't feel intimidated anymore by her co-workers. None of the guys she worked with were a tenth of the man Vinicius was.

She gathered a huge amount of critical information about U.S. submarine operations in the Asian theater. It was the kind of intel the Chinese military would drool over. She stored it on a flash drive; the automatic activity scans would pick up the transfer and, by midnight, there would be questions for Steve Harper... but either way, Steve Harper wouldn't be coming back.

She still had some hope. Maybe Vinicius wouldn'treally give it over. He was doing this to hurtSteve, not to hurt America. And if Stephanie could prove that Steve was gone, vanquished... if she could show how deeply she loved Vinicius... if she could show the fierce devotion and passion she felt... maybe Vinicius would bend, would come to appreciate and value that love.

She slipped away from the facility without incident, and raced home. Vinicius was there, in the kitchen, sipping coffee. She loosened her tie, unbuttoned her shirt, and removed the flash drive from under her bra, which had struck her as the perfect place to hide it. Wordlessly, she held it out to him.

Vinicius took the device gravely, somberly. He looked at her, then back at the tiny block of plastic and metal and silicon. "Thank you, Stephanie," he said at length. "This could not have been easy for you." He seemed... depressed.

She wasn't sure what reaction she'd expected, but this wasn't it. "I... hoped it would make you happy," she said. "It's all you asked for. You defeated Steve completely, he's gone."

"Indeed. I, too, thought it would make me happy... before."

"What's wrong? Please, tell me, I..." but his fingers brushed her face, silencing her.

"Hush,mor." He said nothing else as he led her to the bed, as he undressed her, as he loved her if anything more tenderly than the last time.

And when it was over, he stood and dressed. As she stared from the bed, her disappointment obvious, he looked at her again, as if trying to memorize her. "I am sorry,querida mor. There is something I must do now." At her widened eyes, he looked away. "I have no choice. Less, even, than did you."

"Will you... come back?" Her voice broke, her soul on the ragged edge of despair.

"Yes,mor." But there was something in his eyes... He turned and walked out the door. She heard him on the stairs, she heard the front door close, as tears leaked onto the pillow.

...

Stephanie had cleaned herself and put on a dress. Whatever happened, from now on, she would never wear male clothing again. She sat in the living room, TV off, waiting. The smart thing would have been to run. Every second she waited was a risk that a team would arrive to 'contain' Steve. But Vinicius had said he would return, and she would wait for him forever if necessary.

It had been perhaps an hour when the front door opened and Vinicius stepped in. She leapt to her feet but halted upon seeing his face. He was still somber, almost grieving in his manner.

"It is done. I have relayed the information to my contact."

She had known, but she still felt a pang of... not regret, but... regret that it had been necessary. She had an entirely new perspective on what Steve had done. She could not say that Vinicius was not justified in his revenge. But now that itwas done...

"I understand," she said, putting forgiveness in her tone. "But now... I had hoped..." Tears again, unashamed. "I love you. I want to be with you. Even if you can't love me, I... I love you."

He looked at her, pain and regret in his eyes, his face, his whole posture. "But Ihave come to love you... or at least, what you have come to be. Their sense of humor was at my expense, also."

She was dizzy with joy to hear him declare his love, but his dark mood filled her with apprehension, too. "Please, we can run away, we can be together! With you I feel like I can do anything!"

"Ah, Stephanie,querida mor, if only that could be so. But there is a price yet to be paid for my vengeance."

Her eyes widened and she gasped in horror. Without knowing how, she was suddenly across the room, embracing him. "No, please, there must be a way..." She was weeping, holding him with a death grip.

"My life - my soul - is theirs now. They gave me the power, but now I must make the final payment."

"Please, no! Please!" she screamed. "Let them takeme instead!"

Vinicius looked so sad... "No,mor, in a sense they have already taken you. And further, theynever go back on their... agreements." He sighed. "I have all I wished for, bargained for. My revenge is complete. I have destroyed the man who wronged my niece... and it is ashes, for in so doing I have destroyed another girl, whom I also love."

"No... no..." Her whole body was shaking.

Gentle, but determined, he extracted himself from her grasp. He stepped back, holding her arms, looking her up and down. "I am truly sorry. Where I go, you cannot - must not - follow. I could wish for you to be happy... but the price of wishes is always too great."

Numbly she watched him walk out the door. He looked back one finaltime, then it gently latched shut.

She felt dizzy for a moment, but the sensation faded almost at once. As before, it took several seconds for the change to register, and it was just as blood-curdling the second time... but it was far easier to confirm. She hiked up her skirt and beheld the horrendous bulge at the front of her panties. She yanked them down and almost threw up to see a penis and scrotum dangling from her crotch. She could not have been more horrified and disgusted if she'd found a tentacle there.

She'd been a man trapped in a woman's body, and now she was a woman imprisoned in a man's body. That horrid alien dick was the only thing left of Steve; inside, in her heart, Stephanie was all that remained.

But no one would ever believe that. There was now no proof that anything supernatural had ever happened. Vinicius himself was gone; there were no pictures, no recordings, no proofs he'd ever been there. His notes - if they even existed anymore - would mean nothing, easily forged. And the most convincing evidence, her transformed body, was likewise gone. All that remained was Stephanie herself, inhabiting this alien, hateful body... but she could only ever be thought of as Steve's psychosis.

She hadnothing, now. Steve would soon be a wanted felon, a traitor - if her crime had notalready been detected - and Vinicius was beyond hope of rescue. She had only memories of their love, which could be nothing but a torture for its reminder of what would never, could never be. As the tears flowed, she knew that Julia must have cried the same way. Stephanie could see at last that her fate would be the same as Julia's. The only cover where they'dnever look for Steve would be as a gay prostitute... and soon she, too, would be taking drugs to dull her sorrow.

Without really knowing why she bothered, tears leaking down her cheeks, she began to pack a few clothes and other sundries for her new, and doubtless short, life as a fugitive.