“Relax, Owner,” Vicky cooed, as I struggled against her tight hold, “I'm trying to help you! It'll be easier if we're not working against each other."

“What do you mean, help!?” I yelped.

“You want to put me on, don't you?”

I froze, and she took that moment to grab my shoulders and force me to bend forward at the waist. Before I could stop her, she took her upper stomach just above the zipper, and pulled it over my head. My clear view of my bedroom was replaced by a struggling mess of dark browns, the scant light that could make it through the fur.

I tried to thrash my arms, to fight back, but somehow all I managed to do was push them into the suit's armholes. Within seconds, my fingers were matched with Vicky's. She giggled and pulled her front down, and then I could see through Vicky's eyes—just in time to see her hands, with my hands inside, grab the suit's mouth and push in.

I gagged as the mouth rig invaded between my lips, followed by the tongue coming in to surround my own tongue.

Vicky giggled again with innocent happiness, and said, “Now for the final touch!” She reached down, grabbed the zipper near my crotch, and pulled up.

I'd been right about one thing: it had been quick. In less than a minute, Vicky had trapped me inside her. With this, the force that had been moving my arms went away, and I sensed I had control of them again. I did the natural thing first and grabbed at the zipper, but—

Was it my panic? Maybe my larger, clumsier paws, or some device of Vicky's? Whatever the reason, every time I tried to grab the zipper's tab, I couldn't get ahold of it.

“No, no, let me out,” I said—and then stopped. My voice didn't sound like my voice at all. It sounded like... Vicky's. Higher-pitched, girlish and excited, but with an undeniably sensual undertone. “What?” I stammered. “How do I sound like—”

There was that girlish laugh again. It was right in my ear... or, for all I knew, right in my brain. “Of course you sound like me, Owner! You're wearing me right now! Aren't you excited?”

I sat up cautiously. “Oh,” she said, whispering now, letting the seductive undertone come through. “I can definitely feel your excitement down there.”

She was right: I was rock hard, and if not for the padding it would have shown through the suit and ruined Vicky's feminine front. That didn't mean I was agreeing to this. “How did you do that?” I asked cautiously. “Who are you?”

“Well, that's kind of a good question!” she replied, in the same voice I now had: it was like I was talking to myself. “I'd say I'm Vicky, but you're Vicky now, and we can't both be Vicky, right? So how about you think of me as... the voice in your head. Vee, for short! I'm here to help you make the most of this experience! Why don't you start by getting a look at yourself?”

My legs twitched. Numbly, I walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror at what... or, perhaps, who I'd become.

Vicky was just as thick and curvaceous as she'd been last night, in what I'd thought was a dream. But with a first person perspective, and not third person, everything was different. I placed my hand on the mirror, and watched as Vicky did the same. When I laid my other hand on my hip, she mimicked me. When I opened my mouth in astonishment, so did she.

That was me. I was Vicky.

“Do you like what you see?” said Vicky—er, said Vee, into my ear. Or my head. I didn't want to think about it. For what it was worth, the suit's mouth didn't move when she was speaking this time; it only moved with my words.

“I guess so,” I said, and turned myself around to see my new back, and shake my tail. I really had done a good job with the costume last night: Vicky's fur was sheek and shiny.

“I'm glad! But I know how you can like it even more.” Her voice dropped to a purr that made me tremble. “Want me to show you a couple of poses?”

I nodded, and then my head stopped moving as Vee took over. She leaned me forward, hands clasped down by my waist as my upper arms pressed my breasts together, in the same poise Vicky had greeted me with the previous night. “Whoa,” I said—I still had control over the fursuit's mouth, and I was grateful as Vee changed poses a couple times. Each new stance was clearly designed to display my new assets to their best advantage. Maybe I was okay with this now.
“How are you doing this?” I asked, as she left me in a T&A pose that could be on a movie poster, with me looking over my shoulder into the mirror. I tried to shake my head, to move my arms and legs, and they didn't even budge. It wasn't so frightening anymore, even if it was incredibly bizarre.

“Why don't you try it, Owner?” she said.

Her control eased off, and I stood up straight again. Then I tried leaning forward in that pose from before, the one that pressed Vicky's boobs together. As I did so, I felt my movements being surreptitiously adjusted: I leaned forward a bit further than I would have on my own, and squeezed my arms closer to each other. “What are you doing?”

“Just helping you use me like we both deserve.” Vee giggled. “Keep going!”

I mimicked each one of the poses she had done, getting better with each one, and when I was finished I didn't notice her adjustments. “Well done, Owner!” she said, and took over my arms to hug myself in a fit of enthusiasm.

Something else I didn't notice at first, and almost didn't notice I didn't notice, was that the fursuit's weight didn't seem to exist now. I'd thought that anyone trying to wear this would get worn out in ten minutes, tops, but as I moved Vicky's arms—as I moved my arms—I felt no more resistance than if I were naked.

“Thanks for the praise,” I said, “but... how do you work?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like... are you a robot, or magic, or what?” Vicky's face reflected some of my own confusion in its upturned look.

“I....” Vee hesitated. “I don't know how to answer that. I was just... made one day, and I knew what I was supposed to do. Sorry I can't help more, Owner.”

“That's not enough of an answer!” I scratched my head. “Then why aren't you like other costumes?”

“Hm. Maybe I am!” She laughed. “Maybe all costumes are like me, and no one ever admits it because people would think they're crazy.”

Crazy. Once again, the craziness of what was happening hit me like a baseball bat to the face. I was talking to a fursuit, and the fursuit was talking back, like some sort of badly written fetish story.

It was too much. “Thanks again,” I said, easing my hands down, trying once again to grab my zipper. “Vee, uh... not to be rude, but can I get out now? I've got this convention in, like, an hour, and my costume's not ready, and—”

“Oh, I think your costume's quite ready,” Vee whispered. “You spent so much time on me yesterday, after all.”

“No, I don't mean—”

My mouth froze up, then closed without my input. “And now,” Vee continued, “I just need to spend a little time on you, to help get you ready.”

She released my mouth again, and I burst out, “I'm not crossdressing to the con!”

Vee was quiet for a few seconds after that. I sighed, and sat down on the toilet seat. “Why not?” she finally asked, in a meeker voice than before: she sounded hurt. “Don't you want to wear me?”

“Maybe, a little? But that's not the problem.” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees and head in my hands. “I.... This is a lot to take in, okay? I don't feel comfortable trying this in public. Where someone might see.”

And now I was arguing with a costume.

“Who would see?” she said.

“Well, you know....”

“I'm just a costume—I don't know at all! Who would see?”

I blinked, and heard the slight sound of shutters: the costume had to be blinking along with me. It was a good question.

“John,” she said, “no one would see you. How could they, when you're inside me? All they'd see is Vicky. You don't need to be embarrassed about it.”

I sat still, pondering this.

“I... I understand if you still don't want to go through with this.” My arms crossed in front of my body, hugging myself for a moment. “I'll let you take me off,” she said, finally placing my hand on the zipper tab. “If that's what you really want, it's okay, but please, just think about it.”

I pulled down on the tab, just an inch, and heard her sigh. I looked down at my bare skin on the inside, then glanced at my closet. Where my cosplay was waiting.

My cheap cosplay where everyone would recognize me.

Oh, what the hell. Things couldn't get crazier.

“No.”

I stood up and looked myself in the eye, in the mirror. “I'll do it.” With a feeling of finality, I pulled the zipper tab back up.

Vee didn't speak after that for a few seconds, but I felt my body trembling, and the tremors weren't from me. “Vee?” I asked.

Abruptly, I jumped for joy—which was to say, Vee did using my body. “Yes! Thank you, thank you so much, you're gonna have so much fun! Oh, we have so much work to do!”

“What work?”

“Getting you ready! Like the posing practice!” She laughed. “You didn't think you were gonna walk out of here and just be John, did you, Owner?”

–

It was forty minutes later, and I was panting. Vee had put me through the wringer.

First had been heel training. The heels I'd salvaged along with the fursuit weren't very high, but when I put them on I nearly tumbled within seconds, and I would have if Vee hadn't taken control and stopped me. She'd walked confidently around my apartment, her hips swaying with each step, and then directed me to do the same. Bit by bit she'd ceded control to me, taking it back to stop me from falling if necessary, and within ten minutes I could stand, and walk, and even run and jump in these heels.

With that foundation, Vee had taught me more. How to move like Vicky, how to talk like Vicky, how to emote with Vicky's limited range of expression, and do it more expressively than most human faces. How to flirt like Vicky, too. She was a lot more outgoing than I was, so this might have been the hardest part, but I eventually got it.

And now I stood at one end of my apartment, wearing the full outfit. A dress above, with a hole for my tail, and panties underneath, which might just be scandalously revealed with a mistaken swish of my skirt. Not that I'd be making any such mistakes... not unless they were on purpose. Of course, my zipper would stay hidden the whole time, no matter what happened.

I had my handbag slung fashionably over my shoulder, where it could hold my phone and wallet, and I stood confidently on heels. One hand rested sassily on my hip, a pose which had become my default.
“Go forward,” Vee whispered, and I sashayed to the other end of the room. “Stop.” I did. “Introduce yourself. Flirt.”

I leaned forward, reaching out to cup an imaginary chin. “Hey there, beautiful,” I said in Vicky's most sensual tones, “I'm Vicky. Pleasure to meet you.” I winked.

“And cut! Congratulations, Owner—John has left the building. It's just Vicky here now!”

I felt the suit wriggle against me, and I wriggled back in acknowledgment. Vee was right: if I took video of myself now, traveled back in time, and showed it to myself twenty-four hours ago, the past me would never believe he was the one in that suit. And if I didn't believe it, neither would anyone else. The prospect of going out in this wasn't frightening anymore, for who could possibly recognize me now?

“Talk privately. When do you have to leave?” Vee asked.

“In ten minutes,” I whispered back, barely moving the costume's lips: she'd also had me practice talking like this, so we could converse in public with no one noticing.

“Awesome, then that means....”

Her tone of voice was changing, and I knew what that meant. “You have time for some fun,” she whispered.

For the first time in several minutes, Vee took over again. I'd been well-trained, and so I didn't resist as my body walked into my bedroom, then threw myself onto my bed. “I'm not going to take control during the convention,” she murmured, “not unless you really need it—but I want to give you an idea, Owner, of just what you can do now.”

“Okay,” I said uncertainly, as she kicked off my heels and slipped off my panties. My skirt was lifted and my neckline pulled down, exposing my breasts and vagina.

I caught myself—was I really thinking of them as my breasts and my vagina? But I was Vicky now, after all. John was taking a break.

With my left arm Vee grabbed both my breasts, and she placed my right hand by my vagina. Then I felt her strength slacken, and she said, “Just do what comes naturally, Owner.”

There was that word again. Somehow the relationship between us didn't feel as simple as me owning her: at best, we owned each other, and more likely she owned me. Hadn't she turned me into Vicky, in under an hour? So I hesitated, and asked, “Do you really want me to do this?”

“I want you to do whatever you want to do, Owner! I belong to you. I love you,” she purred. “If you want to get dressed again and leave early, or if you want to spend all day loving yourself in here, I'll be fine with either one. This is just a suggestion.”

I waited a few seconds more, and then I slowly inserted a finger inside myself. I gasped: somehow I was feeling the finger as if I were stroking myself directly. “How does this work—” I started to say, but didn't bother finishing. Vee probably didn't know, and it didn't matter.

I went slowly at first, rubbing my breasts with one hand and penetrating myself with the other, going a little deeper each time. Before too long, I had two fingers in there, then three, and then four, and I felt as if I was penetrating the human flesh inside, as well. Or, more accurately, I felt like there was no distinction, and this was my body.

“Want me to speed things up?” Vee whispered. “Because I've got a special feature you'll really like.”

“Yeah,” I grunted.

“All right, Brace yourself.”

I let out a yelp of surprise, as my fingers on both hands began glowing, and then vibrating. The spike of pleasure was immediate and almost too much to handle.

“Feels... good, doesn't it... Vicky?” Vee said between shaky breaths.

I didn't even try to say anything back, nor did I bother to keep moving: I just grabbed my breasts, stuck my other hand in my vagina, and held on for dear life. Vee and I were both squirming, twitching so much it was as if my whole body had become a vibrator.

“I could keep you here, Vicky,” she panted, as I thrashed around on my bed, unable to move either of my hands. Not sure if that was her fault, or mine. “I could keep you stuck like this all day, until you passed out from bliss. Is that what you want, Vicky?”

“I, I, I.... I....” I couldn't get a sentence out. I wanted to tell her that yes, that sounded amazing—but all I could do was ride it out.

My hips bucked, over and over, as I finally reached release. Vee let out a high-pitched moan into my ears at the same time. We lay together, limp, as my fingers finally turned off, and my hand slid out of myself.

“That was amazing,” I finally said. I took long, deep breaths, not moving for about half a minute.

“I love it when you say things like that, Owner,” Vee said into my ear. She sounded a lot more composed than I did.

“I love it when you do things like that, Vee.” I stood up, finally getting a hold of myself. I briefly felt around inside myself, to confirm that no wetness had come out—but I didn't check for too long, or I'd never get going. “Is there anything else you can do?”

“I'm glad you asked!” Vee hummed into my head. “I can make you stronger and faster than you usually would be. I can take over walking and talking for you, if you get tired. If you're into that sort of thing, I can hold you in bondage without rope or handcuffs, and stop you from talking without a gag. I can make your body completely rigid, or completely limp like a ragdoll.I can even sing for you! The better question, Owner, is what can't I do?”

“That all sounds... incredible, but I meant more like....” I lifted my middle and index finger. On cue, they glowed and vibrated again. “Is there anywhere else on this body that does that?”

“Oh, I see! Hm... there are a couple places... just where you'd expect....”

My finger stopped glowing, but my crotch and breasts lit up—just as I was getting dressed, too. I squirmed, but kept dressing myself: this wasn't nearly as intense as the fingers had been, and made things pleasurable without being unbearable. With my dress and panties on, the glow wasn't visible from the outside, and the low hum wasn't audible. “How long can you keep that up?” I said, rubbing my thighs discreetly together.

“How long can you take it?” There was a note of challenge in Vee's voice, and I imagined a smirk. It was a challenge I was eager to meet.

“No more time to waste,” I said. I grabbed my things, threw them in the handbag, and put on my heels. I marched out of my apartment, only stopping to lock my door, and walked downstairs with a confident, sexy step. A step that didn't betray what I was feeling in my most sensitive areas.

After all, I'd been trained well.

“Vee,” I asked, as I stepped into my car. “Can you sing something for me?”

“I can sing any song I know! What song would you like?”

“Choose something that feels right.”

Sitting down, and wearing a seatbelt, made the sensations in my skin more intense as both my breasts and rear were compressed. I squirmed in my seat, letting out a moan of pleasure, as I pulled out of my spot and onto the road.

“I,” Vee sang, like a tune inside my head, “I love the colorful clothes she wears / and the way the sunlight plays across her hair....”

Her voice was beautiful.