SCARLET by Jessica Drew Part 9 Sam finds Rivers' behavior increasingly trying, as they get ready to investigate the mansion in the hope of finding Antoinette. * * * * * * * * * *

Sam sat upright in the bed, the covers in a tangle beneath him. He gasped, struggling to catch his breath, his surroundings slowly coming into focus. The large bedroom of the Hotel de Russie’s luxury suite was now dimly lit by the morning sunlight that filtered in through the crack in the curtains.

He reached up, sweeping a hand along the length of his blonde ponytail, feeling confused. He could hear a rapid, dull pounding and began to look around for the source of the noise, suddenly realising that it was his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. Had he been dreaming? He brought a hand to his chest.

More like a nightmare...

Sam swept the covers away and swung his legs off of the bed. He sat upright, his toes brushing against the plush carpet beneath him. His breasts heaved beneath his pajama top and seemed to ache. He rubbed a hand across them, his nipples stiff and sore as they rubbed against the inside of his t-shirt. He gripped his head in his hands, his eyes closing as he struggled in vain to recall what he had been dreaming about.

Sam noticed that his whole body seemed to be tingling. He held his feminine hands out in front of him, watching as his slender fingers quivered. He pushed himself up from the bed and yawned, stretching his arms up above his head. Even his legs felt unsteady, trembling like they were made of jello.

Looking over, Sam noticed that Rivers was still asleep in the separate sofa bed, his body turned away from him, his shoulders gently rising and falling with his breathing.

Sam tip-toed quietly out of the room, carefully walking along the short corridor towards the bathroom, trailing one hand against the wall for support. His bare legs brushed together, a tingling warmth stirring between his thighs.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam let the hot shower sooth his body, the high pressure of the water massaging into his soft skin. He poured a generous helping of strawberry scented body wash into his hand and began to slide his hands over his body; first his shoulders, then his arms, before working the sweet smelling suds into his heavy breasts.

Sam sighed. His breasts still felt unusually sensitive and his nipples soon hardened to his touch. His hands slid down, rubbing the body wash over his tummy, then his hips, his backside, finally down to wash his mound, the flat of his palm disappearing down between his legs.

Sam gasped, quickly pulling his hand back as if he had just touched a live wire.

Just what was going on with his body this morning?

Sam paused, looking down suspiciously at his feminine body. He was still unused to the many different sensations that his body could produce and did not know if it was normal to feel like this, or whether something was wrong. Perhaps it was just the last of the alcohol from yesterday, working its way through his system.

Yes, that was probably it.

Sam leant over, his soapy hands running over his upper thighs, his heavy breasts swaying beneath him. He could feel the prickle of his legs from where he had not yet shaved.

Sam could still hear Maria Ramirez’s stern words to him, chastising him for his lack of effort with his feminine appearance. Even though she was gone, her voice still seemed to echo in his head, sending a panicked shiver down his spine. He was left with the realisation that as long as he was in Antoinette’s female body, he would need to present himself as a woman as best he could. Anything less than his best effort ran the risk of drawing unwanted attention and suspicion.

Sam raised his left foot up onto a low shelf set into the walk-through shower, his thigh now raised so that it ran perpendicular to his body. He swapped the bottle of body wash for shaving cream and poured it into his hands, rubbing it between his palms before sliding his hands over his long left leg. He took the fresh disposable razor that he had found in the honeymoon hamper and began to carefully remove the cream in long, even strokes.

Sam swapped legs, lathering his shapely right thigh, working the shaving cream down into his calf, before expertly removing all trace of hair with the razor.

He ran his slender hands over his freshly shaved legs. They felt soft and silky smooth, causing a tingling sensation to play throughout his body once more.

Sam’s hands drifted upwards, his fingers briefly grazing against the faint stubble of his mound. He had found that it had begun to itch down there and figured that, since he didn’t plan on occupying Antoinette’s body long enough to let it grow back out, he should probably continue to keep it shaved as well.

Sam took another handful of cream and rubbed it into his mound, gasping a little, his nipples hardening once more on his chest. He carefully began to remove the cream from around his vagina being extra careful as he shaved either side of his labia. Sam pulled the shower head from its cradle, aiming it between his legs to wash away the last of the cream.

Sam’s feminine voice gasped at the sudden pressure of the water between his legs. He quickly aimed the hot water away, shocked at his sensitivity. He hesitantly brought the shower head back, being more careful this time, but had to bite his lip and was soon forced to turn the water off altogether.

Sam sighed, his chest rising and falling as the final droplets of water dripped from his body to join the wet floor of the shower.

Just what was that? It was like he had the girl equivalent of morning wood. It was the only way he could think to describe how he was feeling down there. Sam looked down at his body, sweeping his wet blonde hair off of his breasts, noticing how thick and swollen his nipples were. A brief, probing index finger against his left nipple soon told him everything he needed to know.

He hadn’t felt this way since…

The yacht.

Sam could remember all too well how Maria Ramirez had expertly aroused him back on the “Oro del Diablo”. Her touch had been electric, exciting and intoxicating. She had known just how to tease his unfamiliar female body, and yet at the same time Sam had felt deeply ashamed of taking pleasure from Antoinette’s body. When Carlos Ramirez had finally stepped in and taken his own pleasure of Sam, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d got what he’d deserved for abusing Antoinette’s body.

The very thought of Carlos Ramirez pierced Sam’s consciousness like ice water. All trace of body warmth seemed to leave his body in an instant, his nipples softening once more as his smooth flesh prickled with goose bumps.

Sam closed his eyes and breathed in, reaching for the shower dial, bringing the temperature right down into the blue. He opened his eyes and switched the water on, letting the cold water shock him back into the present.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam stood in front of the bathroom mirror as he gently patted the plush bathroom towel over his naked body. He stared deep into the blue eyes of his feminine reflection, stopping to take in the sight of his young, heart shaped face. His full lips were slightly parted and his wet blonde hair hung limp over his shoulders and back. His gaze drifted over his pert rounded breasts and his large pink nipples, then down to his flat stomach. Sam turned to one side, his fingers drifting around the outline of the bruise that had marked his side. It had nearly healed already.

Sam tossed the bathroom towel onto the side next to the twin-sinks. He stretched his arms up above his head, his palms pointing upwards, his fingers touching, groaning quietly as his lower back clicked into place. From his reflection he could see that his underarms were now smooth and slightly pinkish from where they had been freshly shaved. After sobering himself with cold water from the shower, Sam had been able to raise the temperature of the water enough to finish washing and shaving without incident. His entire body was now silky smooth and completely hairless. Sam’s gaze lingered on his baby-smooth mound and the pink split that bisected his groin.

Since swapping with Antoinette, Sam had done his best to ignore his new sex. To start with it had very much been a case of “out of sight, out of mind.” Now he was much more conscious and aware of it. His experiences with Carlos Ramirez had awoken a new-found sense of vulnerability that he carried with him now wherever he went. He felt it in the presence of any man now, whether it was Rivers, or even someone relatively unthreatening like Lorenzo. It was the deep-rooted, sub-conscious idea that he could be taken, penetrated and used, all with little say in the matter. He couldn’t help but wonder whether all women felt like that.

Sam shook his head and took a hairbrush from the honeymoon hamper, beginning to sweep it through his long wet hair, finding the routine of it comforting. He could smell the sweet scent of the shampoo and conditioner that he had used in the shower.

Sam glanced past his reflection to the locked bathroom door behind him. It would soon be time to go back out there, though he wasn’t quite sure he had the energy for another day with Rivers.

The man who was responsible for his predicament.

The man who now lusted after him, in spite of everything wrong about that whole idea.

Sam could feel his tummy begin to tie itself up in knots. There was that vulnerability again, kicking him right where it hurt. He looked back to his image in the mirror, narrowing his blue eyes as he practiced his best poker face.

* * * * * * * * * * *

“You took your time.”

Rivers looked up at Sam from the bed, his voice deep and full bodied. Sam stepped gingerly through into the bedroom, nervously tightening his grip on his white bathrobe. His partner was sat on the edge of the sofa-bed, his blue pajama top tight against his toned body as he stretched his arms up above his head. Sam could feel his own heart beat racing.

“It takes longer to get ready as a woman.” Sam struggled to relax his shaking hands as he stroked a strand of wet hair back behind his ear. He felt strangely self-conscious and nervous, despite having more than held his own with Rivers the day before.

Sam could feel Rivers’ eyes on him as he tip-toed over to the king-size bed. He sat himself down opposite him, making sure to keep his bare thighs tight together.

“Oh, so you’re finally admitting that you’re a woman now. That’s a good start.” Rivers grinned, letting his gaze linger on Sam’s glistening wet legs.

“That’s not what I meant.” Sam could feel his cheeks blushing.

“It’s okay, really,” Rivers held up his hands, “It’s definitely going to help us. Especially today.”

“What do you mean?” Sam pulled up on the tied knot of his towel. He was irritated that he was already caught on the back foot.

“While you’ve been away having some girl time, I’ve been making some calls.”

Girl time? Sam swallowed, thinking back to his “morning wood” moment in the shower. Did Rivers know? Could men somehow sense stuff like that? Sam shook his head. He was just being stupid. “Calls… what calls?”

“I’ve made us an appointment at the mansion for 12.30 this afternoon.”

“An appointment? You mean we’re just gonna walk in through the front door?”

“Of course. An agent never goes in blind. This will be reconnaissance. You remember how to do that, right?”

“But what if someone recognises me? I mean… Antoinette…” Sam flicked his damp blonde hair back over his shoulders. He could feel droplets of cold water snaking their way over his bare back.

“The woman I spoke to was part of an events agency. It turns out the mansion is let out to the public whenever the owner isn’t around. It’s perfect. We’ll literally get a guided tour of the place.”

“It’s suicide is what it is. What if…”

“There’s always a ‘what if’,” Rivers interrupted, “That’s why the Agency employs people like us, so we can deal with that when it comes. Just relax honey, we’ve done stuff like this before.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest at being called ‘honey’, but quickly bit his lip when he saw Rivers grinning back at him. He was doing it on purpose. Sam realised that he was going to have to do his best to ignore stuff like that, otherwise it would just encourage Rivers to do it even more. Sam let Rivers off with a harsh stare instead. He pushed himself away from the bed and walked around to the bedroom window, his wide hips rolling beneath his bath towel. Sam peered through the curtains to the streets below, the natural sunlight harsh against his eyes. He could already see tourists going about their day, oblivious to the two secret agents in the luxury hotel suite high above them.

“Well, I’m going to need something to wear.” Sam was a little surprised to find that he spoke his thoughts out loud.

“I’ve already thought of that.”

Sam turned back to face Rivers, watching as he stood, threading his pajama top up over his head, revealing the taught musculature of his body. “My favorite designer works in Rome, I put in a couple of orders for us both.”

Sam quickly turned back to the window, frustrated at the sudden awkwardness of Rivers’ half-nakedness.

“You…chose an outfit for me?” Sam sighed and wiped a hand against the condensation on the inside of the window. “Great…”

Sam could hear Rivers bare feet padding across the room and soon he was in Sam’s personal space, close behind him, speaking down over his shoulder.

“Relax. I was very well restrained.” Sam winced as he felt Rivers hands at his waist. He quickly spun around, breaking his grasp, his chest heaving beneath his towel as he stared up at Rivers.

“Will you… will you go get ready some place else?” Sam’s French accented voice wavered and his eyes darted, finding it difficult to keep his eyes on Rivers’ own.

Rivers smiled down at Sam before turning, walking slowly back to the bed. He swept up his pajama top, turning it around in his hands before slipping his arms back into it.

“You know, this is exactly why I stopped taking on female partners.”

“What do you mean?” Sam folded his slender arms across his chest.

“It just gets too awkward.” Rivers looked irritated as he tugged his top back down over his chest, “You have to constantly watch what you say… You can’t even get ready in the same room together…”

“Well I’m sorry, but you’re the one who chose to swap me with a woman, remember?”

Rivers looked up at the ceiling as he spoke as if recounting a well-rehearsed speech. “And then there’s the arguing, the barely disguised sexual tension. Eventually you have sex and it just makes the whole thing even more awkward.”

Sam almost choked. “Well, you definitely don’t have to worry about that ever happening!”

“That’s what they all say.” Rivers gave a wink before turning towards the door. “I’m gonna go get showered.”

As the door closed behind Rivers, Sam gave a frustrated growl and threw a pillow ineffectually after him. Why did he always manage to get the last word in? He knew that Rivers had said those things to wind him up further, but what worried him was that Rivers actually believed all that bullshit.

Sam wearily sat himself down in front of the mirror on the dresser table. His feminine reflection looked back at him from three different angles, looking more exasperated in each one.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam carefully drew the hair straighteners along the length of his long blonde hair, drawing it out in sections into long, silky smooth strands. He even executed the little trick he’d learnt from Maria, of crimping a slight curl into the ends. He watched in the mirror as he let go of the hair, the wavy ends bouncing at his feminine shoulders.

He could still hear the faint roar of the shower coming from the bathroom and was relieved to be away from Rivers’ relentless teasing for a while. As before, Sam came to find his new feminine regime quite relaxing and it didn’t take much blow-drying and brushing of his long blonde hair to lighten his mood.

Sam unpinned the final section of his hair so that he could draw the straighteners through. As the ceramic plates hissed, he closed his eyes, gently humming a tune to himself. His lilting high pitched register took him by surprise at first. It could almost have been Brigitte Lavelle herself, singing the tune to him.

“Il me dit des mots d’amour
Des mots de tous les jours
Et ça me fait quelque chose.”

Sam’s sensual French voice lifted above the ambience of the room. His eyes opened in time to watch his lips mouth the final words. Something about the song comforted him, taking him back to a happier time, but he knew not when or where.

A buzzer shrieked its way through the apartment causing Sam to gasp. He quickly caught his breath and unplugged the straighteners. He listened out for Rivers, but the shower water could still be heard in the distance.

The buzzer wailed once more.

Sam cursed to himself and stood up from the dresser table, quickly re-tying his robe for safety before hurrying along the short corridor to the main reception room, his breasts bouncing beneath his towel with each step.

He paused in front of a long mirror, evening out his freshly styled hair, just as the door buzzer rang out again.

“J’arrive!” Sam called out before hurrying to the door, his small hand curling around the brass handle.

“A delivery for Mister Rivers.” The bellboy from yesterday stood expectantly at the door, a pair of suit bags draped over one arm. Either side of him, Sam noticed a couple of large full bags, each from designer stores. “Just sign here please.”

Sam took the clipboard and pen, and after some consideration, marked his name with a bold ‘X’. He looked up at the bellboy, expecting the young man’s eyes to be wandering his scantily covered body. Instead he stared blankly ahead. At last, someone who knew how to behave around a woman.

Sam handed the clipboard back and stepped to one side as the boy entered. He watched as he carefully laid the suit bags over the back of a chair before returning to the corridor outside to fetch the bags.

“Merci,” Sam smiled as best he could. He closed his eyes and shook his head, gripping his temples between a thumb and forefinger. “I mean… thanks…” Sam opened his eyes again. “Sorry, I don’t have any money on me…”

“It okay,” the boy smiled, “Your husband will leave big tip.”

Sam nodded awkwardly and closed the door. He exhaled, alone once more. “Husband! He’d be lucky!” Sam spent a moment concentrating on breathing deeply. He had found himself slipping into French again, which always caused him to panic a little afterwards. Each time it happened it felt like he was losing something of himself. It was as if Antoinette were still inside him somewhere, fighting to take over.

The marble flooring was cold to Sam’s bare feet as he padded over to the protective suit bags laid across the chair. He took the smaller of the two, guessing it was meant for him.

“Okay Rivers, time to find out what’s in that perverse mind of yours…”

Sam reluctantly unzipped the bag and gasped.

“I don’t believe it!”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Something wrong?”

Sam turned at the sound of Rivers’ voice, watching as he emerged from the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his middle. His naked upper body still steamed from the hot shower.

“Mike! I… I can’t believe you actually picked this!” Sam reached into the suit bag and carefully pulled the clothing out. On a set of hangers were a tasteful, crimson-red woman’s blouse, along with a fitted charcoal grey suit jacket and a matching skirt. Nothing too short or obscene. It was actually something any smart business woman might wear.

“You like it?” Rivers beamed as he walked over, casting only a cursory glance to Sam’s clothes, before taking his own suit bag and unzipping it. “Ah, excellent!” Rivers enthused as he unwrapped his own suit, “Volandro never lets me down!”

“I can’t believe you picked something… normal!” Sam hugged the outfit to his body.

“Hey, do you know how much that suit costs? There’s nothing ‘normal’ about it.” Rivers ran his fingers over his own designer shirt.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know you’d probably prefer something a bit more girly and feminine, but we need to look like we mean business.”

“No, no… this is fine, believe me.” Sam was confused. Why on Earth would he prefer something girly and feminine? “If you’re talking about what I was wearing before… I was in a rush…”

“A very pink, coordinated rush, wouldn’t you say?” Rivers looked side-long at Sam, grinning mischievously.

He was doing it again. Sam cast his eyes skywards, doing his best to ignore Rivers’ comments.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers carefully adjusted his suit cuffs before leaning in to the bathroom mirror to adjust his new silk tie. He always loved putting on a crisp new suit. Out of the many luxuries that life as an agent could afford, a designer suit was one of the ones that he would miss the most.

Rivers stood upright, shrugging his shoulders into the jacket. It fitted him perfectly. He reached up, making careful micro-adjustments to his short hair.

He reached down to the designer bag he had brought in, unboxing a brand new pair of black Italian leather shoes. Sitting down onto the edge of the hot tub, Rivers carefully slid each of his feet, in turn, into the plush new shoes.

Rivers looked up to the closed door, his mind wandering off around the corner, to the bedroom, where Sam would be getting ready in his own outfit. He wished he had some surveillance gear set up for that particular little scene.

Sam had seemed so cute the way he had been excited about his new outfit. It seemed like he couldn’t wait to get all dressed up.

Rivers reached down, tying his shoe laces.

He could still picture Sam in the bed earlier, rolling onto his back, moaning effeminately in his sleep. Part of him kept thinking what would have happened if he’d just slipped into the bed and started caressing Sam’s feminine body in his sleep. Then, by the time he’d woken, he’d have been too far gone to stop anything else.

But it wouldn’t have happened like that. Rivers knew it would have been too soon. He’d managed to coax a girly wet dream out of his partner, and that was enough for now. There was certainly more fun to be had in moulding his sexy little French girl.

The only problem was how much longer he himself could hold out. He’d almost soaked the bed sheets earlier, and even relieving himself a second time in the shower had done little to stem his surging testosterone.

Rivers stood, straightening his suit jacket. He gave one last look to the mirror before reaching down to adjust his crotch.

It was time to see how Sam was coming along.

* * * * * * * * * *

The lipstick tube popped open and Sam carefully turned the end, watching as the crimson color swivelled upwards. The honeymoon hamper had certainly come well-stocked, allowing Sam to take his pick from a whole variety of make-up to best compliment his new outfit. His eyes were now darker and smokier than they had ever been before, his long black mascara covered eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. He pouted, gently smearing the crimson gloss across his full lips, before sucking them inwards to help even out the color. His lips now perfectly matched his freshly painted nails.

Sam’s eyes refocused on the mirror, catching sight of Rivers in the doorway to the bedroom behind him. He looked like he was ready for dinner at a posh restaurant. His new suit looked sharp and his hair was now neat and freshly styled.

“Jesus, you’re not ready yet?” Rivers sighed, walking through into the room.

Sam swivelled on the dresser table stool, pulling up at his bath towel, conscious that it was only thing still protecting his modesty.

“What do you expect? You want me to look the part, right?” Sam spoke up in his French accent.

“Not as much as you evidently do.”

“This isn’t as easy as it looks you know.” Sam set the lipstick back down onto the dresser table and leant in closer to the mirror to wipe at a stray clump of mascara. “Anyway, I’m finished now. I just need to get dressed and then we can get going.” Sam stood up, then stopped, suddenly remembering something. “Oh shit…”

“What is it?”

“No, no it doesn’t matter…” Sam looked away, feeling his cheeks beginning to blush with embarrassment.

“Come on. Tell me.” Rivers settled himself down onto the edge of the sofa bed as he watched Sam.

“Well… I only came here with the one set of underwear.” Sam stroked his luxurious hair back over his shoulders, his eyes darting, not wanting to look Rivers in the eye.

“That’s okay! I thought of that. Take a look in there.” Rivers gestured to the designer bag that Sam had brought through with his suit.

Sam looked at Rivers sheepishly, then hesitantly stepped forwards, reaching into the bag. He first pulled out a couple of large boxes , before reaching in further, finding a smaller, pink boutique style bag that was tied with black ribbon.

“Victoria’s Secret?” Sam let the small bag dangle from one finger, one hand perched indignantly on his hip.

“Go on. Open it,” Rivers prompted excitedly from the sofa-bed.

Sam could feel his heart racing as he pulled open the ribbon. To say it felt weird would have been an understatement. He’d never had anyone buy underwear for him before, and now that he was a woman, it felt even more strangely intimate.

He reached into the bag, slowly pulling forth a lacy black bra. He felt so embarrassed. Even though he was just holding the underwear, Sam felt like he was giving a full strip tease. At first glance the bra seemed too small and delicate to cover his large breasts. He quickly checked the label. He was wrong.

“Oh my god, you know my cup size?” Sam instinctively brought a protective hand to his chest.

“Yours weren’t so difficult figure out.” Rivers stretched back out on the sofa-bed. “They’ve got that fullness to them, definitely bigger than a C, whilst still being quite firm and pert, which you don’t tend to get with a double-D.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Sam tossed the brassiere into the unmade bed sheets, feeling suddenly self-conscious at Rivers’ appraisal of his breasts. He was eager to move on and get the rest over with as quickly as possible. He reached back into the bag. “And a thong? Really?” Sam held out the skimpy black lace underwear with one hand.

“I know you like wearing them.”

“Like them?” Sam could hear his French accented voice going up in pitch with his disbelief.

“And I know the suit isn’t very feminine, so I figured you could wear these and still feel girly underneath.”

Sam began to stammer, still in shock about the whole thing. “Mike… As you’ve clearly already noticed… I’ve got 34D tits and… and a…” Sam gestured to his groin, unable to make himself say the word. “And you think I need help to feel more girly?”

Sam watched as Rivers’ eyes began to roam his body, making him instantly regret drawing attention to himself.

“There’s more…” Rivers brought a hand to his mouth, as if stifling a smirk.

Sam looked at Rivers angrily, then back down at the boutique bag. He reached in with his feminine hand, his fingers curling once more around something soft and delicate.

He pulled the lace garter belt free, watching as the six spider-like straps dangled freely beneath it.

“There’s a couple of packs of stockings in there as well… Hey!” Rivers raised his hand deflecting the thrown garter belt, followed swiftly by the Victoria’s Secret bag.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam stood with his ear to the bedroom door, listening to make sure that Rivers was now far enough way. He could hear the dim murmur of a television set coming from the lounge on the other side of the apartment. Satisfied, he stepped away from the door and carefully untied his bath towel from around his body. The towel peeled away, leaving a faint impression of the fabric against his delicate naked skin.

Sam walked over to the bed, his exposed breasts gently bouncing at his chest, his smooth, shaved legs brushing freely against each other. He searched the bedcovers, finally finding the black lace thong that he had discarded there. He stretched it out between his fingers, finding the delicate pattern to be almost transparent against his hand.

To think that Rivers had almost done a good job in getting him a sensible outfit, only to ruin it all with a typically macho approach to feminine underwear. Still, Sam had almost become used to wearing thongs now, and it wasn’t as if Rivers would ever see him in the provocative lingerie.

Sam sat his naked backside down onto the edge of the bed and carefully threaded his long smooth legs through the leg openings of the thong panties. Standing up, Sam wiggled his hips as he pulled them up further, feeling the lacy crotch pressing tight against his shaved crotch, as the string ran up between his smooth peach-shaped buttocks.

Sam ran his thumbs around the waistband, ensuring an even fit. The lace seemed to almost caress his shaved female loins.

Sam scooped up the matching brassiere and threaded his slender arms through. He eased each of his heavy breasts into the cups, before reaching behind to effortlessly fasten the clasp. He immediately felt the pressure against his breasts as they were lifted and supported. The bra was half cut, leaving the upper slope of his breasts exposed whilst providing an eye-catching line of cleavage. Again, Sam had to remind himself that no one, least of all Rivers, would ever see him in it. Sam ran his fingers around the edges of the brassiere and hefted his breasts a final time in his small hands. Although he’d been angry at Rivers before for knowing his bra size, he now felt quite glad that it fit comfortably.

Sam glanced to the sofa bed, noticing the garter belt and boutique bag still there from where he had thrown them back at Rivers. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself walking over to pick it up. The garter belt was clearly part of a matching set with the bra and thong, but there was still no way he was going to wear it. Sam carefully folded it and slipped it back into the pink bag.

Now dressed in matching black lace bra and thong, Sam carefully unclipped the charcoal grey skirt from its hanger. He stepped into it, pulling it upwards, finding it unusual that the skirt sat so high on his trim waist, coming up to fully cover his flat tummy. He reached behind for the zipper, using his fingernails to grip it and slide it upwards. The skirt closed around him, perfectly following the curve of his buttocks and hips, the hem coming to rest just above his knees. Although he still would have preferred a pair of pants, Sam was at least relieved to be wearing the longest skirt he had so far worn.

Sam next unfolded the deep red blouse, the color and fabric reminding him of rose petals. He carefully slid his slender arms through, the delicate fabric caressing his skin as he pulled it over his small shoulders. The sleeves were short and the blouse hugged his body closely. As he fastened the garment, he soon found that he ran out of buttons, the neckline not running quite as high as he would have liked, leaving a small hint of his cleavage exposed.

Finally, Sam unhooked the jacket from its hanger, pulling his arms through the narrow sleeves. The jacket seemed to be perfectly fitted, as if the tailor had used his precise measurements. The chest of the jacket even seemed to have some extra give at the front to accommodate his breasts.

Sam brushed his hands down over his new jacket and skirt, sweeping away a couple of loose threads. He leant over to peer into the dresser table mirror, but it was too low and small to be able to take in the full effect. It certainly felt comfortable.

Sam sat down onto the edge of the king-size bed, feeling his hips gently stretching his skirt. He swept his hair back over his shoulders and turned his attention now to the two boxes that he had found within the large bag. He pulled the lid from one, removing a handful of packing paper.

“More heels…” Sam sighed as he pulled free one of the four-inch high heeled pumps, turning it over in his hands.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers flicked through one TV channel after another, his head resting against one fist, bored with the awfulness of Italian daytime television. He glanced at his watch, wondering how Sam had managed to waste another fifteen minutes in just getting dressed.

Rivers clicked the TV off and tossed the remote onto the sofa next to him. The silence was short-lived and he could soon hear the loud click of high-heeled shoes against the marble flooring of the adjacent reception room.

Rivers smiled to himself and rolled from the sofa onto his feet, quickly straightening his suit and tugging at his shirt cuffs. He stepped through from the lounge into the next room, his leather shoes scuffing to a sudden halt as he beheld the vision before him.

An elegant young blonde woman, her make-up and hair striking and made to impress, stepped through from the corridor that led from the bedroom. Her bare legs slid one in front of the other, her black heels clicking confidently against the hard floor. Her hips jutted from side to side beneath a fitted charcoal grey skirt. She wore a matching jacket, held with a single button around her ample chest that jostled gently within a shiny crimson blouse.

“Well how do I look?” she asked, a hand on her hip with one leg angled to the side.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam watched as Rivers shook his head, audibly clearing his throat before answering.

“Turn around… let me see.”

Sam swivelled on the spot, his arms wide at his hips.

“Hmm, well it kind of makes your ass look fat.” Rivers planted his hands deep into his pockets as he stepped closer.

“What?” Sam found himself replying in an incredulously high register. He quickly teetered over to the full length mirror by the door, his heels clacking beneath him. The hem of his skirt was narrow with only a small split at the back, causing him to shuffle in small mincing steps.

Sam turned his back to the mirror, looking back over his shoulder as he smoothed his hands over his backside.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.” Rivers’ voice came from behind him.

Sam turned from the mirror, embarrassed that Rivers had caught him out. He felt awkward and cast his head down, absently checking his crimson painted fingernails.

“If you must know, I’m kinda proud of myself for picking something like that out.” Rivers boasted.

Sam looked back up. Like it or not, Rivers’ motor-mouth could always be relied upon to break any awkward silences.

“Oh really?” Sam smiled up at him. “Then maybe you should have been the one who swapped with Antoinette. Then you could have gone shopping for girl’s clothes to your heart’s content.”

“Hey, I like looking at girls in this stuff. I don’t want to wear it!” Rivers absently brushed a fluff from the shoulder of Sam’s suit jacket.

“It’s just as well, you can barely dress yourself as it is.” Sam took a step towards Rivers, reaching up to straighten his tie and smooth the lapels of his jacket.

“Thanks…” Rivers turned away.

This time the silence went unbroken.

* * * * * * * * * *

Whilst Rivers called them a cab to take them to the mansion, Sam returned to the bedroom, busying himself with tidying away the various bags and packaging that had come with his clothes and shoes. It was then that he noticed another box, still unopened.

“What now?”

Sam carefully lifted the lid upwards, finding inside a small leather woman’s handbag colored a deep red, presumably to match his blouse. Sam lifted it free, unclipping it to peer inside, the smell of real leather filling his senses.

Rather than feel affronted at yet another attempt to feminize him further, Sam felt quite pleased. If there was one thing to be said about women’s clothing it was the distinct lack of pockets or anywhere to keep anything. At least with this bag he’d be able to keep a few things with him. Sam looked around the bedroom wondering what he could put in the bag.

Sam walked over to the dresser table, his high-heeled pumps indenting the carpet beneath him. He collected up the various items of makeup he had used earlier; lipstick, mascara, eye shadow, blush, nail polish. He packed a small hairbrush and a packet of make-up removal wipes. Given all that had happened to him so far, Sam knew that he would do well to be prepared for anything.

Sam clipped his new handbag shut, adjusted the shoulder strap and slipped it over his shoulder.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam returned to the reception lounge of their luxury apartment, his red leather handbag now bouncing at his side.

“All packed? Rivers turned from the mirror, his eyes glancing down to the handbag.

Sam nodded in response, sweeping an arm down to tuck his handbag behind him.

“Good,” Rivers continued. “The cab’s downstairs now. I just need to go drain the lizard, then we can get going.”

“Nice,” Sam mocked, rolling his eyes. He quietly lamented the fact that he no longer had a lizard of his own to drain.

Sam watched as Rivers disappeared into the bathroom, the latch clicking shut behind him. Suddenly he felt his heart beat begin to race as an idea formed in his mind.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam gave a last quick glance to the closed bathroom door, before hurrying to the apartment’s exit, his heels clicking rapidly across the marble flooring. He made his way out to the corridor outside the apartment, almost stumbling as he skidded to a halt in front the elevator. He jabbed repeatedly at the call-button.

“Come one, come one!” Sam nervously glanced back to the still open door of apartment.

The elevator door chimed open and Sam hurried inside, his breasts jolting with his sudden movements. The carriage began its slow descent, an irritating tune drifting in from a speaker behind him.

As soon as the elevator reached the ground floor, Sam hurried out. He still had to take short steps due to his tight skirt, his heels clicking rapidly against the floor. He darted across the Hotel de Russie’s lobby, desperately trying his best to ignore the stares from the receptionists and other hotel patrons who had stopped to take in the sight of a young blonde woman hurrying through. The relentless bouncing of his breasts beneath his suit jacket did little to ease his self-consciousness.

Sam pushed through the rotating door to the forecourt outside, stopping as the bright sunlight dazzled him. He could feel the oppressive midday sun bearing down at him. Almost immediately he felt too hot.

As Sam focused he saw a cab parked over to his left. A gruff looking, moustached Italian man was leant against its hood.

“Signore and Signora Rivers?” The man pushed himself away from the car. Sam noticed that the driver’s forehead was beaded with sweat and his lurid shirt was wet under the armpits.

“There’s a change of plan, it’s just me now.” Sam teetered over to the car as the man opened the rear door for him. As Sam approached, the man’s body odor was more evident. He could feel his lecherous eyes on him as he sat down onto the rear seat, bottom first, before swinging his legs inside.

“What a pig”, Sam thought to himself. After the additional efforts he now had to go to, to get ready in the mornings, he really saw little excuse for a man to have such poor personal hygiene.

Sam watched as the cab driver closed the door after him, slowly walking around to the driver side door.

“Come on, hurry!” Sam muttered through gritted teeth. He quickly turned, his blonde hair whipping around him as he glanced backwards through the cab’s rear window. There was still no sign of Rivers.

After a night’s sleep in a comfortable hotel, Sam realised that he had all too readily sided back with Rivers. Part of it had been the distractions of getting ready and the arrival of his new outfit. Had Rivers’ planned it like that? Was Sam really so easily won over by a shower of gifts, wanted or otherwise? He had to keep reminding himself of Rivers’ betrayal. He just couldn’t be relied upon to care about helping Sam to get his body back. As far as Sam could tell, Rivers just wanted to crack open Scarlet and reap the rewards that the Agency would doubtless bestow upon him.

The driver-side door opened and the cab lilted to one side as the odorous man settled into the driver seat.

“Uh, can we hurry please? I’ve got an appointment to keep.” Sam’s feminine voice now had an added urgency to it and he could feel his heart beat hammering in his chest.

The man leant back addressing Sam from over his shoulder.

“We go long way. I need money up front. Your husband will pay, yes?”

“I can pay you after, I’ll figure something out. Please can we just go?”

Suddenly there was a loud thud as a hand slammed hard against the window beside Sam. He shrieked in his feminine register, feeling his whole body tense, almost to the point of losing control of his bladder.

Sam looked up through the window, watching as Rivers peered down at him, looking irritated as he motioned with his hand for Sam to move up. Sam drew a breath, struggling to recover his now frayed nerves. He reluctantly scooted over to the adjacent seat as Rivers opened the door and got into the cab.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I thought we were past all this now.” Rivers looked over to Sam who sat quietly beside him in the cab as the vehicle wound through the heavy traffic of Rome. “I can’t believe you ran off like that… Again.”

“You really think you can buy me frilly underwear and expect me to forget everything you did to me?” Sam looked up as the driver chuckled to himself, his eyes glancing back at Sam through the rear view mirror. “What are you looking at?” Sam quickly snapped back.

“Of course not, but I thought we agreed that we were going the same way, and to at least work together on this?”

“I know… I just… I don’t know…” Sam ran his hands over his bare knees. The cab was at least well air conditioned and provided a welcome respite from the hot Italian weather outside.

“This new impulsiveness of yours… In one way it’s great,” Rivers began, shifting in his seat to face Sam. “It’s quick thinking like that that’s gonna save your life. But one day? One day it’s gonna get you in trouble - big trouble — if you don’t learn how to control it.”

“Is this another Agency pep talk?” Sam turned to look at his suited partner.

“It’s a friend giving some advice.”

Sam breathed in, his chest heaving within his crimson blouse. “I think you left your friend lying unconscious on a bed in Monte Carlo.”

There was silence and Sam turned back to the window, watching as the sights of Rome rolled by the window.

“Well then, I need to go find him and bring him back,” Rivers answered at last.

* * * * * * * * * *

The cab rolled up onto a long gravelled drive, beginning to snake its way past a long parade of trees and bushes towards its final destination. After nearly an hour of driving, the environment had changed drastically. The urban claustrophobia of Rome had now opened out into sprawling verdant green countryside. It reminded Rivers of Turin, making him feel uneasy in spite of the stunning scenery.

Rivers leant forward in his seat, just as Sam did the same. They were leant close as they both peered forwards, hoping at any moment to catch sight of the mansion. Although Sam seemed to be oblivious to their closeness, Rivers could smell the intoxicating freshness of Sam’s blonde hair.

Rivers was still amazed at Sam’s ability to surprise him. He had become fiery and unpredictable. He’d known a few women like that in the past and figured it was probably down to Sam’s female hormones.

“So, have we got a cover story?” Sam spoke softly from his side.

Rivers turned to look at Sam, entranced at his feminine beauty, his make-up and hair making him look like a fashion model.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that.” Rivers reached into one of his jacket pockets. “Hold out your left hand.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Rivers watched as Sam hesitantly brought his hand up. His fingernails glistened with a deep red nail polish. Rivers took Sam’s hand in his. It felt so small and delicate. With his free hand he slid a ring onto a slender digit.

“What the hell is this?” Sam held out his left hand, watching as a diamond ring sparkled from his finger.

“We’re engaged okay? We’ve come here to discuss booking the mansion for our wedding next year.” Rivers grinned at his stunned partner.

“Our… our what?” Sam’s sexy French accented voice stammered.

“It’s a cover story… Okay?” Rivers looked deep into Sam’s blue eyes to make he didn’t lose it again. He watched as Sam studied the sparkling ring on his finger. “I’m afraid it’s not quite as expensive as it looks, but it will be enough to see us through.” Rivers glanced forward again out of the front of the cab. “Look, we’re here.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam stood on the gravel outside of the grey stone-walled mansion, looking up at the ornate architecture, holding a hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight.

The path the cab had taken had opened out into a large turning circle, with a huge flowing fountain at its centre. The mansion itself was only a couple of stories tall, a welcome departure from the towering casinos and hotels they had so far stayed in, though it sprawled outwards with many wings and adjoining outhouses. It was surrounded on all sides by well-tended gardens.

Sam looked over towards the car, watching as Rivers counted note after note into the cab driver’s outstretched hand.

Although Rivers had made another one of his tiresome jokes by posing them as an engaged couple, Sam couldn’t help but think what a great venue it would have made for a wedding. Who knew, maybe he and Lenore would get married in a place like it one day.

Sam looked down at the diamond ring that Rivers had placed upon his feminine finger, watching as it refracted the sunlight into a thousand glistening points.

Lenore.

Sam couldn’t help but picture them both arguing about who would wear the wedding dress. Sam’s thoughts had occasionally darkened, imagining a scenario in which he never recovered his body and was left with Antoinette’s body for good. He wasn’t even sure how he would cope with that, let alone Lenore. The reality would be that she would leave him and Sam would once again be alone.

Sam looked up to the large engraved oak door that protected the mansion from the outside world.

According to Rivers, this was where the Agency database theft had originated from, which meant that Antoinette had to have been there. She could still be in there now. Could he really be that close to her? And what would happen when they did finally catch up with her?

Sam suddenly felt such anxiety and uncertainty, that it was making it hard to concentrate. He was actually starting to feel glad that he was there with Rivers, rather than going on ahead alone.

Sam turned to the sound of gravel crunching underfoot as Rivers stepped up beside him.

“Ready sweetheart?” Rivers beamed down at him.

“Don’t get too carried away, okay?” Sam looked down at his body. His blouse and jacket hugged his firm breasts, flaring as they joined the upper curve of his hips. His tight fitting skirt followed the graceful line of his thighs, ending just above his knees. His shiny black pumps raised his feminine heels by four inches making him feel like he was teetering on tip-toe.

Sam’s eyes closed as he felt Rivers’ arm slip around his small waist. Suddenly he was back in “Le Grand Casino de Monte Carlo”, making his first tentative steps out into the world as a woman.

They walked forwards towards the mansion’s large door. Despite the betrayal of Rivers and the Agency, despite all their disagreements and arguing, they approached the next stage of their journey together.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers’ gently guided Sam through into the grand entrance hall of the mansion. Their footsteps echoed between the walls. Rivers’ steps were heavy and dull sounding, whereas Sam’s heels clicked in a more piercing register.

Both Rivers and Sam craned their heads upwards as they took in the sight before them. It was like they had stepped back in time. Large portraits adorned the walls; of kings, queens and naval commanders. Large banners of an unknown family heritage hung from the upper galleries. Directly ahead of them a wide carpeted staircase rose upwards before splitting in to two, providing access to the upper levels.

They found that they were not alone. Men and women in white uniforms hurried back and forth. Some were setting up long tables with jugs and glasses. Others were arranging freshly cut flowers. Yet more were positioned on the upper balcony as they struggled to fix a huge plasma screen into place.

“Signore Rivers!”

Rivers turned at the sound of a feminine Italian-accented voice. He watched as the young woman approached, hurrying in high heels. Her large breasts bobbed within a white blouse, her long brunette pony tail swishing behind her head. Her long legs were accentuated by her short black skirt and shone from within a pair of sheer pantyhose. She had an olive complexion to her skin and her eyes were dark.

In short, she was stunning.

Rivers soon realised he was gawping and quickly picked his mouth up from the floor.

“Hi… Ciao.” He waved his right hand, feeling immediately foolish about it.

“A pleasure to meet you,” the woman greeted Rivers warmly. He took her offered hand, her bracelets jangling as she gently shook. “I am Sofia, I help organize events here at the mansion.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Rivers smiled, fixing his eyes on her, letting his hold on her feminine hand linger before letting it go.

Rivers winced as he felt a sharp elbow jab against his side.

“Oh, this is… Antoinette…” Rivers turned to find Sam looking irritably up at him.

Sam turned back to the woman.

“Hi.” His voice was small and uncertain.

Rivers watched Sofia’s dazzling smile as she greeted Sam. “The blushing bride to be. Etes-vous francais?”

Rivers watched as Sam reluctantly nodded back. He noticed that the two girls were almost the same height in their heels, both blessed with a natural beauty and a stunning pair of tits, though Rivers found his gaze drawn more to Sofia, whose skirt was shorter, her white blouse displaying far more cleavage.

“Monsieur Gerard, the owner of the mansion, is French also. You will find much of your homeland within these walls.” Sofia gestured upwards, drawing Rivers’ gaze once more to the upper gallery of the mansion. He noticed that there was a platform that overhung the lower level, as if designed for a band or other performance.

“We really feel that this is the place for us,” Rivers began, hugging Sam’s small body towards him. “But if we could take a look around, that would be great.”

“Of course,” Sofia smiled back at him, her breasts swelling pleasingly beneath her blouse. “If you would like to follow me?” She started to walk off towards the main staircase, her heels clacking loudly.

Rivers stopped for a moment, taking in the sight of her round ass twitching from under her short black skirt. He drew a breath then turned back to Sam. Sam’s blue eyes narrowed and he indignantly folded his arms across his chest before stalking off after Sofia, leaving Rivers wondering what on earth he had done to offend him now.

* * * * * * * * * *

The sound of two sets of high heels rang out around the cavernous entrance hall of the mansion, as Sam followed Sofia to the staircase. His red leather handbag bounced gently at his side with each step.

“As I explained on the phone, we do not usually admit visitors at this time of the year.” She turned back to Sam, grasping his arm, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But your fiancé is a very persuasive man.”

“I find the trick is to ignore him,” Sam answered, tugging on his suit jacket.

Sofia broke into a soft giggle. She stopped at the foot of the stairs, allowing Rivers a chance to catch up with them. “If you choose to have your wedding here with us, you will have access to the main area here for the ceremony. We can decorate it just how you want.”

“I’m sure you’d like some pink flowers, wouldn’t you honey?” Rivers hand slid over the small of Sam’s back, causing his whole body to tense.

Sam bit his tongue. He couldn’t start arguing with Rivers in front of Sofia. He managed, at least, to force his lipstick covered lips up into a smile.

They began to climb the staircase. As he ascended, Sam could feel his tight skirt brushing against his thighs, along with the string of his thong rubbing between his buttocks.

“Looks like you’re pretty busy today.” Sam asked, looking around as the various uniformed workers busied around them like bees.

“Yes. Monsieur Gerard is currently in residence, so the east-wing is closed off today I’m afraid. He is hosting a big event tonight for an organization that he runs.”

“Organization?” Rivers glanced sideways to Sam.

“Yes, it is a private event. I really cannot say any more.” Sofia gave them an awkward glance back. ”We can at least view the guest rooms in the west-wing, including our exclusive honeymoon room.”

“Oh, that would be great,” Rivers eagerly responded.

Sam watched Rivers, noticing that his eye-line was fixed firmly on Sofia’s backside as she continued up the stairs.

* * * * * * * * * *

“And this is our honeymoon room.”

Sam noticed that Sofia carried a large bunch of keys at her waist and flicked through several before finding the right one. She unlatched the wooden door and it creaked inwards.

She stood to one side, allowing Sam and Rivers to enter. The room was made up to look like something regal, with long elegant drapes across the walls. A four-poster bed dominated the middle of the room. Large windows were positioned either side to catch as much daylight as possible, with a door leading through to a balcony that overlooked the rear gardens of the mansion.

“This is perfect, don’t you think honey?” Rivers made a play of walking around the room, marvelling at the décor.

“It’s very nice.” Sam walked through, his arms folded across his chest.

Rivers sat himself heavily down onto the bed at the room’s centre, the springs bouncing beneath him. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time in here, right babe? We can barely keep our hands off each other as it is.”

Sam’s mouth hung upon as he stared down at Rivers in disbelief.

Sofia smiled at them both. “I can imagine that Antoinette is a very lucky woman.” She glanced at Sam, winking.

Rivers pushed himself back up from the bed and walked back over to Sofia. “Do you mind if we have a little time alone to discuss?”

“Of course, Signore. Your wedding is the most special day of your lives, it is a big decision to make, but I do hope you will consider spending it here with us.” Sofia’s Italian-accented routine was well practiced and she smiled warmly with every sentence. She hefted the heavy door shut, her high heeled footsteps disappearing back down the corridor outside.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You’re unbelievable!” Sam began at once in his feminine voice, his heels tapping as he walked right up to Rivers.

“What?”

“You know what! You were practically drooling at the sight of her!”

“Oh, come one!” Rivers swept back the sides of his jacket, his hands on his hips. “You can’t tell me she’s not one sexy piece of ass.”

“She’s… attractive,” Sam answered hesitantly, “but that doesn’t mean you have to salivate around her like some horny dog. You know, women can tell when you’re looking straight at their tits!”

“She was loving the attention.” Rivers turned, walking towards the glass door that led out to the balcony. He swung it open, a welcome breeze sweeping into the room. “If you ask me, you’re starting to forget what it’s like to have a pair of balls between your legs.”

Sam could feel his cheeks burning, as his temper began to fume inside of him. He quickly followed Rivers out onto the balcony. He had to hold his long blonde hair to one side as it began to pick up in the breeze.

“That’s got nothing to do with it. I thought you were serious about helping me to get my body back. So far you’re treating this like a holiday.” Sam looked out to the gardens. The lawn had obviously been freshly mowed and he could smell the freshly cut grass carrying on the wind. “Plus, I thought we were supposed to be engaged?” Sam found himself toying with the ring on his finger. “You’re not doing a very good job of it, chasing after other women like that!”

“Someone sounds jealous.” Rivers turned, his hands coming up to Sam’s sides. Sam brushed his arms away, his heels clicking as he made his way back into the bedroom.

Rivers followed through. “Look. I am taking this seriously. This is just part of how I do things, you know that.”

Sam looked down at the floor, his hair falling back into place over his shoulders. Rivers was right in that respect. He wasn’t behaving any differently to how he would on any other mission. It was just that their current objective was so personal to Sam that he desperately wanted Rivers to take it as seriously as he did.

“I feel like we’re just wasting time here. We’re no closer to finding out what’s going on here than we were before.” Sam could feel his voice cracking with emotion, his eyes beginning to glisten.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Whilst I’ve been ‘salivating like a dog’, as you so eloquently put it, I’ve been keeping my eyes and ears open.” Sam looked back up as Rivers spoke. “This Gerard character who owns the mansion, and this event being held tonight for his ‘organization’…”

“Scarlet…” Sam’s eyes widened as he continued Rivers’ line of thought.

“You can bet your peach of an ass on it. Did you notice how cagey the girl was when I asked her about it?”

Sam nodded. He was actually still surprised that Rivers’ mind had been working on the mission all along, despite his immature behavior.

“So what are going to do?” Sam asked, feeling his heart beating faster in his chest.

“We’re coming back here tonight.” Rivers facial expression changed, looking fully serious for the first time since they had arrived at the mansion. “We’ve just invited ourselves to the party.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * * * * * * * * *