SCARLET by Jessica Drew Part 10 Sam and Rivers return to the mansion to infiltrate the party. With Rivers working the floor and Sam back behind a computer, will it really be just like old times? * * * * * * * * * *

René Gerard checked his appearance one last time in the mirror, turning his face from side to side, inspecting every last pore in his moisturized face. Of course he was vain. He freely admitted to it, though he felt no shame in it. The body was a temple that needed to be nurtured with good food, vigorous exercise and impeccable hygiene.

He swept a comb once more through his slick black hair, ensuring it was perfectly symmetrical. He checked his temples, massaging them gently with an index finger. His hairline had begun to ever-so-slightly recede in recent years. He decided he would book an appointment soon for a hair transplant, to recover what he had lost. Other than that, he had fought against the ravages of the last forty years with great success.

Gerard carefully adjusted his bowtie, ensuring it sat perfectly perpendicular to his neck, finally satisfied that his appearance was as perfect as he was going to get it. He stepped away from the mirror, turning back towards his study.

A large antique desk was positioned in front of a wide window that overlooked the rear gardens of his personal mansion. His computer screen was positioned in the exact centre with his notepaper arranged into neat piles either side. A pot of perfectly sharpened pencils was positioned precisely fifty centimetres in from the top edge of the table.

Gerard paused, looking out into the blackness beyond the window. It was now evening and he could already hear the distant throng of his assembled guests in the main lobby. Tonight would be a welcome celebration for both him and his brothers and sisters in arms. Much had been achieved over the last few days.

Gerard stopped in front of a sideboard, pulling a wooden drawer outwards. He reached in, picking up his handheld digital video camera, switching it on to check the charge. He wanted to capture as much of tonight’s events as he could. He preferred to film events himself whenever he could. He particularly delighted in capturing people’s reactions to what he had to show them. It was fascinating to watch the human psyche in motion, writhing from beneath a complex mixture of facial tics and expressions.

And tonight he had so very much to show them.

* * * * * * * * * *

The night air was warm and muggy, and crickets chirped from the bushes surrounding the mansion’s gardens.

Mike Rivers gave the signal and Sam Fields quickly hurried under one of the mansion’s rear windows, keeping as low as he was able whilst running in a pair black high heeled pumps. He came up close behind Rivers. Both were tight up against the wall of the mansion as they peered around a support column that protruded from the flat of the mansion’s wall.

“Okay, the guards have just turned down the East-side of the mansion. This is our chance,” Rivers whispered back to Sam.

Sam looked up at Rivers’ masculine face which was partially illuminated by the full moon above them. Rivers still wore his expensive designer suit from earlier, though he now wore a heavy duty back pack that they had loaded with all of the equipment from their Agency supplied cases.

After their visit to the mansion earlier in the day, Sam and Rivers had discovered that a celebratory function was being arranged that night for an unknown organization. They suspected that it had to be something to do with Scarlet. They had returned that evening, equipped with everything they needed. It had proved easy enough to sneak around to the rear gardens of the mansion where it was still relatively quiet. Now they just needed to get in there.

Rivers cautiously stepped away from the safety of the mansion’s wall. Sam quickly followed, his breasts bobbing beneath his blouse and suit jacket, his legs moving quickly beneath his figure hugging skirt. The soft grass at least masked the sound of their footsteps, although Sam found it much harder to walk on with his heels.

They gazed upwards to the balcony of the guest honeymoon room on the second floor.

“Are you sure no-one’s in there?” Sam whispered in his soft feminine voice.

“It looks dark up there,” Rivers squinted upwards, angling his head to one side. “I can’t imagine the guest rooms will be in use while the mansion’s owner is in town.”

“So how are we supposed to get up there?” Sam nodded his head to the balcony above them. He looked nervously about them, fearing that the patrolling guards would soon return.

Rivers jogged forwards so that he stood directly beneath the balcony. He slipped the back pack from his shoulders and then crouched, cupping his hands just above his knee.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a boost up.”

Sam’s shoulders dropped. Why did it have to be him?

“Unless you’d like to swap?” Rivers prompted.

Sam reluctantly stepped forwards. He could scarcely lift his leg due to the tightness of his skirt and was forced to raise the hem half way up his thighs, so that he could lift his left foot up onto Rivers’ waiting hands.

Rivers took Sam’s weight and tensed his body, straightening his back to lift Sam upwards. Sam wobbled uneasily, his hands unapologetically gripping Rivers’ head for support.

“Watch the hair!” Rivers warned, still keeping his voice low.

Sam brought his right leg upwards, stepping up onto Rivers’ shoulder now. The heel of his shoe dug into Rivers’ shoulder blade causing him to groan with pain.

“Sorry…” Sam whispered as he reached upwards, his hands grasping the stone balcony above him. As he pulled against it, Sam was surprised at his upper body strength, his slender arms tensing as he raised his female body upwards. He finally managed to lift himself high enough to rest his upper body on the edge of the balcony, his legs now dangling free from Rivers’ support.

“That thong looks really good on you.” Rivers’ hushed voice came from below.

Sam groaned at Rivers’ comment, realising that he was in no position to preserve any ounce of dignity. He pulled himself forwards, rolling down fully onto the tiled floor of the balcony. He lay there for a moment on his back, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. He stared up at the twilit sky above him. Out in the countryside, the stars were densely packed, forming an undeniably impressive vista. For a moment it felt like he was laying on the very edge of the world.

“Sam? Are you okay?”

Sam sat upright, his breasts shifting beneath his blouse. He peered back down over the side of balcony to Rivers below, raising his hand in acknowledgement.

“Look around, there should be a fire ladder. Most old houses like this have them.”

Sam searched the balcony and soon found a sealed red metal box bolted to one corner. He quickly unlatched it finding a coiled rope ladder within. He tossed it over the side of the balcony, the ladder tumbling in rapid circles as it unfolded itself to the ground.

Sam kept a careful watch, checking for any sign of the guards. Below him, Rivers shouldered his back pack once more and hefted himself up the rope ladder.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam followed Rivers cautiously, keeping close behind, as they let themselves into the room through the glass balcony door. Unknown to Sam, Rivers had wedged some hardening gel against the lock earlier that day, so that they would be able to get back into the room from the outside. Once again Sam had been surprised at Rivers’ forethought. He had accused Rivers of letting himself become distracted by the female events organizer, rather than concentrating on the mission at hand. However, it was becoming increasingly apparent that Rivers had everything planned out all along.

Sam quickly closed the door behind them and drew the curtains as Rivers turned on a lamp. The four-poster bed revealed itself in front of them.

“Well, at least we’ll have something to do if we get bored.” Rivers commented, shrugging his back pack from his shoulder down onto the bed.

Sam ignored Rivers and stepped over to the door that led out to the corridor, checking that it was locked. He paused, listening at the door, hearing the distant rumble of voices coming from the main entrance hall.

“Sounds like the party’s in full swing.” Sam blew out, trying to calm himself. He slipped his red leather handbag from his shoulder and set it down onto the table beside him. “Okay, so now what do we do?”

Sam looked back over to Rivers, hoping that he had an answer.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers fastened his leather gun belt around his shoulders and chest, making sure it was secured tightly over his shirt. He pulled his pistol from its sheath, screwing the silencer barrel into place.

“You’re… you’re not gonna be using that… Are you?”

Rivers turned at the sound of Sam’s feminine voice. He looked down, finding his blonde female partner sat facing him, his jacket now discarded over the back of his chair. He looked up at Rivers with large innocent blue eyes, his hands resting in his lap, nervously rubbing at the hem of his skirt.

“Not if I can help it,” Rivers replied, sliding his gun back into its holster. He reached for his own jacket on the bed, sliding his arms back through. He was worried that Sam seemed to be pinning all his hopes on finding Antoinette in the mansion.

“You know we’re looking for the stolen Agency data here right? If Antoinette is still here, then consider it a bonus.” Rivers eased his shoulders into his jacket and smoothed his lapels. He checked his reflection in the mirror on the wall, satisfied that his pistol was not noticeable beneath.

“You may be looking for the Agency data. I’m just here to get my body back.” Sam shook his head, his lilting French accent coming through stronger.

Rivers sat down onto the edge of the bed, sitting himself directly opposite Sam. Sam’s pretty face was lined with worry and his breasts had begun to heave from under his red blouse with his increasing exasperation. Even though Sam had developed into a sassy, sexy young woman, Rivers could still understand his desire to get back to his own body. Even still, Rivers had to try and make Sam see some perspective.

“Listen, Sam. I know we haven’t spoken too much about what happened to you on the yacht. I know you took one for the team back there…”

Rivers’ comment caused Sam to turn away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“…Now hear me out,” Rivers kept talking, despite Sam’s obvious discomfort. “All I want to know is what made you do that? What made you decide to go through with it?”

Rivers watched Sam’s eyes begin to glisten, his eyes darting as he looked down at the floor.

“It was like you said,” he answered at last, stroking a strand of blonde hair away from his cheek, “all those women and children that Ramirez was using. I had to help them…”

“And did you do that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you help them?”

Sam sniffed, “Mike, I’ve got a database with the details of everyone Ramirez has been trafficking sitting on my personal web space.”

Rivers could sense that Sam was becoming defensive, his voice rising in pitch.

“Okay, okay… So you’ve got some addresses. Now who do you think is going to use that data? Who’s actually gonna go out there and bring those people home?”

Rivers watched as Sam connected the dots in his head. His eyes looked up at Rivers once more, his long mascara-covered lashes blinking innocently.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam leant forwards over the table, plugging in a final USB cable, before straightening himself. He stood with his hands perched on his wide hips, waiting as his laptops logged themselves in. One of the screens had a deep crack running along the middle of the screen, a victim of Sam’s frustrations from the day before. He glanced at his reflection in the screen, the crack fracturing his feminine image into two.

Damaged but still serviceable.

Sam couldn’t help but feel that it applied to him as much as the laptop. Despite all the mental scars that he bore, he was still managing to hang on in there.

Yesterday, Sam had dismissed Rivers’ concerns about the Agency database theft. Why should he care if they were exposed to the world and went under because of it? This was the same underhand, unethical organization that had swapped his body, and that now wanted to arrest him for breaching security.

What he had failed to realise was that without the Agency, his data from Ramirez’s yacht was all but useless. It would be the Agency that would act on the information and instigate a mission to rescue the enslaved women and children from Ramirez’s sex trafficking rings. Everything he’d endured and put himself through would be for nothing if the Agency was exposed.

He couldn’t have that. His actions had to have meaning.

It was therefore, with some reluctance, that Sam had agreed to help Rivers find the stolen data. In return, Rivers would do his best to find Antoinette and get his body back.

Sam watched as Rivers struggled with his micro-camera contact lenses, tilting his head backwards in front of the mirror.

“I forgot how much these things hurt,” Rivers said at last, blinking his eyes. “Are you getting a signal?”

Sam turned, leaning back over the laptops as he jabbed at the keys with his index fingers, being careful not to damage his painted fingernails. Finally the screens flashed into life with distorted pixels. Sam made some adjustments and the images gradually sharpened into high-resolution focus, perfectly displaying Rivers’ field of vision.

“Hey!” Sam quickly stood upright, bringing his hands around to shield his backside from Rivers’ wandering eyes.

“At least we know they work!” Rivers grinned back at him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam leant back in his chair exasperated, sweeping his mane of blonde hair back over his shoulders.

“What is it?” Rivers’ voice came from the bed behind him.

Sam turned sideways on his chair, crossing his smooth bare legs one over the other. “At this range I should be able to pinpoint the residual signal from the device that was used to download the Agency database.”

“But…”

“But, they’ve got some pretty screwy signal jamming going on in here.”

Rivers stood up, beginning to pace the room as he rubbed thoughtfully at his stubble flecked cheek.

“Let me guess… Not what you’d expect from your regular rich mansion owner with a soft-spot for weddings…”

“Uh-uh,” Sam shook his head, smiling at Rivers’ joke. It felt strange to be back behind a computer as Rivers readied himself for the mission ahead. If it hadn’t been for the constant reminders of his femininity, he could have believed they were right back at the start of their mission in Monaco.

As it was, Sam could feel his breasts, tightly held within a black lace brassiere, rubbing against the fabric of his blouse with every breath he took. He could feel his hair tickling at the back of his neck each time he turned his head. He could feel the string of his lacy thong riding up between his rounded buttocks and the cool air of the room against his smooth bare legs. He was constantly aware of Rivers’ eyes roaming his curves with a lust filled look in his eyes. He was sensitive to every use of the word “woman” and “girl”. When he walked his heels clicked, like a rhythmic metronome, counting out the relentless march of his womanhood.

It all proved to reinforce the full reality of all that had happened, reminding Sam of just what was at stake.

“So what are we gonna do about this?” Rivers’ deep voice roused Sam from his thoughts.

Sam cleared his throat.

“Well… I’ve managed to configure your in-ear receiver to double as a remote detector.” Sam watched as Rivers’ reached up to his right ear. “As you move about the mansion I should be able to tell if you’re getting closer to the source of the signal.” Sam toyed absently with the ends of his long blonde hair.

“That’s brilliant!” Rivers enthused, “So you’re not just a pretty face after all!”

Sam turned back to look at his laptop, hiding his blushing face from Rivers. He wasn’t quite sure whether to be pleased with the compliment or not.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers strode confidently along the corridor that ran along the length of the west-wing of the mansion. He straightened his silk tie as he walked, tugging on the cuffs of his suit jacket. The roar of the assembled guests began to grow louder as he approached.

“Testing… one, two. Can you hear me, beautiful?” Rivers spoke quietly. He wore a pin microphone at his collar which was sensitive enough to pick up his own voice as well as anyone he might happen to converse with. That, coupled with the contact lens cameras that he wore, ensured that everything he saw and heard was relayed straight back to Sam’s laptop in the honeymoon room.

“Loud and clear. Can you hear me okay, asshole?” Sam’s feminine voice came through into Rivers’ in-ear receiver.

“Like music to my ears…” Rivers smiled. There was something quite sexy about having Sam’s French-accented female voice whispering directly in his ear. “Okay, he we go. Stay sharp.”

Rivers pushed at the pair of heavy oak doors that led into the main hall, a wall of noise rushing to greet him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers stepped out onto the carpeted balcony that ran around the circumference of the main entrance hall of the mansion. Although he and Sam had got a good look at the place during their reconnaissance that afternoon, it still surprised him now that he saw the place full with people.

It was like all of Europe’s high-society had gathered into one place. Expensive tuxedos and suits mingled with cocktail dresses and gowns, all to the accompaniment of a string quartet. Rivers could spot the designer labels a mile off. He rested his hands on the balcony railing, looking down at the throng below, still trying to take it all in.

“Any sign? Can you see her?” Sam’s voice came excitedly from within his ear.

“Nothing yet. Try and take it easy. We’re taking this nice and slow, okay? How are we doing with the tracker?”

“I’m having to compensate for the interference, but… You’re getting closer.”

Rivers smiled at Sam’s lack of precision. “Alright, keep me posted. Rivers out.”

Rivers pushed away from the railing and began a slow stroll around the balcony, nodding and smiling warmly at a passing couple that had come up to get away from the crowd below.

For the most part, the assembled guests certainly didn’t look like they belonged to a criminal organization. Old, respectable looking gentlemen laughed heartily below him as they drank from their wine glasses, whilst young couples fawned over one another in the corners. He began to have doubts about whether this really was something to do with Scarlet, though he couldn’t bring himself to voice his concerns to Sam at this stage.

It was only when Rivers had walked around to the opposite side of the balcony, and found two armed guards stationed either side of a pair of closed doors, that he was convinced that all was not as it should be. Security patrolling the grounds outside was one thing, but this was something else.

Rivers calmly approached the guards, slipping his right hand casually into his jacket pocket. He was mildly amused as they began to nervously glance at one another.

“Good evening,” Rivers greeted the pair, confidently standing between them. The guards were dressed all in black and each cradled a semi-automatic rifle in their arms. “That’s some firepower you’re carrying there. I guess I must have missed the ‘bring your own weapon’ part on my invitation.”

Rivers watched as the face of one of the guards creased into a grimace, whilst the other seemed to nervously look over to his partner for reassurance.

“Well aren’t you guys the life and soul of the party.” Rivers continued to walk on by, but turned to speak back over his shoulder. “Can I bring you guys up a drink? A margarita perhaps?”

Rivers grinned to himself as he reached the top of the carpeted staircase. He drew a breath, letting the ambience of the room soak into him as he began his descent.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam stared intently at his laptop screens, twirling the end of a strand of blonde hair between his fingers. He watched Rivers’ contact lens camera feed as he eased his way through the crowd of people on the ground floor of the mansion’s main hall, checking each and every face that he saw encase it was Antoinette.

Encase it was him…

Sam still wasn’t sure quite how he would react if he saw himself, but it proved a constant source of anxiety that turned his stomach.

He checked the read-out from Rivers’ in-ear monitor. The proximity sensor had indicated the source of the Agency database download to be beyond the guarded door that led through to the private east-wing. If Antoinette was indeed there, she would probably be keeping a low profile, making the east-wing a pretty good bet for her too.

All the same, Sam still felt the need to check the crowd in the main hall, just encase.

Sam uncrossed and re-crossed his smooth, shaved legs, tugging down at the hem of his skirt. He could now see that Rivers was surveying the room, his eyes darting between all the windows and exits, searching for another way in.

So far it wasn’t looking very hopeful.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers positioned himself to one side, leaning against a pillar over by the string quartet’s band stand. He spent a moment observing the flow and bustle of the guests. He smiled pleasantly to those that noticed him, but didn’t feel the need at this stage to start a conversation.

His gaze drifted upwards to the large plasma screen that hung from the upper balcony where he had just been standing. Its screen was now lit, broadcasting a simple message down to the gathered crowd.

“Welcome, brothers and sisters.”

It was sounding more and more like they had stumbled into the middle of some sort of cult.

“Would you like a drink, sir?” A female voice roused Rivers from his thoughts and he turned, almost staggering backwards at the sight before him.

A young woman stood before him, offering a tray of champagne glasses. She was dressed in a stunningly revealing French maid’s uniform. The lacy black material hugged her body, the corsetry squeezing her large breasts up into a cleavage that threatened to burst from her outfit. Rivers’ eyes swept downwards from her chest, to her pinched in waist, the uniform flaring into a stylized ruffled skirt, decorated with a frilly white apron. It was short enough to display her garter straps and the lacy tops of her stockings. Her shapely legs shone with black silk, her towering heels pushing her up onto tip toes.

“Signore Rivers?”

Rivers finally looked up at her face, recognising her immediately.

“Sofia?”

* * * * * * * * * *

“What are you doing here?” Sofia’s smile beamed from her scarlet lipstick covered lips. Her Italian accented voice was smooth and sensual. Rivers found his gaze dropping once more to the swell of her tits, which she seemed to be offering upwards as much as the tray of drinks that she held.

Rivers could hear Sam sighing from within his ear, but ignored it. It was like having his conscience sat on his shoulder. He reached a hand out to take a glass of champagne.

“I was invited.” Rivers took a sip of his drink, pleasantly surprised to find it was “actual” Champagne and not some Italian sparkling wine substitute.

“You didn’t tell me that earlier!” Sofia pushed playfully at Rivers’ shoulder. “If I knew you were a member of Scarlet I would have offered you a discount on the room.” She paused for a moment, her heels clicking beneath her as she teetered. “Or maybe your job was to check up on me?”

Rivers laughed, raising his eyebrows. “Believe me, if there was a job for checking up on you, I’d take it.”

Sam’s feminine voice groaned despairingly from the receiver in Rivers’ ear.

“You are a very naughty man Signore Rivers,” Sofia giggled.

“So I’ve been told…” Rivers gazed past Sofia as a parade of identically dressed French maids filed out from the adjoining kitchen, each with their own trays full of champagne. Their high heels echoed throughout the large hall. Behind him, Rivers could hear the excitement of the room suddenly go up a notch. “That’s a very… interesting choice of uniform.”

Sofia looked down at her body, acting as if she were surprised to find herself wearing such a provocative outfit. “Oh, this is Monsieur Gerard’s choice.” She reached up, adjusting the white lace headpiece that she wore. “I am just helping out. It is double pay tonight.”

“Any time you want to help me out, I’ll pay you triple.” Rivers grinned, finding that he just couldn’t help himself.

Sofia’s brown eyes bore seductively into his. “I am not sure Monsieur Gerard would be too happy about that… Or your fiancée for that matter.”

“Well, they’re not here. Are they?”

“Monsieur Gerard will be along later. He is very excited about tonight. He has a big surprise in store.”

“I bet he does.” Rivers took a careful step closer, enough to be able to smell Sofia’s perfume. “Where is he? I have a few ideas I’d like to run past him before he gets too caught up with other things.”

“That is quite impossible. He is not to be disturbed. In fact, nobody is allowed into the east-wing.”

“Nobody… except you?” Rivers downed his champagne and set it back down onto Sofia’s tray.

He noticed Sofia reach down, absently fingering the set of keys that she wore at her waist. She grasped Rivers’ arm and stepped up onto tip toe to whisper into his ear. “I need to go down to the cellar to get some more champagne…” Her gaze lingered on Rivers, her eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, before pulling away.

Rivers watched as she walked away, heading back in the direction of the kitchen, her drinks tray still very much full with champagne glasses. Her backside jerked from side to side, the lower curve of her buttocks almost visible beneath the hem of her maid’s dress. Her garter straps stretched with the movement of her legs, tugging at the silky fabric of her stockings.

She looked back at Rivers from over her shoulder, fluttering her mascara covered eyelashes seductively.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Mike, what are you doing?” Sam’s French-accented voice spoke up at last from Rivers’ in-ear receiver.

Rivers kept his voice hushed as he spoke, acting casual. He knew that he didn’t have to speak particularly loudly for Sam to be able to hear him.

“What do you think? I’m going to get us into the east-wing.”

“By getting into Sofia’s panties?”

Rivers winced as the volume of Sam’s shrill voice went up a notch.

“I’m not going to do anything. I just need to… work on her a little.” Rivers figured enough time had now passed and turned, slowly making his way towards the kitchen door.

“Just remember why we’re here okay?” Sam sighed, “You’re not fooling anyone. I can see exactly what you’re looking at from here, remember?”

Rivers grinned to himself. Sam was certainly starting to have issues with him directing his attention at another woman. He’d meant it when he said he wasn’t going to do anything with her though. Sofia was clearly smitten enough with him already, and it wouldn’t take much more of the old Mike Rivers charm to get what he wanted from her.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers carefully stepped onto the stone steps that led down into the mansion’s wine cellar. A dim electric light provided a minimal amount of lighting. He turned, carefully easing the door shut behind him that led back out into the kitchen.

He’d managed to bluff his way through into the kitchen easily enough, acting like a spoilt rich brat wanting to know when the food was going to be brought out. The staff had placated him with a slice of French toast and caviar, and then left him to it. It had then only taken a few seconds (with Sam’s help), to find a moment when no-one was watching him, allowing him to slip unnoticed through the cellar door.

Rivers made his way down the narrow steps, biting into the last morsel of French toast. He reached the bottom, ducking his head under a low beam.

He swallowed.

The basement cellar was lined from floor to ceiling with racks upon racks of dusty bottles. There had to be thousands of Euros worth of vintage wines in front of him. Under different circumstances, he would have loved to peruse the collection. As it was, there was something even sweeter than the finest Italian dessert wine that now demanded his attention.

Sofia was perched on the edge of an old wooden table, one of her long shapely legs outstretched, the other bent upwards slightly, offering Rivers a magnificent view of her stockings and garters, and even a hint of her black panties beneath her maid’s dress. She smiled as Rivers approached, holding up a pair of champagne glasses, her dark eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Unbelievable…” Sam sounded exasperated in Rivers’ ear.

“Shut it!” Rivers whispered back.

“I’m sorry?” Sofia cocked her head to one side, looking confused as Rivers approached.

“Ah… The cellar door… I shut it so we wouldn’t be disturbed.”

“Mmm, good thinking,” Sofia purred, handing Rivers one of the glasses. Rivers couldn’t help but glance down at her swollen cleavage as he knocked glasses with her, the crystal ringing out through the cavernous basement. “I was worried that you wouldn’t come. After all, why would you? You have a very beautiful fiancée.”

“I’ve always been drawn to things that I can’t have,” Rivers eyes glanced down to the set of keys at Sofia’s side. “It’s a failure of mine.”

“Well, one man’s failure is another woman’s gain.” Sofia sipped at her own glass, her eyes fixed on Rivers’ own. “I know what you want…”

“You do?” Rivers was so close to Sofia now, her feminine curves writhing in front of him, her sweet scent filling his senses. He could feel his cock beginning to stir in his pants, despite his best efforts to remain professional.

“You came down here to try and convince me to let you into the east-wing.”

Rivers laughed, setting his glass down onto the table behind her. “That’s right… You got me!”

“Monsieur Gerard would be very, very disappointed in me if I did that,” Sofia purred, dipping her finger into her champagne before bringing it to her lips. She closed her eyes, slowly sucking on the end of her finger. “So it would have to be worth my while…” Her eyes flashed open, looking up at Rivers lustfully.

“What did you have in mind?” Rivers moistened his dry lips.

Sofia set her glass down behind her, then gripped the lapels of Rivers’ jacket. She pulled him down to her, her luscious red lips closing on his.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam Fields quietly fumed to himself as he sat, watching the scene play out before him across his laptop screens. All along he had been worried about Rivers pulling the moves on Sofia, but instead it was the other way around.

She was all over him!

Sam watched in disgust as Sofia all but sucked Rivers’ face off, her lipstick smearing across her face. As far as Sofia knew, Rivers was spoken for and was planning to get married next year. Sam glanced down at his hand, finding the fake diamond engagement ring still glinting from his finger. Did the woman have no morals?

Sofia certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Sam looked over at the thermo-image feed from Rivers’ lenses, noticing that her face and chest were now flushed with heat, the false-coloring of the image portraying her skin as a bright purple.

Rivers certainly didn’t seem to be putting up much resistance either…

“Just get the keys already,” Sam silently willed Rivers, folding his arms impatiently across his chest. He watched as Rivers’ hands came up, circling around Sofia’s small waist pulling her closer, her keys jangling beside her. She moaned beneath his kisses.

Sam crossed his bare legs, feeling embarrassed at the lewd noises that had begun to escape from his laptop speakers.

Sofia broke away from Rivers, her hair now slightly dishevelled beneath the white lace headpiece of her outfit. “I want you to show me how much you want these.” She playfully held up her keys, letting the ring dangle from her index finger. “Show me how… badly…you need them.” She leant forwards, kissing at Rivers’ neck as her hand slid downwards, cupping Rivers crotch through his pants.

As Rivers moaned at her touch, Sam uncrossed his legs again, crossing them over the opposite way, absently squeezing his thighs together.

Of course, Rivers had done stuff like this before. Sometimes it was necessary, sometimes it wasn’t. Sam would just switch off his laptop feeds and take a break. But something about Sofia began to draw Sam’s interest. She was just so confident and forward, seemingly oblivious to her provocative state of dress. She was a woman who was totally at ease with her sexuality and knew just how to use it.

Sam gazed at the flickering images from Rivers’ contact lens cameras, watching as her hand rubbed at Rivers’ hardening bulge.

Sofia’s boldness was certainly a far cry from Sam’s own awkward behavior on the yacht, and even his deceitful seduction of Rivers in Civitavecchia looked amateurish in comparison. Sam watched as Rivers’ right hand came up to cup Sofia’s left breast. She certainly seemed to be getting what she wanted from Rivers.

Sam blew a stray strand of hair away from his forehead. Why did they have to make the room so damn hot? He fanned his chest, then unfastened a button on his blouse to better let the air get to his body.

He watched as Rivers fondled each of Sofia’s heavy breasts in turn. When she sighed and leant back against the wooden table, Rivers took the opportunity to duck his head down to kiss at the exposed upper slope of her tits.

Sam’s fingernails grazed at the flat portion of his own chest, just below his neck. Slowly his hand slid lower, dipping beneath his red blouse, sliding across to his left breast. He closed his eyes, exhaling as he cupped himself, gently beginning to massage his tender flesh through his lacy bra.

Sofia and Rivers moaned and sighed from the laptop in front of him. Sam’s eyes opened, watching the caressing and kissing before him as he silently unfastened another button from his blouse. His hands slid within, crossing over to cup both breasts now, his bare legs beginning to writhe beneath his skirt. He found if he raised his left leg a little he could increases the pressure between his thighs…

Sam gasped.

What was he doing?

He ran his left hand up through his blonde hair, feeling so tense and frustrated. First there had been the shower this morning… And now this? He wanted to stop, feeling ashamed and angry at himself, but there was now a warm buzzing sensation building between his milky white thighs that was proving far too distracting to ignore.

All the while Rivers and Sofia writhed and moaned from the laptop. Sofia had turned, leaning herself forwards against the wooden table. Sam watched as she raised the ruffled hem of her maid’s dress, revealing her black panty covered backside framed by the straps of her garter belt.

“Show me…” she soothed back to Rivers, holding her ring of keys just out of his reach. “Show me how much you want it…”

If Sofia represented a woman fully in control, then Sam now felt like a woman helplessly out of control. He slid his palms along the inside of his thighs, his wrists pushing the hem of his tight fitting skirt upwards. He could smell his own feminine musk and could feel the clammy dampness of his thong against his vagina. His heart beat threatened to burst from his chest as he watched Sofia offering herself to Rivers

“Mmm, oui…” Sam sighed, his fingers sliding ever higher along the inside of his thighs. He could see from the thermo-image feed on the laptop that Sofia’s loins appeared as a fiery deep violet color.

“Mon dieu!” Sam whispered, his eyes closing, his fingers finally grazing against the lacy edges of his thong.

Then he stopped.

Sam stared blankly at the laptop for a moment, then pushed his chair back. He stood up, his legs feeling weak, still indecently exposed by his raised skirt and gaping blouse. He reached up to his throat.

“Parler anglais!”

He began to panic.

"Pourquoi ne puis-je pas parler anglais?”

Sam tried again.

And again.

But try as he might, he could no longer speak English…

* * * * * * * * * *

Mike Rivers could feel his pulse racing as he stared down at Sofia. She was leant forward over the wooden table, offering herself to him, the hem of her skirt raised to proudly display her black panties.

Rivers’ eyes flicked between the sight of her round, firm ass and the ring of keys that she grasped in her right hand. They were within his reach. He could easily lean forwards and take the keys from her. She wasn’t strong enough to stop him. But Rivers’ cock was now swollen and aching beneath his pants. Sofia’s caress had been agonising and he could almost feel the testosterone in his blood, urging him to yank down her panties and enter her.

Rivers looked up, the dim lighting of the wine cellar casting dark shadows around them.

He had promised Sam that he wasn’t going to do anything with her. He was just going to get the keys. He’d made, and broken those sorts of promises before, but this time he couldn’t help but picture Sam’s beautiful feminine face, looking heart broken and disappointed. It felt like he’d be cheating on her… on him…

How crazy was that?

Rivers gazed back at the swell of Sofia’s buttocks, her broad hips, her lace garter belt and the smooth, sensual grace of her legs wrapped within her silk stockings.

God, he wanted her so bad.

Rivers moved in, gripping Sofia’s hips causing her to yelp with delight. His hands ran over her smooth backside before gripping the waistband of her panties.

“Mike! Vous devez m'aider!” Sam’s voice was loud and piercing in Rivers’ ear. He winced, taking a step backwards, bringing a hand up to his ear.

“Aidez-mois!” Sam cried out again. Rivers could hear that he was sobbing beneath his broken words of French.

“What’s wrong?” Rivers turned away from Sofia, cupping a hand to his right ear.

Sofia spoke in her Italian accented voice, “I am waiting for you… Do you not want me?” She pushed herself back up from the table, her uniform falling back down over her hips.

“Shhh!” Rivers brought up a hand to silence her as he listened for Sam, his eyes darting with worry.

“S'il vous plait… venez vite!” Sam’s voice sounded desperate.

Sofia stepped towards Rivers, her heels clicking on the stone cellar floor. She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Signore Rivers? What is wrong?”

Rivers turned, his mind racing. He grasped Sofia’s shoulders, looking down into her dark eyes.

“I… I need to go lie down…” Rivers’ rubbed at his head as he made for the steps that led back up to the kitchen. Sam’s muffled, distressed voice was almost intelligible now and soon disappeared altogether into a haze of static. He had to get back to him. Something was wrong.

“Lie down? Oh, I like your thinking.” Sofia excitedly followed Rivers, her heels tapping after him as he bounded up the steps.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam gripped his blonde hair in frustration staring down at his laptop keyboard. He tentatively jabbed an index finger at the space bar. In his desperation he had inadvertently cut off his feed to Rivers.

If he could just remember how to get it back…

Just… remember…

Sam hammered his balled fists down onto the table. Why couldn’t he remember? He stood up, his chair clattering backwards behind him. He stumbled around the bedroom, unsteady in his heels as he gripped his aching forehead. His head felt like it was buzzing, as if an overload of information seethed and writhed beneath his temples.

“Non! Non!” Sam, fell to his knees, his face creasing with discomfort - not with pain - but with an overwhelming sense of helplessness, as if all sense of control were slipping away from him.

He tried to gather his thoughts and focus on something… Anything… but his thoughts now came to him in Antoinette’s soft feminine voice, every imagined word coming to him in perfectly formed French.

Even after the swap, Sam’s inner monologue had continued on with his regular male, Philly-accented voice. He had found it to be a reassuring anchor to who he really was.

Now he felt as though he had been cast adrift, spiralling endlessly into an abyss.

Sam felt his mind closing off, finally unable to cope, the ceiling lights flaring brightly, consuming him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rivers jogged along the empty corridors of the west-wing of the mansion, trailing a hand along the wall, checking the rooms as he went. Some distance behind him, Sofia ran as best she could in her platform heels, sending her large breasts bouncing wildly on her chest.

Rivers skidded to a halt, finding the honeymoon room at last. He hammered his fist against the door. There was no answer. He tried again, calling out through the door this time.

“Sam?”

Rivers threw his shoulder against the door, the old timber frame splintering with the second attempt.

“Sam!”

Rivers slid down onto his knees, cradling Sam’s unconscious female body, lifting his limp head upwards, sweeping long blonde hair away from his feminine face. He checked for signs of life, breathing a sigh of relief as he noticed Sam’s breasts gently rising and falling with his breathing.

“What is she doing here?” Sofia’s Italian accented voice came from the doorway behind Rivers, “I thought you said you were alone?”

Rivers turned back, seeing Sofia standing in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. He’d been so desperate to get back to Sam that he hadn’t really thought about what he would do with Sofia.
She stood there, still scantily clad in her French maid’s outfit, though she looked irritated, especially now that she had noticed the damaged door frame.

“Just get in here and give me a hand will you?”

Rivers grasped Sam’s body, supporting him from under his arms, as Sofia teetered through into the room. Despite her anger and confusion, she was still concerned enough to take Sam’s feet, helping Rivers to lift his feminine body.

“What is wrong with her?” Sofia questioned as they carefully laid Sam out onto the bed.

“Maybe it was the champagne?” Rivers commented wryly.

“Very funny…” Sofia straightened her outfit, pulling up on the plunging neckline of her uniform to keep from exposing her breasts. “I can’t believe you led me on like that, and she was here all the time!”

“Look, just calm down…” Rivers reached inside of his jacket.

“Do not tell me to calm down, mister hot-shot American! I should have known better than to…”

Sofia’s eyes widened and her legs began to buckle. Rivers slipped an arm around her small waist, guiding her to the opposite side of the bed as she struggled against the effects of the tranquilizer dart. He let her fall ungracefully forwards onto the bed next to Sam.

Rivers immediately turned his attentions back to Sam, slipping his tranquilizer pistol back into the holster beneath his suit jacket.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam could hear a voice calling his name. It was a low, even, measured voice that he subconsciously associated with reassurance and confidence. He wanted to move towards it, to bathe in its comfort and protection.

Sam’s long eyelashes flickered as his eyes opened.

“Easy… Take it easy.”

Sam jerked awake, shifting his body upwards on the bed. His chest was heavy with the weight of his breasts beneath his crimson red blouse.

“Mike?” Sam’s feminine voice was groggy. He reached a slender hand out, which Rivers took, clasping it between his own warm hands.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Rivers was leaning over the bed, his masculine features warm and welcoming.

“Like someone took a sledgehammer to my head.” Sam winced at the harsh lighting from the ceiling above him and rubbed at his eyes.

He was speaking English…

Moreover, he was thinking in English!

Rivers helped him to sit up, allowing Sam to swing his bare legs around until his high heeled feet rested on the carpet. He turned back, finding Sofia lying on her front, unconscious on the bed beside him. The hem of her maid’s dress had fallen upwards revealing her panties and garter belt.

The memory of what had happened came flooding back. How he had watched Rivers and Sofia in the wine cellar…

Sam gasped and reached to his chest, realising that his blouse would still be gaping open from earlier. He was both surprised and relieved to find that all of his blouse buttons were fully fastened.

“So what happened to you back there?” Rivers asked casually, turning away to look at the static filled laptop screens.

“I… I was running a diagnostic on the laptop. You know, while you were… occupied.” Sam carefully watched Rivers, terrified that he might guess at what he had really been doing.

“Hmm… Doesn’t sound too exciting.”

“It happened like that before…” Sam quickly covered himself, “On the yacht… when I was using the computer there… But never as bad as this…”

“You know, you actually had me pretty worried back there.”

Sam watched as Rivers turned back to face him. To his surprise his face betrayed no trace of irony.

“Really? You… worried…” Sam held his arms out so that Rivers could help him up.

“I know you think I’m the world’s biggest jackass…” Rivers grasped Sam’s hands and pulled him upwards. He didn’t seem to know his own strength and Sam was pulled forwards, causing his feminine body to press tightly against Rivers. “But I still… care.”

Sam stared up into Rivers’ eyes, feeling his breasts against his body. He could feel his heart beating faster. He cleared his throat and quickly pulled away.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam stood in front of the tall mirror that hung on the wall of the bedroom. To his embarrassment, he found that his feminine cheeks were stained with mascara. He found his handbag, remembering that he had brought some make-up removal wipes with him.

Sam still felt shaken by his ordeal earlier.

It had felt like he was losing his mind.

He cast his mind back to all the occasions when he had found himself slipping into Antoinette’s French language. He came to realise that each time it had happened, he had been busy doing something else. Something that he either found engaging or relaxing, whether it was working on a computer, or even the relatively new experience of applying his make-up. It was almost as if a part of Antoinette crept back in whenever Sam had his back turned.

His most recent experience had certainly been the most distressing of all. Sam did not know whether it was just getting worse the longer he spent in Antoinette’s body, or if his recent actions had something to do with it.

Sam glanced back at the bed, to Sofia’s sleeping body, the confident, sexual energy of the brunette girl now silenced and dormant.

“Let me guess… tranquilizer?” Sam nodded to the bed as he rubbed at his face with one of the cleansing wipes. “I’m beginning to think that’s your new way of picking up girls.”

“I had to do something. She was beginning to freak out on me,” Rivers answered.

“Hmm, I wonder why. Ever think it might be you?”

“Always.” Rivers walked across the bedroom to the drawn curtains, peering out through the gap to the blackness beyond. “Someone’s got their sense of humor back…”

Sam knew that if he didn’t laugh, he would probably cry. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror and drew a deep breath, his breasts stretching the fabric of his blouse. He had now removed the last of the make-up from his face and had begun to brush out his blonde hair with the small hairbrush from his handbag. He glanced back at Rivers from the mirror as he peered out through the balcony window.

Sam had been adamant that Rivers take the mission seriously, that he take accountability for his actions and help Sam to get his body back. But then what had Sam gone and done? He’d hardly proven to be a shining example of professionalism. He still felt enormously self-conscious and ashamed of what he had done earlier.

And what he had nearly done…

If Rivers found out he would never have heard the end of it. He wouldn’t even blame Rivers if he decided to give up on helping him to find Antoinette, and instead focused all his efforts on trying to coax him into bed.

Rivers turned away from the window, strolling back over to stand beside Sam. Sam found it difficult to look his partner in the eye and instead busied himself with his handbag, tucking his hairbrush back into one of the inner pockets.

“Do you think you’re ready to carry on?” Rivers voice was quiet and sincere.

Sam meekly nodded, flicking his blonde hair back over his shoulders.

“Good.” Rivers smiled and threw Sofia’s keys up into the air, catching them triumphantly with one hand.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam smoothed his charcoal grey skirt over his backside and sat himself down in front of his laptop screens. He brought his feminine hands back to the keyboard. He hesitated, his fingers hanging above the keys.

“Something wrong?” Rivers came up behind him, leaning over the back of the chair.

Sam turned, looking over his shoulder at Rivers.

“I… I don’t know what to do…”

“What do you mean, you don’t know what to do?” Rivers’ voice sounded irritated as he stood back up straight.

“Please…” Sam pleaded in his high-pitched voice, feeling increasingly more upset, “I’m telling you I don’t know what to do!”

“Come on, Sam! You just need to monitor the camera feeds and keep an eye on the tracker.” Rivers reached over Sam’s shoulder, bringing up the feeds to his contact lenses, the laptop screen producing a disconcerting infinite mirror effect. “And…you know, compensate for the interference…” Rivers waved his hand, looking upwards as if addressing the unseen network signals that permeated the air.

“Interference… right.” Sam settled himself back against the chair, sweeping a strand of hair back over his ear. “And how do I do that?”

“You’re joking, right?” Rivers paced the room, sounding exasperated.

“Do I look like I am joking?” Sam flexed his slender fingers outwards as if waiting for sudden inspiration to hit him.

“Well, what do you remember?”

Sam closed his eyes, thinking for a moment. “Merde…”

“What is it?”

“French… I still know French…”

Sure enough, Sam could remember all of it. Every verb, every conjugation, every subtle pronunciation. He gripped his head in his hands, fighting the wave of panic that threatened to take him.

“Dammit!” Rivers lightly kicked at the edge of the bed in frustration. “We need someone to work that tracker, otherwise we’ll be going in blind. We can’t go searching every last room in the east-wing, the place is huge.”

Sam pushed himself up from his chair, turning to squarely face up to Rivers. “Mike, I’ve just lost years of computer courses, exams and study. I’m having a pretty hard time with this okay?” His feminine voice was stern and heavy with his French accent.

“Sam… look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“You work the damn tracker if it means that much to you!” Sam stepped away, folding his arms across his chest, feeling annoyed and frustrated with Rivers lack of sympathy.

Rivers sat down at the table, rubbing at his cheek as he stared thoughtfully into the void of the laptop displays.

“Actually that’s not a bad idea…” he spoke at last.

“What?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“I mean… it’s been a few years since I took the signal processing course back at the academy, but I’m sure I can work it out.”

“Then who’s going to go out there?” Sam perched his hands on his wide hips. Rivers grinned up at him. “Oh no. No, not me!”

“Why not? Come on Sam, after everything you’ve done already, this is going to be child’s play.”

“Child’s play?” Sam shot Rivers a disapproving look. “Mike, there are guards out there with machine guns!”

“I know, that’s what makes this even better,” Rivers enthused, becoming increasingly more animated, “You see, you’ll be able to go in disguise!”

“Disguise?”

Sam followed Rivers gaze, turning to look towards the bed where Sofia still lay, fully clothed in her French maid’s uniform.

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * * * * * * * * *
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