Chapter #20Consultant with Benefits by: Nostrum   Though you have no training whatsoever, the idea of having those things end up in the wrong hands chills you to the bone. It might not just be Ashley or your family that’s in danger – everyone in the city is.
You’ve seen all the damage Tessa (or whoever was inside) did. Their tendrils touched even the FBI, with Renner betraying them for reasons unknown. Imagine if a terrorist, a maniac – or worse, a violent nihilist – got ahold of them.
But Silva – or whoever’s inside her – isn't alone. She mentioned she works for some people and that makes you wonder. “How about that organization you mentioned? Why not ask them for help?”
“Because whoever stole the blueprints is probably an insider. Most likely someone on the higher echelons – someone who has probably replaced my bosses and is doing damage control.”
“And you just said you trust no one.”
“Moments ago, I would’ve lied. I trusted Renner.”
You feel the pain in her words. It must have been painful. “Was he part of the organization?”
“Another outsider – from the FBI, of course.”
“And Clark?”
His name makes her chuckle. “A patsy. Too easy to manipulate, too righteous to lure into this world. When I said ignorance is bliss, he was the first man that came to mind.”
You point at the door, at the one replacing her. “And that one?”
“That’s beyond your clearance, kid.” She leans close, flashing an impish smirk. “But if you agree... “
She gives you enough time to think, but you take less than a second to decide. “Yeah. I can’t trust anyone either – not after what you told me.”
“Excellent!” She grabs the green pen, waving it at you. “Take off your clothes.”
“Why?”
“Quickly. We’ve got no time.”
Pressed by her words, you take your shirt and pants off, but she points at your groin. “Everything,” she specifies, and you strip them off completely. Then, she clicks the green pen at you, without warning.
At first, nothing seems to happen. Then, an irritable itch overcomes you, and you feel your skin starting to bloat. You try to scratch, and your skin stretches and slips – the opposite of when you wear a skin. It’s so bothersome that you scratch your back, only to notice a thin strip that easily tears off.
“What the hell is this!?” you shriek at Silva as you realize you’re essentially wearing a skin.
“Relax,” she says as she helps you take that layer off you. “It’s a cool trick that’ll make our lives easier.”
You notice that, while the skin is identical to yours in every aspect (save for being empty), you yourself haven’t changed – only a little rosiness that quickly fades away. Silva holds it aloft, and you see yourself (deflated) for the first time in your life.
“And how this’s gonna help us?”
“With the next two tricks.” She grabs the black pen and clicks it; soon, you see your copied skin become an exact clone of you, though seemingly asleep.
“You... made a clone of me?”
“Yes.” She grabs and hands you the brown pen. “Now, it won’t act unless you jolt it alive. I need you to take that pen and point at him.”
“What will that do?”
“It will remove a failsafe that prevents your clone from acting. You’ll feel a little tingle on your spine, but nothing to worry about.”
You flinch, since you only know the brown pen lets you get their information. Did those pens have more uses than what you imagined?
“Once you’re finished,” she adds, “go ahead and put my skin on.”
“Why?”
“For your alibi. You saw two of me when you arrived, no?”
“Yeah...?”
“Well, there can’t be two of you. And certainly there can’t be two people knowing what you know. So you’ll have to be my twin to convince this guy that he was shocked.”
“He won’t believe it.”
“You’ll see. Now, use that pen before I change my mind.”
Without hesitation (probably because Silva can be pretty domineering), you point the pen at your comatose clone and click. Soon, you feel that jolt running down your spine, followed by a sudden case of vertigo. You recover quickly enough to notice Silva snatches the pen off you, leading you to the corridor.
As you hear Silva giving your clone instructions, you make your way towards one of the safehouse’s bedrooms. You’re certainly not shocked to see agent Silva’s naked, deflated skin lying on the bed, alongside the clothes you saw her twin wear. The idea of becoming a hot Latina field agent soon overcomes you, and without a further thought you began slipping your legs into her smooth, finely toned ones.
Soon, there was no trace of an eighteen-year-old white male teenager. Instead, the mirror shows a fit, naked woman with a perennial tan and light auburn hair falling to her shoulders. Her clothes hid some serious abs and strong calves, but most importantly a fine (if small) pair of perky breasts and a bushy groin.
“Not bad,” you say to yourself in Silva’s voice, though without her Hispanic twang. You admire her curves when you’re reminded of your mission – to fool your clone into... something.
You’ve been slipping into women’s skins long enough to know how to put on their clothes. The bra straps still were a struggle, but soon enough, your magnificent body is covered by a lavender blouse, coupled with a deep purple blazer and skirt, tan leggings and black pumps. You adjust the card identifying you as special agent Adrienne Silva, fixing a little slip of your lip balm caused by adjusting her sultry face into yours.
You’re still not used to walk in pumps, but you make your best effort to meet the real agent at the living room. Your clone turns, and though you can see the glimpse of surprise in his face, it feels awkward. (Do you really do that weird smirk when you’re surprised?)
“David?”, the agent says while pointing at you. “Meet Adrienne Silva. I think you already know each other.”
“I’d say quite intimately,” you joke as the clone watches both of you. She beckons you closer, and you try to imitate her leg cross, rather awkwardly.
“How there are two of you?” he asks, though you’re unsure if it’s awe or fear.
“That’s above your clearance lever, Dave. Like I said, you’ll have to stay here for a day before I can take you back home.”
I see, you realize. He’ll be my replacement.
“Alright,” he accepts without questioning.
“My friend and I need some privacy to discuss some serious matters, so I must ask you to leave.”
“Okay.” Once again, there’s no doubt in his words. He accepts it like the truth. What did Silva do to your clone?
As he leaves, you seek to satisfy your doubt. “What was that?”
“That will be David Anderson for the foreseeable future,” she murmurs. “I promised your parents you’d be helping us for a while, and you promised Ashley you’d be friends with her.”
“But he’s not me.”
“He’s the closest thing there’ll be of you,” she confesses. “As long as you work for us, you’ll have to cut ties with everyone – your family, your friends, your acquaintances--”
“My girlfriend?”
She tries to laugh, but all it ends up is a sad sigh. “Yes. Even her. Unfortunately, attachments to people can be troublesome in our line of work.”
You notice Silva’s unfazed at seeing herself. You’re still shaken by seeing what was basically a layer of skin turned into an exact double of you, acting like a mindless drone. Has she done this before? Certainly, there was someone else wearing a skin of her – that means she must’ve used the pen on herself.
But how did she convince your clone? “What did you do to him?”
“Now that you’re properly cleared,” she jokes, “I had to wipe out his memory and give him a little suggestion.” She grabs the white pen first. “This is the thing that helps us do the Men in Black trick.”
“The neuralyzer,” you recall.
“Yeah. It’s got a different name but everyone calls it that. I made it forget everything from the moment you saw my double up to the point he was created.”
That explains why he was so startled to see you. “And why he’s not making questions?”
“Because I ordered him to.” She takes the purple pen, grinning. “if I see you grabbing this, I swear I’ll fuck with you so hard that you’ll regret making this decision.”
And just like that, you stop making questions. (At least, about that thing.) “So, what’s our next move?”
“I’ll take you back home – your clone, that is – and pay him for his service. Maybe add a little bit to your college fund. Enough to make you feel safe about him.”
“And us?”
She wiggles her eyebrows, smirking. “We, my dear, will have some fun. I'm sure you’re curious about how lesbians have sex, no?”
--
Adrienne’s amazing. It’s obvious she knows how to please you, because it took her less than half a minute to make you horny and hungry for her. She deftly maneuvered herself to the top, and you devoured each other with kisses.
Then, she taught you the secret to perfect scissoring. And as much as you tried, she ended up having the upper hand.
She’s holding you by the waist, her leg wrapping yours. She’s cupping a feel of your (her?) breasts while kissing your neck. “How was it?”
“I...” You have no words but three. “I want more.
“And you’ll get it. How’s everything upstairs?”
“Rutila and I are getting acquainted,” you answer, calling her by her middle name. (Which you know she loathes, but what other way to prove you tapped into her mind?) “It’s your grandma’s name, right?”
“Yeah, but we always called her--”
“Abuela Ruta,” you answer in flawless Spanish.
“Exactly.” She mounts atop you, pinning you to the bed. “Tomorrow, we’ll make a little test. You’ll take your clone to your home, and I’ll gauge how well you’ll do. But now...” She points at the closet, at the hanging skin of Ashley Wright.
“Can I?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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