Scarlett and 'The Woman' team up.
Paris, 1893.
"Can you do the splits, Miss Irene?"
"No, I certainly cannot. I do declare this to be the most idiotic idea that you have had thus far."
"I quite disagree, my dear Irene. It is exceedingly clever. Would it be possible for a man to infiltrate Le Cabaret Artistique?"
Located in the bohemian Montmartre district of Paris the exclusive club was nothing short of legendary even in its own time. Created in 1881 the club encapsulated the thrill of the 'Belle Epoque' or the beginning of a Golden Age, through its music and dancers. The Parisian bourgeoisie flocked to the club every night especially to enjoy the new high-energy chorus dance known as the Cancan. Within a short space of time, the dance had been considered scandalous as the chorus line performed nightly dressed in open crotch pantalettes, necessary for the high kicking.
"And let me add the fact that you paint a pretty picture in your outfit. You have rather nice legs."
Rachel Irene huffed and then stole a sidelong glance at her new companion. The talented opera singer and adventuress had tumbling auburn locks which framed her striking face. Her blue calf-length full-circle skirt had a lining of lots and lots of layered white ruffles. The slim looker had her bodice high at the back of the neck and low at the bosom. One large feather was pinned to the top of her head and she wore a check choker around her neck as a compliment. The nature of the new dance was for the girls to swing up their skirts to offer quick glimpses of their drawers, petticoats, and stockings.
"Thank you."
The two paired-up young females had taken the train to Paris from London. They had been tasked by Scarlett's sister Mordred, on behalf of the British Government, with retrieving a unique key hidden in the heart of Paris, France. Not only that but specifically behind the scenes of a cabaret club in Montmartre.
The plan was for the two women to go undercover and follow the clues to discover the secret location of the said key which would unlock the recently discovered safe of the Napoleon of crime himself, Professor M.
"Who knows what untold secrets are to be unearthed in the man's safe?"
"So, we just wait with the other dancers?"
The novice sleuth possessed a sharp and logical mind that had enabled her to follow in the footsteps of her renowned private consulting detective who was her older brother. Forever referred to by her as 'the woman' they had crossed paths several times before and Scarlett's sister had persuaded her to act in liaison with Scarlett due to her knowledge of the fair Capital of France and her numerous male acquaintances. And they each had considerable skills for disguise.
Since Emma Watson, Scarlett's trusty companion and lover, was somewhat indisposed with a broken foot, it seemed that one such as Rachel act as a substitute.
Scarlett adjusted her headdress with the red plume and admired herself in the mirror. The dancer's dressing room was small and cramped and was full of girls in various states of undress. Her knee-length skirt had red and gold stripes and her petticoat had a daring low bust line that accentuated her generous cleavage.
Her mesh fingerless gloves matched her black fishnet stockings and a red feather boa rested on her elbows. Under her skirt was a pair of split knickers that she had decided to wear after toying with the idea of going without entirely. Very risqué!
"When the opportunity arises then we shall act."
The blonde had arranged for the pair of them to gain access to the club by masquerading as Cancan dancers. They would be on standby lest any of the regular girls were incapacitated or ill. And the logic behind this was that the club had a secret and seedier side that thrived behind the scenes. The bordello was several exclusive and extremely private rooms where those who could afford it could enjoy the delights of the best Parisian whores. Both men and women.
"We must seek out rooms Cinq and Sept. That is where we shall discover our first clues."
Irene looked into green eyes that twinkled in the gas-lit room. The striking Scarlett had a diamond-shaped face with prominent cheekbones and a narrow chin. Her best feature was undoubtedly her permanent pout that made her seem to always be prepared to be kissed. Apart from her good looks the self-titled consulting detective was known for her proficiency with observation, forensic science, and logical reasoning.
"Mademoiselle Holmes. You are needed onstage."
A senior choreographer by the name of Edith peered inside the door as a half dozen of the girls filed out.
"Rather you than me," said a relieved Miss Irene.
"Right. This is our chance. When we go on you slip into the back and try one of the rooms."
"Very well."
Scarlett joined the others and entered the dance hall with loud cheers and whistles from the excited patrons. The hall was surprisingly big with a high ceiling and many coloured lights. The sound of the girl's clunky heels clattered on the wooden floor of the stage as the orchestra warmed up.
Then the conductor tapped his baton and the musicians began the familiar and lively quadrille by Offenbach. Scarlett instantly got into dance mode and joyfully high-kicked her shapely legs and flayed her arms around with the others.
"Wheeee!"
She lifted her skirts provocatively, threw them over her back, and presented her crotchless bloomers for all to see. The lead dancer, a long-legged blonde stood at the front and screamed 'hoop-la!' which was greeted by enthusiastic whoops from the audience. Behind her, the others danced in unison, arm in arm, with the occasional whoop! Then Scarlett stood into the limelight, did the splits with her legs perfectly in line with each other, and raised her arms in the air in triumph.
"OUI!" she exclaimed loudly.
"Bravo!" yelled one admirer.
"Magnifique!" cried another.
"Outrage!" shouted one fellow who found himself bumped to the back of the hall by others.
As the girls left the stage through a smoky haze the sound of clattering drink glasses and the bustle of waiters filled the hall. Many a Franc would be made tonight. When Scarlett returned to the dressing room she duly noted the absence of Miss Irene. The game was indeed afoot.
x
Miss Irene waited until all backstage hands were riveted to the show and tentatively made her way to the darker-lit rear section of the club. She found a narrow set of stairs, dimly lit and empty. When she reached the top she was confronted by a line of similarly coloured green doors numbered one to ten.
Each door also had a geometric symbol under the number. A circle, square, rectangle, and so on. Seven and five were the rooms containing pre-planned clues as to the hidden location of the elusive key. Scarlett had foreseen the inevitable danger of agents of the Professor also seeking the key and had prepared clues and tasks that required a solution before discovery.
"Whatever the pair of you encounter you must comply with the tasks set out. To refuse might lead to a world war. The British Empire depends on you."
Rachel took a deep breath and turned the door handle to room number five. Mordred's final instructions at the back of her mind as they left Waterloo railway station. She opened it a crack and then hurried in before anybody noticed. Once inside the bold American found herself in a windowless room dominated by a large round bed. A light fragrance filled her nostrils as she noted the walls adorned with pornographic images of the decadent Roman Empire. The bed itself appeared well upholstered and had a floral needlepoint headboard. But it was the occupant of the bed that made her catch her breath for on it laid a virile-looking young bull naked.
"Bon Sour, Mademoiselle. My name is Alphonse, at your service. If you would remove your garments we may get down to business, oui?"
The dark-haired man had a fine, muscular physique and looked to be in his prime. Twenty-two, maybe? His chest was broad with the slight wisp of hair but his torso was hairless for the most part. His arms were crossed which gave his upper arms a most powerful image. His lower body was no less impressive and at his groin, he sported a half-stiff appendage above two low-hanging testicles.
It was his eyes that captivated Irene though, being large like moons and of an attractive deep chocolate colour. Sex was not a word mentioned in her life in New Jersey, but that did not mean the young woman had not enjoyed the odd dalliance with men. Of course, in these days of Queen Victoria, such moments of unmarried merrymaking were usually labeled sin.
"Very well."
Alphonse watched, stroking his cock to stiffness, as the straps of her top fell from delicate shoulders. She removed her feather and softly brushed her hair back from her face and behind her ears. With eyes locked on each other, Rachel slid her skirt down over her thighs and let it pool around her boots. Left in bloomers and slip she sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off her footwear. As Rachel sat, she saw the broad mirror fitted beside the bed and a much bigger one in the ceiling.
The man moved closer to her and began to kiss her bare neck and she felt her heart quicken. As he pressed his naked body to her side he slipped his right hand inside her slip and cupped her left breast. As he nibbled her collar bone he felt the nipple stiffen and a tiny sigh escaped her lips.
"You seek an answer to a problem. We shall make love and the darkness may become light."
Rachel's eyes darted around the room. No sign of a clue anywhere. How on earth would having intercourse reveal the location of the said key? Then their lips met in a passionate kiss and Irene felt her desire for the strapping Frenchman escalate. His lower lip brushed hers with a big swipe as his hands lifted the bottom of her slip and drew it over her head. Her big and bouncy tits with the pale areolas became freed up and the man wasted no time in kissing the perfect swell of each.
"That...that's...nice."
The feel of his mouth on her bosom and his fingertips sliding along her shoulders was electric and together they fell back onto the bed in a fevered clinch. His hands were everywhere as they writhed in each other's arms and Irene slipped her bloomers down with her feet. The redhead shivered as he tongued the areolas before sucking in the hardened nipple of each superb orb in turn.
"Alphonse."
With cheeks flushed and breath ragged Irene let his right hand glide across her stomach to her inner thighs where she automatically opened her legs in invitation. Alphonse bent down and kissed her abdomen and he felt her tremble beneath his hot lips. He gently rubbed her inner thighs and her breasts rose and fell in anticipation of her sex being touched.
"Magnifique."
She squirmed on her back as his lips met the outside of her labia and a pleasurable tingle went through her. He saw her wetness that moistened her pubes and smiled to himself. She stifled a scream by placing her fist into her mouth as a finger entered her quim. Satisfied by her slickness he added a second digit and slid in and out of her as he settled on his belly. He flicked at her cunt as he fingered her and the delighted American lifted her bottom off of the bed by a clear inch.
"'Tis heavenly!"
As she was probed and licked her hands became two fists and grabbed big bunches of the sheet beneath her. Her legs weakened as Alphonse increased his tongue action and lapped at the precise spot where her clitoris hid away.
"MMMMM!" she moaned as the intense darts of his expert tongue drove her into a frenzy.
He held her legs by the thighs and pinned them flat out as he ate her cunt as fast as he could.
"I...am...want...to...ah!"
Rachel pushed her head back and moaned as she came and her heart galloped in her chest. She looked sideways at the mirror that ran along the bed and watched enthralled as the handsome Frenchman came between her legs and teased her entrance with his steely cock.
"Oh, my!"
He sank in deep inside her dampness and as he thrust up all his weight settled on her. Her hands cupped his face as she grew accustomed to his thick organ and she bent her legs at the knees. His chest mashed her breasts as his hips rose and fell in a slow but assured fuck. Each time he drove in he paused and drew out almost entirely before pushing back into the hilt. Rachel had not been fucked this way ever since the first time when she had been seduced by the local lothario after a drunken summer night.
"Cheri, you are beautiful."
Miss Irene smiled opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling mirror to view the erotic sight of her lover atop of her. His back was magnificent and his butt was tight and muscular. He felt heavy on her but it was a good sensation and she wallowed in the touch of his flesh on hers. Which was when she noticed the most curious thing.
He had some words written on his ass cheeks! As she bounced beneath the rutting man she tried to read the message. Of course not only was it in French but back to front and upside down!
'Etrat al ed tse'c.'
Or...
'C'est de la tarte.'
"AH, it is as easy as pie. All done with mirrors, indeed!"
His thrusting became more urgent now as his hips became a blur as he hammered her into the mattress. Rachel saw the tendons in his neck strain and his biceps flex as she held him in tightly in her arms and legs. Then he cried out and snapped his head back as he pulled out of her gaping cunt and painted her belly and tits in hot bursts of cum that arced up high over her. He collapsed on top of her and they became glued to each other in a mix of sweat and sperm.
"Miss Irene! Miss Irene!"
The voice of Scarlett Holmes could be heard outside and Irene lifted the panting fellow off of her and padded to the door.
x
Scarlett had earlier found the section of the club up the back stairs where the bordello was supposed to be and perceived ten numbered green doors. As she and Rachel had agreed in their prior plan the blonde would enter room seven. Without any apprehension, she opened the door and entered. There, in a long corridor, were two lines of stalls, three on each side. The only illumination was the red lights above each stall. Giddy with excitement Scarlett saw one light begin to blink and a small round slot opened about waist high and a male member poked through the aperture.
"Ah, a junk drawer. How amusing."
"We do not know your identity, Mademoiselle. Therefore to complete the test and find the clue you seek you must bring this cock to ejaculation. All will be revealed then, and only then."
A disembodied voice echoed in the corridor as Scarlett saw a semi-hard cock slowly enter the hole and twitch for attention.
"A most singular challenge, to be sure."
The sleuth reached out and felt the warm member and instantly it began to stiffen. She began to pump the thick shaft in her right glove and studied the swollen pink tip. There appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary there and so presumed it was the shaft that concealed a clue. As she rubbed the head with thumb and forefinger she could resist no longer and took the glans between pursed lips.
'Agh!"
Hidden behind the screen the male prostitute moaned as Scarlett slid around the crown and explored the sensitive ridge with her long tongue. The man bumped against the flimsy wall between the two of them as he reached full erection. Again Scarlett stopped and gazed at the seven-inch throbbing organ and fingered the veins and bumps, all the way down the exposed length.
"Merde!"
Scarlett wrapped her lips tightly around the top half of the pulsing cock. With half his length inside her wet mouth, she flicked at the underside as she sucked hard. With deep and slow bobs of her head, his shaft became lathered with her saliva and the vibrations she sent along his length produced more and more urgent groans from the obscured male. She relaxed her jaw and took more and more of him into her mouth until the spongy cock head pressed at the back of her throat. Scarlett sucked her cheeks in and created a vacuum she pulled back and let him out a pop.
