Spy Swap, Part 1 (Special Agent to Hot Spy Girl TG) (Patreon)

Very excited to start this one! As you could tell from Meteor Woman, I'm a big fan of DC Comics-style heroes. Now, enjoy one of my other loves: James Bond spy stories!

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Al

Finn Langston is the best of the best, a dashingly handsome secret agent who always saves the world and always gets the girl. But when he is called upon by The Agency to infiltrate the private island of Sebastian Whitlock, a devious playboy industrialist who may be angling for world domination, Finn meets his greatest challenge yet: being turned into a raven-haired spy beauty to seduce Whitlock, and find out what he is planning. But the new and beautiful Fiona may find her cover going far, far deeper than she could have imagined . . .
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Part 1: Dr No, No Way!

The helicopter exploded, but Finn was no longer upon it. The air rushed past him as he fell. There was little time. Already, the gorgeous Irena Kupliana was looping in the air, screaming for dear life. The gorgeous scientist normally had her hair up, but the villainous Commander Kremel had forced her into a gorgeous slinky dress when he’d kidnapped her before setting off the nukes.

Of course, Finn Langston had already disabled the nuclear weapon, and Commander Kremel had been on the helicopter just now when it had exploded.

So the day was saved, and all that was left was to save the girl, too.

Finn dove, arcing his body as he descended rapidly, nearly hitting maximum velocity as he sped to the screaming woman. She tossed and turned in the air, all limbs, but even in this moment of pure adrenaline the secret agent had to admire her perfect skin, and the way the slits on her dress showed off her fine porcelain legs. 

Focus, Finn. Playtime later. And there will be a playtime later.

He grinned to himself, spreading out his arms and legs to slow his speed. He caught Irena expertly. She clung to him, breathing tightly, but he was already clipping her into his belt and holding her tight.

“No matter what happens, don’t let go of me!” he yelled.

The brunette beauty nodded again and again, still looking with desperation at the ascending ground of the Alaskan seaboard. Finn pulled the rip chord, and there was a hard yank. Their velocity slowed as an enormous parachute opened up above them, and soon they were descending at a far safer speed.

“Finn!” she declared, holding him, still trembling with terror. “I didn’t think you would come for me.”

“Oh, that’s not showing enough faith, my dear,” he said easily, flashing his trademark smile. “You should know after that lovely night in Vienna that I always come for you.”

It wasn’t his best pun by far, but it was enough to make her relax and cling to him, giggling with relief. He continued to steer the parachute gently, focusing on a particular spot. He knew this geography fairly well from his earlier encampment when looking for the renegade Russian commander’s illegal Alaskan base, and during that time he’d spotted something else rather slyly. He glided them down to it now.

“Oh, Finn. I’m so happy you came back. I - I should never have doubted you.”

  “Well, you did a fine job distracting Kremel at the right time. I’ve always said that a woman in heels is not to be underestimated.”

She laughed again, but worry showed on her face. “Where shall we go? We’re far from any contact, and we’ll freeze to death out here if we don’t get rescue.”

Finn put out his legs and expertly ran them along the ground, pulling to a stop along the icy Alaskan ground. Irena didn’t even have to adjust her legs; he had the tall part of tall, dark and handsome down pat. Well, he had all those features down pat, really.

Just wait till she sees this, he thought to himself. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, my dear,” he said, unclipping them from the parachute pack. “For one, I’ve already activated the alert to get the Agency chopper to come pick us up in, oh, say about half an hour?”
 Her bright blue eyes went wide. “That’s much too long!” she said in her cute Greek accent. “It’s freezing here!”

But Finn just held up a hand. “On the contrary, it may be too short.” He began unzipping his top, revealing his perfect upper torso to the cold, frigid air.

“What are you doing?”

“That’s the other thing,” he said, beginning to lose his boots. “You see, I’ve landed us in just the right spot. Have you ever enjoyed a natural hot spring, Irena?”

“N-no.”

“Would you like to? Perfect for couples, I hear. Very warm. Very . . . up close.”

He gestured to the hot spring that was just thirty or so feet away, one that looked perfectly sized for some intimacy. Irena’s jaw fell, but once she reassured control over it she bit her lip, excitement clearly building on her face.

“Well, Mr Langston, you are quite daring, aren’t you?”

“What can I say, Irena, I do my part for King and Country . . . but once the mission’s done, the rest of me belongs to you.”

“In a hot spring?”

“I’ve always had a certain . . . affection, for hot springs myself. Perhaps it’s just the company I keep in them.”

Irena was no longer biting her lip. She was now grinning openly. With one hand, she began to lower the zipper on the back of her dress, exposing more of the wonderful cleavage at her front.

“Perhaps we could . . . disable the signal for just a little longer?” she suggested.

Finn took her hand, leading her to the hot spring. “Actually, I lied. I hadn’t even turned it on yet.”

Giggling, she joined the secret agent in the hot spring. It didn’t take long for the spring to get even hotter.

“Ohhhhh, Finn!”

***

Finn Langston entered the secretarial office for A, the aptly titled codename of the head of the Agency he worked for. As always, the lovely Miss Honey was situated behind her desk, a warm cup of tea in her hands, curls of sweet-smelling steam rising from its porcelain surface. 

I never get sick of the sight of her, he thought. A shame she never became an agent. I wouldn’t mind seeing that shape in a catsuit.

Miss Honey was appropriately named by her parents; her looks could trap any man, but she was also sweet as the tea she drank. Her mocha brown skin was flawless, and her afro was from a different time, vibrant and proud. She favoured bright red lipstick, and on anyone less enthusiastic it might have been too much, but not Miss Honey. She beamed as he entered, her eyebrow already rising with the anticipation of another verbal sparring.

Of course, the physical sparring several weeks ago had been nice also . . .

“Finn! How nice of you to enter my office, and this time without any bloodstains on you!”

He adjusted the tie on his perfectly-fitted suit. “Miss Honey, you know I’d never dare ruin your perfect floors.”

“Tell that to the carpet cleaners from last month.”

“Well, perhaps you’re thinking of one of the other single digit agents. One of the messier ones. I only bring gifts, Miss Honey.”

With that, he drew out a flower from behind his back, one that was - conveniently - blood red.

“A special breed courtesy of our dearly departed Commander Kremel. Non-poisonous, don’t worry.”

She raised an eyebrow. “One would hope, Finn. One would hope. But then one can never know with you; perhaps it’s laced with some kind of compound, the kind intended for beautiful women.”

“Nothing but my own charm is necessary for that, Miss Honey, but you should know that my own skills in that department fail in comparison to your own allure.”
 She beamed, happy to have been bested in their back and forth. She took the flower and placed it in a vase on her desk, then leaned forward so that her perfect face was right before his, their lips on the brink of brushing against one another.

“Oh Finn, even knowing all the . . . adventures you get up to, I can’t help but be pleased to have you here before me.”

“There are many ways of pleasing, Miss Honey, all of which you deserve . . .”

Their lips just managed to brush against one another, only for a sudden buzzer to sound, alerting them both that Finn was expected in A’s office.

“Saved by the bell, Finn,” Miss Honey remarked, drawing back with a smirk on her lovely features.

“Quite the contrary, Miss Honey,” he remarked with a sigh. “You know, next time I won’t buy you a flower. It hardly compares to the rest of the beauty in the room.”

And with that, he took the door into the next room, where a balding older man was smoking a pipe behind a large desk, his expression serious. 

Not nearly as enticing as Miss Honey, but he has his own charm, I suppose.

“Take a seat, Agent Langston,” A said brusquely. “Good work in Alaska by the way. Though the rescue took far longer than expected. Was that truly necessary?”

“I was just fixing up British-Greek relations, sir.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Ah yes, the famous Langston diplomatic manoeuvres. Funny how they only come out around the beautiful women. Would you say you know women particularly well, of that kind?”

“Are you asking professionally sir, or is there trouble at home that may spill into national security.”

He smirked internally at the frown that followed. Don’t go too far, Finn, or one day you won’t get the best missions, even if you are the best agent.

A huffed, drew from his pipe, and then exhaled. “I ask, Agent One, because the forthcoming mission has need of your particular skills in that exact department. Yes, we’ve had you seduce the odd female agent or diplomat before, and God and King and Country knows you extend that seduction to any young beauty that moves in your general direction, but this will call upon all your skills in that area, and in a far more challenging fashion than you have ever known.”

Finn took the seat he was directed too, lounging back easily.

Well, this is interesting, he thought to himself. And not at all unwelcome.

“In that case sir, I can assure you that I am most up to the task. I don’t like to boast as a rule, but I have always had a certain charm when it comes to women, and with that charm comes a strong understanding of what women want, and how they want it. In fact, just a few weeks ago off the Aegean Coast I was with this lovely brunette who-”

“Spare me the details, Agent One!” A said, taking the bait. “I just wanted to hear it from your lips, because you may be the only one left for this job. This is going to be a big one, and I’ll need your full attention.”

“I’m at the ready, sir. All for King and Country.”

“And the ladies, no doubt.”

“They are the fairer half of the country, no doubt.”

A scoffed, suppressing what Finn suspected to be a low chuckle. He then stood and directed Finn’s attention to the map of the world behind his desk. With a gesture, it rose, revealing an animated screen showing the same. Another tap, and a face appeared in a little box like a mugshot, showing a handsome Mediterranean-looking man with a well-trimmed black goatee and a single scar across one cheek. It gave him a dashing, borderline piratical look.

“Sebastian Whitlock,” A said. “Recognise him?”

This is the fun part, Finn though. He relaxed in his chair. “Only a little, I’m afraid,” he said. “If I can recall, he’s a thirty-five year old shipping magnate and industrialist who's been branching out into digital tech and implant technology. Has a few major but hidden stakes in cosmetics and plastic surgery companies, of which he used to frequent to give him his present jawline. Inherited wealth to the tune of some twenty five million, though offshore accounts suggest twice that. Managed to grow that into the tens of billions in the present day. He has several private islands - at least three that we know of - and one of which is located off the shores of Greece. And, if I’m remembering the right Sebastian Whitlock correctly, I rather recall that he has a penchant for beautiful women. Quite a large penchant, in fact, up to and including his own rumoured international harem and bodyguard force. Some say that his favourite private island has him as the only male specimen oftentimes.”

“How much a ‘little’ is these days,” A remarked, “when it comes to your knowledge, Agent One. But your assessment is correct. He is indeed a powerful man, and he does indeed have such a penchant for women, something you both share.”

“Whitlock has always pushed the boundaries of the law, but I’m guessing he’s become a threat in some way?”

“That’s for you to determine,” A said, tapping the screen lightly. It shifted to show a private island, the one off the coast of Greece that Finn had mentioned. “This, is Arcadia. It is Whitlock’s largest and most secretive island, one that used anti-radar and anti-satellite technology to remain absolutely private. This image is five years old. Recently, our sources have shown a great deal of material being shifted to this island, material of a highly technological nature. This has occurred in the immediate aftermath of Whitlock opening up business dealings with several states that are, to put it lightly, in opposition to our interests, democratic and otherwise. Chief among these materials is a device known as the Sword of Damocles. Heard of it?”

“Only in theoretical discussion, sir. A riff on the mythical tale of the same name; the sword that hangs over the heads of all rulers, reminding them of the dangers of their position. Or, in this case, a piece of technology that would serve as the ultimate weapon of intimidation and warfare. A cloaked satellite that is impossible to detect and find, and yet can deliver payloads of terrible magnitude from above, be they nuclear, chemical, or conventional.”

“Once again, your knowledge is on point, Agent One. We believe that Sebastian Whitlock is building a Sword of Damocles, based on a report from Agent Fifty-Three. You remember her?”

I remember her lovely dress, and how she looked out of it.

“Indeed, sir.”

“Well, I’m sorry to inform you that she was killed in action smuggling this intel out to us.”

Finn halted. The room got a bit more tense. A fellow agent being killed made this more personal. He had only known her for one night, but that was immaterial. She was an agent, and that meant she was one of them. 

Damn, she had a bright future. Poor woman.

“I’ll do my best to avenge her, sir.”

“See that you do, but the mission comes first. Agent Fifty-Three was sent to seduce Sebastian Whitlock. With the exception of just a few of his most trusted male associates, it is women only for the island, and so she was deemed appropriate for the mission. But we’ve hit a snag.” A smoked his pipe for a moment, readied himself what he was about to say next. “She was not the first agent to be lost on this mission. Two others - Agents Thirty-Nine and Seven - have both gone missing.”

Seven? They took Cassandra?

She was a delicate beauty, but an expert markswoman and survivalist. The danger of this mission went up another notch, and so did Finn’s desire to take it on. Avenging an agent was already of great importance. Saving two more even more so.

“There’s more bad news,” A said. “Sebastian Whitlock has managed to get access to the entire roll of agents considered for this mission, and not the final selection but the entire preliminary panel. This, in effect, means all suitable female candidates are considered burned for this mission. We don’t know how he received this information, but Agent Fifty-Three managed to communicate this leak to us.”

“Dear God, sir.”

“Indeed,” A nodded. “Which is why we need to turn to the male agents in this desperate hour. To you specifically. You are, and don’t let your head explode over this - our most capable agent, and you have the skills and knowledge of women to adjust to the challenge ahead.”

Finn smiled. “I should hope so sir.”

But something about A’s stare discomforted him. 

“What is it? I’m assuming this is a covert smash and grab mission? Get in, get the agents, get out?”

A shook his head. ”No, this is a full infiltration mission, Agent One. You’ll need to get onto the island and stay there. You’ll need to get close to Whitlock, rescue his captives, and determine the nature of his Damocles design, his ambitions for it - if he is indeed making one - and then put a stop to it so it cannot be used by anyone.”

“But sir, how can I stay on the island like that, get close to Whitlock, if he’ll only be taking on women to the island? I don’t suppose you’re asking me to wear pumps and a dress?”

He smiled with amusement, but the smile faded as A’s expression remained serious.

“That’s exactly what we intend you to do, Agent One. For this mission, we have no choice but to send you in as a woman. Your mission? To seduce Sebastian Whitlock.”

***

Finn was still in a state of disbelief as he was shown what was tentatively called Tiresias’ Cradle. Wrench, a portly man who was head of the Agency’s research and development team, showed him the strange device, which looked to be something out of a science fiction film.

“You’ve got to be joking, Wrench,” Finn said, looking at the central pod which was clearly designed to hold a human being. “You know this is insane, right?”

The larger man cackled, slapping Agent One on the back. “The line between insanity and genius is measured only by success, kid! This is one of our best kept secrets, and one we’ve only just managed to get working recently. She’s a tricky thing, and prone to breakdowns, but we can feed a template in and cause you bodily changes to match our specifications. Of course, you need to re-enter to be changed back.”

“How have I not heard of this?”

The man rubbed his nose. “Only A and I and a few others know about it. It was confiscated after that fiasco in Shanghai several years ago, when you disrupted that arms-dealing conference.”

I remember, he thought. There was one mad scientist type who was particularly dangerous. Dead now, thanks to me, and deservedly too.

“Chang’s work,” he said.

Wrench nodded. “Chang’s work. We don’t really know how to build more, and it requires a cooldown, but this will be its first proper test for a mission. We’re going to take you, and make you into exactly the kind of ‘Langston girl’ that you always end up chasing. The kind Whitlock won’t be able to resist.”

Langston couldn’t help but gulp. “Not exactly the mission I had in mind.”

“Would you rather fail King and Country?”

Langston thought back to his argument with A. It had reached the point of loud shouting. He’d been furious, red in the face, and so had his boss. The sheer indignity of what he was being asked - no, ordered - to do! The embarrassment! The shame! He was going to be unmanned and turned loose as a woman - no doubt a very attractive one - and forced to demean himself. In the end, A had ordered him to return the following day with a clear head. Not even parting words from Miss Honey - who had been listening at the door in her gossipy way - could cheer him up. She’d heard the mission brief, and was trying not to look a bit amused. And like that, some people already knew. But then the ultimate deciding question had been asked when Finn returned the next day, the same one that Wrench was asking now. That, coupled with the desire to keep his country and world safe, and the need to both avenge and rescue fellow agents, had finally tipped him over the edge to going along with the mission.

Looking at the pod now, he was starting to regret that particular choice.

“Do I get to see the template?” he said.

“Just a number of ones and zeroes to you,” Wrench said unhelpfully. “But the end result will be viewable in the mirror, fear not. Plenty of time to get used to the sight of female genitalia and tertiary sexual characteristics before you!”

“Not exactly getting me excited for this, Wrench. I can still hardly believe . . . the sheer gall of . . . ah, nevermind. I’ve already had this argument many times with A. You’d be a poor sparring partner after that. Just tell me when I have to get into this blasted thing so I can get this mission done as quickly as possible and never think of it again.”

“Right now, Agent One,” came A’s voice from behind, stepping into the sealed room which was otherwise intensely private. “The sooner we begin, the better. It’s time you became the perfect agent we need for this mission. Are you ready?”

Finn sighed again. He tried to steel himself, but his anger ran deep. This was not the kind of work he’d signed up for. He’d saved the world several times from major threats, prevented nuclear war more times than he could count, and his reward was having his manhood taken away from him.

“No, sir,” he replied. “No way.”

“You have to be. We need you, Agent One.”

“You need Agent One with long hair and an hourglass figure. But like I said, I’m not ready.”

“Agent One, may I remind you of you oath to-”

Finn held up a hand. “But I’ll do it. So long as I can change back, and have a wonderful holiday after this.”

“Granted,” A said. “And it would be deserved too, provided you succeed.”

“I always succeed A, you know that.” Finn tried to put on a brave face as Wrench gestured for him to get closer to the pod. “Just make sure Wrench here does his part successfully too. I’d hate to lose my manhood permanently. I can think of more than a few women who’d be very sad about that.”

And with that little wry quip to give him extra courage, he stepped up into the pod that Wrench had just opened. Finn Langston, secret agent, was about to suit up in a way he - soon to be she - never had before.

To Be Continued . . .