It can only have been a matter of seconds, split seconds even that another red light was being used as a focus. This time it was in the courtyard. It was where Sammy had gone for her fresh air. She was sitting on a cast iron bench and her long, long legs were crossed. One might have imagined the rasping sound of nylon on nylon as she crossed her legs. And that was the first point of focus for that night scope. The bobbing foot of the crossed over legs. The zooming silently whirring filling the frame with that severely arched foot in the stiletto pump. Or as the Americans call them, fuck-me-pumps. They were the sort without platforms and yet at the same time with a pencil thin tapering heel. Stilettos that forced the wearer, in this case Sammy onto her very tip toes. She would never be able to tell anyone she was an expert on such lethal shoes. It was clear that she wasn't. It was even clearer that by the end of the night, if the night was going to go to plan, that her feet would be killing her. She would sure as hell be pleased to take those shoes off. The infra-red zoomed in on those arched feet. And it took in the little wrinkle of the stockings where the heel rolled out into the lower calf. And where the shoe just snagged the sheer nylon. And then that scope crept up the leg and to the knee. The bend of the legs and where the legs were crossed. More wrinkles in the stockings. Like little imperfections that added to the provocative sight that were those legs and feet. And the tantalising glimpse of white thigh above black stocking top. The way Sammy was sitting, cross legged, her gymslip dress had ridden up and had exposed her upper legs in that way. It should have been creamy, smooth white thigh that the night vision saw. Instead it was tinged with that red ghosting. But the image was perfect - and it was sharp and contained all the detail needed for those little trembles to creep in. Those little micro second trembles of excitement. But this couldn't have been the same operator surely? This was seconds only since the one inside was watching Justine and Emelia. This could mean that there were more than one of these people. But how could that be? How could there be more than one person in this place unbeknown to everyone at the party? Surely they would be seen. Or spotted. Or passed on the stairs or something? It didn't make sense. It was making less and less sense with every passing minute.

Sammy lit a cigarette. At first she let the unlit cigarette dangle from her deep red lips. She did that as she searched down her waistband for a zip lighter. She found that. But she didn't light the cigarette straight away. Instead she leaned back on the bench and uncrossed her legs. She wasn't particularly careful, or overly lady like in the way she did that because she was there alone. No-one was there to see that white flesh, or the tiny thong that had become more like a cheese grater as it settled between her bottom cheeks and her sex lips. She didn't know that she was being watched. Being watched closely. The cigarette dangling from her lips seemed to give credence to how sluttish she was dressed and that credence seemed to feed the little shake on the night vision as it zoomed and moved and then refocused. Then she lit the cigarette and took a long long drag. She removed it from her mouth and inhaled. Then blew smoke out lazily. Mummy and daddy surely would not approve of the vision that she was offering to the world on this night. But she was eighteen years old for god's sakes. If she couldn't have a little bit of rebellious fun now, when could she?

She recrossed her legs the opposite way this time and twisted her torso to go with them. And she bobbed the other foot. The cold air had flowed around her, around the bulge of her rubbered breasts and she could certainly feel the hardness in her nipples. Like a distinct and very sharp hardness that poked through and almost ripped the micro thin rubber that was shrink wrapping them. She shuddered with the chill but as she did that one, and then the other nipple distorted inside the rubber and she got a sexual tinge from that. Like the invisible cord between girl's clitoris and nipples had been tugged and pulled. She sighed in a deep breath at the same time as taking another drag of the cigarette. She inhaled and her breasts expended and with that expansion another level of distortion to the tightly packed nipples. She shuddered again and tried to tug the hem of the micro dress. That was more out of instinct and realisation of what she was feeling than anything like vain hope that she would actually be able to cover up more.

There wasn't enough of that dress to cover up. There was barely enough of that dress to cover up what she did manage to cover up. The night vision trembled as it took her in. It kept watching then as there was another movement. To the side of the bench. There was a little cluster of bushes, trees and shrubs that was not lit at all and it was in there that there was that movement. One shrub moved and then another. Then a young tree seemed to sway to one side and then there was a form in there. It was a dark form. It was human but one couldn't tell if it was male or female. Just like a form morphing out of the ground. Before it had just been the bushes and the shrubs and the trees. But that form seemed to rise up out of the ground all supernatural like and then it was there. All tall and just to the side of Sammy. She couldn't have heard or seen it because according to the night vision scope she carried on smoking. Carried on recrossing her legs. Subconsciously she was moving, shifting on the bench just to cause that distortion and that pleasure in her nipples. As she did that the nipples came to their most solid erection. Sammy was only eighteen years old - so she wasn't vastly experienced in sexual matters and yet she knew what sex was. She knew at least some of what it was all about. She would never remember having such hard and sensitive nipples before. She would never remember that feeling that the cold night air was creating. Maybe she was just too far gone in that little sexual world to know what was going on around her. The trouble was that the night vision scope picked up everything. Every little tiny thing. It had the benefit over Sammy. She just had normal human vision. She didn't pick up what was in the pitch black shadows. No movement. No sound. What little bit of wind there were around that courtyard might have done their bit to hide the movement of anyone, or anything in those dark places. The operator of the night scope seemed to get more excited with the morphing of the form in the bushes. And then the slight move of that form towards Sammy. Just in little increments. A little bit at a time. The timing between those little trembles of the image stabilisations becoming less and less as the excitement, if that is what it was, increased. That form, that dark form that seemed to be clothed very loosely, dressed and hooded made its way to Sammy very slowly. Very slowly!