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confrontation
Pleasure Cruise - Confrontation
(c) Copyright 2000 by Wiseguy
"... five. Awake and alert now, Annie, calm and confident."
Annie's eyes fluttered open and focused slowly on the face of Mistress
Ursula. She felt calm and at peace, which was unusual in itself for Annie
of late. "Thank you, Mistress," she said gratefully. "I feel much
better."
"I'm glad, my dear. You may still find yourself getting upset or mixed
up for a while yet, sometimes for no apparent reason. When you do, try to
get by yourself and use the relaxation trigger as soon as possible. And
don't lose that phone number I gave you, you may find yourself needing more
help even after you get home."
"I won't, Mistress," Annie promised. "Was I ... helpful?"
Mistress Ursula's face was the of professional reassurance. "Of
course, Annie, you were very helpful."
"I didn't really remember much, I'm afraid."
"You did fine," Ursula repeated. "Suzerain is very good at what he
does, otherwise he wouldn't get away with it for as long as he has."
Annie nodded. "Will he get away with it this time?"
"No," Ursula replied quickly.
Once Annie was gone, leaving Mistress Ursula alone in her stateroom, the
hypno-domme growled softly in frustration. It was all well and good to
tell Annie that the monster who had hypnotized and exploited her and her
friend would not get away with it, but in reality Ursula's hopes of being
able to stop him were growing dimmer by the hour.
She paced the floor of her stateroom for a while in silent thought.
Getting nowhere, she opted for a change in scenery and set out for the aft
portion of the ship, climbing the stairs to the Bahama Deck.
The final authors' panel was just winding down when she arrived. There
were still about two dozen fans in attendance, listening with rapt
attention while the six authors discussed their philosophies on ethics in
mind control erotica. The fans were not shy about expressing their own
opinions, and it made for a lively discussion that everyone seemed to
enjoy. Indeed, it was the quality of the discussion at the first authors'
panel, and the positive feedback from it, which had prompted Toni and Rob
to talk the writers into holding a second, and then today's third, panel.
She tried to enter the terrace quietly so as not to disturb the
conversation, slipping discreetly into a lounge chair in the back. One of
the authors caught her and looked about to speak; she put a finger to her
lips, and he nodded slightly and remained quiet. A member of the audience
noticed the exchange: a plain-looking man, average in build, with a
mustache got up from his seat and approached Mistress Ursula. He slipped
easily into the seat beside her and kissed her hand. "It's good to see you
taking a break," he said quietly.
"I need one," she replied flatly. "Things are not going well, Roger."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Ursula's lips formed a tired smile. "Do you have some time when the
panel is over? I need to use you, if you don't mind."
"You know I'm yours," he replied softly. "Your place or mine?"
"Not that way," Ursula corrected with a chuckle. "Well, not right away
at least. I need a sounding board."
"At your service."
"After the panel closes," she said. "I don't want to disturb them, and
I don't want to attract an audience."
They waited in companionable silence while the discussion panel wound
down. Eventually the crowd began to dissipate, but the sun was shining
brightly on the aft terrace. The discussion panel group was quickly
replaced by a legion of sunbathers.
"My ears are open whenever you want them," Roger said, bringing Ursula
back from a faraway place.
She looked around at the large group lying silently out in the sun.
"Let's walk," she suggested.
They fell into a comfortable ambling pace, heading generally toward the
fore of the ship but with no particular destination in mind. "It's this
Suzerain mess," she began. "I've been working with the victims for a few
days now trying to piece together enough to put him out of business, but
the is proving incredibly slippery. He's got things worked out so well
I don't know if we can touch him."
Roger nodded sympathetically. "How much have you learned so far?"
"We know that Suzerain is the one who trained and encouraged Anton, the
nasty piece of work that was abusing one of Samantha's followers. We know
that Suzerain is a very good hypnotist; good enough that he is able to
hypnotize female volunteers for his magic act and have them cooperate in
his illusions without remembering anything of how they are done. We know
that in the week since his first show he has used four of the six
'volunteers' sexually, although they remember very little about the
experience even when under deep hypnosis."
"How do you know that?"
"We know about Anton because he told me, in trance, that Suzerain was
his mentor. His skill as a hypnotist is apparent from the results he's
gotten. We found out about him using the women by accident: two of the
women have husbands on board with them who tried to get Suzerain to use his
influence on their wives for some kind of sexual game. He double-crossed
them and gave them as playthings to his assistant. One of the threw
his back out trying to perform some kind of sexual gymnastics and had to
see Dr. Anders. She called me in, as well as Samantha, and between us we
got as much of the as the husband remembers. Then we located the
other women and Samantha and I worked with them, trying to see how much
they could remember. The results have been very disappointing -- their
memories are a total jumble in some places and completely blank in others.
Even Rob and Toni haven't been able to get anything from them."
"I see," Roger said. "That's pretty unusual, isn't it? I mean, I know
first hand how effective you can be at clouding memories, but this sounds
extreme."
"It is extreme," Ursula agreed, frowning. "In fact, I'd be willing to
bet my vibrator that he's not doing this with hypnosis alone. He gets
these women so deeply under his thumb, and able to respond to such complex
commands, that he can't possibly be doing it just from the 2-minute
induction on stage. I think he locates his 'volunteers' well ahead of time
and conditions them, probably using drugs to deepen the hypnotic state and
induce the amnesia. Dr. Anders has taken blood samples from the we
know about, but she doesn't have the facilities on board to do a toxicology
screening. Even if she did, it's probably too late now to find measurable
traces in their systems."
"And without that kind of physical evidence," he finished, "you don't
have anything you can take to the authorities."
"Exactly."
"What about the bits that people did remember?"
"Not enough," she said bitterly. "They all remember him striking up a
conversation somewhere on the ship, asking if they'd be interested in
assisting him with his magic act, smooth-talking them into coming back to
his room to discuss it. They remember his assistant fixing them drinks,
and him spinning a silver ball, and then nothing. Their next coherent
memory is hours, sometimes days, later. They don't even remember getting
up on stage for the show in most cases; some recall it very dimly, as a
dream they couldn't wake up from."
"And the abuse?"
"Shreds and snippets. One remembered acting as his personal servant,
hanging around his stateroom naked doing housework, fixing him drinks,
standing by while he talked with visitors. Others have hazy memories of
being taken anally, of being made to suck him, of being stretched out on
the bed spread eagle while several took turns on them, things like
that. The problem is, I had to burrow so deep to get them to remember that
much that I really can't say with certainty that any of it actually
happened."
"Like recovered memory," Roger agreed. "Their subconscious might be
inventing what they think you want to hear."
"And knowing that, no judge would let any of them into the witness box,"
she concluded sourly. "We know there has been sex, some of it pretty
rough, because Dr. Anders has examined them all. Her notes are the only
physical evidence we have, but none of it proves that he's using these
women without their consent."
They strolled in somber silence for a bit before Roger offered a
suggestion. "We don't dock until the day after tomorrow. There's time to
put together a sting of some sort, catch the guy handed."
"No," Ursula ruled firmly. "Even if he was brazen enough to try it this
close to the end of the trip, which I doubt, I won't put someone in that
position."
"We could keep an eye --"
"No, Roger. It's too dangerous." Her voice left no doubt that she would
not be swayed.
"We'll think of something else," he said, trolling feverishly for an
idea. "The assistant might be a weak link, maybe. Or Anton. Maybe we can
find out who he's using now."
"Maybe."
They were meandering down an interior hallway now. Roger recognized it;
they were heading into the first-class stateroom area, where the luxury
cabins were. Their pace slowed, and then came to a stop in front of a door
marked 18.
"We seem to have ended up at your room," Roger observed.
"So we have. Will you come in?"
"Of course."
Behind the closed door, Ursula unzipped the back of her white sundress
and pulled it off over her head. She now wore only a white bikini bottom,
golden sandals, and her jewelry. "Hold me, Roger," she said softly.
Roger was more than happy to comply, stripping off his own before
encircling his distressed Mistress with his arms. His face nuzzled into
the delicious resting place beside her neck. He inhaled deeply through his
nose, relishing the unique scent of Ursula's perfume, then began slowly
massaging the tense muscles around her back and shoulder blades. She
sighed and relaxed in his arms, letting the dresser take some of her weight
as she leaned against it and enjoyed his attentions.
As he rubbed her back, Roger became aware of his body responding
automatically to Ursula's scent and the feel of her pressing into
him. His cock became hard, pressing out against the boxers and Bermuda
shorts he was wearing. Ursula sensed the hardness too. Her hand slid up
behind Roger and grasped the back of his neck, gently but firmly. Roger
felt his body become heavy and sleepy, his mind clouding as a warm blanket
of peace enveloped him. Only his cock was immune, becoming stiffer and
more sensitive as the rest of his body seemed to slow down and go to sleep.
"Thank you, Roger," Ursula whispered into the dazed man's ear. "Talking
with you has helped me to focus. Now I need to put it as far out of mind
as possible for a little while, while my subconscious works out a solution.
You can help me with that, too."
"Please, Mistress," Roger asked on cue, "Let me adore you."
Smiling sensually, Ursula let go of her subject and allowed him to drop
easily to his knees. His nose picked up the extra aroma of her arousal and
he homed in on its source, kissing her mound through the lacey fabric of
her panties. His hands slid up her legs and took hold of the underwear,
pulling it gently down. She lifted her bottom to help him, then settled
down again onto the edge of the dresser and opened her legs for him.
His mind enveloped in a delicious, sensual fog, Roger buried his face in
the thatch of his Mistress and adored her. His tongue played
skillfully over her lips, tasting the nectar that flowed from within and
spreading it around. Ursula encouraged him with her moans, running her
fingers through his hair and clutching occasionally when a particularly
strong jolt of pleasure ran through her. As Roger continued his worship
she leaned further back, putting more weight on the dresser, and lifted her
legs up onto his shoulders to improve his angle. Roger showed his
appreciation by delving deeper into her sex, probing and licking and
sucking, remembering and using all of the things she'd taught him about
herself. And as she felt herself coming closer and closer to the release
she needed, she knew that Roger was also growing more and more aroused by
the results of his work. She closed her eyes and let herself drift into a
light trance, concentrating on the wonderful sensations emanating from her
center, relaxing and giving herself over to the pleasure. She felt the
energy gathering, building, growing, and then in a flash as his tongue
found her clitoris one more time she felt the energy burst forth, flowing
through her entire body like a bolt of lighting. Roger pressed his
advantage, touching her button again and again, keeping his Mistress in
ecstasy for as long as her body could stand, until with another squeeze on
his neck she pulled him away.
Roger kneeled in front of Ursula, his mind still in a dreamy, distant
place but dimly aware that his Mistress was well pleased and would reward
him appropriately. He was happy to wait until she recovered, enjoying the
lingering smell and feel of her essence on his face. Soon she recovered
her breath. "You may get up now, Roger," she said. "Get undressed and lie
down on the bed."
"I obey," his body replied, and in a sleepy daze he removed the rest of
his clothing and climbed onto the bed, lying on his back with his manhood
pointing straight up and ready.
Roger was ready to come, Ursula could tell that by the small drop of
fluid oozing from the tip of his member, but she teased him for a bit
anyway. Making a circle with thumb and forefinger, she worked the circle
up and down his shaft a few times, enjoying watching him shudder and moan
with each pump. "You're ready to come," she told him. "All I have to do
is say the word and you'll come like you've never come before." Roger was
in no condition to respond, or even to consciously understand, but his body
agreed completely. Ursula played with his balls for a while, stroking them
gently in the palm of her hand, playfully tracing the seam between them
with a finger and enjoying his reaction. Roger's hips flexed up and down,
desperate for release, but unable to climax without Ursula's permission.
Finally she climbed up on top of him, guiding his stone-hard penis into
her and easing down over top of it. Roger felt her weight come to rest on
him and his hips surged forward to meet her, a groan escaping from his
lips. Ursula let him rock, riding him smoothly, then pulled him up by the
neck and brought his mouth up to a breast. He latched on immediately and
suckled, moaning softly underneath her. The feel of him at her was
something she loved, and she let him go this way for a minute until she was
ready to come again as well. As she felt her orgasm beginning, she took a
deep breath. "Come now, my pet," she said, and Roger's body responded
dramatically. His back arched, bringing him away from her breast, and his
cock jerked and fired repeatedly. His eyes flew open and found Ursula's,
joining their souls as tightly as their bodies as they rode their orgasms
through.
When it was over, Ursula eased off of Roger and snuggled down next to
him, again pulling his head to a breast. "Sleep now, Roger," she said, and
willed herself to do the same.
The dinner crowd had thinned in the dining hall by the time Ursula and
Roger put in their appearance. They made their way easily to the usual
table, where their usual companions were nursing after-dinner drinks and
enjoying the entertainment.
"There you are," said Dr. Elsa Anders, noting with a grin the well-laid
look of her new companions. "We were getting ready to organize a search
party."
"I'm touched," Roger retorted in mock sincerity as he pulled out a chair
for Ursula.
"Yes," the doctor replied, "but we love you anyway."
Roger was about to offer a return jest but his eye fell on a tall, dark
figure hovering near the bar. His face grew hard as he studied the flowing
black hair and the piercing eyes, which were currently focused intently on
a pretty woman who was sitting at the bar. Dr. Anders followed
Roger's gaze and her own face turned grim.
"That's him," she confirmed. "The bastard is enjoying himself, trolling
for new recruits."
Ursula looked up sharply. "New recruits? Why?"
"He's performing again tomorrow night," the doctor informed her. "It
was just posted on the schedule this afternoon."
"That means he's going to need some volunteers," Roger observed.
Ursula pushed her plate away and stood up. "Doctor, would be you lend
me your pager for a little while?"
Puzzled, the doctor handed over the small black box from her belt. "I
suppose so. Why?"
"I have an idea I need to pursue," Ursula said. "I'll be back in a
little bit. If Suzerain leaves the dining hall, page me."
"All right."
Mistress Ursula reappeared just over an hour later, a triumphant grin on
her face.
"What is it?" Roger asked immediately. "You look as though you've
checkmated Kasparov."
"Maybe I have," she replied obliquely. "What has our quarry been up
to?"
"Getting very frustrated," the doctor said. "He's chatted up several
promising ladies over there, but just as they seem to be falling
nicely under his spell some kind of loud noise or disturbance seems to
erupt nearby. Poor Hank is having a very rough night behind the bar, it
seems."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Ursula said, looking quite pleased to hear it.
They watched together as Suzerain made one more attempt at the bar. He was
speaking with a pretty blonde, his eyes boring into her. The girl's
back was to the onlooker's table, but they could tell by the slumping of
her shoulders that she had begun to relax under the magician's gaze. Then,
just as her head was beginning to nod, a loud POP! startled everyone at
the bar and a white projectile struck Suzerain in the face. The magician
bellowed in pain and surprise then turned and glared menacingly at the
bartender, who was holding a just-opened bottle of champagne.
"Imbecile!" Suzerain hissed venomously. "What the hell do you think you
are doing?"
Hank the bartender looked mortified. "I'm very sorry, sir," he
stammered. "Please forgive my carelessness. May I get you an ice pack for
your cheek?"
"What you can get is out of here!" The magician turned back to his prey,
but she was now fully alert and more than a little dismayed at his display
of wrath. She excused herself and scurried off. Suzerain muttered
something under his breath and stalked away in the opposite direction.
Hank poured three flutes of champagne as Ursula, Roger and the doctor
came over to the bar. He handed each a glass. "Somebody's got to drink
this," he confessed. "It seems I made a small mistake -- nobody ordered
champagne, just Perrier."
"You're a true genius, Hank," Roger commended. "What can we do to thank
you?"
Hank scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "when
the Captain hears about this I may need one of you to hypnotize him into
letting me keep my job."
Ursula pulled the bartender across the bar and kissed him full on the
lips. "Hank," she promised him, "you have nothing to worry about. I'll
take care of the Captain if necessary."
At ten the next morning, Mistress Ursula knocked on the door to
stateroom 11, just a few doors away from her own first-class room. A tall,
sinewy opened the door.
"Is Mr. Drake available?" Ursula asked. Seeing the puzzled look on the
woman's face, Ursula clarified. "Mr. Herbert Drake? This is his cabin,
isn't it?"
"Yes," replied a deep male voice from within. "Please come in."
The stood aside and Ursula stepped in to find herself face to
face with a tall, dark dressed in black. He had long, jet-black hair
tied into a ponytail and brown eyes so dark they, too, seemed black.
"Please excuse Darlene's confusion," he said smoothly. "Only the passport
office and the motor vehicle bureau insist on using that name; to everyone
else, I am Suzerain."
"'A feudal lord, to whom fealty was due', according to my dictionary,"
Ursula quoted. "It suits your stage persona quite well."
The magician smiled gracefully. "A small conceit, which few notice.
And you are Mistress Ursula, yes?"
"My real name, as it happens," she confirmed.
In dramatic fashion, Suzerain bowed and kissed Ursula's hand. "To what
do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"I've been wanting to meet you for some days now," she replied. "Your
friend Benjamin Hammond had some very interesting things to say about you."
"Who?" he asked innocently, but Ursula's keen eye caught the quickly
suppressed glint of recognition.
"Benjamin Hammond," she repeated. "The who was calling
himself Anton, and who has been recovering from an unfortunate sunbathing
accident since late last week. He tells me you are his mentor."
"Ah, Anton," Suzerain said, as if just making the connection. "A
disappointment, to be sure. Please, come sit. Perhaps I can offer you a
drink?"
"It's a little early, thank you," Ursula remarked, taking a seat in a
comfortable easy chair.
"Some tea, perhaps?" he offered. When Ursula nodded, he turned to the
brunette. "Darlene, please pour some of your wonderful tea for Mistress
Ursula."
"You'll be having some too, of course?" Ursula inquired.
"Of course," he replied suavely.
Darlene walked over to the dressing table, on which Ursula saw a small
drip coffee machine with a pot of translucent liquid steaming in the
carafe. She couldn't see the girl's hands, but watched her back as she
poured two mugs, stirred them slightly, and brought them over. She handed
one to Ursula and one to Suzerain.
Ursula took a full first sip of her tea. "This is very good," she
remarked. "Perhaps just a touch bitter. What kind of tea is it?"
"A custom blend," Suzerain replied, enjoying a generous taste from his
own mug. "Premium tea leaves combined with various herbs designed to be
soothing and healthful. I can give you the address of the shop in New
York, if you wish."
"Perhaps later. I'd really prefer to discuss Anton."
"Of course," he conceded. "I don't really know him that well, I must
confess. We had an email correspondence, which began a few months ago
after he saw me perform in Reno. He asked about hypnosis training, and I
recommended a good program to him. Periodically he would email me with
questions about my technique and I would advise him. He said he wanted to
become a stage hypnotist. I recommended this trip to him as a way to study
the methods of a number of the best professionals, like yourself. I had no
idea he was using his new skills in such an unconscionable way."
Ursula nodded, taking some more tea. "I'm sure you realize that this
Anton has given a rather different account of your relationship. He claims
that you actively encouraged him to learn hypnosis as a means to sexual
conquests, and that you have given him valuable advice and encouragement to
that end."
"I suspected as much," the magician said with a sigh, studying the tiny
bits of residue at the bottom of his mug. "It seems I misjudged the boy.
He is clearly unwilling to accept the consequences of his own actions, and
seeks to avoid them by using me as a scapegoat. But I don't quite
understand how this became your concern."
Ursula put down her empty cup. "I became involved when Mistress
Samantha asked for my help in separating your protégé from his victim," she
explained, a hint of cold steel creeping into her voice. "I became more
involved when Dr. Anders approached me with the problem of Brian and Annie
Williams, who told me as much as they could remember about their encounters
with you. Brian's led me to locate Cherle and Trini, who also seem
to have large lapses in memory when they are around you." Ursula stopped
and blinked heavily a few times, appearing to stifle a yawn. "You've been
a very bad boy," she concluded.
Suzerain watched Ursula's body language closely. She seemed to be
relaxing into the chair, her face softening even as her voice hardened.
His lips curled into a predatory smile that was almost a sneer. "Perhaps I
have, my dear," he allowed. "Then again, perhaps we are simply talking
about people who have been under hypnosis and who are enjoying the fantasy
that they have given up control, that they have been made to perform sex
acts against their will and then their memories erased to cover it. This
is, after all, a hypnoerotic cruise -- isn't that the classic hypnoerotic
fantasy? To be dominated, controlled, coerced into doing things that they
secretly long to do, but without having to take responsibility for the
result?"
Ursula was visibly wilting now. Her eyes stared drowsily across at
Suzerain, blinking heavily and slowly and often. Her mouth fell open and
it seemed as though it was taking a great deal of effort to keep her head
upright.
Suzerain relaxed, satisfied that his prey was well cornered, and pressed
his advantage. "You see, Ursula, they got nothing more than what they
secretly wanted all along: to relax; to let go; to give in to the soothing,
seductive sounds of my voice; to let me guide them to a level of ecstasy
they've never known before. Even now, Ursula, you feel the draw of that
promise, the irresistible lure of submission. Your eyes are becoming
heavy, so heavy, wanting so much to close and just listen to my voice, obey
my commands. You may not have realized it, Ursula, but that is exactly
what you want."
"No," Ursula murmured weakly, shaking her head, trying to force her eyes
to remain open.
"Yes," he countered smoothly. "Even now you are falling under my spell,
Ursula. Do not resist. You can't resist anyway; your cup of tea contained
an extra ingredient, a powerful hypnotic agent, which even now is making
you sleepy, drowsy, ready to submit totally to my will. Your body is
heavy, Ursula, heavy and slow, it is too difficult to move it, too
difficult to get up, too difficult to protest or resist me any further.
You are mine."
As Suzerain spoke, Ursula seemed to lose her battle with the chemicals
in her bloodstream. Her eyes closed and her head dropped to her chest. A
long, slow breath seemed to mark her surrender.
Suzerain smiled again, a wicked, self-satisfied smile as he admired his
work: Ursula, the master hypnotist, the ultimate domme, completely under
his control. He began to contemplate what he would have her do for him.
First, he decided, she would strip for him, debasing herself for his
pleasure. He might even photograph her in the process; she had a nice
enough body to be worth a few pages in his private scrapbook. Then he
would avail himself of her various orifices, taking her at his leisure.
Perhaps he would even bring her up to Anton and offer him a little payback,
if he was up to it.
As he thought about the fun he would have with his new toy, he noticed
that he had sunk down rather deeply into his chair. He started to get up,
to resettle himself, but his arms and legs seemed leaden and didn't want to
move. With a great effort, he lifted his head and looked over to find
Darlene. His vision seemed to move in slow motion, like a badly focused
home movie. He became aware of a buzzing sensation, and of a great
heaviness enveloping his mind. His eyes finally found Darlene and saw her
glaring down at him with a look of triumph. "I think he's feeling it now,"
she said, her voice sounding hollow, as if she were on a cheap
speakerphone.
The drugged magician's head swung around, slowly, to face the seat
opposite. Ursula had risen from her chair and was standing over him, her
eyes wide awake and full of purpose. Her hand took his head and tilted it
as she examined his face. "His pupils are dilated and slow," she assessed,
"and his gross motor skills look depressed. I'd say you're right."
Suzerain tried to speak, but his tongue was clumsy and couldn't form
words. Ursula saw the attempt and guessed at his question.
"While you were in the dining hall trolling for fresh victims," she
explained, "I found your companion here and had a heart-to-heart with her.
When I told her about what your little protégé had done and what you had
been doing she admitted to everything, including her complicity in the
scheme, and asked me to help her escape from you. It seems she's been on
the receiving end of your sickening attentions a few times too often,
Herbert. So in return for her cooperation this morning, my friends and I
are going to help her make the break from you permanently."
Barely intelligible words came thickly from Suzerain's mouth. "Whuh ...
you ... do ..."
"What will we do with you?" the hypno-domme finished for him. "Probably
far less than you deserve. By rights I should drag you around this ship
and offer your services as a sex toy to anyone who wants it, but frankly I
haven't the stomach to spend that much more time with you. I'd like to
hand you over to the law, but I can't do that without handing Darlene over
as well, and she's persuaded me not to do that. Instead, we're simply
going to keep you here, giving you some more tea every six hours or so to
keep you nice and cooperative, and make sure you don't have contact with
any more passengers. Security officers will escort you off the ship after
we dock, and I will do my best to see to it that you are not invited to
perform anywhere again."
Ursula looked to Darlene and nodded. "He's all yours," she said, and
slipped out the doorway.
Darlene looked at the dazed figure of her boss in the chair with an
expression of unbridled malice. "I may not have your skill as a
hypnotist," she hissed to the helpless man, "but with that dope in your
system I really don't have to. You'll obey me because you have no will to
resist. And I'm not as inclined to be easy on you as Mistress Ursula is.
In fact, I think you're going to have to answer for all the times you've
mind-fucked me into being your personal sex toy. I want you to get out of
that chair now, Suzerain, and undress for me. Do it slowly..."
"So that's it?" Roger asked incredulously after Ursula told him the
tale. They were seated at the dinner table with Dr. Anders and their
friends Rob and Toni. "You're going to try and get him blackballed,
nothing else?"
"Well," she confessed, "Maybe a little more. My accomplice seemed to
have a bit of retribution on her mind when I left which I'm sure he won't
enjoy, assuming he remembers it. I also had a nice little talk with the
Captain. When our friend disembarks tomorrow, several representatives of
the Drug Enforcement Administration will be waiting for him. His luggage,
and his person, will be subject to an extremely thorough search for illegal
controlled substances."
"How thorough?"
"The Captain assures me that the DEA takes these things very seriously,"
she answered with a sly grin. "Herbert is likely to spend quite some time
in the company of their agents. They will know him inside and out before
the day is done."
The doctor chuckled appreciatively. "Even if they don't find anything,
there's a certain poetic justice in that," she remarked. "Well done."
"Thank you," Ursula replied. "And now if you'll excuse me, I need to
prepare for a show. It seems the originally scheduled act had to cancel at
the last minute, and I've agreed to substitute."
-wg 5/10/00