The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“... 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 picture 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 man 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 men 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 story 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 girls 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 men 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 red 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 shirt 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 breasts 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 blonde 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 breast 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 young 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 young 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 young 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 brunette 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 brunette stood aside and Ursula stepped in to find herself face to face with a tall, dark man 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 young man 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 protege 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 story 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 protege 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.”