The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Then you understand what we want?” The nondescript man in the dark business suit regarded the woman facing him across the expensive desk carefully.

“I believe so, yes.” Dr. Kara Pendleton looked back at him coolly. A faint smile flickered across her features.

“You come highly recommended, Doctor,” the business-suited man observed. “Several of our major contributors tell us you’ve been . . . helpful . . . to them in the past. But you’ve never taken on quite this sort of assignment, have you?” At Dr. Pendleton’s nod, he asked, “Are you certain you can do this?”

“I can,” the hypnotherapist answered in a confident voice. “Given the opportunity to work with—the individual in question—I should be able to achieve the results you’re looking for within the required time frame.” She laughed. “Particularly if the material you’ve shown me on him is accurate. My methods always work more easily if I can play on a pre-existing aspect of my patient’s personality.”

Her visitor barked laughter of his own. “Oh, it’s for real, all right. The only problem is, the bastard’s always been too clever to let himself actually get caught with his pants down. So to speak.”

“And of course, you want proof.” Dr. Pendleton nodded again. “Something he can’t deny or explain away.”

“Exactly.” The anonymous man reached into his jacket and pulled out a letter-size brown envelope with an intricate logo on the front. “Here. This is a formal invitation to a function your target will be attending tomorrow evening. Do you think you’ll be able to get the ball rolling there? I understand it’s not the usual setting in which you work.”

Dr. Pendleton took the envelope and considered the matter before replying. Finally she said, “Yes, I think it can be managed. You’re quite correct, it’s not what I’d consider ideal conditions, but I think I see how to work around it.” She smiled. “Now, as to payment.”

“We’ve deposited the first half of your fee as requested,” her visitor said. “You can call the bank tomorrow morning to verify the transaction.”

The doctor nodded. Tomorrow would be soon enough. After all, if there were any problem, she needn’t carry out her part of the deal until it was resolved. “That will do.”

“Then our business is concluded.” The dark-suited man turned to leave. “We’ll be in touch.”

Without another word, he left the doctor’s private office.

Dr. Pendleton rubbed her hands together in excitement. Now this was a challenge! And, if she succeeded, the biggest payoff she’d ever gotten from the unique sideline practice she ran along with her conventional therapy work.

She picked up the expensive valise resting against her desk, opened it and put the envelope inside.

Senator Harry Stagg enjoyed these political dinners. A vigorous fifty-year-old with a handsome face, a thick shock of graying brown hair and a gregarious manner, he got along well with party regulars and ordinary people alike.

But then, he reflected, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be where I am now, would I?

It was true enough. His native state of Wyoming usually didn’t loom large in presidential politics—or in the Senate either, he admitted to himself. A politician from a small state like his own had to make a lot of friends all over the country to have a serious shot at his party’s nomination. And Senator Stagg did have a serious shot; according to the pundits, he was the man to beat this year. All he had to do was not screw up.

Stagg grinned. He knew he wasn’t perfect. Lots of people knew, or at least suspected, he wasn’t. He liked the ladies; despite having been married for over ten years, he’d had his share of flings. There were always good-looking women around who were receptive to the idea. If anything, there were even more now that he was a contender for the White House. Who was it—Henry Kissinger?—who’d called power the ultimate aphrodisiac?

So far, at least, none of these episodes had become public. As far as he knew, even his wife remained ignorant of them. Perhaps she simply didn’t want to know. Once in a while, he felt a stab of guilt over the way he was abusing her trust. He’d never felt guilty enough to confess, though. That would have blown up their marriage—and despite his fooling around, he genuinely loved Marian. The closest he’d come to admitting his infidelities had been in the naming of his private yacht, now tethered at a Georgetown marina. He’d called it Indiscretions, gently mocking the rumors which had popped up despite every precaution he’d taken.

He caught sight of a familiar blonde and his grin widened. Dana Wheatley looked spectacular in the gleaming red sheath and ivory-white pumps she was wearing tonight. Her looks had inevitably inspired a fresh round of speculation, which happened to be true: his new secretary was his latest squeeze.

“She’s very striking, isn’t she?” The rich feminine voice was knowing.

Startled, Senator Stagg jerked his eyes away from Dana’s curves toward the speaker.

He whistled softly. She wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Five-eight, somewhere in her thirties, with lush curves of her own that the professional-looking outfit she had on accentuated, if anything, rather than concealed. Honey-blonde hair was piled atop her head in a large bun, and cool blue eyes regarded him with amusement from behind tortoiseshell-rimmed cat’s-eye glasses.

“Er, yes,” Stagg stammered. Somehow, this woman put him off balance.

It didn’t help that he’d instantly been attracted to her. Stagg was uncomfortably aware of a tingling in his groin. Not here, he scolded himself silently. With an effort, he refocused. “Would you like a drink?”

“God, yes!” The woman laughed.

Stagg led her to one of the refreshment tables. She selected a glass of wine. After a moment, he followed suit.

They started talking.

“I know who you are, of course,” the woman said. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Dr. Kara Pendleton. I’m a psychotherapist.” She paused for a beat. “Some people are bothered by that. They think I’m analyzing them all the time.”

Stagg snickered. “I get the same thing. Only with me, they think I’m trying to figure how to snow them into supporting me politically.” Sometimes it was true, he thought but didn’t say.

The bespectacled blonde laughed.

They kept on. Several drinks later, Dr. Pendleton looked at Stagg and announced, “This place is too noisy. And I could do with a smoke.” She watched the Senator for any sign that this revelation had put him off. Seeing none, she asked, “Is there anyplace more private around here we could go?”

“Sure,” the Senator responded. Just as Kara had hoped, the drinks had lowered his guard. “We can’t disappear for long or my security detail will start getting antsy, but I know a place.” He guided her discreetly out of the big dining area and down a corridor to a small unoccupied lounge. “I’ve visited here before, on fundraising business for the Party, so I know this convention center.”

“Perfect,” the doctor murmured. For her purposes, it was: a small glass-topped table, several comfortable chairs and a big, plush sofa. A clean ashtray sat on the tabletop. Kara sat on the couch and motioned for Stagg to sit as well. He did.

The therapist took a pack of expensive cigarettes out of her jacket pocket, lit one with an elegant lighter and inserted it into a fancy cigarette holder. She took a drag and exhaled. “Ahhh, yes. I needed that.”

Stagg smiled. “I know the feeling. I used to smoke myself.”

Kara smiled back. The Senator didn’t know it, but he’d just given her the perfect opening. “Then you appreciate how relaxing it is.” She inhaled again and puffed another small cloud of smoke upward.

“Yes.” Stagg’s eyes followed the smoke.

“You breathe in the smoke,” Kara said, “let it swirl in your lungs, and breathe it out again, and it’s so relaxing.” Puffff. “So very relaxing.”

“Yes.” The Senator nodded, eyes following the wisps of smoke spiraling upward. He settled against the couch cushions.

“You breathe it in, and breathe it out,” puffff, “and each breath helps relax you just a little more.”

Stagg nodded. “Yes. In and out.”

“That’s right,” Kara said. “In and out. In . . . and out. In . . . and out. . . .” Each repetition of that phrase was accompanied by a fresh exhalation of pungent tobacco smoke.

“In . . . and out.” The Senator was breathing with her now, as his eyes continued to follow the smoke. “In . . . and out.”

“It’s so relaxing.” Kara had begun gently moving her cigarette holder back and forth between puffs, letting little bright flashes reflected from the overhead lights bounce off its polished surface into Senator Stagg’s eyes. “After a while, you just want to melt into the smoke, drift away with the smoke. Yes.”

“Yes. . . .” It was a murmur.

“You’re so relaxed, you just want to close your eyes and melt into the smoke, drift away with the smoke.”

Stagg’s eyelids fluttered. He struggled to keep them open.

“No, no,” insisted the therapist. “Don’t fight it. Your eyes are so tired, you’re so tired, we came here to get away for a few moments to relax, go ahead and relax. Close your eyes Melt into the smoke. Drift away with the smoke.”

Stagg closed his eyes. He sighed and sagged deeper into the couch.

“that’s right,” Dr. Pendleton instructed. “So relaxed. It feels so good. Your eyes are closed. But you can still see the swirling smoke, can’t you, and the shiny reflections from my cigarette holder.”

“Yes.”

“When you answer me, call me Dr. Pendleton. Do you understand, Senator?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton,” Stagg responded meekly.

“Now just relax into the smoke, drift with the smoke, Senator, and listen to me. You know I’m a doctor, and you can trust me, so just relax, drift with the smoke and listen to me.”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton,” Senator Stagg sighed.

Kara examined the man beside her on the sofa. Yes, he was under; just as she’d expected, fatigue and alcohol had made him an easy subject.

“Talk to me, Senator,” she ordered. “I’ve heard the rumors, and I saw that blonde you were looking over. Who is she?”

Stagg mumbled, “Secretary. My secretary. Dana . . . Wheatley.”

“She’s very, ah, decorative. Are you two . . . close . . . outside of the office?”

Stagg hesitated. Kara encouraged him: “You can tell me, Senator. I’m a doctor. Think of yourself as my patient. A doctor never reveals a patient’s secrets.”

Normally, Harry Stagg would have refused. Drifting peacefully in the place to which Kara’s suggestions had led him, he didn’t. He smiled a masculine smile and answered, “Yes, Dr. Pendleton. We’re dating.”

“Are you sleeping together?” Again Stagg paused, and Kara reminded him, “Remember, I’m a doctor. Whatever you tell me is just between us.”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.” Eyes still closed, Stagg nodded. “We are. She’s great in bed.” His smile widened into a grin.

“Does anyone know?” Kara was pretty sure of the answer, but wanted to see Stagg’s reaction just the same.

“No!” A slight frown creased the Senator’s face. “No one’s . . . s’posed to know. It would be . . . bad. It’d ruin . . . my run for the presidency. And my . . . marriage.”

The order in which he’d put those items wasn’t lost on the therapist. This was a career politician for sure.

Actually, she was almost certain Stagg was kidding himself. His bodyguard detail, if no one else, had to know what was going on. Perhaps, though, he was so used to them as just part of the background that he simply didn’t think of them.

It probably didn’t matter. If they were that unobtrusive, they’d be no obstacle to her.

Looking at her helpless subject, she sighed. It was a pity, but she wouldn’t have time for any serious fun and games with him this session.

“We need to get back to the others, Senator,” she told him. “In a little bit, I’m going to wake you up. When I do, you’ll feel relaxed and refreshed. You will not remember me putting you to sleep, or our conversation while you were asleep. You will remember only that we went off together for a little while to get away from the crowd. Do you understand, Senator?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.”

“Very good, Senator.” The therapist reached over to brush Stagg’s hair lightly with her fingers. “Now before I wake you up, I’m going to give you some instructions. You will not remember them when you wake up, but you will do as I ask, even though you don’t remember. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.” Slowly, slowly, the Senator nodded. “I won’t remember . . . but I’ll do as . . . you ask.”

“That’s right.” Dr. Pendleton continued rhythmically stroking the Senator’s thick hair. “Now listen carefully. Here is what I want you to do.” Speaking slowly and carefully, she gave Stagg the suggestions she wanted him to obey.

When she was finished, she looked at him and asked, “Do you understand all that, Senator, and will you obey? Repeat my instructions if you understand and will obey them.”

Stagg parroted the Doctor’s commands in a low monotone, word for word.

“Very good, Senator.” The devious doctor smiled. “Now I’m going to wake you up. Before I do, you must tell me where you’re staying. Tell me now.”

The Senator complied, giving her the name and address of his hotel. “Suite 14A,” he finished.

“When will you be going back to your suite?”

Stagg replied that he expected to be there by eleven.

“Very good, Senator.” Dr. Pendleton smiled wider. “I’m going to visit you. When I arrive, you will let me in. If anyone asks, you will tell them I’m a friend. You very much want to be my friend, don’t you, Senator? Of course you do.”

“Of course,” Stagg said.

“I’m so glad.” Dr. Pendleton’s voice shifted into a new rhythm. It was time to bring him out of it. “Now, Senator, I’m going to count backward from five. As I do, you will return to full wakefulness. When I reach zero, you will be fully awake. And as we’ve agreed, you will remember only that we had a friendly private chat—but when the time comes, you will do as I’ve instructed you to do.”

“Yes.” Stagg’s voice was low and level.

“Very good, Senator,” answered Kara. “Five. You are beginning to awaken.”

Stagg stirred. His eyelids fluttered.

“Four. You are returning to awareness, but you can still hear only my voice.”

More eyelid motion.

“Three. Your eyes are beginning to open.”

Stagg’s eyelids lifted, showing slivers of white.

“Two. Your eyes are opening. They are beginning to focus, and you are becoming aware of your surroundings.”

The Senator’s eyes were almost fully open now, and had begun to focus. He began to sit up.

“One. Your eyes are open. The memory of our conversation while you were asleep is slipping away like a dream. In a moment, when I finish my countdown, it will be completely gone. But you will carry out my suggestions when the time comes.”

Stagg looked at Dr. Pendleton, saying nothing. He was sitting fully upright now.

“Zero. You are now awake, relaxed and refreshed.”

Harry Stagg blinked and cast a startled glance at his watch. “Whoa,” he said, “where did the time go?”

Kara chuckled. “You know what they say. ‘How time flies,’ et cetera.”

Stagg laughed. “Well, we don’t want people to think we were having too much fun, do we? I guess we’d better be getting on back.”

Kara snorted in amusement. It was easy to see why Stagg was a success in politics. He was genuinely likable, and quick-witted as well. He could charm the pants off you. If you don’t do it to him first, she thought.

They left the lounge and headed back toward the dining hall, maintaining a discreet distance between them.

Senator Stagg was half undressed when the lobby buzzer sounded. Crossing to where it was mounted on the wall of his suite’s center room, he pressed the intercom button and spoke. “Yes? Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” a newly familiar female voice responded. “Kara Pendleton.”

“Come on up,” Stagg heard himself say as his finger stabbed at the button which unlocked the downstairs door. After a couple of minutes, there was the sound of muffled conversation outside his rooms.

The Senator opened the door. Dr. Pendleton was there, facing the wary-looking Secret Service agent who was currently on duty in the hall.

“It’s all right, Joe,” Stagg reassured the muscular public servant. “She’s a friend.”

“I see.” The security man tilted his head in acknowledgement. If he harbored any judgment about a presidential candidate receiving a nighttime visit from a good-looking woman not his wife, it didn’t show on his blandly handsome face.

Dr. Pendleton came in and shut the door behind her.

Suddenly Senator Stagg felt apprehensive. What in the world had possessed him to invite Dr. Pendleton up to his suite? He was usually much more careful than this!

“Ah, um,” he fumbled, “it’s nice to see you again, Doctor. But should you really be here this late?”

Kara giggled. “Why, Senator. Harry. I can call you Harry, can’t I?” Without waiting for a response, she continued: “I know what I’m doing. Trust your doctor.”

Stagg froze. His eyes emptied and a silly smile spread across his face.

Kara approached him and ran the elegantly-manicured fingers of one hand over his immobile face. Stagg didn’t react. As she had expected, the trigger she’d planted had plunged him back into a deep trance.

“That’s a good boy, Harry,” she praised him. “You’re doing just fine.”

The therapist walked around the unmoving politician, inspecting him. Stagg was shirtless, exposing strong-looking arms, a deep chest and a flat belly. His build wasn’t the exaggeratedly muscular one of a professional wrestler or body-builder, but it was obvious that he exercised regularly. His ruggedly handsome face could easily have belonged to a man five or even ten years younger, an impression only heightened by his thick mane of hair.

Time to collect my bonus, Dr. Pendleton thought. Her special clients mostly didn’t know about this part of the deal—although there’d been the Apogee Instruments case; Kara smiled at the memory of the demonstration she’d put on for the company’s board. She still kept in touch with IRS auditor Frank Avery.

“Harry, honey, listen carefully,” she said, refocusing on the present.

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.” The Senator’s voice was calm and even.

Kara walked around until she stood in front of Stagg once more. “You find me attractive, don’t you, Senator?”

“Yes,” Stagg answered with the honesty of the hypnotized. “Very attractive.”

“You want to go to bed with me, to have sex with me. You want it more than anything right now.”

Stagg whimpered as the new suggestion took hold. “Oh, God. Yes, Dr. Pendleton! Yes!“

“You may call me Kara now,” the doctor instructed. “After all, we’re all alone.”

“Yes, Kara.”

Dr. Pendleton removed her jacket, then unbuttoned her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra; as she peeled away the blouse, her full, heavy breasts swung free. Stagg’s eyes followed their motion, and his breathing accelerated.

“You like what you see, don’t you, Harry?” The doctor’s voice was low and throaty now; she was aroused herself. “Watch my breasts sway, that’s right, let them wipe away any lingering self-control, any hesitation. You want me, you have to have me. That’s all that matters right now, Harry, isn’t that right?”

A low moan was all Stagg could manage for a reply.

Kara embraced him, snaking her arms around and bringing her hands up behind his head, grasping his hair. Stagg responded by reflex, bringing up his own arms to crush the sexy hypnotist’s body against him. The two of them dropped to the floor.

Some vague time later, at Kara’s suggestion, Stagg picked her up and carried her into his bedroom. Both of them were quite naked by then. They collapsed onto the bed, and the therapist put her spellbound stud to work again. Under her control, he pumped away joyously, spurting between her legs, then into her ample cleavage, then back to between her legs. At last he passed out, his head thudding against her shoulder. By then, the Doctor was shrieking in ecstasy herself, her own mind as empty as that of her hypnotized subject.

Stagg’s lapse into unconsciousness left Kara free to drift ever so slowly back to reality. Smiling, sated, she stroked the sleeping Senator’s cheek. Soon, she dozed off herself.

Several hours later she awoke. Stagg was still out, held that way by the combination of physical fatigue and trance. If she left him alone, he’d sleep until morning and wake up out of trance.

She didn’t leave him alone. He was vulnerable now, perfectly ready for further programming. Ever so gently, she nudged at him.

“Mnnh?” Stagg stirred and opened his eyes.

“Harry, honey, listen to me,” she commanded. “Relax and listen. Trust your doctor.”

Stagg’s eyes locked on hers. Her use of his trigger phrase had reinforced his trance, as she’d intended; the Senator’s face was blank. “Yes, Kara.”

“I need you to call me Dr. Pendleton now, Harry. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.”

“Good boy.” Kara brought her hands up to frame Stagg’s face and continued: “Listen very carefully. This is what I need you to do, when the time comes.” She repeated the program she’d worked out for him. “You will do this when I ask you to do so. You will not remember that I asked you to do it; you will believe it was all your own idea. Do you understand, Senator, and will you obey?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.”

“Good boy, Harry,” the hypnotist said. “It’s very important that you do exactly as I say.”

“Very important,” Stagg murmured. “Do exactly . . . as you say.”

“I’m glad you understand. And of course, if I choose to visit you, you will let me see you, just as you did this evening. You will instruct your security detail not to keep me out and not to mention my visits to anyone.” She smiled conspiratorially. “After all, we wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea, would we? It wouldn’t help your run for the presidency, and it wouldn’t be good for my reputation either.”

Stagg nodded slowly, saying nothing.

“Now, Harry,” the therapist went on, “I’m going to count backward from three, and as I do, you will awaken. When I reach zero, you will be fully awake, relaxed and refreshed. You will not remember my putting you to sleep, or what we talked about while you were asleep; you will remember only that we had great sex. But when the time comes, and you hear me say the words I’ve told you to listen for, you will follow the instructions I’ve given you.” She’d already instructed him to do that, of course, but the repetition served to further embed her suggestions in his mind. Considering the stakes, every little bit helped. “Do you understand, and will you obey?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.”

“Good boy, Harry. Three: you are beginning to awaken.”

Stagg stirred.

“Two. Your eyes are beginning to open.”

Stagg’s eyelids fluttered and slivers of white appeared beneath them.

“One. Your eyes are opening, and you are becoming aware of the world around you. The memory of my putting you to sleep, of my giving you the instructions you must obey, is fading like a dream; in a moment it will be gone. But when the time comes, you will obey.”

Stagg’s eyes opened wider. He began to sit up.

“Zero. You are now fully awake.”

Stagg blinked, stretched, and grinned. “Wow,” he chucked, “you really are something! You wore me right out, Doctor!”

Kara laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Senator. Harry. So did I.” Her voice turned serious. “I’d love to stay till morning, but I’d better not.”

Stagg chuckled. “I suppose not. Neither of us would benefit if the tabloids found out about tonight.” He had no idea that he was repeating one of Kara’s suggestions.

“Mind if I take a shower before I leave?” Kara asked.

“Not at all,” the Senator assured her.

After a long soak under the hot spray from the shower in Stagg’s bathroom, Dr. Pendleton dressed and left.

The two of them met twice more. Each time, Kara collected another “bonus” while reinforcing Senator Stagg’s programming.

The rumors about the Senator’s womanizing continued. Finally, Stagg called a press conference to address the issue. His wife appeared with him, standing by his side.

“I know the stories that’re going around,” he addressed the assembled media people. “And I know each and every one of you would love to land a story with the potential to change the course of this election.” He smiled broadly, took a deep breath and went on. “So if anyone thinks he or she can catch me with a woman—other than you, dear,” and he nodded to his spouse amid scattered laughter, “I say, go ahead and try. Give it your best shot.”

There was a murmur as reporters bent to write notes or speak into recorders. The headlines the following day practically wrote themselves: Senator Stagg Challenges Reporters on Charges of Womanizing adorned the front page of the New York Times, while STAGG DARES REPORTERS: CATCH ME IF YOU CAN! blazed across the more sensational Post and its sister tabloids. Variations on one or the other were seen in newspapers and magazines across the country.

Two weeks later, the Senator was at his campaign headquarters in Florida when a call came in. The receptionist answered it, listened a moment and asked, “Senator, there’s someone on the line for you. She says her name is Dr. Kara Pendleton. Do you want to take it?”

Stagg smiled. “Sure, Rhonda.” He was already on a first-name basis with the pretty brunette. “I’ll take it in the back, if you don’t mind.”

He went into the private office which had been set up for him and picked up the phone. “I’ve got it, Rhonda, thank you.” There was a click as the receptionist got off the line.

“Dr. Pendleton?”

A throaty laugh came from the receiver. “Oh, come now, surely we know each other better than that. Call me Kara.”

“All right. Kara.” Stagg was puzzled. “Why the call?” Cautiously: “I don’t think I’ll be able to arrange to see you while I’m here.”

“That’s all right, Senator,” replied the therapist. “I couldn’t come down there just now anyway. This is about something else.” Her voice changed. “Party time.”

A distant look came into Stagg’s eyes. He repeated, “Party time.”

“You remember what you need to do, don’t you?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.”

“Tell me, just so I can be sure.”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.” In a calm voice, Senator Stagg repeated the instructions Kara had given him at their first meeting, the instructions she had carefully reinforced since then.

“You’ll do as I asked, won’t you, Senator?”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.”

“Good boy.” Kara continued, “When I hang up, you will forget what we’ve just discussed. You will remember only that I called to wish you good luck. You will then carry out your instructions, as we’ve agreed.”

“Yes, Dr. Pendleton.”

“Good boy.” There was a click, and then a dial tone.

Stagg placed the phone handset back in its cradle. It had been nice of Kara to call and wish him luck. Remembering their times together, he smiled regretfully; it was too bad they couldn’t do it again.

But there wouldn’t be time. He had things to do.

The sun was setting as the three men sneaked aboard the fancy pleasure boat moored at the posh marina. They were risking arrest, of course—but if the tip they’d gotten were on the level, it’d be worth it.

They crept quietly across the boat’s polished deck and descended into the interior. They knew what they were looking for. Only minutes later, groans and squeals of pleasure from behind a paneled door told them they’d found it.

Lost in a sexual fog, the handsome couple thrusting and writhing against each other on the bed didn’t even notice immediately when the door opened. It was the flare of a camera’s flash which penetrated their oblivious bliss.

“Fuck!” Senator Stagg rolled off the lushly-curved body of his secretary Dana Wheatley and jumped to his feet, still naked. More flashes went off.

“Surprise, Senator!” The photographer leered at him. “Nice set you’ve got on you. Her, too.”

Stagg reddened in fury. “You publish any of those pictures and I’ll sue you and your paper”—he recognized the man; he worked for one of the sleazier tabloids, whose owner backed the other party—“for everything you’ve got!”

One of the others spoke up. “I wouldn’t go making threats, if I were you, Senator.” He smiled nastily. “Once this gets out, you won’t be in any position to back ‘em up.”

The third man chimed in. “What, did you think you could just dare us to catch you, and go right ahead with”—he glanced at Dana, who was now sitting up, covering herself with the bedsheets—“this, and get away with it? How stupid do you think we are?”

Stagg ignored the verbal opening. “Get out,” he bit off. “Get off my boat. Now!”

The newsmen left. They had what they wanted, anyway.

The media had a field day. All the old stories about Senator Stagg’s sex life were dusted off and offered to the reading, listening and viewing public. All of a sudden, the Stagg campaign could hardly get a word in edgewise about his record in office or his plans if elected—and when Stagg did try to address the political issues, no one would listen. All anyone cared about was that he’d dared the media to expose him—and then let them do it. He had been a rising star; all at once he was a laughingstock.

The day Harry Stagg announced his withdrawal from the presidential race, Kara Pendleton received a phone call.

“Nicely done,” the voice on the other end said. “Stagg’s finished politically, just as we wanted.”

The therapist chuckled. “I’d say so.”

“Excellent,” her caller said. “I’m authorized to inform you that as per our arrangement, the second half of your payment has been deposited to the account you specified.”

“Thank you,” Kara said into the phone.

There was a click, and then a dial tone.

Kara Pendleton threw back her head and laughed out loud. This had been her biggest deal yet—a million dollars! All for using her talents to trip up a political candidate. She hadn’t even had to work very hard; Stagg had been riding for a fall as it was.

Poor Harry, she mused. He had no idea how he’d betrayed himself.

First had come his dare to the media. He’d been easy to manipulate into issuing that challenge; he’d been getting away with things for so long, he really did think reporters were stupid.

Then, in response to his “party time” trigger, he had invited the succulent Ms. Wheatley over for an evening’s entertainment. But after she’d arrived, he had slipped away from her just long enough to make a second call—delivering the “anonymous” tip which had brought those tabloid reporters to his yacht. Naturally, he’d forgotten all about that call as soon as he’d hung up. And if whoever had been on the other end had had even an inkling of the mystery tipster’s identity, there had been no hint of it in the news.

It had all worked like a charm.

Thinking of the name the now disgraced politician had given his boat, Kara Pendleton laughed again. With the money she’d made off him, she could afford some indiscretions of her own.

Harry Stagg was defeated for re-election. Retiring from politics, he enjoyed a modestly successful second career as an author. He and his wife are divorced.

Dana Wheatley became a minor celebrity, appearing nude in Playboy and starring in several B movies. Her memoirs earned a small fortune. She now lives in California with her new boyfriend, a cable television executive.

Dr. Kara Pendleton continues her successful practice. She has recently purchased a yacht of her own.