The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

MICHAEL:

Thank you for visiting, Claire.

CLAIRE:

Thank you for having me. This is delicious champagne. And the view is simply beautiful, Michael.

MICHAEL:

Isn’t it? Tallest building on Piccadilly. You can see everyone from the terrace, and no one can see you.

CLAIRE:

All of St James’s Park, spread out before you.

MICHAEL:

If it weren’t for the traffic, you’d think we were in the country.

CLAIRE:

How does a cultural attaché with the American embassy afford this place? Do you come from family?

MICHAEL:

After a fashion. My Uncle Sam pays the rent.

CLAIRE:

Ah, it’s a grace and favor flat.

MICHAEL:

Well, yes, although we don’t call it that.

CLAIRE:

You do throw swell parties here.

MICHAEL:

That’s my job, after all.

CLAIRE:

Sydney can’t stop talking about your parties.

MICHAEL:

She’s a lovely girl.

CLAIRE:

In fact, she can’t stop talking about you.

MICHAEL:

Really?

CLAIRE:

Yes.

MICHAEL:

Ah, now we come to reason for this visit.

CLAIRE:

Yes.

MICHAEL:

Well, out with it. What’s the matter?

CLAIRE:

You. Well, you and your rather public affair with Sydney.

MICHAEL:

Public? Really. It’s no such thing.

CLAIRE:

It is every such thing. She is following you around like a puppy.

MICHAEL:

I am quite fond of her.

CLAIRE:

I’m fond of my car, but I do not drive it everywhere.

MICHAEL:

And here I thought she and I were being discreet.

CLAIRE:

I doubt that. Everyone is talking about it.

MICHAEL:

Everyone?

CLAIRE:

Everyone who matters. It will be in the papers in days if you keep this up.

MICHAEL:

Well, then it’s in the papers.

CLAIRE:

That can’t be allowed to happen.

MICHAEL:

Why not?

CLAIRE:

Because she’s a duke’s daughter, you idiot.

MICHAEL:

And I’m...

CLAIRE:

Irish.

MICHAEL:

I’m American!

CLAIRE:

Which means you’re Irish.

MICHAEL:

I could be Scots.

CLAIRE:

That’s hardly better. Anyone below baron is Irish to her family. A scandal will ruin her chances of making a good marriage.

MICHAEL:

What’s a good marriage?

CLAIRE:

One with a scion of a good family, ideally one with a great deal of money left.

MICHAEL:

Not many of those still around.

CLAIRE:

All the more reason that you don’t ruin it

MICHAEL:

Your father is an earl, and I don’t see you on the prowl for a rich husband.

CLAIRE:

Sydney’s an only child. I have two older brothers. I have different responsibilities.

MICHAEL:

Really? What are yours?

CLAIRE:

Spending my money fast enough to be fashionable yet slow enough not to have to beg for more.

MICHAEL:

Sounds challenging.

CLAIRE:

You have no idea.

MICHAEL:

Anyway, shouldn’t His Grace her father be here having this conversation with me?

CLAIRE:

He doesn’t care, yet. He’s in Rotterdam with his Dutch mistress.

MICHAEL:

Rotterdam?

CLAIRE:

He couldn’t very well bring her here.

MICHAEL:

Ah, because...

CLAIRE:

... there would be a scandal. I’m glad you catch on so quickly.

MICHAEL:

Then I suppose that she should stop visiting the Gateways Club with you?

CLAIRE:

Oh. You know about that.

MICHAEL:

And your trips to a certain establishment in the very shadow of Christchurch Spitalfields?

CLAIRE:

Oh. I’m very surprised you know about that too.

MICHAEL:

It’s rather my business to know these things.

CLAIRE:

Oh, how stupid of me. You’re a spy.

MICHAEL:

Only among friends.

CLAIRE:

I’m flattered. So, why do you bring up this fascinating blackmail material?

MICHAEL:

More curiosity that anything else. Shall we speak frankly?

CLAIRE:

I assure you there is nothing I enjoy more than speaking frankly with men.

MICHAEL:

I don’t doubt it. Are you sexually inverted?

CLAIRE:

Only with women.

MICHAEL:

Very good. I will update your file accordingly.

CLAIRE:

You have a file on me?

MICHAEL:

The daughters of the aristocracy are strategic assets, whether or not they wish to be.

CLAIRE:

I rather fancy being a strategic asset.

MICHAEL:

And a beautiful one, may I add.

CLAIRE:

Stop at once. His Majesty’s Government have restricted strategic assets to one per consular official, and you have yours.

MICHAEL:

Damn these privations. Anyway, Sydney was being seen with that Austrian, von Lothringen, and he was no baron.

CLAIRE:

He was an archduke!

MICHAEL:

If he’s an archduke, I’m King of Connacht. There was a brief bit of unpleasantness around 1918 that settled that particular royal house.

CLAIRE:

Very funny. I’ll admit that we were not crushed when she sent Herr Not-a-Hapsburg flouncing back to Vienna, but he was of the right class.

MICHAEL:

Pity about his politics.

CLAIRE:

Quite. Pity.

MICHAEL:

Very well. What is it that you want me to do?

CLAIRE:

Cut it off with Sydney. Haven’t I said that already?

MICHAEL:

Isn’t that Sydney’s choice?

CLAIRE:

One thing you learn as a strategic asset is that nothing is ever entirely your choice.

MICHAEL:

I suppose we could be more discreet.

CLAIRE:

You could scarcely be less.

MICHAEL:

Very well, Claire. I’ll have a word with her.

CLAIRE:

Thank you.

MICHAEL:

Really, it’s nothing.

CLAIRE:

And the less said about...

MICHAEL:

The Gateways Club?

CLAIRE:

... the better. Yes.

MICHAEL:

And about your dear friend Pansy?

CLAIRE:

Ah. You know about her, too.

MICHAEL:

You aren’t bad at disguise, Claire, but... this is what I do, after all.

CLAIRE:

Well, it wouldn’t do for Lady Claire to be slumming on the East End, would it?

MICHAEL:

Not at all. And it certainly wouldn’t do for Lady Claire to be...

CLAIRE:

Yes, yes, I understand completely. I’m glad I can trust to your discretion.

MICHAEL:

It is absolute, of course.

CLAIRE:

In her “Pansy” voice

I’m very much obliged, sir.

MICHAEL:

You do that quite well.

CLAIRE:

A great deal of practice.

MICHAEL:

Under some trying circumstances, if my reports are accurate.

CLAIRE:

We are speaking frankly.

MICHAEL:

I’m just curious where you came up with the idea of impersonating an East End prostitute.

CLAIRE:

Garden parties become so deadly.

MICHAEL:

I could give you some pointers.

CLAIRE:

At being a Spitalfields tart? I’m fascinated.

MICHAEL:

At impersonation, of course.

CLAIRE:

Well... alright! This is rather a fun game, I must confess. I had no idea that my best friend was bedding a spy.

MICHAEL:

Neither does she, and I trust you will keep it that way. Now, shall we begin?

CLAIRE:

Please!

MICHAEL:

Make yourself comfortable.

CLAIRE:

I excel at that.

MICHAEL:

Doubtless. Now, please look directly at this.

CLAIRE:

That pendant.

MICHAEL:

Yes.

CLAIRE:

Very well. And now what?

MICHAEL:

Continue staring at it.

CLAIRE:

You’re going to hypnotize me, aren’t you? Sydney said you did that to her, too.

MICHAEL:

Do you trust me?

CLAIRE:

Of course not.

MICHAEL:

That’s wise. Will you permit it, nonetheless?

CLAIRE:

Yes, on the condition that I am asked do nothing that I would not otherwise do.

MICHAEL:

And what, precisely, would you not otherwise do?

CLAIRE:

Anything publicly embarrassing that I cannot blame on drink.

MICHAEL:

Nothing else?

CLAIRE:

You must think me a horrible slut.

MICHAEL:

I wouldn’t say horrible.

CLAIRE:

If you were not Sydney’s lover, I would push you off this terrace. Proceed.

MICHAEL:

With pleasure. Now, relax back and stare at the pendant.

CLAIRE:

Like this?

MICHAEL:

Perfect. Keep staring at it, very closely. Don’t even blink if you can help it.

CLAIRE:

Is this how you seduced Sydney?

MICHAEL:

Why do you ask?

CLAIRE:

Just curious. Continue.

MICHAEL:

Relax. Let yourself drift.

CLAIRE:

This was a lot of trouble just to get her into bed. Two Singapore Slings are usually sufficient.

MICHAEL:

Claire.

CLAIRE:

What?

MICHAEL:

Focus.

CLAIRE:

I’m terribly sorry. I am a bit nervous.

MICHAEL:

Why?

CLAIRE:

Oh... no reason. Please, continue. My apologies.

MICHAEL:

None required. Now, stare directly at the pendant. I’m going to start moving it. Just stare, and let it cross in front of you. Don’t try to follow it.

CLAIRE:

Like this?

MICHAEL:

Precisely.

CLAIRE:

It is soothing.

MICHAEL:

Back and forth... back and forth... relax, Claire. Let yourself go.

CLAIRE:

Very soothing.

MICHAEL:

Back and forth...

CLAIRE:

Back and forth...

MICHAEL:

Relax...

CLAIRE:

Relax...

MICHAEL:

Let yourself go. Drift. Your eyes are getting very heavy.

CLAIRE:

Very heavy... oooooh...

MICHAEL:

That’s wonderful. You can’t keep your eyes open. Drift away, let yourself sleep... sleep...

CLAIRE:

Sleep...

MICHAEL:

Go to sleep for me, Claire.

CLAIRE:

Sleep for you...

MICHAEL:

That’s very good. Close your eyes. You are in a deep, hypnotic trance.

CLAIRE:

Yes... a deep, hypnotic trance.

MICHAEL:

It feels wonderful to drift.

CLAIRE:

Drift.

MICHAEL:

Relax. Don’t think.

CLAIRE:

Don’t think...

MICHAEL:

Very open and receptive.

CLAIRE:

Receptive.

MICHAEL:

You have no will.

CLAIRE:

No will.

MICHAEL:

You cannot resist me.

CLAIRE:

I cannot resist.

MICHAEL:

Completely open.

CLAIRE:

Open.

MICHAEL:

Give yourself to me completely.

CLAIRE:

Yes... give myself to you...

MICHAEL:

Now, Claire, tell me about Pansy.

CLAIRE:

About Pansy?

MICHAEL:

Yes, tell me about Pansy?

CLAIRE:

She’s just someone I pretend to be, sometimes. When I want a bit of fun away from the West End.

MICHAEL:

Do you know anything about her? Her parents? Where she lives?

CLAIRE:

No... she’s not a real person.

MICHAEL:

Yes, she is.

CLAIRE:

She is?

MICHAEL:

She can be. Let’s talk about her.

CLAIRE:

Yes.

MICHAEL:

Tell me about her parents.

CLAIRE:

Her father was a publican. No. A shopkeeper. Yes, that’s it. He made... hats. Lovely hats. But when he died, creditors took it all...

(later)

PANSY:

Yes, sir. I understand, sir.

MICHAEL:

Thank you, Pansy. Let’s go over some particulars, again.

PANSY:

Certainly, sir. I will tell you anything you wish to know.

MICHAEL:

Age?

PANSY:

22.

MICHAEL:

Place of birth?

PANSY:

My family’s house in Brick Lane. Above our shop.

MICHAEL:

Place of residence?

PANSY:

Spitalfields, mostly. I move around a bit.

MICHAEL:

Are your parents still alive?

PANSY:

I’m afraid not, sir.

MICHAEL:

I’m sorry.

PANSY:

Thank you, sir.

MICHAEL:

Profession?

PANSY:

Well, before my father died, I helped keep his shop. On Brick Lane. He made hats, women’s hats, very fancy ones.

MICHAEL:

And now?

PANSY:

Well, times are very hard, sir, as you know.

MICHAEL:

Indeed they are.

PANSY:

He owed money when he died, and they took the shop.

MICHAEL:

That must have been very hard on you.

PANSY:

Not as hard as it was on my mother. It killed her.

MICHAEL:

I am sorry to hear that. No brothers or sisters?

PANSY:

No, sir. I am alone in the world.

MICHAEL:

So how do you survive?

PANSY:

So, I... well, certain fine gentlemen assist me.

MICHAEL:

Ah, yes, I understand.

PANSY:

But I am not a bad girl, not like the sluts on the street.

MICHAEL:

I did not think that for a moment.

PANSY:

Thank you, sir. I could see at once you were very sympathetic.

MICHAEL:

And I dare say that parts of your work you find appealing.

PANSY:

It would be lying to deny it.

MICHAEL:

And I am sure you are accomplished at it.

PANSY:

I get no complaints, sir, and that’s not a boast. I’ve only been doing it for a year, but I dare say I’ve learned quite a bit.

MICHAEL:

You are as modest as you are beautiful.

PANSY:

Thank you, sir.

MICHAEL:

And where are you right now?

PANSY:

I am at your flat on Piccadilly.

MICHAEL:

And why are you here?

PANSY:

You brought me here. Brought me up the back stairs, bundled up so no one could see.

MICHAEL:

And why did I do that?

PANSY:

You are one of my fine gentlemen, sir. It wouldn’t do to have a girl such as me come up the front stairs.

MICHAEL:

You have passed with flying colors, Pansy.

PANSY:

You are too kind, sir.

MICHAEL:

I’ve never been called that before. Now, I am going to count down from three, and when I reach one, you will awaken. Do you understand?

PANSY:

Oh, yes, sir. I understand.

MICHAEL:

Three... two... one.

PANSY:

Oh, look at this beautiful view! You could see all the way to Dover from here!

MICHAEL:

Dover Street perhaps. It’s just down the block.

PANSY:

The block?

MICHAEL:

Oh, that’s right, London doesn’t have blocks. Would you like some champagne?

PANSY:

I don’t drink champagne very often, sir. It goes straight to my head.

MICHAEL:

Then, by all means, you should have some.

PANSY:

You are too kind, sir.

MICHAEL:

Twice in one day.

PANSY:

Sir?

MICHAEL:

Nothing. Here’s... to beautiful East End girls!

PANSY:

You are making me blush!

MICHAEL:

I’m glad that’s still possible.

PANSY:

Sir!

MICHAEL:

Ignore my teasing.

PANSY:

Oh, you are having fun with me.

MICHAEL:

Not at present, but soon.

PANSY:

And... these clothes! They’re so lovely! I could never afford such things.

MICHAEL:

They’re yours.

PANSY:

Sir! I can’t accept!

MICHAEL:

Why not?

PANSY:

They’re far too fancy for me.

MICHAEL:

Nonsense. They fit you perfectly. It’s as if they were made for you.

PANSY:

You are very generous.

MICHAEL:

But...

PANSY:

Sir?

MICHAEL:

It would be terrible if they were damaged or soiled. You’d best take them off.

PANSY:

But... we’re out of doors!

MICHAEL:

No one can see us. Not even the penthouse of the Ritz is this high.

PANSY:

Are you certain?

MICHAEL:

Not unless a pilot landing at Northolt has extremely good vision.

PANSY:

Oh, dear!

MICHAEL:

I’m joking. We are as private as if we were in the middle of the Highlands.

PANSY:

Very well...

MICHAEL:

As long as you keep your voice down.

PANSY:

Oh, am I speaking too loudly?

MICHAEL:

That wasn’t quite what I meant. Please, allow me to assist you with your dress.

PANSY:

I have never done anything like this before.

MICHAEL:

I am certain that you will acquit yourself admirably. Now, bend over.

PANSY:

Oh, sir, yes, that’s a favorite...

MICHAEL:

But not there.

PANSY:

Sir?

MICHAEL:

Here. Against the edge. Look over.

PANSY:

But... but I can see the street!

MICHAEL:

But they can only see your face.

PANSY:

But...

MICHAEL:

No buts. Then, with me kneeling behind you, I can apply my mouth... no, spread a bit wider, that’s a dear... like this...

PANSY:

Oh! Oh, sir! Oh... oh, that’s... that’s...

MICHAEL:

Now, keep your voice down.

PANSY:

I... will do my best... oh, that’s wonderful... please, don’t stop... oh... sir, that’s exquisite...

(later)

PANSY:

Oh...

MICHAEL:

Are you alright, my dear?

PANSY:

Oh, yes. Just a bit breathless.

MICHAEL:

Deep breaths.

PANSY:

Yes, deep breaths...

MICHAEL:

My, that flatters your bosom.

PANSY:

You are teasing me again!

MICHAEL:

Not a bit of it.

PANSY:

And I haven’t done anything for you, yet.

MICHAEL:

I wouldn’t say that. I find pleasuring a woman that way most enjoyable.

PANSY:

But you’ve been so generous to me. May I...?

MICHAEL:

Please, help yourself.

PANSY:

I’ve been told I’m very skilled with my mouth.

MICHAEL:

You kiss exquisitely.

PANSY:

I meant other things.

MICHAEL:

I’m certain that you did. But, let’s start with kissing again.

PANSY:

Oh, yes. And then down your chest...

MICHAEL:

Oh, that is delicious...

PANSY:

And then down... down...

MICHAEL:

Oh, my. You are skilled.

PANSY:

Thank you, sir.

MICHAEL:

Oh, yes... yes... that is wonderful...

PANSY:

Now, shouldn’t you be careful not to make too much noise?

MICHAEL:

Vixen. Oh! Oh... don’t stop... just like that...

PANSY:

Did you enjoy that?

MICHAEL:

That was astonishing. Thank you, Pansy.

PANSY:

Of course, sir.

MICHAEL:

Now, if I could ask you to lie down here...

PANSY:

Sir?

MICHAEL:

And spread your legs...

PANSY:

Oh, sir! Most men are... spent after that.

MICHAEL:

You certainly do not look spent, my dear. Do you enjoy being touched there?

PANSY:

Oh, yes.

MICHAEL:

And there?

PANSY:

Oh, yes!

MICHAEL:

And if I slide in one finger, then two... and then begin to finger, slowly...

PANSY:

Oh, yes! Yes, sir! Please... if you would... I am so ready for you.

MICHAEL:

As I am for you.

PANSY:

I will guide you in.

MICHAEL:

Like... that?

PANSY:

Oh, like that... now... please... harder... please...

MICHAEL:

You are remarkably... flexible... Pansy... Oh, yes...

(later)

PANSY:

Oh, sir. I may be a tart...

MICHAEL:

Pansy, do not denigrate yourself...

PANSY:

But I have never been bedded like that.

MICHAEL:

I’m flattered.

PANSY:

I trust you might... seek me out again?

MICHAEL:

Of course, my dear. I could not resist your charms.

PANSY:

Thank you, sir. I suppose I should... dress now.

MICHAEL:

In a moment. Sleep for me.

PANSY:

Oh... oh... what is... yes, sleep.

MICHAEL:

That’s very good, Claire. Sleep very deeply.

CLAIRE:

Yes, very deeply.

MICHAEL:

Just listen to my voice. You can’t think about anything else.

CLAIRE:

Yes, your voice.

MICHAEL:

So deep. So open and trusting.

CLAIRE:

Yes... trusting...

MICHAEL:

Anything I say...

CLAIRE:

Yes, anything.

MICHAEL:

Now, Claire, let’s talk about something else.

CLAIRE:

Anything, MICHAEL: MICHAEL: You will be completely honest with me.

CLAIRE:

Yes...

MICHAEL:

And completely open to my suggestions.

CLAIRE:

Yes, Michael. Anything.

CLAIRE:

I’ve been in love with you for weeks.

MICHAEL:

Have you?

CLAIRE:

Madly. Insanely. I cannot stop thinking about you.

MICHAEL:

And why haven’t you told me?

CLAIRE:

Because you were Sydney’s, and I didn’t want to interfere.

MICHAEL:

But you wanted me?

CLAIRE:

Oh, yes. I would have done anything you asked. If you’d asked.

MICHAEL:

Anything?

CLAIRE:

Anything.

MICHAEL:

You want to be my lover?

CLAIRE:

In and out of bed.

MICHAEL:

The thought excites you?

CLAIRE:

Oh... oh, yes... yes... it does...

MICHAEL:

In your mind, feel my mouth on your lips...

CLAIRE:

Yes... deep, warm kisses...

MICHAEL:

On your breasts...

CLAIRE:

Yes... please... suck on them...

MICHAEL:

And between your legs.

CLAIRE:

Oh! Oh... that’s wonderful!

MICHAEL:

You can feel it, can’t you, Claire?

CLAIRE:

Yes,... oh, take me, take me...

MICHAEL:

And now you can feel me inside of you...

CLAIRE:

Yes! Like that! I’m yours!

MICHAEL:

Entirely?

CLAIRE:

Your love-slave! Anything you wish from me is yours.

MICHAEL:

I wish you to have your climax, for me.

CLAIRE:

Yes! Oh, yes! Michael, anything, everything, I am yours, your lover, your mistress, your whore, your slave if you wish! Yes... Oooooh! YES! Yes... yes... oh, god, yes...

MICHAEL:

Now, sleep, Claire, and awaken refreshed and alert.

CLAIRE:

Oh... such pleasure... yes... sleep...

MICHAEL:

That’s very good, Claire.

(later)

CLAIRE:

Oh, what a refreshing... fuck. Michael, what is the meaning of this?

MICHAEL:

I would think it’s rather obvious.

CLAIRE:

You... you had sex with... with Pansy!

MICHAEL:

Well, she is a tart, isn’t she?

CLAIRE:

Oh! I... I... Well, yes, she is rather, isn’t she? Did you enjoy her?

MICHAEL:

She was wonderful, in her naïve way. Did she enjoy me?

CLAIRE:

Rapture. Now, since we happen to find ourselves naked in the same bed together, will you please kiss me?

MICHAEL:

Certainly.

CLAIRE:

There. I’ve been waiting for weeks for that. But...

MICHAEL:

But?

CLAIRE:

Would you like to compare?

MICHAEL:

Compare?

CLAIRE:

Who is better in bed, Pansy or I?

MICHAEL:

A gentleman would never make such a comparison.

CLAIRE:

And how does that pertain to you? Anyway, you are lacking a critical piece of information to make that judgment.

MICHAEL:

Yes?

CLAIRE:

You haven’t had me yet.

MICHAEL:

Oh, you’re right! We must remedy that sometime soon.

CLAIRE:

No time like the present.

MICHAEL:

Good god, how much stamina do you think I have?

CLAIRE:

You’d best have quite a bit if you are going to keep company with me. Allow me to assist. I’m quite sure my skills with my mouth are superior to Pansy’s...

MICHAEL:

Oh... oh, yes...

CLAIRE:

Pansy and I share a favorite position, though. I do hope you have strong knees.

(later)

MICHAEL:

I am exhausted.

CLAIRE:

As am I, love. But you were wonderful.

MICHAEL:

As were you.

CLAIRE:

And who is better?

MICHAEL:

You are both wonderful and unique in your own ways.

CLAIRE:

Devil. Come up to the country with me this weekend?

MICHAEL:

I’m sorry, love. I’m to Munich.

CLAIRE:

What’s in Munich?

MICHAEL:

Beer.

CLAIRE:

And Nazis?

MICHAEL:

Every city has its flaws.

CLAIRE:

Oh! Take me?

MICHAEL:

I just did.

CLAIRE:

I am going to suffocate you, my darling. Take me to Munich.

MICHAEL:

No can do, love. Lady Claire would set off alarms to Berlin and back.

CLAIRE:

Damn. I would so like some adventure.

MICHAEL:

On the other hand...

CLAIRE:

The one that is fingering me?

MICHAEL:

Yes, that one. I could take Pansy.

CLAIRE:

You just did that, too. Lower...

MICHAEL:

Now, who’s the devil?

CLAIRE:

You! You had me on the very same couch on which you screwed your little East End tart, and didn’t even change the coverlet.

MICHAEL:

Thank you for reminding me.

CLAIRE:

What do you mean, darling? Oh, yes, like that...

MICHAEL:

Sydney’s coming over this evening.

CLAIRE:

Oh, my god! Sydney! What am I going to tell her?

MICHAEL:

I wouldn’t worry, darling. I’ve already brought Lady Sydney up to date on the latest news.

CLAIRE:

What latest news?

MICHAEL:

About us.

CLAIRE:

You are being insufferable, love. There was no “us” until this afternoon. You couldn’t have told her.

MICHAEL:

Perhaps I anticipated.

CLAIRE:

You mean to tell me that you planned to seduce me this afternoon, and told my best friend that you were going to do so?

MICHAEL:

I thought it would save time later. She knew that you were carrying a torch for me.

CLAIRE:

And I thought I was being so discreet. Damn. Are you going to throw her over?

MICHAEL:

Hadn’t planned on it.

CLAIRE:

You’d best have a great deal of stamina... then... oh, that’s lovely... yes, please don’t stop that.

MICHAEL:

I shall engage in calisthenics every morning.

CLAIRE:

I’m sure Sydney will be happy to assist. Push-ups, you know. Oh! You are being outrageous, expecting to have both of us. Arrogant! Cocksure! Presumptuous! I never... I am so angry with you... Oooooooh! I am going to kill you, once I’ve had this climax.

MICHAEL:

I’d best draw it out, then.

CLAIRE:

If you... do... I’ll kill you for that... Oooooooooooooh! Oh, my god, yes, darling...

MICHAEL:

I think it’s a superb idea.

CLAIRE:

Ooooh... tell me after I’ve... finished... coming... oh, yes, love...

MICHAEL:

Pansy can come with me to Munich. No one will be looking for her.

pansy/CLAIRE:

She’d... be ever so grateful, sir. Oh, my, god, what are you doing to me with those fingers...

MICHAEL:

It’s a brilliant plan. Pansy could be of great assistance to me. And she does need a protector.

CLAIRE:

A protector? Oh! Are you proposing to be Pansy’s pimp?

MICHAEL:

I prefer “spymaster.”

CLAIRE:

Oh! I do like the sound of that. Mmmmm, yes, that’s perfect. But she... yes, like that, keep stroking, don’t stop, my love... Pansy doesn’t have... a passport...

MICHAEL:

That sort of thing can be arranged.

CLAIRE:

Oh! Yes, yes, like that, yes, yes!

MICHAEL:

Remember, keep your voice down, love.

CLAIRE:

You’d best be... careful, dearest... or I shall report you to the authorities... ooooh...

MICHAEL:

For what?

CLAIRE:

Hoarding strategic assets.

MICHAEL:

I’ll claim diplomatic immunity.

CLAIRE:

Devil. You’d be expelled, persona non grata.

MICHAEL:

I doubt it. And if the matter were to arise, darling... isn’t your brother in the Home Office?

CLAIRE:

Presumptuous devil! Oh, my god, yes, please don’t stop, my love, don’t stop...

MICHAEL:

I wouldn’t dream of it. But we should make plans. Now, Pansy, will you be a good girl on this trip?

PANSY:

Oh, yes, sir. Certainly sir. Whatever you wish, sir... oh, yes... sir... whatever you want, sir... please, don’t stop... don’t stop... whatever you want...