The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Anyone under the age of 18, along with anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion, please do not read this story.

The people and events in this story are fictional and do not represent anyone or anything from real life.

If you enjoyed this story, please be aware that I write under the name Chrystal Wynd as well as the name Dark Wynd.

* * *

Synopsis: Ten strangers are brought to a remote island under false pretenses. The reason soon becomes all too clear.

* * *

Ten Little Bimbos

A.K.A.— And Then They Were Dumb

Part 2

Cast of characters

Rena Lacke stood on the outside deck of Beau Resort staring out over the ocean.

She went over the earlier lunch scene in her head. The faces of the guests and staff of the Beau Island Resort. Their body language after the voice had named the charges toward those present on the island. The unconscious physical tells that they probably didn’t even realize they were projecting, but practically screamed their secrets to Rena.

And after watching her fellow guests and the resort staff during the recorded indictment, Rena had no doubt that each and every one of them was guilty.

Rena smiled to herself. Being a gifted behavior psychiatrist was in many ways like being multi-lingual. She understood everything being said…and even more importantly, everything that wasn’t being said. Keeping secrets from her was almost impossible. Just the way she liked it.

Besides, she couldn’t do what she needed to do without it. It was the gift that made the job—this job—possible.

The resort door opened and Rena wasn’t alone on the deck any more.

“Enjoying the view?” said Aubrey.

“Yes,” said Rena. “Very much so.”

“Breathtaking,” said Aubrey. “Looks like the ocean goes on forever.”

“Indeed,” said Rena. Her hair was a kaleidoscope of changing colors depending on which way she faced the sun. “So tell me…did you come out to admire the view or were you looking for me specifically?”

“Both,” said Aubrey. Then she noted Rena’s skeptical look. “All right, fine. I was looking for you.”

“I see,” said Rena. “And what for, if I may ask?”

Aubrey hesitated, then said, “Because I want to apologize for…Caroline.”

Liar, thought Rena. Out loud she said, “Oh?”

“Caroline volunteered, you know,” said Aubrey. “She was always the first to volunteer. She loved the adventure, the thrill. All of them did, of course, but Caroline seemed to thrive on it.”

Rena said, “I’m aware of my cousin’s need for adrenaline-fueled entertainment, Professor Rush. I would ask that you not insult me, however, by thinking I would accept that as justification for what happened to her.”

Aubrey sighed. “Of course not,” she said. “That wasn’t my intention at all. I just wanted—“

Rena cut her off. “I’m aware of what you want, Professor Rush.”

“Please call me Aubrey,” said Aubrey. “And what is it you think I want?”

“What you want,” said Rena, turning to face Aubrey, “is this.”

Rena slapped Aubrey sharply across the face.

* * *

Eric Parker, decorated executive chef for the Beau Island Resort, wasn’t thinking about the Michelin stars he had earned for three separate restaurants. He wasn’t thinking about the beef wellington he was preparing for the evening meal. He wasn’t even thinking about the coffee crème brulee he would be serving for dessert.

Instead, Eric Parker was thinking about how badly he wanted to touch his cock.

His engorged cock was an iron rod, stiff and aching, and he would have done anything within his power to touch it, to grip it, to stroke it. But he couldn’t touch his cock because the thick leather restraints holding his wrists above his head shoulder-width apart prevented him from doing so.

Eric might have complained about his predicament, had he been able to speak. But the ball gag in his mouth prevented him from doing so.

Of course, complaining would have done him no good anyway. It would only have earned him another whip-mark on his chest, which would have formed a criss-cross over the whip-marks already on his chest.

As if sensing his thoughts, Tori Parker—manager of the Beau Island Resort and wife to the helplessly-restrained Eric—brought her whip down and struck Eric a snapping blow across his pectorals.

Eric gasped. Tori reached over and lifted Eric’s chin, her eyes locking with his.

“Concentrate, little boy,” said Tori. “I’d hate to think I didn’t have your undivided attention.”

Eric blushed and dropped his eyes, unable to hold her gaze.

Tori laughed and took a step back. She reached down and patted the blonde hair of the naked woman kneeling by her feet.

Hannah giggled as Tori’s fingers stroked through her hair.

“Good girl,” said Tori. Then Tori pointed to her own pussy. “Now please your mistress.”

Hannah giggled again. Then she leaned forward and began lapping away at Tori’s pussy like a cat.

* * *

Aubrey fell back a step, blinking at the unexpected slap.

Rena stared at her impassively.

There was silence for several heartbeats. Then Aubrey said, “Care to explain exactly why you think I wanted that?”

“Because,” said Rena, her voice taking on a slight clinical detachment, “you want absolution. You want to get closer to me, but you think you can’t because the specter of my cousin Caroline hangs between us. You want to be punished so we can move past it. Well, I’ve given it to you.”

Aubrey touched her reddened cheek. “I see,” she said. “And what makes you think I want to get closer to you?”

Rena smiled and took a step closer to Aubrey, moving into her personal space. “Because I can read you like a book, Aubrey. Your cheeks were flushed before I ever slapped you. Your speech patterns are confident, but your body language says you’re aroused. Your panties are wet, aren’t they, Aubrey? Because you want me, Aubrey. Like I want you.”

Aubrey looked at the front of Rena’s blouse. Rena’s nipples were rigid.

“Okay,” said Aubrey. “That’s…pretty good. So what are we going to do with this information? How do we get around, ah, Caroline?”

Rena said, “We’re on an island, away from the real world and everyone in it. For a few days, at least. We push Caroline and the rest of the real world away for the time being and just focus on…us.”

Aubrey moved even closer to Rena, her modest breasts barely touching Rena’s. “Can we do that?” she asked softly. “Can we forget Caroline for…for now?”

Rena offered a predatory smile. “For now?” she said. “Yes.”

* * *

Elizabeth Besting stared at her cell phone. She was not happy.

“Still no fucking signal,” said Elizabeth. “What kind of high-end resort doesn’t have a back-up plan for wifi?”

“Oh, no,” said Sam Morton. “Now you can’t kick anybody.”

“What?” said Elizabeth.

“Don’t people kick other people on the Internet?”

“Oh, gawd, Morton,” said Elizabeth. “I’m assuming you mean Kik messaging. Yes, it means I can’t Kik anybody.”

“And this is a tragedy?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “It’s inconvenient, Morton,” she said. “Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat…nothing works. I’m so out of touch. Anything could be happening and I have no way of knowing.”

Sam chuckled. “If your life revolves around social media, why in the world would you come to an island where things like electricity and the Internet are famously difficult to come by?”

“If you must know, I’ve been invited to Beau Resort to sign a modelling contract. Some of us plan to do more with our lives than parade naked sluts on stage.”

“Of course,” said Sam. “My mistake. Obviously parading underfed models with fifteen-inch waists existing on a thousand calories per day as the norm for what women should look like is a much more appropriate approach to promoting healthy body image and self-respect for girls.”

Elizabeth snorted. “So you consider yourself a champion for women’s self-worth?”

Sam grinned. “Sure,” he said. “Why not? All women are born with built-in value between their legs. I just help them cash in on that value.”

“While you just happen to make a pile of money from it yourself, right?” said Elizabeth, her voice vibrant with disgust.

“Of course,” said Sam. “That’s the way it should be. I give ’em a way to show off what they got, to make their money. It’s only right I get some of the sugar as well.”

Elizabeth looked at Sam with revulsion. “You leave a snail-like trail behind you when you walk, don’t you, Morton?”

Sam chuckled. “At least I’m not a hypocrite like you, honey,” he said. “I see the world for what it is. You act like you’re above it, but if the guy offering you this modelling contract says, ‘Hey, before we do this, why don’t you introduce yourself to my Mister Happy first?’, I guarantee you’ll jump on his cock so fast, we’ll hear a sonic boom.”

“No need to be disgusting, Morton, “ said Elizabeth. “And you’re wrong. Even if I did that, it would be for my benefit, not the benefit of a bunch of drooling dogs.”

Sam said, “Selling high is still selling, sweetheart.”

Elizabeth looked Sam up and down, then said, “And shit in a silk stocking is still shit.”

* * *

Aubrey pushed Rena backward onto the bed. Then she climbed on top of Rena and straddled the therapist’s hips.

“You look even better when you’re not wearing that blouse,” said Aubrey, leaning down and giving Rena’s neck a lick. “Now let’s work on that bra.”

Rena purred and lifted her shoulder, giving Aubrey access to the clip in back. Then she held her arms straight so Aubrey could slide the bra off Rena’s body.

Aubrey then began licking Rena’s nipples. Rena cooed and arched her back.

* * *

Tori reached out and wrapped her fingers around Eric’s cock.

“If you come,” said Tori, “I’ll have to punish you.”

Eric whimpered. His engorged cock pulsed in her hand, dangerously close to exploding.

Hannah giggled into Tori’s pussy as she stroked her tongue over her mistress’s clit again and again.

“Mmmmmmm,” said Tori, her eyes glittering maliciously. “Such a good girl. Such a good pussy-licker you are, Hannah.”

Eric moaned around his gag. His cock was growing hotter, harder.

“Oh, yessss,” said Tori. “I’m going to come, little boy. But you can’t. Not yet. Mommy will tell you when you’re allowed to come.”

Hannah continued licking Tori’s pussy without pause. Her cheeks and chin were wet, covered with Tori’s juices.

“Oh, yessssss,” said Tori. “I think you lick pussy better now than you did before, baby girl. Such a good little pussy-licker.”

If Hannah heard, she gave no indication. She continued working Tori’s hot button with her tongue.

Eric wriggled, trying desperately not to move his cock trapped within Tori’s fist, trying desperately not to release.

Tori murmured slightly, then moaned. And then her breath hissed between her teeth as she cupped the back of Hannah’s head, pressing the blonde girl’s face against her wet sex. Tori’s hips bucked as she ground her pelvis against Hannah’s face, smearing her juices over the maid’s features.

After several seconds, Tori finally released Hannah’s head, letting the blonde girl fall back into her kneeling position, pert bottom on her heels.

Tori looked down at her other hand, fingers still wrapped around Eric’s cock. It was covered with a warm, gooey substance.

Tori’s eyes moved up to Eric’s. Her other hand pulled the ball gag from Eric’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, Mommy!” said Eric. “I really tried not to—“

“I warned you that you’d be punished, little boy,” said Tori. She raised her hand and pressed it between his lips, filling his mouth with his own semen. “Now clean Mommy’s hand while she decides how she’s going to punish her bad little boy.”

* * *

“Yessssssssssssssssssssss…!” said Aubrey, her head back, eyes closed as her body exploded in complete release.

Moments later, Aubrey collapsed to the bed, her naked body heaving. Rena sat up from between Aubrey’s legs and smiled.

The therapist got to her feet and gently rolled Aubrey onto her belly. Then Rena straddled the back of the professor’s legs and began gently massaging Aubrey’s back.

“Orgasms improve circulation to the organs,” said Rena, her fingers gently rubbing the tension from Aubrey’s back muscles. “Orgasm also releases increased levels of oxytocin and helps the body’s natural detoxification processes. It promotes an increased sense of wellness, boosts infection-fighting cells and even elevates pain thresholds.”

Aubrey murmured into her pillow, her eyes closing of their own accord.

“But most important of all,” continued Rena, now speaking even softer, “is that it induces deep relaxation by boosting endorphin levels and flushing out cortisol. Complete relaxation. The kind of relaxation one might experience when completely at peace. The kind of relaxation you feel enveloping your body right now, Aubrey. A deep, heavy relaxation. You can feel the tension slowly leaving your muscles, can’t you, Aubrey?”

Aubrey murmured, barely audible.

“Your limbs are heavy, Aubrey. So heavy. So deep. You’re going deeper, aren’t you, Aubrey? You feel so good. So relaxed. No need to move. Total relaxation, enveloped in warmth, a warm, safe cocoon. Complete relaxation. So warm. So deep. You’re going deeper, aren’t you, Aubrey. So deep. You hear only my voice.”

Aubrey murmured again, drooling into her pillow.

* * *

“Son of a bitch!” said Paul.

“What’s wrong, supercop?” said Joan McKatt.

Paul gave the private detective a look. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“It wouldn’t be any fun if you did want me to call you that, now, would it?” said McKatt.

“Whatever,” said the security man. “Anyway, I’m getting pissed because I’m trying to get hold of Mister Beau and I can’t. No phone signal, no wifi, nothing. And I can’t figure out why.”

McKatt said, “Probably just an outage. I wouldn’t get too worked up about it yet.”

“We’re on an island,” said Paul. “I’d really prefer we be able to stay in touch with the mainland, okay?”

McKatt grinned. The security man was fine as long as his toys worked, but put him in a situation where he had to rely on himself instead of his tools and he got flustered. No wonder he was a rent-a-cop.

“Worried, supercop?”

Paul gave McKatt a dark look. “I’m not comfortable with everything I’ve seen, okay? And I’m not sure I trust everyone here.”

McKatt gave Straight a sudden look. “Oh?”

The security man nodded, still frowning. “Tori hasn’t liked me at all since I got here,” he said. “She runs this place like her little kingdom. Order the serfs around, you know? But I don’t go for that.”

“Like a kingdom, you say?” said McKatt.

Paul nodded. “Yeah. Keeps the others on a tight leash. Literally, I suspect. You think it was an accident Hannah kept calling Tori ‘Mistress’? And her husband jumps six feet in the air if Tori says ‘boo’.”

McKatt eyes narrowed in thought. “What’s wrong with that?”

Paul grunted. “Nothing,” he said. “But I don’t fit into their little commune. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out Tori set up that little recording scene just to make me look bad. Just to get me fired.”

Paul stalked off then, muttering to himself. McKatt’s eyes remained narrowed in thought.

* * *

Aubrey’s eyes snapped open. She sat up, still naked.

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” said Rena. She was dressed.

“Evening?” said Aubrey. “Did I sleep that long?”

Rena nodded. “You were out like a light,” she said. “The evening meal will be served shortly. I’m going to my room to shower. I’ll see you at dinner, then?”

Aubrey nodded. “Yes, of course,” she said. She got to her feet and stretched, back arched, her modest breasts poking out. “Good heavens, but I feel great. You’re really therapeutic, aren’t you?”

Rena laughed. “That’s my job.”

* * *

With Hannah essentially incapacitated, the kitchen was even more shorthanded, but with Tori’s help, dinner was brought out and served in relatively short order.

“This beef wellington is excellent,” said Rena. “Please offer my compliments to your husband.”

Tori was refilling the water glasses at each table setting. “I shall certainly tell him you said so, Miss Lacke.”

Sam sniffed the air. “And my compliments to your perfume, Miss Besting.”

Elizabeth cut Sam a look, unsure if he was being sarcastic or not. She settled on ignoring him.

Sam said through a mouthful of food, “So will Hannah be joining us this evening?”

Tori shook her head. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “Hannah’s present, um, mindset appears to be interfering with her sense of social norms.”

Sam gave Tori a look. “What does that mean?”

Tori looked exasperated. “It means she won’t keep her clothes on, Mr.Morton. No matter what we put on her, she keeps taking it off.”

Sam looked amused. “That’s a bad thing?”

“Yes, Mr.Morton,” said Tori firmly. “For dinner at the Beau Island Resort, that’s a bad thing.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Do you really need to be so base, Morton? Don’t you get enough at your bar?”

Sam took a swallow of his drink. “Naked women are like Jell-o, sweetheart. There’s always room for more.”

Elizabeth gave Sam a dark look. “You’re pretty fucking tasteless, you know that, Morton?”

Sam shrugged. “You’re oh-so-offended right now, Lizzy, but once you walk away from this table, you couldn’t care less about Hannah, could you? You’ll go to your room and post on Facebook about this jerk you had dinner with and how poor the service is and you’ll re-post a meme or talk about your cat or whatever, but you won’t say a word about Hannah, will you?”

Elizabeth stabbed at her salad with her fork. “Don’t assume anything about me, Morton. You don’t know me.”

Sam bleated a laugh. “Why not? You’re assuming the worst about me. But I’m the only one here who will actually do something for the girl.”

Elizabeth looked up. “You’re going to do something for Hannah? You?”

Sam nodded. “Sure. I’m going to offer her a job at my club.”

Everyone at the table stared at Sam incredulously.

Elizabeth was shaking her head. “You know, I’m beginning to believe what the recording said about you, Morton. You really do slutify women and put them to work at your bar, don’t you?”

Sam laughed and spoke through a mouthful of food. “Yeah, I hear nonsense like that all the time. ‘He takes girls off the street and turns them into stripper sluts! Sam Morton is a baaaaaaaaad man!’ People can believe what they want.”

Joan McKatt suddenly spoke. “Do you remember the name Sarah Wright, Morton?”

Sam hesitated only a moment before saying, “No. Should I?”

“It was a missing persons case from a couple years ago,” said McKatt, taking a bite of her dinner. “I was on the Chrystal Heights force then. Sarah Wright was an eighteen-year-old college student. Worked as a waitress to make some money. Nice girl, good student, stayed out of trouble. Sarah met a girl, though, and they became friends. They hung out more and more. Not long after that, Sarah disappeared. Her friend became a person of interest.”

“Yeah?” said Sam. “So? What does that have to do with anything?”

“The girl was from Darkview. Worked there, actually. Name of Carol Ann Castor.”

Sam said, “You say that like it should mean something to me, McKatt.”

“It should,” said the black detective. “She was an associate of yours.”

The bar owner shook his head. “I can’t say the name rings a bell.”

“I see,” said McKatt. “Perhaps you’d remember her better as Anastasia.”

“Anastasia?” said Sam, taking another bite of his beef wellington. “Yeah, I think I remember her. You think she was involved?”

“It’s interesting that you’re having trouble recalling her,” said Joan, “since she operated as a recruiter for you.”

Sam snorted. “Recruiter? I don’t think so.”

The ex-cop smiled tolerantly. “Whatever you say, Morton. I wasn’t assigned to the case, but I was friends with one of the detectives on the job.”

Sam took another bite of food. “Police work sounds like a real blast. So did you ever find this missing girl?”

“No,” said Joan. “The prevailing opinion was that Carol Ann—excuse me, Anastasia—tricked or convinced Sarah to work at your bar.”

“Really?” said Sam. “Fascinating. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve never had a ‘Sarah’ working for me.”

“Interesting post-script to this story, Morton,” said Joan. “Last year I ran into my friend who worked Sarah’s case. He was over in Darkview on unrelated business, but decided to stop at your establishment for a drink or two.”

“I wish I had known,” said Sam. “I’m always happy to provide the fine members of law enforcement a drink on the house, as well as a free lap dance.”

“I doubt Frank would have accepted,” said Joan. “He was always a straight arrow. But anyway, Frank stopped by for a drink. And while he was there, he noticed that one of your dancers—Trinity, her name was—bore an uncanny resemblance to Sarah Wright.”

“So one of my dancers resembled your missing girl,” said Sam. “Big deal.”

McKatt continued. “Frank is a dedicated kind of guy. So he went back to the office and looked over the pictures. He was positive that Trinity was Sarah. But when he went back to your bar, Morton, Trinity wasn’t working there anymore.”

Sam took another bite of food. “Yeah, I remember. She just up and quit without saying why.”

McKatt said, “Strange that, right? Of course, word on the street was that she had been moved—or sold—to another bar. But that could have just been street-talk, right?”

Sam grunted. “Can’t believe everything you hear on the street, detective,” he said. “After all, that same street talk suggested that you had your own bit of scandal, right? Even in Darkview we heard that Officer McKatt of the Chrystal Heights wasn’t one to cross. In fact, you were being investigated, weren’t you? And something happened to the internal affairs officer investigating you. Became a woman and got turned into a hooker, I heard. Just like the recording said. But that could just be street-talk, right, detective?”

McKatt’s eyes darkened and a sudden ominous silence loomed over the dinner table.

“All right, enough,” said Tori. “I am loathe to tell grown adults how to conduct dinner conversation, but I will not have the other guests upset. Besides, I’m sure we all know better than to take that recording seriously.”

“Agreed,” said Rena, speaking for the first time since complimenting the entrée. “The mere suggestion that a professional person such as myself could be involved with anything as scandalous as that recording suggested is preposterous. I can’t imagine where such a thing could have come from.”

Elizabeth picked at her salad. “I know, right?” she said, suddenly appearing more animated. “I mean, that stupid recording was just spewing accusations all over the place. It even tried to blame me for what happened to Chloe Carlton! Ess-em-aitch.”

Aubrey said, “I remember it. That hazing incident with Chloe Carlton…you were involved with that?”

“Hardly involved,” said Elizabeth. “Chloe was trying to get into our sorority last year. So yeah, we had some fun with her. With all the freshman applicants. What happened to Chloe was just bad luck, you know?”

Aubrey gave Elizabeth a look. “The girl got turned into a mind-controlled Darkview hooker.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Like I said, it was bad luck.”

Aubrey pressed on. “Wait a minute…it slipped my mind this afternoon, but aren’t you the Liz Besting that was in charge of the sorority event when Chloe got taken?”

“Yes,” said Elizabeth, staring at her phone.

“Are you saying you don’t feel at least a little responsible?” said Aubrey.

“Of course I feel bad it happened and stuff,” said Elizabeth. “But it was just bad luck.”

“Bad luck for you or for Chloe?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Well, for her, of course, but for me as well. I mean, everyone was trying to blame me for what happened! Like I planned it or something. It was so unfair.”

Aubrey’s eyes narrowed. “So inconvenient, right? But there were some who suggested that you were the hottest girl in that sorority until Chloe came along and that you didn’t appreciate being displaced.”

“Whatever,” said Elizabeth, waving her hand. “I didn’t have it out for Chloe. Everyone knows that. If people really thought I had anything to do with it, Carlos Mandrake wouldn’t be coming out here tomorrow to sign me to a modeling contract.”

Rena said gently, “There was no proof that Elizabeth intentionally set that girl up, Aubrey. Perhaps you should drop it.”

Aubrey laughed. “What a pure-hearted, blameless group we have here! Everybody innocent of their accusations! Except for me, of course. We already know I’m guilty, right?” Aubrey turned to Dr. Lin. “How about you, Doctor? Are you innocent too?”

Dr. Lin gave Aubrey a dark look. “I won’t even stoop to defend myself, professor. Think what you like.”

Aubrey grinned. “How about you, Tori? You and Chef Eric innocent too?”

Tori did not look amused. “I don’t think it at all necessary to defend my husband and I from that slander you heard this afternoon. However, I will say that Abigail Tassel had made herself several enemies over the course of her career and nobody was sorry to see her turned into a silly, sex-obsessed bimbo.”

Joan said, “That was never solved either, was it?”

Tori locked eyes with Joan, then said, “No, it wasn’t. Eric and I were interviewed, of course, but the authorities were eventually satisfied that we had nothing to do with it.”

Joan said, “Let me guess. With Abigail out of the way, new opportunities suddenly appeared for Eric? And for you by extension, since you operate as his business manager?”

Tori stirred angrily. “As a matter of fact, yes, we did benefit from that bitch being taken down, so yeah, I’m glad it happened. And I’ll tell you something else, Miss McKatt. I do not have to answer to you or anyone else on this matter, so I’ll thank you to drop it.” Joan lowered her voice then and took a step closer to the table. “And I mean immediately.”

The table went silent at the stark menace suddenly emanating from the Beau Island Resort’s manager.

Paul looked up from his meal. “Tori,” he said, “maybe you should get a drink of water or something. This isn’t helping.”

Tori exhaled. “You’re right, of course. I apologize, Miss McKatt. I still become angered at the memory of how we were treated during the course of that investigation. As if we were criminals! But I should not have directed it at you in that manner. Please accept my apologies.”

Joan waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. Not a big deal. Although it’s weird seeing supercop there actually do something useful for once.”

Paul stirred angrily. “Is it really necessary to call me that? And I do plenty of useful things.”

“Like what?”

“Security!” said Paul. “I keep everything here secure, all right? And I—”

Elizabeth giggled. “But you haven’t fixed the wifi yet, cutie.”

Paul stared at Elizabeth. “What?”

Elizabeth gave him a sultry look, her tongue running over her plump lips. “C’mon, cutie,” she said. “Fix the wifi already. I’ll blow you if you do.”

Paul tried to respond, but stammered too much to be understood.

“A blowjob?” said Sam. “Hell, I’ll get the Internet working to get some of that.”

Elizabeth perked up. “Yeah? Weally? That would be…would be…super-duper! I would soooooo take your whole cock in my mouth and just…suck it dry.”

As the shocked guests watched, Elizabeth’s nipples hardened. She began squirming, as if the talk of giving blowjobs was arousing her. Then she stuck her thumb between her lips and began pumping her mouth with the saliva-soaked digit.

“No…no…not again,” said Tori. “Dammit…not again!”

Rena got to her feet and walked to Elizabeth’s chair. Dr. Lin stood as well.

“Elizabeth, honey?” said Rena. “I think you better come with us.”

* * *

Rena, Tori and Dr. Lin entered the lobby. The other guests and staff were gathered there as well.

“Well?” said Aubrey.

Tori appeared angry. “Same as Hannah,” she said. “Miss Besting has become a…a horny bimbo, for lack of a better descriptor.”

Rena shook her head. “I think that’s too broad an overview, Mrs. Parker,” she said. “Similar, yes, but not the same. Hannah appears focused on removing her clothing, while Miss Besting appears to be more interested in…ah…performing oral sex.”

Sam snorted. “The stuck-up model wanna-be is now a blowjob bimbo? That’s rich.”

Tori gave Sam a glare. “You’re not funny, Mr. Morton, and I would thank you to keep such comments to yourself.”

Dr. Lin said, “Physically speaking, Miss Besting is fine, as is the maid. The changes in behavior are almost certainly being caused by foreign elements being introduced to their systems. Without bloodwork, however, I cannot be more specific than that.”

“Hmm,” said Paul. “Through food, perhaps? Both instances happened during a meal, after all.”

Eric Parker’s face darkened. “There’s nothing wrong with the food, Straight. Maybe if you did your job as resort security, our guests and staff wouldn’t be turning into bimbos.”

Paul glared at Eric. “Doing my job? I’d love to be able to do my job…if certain parties weren’t working so hard to fucking sabotage me. What’s the set-up? You stick bimbo formula in their salad dressing and your wife covers it up for you? What’s the end game? You and your wife not getting enough from each other and now you want a whole island of bimbo slaves?”

Tori stepped forward. “Paul!” she said. “Enough! I will not have you speak to my husband like that!”

Paul opened his mouth to retort, but stopped as Rena began speaking.

“Can we please stop with the squabbling?” said Rena. “Despite the accusations flying back and forth, there is no proof that someone intentionally altered the mindsets of Hannah or Elizabeth.”

Rena turned to Dr. Lin.

“Doctor,” said Rena, “is it possible that these two cases could have occurred due to local phenomenon?”

The Asian woman was silent as she considered the question. Then she said, “The maid has been exposed to the island for—I assume—several days, at least. Miss Besting, however, has been present on this island for a couple hours. For symptoms this serious to occur not once, but twice…I would say it highly unlikely it was due to a natural exposure.”

“Highly unlikely, yes…but impossible?”

Dr. Lin looked unhappy. “Not impossible, no.”

Rena nodded. “Thank you for your input, doctor,” she said. “I would also like to add to what you said. Although both individuals have been afflicted with…let’s call it less inhibited behavior…it appears to have individualized presentation.”

Sam said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Rena laughed. “Sorry, Sam,” she said. “I just meant that Hannah and Elizabeth may have the same condition, but they’re acting differently from each other. Hannah insists on remaining nude and touching herself, while Elizabeth wants to perform oral sex on whoever happens to be close by.”

Aubrey said, “Why is that significant?”

“The physical symptoms are similar,” said Rena, “but the psychological effects appear to be individualized. That would suggest a natural occurrence to me. Many people can catch the same cold from each other, but it will generally present differently in each case. I would think a man-made chemical would produce a more consistent psychological reaction.”

McKatt said, “All right…I suppose it could happen that way. Theoretically.”

Rena’s eyebrows arched. “You find it more likely that someone came to this island and decided to start randomly feeding mind-altering chemicals to strangers? The mechanics alone would be daunting. And I certainly can’t imagine a motive.”

McKatt held Rena’s gaze for several moments, then said, “Daunting? Yes. But not impossible. As to a motive…”

The black detective glanced around the room, taking in each of their faces. Then she spoke in a voice that was a near-perfect replication of the recording they had all heard earlier that day.

“Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say in your defense?”

NEXT: Part 3