The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The sunrise as viewed from Beau Island is beautiful. But none of the guests or staff chose to take advantage of the spectacular view this morning.

Some of the guests ate a breakfast. Some of them did not. Some just had coffee, although they wouldn’t drink it until an exasperated Tori, manager of the Beau Island Resort, drank two cups in quick succession to show it was completely safe.

There was a strange foreboding to the day, a sense that something was going to change, a feeling that a new dynamic was in play or would be soon.

Some of that could be written off as anticipation of the morning ferry. A number of guests and staff expected to arrive on this morning’s ferry would almost certainly change the shape of the social strata at the resort and that created a certain breathless expectancy in some of the guests.

And some of the grim foreboding could easily be attested to the knowledge that two of their party- the unfortunate Hannah Evens, a Beau Island Resort maid, and the equally unfortunate guest, the socialite Elizabeth Besting- had been turned into bubble-headed, sexually needy bimbos yesterday. The maid during lunch, the socialite during the evening meal.

And some of it could even be due to the fact that the owner of the Beau Island Resort- Mister Benjamin Ian-Merigold Beau himself- was due to arrive on the ferry this morning.

But much of the dark gloom hovering over the island came from the knowledge that until the ferry arrived, they were alone on an island, far from the mainland and- as the island was still without wifi or any form of Internet access at the moment- completely isolated from the world.

Some might have called being this free of the living net that covered everything liberating. Others might have called it relaxing.

But to those patiently waiting for the arrival of the ferry- and humanity- from the mainland, it was called being trapped.

”She has no clue. None of them do. Perfect.”

”Did I sell it? Maybe. Not sure. But if today goes right, this whole thing will be worth it.”

”Yes. Yes, of course. I shall make it happen. As I always do.”

”It’s possible. In fact, I think that’s the way to go. Yeah, that should work.”

”I can still salvage this. Misdirection. Yes, that’s the ticket.”

”Jerk. Fucking jerk. I’ll show him. I’ll show them all.”

”They think they know me. They have no idea what I’m about. But they’re going to find out. Boy, are they going to find out.”

”This is what it’s all about. A big stage. The biggest. They’ll all be mine.”

Hannah Evens was- technically speaking- a maid employed by the Beau Island Resort. Her job was- technically speaking- straightening the guest rooms, replacing the used towels and sheets, providing toiletries to any requiring them, dusting the lobby and generally helping any way she could- even in the kitchen, if necessary, as Hannah was presently the only domestic staff person on the island. Another staff person was supposed to be arriving on the ferry later this morning.

The fact that another staff person was due later in the morning was probably a good thing, as Hannah was unable to perform her assigned duties in any meaningful way at this time.

That’s not to say Hannah wasn’t servicing the guests. She was indeed providing a much-appreciated function. But Hannah’s method of ensuring guest satisfaction was likely outside the definition management had assigned to the term customer service.

Hannah was dancing. The blonde girl was naked and her body was moving to a sultry beat, her arms high, her hips softly rolling side-to-side. It was a hot, sensuous dance, and her nipples were hard.

Hannah twirled, bare toes moving with erotic precision. Then she rolled a hip and glanced over her bare shoulder at her audience. She looked through heavy-lidded eyes and slid her tongue over her lips.

Hannah’s audience was very appreciative, even if it only consisted of one person. That one person was seated before Hannah, watching Hannah’s every move. She too was naked, her fingers sliding into her wet sex as she watched the maid’s sensuous dance.

The blonde girl twirled again, then faced her audience of one. She did a dip, licked her lips again and then jiggled her boobs side-to-side.

Dr. Cara Lin smiled as she watched the blonde maid dance. The Asian woman’s fingers stroked into her wet sex with surprising energy, her hips beginning to buck slightly.

Dr. Lin smiled as she felt herself peaking. The blonde maid was so perfect. She was art. Pure art.

Beau Island Resort manager Tori Parker sat down. She glanced at her husband Eric- the resort chef- on one side of the table and at her security man Paul Straight on the other side of the table.

“All right,” said Tori. “Let’s get this staff meeting started.”

“What about Hannah?” asked Eric. “She’s still Beau Resort staff too, you know.”

Tori sighed. “I’m aware of that, sweetie,” she said. “But you know as well as I do that it would be a wasted gesture.”

Eric grumbled. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just…I just feel bad excluding her, that’s all.”

“We all do,” said Tori “but let’s move on. Where are we at in getting communications back up on the island?”

Paul shifted uncomfortably. “Nothing yet. We have no Internet, no wifi, no signal, nothing. Even the shortwave is nothing but static. It’s like we’re being intentionally blocked or jammed.”

“That’s not an acceptable answer, Straight,” said Tori. “We’re on a fucking island. We need to get in touch with the mainland and we can’t wait around for you to get your thumb out of your ass.”

Paul flushed. “That’s not fucking fair, Tori. If someone’s jamming everything, we can hardly expect them to walk up to me and say something like, ‘Hey, Paul, come check out this cool jamming unit I set up in my room!’.”

Tori shook her head. “So we’re back to this mysterious espionage agent who is apparently jamming us for his own nefarious purposes. Tell me, have you even checked for the source of this ‘jamming’?”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, Tori. What am I supposed to do…rifle every guest’s room and check for high-tech jamming electronics?”

“If it comes down to that,” said Tori, “then yes, I do expect you to conduct a search using those very parameters. You’re security, remember? But that’s not what I was referring to just now. What I meant was, have you even bothered to search the grounds? Have you checked outside the main building? Have you checked the pool house? The beach? Anything?

Paul opened his mouth to reply, but Tori held up a hand.

“Don’t bother answering,” said the manager, her features stern. “I can already guess the answer. As soon as this meeting ends, you’ll go over the whole resort- with the exception of the guest rooms- to make sure we’re not being intentionally jammed. If at that time you still feel we are being “jammed”, then you will make a discrete check of the guest’s rooms. A discrete check. Do I make myself clear?”

Paul nodded. His teeth were clenched.

Rena Lacke, psychiatrist, and Aubrey Rush, CHU archeology professor with an Indiana Jones reputation, were drinking coffee at the dining room table.

There was a tension between them that was difficult to define. The casual observer might think that the tension was due to the fact that Professor Rush had led an expedition into the Chrystal Mountains and her whole team of grad students- a team that included Rena’s cousin Caroline- had been captured by natives and turned into tribal sex slaves. The casual observer would likely be at least partly right.

However, another casual observer- or better yet, voyeur- might think the tension was more an erotic tension, due to certain extensive activities that had taken place the previous day and again during the night, despite the disruptions that had taken place during the previous day’s meals. And that observer would also be at least partly right.

Joan McKatt, private detective, entered the dining room and set her coffee cup on the table, then sat down. Rena and Aubrey offered the black ex-cop a congenial nod.

McKatt nodded back and took a swallow of her black coffee. Then she said, “Well, what do you think?”

Rena and Aubrey looked at each other, then at McKatt.

“What are you referring to, detective?” said Rena.

Joan gave Rena a look. “Stop it, Lacke,” said the ex-cop. “You know what I mean. Who do you think is doing it? Who’s trying to turn the whole resort into a brainless sorority?”

Rena gave a half-smile. “Why, detective. You have such a suspicious mind.”

McKatt snorted. “Oh, please, Lacke,” she said. “Don’t blow smoke at me. And don’t try to pretend you’re so naïve that you think it’s all coincidence or ‘local elements’. You know damn well someone intentionally bimboed the maid and the model wannabe.”

Rene sighed. “Yes, I’m forced to agree with you that it was intentional. I suppose the question is whether it was just intended for those two or if the person responsible plans more.”

McKatt said, “I’ve been trying to think of something that connects the maid to Elizabeth Besting. Something that would indicate why the two of them specifically would be targets. But I’m not coming up with anything. Granted, it would be a lot easier if we could interview friends and family members, but I suspect it wouldn’t change anything.”

“Are you sure, Joan?” said Aubrey. “I mean, maybe there’s a connection we’re just not aware of. What if Elizabeth wasn’t really coming here to be a model?”

Rena and McKatt gave Aubrey an odd look.

Aubrey held up a hand. “Hear me out,” she said. “What if Elizabeth and Hannah were actually a team of criminals working together to steal from the guests? Hannah could conceivably snatch items while she was cleaning and then pass them to Elizabeth. Somebody found out and decided to stop them. Or get revenge, maybe.”

Rena said, “Imaginative, I’ll grant you, but an unlikely scenario.”

“Why?” said Aubrey.

McKatt took a swallow of coffee. “Sorry, professor, but Lacke is right. That’s a high-risk job and the mechanics just don’t fly. For one, an escape route is always a top priority. No criminal is going to trap themselves on an island. Two, nobody’s gonna bring anything to this island worth taking that kind of risk for.”

“We don’t know that,” said Aubrey. “Aren’t Benjamin Beau and his wife arriving this morning? Maybe they’re bringing something with them.”

McKatt rolled her eyes. “You’re a writer, aren’t you?”

Aubrey grinned. “Yep. Adventure stories.”

Joan grumbled. “I should have known.”

“Now,” said Tori, “on to the next order of business. We have several guests and employees arriving in the next hour or so.”

Paul nodded. “Yeah. According to the docket, we should be getting another maid on the ferry, along with a kitchen helper for Eric and a bellhop slash attendant to help guests with their luggage to and from the ferry.”

“About time,” said Eric. “I’m a chef, not a waiter.”

“I was hoping for an overnight attendant as well,” said Tori, “but I suppose Mr. Beau hasn’t found anyone yet. How many more guests are we expecting?”

“Several,” said Paul. “A network producer of some sort is supposed to be staying here for a few days, for one. Some model recruiter also. And a couple other bigwigs as well. Beau should have sent more help.”

“Network producers?” said Eric. “Is that for me…?”

“You mean ‘us’, sweetie,” said Tori, “and I don’t know. Didn’t one of the guests say something about meeting a network representative this weekend?”

Paul nodded. “Rena Lacke said something about that. The psychiatrist.”

Tori looked frustrated for a moment. Then her features relaxed. “Well, maybe the network representative is doing double-duty on this trip.”

Paul nodded. “Maybe.”

Tori suddenly looked sharply at Paul. “Wait. Aren’t you supposed to meet the new guests at the dock?

Paul said, “Yes, I am. The ferry was supposed to arrive early this morning to pick me up. I was hoping to slip Hannah and Elizabeth Besting onto the ferry and get them off the island before Mr. Beau arrived, but the ferry never showed.”

Tori’s face darkened. “You were going to do that without checking with me first?”

Paul sighed. “Look, Tori, I realize you don’t like me and to be honest, I don’t care for you either, but we need to work together on this, all right? Did you really want Mr. Beau arriving to find a couple of unscheduled bimbos?”

Tori opened her mouth to deliver a retort, but then changed her mind. Finally she said, “I suppose not.”

“Exactly,” said Paul. “I figured also it would give me a chance to brief him before he got here. I really didn’t want him walking into this unexpectedly.”

“Good point, Straight,” conceded Tori. “All right, it was a good idea. You still should have told me, though. But more to the point, why didn’t the ferry arrive this morning?”

“Could be anything,” said Paul. “Early morning high seas likely prevented the pilot from being able to land the boat on our beach. He probably tried to radio us to let us know, but…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. No communications,” said Tori. “All right, that makes sense, but it still screws us.”

“It’s not ideal,” said Paul, “but I’ll meet Mr. Beau at the beach when the ferry gets here and I’ll brief him then.” he leaned back in his chair, eyes closed and shaking his head. “He’s not going to be happy.”

“I imagine not,” said Tori. “No communication with the mainland, no signal, no reception, a guest and an employee bimboed and we have no clue who did it.”

Eric suddenly laughed. “No idea who did it?” he said. “I think it’s pretty damn obvious who did it.”

“So tell me,” said McKatt. “Who did it?”

Rena offered a half-smile. “I assume you’re excepting the three of us as the potential villain?”

“I except no one,” said McKatt. “Everyone’s a suspect until proven otherwise. But yeah, you and the prof are low on the list.”

“Why so, detective?”

Aubrey suddenly said, “Because we’re professionals, right?”

Rena turned to Aubrey. “I beg your pardon?”

Aubrey said, “Well, of everyone on the island right now, we’re the professionals. You’re a top-flight psychiatrist, I’m a university professor and Joan is a police officer.”

“Ex-police officer,” said McKatt.

“Okay, ex-police officer, but still a professional position.”

“What about Dr. Lin?” said Rena, sounding amused.

Aubrey shook her head. “Didn’t she have her license revoked or something like that? Besides, even if she didn’t, she’s a strange fish. I have no problem picturing her doing something exactly like that.”

Rena offered another half-smile. “And the others? You don’t consider hospitality management a professional position? Or a chef? Or security consultant?”

McKatt laughed. “’Security consultant’? That’s generous of you, Rena, I think calling Straight a ‘security consultant’ is giving him too much credit.”

Rena said, “Interesting. You don’t think he’s qualified for his position?”

McKatt thought for a moment before speaking. Then she said, “I’m not yet sure. He’s no dummy, I’ll agree, but I don’t think he does well under pressure. Ever since that recording, it’s like he’s trying to check everything at once, but not getting anything done. Scrambling. Like he’s still a security guard at heart trying to do a job too big for him.”

Rena said, “How about Tori Parker, the resort manager?”

McKatt said, “Parker’s a possibility. A real commanding presence, that one. She’s got her husband completely under her thumb and I’m pretty sure the maid was too, before her accident. And probably even more so now. Straight’s “island of bimbo slaves” concept sounded silly at the time, but now I’m starting to wonder.”

Aubrey said, “You seriously think she wants an island of bimbo slaves?”

“I see the writer is diving back into creative mode,” said McKatt dryly. “I didn’t say I thought that was the case. I just said the concept fits her personality. But I don’t see how she could pull something like that off under the nose of her boss.”

“Benjamin Beau?”

McKatt nodded. “It’s Beau’s island, right? And his resort. So no, I can’t see the bimbo island concept working.”

Rena pushed on. “How about Tori’s husband Eric?”

McKatt said, “The celebrity chef? Not impossible, I suppose, but doubtful. I’d probably put him last of all.”

Aubrey said, “Last? Really? You do remember both bimbifications occurred during meals, right?”

McKatt nodded. “I’m aware of that, prof. But that feels like white noise to me. Distraction, savvy? Chef-Boy-R-D has a pretty smile and probably looks good on television, but I’m pretty sure Tori’s the brains of that operation. If he’s got the smarts to pull off a stunt like this, then he’s a much better actor than anyone I’ve ever met and I’ll tip my gorram hat to him.”

Rena smiled at Joan’s statement. “You appear to feel very strongly, detective.”

Joan shrugged. “I was a cop before I was a detective. You get a feel for people and their motives.”

Rena said, “Motives, detective? What could motivate someone to turn people into aroused bimbos?”

Joan smiled. “You’re really not familiar with Chrystal Heights or Darkview, are you, Lacke?”

Lacke stirred. “I’m familiar enough with Chrystal Heights, detective. I simply meant—“

McKatt held up her hand. “I apologize, Lacke, and yes, I understand what you meant. To answer your question, typical motives usually involve power, love, money, revenge or sex. Money or power most often.”

“But this doesn’t appear to fall into any of those categories, detective,” said Rena.

“I know,” said McKatt. “The recording wants to make us believe this is about justice.”

The giggling redhead dropped to her knees. She reached out and grasped the zipper, then pulled it down. The sound of the zipper coming undone made the nipples of her non-existent breasts harden.

Sam Morton didn’t wear underwear, so Elizabeth Besting had no trouble pulling out his substantial cock.

“That-a-girl, Lizzy,” said Sam. “You know what to do with that, right?”

Lizzy giggled, Sam’s words barely registering. He was saying something, but it wasn’t important. What was important was the yummy cock right in front of her.

His meat was heavy in her hand. Thick. Lizzy lifted it, ran her tongue along the underside. Her belly muscles twitched as she did so.

The guy’s cock hardened then, hardened right up, totally rigid. She slid the bulbous head between her lips, taking as much of his shaft into her mouth as she could.

She was having a super hard time fitting more of his cock in her mouth…he was so big! But suddenly her throat relaxed and she could feel that fat head of his dick sliding into her throat. This was great! Gawd, she loved having a cock in her mouth!

Her lips now wrapped firmly around Sam’s shaft, Lizzy starting pumping his cock with her warm, wet mouth.

His dick was now a rigid bar of steel in her mouth. She stroked her lips over his shaft again and again, feeling her heat build as he neared his peak.

And then Sam or whatever his name was exploded in her mouth, shooting wave after wave of hot seed down Lizzy’s throat.

Lizzy gasped, the thin girl’s eyes widening as the sensation of her belly filling with sperm triggered her own release. Her moans were muffled by the cock in her mouth, but she didn’t mind at all, because sucking cock was…was…was totally awesome and stuff.

Tori and Paul stared at Eric in amazement.

“You know who did it?” said Tori. “Are you serious?”

Eric nodded. “Sure I know who did it.”

Tori and Paul said in unison, “Well?!”

There was complete silence for several heartbeats. Then Eric said, “The butler did it!”

Paul groaned and rolled his eyes. Tori sighed.

“Sorry, luv,” said Eric. “I couldn’t resist.”

Paul shook his head. “Next time you have that urge,” he said, “please rise above it.”

Eric grinned, then said, “I’ll do my best.”

Paul glanced at the clock. “Look, the ferry’s going to be here soon. I’ll do a quick search in the outer buildings, then go down to the dock to meet the ferry. I’ll grab Mr. Beau as soon as he gets off the boat. What does he look like?”

Tori glanced at Paul in surprise. “You don’t know?”

Paul shook his head. “I’ve never met him in person. Everything involving my employment was done electronically.”

Tori’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s interesting. It was the same with us. Didn’t it strike you a bit odd?”

“Hell, yeah, it struck me as weird,” said Paul, “but everything checked out. My signing bonus was delivered to my account just like he said it would be. Some of my previous employers said they had been contacted for references. Like I said, it was weird, but sometimes rich people have some odd habits, you know? Besides,” he said, his cheeks reddening, “I needed the job. I didn’t want to shake the boat by asking questions.”

“Hmm,” said Tori. “All right, go check the outer buildings, then go down to the dock. Eric, you need to go start getting lunch ready.”

Paul nodded and headed out the door, followed by Eric.

Tori didn’t move. She remained sitting at the table for several minutes afterward. Then she stood and headed for the door.

Rena met McKatt’s gaze squarely.

“Justice, detective?” said Rena. “Do you think truly think a Batman syndrome is what we are facing here?”

McKatt grimaced. “I’m too jaded to buy it myself, counselor, regardless of what the recording said. But right now we have damned little to work with.”

Aubrey said, “You’ve given us your opinion of the resort staff, detective. What about the guests?”

“Outside ourselves, you mean?” said McKatt. “That’s more promising, actually. I think that Doctor Lin is a couple beverages short of a six-pack.”

“Interesting,” said Rena. “And Mr. Morton?”

McKatt was quiet for several heartbeats. Then she said, “With absolutely nothing to go on, knowing only what we know, Morton is the one I would tap as the perp.”

Rena and Aubrey glanced at each other, then back to McKatt.

Aubrey said, “What makes you say that, Joan?”

McKatt shook her head. “Just a feeling. Don’t make anything more of it than that.”

But Rena said, “But you’re not just going by what we know, are you, detective? You’ve dealt with Mr. Morton before, haven’t you?”

McKatt shook her head resolutely. “Not personally, no. But like I said at dinner last night, I’d heard of him and his club before I ever got here. His club’s got a shady rep. And so does he, for that matter. I have no proof, of course, but setting up a number of bimbifications in an out-of-the-way place sounds like his M.O.”

Aubrey said, “You sound like you might have some doubts, detective.”

McKatt shrugged.

A giggle caught their attention. Turning, they watched Dr. Lin and a very naked Hannah walk into the dining room.

“Good morning,” said Dr. Lin. “Where is the coffee?”

“You’re sure you checked everywhere?” said Tori.

Paul stood in front of her. He was disheveled from his search and his body language was that of frustration.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” said Paul. “I didn’t find anything that even looked close to a jammer.”

“And the ferry?”

Paul shook his head. “No sign.”

Tori shook her head. “What the hell is going on?”

Paul shrugged, his frustration still evident. “No clue. And I don’t like it. Something is off here. Way off. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“All right,” said Tori. “Play it cool in front of the guests. No hysterics. Got it?”

“Geez, Tori,” said Paul. “Of course I get it.”

“All right, then,” said Tori. “Now go let the guests know we’re about to serve lunch. And for Pete’s sake, make sure you play down the fact that the ferry hasn’t arrived yet.”

“I said all right, Tori,” said Paul. “Try to have at least a little faith in me. Geez.”

The first door Paul knocked on was McKatt’s. She answered moments later.

“What’s up, supercop?” said Joan.

Paul rolled his eyes. “You really have to call me that, don’t you?”

“I don’t have to, no,” said McKatt, “but I feel much better when I do.”

“Goody for you,” said Straight. “Lunch is being served in a few minutes.”

“All right,” said McKatt. “Save me a seat.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” said Paul dryly.

The security man knocked on the shrink Rena Lacke’s door next and he received no reply. Then he knocked on Professor Aubrey Rush’s door and received a similar non-reply.

After informing Dr. Lin and Sam Morton of the soon-to-be-served meal, Straight made his way outside to the pool area. There he found Rena sunning herself on the deck.

“Miss Lacke,” said the security man, “lunch will be served shortly.”

“Thank you, Mr. Straight,” said Rena.

Paul then said, “Do you by chance know where I might find Professor Rush, Miss Lacke?”

“Hmm,” said Rena. “I believe she said something about exploring the island, Mr. Straight. That was some time earlier, though.”

Paul nodded. “Thank you, Miss Lacke,” he said. “If you should see her, could you please let her know that—“

A sudden stream of swear words punctured the surrounding calm. Than a crash of breaking glass.

Paul spun and dashed inside, running toward the sound of the ruckus. He dashed inside the dining room, where some of the guests were already seated. They pointed toward the kitchen, so he ran through the door into the food preparation area.

Eric Parker was sitting on the floor with his back against the back door. He was naked. One fist was pumping his erect cock. He was working his cock with furious gusto, a look of utter bliss on his face.

Tori Parker stood near him, unleashing a string of expletives as she threw anything she could get her hands on against the nearby wall.

“Tori!” said Paul. “What the hell is going on?”

Tori turned and pointed at Eric. “They bimboed him!” she said through clenched teeth. “They bimboed him. They bimboed my husband!”

Dr. Lin and Rena came into the lobby a short time later. The rest of the guests were seated, as was Paul, the security man. The manager Tori remained with Eric in their room.

Aubrey looked up as they entered. “Well?” she said. “What’s the word?

Rena shrugged. “Just like the first two, I’m afraid,” she said. “He’s responsive to physical stimulus and little else.”

“Physical stimulus?” said Sam, sounding amused.

Dr. Lin looked at Sam as if he were something she had scraped off her shoe. “He has maintained a constant erection,” she said, “and he is ejaculating sperm as quickly as his body is able to produce it. And he appears to be indifferent to the manner in which he is brings about his release.”

Paul said, “I’m sorry…indifferent to the manner…?”

Sam said, “In other words, he’d fuck a hole in the wall.”

Paul gave Sam a look, but said nothing.

Rena cleared her throat. “Thank you for that colorful summary, Mr. Morton. Now I’m going to ask that you be a bit more tactful around Chef Parker’s wife Tori. I realize she may strike you as a bit abrasive, but she’s enduring a personal situation at the moment and I ask that you be sensitive to that.”

Sam sounded amused as he said, “Of course I’ll be tactful. But did someone put you in charge here?”

“Not at all, Mr. Morton,” said Rena. “However, we do as a group have to come to an understanding that we appear to be under siege. Would you all agree?”

Everyone glanced at each other. Nobody said anything.

Paul finally said, “There’s something else. The ferry hasn’t shown today. It should have been here hours ago.”

A low murmuring started. Rena held up a hand.

“Mr. Straight,” said Rena, “wasn’t the owner of Beau Island Resort supposed to be arriving on the ferry today?”

Paul nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Benjamin Beau was supposed to be here today.”

“Oh, shit,” said McKatt.

Everyone looked at the black detective.

McKatt sighed. “I just realized something,” she said.

Everyone stared expectantly.

McKatt turned to Paul. “Hey, supercop, a question for you.”

“Really?” said the security man. “You really have to call me that right now?”

The detective ignored his comment. “What’s Beau’s name?”

Paul looked at McKatt strangely. “Benjamin Beau.”

“His full name, I mean.”

Paul blinked. “Benjamin…ahh, Benjamin Ian-Merigold Beau.”

Rena said, “Is that relevant in some way, Miss McKatt?”

Joan nodded. “Yeah, I think it is,” she said. “What are his initials?”

Paul said, “B-I-B…?”

McKatt looked at the security man patiently. “His full initials, supercop.”

“B-I-M-B?”

But the others had already realized what McKatt was referring to. Eyes were widening and mouths were hanging open.

“It’s B-I-M Beau, supercop,” said McKatt. “Bimbo. I think we all got suckered onto this island. And we are now officially in trouble.”