. are always, shall we say, residual subjects in our audience, ladies and gentlemen. These are folks who have been hypnotized unexpectedly along with ...those on stage simply by the power of my voice and my suggestions. It always happens though rather unpredictably."Roger's voice now seemed to have changed and was merely instructive."Don't worry. They are not in any danger... yet anyway... but, I did need to identify our residual subjects clearly... and now we all know who they are. Those who have. When was the interview going to start? These Brits really did beat around the bush too much when it came to business. They loved showing off, and Marchant clearly had plenty to show. Had he come this far for whisky, tea, and slave girls? They're just trying to throw me off base here, he thought.Marchant must have noticed, or read Owen's mind, or something, and said, "Right. Let's get started. OK, I am to present you with the following:" With that, Marchant pressed a button somewhere on. Needless to say , I had no idea that she was named Violet gable. I was fairly sure from looking at her that she was somewhere between 18 and 25 (20, I eventually found out), and that she was a student at the Art Institute since it was nearby and she was using a pencil and an art pad. She was slim and long-bodied (or I guess long-legged, really) and cute if not strikingly beautiful. She had medium-length black hair and dark eyes (though I did not see them that day). I kind of wish that I could. "What blonde?" I asked in all innocence.Oh, I had seen her all right, how could you miss with her big tits hanging out of her dress?"No competition," I said."Yeah, right," she giggled, "so why are half the guys here drooling over her?" She's got nothing you haven't got in spades," I said, reaching between our bodies and squeezing her tits."Stop that," she hissed.Not drunk enough, yet, I thought, more wine and vodka required."Here, drink this," I said handing over another full glass.This time,.