The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Dream State

Version: $Revision: 1.10 $ $Date: 2004/07/28 11:34:34 $


This work is copyright © 2000-2004 with all rights reserved by its author. The author specifically states that this work may be redistributed, without charge, as long as it is published with the same the story name (“Dream State”), author (“JimC”), and that the story is distributed in its entirety, including the disclaimer and all chapters. You may also modify this story by partitioning this into multiple parts, as long as this disclaimer is included on each part. I specifically do NOT permit this story to be published on any site that charges any mandatory membership fees.

The web sites StoriesOnline ( and ASSTR ( have explicit permission to archive this story.

The following is a work of fiction (actually, “FANTASY”). Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and rather far fetched, if you ask me.

This is a story that describes some sexually explicit situations in a fictional (remember fiction?) setting. The target audience is adults (people over the age of eighteen) with broad minds. This audience is getting harder and harder to find each year.

Final disclaimer—I doubt that any of the people would act in the way described herein, or even if things described herein are even possible. This is just fantasy, and should be treated as such. This fantasy takes place in the mid 1970s to late 1980s, without any fear from AIDS or any other sexually transmitted diseases, so don’t try this at home.

Chapter 10—“If you see a faded sign on the side of the road...”

As I had expected, Debbie had been understating the size of her “little shack.” Both Mary and I gasped when June pulled the limo into a rather large semi-circular driveway in front of a rather large home.

Debbie’s “little shack” was an eight bedroom house built on three levels. The person that originally built the place had intended it to be a bed and breakfast, but pressure from the local populace, as well as a generous offer from Debbie’s father, scuttled that idea.

The place was actually quite large. After Aimee let us in, I found myself in a living room that could be better described as an atrium in a hotel. There were tropical flowers everywhere, well lit by the sun pouring in from two large skylights on the ceiling. There was even a palm tree, which reached about three quarters of the height of the room.

Interspersed among the floral arrangements were love seats, over sized arm chairs, and tables, providing a lovely place for gatherings. Looking upward, there were large windows from the second story looking out into the atrium. The place was drop dead gorgeous. I continued to look around, expecting to find a hotel reception desk.

“This is your ‘shack?’” I asked Debbie, grinning.

“It’s lovely,” cooed Mary.

“I’ve only visited here once before,” Debbie admitted. “That was before Aimee had the place renovated. She knew the right people to talk to and designed this place to fit right in with the surrounding area. The house is rather large, but from the outside, it doesn’t look that huge. The property is quite large, but we have left most of it undeveloped as a way of giving back to nature.”

Aimee nodded and added, “Actually, the term ‘undeveloped’ isn’t quite correct, since what the workers did was help replant some of the foliage that had been removed over the past few years.”

Debbie nodded at her assistant/co-wife. “Nearby,” said Debbie, once again being the tour guide, “Makena beach is one of the few pristine beaches left in the state. When the place was first built, the local residents kept throwing up legal roadblocks to keep a hotel from being built here. My father had heard about these problems from Aimee, and he purchased the land and building for a minor fortune, promising everybody that he’d only use it as a private residence.”

Aimee agreed, “They still didn’t like the idea of such a big place being so close to the beach, but they preferred the relative solitude of just a few rich people lounging in the place, rather than having crowds of tourists taking over the entire beach.”

Debbie continued, “When father passed away...” I could hear her voice crack just a little, but she went on. “I inherited the property. My father has a clause in the ownership papers on this place that it must be kept residential, and he petitioned the local zoning board as well. After seeing this place earlier this year, I decided that this place really should belong to Aimee, as I have many places around the world, and Hawaii is really Aimee’s home.”

Aimee blushed at this.

“I am just... overwhelmed,” I finally said, in awe of the vast beauty of this home.

Debbie and Aimee both smiled at me. Mary, like me, was looking around with her jaw agape.

“Let’s take you on the grand tour,” decided Debbie. “Don’t forget, it’s my first time, too!”

Debbie started with the first floor. Walking through the atrium lobby, she led us to the kitchen. It was rather spacious, looking quite like a professional chef’s kitchen. This kitchen could probably serve a meal for a hundred people, I thought.

Mary oohed and aahed at the kitchen, completely fascinated by all the counter space that was available, and the immaculate condition of all the appliances.

Through the kitchen, Debbie led us to a large dining room. Mary actually gasped as she entered. I had been expecting a real long dining table, like in the movies where a rich husband and wife eat at opposite ends of a dining room table about the size of a football field. I was surprised to see that the dining table was not that large. It was a functional octagonal table—it could be cozy for two people, and at the same time, it could seat maybe a dozen people at the table without crowding. There were four chairs at the table at present, but there were extra seats placed about the dining room unobtrusively but strategically. There were serving tables near the dining table, and near the wall was a china cabinet with no less than three different patterns in evidence, all of them with orchid motifs. Like the atrium, there were flowers everywhere, including a potted palm with orchids of many colors surrounding it.

Debbie beamed at the reception that Mary and I gave her “little grass shack.” She led us through another hallway at the other end of the dining room, and found a hallway that ended in a plush stairway and a set of elevator doors.

“The elevator was in the original plans as a guest elevator,” explained Debbie. “When my father purchased the property, he had changed it into a freight elevator—for moving furniture and that sort of thing. We don’t generally use it. Maybe someday, we’ll convert it into a dumbwaiter.”

As we walked upstairs, I noticed Aimee quietly separate from us and and walk into another door opposite the stairs. Debbie saw my questioning glance, and explained that there were a couple of rooms on the first floor, and her assistants used them exclusively. Those rooms had their own entrance in the back for their privacy.

That explanation took me by surprise. Surely, Debbie didn’t still think of Aimee as an employee... she was a “co-wife” and an important member of our little “family.” I didn’t mention anything aloud, though.

Mary and I followed Debbie upstairs, and saw what looked like a hotel corridor. There were a few potted plants and orchids nicely placed in between the doors in the hallway.

“We took the original room plans, and then did them over, changing them from a dozen spacious rooms to four suites, and one master suite. Let me show you,” said Debbie.

As she opened the door to the first room, I noticed that unlike most hotels I had been in, there was no key or any lock mechanism in the door—just like a real house.

Mary gasped as she entered the room with me. The place looked like it could be an apartment for a couple. There was a living area, with the ubiquitous palms and orchids, and a large television/entertainment center. The main color in this room was pink (“Rose” corrected Debbie when I mentioned the color—all the rooms were given specific names indicating their color scheme).

There was a large sliding window that led out to the “lanai,” which Debbie explained was a local term for a outdoor balcony. The lanai had a couple of chaise lounges and a patio table with a couple of chairs. The entire porch connected with the other rooms on this side of the house.

Coming back into the room, there was a partition that led to the bedroom. This bedroom had a king size canopied bed in it. Debbie explained that one of the other regular rooms had a king size bed like this one, and the other two of the regular rooms had “California King” water beds (this was a water bed the same size as a standard king-size bed, Debbie explained when I asked).

The room also had its own private bath, with a roomy bathtub for two with turbo-jets and an integrated shower, a separate vanity, a toilet, and a bidet. I smiled, remembering that large bathtub in the Regency where we had just stayed.

Debbie led us out of the first room, and showed the next room across the hall to Mary and me. It was furnished similarly to the first, except the color scheme was bluish-purple (“Indigo” was the name of the room). It was in this room that Debbie showed us the water bed, which looked exactly like the bed in the previous room. Automatically, I pressed my hand down on the top of the bed, and it rippled slowly from my touch, causing the three of us to giggle a bit.

The next two rooms, one being orange (“Sunrise”) and the other being green (“Lime”), were similar to the first two.

When Debbie led us to the final room, the master suite, we had expected to see another similarly laid out room. We were in for a surprise.

First, if the other rooms were considered large, this last one was HUGE. The first things you saw as you entered were a living room, a small but well-lit library, and a small, but functional, kitchenette. The color scheme in this room was light purple (“Orchid”).

Moving through the living room, there was the bedroom, with another California King water bed, two walk-in closets, and an even bigger bathroom than the others.

The bathroom in the master suite also had a door opening to a small exercise room and a sauna.

I didn’t realize that my jaw had been hanging open until he saw Mary’s smiling face laughing at me as she brought her hand to my chin, closing my jaw.

Walking back into the bedroom, we saw two large glass panels that looked into the atrium. On the other side of the room, was a large sliding glass door that led out to the lanai. This porch actually had a blue slide that ran from the floor of the porch into a large outdoor pool below.

Debbie indicated the slide, saying, “That was one of my own requests that I made. The workers warned me to make sure that the water on the slide is turned on before anyone goes down, or you may lose the top layer of skin on your backside!” She pointed to a spring-loaded water lever that automatically ran the water for a few minutes before it turned itself off automatically.

“This place is wonderful,” gushed Mary. I agreed. Debbie was quite pleased at our reactions.

Debbie decided to adjourn back to the atrium, taking another stairway from the master bedroom directly into the lobby where we had first arrived.

“Have a seat,” offered Debbie, walking to a chaise lounge close to us. There were three other lounges near her, and Mary I took our seats on either side of Debbie.

No sooner had we sat down, when Aimee arrived, wearing a grass skirt and a light tan bikini top, which blended into her skin so perfectly that I did a double take to ensure that she wasn’t topless. She had orchids in her hair, and a fresh lei around her neck. She wore sandals made from tan terry cloth, which almost made her look like she was barefoot. IF there could be any doubt that we were in Hawaii, Aimee’s appearance removed it completely.

Aimee was carrying a tray with a half dozen glasses, an ice bucket, and two large pitchers.

“Margaritas? Or would you prefer pina coladas?” Aimee asked, softly. “We also have homemade Sangria back in the kitchen,” she explained.

I had a margarita, which Aimee prepared carefully, first salting the glass, and then adding the ice, followed by the green liquid.

Mary and Debbie both had coladas, which Aimee poured for them over ice. She looked at Debbie, who gestured to the empty chaise lounge next to Mary. Aimee smiled, and poured herself a margarita, and then put the tray down on the table next to the chaise where she sat.

Debbie raised her glass in the air. “To my wonderful Master!” she toasted.

The other girls raised their glasses and said, “Yes! Our wonderful Master!”

I knew that they had said that in jest, and I took it in good humor. “To the most wonderful women I have ever met!” I answered.

I tasted the margarita, and was quite impressed about how smooth it tasted. I had been steeling myself for the sharp tang of tequila, but didn’t taste it. Instead, it just felt nice and warm going down. I looked at Aimee with appreciation, who grinned at me. She took another sip from her margarita as well.

“Yum,” said Mary, sipping her colada. “Very delicious!”

“Thank you,” said Aimee, a bit shyly. “We aim to please.”

The alcohol, plus the relaxing atmosphere (I could hear water running as if there were some sort of running stream in the atrium), plus the sexual calisthenics that I performed on our last day in the Hyatt Regency, quickly put me to sleep.

I was exhausted, but I felt quite peaceful.

Blessedly, I didn’t dream.

* * *

I woke up and found myself alone in a tropical paradise.

Wait! Where was everybody?

I wanted to scan for the girls, and stopped. I hadn’t yet got around to talking to them about with the ethics of doing so, and getting their feelings on the matter.

The one person I had talked with about that was Aimee, and she told me on our “marriage” day that she had no secrets from me. “Any time you want to share my mind,” she told me, “just do so.”

I therefore scanned for Aimee, and found that she was laying in a bed. She wasn’t asleep.

“Hi, Jim. I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, apparently detecting me in her mind.

Damn smug female! I love her so!

I felt her chuckle at my reaction, and I thought again about controlling my thoughts when I was in her mind. It just wasn’t safe! I put that thought aside; if Aimee had no secrets from me, I should have no secrets from her. It would just take a bit of getting used to that.

“I see that you are worried about Debbie and Mary. They just went for a walk to the beach. It’s about a mile or so. Pu’u Ola’i, it’s called. The Little Beach. I’ll be happy to take you there,” Aimee explained.

“I’m not really dressed for the beach,” I told her.

“No bother,” she said. “Clothing is not required where they are going.”

“A nudist beach?” I asked.

“Naturist, I think they call themselves. Debbie loves climbing the rocks to get to the little beach.”

I thought about that. Then, I noticed some hesitation in Aimee’s thoughts.

“What’s bothering you, Aimee?” I asked.

She was unsure how to answer, I could feel that in her mind. I quietly told her to calm down and just ask.

“I had been thinking about your coma,” she said.

“Yes?” I asked. “I told you just about everything that I know.”

“Are you sure that you didn’t die, and steal some other soldier’s body?”

That was a weird question. “Of course I didn’t steal anybody’s body. I wouldn’t know how.”

I felt Aimee consider my answer. She paused, somehow keeping her thoughts to herself. I decided to let her think.

After a minute or so, she asked another question. “Do you think of yourself as a good person, Jim?”

My instinct was to answer, “Of course I’m good,” but I stopped myself before thinking it “aloud.” Instead, I carefully considered her question. Finally, I answered. “Is anybody a good person, Aimee?”

“There are good people. There are bad people. Do you consider yourself a good person?” she asked, simply.

Again, I thought of her question. I never thought of myself as evil. I couldn’t for the life of me think of anything that I had done in my life that I was ashamed about. I really didn’t think of myself as a bad person, but does anybody? “I think I’m a good person,” I replied, as honestly as I could. “At least... I try to be a good person. How does one tell?”

Aimee said, seemingly as if she was quoting something, “A person should hurry toward the good and restrain one’s thoughts from the bad.”

“Are my thoughts bad?” I asked her.

“I don’t believe so, Jim. You are a good person.”

I thought about this. I have tried my utmost to be a good person. What if I had just been kidding myself? It worried me. Aimee’s answer was pretty self-assured, however. Being called a good person by her did soothe my soul a bit.

* * *

I think I must have left Aimee’s mind, and re-entered my own, falling fast asleep.

I realized that I was back in my own mind, and I was sleeping, and after a time, I sent my “presence” outside my body, and looked down on myself.

I was startled to find Aimee, reclining next to my body, completely nude. Her eyes were closed, and there was a lovely smile on her sleeping face.

Suddenly, I felt a presence next to me... up in the air!

“Have a good sleep?” Aimee’s presence asked me.

“You can do this, too?” I asked, simply amazed. I had an eerie thought of that one other presence I had met near that newspaper machine, back when I was comatose.

“No,” answered Aimee’s presence slowly. “I think this is just temporary. Your mind was thinking about my question, over and over. You stopped answering me... it was like your thoughts were running in circles. After a while, you left my mind, only you somehow took me—what you call my “presence”—with you. Your mind felt peaceful; you were sleeping. Your mind was also open. I could see your heart... You were worried about my question. It worried you to your core.

“Jim, a bad man doesn’t wonder if he is a good man. An evil man doesn’t even care. You are a good man, Jim,” her presence told me.

“I am a good person?” I asked.

Her presence, alas, had disappeared.

I re-entered my own mind, and opened my eyes. Aimee was looking at me, sitting next to me.

“I am a good person?” I whispered to her, making it a question.

“You are a good person, Jim,” she whispered back to me, making it an answer.

She moved her head to mine, and kissed me.

“Share with me,” she asked.

Somehow, I understood what she wanted. As I kissed her, I entered her mind. Once that was accomplished, I entered her lovely nude body.

* * *

When I was active in the army, I avoided most sexual partners, since I hadn’t really been stationed anyplace permanent, and I didn’t see it being ethical to “date” the female troops. Now, just a few weeks after being discharged from the hospital, I had three steady partners.

Making love with Mary can best be described was always very intimate. Each time we made love, it’s like the first time for us... rediscovering each other’s bodies and minds, once again, intertwining the two, allowing the love to peak and peak.

Debbie, on the other hand, is more like the Fourth of July. I’ve aptly described her before as a firecracker, and the description fits perfectly. She makes love with an intensity that I had never experienced before I had met her. She is fiercely independent, but pretends to be dominated by me, a pretense that I can easily see right through. Instead, she adapts to a sexual situation, enhancing it for the both of us.

With Aimee, making love is more like Thanksgiving: quiet and slow; tender and almost leisurely. She gave me her mind, and allowed me free access to her mind and her body. When our minds and bodies merged, we would react in ways that would drive us together more and more frantic, until the two of us reached climax after climax.

Aimee was already nude, and we were sitting on a double chaise lounge in the atrium. I don’t remember undoing my trousers, but it had only taken a moment for me to enter Aimee. She was already primed. Our minds had merged, and I knew that she was sharing the feelings in my body at the same time we were both sharing the feelings in her own tiny body. This was something that I have, up until this time, only experienced with Aimee—with the other girls, if I “entered” their mind, my presence would seem to leave my own body. This is the reason that Aimee and I referred to this closeness as “sharing.”

Together, we worked as a perfectly functioning team; not rushing, but not too slowly, either. Aimee’s body fit mine like a glove; and now, we were indeed conjoined in a way we hadn’t felt before.

Every movement we made was like the perfect precision of a Mozart symphony. Our bodies moved as one, as if we were both part of a sophisticated and well-tuned machine.

I wish words could describe the intimate coupling that Aimee and I shared that morning; it was about as momentous as when I had awakened from my coma.

Aimee’s mind was totally opened to me, and I found myself seeing bits and pieces of her life. For the first time, I saw Debbie’s father, James Malen, sitting in his office with an unlit cigar in his mouth. I saw Aimee’s mother, and her mother’s sister that had passed away when Aimee was just ten years old. I knew that Aimee was probably seeing bits and pieces of my own life as well.

The feeling that we shared... the word “joy” seems to describe it perfectly. We felt joy in being inside each other and with each other, mentally and physically.

Interestingly, although we approached orgasm, we didn’t achieve it immediately; somehow we knew that it wasn’t the point. We continued sharing ourselves with each other.

This must have lasted close to an hour. I was no longer thrusting within Aimee, we were simply holding each other. Our faces were locked together in a kiss, and our arms were holding each other’s bodies close.

As if on a cue, I started slowly moving my hips once more. My cock moved out and back into Aimee’s quim. My eyes opened, and hers did as well at the same time. We were both looking at each other from both points of view simultaneously. The effect can only be described to somebody that hasn’t experienced it as similar to looking for the first time into a kaleidoscope—it can be very disorienting, but the effect is magical.

Orgasm was approaching quickly now, and my body moved faster. Aimee’s body responded in kind, and she started her low moaning. I felt her orgasm approaching, and mine wasn’t long in coming either.

I continued to move at a constant pace, in and out, and Aimee’s moan got louder. Finally, my own orgasm erupted, and I felt my seed shoot into her body. We continued, and Aimee’s orgasm started, apparently triggered by mine. I continued to thrust until I felt Aimee’s hands on my backside, slowing me down.

I was still kissing Aimee, and she had reopened her eyes after the rapture of her orgasm. By some unspoken agreement, we continued to kiss. Our minds left each other’s.

My eyes closed.

I must have fell back asleep. I woke up a while later, and saw that Aimee was still underneath me, her lips still on mine, but she was also asleep.

I tried to move off Aimee without disturbing her, but failed. As soon as my flaccid penis pulled out of her, she woke up. I had already broken our kiss, but moved back down to kiss her again. She returned the kiss, and I felt her tongue touch my lips. I playfully touched her tongue, and finally gathered the strength to pull myself up and out of the chaise lounge.

“Wow,” Aimee said, breathless.

I looked at her and we both laughed heartily. That one word pretty much summed it up!

Aimee brought me upstairs and showed me where my luggage had been stored. “There wasn’t any doubt, Jim. This is the Master bedroom, and as such, belongs to our master!” She took me to the Orchid room, and helped me pick out a pair of white khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt. Aimee walked into a closet and came out wearing a muumuu that matched the print on my shirt exactly.

“June and Mely are downstairs in their apartments, but they won’t be any problem,” Aimee informed me.

“I guess I’m to sleep in this room, huh?” I asked.

Aimee nodded, her face looking for approval in mine.

“Where do you sleep?” I asked.

“In here, if you want me to. I selected Sunrise as my room when I feel like being alone.”

“That’s nice. Where do I go when I want to be alone?” I asked.

“Lime’s not taken yet,” Aimee said, seriously.

“Well, I have a feeling that my dance card is going to be full for the next few days. I may be looking forward to Lime pretty soon.” I was only half joking. I was thinking that another lovemaking bout like the one I just experienced with Aimee would give any human being a heart attack.

Aimee simply gave me one of her infrequent smiles. I sighed. I knew that everything was right with the world.

* * *

Debbie and Mary arrived later on with some purchases, mostly clothing, but also some perfume that Debbie picked out for Mary.

June and Mely showed up from their rooms after Debbie got back, and bid good-bye to their boss. They were going to spend the next couple of weeks at some resort that Debbie had arranged for them on Waikiki Beach.

I wondered what it was like working for Debbie. So far, in the couple of weeks that I met them, June and Mely only worked perhaps a few hours, and stayed overnight in a luxurious mansion. After that, Debbie gives them free vacations in paradise. I knew that I could probably probe their minds to find out for myself, but I had decided that I really didn’t want to intrude on their privacy.

I turned down one of Aimee’s great margaritas, since I wasn’t much of a drinker, but the other three girls had them, Aimee pouring them from a pitcher filled with ice and the green nectar. I was a bit disappointed that I had turned it down, it looked so refreshing. Still, I had to admit to myself that I had been sleeping a lot recently, and I didn’t want alcohol to knock me out even more.

Aimee had spent an hour or so cooking a simple dinner of chunks of pork marinated in teriyaki, mixed (“stir fried,” according to Aimee) with fruits and vegetables and served with something that looked like a purple pudding.

“What is that?” I asked, indicating the pudding. Debbie smirked at me, but Mary also seemed curious.

“Have you heard of taro root?” asked Aimee.

“Heard of it?” I repeated. “Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever had it, though.”

“I think I’ve seen taro root used in cooking,” offered Mary.

“Well, the lehua taro is only grown on Hawaii, and it is from that root we make poi,” Aimee explained.

“Poi is a Hawaiian ‘delicacy,’” offered Debbie, emphasizing that last word in Debbie’s way to making some subtle joke. Aimee simply looked at Debbie and shrugged.

I looked a little suspiciously at the purple pudding. Mary didn’t seem to know what to do.

“It looks like a blueberry yogurt,” I said.

“You got the ‘yogurt’ part right,” Debbie smirked, cryptically.

I gave Debbie a look, and she stopped smirking.

I thought about this poi. Aimee wasn’t one to do me any harm. She was part Hawaiian, and seemed very proud of her Hawaiian heritage. Of course, she wanted to share this with us.

Without any further thought, I took a little in my fork and tasted it. It was... different. Not bad. Just a little sweet, and a bit sour. Not overpowering at all.

Mary took my cue and tried a bit herself.

I looked up at Aimee and smiled. “I thought it might be fruitier, but this is not bad.”

“It’s... different,” said Mary, echoing my initial thought of the food.

Debbie ate a spoonful of hers without comment.

Aimee beamed at Mary’s and my reactions. “In ancient times, the Hawaiians believed that humanity descended from the taro plant. So, it’s sort of a sacred food. Most truly Hawaiian meals usually include it, like the Chinese would include rice, or you would use mashed potatoes on the mainland. The older people claim that it has healing powers.”

I had to agree with Aimee, and tried it again, this time with some of her pork. It actually accompanied the food very well.

Aimee saw my reaction and smiled. “For most tourists, it does take a bit of getting used to.”

“Yes,” Debbie agreed, this time without any sarcasm.

We all managed to finish our food. Aimee was an excellent cook.

For dessert, Aimee had chopped an entire fresh pineapple, cutting it into small chunks, which the four of us at ravenously.

After supper, fatigue hit me hard, despite the fact that I had avoided the alcoholic beverages. I was still tired, and this was starting to worry me. I had done quite a lot of sleeping over the last day or so. Was anything wrong with me?

Without saying a word, Aimee looked at me, and got up, and escorted me upstairs to the Lime room. The bed was already turned down. I plopped down on the bed, and was startled when the mattress started moving... it was one of those water beds.

Laying down on it was a weird sensation to me, and I could smell the vinyl of the mattress, a disconcerting smell in bed. Nonetheless, I fell quickly asleep.

* * *

There was a face of a man haunting me. It was strangely familiar... yet... it was difficult to make out the features properly. I could easily see his smile, more like a sneer.

Who was this man? Why was he haunting my dreams?

Once again, I tried to focus on his face, but it remained elusive.

What was happening here?

I felt something soft touch my cheek. I reached up my hand, and felt something warm.

I opened my eyes, and saw my three wives standing next to the bed, at my side.

“Jim, Mary could feel your discomfort,” Aimee said, quietly.

Ah, shit! Had I been screaming again?

Aimee must have seen the question in my eyes. “No, Jim. You weren’t screaming. Your mind was definitely in distress, however.”

I looked at Aimee’s face for a minute or two. I noticed that I could just make out her features in the darkness of my room.

“Yes, Aimee,” I finally said. “I was having that bad dream again.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “I... I want to be alone...”

Mary and Debbie took the hint, reluctantly. Aimee didn’t.

I sighed, and then rolled towards the middle of the bed, making Aimee an offer to sit down. She did so.

I knew Aimee wanted to know more. “I don’t know what to say. I keep seeing this face... only I’m not really seeing it. It’s a man. I know that much for sure. He has this really evil smile...”

“You obviously don’t know who this man is,” Aimee said. It wasn’t a question.

“No, I don’t.”

“For some reason, your mind was uneasy over this person.” Again, it was just a statement.

“Yes. Something about that person was... wrong,” I said, unable to really put it into words.

“Can you picture him in your mind now?” Aimee asked.

Interesting question. I tried to conjure up the image of that weird man, and utterly failed. I could, however, still see his smile.

“Not really... just his smile,” I finally said.

“Share with me,” Aimee said.

Somehow, I knew that Aimee was going to make that request, and no sooner did the words come out of her mouth than I had brought her mind into mine. I mentally tried to imagine that man haunting my dreams, and saw his smile.

I felt Aimee’s presence shudder, and I allowed her to leave.

Aimee was staring at me. “That does not belong to a good man,” she said.

“I sort of got that idea myself,” I said.

“I know this room is your ‘by yourself’ room, Jim, but I ask you to let me sleep in here with you.”

I had no idea where the other girls were, now. Interestingly, the last time I had this bad dream, it was Mary that had sensed it, even though she had been miles away. Tonight, again, only Mary seemed to have sensed it.

Wasn’t Aimee more sensitive to this mind power than the other girls? I had thought that she might be even more sensitive than I was. This required some thought.

My mind was drifting, and I hadn’t answered Aimee.

“Aimee, you are welcome to share my bed and my body at any time,” I said softly.

Aimee turned more toward me and said softly in return, “I would prefer to share your mind.”

This was weird. Aimee had pulled away when we had done just that a few moments ago. She wanted to “share our minds” again?

I decided to make light of it. “You females. You are only interested in my mind!” I said, sarcastically.

I couldn’t see Aimee’s face just then, but I knew... I just KNEW... that she was giving me one of her rare smiles.

“Jim, what you need is somebody to hold you. I’m here, and I’ll hold you all night.”

Such an offer from Aimee is worth more to me than being able to screw an entire cheerleading squad.

“I’d love that, dear,” I said, pulling her body closer to mine.

Aimee was wearing a nightgown of some soft satiny material. She rotated her waist so she was on my left. She pushed her feet under the covers, and then rolled toward me.

I felt her arms go around me, and I pulled her closer to me.

“Would you mind if I kissed you, Aimee?”

Aimee didn’t answer, but emitted a contented sigh.

We kissed.

* * *

I saw that face again. This time, however, I think I was waiting for it.

I moved my presence outside my body, and was looking down onto the bed.

Despite the fact that it was dark, I could easily see Aimee and me, still cuddled together.

I moved back into my brain, and the face was gone. DAMMIT! I guess “leaving my mind” wasn’t such a good idea.

At least I had found a way to make the dream go away. Maybe I wouldn’t need Aimee next to me every night. Not that it wasn’t a bad idea...!

I moved my mind into Aimee’s, and “whispered” to her, “I love you, Aimee” and quickly left. I didn’t want to wake her up, but just let her know that I really appreciated all she was doing for me.

I heard the faintest whisper come back into my mind. “I will love you forever, my beloved Master.” I sighed.

I couldn’t go back to sleep immediately, though.

I thought about the meaning of these dreams that I was having. Maybe it was some sort of psychotic episode. Maybe I really did need to see a psychiatrist.

I put that idea on hold, however. Right now, Aimee was the perfect person to talk to: she knew (although may not understand) the strange things that were happening in my mind. She did have a gift of her own. Maybe the two of us could work this thing through.

* * *

I disengaged myself from Aimee’s arms the next morning, and Aimee woke up immediately. I had found out that she was a very light sleeper, so trying to be discreet just wasn’t in the cards.

I had to use the toilet, so I quietly got out of bed, and went into the bathroom.

I walked over to the bathroom door to get a towel for the shower, and noticed that Aimee was gone. I remembered that her room was “Sunrise,” and had a thought to see if she was there. Maybe she wanted to shower together. I remembered she kind of enjoyed it when we showered together on our “wedding night.”

I knew that I could just “scan” to see where she was, and ask her in, but for some reason, my power was really starting to put me off.

I instead showered alone, and thought about the repercussions of my power.

On the one hand, it was my power that brought Mary, Debbie, and Aimee to me. I was also able to stop a misdemeanor in progress at the park. In addition, I had a totally mind-blowing experience with Aimee the previous day.

On the other hand, I felt guilty invading the girls’ privacy, even though Aimee had explicitly given me permission to enter her mind at any time. Even so, it still didn’t seem right to me.

I also found that I had a sense of paranoia that I never had before. That mysterious call from the VA to Mary’s house, for example... it still spooked me, even if it was just a misunderstanding.

Then there was this recurring dream. I had never had nightmares before. Of course, I had just gotten over a twelve year coma, and that might give nightmares to anybody. What if the dream were somehow linked to my power? Somehow, I sensed that Aimee was also thinking along those lines of thought.

* * *

When I got out of my shower, I toweled off, and entered my room naked.

Mary was sitting at the edge of the bed, dressed in a light green muumuu that matched the “Lime” motif of my room. I grinned at her; Mary is a wonderful sight to see at any time.

I walked over and gave her a kiss. Mary returned the favor, with vigor. I noticed that she smelled different... a light fragrance of... orchids. It seemed to fit so well here in this tropical paradise.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” I said after we broke our kiss.

Mary moved her eyes down and stared at my member, giving it a look that she must have stole from Debbie. For once, my tin soldier wasn’t rising to the occasion. I think that age and overuse finally caught up with it.

I shrugged at Mary, and her eyes twinkled as her face curled up into a smile.

“Well, if the little fella doesn’t want to play, let’s get him all dressed up,” she said, and walked to the chest of drawers, and retrieved me a pair of boxers (my size, of course!), a pair of cream colored khakis, and a lime green Hawaiian shirt. Without saying a word, she started to dress me.

Mary did a quick job, allowing me to put on my own socks, but insisting on dressing me otherwise.

I didn’t know where my shoes from the previous evening were, but Mary went to the armoire and found a pair of light colored slip-on shoes. As usual, they fit perfectly.

“Where are Debbie and Aimee?” I asked Mary.

“Oh, they’re around somewhere,” Mary answered. “Probably out on the beach, if I know Debbie. She’s a bit of a tease. She took me to a nude beach... it’s real close to here.”

“Aimee told me about that beach,” I said.

Mary nodded. “Aimee also said to tell you that she has made out a prescription for you.”

“Aimee? Prescription? Don’t tell me she’s a doctor!” I said.

“No. I think she used the word as a joke,” Mary replied. “Anyway, she wants the two of us to take some time off by ourselves.”

“By ourselves?” I asked.

“The two of us, she said. Alone,” Mary answered.

I had been hoping to explore Hawaii, but had assumed it would be in the company of Aimee, whose pride in her home state was quite evident. I was a bit confused.

“Debbie gave me a credit card,” Mary explained. “It has a rather large line of credit on it, I think. We can take the rental car that Mely and June left in the front, and drive it anywhere on Maui. We can also return the car at the rental place, find transportation to one of the other islands, rent a room, take a cruise...”

I smiled and sung, “A three hour tour...” from an old sitcom.

Mary laughed, and then continued. “Anyway, we should see Hawaii as tourists, and just try to have fun.”

“Sounds like an idea,” I said. “Why don’t you meet me downstairs? I’ll be down with you in a minute or so.”

Mary looked at me strangely, but smiled and obeyed.

I waited for Mary to leave, and then scanned for Aimee and found her swimming at a beach.

“Hi, Jim,” Aimee said cheerfully as I entered her mind.

Aimee was nude and in the blue-green water. Through her eyes, I could see Debbie laying out on a towel in her topless glory. There were other people, but Debbie was the only person that really counted to my way of thinking.

“Aimee, Mary told me that you want us to tour the islands by ourselves,” I projected into Aimee’s mind.

“Yes. I want you to have a good time, and I want you to try to behave normally,” she answered.

“Behave? Normally? What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Jim, it seems that whenever you use your mental powers a lot, that is when you have those bad dreams. Go easy on yourself, allow your brain muscles to relax.”


“Jim, we had a fantastic experience yesterday,” she said, referring to our sharing of our minds. “Afterward, that night, you had that bad dream... twice.”

Twice? Aimee knew about the second time?

“Alright...” I said, not knowing how to respond.

“So, relax. Have fun... there are lots of things to do around here. Mary loves you; you love Mary. Oh... and one more thing...”

I waited for Aimee to continue.

“Debbie and I have arranged for you to pick up a replacement driver’s license in Kahalui. There’s a map and an address in the rental car. That will allow you to drive if you feel like it.”

Aimee was so damn efficient.

“Thank you for the compliment, Master.”

Again, I realized that I needed to watch what I think, and then laughed at myself. Aimee joined me.

“Replacement?” I asked, realizing what she had said.

“Yes. The director is an old family friend. He will waive the fact that your old license is out of date due to the fact you were in a coma. You still need to pass a 30-question exam.”

“Aimee, you continue to amaze me,” I said.

“Jim, I know that talking with me this way may seem convenient, but I’d really like you to not exercise your powers for the next day or two. Or, at least, tone it down.”

Aimee’s advice seemed logical.

“Aimee, you know I love you. Give my love to Debbie.”

“I will, Jim, and give Mary my love,” Aimee replied.

I left her.

After deciding that Aimee’s advice made a lot of sense, I went downstairs, and found Mary waiting for me.

Mary and I decided to paint the islands red.