The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Dream State

Version: $Revision: 1.14 $ $Date: 2004/07/31 03:06:02 $


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 11—“How Can You Run When You Know?”

I won’t bore you with too many details of the island hopping that Mary and I did, except to say that we lived the full tourist life to the hilt.

I visited the Maui D.M.V. and found that there was indeed a “replacement” license waiting for me (after a written test and an eye exam). I wasn’t sure about driving, since it had been a very long time since I had actually driven a car, but it was nice to have the license (Debbie’s and Aimee’s little shack in Makena was listed as my address).

We stayed overnight at a resort hotel, courtesy of Debbie’s credit card. Mary and I made love that night as well. It actually felt a little strange; it was the first time since I came out of my coma that I had made love with a woman without being inside her head. Mary and I quickly adjusted, though, and our love was just about as passionate as ever.

The next morning, Mary and I took a sunrise excursion to Mt. Haleakala, the famous “House of the Sun.” We spent the rest of the day just lounging around at our hotel.

The day after, we took an inter-island flight to Oahu, where Mary and I visited Old Honolulu, and looked at the Arizona Memorial and Battleship Missouri at Pearl Harbor. Even though neither of us served in the Navy, the memorial tugged our heart strings as we thought about the attack that brought our country into World War II.

Mary and I also spent a day on Waikiki Beach, but as I wasn’t an avid swimmer, we went back to tour the shops in Honolulu.

I was able to use our time alone to talk some things over with Mary. I asked her about the ethics involved in my “scanning” for the girls. Mary was a bit surprised at my hesitation, since she had just assumed that since I could do it, that I probably did it all the time. Mary was a fellow officer, and quickly came to see my point of view. I found her ideas comforting. She decided that it was a good thing that I ask for permission before “invading the privacy of the others.” She also was unhesitant in giving me permission to scan for her any time and for any reason.

“I have few secrets from you, Jim,” she said, all seriousness in her eyes.

At night time, Mary and I would talk to Debbie and Aimee by phone at prearranged times scheduled thoughtfully by Aimee, who seemed to know the kinds of sights we were interested in, even making some good suggestions for nice places to visit.

All in all, it was a very relaxing week. Mary and I also continued to make love every evening, and sometimes even in the morning.

Aimee was right about one thing... my bad dreams had stopped.

* * *

After about a week, I found that I was looking forward to talking with Debbie and Aimee on the phone. Despite being in paradise, I found those calls the highlights of my days. I discussed this with Mary, who also felt the same way.

Mary and I had decided to head back to Maui to the shack, and when we told Aimee, she hesitated.

“What’s up, Aimee?” I asked, knowing that the voice I was hearing on the other end of the phone wasn’t the down-to-business person that we knew Aimee to be.

“I think it might be best if we meet you at the airport in Oahu. I’ve already called back Mely and June, and they will be able to depart the islands tonight,” Aimee said.

This was an abrupt change in plans.

“Tonight? We were going to take an excursion tomorrow...” I said.

Aimee interrupted me, again, completely out of character. “Please trust me, Captain.”

I knew that when Aimee addressed me by rank, she was trying to tell me something. I didn’t know what it was, and Aimee’s not answering me directly indicated that either I wasn’t supposed to know something, or that she wasn’t able to say something for some reason. I decided to trust her.

“Alright, Aimee. Is there anything you need from us?” I asked.

I could hear Aimee pause on the other end, and then she said, “I’ll take care of everything, Jim. June will call you to arrange when and where we will meet.”

Mary knew by my tone that something was up. She looked concerned. I put my finger to my lips to keep her quiet while I was on the phone and she nodded.

“OK, Aimee. See you later,” I said.

I hung up the phone.

“What’s happening, Jim?” Mary asked.

“Our trip to Hawaii is being cut short. Aimee didn’t say why, but just for us to trust her,” I answered.

“Of course we trust her,” Mary said, looking me in the eye.

“She also referred to me as ‘Captain.’ Something is up, and I think she was trying to give me a clue.”

“The military?” asked Mary.

I shrugged. “Perhaps. We’ll be meeting Mely and June at Honolulu International tonight.”

“I figured that much,” Mary said.

The two of us were a bit nervous.

June called an hour later, and told me when and where she would meet Mary and I at the airport. Mary and I showed up at the exact time and location specified and found June waiting for us. She escorted us to Debbie’s jet.

Aimee and Debbie were already on board, and Mary and I hugged the two of them when we arrived. Aimee still didn’t seem to want to answer the questions that she knew were bothering Mary and I, and I let her take her time.

We were up in the air around midnight.

After we were aloft, Debbie approached where Mary and I were sitting together. “I’m sorry to cut your vacation short, Master, but...” She paused.

Finally, Mary couldn’t take it. “But...?” she prodded.

“Somehow, somebody is doing some checking up on you,” Debbie finally said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

Aimee went on to describe how some of her sources have recently been asked questions regarding Debbie and her, and some of those questions involved whether or not they knew a certain Jim Montgomery.

This was very interesting, because until now, I didn’t know that any agency that would be interested in tracking me would have connected me to Debbie or Aimee.

If I thought I was paranoid, Debbie and Aimee actually managed to outdo me, mostly because the “state of the art” (as Aimee worded it) in intelligence gathering had improved quite a bit in the time that I had been out of the picture.

Back in the days that I remember, computers were these big, impersonal things that people used to blame when you got some outrageous error in your phone or electrical bill. Nowadays, “personal computers” could be had by just about anybody for as little as a couple thousand dollars... which in itself was totally mind-blowing (my words!).

Aimee also explained that with the current almost ubiquity of these little machines, businesses were buying them left and right, totally redefining the way the world does business.

For instance, take credit cards.

I had one back in the 1970s, before Uncle Sugar had started to take care of my day to day needs. When I had one, you’d show it at a cash register, and the clerk would make a carbon impression of your card, and at the end of the day (or week), the store would mail copies of the transaction to the banks, which would eventually show up as a bill on my monthly statement.

In the past week, I noticed that when Mary would show her credit card for a hotel room or meal at a restaurant, the card would most likely be “swiped” into the cash register itself (now called a “point of sale” device, since it had more intelligence than those simple calculating machines of the past), which would send the contents of the transaction over a telephone line to a bank immediately.

In other words, information, especially information that can be found or stored on a computer, travels fast nowadays. Every room that Mary and I stayed at in Hawaii; every restaurant that we paid for by credit card; every dress that Mary purchased; these could all be tracked by the bank that underwrote the credit card. There are “credit bureaus” that consolidated information between banks that issued different credit cards... making it possible for quite a dossier to be put together on a person quite easily.

That was just credit cards. Hotel chains had computers, too. As did restaurants and other places. There was no end of places that could have a record of you somewhere.

I nodded as the girls explained this to me. Mary was extremely knowledgeable about this, which I attributed to be because she had some experience with the military, as well has having worked at a department store and a bank.

Although such “intelligence” about people is easy to obtain, it is rare that people are isolated, unless there is a reason for a person to be investigated. Aimee knew that Debbie’s finances were on the up and up, and that any such investigation over her expenditures would be quickly seen as uninteresting. However, what alerted Aimee about this was the mention of my name.

Aimee explained it like this. “If you had anything like a credit card that could track you down, it probably expired a decade ago. You have a bank account, but since you’ve been living with Mary and us, I don’t recall you using any credit cards or doing any bank transactions,” Aimee explained.

Aimee’s explanation first struck me as if she were accusing me of sponging off of Mary or Debbie... and then it hit me. It was true—either Mary, or more likely Debbie, had been paying for just about everything... how would anybody looking at Mary’s or Debbie’s credit cards be able to cross reference either of them with me? My jaw dropped.

Apparently, Mary got what Aimee was saying at the same time. “That’s right, Aimee!” Mary said. “Unless people were following any of us, how could they associate the four of us?”

Aimee just nodded. “I’m glad you understand the reason that I was concerned. I have to surmise that somebody has been investigating one or more of us. And...”

I knew where she was headed. “Since I have this mind power or whatever, you think it might be the reason for somebody to take an interest in me, right?”

Aimee nodded, as did Debbie, with whom Aimee already had apparently discussed these things.

Mary agreed. “You’re right. We have to suppose it is you that they are after. If it is me... or Aimee or Debbie, then we’d really have nothing to worry about. However, if somebody is following you, then we should be very worried.”

“Right,” Aimee said. “We should be prepared for the worst.”

My mind was in a whirl. I had never really discussed that mysterious call from the VA that I received a while back. I figured that now was the time.

“Um, girls... I think we have more to fear,” I said.

The three girls listened to me as I described that weird call from the VA. Mary and Debbie had worried looks as this dovetailed with Aimee’s revelation about us being under investigation.

Aimee, on the other hand, simply nodded. “I think that it was good that I immediately assumed that you were the target, Jim. If the VA had information linking you with Mary, and Mary was recently using a Malen Associates credit card, then that could identify how the link between the four of us was made. It also makes it almost likely that somebody in the military is involved.”

“So, what do we do?” I asked.

Aimee smiled. As I said, she smiled rarely. Her look told me that she knew what she was doing, and immediately my nerves were soothed. “Well, we’re headed out to Utah, as it was the safest place to go. We know that somebody is out there, and that somebody is interested in you.”

I considered this, and Aimee continued. “It’s not like we’re without resources, Jim.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We’ve got computers, too!” Aimee said.

Computers? We did? “We do?”

Aimee looked at me, still smiling. “Sure we do! At the ranch!”

I considered this, and then remembered that Debbie had one of her properties in Utah, and that she had visited there recently. Aimee and Debbie both referred to that place as “the ranch.”

I nodded at Aimee. “It sounds like you have everything figured out,” I told Aimee.

“Not figured out, but at least we have some idea of what we need to do next,” Aimee said.

* * *

Aimee’s choice of Utah was a good one. Debbie had some property about an hour outside of Salt Lake City, and it was quite secluded. It was near a wildlife preserve called Fish Springs.

After we landed, Mely refueled and then flew off with June on to Texas, the site of another one of Debbie’s properties. Debbie, Mary, and I took a “courtesy limo” offered by an expensive hotel and arranged for a suite. Aimee took a cab to Salt Lake City where she rented her own hotel room and would eventually meet the three of us when she obtained transportation.

It only took Debbie, Mary, and I about ten minutes to get from the airport to the Sheraton, thanks to the “shuttle,” which was a miniature van that was used exclusively for ferrying people between the airport and the hotel. I had another one of my “Rip Van Winkle” moments in the spacious vehicle; Mary seemed to pick up on my feelings and just held me close.

When we got to the hotel, Debbie booked us two rooms next to one another, and paid cash using the last name Penet—her father’s business associate.

The three of us were exhausted from the trip, having started late at night, and arriving in the morning. Mary insisted that Debbie and I take a room together, arguing that Mary just had me to herself for a week or so and it was Debbie’s turn. Debbie didn’t give Mary any arguments at all, giving me a sneer that told me that there would probably be little of me left after she got through with me that night.

We spent a quiet day in the hotel, and I took a nap. When I woke up later, I saw a wet bathing suit hanging out on one of the chairs in my room. It occurred to me that I had never seen Debbie in a bathing suit!

The three of us ate a quiet supper in the hotel restaurant, and I couldn’t help but keep on looking around to see if anybody was following me, or paying more than a reasonable amount of attention to us. Mary and Debbie both caught me doing this, and I tried to calm myself down and relax. There was no need to get them any more worried than they were already.

After dinner, I bade goodnight to Mary, and kissed her as she entered her room.

Mary hugged me tightly and said softly, “I love you, Jim.”

“I love you, too, Mary. I have the utmost faith in all my girls. We’ll pull through this, you’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right,” Mary said.

I turned to Mary and saw a single tear escape down her left cheek. Before I could say anything, Mary hurried into her room and closed the door.

I looked at Debbie and knew immediately that she had seen Mary’s reaction.

No words were spoken as Debbie and I entered our own room, but once the door was closed, Debbie hugged me, too. “Jim, I know Mary is worried, but I happen to know how resourceful Aimee is. If anybody can get on top of this, she can.”

Debbie’s statement took me a little by surprise. I knew that she respected Aimee quite a bit, but this statement of faith in her astonished me still.

“You really think so, Debbie?” I asked.

“I know so. You, Jim, should know even better than I do, being that you have been in her mind.”

I looked at Debbie, feeling a bit guilty of the amazing closeness that Aimee and I had achieved while we were in the “little shack.” There wasn’t anything accusatory in Debbie’s eyes; maybe she didn’t know—or maybe it didn’t bother her.

I finally answered Debbie. “Yes, I have been in her mind, and yes, she is a very resourceful person. I trust her, and all of you, implicitly.”

Debbie hugged me tight. “Could you go into Mary’s mind and tell her not to worry?”

Again, Debbie surprised me with that request.

“Do you think it is right that I go into her mind uninvited?” I asked Debbie, wondering how she would answer.

“You know that you are never uninvited in any of our minds,” Debbie answered.

“Aimee recently told me to take some time off doing that,” I replied.

“It is for Mary’s own good,” Debbie said.

“Let me think about it, Debbie,” I finally replied.

“Thank you,” Debbie said, kissing me on the lips. We kissed for a few moments, and Debbie broke it off, and added, softly, “Master.”

I watched Debbie walk away from me and enter the bathroom.

I knew that Mary had explicitly given permission to enter her mind, but would it be right to command her to stop worrying? O.C.S. had taught me a long while ago that fear wasn’t always something to be avoided; it was a useful emotion. I had never really had a command of my own, but I never had any reason to doubt those things that I had been taught.

There were many aphorisms about fear that I had learned, such as “Fear is not something to be avoided, it is to be embraced. It is to be sought after and destroyed!” I also knew that there were times when fear was useful. That is, of course, unless that fear turns you into a mindless jellyfish. That is always the problem, and THAT was something to avoid and even be destroyed.

I never asked Mary if she went to O.C.S. I think she had told me that she was in R.O.T.C. during college, which would account for her Lieutenant’s bar. I wondered how much alike O.C.S. and R.O.T.C. were.

Suddenly, I decided that Debbie was partially right. She loved Mary like a sister, and didn’t want Mary to worry about something we don’t even know anything about.

I smiled, and made the connection to Mary. She was in the bathroom, about to take a shower.

“Hey there, good lookin’!” I projected into her mind, playfully.

Mary immediately looked into the mirror, as if she could see me. The effect was that through her eyes, I was able to see her; I don’t know if she did this as a favor to me. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Debbie wanted me to tell you not to worry,” I answered, truthfully.

“I am a little worried, but I’m not paralyzed with fear,” Mary answered.

I smiled, and somehow projected my humor into Mary’s mind. “I know, Gorgeous. I just wanted to pass along the message.”

“Tell Debbie that I’ll be alright,” Mary said to me in her mind.

“I will. Thanks.”

I disconnected from Mary.

Then something just hit me.

What I just “said” to Mary gave me pause. Why did I call her “Gorgeous?” I wasn’t one to use cute names like that, except in the case where a girl really wanted to hear that sort of thing.

Mary was not such a girl, actually.

Then I got the biggest jolt: “Gorgeous” wasn’t a name anybody ever called Mary. It was Debbie’s father’s name for Debbie when she was a child!

How did I know that? It came to me that I must have gotten that from Debbie when I had been in her mind once.

It occurred to me right then that I had an answer to a question that Aimee had asked me before she joined our little family: I was able to get thoughts and ideas from the girls even when I wasn’t looking for them.

Then another, more important thought, finally hit me: Debbie was a lot more worried than she had let on. She wanted ME to tell HER not to worry!

I headed toward the bathroom, and stopped. I projected myself into Debbie’s mind.

“Everything will be all right,” I assured Debbie.

Debbie was surprised to feel me in her mind, not having felt anything when I entered. Despite that, she projected loving warmth towards me, and said, “Thank you, Jim.” There wasn’t the slightest hesitation when she called me by name.

* * *

My last two sexual partners while I was in Hawaii had been Mary and Aimee, both of whom seem to prefer tenderness while making love. Debbie, on the other hand, liked to have fun. I guess I had been neglecting her, but knowing Debbie, I don’t have any illusions that she had gone unfulfilled during my absence, although who she spent her time with when I wasn’t around wasn’t really my business at all.

As I had been expecting a raucous good time with Debbie, it surprised me a little when I found that she mostly just wanted to hug and cuddle with me. I didn’t mind this one bit. I love it when we experiment with and on each other, but I also love the intimacy of just holding a woman that I loved so much as well. Without using mind powers, kissing seems to me to be one of the most intimate experiences between two people.

Debbie’s hugs got harder and harder as we pressed our nude bodies together. Without even entering her mind, I knew that Debbie was feeling afraid... she was holding me as if she were trying to protect a baby from some unseen danger.

I returned her hugs and kisses with good measure, and after about a half hour, Debbie finally went to sleep. I drifted off a little while later as well.

It turned out that I shared Debbie’s dream with her. Our bodies were still close together, but we weren’t pulling ourselves together. When I started to dream, it had the “other worldly” sensation that my out of body experiences during my coma had, like when I shared Mary’s dreams.

Debbie was a little girl in her dream, about nine or ten years old. She was riding in a car with her parents (I could “hear” her refer to them as such); she was in the back, and her parents were in the front with her father driving.

I felt oddly out of place in this dream, especially as my point of view was Debbie’s—as a twelve year old girl. I considered leaving, but something made me stay.

The family soon arrived at an amusement park somewhere in New England, and the family seemed to have fun riding the merry-go-round and the bumper cars (which seemed to be Debbie’s favorite attraction).

While experiencing this dream, I was startled as to how many of Debbie’s senses I was able to discern. One would expect hearing and sight (this dream was in color, by the way—I remember somebody telling me long ago that most people dream in black and white), but I could also smell the cotton candy, hot dogs, stale popcorn, and even the oily-ozone smell of the bumper cars! I could also feel the centrifugal force as Debbie rode on the “Alpine Bobsleds” ride.

The dream went by quickly, but I could tell that I was experiencing something that Debbie had experienced in an entire fun-filled day when she was younger... all compressed into about twenty minutes.

Then, without warning, the dream seemed to linger. Things seemed to just freeze... stopped in mid-motion.

It was as if I was alive in the middle of an oil painting. I could look around, but nothing was moving. I could see the back of Debbie’s mother’s head, and if I turned, I could see Debbie’s father as he held Debbie’s hand.

Somehow, I “knew” that Debbie’s dream was over... but it wasn’t. Although she was no longer dreaming this, I was!

I turned to look at Debbie’s father again, and was surprised when his lips curled into a smile.

I woke up with a start. Thankfully, Debbie was a sound sleeper and didn’t get aroused by my sudden movement.

It took me an hour more before I could actually get back to sleep, and even then, I only slept fitfully. As soon as my mind would realize that I was experiencing a dream, I’d wake up with a start. It wasn’t an easy night for me.

* * *

I finally got up about six in the morning, and immediately left the bed. I was glad that the Sheraton had a coffeemaker in the room and I started a pot. There was enough for four cups of coffee, and I made them all.

I think the smell of coffee woke Debbie up. She stretched her nude body out on the bed, and I actually heard some of her bones make a cracking sound as she worked out the kinks in her joints.

“Breakfast in bed?” Debbie asked me, sleepily.

“I only have coffee, but if that suits you...”

“Coffee smells good,” Debbie said, closing her eyes in a sigh. Then she looked at the clock on the night stand and noticed the time. “Six fifteen?”

“Yeah. Sleep wasn’t easy,” I said.

“You can have my coffee if you want, Jim.”

“There’s enough for four cups. We can raid Mary’s room if we need more,” I said with a smile.

Debbie smiled back.

I set down two cups of coffee on the nightstand for myself and Debbie. We both picked them up and sipped. It was a bit hot, having just come out of the coffee unit, but the caffeine was what I really needed.

I did a quick scan to find Aimee. She was in a Holiday Inn in Salt Lake City, having obtained a car the previous night. She was up as well and already in the shower.

“Aimee... we’re at the Sheraton near the airport. Meet us at the entrance in twenty minutes.”

Aimee seemed a bit surprised at my “appearance” but answered, “Yes, Jim. Anything wrong?”

“Not really, but I think that the sooner we’re at Debbie’s ranch, the better.”

“OK.” she answered dutifully. She reached to turn off the water as I departed her head.

I did a similar scan for Mary, who was still sleeping in her own room next door. I got her to wake up and be outside the lobby as soon as possible.

Debbie watched me (I had often wondered how I physically appeared when I was doing these little “visits” elsewhere) and somehow knew that I had contacted Mary and Aimee. “What’s up, Jim?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s best if we move out soonest.”

“Well, our trail should be a bit colder than it was a couple of days ago...” Debbie started.

I interrupted her. “Yeah. It is probably a good idea not to take any chances. Let’s meet outside in fifteen minutes.”

Debbie just nodded, and got up, bringing her cup of coffee into the bathroom.