The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Dream State

Version: $Revision: 1.10 $ $Date: 2004/07/31 03:07:16 $


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 13—“Are You Happy? Are You Satisfied? How Long Can You Stand The Heat?”

I woke up, expecting to find Debbie in bed with me. Instead, I found a sleeping Aimee next to me.

I stirred, and as expected, Aimee woke up, being a very light sleeper.

“Good morning, Master,” Aimee said, smiling.

“Good morning, Aimee. Where’s Debbie?”

“She got up early in the morning,” Aimee explained. “I think she’s out for a jog with Mary.”

Debbie get up early in the morning? Stranger things have happened.

I had a morning erection and I realized that Aimee was quite aware of it, if her eyes were any indication. I leaned over and kissed the pretty Polynesian girl and then hopped out of bed to relieve my pent-up hydraulic pressure.

When I returned, Aimee had turned so that she was facing me. She was wearing a long white flannel robe, and her breasts made two tiny indentations in the fabric.

I moved toward the bed, and sat down in front of Aimee. I playfully moved my left hand toward her left breast. I stroked her lightly through the soft fabric, and I could feel her nipple stiffen in response.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked Aimee.

Aimee’s answer was a murmur and I saw that her eyes had closed. I had learned from my encounters with Aimee that she loved having her body touched. She would close her eyes so that each new sensation would be a surprise to her. I brought my right hand toward her legs, and ran a long line from the middle of her right thigh slowly up to her belly button. This resulted in a giggle from Aimee.

“That feels wonderful, Master. I would love to do this all day!” Aimee finally answered.

I poked and prodded at her, causing her to squirm on the bed, giggling helplessly as I tickled her.

She moved her left hand slowly, not to prevent my hands from tickling her, but towards my body. She reached and found my knee, and moved her hand up my leg, searching for my boxers.

I knew Aimee’s intentions, and I thought for a moment. I playfully pushed her hand away, and she slowly moved it back. I started to tickle her in earnest and Aimee was forced to move her hand back to her own body to try to stop my attacking hands.

This was something new; I had known that Aimee loved being touched in her erogenous areas. This was the first time that I saw her reaction to being tickled.

She really seemed to enjoy being tickled; her hands were only giving me a token resistance, mostly from reflexive movements.

Aimee’s face lit up as she was laughing, and her eyes opened and I saw them sparkle. “Master...” she said, trying to get her breath. “Please... Master!” Her words were punctuated by giggles and laughs.

“Hmm? Something wrong?” I asked innocently, continuing my onslaught.

Aimee’s breaths became spastic. It was very soon apparent to me where she was particularly sensitive. “T... Tickling...” This was followed by a series of shrieks. It was a good thing that Mary and Debbie were not in the room, or they would have thought I was killing the poor girl. “Oh... my!”

I moved my face to hers, and she tried to push her face to either side, trying to get away from me. I followed her movements, and finally I was able to kiss her. As I did so, I eased up on my tickling. My hands were still brushing over her body through her nightgown, but her laughter was finally starting to decrease.

Our kiss turned passionate. Aimee seemed to put every ounce of her being into the kiss. After a long moment, I felt her body shudder.

I was amused. Did Aimee just have an orgasm? I continued to kiss her, letting her set the pace.

Aimee adjusted her position so she could accommodate my weight better. I had stopped actively tickling her, and was now once again just lightly rubbing my hands against her clothed breasts.

After a few moments, Aimee broke off the kiss. She smiled at me.

“You like?” I asked her, smirking at her.

Aimee sighed. “Tickling,” she answered with a swoon, smiling with a faraway look in her eyes.

Aimee came back to earth, I think. “It was... erotic...” she said, her eyes once again misting in a swoon.

Suddenly, I had a rather vivid image in my mind. Aimee, bound to a bed with silk scarves. Me, with a peacock feather in my hand...

This was weird! This was never one of my fantasies! On top of that, a peacock feather was about as alien to my mind as a moon rock.

It occurred to me that the fantasy may have been one of Aimee’s. We had shared our thoughts... how much of our thoughts are now embedded in the others’ mind?

“Would you like me to tickle you some more?” I asked her.

Aimee lowered her eyes. “If you want, Master.”

“No!” I said, adamantly. “Only if you want, Aimee.”

I saw a number of changes in Aimee’s face. She was silent for a few moments. After a while, she looked up at me, and lowered her eyes immediately, as if in supplication. “Yes, Master. I want.”

“Well, how about some breakfast, first?” I said with an evil grin.

I moved off the bed, and offered my hand to Aimee.

She looked up at my proffered hand, a little confused. Then she raised her own toward mine.

I pulled her out of bed. “I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse!” I said.

Aimee rose out of the bed and in a fluid motion that reminded me of Ginger Rogers, swept into my arms, just begging for a kiss. Of course, I can never refuse Aimee anything, especially when she begs.

* * *

Aimee led me into the kitchen, and looked around. She asked me if I liked yogurt and I gave her an unenthusiastic affirmative response. Aimee grinned at me and told me to let her prepare breakfast.

I watched my beautiful Hawaiian darling go from cabinet to cabinet, pulling out bowls and some food. She kept her back to me as she assembled her concoction.

After about five minutes, she had a bunch of soup bowls filled. At first, I thought I was looking at two banana splits. Then I realized that the “vanilla ice cream” I was looking at was really yogurt. There was some chocolate sauce and some nuts, and some crunchy stuff on top. I know she had a box of brown sugar out as well.

“This is breakfast?” I asked Aimee, dubiously.

“Yup, and it’s good for you, too!” Aimee said.

I watched her dig her spoon into the concoction, and she ate it. Her eyes closed as she ate, and when they reopened, she was smiling at me.

I figured I was game for this. I took a spoonful of banana, yogurt, nuts, and some other stuff. When I ate it, I was surprised. “This is wonderful!” I bubbled.

“My mother used to make things like this for me and my cousins on special occasions. It seems like dessert, except that most of the ingredients are good for you!”

“Is this crunchy stuff oatmeal?” I asked.

Aimee smiled. “Granola, actually,” she answered. “The sprinkles on top are wheat germ and brown sugar.”

I remembered hippies extolling the virtues of wheat germ in my previous life, and wondered, by Aimee’s such casual reference to the stuff, if wheat germ had become more mainstream since. I pushed that thought aside, though. My “Rip Van Winkle” thoughts tended to depress me.

Once we were finished, I insisted that I clean up, and only allowed Aimee to put a couple of items away.

Instead of returning to the bedroom for another tickle-fest, Aimee and I ended up laying on one of the sofas in the living room. We were relaxing watching some Bugs Bunny cartoons on the entertainment center when Mary and Debbie got back in. Aimee told them that their breakfasts were in the refrigerator, and they left for the kitchen.

I had enjoyed watching the Bugs Bunny cartoons when I was a kid. Seeing him on television now brought a connection back to my life before the coma: Bugs Bunny and his friends haven’t changed at all! Bugs always seemed to be in charge, no matter what happened. In any situation, he would know exactly what to do. I idly wondered what he’d do in my particular situation. Of course, I realized that Bugs was just a cartoon, but I really wished that I had the utter confidence that Bugs always displayed; the ability to make wisecracks when it looked like Elmer was about to pull the trigger on the rabbit.

I didn’t feel very confident nor did I feel in charge as I sat there watching those silly (but enjoyable!) cartoons. My life could possibly be in danger, and the only thing I have been doing recently is mulling over my problems, or getting my rocks off with one or more of the girls, and now here I was just watching cartoons!

Aimee seemed to notice my impatience. “What’s the matter, Jim?” she asked.

“I feel like we should be DOING something. Waiting for an investigator to report seems to be wasting time!”

Aimee got up and sat next to me on the sofa where I was sitting. “Jim, we need more information before we can actually do anything.”

“I know. It’s just that... I don’t know, Aimee. We should be making plans.” I lowered my head onto her shoulders.

Aimee responded by patting me on the head. “Patience, Jim. Making plans without intelligence never works. You know that. Believe me, you are destined to triumph. You are a good man.”

Somehow, Aimee managed to project her calming feelings onto me. I could feel her confidence strengthen me. How did this girl do this?

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I really love you, Aimee.”

“I will love you forever, Master,” she whispered back.

From the kitchen, Debbie and Mary were making enthusiastic comments on the yogurt sundaes Aimee had left in the refrigerator for them.

I was thinking about how great my life was when I found that I fell back asleep.

* * *

When I woke up, none of the girls were in sight. I could hear some typing being done in another room (Aimee?). The volume was turned down on the television, which was now showing a few scantily clad women doing exercises. I watched the show a bit, wondering if the point of the show was to help housewives watching keep themselves fit, or for guys to ogle the women on the screen. I decided, after watching what they ridiculously called “aerobics,” that it was probably mostly the latter.

A few minutes after I awoke, Aimee came back into the living room.

“You seem to sleep quite a lot,” Aimee said. Aimee was always making comments like that.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just shrugged my response.

Aimee studied me a bit and said, “It seems when you use your mind powers, Jim, your body needs to rest a lot afterward. That never seems to happen with me.”

Again, I had no answer for her and shrugged again.

“I got a preliminary report from Mr. Voder,” Aimee said.

“Voder?” I asked. I had never heard that name before.

“The investigator I enlisted,” Aimee explained. “He’s done work for us before. He’s a very good and discreet person with military experience. He sent in a report this morning.”

“That’s good news! What does he say?” I asked.

Aimee sighed. “He says that whoever is checking up on us pretty systematic and thorough. That it’s through the government, but not through any official agency like the F.B.I.”


Aimee nodded. “Most probably. Seems to be based in Washington.”

To me, that meant the Pentagon. I wondered how good Mr. Voder’s abilities would be to penetrate that fortress. I simply nodded to Aimee, digesting that information.

“He says that he should have more information by Friday.”

I raised my eyes at this. If he could get information out of the Pentagon, then this P.I.’s resources must be pretty impressive.

“How much is this Mr. Voder costing us?” I asked, forgetting that it was actually Debbie’s money that was being spent.

“His usual fee, plus a bonus. About a thousand a day, not including expenses.”

I don’t know why I asked; I didn’t know what the going rates were for investigators nowadays, let alone people that seemed to be in the league as this Mr. Voder. I found myself getting embarrassed at having asked.

I decided to change the subject. “Where are Mary and Debbie?”

“Debbie is showing Mary the grounds. I believe they are at the stable.”

“Stable? You have horses here?”

“Yes. Mary told us that she learned to ride as a child,” Aimee said.

Hmmm. The things one learns. I once had a friend whose parents had a few horses, and he had taught me to ride, although that was quite a few years ago. I didn’t know how to take care of horses, though. I was definitely no expert horseback rider.

“What do you think I should do?” I asked Aimee.

Aimee sighed a bit. “Master, you should ease your mind.”

“Hmmm?” I asked. Aimee could be so cryptic sometimes.

“I’ve only known you a few weeks, Master, so forgive me for being too forward,” Aimee said.

“Please, Aimee. I cannot be angry at you. Please tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Well, I have shared your mind on a few occasions. I think you realize that when we do this, it is a mutual effect. You share my thoughts as I share your thoughts at the same time.”

Aimee looked at me to confirm this. I simply nodded. I had gotten that feeling already; Aimee wasn’t telling me anything that I didn’t already suspect.

“Well, Master, when I first met you, I sensed a ‘goodness’ in you. I’ve told you that many times: you are a good person, and I’ve known that almost since I first met you, but you worry that your behavior isn’t entirely nice. It wasn’t until I knew you later that a deep sense of ethics is what really drives you. Having Mary, and then Debbie, under your control, worries you.”

I nodded at this.

“I sensed a change in your worries when you accepted me into this... family. You were happy. I gave myself to you willingly, and we both shared our minds... together.”

“Yes, Aimee...” I said, agreeing with her.

“Jim, please. Let me finish.”

This was the forceful Aimee that I had met on a few occasions. I allowed her to continue.

Aimee saw me signal her to continued. “As I’ve pointed out, our sharing was mutual. You have seen what is in my head... what is in my heart. I have seen the same in you.”

Aimee paused. I waited. I knew she had something important to say.

“You wonder about the source of your emotions, Jim. Don’t you?”

Aimee had hit the nail on the head. “Yes, dearest. Things seem to have happened quite fast...”

Aimee smiled at me. “What you have experienced isn’t like what normally happens between people. There is a connection that is deeper than simple infatuation.”

Infatuation? I could honestly say that “infatuation” wasn’t something that had worried me, actually.

Aimee continued, “Like a mother and her child. Even a father and his child. They share something more than just what they see in each other. The child is a part of both the mother and the father—it was the act of love between the two that produced the child. The bond, therefore, is at a very deep level.”

I could think of more than one instance where there was very little love between a parent and child, but I allowed Aimee to continue.

“Just like a child is a part of its parents, so are Mary and Debbie a part of you. You have spent time in their minds, and they have spent time in yours. You have shared your dreams with Mary! This isn’t the infatuation that one gets when one sees somebody on a dance floor.”

I looked at Aimee. She was making sense. “So, I love them because we’ve shared more than just verbal niceties?”

“Exactly,” answered Aimee.

“What about you and me?”

“I needed you. When I first met you, I knew that somehow, you could fulfill a need that I had. I also knew that I could fulfill a need that you had. You sensed it, but were scared by it.”

I don’t know if I was scared, but we did seem to fit nicely together. I just nodded.

“Just like you and Mary fit; like you and Debbie fit; like Mary and Debbie fit. We all fit.”

I shook my head. “No. There’s a flaw there. You and Debbie were together long before either of you met me.”

Aimee smiled. “We were together, but never really together until we met you.”

I was confused, but let Aimee talk.

“Anyway, we’re all a part of something bigger.”

“How many more will we need in this screwy marriage, Aimee?”

Aimee smiled. “That’s another of your worries, Master. You felt complete when it was you and Mary. Then Debbie came in, and then me. You are wondering where it will stop, right?”

YES! I simply nodded to Aimee.

“Do you feel like somebody else needs to be in this relationship, Master?” Aimee asked.

“Um... no!”

“Well, our family seems stable right now. Do you agree?” she asked.

“Stable? Yes. Normal? No.”

Aimee laughed slightly at my answer. “Nothing about our relationship is normal, Master, but it should be safe to say that unless we feel that something needs to be changed about our relationship, it shouldn’t change, and it probably will not change.”

What she said sounded right. I had no way to verify this, though. There were Just Aimee’s feelings. It just happened that Aimee’s feelings seemed to be right on the money all of the time.

I thought about it more. I still don’t know the reason that Debbie was added into this relationship. It seemed more of an accident than something that either of us needed.

I ended up shaking my head. “No, Aimee. That doesn’t explain everything.”

“It’s Debbie,” Aimee said. “Right?”

“Yeah...” I said, slowly.

“Debbie needed a focus for her life. You provided it.”

“No. If what you said is true, then Debbie is the exception that disproves what you said. Mary and I fill some need within each of us. You and I fulfill needs within each of us as well. So where is the reciprocity with Debbie?”

Aimee stared at me. “Master, I must beg you to believe me. Debbie really needed the two of you. Even if you don’t know how, you need Debbie.”

“Need? Like, I need her money?” I asked, almost sorry as soon as I mentioned it.

Aimee continued to bore into my eyes. “Nothing as ephemeral as that, Master. You may not have discovered it yet, but I know that Debbie fills a need within you.”

“That’s circular reasoning, Aimee,” I said. “You say that our relationship is special because we all ‘fit’ together. When I say that I don’t see a special fit between Debbie and me, you imply it has to be there because our relationship is special.”

Aimee’s look softened. “Think with your heart, Master,” she said, softly. “Think with your heart.”

Well, our conversation made some sort of sense, even if I didn’t completely agree with Aimee’s conclusions. It didn’t serve the purpose of “putting my mind to ease,” as Aimee had suggested, though.

* * *

Since I didn’t think I would still be able to ride a horse, Aimee got a couple of dirt bikes out of the garage and we got into them. I followed Aimee as she led me through some paths on the property, past the stable, and down to a large pond. She parked off the trail, and I pulled next to her and stopped my engine as well.

“I believe that Debbie and Mary took this trail, and they’ll take another trail back, so we don’t need to worry that our bikes will spook the horses,” Aimee said.

That hadn’t occurred to me.

Aimee pointed out the pond to me. “Debbie owns all the property around this pond, and off to the north to the hills in the distance.”

“That’s a lot of property,” I said.

Aimee just nodded, and pointed in the direction opposite the hills. “There’s the working farm over there. Want to pay them a visit?”

I didn’t know if we’d be intruding. “If you think it’s all right,” I answered.

Aimee smiled, and started up her engine again. Soon, the two of us were taking another trail that went alongside the pond, and then veered off in the direction of the farmhouse.

As Aimee and I passed by some fields, I saw a man and a woman waving at us. Aimee waved back, and I did so as well.

Aimee continued toward the farmhouse, and pulled into the driveway.

I didn’t know what to expect when I got to the working ranch. In retrospect, the image that conjured up when I thought of the term “Mormon Fundamentalist” was similar to Pennsylvania Dutch—horse drawn carriages and no electricity, as an example. I guess I was a bit prone to thinking in stereotypes.

In reality, the place was exactly as one would expect in a modern farm. There was a pick-up truck in the driveway that looked like it had a few decades of history on it. So much for the horse-drawn buggy!

As we approached the front door, a woman met us there, smiling at us.

Aimee led me toward the woman. “Hi, Andrea. This is Jim, who is one of the people that will be staying with Debbie and me at the cabin.”

“Hello, neighbor,” Andrea said, smiling at me.

I reached out my hand to shake hers. “Hello, Andrea.”

“Angus is working the field out back, with Eliza and Becky,” Andrea said.

“Oh, Jim and I were just exploring the ranch. We just wanted to say ‘hi’ and didn’t want to interrupt Angus,” Aimee said.

“Oh, I doubt he’d be upset to see you,” Andrea replied. “So, this is just a neighborly visit, then?” she asked, a smile forming on her face.

“Exactly,” Aimee and I said together. We looked at each other, grinning.

“I don’t get many visitors,” Andrea said, dimples now adorning her cheeks. She opened the door all the way. “Why don’t you both come in?”

I got my first look at Andrea. She was in her twenties, and very pretty looking. She had auburn colored hair and brown eyes. She was taller than Aimee, but shorter than either Debbie or Mary. Her face was round and a bit plump; as I mentioned before, her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

I could also tell that she was pregnant.

Andrea followed my glance, and her cheeks dimpled again. “I’m due in four months,” she told me.

Aimee and I walked into the house and I once again offered Andrea my hand.

When she took my hand, something jarred me... something totally unexpected flashed into my brain. “Wow!” I exclaimed, unable to keep from blurting out.

“Oh, you flatterer! Besides, I’m married,” Andrea said, misinterpreting my exclamation.

“No... something just flashed...” I decided to stop.

Aimee looked at me, a bit worried. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” I said.

“Well... I just thought you were admiring my pregnant form,” Andrea said, her eyes sparkling.

“You are indeed lovely,” I said. I decided to change the subject, but my eyes kept returning to her waist. Something in my mind needed to tell her something.

“Thank you...” she said.

Suddenly, I knew exactly what my mind was telling me. Before I could think, I blurted out, “Andrea, do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Andrea looked at me strangely. After a bit of a pause, she finally answered, “I have an older sister and two younger brothers.” Andrea was now frowning a bit for some reason.

Aimee looked at me, not interrupting.

I decided to go for broke. “Your brothers. Are they twins?”

“Why yes. Twins!” Andrea said. She looked from me back to Aimee and back to me. “Do you know my family?” Andrea asked, still frowning.

“No... when are you due, may I ask?”

“I think four months, if I timed my schedule correctly,” she replied, her frown deepening.

“What is it, Jim?” Aimee asked.

I ignored Aimee. “Have you seen a doctor... an obstetrician, perhaps?”

“Not since I tested pregnant. The pregnancy is going fine. Why, are you a doctor? Do you suspect something is wrong?” Andrea’s face registered alarm.

“I’m not a doctor... but sometimes I get these insights... like Aimee...” I looked over at Aimee, who was now staring at me. I didn’t want to get too far into my mind revelations.

Andrea nodded. I had hoped she knew about Aimee’s insights.

Aimee said, softly, in hopes of calming Andrea, “Jim, do you think that she is carrying twins?”

Twin boys, actually. I didn’t say this. I simply nodded. “It’s just a possibility—a hunch. If so, I think that sometimes multiple births are more difficult than single births. Did you doctor know that your family had twins?”

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong, then?” she asked, still sounding a little worried.

“Nothing is wrong,” I said confidently. “I just thought it might be a good idea for your doctor to know if there is a possibility of twins.”

Andrea looked at me strangely, and didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. She looked over at Aimee, who was simply nodding at her.

“My, you are a strange person, Jim. I think my doctor has an ultrasound machine, though. If you think it’s necessary.”

I wondered how modern medicine fit in with Mormon Fundamentalism, and then realized I was thinking religious stereotypes again.

Andrea continued to think and then said, “Do you think I need to visit the doctor today, or could I wait a few days?”

“I don’t see any reason to rush, Andrea. It was just a suggestion.”

Andrea once again looked from me to Aimee, and appeared to calm down. I felt like a heel to frighten a pregnant woman.

Andrea invited us into the living room, and brought us some iced tea from the kitchen. It was a little sweet for my taste, but it was still drinkable.

Andrea was excited about her pregnancy, and seemed a bit happy that she might be carrying twins. She showed us the cradle that Angus had created himself, which was in the master bedroom. I was taken by the lovely quilts in the bedroom, and Andrea beamed, as she had made them herself.

Eventually, Aimee and I got a tour of the entire farmhouse. It was a very rustic place. Andrea pointed out where they had enlarged the building, adding some more lovely rooms.

We spent almost an hour at the farmhouse, and we eventually made our leave. Andrea invited us back at any time; she spent most of her time inside the house during her pregnancy. She also promised that she’d visit the doctor within the week.

As we left the farm house, Aimee smiled at me. “That was very nice, telling her about her twins.”

“I’m sorry,” I said to Aimee. “I just blurted it out, but the impression was so strong...”

“Don’t be sorry,” Aimee interrupted. “You can see how excited she is. She’s the youngest wife, and apparently the first one to get pregnant. Having twins will really fill their desires for a large family.”

“I know... but I think that I frightened her. Nobody should ever do that to a pregnant woman!”

Aimee actually broke out in laughter. “Jim! You must NEVER have heard mothers’ tales to girls during their first pregnancies! They make Brian De Palma and John Carpenter’s movies look like Sesame Street!”

My Rip Van Winkle wasn’t familiar with those names, except for Sesame Street. From the context, I figured they were directors associated with horror movies. I just shrugged.

We donned our helmets and took our off-road bikes and headed back to the cabin.

* * *

Debbie and Mary were still out, presumably horseback riding, when Aimee and I got back to the cabin.

Aimee went directly to the living room onto one of the computers, and typed a bit. After a couple of minutes, she frowned at the computer.

“Bad news?” I asked.

Aimee shook her head. “No news. I was hoping for more information.” Aimee thought a bit and then added, “Well, even Mr. Voder has his limitations.”

I wondered how long it would be before whoever it was that was looking for us would decide to check this place. I then pushed the thought out of my mind; there was nothing that I could really do about that right now.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked.

“Wait, I guess,” Aimee answered.

I slowly moved closer to where Aimee was sitting. I looked over her shoulder towards the computer screen. “What is that?” I asked, pointing to the screen.

Aimee turned towards the screen, looking to see what I had pointed at.

I grinned wickedly as she turned away from me, and lowered my pointing fingers, moving my finger under her arm onto her right side. Without warning, I started to tickle her. “Stop that...!” Aimee said, and then started laughing.

“You said you wanted me to tickle you,” I said, adding my left hand to her other side.

Aimee didn’t answer, but squirmed, trying to get away from my attacking hands. After twenty seconds of this, I said, “Well, I guess I have an idea what we should do now. Let’s adjourn to the bedroom.”

Aimee looked up with me. There was a hungry look in her eyes that I hadn’t seen since this morning. I smiled at her, and offered her my hand. She took it, and I led her off her chair and into the bedroom.

It didn’t take me long to have Aimee promising to do just about anything to get me to stop tickling her. From her protests, you would think that she didn’t enjoy it in the least, but she communicated to me in many unspoken ways that this really excited her. Once again, I was thinking about peacock feathers...

I soon quieted her protests by placing my lips on hers. At about the same time, I slowed down the ferocity of my tickles, instead changing my touches to caresses... against her sides... against her body.

As an author, I believe that I am now supposed to tell you here that I, the glorious Don Juan who has three beautiful females in his harem, ravaged the poor girl, making her promise to write bad checks, etc. Unfortunately, the bloody truth is that I fell fast asleep on top of her.

More than just sleeping, however, I also had a dream.

* * *

I saw a gentleman sitting at a desk. There were fluorescent lights overhead, and the place had a feeling like I was back at the hospital.

My “presence” was behind the gentleman, hovering over a credenza. I knew that I wouldn’t be visible in this room, and I silently moved my position to the front of the desk to get a better view of the man.

A name plate was on the desk that read “Col. Frank DiPietro” I glanced around at the office. It was rather spartan: no pictures or anything adorned the walls. There was an air vent that didn’t seem to be making any noise. Aside from a sheaf of papers on the desk that the man was reading, there wasn’t even any pictures or anything else in the room that made it look like anybody actually worked there.

The gentleman was wearing a white shirt, and had an I.D. badge on his pocket that had his picture (must have been a few years old) that had DiPietro on it, along with some acronyms that the military was famous for, and a whole bunch of thick and thin lines underneath.

I knew that this was another “out of body” experience for me, but this was unusual... in the past, the only places that I could visit were places that I had been. I was almost certain that I had never been in this office before.

I looked at the face of the man, wondering if he possessed the face that had haunted me in previous dreams, but I had absolutely no feeling of having seen that person before.

What did this mean? I had never been in this office before... and I had never seen this man before. Who was this Colonel DiPietro?

“Jim,” I heard a voice say, nearly startling me out of my wits. I quickly calmed down as I recognized that “voice.” It was Aimee’s presence; she seemed to have joined me in this out of body trip.

“Aimee? I didn’t expect you here!” I said.

Aimee’s mental voice answered. “You passed out on the bed, and the next thing that I know, I’m moving about in this room with you. Who is this man?”

I looked around, and somehow detected Aimee’s presence. I was eerily reminded of the time when our minds came together back in Debbie’s “shack” in Hawaii. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just dreaming him up.”

“You’ve never met this man?” Aimee asked.

“No, but he’s DoDIA. Intelligence,” I said. I felt weird talking about this person as if he weren’t here; in fact, it was Aimee and I that really weren’t there.

“Why are we here, then?” Aimee’s voice asked.

Damned if I knew. I looked around the office again. There was no clues to be found anywhere. What was I doing there?

I turned back to where Aimee’s presence was, but it was no longer there. I looked around the room, frantically, but her presence had vanished.

I was about to leave as well, when it occurred to me that I should glance at the papers that the man was reading. It was a memo, and it was dated the day before. Three words on the page stood out for me: “Capt. James Montgomery.” He was reading about me!

* * *

I woke up, and found Aimee underneath me, already awake.

“Jim... you were dreaming,” Aimee said, matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“I was there with you for a little bit, and then I was back here in bed,” she said.

Aimee was shivering a bit. I hugged her.

“Tell your Mr. Voder that he might be interested in a Colonel DiPietro. I think he’s one of the people following us.”

Aimee didn’t ask how I knew. She just nodded.

We kissed and I rolled off her. I watched her get up, her clothes disheveled, and walk straight to her computer terminal.