The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Dream State

Version: $Revision: 1.20 $ $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 14—“I hear the voices when I’m dreaming, and I hear them say...”

You can encounter some real problems when you write a story about your life. For one thing, you never know how it will end, since the fact that I’m still alive means that the ending cannot be known. Another problem that I encountered is that I have to admit that sometimes, I am not the correct person to be telling portions of my own story.

I was pleasantly surprised to recently discover that my beloved Aimee has always kept a diary. She never mentioned it to anybody, and I don’t believe that I ever actually saw her writing in it. Despite the fact that I have shared the innermost thoughts with my three wives, I have always allowed them their privacy, and never questioned their motives.

For reasons that will become clear pretty soon, I have decided to use Aimee’s diary entries to describe the events that happened next. Please understand that for the rest of this chapter, it is Aimee that is telling the story. I’ve edited her words very little, even where Aimee’s recollection of events differs slightly from my own and those of my other wives. I’ve only removed some extraneous details like dates, and adapted it a tiny bit to make it fit more into a narrative style, rather than the typical “Dear Diary” type letter.

* * *

I left Jim to send an email to Mr. Voder where I mentioned that he might want to look up Colonel DiPietro. When I returned to the bedroom that I had just shared with Jim, I had found that Jim had fallen asleep. I started smiling, as Jim is extremely cute when he sleeps, but something inside my mind was nagging me: something was not quite right.

I have learned very long ago to trust my intuition in circumstances like these, and I started to look at Jim with concern. I think that my concern must have radiated outside the room, because I heard the sound of breathing and looked at the doorway. Mary and Debbie were both there, looking concerned at me.

“What’s the matter, Aimee?” Debbie asked. I could feel her worry in that way that I’ve always associated with Debbie.

I turned back toward Jim. “Jim is sleeping, but I have a feeling that something is wrong.”

Mary came into the room, and stood at the side of the bed opposite me. “I’ve seen him look that way before. Did you try to arouse him?”

I shook my head and answered, “No, I have not. Not yet. I just discovered him this way.”

Mary nodded and then asked, “Did you try to... you know... reach him?”

It was after Mary said this that I realized why I was concerned. I was used to having a feeling of Jim being “inside my head” whenever we were close together. I do not think that he is aware that he does this, or even whether it is he that is doing something or me that is reacting to him. It might be some sort of automatic response on the part of either of us, since I noticed it all the time since our first night together, even when he is asleep.

The problem, as I now realized it, was that I wasn’t feeling his presence at all. My brain must have noticed this and given me the “something is not right” feeling that I was experiencing.

“That is it, Mary!” I said. “I do not feel him at all!”

Debbie moved behind me and touched my shoulders. “Did you reach out to him?”

“No,” I answered, somehow comforted by the feel of Debbie’s concern.

“Please try,” Marry and Debbie asked, their voices simultaneous as if they were of one thought.

I must mention something here, because apparently Jim seems to be unaware of it. As much as Jim can reach into the minds of Debbie and Mary, I can sometimes reach into his mind on my own. Somehow, I had the feeling that I could do the same to Debbie and Mary, but I never thought to do so. It would be intrusive, and I totally respect the privacy of my co-wives.

I closed my eyes, trying to filter out all distractions. Usually it is quite easy for me to connect with Jim; after all, he is usually doing most of the work.

I tried to connect with his mind, but I found that I could not get there.

“I... I can not!” I said, tears coming to my mind.

“Calm down,” ordered Debbie with a soothing voice. “It’s obvious that he’s still breathing. Are you sure you can’t connect with him?”

“I tried,” I answered, feeling quite ineffective. “Let me try again.”

“Let’s all try,” Debbie said, and I could feel Debbie’s determination. “Can you teach us how you do it?”

Looking at Debbie, I realized that she had no idea how I actually connect with Jim, but she somehow realized that circumstances were extraordinary right now. Both Debbie and Mary knew that they we all needed to try.

“May I try to connect with you two first?” I asked.

“Of course,” both girls answered in unison.

I closed my eyes again. I tried to reach out, and found that I could now connect with Mary and Debbie.

Inside the two girls’ minds, I suggested, “Now let us all try together.”

My powers are minuscule compared to those that I have seen Jim display. I was afraid that the three of us would probably not be able to summon enough power together to connect with my beloved master. This was not a time for fatalistic thoughts, however. This was an emergency.

From within Mary’s mind, I sensed a connection to Jim that I could not make. It was a very faint connection, to be sure, but it was more than I was able to achieve on my own.

Through this feeble connection in Mary’s mind, the three of us managed to connect into Jim’s mind.

What I found was most discouraging. He seemed to be sleeping, but there didn’t seem to be any other “thoughts” inside his mind. It was as if he was asleep, but not dreaming, not thinking of anything.

“He’s... he’s sleeping, but it’s as if he’s not there,” said Mary, softly.

I was still inside Jim’s mind, and I could hear the sound of Mary sniffing quietly. I had little experience in rooting around the minds of other people. I kept asking myself, “What would Jim do?” and could not figure an answer.

Debbie’s fingers on my shoulders started kneading the muscles in my neck and my back. I could feel how tense I was by the actions of her fingers, and I could feel her reassurances and drive.

I continued to concentrate on looking around in Jim’s mind for any trace of our husband, but the only signs of any presence was Mary’s and Debbie’s minds, also trying to probe.

“We reached him,” Debbie breathed quietly.

I simply nodded in answer.

“So where is he?” Debbie asked.

Mary said quietly, “It’s as if he’s gone.”

I answered, “He could just be in a deep sleep.” I wanted to assure my wives that what we were experiencing did not necessarily mean that anything was actually wrong with Jim, but since our minds were all merged in the mind of our master, I did not know if I could lie to them.

“We all love him,” I heard Mary think aloud.

“Yes,” I said, afraid to say any more.

“You don’t need to reassure us, Aimee.”

That thought startled me. I couldn’t tell if it was Mary or Debbie that formed that thought. “I am... I am sorry...” I thought.

“Don’t be sorry.”

Again, I couldn’t make out who formed that thought. All of a sudden, I understood it. It was Mary and Debbie thinking together, forming the thought as if they were of one mind.

After collecting my thoughts, I finally asked, “What do we do now?”

No answer.

I am not a person that worries needlessly. I had no premonition that something bad would happen to Jim, so whatever was happening to him probably wasn’t threatening his life, nor any of us. I knew that my concern was totally selfish—all of us were concerned about what the possible loss of our beloved husband would do to us.

I realize that having Jim at the center of our lives made me and my two co-wives very vulnerable. If something should happen to him, our lives could be devastated. We were starting to feel that right now, with Jim looking like he was asleep but not being responsive to any stimulus.

I was happy that Debbie and Mary had a special bond between them. Debbie and I have a similar bond, but it has never extended into the physical. Since Jim entered their lives, Debbie and Mary have grown very close together. I, on the other hand, had focused almost exclusively on Jim himself. Not having him around made me feel very helpless; more helpless than I can remember ever being, even after the death of my Aunt Tomeii in front of my helpless eyes.

Luckily, Mary and Debbie knew this as well, and took charge. “Let’s get to work.” Once again, their two voices were acting as one.

Before we left Jim’s empty mind, I said, from the center of my being, “I will love you forever, my beloved Master!”

Our minds disconnected from Jim’s and the three of us were looking down once again at our husband’s steady breathing.

Every one of us, with the exception of Jim, had tears in our eyes.

* * *

I explained the dream that Jim and I had experienced before he had fallen into this dreamless state to Mary and Debbie. I also explained that I had sent an email to Mr. Voder. I had a copy of the message that I had sent and both Mary and Debbie read it. In fact, there was a reply from him that we all read. It was short and to the point, giving an address on Leesburg Pike in Falls Church, Virginia.

“Could this Colonel DiPietro be the person that’s following us? If so, then why?” Mary asked.

I gave the only answer I had. “We must assume he knows about the power that Jim has. He probably wants the power himself, or he wants it for the government.”

“Baloney!” said Debbie, dismissively. “If they knew about his powers, they would never have released him from the hospital. Why are they interested now?”

I made it a point not to answer that we had not been very clandestine about Jim’s power. I could think back to a couple of incidents, like what happened in that park and our wedding reception. These things could all perk up interest in Jim or us as a whole. Even just the fact that we were all acting as his wives was unusual, even here in Utah. There was no need for assigning blame, especially when all four of us shared it.

Mary was still talking. “You know, this is the strangest that it has ever been since he awoke from his coma—”

“Coma!” I shouted, jumping out of my chair. “That’s where he is right now!”

Mary pulled me back. “No, Aimee. It’s not the same as before. I know.”

“How do you know, Mary? What’s different?” I asked.

“When he was in a coma, his mind was still working,” Mary explained. “He connected with me, remember? I thought it was just dreams... wishful thinking, even... but his mind must have been there. How else could he contact me in my dreams?”

“Then what is it?” I asked, sitting back in my seat.

“Exhaustion, perhaps?” Mary suggested. “Each time he uses his powers, it takes something from him. With one exception.”

“What exception?” I asked.

“When he’s with you, dear.”

“He got this way when he was with me!” I cried.

“No,” Mary shook her head. “I suspect that he must have somehow tapped into something a bit different. He once told me that he was able to visit almost any place that he’d ever been when he dreams. It doesn’t take him much effort.”

“Yes. He told me that, too,” I said.

Mary smiled at me. “Think of the one place he went where he had never been before. It was this Colonel’s office, right?”

I thought about it, and nodded.

“Think of what such a ‘trip’ must have cost him.”

I thought about it and then said, “Mary, you seem pretty confident about your knowledge of his powers.”

“I’ve been experiencing them for all those years when he was in his coma,” Mary said, smiling. “I didn’t think about it until more recently, but I still have the experience.”

“You said his trips take something from him, except when he is with me.”

“Yes,” Mary said. “Debbie and I think you have a similar power, but it’s different. I don’t think he’d be able to do what he has done without you. It’s like you are some sort of amplifier.”

I nodded. “Are you telling me that he likes me because of my power?”

Mary looked at me and scolded, “Don’t EVER say that, Aimee. He loves you because you are you. He loves you more than anything else, I think.”

I looked at Mary, trying to see if there was any jealousy or pity on her face. I did have a deep bond with Jim, but I had assumed that Debbie and especially Mary shared that same bond.

“I am not jealous,” Mary said, smiling. “I’m happy that Jim has found his perfect partner.”

“Partners,” I corrected.

“Partner,” Mary insisted.

“He loves you... and Debbie!” I said.

“Yes. He does,” Mary answered.

I waited for Mary to continue. She didn’t.

I thought about Jim. I thought about Mary and Debbie. I thought about everything.

Softly, Mary said, “You are so unique. You are so special.”

“We are all special because Jim loves us,” I said, truly believing what I was saying.

“Very true,” Mary answered.

For the first time, I felt the closeness that Mary and Debbie shared with one another.

“You should sleep,” Mary said. “You really need sleep.”

“No,” I replied. “I will not sleep until our husband wakes.”

Mary looked sharply at me. I did not need to read her mind to understand her concern. She was thinking that it could be a long time.

My silent reply, heard only within my own mind, was a repetition. “No matter what, I shall not sleep until our husband wakes.”

Something about Mary’s explanation about fatigue made sense to me. I also had noticed Jim’s fatigue, especially when we were together at the “grass shack” in Makena.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s assume this is a temporary thing. Jim’s simply exhausted. What do we do now?”

“I say we get the mother-fuckers that are going after us!” Mary answered.

I looked at my co-wife. There was a look in her eyes that told me that she was not just kidding.

Debbie looked concerned, but Mary spoke again. “They are following us. We are investigating them. There isn’t very much more that we can do in Utah.”

“So we go to Washington and kick butt?” Debbie asked, getting into Mary’s mood, and I could feel myself react to Debbie’s determination.

“No,” Mary replied, shaking her head. “We go there and get some answers.”

“Aimee, do I have any property in that area?” Debbie asked.

I already knew the answer. “There is a place in Georgetown. That should be pretty convenient.”

“I do?” Debbie asked, looking at me. “One of these days, Aimee, you’ll have to let me know all the places my father collected.”

Without thinking, I said, “The Georgetown place was going to be a graduation present for you, Debbie. He never actually lived there. I don’t know if it’s even furnished.”

Immediately, I regretted saying that to my co-wife. I saw the look of loss in her eyes at the indirect mention of her father.

Mary also seemed to feel Debbie’s loss. As I said, she and Debbie were very close, and if I could sense Debbie’s moods, Mary almost certainly could. Mary decided to change the subject. “Should one of us stay here for when Jim wakes up?”

I knew that this was Mary’s subtle way of telling me that I should probably stay behind, as much as I wanted to help end this harassment and invasion of our privacy. I nodded, once again a bit envious about the closeness that Mary and Debbie shared. I hoped that they would be enough to get whatever job that needed to be done completed.

“No,” Debbie said, surprising me. “We all go. The four of us.”

“Debbie,” I said, “Jim is not conscious right now. We would make a scene trying to get him on an airliner. That would alert whoever is looking for us.”

“No worries,” Debbie answered. “Put him on a stretcher or a wheelchair and have Mely and June meet us at the airport. I think our little ruse has already caused enough confusion to the people following us.”

Maybe Debbie was correct. I figured that whoever had been following June and Mely’s flight plan would almost certainly know that we were not with them. Maybe they were no longer being followed.

That idea was rejected soundly by Mary. “That just won’t work. If the government has people following them, they will not stop following them just because we’re not with them. If anything, wherever Mely and June stop, they will be followed and their location will be bugged. No matter how we contact them, the communication will be monitored and our location will be revealed.”

I sighed and looked at Mary for help. She had a military background, but I never really checked that out before, since I didn’t think it had been important. I made a mental note to find out more about Mary’s service in the military.

Mary thought for a while and then said, “All right. We can get to Washington and meet up somewhere. The government may know where Debbie’s properties are, and may even now be looking for us here.”

I got a sinking feeling at that.

“So what do we do?” asked Debbie.

“Split up, but meet in Virginia,” Mary suggested. “Arrive in Baltimore International, Dulles, and Washington National on separate flights. Aimee goes with Jim, Debbie and I separate. Since Dulles is probably closest, Aimee and Jim will go there since he will be the hardest to move. Aimee will find transportation to the closest Holiday Inn to Falls Church. Debbie and I will choose which airport we’ll take at random. We’ll meet at the same motel. Aimee... ask for two double or queen size beds... something big enough for all four of us. How much cash do we have?”

“Eight hundred and twenty,” I said automatically.

Mary winced. “That will get us to Washington. That may not be enough for the other incidentals, like food, cab fare, lodging...”

“Go on the cheap,” Debbie suggested. “Use bus fare instead of taxis. Washington has a good mass transit system, I think. Don’t they?”

“How much do we trust this Mr. Voder?” Mary asked me.

“If we cannot trust him, we’re already screwed,” I stated.

“Can he arrange for us to get money in Washington?”

“He might be able to contact Charles Penet to wire us money. Holiday Inn might accept Western Union.”

Debbie shook her head. “You need positive identification for Western Union.”

“How about sending money from Malen to Mr. Voder and having him deliver it to Holiday Inn?”

I thought. “He doesn’t do face to face. He might deliver it to us if we give him the name we will use. What name would be good for me?”

Mary smiled. “When I first met you, you reminded me of a friend named Patricia.”

“Patricia James it is,” I said. I loved using the name of my beloved Master, as well as Debbie’s father.

“All right,” Mary said, taking charge again. “Before getting to the airport, stop at a uniform store and get a nurse’s outfit. You’ll also need to find a collapsible wheelchair. A stretcher will probably need some sort of doctor’s references. A wheelchair is quite common in airports.”

Debbie said, “What should I do?”

“We’ll go to the airport together, but take different flights. You can route from here to the mid-west, and from there, route to National or Baltimore. It will be twice as difficult to follow that way. Take public transportation to Falls Church and find the Holiday Inn.”

“And you?” Debbie asked.

“I’ll route through a city on the east coast, and from there to Baltimore. Same deal.”

“So... Chicago and New York?” Debbie asked.

“No,” Mary said, looking our co-wife sternly. “Make the decision on the intermediate stop when you make the reservation at the airport. Find out what’s there, and what’s affordable. Pick whatever is convenient. Remember, any information that is only known by one person cannot be compromised by another.”

I thought Mary was correct in her paranoia, and considered that both of them knew the almost the exact itinerary for Jim and me, but since I had the incapacitated Jim, it was obvious that I needed to use the most direct route. I considered switching my destination as well, as some of Mary’s paranoia was starting to rub off on me. I felt that same paranoia inside Jim’s head before and it was a comforting memory for me. There was something that calmed that paranoia, though: there was nothing that Debbie or Mary could do that would betray Jim—and therefore the two of us—in any way.

“He’ll be all right,” Mary said to me.

“I know,” I said, sighing. “I do not see any harm coming to him or any of us.”

“He loves you, Aimee,” Mary said, looking deep within my eyes.

“He loves all of us,” I answered.

Mary looked at me and said, carefully. “He loves you, Aimee. He loves you in a way that neither Debbie nor I can ever be loved by him.”

“I am but his third wife,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Not in his heart, dear.”

As Mary left the room, I started sobbing, quietly.

I left the room briefly to send a quick email of explanation to Mr. Voder and quickly returned to the room to start packing our bags.

* * *

Waiting is sometimes lonely, especially when my Master is lying in a dreamless state. I try to think of other things in order to pass the time.

I realize that I never did write about the origin of my name. It is a common one, for sure, but it was my Aunt Tomeii that suggested that name. Originally, my first name had an apostrophe (or is it an acute accent?) after or on the second to last letter, which is the traditional way to spell my name: Aime’e.

In grammar school, I had taken to leaving that accent off, something my aunt laughingly (but not disapprovingly) referred to as Anglicizing my name, since the accent served mostly to confuse teachers, students, and friends. For instance, in Hawaiian, the backward quote (called ‘okina) is a common diacritical mark that usually means a tiny pause in between syllables, so people that could read Hawaiian would almost always mispronounce my name.

When I was very young, I had even considered spelling my name “Amy” but the pronunciation of my name is just slightly different enough than what that spelling of the shorter name would imply. Also, my Aunt disapproved.

I realize that I mention my aunt often when I record my thoughts. Since I have plenty of time right now, I feel it is again time to write about her.

Aunt Tomeii was my mother’s older sister, and she was a very influential person in my mother’s life, and she also came to be the most influential person in the first fifteen years of my own life.

My Aunt Tomeii taught me very many things, including some of the old legends, most of which she firmly believed. It was my Aunt Tomeii that showed me that I was special and that I had the gift of insight. Without actually telling me how, she helped me develop my gift. My mother, who didn’t believe in the legends, thought this was a harmless preoccupation on both of our parts. Mother humored the two of us without prohibiting it, as long as I did my chores and school work properly.

I have many fond memories of my Aunt Tomeii, but there is one story that is probably the most important and corresponds with the last time I saw my aunt.

I was pleading with my aunt not to go to the market to get food for dinner. I just knew that something bad would happen, and didn’t want her to go outside.

Despite my misgivings, Aunt Tomeii assured me, saying, “Aimee, my beloved, sometimes it takes wisdom to understand that good and bad are not always things that are separate. Sometimes, they are interwoven like the pattern on a spiral. If you remove the black—the bad—you get a white circle. In doing so, you remove the beauty of the spiral. In other words, sometimes you need to have the bad. People always ask if there is a loving God, why does that being allow for pain? Those people are just looking at the black and miss the point. If you instead think of the pattern of the spiral, where good and bad interact, you will find the meaning. Sometimes, one has to risk the bad in order to achieve the necessary good.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, something I was quite used to saying to her.

“You will understand, Aimee,” Aunt Tomeii chuckled. “You have a gift of insight, and even now, you can feel the truth of my words.”

Aunt Tomeii kissed me and left for the market, despite my warnings.

So great was my fear that something would happen, I felt that I needed to spy on my aunt. I followed her, keeping a large distance between us. I admit it was out of morbid curiosity, since I had come to trust my instincts. I knew something was going to happen—maybe I could prevent it.

At one point during her walk, my aunt stopped suddenly, turned around, and looked directly at the tree that I was standing behind. She smiled, as if she knew that I was there even if she couldn’t see me, and then turned to continue her walk.

A few minutes later, I saw my aunt rush out into the main road. She had seen a child chasing a ball into the street. I watched in horror as my Aunt Tomeii pushed the little boy out of the way, forfeiting her own life as a quickly moving truck couldn’t stop in time to avoid hitting her.

My first thoughts were to blame myself for her death. After all, I knew something would happen, and I had followed her in a vain attempt to prevent it. However, a lot of my aunt’s lessons to me over the years came to mind, especially her last words to me before she had left. I also knew that self blame was a luxury that my aunt did not allow me. I still found myself crying inconsolably after the loss of my aunt, but tried—really tried—to see where the white existed in this particular spiral.

I knew that this was my aunt’s final lesson to me, and only recently have I ever seen beyond the black in that particular spiral.

My aunt knew that she needed to be where she was in order to spare the life of that child. She willingly did so, her humor never leaving her, even though she knew that she was going to be required to make a sacrifice. The boy that she had pushed out of the way was alive, and may still be alive today for all I know. I never did keep track of the boy—nothing inside me told me that it I needed to do so. For all I know, he might be a firefighter that remembered my Aunt’s sacrifice and single-handedly saves the lives of hundreds of people. He could also be a simple hard-working man with a family who just gets by from day to day, not knowing that perhaps one of his children, or his children’s children, may reach greatness. I knew that I didn’t need to question it; I fully trusted my Aunt Tomeii and her own gift of insight.

At my aunt’s funeral, where I was asked to spread her ashes into the Pacific Ocean, I resolved that I would have the presence of mind to act unhesitatingly for the very ideals that she had taught me, no matter what the cost. To do anything less would be the ultimate disrespect to my aunt’s memory.

I don’t write about this very often, mostly because even now, over ten years later, that memory still hurts. I never even told my mother, who never really believed in my premonitions. I doubt whether my companions right now will understand it themselves; I see that they tend to humor me when I start to talk about the gifts in any detail.

For that reason, I haven’t seen a need to tell this story to my husband or co-wives yet. I’ve opened my mind to everybody, but I’ve never volunteered the story, and nobody ever mentioned my aunt to me. I’m not sure why I’m actually writing this right now, but I feel that this is a part of me that needs to be known, maybe just to honor my Aunt Tomeii.

To this day, I still pray to the spirit of my Aunt Tomeii when I need guidance in difficult situations, and I believe that at least that part of her spirit that remains in my memories of her helps guide me to make the correct decisions in my life. I hope that I might one day fulfill my own destiny with the grace, humility, and honor that my Aunt Tomeii displayed.

I have always loved you, my beloved Aunt Tomeii. May your ashes find a strong current and keep circling the our beloved ocean forever!

* * *

It was decided that I take the rental car to the city. I had Jim lying down in the back, still fast asleep. I stopped at a uniform store and got a nurse’s outfit. I had a little more than half our available cash, and I tried to avoid spending money needlessly. I rented a collapsible wheelchair from a pharmacy and stored it in the trunk of the car.

Debbie and Mary would be leaving after me, having Andrea drive them to the city. Andrea actually had a doctor’s appointment there, having taken Jim’s advice, and she had been be happy to be able to take them to the airport.

I returned the rental car, and they offered to drive my “patient” and I to the main terminal. A person from the rental company helped me get Jim into his new wheelchair, and a special bus arrived that was able to transport it.

At the airport, I looked at the departure monitors and picked the first flight to Dulles, thinking that if I cannot trust my co-wives, then Jim and I were already doomed.

I stopped at the appropriate airline counter, and made reservations in the name of Patricia James. To my surprise, I found that I already had reservations. I was stunned—where did they come from?

Was Mr. Voder trying to trap me? If so, it was an expensive trap... the tickets were first class and made out to Patricia James and an unnamed party of three. I tried to hide my surprise. I explained that due to unforeseen circumstances, two of my companions wouldn’t be traveling with me, and gave a phony name for Jim to the ticket agent, who needed it for the paperwork.

According to the ticket agent, there was a package that had been left there for me. I was apprehensive as she left, but she quickly returned with a sealed envelope. I took the envelope and placed it in my purse.

The ticket agent helped me transfer Jim to an airport wheelchair, and we checked the collapsible one as baggage to Washington.

Jim and I got to the gate without any mishap, and since Jim was incapacitated and in a wheelchair, and also due to the fact that we had first class tickets, we were given quite preferential treatment.

I looked at the envelope that I had been given and broke the seal. Inside was a driver’s license with my picture that had the name “Patricia James.” The birth date was a little more than a year before my actual birthday, and it listed an address in Vermont as my residence. This would be useful for renting cars, assuming that the “Patricia James” alias remained safe. There was also a small stack of fifty and twenty dollar bills.

The flight was uneventful, and when we arrived at Dulles, an airline employee was waiting with a new wheelchair for Jim.

I still had most of the money that I had when I started out, plus the money from Mr. Voder. It was easy to hire a sky cap to get us transportation to Falls Church.

At the Holiday Inn, I found that there were steps leading up to the entrance to the hotel. The cab driver helped me get Jim up the steps, and I was also helped by a kind gentleman that saw us struggle. We got Jim up without incident.

I went to the front desk, and found, to my dismay, that there were no rooms available. There were no vacancies! I silently said a prayer to my late Aunt Tomeii for help and wondered what to do next. I asked if there were any messages for me, and found there was one from a Victor Oder. I realized that this was a name that was familiar. The message simply directed me to a restaurant that was nearby. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I trusted Mr. Voder implicitly.

I was about to wheel Jim back down those front steps, when I got an idea. I asked the clerk if anybody asked for me to please direct them to that same restaurant. I hoped that this message would get to Mary and Debbie. I realized now that it was a good thing that Mary and Debbie knew my “code name.”

The restaurant was located in a Sheraton motel, and I looked in the restaurant, which was mostly empty. I wondered why Mr. Voder had suggested this restaurant, and realized that the front desk at the Sheraton might have another message for me.

Indeed there was. Patricia James had an entire suite reserved. All I needed to do was to show my identification and sign in.

A porter took Jim’s wheelchair and accompanied me into the elevator and then into the suite. The two of us moved my husband from the wheelchair to the bed, where he remained sleeping. I handed the porter a twenty dollar bill for his help.

* * *

The phone in the room rang two hours later. It was Debbie. She had gotten my message at the Holiday Inn and wanted to know what I wanted her to do. I told her to meet me in my room and she arrived a few minutes later. I felt Debbie’s concern when she saw that Jim was still unconscious, but I assured her that I still didn’t feel any apprehension for him.

When Mary didn’t arrive an hour or so later, Debbie decided to go back to the Holiday Inn. It was a lucky thing that she did. The message left by “Patricia James” was apparently no longer there at the front desk, and Mary had simply stayed at the location, choosing a place at the bar where she nursed a drink or two, checking the lobby every five or ten minutes.

Debbie must have felt Mary’s presence, because she found Mary almost immediately at the bar. Debbie quickly brought Mary back to the Sheraton.

In the suite, the three of us hugged very tightly.

“Still nothing?” Mary asked, concerned.

I shook my head, but at that moment, I felt something touch me. It was very faint, and I thought I might be imagining things when I felt it again...

I looked at Jim. I still didn’t have that feeling that he was completely in my mind, but something had changed. Without hesitation, I reached into his mind, which seemed a bit more active. In fact, he was thinking about the moon and stars...

I knew from Jim and Mary how they originally “met” (when she hit him with a jeep!), and the connection they made was that they were both looking in the sky late at night. He was reliving that starry scene in his mind.

“Jim’s back!” I said, excited. “I mean, he’s not completely back, but he’s dreaming!”

Unfortunately, things went black for me right after that.

* * *

I woke up, and found myself nude in a bed in a motel room. I realized that I was in the suite.

As if on cue, Jim walked in. “Wakey, wakey, sleepy head!”

“What happened?” I asked, and was amazed at how groggy my voice sounded.

“Mary and Debbie seem to think that you had been awake for nearly fifty hours straight.”

“You’re all right!” I said, seeing my husband in his usual cheerful mood.

“I think my brain needed a recharge. I woke up and saw the two girls holding you. Apparently, you had collapsed after shouting something about me. I saw them and I reached out to them with my mind, and they turned around and called me. I was concerned, since you looked unconscious, but it was obvious—at least to me—that you were just sleeping. That’s when Mary told me how long you had been awake. You’re simply amazing, my love!”

I was quite hungry and thirsty.

“Debbie and Mary are fetching you some breakfast right now, Aimee. Don’t get up. You’ve been sleeping for eighteen hours.”

“Eighteen hours?” I asked. I normally don’t sleep that long, but I had missed a couple of days’ sleep.

“It’s a little past noon,” Jim said, looking at his watch. “Actually, almost twelve thirty. As soon as I realized that you were waking up, I sent Debbie and Mary to get you some nourishment. I knew that when I woke up, I was quite hungry myself.”

I simply nodded. I was very hungry.

“I will love you forever, Master,” I said softly.

“I love you, my darling Aimee.”

We simply looked at one another, saying nothing... thinking nothing... just looking at each other. Thoughts may have passed between us, but we ignored them. We felt each other’s thoughts, but paid them no heed. We were just feeling the moment, simply enjoying each other.

“Oh, shit,” I heard a voice say. “Now they’re both got that blank look on them.”

Without breaking our contact, Jim sent a message of love to both of our other wives.

As one, Debbie and Mary left a tray of food on the dresser and left the room.

I ate a cold breakfast at two-thirty. I’m not sure what Jim and I said, but we just were looking at each other, enjoying each other, feeling each other.

We were sharing. It was like sex, but without the physical sensation. I cannot describe it any other way.

* * *

Jim took a nap after I left the bed. I smiled as he took the same side of the bed that I had occupied earlier.

I gave him one last loving look when I left the bedroom. Our husband is sure cute when he sleeps, even if he manages to scare me half to death!

Debbie and Mary looked at me when I entered the living room. “He’s taking a nap,” I said.

Debbie nodded. “We’ve lost some time.”

“Time is our friend,” I said, smiling.

“Time is not our friend, Aimee,” Mary said, sternly. “They will find us. It’s only a matter of time. The people that are looking for us are not stupid, and we are not professionals at eluding those kinds of people. They will know the rental car was returned. You should have left the car in long term parking. It would have been longer before they realized that we had used the airport. I only realized that when I was at Newark.”

“There is no danger right now,” I assured Mary.

She looked at me.

I looked back at her, and I opened my mind to her.

Mary’s eyes grew wide as she realized that I was letting her in without warning. I didn’t enter her mind, but I allowed her to enter mine. I had no secrets from my wives, nor from our husband.

After a moment, Mary lowered her eyes. “We may indeed be in no danger right now,” she finally stated. “That can change, Aimee. We should not be foolhardy.”

I simply nodded. Mary was a take-charge type of person, and I didn’t want to upset her feeling of her place within our little family. I thought a quick flash of love toward her and she smiled at me.

“You were sweet when you told me what you said yesterday,” I said to Mary.

“That you aren’t third in his heart?” Mary asked. “It’s perfectly obvious to me.”

“He was meant for us all. We all were meant for him.”

“What if Debbie and I were just a means for him to find you?” Mary asked.

“Mary, you don’t believe in God,” I pointed out. “You do not believe in predestination.”

“Neither do I,” Debbie replied, looking at me. “The important part is that you believe in it, Aimee.”

“We need transportation,” I said, changing the subject.

“Limo drivers don’t mind working for cash,” Debbie said.

“Mr. Voder arranged this room,” I said. “In addition, he booked my flight with Jim at the airport, and even left me a package containing cash and a driver’s license in the name of Patricia James. We might as well trust him. If had been going to betray us, he could have done it a lot easier by simply having us met at the airport yesterday.”

“Can you get in touch with this person?” Mary asked.

“When it is the right time, he will contact us,” I said, confidently.

“How do you know that?” Mary asked.

“Because I know it also,” came a male voice behind me. My husband had come out from his nap.

Without turning around, I smiled at my two wives, and sent a quick message of love to my beloved.

* * *

“Mary, I agree with Aimee about this Mr. Voder,” Jim said. “We talked about this yesterday while you were asleep, Aimee. Mary needs to see that he has been extremely helpful up to now. We should not, however, blindly trust anybody else outside our family.”

“I know why Aimee trusts him,” Mary said. “Do you trust him also just because your wife trusts him?”

Jim winced when Mary referred to me as his wife, as if that title didn’t apply to her. His eyes flashed, and Mary’s eyes looked down. Something had exchanged between them.

“I have known a few people that match the description that Aimee gives me about this Mr. Voder,” he said.

Mary said softly, her eyes still lowered, “I have known such people, too.”

“Master?” I said.

“Yes, Aimee?”

“May I humbly suggest something?”

I know that Jim sometimes has a problem with me when I call him that word, and speak like that, especially in front of others, even his wives. I used that knowledge to convey the importance of what I was about to say. For the first time since he had awakened, I felt him quickly pull out of my mind. He knew that I had something important to say, and he wanted to hear it instead of pulling it from my mind. Jim is very kind like that. I tried to refocus on what I needed to say.

“You may,” Jim said, simply.

I took a deep breath. “Let’s take some time off. The three of us have been sick with worry about you, even though I knew you weren’t in danger. I still don’t feel any imminent danger.”

Jim didn’t answer me. Instead, he waited. He knew there was more coming.

I turned to Debbie and said, “Debbie, our husband needs to spend some time with his first wife. Let us take a walk.”

Debbie’s confusion was palpable, and she didn’t answer. She did stand up and nodded at me.

Without looking at my husband, I walked toward the door to the suite, and opened the door. Debbie walked out.

Just before I left, I turned to my husband and said slowly, spacing out my words slowly to convey the gravity of the situation. “Debbie and I will meet you for dinner tomorrow. Expect a phone call late in the afternoon. In the meantime, you need to apologize to the woman that pulled you out of your coma, and who is willing to walk naked into the den of the dragon with nothing more than her fingernails. If I see the two of you tomorrow and am not satisfied that you have done your best, then it will be the last time you will ever see me again.”

I closed the door behind me, unaware that I had my hands clenched into a fist. I opened my fingers and saw that my fingernails had dug into my palm, actually drawing blood.

Debbie was staring at me as if I had gone certifiably insane.

I pointed a bloody finger toward the elevator and said, “Let’s depart. Our Master is going to be very busy. I have plenty of money thanks to Mr. Voder. Let’s find another hotel for tonight, Debbie.”

“Yes, Master,” Debbie said, almost inaudibly.

Inside my head, I felt the tears that I refused to let my eyes shed. I knew that I had given an ultimatum to my Master, and that if I followed through on my threat, I would end my own life moments afterward.

I loved my Master more than life itself, but the Master I loved was the most loving Master a person could ever have. I cannot, and I most definitely will not, serve a cruel Master.

Ever since the first time I ever laid eyes on Jim, my instincts told me that he was a good person. I still felt that way. I realized that sometimes, Jim just needed to be reminded that he was such a person.

Debbie and I took a cab and I picked a town name at random and told the driver to take us into Arlington. I could feel Debbie’s mood—she was sick with worry and very confused. I tried to think of words to reassure her, but I knew that words wouldn’t help.

We found an expensive hotel in Arlington, and we rented a suite, paying cash.

Debbie and I sat on the sofa, neither one of us talking. I know that what had transpired between our husband, our co-wife, was very much in the forefront of our minds. I thought about my Aunt Tomeii and thought about the new spiral that I had created. I tried to see if I could find the white in that spiral, but the only white I could see was simply hope.

Eventually, I broke the silence to pick up the phone and order room service.

The waitress that arrived did not seem too surprised to see two nude women sitting in the living room without any shyness. We silently let her set up the service. We paid for the service with cash, leaving quite a generous tip.

Debbie and I ate without saying a word. Neither of us was particularly hungry.

Afterward, I took Debbie’s hand and led her to the bedroom. I did my level best to make Debbie feel as loved as she did when she was with Jim or with Mary. I am by no means an expert in making love to a woman, but I tried as hard as I could. Eventually, I felt Debbie start to react. By morning the next day, I had learned a considerable deal in the art of giving and receiving love from my co-wife; a lesson that I hoped, one day, I would share with my other co-wife, and even, perhaps, my Master.

During our lovemaking, we shared an emotional contact within each other’s minds. We were both hungry, and were using the physical love we were sharing to take our minds from that hunger.

I know that there was an emptiness within my soul that I tried my best to ignore. There was a Jim-sized hole that I prayed endlessly to the spirit of my Aunt Tomeii would once again be re-filled. I could feel a similar emptiness within Debbie, and our lovemaking was very vigorous to help us to at least temporarily take our minds off the pain.

After we got up, I made reservations for four at a rather expensive restaurant called the Brasserie at the Watergate. The reservations were for a party of four, and I could feel Debbie’s apprehension as I gave the count.

At noon, after Debbie and I shared a very long and sensuous shower, we went shopping and then visited the Lincoln Memorial, where I stared at the statue of the great man. Debbie seemed affected by the Memorial as well, as I could feel her melancholy as she perhaps thought of the sacrifice that this man ultimately paid to help restore this country onto the path of greatness.

It was nearly five thirty before either Debbie or I actually exchanged a word. We hadn’t spoken to each other since we were waiting for the elevator at the Sheraton.

Somehow, no words needed to be spoken.