The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Dream State

Version: $Revision: 1.12 $ $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 15—“Life is very short, and there’s no time for fussing and fighting my friends...”

I admit it. Sometimes, I’m an asshole.

Actually, that’s really not much of an admission, so let me try that again.

I admit it. On more than one occasion, I have found that I can become the biggest asshole in existence.

We had been in the process of deciding what we were going to do, now that we were all together in Washington, and I was explaining to Mary that I trusted Aimee’s investigator, a Mr. Voder. I was quite taken aback when Mary asked me if I only trusted Mr. Voder because Aimee trusted him. It wasn’t the fact that she asked me that question, but it was the way she referred to Aimee using the words “your wife,” implying that she and perhaps Debbie weren’t as important to me. I had known that Mary sometimes felt a bit unsure of her role in our relationship, but at the moment, I didn’t want to take the time to deal with this.

The result was that I ended up doing something extremely stupid. My angry and unthinking response was to send a terse message mentally to Mary: “Have you decided to leave this relationship?”

As soon as I did it, I saw Mary’s reaction. She lowered her eyes. Immediately, I realized that I had crossed a line that I had promised myself that I would never cross. I had made a bald, out and out threat to a person that I truly loved! What had I done? What kind of asshole was I?

Aimee said, almost too quietly, “Master?”

“Yes, Aimee?” I asked, hoping that she hadn’t caught my careless slip. After all, it had been a mental thought between Mary and me.

“May I humbly suggest something?”

Oh, shit. Aimee was using her slave persona in front of my other wives. Aimee was submissive deep down, but it was a part of her that she only shared with me. I knew that the other girls normally act submissive with me, although they used to call me “Master.” Aimee’s doing so now was her unsubtle way of trying to get my attention. It also told me that my thoughtlessness with Mary had not gone unnoticed.

I held my breath. “You may,” I said carefully, not wanting to let too much emotion rush out.

Aimee took a deep breath and said, “Let’s take some time off. The three of us have been sick with worry about you, even though I personally knew that you hadn’t been in any danger. There’s still no imminent danger for any of us right now.”

Slowly, I let my breath out. Aimee might want to talk with me alone. I knew that I needed to talk with Mary alone as well.

It was obvious that Aimee hadn’t finished, yet. She had a look on her face that told me that she just reached a decision. I knew something important was about to happen, so I just listened, waiting for her to speak again.

“Debbie,” Aimee said, turning to my other wife. “Our husband needs to spend some time with his first wife.” She pointedly emphasized the word “first.” “Let’s take a walk.”

I felt a bit of relief. Aimee was going to give Mary and I some time alone so I could apologize to her. Aimee was always a very smart person—one of the smartest I’ve met in this life.

Debbie nodded slightly in response. I hadn’t seen any indication from Debbie that she knew what I had “said” to Mary, but I knew that Debbie almost certainly saw Mary’s reaction. Mary and Debbie were very close; Mary acted much like a mother to Debbie.

Aimee walked toward the door, not bothering to look at me. I knew that I would have to spend some time alone with her. For a person that has a submissive side, Aimee was quite capable of giving orders.

As Aimee went to close the door, she paused. She turned around, and for the first time in my life, I saw my Aimee’s face completely free of all emotion. It was as if I was looking at one of those porcelain china doll masks (I know I keep on mixing Asian and Polynesian metaphors when referring to Aimee, but that was the image I had). Aimee’s face had absolutely no expression on it at all.

Again, I held my breath. Aimee was going to say something, and it would be important. Everything went silent. If this had been a movie, you might hear crickets chirping.

Aimee quietly released her bombshell. Each word was enunciated perfectly and free of any emotional content—almost strained.

“Debbie and I will meet you for dinner tomorrow. In the meantime, you need to apologize to the woman that pulled you out of your coma, and who is willing to walk nude into the dungeon of the dragon with no weapons other than her fingernails. If I see you tomorrow and I’m not satisfied that you have done your duty, then it will be the last time you will ever see me again.”

My jaw dropped, but Aimee wasn’t interested in my reaction. She simply turned as soon as she said her piece and closed the door.

My mind couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.

Aimee had just walked out on me!

It was a few moments before I remembered to breathe again.

Mary said, “You know, I didn’t think it was possible for you to anger her. You may have lost your true love forever.”

Would Aimee really leave me? Could she? Was it within her power? Somehow, I knew the answer to those three questions was “yes.” Aimee was a very strong-willed individual. She could easily walk out of my life and I would never, ever, hear from her again.

However, there was something new that was bothering me now. Something important. “Mary,” I said. “You are wrong. My true love consists of three wonderful wives. For me, true love can not exist without all three of you together.”

Mary didn’t say anything. I had withdrawn from all three of my wives’ minds after I made that stupid threat to Mary, but I didn’t need to read Mary’s mind in order to know that she didn’t believe my last statement in the least.

I can’t truthfully say that I had been unaware of Mary’s doubts. I had known about her feelings, especially once Aimee had became an official part of our relationship. Nevertheless, Mary had never outwardly seemed to let it bother her. She seemed to willingly give Aimee and I our time alone, just as I gave Debbie and Mary their time alone. I had apparently interpreted this incorrectly as not being a real problem and something that I could deal with at a later time. It turns out that I had been very wrong.

I had to admit that I did feel that Aimee was something special. Of all the people I knew, she had known and outwardly sensed my special gift without me somehow interacting with her first. This was something that nobody else had ever done before or since.

It was now clear that Mary’s doubt really ran deep. It was obvious that Mary thought that perhaps she—and maybe even Debbie—might have been mere stepping stones for me to eventually find Aimee. If that was the case, then I knew that I had done both Mary and Debbie a great disservice.

Did I really act like I loved Aimee more than either of my other wives? I thought about my actions and can see where it could have looked that way.

I truly loved Aimee, but that was also true for Mary and Debbie as well. Aimee and I had a close bond, but I also had a very close one with Mary as well.

I had seen Mary in my mind before I had even come out of my coma. Aimee also mentioned that Mary had been responsible for pulling me out of my coma when she left the room just now. I had never really discussed my personal relationship with Mary with any of my other wives, mostly out of respect for her privacy. Aimee, however, seemed to know that all this and had pointed out that Mary was indeed very special.

While Aimee was catching up on her sleep the previous day, Mary and Debbie had filled me in with what had gone on in my “absence.” Mary had come up with a pretty good plan to go after the people looking for us, rather than sit around and wait to be discovered. She had shown extreme courage in coming to Falls Church, which was probably where this Colonel DiPietro was located. Aimee’s description of Mary’s cool courage in the sight of a faceless and possibly well organized enemy was correct.

Once again, I was surprised at how easily Aimee could look right into the soul of another person. She sensed Mary’s doubts, as well as the fact that when faced with a decision, Mary had a very logical and intelligent head on her shoulders.

I didn’t realize it, but tears were flowing down my face freely.

Mary moved close to me and held me close. “Aimee won’t leave you, Jim. She loves you.”

I shook my head. Mary still didn’t realize why I was upset.

“No, Mary. You’ve got it all wrong. Aimee may be angry at me, but that’s not why I’m upset.”

I felt, rather than saw, Mary simply shake her head.

“I’m upset at myself, Mary, because I have failed you.”

I held Mary close to me and wondered how I would fix up this big mess.

* * *

Aimee had ordered me to “do my duty” to Mary.

As I said before, despite being a submissive deep down, Aimee didn’t hesitate to give orders herself, especially when she knew without any doubt that she was correct.

An important part of my duty to Mary was to make her know how I felt about her, and for Mary to know it as deeply and as completely that Aimee did. I had no idea how to do it, or if I could even do it.

How does one prove oneself to another? If Mary had doubts about how I felt about her, then those doubts were probably due to my own behavior toward her. I was the cause of those doubts, and I needed to erase them.

Of course, you might think that being able to root around in Mary’s mind and even change things around, you might think that this was an easy problem for me to solve. That is completely and utterly wrong!

There is no way that you can force a person to trust you. People just don’t work that way. Either a person trusts you, or that person doesn’t. If it’s somebody you have a relationship with, you really need to earn their trust. If somebody trusts you and you betray that trust, then that person will never trust you again. I have always believed that forgiving a betrayer is just giving permission for that person to betray you again.

If I force Mary to believe that I loved her, then I would be betraying her trust. She might believe what I force her to believe, but in doing so, she will have lost that spark that made Mary that unique individual that she is and that I love. It would destroy her soul, for lack of a better word.

Don’t let anybody ever tell you differently: there is no fucking way to force anybody to trust you. Trust must always be earned, or it is meaningless and, more importantly, useless.

My only hope is that I hadn’t yet betrayed Mary’s trust. I had threatened her, but I never had any intention to follow through on it. If Mary didn’t think I betrayed her trust, then I may still have a way to fix her doubts right now, especially if her doubts were based simply on insecurity. Maybe, all I’d need to do is to find out how we can get beyond that insecurity.

To do this, there was only one solution. Mary and I needed to talk. This was definitely not a time for those “Jedi Mind Tricks” from that movie that I had watched back in Utah with my three wives. This was serious, and as Aimee pointed out, it needed to be done now.

In retrospect, it was interesting how much I was focused on Mary’s trust. I had been talking about trust right before I made that stupid mental jab at Mary.

I took many deep breaths, trying to bring my emotions under control. I refused to wipe the tears off my face but I willed myself to calm down.

It took time.

Finally, I managed to get myself under control.

I pulled away from our embrace, and looked at my first wife. Mary, that extraordinary woman that actually managed to somehow pull me out of a coma, was an emotional wreck. She looked confused and I could see that she was also trying to get herself steady.

I wished that I could enter her mind and tell her that everything would be all right. I wanted to wipe those tears from her face and shower her with kisses all over her body. I wanted to hug her and tell her the bogey man was all gone and her life would be lived happily ever after.

How did I deserve woman as wonderful as Mary, and how could I carelessly just ignore her feelings and possibly drive her away?

The previous day, when I woke up from my exhausted sleep, I saw an unconscious Aimee in the arms of Mary, who was holding her like a mother would hold a daughter. Mary had her arms around Aimee’s head protectively, Aimee’s face was resting against Mary’s breast. I remembered thinking how mother-like Mary was, protecting her co-wife and good friend. I had seen Mary do this before with Debbie, and I think Mary thought of her relationship with my two other wives to be like she was a mother to them, especially due to the fact that she was almost ten years older than either of the other two.

It was quite obvious that Mary truly loved Aimee, and Aimee loved her back.

When Aimee was unconscious in Mary’s arms, I felt within Aimee’s mind and found that she was merely asleep, dreaming of a moonlit sky.

Both Debbie and Aimee had been worried sick about Aimee. Apparently, they thought that Aimee might be having the same “dreamless sleep” that I had undergone for a few days. I reassured Mary and Debbie that Aimee was really dreaming, and Debbie explained to me how Aimee had been without sleep all the while that I had been unconscious.

I noticed now that there was something was odd about Aimee’s dreaming. As I said, she was dreaming of a moonlit sky. It was a dream I had constantly... the sky as it appeared to me the instant before I was hit by a jeep. There was no way that Aimee had experienced that image first hand, and since it was a common dream for me, I initially figured that it was a dream that she had witnessed when our minds had merged together. However, I was now reexamining that dream that Aimee had.

Thinking about Aimee dreaming about the sky, I glanced at Mary. Aimee’s dream was some sort of clue, but I had no idea what it meant. What was so special about that dream? Aside from the fact that it was a second-hand dream—one that Aimee had seen in my mind—something was nagging at me that I was missing something important. Thinking back to the previous day, I realized that her dream was almost perfectly identical to the one that I had. Was there a subtle difference in the dream Aimee had from mine?

After thinking about her dream for a few moments, I thought that maybe it wasn’t the difference in the dreams, after all. Maybe I was just groggy from waking up from the long period of unconsciousness. Maybe the difference was just the fact that I misread Aimee’s dream.

Suddenly, I had another thought: What if the clue was just the fact that Aimee just simply had that particular dream?

I still vividly remember that dream. It seems to last forever and is very peaceful. My mind refuses to acknowledge anything that happened immediately after I had seen the moon and stars, something the doctors called traumatic amnesia (or was that post-traumatic?). The way they described it, my brain doesn’t want to remember certain horrible events, so it locks the memories away. Instead, my brain focuses on the happier memory about the moon and the stars, and it plays it over and over in a seemingly endless loop, a peaceful dance in my brain that replays over and over a wonderful moment...

That’s it... it was a wonderful moment!

I remember Mary being surprised after I woke up from my coma and told her that I had been looking at the stars before I had gotten hit by the jeep. She said she had been doing the exact same thing.

At the time, I thought it was because Mary had been looking at the stars, she didn’t see where she was driving and hit me. How else was I supposed to take it?

Could I have been missing the point all along?

What if, in that moment before that jeep hit my body causing my head to hit the pavement and the tires to roll over my ribs (I read the accident report)... what if Mary and I had connected, just for that brief moment?

All along, I had thought that my connection with Mary, Debbie, and even Aimee had been due to the fractured skull that resulted after the Jeep hit me. Now, it was obvious that if that had been so, any connection to Mary should have occurred AFTER my head hit the ground. That wasn’t the case! As I mentioned, I have no memory of my head hitting the ground... instead, my only conscious memory is from the immediate moment before... the moon and the stars.

All of a sudden, it became clear to me now. I had seen the moon and stars, and so had Mary. That was the connection! The two of us had actually connected immediately BEFORE the accident!

“HOLY SHIT!” I shouted.

My outburst totally terrified Mary, who had been deep in thought herself. She looked at me, her entire body going into a martial arts defensive position automatically.

My mouth hung open as I stared at Mary. I had never given any thought of what Mary’s job had been in the military. Her rank of lieutenant seemed to be associated with a paper pusher, and I had imagined her as some sort of receptionist or records keeper. Her jobs after leaving the service—waitress, store manager, some sort of manager at a bank—none of those really required too much experience, and had confirmed that her role had been secretarial. Mary never mentioned that she had ever taken any kind of martial arts training, although I had heard her suggesting to Debbie that a downstairs gym might be a nice addition to the house in Hawaii.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” I said, hurriedly. “I just realized something.”

Mary’s stance eased into a less active, but still defensive position. She noticed that I was watching her body movements and forced herself to relax into an even less active and less threatening position.

I ignored this interesting little facet of information for the moment. It wasn’t important now, but I tried to make a note to remember it.

Mary still hadn’t answered me, but I realized that the worry and the confusion that I had seen in her had completely disappeared. She was breathing heavy, and her limbs had a slight shake to them, but that was almost certainly due to the release of adrenaline into her bloodstream after my outburst.

I willed myself to calm down, and did so. Mary watched me with amazement on her face.

“I’m really sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean to shout.”

Still no answer.

“I’m also sorry for threatening you by asking if you wanted to leave our marriage. It was utterly stupid and cruel, and I wouldn’t blame you for being upset or even leaving me, just like Aimee has threatened.”

The shakes left Mary’s body, and her own breathing was returning to a normal level. She still said nothing.

“There’s something important you need to know, Mary.”

Again, no answer. Mary’s entire body was relaxed, as if she hadn’t been upset or ready to pull my arms out of their sockets just moments before. It was amazing. I knew how to do this; I just willed it in my brain. I had been able to do it since I came out of the coma, and was probably doing it while I was in the coma, which is why the people monitoring me hadn’t seen all the brain activity going on when I was “visiting” Mary.

“I just realized that you are very much like Aimee,” I said.

Mary seemed confused. “In what way?”

“I thought Aimee was unique in that she connected with me without me reaching out to her,” I explained. “Now, I just realized that you connected with me the same way that first time.”

“You mean, right before I ran over you?” Mary asked.

“Yes. When I was looking at the sky. We connected.”

“Of course,” Mary said, surprised that I had only just realized that.

“You knew?” I asked, feeling very surprised myself now. “When did you know? How did you know?”

“That day we had the picnic after you got out of the hospital,” Mary answered. “You mentioned about the stars, and told me yourself... we connected!”

I thought about that conversation and shook my head. “No! I was talking about connecting with you after I got hit by the jeep. I had been ‘visiting’ you.”

“Oh!” said Mary.

Holy shit!

At least, Mary and I were talking now.

* * *

“Why didn’t I realize that before?” I asked.

“Maybe you never looked before,” Mary replied, simply. “You saw it with Aimee, and I guess you thought it was unique. Maybe that’s why I felt so hurt.”

“I just found out because I was thinking about you.” I said. “I made the realization that I had made some assumptions that weren’t true.”

Mary nodded. “I was wondering what you were thinking about. You had been quiet for about a half hour.”

“Aimee was dreaming of the moon and the stars yesterday when I woke up,” I explained. “I just realized that she was only the second person other than me to have seen that.”

I pulled Mary close to me and we kissed.

“I’m truly sorry, Mary. I truly am. I never meant to hurt you.”

I instinctively knew that words would never be sufficient. “Come into my mind, darling,” I whispered. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

For the first time in my life, I opened my mind to Mary. Without any hesitation, Mary entered my mind.

* * *

Somewhere, I heard a phone ring.

I was in a bed, and had a nude Mary on my arms. Her body was partially covering my right side.

I waited for the phone to ring again so I could locate its direction.

I was lucky in that the phone was to my left, the side that Mary had left relatively uncovered. Still, I needed to move a bit in order to reach the phone.

“Hello,” my voice croaked.

“It’s Aimee.”

Aimee. My beloved Aimee. She’s still speaking with me. I had news for her... good news!

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Five thirty.”

“AM or PM?”

There was a pause. “Late afternoon.”

“Who is it?” whispered a totally exhausted Mary.

“Aimee,” I whispered back. “It’s five thirty in the afternoon.”

“Thursday or Friday?” Mary asked.

“Good question,” I whispered back. “Thursday or Friday?” I repeated into the phone.

“Friday.” I could hear ice dripping from Aimee’s words.

I sighed. “Did we miss dinner?”

“No, Jim. I was calling to ask if the two of you were going to be joining us.” Aimee had emphasized the word “two” so I knew that I was still in hot water with her.

“Hungry?” I whispered to Mary.

“Starving,” Mary said. The truth was, we hadn’t eaten since Aimee left.

“The two of us will join you, Aimee,” I said, emphasizing the number.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Aimee replied sarcastically.

I sighed, which Aimee heard. “Aimee... I’m sorry...”

“Don’t, Jim,” Aimee warned. There was something in her voice that told me the phone was the wrong medium for apologies.

“Please, Aimee,” I insisted, speaking quickly to prevent Aimee from interrupting me. “I’m sorry that we’re out of it. We’ve been in bed for a while.”

“Whatever,” Aimee said, dismissively. “Have you heard of a place called the Watergate?”

“The Watergate? The place that got Nixon busted?” I asked.

Aimee sighed. She doesn’t do that very often. I think that she thought that I was testing her limits. I wasn’t doing it intentionally.

“Can you meet us at the Brasserie? It’s at the Watergate, across from the Kennedy Center at Foggy Bottom. Any cab will know how to get there.”

“What time?” I asked.

“Seven thirty.”

“That’s two hours?” I asked.

“One hour, fifty-five minutes.”

“We’ll be there,” I said, emphasizing the pronoun.

The phone disconnected.

I shook my head. Aimee was obviously angry at me. I have never known her to hold her anger overnight. I knew my behavior toward Mary yesterday was inexcusable, but she sounded like I had done something wrong to her. I had no idea what it was.

Mary sat up in bed. “We have two hours?”

“Less, actually. I have a feeling Aimee is still pissed off at me about yesterday.”

Mary shook her head. “No, she’s not. She might not condone what you did. She’s very perceptive, you know. She’s not angry about that, though. If she’s angry right now, it’s probably the same reason I’d be angry if I had been on the other end of that conversation.”

“What did I do?”

Mary shook her head. “It’s not what you did. It’s what you didn’t do. Did you tell her that you love her? She is still your wife, Jim.”

Oh, fuck! I had no idea where Aimee was right now. There was no way to call her back.

I had an idea, though. “Do you think we can find a florist on the way to Foggy Bottom?”

Mary nodded and smiled. “We’ll need about thirty minutes for a good two-person shower, and fifteen minutes to get dressed. Did Aimee pack you a suit? You mentioned the Watergate. That’s high class. I wonder how she got a reservation so soon.”

I had no idea where any of my clothes were. Mary jumped out of bed and went to look. “Jim! Aimee packed the Armani. There’s an iron in the closet here, I’ll get it ready for you!”

“No, dearest,” I said to Mary, pulling her away from the closet and into the bathroom. “It’s time to shower. I love the smell of Mary and Jim, but I don’t think the Watergate staff will enjoy it. I know how to iron my own suits. I did it way before we met under the stars!”

Mary smiled at me and we snuggled into the shower together. We got the water warm enough and we each got a little bar of soap and started lathering the other. Of course, I was focused on Mary’s lovely breasts and pubic hair, while Mary’s attention seemed to be mainly at an organ that was getting more and more erect.

After about twenty minutes, the tiny bar of soap had disappeared, so I started rubbing the cleansing water into the same general area on Mary’s body. I was getting distracted because Mary’s attentions on my cock were getting it very close to the point of eruption. I felt my muscles jerk as my orgasm washed over me.

Mary seemed a little disappointed in the tiny amount of fluid that she generated.

I saw her expression and shrugged, “What do you expect? You think a guy in his thirties can make it with a hot chick a half dozen times in twenty-four hours?”

“Was it only six times?” Mary asked, mischievously.

“Maybe more,” I said. “Come on, hand me the shampoo.”

Mary did and I squeezed a large amount on my hands and started to massage it into her wavy brown hair. I remembered watching Debbie and Mary play in the tub, and I tried to do Mary’s hair the same way that Debbie did, working up a great lather and massaging my fingers into her scalp. Mary actually purred like a kitten in response.

Without warning, I dunked Mary’s head under the shower head to rinse off the first shampoo. Having mostly completed the job, I started a second cleaning run, not using as much shampoo nor massaging as much... just enough to get the hair full of lather. Once again I dunked Mary’s head for her final rinse.

“Thanks, Jim!” Mary said, and she hopped out of the shower and started drying. I could barely see her body through the misty panels, so I reached out with my mind and quietly entered Mary’s mind, opening her eyes and looking in the mirror. The mirror wasn’t too fogged over, and I got a nicer view of Mary’s large breasts.

“You rascal!” Mary squealed as she realized that I was “peeping” on her. Despite her protest, Mary pointed the hair dryer at the mirror and cleared the steam from it as if by magic, giving me a much better view of her lovely body.

I giggled in response, and pulled mostly out of Mary’s mind, leaving her to her privacy.

I rinsed the shampoo out of my own hair, and then shut off the water. I could still hear the whine of the hair dryer, and I felt around for a towel. I couldn’t find one, so I reached over to where Mary was and grabbed the towel from her shoulders.

“Hey!” Mary said, barely audible over the hum of the dryer.

“You’re done with it,” I pointed out.

Her towel was wet, but in the army, I had learned to make do with smaller and sometimes wetter towels. It wasn’t a big deal. Just move the water down your body, letting gravity do most of the work.

I dried myself, and moved out to the closet. Inside the closet was a ironing board and iron, and I quickly removed the creases from the black Armani suit that Debbie had insisted on purchasing for me. It really didn’t need too much work on it, but I kept the ironing board out in case Mary needed it. (One quickly learns what women need when you are married to three of them at the same time!)

Mary already had a dress on the bed, and it was in pretty good condition. I decided to help her out and gave it a once over with the iron on its gentlest setting.

I found the rest of my clothes and started to get dressed.

Mary exited nude from the bathroom, her hair almost looking completely normal already. She smiled at me when she saw I left the iron out, and when she picked up her dress, she noticed that it was still warm. “Jim! That was so sweet of you!”

“Just thought I’d help you move your lazy ass!” I laughed, which earned me a playful swat on the ass as I was pulling on my boxers.

“How much time do you have?” Mary asked.

I looked at the clock. “We’re running slightly late. Sixty-five minutes before Aimee hits the roof.”

“Let’s not give her another reason to be angry,” Mary suggested.

I pulled on my pants, and was about to grab my shirt when I noticed that Mary was just about completely dressed. When she wants, Mary can dress faster than a salesman who just found out the mafioso husband of the woman he’s in bed with just got home.

I hurriedly finished dressing, and Mary helped adjust my tie. “Looks fine. I’ll fix it when we get to the Watergate.”

Mary found Aimee’s stash of cash and took it, and the two of us went downstairs.

Luckily, we had no trouble getting a cab. Mary explained that we needed to get to a florist and then to the Watergate before 7:15. “You’ll get a ten dollar tip for every minute you can get us there early.”

“No problem, Miss!” the cabbie said, and we were off, propelled through the roads of the District of Columbia.

The florist we went to was near the Kennedy Center, and I had no problem getting two rose corsages that were already made. However, I needed a special one, and I was willing to pay just about any price to get it made pronto.

The old lady looked at me, the stack of bills in my hand, and asked, “What color?”

“Light purple, please.”

She nodded. She found a few of the blooms, and had a custom-made corsage made in record time. I left a hefty tip and Mary and I hurried back to the waiting cab.

“You’ll be five minutes early, Ma’am,” the cabbie said.

“Fine,” Mary said. “Keep it under the limit and you’ll still have fifty over the meter.”

“Your wish is my command,” the cabbie smiled.

We got to the Watergate at 7:14, and I paid the cabbie a hundred dollars, not wanting to wait to make change. He was surprised, but seeing the location, he simply shrugged and smiled as he went on his way.

* * *

It didn’t take me long to find Aimee and Debbie. I simply had to find a large group of men, and I knew that my two co-wives would be in the middle somewhere.

I was correct.

I escorted Mary, deftly holding my packages behind my back. The crowd parted as they saw Mary, and Debbie’s eyes lit up she they saw us.

Aimee was wearing a sheer light purple evening gown trimmed in a darker purple that I had never seen before this night. She also had on white high heels that must have been extremely high, since she looked to be almost as tall as Debbie.

Debbie, on the other hand, was wearing a similar gown, but in pink trimmed with red. She had on red flat shoes, which explained how their heights matched so nicely.

“Debbie,” I said, looking at my second wife. “Patricia,” using Aimee’s code name, since I figured that would be how she made the reservation. “Mary,” I said, looking at Mary. I held out the bag containing the packages. “These are for you.”

I opened the bag and pulled out the first rose corsage and handed it to Mary. Next, I pulled out a second identical one for Debbie.

Aimee looked at me, and there was a look in her eyes that said that she was still hurt. I looked at her as if to say, “I love you, my beloved,” and reached in and pulled out the last corsage.

Aimee actually gasped when she saw the corsage that was made from delicate, light orchids that almost perfectly matched the dress that she was wearing.

Ignoring all the people that were surrounding us, Aimee reached up and threw her arms around me. I heard her whisper in my ear, “Thank you, Master. I love you.”

“I love you, my beloved Aimee,” I said in a voice that only she could hear. “I’m sorry for not telling you that when you called. My only defense was that I had been roused from a deep sleep.”

“I’m sorry for getting angry at you, Master,” Aimee whispered back.

I kissed Aimee on the cheek and asked, softly, “Do we have reservations?”

Aimee nodded and then led the way. I followed her, taking Debbie and Mary on each arm, and the crowd parted as Aimee approached the maitre d’hotel.

“Reservations for James,” Aimee said. “Ms. Patricia James, and her three guests.”

“Of course, Ms. James,” the host said, expertly palming a fifty dollar bill that Aimee must have produced from thin air. “This way.”

The maitre d’ led us past a long line of people waiting to get in, and we were led to our table. It was beautiful, with exquisite linen and crystal. Four waiters appeared to pull our chairs out for us.

I was starting to like living the way Debbie likes to live.

The beautiful women that I had found in the midst of a crowd of men in the foyer of one of the most prestigious places in Washington, DC had been replaced by two even more ravishing and wonderful women, who had found their wayward husband returned from the Island of the Assholes.

* * *

Back at the Sheraton, the four of us retired to the king sized bed in the main bedroom. Instead of physical love, we shared emotional love by opening our minds to one another. I had done this first with Aimee, and earlier that day with Mary, and now I was doing it with all three of my wives at the same time.

It was amazing the amount of love we shared for one another. Each woman loved me in her own special way, and I loved each one specially as well. In addition, each wife shared a special love with each of co-wife.

I felt warm lips engulf my cock, and I didn’t need to open my eyes to know whose lips were on it. They belonged to Debbie, of course. Of the three of us, she was the one that preferred to express her love in a physical way, needing to feel the physical connection to others. Even so, she was still sharing the emotional connection with me and her two co-wives. In response, Aimee started suckling on Debbie’s breasts, and Mary started licking between Debbie’s legs.

Through our connection, I could feel Mary’s lips licking up and down Debbie’s slit. The fact that all four of us were sharing our minds together, we were able to focus Debbie’s pleasure receptors to the point where she was even more sensitive than usual. I could feel Debbie’s soft cry of orgasm vibrate around my penis.

With hardly any effort, Mary lifted Debbie’s body physically and deposited Debbie’s slick love nest firmly on my shaft. Keeping her hands on Debbie’s body, Mary assisted Debbie’s legs in moving her body up and down my shaft.

Aimee had repositioned her own body such that she was lying with her own honey pot on my face. I couldn’t see, but I rather felt her lips were still on Debbie’s breasts, licking and sucking.

We had really gotten Debbie to the point where she was hypersensitive. Mary was now kissing Debbie, Aimee was sucking her breasts, and Debbie was still riding me.

I had expected that my lovemaking earlier with Mary would have left me without much to pump into Debbie when my orgasm approached, and I felt a slight twinge of regret. However, I felt a soothing feeling wash over me as Aimee’s and Mary’s presence stimulated something within me.

My cock started to spurt and I pumped a couple of jets of semen into Debbie’s sopping quim. At the same time, Debbie’s nerve endings, which had been set on overload, kicked in furiously and her cries were only slightly muffled by Mary’s mouth, since she was now kissing Debbie.

The resulting wave of pleasure within Debbie was shared by each of her spouses. The moment seemed to last forever as our minds tried to comprehend the amount of pure joy that we were sharing.

Debbie’s body started to slump as if every muscle in her body had simultaneously relaxed. This changed the configuration of our bodies, and Aimee rolled to my side as Debbie collapsed on top of me. Despite the fact that my dick was only slightly erect, I was still inside Debbie.

We continued to love one another, occasionally caressing each other to add a bit of tactile sensation to the mix, as we lay in bed at the positions we ended up in, until one by one, all my wives fell asleep.

* * *

I laid in bed, surrounded by my three wives. I thought about recent events.

I knew that this particular evening will stand out forever in my memory. For the first time since Aimee’s “wedding,” there were no undercurrents happening. We were now four people simply in love with one another. I can see where we had once been acting as two couples, and I can see now how wrong that had been.

I had always known intellectually that none of my wives were more important than the other, but I had been remiss in making it clear to Mary and Debbie. Only Aimee had known it, but that was only because she was smart at that sort of thing, but even Aimee needed to hear me tell her that I love her, as Mary pointed out to me.

When I had seen Aimee’s ability and its similarity to mine, it had been a tremendous release for me. I had originally thought that my capability made me a freak, but Aimee had it too, even if she didn’t have it to the extent that I had it. There was no way that I could ever consider Aimee a freak.

At first, I was concerned that bringing Aimee into our relationship might change her in some subtle way. I was now grateful that it hadn’t been the case. After our “marriage,” I focused a lot on Aimee in order to keep confirming to myself that she did have the ability and I therefore wasn’t such an oddity. The problem that I hadn’t seen was that I had focused on her too much and that was felt as a subtle rejection to my two other wives.

Even though I can read their minds at will, I don’t do so unless the girls know that I’m doing it. Despite the fact that I can see their thoughts, I was still a neophyte at reading their minds. Unless you look deeply under the surface and know exactly what you are looking for, it’s easy to miss the minor resentments, and if they aren’t found and dealt with soon, they can grow to full bitterness and, even worse, maybe even hate.

I am quite lucky to have Aimee as a pressure valve. Before the situation between Mary and me became insufferable, she forced me to deal with the problem. In doing so, I discovered something fundamental that we probably might have taken me much longer to discover.

All of my wives were important to me, and each of them had a special place in my heart.

I loved Mary, pure and simple. If I had to choose a single person to live with forever, forsaking my other two wives, it would be a difficult decision, but the one I would choose would have to be Mary. I had thought long and hard about this during the twenty-four hours or so that I spent alone with Mary.

Why Mary? First, we had a lot in common but what we had in common were things we actually liked about ourselves. I’ve seen spouses that shared a particular trait, and most of the time, it was that very trait that each one hated about the other. That wasn’t the case with Mary and me.

I can spend twenty-four hours simply loving Mary, and know that it would be the most comforting day of my life—I had already just done so. Mary filled the warm center of my being, and I cannot imagine how I ever lived my life without her. I know for a fact that this particular feeling is mutual: she gave up her career in the military and visited me just about every day for twelve years while I appeared to be dead to the world. We were both committed totally to one another. Aimee’s reminding me of Mary being willing to walk into the dragon’s den for me was quite accurate.

That didn’t mean that I loved either Debbie or Aimee any less than Mary.

My second wife, Debbie, had a love of life and a sense of adventure that I truly treasured. She was very enthusiastic in bed, and loved to experiment. I know that her sexual relationship with Mary would never have happened if Debbie hadn’t initiated it. Thinking about it, I realized that Debbie was enthusiastic in just about anything that I had seen her do. Her vivacity was infectious and her fieriness was usually enough to pull me out of any bad mood. Just knowing that Debbie was around was enough to bring a very satisfied smile on my face.

That is not to say that Debbie doesn’t know sadness. You can see it in her eyes and even actually feel it when she is reminded of her father. I don’t know if I could ever occupy that spot in her heart, but I knew that I would spend a lifetime trying to make the rest of her life happy.

I also saw sadness in Debbie’s eyes when she left the room the previous day at Aimee’s orders. Whether Aimee’s threat to leave me forever was was empty or not, it had definitely affected Debbie, and I know for a fact that Aimee knew it as well. I can only imagine that Aimee tried her level best to try to make Debbie as happy as she could be during the time that they had left Mary and me alone. Despite whatever Aimee had done, I still noticed a dullness in Debbie’s eyes when I first saw her at the Watergate, before she noticed Mary and me. Her expression did turn to one of joy when she saw how happy the two of us were. It was as if her happiness depended on all of our happiness.

What, then, can I say about Aimee? She’s easily one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, especially when dealing with people. Deep down, she’s a submissive inside, and that appeals to some dark part of me in a very naughty way, but that submissiveness didn’t define her personality. She didn’t live to serve any person as a Master, despite her continuously calling me that. Instead, I could see now that her loyalties were to our family, which seems to be the main focus of her life now. If our relationship starts heading off-track, it’s Aimee that spots it and takes the initiative to correct it. Her methods aren’t conventional, but her actions achieve results. I realize now that my relationship with Mary and Debbie could not have succeeded without Aimee being a part of it as well.

It was quite true that I was the luckiest man in the world. When I came out of my coma, I initially felt resentful that I had lost twelve years of my life that I would never be able to regain. I’m not one to cry over spilled milk, though, and having three wonderful wives that I had no hesitation in devoting the rest of my life has easily compensated for that loss. It was as if I was living each new day at least three times more than any other person in the world.

The only thing that remained was that we were still being pursued. Mary’s suggestion to turn the tables on the people tracking us was a very courageous one, and I hoped we would be able to succeed. Aimee’s investigator, this Mr. Voder, might be the factor that might tilt the balance in our favor.

Utilizing Mr. Voder, though, came at a risk. Such people like him will only support you if they truly think your cause is just. We would need to convince him, and to do so, we may have to intentionally expose ourselves to somebody outside our family for the first time. It was not a comforting thought, especially when every ounce of your being screams at you to keep our abilities secret.

I knew that I would need to have a family conference the next day. I had to share with Aimee and Debbie the discovery that Mary and I had made, and we needed to have a workable plan to start living our own lives without fear of harassment from anything or anybody.

Having made that decision, I felt sleep descend upon me. The last conscious thought I had did not came from my own mind.

“I will love you forever, my beloved master.”