The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Dream State

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


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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 6—“I could stay with you, for a while, maybe longer, if I do...”

I didn’t know what to expect when Mary led me into her bedroom. In the past twenty-four hours, our lovemaking went from passionate to orgiastic as she was joined by Debbie.

However, her offer to “just cuddle” was just what the master, er... doctor, ordered.

So, cuddle we did.

We didn’t even take off our clothes. We just lay on her bed, holding each other, not saying a word, but having everything known between us.

Then, somehow...

I opened my eyes, and I found, to my initial surprise, that I was hugging Aimee, and not Mary. Then I found out the reason for my surprise. I wasn’t looking at her from my own point of view, but that of Debbie.

Aimee wasn’t crying anymore. She was looking at me—well, Debbie—very expectantly.

“Aimee,” I called softly with Debbie’s voice.

“Yes, Jim?” Aimee answered. Somehow, her mystic powers knew that she was talking to me, even though it was with Debbie’s voice.

“I... I can’t... enslave you. It isn’t be right,” I told her.

“A part of me understands, Jim,” Aimee replied. “At the same time, another part of me feels rejected.”

I sighed. “I’m not rejecting you, but I need to understand this power before I can force myself upon anybody else. You certainly should appreciate that.”

“I understand what you are going through, but only intellectually. Emotionally, I find you are a very compelling person. There is a void that I had never known before I met you, Jim, and it seems that only you can fill it now.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“The same way that I know it is you talking to me and not Debbie, even though it is her voice that I am hearing,” Aimee explained.

I said nothing in response. I needed to think things through. Suddenly, I was aware of Debbie’s presence. Well, of course she’d be present in her own mind, but up until this point, it had not occurred to me.

Debbie thought at me, “Jim, dear, Aimee will be fine. She knows that you will not take me from her. She knows that you haven’t fully rejected her... you’ll give it a lot of thought, and within time, you will grant her wish.”

I understood what Debbie was “saying,” but I didn’t respond. It was just like Aimee’s description of understanding intellectually, but not emotionally.

Debbie continued. “I share your thoughts... even now, with you somehow inside my head. I know you desire Aimee, and yet I feel no jealousy at all, nor do I feel any about your relationship with Mary. There seems to be enough of you to go around.”

“Debbie,” I thought to her. “I just need to know one thing...”

Debbie read my mind. “No. Aimee and I don’t have any relationship with each other than being very close friends and our business relationship. Nothing sexual. Up until today, I had never even considered being with another woman.”

This surprised me. I had figured from her antics in the bathroom earlier with Mary that Debbie had had some experience in loving another woman.

Again, Debbie had followed my thoughts. “I believe that the bathroom was the first time for either of us. We were sort of aware that you were near, but it was more like a sharing between the two of us.”

Then, the strangest feeling surprised me. Debbie was blushing, and I was feeling it.

I didn’t want to embarrass Debbie any more, so I left her.

* * *

Mary was still hugging me. Wow, how much I loved both of them!

Then it hit me. Aimee had told me that both Mary and Debbie loved me. How does one react to that?

My mind was on overload. I had had more sex in the past couple of days than I had in any week during my previous life.

Now, don’t think that I’m an unlovable oaf, but to tell you the truth, I had never had a relationship where I could truly state that I was in love with somebody else. How does one react now that there you are in love with two people, with a third claims that she’s in love with you, and doesn’t mind the other two?

Even more worrisome: how does one deal with the fact that Mary and Debbie, who love me, and who I loved, tell me that they are my slaves?

I knew that I couldn’t handle this alone. Debbie and Mary didn’t seem to need to deal with this—they simply declared their enslavement to me, and left everything to me. Not that I disliked them for that; I somehow knew that it really wasn’t their fault.

The big wild card in this whole situation was Aimee. Unlike Mary or Debbie, she knew what was going on... seemingly even before the entire situation and all of its nuances were even known to me. Debbie had said she had a psychic quality about her, but this whole thing was starting to spook me out.

I will be the first to admit that as an adolescent, I had fantasies where one woman (or a whole bunch of them) were my slaves... who lived to cater to every one of my whims. Nevertheless, this was reality. I seemed to have acquired two slaves, and the future looked like there were more people that would want to be willing join my harem. The whole situation was fucking ludicrous. I mean, I was just adjusting to myself being twelve years older than I had remembered myself, and now I have a harem?

Mary, as I said, was still hugging me. She seemed to be attuned to my deepest thoughts and knew that I didn’t want a stiff banging, but just some time to think things over. Still, I was masculine enough to appreciate the warmth of Mary’s body next to mine, even feeling Mary’s erect nipples poking into my side.

Despite the fact that it was early afternoon, I fell asleep. For once, thankfully, I didn’t go outside of my mind to capture a slave. I guess my body needed the rest. It’s one of the few times since I woke up from the coma that I don’t think that I dreamt... at least, if I did, I have no recollection of it.

I woke up about 3 AM, and found Mary still holding me.

Life was wonderful. I drifted back to an uneventful and blissfully quiet sleep.

* * *

I woke up around 9:30 in the morning, expecting Mary to still be in bed with me.

She wasn’t.

Then I did something that told me that something had changed. I felt around for her... with my mind. She wasn’t in the apartment, nor was she in Debbie’s unoccupied apartment. In fact, neither Mary nor Debbie were in the entire building.

Without thinking about what I was doing, I managed to make contact with Mary. She was in a bank, and I realized after a few seconds that she was at work.

Mary wasn’t working, however. I heard her boss telling her that he was sorry to see her go, but that she looked very happy and he wished the best for her.

Mary? Quitting her job? What was going on? Was she leaving me?

Debbie was nearby. I could feel her presence pretty close to where Mary was. I made a connection to her, and then knew that Aimee was with Debbie.

Mary soon met up with Debbie and Aimee, and they went shopping. I distinctly heard Debbie mention the word “wardrobe.”

I broke off the connection, and thought about this ability to reach either Mary or Debbie via some mind link. It was weird. It was unbelievable, and it was totally fucking true.

I considered the consequences. I could possibly enslave every woman on this planet. I would be very powerful.

I would also be a rather obvious target to any male who got wind of this ability.

This wasn’t something to advertise, obviously. My instinct to back off on this power and not enslave Aimee seemed more and more a good idea as I thought of these things. I’m sorry, Aimee... you will just have to wait.

I knew that I had to control this... this power. I hadn’t intended to ensnare Mary, and up until I saw Debbie in my dreams, I hadn’t even considered the possibility of enslaving anybody else.

Could I enslave males, or was my “power” just limited to females? I knew there was one way to find out, but the idea was easily rejected. I had found the idea of females being enslaved to me to be, let’s say “distasteful.” I certainly didn’t want any male slaves... especially sexual slaves.

Yep. When it comes down to it, I guess I’m your typical male chauvinistic pig. I was determined that if that was the case, I was going to be one M.C.P. that would be careful from now on.

* * *

Mary’s telephone rang, and I instinctively answered it, naturally assuming it to be Mary wishing to talk to me.

It wasn’t Mary. Instead, it was some secretary from Veteran’s Affairs. She asked if I was Captain James Montgomery, and said that she had a few routine questions to ask me about my disability.

The questions she asked were sort of deja-vu, since I had gone over them with some people when I was still in the hospital.

A feeling of uneasiness grew over me while the secretary asked me the questions, even though they seemed standard.

Then it hit me. How did anybody know that I was staying at Mary’s?

In the middle of a question, I asked the secretary how she got this number.

There was a pause, and she said, “This is the number we have on file for you. Isn’t this the correct telephone number?”

“Um... it is. I don’t recall giving this phone number out to anybody, though,” I responded. I was feeling quite spooked.

“Let me check, Captain Montgomery,” the lady said. There was another pause, and she said, “It says here on your file that you are staying with a Lieutenant Cadley.”

How the fuck did VA know that? I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stick out. What the fuck was going on? Was I being followed? I had heard horror stories about the Intelligence agencies back when I was in the service, and Gordon Liddy was a recent memory from before I was in my coma.

“Well,” I said when I heard the lady pause. “I am over here right now, but I’ve rented an apartment elsewhere. Mary... Lieutenant Cadley has a small apartment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Captain,” the lady said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply... oh! OH! No... that wouldn’t do at all! I’m really very sorry. Can you give me a telephone number where you would prefer to be called?”

The lady seemed to be a bit nonplussed, apparently at what she figured to be some uneasiness about Mary’s reputation.

I told the lady that I hadn’t gotten a telephone installed yet, but that I would call her back in a few days when I got one. She gave me her number, and I rummaged through Mary’s apartment looking for a pencil and paper to write it down. Doing that, I put the paper into my wallet.

The lady hung up, and I mulled about how people could have assumed that I’d be staying at Mary’s. I had thought that our personal relationship had not been something that would have been on any official records.

I idly wondered what else were on those records, and who would be interested in them.

Another idle thought crept in: could somebody be interested in me, Captain James Montgomery... and... quite possibly... this power that I seem to have over Mary and Debbie?

* * *

I found myself brooding about my power and that disturbing phone call from VA. It consumed my entire thought process. I couldn’t think of anything else.

In the late afternoon, there was a soft knock on the door. I knew immediately that it wasn’t Debbie or Mary... I knew that I would have felt them before they got that close to me.

It had to be Aimee.

It better not be somebody from the VA!

It was Aimee.

I opened the door, and found Aimee there with a pizza box in her hands. “Please let me in, Jim.”

I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, and the pizza smelled wonderful.

I smiled at her, and beckoned her into Mary’s apartment.

Aimee smiled back at me and came in. She walked past me and placed the box on the dining table.

“Well, Jim... I can imagine that you have a lot on your mind right now.”

“Aimee, you have a gift for understatement,” I said, giving her a wan smile.

Aimee gave me a pretty smile, and answered, “You seem to have an interesting gift as well.”

I chuckled at her comment, and continued to look at her.

After about a minute, Aimee said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about your gift, too. I think I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

“As long as you realize that I will not enslave you... not until I get a handle on this... this...’gift.’”

There was a bit of a flash of disappointment in Aimee’s face, but it changed into a concerned look. “May I help you, Jim?” she asked.

“What do you intend to do?” I asked, suspiciously.

“Why don’t we just talk?” she asked.

Aimee spent the next hour or so explaining what she had been taught about those people that invade the dreams of the living.

* * *

When Aimee had been younger, she had believed those things, but as she grew older, part of her considered the old tales as myths, although she still remembered the stories that her Aunt told her quite vividly.

Aimee, as I said, had an unusual gift of her own: that of insight into other people. She told me that she used her gift to ensure that the people she was around were “good” people.

Aimee’s mother worked hard to help Aimee pay her tuition to a collage where Aimee got her M.B.A.

The first person Aimee worked for out of college was James Malen, who was Debbie’s father. Aimee knew instinctively when she met him that James was a good person. Aimee enjoyed working for him. Aimee knew that her boss really loved his daughter, and that love for his daughter, as well as his grief over his dead wife, was what drove him in his work.

Even with such a powerful drive behind him, James was an exception on Wall Street—he wasn’t one to get ahead by screwing over his competition. In fact, James’ unselfishness was legendary in the financial markets. As a result, Malen Associates had a very large and contented clientele.

James had a partner, Charles Penet. Aimee described him as a good person, also. However, Charles didn’t completely share James’ graciousness with competitors. James had known that, which is why his interest in the firm went straight to Debbie rather than his partner.

Before James’ doomed flight, Aimee had a premonition that something unfortunate would happen to her boss. She knew that James seemed to always view her premonitions with a wry amusement, but he said that he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he listened to her.

Aimee knew she couldn’t talk him out of visiting Debbie for her moment of triumph, so she tried to change his reservations to a different flight. His private jet was unavailable for one reason or another. At the last minute, however, James’ alternate flight got canceled, and he rescheduled himself back onto the very flight that Aimee had avoided.

Aimee’s thoughts about the death of her boss were mixed. She believed in an afterlife, and knew that somebody like James would be well served in it. However, she felt bad for his daughter, who she hadn’t met until after James passed away.

Despite working for James for a short period of time, she knew just about every aspect of his financial life, and she did everything she could to help transfer all of his personal assets to his daughter, and helped Debbie through the lengthy probate process. Money would never repay Debbie for the loss of her father, but it might help her get ahead in the world.

When Aimee finally met Debbie in person, she found that Debbie, like her father, was also a good person. The two girls got along immediately when they met, and Aimee easily agreed when Debbie asked for her to be her personal financial manager. Aimee could feel Debbie’s sadness whenever she thought about her father, and Aimee’s heart went out to her.

If Debbie’s father had one failing, it was his relentless pursuit of success. James had acquired a lot of real estate properties... not only in the U.S., but around the world. He had acquired more money than he would ever be able to spend.

Aimee knew that Debbie didn’t have that drive. Debbie, instead, was taking a few years off to enjoy herself. They had already visited places in Texas and Utah before heading for California.

Aimee had a premonition about her visit to California—not a bad one, but that something momentous would happen. Debbie hadn’t known Aimee very long, and mostly saw Aimee’s mystic side with amusement, like her father, and didn’t put much stock in them.

I had heard a lot of this story from Debbie, but hearing it from Aimee’s point of view was a bit educational.

* * *

“So, you have an a ability to know that a person is ‘good’ deep down,” I said to Aimee, interrupting her story. “Since you continue to tell me that I have this quality, too, that should make me feel better?”

“No, Jim. You don’t understand,” Aimee said, frowning.

I sighed, wondering where Aimee was going.

“Jim, I have always had some sort of insight. My aunt called it a spiritual gift. However, my insights were never really specific, and they were usually tied to emotions. All I could usually get out of them would be that something is good or bad, or that something good or bad is about to happen.”

“Yes. You explained that,” I said, still confused.

“Because it was just feelings, even I didn’t put too much faith in them. I was careful, like my attempt to reschedule Debbie’s father’s flight, but that was just being cautious. Even after her father died, I didn’t get upset at myself for not having prevented it...”

Aimee paused, and I let her continue. She took a deep breath, and then looked deeply into my eyes. “Then yesterday happened.”

I waited for Aimee to continue, but she didn’t this time. “What happened yesterday?” I asked.

Aimee took another breath, getting a little exasperated at my failure to comprehend. “You happened. First, I heard from Debbie, and immediately, I know that something profound had changed in her. Something good, but very profound.”

“OK,” I said. I could see that.

“Then I met Mary a little bit later, and I knew the same thing had happened to her that had happened to Debbie. So I remembered that Debbie said that she met you, and I checked you out.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I knew that when you mentioned my military rank.”

“I checked you out. It isn’t easy, since the military doesn’t like to give out personal records, but information is kept on computers, and it isn’t difficult to get information out of those computers when you know what you are doing.”

“Wait... you broke into the service’s computers?” I asked, incredulously.

“No, not at all,” Aimee assured me. “First, it was easy for me to track down Mary, since she was renting an apartment from Malen Associates. From there, I found out she had been in the military, and she had a few jobs locally. There were notations on some of her records that she visited a hospital patient quite regularly. Hearing that, I knew that you had to be that patient... I could feel it.”

“Nowadays, there are many other places that have access to records. For instance, the hospital where you were staying. There were a few insurance companies, and a couple of medical schools who were monitoring your condition due to its unique nature. That sort of thing.”

“You didn’t have time to do all that!” I protested.

“I actually did. Malen Associates had clients in the insurance industry and in other places. It wasn’t difficult to pull a few strings to find out the major parts of your story.”

“How can that be? I don’t even know the entire story!” I said, half to myself.

“I can imagine,” Aimee said. The way she looked at me, I knew that she could tell how I felt.

There was an awkward pause for a few minutes when neither of us said anything.

Finally, Aimee broke the pause. “Jim, I know that you were inside Debbie’s head yesterday when we were together.”

I nodded; I had already known that she knew.

“I had been crying, as you know. It’s obvious to me that you don’t know why I was crying,” she said.

I could see her eyes moisten again. “I know. Because I refused to make you my slave,” I said, a bit exasperated about having to go into that again.

“You are wrong!” she said vehemently.


“Yes. I do want you to make me yours, but that wasn’t why I was crying.”

I never really understood females, despite having been in the heads of two of them. Aimee was making this very obvious to me. I said nothing, allowing Aimee to continue.

“I was crying... because I was so happy for Debbie. Debbie still misses her father, but she now has found love. True love. The kind that only comes along once in a lifetime. When Debbie feels emotions, it’s like I can feel them as well. I was so happy for her.”

I said nothing, but I knew instinctively that what Aimee said was not completely true. What happened to Debbie also happened to Mary. If you think about it, it also happened to me. We all found each other. So much for “once in a lifetime.”

Aimee saw me shaking my head in disagreement. “Maybe the term ‘once in a lifetime’ isn’t the right one, but it’s definitely true love. Soft, giving, and, most of all, final. There’s a piece of me that feels so happy for Debbie for having experienced it. There’s a piece of me that is a little...”

Aimee paused, and for the first time, cast her eyes down at her feet. “A little... jealous.”

I reached out and pulled Aimee’s face back and looked into her eyes. “Aimee, I am still not one hundred percent sure what is happening or has happened to me. I do know that this is unusual, and I need to come to terms with it. You can be a big part of helping me to understand. However, in order for me to do that, I really want you as you are. Not as somebody that I happened to enslave somehow.”

“I understand, Jim,” she assured me. “As I said before, intellectually, I understand you, and I may even agree with you, but emotionally...”

“I know that your emotions are important, Aimee. I promise to keep them in mind. OK?”

Something in her eyes sparkled. The she gave me a little smile. “I believe you. I also believe that you will do what you think is the right thing. That is really the best that one could hope for. You are a good person, and what you think is the right thing will be the right thing.”

Her smile widened. “So, why don’t you tell me how this whole thing got started?”

I started my story with my evening walk oh so long ago, through my experiences in the hospital—including the dreams—and ended with the events up to the current day. I included things from Mary’s description to Debbie earlier as well.

Aimee listened in rapt attention, occasionally asking questions when I started to gloss over things, or when I started getting off the subject. Thankfully, she didn’t have me describe my sexual encounters over the last couple of days in any detail, but it was obvious that she figured out that part of the “enslavement” was sexual.

After I had brought Aimee up to date, she sat in silence for about ten minutes. We shared the silence together.

“Although what you describe sounds remarkably like the stories I heard as a child, the way you describe what happened seems so real,” Aimee finally said.

“Well, it IS real,” I said, a bit weirded out that Aimee seemed to be questioning my truthfulness.

“No, Jim. I mean, like something that could happen to anybody.”

“Anybody, you mean, that happened to be hit by a car and was in a coma for a dozen years,” I said, a bit sarcastically.

“What I mean, silly, is that your mind has managed to tap into something... something real... something strange.”

“Yes. That much is obvious even to me,” I agreed.

“You never had any psychic episodes before your accident? Even as a kid? Premonitions, perhaps?”

I thought about this for a moment. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think so. I mean, some things I thought about came to happen, but that happens to everybody... coincidences. Certainly nothing on the scale of what is happening now.”

“What kind of coincidences?” asked Aimee, interested.

“Oh, silly things. I’d think of somebody, and sometimes they would call at that very moment. Not always, though. Sometimes, it was somebody else that would call. Sometimes, the phone just wouldn’t ring. Coincidences.”

Aimee nodded. “Perhaps. Let’s say for the moment that you never had any kind of psychic episodes before you met Mary.”


“So, something happened either as a result of the accident when you were hit by Mary, or during your treatment,” Aimee said.

I considered this. Then I remembered the weird phone call. What if they performed some sort of mind experiments on me while I was in a coma? What if I was being monitored now that I had come out? I mean, the Army did conduct tests during the sixties where they gave people LSD...

Aimee seemed to sense that I was running through possibilities in my mind. She remained quiet and didn’t say anything, allowing me to think.

I wondered if I should tell Aimee about that phone call from the VA. After thinking it over, I decided that I was getting too paranoid. I decided that if anything else like that happened again, it might be something that I might share with Aimee to get her opinions.

I also had an idea that maybe nobody had been paying attention to me before, but somebody might have suddenly gotten an interest in me when Aimee compiled her quick dossier on me. It was a thought, anyway. Best not to upset Aimee by telling her that she might have given something away inadvertently. Only time would tell.

“Jim?” Aimee asked.


“I think things will start to settle down,” Aimee said, quietly. “It’s been a hectic few days for you. Your mind doesn’t know how to handle the new sensations and feelings. Just go with the flow, and do what you think is right.”

“All right.”

“Remember how you said it took a while after you opened your eyes after to came out of your coma that you could keep them open due to the intense brightness?” Aimee asked.

“Yes,” I said, not sure where Aimee was heading.

“Your might may be doing the same thing right now. It’s having problems coping with a concept that it never considered before. Don’t get too alarmed. It should get accustomed to the brightness soon.”

* * *

When Mary and Debbie came back from their shopping spree, they showed little surprise that Aimee was with me. They took one look at her and then at each other and finally smiled at me.

I thought it was strange that the girls didn’t have any packages, since I had remembered that they were doing something about Mary’s wardrobe before. “So, where have you girls been all day?” I asked.

“Surely, you’d know,” Mary said, rolling her eyes.

Debbie smiled at me as I started to look sheepish, a bit embarrassed that I had “eavesdropped” on them earlier when I wanted to know where they were.

We talked about a lot of things, and I was starting to feel once again a bit like Rip Van Winkle. A lot of stuff happened while I was out. Video tapes! Compact discs! I was going to have to learn quite a lot of things in order to fit in to the present.

I glanced at Debbie, and knew instinctively that she had something on her mind. “Are you alright, Debbie?” I asked.

“Yeah... I was just thinking...” she said, hesitantly.


Debbie didn’t respond. Instead, Aimee seemed to pick up on her boss’ state of mind. “I think that Debbie is a bit confused about what she is to do now, Jim.”

I looked at Debbie, and she was nodding in agreement. “What do you mean?”

“My original plans had me leaving in a day or two,” Debbie explained. “I wanted to see all my father’s properties, and there is one special one that Aimee and I had fixed up through a proxy in Maui.”

“Maui... as in Hawaii?” I asked, stupidly.

“Yes,” Aimee explained. “James purchased a place there. It was originally supposed to be a bed and breakfast... a small hotel... but the people there were very opposed to too many tourists in southern Maui. The original builders went out of business. Debbie’s father promised them when he purchased the property that it would never be used commercially, although he had told them he planned that the place might be just for a family or some such thing.”

“There’s a place in Hawaii that doesn’t like tourists?” I asked, sarcastically.

Aimee looked at me seriously. “Actually, there’s a native movement going on there. A lot of us were upset that only a few of the older people actually speak the Hawaiian language, and there is a movement to get back to our roots. We don’t hate tourists, Jim. They bring in a lot of money. We just cannot have the place turn into another Las Vegas or Hollywood. Hawaii needs its history.”

I had forgotten that Aimee had told me that she was part Hawaiian. She spoke with such emotion, however, that I knew that this was important to her... especially the way she had personalized her response. I decided to tread away from that subject.

“What I meant was...” I said.

“I’m sorry, Jim. It’s easy to forget that you haven’t really been around for a long time. Hawaii is better than it was back when you remember it, but we have a long way to go. Just don’t go around saying ‘Book ‘em, Dan-O!’”

I laughed. “Anyway, about this place?” I said, trying to get back on subject.

Debbie stepped in. “Aimee is very passionate about the place. She found an agent in Maui that she gave the task of making the place our ‘little grass shack’ in Hawaii.” Debbie grinned at me.

“The little grass shack in Ke-ah-kah... something?” I said, recognizing the song from an old Hawaiian album my parents had years ago.

“Kealakekua, Hawaii. Actually, Kealakekua is on the big island. Makena is on Maui,” Aimee said, apparently more familiar with that song that anybody else in the room, including me. Mary, in particular, looked at us in confusion.

“One day, I’ll have to learn how to pronounce that name,” I said, half aloud, and half to myself.

Aimee’s face brightened up as she smiled at me. “Don’t worry about it, Jim. You’ll have lots of time to learn. Anyway, the work on the ‘shack,’ as Debbie calls it, was completed a few weeks ago. We had plans to go there once we were done in California.”

It was Debbie’s turn to turn serious. “That’s right. Anyway, now I’m torn... I really want to see this place that Aimee has told me all about... and there’s another part of me that wants to stay here for the rest of my life and be with you.”

Oh, shit, I thought. Here we go again. Then something struck me, and for the first time, I got angry. “Stop it, Debbie!” I said, sternly.

Debbie looked as if she had been struck. “Huh?” she said, confused.

“I know, and you know, that Mary has quit her job at the bank,” I said.

Debbie looked a bit worried and said, “But...”

“But, nothing. The only reason why a sensible girl like Mary would do something like that is that she has another source of income. Right?” I looked sternly at Mary.

“Yes, Jim,” Mary said quietly.

Aimee looked at me with a concerned look on her face, but said nothing.

“Mary doesn’t have any special stash of money... I’d know about it. So the only thing left is that you’ve talked her into going with you. Right?” I directed this last question to Debbie.

“I thought...” Debbie started to protest. She was at the verge of tears. Still, Aimee said nothing.

“You have wonderful intentions, Debbie, but you’ll find that you’ll get a lot further with me if you don’t try to trick me into doing something. Wouldn’t it have been easier if you just asked me if Mary and I could come with you?”

Debbie cast her eyes on the floor. “Well, I was afraid...”

She paused, and I intended to let her finish.

After about half a minute, she said, “I was afraid that you’d say ‘no.’ Then I’d have a problem, because the place means a lot to Aimee and me.”

I couldn’t stay angry at Debbie. “Debbie, you know that I would never hurt you. I’ve even said so directly to Aimee. You know that I can get into your mind... and that requires implicit trust.”

“I... I know,” Debbie sniffed.

I felt like a shit heel for doing this to Debbie, but she had been trying to manipulate me into asking to come with her, instead of simply asking me herself.

I looked at Aimee, who was still looking at me, although she had a bit of a smile on her face.

I took a deep breath and said, “Debbie, I’d love to go with you to your place there. I’m pretty certain that Mary has already agreed. Right, Mary?”

Mary just nodded her head.

“Now kiss me, Debbie, and promise me that if you ever have any concerns or requests... or anything else on your mind... to let me know as soon as possible. I don’t like being manipulated,” I said.

“Oh, Jim. I’m so sorry! I promise!” Debbie said, her sniffles turning into real tears, but no longer tears of sadness. She embraced me and we kissed.

I opened my eyes, and Aimee was looking at Mary with a grin on her face. I knew that something had gone on inside Aimee, and I was determined to find out what. Did I just pass another sort of test with Aimee?

After Debbie and I broke our kiss, Aimee turned to Mary and said, “Mary, why don’t you and Debbie go back to Debbie’s apartment and show us what you got at the stores?”

Mary grinned wide, and left with Debbie.

Aimee waited until the pair were gone and said, “You made me proud, Jim.”

“I passed some sort of test?” I asked, finding myself put off once more by Aimee.

“No, Jim. Well, yes. You did ‘pass a test,’ but that wasn’t what I was talking about?”

“Huh?” I asked.

“Debbie has always been a little bit... well, not just a little bit... a pretty manipulative person. This is the first time that I have seen somebody feel confident enough in themselves that they would actually call her to task on it,” she explained.

“Oh?” I asked.

“I think that you will be a wonderful influence on Debbie, Jim!” Aimee said.

Then she reached her hands up and drew me to herself, planting a soulful kiss on my lips.

I could get used to having Aimee around, I thought to myself.

* * *

Mary and Debbie had come back from Debbie’s apartment with a load of packages.

“What’s this? A long dress?” I asked.

Debbie smiled. “It’s called a ‘muumuu,’” she said. “It’s a traditional Hawaiian dress. I think the style of this one is called ‘Hawaiian Sky,’”

The “muumuu” was dark blue with light blue flowers arranged in lines down the dress. It looked as gaudy as those old Hawaiian shirts that the hippies used to wear in the sixties.

Thinking about hippies made me once again think about the amount of time that I had missed. I started feeling a bit lost.

Aimee must have noticed this, and said to Mary, “Try it on. I bet this would look just wonderful on you!”

Mary started to walk to her bedroom, and then stopped. She shrugged, and then simply undressed in the living room.

This had the effect of taking my mind off of feeling sorry for myself.

I was surprised when Mary pulled off her panties and bra, and then wriggled into her muumuu.

“No underwear?” I finally asked.

“Oh, you old fogey!” chided Mary, pleased at the attention that she was receiving.

The dress fit loosely on Mary, but I think that was how the dress was intended to be worn.

“Muumuus were invented when the missionaries visited the islands in the early 1800s,” Aimee explained. “Up until then, the island girls simply tied material around their waists. Naked breasts embarrassed the missionaries, obviously. In response, our people created these long flowing dresses from cotton and silk and other materials that the missionaries brought with them. We made them colorful and cheerful—imparting our culture, as it were. From then on, these have been sort of our official uniforms.” Aimee sounded very much like a tour guide.

I listened to Aimee, but my eyes were on Mary. “I see,” I said, not turning my attention away from Mary. Despite the fact that Mary was all covered up, the image of her in that dress was very erotic to me.

“I see Jim approves,” said Debbie.

I was a little embarrassed, but everybody smiled, so I did as well.

“What else?” I asked. “More of the same?”

Debbie and Mary pulled out about five more muumuus. All of them with floral prints on bright colored cloth.

Without any hesitation, Debbie pulled off her clothes and chose a burgundy muumuu to wear.

I could see how the style was popular. The dresses made Debbie and Mary look lovely, and I could see how the style would make any woman... even larger ones... look beautiful.

Mary gasped and looked behind me.

Startled, I turned, and saw that Aimee had just pulled on a dark purple muumuu. I saw her clothes... including her underwear... in a neat pile next to her.

One would have thought that Aimee, being a few inches shorter than Mary and Debbie, wouldn’t have fit as nice into her dress. One would be wrong. It fit her loosely as the others fit Mary and Debbie. Somehow, though, with Aimee’s Polynesian looks, it actually seemed more natural on her.

“Wow,” I said, partially from how much Aimee’s looks changed when she wore the muumuu, and the fact that I had noticed that underneath that muumuu was... just Aimee!

“Flatterer!” Aimee chided, although I could see that she was appreciative of the compliment.

I heard a bag rustle behind me, and turned around to see Mary rooting through another bag. “Here, Jim. You can dress like a Hawaiian, too!”

She handed me a dark blue rayon shirt whose pattern almost exactly matched that on Mary’s muumuu.

I looked at doubtfully. “I don’t think that this will go with dungarees,” I said.

Debbie reached into another bag and pulled out a white pair of denim trousers. “They will, now!” she said, smiling.

It was apparent that Debbie and Mary expected me to change right then and there, but I was a little hesitant about undressing in front of Aimee.

Aimee must have sensed this, and in a quiet voice, she excused herself to go to the bathroom.

I quickly got undressed, but unlike the girls, I kept my boxers on.

Debbie, however, noticed something obvious. “Look, Mary. It appears that Jim REALLY likes our dresses! Or... perhaps it was Aimee’s...”

I felt my embarrassment return, and Mary said, “Yup, I think he got that when he saw what Aimee was wearing. Or, should I say, what she was not wearing?”

I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. Debbie moved over to me and said, “Oh, you dear, dear, man. We’re not jealous!” She hugged me, and Mary came over and joined us in a three-way hug.

I didn’t know how long Aimee would be gone, and I wanted to get dressed, but the two girls wouldn’t release me.

I resigned myself to the clutches of the girls, and continued hugging and kissing them both. The feel of their warm bodies beneath their lovely outfits was easy to get lost in.

I was a little surprised a minute or two later, when Debbie turned slightly and said, “Join us, Aimee!”

I tried to push away from the two girls, but felt Aimee approach me from behind, hugging me with her arms. I turned, and saw Aimee smiling, her eyes telling me that everything was alright.

I relaxed and enjoyed the hugging from the three women.

Finally, after about five minutes, I was able to escape from their clutches. “My dears, I DO want to get dressed!”

“What a fuddy duddy,” Mary said, crinkling her nose in mock anger.

* * *

Mary talked everybody into going to Peter’s for dinner.

If the owner was surprised to see me with not only Mary, but two other lovely ladies, and with all of us still dressed in our Hawaiian outfits, he disguised it well. We were seated promptly at a window overlooking the water.

Mary, Debbie, and I ordered lobster tails, and Aimee ordered the tuna steak.

I was surprised to see Aimee’s meal when she got it. It didn’t look like any type of tuna that I had ever had in my life.

“It’s Blue Fin, I think,” Aimee said when she saw my confused look. “Very much unlike the kind you get in those tiny cans!”

Mary laughed, also. Apparently, broiled tuna steak was something that had become popular while I was “out.” Once again, I started feeling like I had missed a lot of my life.

“Would you like to try some?” Aimee asked, apparently concerned by what she saw or felt in me.

“Would you mind?” I asked. I never had liked canned tuna, thinking it was so fishy. Aimee cut me a piece and fed it to me from her fork.

The taste was totally unlike any tuna I had ever had in my life. “That’s wonderful! No wonder Peter called it a specialty!”

I offered Aimee some lobster in return, and she accepted it.

My somber mood (which I started to think of as my Rip Van Winkle mood) had completely disappeared.

* * *

After the meal, we retired back to Mary’s apartment. Aimee quietly slipped away, and Mary and Debbie attacked me when she had left.

Mary unbuttoned my shirt while Debbie undid my new jeans. I saw a couple of butter stains on the shirt, and felt a bit bad that I had a shirt for only a day and it was already stained.

The girls weren’t interested in stains, and after they had me naked, they took me into the bathroom, shrugging out of their muumuus, and pushed me into the shower.

The water was warm, and I was quickly joined by Debbie, who stood in the spray, face to face with me. I heard the movement of the curtains, and Mary came in behind me. I was a bit cramped, but delightfully so.

Debbie had a bar of soap in her hands, and was rubbing her two hands on it in the warm water, working up a lather. Then she reached over my shoulder and passed it to Mary.

Debbie moved her soapy hands onto my chest, and started lathering up the hairs on my chest. Behind me, I could feel Mary doing the same thin to my back.

Then, as if they both had the same idea at the exact same time, the two girls pushed into me with their bodies, rubbing their breasts on my back and chest.

Debbie had somehow managed to get the soap again, and was starting to lather up my pubic hair. Mary was rubbing her hands on my butt, and the feeling of the four hands and four tits sliding on my body was just wonderful.

When Debbie finally ran her soapy hand on the shaft of my cock, I exploded immediately, sending gobs of semen onto her body. She continued to slide her hand on my shaft, and I continued to spurt a good three or four times.

While she was jacking me off, I took the bar of soap from her unoccupied hand, and started soaping up Debbie’s pubic hair. I felt my fingers slip along her crack, and her legs widened a little to give me better access.

I was having so much fun playing with Debbie’s cunt, that I was shocked to feel another hand moving with mine. At first, I thought that Debbie was masturbating herself, but it only took a few seconds to realize that Mary had reached around me to play with Debbie.

Debbie’s hips were moving back and forth at a frantic pace, and I could feel my fingers and those of Mary slip on either side of Debbie’s clit.

I took my free hand, and rubbed my backside where Mary had been soaping before. As I had hoped, there was still some soap there. I got my hand slippery, and turned my body toward the shower wall. Mary’s and Debbie’s breasts were now rubbing against either shoulder.

I moved my left hand toward Mary’s snatch, and she squealed when she felt my fingers enter her unexpectedly.

Her hand moved away from Debbie’s crotch, and after a few seconds, I had gotten to a really nice rhythm where both girls were gyrating on either hand. Debbie’s breaths were coming more frequently, and I could tell she was on the verge of orgasm. I directed a bit more energy toward Mary to see if I could get her to catch up.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, my instruction to both girls. Without stopping the motions of their hips, both girls kissed my ears, both of them slipping their tongues alongside my ear. This created a stereoscopic sound in my head, one that I will never forget.

Debbie was the first to come, moaning into my ear. I put a finger on either side of her clitoris, rubbing the sensitive spot furiously. I did the same to Mary, whose moans came about twenty seconds after Debbie’s.

I now had two girls moaning in my ears, and I felt their breasts continue to rub into my arms and sides. I kept up the pressure between the two girls’ legs. Debbie finally came down from her orgasm, but Mary’s was still continuing, going on for another minute.

After the two girls came, I insisted that we get cleaned up for real.

We rinsed each other off, and I occasionally tweaked either girl’s nipples.

We then toweled each other off, and retired into Mary’s soon-to-be-overworked bedroom.

Mary looked at me hungrily, and without a word, she went down on me. I watched her head bob up and down on my shaft.

I reached over to Debbie, who was watching Mary at work, and pulled her closer to me. We started French kissing as Mary continued to swallow my cock.

If you’ve never had a woman kissing you while another one is blowing you, you don’t know what you’re missing!

I liked it so much that after five minutes or so, I had the two girls switch positions.

Mary was a bit better in the oral sex department, while Debbie was the better kisser. It was just as erotic when the girls traded places, however. So much so, that I soon erupted into Debbie’s mouth.

Totally spent, I fell asleep.

I think the girls worked on each other while I slept. I really don’t know and I never asked them.

I did know that I was extremely hungry the next morning when I woke up, but then, this was becoming a habit... waking up hungry, that is...