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Message-ID: <48841asstr$1092593402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Dream State 01 (MF FF Mult fant rom cons mc Mdom oral) by JiMC
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Date: Sun, 15 Aug 2004 14:10:02 -0400
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JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

_________________________________________________________________
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<1st attachment, "DreamState-01.txt" begin>

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Copyright

    This work is copyright (c) 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 (http://storiesonline.net)
and ASSTR (http://asstr-mirror.org) 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.

[Author's note: The first two parts to this story were
written as a setup for the rest of the story.  As such, they
are trying to convey a rather unique experience and don't
convey much (or even any!) sexual debauchery.  But you really
should read them if you wish to enjoy or understand the rest
of the story.]

Title: Dream State

Author: JiMC

Version: $Revision: 1.10 $ $Date: 2004/07/28 11:34:33 $

Chapter 1--"Dream... Dream, dream, dream..."

    A good story starts at the beginning, and as such, I
guess my story starts in the mid seventies.

    The war (sorry, police action) was over, the draft had
been dismantled, more or less.  We were now working on a
completely volunteer army.  I signed up for military service
instead of going to college.

    Conventional wisdom had told us that such an army would
be full of hard-luck cases, and we'd lose the cream of the
crop that we had been getting, but it had turned out to be
mostly wrong.  Military service drew a lot of people that
were either pretty much committed to serving their country,
and also drew a lot of people from the lower classes.  The
latter was obvious when you enlisted, but it turned out that
having a patrician outlook was something that boot camp was
very good at curing.  (This wasn't my particular problem, by
the way!)

    After boot camp, some genius had decided that I would
make a good officer candidate, and I found myself almost
immediately headed for O.C.S. This was unusual, since such
candidates normally needed to have some college experience,
but I wasn't one to argue.

    Officer Candidate School was interesting if unremarkable.
It was obvious to me right at the start that the winning
attitude there was to keep on saying to yourself, "I WILL
LEAD!  I WILL LEAD!" when any situation comes up, even if it
means that people can get hurt in the process.  It requires
you to be able to assess a situation as quick as possible,
and come up with an optimal solution and be able to implement
it.  Quick thinking and ingenuity helped, but you also needed
to be careful not to challenge the hierarchy in any way
directly.

    I graduated and became a first lieutenant, which was
about the officer equivalent of a private first class in the
enlisted ranks.  I seemed to be on a fast track, however.

    I was soon promoted to Captain and was getting charge of
a new unit called the Zulu Squad.  The Colonel said that he
would give me the details of my new assignment the next
morning after I received my promotion.  There was somebody
coming down from Washington to help with my briefing.

    Of course, there was a party in the Officers' Club that
night in my honor.  The officers and non-coms in my
soon-to-be old unit were giving me a farewell.  I didn't do
much alcohol, but I felt obliged to do the standard toasts.
The party degenerated into a bunch of people gossiping
together, typical Officer's Club stuff.

    Since I was not much of a party goer, I excused myself
early, wanting to catch up on some reading in bed.  I had
first considered a game or two of billiards in the club, but
decided that the night air (without all the cigarette smoke)
was too inviting.  I walked outside, looking at the stars
playing games with the wispy clouds.  The crescent moon
showed a hazy light through the clouds off to the west.

    I was walking on the road, my mind on the stars above.
All was right in the world.

    I never knew what hit me.

* * *

    I heard the sound of voices, but couldn't see anything.
I tried to make sense of my surroundings, but revelation just
wasn't there.

    The voices were just a jumble to me, I could make out
syllables, but couldn't make any sense of them.

    I considered this, and tried to focus on the voices.  Low
voices, and some high voices.  How many were there?  Two,
definitely.  Maybe three.  Yes... that was a distinct voice.
The first one and the second one again.  Three people.

    I still couldn't understand what they were saying.  The
voices continued, and I became aware of a fourth voice.  Four
people now.

    I needed to open my eyes; if I could see, I might be able
to make sense of this.

    I noticed that I couldn't feel anything.  I tried to open
my eyes, but I couldn't figure out where they were.  Could I
speak?  No... I didn't know how!  Funny... it never seemed to
be a problem for me in the past.

    How does one talk?  Open your mouth and breathe out...
but I couldn't find my mouth!

    Oh goodness!!!  I don't think I was breathing!

    Is this what it is like to die?  Was I dying?  Was I at
my own funeral?  No!  No!  I don't think I'm dead.  Can
anybody hear me???

    The voices continued, unperturbed.  Maybe they weren't
even aware of me.  I had no way of knowing.

    After what seemed like an eternity, I came to the
realization that I was in a panic.  This couldn't possibly
help me in my situation, whatever situation it was.

    Focus, Jim.

    Jim.  I am Jim.  I remember that.  Jim is me.

    I have a mother named... (emptiness).

    OK.  Let's go back to Jim.  My name is Jim... Jim... Did
I have a last name?  I must have had one before, but it
eluded me.

    Let's stick with Jim.  My name is Jim.  I am Jim.

    Don't panic, Jim.  Things will work out if you put your
mind to it.  Focus again.

* * *

    I don't know how long I tried to calm myself down, but it
seemed difficult to just get past my own name.

    I still heard the voices, but I couldn't make out any
meaning in what people were saying.

    Focus, Jim.  Take inventory.

    1.  My name is Jim.

    2.  I can hear four people... wait... I haven't heard
        that fourth person in a while... maybe it's only
        three now.

    What else was there?  I could hear... that was a sense!
What were the other senses?

    Sight...

    Nope.  I wasn't in a real darkness, but I knew that what
I was seeing in my mind wasn't coming from my eyes.  There
was an "other-worldly" feeling toward what I was "seeing."

    Smell... Nothing there either.

    Taste?  No.

    Touch... was I feeling anything?  What was touch like?
Remember, Jim!

    OK.  I could sort of "see" something, although not with
my eyes.  I could definitely hear voices.  They definitely
had an air of actuality that my seeing sense lacked.

    What could I see in my mind?

    My mother?  A blank.  Anybody?  Another blank.

    I tried to access memories, and felt that they were
drifting just out of my reach as I attempted to get to them.
There was something definite about some part of my mind.  For
one, I knew my name was Jim.  For two, I could count.  One
and two!  One... two... three...

    Futility.

    This was so hard... so difficult.

    No!  Take charge!  This will work GOD DAMN IT!  YOUR MIND
WILL WORK, MISTER, OR YOU WILL NEVER GET OUT OF THIS!

    There was something authoritarian in that attitude.

    I tried to reflect on what had happened, and listened to
the voices.  Nothing clicked.

    Blackness.

* * *

    I woke up.

    I must have been dreaming, but I had no memory of any
dream, just the blackness.

    I was back in that void.  I still heard the three voices.
I could still see something in my mind.

    Let's see.  My name was...

    It was...

    Jim.  I am Jim.

    Good.

    I started running tests on myself.  I found that I was
getting better.

    I counted to twelve hundred when it occurred to me that I
was able to count.

    I remembered my last name.  And my mother's name.  And
her dog's name.

    Memories started coming back, but there was something
missing from them.

    Pictures!  I couldn't picture any of the things I was
thinking about in my mind!

    What did my mother look like?

    After a lot of struggle, I conjured up an image that was
vaguely female, but if I attempted to focus on any particular
part... say, the face... it would blur into the
inconsequential.

    Your mind is a muscle, my teacher would say.  (Teacher?
Who?) You need to exercise that muscle.

    I never realized that thinking was such tough exercise.
It felt so good to sleep...

    Blackness.

* * *

    After eons, my memories came back, little by little, with
a lot of work on my part.  I believed that I had remembered
most things that I should.  Of course, if I didn't know that
I had forgotten something, how would I be able to tell?
Anyway, there wasn't any major gaps, except with visualizing
things.

    Apparently, my mental calisthenics was working.  Time for
the next part... work on visualizations.

    I had avoided this before because it was very depressing.
I knew that I should be able to visualize things, and I knew
that I'd probably recognize things once I could figure out
how to visualize them.

    THIS MIND WILL WORK, I told myself sternly.

    Exhaustion.  Blackness.

* * *

    I woke up again.  I had lost count of how often that I
fell asleep during my mental workouts.

    Something was different now.  There was something
glaringly obviously different.

    A whiteness that wasn't there before.  WHITE!  It was a
color!  I was seeing it!  WHITE!

    It was a blur, but it was more than I had accomplished so
far.  I could see white... and it wouldn't go away as I tried
to focus on it.

    I worked at it, trying different angles.  The whiteness
moved, and I saw that there was darker whiteness within the
white.

    It was a puzzle, but I continued to work on it.

    The darker whiteness was coming into focus.  Little round
blobs.  The light was a bluish-white, I could see now.  The
round blobs looked like transparent plastic buttons...

    After what seemed like ages, I realized that I was
looking at the plastic pating underneath a fluorescent light
fixture.  I knew that I wasn't seeing it with my eyes; I was
seeing it in my mind.  It still seemed very real.

    I changed my point of view, and saw a new whiteness... a
milky whiteness.  I was now looking at a ceiling tile.  I'm
imagining a ceiling!

    The observation stunned me.  A ceiling!

    My point of view shifted again, now a few feet lower.  I
could see many light fixtures intermingled with ceiling tiles.

    Look lower... a white wall...

    Nothing on the wall... just white.

    Look below... What is underneath me?

    I saw green, brown, and white blobs--and then a whole
panoply of colors.  I tried to focus on the colors, but they
were moving.  Tiny movements, but they were moving.

    Slowly... very excruciatingly slowly... the colors came
into focus.

    There were three heads, huddled around something.  There
was whiteness underneath them.

    I could see them now.  Heads that had something green on
them.

    The picture started to clear, but very very agonizingly
slowly.

    There was four people in the room, not three.  One was
lying down.

    The three other heads were above the one lying down.
They were moving too fast for me to focus on them.  The one
lying down wasn't moving.

    It occurred to me that I was looking at a patient in a
hospital.

    This was strange.  I don't recall ever having been in a
hospital.  Maybe I was remembering some movie, but this movie
didn't seem to be familiar at all.

    Wait... the patient had a band on his wrist.  Could I
focus on that band?

    I shifted my point of view, moving slowly and liquidly
closer and closer to that band.

    I saw the name on the band, and realized that I was
looking at myself.

    It all went black.

* * *

    I later awoke, and immediately remembered seeing myself
in a hospital room.  My memory exercises seemed to have been
working.

    The dark gray blurriness was back again.  I couldn't see
anything any more.

    Suddenly, unbidden, I was there again: up on the ceiling
looking down.

    I was in a different room now.  There was a body in a
bed... a hospital bed.

    Focus came quickly.  The person in the bed had his face
all bandaged.  A leg was in traction, and I could see that a
lot of the body was bandaged.

    I knew without checking the patient's wrist band that I
was looking at myself.

    I looked around the room.  There was a bed next to mine,
made up and empty.  The room looked quite empty.  There was a
television that was turned off, and a clock on the wall.
There was a chair near the door.

    I looked the other way, and saw that I wasn't alone in
the room.  There was a woman wearing a dress uniform sitting
next to my bed.  Try as I might, I had to swear that I had
never seen her before.  Was she a missing memory?

    I tried to focus on the woman.  I was sure that I had
never seen this woman before.  She wasn't dressed as a nurse,
so why was she in my hospital room?  Was I under some sort of
guard?  If so, then why?

    I looked around the room again, and found the clock that
I had seen earlier.  Something was wrong.  I could have sworn
that the time it had said before was 9:50 (AM?  PM?).  It now
read 4:15.

    Where was time going?

    I looked back toward the woman in uniform, but she wasn't
there anymore.

    Blackness again.

* * *

    This happened a number of times.

    Seeing things from this mental point of view was very
disorienting.

    I continued my mental calisthenics, trying to gather all
my memories and test them out.

    Mathematics had always fascinated me when I was growing
up, and I retrieved memories of math classes I had.

    I could see myself working out equations on paper.  These
were tests that I had in high school.  I didn't know that I
had remembered the questions so clearly!

    A sudden inspiration came to me.  I had my mental image
of my working out an answer--calculating square roots of
numbers with decimals.  I remembered the technique.  I
decided to imagine myself calculating the square root of two.

    Slowly, slowly, my imagined hand worked it out.  1.4...
this was familiar.  1-4-2... was this right?  I checked the
work sheet, it seemed correct.  1-3-4-5-2-3-7-3-0-9-5... how
many digits was that?  Fifteen after the decimal point.

    The number "1.414213452373095" looked vaguely familiar,
but how would I check?

    I copied the answer onto another paper, and did the
arduous task of multiplying the two sixteen digit numbers.
After a time, it came out:

    1.999999688873028239887079879025

    Very close to two.  Let's see... for every two digits of
a square root, you get one digit in accuracy when you
multiply it to itself.  This gave me a one with seven
nines... about what I'd expect.

    This was weird, but I decided to continue my re-education.

* * *

    It occurred to me that I hadn't looked in on myself in a
while.  (How long?)

    I opened my mental eye, and I found myself back in my
hospital room.  Something was different, though.  There were
no longer any bandages or traction equipment.

    Was that me?  I appeared to be sleeping.  I looked...
different, somehow.

    There was somebody else in the room.

    That woman again... this time standing.  She was in
civilian clothes, now, but I knew it was the same woman.
Only, she looked different, as well.

    How was she different?

    I tried to think back on the last time I saw her, and I
saw here there again, sitting on the chair in a military
uniform.  I had never looked at her name tag, but I now had
her old mental image fixed in my brain.  Could I see it now?
Yes!  The name tag read "Cadley." That was her last name,
anyhow.

    My view shifted back to her in civilian clothes.  She
wore a light blue short-sleeve blouse, and a darker blue
skirt.  I could see more of her figure now, standing up, and
out of the not-too-revealing dress jacket.  I ventured closer
to her, and I could see a light blue bra through the sheer
blouse.

    How was I seeing this?  I turned my attention to "me" in
the bed.  I was still asleep.

    Turning back to Lieutenant Cadley (I remembered her
insignia from when she was wearing a uniform), I saw that she
was talking.  I looked in the direction that she was looking,
and a nurse was there.

    I tried to listen to what they were saying, and from
somewhere, I started hearing them, like somebody turned on a
radio.

    "... not changed at all, I'm afraid.  He occasionally
changes expression, but that's normal for his condition..."

    The nurse was talking, and it was the first words that I
could hear... and understand... since... since...

    Blackness.

* * *

    I woke up again.  I found that I was alone in the room.

    Something was different... I found that I could hear
things again, just like I did when I first entered this
twilight zone.

    However, it was not like those disembodied voices that I
knew I was actually listening to with my ears so long ago...
this had the same "mental" quality as my visualizations of
Lt. Cadley, my high school classes, and myself.  I knew that
it originated in my mind and not through my actual ears.

    The sounds were consistent, however.

    If I moved toward the window, I could see cars in a
parking lot.  I could see and hear car doors close.

    Then I noticed where I was.  I was in the hospital in San
Diego!  I recognized the buildings across the street as well.

    The street looked different, somehow.  The cars looked
much different, as well.

    Could I venture outside of my room?

    I moved my presence outside the window, and floated down
one... two... three... four stories to the ground level.

    I saw the main entrance to the hospital towards my right.
As I made my way toward the entrance, I was startled by the
sound of a motorcycle and froze!

    The motorcycle drove right through me... raising a big
racket... and I lost my bearings...

    Blackness.

* * *

    I woke back up again, alone in the room again.  I decided
to go outside again, this time being a lot more careful.

    I floated a couple of feet above the grass, careful not
to get too close to anybody or anything.  It was like I had
no height or width.  My presence was a single point, focused
on a single location.

    I was about fifty feet from the main entrance, and I saw
a newspaper machine.  I could find out the date!  I halted,
trying to figure out a way to get into the main entrance
without getting spooked by all the people that were walking
back and forth, oblivious to my "presence."

    As I was wondering my next move, I felt something bump
into me... and then heard a mumbled "Sorry, guy!" as it
brushed through me.  I looked all around, but didn't see what
it was that had felt me, or spoke to me.

    I froze, and my attention returned to the newspaper box.
The date!

    I looked all around, and saw that there was a break in
the pedestrian traffic near the entrance.  I moved quickly,
and went right up to the machine.  There was a paper in the
window of the machine, and I quickly found the date... June
18, 1983.

    My heavens!  Seven years had passed.

    Suddenly, I found myself back in my room.

    I needed to think this through.
<1st attachment end>


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