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Message-ID: <48854asstr$1092607802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Dream State 14 (MF FF Mult fant rom cons mc Mdom oral) by JiMC
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Date: Sun, 15 Aug 2004 18:10:02 -0400
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--
jimc_author@hotmail.com

JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

_________________________________________________________________
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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: 1.20 $ $Date: 2004/07/31 03:06:02 $

Chapter 14--"I hear the voices when I'm dreaming, and I hear
them say..."

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    "No," I answered, somehow comforted by the feel of
Debbie's concern.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    "Of course," both girls answered in unison.

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

    Inside the two girls' minds, I suggested, "Now let us all
try together."

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

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

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

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

    "He's... he's sleeping, but it's as if he's not there,"
said Mary, softly.

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

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

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

    "We reached him," Debbie breathed quietly.

    I simply nodded in answer.

    "So where is he?" Debbie asked.

    Mary said quietly, "It's as if he's gone."

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

    "We all love him," I heard Mary think aloud.

    "Yes," I said, afraid to say any more.

    "You don't need to reassure us, Aimee."

    That thought startled me.  I couldn't tell if it was Mary
or Debbie that formed that thought.  "I am... I am sorry..."
I thought.

    "Don't be sorry."

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

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

    No answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

    "Coma!" I shouted, jumping out of my chair.  "That's
where he is right now!"

    Mary pulled me back.  "No, Aimee.  It's not the same as
before.  I know."

    "How do you know, Mary?  What's different?" I asked.

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

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

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

    "What exception?" I asked.

    "When he's with you, dear."

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

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

    "Yes.  He told me that, too," I said.

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

    I thought about it, and nodded.

    "Think of what such a 'trip' must have cost him."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    "I am not jealous," Mary said, smiling.  "I'm happy that
Jim has found his perfect partner."

    "Partners," I corrected.

    "Partner," Mary insisted.

    "He loves you... and Debbie!" I said.

    "Yes.  He does," Mary answered.

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

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

    Softly, Mary said, "You are so unique.  You are so
special."

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

    "Very true," Mary answered.

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

    "You should sleep," Mary said.  "You really need sleep."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    I got a sinking feeling at that.

    "So what do we do?" asked Debbie.

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

    "Eight hundred and twenty," I said automatically.

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

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

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

    "If we cannot trust him, we're already screwed," I stated.

    "Can he arrange for us to get money in Washington?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Debbie said, "What should I do?"

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

    "And you?" Debbie asked.

    "I'll route through a city on the east coast, and from
there to Baltimore.  Same deal."

    "So... Chicago and New York?" Debbie asked.

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

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

    "He'll be all right," Mary said to me.

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

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

    "He loves all of us," I answered.

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

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

    "Not in his heart, dear."

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    "I don't understand," I said, something I was quite used
to saying to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

    "Still nothing?" Mary asked, concerned.

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

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

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

    "Jim's back!" I said, excited.  "I mean, he's not
completely back, but he's dreaming!"

    Unfortunately, things went black for me right after that.

* * *

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

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

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

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

    "You're all right!" I said, seeing my husband in his
usual cheerful mood.

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

    I was quite hungry and thirsty.

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

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

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

    I simply nodded.  I was very hungry.

    "I will love you forever, Master," I said softly.

    "I love you, my darling Aimee."

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

    "Oh, shit," I heard a voice say.  "Now they're both got
that blank look on them."

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

    Debbie nodded.  "We've lost some time."

    "Time is our friend," I said, smiling.

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

    "There is no danger right now," I assured Mary.

    She looked at me.

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

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

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

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

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

    "That you aren't third in his heart?" Mary asked.  "It's
perfectly obvious to me."

    "He was meant for us all.  We all were meant for him."

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

    "Mary, you don't believe in God," I pointed out.  "You do
not believe in predestination."

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

    "We need transportation," I said, changing the subject.

    "Limo drivers don't mind working for cash," Debbie said.

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

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

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

    "How do you know that?" Mary asked.

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

    "Master?" I said.

    "Yes, Aimee?"

    "May I humbly suggest something?"

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

    "You may," Jim said, simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    "Yes, Master," Debbie said, almost inaudibly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Somehow, no words needed to be spoken.
<1st attachment end>


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