Dream State
Chapter 24

Copyright© 2001 by JiMC

Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 24 - What truly is the "stuff that dreams are made of?" Bogey's description of money aside, this is a tale of self-discovery for Jim when he confronts a rather strange and (hopefully?) unique ability. Or, is he just dreaming? (26 Chapters, 192,350 words total)

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Mind Control   Fiction   MaleDom   Oral Sex  

"Do what's good for you, or you're not good for anybody!"

I had thought that our trip up and down the east coast had convinced June that she was really a member of our family. On the first night after we arrived back in Makena, though, June told me that she was a bit hesitant to sleep with Mary or Aimee. I told her that she should just talk to them and go at her own pace. There was no rush, I told her.

The next morning, however, Aimee had her own solution. After breakfast was all cleaned up, Aimee turned to June and said, "June! Report to Sunrise, naked and ready!"

June looked surprised, but scurried upstairs. Aimee followed her and I think that cured June of any misgivings she might have had. Mary, Debbie, and I giggled afterward at the two of them, since it was so comical to witness.

I helped June move her clothes out from the guest house that she had originally been using into the Rose Room, which had been Mary's room until right before she had Dawn.

It was obvious to me that we would probably have to redesign the upper floor of the house eventually. With Debbie pregnant, we knew that Debbie was going to move from Indigo into the Orchid Room around the time she delivered--did that mean that Mary would be moving into Indigo? In addition, Dawn would not be sleeping with Mary when she got older, so she'd need her own room, as would Debbie's child, eventually.

When I discussed this with the family, the first suggestion was that Aimee and June might share a room, but I vetoed that idea. I liked the fact that each of the women had their own room; it allowed me to know which bedroom I would be using at night, since Aimee had absolutely forbidden me from sleeping alone. Although I did occasionally sleep with multiple partners, it wasn't the norm. Making love with one woman was very personal to me. It was a one on one experience where the two of us focused on each other. Two or more bed partners reduced the experience, but the women sometimes liked the shared intimacy, as did I, in a different way.

I knew that I could give up my own room for Dawn, but that was just postponing the problem for when Debbie's child gets older.

The problem, of course, was that all the bedrooms were enormous. They could all be split into two easily and they'd still have room for a king sized bed, a large walk-in closet, and a private bathroom in each. Even the Orchid Room had more than one unused closet that had originally been an exercise room and a library before we converted the downstairs bedrooms into our main exercise room, library/den, and laundry room.

Aimee got some graph paper and the two of us laid out our current floor plan and then we all worked on possible designs for alternate bedroom arrangements. We liked the "one bathroom for each bedroom" idea and kept that. We also liked the idea of a larger bedroom/nursery that Orchid had evolved into. I pointed out the plumbing requirements for the bathrooms, and the women took that into consideration.

This wasn't something we needed to rush into. After all, each of the women currently had a room of their own, and since Aimee steadfastly refused me to sleep alone at any time, there wasn't any lack of beds for me to sleep in.


Aimee and I had a long talk about June after we returned from the east coast. We were sharing a blanket on the little beach near the shack.

"You have gotten June over her fear of men," Aimee said, watching June, Mary, and Debbie splash in the warm ocean.

"I'm not sure it was fear," I pointed out. "I've been in her mind, and it was more like disgust. Do you really think she fears men?"

"I'm not really sure," Aimee admitted. "You are the only man in her eyes, now. That is for certain. No woman can withstand the emotional volcano that you send her when you want her to feel loved."

Emotional volcano--I liked the sound of that. Aimee had a way with words.

"I love June," I said. "You once asked me how much, remember? I think it was right here, in fact."

Aimee nodded.

"June seems young and naive, but she isn't," I said. "She's actually the same age as Debbie. Look at her out there," I said, pointing to the ocean where June was in a splashing fight with Debbie and Mary. "June is as playful as Dawn, but she tackled a drunk in a bar in New York in less than a second. She's the most competitive women that I've ever met, but she doesn't care that I sleep with Debbie, Mary, or you, separately or together, at any time."

"She's a woman of mystery," Aimee agreed.

"Like somebody else that I know," I said, smiling at Aimee.

"All women are a mystery to you, Master," Aimee said, softly. "That's why you love us so much."

I sighed as I heard Aimee call me "Master." Unlike when Debbie and Mary called me that in the past, I actually felt a bit of pride when Aimee or June called me that.

"I guess," I said, thinking about how much Aimee and June were similar to each other.

June ran out of the water and to the blanket where we were sitting. "Come on, you two," June said, playfully. "The water's warm. Come on!"

Aimee and I allowed June to drag us into the surf.


Debbie had adopted June's technique of dry humping me in her sleep during our vacation once June told her about it, and Aimee also did it occasionally once I came home. Mary didn't do this at all, and I think it was mostly because she preferred sleeping with our bodies bracketing Dawn.

Our daughter had grown, and she was making more and more noises that were starting to sound like words. I had missed her first real word, "Mama," during our trip to the east coast, but Dawn always was happy to give repeat performances, over and over again. She always smiled as she said it, even pointing to me when she said it. Mary and I were still very proud.

Another of Dawn's abilities was that she seemed to have inherited Mary's and my military knowledge, at least when it came crawling on her stomach like a commando. She'd crawl to get wherever it was that she wanted to go, until she'd come upon a barrier like a closed door or the small gate we had at the top of the two stairways. When she'd reach such an obstacle, she'd screech until somebody would pick her up and put her back where she belonged. We never figured out how she got out of her playpen, since she never escaped when there were people watching her. She was a stealth commando, it seemed.

Dawn also now had firm control of her rattle, and squealed in delight as she made it make noise--and woe befall anybody that tried to take the rattle away from her... even just to shake it!

Does this sound like I was a proud father? Well, you bet your ass I am!

Mary, Aimee, and June were all ga-ga over Debbie's condition, with Mary giving Debbie advice from her own recent experience, and Aimee doing the same from her doula training classes.

If I thought that Mary and Debbie had a deep bond before, it was now even closer. Almost every time I wasn't sleeping with either of them, they'd be sleeping together.

June and Aimee spent their nights alternating with me and each other. Occasionally, June would desire a threesome, and Aimee and I were happy to do so.

That was not to say that Debbie or Mary were ignoring me. I knew how Mary was when she was pregnant, and Debbie had mood swings that made avoiding her occasionally a good idea for your peace of mind.

During June's first time with Mary, she found that she enjoyed playing bedtime with the mother and daughter, and then, after Dawn fell asleep, the two of them enjoyed a happy sixty-nine. I giggled to myself thinking about my mental image of the two deadly sparring partners sharing a moment of ecstasy together.

Mary and June were still sparring together, and from what I saw, it appeared that the two women were nearly equals on the mats. Amazingly, I noticed that Mary was occasionally sporting bruises after a workout, and she finally seemed to be breathing heavily. June had the advantage of youth, youthful reflexes, and a fiercely competitive spirit as an advantage over Mary, and in the kind of bare hand fighting they did, reflexes and spirit counted for quite a lot.

Additionally, both women were scarily accurate at the gun range that wasn't too far away from the shack. June had graduated from handguns to rifles, and the two women eventually had a nice collection of weapons that they kept locked away but easily accessible.

I occasionally joined Mary and June at the range, and saw that Mary was a marksman with nearly every weapon that fired bullets. She almost always scored perfect bulls-eye's on the twelve-spot target that she used.

Since I had been trained by the army, I found that my marksmanship wasn't quite as good as it had been when I was in basic training. Mary suggested that I continue practicing to become better (I averaged between 88 and 92 in my targets, I had been about a 98 average back in basic), but I felt that my accuracy was good enough.

When Mary heard about my attitude, she said, "Jim, there may come a day when you're up against ten men. Getting nine targets out of ten will still leave you with a possibly armed man still against you."

I knew better than to disagree with Mary. After all, Mary was right. I shouldn't rely on just Mary and June to cover my ass. What kind of a leader was I?

Even so, I didn't attend the gun range with them too much, actually. June and Mary had a scary dedication toward improving their accuracy that even impressed the people that ran the range. The women constantly had an audience as they practiced, and the owners on more than one occasion asked if either of the women were interested in jobs as instructors. Both Mary and June politely declined.


One day, I was playing with Dawn in the atrium, who was playing with her rattle on the carpet. Dawn's plush flamingo was also around--another of her precious possessions that she doesn't like being without.

All of a sudden, I heard a commotion in the kitchen, and Mary bounded into the atrium, pulling Dawn up and pushing me away from where I had been sitting on the floor. I was about to ask Mary what was happening when I heard a large roar as a truck moved by on the road in front of our house.

The vibrations of the truck could be felt inside the house, and in just a moment or two, the vibrations toppled a vase that landed on the floor where Dawn and I had been playing just moments earlier. As it was, it landed on Dawn's precious flamingo, causing Dawn to start crying.

"Sorry, Jim," Mary said, cuddling Dawn, who was still crying. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Just my pride," I said, standing up and rubbing my ass. "How did you know that would happen?"

"I didn't. I just knew Dawn had to get out of the way."

I nodded. I remembered Aimee telling me how Mary could see danger to Dawn and me in advance. I also noticed how Mary said Dawn was in danger--not me--and Dawn was the first one that Mary moved out of the way. My pride was hurt in more ways in one, but I realized that I would have probably used the same priority scheme myself.

I shuddered, thanking the heavens that Mary had time to get me out of the way as well. That vase had been heavy. The flamingo had prevented too much damage to the vase. There was no damage to the flamingo, and Dawn calmed down a little bit when her plush flamingo was given back to her.

Mary hovered over Dawn like a hawk for the rest of the day.


Now that she was pregnant, Debbie no longer had the wanderlust that she had before, and the second half of her voyage of discovery was postponed.

One day, Aimee and I were spending some private time having an afternoon fuck in Sunrise, her personal room.

"You are troubled, Jim."

"I keep thinking about that vase and Mary."

"Mary's not a danger to you, Jim. You just need to realize you aren't her highest priority anymore."

"That's not what is troubling me."

"What is it, then?"

"It's Mary's fixation on self-defense and weapons."

"No, it isn't," Aimee said.

"Huh?"

"You are worried about June's fixation on those things."

"I guess," I said. Aimee had a way of cutting through bullshit.

"Mary says that June is her equal or maybe even better with bare hands."

I nodded at Aimee. "I saw June throw a knife in New York. It was just a demonstration, but it scared me. She also knocked down a drunk that was ready to hit me. The last time I was at the range, I couldn't tell Mary's and June's targets! They both shoot nearly perfect with both hands!"

"June is still the woman that loves to lay on you and rub herself to sleep."

I laughed softly. Aimee had a way of pointing those sort of things out. I had taken to calling June "Inchworm" as a pillow name due to the way her butt would move up and down as she slept.

"Those are two people that my mind cannot reconcile. June the Inchworm sleeps with knives and guns near her bed. They're locked up, of course, but I've seen her practice getting them out of the lock boxes and even has her ammo loaded in seconds!"

"Mary does the same," Aimee pointed out.

"I never knew it until I asked Mary, and then only after I had made a joke with June. She demonstrated it to me, and I was floored."

Aimee simply nodded.

"You know that I'm a little squeamish having weapons in the same room as Dawn, but I know how secure the lock boxes are. Still, don't you think this is going a little too far?"

"You should ask them," Aimee replied. "What I think doesn't matter in this case. You two are both Dawn's parents, and that should be paramount. I do know that Mary's guns and knives don't really bother you, Jim. June's shouldn't either. It's just who they are."

I sighed. "I'd rather have the cuddly June rather than the killer June."

"They are one and the same person. You said that June was a woman of mystery, Jim."

Our discussion paused for a few moments as we reached orgasm. Sex with Aimee was always very relaxing. This was in stark contrast with Debbie or June, who could leave you breathless without breaking a sweat.

"What do you think about Debbie?" Aimee asked, afterward.

"I think I understand her more than I did before we left for New York. We had a couple of long talks. Did Debbie show you the letter her father wrote?"

Aimee nodded.

"It confirms your suspicion."

"You don't want me to always be right."

I laughed. "It would make you more human, Aimee."

Aimee gave me one of her infrequent laughs. "I'll try to be more human. Does that mean I need to act like you, Master?"

I laughed heartily at Aimee's suggestion. "No, Aimee," I answered. "One human asshole in the house is enough, don't you think?"

I rolled over until Aimee was in June's sleeping position. "This is enjoyable," Aimee sighed.

"You taught it to me; I taught it to June."

"I taught it to you so you could teach it to June."

Aimee could sometimes be exasperating. I didn't respond, but enjoyed the sensations of her motions against my prick.

"Have you thought about June's request?" Aimee asked.

"Which request?"

Aimee didn't answer, but gave me a look that told me she knew that I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had thought that only June and I had known about it.

"I don't fuck women in the ass," I answered.

"June will never know the pleasure of penetration."

As I said, Aimee was exasperating. "Why must I be the only man here?"

"You won't be for long. In five months, Debbie will have her James."

"A boy?"

I had been able to determine Dawn's gender before she was born, as did Aimee, but we both kept that information from Mary because she told us that wanted to be happily surprised when she delivered. I hadn't yet gotten any sense of the gender of Debbie's unborn child yet, but I did secretly hope that Debbie would get her boy. Of course, the odds were practically zero that any child of Debbie's would be the one to penetrate June.

My question had been a rhetorical, anyway. I knew that I didn't want any other men in the house as competition. I wondered how the women could be so accepting of such a non-traditional relationship, and why I was so closed-minded about reversing the roles.

Aimee saw my mind was far away and said, softly, "We got a letter from Kristen and Jim today."

"Oh?"

"Kristen's pregnant again," Aimee told me. "Oogie has called off touring this time, since it took such a toll on Kristen during her first pregnancy."

"Do you still think Jim may be an Empath?"

"He is not an Empath. He is magical."

"I don't see the difference."

"His magic comes from... elsewhere. Ours comes from within."

"What is his magic? Music?" I asked, intrigued.

"Music, definitely," Aimee said. "He has the capability to be bigger than Elvis. Instead he spends his time with his wife and his family. He fights the record industry tooth and nail, and they have much more money than he has. If it weren't for his undeniable talent, the two of them would be broke by now. Still, he wins against the big companies. Even performers that have contracts with the record companies ignore their companies' prohibitions and perform at their clubs, sometimes donating the fees they earn to the Swift-Crittenhouse Charitable Foundation."

I nodded. "I like music being his magic."

"That's not his big magic. Music just defines him."

"Oh?" I asked. "What is the big magic you perceive?"

"I see wisdom and restraint," Aimee said, her eyes unfocused with a faraway look. "Kristen is consumed by his magic, but her love for him comes from deep within her heart."

Like many conversations I had with Aimee, I found myself totally confused. Aimee was describing the relationship that every woman in this house, with the possible exception of Dawn, had with me.

"I've invited their family here on a number of occasions," Aimee continued. "They used to say that their touring of their clubs makes it difficult, but now that they have stopped touring, I feel I could possible convince them to visit us."

Aimee's rubbing had me erect again. Aimee knew this and adjusted her body so my cock slipped inside her again, with her on top this time. Of all the women in the house, Aimee seemed to have a magical way of knowing exactly how to move her crotch at any time. I have a feeling she had learned special exercises as part of her doula training.

Aimee started a massaging motion that consisted of her hips moving as well as the muscles of her cunt constantly modifying their grip. Aimee didn't fuck this way very often, and I found it extremely stimulating.

I sent waves of love directed at Aimee, and found, to my surprise, that she was doing the same thing to me at the exact same time. I felt lost in the torrent of the pure emotion that Aimee and I were sharing. I moved my face down to kiss Aimee, which would be the icing on the cake for me.

Instead of kissing me, Aimee pulled her face away from me and asked, "Will you grant June her request?"

Aimee may be a wise person indeed, but I knew for a fact that her question came from the fact that she was a female. She knew without doubt that I would find it difficult to deny anybody anything in my current state of arousal.

I didn't answer Aimee, knowing that I would cave in to her desires.

Aimee didn't repeat her request, but her motions were becoming more and more stimulating. She did not allow me to kiss her, moving her face away from my approaching lips whenever I tried.

My breathing got erratic.

Aimee continued to arouse me with her motions and with the "emotional volcano" she was erupting in my mind. I closed my eyes and tried moving my own hips, but Aimee's position on me now prevented that.

My balls started churning, but at that very moment, Aimee's cunt muscles managed to clamp tight around the head of my cock, preventing further movement, and, even more alarming, preventing my semen from releasing.

"Wha--!"

"Will you grant June her request?" Aimee repeated.

I had never felt anything like the jaws of the vise that Aimee had created with her muscles. It felt like somebody had suddenly tied a tight rope around my shaft.

My mind turned inside out. My brain had left the building, taking up residence in my balls, where a serious need was boiling within. Aimee's question reverberated in my empty skull, and I knew what I had to do in order to achieve my release.

"Yes..." I started to say, and as I said that first word, Aimee released her grip on me, and my balls went ape shit. "Oh... My... GOD... !" I cried as my seed belatedly entered Aimee's waiting chamber. I had felt this way once before, when I had tried to stave off an orgasm at June's expense, thinking that I might accidentally inseminate her. This time, however, it had entirely been Aimee's doing, and it was much stronger.

After about ten minutes, my heart rate finally slowed to around a hundred beats per minute.

"I felt your release," Aimee said. "In my mind, I mean. Only one other time had I felt pleasure so raw."

I nodded my head. "You tried connecting to Dawn?"

Aimee nodded in response. "Jim, I'm sorry for torturing you. It's not my place."

"Humph," I answered. "I was just thinking that my refusal to June might feel to her the way you just made me feel. All that need and no way to express it."

Aimee didn't respond. After a few minutes, she said, "You are a wise and wonderful man, James Montgomery. We are all lucky to have you."


I walked downstairs, no bothering to dress. I saw June in the kitchen, and I walked past her into the atrium. I sat on my favorite chair.

June noticed my lack of clothing, and came into the atrium after me. She was about to ask me a question when I interrupted her.

"June," I said, using my firm command tone. "Suckle."

June was a master of the penis suckle. Unlike a true blow job, suckling was simply putting a cock into her mouth, taking it about halfway and not even approaching her throat, and then simply applying a gentle suction. She was gentle and this didn't even require me to be hard. I found that I enjoyed June's suckles after a good workout.

During this operation, June's head would be slightly lower than my balls, with her face looking up past my dick to make eye contact with me.

"Hmmm," June sighed, continuing her gentle sucking. "Aimee." June had recognized my last bed partner.

"Yes," I said. "Aimee suggested that I grant you your request, June."

June's eyes opened wider in surprise, but she kept my cock in place in her mouth.

I was still reluctant, but I said, "I'll do it, June, but I'll want Debbie to be with us when it happens." I wanted Debbie around because she, like Aimee, was pretty well connected into June's feelings, and she was more physically expressive than Aimee. Debbie would prevent me from becoming Mr. Asshole (quite literally).

June's eyes simply sparkled with happiness.

June continued to suckle me as I fell fast asleep.


I was dreaming of a moonlit sky surrounded by stars. It was a dream that I had many times, and it was somehow comforting to me. Everything was peaceful and quiet. The air was cool but not cold. I could see the shadows on the nearly full moon, and I tried to make out the patterns in the shadows and of the stars as I continued to stare at them.

I could do this forever, I thought. It's so calm, so beautiful here.

After a length of time--I have no way of knowing how long--I suddenly noticed June was with me, her nude body illuminated as if there were a spotlight behind me shining on her.

"Hello, Master."

"Where are we?" I asked, knowing that the road was in San Diego, but also knowing that June had never before been a part of this dream.

"We are in your dream, I think," June said.

"Where are we physically? Our bodies?"

"Back at the shack. I'm still doing what you commanded me to do to you. You were hard and then went soft when you fell asleep. You left my mind, so I entered yours."

I couldn't feel June's suckling, but I could still feel the cool breeze on my body, which made me now realize that I was nude in this dream.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Aimee told me what she did to you. I want to apologize."

"Aimee is in the atrium?"

"No. She's still in Sunrise. She told me in my mind what she had done to you, and I was trying to think of what I wanted to say to you in response when your mind left mine."

"You did nothing wrong; neither did Aimee."

June dropped her eyes. "I will not accept your offer on those terms."

"I didn't agree because Aimee did that to me. I agreed because I realized that my not granting your request might hurt you in a similar fashion. Remember when I didn't grant your request to have an orgasm back in New York?"

"Yes," June said.

"I realize that it might be the same when I denied your request."

"Aimee told me that you are too much a gentle man--she said it like that, two words--to do something that you think might hurt me. I know you had problems spanking me that first time, and I understand how you feel now."

"You are learning, Inchworm."

"Aimee told me that the two of us share a magical bond that none of the rest of us share. I'm not sure what Aimee means by that."

I sighed. "I don't think anybody on earth can possibly truly understand Aimee."

June nodded. Her face was still serious. "I'm still sorry. I didn't intend for Aimee to hurt you."

"She didn't hurt me. She apologized. Let's say it was a mistake. I feel that if Aimee makes a mistake then there's still hope for the human race."

This time, June laughed. "It would be funny to spank Aimee!"

I shook my head. I don't think that Aimee had that sort of need, and I had no need to punish her.

June said seriously, "You consider Aimee an angel sent from God, don't you?"

This was a danger when you had a person that can invade dreams walking inside your head. "I don't think the metaphor is correct."

"Still, you think of her that way."

"I have yet to figure Aimee out," I admitted. "When I think that I might be starting to understand her, she does something outrageous and... it turns out to once again be something perfect."

"I wish I could have met Aimee's Aunt Tomeii," June said wistfully. "She sounds so much like Aimee herself."

"It's scary to think of two Aimees on the earth at the same time," I mused.

"Jim?"

"Yes?"

"We now have an audience."

I looked around. I was alone on a road in San Diego. But I wasn't alone. June was there... and then I realized that it wasn't June at all, but rather, a projection of her.

"Don't try to intellectualize it, Jim," June said.

"You're getting better at this."

"Mary's getting very concerned, Jim. Debbie and Dawn with her. Mary's shaking your body and you aren't waking up. Would you please wake up and reassure her?"

For some reason, the process of waking up eluded me. "What do I do?"

"When I'm dreaming, and I know it, I simply blink my eyes and I wake up."

I blinked my eyes.

I found myself back in the atrium. Debbie was holding Dawn, and Mary had her hands on my shoulders, shaking me. Aimee was there as well, shaking June just like Mary was shaking me. June had been shaken away from my cock. Mary, Debbie, and Aimee had very worried looks on their faces.

The daylight in the atrium was hard on my eyes. I squinted and said, "Hey! What are you all doing here?"

"You were gone again. You weren't dreaming!" Mary said. "What's wrong with June?"

"Huh?" I said, confused. "I was dreaming!"

Aimee looked at me. "Neither Mary nor I could get to either of you."

"I've been here," I said. I saw that June looked completely unconscious. "I took a nap after June started sucking me."

"She's not here, either," Mary said. "She wasn't doing anything, it was like you were two statues, Jim. Look at her... connect with her... her mind isn't there!"

At that moment, June blinked, and she came back to life. She saw the three women around us. "We have an audience," June repeated, aloud this time.

"What were the two of you doing?" Mary demanded.

"Making love," I said. "I think we were both dreaming, and visiting each other."

This was one of the first times that Aimee looked confused about this sort of thing.

"Please, Mary. Everything is all right," I said firmly to reassure my wife.

"You two had us extremely concerned," Mary said. "We were all scared for you, especially Aimee!"

It took some convincing, but finally the women left June and me by ourselves.

"You lied to them," June whispered.

"Huh?" I whispered back.

"You weren't really dreaming. You were unconscious, and it wasn't the same as when you are dreaming. You were behaving the same way that Mary and Aimee describe you when they took you to Washington."

"You mean... ?"

"It's not exhaustion," June said, reading my mind. "Exhaustion may bring it on, but it's not just that. Aimee doesn't understand it. Nobody understands it. I find it confusing."

 
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