Chapter 13

"Are You Happy? Are You Satisfied? How Long Can You Stand The Heat?"

I woke up, expecting to find Debbie in bed with me. Instead, I found a sleeping Aimee next to me.

I stirred, and as expected, Aimee woke up, being a very light sleeper.

"Good morning, Master," Aimee said, smiling.

"Good morning, Aimee. Where's Debbie?"

"She got up early in the morning," Aimee explained. "I think she's out for a jog with Mary."

Debbie get up early in the morning? Stranger things have happened.

I had a morning erection and I realized that Aimee was quite aware of it, if her eyes were any indication. I leaned over and kissed the pretty Polynesian girl and then hopped out of bed to relieve my pent-up hydraulic pressure.

When I returned, Aimee had turned so that she was facing me. She was wearing a long white flannel robe, and her breasts made two tiny indentations in the fabric.

I moved toward the bed, and sat down in front of Aimee. I playfully moved my left hand toward her left breast. I stroked her lightly through the soft fabric, and I could feel her nipple stiffen in response.

"So, what's the plan for today?" I asked Aimee.

Aimee's answer was a murmur and I saw that her eyes had closed. I had learned from my encounters with Aimee that she loved having her body touched. She would close her eyes so that each new sensation would be a surprise to her. I brought my right hand toward her legs, and ran a long line from the middle of her right thigh slowly up to her belly button. This resulted in a giggle from Aimee.

"That feels wonderful, Master. I would love to do this all day!" Aimee finally answered.

I poked and prodded at her, causing her to squirm on the bed, giggling helplessly as I tickled her.

She moved her left hand slowly, not to prevent my hands from tickling her, but towards my body. She reached and found my knee, and moved her hand up my leg, searching for my boxers.

I knew Aimee's intentions, and I thought for a moment. I playfully pushed her hand away, and she slowly moved it back. I started to tickle her in earnest and Aimee was forced to move her hand back to her own body to try to stop my attacking hands.

This was something new; I had known that Aimee loved being touched in her erogenous areas. This was the first time that I saw her reaction to being tickled.

She really seemed to enjoy being tickled; her hands were only giving me a token resistance, mostly from reflexive movements.

Aimee's face lit up as she was laughing, and her eyes opened and I saw them sparkle. "Master..." she said, trying to get her breath. "Please... Master!" Her words were punctuated by giggles and laughs.

"Hmm? Something wrong?" I asked innocently, continuing my onslaught.

Aimee's breaths became spastic. It was very soon apparent to me where she was particularly sensitive. "T... Tickling..." This was followed by a series of shrieks. It was a good thing that Mary and Debbie were not in the room, or they would have thought I was killing the poor girl. "Oh... my!"

I moved my face to hers, and she tried to push her face to either side, trying to get away from me. I followed her movements, and finally I was able to kiss her. As I did so, I eased up on my tickling. My hands were still brushing over her body through her nightgown, but her laughter was finally starting to decrease.

Our kiss turned passionate. Aimee seemed to put every ounce of her being into the kiss. After a long moment, I felt her body shudder.

I was amused. Did Aimee just have an orgasm? I continued to kiss her, letting her set the pace.

Aimee adjusted her position so she could accommodate my weight better. I had stopped actively tickling her, and was now once again just lightly rubbing my hands against her clothed breasts.

After a few moments, Aimee broke off the kiss. She smiled at me.

"You like?" I asked her, smirking at her.

Aimee sighed. "Tickling," she answered with a swoon, smiling with a faraway look in her eyes.

Aimee came back to earth, I think. "It was... erotic..." she said, her eyes once again misting in a swoon.

Suddenly, I had a rather vivid image in my mind. Aimee, bound to a bed with silk scarves. Me, with a peacock feather in my hand...

This was weird! This was never one of my fantasies! On top of that, a peacock feather was about as alien to my mind as a moon rock.

It occurred to me that the fantasy may have been one of Aimee's. We had shared our thoughts... how much of our thoughts are now embedded in the others' mind?

"Would you like me to tickle you some more?" I asked her.

Aimee lowered her eyes. "If you want, Master."

"No!" I said, adamantly. "Only if you want, Aimee."

I saw a number of changes in Aimee's face. She was silent for a few moments. After a while, she looked up at me, and lowered her eyes immediately, as if in supplication. "Yes, Master. I want."

"Well, how about some breakfast, first?" I said with an evil grin.

I moved off the bed, and offered my hand to Aimee.

She looked up at my proffered hand, a little confused. Then she raised her own toward mine.

I pulled her out of bed. "I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse!" I said.

Aimee rose out of the bed and in a fluid motion that reminded me of Ginger Rogers, swept into my arms, just begging for a kiss. Of course, I can never refuse Aimee anything, especially when she begs.

Aimee led me into the kitchen, and looked around. She asked me if I liked yogurt and I gave her an unenthusiastic affirmative response. Aimee grinned at me and told me to let her prepare breakfast.

I watched my beautiful Hawaiian darling go from cabinet to cabinet, pulling out bowls and some food. She kept her back to me as she assembled her concoction.

After about five minutes, she had a bunch of soup bowls filled. At first, I thought I was looking at two banana splits. Then I realized that the "vanilla ice cream" I was looking at was really yogurt. There was some chocolate sauce and some nuts, and some crunchy stuff on top. I know she had a box of brown sugar out as well.

"This is breakfast?" I asked Aimee, dubiously.

"Yup, and it's good for you, too!" Aimee said.

I watched her dig her spoon into the concoction, and she ate it. Her eyes closed as she ate, and when they reopened, she was smiling at me.

I figured I was game for this. I took a spoonful of banana, yogurt, nuts, and some other stuff. When I ate it, I was surprised. "This is wonderful!" I bubbled.

"My mother used to make things like this for me and my cousins on special occasions. It seems like dessert, except that most of the ingredients are good for you!"

"Is this crunchy stuff oatmeal?" I asked.

Aimee smiled. "Granola, actually," she answered. "The sprinkles on top are wheat germ and brown sugar."

I remembered hippies extolling the virtues of wheat germ in my previous life, and wondered, by Aimee's such casual reference to the stuff, if wheat germ had become more mainstream since. I pushed that thought aside, though. My "Rip Van Winkle" thoughts tended to depress me.

Once we were finished, I insisted that I clean up, and only allowed Aimee to put a couple of items away.

Instead of returning to the bedroom for another tickle-fest, Aimee and I ended up laying on one of the sofas in the living room. We were relaxing watching some Bugs Bunny cartoons on the entertainment center when Mary and Debbie got back in. Aimee told them that their breakfasts were in the refrigerator, and they left for the kitchen.

I had enjoyed watching the Bugs Bunny cartoons when I was a kid. Seeing him on television now brought a connection back to my life before the coma: Bugs Bunny and his friends haven't changed at all! Bugs always seemed to be in charge, no matter what happened. In any situation, he would know exactly what to do. I idly wondered what he'd do in my particular situation. Of course, I realized that Bugs was just a cartoon, but I really wished that I had the utter confidence that Bugs always displayed; the ability to make wisecracks when it looked like Elmer was about to pull the trigger on the rabbit.

I didn't feel very confident nor did I feel in charge as I sat there watching those silly (but enjoyable!) cartoons. My life could possibly be in danger, and the only thing I have been doing recently is mulling over my problems, or getting my rocks off with one or more of the girls, and now here I was just watching cartoons!

Aimee seemed to notice my impatience. "What's the matter, Jim?" she asked.

"I feel like we should be DOING something. Waiting for an investigator to report seems to be wasting time!"

Aimee got up and sat next to me on the sofa where I was sitting. "Jim, we need more information before we can actually do anything."

"I know. It's just that... I don't know, Aimee. We should be making plans." I lowered my head onto her shoulders.

Aimee responded by patting me on the head. "Patience, Jim. Making plans without intelligence never works. You know that. Believe me, you are destined to triumph. You are a good man."

Somehow, Aimee managed to project her calming feelings onto me. I could feel her confidence strengthen me. How did this girl do this?

"Thank you," I whispered. "I really love you, Aimee."

"I will love you forever, Master," she whispered back.

From the kitchen, Debbie and Mary were making enthusiastic comments on the yogurt sundaes Aimee had left in the refrigerator for them.

I was thinking about how great my life was when I found that I fell back asleep.

When I woke up, none of the girls were in sight. I could hear some typing being done in another room (Aimee?). The volume was turned down on the television, which was now showing a few scantily clad women doing exercises. I watched the show a bit, wondering if the point of the show was to help housewives watching keep themselves fit, or for guys to ogle the women on the screen. I decided, after watching what they ridiculously called "aerobics," that it was probably mostly the latter.

A few minutes after I awoke, Aimee came back into the living room.

"You seem to sleep quite a lot," Aimee said. Aimee was always making comments like that.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just shrugged my response.

Aimee studied me a bit and said, "It seems when you use your mind powers, Jim, your body needs to rest a lot afterward. That never seems to happen with me."

Again, I had no answer for her and shrugged again.

"I got a preliminary report from Mr. Voder," Aimee said.

"Voder?" I asked. I had never heard that name before.

"The investigator I enlisted," Aimee explained. "He's done work for us before. He's a very good and discreet person with military experience. He sent in a report this morning."

"That's good news! What does he say?" I asked.

Aimee sighed. "He says that whoever is checking up on us pretty systematic and thorough. That it's through the government, but not through any official agency like the F.B.I."

"Military?"

Aimee nodded. "Most probably. Seems to be based in Washington."

To me, that meant the Pentagon. I wondered how good Mr. Voder's abilities would be to penetrate that fortress. I simply nodded to Aimee, digesting that information.

"He says that he should have more information by Friday."

I raised my eyes at this. If he could get information out of the Pentagon, then this P.I.'s resources must be pretty impressive.

"How much is this Mr. Voder costing us?" I asked, forgetting that it was actually Debbie's money that was being spent.

"His usual fee, plus a bonus. About a thousand a day, not including expenses."

I don't know why I asked; I didn't know what the going rates were for investigators nowadays, let alone people that seemed to be in the league as this Mr. Voder. I found myself getting embarrassed at having asked.

I decided to change the subject. "Where are Mary and Debbie?"

"Debbie is showing Mary the grounds. I believe they are at the stable."

"Stable? You have horses here?"

"Yes. Mary told us that she learned to ride as a child," Aimee said.

Hmmm. The things one learns. I once had a friend whose parents had a few horses, and he had taught me to ride, although that was quite a few years ago. I didn't know how to take care of horses, though. I was definitely no expert horseback rider.

"What do you think I should do?" I asked Aimee.

Aimee sighed a bit. "Master, you should ease your mind."

"Hmmm?" I asked. Aimee could be so cryptic sometimes.

"I've only known you a few weeks, Master, so forgive me for being too forward," Aimee said.

"Please, Aimee. I cannot be angry at you. Please tell me what's on your mind."

"Well, I have shared your mind on a few occasions. I think you realize that when we do this, it is a mutual effect. You share my thoughts as I share your thoughts at the same time."

Aimee looked at me to confirm this. I simply nodded. I had gotten that feeling already; Aimee wasn't telling me anything that I didn't already suspect.

"Well, Master, when I first met you, I sensed a 'goodness' in you. I've told you that many times: you are a good person, and I've known that almost since I first met you, but you worry that your behavior isn't entirely nice. It wasn't until I knew you later that a deep sense of ethics is what really drives you. Having Mary, and then Debbie, under your control, worries you."

I nodded at this.

"I sensed a change in your worries when you accepted me into this... family. You were happy. I gave myself to you willingly, and we both shared our minds... together."

"Yes, Aimee..." I said, agreeing with her.

"Jim, please. Let me finish."

This was the forceful Aimee that I had met on a few occasions. I allowed her to continue.

Aimee saw me signal her to continued. "As I've pointed out, our sharing was mutual. You have seen what is in my head... what is in my heart. I have seen the same in you."

Aimee paused. I waited. I knew she had something important to say.

"You wonder about the source of your emotions, Jim. Don't you?"

Aimee had hit the nail on the head. "Yes, dearest. Things seem to have happened quite fast..."

Aimee smiled at me. "What you have experienced isn't like what normally happens between people. There is a connection that is deeper than simple infatuation."

Infatuation? I could honestly say that "infatuation" wasn't something that had worried me, actually.

Aimee continued, "Like a mother and her child. Even a father and his child. They share something more than just what they see in each other. The child is a part of both the mother and the father--it was the act of love between the two that produced the child. The bond, therefore, is at a very deep level."

I could think of more than one instance where there was very little love between a parent and child, but I allowed Aimee to continue.

"Just like a child is a part of its parents, so are Mary and Debbie a part of you. You have spent time in their minds, and they have spent time in yours. You have shared your dreams with Mary! This isn't the infatuation that one gets when one sees somebody on a dance floor."

I looked at Aimee. She was making sense. "So, I love them because we've shared more than just verbal niceties?"

"Exactly," answered Aimee.

"What about you and me?"

"I needed you. When I first met you, I knew that somehow, you could fulfill a need that I had. I also knew that I could fulfill a need that you had. You sensed it, but were scared by it."

I don't know if I was scared, but we did seem to fit nicely together. I just nodded.

"Just like you and Mary fit; like you and Debbie fit; like Mary and Debbie fit. We all fit."

I shook my head. "No. There's a flaw there. You and Debbie were together long before either of you met me."

Aimee smiled. "We were together, but never really together until we met you."

I was confused, but let Aimee talk.

"Anyway, we're all a part of something bigger."

"How many more will we need in this screwy marriage, Aimee?"

Aimee smiled. "That's another of your worries, Master. You felt complete when it was you and Mary. Then Debbie came in, and then me. You are wondering where it will stop, right?"

YES! I simply nodded to Aimee.

"Do you feel like somebody else needs to be in this relationship, Master?" Aimee asked.