Beyond Dreamscape Part 1
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Beyond Dreamscape Part 2: Kaetlin, Jack, And The Driver free porn video
Beyond Dreamscape Part 2: Kaetlin, Jack, and the Driver
By Diana Kimberly Heche
"Where am I?"
The gentle faced red haired woman stood up at the sound of
Jack Wallace's voice. She smiled upon him kindly, but her
eyes could not conceal the concern.
"You're in a hospital room Jack, you had a small accident.
You fell off of the ladder when you were cleaning the
gutters and were out for awhile."
Jack Wallace lay in bed, he had raised his arms off of the
bed, opening and closing his fists while watching his
forearms bulge as he flexed his limbs.
"I'm a powerful one aren't I?" He said to no one in
particular, lifting the sheet to take further note of his
body. The body was strong and in tune from years of hard
exercise. "Yes, I am a powerful one indeed."
Jack turned his attention away from himself, studying the
red head standing beside his bed. Her hair was pulled into
a ponytail. She donned thick-framed cat eyeglasses. She
also wore a pair of bell-bottoms and long jean jacket coat
with fur around the collar, each piece of clothing far more
expensive than they looked. If she were anything like her
Los Angeles counterparts, she looked like she was taking
great pains to hide her beauty behind her hip "nerd-chic"
look.
"I should get the doctor," she said. His strange behavior
was throwing her off balance.
"Fuck the doctor. Just tell me, who are you? My daughter?
My wife? My sister? My secretary?" Jack asked.
"I'm Kaetlin. I'm your girlfriend." The pain from his lack
of recognition and aggressively changed demeanor showed
clearly on her face.
"Really? But you're, perhaps, what, twenty one, twenty-
two?" Jack began.
"Twenty-three." She corrected.
"And I'm like thirty, right? Maybe older because I seem to
have a pretty nice house, at least the dreamscape's version
of it was." He stopped to ponder his situation, "Am I
fucking you?"
Dreamscape? Fucking you? Kaetlin was growing more
uncomfortable with the conversation as it proceeded. She
wasn't sure what brain centers were knocked out of whack
from that fall, but she didn't like the end result. She
looked over her shoulder trying to catch the attention of a
doctor.
There was no one within earshot. She would have to go out
of the room and grab one. She decided not to let him see
how upset he was making her. After all it was Jack, not
her, who was lying in a hospital bed obviously suffering
from head trauma.
She answered him far more calmly than she felt, "You are
thirty-four Jack. And yes, we are intimate. Now... I'm
going to get the doctor." She turned quickly on her heels,
practically dashing out of the door.
In the background she heard Jack say to himself, "Cool. I'm
a fucking stud."
***
After meeting with their patient, Jack's doctors debated in
consultation quietly among themselves in the hallway. The
malpractice ramifications of releasing a man who didn't
have anything resembling a full memory back onto the
streets loomed large on all of their minds. The doctors
were wary of their patient's demands to be let go
immediately, especially coupled with his girlfriend's
concerns.
She had pointed out Jack's radical change in behavior,
leading the doctors to believe the head trauma was perhaps
more severe than they were seeing. Although the patient did
have a point (they had done the tests, there was nothing
physically wrong him). If he wanted to leave AMA (against
their medical advice), they couldn't stop him. Plus, there
was something oddly persuasive about him, even knowing they
were in the right. They all found it difficult to argue
with this charismatic man. They decided to stall his exit
while hedging their bets with further tests. Barring his
complete refusal, they could probably keep him another nine
or ten hours.
As the hallway conference went on, Kaetlin Cox sat against
the wall watching the enigmatic behavior of her boyfriend.
In tentative, exploratory manner, he had rubbed his entire
body with his hand. He now, at least as much as Kaetlin
could determine, was lightly squeezing his genitalia
underneath the sheets with obvious delight.
Kaetlin hadn't said a word to him since she went to
retrieve the doctors. He was always a man of confidence,
some would say ego, but that's what she found attractive in
him. However, he was never crude and rudely direct like he
was now. It was like he was consumed by something dark,
despite his being oddly... alluring. When she asked the
doctors about the altered personality quietly beforehand,
they couldn't assure her this would pass, however noted
they didn't see evidence of anything large enough to cause
a wholesale change in personality. At least in the long
term. Nevertheless, one of them gave her his card and told
her to call him if this behavior persists.
***
Despite his best efforts, Jack was not able to waltz right
out of the hospital once his tests were finished. He
apparently needed time just to get his motor skills in
sync. When he tried to walk, his motions were spastic,
slightly out of control as though his brain was firing the
wrong signals to his limbs. He moved around the room in a
jerky fashion for some while, cursing his every misstep.
Kaetlin had never seen anything like this, it was as if
Jack's puppet master had gone mad, it only alarmed her even
more. Not allowing her to recall the doctors, Jack was
insistent that it was just a "glitch" and he would work
through it. As good as his word, after some half an hour of
intense concentration, he began moving with far more
fluidity.
Kaetlin wondered to herself, what kind of person calls not
controlling their limbs a "glitch", giving it no further
thought than a cramp. Something was wrong here. Jack was
hiding something, but she couldn't imagine what it could
be.
Once in the passenger seat of the car, Jack became visibly
less agitated and his mood moved slowly toward near
giddiness. During the drive he watched everything race by
the window carefully. It was obvious, to even the most
casual of observers, that he was seeing this landscape for
the first time. If it were not for his disconcerting habit
of fondling his genitalia with palpable pleasure, he would
look the part of your average first time Miami tourist.
Sounding more reasonable and calm than in the hospital, he
turned and spoke to Kaetlin, "Sorry about all that back
there. The hospital, I mean, with the rude questions and
the doctors. This knock must have really done something
screwy," He grabbed the back of his head in emphasis. "I'm
a little sketchy on the memory, but things are starting to
feel right. I'll be fine soon enough. I just wanted to
apologize that's all.
Kaetlin nodded, but he didn't sound completely sincere. It
reminded Kaetlin of the plastic apologies offered by
politicians with their hand caught in the cookie jar by
their mother. This was not the way the Jack she knew, would
go about apologizing. His strong suit was making a self-
deprecating joke of even the harshest things, always doing
it in a boyish and charming fashion. Still, Kaetlin
decided, this was a welcome change from his behavior in the
hospital. Perhaps, as the doctor said, he would be normal
soon, this change of demeanor she was seeing was just the
first step.
"Kaetlin, sweetheart?" the endearment sounded hollow, "are
you in school, or do you have a job or something?"
"Actually Jack, I work for you."
"For me? Really? Also you're my girlfriend as well?
Interesting. Any way, that's really good to hear because I
have some business I need to take care of in Los Angeles
actually. I would love to take you out there with me." He
smiled warmly, seductively. Kaetlin wondered how he could
so casually mention flying to the West Coast for business,
while she was fairly certain he, at this point, had no idea
what he did for a living. This was Kaetlin decided, beyond
just a knock on the head. He was up to something. What was
it? Some sort of insurance fraud?
"Are you sure you're okay Jack?"
"Not as okay as I'm going to be in Los Angeles, darling."
Again, he similed the smile of warmth and seduction. While
it was definitely not one, which would have made it to the
face of pre-accident Jack. Kaetlin found she was afraid of
it, but at the same time she found the raw power of it
exciting. It was unnervingly magnetic. She, despite
herself, began to get the warm feeling of becoming turned
on.
***
He snored beside her, asleep for over an hour. Kaetlin sat
up, her body still wired with feeling. She wasn't even sure
how it happened so quickly. There was a knowingness, and a
compelling presence in Jack that seemed to have that made
it all happen so fast. One moment they were talking, the
next moment they were in bed together.
Of all the times they made love it had never been like
this. Jack was at once clumsy like a teenage virgin within
his own body, yet almost prescient in anticipating her
needs and desires. His lovemaking carried none of the
confident nonchalance usually associated with it. Every
touch she made to his body was greeted with near child like
wonder. When Jack plunged deeply into her, moaning and
shaking with his own orgasm, he did the unfathomable, and
kept attending to her until she had hers.
She exploded in orgasmic delight, even as his refractory
period was ending. He sat above her, hard-on in hand,
marveling at his own stiffness. They continued to slither
together in wet sweaty harmony until Jack, seeming to
understand her body as well as she guided his hard-on for
the last time creating a dual orgasm which made Kaetlin
scream in delight.
Afterward now watching him sleep, she quietly masturbated
herself again thinking about their sex. Whatever had gotten
into Jack, it was at the same time gentle, uncertain, firm,
and rough. But she had also seemed to feel... something...
when they were in closest contact of sex,. It was something
seductively and powerfully strong, although in an almost
savagely dark, frightening way. It was like making love to
a great beast, a beast that knew all the pleasures of
satisfying a woman.
***
The following morning Jack looked more confident and
relaxed. His jerky movements were completely gone, and he
possessed a sense of self-satisfaction.
Kaetlin was already downstairs on the outdoor patio reading
the paper when he came down. She began to hand the sports
section over. She knew how Jack needed to check up on his
hockey scores first thing, however he waved it off picking
up the front page. He read the paper with great interest,
absorbing every word of every article; much like last night
where he spent hours-absorbing CNN and the newscasts. His
only comment, other than the occasional non-specific sound
of surprise at certain events, was the enigmatic, "I've
been gone a long time."
Putting the paper down, he smiled at Kaetlin. "So,
honey..." Even after sleeping together, she was still
uncomfortable with the indifferent way he used endearments.
Jack must have picked up on this, because he started again
anew without it,
"Kaetlin, as I said last night, I know this is rough on
you. I greatly appreciate that a woman like you, who could
have any man, is willing to at least try for a awhile to
stick through this. So don't take this the wrong way,
but... explain to me exactly why I am a thirty-four year
old man, with a twenty-three year old girlfriend, and am
living here?"
He made a wave of his hand to indicate the considerable
size of his home, "While you're at it, maybe you can
explain why a man who appears to have gardeners and
housekeepers, is climbing on ladders risking his neck
cleaning out his own gutters?" The entire time he spoke, he
continued with his new, extremely distracting, habit, of
casually stroking his penis through his pants.
"You occasionally like to do things yourself. Like the
gutter. It goes with your fitness thing," she shrugged.
This conversation was surreal to her. She decided she was
going to skip over the part about their relationship
completely. Despite it being Jack sitting across from her,
memory loss or not, she couldn't shake the feeling she was
talking to a stranger.
"You're a senior vice president for a financial firm," she
continued, thinking about how to explain the rest of the
information delicately, but accurately, "your father runs
the company, owning something incredible like sixty percent
of the stock. When you go back to work you may catch vibes
that you were given this position because of your...
connections... but you are well qualified, and have proven
over time that... "
Jack held up his hand indicating for her to stop, "No need
to flatter me. I know how those positions work. In fact,
you wouldn't feel you had to tell me I was well qualified,
unless of course, I wasn't. So... I'm a figurehead of
sorts. A well paid vice president on the payroll because my
father runs and owns the company.
Fascinating. I must be a big fucking deal. Do I even bother
to show up every day? Probably not, nothing in this house
indicates work crosses my mind for a second. I don't even
own a computer, but I have a hell of a set of golf clubs.
Well this will make getting the time to make this LA trip a
breeze, he paused for a moment before saying, "not that I
give a shit about keeping this job one way or another any
way."
He stopped his musings, focusing on Kaetlin, "I hired you
right out of college didn't I? Never mind, if you're
twenty-three I had to have. I hope at least I was the one
who got partially used, and you seduced me into hiring you,
as much as the other way around. The other way around would
bore me. Nevertheless you look like a woman smart enough to
use those feminine charms of yours to nestle yourself into
the good life. If so, I respect you for it. If not, don't
tell me."
He sat quietly in thought for a long while. He seemed to
make an internal decision, and changed gears, "How fast can
you be ready to hit the Coast?"
Kaetlin was still stunned. She was more than disoriented by
Jack Wallace's new, detached honesty, and brutally self-
assessing mode of thinking. She wasn't sure she wanted to
be around this man, at the same time she was becoming
further drawn to him. There was something exciting about
his self-analysis; completely without pretension or self-
doubt, like an actor getting his mind around a character
for a film.
There was an undoubted power, inconceivable self-confidence
that surge within him. Here was a man not the least bit
concerned he didn't remember or understand any of the world
around him, as if he himself were bigger than any worldly
circumstance. Yet his lovemaking held an uncertainty,
despite its power, that Kaetlin found newly endearing.
She imagined for a moment this is what it was like for
those who fell in love with serial killers. She knew it was
at this point she should get off of this train that would
surely derail. Whatever plans he had in LA, could not be
for the good. Yet, all of the wavering protestations
forming in her mind were unable to come out of her mouth.
Instead she said, "I can be ready this afternoon."
Jack looked her up and down with his eyes, almost sensing
his new hold on her, before saying, "Wonderful."
***
Jack packed his bags upstairs in his bedroom. Socks,
underwear, a few shirts, and a few pants. That was it. The
single pair of well-heeled black shoes on his feet would go
with everything he had. For so many days of clothing, it
was going to be an incredibly sparsely packed bag.
"It's unbelievable how easy men have made it on themselves.
It used to take me two suitcases for a trip like this,"
Jack said to the room at large. "And this fucking thing,"
he said, groping his groin for the untold time that day,
"is great. But how they get anything done with this
weighty, hypersensitive thing always there is a mystery to
me. After awhile, you have to figure they become able to
ignore this constant rubbing feeling putting them on the
verge of getting hard all the time. Otherwise men would
fuck everything that moves," Jack laughed and said, "Wait,
they do try to fuck everything that moves."
He stopped in his tracks, listening for Kaetlin. She
apparently was still packing downstairs. Realizing he had
speaking aloud for quite some time, Jack admonished himself
and turned his speech inward. "This is not the Dreamscape,"
he thought to himself, "speech and thought are not the
same. You know the rules, it hasn't been that long."
Nevertheless for "Jack Wallace", who was no more than the
sprit of LM looking through Jack's stolen shell, it had
been a long time. What was merely a few years to those on
this side of death, was far longer in a plane where time
moved backward and forward at once, where fleeting moments
are years, years are fleeting moments.
Moreover Jack had quite a bit of work to do now that he was
alive again. Certainly he was planning to pay a visit to...
Lucy Maya... that impostor... to pay her in kind for
destroying her soul and nearly condemning her to drift in
pieces throughout eternity. However, he had much more in
store than that.
He looked down at the bulge in his pants. The very thought
of vengeance had made this new toy between his legs grow in
response; hate and sex tied into one stiff feeling. What
kind of animals were men, the former LM wondered in equal
parts amazement and disgust. He wasn't sure, but he knew he
was going to find Kaetlin, making sure this did not go to
waste.
***
Warm, but not Miami humid, Southern California. Kaetlin
still loved it here, even though she didn't see Los Angeles
through the same magical prism as she once did. She had
been here a few times with her father as a girl falling in
love with the mystique of it all - Hollywood, films, the
glamour. She discovered as she became older that this was
the stuff of make believe. Granted, being in the right
neighborhoods you could see a film star sitting in the
booth next to you while eating. However, you were more
likely to see a disillusioned want-to-be film star serving
you your breakfast, or dealing drugs on the street.
She and Jack had been in the city for a little over a week.
Jack had rented a fully furnished luxury apartment. Jack
left her largely to her own devices during the day while he
"took care of business". She asked him a couple of times
what he did when they were apart, however he would only
discuss it in the most vaguest of terms despite intense
prodding.
At first, Kaetlin suspected another woman, his sexual
appetite which was ravenous and continuous (they made love
several times a day). He never came back to her smelling of
another woman or a fresh shower. She thought briefly that
perhaps he was involved in shady dealings, although being
associated with such actions were far too inconsistent,
extremely difficult, with his memory loss. Kaetlin was
fairly certain the memory loss could be no act.
Having sorted these issues in her mind, she became more
relaxed. As with all things that begin feeling odd, the
strangeness wore off, as they became more routine. After
awhile, Kaetlin felt as if this was almost normal. He gave
her a credit card in her name, telling her to entertain
herself in any way she saw fit, which she was able to do
easily. With her days occupied she obsessed less over his.
Two weeks to the day after they arrived, this routine
changed. Jack came home, announcing an old friend of his
was arriving from out of town and would be staying with
them for a short while.
Kaetlin greeted this latest pronouncement with great
reservations.
"An old friend?" Kaetlin asked. This revelation made her
vary wary, "how is it that you can remember an old friend,
but not your damn middle name?" She had become agitated.
"My middle name's Albert, isn't it? I'm not really sure why
I remember my old buddy though, the brain being such a
funny thing and all."
Jack shrugged off her concerns as he did them all. He
reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a cold slice
of pizza. Kaetlin didn't cook, so all prepared food in the
rental apartment was takeout or delivery.
"That says nothing Jack. And you know it. Where did you
meet this guy? I mean... this time... here in LA?"
"Well originally I met him in LA, but he doesn't live here
now. He's in prison, or more accurately, getting out of
prison. Tomorrow. I'm going to meet him at the bus station.
To keep him out of the half way house and such. I had to
hire him on as a driver, personal assistant, and so on. The
parole board jumped at it. I was surprised at how far my
name... dad's name it turns out... goes."
Kaetlin was upset and pulled him back on track, "Wait,
wait, wait. You said nothing about meeting a prisoner when
we came down here, no less having one stay with us. I don't
know if I can deal with this."
Jack was smiling his enigmatically charming smile. Once
again Kaetlin was swept up in the serial killer
girlfriend's feeling of being willing bound to someone
exciting, passionate but dangerously unknown.
"Don't worry," Jack said, "he was in for a white collar
crime."
Of course he was, Kaetlin thought as she sighed with
relief. It was embezzlement, fraud or something equally
non-violent. Recent strange behavior or not, what other
kind of criminal could someone of Jack's ilk know anyway?
"So what did he do to land him in prison... this white-
collar crime? Tax evasion? Fraud? Why are we putting him
up?"
Jack finished chewing his mouthful before delivering the
punch line, "Well, he went in because he shot... an old
friend of mine through the chest. I figured we'd put him up
for a while because I was the one who convinced him to do
it. Even more than that," Jack smile wickedly, "I can say
with complete earnestness, he made me the man I am today."
Kaetlin watched him for reaction. Surely he was kidding. He
had to be.
***
While LM ran things, Lucy Maya had never been in a bus
station. LM was fairly certain that the previous owner of
this current body, Jack Wallace the blue blood, had never
been in one either. Taking note of the neighborhood this
particular Greyhound station was in, it was no wonder why.
But here they were.
LM/Jack watched Arnie Williamson step off of the type of
vehicle he formerly held a license to drive. The Presidency
may differ from prison in every way possible, but they
obviously both aged a man just as fast. Arnie at once
struck Jack as having grown ultimately defiant yet quietly
broken. This was a man who had obviously suffered the worse
prison had to offer, only pure survival allowed him to
build his outward shield of bold resistance he really
didn't feel. Jack noted with some irony, that Arnie's
spirit had been as shattered figuratively, as his had been
literally.
Although Arnie was given a description of Jack, he wasn't
exactly sure who he was looking for, so Jack approached him
to shake hands. Arnie at once seemed glad almost in awe of
Jack's presence. It was through Arnie's solemn eyes that
reminded Jack exactly what he was, a spirit of a woman once
twice dead, returned in the body of a man.
Arnie whispered tentatively, "Lucy"?
"No, not Lucy. I don't belong to that name any longer. Nor
do I allow myself to think in those terms. Let's get this
straight, Lucy is the woman with a hijacked body, living a
life that rightfully should have been mine. I am," he bowed
theatrically, "Jack Wallace. I am a product of extreme
wealth whose only job in life is to do just barely enough
to keep my father off of my back. I have more money than I
can imagine spending, and no one to account to. I am,
perfect for what lies ahead Mr. Williamson."
The sun caught the former bus driver's round spectacles,
making it look for a moment as if his eyes sparkled upon
hearing the revelation.
"That is why it made perfect sense that, you as a former
bus driver, and I, being all about giving people a second
chance at life, came to this agreement that you would drive
me around town. Just what the parole board loves to hear -
gainful employment."
"Now," Jack said placing his hand between Arnie's shoulder
blades, "Let's get you a real suit, and maybe a steak. I'm
sure prison grub is shit."
***
Despite himself, Arnie ate his streak greedily. Jack had
been right, prison grub is shit and it had been years since
he had a good meal. In fact, when Arnie was a free man
earning bus driver's wages, never had a steak quite like
this.
Arnie watched his new employer. Even knowing what (and who)
he was. Jack Wallace was an odd collection of attributes.
Jack was obviously a very fit, powerfully built man, in the
easy way of gyms, running and perhaps the occasional manual
labor when he fancied it. His body did not have a
ruggedness to it. His manner was easy going, but
nevertheless contrived. He had the occasional, but
definitive female affectations of his current owner, which
simply came across as being somewhat effeminate as opposed
to what it really was, female. Nevertheless because of his
well manicured, obvious cultured looks and clothing, Arnie
was certain much of Jack's behavior was being contributed
to his upper class pampered life.
But Jack also had the underlying, energy of the
afterlife... not just the afterlife, but something else,
something stronger... radiating from him. It was magnetic
almost certainly couldn't be missed, even by those who
didn't know of his origins. Arnie wondered how this was
interpreted by those who happened across Jack's path.
Intense sexual attraction maybe? Or perhaps, charisma - the
kind which makes men go to war and down poison drinks to
please their leaders? However they interpreted it, Arnie
could feel it now, as he felt it in his dreams so long ago.
This was the power, which made him shoot a woman in the
chest and give up his own soul to bring LM in the form of
another back into this world.
As Arnie listened to Jack speak, he realized Jack didn't
just have a simple plan of destroying the invader of his
old body and have her meet the eternal tortures. Jack had a
long thought through plan, which would wreak havoc on her
and all those who protected her.
The small voice of reason in the back of Arnie's mind told
him that what Jack had in mind was going way too far, but
he was long past listening to the voice in the back of his
head. He was enslaved. With a creeping smile, he let the
words flow over him willingly allowing himself to get
pulled into Jack's scheme. All the way in.
[To be continued]
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