Samirah's World Of Amazons

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Here is a story containing metaphysical intrigue, out-of-body travel to planets in other galaxies, and an apparent real Central Mountains Republic (land of Amazons).

But here is the biggest intrigue of all... it seems to involve the System Operator of this web-site, Alex and involves a planet where he had a number of past lives on. He "experienced" the below in only one night. An apparent "out-of-body" excursion of some sort, many months expired while he visited that planet yet he experienced it all in one night's sleep

Samirah's Central Mountains Republic

I woke up slowly, with a buzzing sound and cataleptic, unable to move. I just had one hell of a weird dream! Or was it? Had I been to a real place and a real decision-making meeting? A meeting that was held in heavenly... uh... spheres... for lack of a better term?

I heard a voice, male, a deep, soothing and comforting voice...
"... Now lay there, stay relaxed. Keep your eyes closed. Lift a finger of your right hand when you can..."

The buzzing and hissing slowly subsided. The dead-numb feeling was leaving, bringing in its wake a nice tingling. Finally, my effort to raise one of my right-hand's fingers was successful.

"Quickly..." began a soft female voice, "Tell us what happened, what you saw and what was said."
"Yes, it is important to tell us now, or else you will forget..."

I did remember...
I began to tell my two Hosts what happened. I began to realize the two were Psychiatrists/Hypnotists involved in... my case.
I said:
"I was in a place of exquisite peace and beauty! Something like nature all around. We were discussing about what I wanted to do with the opportunity that had arose."
"Who is the "we"?" Asked the male Doctor.
"Three radiant beings... like Angels but... without the wings... well, that's just a stereotype..."
"Please do NOT analyze" insisted the female Doctor gently, "That is left-brain interference. We will analyze later."
I continued, "They said I could choose... Continue with the life among the society I found so unbearable, or, trade physical incarnations with the man who finds life in his society unbearable... But whose society has all the things I like! It was the society of my life-long imagination! My day-dreams! I had no idea it was real! But if I went to the new society, I would never see my family again... until we meet after physical incarnations."
The male Doctor asked, "Was this other person, this other man, willing to make the trade?"
"Yes" I replied, "I was informed he had already decided and was merely waiting for someone willing to trade and whose Higher Self agreed to the trade. They also assured me that he is a well evolved soul, higher than my level, and would be as nice or even nicer to my Parents and Siblings as I ever was. My Parents would not notice the difference except for a pleasingly better attitude toward life and especially, society."
The female Doctor asked, "Was any reason given why you, and this other man by the way, had such vivid imaginations of a land they had never seen?"
I replied, "I was informed it was merely past-life memories surfacing in the form of imagination, and a form of soul-based home-sickness. And the reason for the other man having a series of past lives in my society, and me having a series of past lives in his society, is due to an apparent mistake in the birthing process from the astral side. Though this kind of mistake is rare, every once in a millennium, or less, it happens. Originally, I was supposed to be born in the society I had imagined about all my life, and the other man was supposed to be born in my society. After the mistake had occurred, both our Higher Selves agreed to let it go. We could still benefit from the different incarnation experience. But as time went on and both of us grew up and became adults, the friction between what both of us were used to and the very different society we found both ourselves in became intolerably great. Plus both our souls were just plain homesick. Apparently he, as I, became recluses, hating to mingle with any kind of societal function, be it job, or something that most people consider enjoyable such as parties or going to the mall or a populated park. Both of us lived as far in the wildernesses of our respective worlds as possible and tried to work at home, so we would not have commute to a job. If either of us went out, it was to go to a remote wilderness and hike endlessly. After a time, our Higher Selves realized we were stagnant. We were gaining nothing in our incarnation. No karmic debts were being taken care of, and nothing learned. If anything, I, anyway (I don't know about the other man), accrued more karmic debt by being occasionally cruel to people, though in a light way, such was my repulsion of society. I had not successfully figured out how to live way out in the boonies and I was becoming impatient and a little mean."
"This is very good!" encouraged the lady Doctor, "Please continue!"
I continued, "The other man, with his somewhat more evolved soul and living in a society that was pretty well advanced in their understanding of metaphysical issues, initiated an investigation into himself. He began seeing Psychiatrists, getting hypnotized and investigating his past lives. Thanks to his well evolved soul, he quickly mastered meditation and out-of-body excursions to find information. He accessed his Akashic records, met with Spirit Guides and communicated with his own Higher Self. His Higher Self and Guides agreed, if a willing person, OR, better yet, if a person with a similar but opposite mistake in birth could be found, and was willing, that other man's soul would be allowed to trade physical incarnations with the other willing soul.
It was not long until my own Higher Self received the call that traveled the entire Universe. The situation was near perfect. Both the other man and I had been born at the same time as far as physical-plane-time is concerned. I had been born in his society, and he had been born in my home-land society.
So, I had to decide. I actually met with this other man. He was there during his conscious out-of-body projection, while I was there during a dream-state. It took me what seemed like days in this high level spiritual plane to decide. My Guides said take your time. What seems like days is only a few seconds on the physical-plane.
My Higher Self advised that my Karmic debts, and they were aplenty, could begin to be paid if I was back in my own familiar society. And then, the clincher...
By beloved Samirah was already there, in my society! Her Higher Self agreed to an unusual arrangement of her own..."
"Who is Samirah?" Asked the lady Doctor.

"Samirah", I began, hesitating while my analytical left brain sort of like went "Tch, tch, tch! Gibberish and utter nonsense!" But I put down my "left-brain", a problem I have always had in hypnosis, and went with the flow of spirit-memories of the fantastic heavenly meeting coming from my "right-brain". I continued...
"Samirah... Used to be a spirit attachment..."
"Hmmm!" went the male Doctor. "I see..." went the lady Doctor. "Very well! Continue!" Urged the lady Doctor gently.

I was continuing to wake up. Indeed the memories were beginning to fade and details fused and hazy. My body felt different. I was disoriented but clearly felt different. One fact was mounted firmly in my knowing: The "trade"...
Was complete...
But I continued, "About nine years ago, with my career gone and wasting my life away with a job that consisted of moving rental cars at an airport, I suddenly became interested in Middle East music and culture. I suddenly had a taste for the way Islamic women dressed. Before, I thought those women were nuts! To dress so covered in stifling desert-heat was an action I could only interpret as crass insanity! But then, suddenly, I knew why they did it! I understood and even approved, whole heartedly! The airport had a lot of them... the Middle Eastern women in their Islamic clothing.
My interest in the Middle East began within days of when some guy from Iran, for some reason, started talking to me. He also worked for the rental car company at the airport. He seemed to be always kind of grumpy. I don't know why he singled me out from the other Americans; perhaps because I never mingled with them... no more than he did! Anyway, he found out I used to be an electronic technician. After some talk, he decided he was going to bring a car stereo to my house for me to look at tomorrow, a Saturday.
That night, a Friday night, Desert Storm broke out. Desert Storm is a war the country I came from in that society executed against a country in the Middle East. It was not his country, Iran, but it must have concerned him. I don't know, it had something to do with it. I waited and waited on Saturday but he never came. He never called either, though I gave him my telephone number if he got lost. And on Monday, he was not at the rental car company. He was never seen again. So I guess the war somehow caused him to take off. But he stuck in my mind. And not long after that, I had a sudden urge to find and buy a tape or record of authentic Middle Eastern music.
This "Middle Eastern effect" continued to develop and grow in me. Using my art skills, I put up a comic on my art-BBS that I ran (one of my many projects to attempt making a living from home) about a brash young and sexy lady learning to accept Islamic clothing.
I found Middle Eastern stores and bought more music, I tried lamb, I got an English Quran, I began learning Arabic... I even changed. I began wearing sleeveless t-shirts or tank-tops with pictures I painted of Islamicly dressed ladies on them. I used t-shirt transfer paper for this. I had always wore long-sleeved shirts before, even in Florida's stifling heat. My Parents began to wonder what was up! They said "you're possessed!"
I wrote stories of love affairs with Islamic-like women, and I practically fell in love with the paintings of them I made...
At last I decided to find a Psychiatrist. My strange set of attitudes all my life, my unusual and strange imagination, yet not insane at all, my repulsion at society and now, this Middle Eastern thing, got me thinking what's up with me!"
"So that is when you began your studies and journey inward?" asked the male Doctor.
"Yes!" I replied, "After describing the symptoms to the Psychiatrist, he decided to use hypnosis on me. I go under hypnosis fairly well, but have trouble getting my left-brain to let go. I question everything even within the hypnotic state. My analytical and disbelieving left-brain caused much interference, but we managed to fish the answers out of me. I remember it well...
The Psychiatrist hypnotized me and directed I visualize a sphere of White Light around me... then move to just out side the sphere... and see if anybody or anything was still in there!... There was! But I was disbelieving! I said I did not see anybody there. It took further hypnosis and tutoring from the Psychiatrist to get me to just let go and report every single thing that comes in response to his visualizations and questions, no matter how bizarre.
We formed the sphere of White Light again and I visualized myself stepping out of it... and he began to direct questions to what I seemed to imagine the fearfully huddling entity within..."
"What did you all find out?" Asked the male Doctor excitedly.
I replied, "We asked the entity's name... Somria or Someria I thought I heard. Since then, I found out a common Arab Woman's name is Samirah. That is typical of the not quite 100 percent transfer of the sound of a bit of information during hypnosis. We found out the entity was female. She was a young Iranian lady who was walking down a dusty desert trail, possibly with friends, when Iraqi shelling began. She was killed in either a conventional bomb attack or chemical attack. It was about early 1980s, during the earlier years of the Iran-Iraq war."
The male Doctor commented, "Your society did indeed seem to have many wars! Well, continue."
I continued, "It took many sessions battling with my intrusive left-brain to get even basic information. The Psychiatrist recommended books by famous authors about past-lives and spirit attachments for me to read. This gave me a reference and the feeling that I am not alone with this. Spirit attachments occur frequently. They are just people... without a physical body that we can see, hear or touch. There is a White Light inviting them, but they do not enter for they are afraid someone is waiting there to throw them in hell. So they wander aimlessly on the earth's physical plane. In some cases, their vibration is low, then we can just barely see them... the ghost phenomenon!
Some of these people without physical bodies find out, by trial and error, that they can merge or draw into a physically living person's auric field. In this way, they become partially incarnated into that unsuspecting person's body. The great majority of spirit attachments are accomplished with non-evil intent. Those people just want security or even wish to "hide". Some may even like or love the person they are attaching to. When out of a physical body, one can more easily see the true nature of someone. And with the millions of loose souls out there, it is just a matter of time before one is drawn to you. Often, they can not attach. If the physically living person's auric field is healthy, brought about by being happy and content, the bodiless person can only hang around. But if the physically alive person is depressed, unhappy or chronically discontent, their auric field is low and the bodiless person can move in.
And that is essentially what happened to me. Airports abound with physically bodiless people. They can ride planes undetected. Apparently this Samirah, was following the Iranian guy around. Then, when he spoke to me, Samirah, I guess, found something she liked about me. I was indeed consistently unhappy at the time, even depressed. I yearned for a true love. I yearned for any love! After the Iranian fellow disappeared, it seems, I had a friend... just... I could not see her! Unknown to me, when I drove home from the airport that Friday evening, I brought someone home!"
"Hmmm!" commented the male Doctor, "Most intriguing! Please continue, you're doing great!"
I continued, "Indeed, after reading a book about spirit attachments by a famous author, the next night, spooky things happened at my house. I had an Arabic tambourine. I heard it get struck. I thought it had fallen. But it was still on its shelf. I also had a dumbek, an Arabic goblet-drum. I heard it get struck. Door knobs turned and doors closed or opened. And one of my favorite paintings of an Islamicly dressed lady had imparted to it, a hazy image of someone... from a distance, it looked like the silhouette of an Islamic lady with her head-dress. Indeed, in addition, the book about spirit attachments I read said that one sign you have a spirit attachment is an intense reaction to reading that very book, or the starting up of spooky effects. Indeed, indeed!"
"Did you have any symptoms like, lack of energy? Indecisiveness? Unexplained depressions or panic attacks?" asked the lady Doctor.
I replied, "As to depression, I was depressed so much my self, I would not have noticed any change. However, about the time I became interested in the Middle East, I began ingesting a lot of caffeine! Both in drinks and in pill form. Much later, just recently, about a few months ago, my need for caffeine suddenly dropped. I think that is the time Samirah finally left my energy field. I remember feeling unexplainably sad a few days, as if somebody dear to me had left."
"Did you ever try to compel her to leave and go into the Light?" asked the male Doctor.
I replied, "My Psychiatrist did attempt a depossession, but after the session, I felt so sad, unexplainably so, as if I kicked out a dear friend."

The two Psychiatrists with me murmured among themselves...
The male Doctor said, "Yes, I have heard of this. From time to time, a host actually does not wish to compel his or her attached spirit to leave. Though unseen, there may be love involved."
The lady Doctor answered, "That's right, it can not be forced. If they are not ready to separate, a depossession will quite probably fail. When the invading entity loves the host, and the host feels this love and loves back, it is just like two physically alive people who love each other. It's a pity, in a way. Staying together causes the physically alive host to feel tired all the time... sometimes... But, not in your case?"
I replied, "I noticed no appreciable difference in my health or energy from before Samirah attached to after. Just... I became a caffeine addict. She must have drank a lot of coffee while in her physical body in Iran."
"Yes, I would tend to agree," agreed the male Doctor, "A spirit attachment will impart to the physical host, the attachment's addictions."

I concluded by saying, "Over all, the only effects Samirah seem to have on me is greatly increased use of caffeine, and a sudden taste for things Middle Eastern, especially the music... and a longing for a Middle Eastern lady friend! My art suddenly turned from naked muscle women to Islamicly dressed ladies... of fair size and physical conditioning still, I would add, but they were very covered up! I was practically in love with the ladies in my paintings. I even scanned some and placed on my bbs, although I don't think those guys that log on to gawk at nudity are interested... but after scanning, I am able to print out a portrait sized copy of the paintings and put in a frame... just like you would do portraits of relatives! I guard the original paintings carefully. But the copies are easily replaceable. If one gets destroyed accidentally, I just print out another. I often hold the portrait of her in my lap and next to my heart... I love her so..."

The two Psychiatrists seemed touched by this as they stood there silent a minute. Finally, the lady Psychiatrist asked, "Is there anything else you can tell us about Samirah? You say she did finally left you? How do you know? Was it during a depossession?"
I replied, "No, not a depossession. After the saddening effects of the last one, I did not try that again. If she left, it was out of concern and love for me. Just suddenly one morning, I noticed the usual amount of caffeine was suddenly too much! Wow! I became wide-eyed and nervous! I scurried around and had the shakes bad. I decided after that to not use as much caffeine to wake up in the mornings. The next morning, I used one-third the caffeine as before. That much smaller amount woke me up just fine!"
"Wow!" commented the male Doctor, "Excellent demonstration of the effects of an attached spirit's addiction! Now, she just left? No depossession required?"
I answered, "Nope! Just suddenly one morning I needed much less caffeine and that is the way it has been since. Also, for a few days, I felt something like sad, as if someone I loved had left. But I also had the feeling that she would not be gone forever."

The lady Doctor commented, "One solution I have seen often works when the possessing spirit and the host love each other, is to convince the possessing spirit of the freedom of choice they have, and the possibility that they can go into the Light, then return in their higher vibrational form as an Apprentice Personal-Spirit-Guide for the one they love. Then when the physical incarnation of the one loved is over, she will be waiting to take the one she loves by the hand to..."

I sat there with my eyes closed, in some kind of reclining sofa or bed, ever more awake, taking it easy. I could see through my eyelids the room was darkened quite a bit. I waited for the lady Doctor to complete her sentence... until I heard a sniffle...

"Oh come come" the male Doctor said as I heard him pull, perhaps a tissue, and give it to the lady Doctor, "You're going to have us all wet-eyed if you keep that up! I think we should guide this young man out of it now and help him get acquainted with his new home!"
"Okay, okay" the lady Doctor sniffed, "I just wanted to see if he could tell us... after all, you did have a heavenly meeting of some sort. I wonder if you knew more about Samirah. How much did you find out during hypnosis, was any of it confirmed during your heavenly meeting, and what did happen to her?"
I replied, "Well, the Angels or Guides with that other man and I did not go into Samirah that much except to say she "walked in" to the body of a young lady in the society I should have been born into with. The spirit of that young lady gave up the physical incarnation to work off her karmic debt by working with souls trapped in... in... what did they say now... I'm already forgetting... something like the lower... plane... or something..."
"The lower astral plane?" The lady Doctor helped me remember.
"Yes, that's it! The lower astral-plane. The Guides told me it is something like the hell Christians... a type of religion in my society... believe in. Except it is not permanent like the Christians believe. But the self-tortured souls there need help in getting out. Its terrible spiritual work to do, very yucky, filthy and even scary, but someone's got to do it. So whomever this lady was, she volunteered, and gave up her physical body for Samirah to have. So now, as we speak, Samirah is physically alive again, in my society! Anyway, as I said, that was the clincher! That tipped the scales of my indecisiveness! I decided to let the other man have my body in that society I don't like, and I go into his... Has it... been done yet? Who are you two? Am I... really here?"
"Okay young man," the male Doctor began, gently and kindly, "just a couple more questions... since according to you, your decision to do this was made based on the fact Samirah could be... where you should be...
Before you forget, is there any more general information on Samirah you can give? You say she was killed in a war. As a soldier? A citizen? How did she find you? Were you able to, in hypnosis, get her to speak from your body? Like, in channeling?"
I replied, "Not directly. The way I learned to do it, is ask a question of her, then listen to my thoughts. The very first thought-answer that pops in, go with that. I learned to do that even on my own. I would sit quietly with her portrait I painted in my lap, holding her... or it that is... close to my heart. I would ask her questions. I got answers that made sense very often!
Any way, she was killed as a citizen. In that Middle East country, they don't let women fight as soldiers..."
The lady Doctor interjected, "I wonder if their enemy ties one hand behind their back too?"
I replied, giggling a bit, "If you mean by that does their enemy not allow women soldiers as well, yes, that is true. Iran and Iraq are both Middle Eastern Countries and both do not allow women to be soldiers.
Anyway, Samirah and a few of her friends were killed in some kind of attack that missed its mark. Maybe it was conventional, maybe it was chemical. Iraq did bomb with chemical bombs. As much as I could tell, Samirah wandered about, possibly returned to her home. When she realized she was physically dead, she was of course upset, and feared being thrown into hell. Later, she followed that man I talked to at the airport, possibly a brother, cousin, I don't know who, first to France, then to United States and Orlando International Airport where I worked with the rental car company. And that is where she eventually found me. She said she was comforted by my gentle spirit. She saw how much I needed to be loved by a woman, and how much I wanted to love a special woman, and other things about me perhaps none of us physically alive can see, and so followed me home. Apparently she could just walk past the guards, and past the ticket counters, and follow a group of people as they headed down the chute to the airplane. And in that way, she flew first to France, lived there a while, then came to United States."
"Excellent, excellent!" exclaimed the male Doctor softly. "And now, before we bring you out of it, is there any final advice or counsel the Guides gave you before sending you here?"
I replied, "The other man himself told me, two physically alive Healers would help me get oriented as well as assistance from that society's official establishments; I guess he meant the government. The Guides told me I would quickly get used to the new society, after all, it is the society I spent several past lives in and is the society I am used to, and should have been born into with in first place. And they said look for Samirah, she will still go by that name. And they told me, I can go by my name, Alex, when I get back to my society as well."
"Okay! All right then!" announced the male Doctor, "I think we have as much as we can get from this. Time to bring you out of it, and show you around. First, what do you feel, feel that is, your name is now?"
I replied, "Al... Ste... Steve. No, Alex. I... used to be, or still am? Called Steve?"
"Good!" replied the male Doctor, "That was just a little test. You will find that much of what you need to know for daily living will be supplied by your physical brain. We'll explain more later. Right now though, I want you to lie calmly and listen to the count...
I am going to count down from ten to one. On the count of one, you will awake feeling refreshed and energized! All your five senses will function perfectly, brilliantly and beautifully. You will be fully alert and ready to explore your new, and rightful, home! Are you ready?"
"Yes" I replied as I settled in. I was pretty much used to this counting business of hypnosis from the Psychiatrist of the society I... apparently left..."
"Okay now..." began the male Doctor softly, "I will begin counting, now...
Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Remember, when I count down to one, you will awake feeling refreshed and energized! All your five senses will function perfectly, brilliantly and beautifully. You will be fully alert and ready to explore your new, and rightful, home!
Six... Five... Four... Three... Two... ONE! Wake UP. WAKE UP! You are awake and feeling GREAT!"
I opened my eyes for the first time to my new world... and wow! The first thing I saw!...

Just like in my imagination as expressed through my art and stories, the two Doctors...
Were you expecting someone in white smocks or perhaps, office attire? (Since we are dealing with Psychiatrists here, the stereotype sometimes is just conservative office attire.)
First my eyes were drawn to the woman, then the man, then back to the woman!
The only thing between over seven feet of powerful athletic woman and the air was a black thong patch over her genital! Oh and she did have a necklace and ear-rings. But that was it! She had mid-length smooth flowing blond hair framing a strong but kind face. Her hair draped about her powerful shoulders with well developed deltoid muscles. Her firm breasts jutted way out, on a foundation of well developed pectoral muscles underneath. The sum of big chest muscles with ample breasts on top gave her an awesome breast-build.

The man was a pillar of muscle as well. The woman was every bit as big and powerful as he, with legs clearly larger and more powerful than his. They both had legs of steel-cable muscle. He had a rippling chest, great arms, and a tummy, like hers, that could be used as a washing board! He was separated from the air only by a patch of cloth that barely contained his... male genital... when relaxed.

Then... then... I noticed myself!
Looking down, I could see my own tummy, bumpy with bulging abs. I also saw two huge and powerful legs, and bikini pants, sort of like a very brief bathing suit.
The office or room was dark, lit by a single candle behind me. I began to think, did my imagination miss the mark? I imagined them with solar-energy. Do they live primitively with candles?

The nearly naked muscle-lady Doctor stepped forward to help me from the couch. I was a bit wobbly as I stood up. She held me secure, her grip was like a vice. Her powerful build was a secure source of stability as I regained my footing.

"Let me bring up the lights a little" said the male Doctor as he turned a knob on the wall. Electric lights, up to then completely off, came on gradually to a dim level. He said, "We'll leave the lights at that level for a few minutes."
"I started to think you all only had candles" I laughed, nervously.
"Oh no," replied the male Doctor, "But we find the steady, good vibrational rate of the light of a candle to be extremely conducive to hypnosis and out-of-body excursions."

"Come over here," the lady Doctor said as she led me, "Get to know your new body..."
She led me to a full length mirror. I took one look at that sight of muscular fitness in brief bikini panties and exclaimed, without thinking, "Good heavens! I'm a knock-out! ... Whoops..."
"Oh that's quite all right! You are a knock-out!"

As I spent a good deal of time admiring myself, the male Doctor turned up the lights more.

"Let us now introduce him to the man he used to be in so far as other people can see are concerned, and present him with some decisions on what to do from here..." announced the male Doctor as he gradually set the lights on full brightness. He walked over behind the couch and blew out the candle. We left that windowless room to another room with windows brilliantly lit by the light of day, about two in the afternoon.

"So you were an artist, and I gather, you painted a lot about your so called, imaginary, society and the people there..." the male Doctor stated, "Okay, now take a look at these..."

I walked over to a table with many print-outs of copies of paintings.
"These are the paintings your body did while occupied by Steve. Behold..."

I gazed upon the workings of a man's imagination that was the exact, diametric opposite of my own!
His paintings depicted huge cars with big engines that would whisk one any where effortlessly without pedaling and in home-like comfort, complete with stereo. Other paintings depicted the keeping of carnivorous, sometimes ferocious animals as pets.
The male Doctor commented, "These ferocious pets-paintings of his made Steve's Parents wonder if he was somehow mentally unwell. Nobody here keeps anything carnivorous, let alone ferocious. In the country, animals and people who eat meat are considered incarnated demons and are feared. In this more sophisticated Central Capital, the "big city", carnivores are merely avoided. Relegated to the forest wilderness to keep nature's balance, anything carnivorous has no place in the city!"

The first thought that entered my mind was "large dogs", especially the notorious ones like rotweilers and German shepherd. I have always dreamed of a world devoid of these neighborhood menaces. And now, as it became clearer and clearer I was... here... in my land, my society, it would now be so! Oh I couldn't wait! No more attacks from big dogs! I could walk anywhere, bicycle, go to parks, beaches and so on and never again fear being chewed up!

Steve's paintings of large, luxurious cars with engines that go without pedaling looked surreal, but pretty much accurate. Of course the minor details were all wrong, but Steve's paintings did indeed accurately portray the automobile as we know it.

Steve's women were note-worthy. He depicted women as small, frail, much more dressed than that lady Doctor was certainly, and in some paintings, clinging to a huge man as if for their very sustenance.
"Yes" I thought to myself, "The soul which is Steve, now in my body back in that society, is going to enjoy it there.
And I am going to enjoy it here!"

Suddenly it dawned on me, there's a window near... Time for a look-see at my new land! I breezed over for a peek outside, but I could not quite figure out the Venetian-blinds-like mechanism...

"Oh here..." said the male Doctor, "pull them up like this..."
He pulled a string to roll up something like Venetian blinds so I could have an unobstructed view out the window.

We were three stories up. The window overlooked a street. I examined the street closely. Streaking along were small, torpedo looking cars most with three wheels. Some had four wheels. Many had tinted windshields so I could not see in them. But there came a somewhat large one... It had four people inside pedaling away. They were skimpily dressed and looked like athletes.

I strained my eyes for people walking... A couple came into view from under obstructing trees... About two square inches from naked! Both were males wearing what we would call very skimpy g-strings. I continued to scan the visible portions of the street. The trees did obscure much. Wow! Three women strolled into view. Hair ranging from yellow-blond to flesh blond was the only clothing for two of them. The third wore a patch over her genital similar to the lady Doctor in the office with me! The other two were buck naked! And in the public! "Yep!" I thought to myself, "This is my society!"

I asked "Is the way they are dressed down there, usual for here?"
"Yes," replied the lady Doctor, "Like Andrew here and myself, during the warm seasons, we like that healthful exposure of our skin to nature's healing energy flows!"
"WOW!" I exclaimed.

"And a wow for you too!" announced the male Doctor, apparently named Andrew, "why, but a few minutes ago, you, when you were still Steve, were complaining of the women who wear nothing. And you, as Steve, often complained of no covering clothes available at all in stores during the warmer seasons. All stores have are bikinis, thongs, g-strings, skimpy t-shirts. Oh yes, there are those stores catering to that new trend among the Betaqh Race folks, those dark skinned people. Some of our Taqh Race does it too. But mostly it is the Betaqh Race. Many of them are dressing in long flowing robes. But Steve did not want that kind of extremism. He just wanted something... I guess in between! But there is just nothing available."

"Hmm" I went to myself, "Betaqh Race... sounds a bit familiar..."
But I was too excited with all that was going on to give it further thought.

So went my first few minutes in a world that just a few hours ago, was but an imaginary location that existed only in my mind, paintings and stories.

Doctors Andrew White-Owl and Lisa Silver-Cloud continued long introductory, almost like lectures, for the next couple hours. We poured through many photos, watched some videos (which were kept on tiny cubes with several dozen pins on them) and even used a computer that accessed their version of an extremely advanced Internet.

I was given many tests, of aptitude and general skills. More Doctors and Researchers came in. As it turned out, Steve started out paying the two Psychiatrists for their services, but as Steve's case was explored, the fact that an "astral birthing mistake" had occurred intrigued them and their colleagues. Steve became the subject of research by the College Of Metaphysics at the University Of Central Capital. From that point on, Steve did not have to pay anything. And so, here I was, and I therefore, did not have to pay anything either.

The building we were in was within the vastness of the Central Capital, the capital city of a nation they call Shasheer. In my imagination, I called it "Central Mountains Republic". But my imagination hit the nail on the head for the name of the capital city, Central Capital. Lucky guess, I guess!

The building we were in was a healing center, with many different healing services. Metaphysics and holistic healing are highly advanced here and used extensively. I was in the offices of the practice of "Andrew & Lisa Psychiatric Services". An out-of-body exploration class was held regularly in another office of the building called "Public Metaphysical College number 103". They had several classes ranging from beginners that concentrated on controlling and interpreting dreams all the way to out-of-body exploration.

I had to make decisions so that my integration into this society could proceed smoothly. Was my name to remain Steve, or become Alex. I chose to become Alex. Steve's Parents and siblings were all well aware of his activities and that he was going to leave soon in spirit. While in that heavenly meeting place, Steve indicated to me he would keep my name Alex. Quite frankly, our society has yet to evolve to the sophisticated level of this one as far as spiritual and metaphysical things are concerned. In my former world, people looked upon me as "weird" enough as it is without suddenly changing "my" name to Steve. Understanding this, Steve will just assume Alex as his name.

Personally, I think Steve has the tougher job of acclimating to our (that is, United States, Earth) society. He has no one to help him like I have. He must accept a society which is backwards in metaphysical matters. And he has to get used to being attacked by dogs if he wants to go for a walk in neighborhoods... oh well, that's what he wants; all those automobiles, trouble staying fit and big ferocious pets. One man's junk is another man's treasure. To each, his own and may God bless him!

Well, back to here. (Please! And Whew!)

Steve's job (and therefore mine) used to be a pedal-car Servicer. Later, to get away from all that nudity and run-away indulgence in sex, Steve moved to as far in the country as he could. One can not modem or fax a pedal-car, so he had to change careers. He applied his art skills to that of a Graphics Artist. In that job, it was then possible to do it all from his home way out in the boonies. That is just what I tried to do for years but never could because of this society's inferior infrastructure for conducting telecommuting jobs. In my new society, I could telecommute... but now, I didn't want to! I wanted to live in the midst of it! Central Capital's air is as clean as in the country anyway. There are many trees and parks are all around.
I wanted to totally submerge myself in the Central Capital's way of pedal-cars, solar-energy, going nearly nude and run away sex! Well, maybe not so much that last one, but... with the proper cautions...

So there went the second decision. I would sell what used to be Steve's wilderness home to live in the Central Capital.

Interestingly, it turns out the physical brain retains most of the day to day skills of living: Where this place is and that place is, and many job skills. The ability to service pedal-cars was still in place in his brain. So I decided to become a pedal-car Servicer. Pedal-cars are like automobiles in this land; they are all over. Pedal-car Servicer jobs are easy to find. One can just about pick and choose where they want to live and there will be pedal-car Servicer jobs there.

So there went the final major decision, what job. I would be a pedal-car Servicer.

Doctor Andrew and Doctor Lisa were great in helping me find deals in homes to first rent, then buy, finding jobs and selling my place in the wilderness.
They helped me adjust and taught me much in applied metaphysics. I found out I could easily go out-of-body. I could, in spirit, visit my old society at anytime.

Well, I could go on and on. I'll just go over the main points, just some stuff about daily living in the Central Capital that may be interesting...

At this point, an account of my first experience as I stepped out into my once-lost society...
With Doctors Andrew White-Owl and Lisa Silver-Cloud escorting me, we left their office and descended three flights of stairs. (No elevators for public use in this society!) There I was, dressed in a brief bikini accompanied by a man and a woman closer to nudity then even I was. On the first floor, the Doctors greeted a couple people who passed by whom they knew. They exchanged friendly greetings. I assumed the strangers were some kind of professional, but they were dressed in attire my old society would have considered more appropriate for a French Beach than a professional office suite. Both of whoever they are, seemed fit and ready for any grueling athletic event.

We opened the doors and stepped outside. I was greeted by air as fresh smelling as any country setting. It was delightfully cool and dry. We walked over to an adjoining smaller building. There were large cubbyholes, three levels of them. This turned out to be parking for pedal-cars! Doctor Andrew's car was in a second level cubbyhole. He unlocked the door, and pulled his pedal-car out, and set it down. Doctor Lisa's was way up in the third level. Reaching up, she pulled her pedal-car out. I enjoyed watching her muscles ripple and flex as she did so.

"Do you know where your car is?" asked Doctor Andrew.

[They just call them "cars". If you see the word "car" here, it is referring to a pedal-car. Just like we don't always call our cars "engine-powered-cars", they do not always call their cars, "pedal-cars".]

For a couple seconds, I did not know. I began to say, "I don't know... wait..."
Then somehow, I remembered. It was Steve's brain that had the information! I did know. I went straight to it. My pedal-car was also in a third level cubbyhole. When Steve came this morning as Steve for the last time, before his own self-initiated out-of-body that would begin the final exchange of bodies and societies, he was aggravated that one can never find any empty cubbyholes except for those third-level ones. And due to Steve's (so now, mine) smaller build, (more on that in a bit) he really had to reach. (Huh! How about that! Parking problems involving pedal-cars...)

But then, how to unlock... Oh, his brain came up with that too. I drew from an almost hidden tiny pocket hung on the side my tiny bikini, a round thing with a tab sticking out. It seemed to have printed circuits on it. I knew to draw it out and stick it into a slot on the door of the cubbyhole containing my pedal-car. I heard it click and then I could open the door. I drew out my pedal-car and set it down. Wow, it was a sleek torpedo of deep maroon with black stripes. Doctor Andrew's pedal-car was gleaming white, and Doctor Lisa's pedal-car was dark blue. Both the Doctors' pedal-cars gleamed shiny and clean. Mine was a little dusty, but its beautiful finish still shined through. All three pedal-cars had two front wheels, and one rear wheel.

As each thing was needed, what used to be Steve's physical brain responded. The two Doctors were keenly interested in this point. They observed me carefully, to see if I could figure these things out. They were trying to prove various theories that abound in metaphysical circles about what knowledge does the physical brain keep versus knowledge the soul and energy body keeps, and perhaps, what knowledge do both of them keep.

According to my experience, I can answer some of those theorems. I knew how to get to Steve's home in the wilderness, and it was a long way out, some 80 miles. As I just observed, his brain provided me with all those pesky little nitty-gritty details; where's the key, where's the car, where do you park, where are the pedals, how do you steer, how do you change gears in these things, which side of the street do you ride on, and so on, were ALL available in the physical brain.

What used to be Steve's brain also provided me with a very important skill, the language of these people! No telling where in the Universe this place is. I "spirit-traveled" to get here. Spirit travel is done instantly, even across what to us is millions of light-years. This place could be the "star next door" or hundreds of galaxies away. So fortunate it was therefore, that Steve's brain provided me with instantaneous skill with the language of this land!

I was pretty much able to just get into my pedal-car and begin pedaling with no instruction as Doctor Andrew and Doctor Lisa led me to some places I needed to go now; for one thing, the courthouse... to change my name from Steve to Alex.

A typical street scene description can be made now...
First, what a pleasure pedaling the pedal-car; it is just like a bicycle except the rider is almost laying down. It is much more comfortable! On a bicycle, the rider has to crane his neck to look up and forward. But in a pedal-car, the seating position naturally gives you a clear forward view. One sits, reclined, peering out just over the "hood" of the pedal-car. The hood covers the "engines"; the rider's legs.

Another great thing is being able to cycle, though in a very different kind of "bicycle" if you call a pedal-car a bicycle, without having to worry about getting run over! (Or bitten!) No motor-cars anywhere, this was a world of pedal-cars only. Occasionally, a lumbering truck would be seen. They were electric, kept charged by solar sources. But they moved along with the pedal-cars and were not nearly so noisy as trucks back in the other society. This place is a bicyclist's dream!

Streets are clean, and many are lined with trees. Large open fields of green grass can be seen everywhere. They are used for ball games, running, frolicking around, and I quickly found out, sexual encounters. In fact, on my first time out, as we passed a field, under a bush in the open, not hidden at all, just kind of... to one side out of the way, was a couple sexing away at full tilt! The big muscular athletic woman was atop her man, both nude, and her big muscle-butt flying up and down. Passer-bys, most themselves nearly naked or just plain naked, paid little or no attention.

One rides on the right side of the street. Some pedal-cars passed us wishing to go faster, and we passed slower ones. Stop-lights are red for stop, blue for go, brilliant white flashing for about to turn red. All three colors come from a single projector.

Anybody walking was either naked or nearly so. Every one is in excellent physical shape. And they show it! Skimpy clothing or nudity prevailed. Everywhere I went, beautiful male and female physiques were displayed. Offices, grocery stores, on the street, in parks; everywhere. And they were beautifully tanned. I noticed no "tan-lines" on anyone so maybe this is their normal color, or they just plain dress skimpy all the time. I don't quite know how they stay in such great shape except to say, all this pedaling for everywhere one goes uses up thousands of calories and keeps the body in top condition.

I saw many of a race the Doctors told me are called "Betaqh" race. They were smaller, but still very fit looking and strong. The ladies were knock-outs. Dark-skinned with long flowing mid-night-black hair, they were shapely and strong. The Betaqh generally covers more but still leaves plenty of flesh to be seen. Many Betaqh women wear a long dress which is split all the way down both sides. That is very interesting to watch as their dress sometimes covers all, and sometimes none of their luscious shapely brown legs! (Pant, pant, drool!)

Click for larger

A mini or micro version of that split dress is seen here...

But also, from time to time, I saw Betaqh race (or something like them) in what could only be described as Islamic clothing. The men wore something like Monk's robes. The women wore a loose flowing dress which, if you're familiar with Arabic, is called an Abaya, and a head-dress which, if this was Middle East, would be called a hijab. Now... that was... interesting and intriguing, to say the least... And will tie in with Samirah later.

Well, indeed, I wish to get my part of this out of the way quickly and get to the part involving Samirah. But a couple more items in my settling in and getting adjusted...

Right away I noticed my body was not up to par in size with my fellow citizens. It is hard to tell just how big they are... In my imagination-days I imagined these people being seven-feet-two on average. They do indeed seem to be very big, maybe sure enough, around seven feet. But my body, though fit, shapely and strong, is smaller. I asked Doctors Lisa and Andrew why that would be. Their answer at first, was: "Due to Steve's soul being accustomed to a smaller body, he formed an etheric body of smaller size. Then, the physical body followed."
Then I asked them, "But then, while I was in my wrong society, why wasn't I unusually big and strong? I was the opposite! I was skinny and scrawny and sometimes got teased over it!"

"Hmm" the two Doctors said, then changed their theory thus: "Perhaps due to a karmic debt of some type, you were to live in a body of lesser development than your surrounding kind. We often encounter this. Usually a check on the Akashic records indicate one or more past lives of a scrawny, skinny person were blessed with him or her being unusually big, strong and beautiful. But they abused their blessing by bullying others with their size and strength or incredible beauty. When the plans were being laid out for you to be born, a body of lesser build was already in the making. Then, after what ever astral-level mishap occurred that put you in the wrong society, the wrong world, Steve ended up in a body originally intended for you, and you ended up in the wrong world in a body that perhaps began normally. Then, your "soul-instructions" for that incarnation caused your body's development to be arrested somewhat, resulting in skinniness. Meanwhile, Steve's soul went to work on repairing what was going to be a sickly body. When Steve first came to us as a paying patient, he did indeed speak of an early childhood difficulty with sickliness, lack of physical development and other problems of physical growth. In later years however, he became much healthier and stronger. His physical body normalized in all ways except for being full sized. Apparently, there just was not enough "growing-up-time" for a full-sized measure to be reached. Have you checked your Akashic records?"
I had to reply "No, I can't seem to make it to that plane when out-of-body."
"Hmm," Doctor Andrew muttered, "that right there indicates a possible lack of soul evolution. Continue trying, after all, you have only just begun. If you can't get there, ask a Spirit Guide to check for you. You may find out you had a number of past lives where you were blessed with perhaps, greater than usual strength and size, but you used it to bully others."
To which I sighed, "Bummer, dude!"

Oh well, I was lucky to finally be in my proper society. Indeed, I had little trouble fitting in. I took to all those pedal-cars like a duck to water. I wore the briefest of thong bikinis and the like. And those sex hungry women seemed to like my smaller size, perhaps because they liked being in absolute control.

Just like in my imagination, there were two races, one already mentioned. There is a larger, light-colored hair and skin race, and a somewhat smaller race with black hair and brown skin. The larger race was officially called "Taqh", and the smaller race called "Betaqh". (In my imagination, I called the larger race "T-2K and the smaller race "Beta".) The origin of the smaller race was different from my imagination. In my imagination, the Beta Race used to be American Indians, a tribe of whom somehow made it to the Central Mountains Republic (Shasheer). But alas, this is a totally different planet. The actual origin of the Betaqh race requires a long-winded, boring historical account too long to place here.
(And drat! That was something of a disappointment to me. I always cherished the Native American ancestry of the "Beta Race" or now, Betaqh Race as my imagination had filled in. Oh well, no matter, I'm just glad to be back in my correct society.)

Anyway, my own body size was about that of a typical Betaqh man despite my body was of the Taqh race. That would turn out to be great later... when I finally met Samirah...

With Doctor Andrew's help, I got my first job in my new society, the pedal-car Servicer I spoke of earlier. With little coaxing, my brain, that used to be Steve's brain, provided the repair skills necessary to competently work on pedal-cars.

Well, sure enough, on the job, all the clothing I saw were teeny bikini panties on guys, two lady Servicers came in nude every day, another lady wore t-shirts only, but nothing below. The boss, a man, was just like us, he wore nothing but a bikini that was "fish-net" in the back. All the guys and gals had golden tans and rippling muscles, especially in the legs and butt.

They took many "sex-breaks". Just that simple. Either a guy would approach one of the lady Servicers with his penis way out, throbbing. Those women there were always more than willing to accommodate. They would engage in quickie sex right there in front of everyone, even the boss, relieve themselves, rest a bit and get back to work, refreshed and relaxed, free of the pesky burning or throbbing genital. Hmm... it does have its advantages.
The gals advanced on the guys too when their genitals bothered them... including (gulp) me!
I know this account is to be displayed on a web-site that caters to men who like fantasies about amazons. Those guys probably think they would like this to happen to them. But I do not think most of those guys know what it is really like to have a huge, powerful woman, that you have to crane your neck to look up into her face, come up to you, naked, wild-eyed and breathing heavy! Let me tell you, it is quite unnerving the first few times it happens! And that boss does not stop them! We are paid by the pedal-car we get fixed; about fifty percent of the labor-charge to the customer. So the boss knows we are not going to fool around too much, because it does effect our pay. When he sees sexual activity going on, he just gently smiles and goes his way.

Fortunately, for me, the particular three women working in there with us were indeed ladies. They could see their advances made me nervous so they backed off some. Each one in time told me something like, "If you have any needs, just come over to me, I'll take care of you." Then a warm hug that usually pressed my face just above the level of their huge breasts, and then they turned to bother one of the other three guys.

Most nerve-wracking was the extra time in evenings and the weekends I worked. I worked on their equivalent to Saturday and Sunday in lieu of Monday and Tuesday off. Trouble was, two of those sex-hungry muscle-ladies worked those times too! The Boss-guy was there, but he did not always want sex, he was possibly burned out by other lady friends. So it was those two hungry women and I (gulp!).

I really was nervous! I dared not look their way.
Once I saw one of those big blondes coming my way out of the corner of my eye. I gulped. She looked steamy, walked slow with hips swaying. She moaned softly. But, she did not come to me, she stopped and straddled a structure of iron-piping covered with naugahyde, and, well, masturbated on it!

So that's what that thing is!
When I first began working there, I wondered what the object was. Was it some kind of tool for working on pedal-cars, or was it a brace of some kind...
A description of it: A sturdy metal post attached (bolted) to the floor. At the top of the post, about at a level you could sit on, was another pole or pipe about three inches wide covered with some cushioned naugahyde. It was somewhat tilted; at an angle. This pole, at a point, turned upward and terminated in handles. "What the heck was it?" I thought.

Well, now I knew. And what a show...

Straddling it, and holding on to the handles, the big tall blond lowered her steaming dripping vagina on it. Her vagina lips wrapped almost all the way around the pole. She thrust her genital vigorously over the pole, harder and faster. Her wild thrusting and rubbing deposited a whitish slick substance on the pole. It apparently came from her vagina, swollen due to her excess libido. She huffed and moaned. All the muscles of her fantastic body were tense and rippling with power as she lashed away at that pole. Despite the pole's firm mount, it swayed and bent as the huge powerful woman grew more frenzied.

Then finally, as her eyes winced, she let out a series of huffing screeches that hurt my ears (the same kind of screeches when sexing with the guys). After screeching and carrying on, she simmered down panting, slowed down her thrusting, and then just sat there on the pole a couple minutes with her vagina still almost all the way around it. I could hardly pay attention to my work. The sight of her doing that... did make me "hard".

And that perhaps is those sex-hungry ladies intention... if none of the guys seem responsive, one of those women will do her thing on the pole. Before she climaxes, she usually has a man in her, rather than the pole!

So any way, after I saw that the first time, my attention was transfixed. Finally relieved and relaxed, she quit the pole, wiped it very clean, then came over and said to me, "Okay, I took the edge off; I'll be gentle with you now if you wanna do me..." she smiled then turned and went back to her work-station. She sat, legs spread (remember, she is buck naked) with her vagina lips gaping open with vapors literally rising from it. She closed her eyes and relaxed that way about five minutes. After the break, she happily returned to work.

It was then my brain, that used to be Steve's, registered a hazy memory of this. He had not seen it in many years since he had been telecommuting for quite a while before exchanging bodies with me. Also registered is that he found it disgusting. I did not find it disgusting, but a relief that those sex-hungry muscle-women could use that... gizmo thing, and thus, leave me alone. And as I pointed out, I did find watching it genuinely stimulating. But I was nervous about sex with those giants!

After a month of utter amazement and adjusting to my proper society, I was finally settling in enough to think more clearly. I had not gone out of body in all that time. I attempted an out-of-body projection, but did not quite do it. I did however hear "Samirah" and "Internet" directly in my ears during the attempt. "Samirah" was heard first after I had been relaxing for about ten minutes. A little later, I heard "Internet". At that point, I ceased the effort and thought, "Indeed, I got to find Samirah! What's the matter with me! I've been so involved in this new life..."

I jumped on the computer and logged on The Network, that is, their version of the Internet.

The words Samirah and Internet may have come from a Spirit Guide. Samirah is a rare name if any at all in this society. It should be easy to find. I logged on a government service that keeps data bases of the population.

The government service allows you to see where a named person works and their email number. It does not give out addresses. Eleven Samirahs came out of the search for "Samirah". Now I must confess, I don't quite know how these names from my former society are coming out in the language I now speak. But they did interface somehow.
These people have "descriptive" names, like Native Americans often do; for example, Sitting Bull, Running Dear, Crow-Coyote and others. From this Internet site came names like: Samirah Soaring-Dove, Samirah Gold-Cloud, Samirah Red-Star, Samirah Silver-Dove... "That's IT!" I exclaimed aloud!

In one of my love stories about Islamic women, I wrote of one called Silver-Dove! And I bet credits to Navy beans that story was at least partially inspired by Samirah's presence in my energy field!

Quickly I wrenched everything out of that data-base I could. I jotted down her job and location of employment. She did not yet have an email-number. That was a good indication of having just "moved in" perhaps, and it would have been just months ago, the same time my need for caffeine suddenly dropped!

Man, my imagination went crazy. I have never seen Samirah physically before. I have felt her love, or at least, caring presence, tried to speak with her mentally, painted pictures that might be inspired somewhat by her presence in my energy field. What would she be like! Act like! Well, I would find out tomorrow!
I shut down the computer and went to bed. I found it hard to sleep.

Next morning, after asking for a few hours off from my job, I put on one of my nicer bikinis and rode my pedal-car fast. I arrived to the part of town and to Big Brenda's Brands Car Store service center where Samirah Silver-Dove is employed.

Nervously I went in. The inside of the store had rows and rows of gleaming new pedal-cars. A hale and healthy big naked muscle-blond with huge breasts, powerful build and a tiny red triangle over her genital held by strings greeted me, "How can we help you today, sweety?"

"I... I'm... Does Samirah Silver-Dove work here?" I asked nervously.
"She sure does, sweety!" she replied heartily and friendly, "but I can provide you with anything you need!..."

With that, the towering leviathan of a blond came up to me and drew me into her great bosom, my face between her breasts. After a firm hug, she released me and stepped back saying, "Now what can big Brenda get for you today?"

"Well, I... I... You see... uh," I nervously stammered away, "I am trying to find Samirah Silver Dove, I... don't need service or to buy anything..."
"Oh okay, sweety," the friendly giant blond boomed, "So you're her sweety! Drats! Okay, wait here, I'll bring her out!"

I waited nervously while I looked over shiny new pedal-cars in that show-room. The place was very much a cross between a bicycle store and an automobile dealership. Pedal-cars, being smaller, can fit into an inside show-room like a bicycle store. But it had an automobile dealership "feel"... It's something I can't quite put into words.

Then she came out... looking sweet and dainty next to that huge naked blond. And she was Islamicly dressed! Hijab, abaya, the works all there! She had a cute round face with dark brown eyes that sparkled from their gleaming whites. Her little lips were supple and pursed like in a kiss, and had a dainty button nose. She stepped forward a bit from the giant blond, gazing at me intently.

"You didn't tell me you had this sex-pot boy friend!" boomed the blond, "Wow! Like, you've been holding out on me! He's just your size too! How 'bout that! A sexy golden boy just your size!"

Samirah stared at me intently. "Alexander?" she asked nervously, and in a sweet soft voice.
Strange how, some way, "Alexander" registered to her rather than Alex. Remember, until this moment, she knew me only while she was in spirit form and I in the physical. No telling just what she picked up. Indeed, this is a very strange way to start out a love affair!

"Well go on!" boomed the big blond heartily, smiling big, "take those things off, get naked and get it on!"

Samirah walked quickly towards me with her hands held out from her hips in... a very pretty way... Then she pulled down her rolled up sleeves as she continued to approach. That covered up some very nice, well formed brown arms. Her abaya, or robe, was gray with sleeves rolled up for work until she came to me. Her hijab was white with plain borders. I could see a bit of coal-black hair held back by her hijab.

As she approached, I could see she was very tall and kind of big! Next to that huge blond, she appeared small, but next to me, she was exactly my height... her eyes were perhaps just half an inch higher than mine. With hijab wrapped around her head, the top of her head including hijab was about an inch and a half over my head. If this was Samirah, she had "walked into" a body that was clearly of the Betaqh Race.

She came right up to me, face to face... Suddenly, the vision of my "computer" room in my house back in the old society and world flashed across my eyes - that same room where I tried this and that way to work at home including running a bbs and later a web-site... and painted many pictures and wrote many stories...

"Alexander!?" she spoke with a pretty voice, "Is that you?"
I replied nervously with those big brown eyes of hers right in my face, "Samirah! Is that you? From Iran, later France, then to the airport where you saw me?"
" yes " she whispered daintily, barely audible, "I... can't believe... for so long I have wished this, I... You... Well!..." Mere words could not serve her purpose.
Samirah finally said, "Alexander, your ghost is now real!" Then fell against me in a hug. She was big and heavy and nearly knocked me over. But I held my stance and hugged her long and tight in the way that I spent endless hours laying on the bed in the other world day-dreaming about. And it was just like my day-dreams too. I, nearly naked, wearing that little bikini, hugging tight that all-covered but sturdy hunk of sweetness! Indeed, I did "harden up" just a little. But it was kept down by a tremendous flood of "true-love", the kind that comes straight from God!

"Take them blankets off, girl!" boomed a heavy female voice from the giant blond. "Or are you one of those girls that's into having their man drilling a hole to get in them!? Go for it sweety!"

But in our bliss of love we paid no attention to that loud mouth's urging for a sex show from us. We were in a tight embrace, but I managed to glimpse at Samirah's cute face. Tears rolled from her closed eyes as she really put the hugging pressure on. I almost couldn't breathe.

Brenda, the big blond, began to see this was special. She slowly came up and said gently and seriously, "Go ahead Sam," (apparently short for Samirah) "take a break, a long one if necessary. There's some bushes and stuff in back of the store if you want a little privacy."
" okay, thank you " I heard a muffled voice say from Samirah leaning heavy on my shoulder.

With Samirah leaning heavily on me, I did what Brenda suggested. Brenda even opened the door for us. We went around the building to the back. Indeed, there was much greenery. A couple large trees, a number of unkempt bushes and tall cool green grass grew free and wild in the middle of a city. (That's what I like about Central Capital; one is never far from at least, little bits of nature.)
Samirah tugged at me to go further, penetrating the bushes. We came to a gully with a little stream coursing through it. On either bank of this stream was cool grass strewn with many wild flowers. Across the gully were more bushes, a large tree and finally multistory buildings. Samirah pulled me down to sit on the grassy bank. She wrapped me in her sturdy arms and kissed and kissed... as did I! Several dozen breathless "I love you"s were exchanged between both of us. It is easy to say I have not had such bliss of happiness in all my life... in that other society...

"OOF" I went as Samirah pushed me down. I lay in the grass while she covered me with herself. She kissed me some more then just looked at me. Her cute round face was tear-streaked but happy. Only in my wildest dreams did I ever envision this! I never thought it would happen! There I was, near naked with that robe-clad Samirah over me. And she was becoming... well...

Her legs draped over my body spreading her abaya over me. Her arms were all over me as well. She partially straddled me actually. Her butt was moving up and down just a little, perhaps she did not even realize it! I began to grow hard again. I could not hide it this time. As it rose up and hardened, it pressed into her heavy-feeling thigh. She shifted over a bit moving her leg from over my hardening genital to a position more centered over me... her crotch was now right over mine. She did this while staring into my face with those sparkling teary eyes and a few more kisses. I grew harder and the tip of my engorged genital was pressing my thin bikini material, into her abaya right in between her legs. I made no moves of my own. I let Samirah decide what was going to happen...

In all that time imagining any encounter with Islamicly dressed women, I imagined any of those make-believe Islamic woman to be usually devoid of any sexual activity or advances. I guess that is the stereotype, that Islamic women are frigid and totally without sex with true love only allowed...

Well, I waited... I was helpless anyway. Samirah practically sat on me now. "I love you so much!" was huffed into my ear again and I responded in kind. I also had ten-thousand questions, but they would have to wait. Well... maybe just a couple...

"Samirah," I finally ventured; and it felt so nice to say that name in addressing her directly finally, "Did you... in all that time you were a... a..."
"A ghost?" Samirah completed my question.
"Well yeah," I continued, "a... ghost... Did you see everything I did?"
"Most everything, yes Alex! I watched you closely!"
I asked, "Did you make me paint that... picture... that in my mind was you?"
"Well, I didn't make, I couldn't... but I guess I influenced you somehow... You painted her... in the picture, to look loving; like she cared for you. And that was, I would say, my influence. You seemed so lonely, I just wanted to give you love and comfort..."
"When I..." I stammered out, "If I held the copy of my painting of you, the one in that picture-frame, in my lap or next to my heart, did you see that?"
"Yes and felt it too!" Samirah replied with a definite naughty glimmer in her eyes, "I placed my consciousness in the picture so that I was actually being hugged by you. It felt so good! Waves and waves of rosy light warmed me and made me feel wanted and secure."

I gulped before asking the next one, but, here I went...
"Were you there when I loved the picture of you so much that I... got... kind of like..."
Samirah completed my question by saying, "When you made pretend love to me? Oh yes! You bet I was there! I was mingled in your thoughts and what you felt. And when you climaxed, it felt excruciating-great to me as well! I enjoyed it!
And, it even seemed right somehow... first there was the true love, the respect, then that grew into sex! For you it had to be sort of like pretend sex only because I had no physical body for you to hold... or enter... I felt so warm and secure. I loved you more and more!..."

I interrupted because more questions kept welling up; I asked, "Once the Psychiatrist and I attempted a depossession. What was that like... to you?"
"I was stunned and saddened that you would want me out of your life so! The Psychiatrist guided you to surround yourself with a White Light that was different from later White Lights you did... It was like a force field... it pushed at me and thrust feelings of rejection through me. I saw that other White Light, that tunnel-thing, and the magnetic pull again, that same one that came from time to time. Radiant beings were there calling for me to come. Even my Grandmother was there. A friendly and sincere Islamic Mullah that I knew as a child was there too. But I didn't want to leave you. I feared what might happen. I wanted desperately to find security in you, but that thing around you was like electricity zapping me. It zapped me not with physical pain, but with emotional pain of rejection. Yet, you were sad, almost crying within it..."

Tears came forth from Samirah's eyes as she lowered her face on my shoulder and sobbed. "Wow," I thought, "First-hand account of what its like to be thrown off by a depossession process!" I hugged her then and whispered in her ear, "It's okay now. I love you so much. I loved you then! It's just I didn't know what... the entire deal was..."

Samirah raised her tear-streaked face to continue, "I knew also, you did not know what was going on. I could feel the sadness coming from you despite the zapping White Light. And that tunnel thing kept pulling at me. I groped for objects to hold on to, but my hands passed through everything. Just by sheer will I avoided it. It seemed that dam Psychiatrist was causing the tunnel to form and move closer to me. The glowing people within it seemed very friendly, but I didn't want to leave you!"

Samirah cried some more then continued, "What helped me stay away from the tunnel is that other beings that were mingled with you came out and went into it. One was a friend of mine. She was killed... physically killed that is, in the same bombing that killed me. We had been together most of the time. We both followed you home. Years ago she entered your being first, then I did. If you felt very sexy years ago, it was because of her. She was a sex maniac. She could think of nothing else. She was put in jail many times in Iran because of her behavior and daring things she did with her clothes. Anyway, then, she left and I saw her go into the tunnel. Then I saw some... thing... some horrible looking, blood-encrusted blob, rise up out of you. As it went toward the tunnel of light, the filth and encrusted blood vaporized and a fairly good looking nude male went into the light accompanied by Angels..."
"Huh!" I interrupted, "I remember that thing! During the depossession, I once saw, in my mind's eye, some blob of clotted blood... I felt it leave. I told the Psychiatrist when it left. I thought we had gotten it."

Samirah smiled then continued, "Yes, and finally, that depossession was concluded. You went out of hypnosis and your glow changed. I could approach again. The tunnel of Light drew further away and dimmer. Thank goodness they gave up one more time. I stayed out of your energy for a time after that. I observed you..."
I interrupted, "Now let me get this straight... whenever I went somewhere, by car, you know, engine-car of that other world, you went with me?"
"Yes! I went with you everywhere!" Samirah replied with a sparkle in her big brown eyes.
"Aw, that's so cute!" I commented simply, then asked, "Did you just, like, sit in the right-seat next to me?"
"Yes!" she replied happily, "Or placed my consciousness in some object. When you began wearing the shirts with my picture on them, I would place my consciousness in the picture, then I was close to you and that source of warming love and the rosiness of Light that I knew was for me."
"Gosh!" I quipped, "It must be cool being a ghost!"
Samirah smiled, "Sometimes, especially with one such as you! But other times it really blew!"

I asked further of the depossession, "I was sad all that weekend. Was that because of you?"
"I would say it was all your sadness, Alex," Samirah replied, smiling, "You loved me and you thought you had driven me away. I wanted so much to tell you it was okay and I was still there. At that time, I was not in your being. I anchored my consciousness in your paintings or copies of paintings. I wanted to get your attention, but making noises seemed to frighten you when I did it once before. I did not ever want to frighten you. Later, you held my picture in your arms, and I placed my consciousness there. You asked me if I was still with you. I tried my darndest to make you hear "yes"... Did you hear it?"
"I believe I did," I replied, "I seemed to get a yes from my thoughts. But I wasn't sure if that was you are just my own mind. Say, later, after that, when I asked you if you came from Iran to United States and in my thoughts I heard a reply "France", indicating you flew from France, was that you?"
"Yes!" Samirah answered, smiling, "That was me telling you I came from France. Also, after you got that answer, I felt your thoughts brighten, for you were not expecting "France" as the answer, so that demonstrated to you, the answers you were getting really were from me!"
"Yes..." I replied, thinking back on it, "that did indeed pretty much convince me, I was receiving authentic answers. I was expecting you to answer that you came from Iran to United States, and when I heard France, yes, that... convinced me!"
Samirah replied, "Mmm, good! Anyway, that was right, I did not come straight from Iran. I followed the brother of my friend who was killed with me. That was the same one that entered your being first. Anyway, I followed her brother to France. We were in France many years. Later, he came to America to study. Again, my friend and I followed!"
"Wow!" I commented, fascinated.

Samirah smiled, kissed me and then repositioned herself over me and pressed her crotch to mine. Absorbed by her account of what happened, my penis had calmed a bit. But her action got it going again. Then, fully straddling me, she continued...
"Then, after the Psychiatrist taught you White Light protection, you, against his advice, cast the White Light around me too through your will to do so. That felt so great, Alex, I felt loved and wanted! I would have never thought... seems like there are different things you can do with that White Light stuff..."
I replied, "A soul can do with White Light what he or she wants. I suspected you with me all along, and I wanted to include you in my White-Light process just to be sure!"
"Oh! That was so nice Alex..." Samirah said as her eyes closed with her butt beginning to pump up and down some what vigorously now. She repositioned herself over me and pressed her crotch hard on my ridged penis. I could feel its tip working into an opening in Samirah's cloth covered crotch. It felt hot and wet, it was wetting her abaya in the front!

Samirah raised herself with her arms like a kind of push-up but not raising her crotch from mine. She looked at me... kind of hungry like... then let herself down for more hugging and kisses. She whispered, "You don't have to pretend sex now!" She pushed her crotch hard into mine, working my hardened genital further in that opening. Looks like she was going to take Brenda the big blonde's suggestion and make me "drill a hole" to enter her.

Oh! And I wanted to enter her bad. My genital throbbed and ached. But I still had thousands of questions and just had to ask one more extremely curious question. Despite Samirah's increasing arousal, she was cheerfully cooperative in answering questions.

So I asked, "Samirah, you said something about making noises to get my attention once. It was not after the depossession attempt, but when did you do it? Was it after I read that book about spirit attachments?"

Samirah, in the midst of increasing huffing and heavy breathing, settled and thought, then answered, "Yes. You read the book before any attempt with that Psychiatrist to get me to go. I was with you that night as you read. Though I can't read English, I received your thoughts as the book produces them from you. As the thought forms issued from you, your glow changed quite a bit. Some ugly scary thing was about, I did not know what it was. Maybe that blood-encrusted thing. You did have that. Fortunately the Psychiatrist helped you get that to go. Anyway, I learned what I was doing to you was bad. I did not know what to do. I loved you, and cared for you. I left your energy field. The next day, I kept distant from you. I tried tapping your tambourine and dumbek. I tried this and that. I was experimenting sometimes, not intending for you to hear. But sometimes I saw your glow change to a low ebb, and I felt you afraid because of noises you thought were from a scary source. I saw that blood-clot thing move toward you. I moved into your being first. I was afraid myself. My fear increased yours. But it felt better to be in you again. After that, I left you now and again a number of times to experiment making sounds and moving objects. Don't know if you notice all of it or not. It took a while for me to figure out just what is going on. After a few days of messing around, I did not do it anymore. I moved back into your being until that awful time with the Psychiatrist when he tried to get you to drive me off."

Samirah calmed a bit and she just laid her head over my shoulder. (She was too big to lay her head on my shoulder.)
"Good heavens," I said, "I had no idea all that was going on just like that. Wow!"

Samirah thrust her butt up and down again. My penis tip was working deeper and deeper into Samirah's vagina pushing the cloth of her abaya in with it. It was soaking wet. She began to groan. I had no more real intense questions so the question box that I was shut down. That left us with our hungry genitals digging at each other!

"OH! Alex!" Samirah finally said suddenly and with force, "Let's just FUCK! I need it! You need it! And it is NOT sinful. It is a beautiful thing!"

Before I could say anything, Samirah stood on her knees straddling me. She pulled up her abaya past her knees, freeing it from being pinned to the ground. Her abaya was indeed soaked in the front over her crotch! Then she took the lower hem of her abaya and raised it over her head, stripping the whole thing off. She was naked underneath. Her abaya going past her head disheveled her hijab a bit. She rearranged it then came back down on me. Her vagina glistened with moisture. Her vagina, large and imposing, sat between a pair of muscular looking thighs. She lowered herself down. Her vagina found my penis and slurped it in to the base! OOHHH that felt good! My face burned and my eyes blurred. She began vigorous thrusting!

Samirah quaked over me with huffing and screeching as orgasm avalanched through her. She continued thrusting on to her next one. I blew up inside her as well, nearly knocking me unconscious from the intensity of pleasure.
Soon after I blew up, Samirah screamed and huffed out her second orgasm and still kept pumping and thrusting, though a little wearily so.
"You haven't enough?" I sort of muttered.
"Still aches! Burns!" she huffed, "gotta get it out!"
On her way to her final blast I gushed again. She pumped and thrashed on my worn down genital for a number of minutes more slowly building to an extended, drawn out orgasm that had her quaking and huffing but not such loud screeching. Seemed to last a long time though.

Finally she had enough. She just sat on me with a contented look on her face, eyes closed. Both our crotches were soaked and the ground below us as well. She laid down on top of me, sweating and panting. She huffed wearily, "I love you Alex" then snoozed a bit... atop me.

That is more... much more... actually infinity times more fun with a woman, after only five weeks back in my proper society than in the entire 47 years of living in the other society.

As I lay there with that sexually worn down big woman atop me, I gazed past her tasseled hijab and black hair to a pristine blue sky. Laying in green grass, I could see only leafy bushes and trees with dancing sparkling colors of dark-green, medium-green, yellowish-green and everything in between. I could see two tall buildings towering above the trees. It dawned on me though, could anyone from those windows up there watch us? Oh well, these people (my people now) do it in full view in parks anyway, it just does not concern them. To them, sex is normal and okay, no problem. Samirah and I had to learn that after living in our respective repressive worlds. I continue to lay there amazed. She sure was heavy, but love from her and for her made her feel light at the same time. Soon I dozed off...

"OH!" exclaimed Samirah getting up suddenly, "I gotta get back to my job! How long has it been?"

She got up hurriedly, brushing herself off. She used grass to wipe off the worst of it from her crotch. She picked up her abaya to slip it on. As she stood there, legs spread, tall and muscular, I admired, not moving.
She noticed me staring then said, "I bet you enjoy me naked, don't you Alex!"
"Oh man, do I!" I replied, "why don't you just go naked? You may in this society. Or just go skimpily dressed."
"Nah," Samirah replied, "As soon as I found out there was a movement in this society to dress in these things, I took it up immediately. I'm just used to it, you know. The abayas of this society are so beautiful. This one's just a work-abaya. I have very pretty ones. I'll wear for you, Alex, tonight! It's not like Iran, where you will be put in jail if you don't cover ALL your hair, and don't wear black. Black black black! That's all they want! Fools! I learned most of what I now know about Islam and the Quran from you, Alex, when I was a spirit merged in your being. When you read and studied it, I did with you. Those idiots that run Iran are so clueless!"

Samirah slipped her abaya over her head and settled it. That's really all there was to it. An abaya and the head-dress or hijab. Two pieces. Some of the skimpy dressed ladies also have two pieces which are as much trouble, or a little more, to put on.
Samirah concluded, "I don't wanna go naked or skimpily dressed. I get too many of those big giant blond men after me. I sort of like those long split dresses though. I might get one of those. But I'm most comfortable in my abaya!" She adjusted her hijab and abaya then said, "Come, Alex, lets go."

Then I saw it flashing like a light. A big wet spot right on front of Samirah's abaya, over her crotch-area. I said, "Uh... Samirah, wait! What are we going to do about that?"
"EEEK!" she yelped upon looking down and seeing it, "Dam!"
"Just go in naked!" I joked.
"Oh Alex, will you get that off your mind!" she demanded, "I'm not going naked." she said with hands on hips, assertive but good natured; and near giggling.

"I know!" I began, "Wrap the thing on your head around your body, sort of like a mini-sari, a skimpy version of what the Hindu women wear!"

I fully expected Samirah to retort to that as well, but she surprised me by saying, "Hmmm! Intriguing idea! Nah, those loud-mouths in there will carry on like a bunch of cackling hens. They're always going on about the way I dress."
"Whom? Your coworkers?" I asked, "They want you to wear less?"
"That goes without saying, that's for sure!" Samirah answered strongly. Then she huffed, "Oh! What am I going to do with this!?"
"Can you put the abaya on backwards and I walk closely behind you?" I suggested.
"Hmmm" Samirah said, thinking, "Good, Alex! Finally a useful suggestion. An abaya is not completely able to be fit backwards, but maybe if I do my hijab like this... Okay, that's what we'll have to do! At least try!"

Samirah stripped off her abaya once more giving me another look at her awesome brown body, including bulging thigh muscles, "wash-board" abs, and over-all athletically sumptuous figure. She slipped her abaya back on backwards. It looked a little odd, but she arranged her hijab to hide most of the awkward look. Sure enough, the wet spot was behind her.
"Good. Now what will we tell Brenda?" I asked, "We were out here so long..."
"Tell her we were abducted by aliens and gang probed!" Samirah laughed.
"Do we have to tell her we were gang probed?" I smiled, joking with her.
"Alex!" she started.
"Okay, okay," I surrendered, "So what are the aliens supposed to look like?"...

Big Brenda was with a customer selling a pedal-car when Samirah, and I, following Samirah closely to hide that spot, came in. We thought we made it to the back, but then we heard her jovial voice boom "Lord have mercy, you two! It felt like an earth-quake! Whomp-whomp, Whomp-whomp, Whomp-whomp! Haven't done it in a while eh?"

I began to say "We were abducted by (mumph...)" Samirah covered my mouth with her hand.
Samirah boldly said, "Nope, it has been a while! Fucking sure feels nice, don't it!?"
"WHOOEEE!" cheered Brenda, "It sure does, baby! I wondered when you were going to open up! Well, back to work... if you can!"
"Yes Ma'am!" Samirah replied cheerfully as she backed up a few steps then turned and quickly walked to the work-area.

Suddenly, on impulse, I turned to the big blond Brenda and asked, "Can... May I work here as a pedal-car Servicer? I have -"
"WHOA! Way to get more time with your honey! What experience do you have sweety?"
"Five years" (well, I did... through Steve!)
Samirah came back to me to back me up. She added, "We do desperately need people! We got cars waiting two weeks to get worked on!"

Brenda smiled at me and stated, "All right cutie, you can work here on one condition!"
"I asked, "What condition?"
"That you and Sam don't fuck all day! Okay?"
"Sure" both Samirah and I said in Unison. Then Samirah began giggling.
Brenda asked, "So when can you start work, honey?"
"Give me one or two weeks notice for the place I work for now? Is that okay?" I ventured.
"Wow! Two weeks! Who are you working for?" Brenda responded.
"Elrod's Car Sales and Service" I replied.
"Rodney eh!?" Brenda repeated as she laughed a bit, her huge breasts bouncing right in my face as she did so. Brenda continued, smiling big, "Well, sweety, let big Brenda take care of ol' Rodney, tonight! You can start here tomorrow."
I innocently asked, "Wow! How are you going to arrange that?"

Brenda thrust out her huge bosom and spread her huge pillars of muscle that were her legs. She thrust her crotch out a bit, displaying that tiny red patch that did not quite cover a huge vagina. The patch was damp in the middle. She proclaimed, "The furnace behind this red triangle here will reduce Rodney to a smoldering mass!" She resumed a normal posture and asked, "Are you to work for him today?"
"Yes, I really got to get there soon!" I replied, indeed realizing that I had taken more time off then I said.
"All right then," Brenda replied, "Go on and put in your last day's work. Tomorrow morning, pick up your stuff from there, use a trailer if necessary, and bring everything here. Do you need a trailer?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do need one." I replied.
Indeed, during the five weeks I worked there, I accumulated many of my own pedal-car tools. Rodney did not have that well equipped work station and borrowing tools from those giants all the time made me nervous. (I tried to borrow from the guys who were not always willing to lend. But those ladies were always more than willing to lend tools to me. It's just that every time, I had to pay with getting my face smothered between huge breasts, and sometimes, getting a wet vagina rubbed on my leg.) I had a fairly large tool chest to move. Indeed, it would require a pedal-car trailer. For some reason, Steve sold his long ago.

A trailer is almost essential to pedal-cars. The trunk of a pedal-car is small indeed. But a standard trailer is three times as roomy as a Lincoln Town Car's trunk. That's big! All pedal-cars have a standard hitch. Many dealers throw in free trailers to sell a pedal-car. Fancy smancy pedal-cars come with a trailer, standard.

Man! I would have loved to be a fly on the wall of Elrod's Car Sales And Service that night! Indeed, I did put in a good remainder of that day after greeting Samirah good bye, see ya tomorrow. I worked a little late to make up for taking more time off than I said. Samirah originally planned for me to come to her house that night! But after seeing me take up working at Brenda's, and knowing I had to move things and go through a bit tomorrow, she advised that I go straight home from work and get plenty of sleep. I wanted to go home with Samirah, but there would be plenty of time for that later. We would be close every day now.

The next morning, pulling a trailer Brenda let me borrow, I came to pick up my tools. I walked in to the work area and asked one of the big ladies already there, "Where's Rodney?"
"He's sleeping in his office, Alex." she said giggling, "Boy, some gal made a mess of him! Put him under! I don't think he'll be around for some time now."

Well, I had to make sure everything was okay. Nervously, I approached Rodney's office. The light was off, the door partially open, and he was sprawled out on the floor naked. Dried remains of semen and vaginal juice was all over his crotch and worn down genital.

"Uh, Rodney?" I ventured. I knocked softly.

He stirred, moaned and mumbled, "Ohhh! Ow! Uh, is that you, Alex?"
"Y... yes sir!" I replied.
"Ohhh! Ow! Oh forget getting up." a worn out Rodney tried to stir. He wearily said, "I understand you're going to move out today. That's okay, little fella. Just go ahead and pack up and move. Just... try to be quiet, okay? Heh-heh! Rough night! Tell Jackie she's got the floor for any sales until I recover. Close and lock the door on your way out, okay?"
"Oh, uh, yes sir!" I replied.

I left him there sprawled out naked on the carpeted floor. I closed and locked the door on his darkened office. "Sleep tight!" I thought for him.

Jackie was the one of those big women that often wore a skimpy top but nothing below. She was always naked from tummy on down. I told her Rodney said she had the floor for sales today.
"Thanks, babe!" Jackie happily said as she drew me quickly into her breasts for a tight but quick hug and kiss on my forehead. With hips swaying, shoulders back and breasts way out, she walked quickly to the front as some customers were already approaching. "Wow" I thought to myself, "The mere presence of that sexy amazon sales lady with her big light-brown bush between a pair of muscular legs would have caused me to melt down to China back in my old society... and almost did here. But those customers, two men, hardly noticed... as I watched a bit to see what would happen.

I packed all my tools in my big tool-set-box. The other two women, the fully naked ones, noticed. One came over asking, "Are you leaving us?"
The other followed and added, "I haven't had a chance to... bring you pleasure... you know..."
The other looked at her with some impatience then asked me, "Are you quitting service work altogether or just going to another shop?"
"To another shop." I replied, then added, "There is nothing wrong here, just that... there's certain conditions favorable to me and it is closer to my home."
It was not closer actually, but I did not want to say it was because of Samirah being there.

Well, I packed and began to wheel the big tool box outside, in the bright sun, to my pedal-car's trailer. One of those big babes actually began to sniff and cry a bit. The other, more adult acting, did not seem all too happy either.

I approached the sobbing one and, craning my neck to look up to her said, "Well gosh, it is not like I'm gone for good! We'll... meet at the park sometimes on Monday! You two have Sunday and Monday off right?"
"Oh..." she muttered and drew me into her big bare bosom for a long firm hug.

"Alex," began the other lady, Pam, firmly, "Really, you should learn to let go and relax. Enjoy stuff! Enjoy us! Listen, me and crying Kathy there are going to Park NW105 Monday morning to ride hand-cars and picnic and all sorts of relaxing messin' around. We'll take one other guy to take our hardest fucking, and you go with us. We'll be gentle. You don't have to fuck with us if you don't wanna. Now be there something like nine in the morning, Monday. Just park your cute sexy self on some picnic table and we'll find you. The only place with picnic tables is the entrance area so you'll be easy to find. Okay?" Pam turned to the other woman and commanded, "Now stop crying Kathy! We'll see him!"

I agreed to all, then continued packing. That tool box was heavy to lift into the pedal-car trailer. Pam saw me struggling. She came over, relaxed, hips swaying and said, "Here Alex, let me..."
With a few flexes of her powerful muscles, Jackie lifted that tool-box up and had it sitting nice and neat in my pedal-car trailer in seconds with no help from me.
"Thank you" I said.
Pam said, "It's okay, Alex! See ya Monday morning!"
She "blew a kiss" to me and strolled back to work.

At first, I was not quite sure how to handle the situation on Monday, if Samirah wanted me with her. That Pam was forceful. One does NOT say no to her. And NEVER stand her up. Gulp!

I say at first I did not know how to handle this situation... but I was applying ways of the other society to this open and truly free society I lived in now. My past life experience kicked in at that point. The solution to the problem was ridiculously simple... actually, there was not a problem... Just show up at that park with Samirah! The adult-acting Pam would then know, Samirah is my special Love. Pam would still expect me to be relaxed about occasional sex with her and others though, as is the way of this land. That Kathy might be a bit jealous though, but she will get over it. There's just too much size difference! Pam knows this, but I think Kathy, only twenty-something, looks upon me as some kind of living man-doll to play with. (It takes these people a long time to mature, physically and mentally; but look at their life spans, 320 years on average!)

OH! But I prattle on!

I want to hurry and get to the part about Samirah!

Her experience is interesting because, she does NOT have a series of past lives here, and her experience is from a woman's point of view. Okay, I'll get to her, but just a couple more points and a brief account of what happened that Sunday morning...

I am so excited about living among my own people and society again! It fits me so well! Already I have enjoyed the benefits of living here...

I've been to parks and never been attacked or bothered by menacing dogs. (However, and this is an interesting point... This shows how I was not right for that society I was accidentally born into... now consider the following: No, there are no big dogs that menace me at the parks. But that silly society I came from has so many up-tight people worrying about nudity and sex... imagine if you will, one of them, somehow appearing in my land! Can you imagine!? One of those same kind of busy-bodies that go around trying to close nudist beaches, close "adult" book-stores, stop nude dancing... If one of them took a stroll in a park here... WOW! That biddy would have to be locked up in an insanity ward! Once he or she (or it?) saw all those big naked women (and men) in a typical Central Capital park, that right there would make some of those type of people from my former society loose it! But if that did not do it, the sight of:
Women masturbating on tree limbs, sapling trees, sign-posts or backs of park benches, couples having sex under bushes, sometimes just in the open... those would do it!

Yet, I take all that easily. Oh, it was... surprising... at first, but I quickly got used to it. I pay no attention any more. I am so happy to be able to enjoy a park, free of menacing beast dogs, with the "only problem" being, naked folks and couples doing their pleasures in the open.

Those same people from my former society that get so upset about nudity and sex, seem to be okay about some big dog coming at them in a park.

Oh well! Like I said before, one man's junk is another man's treasure. May theirs be just as pleasurable. Enjoy getting bitten!

More benefits...

I don't have to watch what I eat. There's no meat anywhere, everyone is vegetarian. I can eat all the cake and ice-cream I want... use of the pedal-car everyday burns thousands of calories keeping me lean and fit.

Wearing brief clothing is comfortable, fun and just plain convenient. I don't have to do laundry! To wash a bikini, one just holds it under the faucet, and washes it with a little liquid soap and water. That's it, laundry done!

Pedal-cars are easy and inexpensive to maintain. With little trouble, one can service their own pedal-car. But, thanks to busy or lazy (or a little of both) people, pedal-car service jobs thrive well. For those who get their pedal-cars serviced professionally, the average bill of (rough equivalent in our financial terms) $50 to $200 is far less than for the typical automobile service. And you never have to stop for fuel!

Pedal-cars can be kept in apartments, houses, anywhere! They can be parked anywhere! This keeps streets clear of lines of parked cars like those that clutter the typical American city.

I could go on and on. The above is just the most obvious physical stuff. There are hosts of benefits of living in a society so metaphysically enlightened as these people are. Almost everyone can do out-of-body excursions. There are no religions per-say, not like we know them. No religious disputes, arguments, divisions or even wars. Every one here knows of the Universal Law of unselfishness (although they do not always obey it; but they know it, there's no arguing), karmic debt and credit, effects of past lives, real reasons for mental disturbances, ghosts and psychic phenomenon. Oh! It is such a pleasurable difference! These people are at least in dim light. Back in the former society, those people with their religious wars all over the place and medicine-based treatment of mental disorders and the rest of it, are in total DARKNESS!

I arrived at Brenda's business of pedal-car sales and service, "Big Brenda's Brands Car Store, and began my work there. Samirah had the same days I had at the other job, and I also assumed here; Wednesday through Sunday with Monday and Tuesday off.

That was Friday when I started.

The shop was like Elrod's, just slightly different faces and a little larger. I worked at a station next to Samirah. Wouldn't you know it, bolted to the floor, in the middle of the floor here, was one of those masturbation-things for the always horny women. Samirah never used it but the three big tall blondes that worked there did, often.
Just that first afternoon I was there, one used it two times and the others used it once each. Their plans worked. After each time masturbating on that pole, one of the two blond guys would sex with her. Brenda scolded occasionally about too many sex-breaks.

Of course first thing, when I arrived, the three blondes closed in on me. They are actually worse than the women at Elrod's. They began to pull at me, feel me up and jam my head between their breasts. All three were completely nude. Tan skin, long flowing blond hair and bodies of steel muscles; each of them could cause a man to melt down.
Samirah came to my rescue, scolding, "My gosh, it's his first day! Give him room!"

Samirah held her own against those three giants!
The three backed off, giving Samirah dirty looks.

I stayed close to Samirah to show them I was hers; it seemed to work. But every chance they got, they brushed me with their huge bosoms, threatened to straddle me or did straddle me rubbing a wet vagina on my side, purposely stood spread legged in my way, and other hassles. Brenda caught this once and gave the blond doing it a good tongue-lashing.

As I worked, and as my mind wondered, thinking of this and that, once my thoughts said, "No more big dogs, but now you have big, threatening women, quite capable of taking advantage of you sexually." But then I thought, "Getting my side rubbed by a hot, wet vagina, getting my head jammed between breasts, getting touched and felt over and pulled at by horny amazons is still a lot better than getting your flesh ripped off by some fool's monster dog".

Naturally that Friday night, I went home with Samirah to her apartment. Her apartment is only three miles away. She often just walks to work. She said, "This city's air is so clean, so invigorating! There is so much greenery and growing things! I just love to walk, both in the morning's freshness and evening's coolness. There are so many pedal-cars, they get mired in traffic, a traffic jam of pedal-cars. I make almost as good time walking!"

But I had my pedal-car. I could ride to her apartment, probably have a hard time finding it, and wait for her or she wait for me. But Samirah had a kind of nifty idea; a playful idea... Samirah asked big Brenda, "May Alex borrow your trailer one more day?"
"Sure, honey!" Brenda replied heartily, "Alex can keep it if he works here more than six months! How about that?"
"GREAT!" Samirah and I said in unison.

Samirah laid some packing cloths in my now-empty trailer. She found some packing foam of the right size for use as a pillow. She gave me general instructions to get to her apartment. She concluded with, "It'll take you at least thirty minutes to get through that mire of pedal-cars. When you turn left unto Ursa Street, pull over and wake me up. We'll just walk from there. It is only a short way but the streets are squiggly and complicated to describe. We can walk the pedal-car from there. Okay?"
"What will you do? In that trailer?" I asked, kind of curious.

She put her hands on her hips and took a contemplative pose. She stated, "I am going to lay in there, and bask in the happiness that we are at last together! I am going to enjoy the fact that it is your legs, your energy making us move! Its like your energy that will be moving that trailer carries love on its back, to me! I am going to bask in it, and quite probably fall asleep and have sweet dreams! It's the closest physical thing I can think of to be like the time, when I was spirit only, in your being, and you offered and protected me with The White Light along with yourself. That was so wonderful feeling! Being a spirit does have it's advantages. I could actually see your love for me, I could feel it! Well I feel it now too, but it is especially dramatic in that state. I could actually bathe in your love!"

Samirah leaned on me with her cute little supple lips ready for a kiss and her big brown eyes gazing right into mine. She asked, "Okay, Alex?"
Oh man! I melted! I agreed, "Okay!" as vigorously as I could in my weakened condition. I drew Samirah to me in a long, crushing hug, just like I had day-dreamed about so many times before. She felt so cute and cuddly in my bare arms and against my almost bare body, with her all wrapped up in abaya and hijab. I don't know who hugged harder, me, or Samirah. She returned a hug so hard I could hardly breathe! The excruciatingly sweet feeling translated itself into an almost painfully hard erection. My genital popped out of my bikini and pressed into Samirah's abaya into her crotch. She felt this, giggled and hugged harder, along with thrusting her crotch toward mine. The tip of my penis felt hot wetness soak through that cloth. I thrust a bit myself. I did indeed desire to penetrate her sweetness.
We thought we had privacy. The other workers had gone home and we were in the left-side alley of the store, where the employees parked their pedal-cars.

Big Brenda passed by on her way home too and saw us. And of course, her big mouth just had to say something... "Way to go, Alex! Drill a hole in it! You kids go home now and fuck hard! I want you all able to work tomorrow. We got cars back-logged ten days! Good night!"
"Good night!" Samirah and I both called back to Brenda. Samirah giggled while attempting to hide her face in me, but she was so tall, it was difficult to do so. "Oh well!" she laughed, and squeezed me again along with another thrust of her crotch into my pounding genital.

I was quite frankly getting into it. I rammed away at her crotch, actually beginning to push the cloth of her abaya into Samirah's vagina.
"Come on now Alex," Samirah's voice quivered out, "Let's go... we'll do this at home..."
"OOHHH!" I moaned, "Okay..."

But I could not stop. And neither could Samirah. I was pushing further and further up her soaking wet, hot vagina and it felt great. Samirah pushed at me feebly, then thrust some more herself.
So, there we were in that alley, visible from the street through a narrow passage, thrusting and carrying on with me thrusting away at the material of her abaya while standing.

Samirah popped first. I had worked over six inches of her abaya into her vagina. The material was soaked and pressed about my thrusting penis. It actually felt good! Her huffing suddenly turned into breathy squeals. She tried desperately to keep it down. Well, that did it for me. I moaned and wailed as I gushed right there, standing. The material of her abaya blocked most of the gushing semen so that it spilled to the ground.
"OH! That felt GREAT" is an understatement!

Both Samirah and I leaned on each other, with my back against a wall. She just continued to hang on me, my penis still in her along with her abaya. She smiled and giggled feebly and continued her embrace of me. We continued like that for some time until my penis naturally relaxed and slipped out of her opening.
Her abaya was pushed so far up there, she had to pull it out. "Ohhh!" she groaned and rolled her eyes, still leaning on me, "That felt kinda cool right there!"

Giggling and even out-right laughing, she said, "Golly, it looks like I wet myself!"
"Well," I replied, "In a way, you did! Well, let me take you home!"
"Can you, Alex?" Samirah asked sweetly, concerned for me, "I hear men gotta snooze a bit after fucking... I sure could use a nap myself!"
"Well, get in your trailer and lay down. Sleep!" I invited, "I'll get in the pedal-car and just sit a minute, then we'll go."
"Okay" Samirah agreed and finally let go her embrace of me. I had been in her arms continuously for maybe over twenty minutes. When she backed off, indeed I saw her abaya had a huge wet spot, was punched in looking, and soaked with semen. Thank goodness we were on our way home. She would not be seen in the trailer.

Giggling, Samirah entered the trailer and laid down. She looked cozy in there.
I entered my pedal-car, lay there a bit, then began my way to Samirah's home.
The route to Samirah's home was interesting... well, all pedal-car travel in the Central Capital is interesting to me, I guess due to still discovering new things. It is just the way Central Capital is... so much green, parks everywhere. One of the reasons Samirah makes almost as good time walking as by pedal-car, is when walking, she cuts straight through a park, one of many. The closest pedal-car route goes way around the park, using about six miles to her home.
And it was mired! I did not think a traffic jam of pedal-cars was possible. But so many of them on inadequate and very old, even ancient, streets caused the back-ups.
And it was largely up-hill! It was just as well we were going slow. That's about all the speed I could muster anyway. After all, my trailer had a 250 pound muscle-lady in it.

By the time we turned left onto Ursa Street, I was treated with a beautiful vista to the left. Our gained altitude gave a splendid view of the lower elevations of Central Capital. The sky was deep blue with a few little fragments of clouds that seemed to be not much higher than we were. The entire vista had a warm golden glow from the late afternoon sun. This has got to be the most beautiful city I have ever seen!

Lush bushes and many trees obscured the scene sometimes as I pedaled along. Finally, at a spot I could see the vista, I pulled over.
Walking to the trailer and opening it up, sure enough, Samirah slept beautifully. I woke her...

"Oh boy!" Samirah yawned out, stretching. "We're here already? Oh! How can I get out with this big wet spot?"

I opened my mouth to say something but Samirah interrupted saying, "I know, I know! Take it off and go naked!"
"How did you know?" I blurted then went "Oops!"

"Uhuh!" Samirah replied, knowing perfectly well.
Anyway, Samirah knew what to do. With nobody around, she got out of the trailer, and entered my pedal-car. She had to pull her abaya up past her knees to facilitate pedaling. But she was inside the pedal-car and so, private.
"I'll pedal very slow and you follow. It's complicated to describe." Samirah instructed.

She closed the pedal-car canopy and I closed the trailer. Slowly, she started off. I followed walking as she wound her way around tight turns, switch-backs and trundled along debris-strewn tiny trails of crumbling pavement. There were apartments mixed with many trees. Grass grew wild and there were many wild flowers.

Up we climbed more, good grief, up and up and up! We wound around and between many apartments. The hill was so steep, that each two-story apartment could view the vista over the roof of the apartment below it, from the ground floor.

Finally Samirah turned into an access road to a particular apartment building, a trail of crumbling pieces of pavement, pebbles and dirt. She passed five other units until stopping in front of, well, hers! There were two more apartments, then the road ended with an area of wild grass, flowers and forest just beyond it on a steep hill.

The canopy of my pedal-car opened and out climbed Samirah saying, "Alex, I think you're going to like this!"

Samirah almost stumbled getting out of my pedal-car. I caught her, but she almost knocked me down too. Gosh she's heavy. She leaned on me and gave me a quick, high suction kiss. "Lets go in and let me bathe and change this for heaven's sake." she said, motioning to her plain gray "work-abaya", with that huge wet spot in front.

I looked around. It was so peaceful. All that wild grass, flowers and bushes around, trees near by, and that splendid vista made me just plain feel great. I never have liked apartments, but I liked these.

"Now Alex," Samirah began, "You can hike around here, jog, what ever, and you'll meet other apartment dwellers from here doing same. And never any angry pets! There's a big gal or two that might pester you a bit, but just politely go your way, and they'll let you be. They're ladies about it. And the neighbors here are great. I know what you're thinking Alex. Such cheap apartments are bound to have drunken, violent and rowdy, big-dog-raising neighbors. But do not forget; and I had to keep reminding myself as well, we are in a very different place now. It is nothing like your America or my Iran! The neighbors here are relaxed, nice, quiet except for a little pipe-organ music sometimes, but I like it. Some guy here must have one hell of a stereo... or a real pipe-organ. I doubt the latter though; couldn't fit one in the apartment!"

"You seem to know my thoughts, my view point so well, Samirah" I commented, amazed on how she read my mind.
"Well, don't forget," she replied, "All those years I was literally IN your mind. I knew your every thought, fear, joy, hatred and love."
"Yeah, yeah," I thought, fascinated, "I... forgot that..."
"Alex," Samirah began again, "Your imagination must have really somehow been either a psychic... something or other about this place or those past-life-memories of here. When I lived in your thoughts, I visited the place on the astral plane where your imagination had constructed over the decades, actual places I could visit. It was not long after that, a small veer of vibration and consciousness, and I found a real physical plane that replicated your imagination-built one so precisely, that I scarce could tell the difference. That is when my Spirit Guides began to speak to me of actually assuming a body here. It took me a while to decide. I did not wish to leave you! Well, anyway, the point is, when I got here, all the problems and good points of this society were and are just as your imagination had indicated. Here, you will not ever get bitten by an angry dog, or run over by a car... although you can be bowled over by a pedal-car... pedal-cars always bowl people over if they hit. They are so streamlined and pointy in front, there's nothing there to hit someone square on. They always kind of roll someone to the side. So injuries are never severe. But this place has a problem with sex! Man! Does it ever!
My biggest problem at these apartments have been men, mostly Betaqh Race men, you know, my size, brown skin and black hair, coming to my apartment openly wanting to fuck! They'll come naked with there penises out, throbbing. But I'm as big and strong as they are, so I just tell them politely "no" and close the door firmly.
Now that other race is kind of big, but they're so gentle. You know those big blond Taqh Race guys? You're one of them. Anyway, they never bother me. If they come to my door, they sort of like beg. And they wear something, if very brief.
But the worst and peskiest of all has been a Betaqh woman! She's... some kind of lesbian or something. She wants girly-sex! She is very insistent. Every evening she comes. She'll use a flat... thingy to get past my lock; these doors only have the simplest locks. She squirms around, shakes her hips and starts to masturbate on my chair-backs. I'm forever having to tell her to leave. I hope you being here will keep her away!"

Samirah turned to open another door on her apartment other than the front door. "Here" she said, "Your pedal-car and I think... let me see..." she looked in to see how deep this pedal-car "garage" was, then reported, "Yes, it'll take pedal-car and trailer. Just roll them in there and lets go in!"

I did so, and as I did, I asked, "Uh, you don't have a pedal-car?"
"It's up in the living room. Hah! I didn't know about that garage thing until someone told me. I just dragged my pedal-car up the stairs and down the stairs every time I wanted to use it. Then later, when I got my job, and later found out I can just cut across that park down there, I began just walking. Even when it rains, I just use umbrella and rain-coat and walk. I just find it easier. When it rains, that traffic mire gets even worse. Nah! I don't need that. So my pedal-car just stays in the living room."
"But Samirah" I asked, "Everyday walking through that park, given the sexual propensities of these people, is it safe for you?"
"Is it safe for you?" echoed Samirah, "Ever since assuming this body, and discovering this society, the thing that stands out is the equal strength women have with men. I can whip, if it comes to that, any Betaqh man. So they don't bother me past begging. Only Taqh men, do I have to look out for, and they just don't seem interested. There's plenty of big naked Taqh women for them."
"So no one ever bothers you while passing through the park?" I asked to confirm.
"Nope!" Samirah cheerfully assured, "Just a lot of "hi"s. I see couples fucking in the open just off the trail, mostly those big Taqh Race. But they don't bother anybody, just takes getting used to.
Golly, those big Taqh women just wander about all the time, naked, and masturbating on anything. They do it on purpose in front of men to get them going. Seems like they think of nothing else! Betaqh Race are somewhat better. They are a little more refined and particularly, don't fuck in the open.
If I was to worry about anyone, I would worry about you, Alex, should you start walking through that park. Better walk with me, or if you go alone, wear one of those robes many Betaqh men are wearing now. They're kinda cool anyway. Makes you look wise... even though you might be dumb... well, not you Alex, but some of those guys...
Nah, I talk too much! Let's go in Alex, I'll bathe then wear a real nice hijab and abaya for you! Lets go!"
"Oh you can talk as much as you want, Samirah!" I said as I followed her in, then added, "Sure is pretty out here!"
"Wait 'till you see it from upstairs in the living room!" Samirah said.

The view from Samirah's living room was grand indeed. The living room opened to a simple balcony through sliding glass doors. And indeed, there sat, parked next to a wall where normally a sofa might go, Samirah's shiny light-blue and white pedal-car. The sofa was in the middle of the living room, facing the sliding glass doors. The sofa also served as a kind of divider between kitchen and living room which had no wall or divider of any kind.

The living room is upstairs. Downstairs are two bed chambers with small windows only. They are indeed only for sleeping; they are kind of dark even in mid-day. The bathroom is down stairs too and has no windows. Upstairs has kitchen which has no doorway to the living room. There is no dining room per-say except the kitchen had extra space for a dining table.
The apartment is compact and narrow. Each apartment has up and downstairs. So no one lives over or below. That eliminates 90 percent of apartment-type noises. There is also a basement, unfinished, no windows and dark, good only for storage... and getting scared!

I noticed each apartment's roof (from observing the one below us down the hill) had arrays of photo-voltaics (solar batteries) and solar-thermal collectors for heating water. My apartment is also so equipped. Many apartments have these. The photo-voltaics on each apartment are often not enough to meet the apartment dweller's needs. But it keeps the electric bill way down.
Electricity for the city comes from massive solar-battery farms that cover hundreds of acres. Massive public electrical storage systems compliment the solar-farms and keep the city supplied all day. I found out that the entire city and nation is 80 percent solar powered with 20 percent coming from hydroelectric plants. They have no fossil fuels at all. Nuclear seems to be non-existent.

Samirah went in the bathroom wearing her abaya and hijab and began her bath. I just sat in a sofa and viewed the scenery. The golden wash from the evening sun slowly became orange then reddish. I fell asleep.

A big naked brown-skinned woman with wet, freshly shampooed hair woke me up. For the first time, I had a good look at Samirah's hair. Midnight black, it was somewhat frizzy, not lank and straight like most Betaqh race around here. Mid-length and about her strong shoulders, its many waves and curls were cute. I was somewhat surprised she had not put anything on at all.
"Take a bath too, Alex, then join me..." Samirah said in a low, steamy voice.
"Uh oh" I thought.
"I asked, "I don't have a change of clothes..."
"What clothes?" Samirah interrupted, "You just have that bikini. Take it off, I'll wash it under the sink. Now go take a bath."

I stripped in front of her. She snatched the bikini from me and I went on downstairs to bathe.

I thought in the bathroom to... well, actually, talking to my genital, I said, "Strap on your skates, boy, you're goin' in!"

I finished, dried off, and with no clothes at all, I just exited and went up stairs. Thinking of Samirah's vagina had me hard by the time I got up there. And there she was, still naked, sprawled out on the sofa with a steaming vagina waiting...

Neither one of us said anything. I just positioned myself over Samirah, and slowly pushed my throbbing genital in. Oohhh, I nearly fainted right there! Well...

Night view from Samirah's Apartment
That night turned into a fuck-feast! I don't think one intelligent word was spoken in three hours. Just one session after another of huffing, puffing moaning and screeching with intermissions of quiet and near snoring took place. We would fuck ourselves out, sleep a bit, then start all over again. Finally, at about something like 10 or 11 o-clock, we managed a supper. We sat at the table eyeing each other's nude body and not saying much. After supper, it was back to fucking.

We went through three more sessions before at last succumbing to sleep. We never went to bed, just fell across each other on the floor of the living room.

Saturday morning's early sunlight, deep red-orange, emerged from distant mountains to the east, streaked over the lower areas of Central Capital and into our living room. I had a morning hardening that Samirah wasted no time in allowing her vagina to wolf up. Two more sessions finally had us fucked out enough to rest a bit, and get ready for work.

As she made breakfast, Samirah began giggling, then out loud laughing. She laughed, "I never did show you my nice abaya. Now its time for work, and I'll have to put on another gray work-one. Oh well, tonight!"

We hiked to work together. She had washed my bikini the evening before and it had already dried (just takes an hour). So, dressed in bikini next to Samirah in gray abaya and white hijab, we walked to work, mostly steep down-hill, through the park and on to the pedal-car service center.

I put in my second day at Brenda's or my first full day. It was so sweet working next to Samirah. She always rolled up the sleeves of her abaya to work, exposing beautifully sculpted, brown arms.

But those three blondes were a bother indeed. Every time I left my station and Samirah's protection to get parts, special tools or whatever, one of those three would hassle me.

I was getting a part from the parts-bins and one of the blondes drew me next to her where she felt over my butt.

"Why don't you just go ahead and fuck her?" advised one of the guys. "They're just curious. Fuck every one at least once, then I think they'll stop."
"They are too BIG for me!" I insisted.
"I'll be gentle!" the blond that had me said, then drew me in her bosom. I squirmed out of her arms. She followed but ran into Samirah...
"Leave him ALONE ya big palooka!" she scolded fiercely.
"Make me, miss prissy cloth-head!" the towering blond threatened.
I came in this time and scolded "Don't you dare threaten her!"

The other two blondes came and pulled at the misbehaving one. One said, "Cindy! You're over-stepping your bounds. Back off!"

This "Cindy" yanked her arms from the hands of the other two but did calm down. "Okay!" she said. "I'm Sorry Alex. I'm sorry Samirah." Then she went back to her work station.

I was a little bit surprised. In my former society, I do not think the misbehaving one would so quickly calm down. But this is a different society, the nation of Shasheer. These people are quick to peace.

I was the one who could not let go. I was fuming just a little, plus curious. I suggested to the guy that suggested to me to go ahead and sex with her, "Why don't you fuck with her?"
"Little friend," he replied sternly, "George and I have each fucked them three or four times each this morning alone! That's a total of something like twelve times! We're worn down!"
"This place needs more guys!" the one apparently name George said, "There's too many women here. Anyone knows it takes two guys to adequately handle one woman anyway. And here we got only two men who can really fuck, and three extra horny bitches. And just thank goodness Brenda doesn't get after us for sex too!"
"Well," replied the first one, "Brenda did hire Alex. You gotta pull your weight there, Alex."
"Uh, like, Hello!" I commented sarcastically, "I came here to work on pedal-cars! Not fuck!"
"Well sure, officially..." he replied, "But you see the situation here and yet you are so up-tight. Don't buy in to that load o' shit those Betaqh folks are peddlin'! Sex is fine! Fuck all you want! Have fun!"
"But they are too big!" I insisted.
"They're gentle! I've seen 'em fuck with Betaqh guys, and they're as small as you!"
"Oh leave him be" one of the blondes said, "If he does not want to do us, its okay, we'll just masturbate. Maybe he'll loosen up later. He just started here for goodness sake."

Whew! Finally that settled it. I did not like the way George said "only two men who can really fuck" but... in a way, he is right. I am just not willing. Or ready. Give me time, I just got here after living 47 years in a sexually up-tight and hypocritical society. Anyway, it calmed down after that.

That evening Samirah and I walk-commuted back home. The return home was, of course, entirely steep uphill.

Samirah had plenty to say about those three blondes and related situations after we got home that evening. She preached and preached. Basically, she indeed feels there is too much run-away indulgence in sex here, so she agrees with the new spiritualist movement among mostly, the Betaqh Race.
But... it was not long after bathing that we sat next to each other, nude, watching another beautiful sun-set from her apartment's living room. Shortly after that, Samirah and I were having another fuck-feast. Not as vigorous as the one the night before, but it wore us out!

Sunday, our final day of work before "our" weekend, passed smoothly. The three tall blondes eyed me hungrily, but kept their paws off. I stayed close to Samirah who accompanied me to the parts bins, my most common reason for leaving my work station and thus, the protection of Samirah.

After our commute-hike home up that steep hill, it was showers and another night of nudity. Everyday I had worn the same bikini, washing it under the faucet each evening. Samirah had real laundry with her abayas and hijabs.

Our intense sex was slowing down to a more sane pace that included hours of just basking in each other's arms. That also allowed me to enjoy the sights of the vista the apartment over-looked, and stroll some in the section of woods next to the apartments.

I even enjoyed the sight of Samirah's own nude body more. Before, I had just been diving in, penis-first, into her opening. But now I actually had the chance to look over her gorgeous body...
Dark-brown skin, tall with well formed muscles, and black, frizzy hair was an impressive sight. Her thighs and legs along with her steel butt bulged with powerful muscle.

Samirah's curly black hair was a bit unusual. Most Betaqh Race, both men and women, have smooth black hair, much like a Chinese or Native American. It was cute somehow, the way her curly, full bodied hair framed her face.

I had told her of my previous commitment for Monday morning, tomorrow, at Park NW105.
"We'll go ahead and go, together. It'll be fine!" Samirah assured.

Monday morning, Samirah brought her pedal-car downstairs to the outside. I brought out my pedal-car from the "garage". Samirah was buck naked which sort of surprised me. But I have to keep reminding myself that she has adopted a more sensible attitude toward this new Betaqh fad of dressing conservatively. She does not mind nudity, but does indeed keep herself covered in wide open public places. She allows herself nude in front of people she knows. This includes immediate neighbors, coworkers and myself.

Wow! In that early morning sun, her brown skin, hard curvy muscles and that full-bodied head of black frizzy hair gave her a wild cave-girl look. I almost had to look away because I began to harden up and I did not wish to pursue sexual activity at that time. Anyway, she placed her clothes, the hijab and abaya that she would put on after arrival to the park, in the tiny trunk of her pedal-car then climbed in. I climbed in my pedal-car and we were off.

The effect of Samirah's impressive leg-muscle development became very evident during the eleven miles to the park. We used a sort of "pedal-car highway", wider and straighter than typical roads, for most of the distance. While on the highway, Samirah quickly obtained the equivalent of 48 miles per hour and held it. She drafted me (stayed in front of me reducing my wind-resistance) while I struggled mightily to keep up! Wow! Horse-power legs! Samirah doesn't need an engine!

At Park NW105, Samirah used a facility of a type that has been becoming more and more common. My imagination "detected" it and appears in other stories. It turns out to be real...

Upon entering the park, Samirah steered her pedal-car to this building that had a number of stalls. She drove up into one stall. She pressed a button to make the door close. What happens after the door closes she described for me...
Coins are deposited to lock the door and make the stall private for a maximum of 15 minutes although most people use less time than that. Samirah (or other man or woman practicing the wearing of these highly conservative clothes) steps out of the pedal-car and showers and dries. Clean, she takes the hijab and abaya out of the pedal-car trunk and puts them on. She presses a button for the doors to open. She rolls out the pedal-car and secures it in nearby pedal-car parking (those rows of cubbyholes).

Samirah emerged in a shimmering lime-green abaya with dark-green trim. Her hijab was snow-white with a pretty lace border. I've never seen anything so cute and pretty and precious. There is a lot to be said for "macro" clothes!
Dressed in my bare whisper of a bikini, I took up my position at the side of this magnificent lady. We found a picnic table and relaxed.

"Look at those, Alex," Samirah pointed out, "They're hand-cars. They look like that... Japanese or Chinese thing, from our old world..."

Yes, it looked like my imagination scored another hit. Just like in some of my stories, the rickshaw-looking devices were a favorite at parks. Sure enough, big, powerful and sexy Pullers, mostly blond-haired or light-brown-haired Taqh Race women with sparkling blue eyes, were available to pull leg-weary visitors around the park on leisurely rides down scenic trails. Americans come to parks to exercise. Central Capital people come to parks to NOT exercise!

At last I could do with Samirah another something I daydreamed endlessly about. There were a few spare hand-cars without Pullers, for renting out. They may be rented out to people to do their own pulling (a rarity, actually).

I rented one, invited my precious Samirah to take a seat, and I gave her a ride. She looked so sweet and elegant, sitting in that seat all dressed and covered, while I pulled. My genital hardened up, stretching my bikini out of shape. A nuisance actually, I really did not want that at the time. Fortunately there was no one else on the trail. And as long as I did not turn around, Samirah did not see it. I pulled vigorously to hopefully sap my genital's energy and make it go down. Don't know why, after all that fucking and time in Samirah's vagina, that thing still wants more. It's already a little blistered!

I had to keep the trip short, Samirah reminded me, because we were to meet those folks a nine o-clock and it was almost nine now. I turned the hand-car around.

Sure enough, Jackie and Kathy with that man (Bruce) from Elrod's were there. Jackie commented in her calm and mature voice, "She is a most beautiful and elegant lady! What's her name?"

We were all introduced and then began the day. Kathy kept acting a little jealous but Bruce kept the two ladies with him satisfied sexually... with the help of sapling trees and backs of park benches... (I'll not go into that again!)

Jackie and Kathy were fully nude including no jewelry. Bruce wore a thong bikini. They hired hand-cars to pull them around the park. I followed in my rental hand-car pulling precious Samirah myself.

It went well! No problems. I satisfied the strong willed Jackie's expectation that I will be there, and she and Kathy saw I was taken.

On Tuesday, Samirah and I went on our own direction together into the country of the Central Mountains Republic... er, wait... Shasheer! Anyway, Samirah and I visited some far flung wilderness areas that we had all to ourselves. Casual strolling was interrupted often by sex. After the third time taking her abaya off to accommodate me, (Samirah did not want this fine abaya stained with vaginal juice or semen) Samirah finally just went nude. She took off her hijab and we left her clothes hanging on the limb of a tree. No one else was around. I couldn't get enough of that big, brown athletic body. With Samirah's wild looking frizzy black hair and that "heavy-duty" cunt, I could not stop. I literally fucked until my penis blistered.

On Wednesday it was back to work. Wednesday and Thursday evenings I moved my belongings from my own apartment to Samirah's apartment. I did not have that much, I basically had been sleeping on a bare floor in a sleeping bag.
Then I was completely moved in with Samirah and... very, very, extremely happy... to make an understatement!

But in this sexually open society, it was bound to happen, a serious approach or, it seemed at the time, attack, on Samirah and I...

I do not know what pull this woman had on me. I had shrugged off all those excruciatingly sexy amazon blondes that roam the place, naked and horny. I also shrugged off those dazzling Betaqh Race women, slinky in their split-to-the-waist long dresses and long smooth black hair with bluish sheen.

But this particular woman, a Betaqh Race, pulled me in like a magnet. But more on her in a bit. First I gotta think...

There's something else I don't understand... Forty-seven years I lived in the other society... not one woman to form with me, any relationship worth mentioning. Then I come here via some weird astral-way, and I have more women coming at me than I know what to do with! Is it this fantastic body I have now?
Actually, not that fantastic. It is really average in build, muscles and general over-all appearance. And obviously, way small for a Taqh Race male. My body's size put me at a level with those slinky, oriental looking Betaqh women which explains some of that, but not all of it.

In the other society, I started out skinny. I blamed that for my lack of girl-friends in high-school and college. But that was not quite it... I saw skinnier men, runt men, and just plain ugly men all with girls hanging on to them. So... my skinniness wasn't the whole story.

Living in my proper society now, and knowing all about the astral birthing mistake, I have formed a theory...
My soul, my energy body and all of its attendant memories, past-life line-up and everything else was detected on an unseen level, by girls I met. There was just something they did not feel comfortable with about me... I guess. Basically, I was an alien, and they detected it unconsciously.

Well, back to this Betaqh nemesis...

After a total of seven weeks in Shasheer and my correct society, and three weeks with Samirah, a Betaqh Woman came in, as a customer, to have her pedal-car serviced...

She came in leading big Brenda behind her, to the service-work-area; with us. We all looked up from our work as did I whenever that imposing Brenda comes in alone, and especially now with that... that... magnet-woman... that came in with Brenda.

She had short, deep-black straight hair, long bangs, and strong looking face with penetrating eyes. Her hair was somewhat "Cleopatra-like" in appearance, though that stereotype does not exist in this society. She wore a dark-blue, tight fitting dress that had cutouts for the breasts to poke through (a breast-less blouse) and split all the way down the sides from her waist. Thin straps went over her broad, strong shoulders.

A look at various pictures of Cleo.
She looked straight at me... straight at me... I can't put into words the effect... she pointed at me and said to Brenda, "That one! I want him to service my car!"
"It's gotta be him?" asked Brenda kindly.
"Yes!" she said as she slinked up to me... right up to me... her face to mine and my eyes were grabbed by hers...
I got chills, my penis almost rocketed up, stretching my bikini to near ripping then springing out. I turned my body but she grabbed me and said, "I can take care of that..."

"Leave him alone!" Samirah said strongly but in a low voice.

OH! My Knightess in shining armor rescues me again. I was confident on Samirah's ability to handle this one because they were of the same size.

"Do you claim him as your property?" softly asked this magnetizing woman that had me in her grip.

"No but..." Samirah began.
"So you have no say! It is up to him..." that woman breathed.

She stood next to me and I swear, some kind of energy entered me. I tried to back off. Samirah pulled me and I helped her pull away from that... woman.
Samirah drew me into her abaya covered bosom and hugged. I looked away from that woman and hugged Samirah, seeking her protective embrace. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore. My penis throbbed painfully, and deposited little wet spots on the front of Samirah's abaya.

That woman approached me again, I could feel it.
"Get AWAY!" Samirah ordered.

By this time, all the other Servicers, the three big blondes included, were watching. Maybe they hoped for a cat-fight show.

Brenda had seen enough. She said, "Uh, okay now, Miss. Maybe this is not such a good idea. He seems frightened of you!"
That woman turned to Brenda and said, "He is not frightened of me, but of his own true feelings! He is frightened he may prefer me greatly over this delightfully precious but alas, alien, woman!"
"What do you mean alien?" Brenda asked quite innocently curious.

Samirah's mouth dropped open. Actually this Betaqh bitch hit it right on! Samirah, in actuality of soul, was an alien here, as I was back in the other world.

And, as to the feelings... (gulp)... there was a pull, an intense attraction... to this Cleopatra-looking Betaqh woman.

She approached a defensive Samirah with me still huddling in her arms looking away. She said to Samirah softly, "An alien to our way..."
She gazed at Samirah, riveting her eyes as well, and continued, "It is okay, Precious, I will not take him from you. But he needs me too. He needs guidance. If you are truly a great woman, you will release him just a little to me. We can all three be happy and well together. You too, need guidance for you are not native to our world..."
Samirah was spell-bound holding on to me. That woman blew a kiss, not to me, to Samirah. With that, she turned and left.

Even big-mouth Brenda did not know what to say. Whomever she was, left her pedal-car, supposedly for me to service... as she had requested.

Finally Brenda tapped me on the shoulder to get me to turn my head to look at her so that she could ask me, "Are ya... do you wanna service her car?"
Still in Samirah's arms, I gulped and replied in a gravely voice that I went "ahem!" to clear, "Yeah, sure, why not?"

Slowly Samirah let go of me and I let go of her. I went back to work.

I finished the pedal-car I was on and rolled up the deep crimson red one that was left by that... magnetic... woman. The customer name, Cleo!
Hmmm! Now what's going on now... the name of my Grand Mother was Cleo. Or, Cleo is short for Cleopatra...

Samirah said, almost protesting, "Must you work on that bitch's car right away?"
"It says "rush"" I replied, showing Samirah the work-order-tag.

It was a great pedal-car. All the best materials, light, strong, transmission parts light and strong, a lot of this comfort and that comfort, it even had a form of air-conditioning... When engaged, the seat itself cools. The compressor is driven by the pedaling. It robs a bit of power from making the pedal-car move, but on a hot day (rare but they do occur here) it can be a big help.

I had to adjust toe-in and alignment of the two front wheels and replace a stripped gear. The force required to strip a gear made of duralmite had to be huge indeed. But "Cleo" had a pair of legs on her that... well, if those muscles flexed full power on those pedals, they might could do it. The high-end pedal-car was well designed for servicing as well. It was a pleasure to work on. Some cheap pedal-cars are dogs to work on... bolts break, bolt-heads strip, get rusted in, parts or adjustment points inaccessible and other head-aches.

After I finished Cleo's pedal-car and rolled it away, Samirah seemed relieved and worked better at her station.

Samirah had a lot to say about Cleo as we walked home from work, breathless, climbing that steep hill...
"Something about her... Obviously you felt it!" Samirah pondered, "I felt it too. She's powerful. Golly! Those eyes! The way she... stood, looked right in my eyes... I got... sexy feeling, my vagina got wet. Yet, I felt no evil, if anything, a kind of caring! I just didn't like the way she got to you. She could do anything to you!"
"I was helpless Samirah!" I confessed, "She could have... done anything with me had you not been there. I need your help on this one."
"Don't worry, Alex," Samirah promised, "You'll have it!"

A surprise two days later when Cleo picked up her pedal-car: In to the service shop she came again, dressed in hijab and abaya!

Her deep maroon abaya had black lace borders, some with pretty glass baubles hanging from it. Her hijab was deep velvet black with deep purple lace border. She had bracelets on wrists and ankles that jingled as she moved. And, she came right toward me!

"Is this better, Alex?" she asked in a low purring voice.
"Uh... Uh..." is all I could say.
I suffered, I say, suffered a painfully engorged erection that popped out of my bikini. The blondes immediately hooted "Mount 'im! Jump on him!"

A strong brown arm came around my waist and pulled me firmly back and turned me around and with that, I was in Samirah's bosom, protected. My engorged penis whomped against her tummy and was actually in the way, like having a thick wooden rod between us. With her strong brown arms bared from her sleeves rolled up, Samirah held me tight. I looked away from Cleo.

Cleo approached us and said, "Your woman there is sweet in her outfit, and you seem to cherish her, so I got a fancy outfit like that for myself... and her..."

And I'll be darned if that surprise-laden Cleo presented from a bag she was carrying, a package containing the same type of hijab and abaya outfit Cleo was wearing!

"If it does not fit, I can exchange it. But you seem to be my size and it is not like abayas are close fitting you know..." Cleo said that smiling sweetly.

Samirah at first glared at Cleo and her gift. Cleo insisted, speaking to Samirah lovingly, "Please, Precious, take this. I do not want to have any advantage over you with Alex. I love both of you! And put on your outfit this evening. Alex there will melt! Bye!"

Cleo slinked and jingled out. She paid for her pedal-car and left.

Samirah picked up the package and looked at it, pondering. "Huh" she muttered, surprised at this herself.

I was in trouble in Samirah's bosom. My penis was ready to explode. It burned and ached. The tip dribbled out pre-sex-juice as I call it. It was leaving wet marks on Samirah's abaya.
"Samirah!" I whispered to her, "I gotta fuck! Now! Let me enter!"
"Alex!" Samirah protested, whispering forcefully, "We're at work! And your arousal is from another woman... but... she's got me hot too... I don't know what it is about her, but we can't do it here!"
"But they do it all the time!" I reminded her. In fact, just a few minutes before Cleo came, we had a "show", one of the blondes with George.

Samirah seemed intrigued.
Her particular work area had a big structure next to it. The structure was a "Front-End Alignment Tester". It had a big conveyor belt that the pedal-car would roll on and a cushioned bumper to hold the rear of the pedal-car under test. Rolling the conveyor belt at about forty miles per hour, front-end resistance was measured. The pedal-car was held in place by the cushioned bumper at the pedal-car's rear. A Servicer could do minute tweaking of the toe-in on the fly and thus obtain a precise toe-in adjustment.

Anyway, Samirah's work station being behind this big gizmo and at the end-wall anyway, gave her a semi-private little niche. That is why she selected this work station out of four other vacant ones when she was first hired.

We noticed two of the Servicers, a guy and one of the blondes, had left to go outside to get something to eat during their break. George and two other blondes were absorbed in their work (for once) and at the other end of the service area.

"Come on Alex" Samirah whispered finally, gently pulling me back as far into her niche as she could. She reached to the hem of her abaya and pulled it up, up and over her head, revealing her luscious powerful brown physique.

"Okay Alex, go to it! Knock yourself out!" Samirah whispered.
With both of us standing, her back against the wall, I jammed that throbbing chunk of flesh on me deep into Samirah's soothing vagina. Her vagina was hot and already slicked up. OOHHH! I almost did get knocked out! Such soothing relief had my eyes watering and I could not see clear. We tried to keep it down but her vagina slurped loudly. Vagina juice dripped to the floor. That thing on me blew up with gobs of pleasure and semen gushing. It over-flowed her vagina and spilled to the floor. I moaned loudly and nearly fainted. Samirah held me up as she too began loud moaning. Our orgasms lasted unusually long.

It left us spent and leaning on each other, near collapsing. I stole a glance to the side. One of those blondes was peering in our niche smiling impishly. "Oh well" I thought, "Everybody does it in the open around here."

Using tissues from a box of them, Samirah cleaned herself off as did I. She slipped her abaya back on. I wiped the mess off the floor.
Samirah slumped on her stool to rest a few minutes. She had a quiet and contented look on her face. I had to sit a while too. If the two blondes saw it, they were not saying. And I'm sure they did see it, for I saw one blond, and surely that loud-mouth told the other and possibly the guy.

That evening, Samirah and I hiked up that steep hill through the park to home. Samirah carried her gift.

After bathing, Samirah eagerly tried her gift on. Wow! It did for her like Cleo's did for Cleo. And indeed, the outfits were the same. Even the accessories like the bracelets for wrists and ankles, were the same and included.

Samirah modeled it while I ogled. I became aroused. Since I was naked, Samirah saw my arousal and wasted no time stripping her nice clothes and swallowing me up, penis first.

Somehow, that Cleo had our names and probably, knew where we lived. Samirah did not want me alone with Cleo under any circumstance.

Work was covered, Samirah went with me to work and was with me all day.
But if there were errands that required leaving the apartment to do, I did them. (Samirah did them before). That way, I would be moving around to store to store or whatever, and Samirah would be home to take on any possible appearance of Cleo. If I was at home, alone, that Cleo could descend on the apartment and have me for her dinner!

One day I had gone out for groceries. I brought a big haul of them back using the pedal-car trailer. I began bringing them up the stairs to the kitchen, and who should meet me on the stairs and offer to help... Cleo!

There she was, Cleopatra hair-cut and all. She wore an abaya only, having removed her hijab. The abaya was deep midnight blue with black trim.
I began, "Uh..."
"Never you mind, Alex!" Cleo replied kindly, "Hurry to your Samirah! I'll take care of these..."

Cleo glided gracefully down the stairs while I took my arm-full of groceries up to the kitchen. Then I went to the living room and a contented looking Samirah.

Samirah lay on the couch, nude, partially covered with a blanket. She smiled big and sweet and said, "Surprise!"

Samirah looked sexy and cute, with that big brown muscle-physique and her black frizzy hair framing her round face. "Come and sit, Alex!" she invited.

I sat next to the sofa on the floor (Samirah occupied all the sofa) waiting for an explanation.

Samirah seemed quiet and contented as she scratched my back gently, an action she knew I relished. No explanation was forth coming so I tried jarring it out of her...
I simply asked, "Samirah, why is she here?"
"Oh man! Alex!" she began, "That will take some explaining. For now, lets just accept her hospitality. I... am foreign... alien... to this culture. Unlike you, I do not have a history of past lives here. I am strictly from Earth, at least for my last several dozen incarnations I would guess. You, on other hand, should quickly come to understand, this is natural for this society. You just forgot it after that 47 years of repression you suffered on Earth."
"I thought this was Earth... it's future maybe." I began.
"No Alex," Samirah explained, "That's your explanation for the source of all that you received through your imagination. Remember, as a spirit, I spent a long time in your thoughts. I am as familiar with what you think as yourself!" Samirah smiled impishly as she said that.

It is unusual to have a lady friend that knows all your thoughts; great ones, good ones, fair ones, not-so-good-ones, bad ones, awful ones, and your skeletons-in-closets!

Samirah continued, "This I am sure, is another planet and I think, in another galaxy altogether. We coexist in time with Earth, but we are very far away! And Cleo agrees with me."

"Cleo!?" I asked amazed at Samirah's acceptance of her, "you spoke of this with her?"
"She started it!" Samirah insisted, "Listen, Alex, you said yourself you are loosing the ability to go out of body. I am too. Cleo says it is from too much fucking. It grounds you and lowers vibration. She laid out some methods to go out of body again. But anyway, Cleo can go out of body easily, and can even become visible while projecting. She has all this down firm! And, Oh! She is so powerful! She's a great and wondrous soul, at a very high level of evolvement! And... she has been your Mother, or caring instructive and, necessary for being instructive, dominant, Wife over many pervious incarnations. The past several recent incarnations she has been your Wife. She missed you this incarnation. But then she says she found you finally, alone and lost on Earth. She projected to you during a dream you had while you were on Earth, years ago. Do you remember a vivid dream about a blond woman?"
"As a matter a fact, I do!" I said excited, recalling the most vivid dream of my life "That was her!?"
"Apparently so!" Samirah replied, excited herself, "Okay Alex, shh! She's coming up the stairs. What did you have her do anyway?"
"Oh!" I exclaimed getting up from beside Samirah, "I better help! She's bringing in the groceries!"

I stepped to the stairway to help bring up groceries. It dawned on me she had been gone a while. But there she was; She had unhitched the trailer, and was now pulling the entire trailer up the stairs!

"Uh, let me help!" I offered.

"No Alex," Cleo replied, turning to me with such a warm smile, "This is no trouble at all. Didn't you know your apartment had this?"
"Had what?" I asked, curious.
"Trailer-rails!" Cleo answered, "So that the trailer doesn't go whomp! whomp! whomp! all the way up the stairs making it hard to pull!"

Sure enough, Cleo was pulling the pedal-car's trailer up the stairs. The trailer's four wheels were rolling on rails; flat planks that is, that apparently opened down from the wall on either side of the stair-case. This effectively turned the stairs into a ramp with stairs still exposed in the very middle. The trailer straddled remaining exposed stairs which is what Cleo was stepping on. So she was between rails, pulling the trailer up. This saved a lot of trips up and down carrying little arm-fulls of groceries. Yes, it took a bit of a tug to get the trailer up such a steep incline, but, it was nothing Cleo, Samirah, or myself couldn't handle with our athletic fit bodies. And... If you do get tired and need a breather...

"And in case you don't remember, Alex," Cleo began, "If you must, you can stop pulling a minute and take a rest, thus..."

She let go of the trailer and it did NOT go scurrying down the stairs. As it turned out, a setting, a lever-switch under the rear of the trailer can be moved to a position which activates all trailers' "auto-reverse-brake" feature. When engaged, any backing up engages a brake on the trailer's rear wheels, holding the trailer in place.
Smiling cheerfully at me as I gazed in amazement at having learned this little tid-bit of useful knowledge, Cleo continued pulling. It got all the groceries up in one trip. With the trailer next to the kitchen, we simply took groceries from the trailer and shelved or refrigerated them right there.

Cleo showed me the lever on the trailer, and the rails of the stairway. The rails simply fold up to the wall. When folded, they look like wall-trim or something. That's why Samirah and I never noticed. "Almost all apartments or houses with kitchens up stairs have the rails." Cleo concluded.

Then I remembered, at the job, Cleo did say something about "guidance", for both Samirah and I! And sure enough! This little tid-bit was indeed useful. Until now, I had no idea I could have been pulling the trailer up those rails. Even my imagination missed that one! All this time I had been carrying groceries up the stairs, one pitiful armful at a time. You see? That's a carry-over from the way it is done in the automobile driven United States of Earth. These people here don't just plop the pedal-car into an automobile infrastructure, they developed the pedal-car over thousands of years along with an infrastructure to go with it. It all works together pretty well... if one can remember it, that is!

[And strangely enough, I did indeed feel like I had been reminded of something I already knew but long forgot. Once Cleo began pointing out and explaining, it all cascaded in. I think the reason for that perhaps is the physical brain of Steve whom my present body formally was, already knew it! Anyway it was like being reminded of something I already knew, but forgot due to years of disuse.]

The only remaining thing I was curious about is, if Cleo could do this so fast, what took her so long? Samirah and I gabbed for almost ten minutes. I asked Cleo, carefully, "Samirah and I yaked away for a while. With that method, with the rails, you could have gotten the trailer up here right away..."
Cleo smiled, almost laughing and replied, "I simply gave you time to talk with Samirah so she could convince you I am not some kind of home-wrecking whore. Sorry about my rudeness before, at your job... When I first laid eyes on my you, my precious treasure, I forgot all and became totally absorbed in self. I wanted you back right away. I forgot how much Samirah meant to you, and how much Samirah needs you. She gave you comfort and love during your time of loneliness. She stayed with you and you honored her. She came into this society for you. I just hope you all can accept me as part of family, and let me... guide... where necessary...

Cleo's strong kind face was so inviting. I began to harden up right there. She had a powerful loving spirit that literally produced observable effects. And now, it began to appear, she would not have to be a forbidden treasure. Both Samirah and I could enjoy her loving grace... Well... Whew!

So Cleo continued, "Anyway, I just wanted to give you and Samirah a few minutes. I just strolled around a while. Also, I had a little trouble finding your rope-hitch for hand-pulling. It was jammed all the way up into a niche in the front of the trailer."

Cleo spoke of the rope with which she pulled the trailer. It appears pedal-car trailers are designed primarily for pulling behind pedal-cars of course, but for quite a bit of hand-pulling as well. All trailers have hitches that detached for a rope-hitch for hand-pulling. And that would be another final bit of knowledge. I had no idea of the rope hitch.

Indeed, it did look like Samirah and I needed a "guide": Me, because I have not been here all during my present earth-plane incarnation, and Samirah, simply because she is... well, alien.
By the way, "Earth-Plane" refers to any physical planet of a physical star system anywhere in the physical-plane's universe. The Earth-Plane could be Earth itself, Mars, Jupiter, a planet around another star or in another galaxy. In short, anything physical.

Cleo insisted many times for Samirah and I to sit on (or in front of) the couch watching the sun-set or... other activity... while she prepared a dinner for us. Cleo took off her dark blue abaya to do so, leaving her naked. Tall, brown-skinned and athletic, Cleo had a body that would cause a melt-down... but as much so and no more so than Samirah. Only the hair styles were different.

I asked Cleo about that dream I had; the one Samirah said Cleo herself mentioned. Back in about 1977 or there abouts, I had the most vivid dream of my life. I'll never forgot it. I described it briefly and Cleo quickly caught on.
She responded, "Yes, yes, Alex, that was me..."
"Why did you have blond hair?" I asked, interrupting.
Cleo replied, "The people of your surrounding society had light colored or blond hair. I changed my appearance to approximate what I saw in your mind and around you. As you know, one may shape change while out of body. Anyway...
I came to you in a dream. I was consciously out of my body. I longed for you and I wished so bad to find you. I checked with my Spirit Guides and yes, you were supposed to be born here, with me. But it did not happen. With a thought, while out of body, I came to you. I came to you many times, it was the only way I could see you. Finally, I timed to come to you while your energy body was hovering over your physical during your sleep. I could tell you were dreaming. I simply intervened. What I was trying to do Alex, is get you to forget about the black-haired, brown-skin race you were so interested in dating or marrying a woman of. I knew you missed someone who had black hair and brown skin. You were missing me, but you did not know it. I merely wanted you to make dates and maybe marry one of the blond-hair or light-hair women of your culture or society. The ones with black hair and brown skin were no better or worse. Just that... deep deep inside, they reminded you of me. I just wanted you to be happy. I had no way to be with you other than out of body. And that would last only five to twenty minutes at a time. After that time, I got in to other dreams of yours, several times after that, and occasionally over the years to just before you came here. I kept my presence light so I wouldn't effect you too much." Cleo hesitated then breathed happily, "And I'm SO GLAD that at last, you are back!"
I replied loud and strong, "I am too! You can bet on that!"

I am not going to speak of the dream in this main journal because it would lengthen this journal too much; it is already quite long enough. If you want, click here for the dream description. After reading the dream, click on the ending of it to return here.

We spoke of the dream a little while longer, then about other happenings...

Cleo spoke with us about this and that latest happenings in Central Capital and Shasheer. Samirah and I both asked much about world politics and origins of the Taqh Race and Betaqh Race. Answers were interesting but too lengthy to put here. Unlike my imagination's explanation, the Betaqh Race (represented by "Beta Race" in my stories) have nothing what so ever to do with the American Indian. Betaqh Race generally evolved in a warmer southerly climate and thus took on smaller builds and dark skin and hair, characteristics of a race that evolves in hot sunny climates.

The only thing I'll touch on about world politics is that Shasheer seems to be the most advanced nation metaphysically. Psychic spies have kept tabs on Shasheer's enemies who are more technologically advanced in weapons. Shasheer has equal weapons but not in as great a supply. Shasheer apparently has perfected a powerful Infrared Ray Cannon with automated aiming capable of wiping out entire squadrons of incoming aircraft or missiles or spread out single ones. But it seems, Shasheer has non-physical weapons as well...

Cleo told of a case where one over-seas enemy was going to launch a war on Shasheer but stopped after several nights of terrifying "ghosts" scared that nation's leader out of it! That nation accuses Shasheer of having the power of evil on their side. "Nonsense!" Cleo said, "Evil's only power is the fear it causes!"

The "ghosts" were the out-of-body projections of Shasheer's leaders and diplomats using metaphysical methods to get to that stubborn leader with their plan of peace. The leader could only shake in terror and finally called the war off claiming "No one can win in a war against a nation of devils!"

Other nations seem to have petroleum but Shasheer does not. Shasheer is the most planet-friendly nation with their solar energy and muscle-energy. Many people in Shasheer resent dealing with "second-hand" pollution, coming over their clean-aired land from petroleum using countries.

Shasheer has launched a program of spreading solar energy use around the world. Shasheer has also developed a chemical that when released into pockets of underground petroleum, it is destroyed; rendered unusable.

Cleo said, "The nation, an oil producer and the one that wanted to war on us, accused us of sabotaging several of their drilling stations with the chemical. Our diplomats quite bluntly told them "you've just used it up, pigs!" Well, that didn't sit well. But word is out, in addition to really running out of petroleum, our secret agents did manage to get the chemical down there. When that is done, the entire pocket of petroleum is no good. It IS a radical plan. It has the potential of throwing some of the petroleum producing nations back into ancient times and severely crippling the petroleum users."

To my self I thought... then I said it out loud, "Hurrah to Shasheer for destroying petroleum! Way to go!"
"I basically agree, Alex," Cleo said, "but you gotta go easy. It could cause a tremendous upheaval. It could really upset the rest of the world that depends on oil. It could start severe wars among them, and some directed against us if they suspected us of causing it. Of course, by that time, they'd have nothing to fight with!".

I thought to myself "Earth could use that method! Oh well, their problem now, not mine..."

Cleo gave us that advice and this advice. She agreed on the use of the abaya and hijab for women and robe for men as a way to slow down run-away indulgence in sex. But she also warned one can get teased over it and that it is not the magic cure-all that some of the new movement seem to feel it is.

Despite my being strongly aroused by Cleo as well as Samirah, Cleo did not once accept sex from me. She made sure Samirah and I were together. Cleo did not stay the night (I thought she was). She did express a wish for all three of us to become a "family" but only when Samirah was ready.

Cleo left, going out into the darkness of night to her pedal-car nude, carrying her hijab and abaya to put into the trunk.

Samirah and I went back up and rolled on the floor in each other fucking our brains out. We literally sexed to the point of passing out. We woke up in the morning with sun shining in on our nude bodies. We fucked some more, took showers and headed for work; no breakfast; no time!

During a break at work was the first time I was able to get Samirah to tell me what happened last evening when Cleo came while I was out buying groceries...

Samirah told the event thus... "I had bathed and was nude, waiting for you to get home. I was horny and could think of nothing but you in me! I heard the door open and immediately flew down the stairs... to a hijab and abaya clad Cleo! I screamed at her what are you doing here and so on and the like, but she sweetly smiled and said "I want to see you! I wish to apologize for being rude..." She begged me to sit on the couch with her while she explained some things. That's when she got into all this metaphysical stuff about you and her past-lives together and about me! She knew about my life in Iran! She is an accomplished out-of-body explorer. She told me she actually visited you while on Earth. Well... after a while..."

Samirah's eyes sparkled...

"We did sit on the couch and talked. I just couldn't stay mad at her. Something about her way made me calm down... and feel warm. We chatted about small stuff some. Then she talked about the metaphysical things. After a while, her explanations long and full of metaphysical technical details, began to, well, bore me. But somehow, I felt comfortable next to her. She sat close to me, close enough for her abaya to brush against my bare legs and shoulder. Then Cleo was scooting a little closer to me, little by little. I did not scoot away or resist. Before I knew it, her arm was around me..."
"So... she still wore her hijab and abaya?" I asked, trying to get a clear mental picture of this, "And you were naked?"
"Yeah... Yes to both! I was naked and Cleo was next to me with her arm around me... She too seemed to be bored with talking about that and began to fiddle with my hair. Cleo said my hair is the cutest she ever saw. She asked how do I make it so curly. I said I don't know, it just is. Later, she was feeling over my thighs, lightly pinching my nipples..."
"WOW!" I said, "That's what I'd like to do!"
"Yes, Alex, I'm sure you would!" Samirah said as she looked at me smiling and knowing what I wanted.

Cleo and Samirah, click here
Samirah continued, "Cleo felt my thighs, my tummy, and hugged tighter. I... didn't resist. My face burned and my eyes were watery. My vagina was so wet it dripped to the couch. Cleo removed her hijab. Then I thought she was going to get naked and want girly sex with me. But I didn't resist. My whole body burned at this point and her touch was exciting. Cleo knelt between my legs and felt around my wet vagina. I laid my head on the couch and closed my eyes and drifted in a type of pleasure I have never felt before. Through blurred eyes that I opened from time to time, I saw Cleo had her face at my crotch and she seemed to be gently sucking on me... on my vagina..."
"WOW!" I interrupted once more, "Doing your clit?"
"What's that?" Samirah asked innocently.
"Your clitoris, that finger like projection in your vagina." I replied, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about. I heard it on radio once. I added, "Stimulating the clitoris by gentle sucking is a way to get any woman going, I've heard, be the partner a man, or another woman."
"Ohhh" Samirah breathed, obviously enjoying the memory, "That must have been it. She kept that up until I had the slowest, most wrenching orgasm I've ever had! WHEW! I've never felt anything like that before. I kept wishing you were there to ram your big penis in there and get the orgasm over with. But without you, that Cleo just continued until that orgasm wore me completely out! OOO! NEVER have I felt anything like that!"

Gosh! I was almost jealous of Cleo! But glad too. Looks like Cleo wants us both and really does adore and love us both.

Samirah continued, "After I was totally spent, I just lay there collapsed. Cleo gracefully got up, quiet and gentle, and wiped me off of vagina juice. She laid me fully on the couch. She covered me with a sheet. Then, she just sat on floor next to the couch, kind of like, watching over me while I slept. Every so often, she reached her arm across my bosom and caressed me, and also fiddled with my hair. Cleo seems fascinated with my hair for some reason."
"No other Betaqh Race has frizzy hair like yours," I explained, "they all have straight smooth hair. There's not even that many tightly curled hair-types among the Taqh Race."

Samirah finished her account with "I slept a while. Then I began to awake. Cleo smiled at me so sweet. She asked how I was and tended to me, tucking me in with the sheet. I continued to lay there, looking sometimes at Cleo, and sometimes out the sliding glass doors to the scenery outside. Cleo had her arm on me and lightly rubbed me, caressing, petting. I enjoyed it and just let her do it. Then, you came home. As soon as she heard, she left me on the couch and went to the stairs to meet you."
"Wow! Gosh!" I exclaimed, "No wonder you looked so contented. And that's why she had removed her hijab; to get between your legs and to your crotch for clit sucking! Holy mackerel! Samirah! I'm gonna be jealous!" I said laughing.
"Oh Alex!" Samirah insisted, "Don't be! She wants you in her; bad! But she is not doing it yet just to be nice to me. Looks like you're going to have to fuck both of us, Alex. Can you do it?"
"Well I'll certainly try!" I answered, kind of automatically while I thought about what I heard.

During the following days and then into weeks, Cleo's presence was light and gracious. She always wore hijab and abaya. She tried to be with us only on Tuesdays, and then only with our consent... which Samirah and I always gave. So it was not like Cleo pestered us or stalked.

One creepy or at least, interesting thing happened even... It was Tuesday, we had already called Cleo Monday evening she can come with us on a picnic and hike in wilderness park. (We caller her!) So now it was early Tuesday morning. We would not take off for the park for another two or more hours. Samirah and I had an early fuck, and Samirah dozed off. I got up to stroll around in the early morning freshness about the apartments. On the end of the apartments away from the roads, is more or less wild land. I don't know who owns it or what, it's just there and is wild... tall grass, trees bushes. I was in that little woods when I felt someone with me. I thought it might just be another apartment neighbor. Many of them hike around too. I turned and there was Cleo, naked and smiling lovingly. She was... transparent and was not quite on the ground - it startled me. Her face quickly turned apologetic though I heard no sound. She faded from view. Wow, that gave me the chills. But, of course I knew of out-of-body and also knew Cleo could do it well.

I continued strolling close to our apartment. After a bit, Samirah comes walking quickly out wearing only a shawl around her shoulders, naked otherwise. She looked so cute, I smiled and blew a kiss.

She said smiling, "I knew you'd be out here! Cleo is on the telephone, she wishes to speak to you."
"Hmm, what about?" I asked.
"Something like, she wants to apologize for something."

Well I hurried back to the apartment and talked to Cleo. She apologized profusely for accidentally startling me and invading my privacy. She explained she had left her body, as she often does in the early morning, and due to thinking of me all the time, I was in the "back of her mind". And that made the instantaneous projection to where I was.
I was more curious than concerned over any "invasion of privacy". I asked her this and that of where I was and everything checked. I told her "don't worry about it, see ya later today." She ended the call with a kiss sound.

I told Samirah about it as we went ahead and had breakfast. Samirah was as fascinated with that as I was.
Samirah also commented, "She sure does want you in her! You can tell, just from her out-of-body... what happens but she accidentally projects to you. Maybe..."

And Samirah thought about this for a minute, then continued, "Maybe... you should go ahead and... fuck with her..."

That took some doing for Samirah to say that. Now, up to that time, Cleo did for Samirah, that clit-sucking thing a number of times already. Cleo seemed to relish entertaining Samirah that way. In all cases, Cleo kept her clothes on while Samirah was naked. So Cleo essentially received nothing out of it except to see Samirah enjoy such pleasure that she provided. Cleo's love for Samirah seemed genuine. I could at least see that much. And at the very least, Cleo was riveted by Samirah's hair. Every chance Cleo got, her fingers were in Samirah's hair twirling the curls, pulling at them, and feeling them.

I got a little curious about that myself. I know a lot of Arabic Women have curly or frizzy hair. But the spirit, the actual Samirah had "walked into" a Betaqh body. So why wasn't that body's hair straight and smooth like other Betaqh women? Oh well, it was nice anyway. I too thought Samirah's hair cute.

Well, I had to think about that sex with Cleo thing. I love Samirah so much, I don't want to do anything at all that would not be good for her...

Typical rural pedal-car road
Later, Cleo came and we all got in our pedal cars and pedaled over 40 miles straight into the wilderness. We arrived at a park that was nothing really than three picnic tables near the road. Nobody was there. Samirah and Cleo both emerged from their pedal-cars naked and a little damp with sweat. They toweled themselves off and slipped on their abayas and wore, wrapped that is, their hijabs. I emerged from my pedal-car a little damp with sweat, toweled off a bit... and that's it. I was... dressed?... Decorated actually... in a shiny gold-colored brief bikini that barely covered three square inches of me and made from very thin, light material at that... Well, Samirah picked it out! Talk to her!

We picnicked on light snacks and then we were off hiking, strolling I should say, just taking it easy. After all, we had just pedaled forty miles, much of it somewhat up-hill, for Pete's sake!

From the three picnic tables, a well trampled deer trail cut straight into the forest. After a couple miles, the trail veers to the left then follows a brook. We hiked along side the brook, which was to our right, a while. Later, we found exposed rocks in a shallow section of the brook with which to hop to one then the other and cross the brook. From there, we passed under a brief canopy of trees then into a great meadow. We were then navigating across a waving sea of green and amber to another lesser trail of unknown origin; Cleo guessed it was a long abandoned road.

On that trail we strolled a while. Cleo pointed out a raised spot of ground that may have once been the foundation of a house, long rotted away. Later, we ran across a couple more such raised spots, some with stones in an obvious squared off pattern. It was fascinating to ponder who lived there once, so very long ago. We took our time; walking slow, stopped often, and sometimes gabbed, and sometimes quiet.

The day was not short on beauty either. A cool dry breeze set waves in the abayas of both women and felt good on my nudeness (near nude anyway, three square inches from it!). The breeze pushed waves of green and amber through the meadows. Wild flowers, red and dark-velvet blue and sometimes black tulips, tiny indigo flowers, medium sized yellow flowers and several other nondescript or miscellaneous flowers all waved in the breeze, appearing to float like patches of color on the sea of green. The sky was pristine "severe-clear" blue with white puffy specks of clouds. And if I may speak metaphysically, the place just had good energy, a high vibrational rate. It felt invigorating.

Along with all the wild flowers, more color was added by the abayas and hijabs of Samirah and Cleo. Cleo's abaya was dark maroon with a snow-white hijab. Samirah wore a dark green abaya with pale yellowish green hijab. Gosh-wow they were pretty! They moved gracefully with their abayas trailing behind them spread by the breeze. Curious too how they both used walking sticks; it was reminiscent of my Father, who also used a walking stick whenever we went for hikes in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, USA, Earth in my boy-hood years on that planet.

As we strolled, I was between the two abaya-clad ladies while I wore that teensy bit of material. Neither one of them ever pressured me into wearing those monk's robes that the Betaqh men were wearing more and more of. (Of course Cleo began wearing hijab and abaya only after she saw I liked Samirah wearing it.) Samirah only suggested I wear the robe sometimes for my "sexual" safety. (And that is no joke in this land of powerful and horny amazons!)
So I strolled along between two beautifully and conservatively dressed ladies while I had maybe a total of three square inches of thin shiny-gold material on me. I was fine with that!

Due to the effect of being with these gorgeous ladies and yes, sexy as well even though all covered, and just the mood of the situation, I sometimes hardened up. I did not want to get into that... not here, not on this fine day. But that thing would not stay down. When it happened, I purposely lagged behind if the ladies were talking with each other. If they were quiet, I slowly pulled ahead.
Didn't take long for those two to figure something was up. Being between the two, feeling their warmth and with their abayas brushing against me, I had a particularly pesky hardening that refused to go down. I was lagging behind and sort of to one side.
Samirah stopped suddenly and turned, "Alex! Come here... Gol-dang! Cleo! Look at that!"
I turned away...
"Come back here you! We need that!" Samirah impishly called.
"What's up?" asked Cleo, grinning.

Samirah caught up with me and grabbed me by my penis, and literally pulled me with it saying, "This is what's up! Wanna put it in ya?"

Cleo came up, her strong face beaming a hell-smile if ever there was one. She grabbed it too. "Hmm," Cleo muttered, "Both our hands fit with room."
Cleo put her other hand on my, by this time, throbbing genital. "Room for three even..." she muttered.

There I was with two big hungry women, fully dressed but ready to strip, lusting, drooling. I did not know what to do next. Samirah did...

"We've been fucking all morning and my vagina's blistered" Samirah said with dramatics, "You going to have to take him!"
Cleo, more seriously, asked, "Are you sure?"
"You do it like this, girl..." Samirah said as she reached to Cleo's hijab and unwound it and took it off. A surprised Cleo stood there while Samirah reached down to the lower hem of Cleo's abaya. Samirah said, "Now, you do this..."
Samirah lifted Cleo's hijab up and, with Cleo raising her arms to accommodate it, over her head and pulled it free.

With Samirah's one hand on her hip and her free arm holding Cleo's clothes, Samirah said, "And now, freed of your encumbrances, you swallow him up, cock-first, into your other big mouth and ENJOY! Have fun!"

Samirah actually turned to go. She quickly walked to a tree away a piece and sat next to it, looking peacefully out over the scenery... And she had taken Cleo's clothes with her.

That left me, with my genital jutting way out from my tiny bikini, in front of a steaming naked, brown muscle lady. Cleo was stunned but ready.

Cleo looked back to Samirah under the tree a couple times then stepped close to me. My painfully engorged penis thumped against Cleo's wash-board abs. The tip of it had clear juice coming out, and was almost up to Cleo's naval.

With her voice quivering, Cleo said, "Now... if you stick that in me..." Cleo pointed to her naval, "it'll be up to here?"
"I... I guess so..." I muttered. By this time, I almost could not see.

Cleo's strong brown hands held my shoulders as she guided me to lay back on the cool green grass. Cleo said, "I think... we better do this laying down... or else, we'll surely be falling down..."

I lay in the grass, staring up to blue sky and a towering muscle woman over me. She knelt down, each of her knees on either side of me. I could see her vagina was soaked to dripping. The first time I saw her bare crotch actually, I saw Cleo kept her pubic area clean shaven. She slowly lowered down over me, her face to mine. Gosh, her eyes... they pulled at my very soul! At that point, I was totally, absolutely helpless. I was hers, entirely, to kill or to care for. Lucky for me, it was "care for"! The ground was chilly so her warm body over me felt good.

I felt a hot, wet soothing thing envelop my entire penis. It was sucked in to the base. It drew tight around my penis. Cleo's eyes winced. She raised back up again with her muscular thighs spread wide to keep her crotch right over mine with my entire penis deep in her. She raised her arms over her head with huge biceps balling up as in a stretch, and let out a thundering screech that I actually had to hold my ears against. Cleo began furious thrusting while continuing that wild screaming. I thought, that orgasm came awfully fast.

Cleo's screeching calmed replaced by huffing and moaning as she thrust and pumped. Her vagina rubbed tight but slick, up and down my genital. My crotch and ground underneath me was drenched in her vaginal juice. In seconds, she was screeching again and thrusting violently. Calming down to only huffing, Cleo continued non-stop thrusting.
This time I was coming up with her. Cleo took longer this time to build up, allowing me to build with her. I had already sexed Samirah a number of times that morning, so I was taking a while to build.

Cleo and I blew up almost exactly together, almost a "photo-finish". I gushed and gushed. I thought my penis was going to blow off. I grew faint... Cleo's frantic screeching faded strangely... my head felt like a balloon... next thing I knew, I was standing, or should I say, floating, some feet over the ground... Cleo was there with me...

"What's happening!?" I asked, and as I asked, my mouth felt funny.
Cleo replied smiling and in a voice that... was highly musical but in a way I can not describe, "This is happening, Alex..."
Cleo, over the ground as I was, seemed to be sparkling like billions of stars... she came towards me. My chest ached terribly like super-duper being in love. Cleo came right up to me and... through me!... When that happened, the feeling I got... OH! There's no describing it! Let me make an attempt to give you just an inkling of an idea how it felt...

Imagine a giant bee... Yes, a bee, like an ordinary honey bee but this one is gigantic, maybe three feet. It stinger is ready!
Now, you know how painful just an ordinary bee-sting is. Well, imagine a three-foot bee stinging you. OUCH!
Imagine this giant bee stinging you in the chest. Awful awful pain! Now... take that pain, like a huge negative number, for example, -90,000,000,000,000. Now, invert polarity! Now the intense pain has been converted to intense pleasure. +90,000,000,000,000!
That intense pleasure, if you can imagine just a bit of it, is what I felt with Cleo when that happened. It seemed to involve our chests just under our throats. I don't know what that was but it blew me apart. Literally!

Readers, I was out of body! Plain and simple. This was the only time in my entire present incarnation that I went out of body with the exception, of course, of the "trade" which began as a dream for me, and ended as an out-of-body... I would assume, and after that, during my first week or so living in Central Capital, when I left my body with Doctors Andrew White-Owl and Lisa Silver-Cloud assisting me. Those out-of-body excursions were exciting, but very much guided and nothing like this. After a time, I had no more out-of-body projections and could not seem to make one happen.

I have never felt anything like that. Think of the most excruciatingly super-intense orgasm you ever felt. Then multiply it by 10,000,000,000,000! That will give you an idea! Or use my stupid bee-analogy. There's really no way to describe it adequately.

After our... mingling, Cleo drew away from me so contented and at peace... her eyes were close and she glowed. I felt contented and at peace... I felt a gentle sinking then... POP! Like a fire-cracker going off near my head, and I was on the ground laying on my back with the crushing weight of a passed out muscle-woman atop me. I had to put an effort to my inhaling due to her crushing weight on my chest. Finally, she stirred. My penis was relaxed and limp, and slipped out of her vagina. Cleo slowly got up, kneeled straddled over me, then stretched with magnificently bulging, writhing muscles. She yawned then exhaled, "WHEW! How did you like that, Alex?"

I was dazed. Cleo let herself down to me, straddling me with her arms on either side of my shoulders; sort of like on "all fours". I noticed impressive triceps poking out of her brown arms. I estimate she could do 200 push-ups easy, at least. With that strong but loving face, she waited my answer. I collected my thoughts and could only manage, "That was wonderful! Stupendous and magnificent!" Then I closed my eyes and drifted a bit again.

I woke up again with Cleo lovingly laying beside me, on the side of me that kept the sun out of my face by putting me in the shadow of her great body. Her hand gently caressed my chest. One of her big muscular legs laid across me. It felt heavy. "Can you get up now?" Cleo purred.

I tingled all over. My body felt like it was not there. I attempted to move. There was a tiny delay, but my limbs responded. "Yes... yes... I can get up" I replied in a gravely voice. I went "ehem!" to clear my throat.

Cleo got off me and gently helped me up. I leaned into Cleo's bare bosom for warmth and I was unstable on my feet. She gave me a long warming hug.

As I regained my senses, I began to worry of Samirah... Though she "offered" me to Cleo, I could only think, that surely over-hearing all the "sex-noise", Samirah possibly felt alone and abandoned. But Cleo took care of that...

"Come on Alex, Samirah's next!" Cleo announced as she pulled me alone.

There Samirah was, sitting under that tree, waiting patiently for I don't know how long. She looked up at us approaching and did smile... I looked for signs of "straining" for that smile, or if she had been crying. It did not look like she had been crying, but the smile did look a little strained.

Cleo ordered me, "Just wait there Alex..."
Cleo handed me her hijab, that when unwrapped, was nothing really than a large scarf. Cleo draped the hijab cloth around my shoulders. I resisted saying "I don't need this" but powerful Cleo made me wear it saying "I saw you shivering a bit. Now don't argue! Now just wait there a minute..."

Samirah looked on curiously. Cleo handed her abaya to me, so, it looked like Cleo intended to remain nude. Then, to Samirah Cleo ordered, "Okay you little rascal! Take 'em off!"
" huh? " Samirah questioned in her sweet little voice.
Cleo reached over to Samirah's head and began to "unwind" her hijab. Samirah began to resist but gave in. Samirah is a lot more forceful than I, but no one resists Cleo. Samirah began to giggle. I think she knew what was coming, and so did I. Anyway it felt gratifying to me to hear Samirah giggle.

"Take this, Alex" Cleo ordered as she handed me Samirah's hijab-cloth.

Then, Cleo helped, forced perhaps, gently, against Samirah's slight resistance, to take Samirah's abaya off. Up and up and over her head Cleo pulled Samirah's abaya. Cleo handed the abaya to me.

Now naked, Samirah looked strong, athletic, but at this time, submissive. To me, she was generally dominant. Cleo could not wait to get her fingers in the black curls of Samirah's hair.

"OOO!" Cleo exclaimed, "The cutest head of hair in the world, I think!"
Samirah giggled uncontrollably.

"Okay Alex", Cleo ordered me, "Go stroll around down there, Alex,"... Cleo gestured toward the bottom of the hill we were on, around the edge of the forest down there, where there was a little brook. "It's Samirah's turn!"

Certainly I was not going to disobey Cleo. I went on down the hill as Cleo ordered.

Indeed, the surroundings were pleasant. The brook made a pleasing sound, birds sang, there were many wild flowers and there were wild black-berries and blue-berries to eat. So, I did just as Cleo said, strolled around. I hung the clothes high and dry on a tree limb, including Cleo's hijab cloth on my shoulders. I was fully awake then, warmed up and did not need it. I felt contented that Samirah was in loving hands...

I couldn't tell how long it was... It was so pleasant; shady, green leaves and grass everywhere, flowers adding splashes of color, cool and dry. I just fiddled around; strolling. Once I crossed the brook via a fallen tree, ate a few black berries over there, then crossed back. I watched a turtle lumber across the brook, ate more berries, listened to birds and other stuff. I just plain felt good and at peace.

By and by, I was strolling across a clearing, I was not near any bushes that would have poked me. Then, I felt a pinch on my butt of significant intensity, enough to make me jump and go "OH!". It was on a part of my butt not covered by the bikini - which was most of it. I examined to see if there was a bee. There was nothing there and no bush could have been implicated either; all out of reach. I just attributed it to nerves or something.

Then I looked up and just out the corner of my eye, I saw something like a naked woman flit by. I looked in that direction carefully but there was nothing. The bushes were not that thick, something as large as a woman could not hide.
I wondered about it a minute. Then I thought, Samirah and Cleo, they... Nah! I dismissed it and continued strolling around.

Quite some time later, I don't know how long, I by chanced looked out over the meadow and up the hill. There coming down the hill was the tall, athletic brown Cleo, hips swaying and thigh muscles rippling awesomely with each step. The naked woman drew closer and closer. Her hip swaying riveted my sight. The sun reflected a bluish halo around her smooth, Cleopatra-like hair.

"Hi Alex!" she called out cheerfully when she came close enough, "Come, Samirah has much she is craving to tell you!"

I accompanied Cleo and began returning when Cleo reminded me, "Where's our cloths?"
"Nah, you don't need them!" I joked.
"I'm sure you think we don't!" Cleo joked back, "Now bring 'em!" she ordered, smiling.

When I fetched the clothes and came back to Cleo's side, she reached for her abaya. I pulled back and said, "Come on, please? Not yet!"

Cleo put her hands on her hips and look at me wryly then said, "Okay, Alex. We'll let you ogle a little longer! But you and Samirah have had enough of this for one day now."

I lagged behind Cleo as she climbed the hill back up. I watched with great fascination the way her big brown muscle-butt rippled and flexed as she walked. And her thighs rippled with waves of powerful muscle flexing. Ooohh man, I hardened up right there.

And then I saw darling Samirah, looking healthy, athletic and so darned cute with her face almost hidden by her profusion of shiny black curly locks.
"OH Alex!" she exclaimed getting up, "Wait 'til you hear what I did and saw! Wow! You want believe it!"

Excited, Samirah pulled me to under the tree to sit in the cool grass. Cleo joined us smiling...

Cleo reminded me of something like a Mom, as she watches one of her children tell her brother of something exciting. Indeed, Cleo seems to be a really loving Guide for us, helping me rediscover my soul's past, and helping lonely Samirah adjust.

Samirah excitedly told me about what apparently, was an out-of-body excursion. First, she briefly told me of Cleo "doing her" like before, only this time, unlike before, Cleo participated. As before, Cleo gently sucked Samirah's clitoris to arouse her intensely. Then, when Samirah was ready to pop, Cleo laid beside Samirah and used her finger-joints with her fingers folded back to continue to stimulate Samirah's clit. A gentle rubbing is all it took. Anything that will gently strike, rub, or any other way stimulate the clitoris will do it. Apparently, all Cleo needed is to be straddling one of Samirah's muscular thighs with Cleo's vagina pushed against Samirah's thigh. In fact, Cleo added, "The excruciating cuteness and sweetness of Samirah had me about ready to orgasm any way. Her thigh in me just gave a little extra push."

Samirah tried to describe the intensity of her vagina-wrenching orgasm. Cleo added that she climaxed at that point too. After the intense, long lasting, orgasm finally subsided, Samirah passed out in Cleo's arms. That is when Samirah experienced some kind of energy-body separation.

Samirah smiled and glanced at Cleo with a bright sparkle in her eye. Samirah said, "I passed out from a weird feeling dizzy spell. My head felt like a balloon. Then, I was almost up to the lower limbs of this tree as if I was floating on a cloud, and Cleo comes to me. Ooo! I feel a longing to come to her from my upper chest, like an intense heart-ache. I reached out to pull her to me, yes, even to hug. And ZING! The biggest most intense pleasure I've ever felt! I can't possibly describe it. Later, Cleo told me you did that with her too. Did ya?"
I answered a wide-eyed Samirah, "As a matter of fact, she did! What was that anyway?"
"It's Spirit-Love" began Cleo smiling, "an exchange of love energies! It's pure and clean, uplifting and it's ultimate source is God!"
I grew very interested... I asked Samirah, "Now... I assume then you could see Cleo while... doing that? While out of your body? Physical body that is?"

"Oh yes! I saw her!" chirped Samirah happily, "She glowed with beautiful colors and seem to be a galaxy shaped like Cleo, made of billions of stars!"
"Yes!" I replied, "That's what I saw!"

Samirah continued, "Cleo showed me right there, while out of body, how to adjust my... vibration! Yeah, that's it, vibration, uh, frequency in order to see different things. Then, we floated over to where you are! We had to look for you. There were so many interesting things! It took a while, but when I saw you, I went right over and pinched your butt! Did you feel it?"
"Oh so that's what that was! You rascal!"
"And you couldn't see me! You couldn't see me!" Samirah sang sing-songy, teasing.
"I saw something though!" I pointed out. "Some naked woman ran or scurried along just in the corner of my eye!"
"See?" Cleo interrupted, speaking to Samirah, "I told you he might see you!"
" oops! " chuckled Samirah.
Cleo continued, "His vibration was high at the moment due to his trance-like, sort of like, light hypnotic state and the high vibration of this natural area. An area like this raises any body's vibration. And yours, Samirah, was a bit low. So, his vibration came up from the earth-plane level, and yours was down a bit from the high-astral plane I guided you to, so, the two vibrations were close enough for him to see a little of you. It's almost like tuning a radio to different stations! What you can see or sense depends on what your vibratory rate is."
"Good heavens", I commented, "It's almost like science!"
"It is science, metaphysical science!" Cleo replied.

"But now I want to tell you what I saw in the woods with you!" Samirah began again, excited.
"With me?" I asked, growing even more interested.
"First, the brook had a florescence to it. Ever changing colors, softly flowing. An aura spread from the brook some distance. You were within it and your body seemed to be absorbing it, Alex, and taking on some of those same pretty colors!"
"Huh!" I blurted out, entranced by what I was hearing.
Samirah excitedly continued, "And, and... The woods had these little people, fit and good looking they were, dressed in kinda like, primitive clothes. One seemed to be doing something with the sun's rays. I saw one slide up the sun's ray to a tree over-head. Many of them were looking at you, Alex! Like you were a strange beasty from lore come to life. They scurried about as you strolled. They kept their distance but boy, were they ever curious."
"Well I'll be..." I automatically blurted out.

Excited, Samirah chattered on... "And, across the brook from you, we saw some kind of tall, beautiful maiden! She was looking at you as if very interested. She glowed silvery, and her hair was like, silver-blond or something. She was silvery blue and, there was just a tinge of gold in her... what's that light, Cleo?"
"Aura" Cleo replied, smiling.
"Yeah!" Samirah continued, "Aura! She stayed on the other side of the brook from you. But as you strolled up or down the brook, she followed. She didn't have to walk, she just floated! She could have easily crossed the brook. But she stayed over there..."

I interrupted Samirah's exciting report to say, "Huh, now that's interesting... One time I crossed the brook to the other side, to the forest's side. I walked on a log, you know, a fallen tree. I ate some big fat black-berries over there, and then crossed back. It was too bushy to just stroll around like I did on the meadow-side. I wonder what she did then?"
"I don't know" Samirah replied, "That must've been before we got there. When we saw you, you were always on the meadow-side. But she sure was interested in you. I wanted to call out to her to leave you alone. I already share you with Cleo, that's enough. But..."

Cleo interrupted, "It was interesting, Samirah's thought to warn her off was just passing, she was not going to do it. But when you're out of body, thoughts go out like clouds of energy. That thought, being a wee bit selfish according to Universal Law, was a bit musty looking. She, that maiden, saw it drift her way and promptly scurried off deep into the forest."
"WOW!" I commented, thoroughly absorbed, "What an adventure for Samirah! Why didn't that happen to me?"

Cleo laughed a bit then replied, "I helped you out of your body too. I was going to show you things, but I saw an energy flow indicating trouble with your physical body. Quite frankly, it was my fault. I passed out on top of you and my weight was making it difficult for you to breath. I saw your silver energy wire become rather bright, and you were reeled back in fast. By the way, when you awoke, did you hear a pop?"
"Yes," I replied, "as a matter of fact, I did. And when I woke up, indeed you were weighing on me quite heavy."
"Oh dear!" Cleo apologized, giggling, "Sorry about that! Otherwise, I could have shown you those things I showed Samirah. But that's okay. Now that I helped you form new neural circuits, you should have more success with your out-of-body attempts. I will show you many methods starting... possibly tonight, if it's okay with you.
It is important to get started right away while the new neural circuits are fresh, otherwise, they'll dissolve. These methods don't use sex, they are more mechanical. But they're dependable and produce more predictable results. Going out of body from an orgasm is fun, but it is hard to control and almost MUST be spontaneous. I took advantage of the fact that I have been craving sex with Alex for many weeks now, and sex with Samirah as well! Yes!
With both of you today, I was out of body first. Then I sort of like, pulled at your energy bodies while they were in a proper state for it due to the physics of orgasm. And in that way, I was able to get it going for both of you."

Cleo beamed a bright smile to both Samirah and I. Samirah and I chorused out a hearty "Thank you!" Indeed, Cleo was being an excellent and loving Guide and Teacher as well as Lover to both Samirah and I.

I had a few more questions about the "maiden" and the little people...
"How was this... maiden... dressed?" I asked.
"She seemed to be nude," Samirah replied, "Her breasts were out and her arms were bare. And her tummy was bare. But, starting with her legs, she was kind of hazy. She seemed to have on some kind of skirt... and it blended into the energy fields or... the light fields below her. She appeared to rise from a misty, silvery florescence that permeated the low bushes of the forest."
"Wow!" I exclaimed, "Some kind of Forest Spirit! Cool!"
"What were the little people doing? Other than following me and you mentioned, one rode a sun-beam and another was doing something with the sun-beams?" I asked.
Samirah thought a few seconds then said, "I... couldn't make out... Some were tending the various bushes of the forest... almost like little Farmers. Some were in the trees weaving... some kind of something that seemed to be being absorbed by the tree. And all the trees had beautiful lights... uh, auras, that is, with a lot of gold-tinge and silver, but other quiet colors as well."
"I wonder who those little people are?"
"I don't know what they are called here," began Samirah, "But in the Muslim culture I come from, they would be called Jinns."
"Huh! Jinns" I echoed, "Seems like I heard that somewhere before."
"Here, in our culture and society," began Cleo, "They are called Naturlings or Nature-Spirit-Elements. Naturlings or Elementals for short."
"Huh!" I said automatically, "From your description, I would say they sound like Elves and/or Brownies, or maybe even Fairies, but I didn't know they really exist."
"Oh, they exist, Alex", Cleo stated, "They exist. As real as the ground we're sitting on. When physically embodied, we see only a small portion of reality. There are many, many other planes or dimensions of reality!"

Much later, both ladies wore back their hijabs and abayas (Dang! Oh well, they're gorgeous that way too!) and we continued leisurely hiking. I hated for it to end, but the great thing I knew, other outings like this would come. And I sure looked forward to Cleo's guidance in out-of-body techniques. As we left that meadow and the forest, I lagged behind the ladies, turned, and whispered "So long Forest Spirits! Hope to see you again soon!" Then I walked fast to catch up with the women. We had a leisurely pedal-car ride home.

That evening, indeed, Cleo showed Samirah and I, various ways to get out of body. She only "lectured", no demonstrations that Tuesday night. Cleo said each day should go out of body no more than once; and no more than four times a week.

I found out someone out of body has a lot of free will. They can do anything. I thought there might be certain limitations. For example, going out of body could be used to spy on someone then commit blackmail with the information acquired. But Cleo warned, "When you achieve out-of-body capabilities, it is wonderful and powerful. It can be used to help other souls in trouble. It can be used to pay off tons of your karmic debt. It can quickly speed up your soul's evolution. But... begin using this powerful tool for nasty things, and those karmic debts can pile up to mountains in size over-night! And, I have indeed heard of people "loosing" out of body privileges, though rare. They loose the ability to do it! As soon as they come out, some force corks them back in their physical body again. It seems Angels or Spirit Guides or something are sent to keep a wayward out-of-body explorer from causing too much damage; to others or to himself in the form of huge karmic debts that would take 10,000 life-times of bitter suffering to pay off."

Hmm, chilling words indeed! You better believe Samirah and I approached all situations while out of body with the greatest of reverence.
Samirah, Cleo and I took many trips. Sometimes only Samirah and I went together at Cleo's urging. Anyway, one trip stands out kind of special... I've never seen Samirah loosen up and enjoy herself so. And it is a bit unusual outing anyway... Well, I will not take up space here. CLICK HERE for this "Side-Trip" and colored full size version of the picture to the left, only if you want. Another chance for that same side-trip will be given at the end of this main story; it does not matter where you read it from. Beautiful clear-lake scenery, how a long trip is done by pedal-car including pulling a canoe and tender sex flavor this side excursion. You will be a click away from right here when you are done with that "side-trip".

Up to that time, Samirah and I discovered much together, and talked about a lot of this and that. We made adjustments.

But I never have, as of yet, received Samirah's whole story beginning from her days in Iran, Earth, to here. What did she go through? Just how did she get this awesome body she is in now? How did she fit in to this society? Well, after that work-week, the weekend came again; as usual, Monday was Samirah-and-I-day. Tuesday we would go out with Cleo. This was Cleo's own rule for the time-being!

We arrived to a wilderness area, one of our favorites. I wore three square inches of scarlet red thong bikini while Samirah wore a deep blue abaya with snow white hijab. Mmm! She's so cute! Well, anyway, ehem!... So we began our hike. Thank goodness that penis of mine was finally getting enough. After strolling a small distance down the forest trail, I had a good penis-popping fuck that worked Samirah out as well. After that, Samirah was able to wear her abaya with no more requests from me to strip. My penis simmered down and finally just let me have a good day with Samirah's real self, not just drilling her vagina.

We hiked until we arrived at a mountain meadow. We ascended a grassy hill where stood a lone huge tree. We sat under it, my arm around her sweetness.

It was the first time, while sitting in the cool green grass under that tree, that we talked extensively about Samirah's "adventure"; from Iran, Earth, to Shasheer, Shasheer. (Not a misprint; these people, in this nation anyway, call their planet Shasheer and their nation, Shasheer.)

Samirah's story went like this, and I will tell it in the "third-person" aspect...
In Iran, Samirah was obedient to the law of wearing a big black hijab and abaya and making sure not one strand of hair showed. But she often day-dreamed of what it would be like to go out in something a little prettier and better yet, to parade around nearly nude in a bikini. But that was a forlorn hope.

Samirah tried to stay in shape. But in Iran, (in early 1980s) for a woman, that was next to impossible. Women were not allowed to exercise or do many sports. She had to sneak exercises when no one was around. Samirah did push-ups, leg squats with a back-pack full of books, curls using books or a stone (she claimed was for decoration), did sit-ups and walked as often as she could. Other lazier members of her family wondered why she always volunteered to pick up groceries or other errands that a woman was allowed to do but did not have to do more than just for her own family.

Sometimes Samirah's libido grew so large she did not no what to do. NO WAY could she have sex with anyone, not being married. Every so often, an orgasm would avalanche through Samirah suddenly while she was doing sit-ups. It felt so good, Samirah had to fight hard from moaning out loud. Later, she found out how to masturbate using her fingers and later, objects.

Yet, Samirah sincerely wanted to please God (Allah). But all these crazy rules. Why do women have to be so far under a man? Does Allah really want that? That is what Samirah pondered, for she could not read the Quran... she could not read at all. All she knew about the Quran and Islam is what men, particularly, Mullahs, told her. She was never taught to read. Samirah had a plethora of questions. Why must the body hunger for sex so, yet it is so dam sinful!? Why didn't Allah make people with no sex-hunger at all? What is the use of a body? What is the use of good looks?
When she could sneak a chance, Samirah looked at herself naked in the mirror. She saw a tall woman of somewhat heavy build, more or less fit. She was actually pretty strong! She looked savage with that body and her head of full-bodied, frizzy black hair. But of what use was it?

Every so often Samirah found a use for her strength at least. Once, the aging van that took her brothers and other boys of the street to school broke down. Pulling a mule-cart, Samirah volunteered to ride the boys to school five miles, in the heat and wearing a stifling black hijab and abaya.

It was worse in the afternoon to pick the boys up. They failed to get the van fixed, so Samirah had to pull the wagon to school and ride them back. She nearly fainted in the 120 degree heat and broiling sun, but her fit body held out. She received only minimal praise, but Samirah knew Allah was pleased.

Another time, a rather fancy new looking car passed through town on Samirah's street making a "womp-womp-womp" sound. Flat tire. Out came an elderly Mullah and two young... must have been Sheik types; so all three were men.

None of them seemed to know what to do, or, at least, did not want to get out of the air-conditioned car into the broiling sun, dust and dirt to change the tire. Samirah ran up and volunteered.

After setting everything right, Samirah's hands blackened and sweat dropping off her nose and all over her face, the only thanks she received was a cordial "Thank you" from the elderly Mullah. One of the young Sheiks pointed out "Your hair is out from under your hijab! That is against the law, but we'll let it go under the circumstances." (Well duh!)
There was maybe a few sweat-soaked strands of hair out of Samirah's hijab.

Samirah felt that certainly, Allah was pleased. Later that night, with only moon light shining in the window and her somewhat fat Sister snoring, Samirah did her sit-ups. Then an orgasm blasted through her feeling so great. She fought screaming from pleasure mightily. It had been nearly five days since the last orgasm. Samirah worried her orgasms angered Allah. Samirah pictured Allah as a man, perhaps a wise and elderly Mullah-type and so, male. Certainly then, her orgasms were a file rasping on Allah's nerves.

Another time, Samirah was in town for groceries. A man was crossing a street, seemed suddenly dizzy, and fell over in the dust under the glaring sun. Samirah looked on a while, but no one came to help him. Finally, Samirah ran out, managed to work the fellow onto her shoulders, and carried the nearly 200 pound man into an air-conditioned restaurant. People's heads turned at the site of a woman carrying a heavy man in like that. One of the restaurant Officers asked, "Do you have permission to be out!?" Samirah obediently showed him her permission-slip signed by her Father.
The Officer then grumped, "This permits you only to the grocery store up the street. All right, you've brought the bum in, now get lost! I run a nice place here!"

Samirah was always helping people one way or the other. And there was no shortage of opportunities to help due to old-automobile-troubles. For Samirah's neighbors, she changed countless tires, used her powerful body to push-start many aging cars, and did light engine service free of charge.

For All of these things Samirah was lucky if she received simple "thank you"s.

Samirah had a girl-friend her age named Deborah who always got into trouble. Once, Deborah wore a deep maroon abaya and hijab from Egypt. She was arrested for that. Another time, she wore a snow-white hijab over the black abaya. Samirah thought the look was neat, quiet, respectful and even professional looking. Nope, not the police. She was put in jail over-night for that as well.

[It should be noted here perhaps, that this ridiculous strictness of hijab and abaya color has, since the early 1980s, loosened up. Now in Iran, one sees abayas and hijabs of different colors.]

Samirah's friend found every chance possible to invite Samirah over and sneak a look at Samirah's fit naked body. While looking, at Samirah doing poses, Deborah used her fingers to masturbate. Samirah warned her of this, but she kept doing it. Deborah had an extremely intense sex drive that just had no outlet at all. A few times, Deborah used Samirah's leg to masturbate on. Deborah was put in jail a whole month on mere suspicion of masturbating. Samirah knew she probably did, but does that deserve a month-long jail sentence in filth among degenerate people? Fortunately, Deborah covered or destroyed evidence well so no one could find proof. Samirah visited Deborah everyday while she was in jail. Everyday the same thing; on Deborah's begging, Samirah told some sexy, made up story of Samirah herself. Sometimes all Deborah wanted is a detailed description of Samirah's beautiful body.

Neither Samirah or her lusting friend had boy-friends. They found the men of the area stuck up and aloof. They seem to think women are born filthy sinners. Samirah and Deborah simply could not tolerate this attitude so, to hell with boy-friends.

Because Samirah always looked for opportunities to exercise, a situation came about that brought down her beautiful body which she worked so hard to maintain. She offered to fetch groceries not only for her Mother, but for neighbors as well. Every day two to five times a day Samirah walked to the grocery store and came back with groceries in her back-pack.

Samirah and Deborah and another friend, Najwa, were walking to the grocery store. Jets zoomed from the horizon. Iraqi fighters! Often, Iraqi jets had been seen before, but never coming right at them! Missiles fired, a billowing wall of smoke and debris charging ahead of exploding bombs, Samirah felt something hit - Whole body, smashed, burning...

She woke up... or came to... and it was over. Samirah felt... okay. A little strange, but, okay. The daylight looked different... because of the dust blown up from the bombs... It was real quiet. Not so hot...

"Samirah!" Deborah called, "Are you okay?"
"I think so..." Samirah replied... but her voice felt funny. Something was not right.
"Where's Najwa?" asked Samirah.
"LOOK!" exclaimed Deborah...

Najwa was walking in the air. She ascended into the bright sun accompanied by... two Angels!

"Najwa's gone!" Samirah cried and knelt, and cried hard. Deborah knelt too, beside Samirah, and began crying.

"What's that!!?" Deborah exclaimed.

A brilliant White Light, sort of like a tunnel, was forming close to them. There were beings inside the tunnel beckoning them to enter.

"Lets get out of here, Samirah!"
"Where?"
"Home!"
"What about the groceries?"
"Screw the groceries! We just got attacked! Let's get out of here!"

Samirah went on home. Deborah went home as well; she lived only a few houses away.

The door of Samirah's house was open as usual for any precious cooling breeze that may come in to ease the burning heat.

Samirah came running in and saw her Mother preparing supper. She called, "Mom! We got shelled! Iraqis! Why are those sons of dogs bombing a simple village for!?"
Mother did not answer.
"Mom?" Samirah said again, assuming she merely was not heard as she came in the door talking. Samirah approached her Mother. A funny florescence was about her.

"Mom! What's that?" Samirah asked.

But her Mother kept working on supper.

"Mom!" Samirah called. "MOM!" Samirah called again.

Samirah waved her hands in front of her Mother's face. No response. It was as if her Mother could neither see or hear her. Samirah went to her brothers' room. The door was closed. She reached for the door handle, turned but it did not turn. Samirah's momentum kept her going so that her head contacted the door, but instead of "bump!", Samirah felt a tingling where her head entered, that's entered the door!

Samirah backed off. She stood there amazed and frightened. She pushed at the door with her hand. With a tingling sensation, her hand went through the door.

"Oh NO!" Samirah exclaimed.

She pushed her entire body through the door. With tingling and billions of tiny sparkling lights, Samirah passed through the door. Everything that had been solid and so real before, were now mere illusions... projections!

Her brothers were studying. Samirah called to them and waved her hands between them and their books. Nothing.

Samirah thought "The bombing site! I got to go back there..."

No sooner had Samirah thought of the bombing site, Swoosh! She was there!

By now, Paramedics, ambulances and crowds of onlookers were there. Frantically, Samirah searched around. She found out she did not have to walk. She floated, flitting, from spot to spot that she examined.
Samirah heard Deborah call, "Samirah! SAMIRAH! LOOK over HERE!"

In a whoosh, Samirah was over there. There was the mutilated, broken remains of Deborah's body. Her chest was split open.

Then, there it was, or what was left of it. That body Samirah worked so well on. Torn almost completely in two, her intestines all strung out, and a leg torn off.

"That's it then", Samirah said to Deborah, "We are... well... as far as they are concerned, dead."
"Dead?" Deborah asked, amazed, "But... I feel okay! I'm... alive!"
"We are spirits, silly!" Samirah reminded Deborah.
"But... like this? Just like... walking around like nothing happened?" Deborah said, finding it hard to believe.

"Deborah! How did you get here?" Samirah asked.
"Walked. How else?" Deborah replied, "Nobody was at home so I came back here... somehow, I knew you would be here."

"You can also fly!" Samirah told Deborah.
"How?"
"Just kind of lean into it and think of moving forward... sort of wish or want to move forward, like so..." Samirah demonstrated.

Deborah found she could hover and fly. She found it fun.
However...
Now what?
"We gotta stay away from that Light! That tunnel-thing, we got to stay out of it!" Samirah exclaimed. "Lets go home..." Deborah began running. Samirah called out, "No, not that way, just think about my home. Think Deborah, think my home..."
They were standing in front of Samirah's home!
"Wow!" Deborah exclaimed.

Deborah asked, "Now what about this tunnel? Why must we stay out of it?"
"Because both you and I masturbate! We have committed that sin many times! If they catch up to us, they'll may send us to hell!" Samirah replied, worried.
"Is that thing Allah?"
"No, but the beings that are in it are men! And you know what that means!" Samirah reminded.
"Yeah" replied Deborah sarcastically, "Sneeze the wrong direction and you get ten years... for sneezing and being a woman! Mostly for being a woman!" Then Deborah added, grumbling, "Stupid men!"

So Samirah and Deborah found themselves in a world out-of-body explorers have discovered and told us about in books. It duplicates approximately, the physical world. Or, by controlling their vibration-rate, the actual physical world appears, and then it seems like illusion. All objects appear as holographic projections, vaporous and not really there.

Samirah and Deborah quickly learned there are other... people... other than the physically living. At Samirah's house, a long "died" Uncle was there. First thing he did is advise Samirah to go into the tunnel of Light and that they are not waiting to throw you into hell.

However, Samirah's relationship with her Uncle as with other men was not entirely smooth. In the past, when he was physically alive, the Uncle whipped Samirah for the littlest thing while letting her brothers get away with much. However, Samirah noticed the Uncle was nicer and more at peace than before. He said, "Well, that's okay if you don't want to go into the tunnel right away. I haven't. Eventually, your Grand Mother may come out of the tunnel to explain things to you."
Then, additionally, the Uncle instructed Samirah how to control her vibrational frequency.

"The Universe has many layers of worlds. You tune them in with yourself like you are a radio..."

The Uncle instructed the lowest frequency was that of the Earth. There, what were solid objects when physically alive now appear vaporous. "People may be able to see you as a ghost!" he pointed out. "It is difficult to keep your vibration that low. Better keep it kind of high. When you shift vibration from Earth level to here, shift it fast. Or else, you pass through a horrible place of grievous emotions and deformed creatures."

The Uncle theorized he, Samirah and Deborah all have a "natural" frequency, where, if they are not concentrating on it, they will end up...
"I always end up here!" the Uncle said.
"What's here?" asked Samirah.
"Seems to be first, a duplicate of Earth. Here, things are solid, real, but... different. People still in Earth bodies seem to glow... There are additional things. If you travel upon the open desert, you will find a beautiful city constructed by Jinns. Do not enter their city without their permission. Usually they are nice."...

Samirah's vibration tended to be a bit high... "a good indicator" her Uncle and other beings of this plane, especially Jinns, told her. Deborah's was not so high. With effort of concentration, Deborah could raise her vibration a bit, and Samirah lower her vibration a bit so that the two friends appeared solid to each other.

Samirah had to go through the torment of watching her family grieve her loss, then go through her funeral all with Samirah desperately trying to tell them that it is no big deal! "I'm still alive! Just different! The Earth body is nothing but a vehicle, like a car! AHH!"

Samirah had to give up. They simply did not hear or see her.

Samirah hung around her home for a time. Later, she found out she could explore. She could go to places and in buildings she never could have when in a physical body.

Some years later, the brother of Deborah left on a trip. Deborah and Samirah could hear and see what was going on. The brother was going to France to study and participate in efforts to spread the cause of Shia Islam.

Samirah and Deborah both found out they could board any conveyance, be it a taxi, train, airplane or private car. Guards could not see them. Ticket collectors could not see them.

Samirah and Deborah followed Deborah's brother into the airport past many guard-posts that would have stopped the women if they were in physical bodies.
When the call for boarding the flight to Paris France was announced, Deborah's brother picked up his carry-on baggage and lined up with the others. Samirah and Deborah merely followed the brother down the chute to the plane. Other non-physical people were there too. They could tell them apart from the ones in physical bodies because: They could see Samirah and Deborah. They seemed to hover, feet not quite touching the ground. Their glow was brighter and more even.

It was actually exciting to ride the airplane in this manner. It was a packed flight. Samirah and Deborah sat or hovered near the ceiling near the seat Deborah's brother sat.
At this point I have to break in because by this point I was amazed how like-life so-called "death" was. I had to ask Samirah again, "You mean to tell me, you just followed the living... that is, the physically living unto that plane and sat like a passenger?"
"Yes" beamed Samirah, "Great isn't it? Free air fare! But no place to sit. Like I said, I sat or hovered near the ceiling."
"You mean, when you sat, were you upside down?"
"Well, in a way..." Samirah replied, "Uh... up and down are not quite like it is when in a physical body... but yes, essentially, I was sitting up-side-down."
"Man! I wonder how many other spirits of once living travel like that... or congregate at airports." I pondered.
"Many!" Samirah replied, "Many! Maybe more people without physical bodies are there than with physical bodies... Not to mention Jinns; They're there to study us and try to find out where we are going and what we are going to destroy next. Jinns live in the wilderness far from people. They may also live underground. They require healthy Earth energy flows to live. That's sort of like their food."
"Wow" I muttered, fascinated, "Jinns again. This planet too has Jinns, right? Is that who you saw in that forest?"
"Yes, Alex, those were quite probably, Jinns. Or something like them anyway. The maiden I saw, however, is NOT a Jinn. You can tell when out of body... they just look different."

Then I asked, "So... you traveled to France following your friend's brother. What did you do in France? What was that like?"

And with that, we continue Samirah's story...
What was it like in France as a spirit? What would you do? Explore? Study?
Samirah reports being scared much of the time. Many other spirits, people, like her, who have not gone into The White Light yet for one reason or another, always eyed her. Some leered as if sexually attracted in a perverted way. Others tried to make deals. Others wanted Samirah to do something for something. Samirah feared these dealings and avoided any commitment. Samirah tried to hide. But it is impossible to hide, you can always be found... Unless... As Deborah first found out then she told Samirah... you "blend" in the aura of a living person. Form a second light about them, attaching to outer edges of the physical or etheric body. Deborah tried this first with her own brother. But his attitude toward women disgusted her. When blended with a living person's energy, you know their thoughts.

Samirah found this fascinating though disturbing... too much like eves-dropping. But when blended, other spirits seemed to be unable to find them. Paris France had legions of lost spirits all around.

Deborah's brother had attracted (among many others) a French young man to his Shia Islamic organization. The young man had a weak aura which was easy to blend into. His attitude towards women was nice: The most wonderful things on Earth! But Deborah's brother was trying to teach him things that neutralized that attitude. The young man came from an abusive family and was often depressed. Relationships with woman after woman was his only source of comfort.

Deborah and Samirah tried at times to blend into other people's energy-fields but quickly found out they could not blend with just anybody. Many peoples' energy fields were like electrical force fields protecting them. Attempting to enter created a pain similar to being shocked. The harder Deborah or Samirah tried to enter, the greater the discomfort became. They could only blend to depressed people. Or drunks. But drunks had with them legions of undesirable, down right filthy (somehow) spirits already blended in that disgusted Samirah or Deborah. So they avoided drunks.

This continued for years. Then one day, Deborah's brother planed to go to United States. The plan turned real, and when Deborah's brother departed, Samirah and Deborah were there.

Again, following the brother, Samirah and Deborah boarded a Boeing 747 bound for United States. As before, Samirah and Deborah (along with a "crowd" of other spirits) hovered or sat near the ceilings and walls of the airplane. All seats were filled by physical bodies.

By this time, Deborah and Samirah were experienced "spirits", knowing their way around. They knew how their thoughts could control. They learned to control their thoughts carefully.
Any time, either Samirah or Deborah could instantly go back home to Iran simply by thinking and willing it. So though this flight would take them far, they knew they could visit home anytime.

Samirah and Deborah stayed close to Deborah's brother during his trip and period of getting settled in Orlando, Florida of United States.

Deborah's brother studied, and later, acquired this and that job for extra income. He began work for a rental car company at the airport. Deborah's brother was not too fond of Americans, but they were a necessary unpleasantness that had to be endured during his studies and time at the part-time job at the airport.

Deborah and Samirah often accompanied the brother to his airport job. There was nothing else to do. The brother's energy field was excellent for hiding if ever Radiant Beings or that White-Light Tunnel came around like they did from time to time.

A few times, even Najwa came out to invite them "in". She appeared radiant, glowing, almost like an Angel. She seemed healthy, happy. But Samirah and Deborah knew Najwa to be a serious follower of that strict form of radical Islam existing in Iran at the time. She seemed immune to the sexual urges of Deborah and Samirah. Deborah and Samirah concluded "Najwa has been "rewarded" and the same does NOT await Samirah or Deborah should they enter that tunnel". So no amount of beckoning would entice Samirah or Deborah in.

Deborah's brother seemed somewhat interested in a particular American who himself seemed to be apart and different from the others. Perhaps thinking this American to be foreign himself, or in some way different, the brother attempted conversation with him.

Samirah immediately noticed something inviting about him. As she drew near his energy field, she detected he would be loyal and respectful toward a woman if only she would open her heart to him. He possibly would be obedient, submissive and offer an enduring love for her...
And...
He was so lonely for just that. He craved any kind of companionship with a woman, but did not seem to know how to do it. Samirah hung around him, then, so did Deborah.

Some presence, not that man, but... something... or someone... seemed to indicate to Samirah staying with that man would be okay. That was all she needed. When this man was done with speaking with Deborah's brother, and walked away, Samirah followed him. Deborah wanted to go home with her brother, but decided to stick with Samirah. After all, if Deborah wanted, she could be with her brother in an instant with only a thought.

Later, apparently getting off from work and late at night at that, the lonely man entered a car to leave. Samirah simply sat in the back seat joined with Deborah...
And again, I just had to interfere with the story...
"Just like that, huh? You rode home with me in my car, in the back seat?"
Samirah giggled, replying, "Yep! Sure did!"
"Weren't you... afraid?"
Samirah continued giggling as she replied, "Of what? You?" Samirah had to get out some laughter then continued, "You were the least of my worries!"
"Wow!" I commented, "Took home a woman and didn't even know it!"
"Yep!" Samirah replied, smart-alecky, "Took home two of them! Later, I moved to the front seat and sat right by you!"
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Nothing! Just felt secure." Samirah replied, "Your soul reached out to me. I felt a potential for love. Your basic underlying soul just accepted me. Then I saw you were kind of... low, depressed like, you had disappointment after disappointment, was forty-something in age and not married, and lived by yourself. I wanted to comfort you. I looked at you, but I knew you would not see or hear me. Your glow or energy was low, I could merge in. I did not right away, I waited a while."
"Man! If only I could have seen you!" I commented.
Samirah continued, "I stayed with you to see if there was any way, any way at all to help you be happier, and, quite frankly, you were the most comfortable hiding place I have ever seen. With most people, when I merged with them, I felt like I was invading and might be driven out sooner or later. But with you, I felt positively secure."
"That's sweet" I muttered automatically, then added, "Man, all this was going on, and I hadn't the slightest inkling..."
"Until you wanted to hear Middle Eastern music, right? Did you suspect anything then?"
"Not right away. I just thought it was the same thing as that Chinese-Woman-thing I had much earlier in my life. I was looking! I didn't like Americans so I sought out Chinese and other Asians. Didn't like that much better. Later, I slowly gave it all up. Then, after I met that guy at the airport, apparently, your friend's brother, I became interested in Middle Eastern Music. Then I wrote that comic and this and that and, well, you know the rest."

Samirah's shoulders quaked in giggling once again. She tried to hold it in. She said, "You don't know the half of "the rest" I knew!"
"That's..." I sighed, knowing what she must have known, "What I'm afraid of..."

Because of my difficulty with the "job-world", since it forces one head-first into the society I despised so much, I was quite poor. Fortunately, the coming of the Internet age was solving some of that. Being a painter, I had accumulated quite a line-up of sexy amazon paintings. I did not know what to do with them until the "bbs-age" in the late 1980s, then later, the much more profitable "Internet-age" of the early 1990s onward. But still my combined income was quite small. I lived at the time of the rental-car job in a camper-trailer, bought used, and parked at a travelers' camp-ground, something like a K.O.A. but this one privately owned.

Over time, I developed a sort of relationship with the fifty-some years old lady owner of the camp-ground. Seeing I was something of a "permanent resident", she gave me first choice of camp spots. The camp ground itself was off an interstate-highway and was surrounded by wilderness. I selected a separate spot by itself from the other campers. I was surrounded by Florida wilderness with only her, the owner's, house visible.

I even had a bit of a lawn which I kept mowed with an aging mower I had to repair often. The owner saw that I exercised and mowed while dressed in a rather brief bikini (a habit that apparently, came from all my past lives on Shasheer). Being a bit of an unusual woman herself, she not only did NOT make a fuss about that (as most southern Christian fascists would) she liked it. Before long, I was mowing her lawn too. Out the corner of my eye, I could see her peering out the windows every so often. I did maintain my body in very fit condition. So, that was kind of interesting but it never progressed further than that.

So, although poor, I had managed part of what I wanted. I lived in a little niche where I was apart from society. I was surrounded by partial wilderness. The people in the camp-ground were all travelers, most of whom originated outside the south. So nobody knew me except that lone Owner-lady. It was into this situation Samirah and Deborah, as spirits, entered my life.

Though I continued my amazon paintings and their presence on the bbs and later, the Internet, I had another painting-interest now: That of Islamicly dressed women. I went from thinking Islamic dress for women is oppressive and ridiculous to agreeing with the reason for Islamic dress and thinking it is beautiful. Of course, in my paintings, the abayas and hijabs depicted were anything but the somber black of those in Iran.

It continued that way for years until in 1997, someone presented me with a book, There Is A River - Story Of Edgar Cayce by Thomas Sugrue. That began a series of books leading to a kind of study of metaphysics on my own. Before long, the subject of spirit attachments was uncovered in my studies. That's when it began to come into light... My Parents had said it... "You're possessed!" They were just kind of kidding, but a little serious. My sudden interest in Middle Eastern culture and music, and suddenly wearing sleeveless t-shirts with my favorite Islamicly dressed woman on them (via scan the paintings, process in computer, print out on t-shirt-paper, iron on) when before I wore only long sleeves no matter how hot (except when exercising or mowing, then wore the bikini) caused my Parents to say that.

When I first read about spirit attachments I began to suspect something was up. I continued my studies for a while then encountered a second book about spirit attachments. While reading, I got some real interesting feelings. The night after reading that book, door knobs turned, my Arabic drum and tambourine got rapped, and a hazy mark resembling a woman wearing a hijab appeared on my most recent painting of an Islamicly dressed woman. These effects went on for two nights then quieted down. Then I really suspected a spirit attachment. I began looking for a Psychiatrist well trained in past-life regression and depossession techniques...

And, by now, you know the rest. Mentioned already, twice, first from my view-point then by Samirah, I will just add that after the depossession attempted that I regretted doing, I received a number of prescription hypnosis tapes to help me explore inward to find out what was going on.

Some months later, around about April, my need for caffeine suddenly dropped, and I suspected Samirah had moved on. She really had moved on, later.

In August of 1999, by Earth-time reckoning, I went to Colorado Springs Colorado to interview for a Bicycle Servicer Position. I was very hopeful to at last get away from Florida's heat and maybe get with some people at least a little bit similar to me. The plane landed in Colorado Springs and I went to a hotel. Even though August, it was so refreshingly cool in the evening. Florida would never feel like this until at least November. I went to bed in the hotel hopeful... and had a dream from which I would never return...
I was in a heavenly meeting place of some sort... and, again, you know the rest. Now, to Samirah...

My situation is one thing... I was not meant to be born in your Earth and your society. But Samirah... what happened there? Well, back to her story, again using the "third person perspective". We will pick up about where my need for caffeine suddenly dropped...
Samirah studied when Alex studied. She knew what he knew. Samirah had studied the Quran (in English) when Alex studied it. Samirah learned some surprising and great things about the Quran and Islam. She also learned much about metaphysics and the way a soul moves about after death of the physical body.
Samirah now knew that her merging in Alex's energy field was not good for him. Samirah left his energy field and swore not to return. She beckoned Deborah to do the same. Samirah and Deborah remained in Alex's little trailer home, but not attached, out of love for Alex.

Sometime about June of 1999, as far as Samirah could determine, the Tunnel of White Light once again beckoned. Finally, Samirah and Deborah entered the Tunnel.
Deborah went on to be reincarnated in about 200 years after a time working in the lower Astral Plane with Spirit Guides to rescue tormented souls trapped there. She could work off karmic debt that way so her next incarnation could be fairly nice. So Deborah should be physically reborn in about the 2290s or maybe after 2300.

Samirah met with Spirit Guides on a very high plane and was presented with an interesting proposal. Samirah was told:
You have worked off much karmic debt in the incarnation that was destroyed by war. Due to the deep love you have shown for (a "Soul-name" was used, but we'll use "Alex"), and his deep love for you, if you wish, you may live physically with him on his proper planet...

The situation of Alex was relayed to Samirah... in a twinkling of an eye! Samirah understood completely. She would be in an alien environment, but one far better than the one she had been in. And, at last, she would have Alex.

Samirah was told, "You will enter Alex's planet's physical plane first. Within a few months of the way they measure time, Alex will join..."

Alex's "body-trade" was explained to Samirah. But what of Samirah's new body? What kind of trade would be made? Samirah's physical body was long decayed by now.

On planet Shasheer, in Alex's home-nation, Shasheer, there was a woman of the Betaqh race that was living a hard, down-trodden life to pay off large amounts of karmic debt. This woman's Higher Self determined that due to her inability to deal with this life, she would soon end it by suicide. During a dream, the woman was taken far out of body by her Higher Self to discuss matters with Spirit Guides on a very high plane. There, she was given a choice. Either continue with her life, or, give up her physical body for Samirah to "walk-in", and go to the lower astral-plane to work with powerful Spirit Guides to rescue souls from their own entrapment.

She would descend and dwell in the horrors of the lower astral plane and be empowered with protection from higher sources so she would not be susceptible to spirit attack. But, she would be down there, in the stench and the filth, among every conceivable grotesque deformity imaginable. Slimy looking encrusted faces with two to eight legs on them, crawling around like spiders and leering at you, hideous beings like decaying corpses, and stinking clouds of negative thoughts would be her constant companions. The place harbors grief, deep sadness, feelings of loss, and every other conceivable bad feeling. It is always dimly lit, and smells of rotting spit.

She would work there little over 800 years. And those 800 years would be close to the way we feel 800 years would be. The lower astral plane is just over the physical plane in vibratory rate. The closer to physical-plane-vibration one gets, the more time moves the way we are familiar with. In the very high planes, time is but a mathematical equation.

After 800 years, she would be almost debt free and could go back to Shasheer in another incarnation and live a fairly pleasant life. If she continued progress, her soul's evolution would continue nicely.

She accepted working in the lower astral plane for the 800 years. At least it is rewarding work. As she frees soul after soul from their own self-inflicted torment there, the feeling of accomplishment would be great. Anyway, she could no longer stand her present physical life of having huge penises poked in her body dozens of times a day, every day. She was little more than a human masturbation-rag.

So Samirah had a physical body to "walk in" to. But it would not be easy. She would inherit this woman's terrible conditions. She would have to rebuild. But Samirah was told, "How well you pull yourself out of the wretched situation of this woman, will figure importantly in paying off more of your karmic debt."
Samirah said, "I'm ready!"

And so it was ready. The woman made her decision. Samirah had been standing by...

Both the woman and Samirah were placed, in a twinkling of an eye, to the bed-side of the slumbering body of the woman.

From here, I'll let Samirah describe in her own words what happened, from minutes before the walk-in to minutes, hours, days then weeks after she walked in that woman's misused body and found herself in a new world...
"I was told by thought, it was ready. I had been in a place of supreme peace and love. I had constructed for myself, using my thoughts, a beautiful mountain garden for me to wait in.
I dissolved the garden and felt a rushing, high-speed feeling. Next thing I knew, I was standing next to a bed observing a vaporous form of a woman's body. Standing near me was a nice looking woman, nude, with an Oriental face. She seemed serious. From her back extended a silvery set of pulsating threads, all bundled together. They went from her back to just above the naval of the vaporous body. A number of radiant beings were with us. Three of them stepped forward. Two of these Angels stood over the vaporous body and extended their palms toward it. From their palms came a brilliant, liquid looking white light. The light came upon the vaporous form and lit it to shining white. The third Angel grasped the silvery threads and slowly pulled them off the oriental (looking) woman's back. Her expression... or... what I felt coming from her, changed from something like depressed to hopeful. But 800 years of working in the lower astral plane is not something I would look forward to. Accompanied by Angels, the Oriental looking woman withdrew into a silvery mist, faded, and were gone.

The Angel gently held my shoulder while he inserted the bundle of silver threads into my back. I felt a zing of energy, as the white light from the vaporous body traveled up the silver threads to me. The Angel worked on my back for a while. Then he stepped back. "It is ready" I... felt... it was not spoken. Suddenly, I was aware of breathing, pulsing heart, working digestive system..."

Samirah had to add as a joke, "By gar, it's been a while!"

After both of us chuckled a bit, Samirah continued...
"Then I saw the two angels who were administering the white light slowly cut the white light off. The vaporous form continued to glow brightly.
The Angel that had worked on my back joined the other two Angels. All three smiled at me and, via telepathy, received greetings and blessings.
And then, I was alone. I gazed upon that body, now mine, and kinda wondered what to do next. I felt a pull on my back, and then must have lost consciousness...

Next thing I knew, I was waking up. A sensation I had not felt in years, I began to stretch. First thing I noticed were smells. Not very nice smells; scents of uncleanliness. I heard... a low murmur... of nondescript outside noises... I heard some passing voices... I heard delightful bird calls.

I felt a bit chilly. At last I came to full realization of where I was and what was happening. I was naked. No clothes, no blankets, nothing. First thing I did is search out a blanket, sheet, anything to ward off the chill. Cold air was wafting in from an open window. I couldn't find anything. How about the mattress-sheet, I thought. But there was none, the mattress was bare... and dirty. Encrusted dried spots of, I don't know what, were all over it.

I opened my eyes or tried to. One eye opened partially while the other was stuck shut... with what... dried tears as far as I could determine. Then, a memory came in... from this woman's physical brain. Her name had been, and still was for the time-being, Leslie Soaring-Eagle... more memory... That was her official name. Now, she had a nick-name given by the area guys... Fuck-Doll! "Ugh!" I went to myself. Well, she had cried herself to sleep, despondent over the situation of her life and just generally depressed.

Quite contrarily, I felt excited at the prospects before me. Sure it would take work... but soon I would meet Alex, and from descriptions of it, I would be... well am already... living in a land of solar-energy and muscle-energy, clean-aired cities and pedal-cars all around just as Alex's imagination had already imparted to me.
But first... Whew!

Fortunately, Leslie's physical brain supplied me with all the nitty-gritty details. I knew where everything was, and how to use them. It had been becoming more and more obvious from Alex's metaphysical studies (which I participated in by being his spirit attachment), that is what the physical brain is for. It is the interface point for the spirit. The brain takes care of thousands of little details of living physically that would busy the spirit to the point of not being able to accomplish any thing else.
The brain supplies memories of where everything is, job-talents, people's and places' names and where they are, and a host of other stuff. The brain provides the control points for the soul, the "driver's seat" if you will, with all the control points necessary to... well... drive the physical body! The physical body is kept charged with life-energy via seven "transformer stations", the seven main chakras and other chakras.

The physical brain supplies memories of what has been happening the past day to up to a few months for really important happenings. But after that, it becomes hazy. Seems like the physical brain has a system of "scrolling out" memories sort of like a "queue-system" of memory usage in a computer. Scrolled-out-memories remain forever in the spirit or energy "memory" of that soul, which, in turn, becomes part of, or is part of, the memory of the entire Universe (Akashic records, "God's memory"). But the scrolling-out-process is not that simple. Important memories stay longer. And talents get recorded in a lower part of the physical brain where they remain until the brain dies. For example, Leslie had been a Pedal-Car Servicer. I suddenly knew how to professionally service pedal-cars even though up to then, I had never seen one (except those in Alex's imagination!)..."

Samirah prattled on for a time about how much Leslie's physical brain assisted in how to initially get along in that new world. Since I already carried on about that earlier in this journal, we'll not go through it again. After Samirah's "lecture" on the use of the physical brain, she continued with what she did, those first few minutes to weeks in my society, or, to her, a new world...

"... So apparently, Leslie Soaring-Eagle had been crying last night; apparently cried until she slept. I went to the bathroom sink and used water to clean my eyes so I could open them.

Fully awake now, I got up and began to explore, at least, where she lived to get my bearings. Much of what I tell you are memories from her brain.

Where she lived was a low-rent apartment in a not-so-good area of a city called Central Capital (yes, just like Alex's imagination)... And it was a mess! A pig sty!

The mattress was encrusted with various spilt food, chocolate (as far as I could tell) and... sexual secretions, both vaginal juice and semen.
The floor was dusty, dirt all over. The bottoms of my bare feet were black. The foot-end of the mattress was dark gray.

My brain registered and I saw a chiffonier... with a mirror. I took my first look at myself. What I saw was at the same time awesome... and revolting...

I was in a most magnificent body! Tall, brown, athletic, powerful! It... I... had broad shoulders with good shoulder-muscle development, hips were wide, thighs were columns of rippling muscle. There was just a bare beginning of a roll of fat around the tummy and over my hips, but not objectionable. Even with the fat, my tummy had abdominal muscles (abs) that stuck out, and as Alex keeps saying, could be used as an old-fashioned wash-board.

But... my body was unkempt! First of all, I was naked, even though had been sleeping. Even such a strong body needs to be covered, or at least, have available, a sheet or something for when it does feel chilly during the night. There was nothing, no sheets, no clothes, not even a pillow to reach for and cover. Her pillow was a piece of dirty packing-foam, too small to offer much warmth.

My crotch was a terrible mess. There were blisters, whelps, and large areas of dried, crusted semen and vaginal juice. My hair on my head also had dried semen in it. And it was dirty, stuck together, stank and my scalp itched. If I scratched the itches, I had to be careful, there were many sores.

I wondered, how did semen get into my hair? Then the physical brain provided me with the memory. Last night were three guys, literally taking turns drilling me. One of them was so horny, he could not wait. While one guy drilled my vagina, the other one shoved his penis into the matting of my hair, and found that sufficient stimulus to produce ejaculation. The second waiting guy saw that, and then did it too. The guy in my vagina was taking long to ejaculate because that was his forth time. The other two had just arrived. Finally he dumped his last and the other two got to work on me. I just lay there, depressed, taking it. I (at that time) didn't care. I felt worthless. That was my only use; for men to dump excess semen into when, at the moment, they did not have a better woman to do it with.

My brain also registered memory of many guys who came by, both morning, on the way to work, and evening, on the way home, to dump in me. I was little more that a human masturbation rag, or a toilet. My "services" were free. In this society, men have no need for prostitutes. There is virtually no such thing as prostitution in Shasheer... except for situations like mine. Men, sometimes, would throw me a few pieces of paper money (rarely used in this society). Some occasionally brought fast-food.

I had a job from which I was recently fired for missing so many days and always being over two hours late. The job had been patient with me... I showed up to work something like once every two weeks for two or three months before they fired me. My brain's memory registered I was two months behind on rent and city electricity had already been cut off.

Interestingly, I was not totally without electricity... Almost all apartments, even poor ones, have on their roofs, so called "renter's solar battery panels" and usually, a "renter's solar hot-water collection panel". The battery panels produce only enough electricity for the most meager needs. After that, your "apartment batteries" are kept charged by city electricity. The entire city is run by solar- and wind-derived electricity and hydrogen gas (which behaves like natural gas). Hydroelectric generating stations contribute too. There are NO fossil fuel or nuclear plants anywhere. There are massive solar-panel farms here and there over the city and in the outlying country along with huge acres of colossal wind generators, also in the outlying fields.

Anyway, my city electricity had been cut off for non-payment. But I still had the "renter's batteries" for essentials only. And I had hot water. There should be a tank full of hot water because my physical brain registered the solar hot water was working okay, and I hadn't taken a bath in over a week.

Well! I was going to take care of that right now!!!
I still shivered, there were no blankets and not even any clothes that I could find... or register from memory. All Leslie's clothes were thong bikinis. No tops anywhere. And no coats or sweaters. What does she do for winter? My brain answered... find a job, (every autumn she did this) and use the money to buy winter coats and sweaters and catch up on the rent. She had sold her coats and sweaters (as usual around every spring) for money to buy food. Silly girl, I thought, why doesn't she just keep the coats? She'll just have to buy new ones! So inefficient! But... that's the kind of person we are dealing with here. Depressed. No plans. Planning is for the next few days at most.

At the time I was experiencing this, it was about the equivalent of June or early summer for the particular location of whatever planet this was I found myself. So, I had time to straighten things out before Winter.

I began my shower. All shampoo was gone. I would have to use that dwindling piece of bar soap for my hair.

Indeed, the water was steaming hot. I had to be careful to mix sufficient cold water to keep from scalding myself.

I scrubbed my hair, being careful of the soars. I washed my hair three times! There was a lot of hair to wash. It was black, straight and long, half-way down my back once the matting was removed. I planned on cutting it shorter. The ends where hopelessly tangled and split.
Finally, I began washing my body. It took a great deal of scrubbing to get off all that dried semen and stuff from my vaginal area and crotch in general. I washed once and was going to wash again when I heard a "whomp" at the door. I heard heavy foot-steps. Then I heard, "Fuck-Doll! Where are ya! I'm almost late for work..."

I did not say a thing. I was very frightened for half a second until my physical brain registered what this was. He was the first of the morning-guys. Finally, he came in my bathroom.
"Oh! Takin' a shower! First time I ever seen you do that! Oh, I gotta fuck!"

And into the shower with me came a towering athlete of a guy, absolutely naked. A gigantic penis throbbed with juice already coming from it and dribbling down. Somehow, I was not that scared, I even knew him, his friends and where he worked. But I was no longer Leslie the "Fuck-Doll", I was... me... Samirah! I found this disgusting. But I had to let him do it one more time.

He was a knock-out, I'll have to admit that. Tall, lean, muscular legs, hard rippling butt and powerful arms matched his musclely chest and steel-plate tummy. His hair was smooth gorgeous blond and had sparkling blue eyes.

He came into that shower and lifted me up, and set down on his huge penis. I felt it go deep in me. I thought it might hurt, but it did not. If anything, it was genuinely stimulating though I did not want to give in to it. Holding me up in his arms, he pumped hard for a minute or so then began wailing in, I guess, good feeling. Gobs of semen spilled out of me to the shower floor. I too was beginning to build to orgasm even though I kept telling myself "no!". But, when he was done, he was done. He lifted me off his softening penis and said, "See ya tonight! And keep up your shower! You're so fresh now; before, you were stinky. Bye!"

He stepped out of the shower, used the towel I was going to use to dry himself of my shower-water, and left. I was at once disgusted but in the grip of a building orgasm.
I couldn't think, I had to finish it off. I covered an empty tube of shampoo with my washcloth and shoved it up my vagina. I thrust the make-shift... stimulator... until I too wailed in an avalanching orgasm. It was pretty intense, I was not expecting it.

Relieved, I bathed two more times to get him off of me and another bathing to reinforce the others. But I got a pressured feeling in the pit of my stomach. My physical brain registered more of those guys would be coming soon. That guy that just left was the early one. Five more would come, close together as they hike to the same factory. Soon after that would be two more on their way to office jobs.

Well, one is one thing. But I, Samirah, was NOT going to be "Fuck-Doll" for them any more!

I searched out another towel to dry myself. I almost could not find another one. As I dried myself off, I took another admiring look at myself in the mirror.
"Hmmm, much better!" I thought. I admired my Chinese looking face, long smooth black hair, and tall powerful, athletic body. I took a look at what kind of vagina could have taken the thrashing that guy's penis just gave me. That genital on him must have been 22 inches long and three inches thick. And he shoved it hard. Had I been in my body before, in Iran, it surely would have ripped me apart.

My vagina had thick, calloused, raised "lips" and was just plain huge. Resembling a huge tan-colored peach with a big split up and down the length of it, that monster genital took up all of my crotch area between my legs. Never have I seen anything so huge... but in Iran, I had not seen much anyway. I wondered what Alex would think! That imposing giant between my legs was sure bigger than anything Deborah or I had before, that's for sure!
And no wonder, it had been used hard all during it's existence on this former body of Leslie that was now me. For the past several years, I would estimate based on memories I could gather from my physical brain, that this Leslie had sexed on average of twenty times a day, everyday, all year long for many years.

Later, I would come to note that many Shasheerian women, especially the bigger Taqh in all their naked glory, have these ample, sometimes immense, vaginas with caloused lips. In fact, that's the only way one can tell the age of a woman around here. Shasheerians live a long time, several centuries, and stay young looking most of that time. The bigger and more rough-looking the vagina, the older the woman probably is.

I heard men's voices. They're coming! Three of them together. "No way!" I thought. I knew where to hide, my physical brain registered, in the same places where I had money hidden away. I never tried before to hide from men, but used the run-down apartment's many holes for hiding things.

Standing on exposed beams in the wall of a back room that had nothing but junk in it and a lot of dust, I climbed into a hole in the ceiling. From there, I climbed into the space between the walls of an up-stairs apartment. Two rat-like things faced me. I spat at them and they ran off. I got comfortable for the wait, I figured an hour would do it.

The three came in looking for me. "Fuck-Doll!" they called. One called me "Leslie". "Where is she?" they asked each other. "Maybe the apartment kicked her out for not paying rent!" said one. Another one said, "I told you guys we shoulda paid her rent for her!"
"OH! Well, I gotta fuck something!" one groaned. Another said, "Aw, just masturbate on her mattress. I'm going to work. See ya!"

I heard him walk out. The other two remained. One did as the other suggested. I heard my mattress take a pounding and then I heard him wailing in pleasure.

"I'm gonna fuck her bikini!" said the other one after I heard the sound of rummaging through the drawers. Again I heard the mattress take a pounding and after a couple minutes, the sound of wailing in pleasure.

Finally, those two left.
Then another two guys came in. They looked and looked, calling out "Fuck-Doll". I just held my position.

It wasn't uncomfortable inside that wall, just a little dusty. The rats stayed away. They were scared of me. I sat on a cross beam. Other than a little cramped, it was fine.

They continued to search. "Well somebody's been here! Look at this!"...
"Yeah, somebody dumped his wad! But it's all on the bed. Maybe they didn't find her either."

They searched a little while longer then left. Well, okay, that's the first and largest group of them. About thirty minutes later, those guys commuting to the office should come. I just remained sitting there.

The sit-time did not go to waste. I used it to plan my future. I planned on how I was going to get out of this hole, today, and then planned out the next few weeks. I accessed a lot of common-sense knowledge of the area, society, job situations and even weather patterns out of Leslie's brain which of course now, was my brain. Thank goodness that is the way it works, or I would have been lost!

Well, sure enough, the two guys on their way to the office showed up. They called out "Leslie" and searched for a while. Strange, though my physical brain registers them as office workers, similar to any office you can think of; working with computers, filing, meetings, typing, scanning, and those kinds of things, my brain also registered them as always being dressed in tiny white bikinis on their tall, athletic lean physiques. Would an office worker dress like that? Indeed, it seems Alex's imagination hit the mark on that one. No wonder Alex has a tendency to wear bikinis every chance he gets. It's just habit!

I wished I could see them, but I dared not come out of hiding or make any sounds. There would be plenty of time for "sight-seeing" later.

After they left, my brain provided the memory that there would be no more regulars until noon. There might be an occasional man but my physical memory indicated those are rare during the work-day. Night is the time of unplanned men coming in.

Finally I moved from my place in the wall, slowly and carefully making my way down and out of the hole in the ceiling. One look at the mattress turned my stomach. Two big puddles of semen lay there, and one of my thong bikinis lay soaked, almost covered in one puddle.

My brain registered that I could go out naked in this society, and many people do. But my spirit, the real me, just would not allow it at this time. I searched for any kind of clothing. Her brain registered only thong bikinis, mere mockery of clothing. They consisted of thin cloth that barely covers my genital, with mostly strings on back. Some had a fish-net back. There were no tops anywhere. If I wanted to wear something, a thong would have to do it. That's all there was!

I looked through the drawers, most were empty. All the thongs were in that one top drawer. The only one with a fish-net back that would pretend to cover some butt was scarlet red. I didn't want to wear that color. I sort of wanted to wear white, but two white ones were dry-rotted, one had a hole poked right where it fits over my genital (my brain registered a man did it with his penis) and the only good white one was soaked in semen on the mattress. So I wore a good black one...
I must admit, as I strapped that teensy bit of cloth and strings on, the way it had to journey up my huge expanse of brown muscular legs... and the way the strings had to settle in over my huge prominent hips... and the way that tiny patch of thin cloth settled over that large genital of mine and put light pressure on it... and stuck to it... was genuinely stimulating! I began to not mind the idea of going out so dressed!
I took the rest of the bikinis to take with me for change of... "clothes?"... The whole lot of them were contained easily in my one hand.

I crawled back up into the ceiling through another hole to find my money. My brain registered paper money is not used much any more. Everything is done by computer and purchases done by "credisks", like a credit card but circular, three-quarter inches in diameter. I had one but to a closed account.

She had two pairs of shoes, both bright red and high-heel. Well, they'll have to do, I don't want to go barefoot and risk foot injury, not at this time. So, I wore a pair.

I brushed my hair then, for quite a while. I trimmed it shorter quite a ways; there was no managing the tangles and split ends.

Leslie went out during the day very little. She drank a lot of alcoholics. I felt a bit nauseous every time I looked out the window to the brightness. My brain registered she had been drinking alcoholics last night. Well, that would stop NOW! But, for the time being, I found the sun-glasses my brain told me she had, because, I would surely need them.

The paper money, bikinis, the other pair of high-heels and a few meager pieces of jewelry, most of it plastic, one pretty nice of glass, was all my luggage I carried as I bid that apartment farewell.

I hesitated for one more look at myself in the mirror. WOW! I couldn't believe it was me. Well, actually, no one's physical body is what that person is. It is a biological vehicle used for expression and evolution of the soul as it is done on the physical plane. It is almost like getting into a car. If you drive a Ferrari, people will think of you one way, if you drive a Volkswagen beetle, people will think of you another way, if you drive a Lincoln Town-Car, they'll think of you yet another way. It is the same thing with what body you are in.

Well, whatever; but I could not help but admire my physical appearance now. Tall, athletic, wash-board abs (though just a bit smoothed over, but that would change too), huge powerful thighs, big, steel curvaceous butt, big breasts, nice squared off shoulders, muscles in my arms and sexy Oriental face. I combed my smooth hair just a little more. It shined with a bluish halo. "Wow! Wait 'till Alex sees me!" I thought. I tried on the sun-glasses and took another look. "Wow!" I thought to myself one more time, "I'll make poor helpless Alex my sex-slave!"

Finally, finally I tore myself from that mirror and left.

The only nice possession I had was my pedal-car. Now here is where my physical brain really saved me a lot of orientation woes. I knew where my pedal-car was; in one of a series of cubbyholes in a run-down shack behind the apartment. I found the keys to unlock the cubbyhole-door. I knew which number of cubbyhole. And, I knew how to squirm into a pedal-car, adjust the pedals and seat and change the gears. It was all there, everything I needed.

So I went on out the door, high-heels clacking away. I walked well in them; surprised me. In Iran, I never dared wear high-heels. They would have put me in jail for a hundred years! So I knew nothing about wearing them. But, I forgot, Leslie's brain supplies all habits and talents.

I kind of liked this! I held my shoulders back and bare breasts way out and walked with a slight hip sway. The cool breeze caressed all that bare skin on me. There was a mild sexy feeling and I felt my nipples raise and harden and my genital felt just a bit moist.

Samirah in bikini: At first, Samirah wore them. Later, she wore the Muslim-looking hijab and abaya. Later she drifted back to more and more wearing bikini. Here she stands amidst majestic mountains giving us a view of her majestic physique!
Close up of above

As I walked on to the run-down building that housed the pedal-car cubbyholes, I heard a cat-call-whistle and some guy from an apartment window say, "Whooee! Lookin' sharp! What's up, Fuck-Doll?"

I didn't like that name, but, no matter. I replied, "I'm going on a job interview!"
"Good for you! Good luck!" he replied and went back in the window.

"Good heavens, a job interview" I thought to myself. "Why did my brain come up with... hmmm..."

My brain registered, how I was dressed right now is not too far from how one would dress for most jobs which was surprising due to my near nudeness. There might be some office jobs or managerial positions where it might be best to wear a bikini with a little more coverage and maybe no high-heels, but that's about it. As far as interviewing for pedal-car Servicer positions are concerned, no problem. One can go in naked for those. My brain registered that all service centers are crying for pedal-car Servicers. "Great!" I thought, "With my reputation, I'm going to need an "employee's market"" I thought.

As I unlocked the cubbyhole and drew out my nice looking, deep-maroon pedal-car (sold to me at greatly reduced price by a male pedal-car service shop manager) my mind raced away with plans and decisions...

This walking around barely dressed in a thong bikini was cool, and I planned on doing it maybe, on days off in... well, maybe not so public places. And with Alex! But I really wanted to change my look. I planned to go all the way to the other side of the Central Capital to look for pedal-car Servicer positions and find an apartment. But first, I was thinking about a certain fad, or... movement... of some kind started apparently, by the race of people of whom I am a member.

As Alex has already pointed out, there are two races and I was obviously of the Betaqh Race. Among that race, a sort of spiritualist movement was going on. They believe indulgence in sex is rampant and run-away here... and it is! Among the ways they suggest to slow it down some is the wearing of very conservative, shape-hiding clothes.

Now, I don't know where this planet is... It may be in the next star-system close to earth, or it might be zillions of light-years away in a far-off galaxy, far out of reach by the most powerful optical or radio telescope, or somewhere in between. But here has developed, a conservative clothing style so close to the Middle Eastern hijab and abaya, that one can only conclude that there is indeed, a Grand Universal Law for the whole physical Universe, no matter where one might be within it. Indeed, there is one God or, if you wish, "Prime Creative Force", who drives everything in the entire Universe, seen and unseen.

Some people here (in Shasheer) feel those who wear the hijab and abaya are somewhat extreme and maybe stuck up. Some social commentators here classify it as merely a new style of clothing. Well, what ever it is, I felt that was the clothing for me.

I left the service-way of that apartment and into the street. I headed my pedal-car straight to the nearest fine store that catered to the new clothing style I knew about.

(And of course, it was what used to be Leslie's brain that had that information. Attached to that bit of knowledge was the stigma, "The Stuck-Up Store". Well, I would soon be changing that...)

By the way, I will just call them hijab (the head-piece) and abaya (the robe part), the Arabic terms for them. As this is coming to you from another language anyway, they have their words for it, which henceforth shall be translated into: Hijab and abaya.

Well, there I was, in a pedal-car, pedaling down some street in what used to be, what we thought was, Alex's imagination! I couldn't believe it! I thought, wait 'till Alex sees this! Wait 'till Alex sees this!

It kind of dawned on me suddenly... I had been so busy planning and deciding I had not noticed... Not to mention, Leslie's brain had everything I needed to get along in this world, already in place and well practiced...

By the way, it is interesting however; I noticed there was always a small delay. For example, I would ask in thought, "Now how do I do such and such" or "where is something-or-other" and always, maybe a half second later, the "knowing" would cascade into my consciousness. I would assume Neurologists, Psychiatrists and those who study Metaphysics would be interested in the partitioning of duties of the physical brain and the spirit's "knowledge-banks"... But... since this journal comes from what the society of that world will consider "an obscure and unreliable source", it will most likely be ignored. Otherwise, these experiences could be useful input to the above mentioned fields of studies. Oh well...

So, it dawned on me suddenly, that here I am, doing something that Alex would, well, as he has said in a number of places on his web-site, give ANYTHING for!

Here is a society that has built in to it, a life style and infrastructure that includes such healthful exercise as this! Think of it! No more exercise clubs! No more time set aside for lengthy exercises, either at home or a club. You can eat all you like. You must eat well, because this life-style burns tons of calories!

There are few exceptions where obesity can strike... Certain people who live way in the boonies working at home and never go out, certain other kinds of "shut-ins", and, my own body's situation when Leslie had it...
She hardly ever went out, during the warmer seasons anyway; just a little strolling around at night looking for sex. She ate sweets, chocolates, and drank alcoholics but did little exercise. There's the source of the beginnings of rolls of fat just over my hips, and in my tummy if I stooped over. I will change that, of course. Thank goodness the trade resulting in my "walk-in" into this body occurred no later than it did! Another couple of years and I believe Leslie would have just plain been fat. (According to Spirit Guides and her own Higher Self, she was near committing suicide anyway, so she may have never reached the "fat-stage".)

So there I was, in a deep maroon pedal-car, easily zipping along a street. The speedometer read units you readers are unfamiliar with, but my physical brain translated it into symbology my spirit understands, enabling me, therefore, to tell you my speed was something like 38 to 42 miles per hour. A combination of superb streamlining of the pedal-car and my huge, rippling thigh muscles made that speed possible.

It's very different from riding a bicycle. The pedal-car puts you low to the ground in a very stable stance, you are almost reclining and the body of the pedal-car protects you from all weather except heat... which this place has very little of.

The way a pedal-car is arranged makes it appear to have a long front-end. The "engine" under that "hood" is your legs. Sitting in a pedal-car, I can see just over the hood; plenty of good visibility from the "head-bubble", the raised part of the pedal-car that accommodates your head and seeing out. If the rider looks down, they can generally see the thighs of their legs working away...
Well, so there I went again... I looked down and saw my big muscular brown thighs rippling their muscles! My muscles flexed and looked so powerful! It was so fascinating to watch, I nearly crashed three times, two times almost rear-ending somebody. Man! One can have a wreck in a pedal-car too; better believe it!

But... for all my powerful great legs... I was passed. Passed! Again and again. I pedaled a bit faster. My thighs began to burn. "Mmm! That's it! This Leslie laying around drunk and getting sexed all the time never exercised; she's probably out of shape compared to these other people." I thought to myself. "Oh well, it want take long!" I reassured myself.

And I found out, that knock-out body I had was not unique. My heavens, all women here have knock-out bodies! As I pedaled, I saw some people strolling. Most were blond or light-colored-hair types called Taqh Race. But some were like me, Betaqh. The Taqh women were so tall, muscular and very powerful! And lean! No fat at all, anywhere! Some of them were out and out massive, with crushing powerful builds. I thought, no man is going to harass them, that's for sure!

If anything, a man might have to worry about being harassed by the Taqh women. They have an insatiable desire for sex and will sex anywhere. I passed a park and saw some of them, naked, with their guys and usually over them, their big butts flying up and down in open, unashamed, full-blown sex. They don't try to hide, they merely do it to the side of the trail or whatever. And I saw more than one masturbating on a tree's limb or the back of a park bench. And boy can they scream! I could hear it even in my pedal-car with the whir-whir-whir of my pedaling.

Anyway, I didn't worry too much about those Taqh women a whole lot because they were kinda monsterish and I didn't think Alex would go for them other than to just be fascinated. It was those Betaqh gals that got to me!

The Betaqh women were dressed cool! Some had long skirts split all the way to the waist. Their legs were hard, muscles rippled, and their tummies, if showing, were wash-board bumpy and steel-plate hard. Their tummies looked like you could strike them with a hammer and their tummy would go "ding!"! If you struck my tummy at that moment, you'd get a "plop" sound and I'd bend over in pain. "Well", thought I, "I'll soon be changing that!"

It quickly became apparent, the Betaqh race dresses more conservatively than the larger, blond Taqh race. Taqh men and women often go out naked. If they wear anything at all its only g-strings and thong-bikinis. They were naked or nearly so but the women wore this and that jewelry and occasionally, high-heel shoes.

Betaqh women wore that split skirt I mentioned, usually had some kind of top on, and quite a few, wore hijab and abaya! I did not see any Betaqh women in high-heel shoes.

So... It looked like I was dressed a bit extreme for a Betaqh woman. Oh well, that's what I'm changing.

"Here it is" I thought to myself, as that fine store that catered to the hijab and abaya wearing crowd pulled into sight. The store faced a park and was shaded by trees. It was in what appeared to be suburbs. The store was lone-standing, not connected to other buildings, mall or any shopping center.

I swung my pedal car to their tree shaded parking lot which was behind the store. I found myself between two rows of dual-level cubbyholes; pedal-car parking. Off to the side of the parking lot was some kind of small building or something that appeared to have bays for driving the pedal-car into... I didn't know what it was; I assumed it to be some kind of pedal-car service facility although my physical brain disagreed with me. But I was too excited about buying new clothes to think more of it.

I clamored out of my pedal-car a little moist with sweat. The dry air on my bare skin felt cool and refreshing. I rolled the pedal-car into a ground-level cubbyhole... And locked its door with a pad-lock that, once again, my brain, trained by Leslie, had knowledge of where it was (in an almost hidden side-pocket near the pedal-car seat) all ready to go.

I must confess to becoming just a bit horny as I walked confidently, high-heels clacking, bare breasts way out in the cool air, hips swaying and muscle-butt jiggling. Between my legs my thong felt a bit damp against my genital and was clinging. Across the street, two tall blondes, totally naked, strolled along. Wow! I was in equal company!
Maybe you have already seen it,
but here it is again as a... well
"refresher". Another look at Samirah
just about to go into that store.
Walking fast and strong, I walked to the front of that store, swung around to the front, on to the entrance, pulled the door open... And for all I could tell I passed a dimensional barrier back to Earth and Iran... or maybe, not so strict a country... Egypt perhaps, or Saudi Arabia... some place fairly strict about wearing the hijab and abaya but where at least you have a choice of colors and styles.

Heads on the Floor Persons and a couple customers all turned after I came whooshing in. I was two square inches from naked. ALL of them were as covered as anything I saw back in Iran, just more colorful! There was a male Floor Person, a Betaqh Race, dressed in the monk's robe. The lady Floor Person was a Betaqh Race as well and wore all white, from hijab to abaya including shiny white borders. I thought it kind of nice. The two customers browsing around were both Betaqh Women, all covered in hijab and abaya. One wore a dark turquoise abaya with white hijab and the other wore all black, from hijab to abaya. (Wow, just like Iran! But a shinier, prettier black.) Boy did I feel embarrassed!

But what a difference in attitude! The two customers smiled while the lady Floor Person came up to me saying, simply, "Hi young lady! You plan to begin wearing more? We have what you need. I can show you something nice!"

In Iran, I would have been carted off to jail for a hundred years amongst jeering and taunting. And that's even if that person wants to change her ways!
And that is exactly what I don't understand about Islam in Iran. They seem bent on making people, especially women, suffer. Islam is NOT about slapping people in jail left and right, or shooting or beheading them left and right! NO! Islam is all about helping people; helping those that are struggling, and gently teaching the good news of Almighty God! And under the law of Islam, men and women are EQUAL!

Ach! All the Iranian government is, are a bunch of stuck up, uneducated, narrow-minded, women-hating crotchety old men! They are about as Islamic as... a prostitute! Oh well... I'm a billion light years away from that, Thanks and Praise to GOD!

But... I must say I was embarrassed! However, the Floor Person quickly soothed me with her kind voice as she began showing me delightfully colored abayas and hijabs.

Funny, she was going to sell me a "training-hijab" due to the fact she assumed I was doing this for the first time. A training-hijab is not much more than a big, ornate hood that sort of zips up. I liked the big-scarf kind; the type one sort of wraps. At first I thought they maybe didn't have it, after all, I'm a zillion light-years away from Iran! But she was wearing one as were the two other shoppers. I asked for the wrapping kind, to her surprise.

I took my selection of clothes to a dressing room. When I began to wrap the hijab, I suffered a moment's hesitation... I forgot how! But only for a few seconds. I closed my eyes and "went inward". Got it! This time my knowledge for something came from my spirit and subconscious, not the physical brain. You can bet your boots, for sure Leslie didn't know anything about wrapping a hijab!

So, another interesting demonstration of physical-brain/spirit cooperation in storing knowledge.

When I put the abaya on, I took off my thong bikini... which was quite damp with vaginal secretions I noticed, and it was obvious. That embarrassed me a bit to think they, in the store, may have seen that. I was glad to take off the thong... it pressed into my vagina slightly, stimulating it, making me slightly horny. It's just like if you guys were to keep brushing a feather over your penis; it would slightly arouse you.

So underneath the abaya, I was naked. "So?" you may ask, "aren't we all "naked" underneath our clothes?" Well, not necessarily. Many folks wear underwear. And in Iran, it is against the law to go out wearing only one's hijab and abaya. There's supposed to be pants and other stuff underneath it. Well, not here. As a matter of fact, I did ask the Floor Lady if the hijab and abaya was all there was. I assumed there would be all kinds of stuff underneath and so on. Looking puzzled, she replied, "no, just these; that's enough, isn't it?". I agreed! But oh! Not in many Middle East countries!

They are not that hard to put on. To put on the abaya, just slip it over head, raising one's arms. It gently slips on down. Then one arranges it a bit and it's good to go! The hijab must be wrapped and arranged but, that's no big deal either once you get the hang of it; it is sort of like you guys learning to tie a dress-tie.

I did keep having to remind "Leslie's brain" the first few times I wrapped the hijab, though. Funny feeling that was. Strange too, I couldn't be under pressure or in public; I had to be in a quiet place where I could close my eyes and momentarily drift into blackness... and snatch the memory as an automatic procedure. It was a kind of quickie self-hypnosis!

Once I was walking along going to my first job interview, when I walked under a low hanging branch of a tree hanging low over the sidewalk. Zip! Off went my hijab, snatched by the branch! I pulled it off and began wrapping it... but amongst the hubbub, the noise, the other people and all, I just could not remember how to do it. So I just folded the hijab and walked along until I came upon a secluded little spot between a bush and a building. Ducking behind the bush, it was shady and quiet. I closed my eyes and did my self-hypnosis thing, and sure enough... Got it! I went on to the job interview properly dressed... I guess... Everyone in there was naked or dressed in thongs or g-strings.

And that brings me to my primary concern, getting a job, which for me, meant pedal-car service. I job hunted the old-fashioned way... pounding the pavement. I just walked from place to place, going in and talking to the Manager or Boss.
Indeed I did a huge amount of walking... and riding a rickshaw... they call them hand-cars... OH! I gotta explain something! Again! I found it out as soon as I left the store wearing a shimmering green abaya with snow-white hijab and carrying another dark-blue abaya with snow-white hijab... well, white hijabs are cooler!

With the abaya flowing gracefully behind me and making me feel more at home... I walked on back to the pedal-car parking. I unlocked the cubbyhole, pulled the pedal-car out and began to get in... oops! Like uh... no way!

There was no way I could enter; well I could enter with great difficulty, but then pedaling would definitely be impossible.

Hmmm!

Both my physical brain and spirit knowledge failed on this one!

Leslie's brain certainly had no information on it, and in Iran, there were no such thing as pedal-cars and I never rode a bicycle (not allowed, for women... stupid idiots!).

Then, slowly, my physical brain began to register bits and pieces of what Leslie had heard of what she considered "stuck-up miss-prissies". Though her disgust was attached to each bit of knowledge I pulled out of her brain, I did finally get the picture...
And that's what that... facility is on the corner...

Alex has already explained it. These facilities are all over town and in many parks and more are being built every day. They cater to this conservative clothing movement of the Betaqh Race.

Basically: The Betaqh Women and Men pedal to a location while naked or nearly so. Pull into (in the pedal-car) a bay of one of these facilities, deposit coins to close door for up to 15 minutes, get out, shower if necessary, dress in hijab and abaya (or "monks" robe for men) open door, exit and park pedal-car.

For parks, the Betaqh lady or man will picnic, stroll around or take rides in the hand-cars (rickshaws) pulled by big strong blond amazons.

In town, the Betaqh lady will ride a hand-car from store to store. The pedal-car is parked in one of many pedal-car parking centers all over town. Each center includes several privacy bays for showering and changing clothes.

Lone standing stores like the one I was just in have their own facility with just two or three bays.

Well...

At this point, I had already skipped the arrival part of it. So I just stripped my abaya and hijab. I was fully naked then, but there was no one who cared in sight. (In the distance were two naked blond ladies strolling; I don't think they would mind! I was concerned only with Betaqh people of the new movement.)

Well, back to the job hunting...

I did as described above. I drove the pedal-car to the other side of town to a location fairly centralized to where I wanted to search, used the privacy-bay-facility, parked the pedal-car, and started out walking looking for jobs.

This is where those big strong amazons pulling the hand-cars really came in handy.
Dressed in next to nothing, their huge, tall muscular bodies whisk the hand-car at pretty good speeds from place to place. I had no idea where the pedal-car service centers were in this side of town, but they did. All I had to do is explain to her I am looking for pedal-car Servicer jobs. She nodded her head, smiled and knew where to go. I had to pay the Puller to wait for me while I was inside interviewing so she wouldn't leave with another customer, leaving me to wait.

Within one day, I walked into some fifteen pedal-car service shops while the big, blond Puller named Gail must have logged over 20 miles. And that's walking or running miles. A Puller simply walks or trots, pulling the hand-car behind her.

I saw three places twice each at different times. It really is an Employee's market... most of the time. Some are kind of picky-picky about what kind of person they will hire.

In a couple of places, I think my hijab and abaya actually voided me out. Gail the Puller was pretty good at helping avoid most places like that. But, she missed on a few. Run by bitchy, big blond and naked Taqh Race women, they look upon Betaqh women who wear the new clothes-style with disdain.

I wouldn't want to work in those kinds of places anyway. The boss is a big, muscular blond bitch who just wants to sex with the all-male Servicers all day. Another place was a little better, at least they had Lady Servicers... but all Taqh Race and buck naked. But the strong loving Hand of Loving God was guiding me...

I became employed at a pedal-car service center run by a Betaqh Lady wearing a light beige abaya with white hijab. (I thought that outfit was really pretty, and wished I had bought one for myself. Oh well...)

I spent the night at a facility that doubled as an apartment and hotel. I stayed in the hotel rooms for a few days while I "stabilized" my new job.

Leslie's brain pulled through just fine! I was a bit slow at first, but I was surprised at how well I could get in to a dysfunctional pedal-car and get it repaired, first-class. The Betaqh Lady manager helped me quite a bit. The other Servicers ranged from dressed in gray "work-abaya" to thong bikinis. One Servicer was a Betaqh lady who normally dressed in a nice hijab and abaya, but at work, she wore only a thong and went topless. I did the same at first, until I too purchased a gray "work-abaya". Working in a thong bikini was kind of neat, but I really felt most natural in an abaya.

Serious apartment hunting began after a week. I searched on a weekend and several work-day evenings after getting off from work. Then I found that place described above when Alex went home the first time with me. It's tranquillity and splendid view was irresistible. Despite having to commute 15 miles to work, I loved it.

After settling in, I went to a legal center and began a procedure to officially change my name from Leslie Soaring-Eagle to Samirah Silver-Dove. I chose "Silver-Dove" because... well, that's what Alex was calling me in his stories... and I liked it. Also... I'm thinking about, how in the dickens is he going to find me when he gets here! I hope he'll think of looking up Samirah Silver-Dove.
And yes, quite naturally, I'll go by Samirah! That's who I have been introducing myself as, everywhere.

I had to write an official reason why I was changing my name. I wrote of the squalor I used to live in. One can be honest with these people. They are not so judgmental as American or especially, Iranian societies. They understand a man or woman finally turning from physical indulgence to a way closer to Allah. The procedure went smoothly. So then, henceforth, my name officially was as I was introducing myself anyway, Samirah Silver-Dove.

Everything was well after that. Weeks became months and everything became routine enough for me to relax. The only change is when I started working for Big Brenda. She paid more (60% of labor rather than 48%) and was closer to commute to.

By the way, I bought a new pedal-car soon after starting work for Brenda. Brenda told me a customer saw my pedal-car and thought it was a used one for sale and wanted it very much. I thought to myself a change of pedal-cars would be good to further deepen my change from Leslie to Samirah. So, I traded the deep-maroon one for a brand-new light-blue and white pedal-car of high quality that Brenda gave me a great deal on.

Commuting that 15 miles each way to the farther job annihilated my rolls of fat. After a couple months, they were GONE! And my legs became large and supple, rippled with powerful muscle and were hard as steel. That job's commute served as "shock-treatment" to get me back in the running with other Betaqh Race women. And thus, also, it further distanced me from Leslie's squalor.

The closer job would maintain my legs and leanness but not take so much time. At first, I commuted by pedal-car. Then I found out I could just hike through the park and not use the pedal-car at all. That saved time showering and wearing the abaya and hijab when I arrived to work. And the walking was great for maintaining my legs and waist-line. Plus, I still pedaled considerable distances for weekend trips by pedal-car.

Now, during the months between when I first "walked in" to this body and before Alex showed up, some other unexplainable changes happened to my body other than becoming more fit. My eyes gradually became more "almond" shaped, rather than slit-like as with the eyes of most Betaqh Women which are sort of like many Chinese eyes. My eye-brows became a little thicker. My skin tone became just a little more olive but remained nicely dark. My nose grew just a bit more prominent. I hope it stays where it is now; it is just right. My nose is still a bit "buttonish" but not to the extent of before. My nose was too small (for my liking) when I first assumed this body.

The biggest change was my hair. At first, it was smooth and flowing. Rather quickly it began to curl. Strange, I did not cut it short and then it grew back curly, no. The present hair, with out cutting off and growing back out, just became much more curly. By the end of three to four months, my hair looked like it did in Iran, Earth. Every so often, if without my hijab, other people, especially Betaqh women, admired my hair. It was quite flattering to me, that attention. I was tempted to stop wearing my hijab. But after a number of times having Betaqh women interested in girly-sex follow me in the park during my walk-commute with their fingers in my curls, I returned to wearing the hijab.
Anyway, I can't explain these changes unless they have something to do with my "spirit-body".

Everything was well, but I was lonely. For some reason, I did not want anything to do with the Betaqh men that wanted dates with me. And those gigantic Taqh men with their tremendous penises always out and throbbing as they stroll around naked scared me. No way did I want anything to do with them!

Then at last, a few weeks after getting the job at Big Brenda's Service center, my dear Alex finally came! Ahh!"
And so Samirah made her way from Iran, Earth to Shasheer and here we sat, under a sprawling lone tree in a mountain meadow of cool green grass and wild flowers.

Samirah is just too darn sweet. As I sat there with her in my arms after that story, I began to harden up again. I tried to ignore it but Samirah saw it and... off with her abaya again; she did it, I did not request it this time (although she probably knew it was coming eventually). So once again, in her loving body, she imparted to me more of her "special-sugar" as I had been calling it.

After a nap, it was back to home via a casual stroll and then pedal-car ride. Tomorrow would be "with-Cleo-day".

As much as I loved, adored and even worshipped Samirah, Cleo continued to exert that unexplained pull on me. Every darned time I would look into her face, I either hardened up or just became almost like entranced. Her eyes pulled at me. I just don't understand it. It goes beyond physical...

As far as looks are concerned, Samirah is the better looking one. Samirah's body is younger than Cleo. Samirah's face is smoother, clearer. Samirah has a cute button nose (although Samirah herself says she likes Cleo's nose; she says it's distinctive looking. Hmm, might be right... well, in any case...)

Something about Cleo is coarser, louder and more brash than Samirah. Cleo's features are coarser. Cleo seems to think (well actually, knows) that she is excruciatingly sexy. She is awfully sexy but she's so confident about it... I just don't know; normally, I would not be attracted to such a woman very much. It's just that... she has such a pull on me. And she dam well knows it!

Thank goodness Cleo is so nice and tries her very best to please Allah in her actions. She could easily mess Samirah and me up. I take much blame for seeming to be weak... but... in my defense, there are other Betaqh women just as sexy, with the same fashion and the same hair style that, while impressive to me, do not so much as jitter my Love for Samirah. So Cleo has some extra something, something unseen physically, that always ensnares me.

Thank goodness also, Cleo really does seem to be genuinely attracted to Samirah. Cleo thinks Samirah's hair is the cutest she has ever seen. The first thing Cleo, always dressed in an attractive abaya and hijab, does every time she arrives at our apartment is walk straight to Samirah (who's usually naked now, if in our apartment) and begin fiddling with Samirah's numerous black shiny curls.

Cleo treats Samirah to vagina-wrenching, long drawn out orgasms via that clit-sucking kind of sex she does. When Samirah has sex with me, her orgasms come hard and are over quickly. But this Cleo seems to have the ability to bring Samirah to agonizingly slow, long lasting orgasms that leave Samirah spent and very contented. By this time Cleo, who usually does not strip while she entertains Samirah, is intensely aroused, and so am I from watching and hearing Samirah. At that point, Cleo does strip and devours me. Helpless against her, I blow up as does she. Sometimes I feel Cleo's vagina is going to bite my penis off, right at the base.

Generally, I would classify the situation of Samirah and myself, not quite perfect, but awfully darn close. I just don't understand this Cleo-thing. But, in this society, having more than one true love is not unusual. A lot of sex partners, yes, that's one thing. But I'm talking "true-love".

Cleo explains it thus: Allah is the ultimate source of true love. Therefore, a single person's capacity to love is not limited. A person's love does not "divide" among two or more true-loves. Allah is the source and his love is infinite. You (the one who true-loves two or more) are merely a director, a focusing mechanism of Allah's love. Allah's love comes to you, and you connect it, or aim it, to select persons.
Now physical love, sex, is limited to the lover and must be divided. But not so for true-love (or "spirit-level"-love).

And that's another thing about Cleo. She is very well learned in all metaphysical sciences. She is an accomplished out-of-body explorer. She can access hers or anybody's Akashic records. She can spirit-travel to very high planes. She's just plain wise. Great looking, sexy and wise! That is an unusual combination!

Yes, that first one or two days, Cleo may have been brusque... she threatened Samirah and was going to steal me. But, Cleo is just human. Even highly evolved spirits such as Cleo can be tempted. That's what this physical plane experience is all about; testing, training, learning, evolving.

So Samirah and I both have to endure the lessons of sharing true-love. Not perfect but, my heavens, look at both Samirah's and my own Akashic records. Some of the stuff uncovered was horrifying...

First thing we found out is that for the past near 100 past lives, Cleo and I have been together. In thirty of those lives, I was Cleo's Daughter with "her" being my Father, or... I was wife and Cleo was husband (different names of course). In all the other lives, and for the recent fifty incarnations, Cleo was either my Mother or my Wife. If my Wife, she was always dominant even though sometimes I had positions of power. Cleo's grand spirit-plan seems to be helping me evolve my soul so she and I can break free of the earth plane finally. Cleo was ready to break free once, thousands of years ago. But continuing to physically incarnate to help me has brought her down with occasional occurrences of karmic debt. Truly, Cleo is sacrificing some for me. And let me tell you, I was a mess! And, we found out, so was Samirah... to a lesser degree.

Below, I will relate what we found from the Akashic records about Samirah and I. Now let's see, who shall we do first... Let's do Samirah first. She was quite a villain in past lives but wait 'till you hear mine...

Actually, Samirah's was a typical case of being given a chance to do great good by being allowed into an incarnation of great power and wealth.

After ascending her soul to a pretty high level, a couple thousand years ago, Samirah was born into wealth and was extremely sexy. She used her wealth and charms for her own fun and selfish gain. She was little more than a rich prostitute and manipulator.

For two incarnations she was given a chance. After piling much karmic debt, the next few incarnations were humble where she behaved well. Then, a few hundred years ago finds her as a male religious authority, something like a Mullah. "He" sent countless people, including women, to their deaths via beheading.

She spent a miserable incarnation as a poor prostitute along the trade route between China and Europe somewhere in what is now Afghanistan. Natural Parents gone, her Uncle did not give a rat's butt for her and used her to make extra money for his inn. Male guests spending the night, could, for a fee, sex the teenage prostitute.

With no care and no health facilities, and with every kind of grungy male from all corners of the continent having their way with her body, it was not long before she came down with serious illness. She died alone and without care or love, victim of some sexually transmitted disease, at something like sixteen years of age.

After that terrible incarnation, her incarnations were just humble. Not bad, not good, just a "Joe-Blow" or "Plain-Jane" of nondescript characteristics. She went through two of these incarnations as a male. Her last few incarnations up to her very last incarnation on Iran, Earth, was female.

Cleo is able to attain a spiritual plane of very high vibrational frequency. Samirah and I can not go that high. Cleo found out from high Spiritual Authorities that Samirah is making good progress, especially during her prematurely terminated incarnation in Iran. She is advised to accept her greatly improved but still not quite perfect situation in Shasheer with honor and dignity, and her next incarnation will be a fine one, either on Earth, or on Shasheer; her choice.

Okay. Now me. Hold on to your hats. Hope you're sitting down...

For the past 10,000 years, all my many incarnations have been on Shasheer except of course, this one... which has now been corrected back to Shasheer. (Interestingly, I spent a few incarnations as a nondescript person in the ancient civilization of Lemuria, on Earth. Further back, 500,000 years, there were a few incarnations as a highly developed animal, nearly human, on yet another planet other than Earth or Shasheer.)

Okay, here we go...

This general kind of story seems to repeat itself again and again with many souls... They ascend to a high level of evolvement, the karmic debt is almost gone, then they are given a life of wealth and power to do even more good... and they waste it for selfish gain and pleasure, pile up karmic debt and basically have to do it over again.

I was particularly nasty in one life, and ordinarily nasty in many other lives. Let's get the ordinary stuff done first. I went through a number of those kinds of cycles; good for several humble incarnations, received a great incarnation and blow it only to do it over again.

I sent my share of people to death, bullied others, either physically with a physique of huge muscles, or politically with power, black-mailed, swindled, headed a criminal organization, you name it.

Always the soul I now know as Cleo was there by my side. (I will call her Cleo in her other incarnations for simplicity. But remember, she went by various other names.) She went with me through rich and powerful incarnations, and down-trodden humble ones. She always somehow, was dominant. Her presence was quiet, in the back-ground, but she was always there, in some level of dominance over me, from impassioned advice to out right over-riding my orders.

In my powerful incarnations, Cleo was most often my Mother. This gave her some authority as the Mother of a powerful leader. And as she entered old age, good living conditions insured her survival until I met my end, usually at young or middle age due to being assassinated.

In my humble incarnations, my "punishment" or karmic-debt-paying incarnations, Cleo usually was my Wife. Knowing I was going to suffer frustrations, bullying from others and poverty, she made sure to be by my side, to give me her unwavering love to help me bear up and successfully complete a life of neutralizing karmic-debt.

In one particularly bitter life I went through, Cleo was not there... Under advice from Spirit Guides, she "side-lined" that incarnation while I went through a life of suffering without her to come crying to.

Once when out-of-body, I ended up actually reliving part of that life. Talk about grievous. All during that life I dreamed of a special woman. It was like I intensely missed her, like missing someone loved who died. Yet, there was never a woman that I first had, then lost as would be in most cases involving that emotion.

I tried every kind of scheme and method that my impoverished condition would allow to find a special woman to fill that void in my heart... and always ended up either simply failing, or getting broken-hearted by some woman who found it fun to do that to men. In that life, I was finally beaten to death by angry men with whom a money-making scheme failed.

Well, before you start shedding tears for me, read about what I did two incarnations before that one...

I was a very powerful leader of a tribal nation of considerable size, including conquered territories. I had a huge and powerful physique. The only person with a physique as large and powerful as mine was my Wife; yes, the one now called Cleo. (One of the few rich and powerful lives where she was my Wife rather than Mother.)

Both she and I towered head and shoulders over others. Muscles rippled atop other muscles on both of us. I strolled around naked at all times, and she strapped on bits of cloth to cover her genital.

As I gained more and more unquestioned power, I began terrorizing my enemies in a manner inconceivably horrible.

Captured enemy warriors, especially any kind of leader, Captains or Chieftains, whether captured by me personally or by my Warriors, would be treated to a terrible process...

In front of many people of my tribe-nation, and sometimes in front of the leaders of weak tribal nations that had something (crops, gold, whatever) that I wanted, and in front of anybody or anything else that dared watch, I would select, from their cages, an enemy; a Warrior, Captain or maybe even a captured Chieftain.

After I had been doing this for a time, and word of it spread, they knew what was going to happen. Some went bravely, quietly. Some went screaming, begging for their life.

I single-handedly, without help from my guards, dragged a victim from his cage. I dragged him to the middle of a marked off area in the village. Then I pinned his legs under my feet. By this time, I already had a huge throbbing erection. (Remember, buck naked. No one wore many clothes at all but I was always nude.)
With the victim's legs under my feet and my full weight on them (which right there sometimes broke their legs) I grabbed the victim's head and slowly, just plain pulled it off.

Holding the headless body by the arm, the body would usually jerk and convulse with blood jetting out of the neck-stump for a few seconds. I held the head high for all to see. Then I would toss it aside. If a tribal leader from a weak tribe was there, I would toss the head to him.
Then, as the headless body began to quiet, I threw it down. I got over it, positioned my hardened penis at the neck-stump and proceeded to thrust into the neck until I ejaculated into it. I would moan and wail loudly from the pleasure I felt. Then, getting up with my penis dripping with blood and semen, I would toss the body for someone to dispose of. Again, if the tribal leader of a weak tribe was there, I threw the body to him.

Sometimes I did this to two or three victims in a row. As each victim went down, the other one or two had to watch, knowing they were next.

I made a show of it sometimes. Holding the headless body way over my head showing my huge muscles, I would thrust my penis in the air in mock... masturbation I guess... before using the body's neck-stump for masturbation.

Look, I already told you, you better be sitting!

Cleo tried desperately to veer me off this horrible course. Sometimes in the middle of a "show", she grabbed the victim from me before I pulled the head off. Then, right there in front of all, she grabbed my penis and forced me in her. By that time I had no control and usually orgasmed in her. She kept me at it until two or three orgasms later, I was spent and would go home to sleep. She then negotiated a less horrific death for them, maybe a simple beheading.

Cleo tried and tried but to no avail. Finally, according to Akashic records, during a dream Cleo went out of body to arrange an end to my physical incarnation with Spirit Guides. She did not remember that dream during her incarnation of that life.

A soul presently incarnated in a Captain of an enemy tribe was selected. His Higher Self agreed. Although it meant his physical death, the act would erase huge amounts of karmic debt from his records.

Into the neck of this Captain, via a surgery they were capable of, a number of sharp pin-like knives (not "pen-knives", objects something like a pin but flat and bladed) were inserted and anchored. The Captain then drank a liquid contaminated with a dangerous disease. The sickness has a long incubation time of three weeks. This gave the Captain time to launch a "spy" mission from which he knew he would be captured and never return.

A note here... The terms "tribe", "Chieftain" and so on may give the Reader an impression of a bunch of drum-beating savages. But they were quite advanced in some ways. But every one went their own way resulting in many tiny "nations" better described as "tribes". These people lived in modern-like house and used animals and a type of crude pedal-car for transportation. They knew about diseases and a little surgery. Apparently, they were able to place the pin-like knives in that Captain's neck in a way it would not harm him if he took care (I assume) not to turn his head a certain way. He knew he was going to die. (Wow, now that's bravery! Hat's off to that soul where ever he may be.)

Sure enough, after he was captured, I gave that Captain "the treatment". After pulling off his head and holding his headless body up, I threw it down and rammed my erected penis in his neck stump... OUCH! It got me good. My penis came out lacerated and bleeding badly.

My strong body had no trouble with the low-grade infections normal for such cuts. But the dangerous disease was in my body and began its incubation. I had no more sex with my Wife (who is now Cleo) for a time while the nasty cuts healed. But just as the cuts were nearing completion in healing, I did not feel like sex. In the next few days, I burned with fever. In another few days, my incarnation of horror ended.

Akashic records indicate I spent the next 300 years after that wailing and moaning in horrible agony of grief, regret, and longing for that who is Cleo in the lower astral plane.

In an incarnation after that, I was a weak retarded boy that was always picked on and tormented by others. My Mother was that who is now Cleo. (Again, a change from the usual; in poor incarnations, Cleo usually was my Wife.) She loved me and cared for me as she could. I took my frustrations out on her. Of all the people on Shasheer, and I was mean to the one and only who loved and cared for me. Much later, I died after a lingering illness that spent the body of Cleo caring for me. Akashic records indicate she physically died soon after I did.

Akashic records indicate, after I physically died, I spent another 100 years in the lower astral plane, then had the incarnation mentioned above where I had to live without my loving Cleo. Finally, after that, I began a slow progression back to more normal, but not great, incarnations.

This is good lesson to anyone! Indeed, the Quran says generally, anyone who does not live life right and follow the law and advice of Allah, will have a life hereafter that will be grievous indeed. And man, does that ever happen! Also note, "life hereafter" can mean a spiritual situation, such as my times in the lower astral plane, or incarnations involving a lot of poverty and suffering.

I am going to leave it at that now, and conclude this journal/dairy style of story. There is no clear cut ending except the description of how things settled. Cleo eventually moved in with us. Samirah, Cleo and I all love each other, and we carefully observe Allah's laws to prevent the possible fallouts that a situation such as ours could easily produce normally.

All together a fascinating metaphysical experience, what I went through. It answered a lot of questions about my life while on Earth in that society. Interestingly, just like that incarnation already mentioned when I lived a life without Cleo, I kept missing someone, badly missing someone, just like someone you loved died, and you can't quite get over it. Yet, in my life on Earth, there was never first a special woman... yet, I missed her like there was one once. Most fascinating, the effects of past-lives and people you meet or have relationships with, in those past lives.

And of course, my unexplained sudden interest in Middle East culture was explained. It is touching to me, how Samirah detected my void, and attempted to fill it with love the best she could without a physical body and presence.

Thanks and Praise to God (or Allah should I say) for the Blessing that the three of us are at last together in all ways. I hope we are together for the rest of our physical lives, and for an eternity afterward!

And finally, I may have said some things not to highly complementary about the society of USA, Earth. But keep in mind, as this journal indicates, some kind of error was made in my birth on Earth; an error now corrected.

Let me ask you this, dear Reader, especially if you are of USA Canada or much of Western Europe... how would you like it, if: You were in a land where you had to pedal everywhere you went, Had no meat anywhere, No kind of carnivorous pet (no dogs or cats therefore) could be kept at all, and, if you are a man, you actually had to be careful of your body that no sexual advance from a physically powerful woman be made?
And remember, I mean really, how would you feel if a big muscle woman took advantage of you sexually, without your permission, perhaps at a time you were not in the mood or what ever? I know this journal is to appear on a web-site about "Amazon Fantasies". But imagined sexual dominance from an Amazon and the real thing are two different matters!

But anyway, consider the above, and I think you will get at least an inkling of what it was like for me to be in Earth's society. I am contented and feel blessed now. May your way be happy and prosperous!

RETURN to the ART and STORIES page

Side Trip, Other Experiences and and Continuing Updates...
1) A Side Trip...
Samirah, Cleo and I took many trips. Sometimes only Samirah and I went together at Cleo's urging. Anyway, one trip stands out kind of special... I've never seen Samirah loosen up and enjoy herself so. And it is a bit unusual outing anyway... Well, I will not take up space here. CLICK HERE for this "Side-Trip" and colored full size version of the picture to the left, only if you want. Beautiful clear-lake scenery, how a long trip is done by pedal-car including pulling a canoe and tender sex flavor this side excursion.

2) Other Experiences, Friends in Shasheer...
There are lessons to be gleaned from my experiences in Shasheer, non-physical though my "excursion" may have been (although while there, I believe I was physically embodied or possibly "sharing" a physical body) and interesting lessons at that...
The lessons are applicable to Earth, concerning general behavior of people on Earth, the way they treat (or mistreat) the Earth and generally what people consider important in general behavior...
Definite lessons about discrimination, particularly about discrimination against what we call "gays" and "lesbians" are here too...
At first, I was not going to present this part... Miscellaneous in nature, I felt it might be boring, and... I was a little embarrassed... you'll see why when you read!
To readers who may tend towards being "lesbian" or "gay" or "bi", these experiences are encouraging... well, no more quibbling, let's see what happened! Click here...

3) Samirah Bullies Betaqh Men and Spends Night In Jail

As you saw from the account Samirah's World Of Amazons, here we have a former Iranian Earth woman, oppressed, held back, considered secondary if even that, told that sexual urges are sinful and on and on, suddenly in this land of free sex, going nude, nature, women on top and sex is beautiful!
It took a while, but Samirah finally stepped out and embraced and enjoyed her new status, freedom and attitude toward sex and the understanding her sexual urges were perfectly okay.

Well... Samirah got bolder and bolder until she needed just a wee bit of "feather trimming"; just a wee bit of adjustment... Click here...


3-A) My name's Hank Golden-Cloud and I sell hydrogen and hydrogen-accessories, I tell you what...

This is a little added segment that comes after the story/up-date above. It is about an intriguing little couple of cases of a typical Shasheerian, Hank Golden Cloud, who sells hydrogen and hydrogen accessories in Shasheer's solar-energy and wind-energy derived hydrogen economy!
These situations could all be applied to Earth, solving energy and pollution problems once and for all!