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The Spell Bible

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I’m going to have to start referring to my dreams as alternate reality travels rather than just a dream.

Calling it an astral plane would be a misnomer. It’s just a different place in space and time where the world is constructed differently than my and has different physical rules for space and time which permit different things to exist.

In what I am about to talk about’s case.

It’s Magic.

I was walking through a real haunted house. Something that had been especially constructed for me and my entertainment. How it had been constructed and by who or what I am unsure of, all I know is I went through it once – just to get through it – and the next time I went through marveling at the amazing and beautiful detail I had missed on the first pass through on my rush to the finish.

It felt oddly similar to Disney’s Haunted House, maybe a tad more morose in feeling and atmosphere, as I walked from room to room – admiring the amazing detail – whether it was an old grandfather clock or it was a weird book that was left on a shelf that when I looked at it – it changed in front of my eyes, and after trying to analyze it more and seeing the 3d white leaves in the book change and alter shape, the material in the book became cloudy and wrote in the 3d clouds that had formed on the book’s page :

“There’s nothing more to see here”

As I walked through the place, I felt a distinct similarity to the Plane OF Hate as depicted in the original Everquest.

Similar feel. Similar layout.

And similarly haunted.

But this place was so much more detailed.

As I approached a corner of the building, two people ran up behind me.

It was my mom and dad.

I’d picked up a book as they’d ran up to me, and it felt as if they were trying to warn me of something.

About that time, a Banshee, similar to the Banshee I’d seen in an area called the Plaguelands of Worlds Of Warcraft appeared at the far side of the room. As if taunting my faux parents, I say faux because there was something off about them, the banshee approached, and they quickly reacted as the banshee fled away from us.

They made some gestures, raised their hands, and the banshee’s back suddenly had blood streaks cross crossing it’s back, as if it had just been hit by invisible whips my faux parents had conjured up.

I was nonplussed about the entire situation.

Not that none of it mattered.

I was there for the entertainment of it all.

The banshee left the room.

And then I realized I’d been holding the book in my hand, as I looked down at the cover.

“The Spell Bible” it had plainly written on the cover, in much the same way “The Holy Bible” appears on your typical black bible. Fascinated, I opened up the book, and was amazed at the intricate beauty of the book.

The pages were textured just like a standard bible. Remarkably thin, highly detailed.

As I thumbed through this extremely colorful book, I saw spell after spell of things I’d seen in so many spells from video games and dungeons and dragons books before. charm spells. fire working spells such as fireball, weather manipulation spells, healing spells, teleportation, mind manipulation, the list just goes on. The index seemed to keep going and there was no end to the variation and types of spells I was seeing. The book was amazing.

I drifted to a waking state in my real world.

The vision of the amazing spell book still firmly planted like a seed in my mind.

In 1994. I had just begun working for U-Haul Corporate in Downtown Phoenix, when a gorgeous 19 year old blonde named Amie Olson began working as a receptionist for our department.

At the time, I had a girlfriend who was living with me,  Lisa, but having developed a somewhat jaded and cynical regard for women in general thanks to my first wife, Donna Suppes, and her infidelity, it was everything I could do not to hold my grudges against all females.

Fortunately I matured fast, but when I met Amie, like most of the males at UHaul, we were all besides ourselves.

The girl was a stunner. Easily one of the most attractive women I’d ever met when I met her, and with that she had a wonderful personality, and would regularly join the gang in lunch outings and occasional happy hours.

She had a boyfriend, Dax, and while Dax was a decent looking guy, many of us guys wondered aloud what she was doing with him.

A few of my friends I was working with were all too aware my girlfriend worked as a stripper at Tiffany’s, which fascinated Amie one day as she questioned us males going to a local topless place for lunch when I responded to her, privately.

“My girlfriend doesn’t mind, and yes I do tell her I went, as she works at a topless place herself.”

Amie was fascinated. And invited herself with us guys for lunch that day.

From that point forward, the dynamics of the relationship with Amie – and with women in general – began changing for me. Sure, she was attractive as all hell, but because of my history I was trying to do the right thing by not hitting on her.

While Amie was always flirtatious with everyone, nothing ever came of it. In fact – she’d made it very clear nothing ever would. Not just with me. But with anyone. She was quite content with her boyfriend, Dax.

And Lisa began asking questions about this Amie girl I was spending time with, to which I assured her..

“There’s nothing going on.”

And there wasn’t. I was learning about this thing called self control. About looking and not touching. And about seeing women as more than just a sexual figure. Something I desperately needed at that point in my life anyways. And Amie was the perfect bait.

Because God knows how badly I wanted that woman.

Lisa, oddly, kept pointing the finger at me though, which diminished the amount of time I was spending with Amie, and with all my friends in general. I felt rotten a lot, trying to prove myself to a woman and constantly wondering – is what I am doing with male female relationships right? It felt right and mature to me. But with how my first marriage went, I couldn’t help but question myself.

One Saturday evening. Lisa had decided to work on a Saturday night when we had plans to go out.

I was miffed. She invited me to hang out at her club. Which, while I enjoyed Tiffany’s, I just wasn’t in the mood for.

So I called Jeff Kleinman, one of my drinking buddies, who said he was free and “Yeah, let’s do it”

In the meantime, Lisa had left for work, and within minutes after her departure I got a call.

“I wanna get hammered tonight,” Amie said, “Can you escape the wife?”

I wasn’t married, she knew I hated it when she said crap like that…

But I didn’t see a problem with it.

“Sure, I’ll pick you up in an hour,” I said.

I also added “Thought you had plans with Dax this weekend.”

“Yeah well he’s a dick”, she responded.

“Ok then,” I could tell she was feeling emotional, “We’ll talk about it later.”

It was actually a tough place I found myself in mentally though. Lisa and I had just gotten done arguing, I was desperately wanting attention from her that night and was miffed she was going to make money getting attention from other guys instead of me…

On the way out the door, I had a little devilish reminder flit through my head of a conversation we’d had at lunch a few weeks before.

We’d been at Centerfold’s Cabaret, a tiny topless club where the chicken sandwiches with french fries – which were really good – could be purchased for $4.99. Amie had joined a few of us guys, when a girl I had known from Lisa’s topless club – Chrissy – was also working here and walked up to me and said loud enough for Amie to hear.

“Me and the hubby went to Club Chameleon a couple weeks ago after you and Lisa mentioned it. We had a great time!”

On the way back to U-Haul – we’d driven together – Amie nonchalantly asked.

“What was that club she was talking about?”

I bit my lip… thought twice about telling her, but just fessed up.

“It’s a swinger’s club,” as she looked at me blankly, so I continued “a sex club. You go there, and have sex with your partner, watch others have sex, or have sex with other random people, sometimes it’s a free for all, sometimes it’s couples only, but it’s always about sex”

“Oh my god I want to go!,” she surprised me by saying, I thought this was my in…

“I can’t wait to tell Dax about it, where’s it at?,” she added.

My libido sank.

Re-enter devilish thought.

I’d learned a little more about Amie over the next few weeks, surprised about some of the things, and discovered she enjoyed some BDSM. Being a little miffed at Lisa. I walked to the closet near the door in the garage on the way out and picked up a dog collar and leash.

I saw opportunity.

About 20 minutes later, I was picking Jeff up. Now Jeff, at the time, was ragingly single, and I had an idea I needed him to instigate. Amie had already set her boundaries with me, but with him in a seemingly innocent act… By this time he hadn’t met Amie, so it was clearly contingent on whether he’d be game for what I had in mind.

“Jeff,” I said when he got in the car, “Remember Amie, the gorgeous blonde I told you about who works at UHaul with me?”

“You only talk about her every time we go out,” he said, smirking.

Perhaps I was a bit more obsessed with her than I thought I was. I blew it off though.

“She’s coming with us, wants to get hammered. Would you be up for a threesome with her at that sex club I told ya about?,” I said.

He smiled a devilish grin to me. “What do you have in mind?”

“First we go to a cheap bar that’s decidedly not happening to get us all a little drunk. Then from there, when we’re trying to find a place to go, why don’t you just casually mention in your own goofy way something like ‘Why don’t we go to Club Chameleon?’,” I said.

He smiled.

I’d expected him to say something along the lines of ‘let me see if she’s all that’.

But he just didn’t seem to care.

So first, after picking up Amie, Jeff was besides himself enthusiastic about the situation – as obviously – she’s a very very attractive woman. So we went to a place called Denim And Diamonds which was at the time a somewhat happening spot but at the hour we arrived – about 7pm, there was no one there. We had this massive facility nearly to ourselves, but the drinks were cheap so we ran with it.

Now Denim and Diamonds doesn’t start happening until 10:30. I knew this. Jeff knew this. But Amie didnt.

So Jeff instigated it at about 9pm by saying “This place is dead, let’s go somewhere else”

Amie and I agreed, as we got in my red Toyota Pickup truck and started heading towards the freeway as we were openly pondering where to go next.

Jeff smiles, leans over and says “Bri, isn’t that wild club you talked about a couple weeks ago – Club Chameleon around here?”

I put on my best act and acted nervous and somewhat antagonized.

“Jeff. Cmon dude,” I said.

He smiled again “I’m just sayin…”

Something sparked inside Amie. “HEY, isn’t that the sex club? I want to go! Let’s go!”

“My God,” I thought, “this response was totally unexpected.”

I pushed it, “Well, you can’t go in there just to observe. You have to participate. So you’re going to have to have sex with both of us if we all go there.”

It was like I’d died and gone to heaven.

Without batting an eye, she responded “I’m fine with that. Let’s go!”

I needed the act to seem real and needed to add in the final component though.

I opened up my glove compartment, picked up my cell phone which I had had a habit of keeping it safely stored in my car while drinking, and called Club Chameleon, asking for directions.

I’d only been the one time before, and since the club was in an unusual location tucked away in an industrial park I’d never gone to, it would be exceedingly easy to confuse the streets.

As I got the directions and the phone call disconnected, I acted like the phone call was still going…..

“Oh,” I added, “It’s theme night? What’s that mean? Uh huh. Ok. Uh huh.”

I got done on the phone, and hung it up, by then I’d been pulled over in a well lit parking lot knowing I’d have to turn around.

“It’s theme night. Amie, you’ll love this – BDSM. But none of us are prepared,” I said as I threw the phone in the glove compartment which hit the dog collar jingling it obviously.

Amie looked down at the dog collar.

Now I never, in a million years, thought she would be the one presenting the idea, but here it came…

“The collar!,” she reached to the glove compartment pulling it out, “I’ll wear that.”

Jeff, surprisingly, was just quiet.

It was so unlike Jeff.

I said. “That’s not enough. The parking lot’s private. How about you walk in front of us, and leave all your clothes in the truck?”

She smiled, it was that sexy flirtatious smile I adored that made me wish I had had a part of her and that.

“Sounds good. Let’s do it.”

It was all falling in place too perfectly and we all seemed to be enjoying it.

About 10 minutes later, we drove past the tiki lamps which were lit marking the entrance to the parking lot, which was clearly obstructed from passers by and the road. As we got out of the car, Amie was clearly feeling nervous about things.

“Maybe we should try to go in first,” she said.

I took the collar and gently placed it around her neck, and whispered lightly with my lips against her ear “I need you to trust me on this one. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

The excitement she had was palpable, and almost like a robot on command, she first took off her shoes, her sundress was next to come off, and her black panties and white bra were next.

She was completely nude, a completely natural nude as I learned sporting my favorite – a manicured lawn and beautifully crafted landing strip, with beautifully crafted size D breasts as the collar fit perfectly around her neck as I held it and she walked in front of us to the entrance to the club, in which there was no obvious markings or indication of there actually being a theme night.

I was hoping she wouldn’t notice.

But we were there – she completely naked and we all were committed.

Club Chameleon – back then was a single story building with a main area and dance floor to it, and several other rooms to it. It was definitely a little on the seedy side. And while it was very expensive getting in – $30 cover a person, this cover charge in part served to exclude the vagrants more than it did because of costs.

Amie walked in on the dog leash, and at first she tried to continue walking in front of us, but as we walked into the main area – where there were about 40 people had already gather, I could feel her excitement as she tucked herself between Jeff and I

The rest of the night is a little foggy. Amie tried dancing by herself, nude on the dance floor (there were others who were dancing disrobed as well) – and while it was couples night – our threesome was considered a couple – Amie kept being approached by couples trying to join our trio so she returned.

She wasn’t interested.

We weren’t interested.

But as Amie lured us to the dance floor. Jeff and I tossed our clothes to the side. And next to the dance floor is a pedestal that’s intended for dancing, but the perfect height to place a girl on and have a threesome, right there.

That’s the beauty of swinger’s clubs and sex clubs.

Anytime, anywhere, and while there’s a general no touching rules based on consent, and rooms where groping and swapping is specifically encouraged and expected, altogether it’s pretty much anything within good taste was acceptable.

We spent about three hours there. Jeff and I had our way with Am ie for about an hour and a half.

When we left, as Amie was getting dressed next to my truck, she said “There was no theme night, was there?”

She wasn’t upset or didn’t seem in the slightest bit angry at the deception. She’d known I’d paid attention to her on the various occasions we went to lunch, and I had figured this approach would be something both her and I enjoyed and I was absolutely right.

A few months later, I quite U-Haul, and while nothing ever happened again between Amie and I, she tried to convince her man – Dax – to go to the club with my girlfriend, Lisa, and I, to which he became suspiciously insecure. Lisa, who was concerned about Amie and I’s relationship anyways had actually suggested it, strangely enough, I suspect in part because she could control the situation.

It never happened. And Amie and I lost contact not long after that.

About 5 years ago, I received a message from Amie who was now living in San Diego.

“I just drove by a place that put a smile on my face and reminded me of you. I hope you’re doing well,” she said.

I suppose it’s people and places like this that make it difficult for me to move forward in my life. I’ve had so many weird, random, and unexpected occurrences such as these that I’m not willing nor ready to move on from. Moreso. I’m not done with experiencing them.


That’s why time travel is so stinking important to me.

Not because I’m interested in changing history or altering the world around me.

It’s just because I want to relive many of the wonderful experiences that made me appreciate life to begin with.

I will never forget Amie, doggystyle on the dance floor with me entering her from behind and Jeff in front.

What’s weird is I remember it ‘from a side view’.

Like a camera filming us.

Something like that just doesn’t get erased from memory too easily, does it?

On a final note.


I was in a conversation with someone the other day as we discussed the weird emotional immaturity of so many shows which otherwise had such magnificent potential that was utterly wasted.

Take Supergirl for instance.

Adorable girl. But what they’ve done is taken Superman. Shaped her like a flat chested blonde haired woman who if she had more personality, style, and sex drive would be far more interesting.

But instead what they did was place this dimwitted, narrow minded and shallow woman who does nothing but fight all the time in this show. There’s no real ‘story’. There’s a bad guy. She seems to think that beating the shit out of the bad guys is her only job

Then there’s the real juvenile relationships that make me wonder – who wrote this?

A 13 year old?

I’ve watched television and movies for my entire life.

While I  would absolutely consider myself sexually adventurous and sometimes a little perverse, I wouldn’t refer to it as deviant behavior given the variety of both real life and internet examples I’ve had to compare myself with.

Which has me a tad perplexed and no longer questioning myself when it comes to relational issues.

It IS the world around me that’s a bit wonky.

Case in point. Supergirl. Sex is never even remotely broached as a subject, and love and attraction are treated like something I encountered in my pre-pubescent years back when I was literally 10 to 12 years old.

When Hollywood ‘Steps it up’ – and actually broaches subjects that might be found on the internet.

Ie: “Sex Tape”. Which I havent watched.

AS not only does it have that same ole 12 year old tone to it, but it also has that “we just found the internet and we consider this to be recent” feel to it.

It’s not just about sex though, it’s more than that with Supergirl.

And revolves around the fighting.

To me. To me. I would imagine a woman of Supergirl’s reputation, prominence, physical skills and assets would serve more to a society than yet another mortal combat foe. To me, a woman is – in part – more a sexual and sensual creature than a man.  I’m fine with gender roles and distinctions, and think it’s the show writer’s AND producer’s responsibilities to creatively develop content for this show which doesn’t just put a woman in Superman’s shoes. But puts the female spin on those abilities.

But what do we get?

An underdeveloped comic book clone of masculine character.

Who acts more like a 13 year old sexually.

With no real self-assuredness unless it’s ass kicking.

And in the end. We. I. Get a weak story about a week character by people who clearly don’t understand women.

Now your rebuttal might be something like “Oh, and they want something more like what Amie wants?”

To which my response would be.

“You betcha”

These creatures we refer to as women are far less timid as we males would have once liked to believe.

In any case.

Please. Hollywood. Give me a reason to watch Supergirl. She’s attractive. She can be smart. But she’s taking the dimwitted thing too far and at the same time she should be gaining confidence and losing this passion for kicking the balls in on the bad guys…

Maybe it’s time she. We.

Let the police and firemen do their jobs.

And we create new stories by embracing our emotions.

Supergirl. One day. I’d like to lead you by that collar, completely nude, into a club like that.

Where everyone knows who you – and we are.

Talk about fantasies. Taking a bad ass female character who’s invincible on a dog collar to a swinger’s club.

Fun fun.

Certainly not the goody two shoes female we see on tv, right?

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