A Change Of Scenery – Part 5


Pahana sat back allowed himself to relax for a few minutes. The last few weeks had been a blur of working all night and the teaching sessions with this Spirit Teacher. The only thing that had changed is that he hadn’t returned to the Daily Drip since his encounter with Seamus.

He hadn’t been himself at work either. As a go-go dancer in a shower enclosure that misted him with warm water, the customers couldn’t touch him. They could easily watch him put on a show with the stripper pole and tip him for his antics. Throughout the last week, he’d just not been feeling the music the same way and he found himself searching the crowd for Seamus.

Looking over at the clock on the wall, he saw it wasn’t even 5am yet. Too early to go to bed and still too early to head over to the Daily Drip. Other than a late dinner, Pahana thought so himself, is there a point to going? He got up and settled himself in front of his altar.

Sitting back in his chair, he found himself thinking of Seamus again. Seamus was no longer a random thought but had become an obsession. He had replayed the brush of his hand across his knee over and over in his head and each time, he got the same warm rush from it. But what was the rush was the question that kept replaying in his head. Was it spiritual energy from Seamus as a fellow spirit talker? Was it something more? As Pahana thought about it once again, he though about the rush and thought to himself, It’s like I was turned on by his touch!” Panic overtook him for a few minutes as the thought of being turned on by a guy went through his mind. I’m not gay. I don’t like guys like that. I don’t like guys. Though he is attractive…NO! I’m not attracted to him!

He forced himself to sit down in front of his altar, Perhaps the Sage will have some advice. He lit some sage and cleansed the area around his altar and asked for the spirits to answer his call. He could feel a warmth spread up his body as if the floor was suddenly being heated. He looked up from the altar itself and could see long red tendrils that looked like hair floating in the air. He realized at that moment that he did need to talk to Seamus but he didn’t know why.

He got up and got dressed for an early ride across town. Taking off along the city streets, he avoided the trail system as it was still too early and the trails were dark. The lack of traffic on the streets made it easy to make good time across town. Rolling across the river on the 9th St Bridge, he realized he’d make it to the Drip about an hour before they opened. Since it was a warm night, he decided to ride down to South Pine Avenue. As Halloween approached, life would soon get rough for those still working the street and the weather would become a bigger concern that the police. As he rode, he didn’t see anyone that he recognized but he did see that two of the bigger buildings that had been squats were not construction sites.

Turning back north, he stepped into it and made good time getting away from Pine Avenue as if just being on the street would pull him back into it. He was doing well enough on his own. He kept a small studio apartment with enough space for a small living area and dedicated altar space. As he though about the changes that had happened over the summer, he found himself riding up to the Daily Drip just as Kasey opened the doors.

“Hey stranger! Where have you been hiding out Pahana? We’ve missed you and started to get worried.” she said as she pulled him in.

“Been busy with work and all that.” Pahana said dismissively.

“Still working as a stripper?” she asked with a glint in her eye.

“Yeah, pays pretty well too. Best part of it is that they look but they can’t touch.” he said with a mischievous smile.

Kasey was about to say something more then the door opened with a bang. Kasey and Pahana both turned at the same time to see Seamus walking in.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t realize the wind would catch it.” Seamus said with a sheepish smile.

Kasey laughed, “It’s okay Symon. What do you want this morning? I know what Pahana will have.”

Pahana and Symon both stopped and looked at each other but didn’t say anything.

“I’ll just have a coffee, two creams and a english muffin for now.” Symon said with a smile as he turned to Pahana, “So, Pahana, shall we sit and talk.” while thinking to himself. “You know something? You frighten me.”

“Yes, we should Symon.” Pahana said flatly. So much for keeping to Jaysin.

As Kacey went back into the kitchen, they took up residence in the farthest and most isolated booth they could find.

“Pahana is it? You told me you were Jaysin.”

“And you said Seamus not Symon.”

“Yes, yes I did. Seamus is my name when I’m doing spiritual work. My real name is Symon.”

“Jaysin is the name that my adopted family gave me.”

With the formalities of the names out of the way, they settled into a guarded but amiable small talk about Cloverdale and about their own beliefs. Before long, their breakfast had arrived and sat mostly untouched.

Lost in their conversation, the world around them continued but they were oblivous to it. The morning rush came and went. A few yawns showed that it was getting late for Pahana but yet, they kept talking and just as the morning rush had came in, so did the lunch rush.

It was almost 2pm when Kasey finally broke into their conversation.

“You guys do realize you’ve been sitting here for almost nine hours now. Get out of here!” she said with a knowing smile. There are better places to be having this conversation anyway.

Pahana and Symon looked at each other, “I guess we should leave then.” they said in unison then laughed.

They settled their tabs and walked out towards the bike racks.

Pahana unlocked his bike and turned to Symon, “You still want to talk more or should we save this for another morning?”

“I’d love to keep talking. What do you have in mind?”

“How about my place? It’s small but it’s quiet.”

Symon forced a smile, “Sounds good to me.” but in his head, he was worried about what Pahana might do.

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A Change Of Scenery – Part 4


Pahana dried off after his shower, got dressed including the Sage’s necklace, and set out for the day. It was still early, the morning sun was up but there were still long shadows and dark corners. It was a crisp fall morning and all he wanted was a cup of coffee and a bagel.

Cloverdale was still sleeping it seemed. Traffic was light as he weaved across town on the network of trails and by-ways that criss-crossed Cloverdale. Many times, it was faster to bike or rollerblade across town than it was to drive. It would be another twenty minutes before he would get to the Daily Drip. He pedaled a slow steady pace until he reached the long bridge over the Clover River.

The river itself was broad and kept deep enough for barge traffic but it wasn’t a major river by any measure. Two small islands made it easier for the city crew to build a bridge across the river to accommodate the swell of commuters on foot and bike in the last decade. Two spans made up the river crossing. One a steady downhill slope from the west side of the river down to the first island brought traffic off the bluffs and down into East Cloverdale. The other was a more involved structure that slowly stepped up from east and rose until it crossed the river at the same level as the other bridge. The second bridge had quickly become necessary after a number of bike-pedestrian accidents.

By the end of the first decade, the bridges passed as much traffic as the interstate bridge just a half mile up the river and almost double the traffic of the two city streets that crossed within a mile down river.

Pahana took it all in as he shifted gears and began the slow grueling climb up the bridge to get into Cloverdale proper. I’m only ten minutes from the Daily Drip. Shifting gears, he stood up and started the more vigorous climb up ‘The Stairs’ as locals called the bridge. He made the climb and stopped mid-river. As he watched the water flowing under him, he felt a connection with the river. He could feel the subtle thrum of the flow. At first, he thought it was the bridge itself vibrating, but the water in his bottle was still and no one else on the bridge was looking around. But as he focused on the water’s energy, he could hear it more clearly. Turning his focus to the wind blowing around him and could hear its song whispered in his ears. He smiled to himself and gave quiet thanks to the water below and the air around him. He set off for the Daily Drip.

As he wheeled up and locked up his bike, he noticed that the morning crowd seemed lighter this morning. He didn’t mind as he liked it quieter in the morning. He ordered his bagel sandwich and coffee and looked around the shop as he waited. It was the usual Tuesday morning crowd just without their cars and bikes it seemed.

Pahana found his usual table open and slipped his backpack off and sat it down on the bench beside him. He pulled out a notebook and pen and wrote down today’s observations and things that he had learned from the Sage the previous night. He munched on his sandwich and slowly drank his coffee, writing down the details of the Sage’s lessons from the night before while adding his own notes and observations. It had been a long six weeks since the Sage had visited him. It had been an even longer three months since he’d last worked on this side of the river, working Pine Avenue for tricks.

As he sat writing, he started getting the feeling he was being watched. He looked up and didn’t see anything unusual but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was staring at him. It wasn’t until the third time that he looked up that he saw that there was a gentleman staring at him from across the shop.

He didn’t seem like much as Pahana looked at him. Maybe 5’9” and 120lbs, lithe, with long flowing red hair and sapphire blue eyes that seemed to look into you as much as they looked at you. He made eye contact and he felt those eyes drill into him as the man got up and started walking towards him. The man set his coffee down on the table and slid into the booth.

“Do you always wear your mask in public?” the man said as he settled in to the booth.

“What do you mean?” Pahana asked confused.

“You are wearing a tribal mask marking you as a Shaman-Seer-Sage. It is uncommon to see someone in public wearing their markings.”

“Uhm, I’m not wearing a mask.” he said as he instinctively reached up to feel his face. Nope, nothing on my face. What is this guy talking about?

“You don’t even realize you are wearing it do you? You must have recently been enlightened to your gifts then. Most of us go to great lengths to hide our true nature. Too many people like to cause us too much trouble.” he said with a welcoming smile. “I’m Seamus. I’m a Celtic Shaman. I will hazard a guess that you are AmerIndian.”

“I am. My name is Jaysin.” Pahana didn’t miss a beat reverting to Jaysin. It felt safer. “I know I am Native but I don’t know who my people are or where I am from. I was adopted as a baby.”

“Ah.” Seamus paused for a moment, “Jaysin you said, that would explain your late arrival into your gifts and your calling from the Spirits. Are you a two spirit as well?”

“A what?” he said as he felt Seamus’ hand brush his knee and felt his face turn as red as Seamus’ hair. “I…uh…should get going.” And with that, Pahana was out the door and unlocking his bike before anyone realized he was gone.

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A Change Of Scenery – Part 3


Everything was going well except for his altar. After his epiphany almost six weeks ago, he hadn’t not turned a trick or even had sex. It was as if sex no longer interested him at all. He stood up and looked at his altar, the stones were losing their luster and the formerly glowing lines of energy he had shot across it had faded and were slowly become one with the dust settling over it. He hadn’t thought about that day or even his altar since then. But in the last few days, it had started creeping into his thoughts more and more. An incessant nagging in the back of his mind. He looked over his altar again. It looked right but it didn’t feel right. Something was out of place or energies were mis-aligned. He wondered out loud how he knew this, but he was afraid of the answer.

He quickly got up and stripped naked to get cleaned up before bed. He glanced in the mirror to admire his body as he walked by, but what he saw startled him. There were multiple images of himself. There was the faded image of a streetwalker punk known as Jaysin in the far background, there was the ‘real’ him that was in the foreground next to an older version of himself in full ancestral Hopi attire. To the side, were two more versions of his contemporary self. One was dressed much as he would dress and seemed to be well off, but the other, the other was in much worse shape having been beaten and seemingly tossed aside by the world.

Pahana studied them and realized that although he was naked, none of the people he could see in the mirror were naked rather they were all fully dressed. As he thought about this, he looked away from the mirror and turned his gaze to the altar. All the stones on his altar, everything on it actually, had turned to face the mirror. He looked back at the mirror and saw that the four versions of himself had all stepped out of the mirror. As he stumbled backwards, the four took full form and were standing there as clearly as anyone would.

He looked at Jaysin. “Why are you here Jaysin? You were just a shell to protect myself. You are dead and gone.” As he said this, Jaysin faded away and within a few seconds was gone.

Turning to the two contemporary versions of himself, he looked at the beaten man who wouldn’t raise his eyes to meet his. “You are what I could have been and might have become if I had listened to temptation on the street. Beaten and broken, just another lost soul on the streets. I am not you and you are not me. I had seen you before I turned to the streets and so avoided being broken. Your guidance has been great and I am grateful for it.” and with that, the broken man faded away.

Smiling, he addressed the current version of himself standing in front of him. “You are me. I am you. Yet, we are not each other. You are what I will be and who I want to be. My future, just as the older wiser version of myself is where I came from and my history. I would ask that you stay, but you can not teach me how to be my future, I must experience it and bring myself to be a better man. Thank you for your guidance and may your return be blessed.”

Strangely, his ‘future’ self did not disappear. He turned to the Sage who was closest to the mirror.

Nervously, he started to greet the Sage in English, but what came out of his mouth was a greeting in Hopi, “Haw, um pitu.”Hi, you’ve come.

The Sage turned to his future self and with a wave of his gnarled hand, dismissed him back to the Spirit Realm. With his other hand, a motion for Pahana to sit.

Several hours passed as Pahana’s memories were awakened. The Sage was not his father or his father’s father. The Sage was his father, seven generations past. They spoke slowly at first, Pahana’s Hopi nearly lost due to lack of use. Before long, Pahana was speaking fluently. He had not been aware that he was raised speaking Hopi as his mother tongue but the Sage before him and awoken it. They discussed his altar and why certain stones were placed where they were. Now, as he arranged his altar, Pahana felt the power in each of the pieces he had arranged.

Though it was getting late in the year, sunrise still came early and he realized that the color of his windows was turning from black to blue to red as sunrise approached. The Sage turned to him and bid him farewell, assuring him that he would visit often and that Pahana would be able to visit him soon as well.

The Sage sat down on the floor and motioned for Pahana to join him. As he started to sit down, the Sage motioned for Pahana to lay down on the floor. As he laid down and his head rested on the floor, he was asleep.

When he awoke, it was late afternoon. The sun streaming through the windows of his apartment shone across his altar and turned the room into a kaleidoscope. As he looked at the altar, he saw that it had been rearranged. He didn’t remember reworking his altar. Scratching his head and then his balls, he remembered that he had been going to take a shower before he fell asleep. As he turned to go to the bathroom, he saw the Sage’s necklace hanging on the corner of the full length mirror.

It hadn’t been a dream. They were here. As he turned into the bathroom, he saw himself in the mirror. He was still naked, but there was the body paint of the Shaman-Seer-Sage on him.

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A Change Of Scenery # 2


Jaysin woke up and stared at the ceiling. He’d had no luck the night before and had spent more on drinks and bar covers than he planned. Looking around his studio apartment and over at his altar, he felt a sudden rush of energy, Within a half hour, the studio apartment was spotless. The energy wouldn’t let go of him, he could feel it coursing through him as if he was drunk from it.

The altar was bothering him. He looked at it and couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it. He rearranged it over and over but couldn’t figure it out. It had gone from being bothersome to becoming an obsession.

“Pahana Davidson!” he exclaimed out loud, startling himself. He rarely used his real name except when he had to use it or if he was upset with himself.

Sitting down cross-legged in front of his altar, he focused on stopping the non-stop train of thoughts going through his mind. Now was not the time to be worried about money, sex, or anything else. He felt a warmth spread across him and at the same time, his sense of smell seem to be heightened. He could smell the bar from last night, the smell of days old sex (was that .. oh yeah, Sherri’s long lean body flashed into his mind). ‘Not now’ he though to himself. There was another smell of sex in the room. He couldn’t place who it belonged to but he was arousing him. He lowered his head and looked down at the floor.

The smell was more intense as he lowered his head. He bent his head down as far as he could and realized that it was the smell of his own body and his pheromones that was arousing him. Standing up and he took off his tattered boxers and held them up to his face, the first whiff hitting him like a jolt. Suddenly, fully aroused, he needed release.

He looked down at his body and smelled his boxers again. The slow throb of his now rock hard cock fascinated him. He found his mind wandering again and the thoughts didn’t quite make sense. They were less thoughts and more flashes of vision. One recurring image was of the Ouroboros. He thought about this again, then looked down at his ‘trouser snake’ and he understood.

Slowly bending himself together, at first, he was only able to get a few inches from his glans. As he stretched and focused his thoughts on to what he was doing, it was as if he gained a limberness to bend further and it was like his cock had grown two more inches in length and looked thicker than he could remember.

He focused harder on the goal and then it happened. As his glans slipped between his lips, Pahana felt a rush of energy, hormones, and exhilaration. He started to slowly suck his own cock, relishing the feel of it in his mouth. After the initial first few minutes, he slowed down and started nursing his cock. Like a baby with a bottle, he slowly sucked and lightly bit at it. As he sucked harder and took his own cock deeper, he felt the slow insistent rise of an orgasm building in his balls.

He kept up the slow steady rhythm he’d developed, relishing the intensifying power rising up within himself, knowing that he and only he would control this orgasm. Unaware of anything around him, Pahana was engrossed into a primal ritual. A ritual known for dozens, if not hundreds, of generations of his ancestors.

The sudden oozing of precum in his mouth caught him off-guard but he found himself wanting more. He was high on his own energy and his body. The long lean lines of his Native American body finally getting ready to give up their secrets.

Pahana was so engrossed in himself that he lost track of his orgasm, so when he started shooting cum, he was unprepared. The first shot caused him to gag slightly but the taste of it..’Oh my Gods! This is the nectar of the Gods! Why have I been wasting it?” he exclaimed in his own head as he felt his mouth filling with his own seed.

Unable to swallow it in the position he was in but his mouth was rapidly filling. ‘I have to stop.’ Pahana told himself. As he pulled his mouth away, as if by some outside force, the ejaculation stopped. He stood up and swirled his life force in his mouth. Walking over and standing in front of his altar, he gave silent thanks to the Creator and swallowed his cum. As he did, a second orgasm struck him, launching ropes of life all over his altar. The streaks were nearly perfect aligned in a fanlike pattern across the surface of the altar.

He looked at the altar and saw that crystals that he simply thought were pretty were suddenly glowing and two of the stone spheres were actively moving on the table. Watching in disbelief, he hadn’t noticed that the two spheres of labradorite that were on the back corners of his altar had turned and their luminescent faces faced him.

Pahana felt the power of the Gods sweep over him and as he fell to his knees to give thanks, the two labradorite spheres caught the first rays of sun to sweep into the room and momentarily blinded him as he started giving thanks to the Creator for what he had learned. As he did, there was a flash of clarity in his mind. An epiphany.

In a strong proud voice he stated, ‘I am the Ouroboros. I am life and death. I can see the unseen. I am Pahana Davidson. I will not hide behind Jaysin any longer. I pledge my body and my life to the Creator and doing what I can in the Creator’s name.”

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A Change Of Scenery #1


Jaysin 18, was a tall lanky kid, standing 6’ 5” and weighing about 170lbs and stronger than he looked. Pale skin, dark hair and dark brown, almost black, eyes gave Mike an exotic look which combined with his tall mohawk and goatee, got him a wide berth when he walked down the street. If you put a soccer jersey on him, he would have passed for a typical English hooligan. While it was the end of summer, Mike was wearing a t-shirt with a flannel shirt over it and worn blue jeans. People gave him a wide berth on the street but for some reason, married women found him irresistible and paid well for his services.

As the summer had passed, business had started to slow down markedly. A big feature story on one of the local TV stations about the traffic on South Pine in Cloverdale had slowed traffic a lot and then the local newspaper started printing the names and pictures of both the hookers and the johns. After that, Jaysin’s income has fallen off dramatically.

Jaysin had been on the streets for a couple of years and had seen too many beautiful people flame out too soon. He was still doing well compared to most of the people he knew on the streets with him. Most of them either snorting or smoking their income. Lives lost to low-quality drugs got from their pimp or robbing from their clients. Many of them had been found in abandoned squats surrounded by drug paraphernalia and a few murdered in deals gone wrong. The rent on his small apartment was paid for the summer but things weren’t looking so good for the fall. He needed to get a lot more business if he was going to pay for his place and the rest of his bills.

Standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror, he finished styling up his mohawk and thought about what the next color should be when he found himself looking at the clock. It was almost 8pm. “I gotta get out there soon if I’m gonna get some prime pie.”

Jaysin put on his tightest fitting pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt with a sleeveless flannel shirt over it. He laced up his knee high leather boots and looked at himself. “You look like a punk ready to stomp in some faggot’s head. Hell yeah!” he thought to himself as he turned off the light.

A lazy ten minute walk and he was turning on to South Pine Avenue. Traffic looked a bit busier than it had for a few weeks which gave him hope. He took up one of his usual spots. There was retaining wall on that corner that he’d sit on hanging his legs off. It was a busy intersection and he had plenty of visibility down both streets. There was plenty of traffic but no one was shopping it seemed. He jumped down off the wall and started heading farther north on Pine, into the heart of the city and deeper into one of the seedier parts of town.

Bartonville had been named after Jefferson W Barton at the turn of the 19th Century. Recently, it was more commonly known as Barterville as you could get almost anything on trade. Poverty was endemic along with drugs and crime. City and metro leaders had tried many times to break the cycle of poverty in Bartonville to no avail.

Jaysin was an imposing figure and didn’t draw much attention and he headed deep into Barterville. He knew of a couple of bars that were good business. They didn’t pay well but there was always a steady stream of housewives looking for a fuck on the wild side. Thanks to medical science and unscrupulous doctors, he had a steady stream of pills that could keep him going all night and enough condoms to fill a filing cabinet.

He looked over at the Drunken Wench and could hear the noise out on the street. Even though it was a weeknight, there would be a fight pouring out into the street soon. He looked over at the Black Dragon. He smiled as he thought of the MILFs that populated the place. He kept walking but noticed a new place one on of the side streets.

“The Painted Gnome” said the sign. He’d never heard of it but how bad could it be. He paused for a moment taking in the neighborhood and rethinking just how bad it could be.

He grumbled as he paid the cover and strode into the bar. He made his way over to the bar and ordered a shot of Loomin Whisky. It took a bit for his eyes to adjust and take it all in and it seemed like a decent place in a bad part of town.

He found a high top table in the corner and slouched back to show off his cock and balls, making it obvious that he was available. After a half hour or so, he realized that something wasn’t right about this place but hadn’t quite put a finger on it.

He got another shot of Loomin and walked over by the pool tables. As he did, it struck him like a thunderclap.

“I’m in a gay bar!” he thought just as a large rough hand reached out and grabbed his crotch. He pulled back and looked over at the guy who had just groped him.

“The Dude” as Jaysin had already branded him looked to be in his early 40s, well built, and clean cut. “Likely married to one of the bitches who pay me for a real man’s cock in ‘em” Jaysin thought and he sneered at The Dude.

Dude pulled out a wad of cash, “I’ve got $300 that says I can suck you off then you’ll fuck me senseless.”

Jaysin paused for a moment thinking about the implications of it all. I’m not into dudes but $300 is a lot of money for a trick.

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