The Leaf

By wiki published December 25, 2012
Summary

A brother is changed by a magic leaf and ends up changing his brother too.

  1. The package

“A package came for you today, Kevin” Charles said to his brother as he shuffled home from another long day of work.

Twenty-five year old Kevin Ford had just returned home from a day at the bank where he worked as a manager. Charles, his nineteen year old brother was a college freshmen, just starting out. Kevin and Charles’ parents had tragically passed away a few short years before, and Kevin had taken it upon himself to take care of his younger brother, dropping out of his second year of university to help make ends meet and allow Charles to finish his education like a normal kid.

You would likely guess that the two were brothers from a simple glance. At twenty-five Kevin was a rather average specimen. Hanging around six foot one with a mop of shaggy brown hair (tamed into submission with a comb and half a tube of gel on working days). His brown eyes and average looking face sat upon a body that was clearly once very well cared for; however, the past few years of worrying about bills, bank affairs and the welfare of his younger brother, had left him with a slight belly which just poked out over the rim of his dress pants.

To put it simply, Charles looked like a younger, thinner version of his brother. Brown eyes, a mop of unruly brown hair ; however, unlike his brother his body was in excellent shape, complete with a pair of reasonably defined pecs and a nice solid six pack.

“A package?” Kevin replied? “Oh, it must be that stuff the lawyer called about, part of our inheritance from Great Aunt Susan.”

Kevin had never met his great-aunt and had quite forgotten about her until the attorney had called the week before. When Susan passed away at age one hundred, she had no relatives left except Kevin and Charles.

The lawyer had worked for two months to locate Kevin. Once all the fees and taxes were paid, he’d said on the phone, Kevin would receive a check for more than $100,000. In the meantime, he had sent the package containing “personal items and miscellany.”

“Open it, Charles,” Kevin said as he sat down in a somewhat over stuffed looking armchair which served as his “throne” after a day of hard work. Charles fetched a pair of scissors and cut away the wrapping. There was a small cardboard box, heavily taped. An envelope was attached to the top; Charles handed this to Kevin. He opened it while Charles started cutting the tape.

“This is from the lawyer, confirming what he told me before about the money. Well, Charles, it looks like you wont have to worry about helping out as much after all, this cheque will really help tide us over for a good while.”

“Are you sure, bro?” said Charles, who had the box open now.

“Yeah, I’ve been taking care of you since mom and dad, I took this job so you could have a normal life, I don’t see why I should stop now,” he said, in an almost flat tone. It wasn’t as if he hated things the way they were now, he just wished that things could be easier some days, a little less stressful for him anyway. “So, what’s in the box, anyway? The lawyer didn’t mention anything specific.”

“Not much,” Charles said. The contents were disappointing. There was nothing particularly “personal,” no photographs or letters. There was a pair of large candle holders; some of the brass coating had worn off, exposing grey metal underneath. There was a short chain which looked like a necklace. There was an old fountain pen which had seen plenty of use. There was a piece of metal, about three inches long, cast in the shape of a leaf. It was heavily tarnished.

“It all looks like junk to me,” Kevin said.

Charles studied the leaf. “I wonder what this is made out of,” he said. “It’s soft enough to be gold. I’d have to clean it up to find out.”

“I doubt that it’s worth anything, Charles. The lawyers had everything appraised, and the valuable stuff was all sold off at an auction.”

“Yeah, probably. Maybe I’ll get the gunk off it anyway, just to see,” Charles said.

“You can do it after dinner. What did you make for us tonight?”

  1. The Leaf

When Charles had finished doing the dinner dishes, he placed a glass bowl in the sink and poured in some liquid tarnish remover. He dunked the leaf. Tarnish started to come away in clumps. Since he didn’t want to damage the thing, he resisted the temptation to rub it. Instead, he just shook the bowl until all the brown flecks had come off. He poured the liquid down the sink and rinsed the leaf under running water. He dried it, then went to join his brother in the den.

“Well, it’s just pewter or something, not gold,” he said.

“Wow, you did a good job cleaning it,” Kevin replied. “You can even see the little veins on it.”

“It was probably hand-made,” Charles said. “There’s a lot of detail. Look, there’s writing on the back.” Charles pointed to a thin line of tiny embossed lettering down the center.

“I can’t make it out,” said Kevin.

“I can’t either. I’ll set up my old microscope. Maybe we’ll be able to read it then,” Charles volunteered. He went up to his room and rummaged through the closet. He found the wooden case containing the microscope. He took it downstairs and set things up on the kitchen table.

He switched on the microscope light and positioned the leaf under the lens.

“Can you read it now?” Kevin asked.

“Here, take a look,” he answered. Kevin moved to the eyepiece. The writing, though nearly all worn, was clear. It said, “Clasp me tight and make a wish.”

“It must be a good-luck charm,” said Kevin.

“Go ahead, make a wish,” Charles instructed.

“Okay.” Charles handed Kevin the leaf; he held it firmly in his right hand.

“I wish I was vice-president of the bank where I work,” he intoned into the air.

“Gee, bro, I thought you were in line for that job anyway. You know you can do it.” Charles said.

“Not any more” Kevin said “They gave it to Jack Bedford today.”

“Not that jerk? You’re way smarter than he is,” Charles said.

“I know man. But they’re not going to make anybody as young as me a vice-president, even if I’ve been there since I graduated and know the place inside-out,” he replied.

“Are you still thinking complaining up to head office?” he asked.

“Oh, who has the time or energy for that stuff? But I’ll tell you something. Five vice-presidents at the bank and still not one under thirty five among them. It’s pure discrimination. Maybe one of the other guys will get mad enough to make a formal complaint. I don’t have a lot of money to support us, and that check from Aunt Susan isn’t going to last very long with your college bills. I can’t afford to risk my job, even though I’m right about this, and they’re wrong.”

They had been through all this before, and Charles felt bad that his brother had failed, again, to get promoted. He was just twenty-five years old, and had a lot of his career ahead of him. Perhaps something good would happen in the future.

  1. First Difference

The next day was Saturday. Charles was still on his college schedule, so he didn’t awake until almost ten o’clock. When he woke, he felt disoriented. He was in the bed of the extra room. Most of his belongings, and some of his clothes were on the floor. “Dang!” “Must’ve been drunk last night,” He thought. He threw on a robe and trudged down to the kitchen. A strange man was sitting there.

“Gee, I’m sorry, I didn’t know Kevin had company,” Charles said sheepishly. The man was a muscular, good-looking, Hispanic guy with short, neat black hair and a dense but well trimmed beard, perhaps forty years old. He was wearing running shorts, shoes and an athletic tank top. Charles wondered whether he was one of the neighbors who Kevin had invited in staying over. Perhaps somebody from the bank; he seemed vaguely familiar?

“Hi, Charles,” the man said in a warm bass voice that asserted authority. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Charles hitched up his robe a bit and sat down. The man looked him square in the eye.

“Charles, it’s me, Kevin, your brother,” the man said.

The words made no sense. Who was this guy? What was he talking about?

“Remember the leaf, Charles, and the wish I made last night? It came true. I’m a vice-president now, and I seem to have become Hispanic too.”

Charles was speechless. This wasn’t funny. “Where’s Kevin?” he demanded.

“I’m telling you, it’s me! The leaf must be magic, because my wish came true. Not the way I expected, obviously,” the man said.

“I don’t believe you. This is a joke, right?” replied Charles.

The man leaned back in his chair. “Go ahead, ask me something. Ask me something that only Kevin would know.” the man said.

Charles bit his lip. “Okay, what’s my full name?”

“Charles Anderson Ford,” came the answer.

“When’s my birthday?”

“September fifth.”

“Who lived in apartment 4-E when we lived on Beckman Street?”

“Nobody. It was vacant for the whole year.”

Charles asked a dozen more questions; the man answered all of them correctly. Nobody except someone close could know all those things, could they? Kevin couldn’t have revealed every possible detail about their lives, could he?

“Come with me,” the man instructed. “I want to show you something.”

By now Charles was scared out of his wits. What if this guy had done something to Kevin? He followed the man upstairs to Kevin’s room. Somehow the layout had changed overnight. Every aspect of a Kevin’s existence had been altered. The room seemed brighter and cleaner and the bed was made up instead of being in the state of disarray it usually was. Charles glanced at the closet where his brother had kept his somewhat dated and worn clothes. Where previously, there had been a single suit and a couple of plain shirts, the closet was now filled with smart clothes from designer suits, pants and shirts to dress shoes and a whole rack of expensive looking silk ties.

Charles sat down on the bed. He was feeling weak in the knees. “What the fuck’s going on here?” he asked.

“I already told you, I was your brother Kevin.” the man replied.

“What do you mean ‘was’?” Charles demanded. “You said you were my brother a minute ago.”

Kevin sat down next to Charles and during the next hour, explained the whole story.

Kevin had awakened early and knew something was very wrong. It took him an hour to fully realize what had happened. He had changed from “Kevin Ford” to “Kenneth Ochoa” and was now aged forty two. It took Ken only a few phone calls to confirm that he was indeed the bank vice-president, having mysteriously usurped the very job Bedford had received the day before. Nobody seemed to know Kevin Ford anymore, but everybody knew Ken.

All of Kevin’s belongings had been transformed, too: clothes, bills, driver’s license, legal documents, etc. The old photo of him and Charles when they were younger which had sat on the dresser was gone. Nothing seemed to be left of Kevin except in the memory of Ken and Charles.

After Ken finished speaking, Charles sat in silence for a while pondering the fact that, technically he no longer had a brother.

“What do I call you now?” Charles asked.

“Well, why don’t you just call me ‘Ken,’ okay?”

“All right, ‘Ken’,” said Charles, with difficulty. “You’re going to wish yourself back to the way you were, right?” he asked.

Ken stared out into space. “Sure, Charles,” he said, “but not just yet. This is a big opportunity for me, and I’m curious about a lot of things. Besides, we don’t even know if the leaf will work again.”

Charles was disturbed to hear this. Kevin had been the only person in the world he was close to. The thought of not having him around, even for a little while, made him unhappy. Was it going to be this way forever?

“Why do you think the leaf changed you like this?” Charles asked. “Couldn’t you have been a vice-president as you were before?”

“Well,” said Ken, “I suppose that there simply couldn’t be a young vice-president at the bank, the way attitudes there are now. If I was going to be a vice-president, then I’d have to be an older man”.

  1. Adjustment

Charles spent the weekend trying to accept the new situation, new room, and no brother. He didn’t see Ken much; most of the time, Ken was working at the computer in the den, or on the phone talking in Spanish. Early Monday morning Charles awoke and came downstairs just as Ken was preparing to leave for the office. He saw the man who used to be his brother dressed to kill in a form fitting navy suit with a crisp white shirt and tie. Ken looked every inch a go getting vice-president and it was almost impossible for Charles to believe that this man used to be his brother.

“Okay, punk, I’m off,” said Ken. “Wish me luck on my first day.”

“Good luck, jefe!” Charles said attempting to put on a reassuring smile.

“And Charles, would you mind doing some of the housework today? There’s a pile of laundry in the basement, and the kitchen floor is pretty dirty.”

“I’ll take care of it,” answered Charles.

“Thanks. I guess I won’t have time for that stuff now. See you tonight.” Ken went out the door.

Charles ate breakfast and showered. There were a lot of dirty clothes, so doing laundry took most of the morning. In the afternoon he pulled out a bucket and detergent and began to scrub the kitchen floor.

Charles was on his hands and knees for almost hour, and he began to feel resentful towards Kevin, or, rather, towards Ken. Why should he be able to go off and enjoy his high-status job while he, Charles, had to stay home and clean house? Maybe Ken could afford a maid now? Charles tried to put these thoughts out of his mind, hopeful that things would return to normal soon.

He had dinner ready, as usual, at five-thirty, but Ken did not arrive home until nearly seven.

“Gee, I’m sorry I was late, Charles,” Ken said. “There were so many things to do today. Tomorrow I’ll call you when I know what time I’ll be home. Can you just make me a sandwich or something now?”

Charles made a chicken sandwich for Ken and took it to him in the den, where Ken was once more in front of the computer screen.

“Thanks,” Ken said without looking up.

Charles stood there for a moment. “How was your first day, Ken?” he asked.

“Fine,” said Ken absently. Charles went back to the kitchen and read a magazine.

An hour later, Ken emerged from the den. He sat down at the kitchen table, across from Charles, and proceeded to fill him in on the day’s events.

“It’s amazing, Charles,” Ken said. “Whenever there’s something I need to know, I just seem to know it. It doesn’t matter whether it’s some bit of factual data, or something about Ken’s history, or just something that Ken ought to know. I think about it for a second, and it’s there.”

“Are you saying that Ken, I mean YOU, have a whole life story?” Charles asked.

“Yes, I do, somehow. I still remember being Kevin, but I seem to remember being Ken always, too.”

Charles heard all about Ken’s position at the bank. It was surprising how older men were treated more respectfully, Ken told him. In the business world, the older guys were really the upper-class citizens. “The situation wasn’t so nice when I was Kevin, but it’s great for me now,” Ken said.

Ken didn’t want to talk about changing back, and he didn’t want to talk about the leaf. Charles had looked around the house for it during the day but couldn’t find it. Obviously, Ken was holding on to it.

The next day, Tuesday, proceeded in much the same way. Ken went to work early, and Charles did all the cooking and housekeeping. He was tired already of the grind; that night, he asked Ken about getting a maid. Ken, however, didn’t want any strangers in the house, given the unusual situation. Charles told him he wasn’t doing this forever.

At the bank, Charles was known now as the nephew who lived with Ken since Charles had no other relatives. Charles was not happy about this story.

Wednesday was as boring as Tuesday. That night, Charles decided to have it out with Ken.

“Kevin, I want you to change back! I don’t want to stay home all day doing housework,” Charles insisted.

“What’s wrong with the way things are?” Ken asked. “You have a good situation here. No meetings, no boss to worry about, no pressure. All you have to do is take care of the house. In the fall you go back to school.”

“Ken, I don’t want to be in the role of some damned houseboy,” Charles shot back. “If you’re going to stay this way, then you can afford to hire somebody to cook and clean for you. Why don’t you just do it and I’ll find another place to live!”

“You don’t think that maintaining the house is important, Charles?” Ken asked quietly.

“What? I’m out of here! All of this bullshit is for someone else to handle!” Charles yelled.

Ken took a long time to reply. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

Charles went to his room to pack up and didn’t see Ken again that evening.

  1. Second Difference

Charles didn’t sleep well Wednesday night. He had bad dreams, and he awoke several times feeling hot. Finally, he’d had enough. He looked at the clock; it was six-thirty. It was still dark outside.

As Charles stood up, he could tell that he wasn’t wearing his pajamas. He didn’t remember taking them off during the night, but he must have done so when he felt too warm. He fumbled around the chair near his bed and picked up a robe. He put it on and made his way groggily to the bathroom.

The light in the bathroom was blindingly bright. He couldn’t avoid a glance in the mirror. Something was wrong. Rubbing his eyes, he took a step closer to the mirror, unsure of what he was seeing. He looked… different. His light brown hair turned black. His face was broader. His nose seemed longer and wider. He wasn’t wearing his usual flannel robe; he wore a large flannel shirt.

Charles gasped. He looked down. The hair on his chest and legs was also black, and thicker looking. His waist looked wider. It appeared that he looked older, perhaps in his thirties.

Charles looked more carefully at his face in the mirror. He had always had his mother’s fine bone structure, but now he looked more robust. He felt around his chin and his cheeks; the skin felt a bit thicker with a lot of black stubble, also it looked as though he was trying to start growing a mustache, with the stubble being noticeably longer over his upper lip.

Charles knew what had happened to him, but he didn’t know why. He went downstairs to face Ken.

Ken was reading the newspaper in the kitchen. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said to Charles.

“Ken, what’s happening to me? Why did you do this?” Charles demanded.

“Relax, and sit down,” Ken answered. Charles sat, reluctantly.

Ken smiled at him. “You haven’t been happy with things this week, right? I thought a little change was in order. I need you, Charles, to take care of things around here. Since you weren’t willing to do that as a ‘houseboy’, then perhaps you simply need to be a maintenance man.”

“What do you mean, maintenance man?” Charles asked.

“Just that. A guy who works on the house. My slave, and husband.” Ken said.

“Ken!? …I can’t…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. I used the leaf last night and made a careful, explicitly worded wish. I didn’t want to upset you too much with the change, so I instructed that it would take three days. The physical changes will happen only when you sleep, so you shouldn’t feel anything uncomfortable. Let’s see. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday… when you wake up Saturday you should be all ready.”

Charles didn’t know what to say. He was humiliated and angry, and he was scared, too. Ready, for what? He was going to be Ken’s slave - husband? He would be married to the man who’d used to be his brother? It was outrageous!

Ken stood up and put on his coat. “I’m leaving now. I promise I’ll be home at six-thirty sharp, so work on that patio project you started last year, and don’t sweat this, okay? I’ll pick up dinner. By the way, you’re ‘Octavio’ now.”

Ken charged out the door, leaving Charles sitting there in shock. Octavio, he thought. My name is Octavio now.

  1. Acclimation

Charles went up to his room. None of his things were there. The closet was empty. This is the guest room again? he thought.

He entered Ken’s room, which had changed once again. In one corner there was a high quality weight set. One closet was filled with men’s work clothing. These must be my things, Charles thought. The bed had grown to a king-sized model. There were artsy pictures of muscular men, some in leather on the walls. “No way I’m sleeping here tonight!” Charles said out loud.

Charles took off his open hanging shirt and explored his new body some more. Right now I’m in between, he thought. He was the same height; he was still five foot-ten. His voice hadn’t changed, either. In body outline, though, he looked wider, more muscular with slightly darker skin. His hair was all black.

He left the shirt on the floor in the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. He began going through ‘his’ closet. A black leather harness hung on the doorknob. On the dresser sat a wallet, a hairbrush, etc. Charles opened the wallet. There was some cash and a stack of credit cards. All the cards were made out to “Octavio Ramirez.” Charles found a driver’s license. “Octavio” again. The picture was looked kind of fuzzy, except the man in the picture’s hair was done in a flattop, and he appeared to have a big mustache. He looked at the date of birth. He was gaining sixteen years; Octavio was thirty six, not twenty.

Charles was surprised that he didn’t feel more outraged than he did. Was he beginning to accept his fate already? Perhaps he was simply too tired to stay angry. His stomach made little noises; he realized he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. He should get dressed now, he thought.

He went to the dresser. Ken’s things were in the top two drawers, and Octavio’s were in the bottom three. Halfheartedly, he pulled out a pair of Ken’s jockey shorts and tried them on. There was no way they could be pulled up; his waist was simply too large now. He found a simple white briefs in the bottom drawer. He tried these on. In most respects they fit perfectly, but they were a bit roomy in the pouch. He pulled on a pair of white gym socks. He browsed through the rest of the underwear in Octavio’s drawer. There were some very provocative items there.

Charles put on a plain white wife-beater and went to the closet for jeans. Octavio had many pairs. He selected some worn looking comfortable ones and pulled them on. They felt loose around his ass and waist. He searched for shoes to wear. There were five of six pairs in the closet. The first pair were worn comfortable looking work boots. What the hell, he thought, and he slipped them on his feet. Walking in them was not as difficult as he’d thought it would be as they were a tad bit large.

He went to the bathroom and brushed his hair. He seemed to know exactly how to do it, and it didn’t feel strange at all. Perhaps he was acquiring some of Octavio’s “memories” just as Keith had acquired Ken’s. When he finished, he took stock of himself in the full-length mirror.

“Is this really me?” he said to himself. He looked good nonetheless. Octavio’s body looked good, with larger biceps and wider shoulders than Charles’ and his beginner mustache looking darker than he’d thought it looked before. He’d combed his hair straight back.

Charles slung the shirt over his shoulder and went downstairs. He made a big breakfast and put on a pot of coffee, although he hadn’t ever been a coffee drinker. As he drank his coffee; he was surprised to see that he’d lit up a pipe he’d found in a pipe rack, although he’d never smoked before, either. Afterwards, he went into the den and turned on the television. He sat down in the big leather chair, and fell asleep.

He didn’t awaken until noon. Suddenly, the events of the morning came back to him. He reached down and felt his crotch; his male equipment seemed a bit larger. He looked at himself in a mirror. His beginner mustache looked bigger and darker.

Charles wondered what he should do for the rest of the day. Ken wouldn’t be home until six-thirty, so dinner was a long way off. He’d done so much housework the day before that there wasn’t anything that needed doing just now. Wandering in the back yard, he noticed the lumber he wanted to use as concrete molds were still intact. While looking through other material he noticed that there wasn’t too much needing to be done to get ready for the concrete pour. Picking up plum lines, and a hammer he spent the rest of the afternoon laying out the form he wanted the patio to follow, and raking gravel. He was only a little surprised to find that he had been smoking the pipe again, which had mysteriously appeared in his shirt pocket.

Charles stretched. He’d hated exercise and work before, but not now. He enjoyed making stuff with his hands and perspiring all over.

He was smelly, so picked up his clothes and went upstairs to the bathroom. He showered and washed himself with some body-wash he found.

Time to get dressed, he decided to get ready for Ken before getting dressed.

He put on fresh briefs and went down to the kitchen. He put out a couple plates and glasses, and started a new pot of coffee. Looking in a mirror, he would never have recognized himself from yesterday. The black body hair, the shadow of a mustache, and he was smoking the pipe again. It looked as though he had experience smoking it too, as he released a nose jet.

By now it was nearly five o’clock, and Charles returned upstairs to dress. Slipping on a pair of shorts, and a T-shirt. Stubble was pretty thick on his face so he shaved, something he never did more than once a week before. When he got to the beginner mustache, he paused before he completely shaved it off.

In the bedroom, Charles saw a gold wedding band by one side of the bed. Charles absent mindlessly put it on his left ring finger. Lighting a fresh pipe, he headed downstairs to wait for Ken.

Ken, as promised, arrived home right at six-thirty. When he heard the car pull up in the driveway, Charles became kind of nervous. What would be do? Ken could do anything to him, and Charles wouldn’t have a choice but to go along.

  1. Dinner and Afterwards

Ken walked into the kitchen with a couple pizzas, and a box of wings.

“Octavio, how’s it hangin’!” he exclaimed with a slight smile.

The pizza and wings were great, and Ken acted happy and outgoing. He told him about his day at the office. He smiled a lot. Octavio smiled, too. He wasn’t nervous at all now, and he was enjoying the conversation. They had apple pie for desert.

Octavio poured coffee and lit up his pipe.

“Why don’t we have coffee in the den? We can watch the news.” Ken said.

“Cool.” They stood up. Ken walked over to him and put his arm around his waist.

“Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Octavio,” Ken said as he looked deep into his eyes. He started to answer, but Ken kissed him on the lips. It was more of a peck than a kiss, really, but it sent Octavio’s head spinning. This was not what he had in mind, or was it? His cock was erect.

Ken released him. They picked up their coffee cups and went into the den. Ken sat down on the sofa, and Octavio sat down next to him; where else would he sit? However, he made sure there was plenty of room between them.

They drank their coffee and Octavio repacked, and re-lit his pipe. Ken set his arm so it rested lightly on his shoulders. Octavio didn’t object, but he was nervous. They sat that way for awhile.

Ken moved a little closer to Octavio and placed his hand on his crotch. Octavio’s cock, firmly ensconced in his shorts, was rock-hard. He looked at Ken’s crotch. Obviously, he was hard, too. What, Octavio wondered, is going on here?

Ken leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Do you mind?” he whispered.

“Ken, don’t do this, I’m not a… I’m not ready,” Octavio mumbled.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t care. I just want to play, to see what it feels like to be a man. You look so handsome, Octavio.”

Octavio was surprised by this last comment. “…I get you excited, Ken?”

Ken took his hand and moved it to his crotch. He could feel his hard cock easily, even through his pants.

“Does that answer your question?” he asked. He held his hand firmly, sliding it rhythmically across his crotch.

“Why don’t you unzip me?” he asked.

“Dang, Ken…”

“Go ahead. You’ll enjoy it,” he said.

Octavio didn’t know what he wanted to do at that moment, but he felt he had to do whatever Ken wanted. He reached over with both hands and unzipped Ken’s pants. Ken reached down and plopped his cock out. Damn, he’s big, thought Octavio. His own cock was still on fire.

Ken wrapped Octavio’s hand around his cock. The cock felt like his, he thought, only bigger. Since he didn’t know what else to do, Octavio began to move his fingers, searching for the same pleasure spots on Ken’s cock that he liked to feel on his. He flicked the tip; Ken seemed to enjoy that.

Ken told him to lie down. So he did. Ken pulled down his pants, and lay down on top of him. He kissed him passionately. When he felt Ken’s tongue deep in his mouth, he began to kiss back. All the while, Ken’s cock was under him, grinding back and forth along his thigh. Octavio wondered how long it would take Ken to come, because he wanted to come himself, and he wouldn’t do it in front of Ken.

Ken kept at it for a long time, but he couldn’t reach an orgasm while lying on Octavio that way. Soon he stopped moving around and just lay there. Octavio didn’t mind. He liked the feel of his weight.

“I guess we’d better stop,” Ken said in his ear.

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m not getting anywhere. I’ve never done it this way before,” he said. He moved off Octavio and stood up. His thick cock protruded straight out in front of him.

Octavio knelt down in front of Ken so that his cock was aimed directly at his face. He held it with both hands and started to move his thick fingers about. Half of him was revolted by the notion; the other half was desperate to try it.

“Okay, lover, see if you like this,” he said in a husky, gravely voice. He kissed Ken’s cock and began to lick the tip. He took Ken in his mouth, gingerly at first, then deeper and deeper. He’d never looked at a cock from this angle; he could see only Ken’s pubic hair and his own hand wrapped around his shaft. I’m sucking a man’s cock, Octavio said to himself. The idea was horrible, but the sensation was so thrilling that he wouldn’t have stopped for anything.

He didn’t have to work very long; Ken came in less than a minute. Octavio felt the semen rush in his mouth. Not knowing what else to do with it, He swallowed it. It felt thick and salty on his tongue, but he liked it, in a strange way.

He kept his mouth on Ken’s cock until he pulled him to his feet. Octavio grabbed him hard about his shoulders. They kissed a while, then he darted into the bathroom. He dropped his shorts down and stroked his cock two times before coming. Gasping he watched a monster load of semen sail into the toilet.

Octavio declined Ken’s invitation to sleep with him that night. He seemed to understand. He went to the guest room, the room which had been his bedroom just a day before.

The evening’s activities were so remarkable that Octavio had difficulty accepting them. “Did I really do all those things?” he asked himself. Dazed and fatigued, he fell asleep quickly.

Octavio did not wake up until eight-thirty. By then, he knew, Ken was long gone. He stayed in bed and relived in his mind each detail of the previous night. He felt guilty and humiliated by his behavior with Ken. He resolved not to let it happen again, although he couldn’t forget about the feel of Ken’s cock in his mouth.

Ken would change them back soon, he was sure. If he didn’t, he would somehow wrest the leaf from him and change them back himself. For now, it seemed that going along was the only course.

Octavio lumbered; big wang swinging into the bathroom and took stock of himself. His penis was huge, but even more it had a thick meaty foreskin over the end now. The damn thing looked to be near 10 inches semi hard, with big ‘nads swinging down almost as far, behind them!

His pecs and hard muscle gut covered in black hair mostly hiding his view! Looking down, the bathroom counter was several inches lower. He seemed to be six foot something. Wide eyed he said, “Hello!” into the air; his voice was gravely and masculine. Looking at his face, the mustache he shaved off last night was back with a vengeance. A wide, black, rectangle of hair obscured his upper lip. Eyebrows were thicker, hooding his now dark brown eyes.

  1. Second Day

Octavio loved the way his huge schlong bounced when he walked. He even loved the way if felt when shoved down a pant leg. He put on clothes, enjoying the way his briefs were totally inadequate for the job required of them. He got his ass in the expensive weight system, and exercised for four hours then took a shower.

Octavio needed things for an Italian dinner, so he decided to go out. Slipping on some worn Jeans, a wife-beater, and some new looking cowboy boots he grabbed his wallet and his keys and walked out to the garage. ..I didn’t know I had a work truck he said to himself as he slid his wide ass into the driver’s seat of a beat up, ten year old F-250, loaded with tools and plywood. As she pulled out of the driveway, his nerves acted up again. Would anyone suspect he was not quite what he seemed? Could he look and act his part convincingly? He drove to the new mall across town,

He pulled into the parking deck and turned off the engine. This is it, he thought. He locked the truck and lumbered towards the elevator. The mall was busy, and there were lots of people going to and from their cars. Some stared at him, but nobody said anything, nobody seemed surprised. Octavio told himself that women were just checking him out.

Octavio got what he needed without incident, so he began to relax. I look good, even if something’s not quite right yet, he thought. After buying the spices and other things for dinner, he decided to look around at stuff. His crotch was sweating up a storm, and his huge ‘nads had his upper thighs dripping wet. In fact he spent the best part of the last few hours scratching, and grabbing at his crotch trying to relieve himself of the annoying erotic heat.

Finding a sporting goods store, he found s XXX large jockstrap. It was only one o’clock. Octavio had no desire to go home yet; there was too much to do outside. He pulled up to a Bar called “The Fist”, He’d never been there, but for some reason it seemed like the kind of bar where he’d be happy.

He went inside and got sat at the bar. The place was nearly filled with guys wearing leather. He ordered a beer, pulled out his pipe and lit up. A young boy walked over to his table.

“Hey. Don’t you work at Joe’s Garage?” he asked. Octavio didn’t even know what ‘Joe’s’ was.

“No, I don’t. Sorry,” he said, smiling.

“Oh sorry, I thought you might be the new guy there,” he said.

Octavio noticed he had left his wedding ring home. God, he thinks I’m single, he thought. His dick plumped up. He was no more than twenty-five, probably less, and a bit shaky with his pick-up lines. He just stood there, leaning on the back of a chair.

His turn, he thought. “Sit your ass down, boy,” he said. They talked a little and exchanged names. His was Jim. Octavio then paid their bills. Damn! I shouldn’t be doing this, Octavio told himself over and over, but his dick was itching for action. Octavio guided him to his work truck.

“We’re safe,” he said. “No one can see in.”

Octavio didn’t wait for Jim. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his dripping cock. The huge wet head emerging from the thick heavy foreskin with a wet popping noise. Jim tried to kiss Octavio, but his mouth was guided down on the huge pole too quickly. He gave him a slow, deliberate blow job. “¡Oh sÃ! Suck it! Suck it bitch!” Octavio was so helpless that he couldn’t do anything except cum. The young dude sucked him dry and even licked the last few drops from around the tip of his cock.

Octavio looked down at Jim and smiled. “Like it, boy?” he asked.

“Fuckin’ awesome, Sir!” was Jim’s clever response.

“I’ve got to get home, boy.” Octavio grunted as he zipped up, and ushered Jim out of the truck seat.

“Can I maybe get your phone number, Sir?” Jim asked.

“Why don’t you give me yours instead Boy?” I replied. He recited his number. “I’ll remember it,” then Jim sped off, and Octavio started his truck.

As he drove, he felt ashamed on several counts. He had done something that no married man should ever do. How guilty can a person feel? Ken will never find out about this, he told himself.

When he arrived home, he started making pasta for dinner and slowly rubbed his growing hard-on. As he did, he replayed his time with Jim through his head, thinking it was a one time thing and that he would never call Jim or do that kind of despicable act ever again.

  1. Second Evening

Ken was home at six-thirty. Dinner was awesome, and once again they drank quite a bit of wine, Octavio’s first. Ken wanted to go into the den.

“Let’s go upstairs?” Octavio asked.

“Okay,” he replied.

Octavio went up to the bedroom to get ready. He kicked his boots into the corner, shucked his jeans, and pulled off his shirts. He sprawled out on the bed, waiting for Ken. The outline of his monster genitals was obvious in his boxers, but he didn’t care. He didn’t think Ken would be upset.

Ken came in, looked at him, and with a creepy smile, stripped off his clothing without a word. He was on top of him in a flash. Ken nibbled on Octavio’s nipples as he rubbed his leg against Octavio’s cock.

“I want to do stuff to you,” Ken whispered huskily.

He went to the dresser and pulled something from one of his drawers. It was a dildo, a big one. With a gold metal tip.

“Damn, Ken, where did you get that?” Octavio gasped.

“I bought it yesterday. I thought it’d be fun to experiment. Want to try?”

Octavio felt a weird mix of revulsion and excitement. He’s going to fuck me in the ass, he thought. Part of him wanted to say no, but that part couldn’t speak. The part that could speak said “Yes, yes.”

Ken found a tube of K-Y jelly. He opened it and covered the tip with the clear goop. Octavio got up on his hands and knees. Ken pulled his boxers down just far enough to get to his asshole. He smeared jelly there, too.

“Just relax and enjoy it, wanna stretch you out a bit.” he ordered. Octavio waited, he made no effort to see what Ken was doing. He felt the cold tip of the head against his asshole. It was soothing, and it seemed to free up all the muscles through his ass. Ken began to press harder into his asshole, and Octavio felt pain.

“You’ve got to loosen up in there, baby,” Ken said, without sympathy. Octavio tried to relax even more. Suddenly, he knew, the rubber schlong was inside him, and there was no pain any more. Ken moved the dildo in and out and slid it from side to side, as if trying to enlarge his opening. As Octavio became accustomed to the new sensation of being invaded from the rear, he became more and more aroused. His whole body felt hot. His dong had long ago flopped out onto the sheets. It felt like it wanted to burst.

Ken had lubricated his hard cock while he stimulated Octavio with the toy. As he pulled the toy out, he tried to insert himself into Octavio’s asshole. It took a while to find the proper angle, and Octavio had to relax himself again. Finally, he was inside. Octavio let out a long moan.

“Fuck me,” Octavio said. He IS fucking me, he thought, and I hope he doesn’t stop. For Octavio this was even better than the dildo, since he knew he was being fucked by a man, his man.

Just like the night before, Ken could not last long. His sperm began to pour into him; he pulled out and let the last bit flow over his back. Octavio bellowed as he dumped a huge load into the sheets, without even touching himself. After collecting himself Octavio reached around with his hand, and wiped the sperm off his back, and licked his fingers. Then he flipped over onto his back. Ken lay down next to him. He fondled his dick while Octavio kept his hand wrapped firmly around Ken’s cock.

  1. Third Day

Transformation is complete

Ken was still sleeping soundly when he awoke early Saturday morning. Immediately he reached down and felt the heavy column of flesh lying heavily on his thigh. In his excitement, it started thickening up. He started to grab Ken to wake him up, but he caught himself. Quietly, he climbed from bed, and lumbered down to the kitchen. He made an elaborate breakfast. He put it on a tray and carried it upstairs.

Ken was still asleep. He set the tray on the floor. Carefully, he pulled the covers away from his boss. Ken was on his back. He climbed in next to Ken and began to massage his cock with his tongue. He started to grow hard even though he was asleep. Amazing! He sucked, and Ken couldn’t stay asleep any longer. When Ken opened his eyes he tried to take hold of him. He jumped away.

“Not now, Papi,” he said. He flipped on the light and brought the breakfast tray into bed with them. They talked, they ate. Octavio was halfway through a doughnut when he realized he couldn’t wait any longer. He gave Ken the best blow job he’d ever had; at least, he assumed it was the best one he’d ever had. I wonder what he does on his lunch hour, Octavio thought.

As Ken started to come, he pulled his mouth away and let Ken;s sperm dribble out onto his doughnut.

“Cream-filled,” Octavio said, and ate it.

Ken fucked him four times that day. Octavio was sorry he didn’t have more endurance. Maybe he should visit that bar again while Ken is at work.

  1. Result

In the months that followed, Ken tried to use the magic leaf many times. He found that it couldn’t influence world events, couldn’t change the weather, couldn’t heal the sick. In fact, it didn’t work on any persons except him and Charles. He had no further professional aspirations, so he never again wished for anything related to his job.

Mostly, Ken used the leaf to change Charles. One night he might be a big, dominant bear of a redhead with huge muscles. The next night he would be a demure, twink with a lisping, eager mouth. At Christmas they spent a week in the Bahamas; Charles went as an athletic, muscular black man.

Sometimes Ken thought about the first time he had transformed Charles. His meticulous wish had changed him psychologically as well as physically. Now he’d always be a contented maintenance man and a willing sexual partner. Charles will never know, Ken thought.

Charles showed no interest in the leaf anymore. Why should he? During his initial transformation, he realized that Ken had altered his mind as well as his body; how else could he have accepted everything so easily? It didn’t matter, for he was happy. He was a lowly manual worker and employee of his former brother, yes, but he had hardly any work to do since they’d hired another guy to help. Tall, blonde Oskar came in on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, and Octavio would fuck with him every time, allowing the German muscle god to spear him in a variety of positions around the house and grounds.

Ken will never know, Charles thought. .

  1. One year later

Over time Octavio; with Ken’s help and financing, they opened a construction firm, with Octavio as contractor. Ken would keep an eye on the books and Octavio would get the logistics under control, and kick asses, if they needed it.

It was July, and Oskar left without notice the previous month. This put Octavio out of sorts when setting up his portable office at the site of an old building they got a contract to demolish. It was an issue of removing Asbestos. An old tore up Honda pulled up to the porta-office. While hooking up a sewer line, Octavio looked up and noticed the well built blonde kid wearing jeans and a white T-Shirt as he got out. He looked to be just out of his teens; Jim! “Hey! Maybe this job will be more fun than I thought!” said Octavio while getting up and dusting himself off.

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