A Whole New World Ch. 00

I was inspired by Genie Chronicles by Joe Brolly and A Beautiful Wish by 800IbGorilla, and decided to write my own "sex genie" story. I'll attempt to stay true to the Rules of Magic from that universe. All characters are 18 or older. This is my first story, so criticism is welcome, but be gentle please.

No sex in this chapter. It just sets up the main character and how he got his genie.

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Sean Bell put his truck in park, and got out to unhook the trailer carrying his pressure-washing rig. As he cranked the handle to raise it off the hitch, he could hear the first birds singing in the predawn. With a sigh he climbed back into his vehicle and moved it up to his usual parking spot next to his apartment. He turned off the truck and climbed out, taking a deep breath of the... late night... (early morning?) air. What do you call it when it's too dark to be daylight, and to light to be night, but not light enough to be twilight? Sometimes I hate my life, he thought to himself as he trudged inside out of the mid October air.

About the best thing he could say about his place was that it wasn't his parents' basement. The fact that it was a converted garage wasn't much of a step up, but he'd take it. At least it was plenty big, having started off as a two-car garage, with a wood shop in the back. Dad hadn't practiced his hobby for years, and when Sean's grandmother started to need daily help, they had converted it into a guesthouse for her. Unfortunately, she declined so rapidly she moved straight into the house and never used it. He had moved in to help take care of his grandmother (and being unemployed free room and board was a big draw). His mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor less than a year after his grandmother had passed, so he stuck around to help with her, and start a new business of pressure-washing commercial concrete (sidewalks and drive through pads for fast food places mostly), but it wasn't quite making ends meet.

All this buzzed through his mind as he unlocked the door and went inside. Shaking his head at himself he thought, How fucking pathetic. 39 years old virgin and I'm practically living with my parents! He stripped off his clothes to take a shower before bed. Pressure washing wasn't hard work, but it was dirty. He glanced at himself in the mirror, and lamented that he was cursed with a bad metabolism. He didn't over-eat, and his choices were usually at least SEMI-healthy, but no matter how hard he worked at it, he added more flab by the year. He was now what could only be described as "morbidly obese", despite it being spread out somewhat over his 6'0" frame. His dark brown hair was slowly turning gray, another sign of his creeping age.

He didn't even glance at his cock, knowing what he'd see. He was definitely a "grower", and not a "shower". At his hardest he was only slightly below average at 5 ¼", and 1 ½" thick; if he could loose some weight he'd probably gain some length as well. The really depressing part was that when he wasn't hard he shrank down drastically to an inch or two, if he was generous (on really cold days it practically inverted into his paunch), and barely 1" thick.

He quickly washed up, and then went to bed naked as usual. He was pleasantly surprised to realize that he was getting into bed before 4 a.m. and set his alarm for 10. He had promised some friends from his historical re-enactment group to show up in support of their promotional boot at the Renaissance Fair tomorrow afternoon. At least I'm not completely without friends, he mused, just never married with no kids and destined to die alone. He barked a harsh laugh at himself, FUCK I hate working so late. It pushes me from maudlin to downright depressed. Get over it, dumb-ass. Everything looks better in daylight. With that he turned off the light and went to sleep.

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As he was eating his oatmeal the next morning he was glad that his dad had retired last month. With him home to take care of mom everyday it freed up a lot of time for him. She did ok most of the time, but between the tumor and the chemo she was a little confused sometimes, and needed someone to keep her from using deodorant on her toothbrush instead of toothpaste. He saw that their car was gone, and remembered that his nephew had a track meet this morning, so they would be gone most of the day anyway. He got dressed in his "garb" as the historically accurate clothes his group wore was called, and headed out for the Ren-fair.

Living well outside of town as he did, it took a while to get there, but he didn't mind too much. He did wish he lived closer to town so he could get high speed internet, but at least satellite internet allowed surfing, even if it sucked for streaming. It was nearing noon by the time he got parked and headed inside. There wasn't much for him to do until the fair closed. He knew he would be working during the set-up, so he offered to help close down and pack up their display, and meandered the fair to look at the vendors and displays.

One in particular caught his eye, an Arabian pavilion filled with all kinds of weird trinkets and baubles. Some were metal, some were glass, and some were carved wood. He spoke for a while with the owner, one "Habib Farrokh", who was friendly, and either affected a convincing accent, or spoke with the real thing. Before he realized it, it was late afternoon, and it was time to pack it up. The work went quickly, and he quipped, "Many hands make light work. See you guys at the business meeting next week!"

On impulse he decided to swing by Habib's tent again, and arrived just in time to see a group of roughhousing teens knock over one of his tables. He jogged over and helped him to right the table and pick up the scattered wares. Steve crawled under one of the tables and found a ball of carved wood. He stared at it in wonder as he stood up; it wasn't just a ball, it was hollow, with the outside carved to look like lace. He had some experience with woodcarving and the skill required to hollow out a ball, and carve the face of it with this delicate pattern was extraordinary.

Suddenly he felt a sensation from it like a cross between a mild electrical shock and a vibration, and he nearly dropped it, juggling it back and forth before finally getting it under control. Flushed with embarrassment he looked over at Habib who was looking back and forth between Steve and the ball before he asked, "Are you all right, my friend?"

Sean stepped over to the table to put the trinket down, but seemed unable to do so and stood there staring at it, "Yeah, it's just weird. For a moment there it was like I was holding one of those joy buzzer gags. There's nothing inside it to cause that, though."

Habib tilted his head to the side in contemplation for a moment, then nodded as if he had decided something. "That has been in the inventory of my family's shop for a very long time. Legend has it, that the person it was intended for died before he could receive it, and it's creator gave it to the man's nephew, who had inherited his store. The creator of that bauble is said to have left instructions to keep it safe, and someday it would present itself to a worthy recipient." He glanced once more at the ball before adding with a laugh, "I believe that has finally happened. Take it my friend, for the help you have freely offered just now, and for the company this afternoon."

"No, I didn't do that for a reward; I was glad to help. At least let me pay for it," Sean tried to protest.

"I insist, my friend. If you paid, then it would no longer be a gift. Take it, and enjoy it with good health," Habib held up is hands with refusal to take it back.

Sean, gave a chagrined smile, and nodded, "Thank you. It's very beautiful. I'll take good care of it, I promise."

Habib returned to his packing with a final, "Peace be with you."

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When he got home, Sean took a quick shower, and turning on the TV for some background noise, sat on the couch in his jockey's to examine the sphere. He didn't recognize the wood, Maybe Hornbeam he thought. He noticed that the grain of the wood almost seemed to follow the "threads" of the lace work, and the only places it could really be seen was in five rosettes scattered around the surface. Odd, they almost look like fingerprints. He placed his right thumb on the largest one, and his fingers were just able to touch the other four.

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in the pad of his thumb, and but he couldn't let go as his hand clenched down on the ball. What looked like gold smoke came pouring out of the ball like it was a censer of incense, and the cloud enveloped him. As he breathed it in his vision started to fade away and his last thought before losing consciousness was, Fuck! What now?