Button, Button

Over the week prior to me writing this, two fellow authors on Literotica published stories that caught my eye, one from an established author I follow, one from someone new. These stories reminded me of an old episode of 'The twilight Zone,' and an idea for a story of my own was born. Four hours later, I was editing a new short story.

I give credit to those that inspired me to write this short story at the end. If you want to cheat, go ahead, but it might ruin the surprise if you do.

All standard caveats apply.

Enjoy and please leave me a comment when you're through.

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The string of expletives Pat was mumbling under his breath would have made his uncle Joe blush, and Joe had been a Merchant Marine for twenty years. Kicking the package by his door as hard as he could, he watched it skitter down the hall as he took his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

The package came to rest by Mr. Samuel's door and all he needed now was to make his landlord mad, so he went down and picked it up, checking to see how badly he had broken it. He shook it and it didn't rattle, so that was a good sign.

Patrick Anderson, 21 S. Masters Ave. #15, Austin, TX, 78705.

That was him, but he didn't remember ordering anything. Maybe his mom or dad had sent him something. "Shit, I hope it's not cookies." He went inside and set it on the kitchen table before going to his room to change into something more comfortable. He'd figure it out later. Now all he wanted was a beer or five or six.

Pat looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He just didn't get it. He had dressed nice, in Khaki slacks, a short sleeve UT button down. It was August in Texas, and it was a party at The University after all. He was a good-looking guy, all his friends told him so, and he agreed. With rich auburn hair and bright green eyes, he got compliments all the time.

Just under six feet and about 150 pounds, he was slightly above average height, maybe a little thin, but not too bad. He had a friendly smile and a laid-back manner about him. Maybe that was it. Maybe the girls he was trying to date thought he was too passive, but he felt like he was just being a 'nice guy.'

Yeah well, it looked like once again, nice guys finished last. At least with April Summers, they did. She had dumped him less than fifteen minutes after they got to the party, running off with some football jock that was just going to add her to his list of one-night stands.

"Beers?" He texted his best friend, Jeff.

"Again??? Damn, On my way."

Pat was already two beers in, sitting on the couch, looking at the unopened package when Jeff arrived. Thankfully, Jeff brought a six-pack of his own. They were going to get good and toasted tonight, again.

"What happened this time?" Jeff plopped down next to his best friend.

"Rick Adams. I should have known better than to ask a cheerleader to go out with me. Not even half an hour this time. I think that's a record." Pat downed the rest of his beer and crushed the can on his way to the fridge to get another one.

"What's this?" Jeff picked up the package from where Pat had set it.

"No idea. I didn't order anything and there's no return address. I was just getting ready to open it when you got here." Pat sat down and took the package from Jeff, setting his beer down and ripping the packaging open.

Inside was a strange-looking box, trapezoidal, wider at the base than at the top, closed on all sides, with a clear dome on the top covering a large red button. There was a keyhole on one side, just below the lid that held the dome, and a small envelope taped to the bottom of the box.

The card in the envelope simply said "10:30 PM." It was 10:15 now.

"Ah, Mister Anderson, I presume. I see you received the package. May I come in?" The knock on the door had come at precisely 10:30.

"Uh, sure. You're not selling timeshares or something, are you?" Pat stepped aside and let the stranger into his apartment. How dangerous could it be, these was one of him and he looked less threatening than Pat, and Jeff was 6. 5" and 250 pounds. If the stranger didn't have a gun or something, they'd be fine, even with the beer they had drunk.

"I won't take much of your time." The stranger smiled, taking the seat opposite the sofa Pat and Jeff had been sitting on. "I'm sure you are quite curious about the box."

"A little." Pat nodded.

"It's quite simple, really. I give you the key and you open the box and press the button. Someone you don't know has their life changed in a way they would never expect, permanently."

"Why would I do that?" Pat almost looked offended.

"The oldest of reasons, of course, money. In this case, two hundred thousand dollars." The stranger said it so matter-of-factly, it sounded like a forgone conclusion.

"Damn, you could move out of this shit apartment and quit that crappy job. You could take more than two classes a semester again. You'd be set, man." Jeff jumped on board immediately.

"Nope. I remember this story. Your company, or whatever it is, is going to kill somebody and then give the box to somebody that's never heard of me. I'm next. You can take this thing and leave right now." Pat grabbed the box and tossed it to the stranger.

"Mr. Anderson, I assure you that is not the case." The stranger gently set the box on the coffee table in front of Pat. "No one will be physically harmed. We will simply alter their lives in a manner they would never expect. They will still be as healthy as they are now, just in different circumstances."

"Some guy that just had a kid gets fired or something. I can't do that." Pat was pacing back and forth. Jeff was right, though. This apartment was shit and his job sucked, but he was trapped in both.

"Or somebody wins the lottery. Maybe that's what it is, somebody that really needs it, too. And what if you don't press the button, then? Besides, it's somebody you've never heard of, somebody you don't even know." Jeff was putting on the hard sell.

The stranger sat there quietly as the two friends went back and forth, Jeff offering a positive scenario for every negative Pat threw at him.

"Let's do this." The stranger stood up. "I'll leave this key with you. You take your time and think about it. If you decide to press the button, unlock the case and press it. If you decide not to, call me at the number on this card and I will come pick it up." He pulled another envelope from his pocket, handing it to Pat and turning to leave. "If I don't hear from you in two days, say, by Monday, I'll come pick up the box and give it to someone else."

"Look, man, I'm just thinking about what's best for you. You're barely keeping up with your classes because of the crazy schedule that dickhead you work for keeps giving you, and I'm not sure how many more times I can spot you on your rent for this hole you live in." Jeff put his hands on his friend's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Two hundred large, man, and it's someone you've never heard of. Is it really a choice?"

"It's fucking with someone's life. Yeah. It's huge. I don't think I can do that. Especially to some random person. Especially since I don't know if it makes their life better or worse. What If the two hundred came from their life savings and I put them on the street? What kind of person does that make me?"

"Pat, I love you, you know that. Just think about it. It could be your way out of this hell you call your life. Call me tomorrow and we'll talk when we're both sober, ok?"

"Yeah, Jeff. Sure. Tomorrow." Pat paused and picked up the box. "You know what, though? Now that I think about it, there's no way this is real. I mean come on. That thing is a gimmick or something. There's a little transmitter in there and a bunch of psychology graduate students over in Seay Hall counting clicks to see what type of people we are. Even more reason not to push the damned button." He threw the box against the wall as hard as he could. The box was fine, but there was a hole in the wall. Great, one more thing for Mr. Samuels to be mad about.

Jeff left. Pat opened another beer and sat on the couch staring at the dammed box. That was a lot of money and Jeff was right. It would solve a lot of problems.

Pat rolled off the couch onto the floor when his alarm went off. There were three more empties on the table next to the box than he remembered. His raging hangover told him they were his. The envelope was still unopened, so he knew he hadn't done anything stupid, but he also knew he was going to be late for work again.

"Five minutes, Mr. Anderson. This is becoming a habit. I'd hate to cut your hours." His boss had a habit of calling him out like that in front of everybody when he was late. Sure, he did it to others too, but he seemed to enjoy doing it to Pat.

"Sorry Mr. Granger. It won't happen again." They both knew that wasn't true. Pat depended on the city bus to get to work. It was about as reliable as a campaign promise.

Quitting time couldn't get here fast enough. Pat clocked out and took his paycheck from his slot, ripping open the envelope to make sure he was going to pay rent this week.

"Mr. Granger, what's CBP? They took sixty dollars from my check. I can't pay my rent without that sixty dollars".

"Charge back penalty. If your chargeback exceeds the maximum, they take twenty percent of the chargebacks out of your check. Looks like you were over the max by about five dollars for the pay period."

"But twenty percent of five dollars is a dollar, not sixty."

"No, the penalty is twenty percent of total chargebacks." Pat couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yup. See here total chargebacks, three hundred and four dollars and fifty-three cents."

Pat just left, noticing how beaten his coworkers all looked. He didn't even know most of them. They were faceless people that he spent thirty hours a week in three ten-hour shifts sitting with, making outgoing sales calls for crap most people didn't want. What if it was one of them that got their life changed in a way they never expected?

When he got home, there was an envelope stuck in his door jamb. More good news, he was sure of it. "Effective immediately. Rent increase of fifty dollars per month. Late fees apply."

Wonderful. Now he was over a hundred dollars short on his rent. Jeff usually covered for him when stuff like this happened, but he had said last night, he wasn't sure if he could do it anymore.

"Mr. Anderson. Nice of you to call. Have you made your decision?" The stranger hadn't even said hello or asked who it was.

"You never told me your name." Pat's voice was as numb as he was.

"It doesn't really matter, does it? But if it makes you feel better, my name is Stewart, Mr. Stewart."

"And nobody will get hurt, right? Their life will just change. Nobody dies, not even a hangnail, right?"

"Not by our hand, Mr. Anderson. I guarantee you we do not intend to cause any physical harm to anyone, but the changes will be permanent."

"It's somebody I've never heard of, right?"

"More accurately, it is someone you don't know at all."

"But you can't tell me who or how."

"That is correct."

"And when would I get the money?"

"As soon as we can arrange its delivery. Days, perhaps hours."

"And what guarantee do I have for all this?"

"Just my word, Mr. Anderson. I hope that is sufficient. I don't have any reason to lie to you. Our organization has global reach and has been administering this program for quite a while."

"Ok."

"Ok, what, Mr. Anderson? Have you decided?"

Pat just hung up and dialed Jeff. "Come talk me out of this, please. I spent my last hundred bucks on the tickets to that damned charity party with April. They docked my check, and Samuels raised my rent again."

"Damn, Pat. I'm on my way." Pat was about a third of the way through a bottle of Jack Daniels he had bought on the way home when Jeff arrived.

Sitting on the floor staring at the opened box, the key still in the lock, Pat looked more lost than anything. Before Jeff could say a word, Pat took a long drink from the bottle and pushed the button, collapsed into a ball, and cried his eyes out.

Jeff had been there for Pat through it all. Since first grade, he had witnessed the good times and the bad. If there was a rock bottom, his friend had just crashed through the floor into the subbasement. He picked him up and carried him to his room, stripping him down to his boxers and putting him to bed before laying down next to him and just holding him. Jeff didn't know what else to do.

Pat knew who it was immediately. It had happened before. He recognized the slow, deep breathing of his best friend. Jeff had done this for him before. There had been a lot of lows since his parents had died in that car crash and Jeff had been there for him through all of them.

It felt different this time, though. Jeff felt bigger, his muscular arm cupping Pat's chest instead of resting on his stomach as it usually was. It was never sexual; it was just that the small twin bed that came with the apartment offered limited space for the two of them, so Jeff just spooned behind his friend, protecting him from the evils of the night.

What was this strange feeling? It seemed to emanate from where Jeff's hand caressed his chest, from his breast, his nipple to be specific. A warm, tingly sensation that sort of spread through his body to his crotch. And why did he feel wet between his legs? Damn, had he gotten so drunk on the Jack Daniel's that he had wet himself, again? Except it didn't feel like it did when it had happened before. The sheets below him weren't wet, and there was no putrid smell of urine. Instead, it felt kind of nice, almost exciting.

Pat didn't feel hung over, just groggy, and he needed to pee. Carefully extricating himself from Jeff's embrace, he made his way to the bathroom. Something just didn't feel right. He was having a hard time finding his balance. Whatever, he was just a little hung over.

Dropping his boxers, he reached for his penis to aim into the toilet - and screamed.

"Pat, what the hell? Are you alright?" Jeff found his friend staring into the mirror in the bathroom.

"Jeff, what happened to me?" The voice sounded unfamiliar, higher, softer. Staring back at him in the mirror was a girl with long red hair and bright green eyes, nice modest tits, pert or perky, would best describe them. She had long legs and a slim, sleek body. The only hair, aside from the auburn mane that flowed to the middle of her back, was a small tuft of red just above where Pat's cock should have been.

Pat slid his hand between his legs, searching for what he knew he wouldn't find. Instead, he explored the source of the wetness he had felt in bed cuddled next to Jeff. Slipping a finger inside, he let out a soft moan, a moan that grew in intensity as he drew the finger out and across the swelling nib he found at the top of the opening. Pat massaged it for a moment or two, maybe three. His knees went weak as soft tremors swept through his body. It felt so good.

Jeff caught him. "Pat, this is really you?"

"Nnh, hnn." Pat mumbled, rubbing his thighs together as Jeff pulled him close. Whatever he had done had felt so good. He wanted to do it again and again. Maybe Jeff would do it for him. Maybe Jeff would do lots of things to him.

"Yeah, um, ok. I need to pee." Pat shook his heads trying to clear his head, to chase those thoughts from his mind. Did he really just imagine doing 'that' with Jeff?

Sitting to pee was new, and he learned why girls needed to wipe. There was nothing to shake to get the dribbles off.

He looked up at Jeff, seeing him as if with fresh eyes. He had always known girls found Jeff attractive, and suddenly knew why. Jeff was tall and fit, with a big, friendly smile and kind eyes. Pat knew he had an enormous heart. And Jeff didn't date around. He was a one girl at a time kind of guy, which was rare at a University like Texas, especially for an athlete like Jeff. Pat also knew that Jeff was currently single, and that seemed to bring a warmth to his heart. Left field for the baseball team with a cannon for an arm and a bat that had gotten him drafted by the majors twice. He always stayed with Coach Pierce.

Sometimes Pat thought it was because of him and that had always bothered him.

He looked harder and saw the look in Jeff's eyes, compassion for his friend, but mixed with something, something new.

Pat smiled. He was a beautiful girl with long red hair and nice breasts, long legs, and a tight athletic body, standing naked in front of a man, a gorgeous, strong, straight man. Of course, that something new was lust, and he was directing all of it at her. Pat could see the evidence tenting Jeff's boxers. That wet feeling in her crotch came back.

Slowly, she closed the short distance between them, biting her lip in apprehension, trying to gauge Jeff's response to what she was going to do. He didn't move. When she slid her hands across his chest, up over his shoulders, and slipped them behind his neck, he let out a soft moan.

"Pat, should we?" He whispered as she moved her lips closer and closer to his. There was no resistance at all when she kissed him, pressing her naked flesh against his. Whatever came next, they were in complete agreement.

Surrendering completely to her best friend, Pat let Jeff teach her everything he knew about a woman being with a man. He kissed and caressed her skin, fondling, kissing, sucking and pinching her nipples, eliciting loud moans and making her writhe with newly discovered pleasures.

Jeff drew intricate designs with his tongue and his lips all over her stomach, down her legs, and behind her knees before slowly moving to her core. Teasing her lips with his kisses, driving her insane with wonderful new experiences, doing things she had only imagined doing to others in her prior life. Because that's what it was, her prior life. This is who she was now.

She was calling his name, begging him to keep going. When he flicked her clit with his tongue, she entered a new world of incredibly beautiful feelings and emotions. She didn't know the words, but the song raged in her soul.

The tempest erupted from deep within her, and all she could do was a scream. Her body lurched and shook, tremors ripped through her. Warm waves of something wonderful engulfed her very essence, and Jeff didn't let it end. He kept going, driving her from one storm to the next, the swells of ecstasy carrying her further and further into the unknown.

A tinge of pain, followed by the most intense feeling of euphoria, flooded her body as he entered her. The waves of pleasure growing more and more intense as they moved together. Pat understanding now what it truly meant to belong to someone. She had given her most intimate parts to her best friend without a word. It was spiritual as much as physical.

She opened her eyes to see his deep brown orbs locked on her face, as if memorizing every aspect of her being. Pulling his lips to hers, she used her feet to urge him to thrust harder and faster, chasing another crest in the endless orgasm he was giving her. All she wanted, the only thing left, was for him to join her in her rapture.

Jeff lurched, and his body frozen in the intensity of the moment. Tremors shook his body. He shuddered and moaned, pulsing deep inside her, completing their union.

Exhausted and elated, covered in sweat, they lay together basking in the afterglow of the best sex either of them had ever experienced. Pat couldn't imagine anything more perfect than this very moment. Maybe this is how it always should have been.

Pat and Jeff stayed in bed all morning, exploring each other's bodies and souls, talking about what might be next and how this could have happened. They both knew the answer, but the strange man, Mr. Stewart, had promised that it would be someone Pat didn't know.