I was going mad. That was the only explanation.

Genies didn’t really exist.

And they didn’t really grant wishes. Did they?

It sat in front of me on my workbench - the old pottery jar shaped like a bottle with a curving carrying handle on its side, and a slightly curved spout.

I’d been cleaning it of the dust and dirt of centuries, exposing its fine near-glassy blue surface, and revealing odd markings and symbols painted rather than etched on it. That’s when I heard the voice.

Daisy had wandered by, cheerfully sweeping a broom back and forth. I’d paused from my work, cleaning brush in hand, to watch her tight denim-clad buttocks sway. She was magnificent. At eighteen, full of beauty and the vitality that comes from naïve innocence. Oh, how I wanted to crush her in my arms, protect her from the wicked world, and – yes – ravish her, like no-one had ever been ravished before.

As I lay in bed at night I’d often dream of how she’d be lying on her bed in her white nightie, looking up at me with fear and love. “Please, be gentle,” she’d say, as I slowly disrobed her, revealing first her beautiful generous breasts, and then her virgin pussy. It would be trimmed – it was my fantasy, after all.

Sometimes that would be enough – the vision and my hand causing my cock to erupt, splashing its load into the waiting tissues. Other times I’d hang on long enough to see her eyes widen as I disrobed. “It’s so big!” she’d declare in a timid voice, and look at me with big, trusting eyes. Then she’d give that little cry of pain as I penetrated her. Sometimes I’d last long enough to hear her scream my name as she came.

“She can be yours.”

I’d nearly dropped the bottle in shock. That would have been the end of me. The Boss would have lost her contract with the university, the owner of the bottle and the other antiquities I was cleaning. She’d have taken it out on me, as she loves to do, and I’d be back in prison quicker than you could say Clink.

It seemed surreal to be worrying about such things when a bottle was talking to me.

“Yes, Derek, I am real. You can think of me as a genie. I can speak only to the possessor of my container, and that’s you. I can grant you three wishes.

The voice was my voice, the voice of my own thoughts. It even spoke as I did. I had to be going mad.

It couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be true. If I made a wish, nothing would happen. I’d just feel a little foolish.

We should all feel a little foolish once in a while. It’s good for the ego.

I picked up the bottle, and yes, I felt foolish. “I wish… I wish Daisy Craig loved me the way she does in my fantasies.”

“Did you say something, Derek?” she said, walking in through the door.

I jumped, panicking. How much had she heard. I started to stammer a response when I heard a loud crack. One of the cabinets was breaking away from the wall, and falling as if in slow motion… towards Daisy!

Without thinking, I leapt over my workbench and propelled her back through the doorway. She was startled and fell back, and I landed sprawled on her soft body. Behind me there was a loud crash as the cabinet smashed against the floor.

I was stunned. I was lying on top of Daisy Craig. She was writhing under me. How I’d dreamt of this…

“Derek! Derek! Get off me!” She pushed me away, on to my back, and looked behind me at the wreckage. Then she looked down at me, her eyes wide in wonder, her face just as I’d imagined.

And then she suddenly kissed me. “You saved me!”

“What in God’s name!” The crash had brought the Boss out of Her lair. Lenora Kelly, the owner of this antique store. She had an amazing body – she was short, black, and impossibly busty. So much so that I couldn’t look at her without imagining what it feel like to slide my cock between her fabulous tits.

Unless she was talking, with those full, thick lips. Oh what use I could put them too…

She’d taken an instant dislike to me, the judgemental bitch. The conditions of my parole work placement meant I was at her mercy, and she knew it. She found some way to belittle me every day.

Daisy and I leapt to our feet, and Daisy excitedly described how the cabinet had nearly crushed her and would have but for my heroic action.

Lenora looked into the room, assessing the damage. The broken cabinet’s contents – archaeology excavation tools, cleaning brushes, empty trays – were scattered across the floor. She turned back to look suspiciously at me. She thought I’d done it! Bitch!

“You were lucky,” she told me. “It looks as if the antiquities cupboard was spared. Still, it looks as if you’ll be working late tonight. That’s a lot of cleaning up to do. I’ll expect a full inventory of the damage when I return from the fundraiser tonight.”

But – but I just saved Daisy from serious harm, maybe even a crippling, you heartless bitch!

I took a deep breath. “Yes, Ms Kelly.”

She turned to Daisy. “You’ve had a shock, dear. You’d better get off home, and rest up.”

Daisy thanked her and hurried to the door. How soon they forget, I was thinking. And then at the door, she turned and looked back. She was looking at me, curiously, wonderingly, as if seeing me for the first time. Time seemed to stop for a moment.

Then she lowered her eyes shyly, and silently mouthed, “Thank you.” And then she was gone.

I felt ten feet tall.

That evening, I worked furiously – in at least two senses of the word. I made short work of the debris, all the while raging at The Boss, She Who Must Be Obeyed. She was out at a party, raising money for the university she used to work for. She got to have a good time while I was forced to stay here well past my work hours, doing the work of a caretaker! The bitch!

As I finished, I allowed myself to remember that look Daisy gave me. What did it mean? I remembered the wish… But wouldn’t she be grateful after an incident like that? Maybe I was reading too much into it. But it was convenient timing…

I’d been avoiding it all evening, but now I picked up the genie’s bottle.

“She will love you.” The voice. Was it real? If it was a genie, why didn’t Daisy throw herself at me, and immediately declare her love for me?

“At this moment she is lying in her bed thinking of you, thinking of your heroism. She is remembering how it felt to be crushed underneath you, so safe, so right. A fire is growing in her body, a fire she will not be able to satisfy. A fire only you can satisfy.”

I was hard. Imagining her. But I was imagining this whole thing, wasn’t I?

“You doubt me, still… And when Daisy returns tomorrow, full of love and desire for you, you will still doubt, won’t you? You need proof.”

The voice paused, and I could imagine some uneasy entity pondering, before coming up with a suggestion. “Someone despises you, treats you as her slave. You have the power to change this. ”

The Boss-bitch! At mention of her, my rage returned. How I’d love to teach her a lesson, treat her as a slave for a change!

It didn’t matter that it was just a fantasy, it was fun to think about. I imagined her kneeling at my feet, begging me for mercy, and the image was so vivid, I couldn’t help myself. I fished my still hard member from my trousers. “I wish The Boss was my slave!” I was grunting and groaning, the bottle in one hand, straining cock in the other. In my mind, she was on her knees, on all fours, screaming in pain and pleasure as I fucked her like the bitch was. The fantasy was so vivid!

I grunted and came, spurting over the just-cleaned worktop.

At that moment, I heard the door store’s door open, and reality set in. “Fuck!”

If she came in and found this mess, she’d have my testicles! I dropped the bottle in its tray and zipped myself up, then hurriedly cleaned the mess up.

At the sound behind me I froze, and slowly turned. The Boss was leaning against the door frame, a vision threatening to spill out of a red dress. One hand on the wall behind her head, the other on her hip. Her weight rested on one stocking-clad leg; the other knee pointed towards me, the foot resting on the wall behind her. Her back was arched, thrusting her mighty breasts towards me. Her smoky eyes were half-closed, her lips pursed in an unconscious pout.

I swallowed, my heart racing. I’d just come, but I was ready. Boy, was I ready.

She gave a little moan, and said, “I’m so horny.” Her voice was quiet, slurred, sexy. Was she drunk?

Then her hand moved from her hip, slipping under her skirt. Her head fell back, her eyes closing in pleasure.

I heard the voice. “She wants you. Take her.” But I couldn’t move. What if she was drunk? What if I touched her and she screamed rape?

Then her hand came out of her skirt, and she lifted two glistening fingers to her lips. Her eyes opened, and she looked me straight into the eye, opened those cock-sucking lips of hers, and sucked those fingers into her mouth. That’s when I lost control.

I hurtled over to her, pressed my body against her, and roughly crushed my lips against hers. Her arms swept around me, clutching me to her, and she ground her groin into my hardness, whimpering into my mouth.

I took a step back and tore that flimsy dress from her, then froze at the awesome sight. Her bra strap had broken, and her naked tits spilled free, even more fabulous in the flesh than in my fantasy. She saw me looking, and again reclined against the wall, raising her hands above her head.

“I’m yours,” she said, low and sultry. “Take me!”

I completely lost control, grabbing her and throwing her across the workbench. “Yes!” she squealed. “So powerful!”

I couldn’t wait any longer. I ripped her skirt from her, shoved her panties aside, and thrust myself into her hot, sopping cunt. She squealed as I fucked her, slamming my body against hers, hammering her against the bench, as she begged, “Harder! Harder! Fuck! Oh Fuck! Aiiii!” And then her body stiffened, and she screamed in orgasm, and I was erupting, spilling my seed inside her quivering cunt.

I lay over her, catching my breath. She was trembling and moaning beneath me, her climax slowly subsiding. Then she whispered, “Wow…”

It was true. She was mine. She was really mine. At the thought, I felt myself hardening inside her. She helped me along with a moan of “Yesssss.” Then she turned her head to me, and whispered, “I have a bed upstairs…”

I woke in a strange bed, under sheets damp with the exertions of the last night, with the comforting weight of a soft body draped across my chest. For a moment, I didn’t dare look down.

It hadn’t been a dream. I really had taken the bitch in her own bed. I’d straddled her, squeezing her tits around my cock, thrusting between them and forcing her to lick and suck on the upstroke, till I ejaculated over her tits and face.

I felt her move against me. I looked down and met her bewildered eyes. My heart turned to stone.

She suddenly sat up. “What the fuck!”

She grabbed the blankets and wrapped them around her. “Get out, get the fuck out!”

I protested weakly. “You wanted this! You brought me up here!”

She just screamed to get out before she called the police, so I grabbed my clothes and hurried from the room. Fuck fuck FUCK!

I ran downstairs, desperately running the events of the last night through my mind. Had I read the signs wrong? Had I imagined her coming on to me? Heck, I was imagining a talking bottle – I could have raped her and thought she begged me to do it. I was fucked.

At the exit, I stopped. I took a deep breath, then headed back to the workshop.

I looked at the bottle. I kept looking at it. If I picked it up now, and heard it speak, what did it prove? That I really was mad!

“You’re in early,” Daisy said from behind me. I’d been so involved I hadn’t heard her coming. If she’s really here, I thought. Maybe I’m imagining her, too.

With a great tightness in my chest, I turned to face her, wondering what I’d find.

She was still beautiful. No, she was more beautiful. Instead of her usual shirt and jeans, she was wearing a dress, a light summery dress than showed off her delicious curves. She was even wearing a touch of makeup.

What did it mean? My heart was racing, I was having trouble breathing.

She looked nervous, blushing and standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She’d meet my eyes only for a moment, before looking down. Her own breathing was irregular, making her breasts rise and fall noticeably.

She bit her lower lip, and my eyes were instantly fixated on her glistening pink lips.

“Derek,” she said nervously. “I – I wanted to thank you for – for being such a hero.” She paused and looked like she was going to sick. “Would – would you have dinner with me tonight?” Her breathing was so unsteady now I thought she was going to faint.

“I’d love to,” I told her, marvelling how steady my voice sounded. I couldn’t believe I was hard again.

She froze, looking at me with the widest eyes I’ve ever seen. Eyes that were suddenly brimming with tears of joy. She leapt forward and hugged me, “Oh thank you, thank you! It’ll be the best dinner ever!”

Then she leapt away from me as if stung, and immediately apologised. She looked so frightened that she’d offended me, that I wanted to crush her in my arms and protect her and…

“I love you,” I blurted out, surprising myself.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. Then it turned into a smile, such a joyous smile.

We were staring at each other in a happy daze, when The Bitch came down the stairs. Oh Fuck.

“Daisy, is that you?” she called out, then saw the two of us and froze.

There was a silent moment as our eyes locked. Then she broke the silence. “Derek, what are you doing dawdling about here. You have work to do.”

“Yes, Ms Kelly,” I said quietly. I headed into the workshop, feeling sick to the stomach. What was going on? Was she planning to report me? She surely couldn’t expect us to work normally? Or maybe this is just another of her torments?

I looked at the bottle, imagining that it was drawing me over to pick it up. So I could question it, and figure out what the FUCK! is going on.

But I stopped myself, and spent the morning cleaning up a few other less-remarkable pieces.

From time to time, Daisy brought me a coffee, or popped in to ask if there was anything I needed, or simply appeared in the doorway to smile shyly at me. She was the receptionist in the store, but it was a quiet business so she had plenty of time for such indulgences.

I kept wondering, is she really being more attentive than usual? Does her glowing disposition have anything to do with feelings towards me? Could I resist for much longer the urge to grab her and bend her over the work counter?

I wasn’t an idiot. I knew the way she was acting was a clear sign she had the hots for me in a big way. I just didn’t know how much of what I thought I was seeing was real…

Then lunchtime came, and Daisy popped in one last time with a bombshell. As she smiled, wrapping strands of golden hair around a finger, she innocently told me, “Ms Kelly wants you to pop into her office for a chat.”

That sick feeling was back.

Daisy said, “I have to go out an errand for the afternoon. Pick me up around seven, okay?” I nodded, and she gulped, and quickly darted forward to plant a kiss on my cheek, then blushing again, ran away.

I really didn’t need her making me hard right now.

I took a few deep breaths, glanced over at the bottle which seemed to be beckoning to me, then strode out to face my destiny.

Lenora Kelly met me at the door to her office, dressed in a navy blue suit jacket and knee-length skirt. She politely me invited me to sit down, as she returned to her desk. Now seated, she looked perfectly calm, completely in control, and I felt my doom closing in.

“I called you here, Mr Watkins, to discuss your future.”

Mr Watkins? Shit. She never calls me that. My future?

“The work you’ve done for me, I have to say, is not quite up to scratch. I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”

It was what I’d feared. I tried not to whine. “But please, Ms Kelly. You know the conditions of my parole. If I can’t prove myself trustworthy, they’ll put me back inside! My parole officer, she hates me – she’s been looking for a reason! If you sack me, they’ll think I’ve done something!”

She sighed, sadly. Coolly. “Derek, you can’t expect us to continue working together after last night. What happened – “ there was a flicker of something unrecognisable in her expression, quickly masked. “What happened was a moment of weakness, for both of us. That will not happen again.”

I leaned forward, I was begging, hating myself. “Please, I won’t tell anyone! This is my last chance!”

She stiffened, a look of cold anger on her face. “Would you prefer I say you raped me? That will get you a much longer sentence than your art forgery conviction, I can assure you. Believe me, I can be quite convincing. And -” her voice nearly broke, “I can show the bruises.”

I had been rough with her. I was beaten. I fell back in the chair. Forlornly, I wondered if Daisy would wait for me.

A note of satisfaction – relief? - entered her voice. “I knew you’d see sense. You’re a very reliable person, Derek, despite your… other failings. I’ve called Officer Romero. She’ll be here to pick you up by end of business. You might as well finish some work while you wait.”

As her words sunk in, a cold rage slowly settled over me. After all the work I’d done for her. An antiques restorer worth ten times what she was paying, working without complaint whatever hours she demanded. She’d worked me like a slave, and this is how she repays me… Like a slave.

What had she said? A moment of weakness… So she had been into it as much as me. It wasn’t my imagination. She’d come onto me. She’d made the first move. But now I was an inconvenient reminder of her lust, she was going to discard me. Now that she’d had her fun.

Well, I was going to have some fun first. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you.”

She looked startled. There was a flicker of – whatever that was. She composed herself. “Derek, you’d best get back to work. Don’t make trouble for yourself.”

I stood up and strode towards her, and she stiffened in alarm. I leant forward, resting my fists on the desk, and fixed her eyes with my own. “I’m not going anywhere, Ms Watkins.”

I was astonished at the calm I felt. No, not calm. Rage. Cold rage. “Answer me, Lenora. You enjoyed it didn’t you.”

She was breathing heavily, which did lovely things to her chest. Then I realised: she was actually frightened. Of me! There was something else in her eyes, too.

“Derek, you’re only making things worse.” As she protested shakily, she started to rise.

I thumped the desk. “Sit!”

She immediately sat down, and I enjoyed the view of her jiggling breasts. She looked up at me, horrified. She was on the verge of tears, and spoke quickly, desperately. “Derek, please. Sit down. Let’s talk about this. I’ve been hasty. We can work something out. Just – just don’t do this. Please.”

I could see the points of her nipples. And I knew what I hadn’t dared hope: she was excited. Aroused.

I swung over the desk, sitting on it, and planting a foot either side of her. She lifted her hands to her chin, looking down. “Derek,” she whispered, suddenly meek. “Whatever you’re thinking, please… don’t…”

I leaned forward, and raised her chin, forcing her eyes to meet mine. She was shaking. A tear rolled slowly down her cheek. Her lips trembled. She’d never looked more beautiful.

“Last night,” I demanded quietly, menacingly. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”

She took deep breaths. “If I – I answer, then you’ll go?”

I narrowed my eyes, and she shrunk back. She was so weak, I realised. Pathetic. She’d made my life a misery, and she was pathetic. She’d made me beg her. She was going to pay for that.

At my continuing silence, she grew more alarmed, and then quickly burst out, “Yes! Yes, I enjoyed it! But it doesn’t make any sense! You – you make my skin crawl! The way you undress me with your eyes! I-“ She suddenly gasped, her hands clasped to her mouth, eyes wide in terror.

“So, I undress you with my eyes… Now I’m going to undress you with my words. Stand up and strip.”

She begged me with her eyes, but I had no mercy for her. Sobbing, she stood up. She slowly removed her garments. She was sobbing as she removed her bra, trying to cover her breasts with her hands. Her white panties were soaked. She knew I’d seen her shame, and couldn’t raise her eyes from my feet. At my command, she was soon completely naked, and standing with her hands on her head.

Last night I’d been too overcome with lust and haste to really appreciate the view. I let her stand there for a while, trembling deliciously. She was in my power. She was my slave. It felt… natural.

I hooked my foot into her panties, and lifted them up, transferred them to my hands. As she watched mortified, I raised the flimsy garment to my nose. “Well, well, you’re really wet, aren’t you?”

When she didn’t respond, I prompted her. “Aren’t you?”

She gulped and nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, sniffling.

I raised my foot to her groin, and lifted her on to tiptoes. She groaned. “Please don’t – please. I’m not like this!”

“I’m getting tired of your whining,” I told her. “Keep it up and you’ll be meeting your next customer as you are.”

She was breathing heavily again, looking shocked and when she realised I was deadly serious, she moaned in lust and squeezed her thighs around my foot.

I chuckled, and something broke in her then. She grabbed my raised leg and thrust herself against it!

I pulled my foot away, actually startled at her display. She really was a bitch!

She groaned in frustration, and one hand went to her breast, the other to her pussy.

“Stop that!” I slapped the desk to emphasise the point, and she jumped, and immediately put her hands back on her head. “And keep those thighs apart!”

She groaned in frustration. “Please, Derek – “

I slapped the desk, and she shut up. “Now, Lenora, I don’t think you should use that name anymore. What should you call me?”

She spoke quietly, timidly. “Mr Watkins?”

“That’s still a bit personal, don’t you think?” The thought of where I was leading her reminded me of my aching cock. I was surprised at my self-control. But it wouldn’t do to appear undisciplined.

She was thinking, and I saw the moment of realisation - her thighs twitched, as she almost clamped them together in lust. “I should call you Sir?”

I smiled. “Well done.” I saw the look of relief, of pleasure cross her features, closely followed by bewilderment. She really didn’t understand what she’d become.

“Sir, or Master,” I told her. “I’ll leave the choice up to you. Of course, sometimes I’ll expect one and not the other…” I enjoyed the helplessness on her face as the meaning of that statement sank in.

“Now, Lenora…. No, wait. Lenora. That’s not a very good name. Lena, Nora. No, I don’t like them I know. Slut. I’ll call you Slut. Is that acceptable, Slut?”

The look on her face was priceless. The realisation that once she’d have felt outrage, and now she could only feel humiliation, and frustrated lust. “Yes, Sir.” She shook as she spoke. I think she nearly came.

“Now, what was I saying. Ah yes. Slut, you haven’t treated me very well while have been here, have you. I think it’s time you made it up to me.”

Her chest was rising and falling lustily. She nodded, eagerly. She had some inkling of what I had in mind.

“On your knees. That’s right. Crawl to me. Unzip me. No, with your teeth. Ungh… That’s right, draw it out with your lips.”

She’d looked so frustrated when she realised what I wanted, that there would be no pleasure for her. But when she saw my cock, when she tasted it, she changed, sinking into and embracing her submission. Which was just as well, because with her lips sucking me into her mouth, I lost all self-control.

I had the feeling she didn’t do this kind of thing very often. She wasn’t very skilled, but she was eager, sucking, licking, and I didn’t last long. Barely a minute before I was spurting in her mouth.

I recovered in time to grab her hair and pull her back, so I could spill some semen on her face. I’m glad I did or I’d have missed seeing the look of bliss, of satisfaction on her face as she’d been milking my cock.

Then I let myself roll off the desk to the floor, and she curled up beside me, head in my lap, taking my wilting member into her mouth.

Whew! I thought to myself, and actually drifted off into a light sleep. I’d had more sex in the last 24 hours than in the last 24 days.

I woke to a beautiful sight. Slut was sitting next to me, looking down at me as I’d slept. She looked like she’d been crying again, for a different reason I soon learned. She was cupping her pussy with a hand. She spoke quietly. “I can’t get myself off, sir. I need… Please. Master.”

Jesus. It was real.

Then again… What if Slut was naturally submissive? What if she got drunk last night, and let her guard down? What if she’d kept me around because she somehow recognised that I was the kind of guy who’d take advantage of her given the chance? Maybe that’s why she kept pushing me, trying to provoke me into taking charge of her?

Why was it so hard to accept that genies existed?

I told myself the wishes were real. They had to be. But these wishes seemed to be deliberately contrived to appear as coincidence. It would be so much easier to accept if some scantily clad woman appeared out of smoke, waved a wand, and caused things to happen instantly. Maybe that’s what I should wish for as my next miracle?

A sound brought me out of my reverie. Slut gasped. “That’s the door bell, master. We have a customer!”

I leapt up, pulling my trousers up. “Get dressed and follow me.” I told her. As I ran out of the room I called back, “Leave the underwear off!”

“Lenny,” a woman’s voice called out. I recognised that voice. I closed the door behind me to find myself facing her. Professor Hailey Lucas. The middle aged university archaeologist who supplied us with the artefacts.

“Ah, Derek, isn’t it?” She moved to walk past me into the office. “I need to see Lenora on a matter of urgency.”

“She’s – she’s upstairs. She had an accident. She’s changing.”

“Oh, in that case I’ll wait in the workshop.” She knew her way around, and took long strides. She was an old bird, but still fit from all that fieldwork. I had to hurry to keep up.

“So what brings you here, Prof?” I said, watching her rummaging through exhibit boxes.

“A graduate student made a cataloguing error. We sent you a rather valuable artefact by mistake. Ah there it is.” And she picked up the bottle.

“No!” I shouted and grabbed it back from her nerveless fingers.

She had a look of stunned amazement on her face. “It spoke!” She said. “The legend is true!”

I backed away from her. Slut entered the room, putting on a false smile, and was about to make pleasantries but she sensed the tension.

Professor Lucas looked at me. “By god, you know. You haven’t used it? Tell me you haven’t used it!”

Fuck!

“She wants me for herself.” The voice was back. “She will try to gain your trust, and then destroy you. You have it in your power to deal with her.”

Fuck!

She was walking towards me. “Give it to me, Derek. It’s dangerous. It needs to be locked away.”

Fuck! What could I do? I had only had one wish left, and I didn’t want to waste it on making her forget this incident. But that wouldn’t work – other people knew about it. Maybe I could wish that everyone thought it lost long ago? Still that’s a waste.

I could make Lucas a slave. No - she’s an old hag. I could wish her she was a beautiful slave! That could work.

Professor Lucas was no fool. She saw the conflict on my face – she knew what I must be thinking about. She made her move.

“Lenora! Grab him, grab the jar!”

I whirled, shouting, “Slut, restrain the professor!” Then everything went black.

Lucas had been clever. She must have realised Slut was under my power. When I gave her orders, taking my attention of Lucas for just that instant, she’d grabbed a hammer and struck me with it.

But she was no fighter. It had been a glancing blow, enough to knock me to my knees. As I fell, in slow motion, I saw the bottle slip out of my grip and hit the ground beneath me. No!

But it didn’t shatter. It simply rolled aside. I was only stunned for a few seconds, but that was enough for Lucas to finish me off.

But the blow never came.

I looked up to see Slut, pinning the older professor to the ground beneath her.

I quickly grabbed the bottle and placed it well away from those two. Then I grabbed some cord and with Slut’s help, dragged the professor into the office. She was soon tied to the chair.

I went back for the bottle, putting it into a sack. It was staying with me from now on.

When I returned, Lucas was pleading with Slut to untie her, to disobey me. “I can’t, Hailey. He’s my master. I need him. The idea of disobeying him…. You can’t know what it’s like.”

I felt myself stiffen. In a good way.

“Well, professor,” I said, sitting on the desk. “You have some explaining to do.”

She looked pale and frightened. “Are you under its spell?”

“Under it’s spell? It’s a genie. It does what I tell it to.”

“It’s not a genie, it’s a demon!”

When I didn’t interrupt, she told her tale. “The legend associated with that urn claims that there were once seven great powers, demonic entities with the power to reshape reality. Some even greater power trapped each of them behind an enchanted seal – in this case the bottle. The legends of genies are just shadows, echoes of these earlier legends.

“The legend also says they can grant power to their owners, but as the owner accepts theses gifts, they fall deeper into the demon’s power and eventually become its slave. And then the slave is forced to release the demon, into a world unable to resist it. Can you imagine what that would mean?”

I considered what she claimed. “I’ve used the bottle twice, and I don’t feel any different. Have you noticed any difference, Slut?”

Lucas flinched at my mention of Slut’s name. Slut looked ashamed, looking away from Lucas. I could see in her eyes that my question frightened her. She was clear wondering how to answer, and finally shook her head. Clearly, I wouldn’t be able to rely on her judgement. I sighed loudly, signalling my intention to punish her later. She trembled in fear and lust.

But no, I wasn’t aware of any difference. Then again, if she was right – maybe it could hide changes in me from me? Though that seemed far-fetched.

I took the bottle out of the bag and asked it for its version of the truth.

“You are my owner. I grant you wishes. Nothing beyond that concerns me.”

Not very helpful. I’d expect a demon to be able to come up with a convincing counterargument.

“Professor Lucas. Say I believe you. Say I give you back the bottle. What happens to me, and my – er – slaves?

Lucas looked shifty. She said, “What’s happened has happened. We can’t undo that. But I can lock the urn away, and…”

She was looking at Slut, who’d dropped to her knees, and lowered her eyes. She was beautiful. I wanted her again.

Lucas was yapping again. “I’ve just remembered. In the legend it says that those who the magic has corrupted are under the demon’s spell. It can work through them.”

I quickly looked over at Slut. She didn’t look like she was listening. And she was doing nothing threatening. She was just rocking back and forth on her heels, her hands playing with the hem of her jacket. She probably wanted to get naked. She was no threat. Just hot.

The harridan was carping on again, distracting me from Slut. “Taking that into account… Once the bottle is safely locked away, we’ll clearly have to arrange psychiatric care for those that have been under its spell. If you haven’t used it on yourself, you’ll probably be okay. We can let you go.”

She had some nerve, I had to give her that. Acting as if she was in control. She was as bossy as Slut had once been. Maybe I should….

No, only one wish left. I needed to make it good. And she didn’t want me to use it on myself. But that could be a trick. The idea hadn’t occurred to me, and now that it had - it opened such possibilities! I could wish for something that affects other people in my presence, something that wouldn’t directly affect me. Say, the ability to make any woman I fancied my slave. Or any person… Wow!

“I wish…” No, wait. Would that affect people the same way as Slut? That could be embarrassing. It might be hard to keep things quiet. It needed some more fine-tuning.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

My probation officer, Adriana Romero, was standing in the doorway, her gun in hand. Why hadn’t the door bell gone off? As I looked startled at the statuesque Hispanic beauty, it occurred to me she’d make a great bodyguard slave. Strong, shapely, pretty enough if not beautiful.

Lucas shouted, “Shoot him! He’s got a weapon!” The conniving bitch!

I whirled, forgetting the dark bottle was still in my hand. A shot rang out, and I fell to the floor, fire spreading through my chest. It happened so quickly. It wasn’t fair!

Adrianna was standing above me, and looked shocked. “He had a gun! I saw it!” Then she crumpled to the ground. Behind her stood Daisy, a heavy antique clock in hand. What’s she doing here? I wondered weakly.

She knelt beside me and kissed me. “I love you, master. Heal yourself, so we can be together forever.” I felt my stomach twist.

It was true. The demon controlled her. It wanted me to use that last wish. It had Slut – no, wait, that wasn’t her name. What was it? Oh fuck. It did get to me somehow.

It made Slut call the probation officer. It must have made sure Daisy was on hand to disable the bell, and to take care of the officer when she wasn’t needed any more.

Maybe it hadn’t known things would turn out exactly like this. Maybe it had other backup plans… Maybe the professor wasn’t here by accident…

All this pressure to get me to use that last wish. And now, now I was dying. And the demon was going to win. I was going to die and then Daisy or Slut would take the bottle and release the demon.

Lucas was saying something. She seemed so far away. “The demon’s servants can’t use its power. And they still have to obey you. Tell them to release me! Then send them away. I’ll take – take care of the bottle.”

Was that a slip? Did she want the bottle for herself?

Daisy was kissing me: “Don’t listen to her. Heal yourself?” She slipped her tongue into my mouth, clumsily, shyly, guilelessly - exactly as the uncorrupted Daisy would have done. I groaned in lust and despair, wanting her, even as I knew this thing wasn’t her anymore. I could never have her now! What had I done? I felt tears on my cheeks. I had destroyed such innocence.

Then my trousers were being loosened and Slut’s mouth was working on my treacherously erect member.

Daisy wiped my tears, and looked at my knowingly. It was her voice, and not her voice. “You know. They always figure it out at the end. You can still have her. Daisy. It won’t really be her, but it’ll be all that remains. It’ll be a good enough fantasy that you’ll be able to fool yourself. Most days.

“I give you my word that whatever happens to the rest of the world, the two of you, and – what the hell, I’m in a generous mood – a few others of your choosing, will be able to live out the rest of your natural life in a paradise of your creation. I know you may doubt my sincerity but believe me: the one thing my kind cannot do is break our Words. That is why we are still trapped behind these seals – bound by the power of our own Word.”

I did believe it. But that could have been it’s magic in my mind. It didn’t really matter. I was dying. The way Slut was working it, I was going to go out on a climax. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go, my life sucked out through my cock…

I decided that I’d just let myself die. As I lay there, the light faded, the world shrank away to nothing. The only sensation remaining was the mouth around my pulsing, throbbing heart.

Would the slaves die with me? Would they kill the professor first? Or Romero? Maybe not. Whether the Professor or Romero live or die, someone would find this bloodbath. They’d find the bottle. Could they resist the temptation? Only the Professor knew the danger, and I had my doubts about her. (Or was that a thought of the demon?)

The genie was truly out of the bottle.

Aahhh, Slut, getting so hard, so hard to think.

I couldn’t feel my body anymore, except for the throbbing, pulsing, and Slut’s wet sucking mouth. A tiny tunnel of light, shrinking, shrinking.

Or I could heal myself and maybe live out a life of luxury, isolated from whatever horrors this monster unleashed on the world.

There had to be another way. Why did I care? Daisy. I couldn’t feel it, but I knew my eyes were leaking. I’d destroyed her. This bastard had made ME destroy her. It was going to BURN.

Could I wish it gone? Wish the demon banished? Could it be that simple?

Fuck, Slut, when did you learn to be such a great cocksucker?

“I wish…” Yes, the demon was urging. That’s it.

“I wish I had all of the demon’s power.”

Silence.

I expected to feel something.

And then it came, the magic of Slut’s mouth – I was coming, bursting, exploding.

It’s not every day you save the world.

But was this one of those days?

I pushed the bullet out of the wound, and willed my shoulder healed. I sat up, and looked at the people in Lorena’s office as if for the first time. I could see. The swirling web of particles and possibilities, a cloud expanding out from the parole officer and the professor into the future and the past. I could see the things they had done, the people they had been. And the things they might do, the people they might become - and what they just might become with a little careful nudging.

But of Daisy and Lenora, there was only one future path, that of service. I hugged them to me, and thought for a moment of the lives they might have had, the life I might have had with Daisy, the life Lenora would have had without me.

It was better this way. They were my children. And more pertinently, they were mine.

The professor. Hailey Lucas was looking terrified. “So he did it? You’re free.”

“Yes. And No. I didn’t understand the nature of the demon. The only way it could grant me its power was to become me. Or for me to become it. I can feel it, inside me, around me. But its sentience, its essence, is far greater than mine, too great for the human mind to contain. I can tap into only a part of its power.

“So in a sense, I have become for it another prison. If I were ever to die, though…”

I wondered about that. Could I die? There was much to learn.

I turned to leave, with an arm around each slave. But I was getting ahead of myself. There were two things I had to do first.

“Professor, let me release you.”

Hailey nodded before she realised what she’d done.

“I grant your wish,” I said and flicked my fingers. The cord around her crumbled to dust. Now that’s how it’s done, I thought. I watched her web of future possibilities flicker and shift, and saw around a third of them merge into a single line, a line leading to me.

Hailey cried in terror, “No! I take it back! That’s not fair!”

I laughed without malice. “You can’t take it back. But fear not. I owe you a favour. I would not be here now if you hadn’t turned up.”

Hmm. I wondered now if she was part of the demon’s plan. Is this what it had intended all along? Was the entity too great for our world to contain, without such limits?

But there was no sense wondering about such things. Things are as they are.

It was time to repay a debt. I pulled Hailey to me and kissed her. She struggled futilely, for two or three seconds, and then her body melted against me, welcoming me. I reached into her mind and body, renewing dying cells and recharging – and enhancing - her libido. I probably gave her an extra thirty years of youthful life.

While I was there, I took the opportunity to smooth out some of those pesky inhibitions. I had promised to release her, after all. There was a limit to what I could do there, given the paltry gift she’d asked of me, but it should be enough to liven up those coming thirty years.

I released her and admired my handiwork. She’d been a trim, athletic, old bird, and now her friends would think she’d given into vanity and gotten herself a facelift. The best facelift they’d ever seen – but not so good they’d think it impossible. They’d also think she’d had a breast augmentation – I’d always been a sucker for boobs. There was no need for that to change now that I was… whatever I was.

Hailey collapsed to her knees, overwhelmed by the surge of half-forgotten sensations flooding through her revitalised body. But she’d recover quickly. That was another little touch. And once recovered, she was going to be very popular on campus - with faculty and students alike.

I knew I’d see her again. She’d have to come after me. To hunt or to serve, only time would tell.

I slung the unconscious body of the parole officer over my shoulder. When I’d still been human, Adriana Romero had ridden me hard. Too hard. And, of course, she shot me. Without hesitation. So there was a debt to pay.

And then we, my slaves and I, walked off into my new life, into your world. It’s a big place, full of wonders. Maybe you’ll bump into me. Maybe when you’re down on your luck, when others have deserted you, and you need a friend, I’ll be there – the kind stranger, the good Samaritan with the helping hand. I won’t ask for anything in return. Helping you out is all the reward I need. You’ll pay me back later. It’s like karma. All you need to do is accept my gift. What could be simpler than that?

Be seeing you.