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Genie 1.0
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Genie 1.0
Warning: this story has some (not a lot) of sexual content.
I'm a thirty year old male (I don't flatter myself with the term
man) and have had a very active, if not very imaginative, fantasy life
for nearly all my life. When I was young, I used to picture myself in
the roles of my heros: Robin Hood, He-Man, Dr. Doom, Superman, even
Godzilla. As you can see, these figments of popular fiction had the one
thing I most certainly lacked--power. Their boundries, whether it be for
heroic acts, acts of strenth or intellect, or mere destructive power,
were nearly unlimited. For a young boy of my mediocre abilities,
imagining myself without boundries was heady stuff indeed.
As I got older and more and more awkward with the onset of that
horrible time called puberty, when all your instincts tell you to do
things that your upbringing has not prepared you in the least to do, my
fantasy life, quite predictably, took on sexual elements. No longer was
it enough to perform heroic acts in my mind; I must perform heroic acts
in my mind for one of the beauties in whatever class I was sitting,
earning, of course, the hero's reward. Great feats of strength,
intellect, or destructive power were now geared to the fullfillment of my
purile adolescent fantasies, which was as it should have been.
I was not, throughout junior high and high school, the most
popular of children. In fact, I might have been considered one of those
rare boys whom both the jocks and the nerds, as well as every girl
concerned at all with the opinions of others (in other words, every girl)
despised. I don't believe it was because of my looks, which although
plain, were not particularly repulsive. Nor do I believe it was through
any intellectual defect, since, although I was no genius, school came
reasonably easy to me. It is, to this day, like so much of the
interactions between human beings, inexplicable to me why I was so
reviled.
It does not matter, for it was so, and it drove me ever deeper
into my fantasy life. One of my favorite fantasies, one which I would
replay over and over again in my mind, was the Genie in the Bottle
fantasy. Simply, I, through luck or need or the righting of the cosmic
balance, would receive or come upon an old, elaborite bottle which
contained a Genie. Out pops the Genie, male or female or ether depending
upon my mood, ready to grant me the three wishes every Genie seems to
have stored away in some cosmic pool of wonder. Of course, as every boy
knows, Genies are apt to play unfairly, delighting in twisting every
innocent sounding wish into something to torment the wisher. No, in my
fantasy it was not safe merely to wish for something from my Genie; I
must, through torturous mental application, frame my wishes so exactly,
with multitudes of conditions and exceptions, that sometimes I failed to
complete even one wish before the real world rudely pulled me away from
the attainment of my fondest desires.
These desires were, without saying, mundane in the most extreme
sense: wealth, power, and the adoration of men and women, especially
women. I thought up thousands of ways to frame these wishes, and
imagined thousands of ways in which I could enjoy their fruits. It was
all rather pathetic, I know, but I was young and unpopular, a curse worse
than any witch or demon or goblin ever placed on some poor upright soul
in all the literature in the world. So that was the state of things as I
entered college, grateful to escape the reality of high school and hoping
to make new, or any, friends, and especially looking forward to my first
sexual experience, since everyone knew college girls were easy.
College, sadly, did not turn out to be the social bonanza I was
hoping for. That black cloud over my head, that evil mojo that I could
not shake, that unknown quantity or quality which I possessed, followed
me to my new society, subtly alienating everyone around me until I was
left as I had always been left, alone with my fantasies. Although it was
something I was used to, it was nonetheless a terrible blow; I had raised
my hopes so high, believed so much, that a new place would mean a new me,
that I was devastated when it turned out to be untrue. I felt betrayed,
cast out, worthless.
It was in this state I spent the first two years of my college
existence, with only my increasingly complex fantasy life sustaining me.
Now I was President or Governer or had Mental Powers or wielded some
other great amount of power in some other way, and slowly revenge
elements creeped into my fantasy world. No longer was it enough to save
the world from nuclear annihilation and recieve the gratitude of the
world's supermodels, now I had also to crush some insignificant bug, some
horrible person who I imagined had looked at me funny as he passed me on
the street, grinding him beneath my heel before I could truly enjoy my
rewards. Even my purely sexual fantasies took on a violent edge: I
would be a martial artist fighting some ninja master evil woman,
beautiful but deadly, who sat in one of my classes but refused to look
in my direction; I would defeat her after grueling combat and force
myself upon her sexually, punishing her for not wanting me. In my
fantasy, of course, although they fought tooth and nail, they all ended
up loving it and begging to remain with me as my love slave. More purile
sexual fantasies, I know, but remember, I was twenty years old and still
a virgin; I had no idea what I was fantasizing about.
All that changed one night shortly before my twenty first
birthday, because I finally, my wildest (well, my most realistic
actually) dreams coming true, got lucky. Lucky is the operative word,
you must understand, since as I thought about it later I realized I, for
once in my life, had been in the right place at the right time. The
right place and the right time was walking down frat row on a Thursday
evening, coming home from a long day of fantasizing at the student
library and trying to dodge all the drunken, partying students who
frequented that area at that time. Luckily (there's that word again) I
couldn't avoid three drunked sorority girls who were staggering down the
sidewalk towards me.
It may help to show the depths to which I had sunk to say that I
hardly noticed the girls except as obstructions to my journy homeward,
even though they were, I will say, quite attractive and dressed very
provocatively in high heels, mini skirts, and spandex tops. To continue
my story, I was walking down the sidewalk, lost in my fantasies, when a
commotion up ahead distracted me and caught my attention; the commotion
was the three girls, the two on the outside laughing and staggering a
joshing the girl between them. More obstacles, I thought, and began to
make my way unobtrusively around them, only, to my great shock, to be
stopped by a feminine hand on my upper arm.
I turned, quite discomfited, and faced a tall, slim, attractive
bleached blond sorority girl, who happened to be raging drunk and
gripping my arm firmly. I remember what happened next quite vividly,
although I am sure my memory has adjusted certain parts to suit my own
particular self image.
"Hey," she said to me, "my friend here" and she nodded to the
shapely brunette girl she and her friend were bodily holding up between
them, and who looked at me happily drunk, "my friend here" she repeated,
"needs a little company." They all giggled and laughed at that. "Come on,"
she said and started tugging on my arm, meaning for me to follow her.
This had to be one of the most terrifying events in my life to
that date, and I followed in a state of shock and not a little bit of
dismay; I didn't seem to realize that all I had to do to escape was use a
little strength to pull my arm from the girl holding it and walk briskly
away. Besides, these were WOMEN, and having never been the object of
anything but negative attention from the female of the species, I was
overwhelmed by what appeared to me to be very positive attention, or, at
the least, soon to be very postive attention.
I was not wrong in my estimation: staggering and laughing, they
dragged me, staggering and stunned, into a frat house, through the mob
dancing and cavorting to a sound deafening even when compared to the
noise of a jet engine, and upstairs into a bedroom. Once there, her two
friends threw the brunette against me, making sure, I am now convinced,
that her momentum would carry us crashing onto the bed. In that
seemingly eternal second between the time she staggered into me and the
time we landed together onto the bed, I felt for the first time the
utterly unique sensation of a female grasping and groping my entire body
while similtaneously trying to press her lips full against mine, her
boozy breath strong in my nostrils and her luscious body squirming
against my very, very stiff one.
Once on the bed it was only a short while before her mini-skirt
was bunched around her waist and my pants and underwear (she wasn't
wearing any, much to my surprise and delight) were around my knees. Her
friends must have been watching us as we squirmed around together on the
bed, her intoxicated state combining with my total inexperience to, I'm
sure, make quite an amusing sight, but I, lost as I was by now in a
sexual fog, did not care; all I cared about was finding the right hole in
which to place my throbbing member, which is, for a novice, much harder
than it sounds. My fumbling did not upset my partner; on the contrary,
she giggled and reached down and put me inside her. Once firmly in place
I had no more trouble, and started humping like a rabid jackrabbit that
has discovered that it has only a few more minutes to live, and is
determined to get the most out of that little time.
Like that jackrabbit, I am afraid to say, that little death came
quickly upon me, and as I lay soft and spent upon my brunette lover, I
was overcome with a sense of reality. The three girls combined to roll
me off the girl and left, leaving me to face the ugly consequences of my
actions; now that I had satisfied my formerly never before satisfied
lust, I realized what a small and pitiful thing it was, how demeaned and
degraded it had made me. I quickly pulled up my pants to cover up my
shame and walked home as fast as my legs could carry me, thinking that
everyone I passed saw what a pitiful and malignant creature I truly was,
and that was not the last of my worries: what if I had caught some
horrible venerial disease from that girl? My mind recounted the
thousands of miserable possibilities, all including various grotesque
deformities, and for once I hated my overactive imagination.
In the final analysis, my experience with those three drunken
sorority girls left me with one, and only one (no, it was not a vd, thank
god), thing, a deep abiding sense of disillusionment. I had been, up to
that point in my life, a romantic; all my fantasies, revenge laced as
they may have been, saw good triumphing over evil and saw sex as a
glorious experience of pleasure and binding. Reality, I now realized,
was completely different, with sex being a gross, ugly distortion of the
way I had imagined it should be; no, not only imagined, but demanded it
should be. The next few months, needless to say, were unhappy times for
me; with this conclusion, I must revise my thinking, and say that my
encounter with these girls was far from lucky--unlucky would be more
correct.
In this state of depression and disillusionment I spent my twenty
first birthday like I seem to have spent most of my birthdays, alone, but
this time with a twist, since I had decided to go out and do something on
this particular day. So my birthday found me wandering along a sandy
stretch of ground abutting the ocean, desolutely kicking at the surf
which flowed over my bare feet. At some point during this listless
ambulation, a madness of a sort grasped me in its vicious claws, and I
decided to take my own life, and what could be better, my mind, now my
enemy, said to me: here's the ocean, waiting to carry you back to the
sweet oblivion of the womb, of eternal sleep.
My body, obeying the traitorous commands of my mind, turned to
carry me out to sea, to a gasping, painful death below the waves,
deprived of the precious air that is life. It was then that the divine
intervened, for how can I explain what happened then except to say that
God or some gods willed it to be so? I stumbled over something lying in
the surf, and when I looked down to see what had delayed me in my search
for Nirvana, all thoughts of death fled my mind: I beheld the stuff of
my dreams, an elaborately blown glass bottle, opaquely reddish and
stoppered firmly with a cork swollen by the salten waters of the ocean.
I bent down to pick it up, my heart fluttering within my rib cage
as my mind strove against itself to bury my fantasies under the reality
of the world: there were no such things as genies, this was only an old
piece of junk which washed up on the beach at an opportune time, but I
did not believe. There would be, I believed with all my heart as I
struggled manfully to pull the cork from the bottle, a genie in this
bottle, a genie capable of granting me my every wish. Imagine my
surprise when I finally managed to pull out the cork and was greeted by a
booming voice.
"FREE, FREE AT LAST!"
From my position on my ass I saw the air coelesce before me into
the form of a giant bald head attached to an enormous barrel chest ending
in a wisp of smoke.
"AHAHA," the voice boomed some more, sending me deeper into
shock, "THANK YOU OH MORTAL FOR RELEASING ME FROM MY PRISON." It gazed
down on me, a huge broad smile on its insubstantial face. I rubbed my
eyes and looked again--it did not disappear; instead, its smoky substance
seemed to flow into a different form, until it stood before me as a
naked, sexless, hairless manaquin with bulging muscles and bright,
shining eyes. I scrambled to my feet in time to meet his bow as he spoke
one more time.
"HOW CAN I REPAY YOU, BREAKER OF THE MIGHTY SPELLS WHICH BOUND
ME? THE STANDARD THREE WISHES, PERHAPS?"
I had gone insane, I was convinced, although I much prefered this
madness to the one which sought to take my life. There was nothing for
me to do, though, except play along with my torturous mind, which was so
willing for me to see my fantasies finally come to life.
"Okay," I said boldly, "three wishes. My first wish is..." and
then I began to detail, in great depth, how I would aquire great, in fact
nearly boundless, wealth, using all the experience of my fantasies to
insure that there were no loopholes available for this nearly all
powerful being to twist my meaning into a curse. The genie listened
patiently for five minutes before interupting.
"HAHAHAHAHA! OH PUNY MORTAL WORM. DO YOU THINK I WOULD CARE TO
TRICK YOU? DO YOU THINK IF YOU ASKED FOR UNIMAGINABLE WEALTH I WOULD
GIVE YOU GOLD WHICH NO ONE WOULD TAKE BECAUSE THEY COULD NOT IMAGINE IT
EXISTING? HAHAHAHAHA! I AM A SPIRIT OF THE ETHER! THE VAST BOUNDLESS
SKY IS MY DOMAIN! I WAS BORN TWIN TO THE UNIVERSE AND WILL LAST UNTIL
SPACE AND TIME COLLAPSE UPON THEMSELVES! ONLY THE GREATEST, MOST
TERRIBLE SPELLS OF YOUR RACE OF DUST COULD EVEN CAPTURE ME FOR AN
INSTANT! WHAT CARE I FOR YOU OR YOUR PUNY DESIRES? THEY ARE YOURS.
ASK! AND THE WORLD WILL BE YOURS!"
I don't want you to think that I believed him for a second, even
though what he said turned out to be absolutely true, but I decided that
if, in my madness, I had created a genie which said he was not going to
try to trick me, then I was going to believe him; why doubt my own mind?
"Okay, then first I want unlimited wealth."
"DONE!" the genie roared.
I looked around me, hoping perhaps for a huge pile of gold to
materialize from thin air, or for hundred dollar bills to fall from the
sky, or any other sign of miraculous powers revealing themselves to me,
making me instantly a rich man, but nothing had changed. "Well...?" I
asked accusingly to the genie; I began wondering why my madness had failed
me now, just when I had begun to become interested in this little game I
was playing with myself.
"LOOK IN YOUR WALLET, OH CREATURE OF DUST AND ASHES!"
I pulled my wallet from my pocket and gazed into the billfold,
wondering if it would now produce endless cash; I was disappointed when
all I saw was two fives and a one dollar bill stuffed where I had put
them, crumpled up into one side of the billfold. I was about to turn
back to the genie and ask him what he was talking about when my eyes fell
upon a thin piece of colored paperboard which I immediately recognized as
a lottery ticket. So I had been given a winning lottery ticket, I
thought, and although properly impressed, I was also most certainly
disappointed, for the million or so dollars this ticket would bring was
nothing compared to the amount of wealth I had actually requested.
Holding the ticket I turned back to the genie and made ready to
speak, but he, perhaps seeing the expression on my face, spoke before I
could, saying, "AH, MORTAL, THAT IS ONLY PART OF YOUR FIRST WISH.
AWAITING YOU AT HOME IS A MESSAGE FROM A FAMOUS FINANCIAL ADVISOR, WHO
WILL TURN THAT PALTRY AMOUNT YOU HOLD IN YOUR HAND INTO UNBELIEVABLE
SUMS, TRULY UNLIMITED AMOUNTS, OF WEALTH. ARE YOU SATISFIED, OH LOW ONE
IN THE SCHEME OF THE UNIVERSE?"
I had to say I was, if everything the figment of my imagination
said was true; of course, I believed that in a few moments I would
probably wake up face down in the sand with a rather nasty concussion of
some sort, or maybe I was dying and my mind was hiding behind this
childhood myth. At any rate, I did not care; I was having fun.
My next wish, since I, although only twenty one, was feeling my
age, being of a rather morbid and introspective turn of mind, was for
immortality fixed at the age of twenty six (an arbitrary pick of ages,
really, since I did not see too many differences between the ages twenty
four through thirty).
"DONE! OH MOST WORTHLESS OF CREATURES IN THIS COSMOS."
I must make a comment before I continue this story: I was, by
this time, growing quite tired of the attitude this being, which anyway
was only a temperary chemical imbalance in my brain, was taking toward
me, calling me worm and worthless and dust. Since, though, he was giving
me everything I had ever wanted in life, I decided to put up with it,
knowing that he would take off after he granted my last wish, which was
the ability to control the minds and bodies of others.
"OH HO HO, OH KING OF WORMS, YOUR FINAL WISH IS GRANTED. I WISH
YOU FARE WELL AND WILL SEE YOU AT THE END OF TIME." With those final
words, the genie shot off into the air at an amazing speed and soon
disappeared from sight. At this time I fully expected to come back to my
senses, for the lottery ticket to have disappeared from my hand and for
reality to have set back in. I had had my fun, and now it was time to
get back to real life; it came as a shock then, when I looked down at my
hand and still found it holding a lottery ticket. A little bit dazed, I
put it in my back pocket and began to wander back toward my car, lost
deep in thought about what had just happened to me and wondering if it
could actually be true or if it was just a figment of my imagination,
like I had believed, but was beginning to doubt.
My revere was rudely interupted by the sounds of laughter and
giggling down the shoreline, and I looked up to see a man and a woman,
he wearing a bathing suit with his chest bare and she wearing a one piece
bathing suit with a sarong wrap around her waist, walking toward me in
the distance, talking and laughing and generally carrying on. It was, I
know, petty for me to become annoyed at these two human beings, even if
he reminded me, with his bulging physique and dull expression, of every
jock I had ever despised and she reminded me, with her long bleached
blond hair and her small, pretty nose and splattering of freckles, of all
the women who had ever tormented me in my retiring nature.
Annoyed I did become, though, and instantly decided that I would
now discover whether or not the genie had actually granted me my third
wish, or if I really had been imagining things. To this end, I
concentrated hard and imagined that the young man was peeing his pants;
while I was so engaged, I felt the strangest sensations: underneath my
surface thoughts, my brain, or rather unknown subteranean thoughts,
seemed to move, sluggishly at first, pushing this way and that,
gaining speed and precision, until I imagined my mind was the innards of
an intricate watch, going <clickity clack> as it set my desires into
motion. This feeling lasted only a moment, and I stood amazed as I
watched the man I was concentrating on freeze, gaze down at himself in
amazement, curse, look around in dismay, and then dash off into the
ocean. The woman was calling out to him what was wrong, what was the
matter, and I, in my amazement at what I had accomplished, decided I
would see what else my newfound power could do.
<Clickity clack, clickity clickity clack> my mind went as I tried
to speak directly to her mind, informing her that her companion had just
peed in his own pants, and somehow I knew that I had transfered this
information, that she now knew what I had meant her to know, but knew as
if she had just come to the conclusion herself. I continued <clickity
clack> and thought that it made her hot to imagine him pissing, pissing
on her, over her naked body, into her mouth, down her nose, all over her;
in fact, I thought, it made her so hot she was going to orgasm just
thinking about it. As I watched, I knew just what she was thinking, for
I had put it in her mind, and I saw her stop, her hand fluttering down to
her groin area, and squeeze her legs together and slightly bend over at
the waist, and I knew she was coming, just as I had mentally told her
to.
Oh joy of joys, I thought, it was all true, all my dreams and
fantasies had come true that day, and my life would be changed forever
for the better, but I was not done with the woman yet, for now my
sadistic side came out, wanting revenge for all the slights of my
childhood and adolescence; I placed in her mind <clickity clack> that she
loved being peed on, that every time a warm stream of uring struck her
body she would grow excited and achieve incredible orgasms, that she
would beg her boyfriends to pee on her, and would not be satisfied with
sex, would never orgasm, unless it involved this bodily fluid streaming
over her body. I walked away more than satisfied with myself, and
anticipating, really anticipating, my new life for eternity, with
unlimited wealth and everybody in the entire world doing just exactly
what I wanted when I wanted it.
I will skip over the next few days in which, practicing with my
newfound powers, I visited endless petty and mundane revenges upon people I
didn't even know, but who had, by dint of their existence, somehow
reminded my of my alienation and worthlessness. Perhaps I should not say
worthlessness, since my financial advisor had taken money I did not yet
possess and magically created more money from it, until I was, within a
few short days, the possessor of a fund of ever increasing wealth, which
seemed unlimited in its growth potential.
Finally, though, I screwed up my courage and decided it was time
to get up close and personal, in a way that I had experienced only one
very unsatisfactory time before; in other words, I was determined to use
my powers to possess a woman of my choice for an afternoon. Perhaps,
though, I should not use the word woman, for women, even though I was now
rich and nearly all powerful, still intimidated me in the most extreme
fashion, to the point where I would find it difficult to talk when one
was near; therefore, I decided to visit a junior high school (the area in
which I lived had one college, one high school, and three junior high
schools, one of which was private), the private one, during their lunch
time, where I would choose a young girl to satisfy my lusts without
making me nervous as to my status as a man. I must say that, by this
time, I was no longer concerned with my school work, for I was now an
immensely wealthy man; besides, I could control the minds and bodies of
others--what need had I for an education?
I arrived at the school just as the students were being let out
for lunch, and watched as their thin legs sent them streaming across the
fenced in campus, their little voices high and loud piercing the air with
a caucaphany of sound. I stood and watched the girls at play, eating,
talking, laughing, waiting patiently for one to strike my fancy, and
finally one did: she was as delicate as the pedal of a flower, and as
innocent as a young dove, and I knew I had to have her. Looking back, I
now see that the main reason I was so instantly attracted to this small,
thirteen year old chinese girl was that she looked so much like a young
boy, with her boyish face and hips and walk and her short bob of a hair
cut, that she both appealed to the streak of narcissism which ran through
me and failed to threaten me in the way that all other women seemed to do.
Once I saw her, I certainly did not waste any time: immediately
my mind went <clickity clack, clickity clack> and instantly the girl knew
that she had met me yesterday (untrue) and liked me quite a bit, so much
so in fact that she had agreed to meet me at my apartment, whose location
she now knew, directly after school; she also knew that she was not even
going to hint about what she was going to be doing to anyone, but she was
looking forward to the meeting with great excitement, as well as a
certain amount of sexual longing. Imminently satisfied with my work, I
lingered a few moments, fixing the image of my soon to be lover firmly in my
mind, before returning home and waiting expectantly for my little chinese
beauty to arrive.
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