“You’re not serious.” The genie started at him incredulously. In three thousand years no-one had ever asked for this. Oh they had wished for sex, but always with the Sultana, or Pamela Anderson or their best friend’s wife or whatever unobtainable goddess they’d had in mind before they stumbled on the magic ring she called home. They never had so much as a second glance for the skinny dark-haired girl who would make it all happen for them.
“Perfectly serious,” the man replied. “I’ve got my youth and vitality back and all the money I could want. Now I want somebody to share it with, at least for a little while. Besides, I’ve heard the stories. There’s always some catch with these deals, some moral lesson you’re supposed to get out of it. It never works out if all the wishes are totally selfish.”
The genie looked at the silken bondage ropes he held.
“You know, in the Aladin’s last wish was to free the genie, not tie her up,” she said suspiciously.
“You’ll be free to go at any time if you want to. I’m just banking on you not wanting to.”
He cleared his throat and said solemnly “I wish for you to stay with me as long as you’re enjoying yourself.”
The genie looked over his newly restored, nineteen year old body, her gaze lingering on his crotch where his trousers had formed a tent big enough to house a whole tribe of Bedouin.
Inspired by this pendant by GwenDelicious