If Wishes... Ch. 01-02

"Tell me, lovely one. How many mortals have perished at your delicate hands?"

"Directly or indirectly, my great master?"

"Both together." She paused for a moment; though not much of a thinker, as with all Djinni, she had a prodigious memory.

"Forty-three thousand, eight hundred and eleven, master. The majority during the second razing of Ur."

I was stunned at the number. So many! Those she had slain could populate a significant portion of Egypt! I could scarcely imagine so many people, and they were her victims. There was no further question that she could not be allowed to roam free, even under my control, loose as it was. And yet, I have always abhorred waste...

Some will call me a fool for not destroying her in that instant. They were not looking at her, burning from her touch. Men throughout the ages have risked their lives and souls for a mere mortal fuck; how was I to resist an immortal one?

"Lay back there, where you are, lovely one," I said. "In the air." She leaned back in her invisible seat in the air, teasingly shifting her waistcloth to give me just a hint of what it hid, and pushed up her breasts between her arms.

"And, my master? What else may I do for you?" she asked coquettishly. I had, however, reached my limits. There are limits to a man's patience, to his manners, and to the amount of lust that he can contain without bursting. Reaching the end of the first does, regrettably, tend to erase the former two rather thoroughly.

"Obey, sweet one," I said, my smile as yet unchanged, even as frenzy took me. I had shed my shefti as soon as the decision had been made, which was rather quick without the rope that had held it up previously, and I took a firm grip on her waistcloth to pull it aside and leave it as a useful handle for her lovely hips, though they themselves made fine handles already. Plunging into her, it was everything a man could dream of the perfect eager virgin magnified; the tightness, the heat, so that had she not been dripping wet already I doubt I could have consummated my lust. Yet even as my lust drove me onward, that emptiness within me, in that uncertain place... hungered. It was as though my soul had grumbled, akin to an empty stomach. And so it was not even consciously that I took my first sips of her power, drinking just enough to whet my appetite, yet not enough to change myself without and within. My own muscles, never very impressive with a scribe's habits, took a new shine and power, lending new power to my thrusts within her. My cock, which was very nearly the centre of my being at that moment, grew as well, thickening and lengthening until it was half the size of my forearm to my disbelieving eyes. Beyond all else, though, the power itself flowed through me, the strength of the world. Already in frenzy, I thrust into her yet harder, wishing to take every bit of pleasure I could from her; slapping her magnificent breasts to relish their jiggle, pulling her hair back so that I could reach her perfect throat with my teeth and tongue, raking my nails along her flanks.

I burst within her, leaving me utterly unsated, even as the pleasure that rocked through me was more powerful than anything I had known before. Wanting, needing more, I drank more deeply of her power, enough that her skin's blue faded slightly, and it burned within me. I withdrew from her, followed by a flood of the seed that I had placed within her. Her own scream of orgasm had matched my own, and she looked dazed, distant in the aftermath.

I slapped her cheek with an open hand, returning her to the present, and with just a twist of my stolen power, let that slap twist her in the air until she was now face down, bent over an invisible pillow, baring her lovely ass to me. Lost now to all reason, I gestured to the air and it filled my hand with a flogger in soft black leather. I slashed it down upon her back and buttocks, lashing marks across her in dark purple, and her screams told me that another orgasm was following her last. With the fiftieth stroke by my count, as for some reason I could not help but keep track, she came again, writhing and thrashing upon her invisible perch, and it was as she did so that I took my new manhood in one hand, her braided blue hair in the other, and thrust myself into that lovely ass of hers. Her scream choked off into gasps and shudders as I pounded away without concern for her, my flogger stroking across her back as I took her perfect ass. It was with the flogger's end held in my other hand, the two together holding it tight across her throat, that I came, and even as her eyes rolled back in her head, so too did she. Throughout it all, I had continued to drink of her power, until in the end, after the final orgasm had taken us both and I had collapsed to the alleys floor, she was as translucent as a mirage. Only then did she appear to realize that anything had taken place.

"My... my master?" she asked uncertainly. I had no answer for her other than a shrug.

"My apologies," I said, though I will admit that it was likely not particularly sincere, as I had not forgotten that whole "spend a millennium in my stomach" initial plan, and I drank the last of that eldritch fire that was her power. She still looked more sated and uncertain than anything else as she dissolved into the wind that forever blew from the desert, back into the desert again. I think many would argue that it was a fate far better than she had deserved, given her proclivities. Still, what good is it to brood?

"Perhaps," I said to myself as I rose and my clothes dressed me, "it will be less difficult than I had feared to explain this to lovely Bekhat."

But I was, as has been said, no fool, and I knew that hunger is a wolf that always returns...

End Chapter Two

SLH