In-Genie-Us!

Brad looked as if he were trying to ignore Gene's vapid simpering, but Shanaya thought she saw a muscle in his eye start to twitch. "So how long will you be away at the bachelor party?" she asked, in an effort to preserve Gene's life.

"Four days," he replied shortly. "Leave tomorrow, back Sunday night."

Four days, she thought to herself, picking up the menu and staring at it sightlessly. Four days to have Gene change me into a man, seduce my best friend, stop her marriage, and alter reality enough that I live the rest of my life with a dick and a set of balls.

"A bachelor party? How delightfully bohemian!" Gene leaned forward, his chin cupped in his hands. "And it will be you and all of your buff, manly friends? Oh, please take me with you!"

"Sorry, man." The twitch was growing more pronounced. "Wedding party only."

"Oh." He flounced back into his seat. Shanaya put a warning hand on his arm. Allison, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying her boyfriend's discomfiture, if her merrily dancing eyes were any indication. She hoped Gene would cool it. It was not out of the realm of possibility, she thought uneasily, for Brad to call some of his friends to kick the shit out of Gene on general principles, to say nothing of the way his flirting was getting under his skin. Mayfield wasn't exactly Louisville when it came to people's willingness to see gays and lesbians as real people with rights of their own.

Luckily, Gene seemed to catch her hint, because he left off his incessant baiting of Brad and focused on Allison. Her lovely friend seemed flattered by the attention, and soon the air was ringing with their laughter. Shanaya smiled to see her so happy, her blue eyes sparkling and her sweet, mobile face like a stream under the sun - always the same, ever changing. She sighed, her heart aching, as Allison chattered away about the wedding and the honeymoon and a cute little house that she had seen yesterday that would be so much nicer than the apartment that Brad was living in, and was perfect for a baby.

"She's mine, you know."

The words were low, but full of sneering hostility. Her head jerked to Brad, who had torn his attention away from his plate of chicken wings and the baseball game.

"I know what you want. And you're never going to get it." He leaned forward, picking at his teeth with a thumbnail. "You could strip down naked right in front of her, and she wouldn't ever notice. Of course," he said nastily, running his eyes across her body contemptuously, "most men wouldn't either. Is that why you decided to go lesbo? Because men wouldn't touch you with a stick?

"Hey," he smirked. "I heard a good one yesterday. Why do Indian women have a red dot on their foreheads?" He didn't wait for an answer, guffawing loudly. "It's so after the wedding, their husbands can scratch it off and find out if they won a gas station or a hotel!"

And that, she decided in an uncharacteristic flare of rage, entitles you to no mercy at all. Gods in heaven, I'm going to enjoy taking Allison away from you.

"Better be careful," she replied instead, hiding the spike of fury with the ease of long practice. Brad wasn't the first racist she had met in her life. Or the first redneck shitheel who thought women 'decided' to become lesbians. "Aren't you worried about Allison finding someone else while you're chasing skirts in Cabo? I'm sure there's lots of men who would be happy to take your place. Not that it would take much, if what I hear is true."

"In your dreams. Face it, Shanaya. No matter how much you close your eyes and hope I go away, I'm marrying her in three weeks. And once we're living together, I'm sure that Allie will have more important things to do than to hang out with you. Give up. It's over. I won. You lost."

*****

"All right," Gene said. "I'll do it."

Shanaya rubbed her temples. So gracious of you to agree, she thought. It's not as if you have a choice, if I decide to get nasty about it.

She sighed and kept her mouth shut. They were back in her bedroom, and the house was quiet. Somehow she had managed to get through the rest of the meal with without lunging over the table to beat the smirk off Brad's stupid, fatuous face. But the stress was telling on her. Her head was aching, and her muscles felt tied in knots.

"But Shanaya," the genie's voice was uncharacteristically serious, without its usual empty-minded foolery. "Are you sure? I spoke with Allison for a long time tonight. She..." he paused. "The light of her mind does not shine brightly," he said at last.

She bit back a sharp reply. "She's not stupid, Gene. Don't judge her based on a couple of hours. I've known her my entire life, just about. She could have gone to college, too, if she had put her mind to it. But she's not ambitious. At least not that way. She's sweet and soft and loving and decent and caring and kind. She wants everyone to be happy, and she thinks the best about people, even when they don't really deserve it. So people seem to end up doing the right thing, just so they don't disappoint her. She has her own strengths, her own wisdom. And it doesn't have much to do with what you pick up in a classroom.

"But some people won't do the right thing, because they think they can take advantage of her."

"Like Brad."

"Like Brad," she agreed shortly. Gods, just saying his name made her want to spit. "So all that sweet, shining love will be buried under a coat of slime, and my best friend's life will be ruined."

"You know, you could make this easy on yourself. I could just change him into a slug." Gene waggled his eyebrows. "Appropriate, don't you think?"

"Very." She choked back a laugh. "But then I'd have to worry about stepping on him whenever I went outside. No. I want to be a man. If Brad's gone, someone else will try to take his place. And who knows if he will be worth a shit? I'll treat her the way she deserves."

A ghost of a smile crossed the genie's face. "You do love her."

She ran a hand through her hair. "Of course I do! Haven't I spent the last twenty-four hours saying so?"

"Gurl, most people would say damn near anything if it meant a chance to get into her panties. Men and women both. I can do a lot, but I can't read minds. How could I know you weren't making up a sob story so you could nail sweet little Allison?"

He pointed at the door to the bathroom she shared with her sisters when they were visiting. "Go and clean up. Take off all your clothes, then come back out."

Her belly clenched. "You're going to do it now?"

"No. When you're asleep. That way you'll have some time to acclimate. Your subconscious, at least, will be ready for your body to be male, even if the rest of you won't be." He waved a hand at her. "Go on. Shoo!"

In the bathroom, she took a quick shower, dried off, and then stood on the tile floor, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Though the night was warm, she was shivering.

Can I really do this? Can I really give up everything I am for one chance with Shannon? I might be wrong. She might really love Brad. And he might truly love her.

No.

Slowly, deliberately, she ran her eyes over her body, the same way she had when she was seventeen, and she had realized that Shannon had never seen her as a potential lover, and never would.

She said goodbye to her limp, mousy hair, that could never hold a curl for longer a day. Goodbye to her beak of a nose, her weak chin. Goodbye to her small, unimpressive breasts, goodbye to the five pounds around her middle that she could never get rid of, goodbye to her short, stumpy legs. Goodbye to the black tuft of pubic hair, and the spot between her legs which had never drawn more than a passing interest from anyone, male or female.

Goodbye, Shanaya.

She turned off the light and walked, shaking, to her bed.

"I'm ready."

Gene's eyes were hooded, his face expressionless. "Make your desire known to me, Mistress."

Given caution by Gene's warnings, she had pondered her words throughout the day, until they were as polished as jewels in her mind.

"Genie," she said, her words falling into the nighttime silence like stones into a pond. "I wish to be male, and with a face and form which would make Allison receptive to me as a potential lover."

Gene nodded, almost a bow. An approving look in his eyes told her that she had not erred with her choice of words.

Naked, she lay down atop the blankets. Fighting the terror that seemed to fill her very bones with dread, she closed her eyes. She sensed rather than saw Gene kneel at her side, and then she felt the press of his warm hand on her back. There was nothing sexual about it. Instead, she felt as if he were memorizing her form, storing it away somewhere before remaking her, transforming her into something altogether new.

"Mistress." The words seemed to come from far away. "Your wish is granted."

And Shanaya Singh fell into unconsciousness as if she had been cudgeled.

Chapter 4: Morning Would?

She woke up to a bright room, birdsong, and the overwhelming need to urinate. Rubbing her face, she staggered into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet, expecting the relief such an action usually brought. Instead, there was an uncomfortable pressure, and a strange hot tenseness at her groin.

She cracked open an eye, only to find something staring back at her.

Quite a lot of something, to be honest.

"Ack!" She twitched violently, and almost fell off the seat.

And then memory came flooding back into her mind, and she nearly laughed. Well? Isn't this what you wanted? Now you've got a one-eyed trouser snake of your very own!

She stood, examining her body with iron-eyed attention for the second time in twelve hours. But this time she was vastly more pleased with the results. Instead of a short, somewhat dumpy young woman, with sallow skin and a jumpy, nervous look, like a frightened rabbit, instead there was...

Good Gods.

She was tall. That was her first amazed impression. At least six feet, and maybe an inch or two more. The bathroom countertop seemed very far away. Her skin was clean and healthy, a pleasing shade of mocha. Her hair was jet black, sweeping back from her forehead in dark waves, though somewhat mussed with sleep. Her eyes were dark brown, with an intelligent look, her nose thin and straight, her cheekbones high, and her jaw firm, with a tiny cleft in the middle.

And her body...Kali save me. She didn't know whether to be awed or repulsed. She had never found men attractive, and she didn't expect to start now. But even she couldn't deny the beauty of her own form. Arms and shoulders that were firm with muscle, a broad chest that tapered into a flat belly, long, sturdy legs, and in between, a phallus that shot up from a black nest of pubic hair in an exuberant shout, as if saying to the entire world, Hey, take a really good look at me! Aren't I awesome?

She put a tentative finger on it, then snatched it back as it gave a jerk under her touch. Good gods! All those dumbass boys in high school were telling the truth! It really does have a mind of its own!

She almost giggled, then spun around as a casual voice inquired, "Well? Are you satisfied with my work, O my Mistress? Or rather," Gene continued, as she covered her groin with her hands, "O my master?

"And your hands aren't going to do the job, sweetcheeks," he added with a cheerful leer. "If you want to cover that monster up, you better use your arm."

"I'm not..." she stuttered, feeling her face flame. She had seen a penis or two, when the girls in her apartment would put a porno on, giggling at her discomfort. But when it was staring her straight in the face, attached to her own body, sparking pleasure whenever she brushed the skin with a fingertip...she jerked her hand away hastily. "I'm not too big, am I?"

"Fear not," he bowed. "I had a nice long talk with Shannon last night. I learned all sorts of things about what she likes. And what she doesn't. Trust me, girlfriend. You are just right. And not just your twig and berries." He put a hand on her shoulder, the touch not quite turning into a caress. "Right now, you have just the kind of body she loves. Tall and strong, but not all bulked up. Not too much body hair. A kind face. Seven hells, you're almost good enough to make me think about trying to seduce you."

She swallowed and ignored his teasing. "I don't suppose you could have turned me Caucasian, could you?"

A deep, irritated sigh. "No, honey. I couldn't. Remember what I said about consequences?"

"But..." Deep within her was the fear that her Indian heritage would make Allison hesitate to take her as a lover, if she ever got the chance to try to seduce her. "Why can't you-"

"Listen to me," the genie interrupted. "Right now, in this reality, your parents had three children. Your two sisters, and you, a boy." His voice took on a razorlike edge. "What would happen to their marriage, and to the childhoods of you and your siblings if you were born white?"

Her stomach clenched. "Oh."

"Right. Oh. As in, 'Oh, dear, my wife cheated on me with another man, that's the only way to explain this bouncing blue-eyed Caucasian baby boy, I'm getting a fucking divorce!"

"I'm sorry, Gene," she apologized. "I wasn't thinking."

"Well, start. And stop thinking of yourself as a woman. You're a man now. That old reality, the one you're trying to shed like a snakeskin, is still out there, trying to snatch you back. Right now, it's trapped, like a dragonfly in amber. But think too much about how you're really a woman, and the amber will shatter and everything will snap back to the way it was."

He backed away, closing the door behind him. "Get used to your new body. I'll be downstairs.

"Oh. By the way. Your name is Riyad now. But Allison calls you Ray. You're welcome."

Being a man, Shanaya discovered to her surprise, was much simpler than being a woman.

It wasn't just the fact that she no longer had to bother with makeup. Her bathroom was almost painfully sparse, without concealer or foundation or mascara or eyeliner or a dozen other bottles or tubes cluttering up her sink. Instead, there was simply a razor and shaving cream, a toothbrush, some cologne, mouthwash, and a hairbrush. She took a quick shower, trying - and failing -- to keep her hands off her amazing new penis, and shaved her face for the first time ever. The experience was strange, but not terribly difficult, and she came away from the sink with only a nick or two. She didn't even bleed that much.

Done in the bathroom, she went back to her bedroom, studying it minutely. Oddly, it was almost unchanged from what she had seen the night before. Her honor-roll certificates from high school were still on the wall, only bearing a different name. Her books were still in the bookcase, her movies haphazardly stacked next to her television, her cell phone where she had left it last night. Only the pictures hung on the wall were different. The poses were subtly altered, her sisters and parents making way for her larger frame, though the backgrounds remained the same.

Clothes, however, were a revelation. No more bras! No more high heels! Instead, her closet and bureau were stuffed full of jeans and shorts and comfortable t-shirts. Even her more formal clothes seemed to be little more than neatly-pressed slacks, button-down dress shirts, and loafers, though she did glimpse a pair of suits shoved off to one side. She pulled on a baggy pair of cargo shorts over a pair of boxers, the feel of the soft cotton delightfully wicked against her cock, which gave an enthusiastic twitch.

Not now, she scolded it as she pulled a t-shirt down over her flat belly. Good gods, were guys' dicks like this all the time? No wonder they were all such a bunch of horn-dogs! There's no one here who's interested in you.

"Morning, Mom," she said as she came downstairs, startled by the deep timbre of her voice. Inwardly, she cringed. Surely her own mother would see through her façade!

"Hello, honey," Maryam replied absently. For a moment she blinked, as if searching for a foggy memory as she smiled at her. But then her brow cleared and she took her in a hug. "Ganesh preserve us!" she exclaimed, staring upwards. "Every time I turn around you're taller! When are you going to stop growing?"

"I don't know," she replied with a smile. "I never expected to be over six foot when I grew up, that's for sure." Her mother's head barely reached her chin, she found to her immense shock.

The older woman stepped back. "Well, your Uncle Rajeep is almost as tall as you. But I think you hit the genetic lottery, kiddo." She turned back to emptying the dishwasher. "What are you up to today?"

"I'm not sure. I think I might-" Her phone beeped, interrupting her. She fished it out of her shorts to see a text from Shannon. "Oh, crap. The last fitting for Shannon's wedding dress is today! I nearly forgot!"

"You better hustle, then." Her mother shook her head. "I still think it's weird that she wants your opinion about her dress."

She started to say something, then caught herself. I'm a guy, now. Right. Instead she shrugged and said only, "We've been best friends forever, Mom. How could I tell her no?"

Opening the fridge, she grabbed an apple and a muffin and a bottle of juice. "I got to go. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure, honey." She took her kiss on a proffered cheek, and watched bemusedly as she tore out the door.

Twenty seconds later she burst back through, climbing the stairs two at a time as she hurried to her bedroom to collect the necklace, wrap it in a piece of cloth, and dash back outside again.

*****

"Well, you handled that rather well," Gene said, popping into view in the passenger seat as she idled at a red light.

"Agh!" She flinched so violently her foot nearly slid off the brake. "Don't do that!"

The genie snickered, leaning out the window so he could flick an imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of his cardigan. "My apologies, O my Master."

"And why are you here, anyway?" The light turned green and she turned left onto Columbus. "Isn't your work, you know, kind of done?"

"Have you released me from your service?"

"Um. No."

"Then I have no ability to depart. You are my master, and I am your...servant, shall we say."

"I can hardly introduce yourself to the girls at the bridal shop as my servant."

He waved a negligent hand. "A friend, an associate, a well-wisher, insofar as I do not wish you any specific sort of harm." A feral smile. "And anyway, you need a wingman to run interference for you with all those bitches."

"They're not bitches! They're my friends!" Well, Allison's friends, mostly.

"Not with you as a woman, no. But now you're a man, remember? There is nothing worse than an unmarried bridesmaid with a good-looking man around. They'll all have their tails up and their claws out. And if you're not careful, my master, you might that you've been hooked by one of them rather than sweet little Allison.

"Also, to give you a little advice. Because there's nothing worse than serving a master who has found out that having his wish granted doesn't make him happy. For your entire life, Riyad, you've been content to hover in the background, passive. Have you ever told Allison the way you feel for her?"

Her face heated. "I don't need to tell her. She knows."

The genie cocked an eyebrow at her. "Really? You think lovely Allison knows that her best friend wants to thwart her wedding, seduce her, strip her naked, make love to her all night long, and end up sowing his seed in her while they achieve the sort of climax which would make the very gods weep with envy? Or at least lick every delectable curve and crevice of her body until she cums all over your face?"