Reg and the Genie

This is my entry for the Literotica 2021 Halloween Story Contest.

I wasn't too sure which category to place this in, so you may have to bear with me on this, although the tags will help.

I hope you find it whimsical. It has some romance involving a trans woman with a little magic, but no horror, nor anything unworldly or dark.

If this doesn't suit you, then please, read any of my other stories or other contestant's stories.

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Reginald Peregrine, or Reg for short, sat at his desk, in the museum's basement, surrounded by the museum's uncatalogued antiquities. This had been his only job from school and was his dream job. He could work quietly cleaning and cataloguing artefacts on his own in the depths of the museum. This kept him away from the public and any casual human interaction with work colleagues.

His life had been a lonely road so far, not helped by the old-fashioned name his parents had given him. He'd been singled out and bullied at school, which wasn't helped by his lack of good looks or any physique. Whilst thin, he'd never been good at sports or chatting with anyone, let alone the opposite sex, so unable to attract girlfriends.

Reg retreated into technology, gaming online and chat rooms, enjoying and embracing the anonymity it brought you. Under the anonymity of his neutral persona, the online community welcomed him and it helped him maintain his withdrawal from society, where he happily allowed the world to pass him by, unnoticed.

Today, he had a box of artefacts to document, that a local farmer's family had donated to the museum. They were all uncovered over years of ploughing and ditch-digging, so the museum curators hoped it might contain some nice finds.

Normally these finds would be from recent history. If lucky, there could be items from the English civil war, even luckier Roman or Bronze Age for this area. If unsure, Reg could always go upstairs to the main back rooms of the museum and check the library, or ask some of the older curators, but he preferred to stay hidden in the basement, on his own.

Notepad in hand with gloves on, he opened the box, treating it like an unexploded bomb, using good museum-approved handling techniques. Reg carefully unwrapping each newspaper clad piece and placing them in trays, ticking each piece off the manifest provided by the donors.

Once unwrapped, one large piece stood out amongst all the others, being a large vase. The shape didn't match any of the box's contents descriptions in the manifest. The vase was much older than expected, being pre-Egyptian, possibly even Sumerian. As he studied it further, he saw what was possibly pre-Sanskrit writing that was unknown to him.

He double-checked, but there was no vase on the manifest. There was no way they had discovered this in a local field. The farmer must have brought it whilst on holiday or at an auction or something. He will need to take this upstairs, as it could be of great historic interest.

Reg immediately took some photos and examined the short plump vase under a handheld magnifying glass before he would even touch it. He immediately realised that they had sealed the vessel closed more than once with wax. The upper wax seal was sometime between the Greek and Roman empires, a long time after the vessel's manufacture and the original darker wax beneath.

Deep in thought, working under his bright desk lamps, Reg didn't notice the sunlight fade and the rest of the room drop into darkness, as a thunderstorm engulfed the museum. Satisfied this would interest the curators upstairs, he made his way out of the room into the old marble stairwell, carefully cradling the vase.

Suddenly, a lightning strike on an electrical substation cut the power to the museum, and it plunged the stairwell into darkness. Reg's foot was on the first tread and he was already stepping up to the next. Expecting emergency lighting to come on, he continued, being familiar with the old marble staircase.

Unfortunately, he wasn't as familiar with the staircase as he thought. On his next step, his toe kicked into the next treads edge, tripping him forwards. Cradling the vase, he landed on his elbows, tumbling back down to the hallway beneath him.

Pain from the impacts to his elbows and his shins racked through him as he bumped down the hard marble stairs, causing him to release the ancient vase, sending it to the floor. The vase smashed into a million pieces, releasing a cloud of glowing green vapour at pressure. Slowly, the vapour formed into a humanoid shape.

Reg picked himself to sit up on the bottom step. He felt a tickle inside his head as his life passed in front of his eyes. It was quite an ordinary and dull life, he thought, disappointed by his lack of existence.

The humanoid gaseous shape slowly formed into a solid form, until standing before him was the archetypical pantomime genie, straight out of Aladdin, with baggy silk robes flowing over baggy silk trousers. On his feet, he had pointed curly shoes; he had a small goatee beard, but his head was bald with a long black ponytail.

The apparition stretched his arms up, twisting and reaching up, smiling as his back creaked, then slowly folded his arms and looked down at Reg.

"Phew, Reg, that is a relief. Thanks for releasing me, I can finally stretch out. I've been stuck in that vase for way too long. Whose reign are we under?"

"Er, Elisabeth Regina?"

"Mmm, never heard of him? What happened to old Agamestor?"

"Agamestor? The Archon of Greece?"

"The very same, a terrible loser at dice."

"Er, let me think... Agamestor died about eight hundred BC. You're a bit late, as this is now nearly three thousand years later."

"Holy cow dung, that old wheezer. He tricked me good... Now, this is why we stopped giving three wishes. Too many tricksters and thieves. No honour, even among royalty."

"Three wishes, like a real genie?"

"The same, but only one wish now, as stipulated by the guild of genies. Unless I like you, then I'm allowed some leeway... But if I don't, then you'll soon wish I did."

"Haha, you're going to tell me you sailed with Sinbad?"

"Not with that pirate, he'd short change you. I was with Alibaba, but he never had 40 thieves with him. That was all an exaggeration. It was just me and him."

"So did you know Aladdin or the Queen of Sheba?"

"Oh yes, but Aladdin was so needy, always bursting into song, playing the hero. Without my help, Princess Jasmine was way out of his league. Now the Queen of Sheba, she was such a tart, always playing us genies off against each other, she was a looker though."

"This is ridiculous, I must be dreaming."

"No... You're not dreaming... Being blunt, your life, if that was what I glimpsed from your memories, has been pretty dull. However, I am a genie and you have released me, so I can grant you one wish."

"No, I must be dreaming."

"Nope, time is ticking and I have three thousand years to catch up on. Your measly twenty-two years are but a blink of my eye. So whatever you need for your one wish I can grant you."

Reg scratched his head, still a little dazed, as the emergency lights flickered on, but not blanking out the apparition before him. His mind raced. What one thing could improve his lot? A castle, gold, or a billion in the bank?

"Nope, you don't want that."

"Sorry?"

"No, you don't want a castle, gold, or a billion in the bank."

"What?... You can read my mind?"

"What little mind you have... Yes, it's a genie thing."

"So no castle, gold or money?"

"No, it's not what you really need."

Reg's mind ran through the possibilities of new gaming machines and games rumoured about to be released. He could become a master gamer. The genie cut him off.

"I don't know what that is in your head but that's not what you need."

"I thought you offered me a wish?"

"Yeah, but the guild of genies allows me to change my mind... I've given people gold before and it hasn't changed them for the better. They've not really benefited, they soon return to the quagmire they came from or get deeper into trouble."

This turnaround surprised Reg. Although, there are lots of lottery winners that blew it all and returned to working for a living or back on benefits or worse, back in prison, but he would be different.

"Nope, no you wouldn't... I had the same arguments with Aladdin, Alibaba and the queen of Sheba. They came around soon enough."

"Can you stop reading my mind?"

"Nope... It's a genie thing. We can be annoying, hence being waxed up in the vase. Plus some people don't like losing at dice."

"So what about Alibaba? He was a thief, so you wouldn't give him money either?"

"He didn't need money."

"But he was a thief?"

"He liked the thrill and sheer fun of stealing something from under your nose, or the nose of a merchant. The excitement of dancing through his guards, avoiding the palace guards. So much fun, Ali, just wanted to live... He had money and women, he just wanted a thrill."

"And the queen of Sheba?"

"Oh, similar thing, she needed fun that royalty couldn't provide, outside of the restrictions of the royal court."

"And you gave it to her?"

"Oh... Yes, I gave it to her alright, but less about my history."

"So what do I need?"

The main lights flickered back on, clearly shocking the genie, who looked for the source of the light, waving his hands near it, not feeling the heat of a flame, nor seeing the oily fumes.

"What magic is this?"

"Not magic, science."

"Alchemy?"

"Sort of."

"I'm interested. I may hang around, but that depends if you know what you need?"

"According to you, I don't know what I need. Surely not the life of a burglar."

"No, I can't see you climbing up a castle wall to steal gold, or dodging palace guards, your no Alibaba... More Sheba."

"I'm not royalty."

"No, but you need what she did... You need to get laid."

"Whaaatt?... No tricks, this isn't funny."

"No, no tricks, no magic. I'll get you laid and we'll have some fun whilst we're at it..."

"What? You'll give me a 'love' potion?"

"Hell no... Coercion never ends well... The spell wears off, she realises, calls the guards... Her overzealous father or lover will seek retribution and you'll end up in prison... Or something worse... And I will end up playing dice with the judge or prison guards to win your freedom... Been there, done that."

"But you can... you know?" Reg raised his hands flat, palms down, wiggling his fingers, mimicking making a spell or granting a wish.

"Ah... But he'd used his wish by then, so I was only helping him out of goodwill and because I liked him."

"Who?"

"Ali... Oh, it doesn't matter; maybe someday I'll write a book."

"So how will you get me laid, if you can't use magic, that's not really a wish?"

"I'll give you my advice, a little moral support and guidance and maybe get laid myself."

"As I said, that's not technically a wish, more of being my wingman, whilst benefitting yourself."

"Well, my experience tells me that getting laid is the easy bit. It's the trouble you can get into whilst getting laid that needs the wish to get out of."

"Now, you're speaking in riddles."

"Well, let's say you hadn't used your wish to get laid and end up in prison, then you still have your wish ready to make your escape."

"Ah... Ok."

The genie looked pensive.

"Ok, Alakazam... no, no, not that one, Alakazoom... no, maybe not that one... Haha... You're not one much for jokes, are you? You need to work on that if you're going to get laid."

With that, the genie waved his hand. Reg felt nothing, no flashes of light or cracks of thunderbolts, nor puffs of smoke. He looked disappointed at the genie, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't worry, I'll make any wishes a little more theatrical. Right, let's see if you have any choices in that head of yours."

Reg felt his brain tickle again and images ran through his mind... Stopping at his large breasted sister emerging from the swimming pool, in a revealing bikini earlier on holiday that summer.

"Nice, now there's a beauty."

"Nooooo, she's my sister."

"And that's a problem... Because?"

"Yuk, no... Just no."

"Yeah... But you could introduce us?"

"No... She's my sister."

"Yeah, but not mine... She has some nice assets; maybe I will stick with you for a while."

Reg felt that itch again, and a few girls from school drifted across his mind. Then the image of the best candidate hung in his mind. The image of Janet, the museum intern standing on a library ladder. She worked one floor above in the museum. A little younger than him but very fit and a bit of a flirt.

The genie ran through various views of her that Reg had stored in his mind. He flitted through Reg's memories, like flitting through a photo album, pausing on images of Janet bent over in a short pleated skirt, Janet leaning across a bench, bunching her cleavage between her arms and one looking up her skirt when she was at the top level of a library ladder. The image showed her ample buttocks, peeking out of her panties and the top of her suspenders.

"Bingo, we have a winner. Nice underwear too, right, tidy this mess up and let's get after our quarry."

Reg swept up the broken vase. Whilst thankful it wasn't on the manifest, he wondered how it got there with no record, from either the donor or the museum. He had worked his way up over the years to this position of trust, keeping him deep down and breaking an artefact was a huge offence here. Curators would not understand his defence of releasing a three-thousand-year-old genie.

With the debris bagged and hidden in the bin, under his empty lunchtime take out cartons, Reg went to return to the stairwell with the genie following him.

"Er... You can't come with me. They don't allow visitors back here without a pass," Reg said with a wave of his lanyard and security pass.

"That's okay, they won't see me."

Reg couldn't see how a large, pantomime clad genie following him around wouldn't be seen. Genie saw his annoyance and clicked his fingers. He disappeared, to reappear sitting on Reg's shoulder, like a doll, barely four inches high, smiling.

"But I won't be able to talk to you. They'll think I'm mad talking to an invisible friend, let alone a genie."

("That's okay, just think it, and I'll hear.") Genie's voice rang inside Reg's head.

("And you can hear me?") Reg thought, to see genie nod, as he sat on his shoulder.

("Yes loud and clear, I've had a lot of practice at this, trust me.")

Reg wasn't so sure, being unused to having friends, let alone a friend who is a four-inch high genie. Reg walked up the stairs and onto the main landing of the carpeted ground floor and made his way to the library.

A curator came out of a door to smile and nod at Reg, not giving any indication of seeing a genie sitting on his shoulder. Reg peeked through the door's glass window into the breakout room to see Janet sat there alone, drinking a cup of tea. He paused, preparing himself, took a deep breath, and marched in.

"Hi, Janet."

"Reg. I don't normally see you in here?"

"No... I fancied a coffee for a change."

Reg went to the coffee machine and selected a cappuccino with sugar, pressed the button, and turned to Janet. His heart beat faster and his legs felt like jelly, which wasn't helped by her leaning back in her chair, to display her ample cleavage through her low cut T-shirt.

("Oh... She's good. She knows what she's doing. Reg, step up your game. There's no one else here. Make your move. Give her a compliment, tell her you like her clothes or her hair.")

Reg heard his cup drop and the gargle of the machine now pouring coffee.

"I like your hair today. Have you done something different with it?"

"Nice of you to notice. I went to the hairdresser's last night, ready for the weekend."

She reached for her cup and as she brought it up to her lips; she squeezed her boobs with her shoulders and licked her lips, running her tongue over her lower lip, looking up at Reg with a coy, innocent look.

("Oh... She's good. Tread carefully Reg, this one may bite. Ask her what her weekend's plans are.")

"So, what are your plans for the weekend?"

Reg pulled his cup from the machine and sat next to Janet, as she pulled her chair back, showing her short skirt and long legs, clad in lace hosiery, down to her flat shoes.

"The big one is tonight, silly. Don't you notice anything down there in the dungeons? It's Halloween, I'm going to the fancy dress party at the 'Cat's whiskers' nightclub with friends... I've a really tight costume."

She stressed the word 'tight' by squeezing her boobs tighter, enjoying seeing Reg's eyes bulge as her cleavage mesmerised him.

("Offer to give her a hand getting dressed Reg, quick while she's hot.")

"I can always give you a hand... Help you squeeze into your costume, if you like?"

"I bet you would too, Reg. I've noticed you only come into the library when I'm up a ladder... You like to look up my skirt and see my stockings?"

She spread her legs wider and pulled her skirt up, showing Reg the tops over her lace stockings and the flesh of her upper thigh. Reg was now hot under the collar, with his blood rushing to his cock, which was now fighting to uncurl in its confinement, inside his boxers and jeans.

She laughed, knowing how horny Reg was now feeling...

("Careful Reg... I think this one is going to bite back.")

"I bet you'd like to sneak off into the darkroom with me and pull my knickers down?"

The darkroom was well known for courting couples in the museum. To gain his first notch in his bedpost with Janet in there would be an accolade for Reg. Who was shuffling in his seat to ease the pressure inside his boxers.

"I'm pretty sure it's not being used today, as no one has used the x-ray machine."

Janet placed her empty cup on the table, got up and walked the long way to the door, looking over her shoulder in a come-hither look. Reg, not believing his luck, stumbled up to his feet to follow her. She opened the door, pausing in the opening, to look mockingly back at him.

"Not today Reg, not ever... Haha, maybe you can join me with my boyfriend, at the 'Cat's whiskers' later... But you'll have to be early, ticket entry after six and they're all sold out."

She laughed again as she pulled her skirt up behind her, exposing one cheek, tightly clad in some white lace panties, to drop her skirt and walk down the hallway laughing wickedly, as the door sprung closed behind her.

("Oh Reg, she's a witch, that one... I'm sorry, she led you in a merry dance.")

Genie appeared, sitting opposite him at the table, and motioned for him to sit back down.

"I'm sorry Reg. She's an anomaly, a real tease. It seems she's been playing you for months, I'm afraid, quite a witch."

Reg sat back down, knowing he was right, and the two chatted over his performance, genie praising him for his bravado. Reg had crossed so many barriers with that one conversation. Some personal, some both he and Janet could report either to human resources.

He left his coffee half-finished, and the two returned downstairs for Reg to finish his work, although there wasn't much left of the working day left.

"So what about this nightclub, Reg? Is that like a taverna?"

"Sort of, a pub with food, beer, music and dancing."

"And women?"

"Yes."

"Your sister?"

"No..."

"Shame, but let's go, anyway."

"They've sold out, so we'll have to get there before six."

"And the problem is?"

"Okay, we'll go. At least we can get a burger there."

"Burger?"

"Fried beef in bread and chips."

"Chips?"

"We can't be doing this all night." Reg imagined a burger with chips on a plate, hoping the genie got his drift.