The Djinni Slut

A slight tip of the hat to Clemestra :)

Thanks to Todger 65 for the edit.

Prologue: The Tale of the Gods' Soiree.

Zeus hated these soirees. Bad food, bad drinks, and the same old gods talking the same shit over and over, ad infinitum. Here, Hades gloomed over the finer points of lava rocks. Gods, that man is dull! There, Poseidon yapped about his gig as technical adviser to some movie about a sinking passenger ship. Didn't tell them he was the one who put the iceberg there did he? Clumsy, absent-minded idiot.

Hera was snarking about the latest gossip while keeping a sly eye on him. She needn't worry; he was behaving himself. He just couldn't get it up these days. Maybe I need some of that new mortal drug. What is it called? Vegetaria? Vulgaria? I better talk to Asclepius.

Zeus scanned the room. It wasn't just the Greeks; the Norse were here. "Thor's getting plastered as usual," Zeus groaned. Loki was setting up to start his stand up routine. Worst comedian ever.

The Hindus were present. Shiva with his date Kali, Isn't he in, what do the mortals call it? A death metal band? Ugly woman he's got with him.

He spotted a group of djinn. Ugh! Who invited them? Well! Hello, who's this?

One djinn was different from the others. Her skin was actual flesh tone, unlike the varied pastels djinn usually sported. That's what he always hated about the djinn; always too much of one color or the other.

Zeus, goat that he was, had an eye for the ladies. This one had some looks; beautiful but not stunning. She has some Greek or southern Italian in her. Zeus was excellent with measurements. 36DD-28-38, very comely. Her hair was glossy black. Her eyes, dark amber. The hair was straight, just past the shoulders. Her face impressed Zeus the most. It was a beautiful face, just not the face of a goddess; more a peasant girl's face or, in the modern vernacular, the girl next door. Zeus pondered whether to make a move but he had to be careful; Hera still had her issues.

First, he needed information. He sought out Pan, the party organizer, who had the guest list.

"Who's the new girl?"

Pan looked, "Oh? That's their new djinn slut. Don't exactly know her name. Try the Fates."

Zeus cocked an eyebrow. Djinn sluts usually started as mortal. They weren't quite like the djinnya, pure female djinn. A very rare honor for the woman, depending on perspective. The Fates should have her thread; they owed him a favor.

Her thread was golden and unbreakable, indicative of her new status as an immortal. Zeus took a scrying glass and scanned the thread. Hmmm, interesting story.

****

Marissa O'Connor sat on the bed looking at it. I can't believe Larry bought this. It looks like something out of I Dream of Jeannie.

Certainly the lamp was no work of art. Larry bought it at a garage sale, "To celebrate our one year anniversary."

One year since we moved in together. I'd hate to think what would happen if we got married.

Larry wasn't all bad. He was good in bed and fun in a goofy way . . . when he was sober . . . and not making crude sex jokes. His looks were handsome and blonde; a touch of Abercrombie and Fitch with a fratboy brashness that got a little grating at times.

Larry's other problem was a disturbing possessiveness, bordering on jealousy. Still, He has money. I just wish he bought something better than this . . . jar.

The toilet flushed; Larry came out of the bathroom. Marissa wrinkled her nose, beer and grass. Larry was stewed. She didn't like him this way.

"Larry, I don't like it."

"What? The lamp? I got it cheap. I thought it was cute."

Larry climbed into bed. Marissa saw the bulge in his boxer briefs. She felt a headache coming on.

"Larry, I want you to get rid of it," she pouted.

"Aw come on Em, it's just a lamp."

"It's ugly and it gives me the creeps."

"You can be so paranoid, Em." Larry put his hand under her T-shirt and groped for her breast. Marissa pushed him away. "You're drunk."

"And you're a prig, Em it's only a lamp." Larry grabbed it. "What's the matter? You think a genie's going to pop out? Look," he rubbed, "See? No genie."

Looking back, Marissa would marvel at the following event's banality. No "whoosh" accompanied by a flash and smoke. No "pop!" Or dramatic appearance. It was just the two of them one moment and the genie (or djinn as Marissa was later to learn) the next.

"Whoa! Man! Holy shit!" exclaimed Larry.

Marissa gasped and leapt out of bed. Her first impulse was to head for the door and out of the apartment but modesty (she only had on a T-shirt and panties), skepticism (a voice in the back of her head cried, "Practical joke! Things like this just do not happen!") and curiosity (Is this man real?), kept her rooted.

The djinn was handsome, beautiful even; Greek statue beautiful. If not for the light blue skin, pointed ears, fanged teeth, near total absence of body hair (except for a dark blue goatee), and pupil-less eyes, he could almost pass for human. The djinn was also naked . . . and had a dick that made Larry look like a eunuch. Marissa blushed.

The djinn stood at the side of the bed, arms crossed, staring bemusedly at the couple. "Like what you see?" he asked with a lightly accented mellifluence. "So, what is your wish o'master?"

"Guh! Guh!" guhed Larry.

"Guh guh? Is that some new mortal language? Make a wish. I haven't got all millennium."

"Whoa man! That was some bud!"

"Larry, this is not a hash dream. That's a real genie."

"Perceptive; very comely too. Let's see 33C-24-34, Italian / Irish mix, girl next door face on a playmate's body."

"Huh?" thought Marissa.

Seeing her questioning look, the djinn said, "I've not been away from this plane that long and I appreciate a woman's finer points. Now, back to the wish."

"Hot damn! I get three wishes!" Larry shouted.

"Well not . . ." the djinn started to say.

"I can't think," Larry interrupted. "What the fuck do I wish for? Girls? Money? Drugs? Sex . . .?"

Marissa was smart and well read. She knew enough stories about the dangers of genies' wishes. Larry however . . .

"Larry stop!"

"Geez Em, what now?"

"Larry, this is a genie. I know the stories. There's always a catch; a bad one."

"She's giving good advice, Larry," the djinn smiled with a cocked eyebrow and an insincerity Marissa could smell like Larry's bud. "My advice is to listen to it."

"Aw for fuck's sake!" Larry exploded. "A fucking genie and my own girlfriend are telling me what to say! Well news for you dickfuck! I rubbed the lamp, so you do what I tell you, and you!" Larry pointed to Marissa, "I'm sick of your whining, and you never put out either."

Marissa frowned. She lost count how many times she and Larry did it. "Larry . . ." she started.

"Hey genie," Larry said, "Make her a slut."

"Larry?!!"

The djinn smiled, his grin, the very definition of wicked, fanged teeth gleaming white against his blue skin. "Is that your wish o'master?"

"Yeah, why not?" Larry smirked.

The djinn looked at Marissa, cocked an eyebrow, smiled, and gave an almost apologetic shrug.

"Larry!" Marissa cried. The next instant, she was sitting on a bed of cushions, arms above her head, hands tied to an elaborately carved pillar, with red silk ribbons. Overall, a very elaborate set up.

"Whoa!" Larry said. "Nice digs!"

The "digs" was a large, sumptuous room out of classic Arabian folklore: gleaming white walls etched with Arabic calligraphy; a polished black and white marble floor; exotic plants and flowers of every kind, set in giant vases made of solid gold; giant silver cages swinging from a ceiling filled with exotic birds; and pots of smoking incense set on tripods.

In the midst of this luxury: a blue genie, a fratboy in boxer briefs, and a pretty, young woman in Victoria's Secret Pink panties and a white T-shirt.

"Larry you bastard!" the very pissed off Marissa shouted. She squirmed in anger and a frantic attempt to free herself.

"Ha!" a smirking Larry laughed. He started to tug down his boxer briefs and stepped towards Marissa. Suddenly, the djinn popped right in front of him, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked, and wearing a smirk of his own.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he sneered.

"Hey! What the fuck you doing?! You're my bitch! Get the fuck out of the way or I'll put you in the jar!"

Less than a split second later, Larry was swinging from the ceiling, in a bird cage. The djinn floated on the other side, smirking.

"I believe it's time to enlighten you on a couple of things. First, I'm no one's bitch. I can't say the same for you. Second, you said make her a slut. You didn't specify for whom."

"I have two wishes left, dickfuck! I'm going to zap you so far into the shithole, you'll be sucking ass for centuries!"

"Correction, you had a wish. You used it up. I would have told you, you were entitled to one wish but you were so caught up in your, how we say, power trip that I didn't get the chance."

"Motherfucker! Get me out of this cage right now or . . . chirp, chirp!"

"Or what?" the djinn smirked.

Larry gaped like a fish, desperately trying to form human sounds.

"A much more pleasant noise, I'd say," the djinn chuckled. "You're very lucky I didn't turn you into a bird like these foolish idiots." The djinn gestured to the other cages. "You, however, are of handsome bearing and I swing both ways."

The very straight Larry squawked in horror at the djinn's implication

"For the moment, I believe it is fitting that you watch," the djinn continued, glancing down at Marissa and licking his lips. His cock, already an impressive specimen of virility, swelled to envy producing proportions, noted by a jealous squawk from Larry.

"I should have broken up with you when you bought that lamp you son of a bitch," Marissa despaired.

"Oh, don't be afraid my soon-to-be toy," the djinn grinned as he drifted down,"I shall make a much better companion than that pot-addled fool up there."

Marissa cringed and squirmed nervously. "What . . . what are you going to do?" she gulped.

"Well first, let's remove those bothersome clothes, eh?"

"What?!" Marissa exclaimed as the djinn grasped her T-shirt and panties. A quick "rrrrip!" and Marissa was bare Italian olive-skinned naked.

The djinn flung her undies into the air with a dramatic flourish. They flashed to ashes like a cheap magician's trick.

"Sorry for the showmanship. I'm such a showoff. So, what else shall I do to you next?"

"Um, nothing except let me go?" Marissa replied.

"Nah, too long since I've had some fun. Hmmm, let's see."

The djinn took Marissa in. Her jet black hair flowed in slight waves to her shoulders. Her face was round, pleasantly so, with a wide mouth and bell-shaped nose.

"Smile for me," the djinn said, "Like this," taking his fingers and drawing a smile across his face.

"What?!" Marissa exclaimed when, to her surprise, she broke into a wide grin.

"Oooo, nice, even, white teeth. Good smile, must've worn braces."

The djinn brought his fingers together; Marissa's smile disappeared. She frowned, "I'm not a show horse!"

"You are to me. Now shut up or I'll turn you into one. Hmmm, what's next?"

The djinn's gaze lit on her breasts. Marissa's breasts were C-cupped melons, round and perky. Quarter-sized aureolas sat reddish-brown at their tips, capped by red eraser nipples.

The djinn smiled. "Mmmm, very suckable tits but a tad small for my taste. Let's add a couple of cup sizes."

"Oh no!" Marissa cried as the djinn placed his hands on her boobs. He started to knead and massage the soft, pliable flesh. "No! Stop!" Marissa objected, with squirms and gritted teeth.

"That's it, keep squirming. I love it when they squirm," grinned the djinn.

"Ugh! Ahh! Urr! Take your hands off me right now!"

It wasn't as if her boobs never received this attention, witness the red-faced Larry grinding his teeth, and squawking his outrage, nor the fact the djinn's hands were soft and warm, and he definitely knew how to massage. Still, a stranger and kidnapper molesting her boobs was a stranger and kidnapper molesting her boobs.

Marissa's feelings ran the gamut from outrage to humiliation. Complicating those feelings was a slight arousal.

Marissa's boobs, while well-formed, were not as sensitive as she would like; a source of frustration for her and Larry. She watched her boobs bounce, bob, swirl, and morph beneath the djinn's fingers and realized, They're growing!

The sight was akin to two balls of bread dough rising. The djinn squeezed and pumped, pumped and squeezed, and her bosoms ballooned, the flesh bulging between the djinn's digits.

The skin around her melons rose as more boob flesh appropriated her chest. Marissa's stunned gaze switched between her developing mammaries and the djinn's mischievous face.

"Hmmm," he grinned, "I detect a certain lack of sensitivity here. Let's take care of that, shall we?"

"What?! Oh!"

The djinn's hands glowed. Soft heat spread from his fingers into Marissa's cantaloupes. The glow followed the pattern of the nerves with her breasts.

The young coed briefly acquired a luminescent tattoo, beginning at her breasts and spreading through her body. "Oh! Ugh!" she gasped. Though the action was confined to her breasts, her whole body felt it. Her groin was especially responsive, where the nerve tattoo seemed brightest. Heat, wet and soft, bloomed there, drawing out another gasp.

"Oooo, touched a nerve, didn't I?" the djinn giggled. "Well, now a little something extra."

Marissa's breasts received a burst of heat.

"And we'll soon see what I can do with your tummy."

"Oo! Oh! What did you do?"

"You'll see later. Now, your belly and hips. I love 'em curvy."

The djinn's hands moved to her belly. "Let's add some inches here. Don't worry, most of it's muscle . . . maybe a little fat."

Marissa felt nothing at first, except his warm hands. Then her stomach gurgled; it was quick. The djinn took his hands away. She noticed not much difference except, maybe, greater muscle tone. The djinn's hands moved to her hips.

"Raise your ass a little. I need to blow it up a bit."

"What? Why you . . ." Marissa didn't get far before her back arched involuntarily.

"Uh, uh. No complaining. From now on when I tell you to do something, do it or I'll make you."

The djinn ran his hands around her hips and ass, performing the same molding spell. Marissa squirmed again, evoking a "tsk" of annoyance from the djinn.

"Stop squirming, I'll be done in a minute."

"Your hands are on my ass! What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, sit then."

Marissa sat . . . on an ass that felt distinctly plumper than what she had previously.

"What did you do? My butt feels . . . thick!"

"Oh hush. I only added four inches. It's a wider waist and more . . . dat ass I think you mortals call it."

Marissa wasn't sure she liked the changes. She had larger boobs, a thicker torso, and wider hips sure, but she was just fine with her old body. This man is trying to turn me into Kim Kardashian. She didn't like the way he looked at her, like an unfinished sculpture.

"Of course I'm not finished, and no, I'm not trying to make you into Kim Kardashian, whoever she is. I just like my women thicker, oh!" the djinn said at her puzzled expression. "You didn't know I could read minds. Djinn know everyone's darkest secrets. Your mind's an open book, see?"

The djinn reached into her head, a very strange thing for Marissa, since such an act would imply splitting her head open with a large, sharp weapon. Instead, the creature simply dipped his hand into her skull and withdrew an open book.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the djinn said, leafing through it. "A little naughty, weren't you? Playing doctor with Cameron Dickerson, making out with Sarah Ford in front of that freshman, flashing your breasts at Bill Fricke."

"Squawk!"

"Oh please, that's all she did. She was pretty faithful, you know, albeit with just a touch of exhibitionism. You on the other hand, gods! What a hypocrite. Really my dear," he smiled, "You should choose your partners more wisely in the future. His list of conquests reads like a shopping list for sluts."

Marissa's face reddened, not from embarrassment. "She looked at her caged boyfriend, eyes flashing fire. 'I knew it,' she thought. 'Those damn phone calls and hang-ups. The way Sarah kept looking at him at the party last week. His 'business meetings' his boss forgot about when I asked him.'"

"Larry gave a meek 'squawk' but the look on his face suggested a carefree shrug."

"'You son of a bitch,' she said and then glared at the djinn, who was reading the previous paragraph out loud, and had spoken a simultaneous and passable impression of her voice, while flashing a mischievous grin at her."

"Stop that!" she growled.

"Stop what?" the djinn replied, waggling his eyebrows.

Marissa opened her mouth but then shut it, and sat on the pillows, glaring at the djinn with gritted teeth. Stuck fucking naked with an idiot, cheating boyfriend and a psycho-genie.

"I resent that. I'm vindictive and mischievous, yes, but not insane," the djinn said, waving her book mockingly. "There are some things I'll let you know about me. First, I don't like body hair; can't stand it. It's an aesthetic thing with all us djinn. Goatees are the only bit we wear, and only some of us. Let's get rid of all that, shall we?"

"Youch!" Marissa screamed as she underwent a full body bikini wax. She was never very hairy in the first place; made sure to keep her underarms shaved, her legs smooth, and her bush trim. It was as if the genie found parts of her body she never knew about. It felt like the genie actually invented hairs just to pull them out.

The whole process took just a split second; so fast, her "youch" came right after the pain.

"Oh relax," the djinn said. "It's just a bunch of peach fuzz and your bush. You still have your head hair and eyebrows."

A cloud of hair, barely discernible and shaped vaguely like a woman, floated in the air before it flamed into non-existence. The djinn gestured again and a flash of heat burst on her skin, head to toe.

"What did you do?"

"Oh, just killed all your hair cells. No more body hair from now on. I suspect I saved you a bundle on bikini wax and laser treatment, chuckle!"

"Wow!" was a tempting term for Marissa. She wasn't rich and this kind of treatment only came from the best spas.

"You're welcome," the djinn grinned, "Now, what to do to you next?"

"Uh, you can still let me go, you know."

"Uh, uh. Still having fun. Hmmm, you know? One of the things I've always loved, in all the eons of my existence, is oiled women. You know what I'm talking about. It says so in your book. Women covered in suntan oil or some other body lube. It just really . . . excites me."

The djinn went erect again to Marissa's awe. The djinn's cock shamed a pornstar flaccid, now . . . Marissa could not tell if her nervous squirm came from fear, curiosity, or lust. It's . . . just . . . so . . . big!

"Oh, pardon me," the djinn continued. "We djinn can actually control our erections but sometimes . . . Then again, we're narcissistic and exhibitionists as well. Why else would we run around naked? Plus, we have our kinks. As I said, mine's oiled women."

The ribbons binding Marissa to the wall untied and vanished. She was loose but not free. The room changed; much of the ceiling with the bird cages remained intact, but the pillars and many of the pillows disappeared.