She loved going into dusty old shops and ‘antiquing’ on her off days. A corporate go-getter, she rarely gave herself a day off, but after twenty days of constant meetings, putting out fires, encouraging pep talks, and client soothings, she was drained.
She hated feeling this empty.
Sometimes sex filled her, but even that, of late, had become stale. She’d played with a few guys a few times, but none really had that click that meant they were the key to fit her lock.
So here she was on a Wednesday, trolling slowly through Stamford, Connecticut, roaming at will through the delightful shops, some bright and glitzy, some, like this, a bit off the beaten path, but with a sweetness and charm that all the gilt in the world couldn’t match.
The shopkeeper, a wizened fellow of late years had bright blue eyes, and a story for every piece in his shop. The Dresden lady lamp was second to none, and he’d already boxed that up to ship back to her loft. She wasn’t taking any chances with that, driving back over the Brooklyn Bridge tomorrow. He’d promised that his freight company was second to none, and had never broken a piece he’d shipped.
The smaller Waterford vase would look lovely in her kitchen, and she carried it around the shop with her.
After an hour poking through the front rooms, he came to her as she stood indecisively in front of a Louis XVI banquette settee.
“We ship furniture too, Miss.” He was right at her elbow, and she jumped.
“Sorry, Miss, didn’t mean to startle you.” He held out a steadying hand. “You seem taken with this piece.”
“Well, the thing is, I really adore the style…but …well…” she looked at the piece again. And sighed.
“It’s pink. Verrrrry pink.”
“Not one of those frilly pink girls, eh?” He wheezed out a rich chuckle, when she vehemently shook her head ‘no’.
“How ’bout this…” He paused. “I don’t often let people up to see the overflow stock, but I’m going to close the store for my lunch break, and if you’re in no hurry, I’ll let you up there to poke around while I eat my soup and sandwich. ”
She smiled, and his blue eyes twinkled behind his wire-framed glasses.
She found a pair of outrageous gilt lion columns that would flank the door to her bedroom with panache, and a dose of humor. The expression in their eyes was fierce, and their open, roaring mouths would make her smile every night when she went to bed.
Two smaller Dresden pieces had been found stuffed into a wooden crate with a peeling Cola sign on the outside. She made her way to the last corner of the last room. It was warm up here, and motes of dust danced in the shafts of light pouring in through the surprisingly generous windows. She had laid her coat over the baluster, and was just laying the two Dresden pieces to the side of the railing when the gleaming rays caught on something in the corner.
Gleaming dully gold, she was drawn across the room. A pair of table lamps sat on a pile of boxes behind a rather moth-eaten couch. A large brass sphere rose to a slender neck, with a second, smaller sphere holding the socket. The shades were incredibly ugly, dark and dingy. But with linen shades to replace those, they would look fantastic in her “industrial style” living room. The furniture there was large and clunky, and these were perfect for the scale of the loft.
She lifted one. Heavy sucker, she mused, puffing her way back to the stairway with first one, then the other. She saw the little, bright-eyed fish as she put the second lamp down, and couldn’t resist him, either.
She could picture him in her bathroom, surrounded by seashell soaps. Setting the second lamp down with a thud, she went back and scooped up the fish. Tipping him upside down she saw the distinctive blue crossed swords. Meissen. “Hmmm,” she mused for a moment, knowing that this one little piece would set her back close to $300.00.
She shrugged. What the hell. She’d made a killing, frankly, landing the Paulson account, and dammit! She wanted it. She’d give a pass to the settee, and take the lamps, the fish, the lions and the Dresden pieces.
As if reading her mind, the shopkeeper poked his head up the stairs. He chuckled again when he saw her stash by the railings.
“I can see I made a good choice in letting you up here to wander, Miss!”
She looked at her pile, and laughed.
“I think I’m shopped out and here I’d planned to spend the day poking around town…”
“Well, plenty to look at in Stamford, to be sure. Glad that you came by. I always believe my pieces find the owners who will care for them the best. His eyes twinkled as he took in the dichotomy of her choices, from the fat brass lamps to the delicate porcelain fish.
She drove back over the Bridge at 8:30, back into the gleaming Apple. She’d not planned to come home this early but she could hardly wait to put her new toys in her home.
It took four trips to get everything upstairs, damn weren’t those lamps the heaviest things? The lions looked perfect outside her pocket doors, fierce and sturdy and quixotic.
She placed the fish on the bathroom shelf, making a note on her PDA to pick up some seashell soaps, and looked around to find a place to put the little Dresden pieces.
She found him standing in her kitchen.
part one is here
He was dressed in a very old top-hat and coat–some strange kind of get-up, she mused. He was no one she’d ever seen before in her life.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?” she asked, trying to be firm and no-nonsense, while her heart was pounding in her chest.
“Gene.” her tone was flat and unfriendly.
“Right. And you, little lady, summoned me.”
SUMMONED? What the fuck did that mean?
“Summoned? What are you talking about? I just got home…”
“42 minutes ago. Right. I was there.” He looked around the kitchen. “Love what you’ve done to the place. Last time I was here this was…”
She interrupted his banality.
“Gene” he said, helpfully.
she sighed. “Gene, I’m sure you’re a nice enough guy.’
“No I’m not.”
She took a step back.
“Now, look here, YOU must GO. NOW.” And she pointed to the far side of the loft where the door sat, partially ajar on its rollers.
He looked at her.
“You’re new at this aren’t you? Lost your imagination when your parents forgot the dough for your tooth and never looked at anything the same way again. That’s sad, you know? There *is* magic…it’s ….everywhere” and he waved his arms in a wild, sweeping arc.
How the holy fuck had he known that?
“You’re fucking nuts. Out. Now!” she all but barked at him.
“Is that a wish?”
She stared at him. Why. Why. Why did she wind up with all the nutjobs?
“No, it’s not a wish…it’s an ORDER.”
“Well, I don’t take orders, little lady. Only wishes.”
She stared at him. He stared back, his look challenging, though with his hand on his hip like that, he looked more like a gay diva, than anything intimidating.
“Wait. You’re trying to convince me that you’re … a genii, and you’ll make a wish come true?”
“What if I wish for 3*extra* wishes.”
“Well, that rarely works, you know. It depends on the benevolence of your particular genii. Me? I like you. You’re sassy. ”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’ll bet you’ve not had sex in forever.”
She stared at him. “Why..wh…”
He smiled. “That’s okay honey, me either. Do you know how many guys are sooo totally turned off on genii’s? I still have the package, if you know what I mean but honey? They all just treat me so shoddy. But for you? I could whip up a nice fella..”
She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Oh, right, laugh at the poor genii who can’t get laid.”
She giggled as he dramatically rolled his eyes.
She wasn’t sure that she believed him. She was a smart gal, very smart. This was…she shook her head. Absurd. Silly. Downright stupid.
“How about this, okay? How about you make one teeny little wish. Something…that you couldn’t get from ordinary means. Just so I can PROOOOOVVVVE to you that I am what I am.”
She worried at her lip. A habit she had broken herself of years ago because it looked so fucking indecisive.
“And let’s make it fun. Since we were talking about sex…how about something sexy. A pretty negligee. A robe.”
“Ah, ” she thought to herself. She’d wish for a nightie and he’d “magically” whip out a selection. Some lingerie place was taking salesmanship to new levels.
“How about a selection of dildo’s. Glass, and silicone…but only the best kind. Fat ones, ones with..” Before she could finish the thought, a full basket of them appeared on the counter beside her. A glass dildo that she had long admired, its rainbow swirls almost iridescent lay on top.
“I believe that one is your favorite?” asked Gene, his tone just shy of condescending. She stared, open-mouthed into the basket. Pink and purple, clear glass, even the one with the gold inner swirl was there.
“How’d you do that?”
“I told you, little miss. Magic. And…that one won’t even cost you a wish, since I can see how very disillusioned you have become. Sad really….” and he heaved a great, dramatic sigh.
“So….I could wish for more wishes?”
“Perhaps. Give it a whirl.”
“Genii, I’d like three extra wishes.”
“I’ll go for two. And even at that I’m stretching the djinn code a bit. But little miss…I truly believe you are worth getting into a wee bit of trouble with my superiors.”
“How long do I have to make all these wishes?” She asked, a bit suspiciously.
“oh honey, take your time…do you see me in a hurry to run off and bang some genii bashing troll?” He sighed again.
“A figure of speech, doll. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. And speaking of head, whadda you say about a makeover? I’m pretty good with scissors and a dye bottle. Then again you can spend a wish and become permanently re-colored. Because between you and me honey? Blonde is *not* your color.” He nodded, lips pursed, looking concerned.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Gone were the long, blonde tresses she had worn for the last twenty years. Though she had often worn her hair up as she believed befitted her position in upper management, it had actually fallen to almost waist length.
Now it came below shoulder length in the front, mid-back behind. And it was red.
“simply divine, darling” Gene all but cooed at her. “we just needed to make a little adjustment to whoosh away all that blonde silliness, and replace it with this tone. You were born to be a redhead.
He was right, dammit.
The red had pizzaz, and all but illuminated her eyes. She…sparkled.
“Thank you, Gene,” she said, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
“oh, honey, if I weren’t all about the guys, I’d date you myself. I might, might, maybe even fuck you!!” He spoke with a flourish and an eyebrow waggle that did the Marx brothers proud. He certainly did make her laugh.
“So there’s one wish taken,” she said, still meeting His eyes in the mirror. You said i would get 2 extra, so i have 4 left.”
“Correctomundo, my perky beauty. And speaking of perky, wanna little sumthin’ something done about your fight with gravity there?” He cupped his hands under non-existent boobs and hefted.
“No.” She shook her head fiercely, blushing madly. Her red locks swished around her face. Gosh it was pretty…! She caught his eyes, laughing at her, in the mirror. She blushed deeper. “No Gene. No boob jobs.”
“Takes just a wish and …I can make ’em bigger, too…?” He laughed at the look on her face.
“okay okay a genii can take a hint pretty girl. So, what’s next on your agenda? Hmmm? Money? New car? A guy with a pecker out to there…” He paused, hand outrageously out in front of him, while she laughed.
He shook his head. “No no, all wrong for you, that’s *my* Mr. Do-Me-Right…” and he giggled.
Yeah. She smiled. A giggling genii.
“Gene, i need to finish up here, and get to bed. It’s late and i drove back from Connecticut and …gee…how do i find you again when i do make a wish? Wait. Wait. The lamps. Genii and brass lamps, right?”
He shook his head, grinning back at her.
“That is such a fucking cliché you know…right? Am I right? Do i looklike I came from something as immensely ugly as that?” He trailed his hand down the front of his vintage tux. “No way, sister, try again.”
“Well, um….. something i got in that antique shop, i know…” Her voice trailed off as she studied his face. His eyes were the most intense iridescent blue…almost aquamarine. Where had she seen that…
She laughed, clapping her hands. “The fish!!! You were hiding inside the Meissen fish!”
“You are a quick one, aren’t you. Yes, Boss, the Fish and i have been close companions for a millenia or two.”
“So i rub the fish and you’ll come out?”
“That’s how it works, this genii thing.”
“Well, no new car or anything like that. I’m not really into that. Antiques, sure.”
“Even though you understand the searching for ‘antiquities’ is really a way of hiding what you are really searching for, Boss?”
She looked sharply at him. This genii had been around a long time. She figured he’d seen all sorts of people but he’d never me her before. She was not replacing anything with her love of antiquing. She wasn’t.
“You are.” He nodded, then tapped his head. “I can see it. You need that someone …hell, we all need “him” –whoever Mr. Right is…we all search for that, Boss. You know i can pop him up for you…”
She waved her hands in front of him in a gesture of denial…”no no no, genii….that is not what I want…if He is out there, well, then…perhaps.”
Gene wandered around her loft while she was at work. She had some cool stuff, but really, it was all just …stuff. He decided to take a walk. He’d not been walking around New York in several decades…or so.
He stepped on the flyer as he stepped out her front door to the outside world. He pulled it off his shoe, fastidious to the core, and was preparing to ball it and heave it when he caught sight of the words on the back.
“Oh!”he exclaimed. He looked at his wrist. Damn. He’d forgotten his watch. He closed his eyes and a blue-faced Rolex appeared. He looked at the date. “Perfect!” he enthused, and turning on his heel, he reentered her loft without opening the door.
“So much to do to get my little princess ready….” He rubbed his hands together gleefully, and set about forming his plan to convince his temporary Boss to give this venture a try….
It would be a formidable challenge. And didn’t he love those most of all?!
She came home, tired, bone weary. She’d gone round and round with her Boss, who had taken her “upstairs” , where the rounds of arguing continued with their Boss…and she had been vindicated.
But Jim would hate her eternally for it.
Some days just sucked.
She rolled open the door to her loft and saw Gene. She stepped inside, shut the door, and did a double take…..and guffawed. Her purse fell to the floor, and she sagged against the door, convulsed.
His eyebrow waggled, and he strutted over to her. Not a swagger in his walk, not at all. This was a full-blown cat-strut.
“You-you..you…” and she bent over, holding her belly and laughing madly. For several minutes she laughed until tears spilled, and she sagged loosely to the floor.
Wiping her eyes, she looked up at him. “Thanks Gene…gosh i needed that…” and a few giggles bubbled up as she took in his outfit, a rubber wetsuit. Skin-tight it showed off an impressive bulge at the “centre of manly delights” as he called it, arching his back and thrusting his pelvis forward, turning this way and that.
“Oh, oh….” and she continued to giggle. He sat down beside her, gathered her into an impromptu one-armed man-hug. “You know, Boss, I am breaking all sorts of djinn codes here, right? Dressing up, and hugging…that’s practically verboten.”
“Still, I really like you …and sometimes breaking the rules is necessary…Ghandi did, and so did Rosa Parks…”
She leaned into him. How had they grown so close so fast? She felt like she’d known him years, rather than 36 short hours.
He slapped her none-to-gently on her thigh. “okay, Boss, time to get up and get dressed!”
“Gene–i am dressed.”
“nope. not. We’re going out! He laughed at the look on her face.
“Look, Boss, i found your date book and guess what i found? Hmmm? Hmmm? No. Dates. Not one Tom, Harry, -or- Dick, and I accent the “no dick”…” He poked her shoulder as she flushed.
“You haven’t had sex in so long you *blush* about it, Boss. We gotta fix that. I put out an outfit on your bed. Found it in your closet….”
She rose, and went off to see. There was something in his eyes that made her curious and then…she flushed. Oh. My. Gawd. He didn’t findthat box….did he?
And of course–he had. There laid out on the bed was a short mini-dress, made entirely of black lace. The bodice had a plunging Vee-neckline, which plummeted to her navel, with cross-lacings that tantalized views of the inner swell of her breasts. The straps came up around her neck, halter style, and left her back bare to her waist. A second vee revealed her asscrack under the crisscrossed ties.
“You’ll look stunning in that, you know.” She turned and looked over her shoulder. Gene lounged in the doorway. “I may be gay, but there is nothing I like better than seeing a woman all tricked out in sexy clothing. I am not immune to a lovely set of titties, you know.”
He leered at her, a caricature, making her laugh yet again.
“Gene, I’m not sure where you’re from, but i can’t wear this out, not here….”
“You can wear it to where I’m going to take you…look…” He proffered the flyer to her.
TO RECEIVE LOCATION DIRECTIONS
PAINFUL FUN? REQUIRED!!
She looked up at him. “Gene…i can’t….i mean…that is not my scene anymore…i…”
“You mean you got burned, so now you’ve decided to bury a suppressed need and forget all about that dark side that needs feeding? Gave up ALL sex, focused on the career, yada yada yada.
I’ve heard it all before, Boss. Trust me on this …we’re going!”
He turned away…then back to her. “Don’t forget the cuffs, Boss..” and his laughter trailed out behind him as he went back into the living room.
She stared at the vacated doorway. Well…fuck! Slowly she shed her clothing, her work, and gingerly she picked up the halter-dress. Hmmm. This one wasn’t hers…..and she looked over her shoulder…
“I fixed the rip, and spiffed up the fabric a bit…” his voice came from the living room.
How the fuck did he do that?
She slid it over her head. It fit like a dream. The fabric Gene had “fixed” was even more sheer, more gossamer. It clung in the right places, flared at the skirt. She sat on the edge of her bed and slipped on one stocking, then the other. Ruffled garters held them in place on her thighs.
She took up the thick leather cuffs. These had been made specially for her by a leather-working friend. Her last memory of Him was laughter and good humor as he had affixed them around her wrists that first time…Soft as butter, strong as steel, He’d said. And he’d kissed her softly.
That was the last time she’d seen Him. He’d moved to the West Coast, and she’d headed here to New York. Gosh that was eons ago.
They slid on, and she was able to fasten one, then the other. She slipped into the black heels, and strolled out to see the reaction on Gene’s face.
It was worth quite a bit to her to see the look flash across his face when he spied her sashaying towards him.
“Well, aren’t YOU the pretty submissive slut, Boss?!” He circled her, tugging here, straightening a curl there. He pulled her wrists behind her, and fastened them together.
He held his hand out and a pair of clamps with a thick silver chain *poofed* into view.
“No charge” he said, cheerfully, ordering her to “stay”. Her feet froze to the floor. He attached the chain onto each of her nipples through the fabric.
“it’s extra ouchie when there is something between the clamp and your skin, but i made them a bit loose for you…don’t want to usurp the right of any Dom who claims you…”
“I-i don’t want just any Dom to claim me…” she sputtered.
“Don’t worry, Boss. I know *exactly* what you need…”
He took her hand and with a *poof* the loft was empty. The gleaming eyes of the Meissen fish seemed to smile through the thin wisp of genii-smoke that curled slowly to the ceiling, and dissipated.
They arrived into a dark room. How they’d gotten from her loft to here was more of that genii magic. She moved to whisk away the genii “smoke” which seemed to accompany his more ‘extreme’ tricks, forgetting that he’d just snapped the cuffs behind her back.
“Gene” she whispered into the darkness.
“Right here, Boss,” came his voice from behind her left shoulder. His hand took her elbow and steered her towards the door, dimly outlined with light. He wondered how she would react to the little change he’d made in her attire while they were “in transit”.
Gone was her discreetly sexy black dress. Gone was his rubber wetsuit, which he had donned to tease a laugh out of her. She was strung pretty tight, the worst of all the many owners he’d had over the eons.
He leaned around her and opened the door. To the left, the corridor bent to presumably more rooms; to the right a splash of color and sound, and the flowing tide of people who had come to play.
She pulled at the cuffs again, somewhat unnerved. She looked down and stopped dead. Gene, although expecting some reaction, hadn’t expected that, and only barely managed to avoid falling over her. His attention had wandered to a blonde Adonis across the room, as tall as he himself was…and he’d plowed right into the Boss.
“Gene, what the fuck is this?!”
“What what are you talking about, Boss?” he said, as he juggled her, himself, keeping them from sprawling across the corridor in a disordered tangle.
“This!” she hissed, but, unable to use her hands, she settled for jerking her head down towards her chest.
“Ohhh, that.” He almost laughed aloud, but smartly stuffed that back down. “Well, Boss, the dress was great. Sexy as all get out. But really, you might have considered wearing that to a vanilla event. Sure, you’d top it with a cute sweater, or a tailored blazer, but i know you now, and your penchant for multi-use clothing. ”
He took a deep breath, then stepped around her, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. Hers were storm-cloud blue, and pissed.
“You are beautiful. Gorgeous. Hawt. Different from them. Not jaded, but wary. I thought something a bit…different…would suit. You are stunning, you know.”
He was calm, matter of fact. With a barely perceptible gesture, the wall beside them turned into a mirror. He turned her to face herself. Her hair was pulled over her shoulders, secured somehow behind her in a loose, sexy ponytail. A tendril had slipped free in their near-fall, and curled softly beside her neck, laying in unspoken invitation on the top of her left breast. A breast that rose enticingly from the deep-cut corset that was wrapped gently around her. The corset was different. White lace, covering a soft, just-barely-pink silk base, accented by tiny pearl buttons. The lace that outlined the very top hid her nipples from view, but little else. Her breasts curved, full and round from the top edge, the soft cream of her skin was complimented by the white and pink tones of the corset.
Below the corset, a sheer lace underskirt, all handkerchief pointed and flirty hung to barely cover the top of her stockings, now white fishnets. Her shoes were palest pink, 5 inch, open-toed stilettos, with thin straps crossing up around her slender feet.
She turned slowly to see the back. He had used a pearly pink scrunchy in her hair, of course he had. She caught a glimpse of pink through the skirt…pink panties. Of course. The leather cuffs had been changed to soft pink rope, wrapped round and round her wrists like large cuffs. The look was breathtakingly sexy.
It fit her, and suited her. She looked like herself…and a stranger. Sexy, sensual.
In the mirror, their eyes met.
“See?” He asked softly. In the softly worn jeans, boots, and tee-shirt, he looked…amazing, actually.
Mute, she nodded, and without another word, he led her out into the party.
It was time. He moved out from the hallway and, taking the Boss by the arm, pulled her out behind him.
He threaded his way through the crowded room. With a variety of scenes going on, and the teeming mass of people filling the cavernous space, he knew he and the Boss would remain relatively anonymous. He didn’t want to be stopped, didn’t want her attention on anything but him as he guided her down the road to her destiny.
She was quiet just now, the Boss, which was a miracle. Over the last two days, she had chattered to him quite a bit. Okay, not always verbally, but she didn’t have to know that he could read her thoughts, her body language. Eons of genii enslavement had taught him how to read just about anyone. He scanned the crowd looking for the one she had been brought for. Though strangers now, before this night was done, his non-magical skills should have wrought a miracle…at least for the Boss.
Whether He found his own miracle guy was another question.
He’d given up chaffing at his enslavement long ago, but every once in a while the need for freedom rose with a pang. He wanted to be mortal again.
As if anyone would break a Meissen porcelain to do that. Clever bastard, sticking him into a pricey object d’art. That was in the early 1700’s, he recalled, when Von de Blanc had figured out how to move his captivity to another vessel…something less traditional than a genii bottle, something to be handed down from generation to generation.
The last in the Von de Blanc line had died, eld and irritable, with one wish left. A wish which had kept him bound to the small fish. One fucking wish which had kept him locked away, as the precious china figurine was moved from house, to estate reseller, to the little backwater shop in Connecticut where the Boss had found him.
He was forever grateful to have been released. And gosh if anyone needed him more than anyone? It was the Boss. Repressed, a bit scared of life, more than a bit tentative about her submission, and talk about sexually repressed?!
If he was ever tempted to swing over to the other side? The Boss was certainly a tasty prize. Her tits were fabulous. Hell, he might be gay, but tits were tits…and hers were grade A awesome.
He refocused on the humming room. Snippets of conversations swirled around him “….and so i told Him if He wanted someone to lick His boots He should find a submissive that was a dog in a previous life…” amusing him. Nothing quite like a D/s party in full swing.
” ….Master let them all have a taste…”
“…and the little fucking whore sat there, mouth drooling….”
Gene smiled. How diverse those two conversations were…yet how similar. Everyone thought they were different…but they really were so alike.
He looked around, ignoring the shriek of a subgirl bound to a St. Andrews cross and having her back striped, and the wet slurpy sounds coming from a darkened corner. He knew the Master was standing, arms folded, leaning against the wall, as his slut serviced another. He focused on finding the Man he was seeking.
He knew her future Master was here. The trouble was sniffing him out from this crowd.
He honed in on the aura of the Man he sought. As he drove her across the room silently, he mused about the changes he himself had undergone in 48 hours. He’d been pretty bitter, stuck in that fucking fish. Vowed to only help because of the Djinni Code of Possession.
Somehow, she had softened him, calmed him. He wasn’t one to over analyze, but she’d worked a bit of magic herself, on him. Time to return that favor.
He stopped her forward movement by stepping in front of her.
She looked up at him, questioning. He traced his finger across her gently parted mouth, laying a line of soft pink lipstick there. The shimmering gleam of gold flecks drew attention to her full bottom lip. Simply succulent.
He slipped his hand over her eyes, and a shell-pink blindfold covered her.
“Gene…” Her voice was a whisper and a question.
He bent low to her ear.
“ssssh, Boss, trust me. ”
He left her there, stepping silently away, waiting.
He stood, unobtrusively as her future Master walked towards her. A vision in pink and white, an anomaly in the black-bedecked crowd.
And then there was the sign he’d ‘shazammed’ onto her…
“Are You my Master?”
Things were going to get interesting in 5…4….3….2…..
She stood, alone in the middle of the crowd. She felt fear and nerves, and a sense of hushed anticipation.
What the fuck did Gene have up his sleeve? That naughty genii had been all about re-awakening her lusty dark desires. How he’d discovered her submissive side, she didn’t know, but really, she still wasn’t completely sure how it was that he’d bullied her into attending this munch, either.
He was certainly a people manager.
And here she stood, alone in the middle of a crowd of pervie folks, in pink high heels, and pink and white lace. She couldn’t have stuck out more differently than if she’d come in here dressed as “church lady”…
She heard footsteps approaching.
No answer. Whomever it was, had walked around her. Now behind her, then on the other side of her. Circles. Circles around her. Oboy.
“Hello?” She damned herself for the nervous quiver in her voice. Where was the strong business leader? The footsteps passed behind her again.
“Pretty. Daring. Coming to a munch with this crowd and dressing in virginal colors. Takes a lot of cojones to do that…”
His voice was mid-ranged, and he was very much taller than her, even in the heels. She felt heat near her hands, cuffed behind her.
“Look at you, all wrapped up like an offering. Why, I could do just about anything to you, all goosed up like this…”
The words were terse and spoken from directly in front of her.
“hey, man, finders keepers…and she’s offerin’ herself here…”
“Trust me, you are NOT going to be doing this. I can take it up with Dwayne if you want. But the club really can’t afford another of your incidents, and I know you’ve been warned. Now, back. Off.”
“fuckers.” She reeled as she was pushed, hard, from behind. She fell forward, balanced precariously as she was on her heels, and blindfolded.
She was caught in strong arms.
They spoke at the same time. She thanked him for catching her, and he kept his arm around her, steering her away from the center of the room. He slid her blindfold off, while asking who the fuck had left her alone and unprotected like that.
Gene decided to show up and take that blame, before he could leave his brilliant matchmaking to run its merry path.
“Mistress! i am so sorry, i ran into a friend and got talking and i …are you okay?”
She looked up at him through narrowed eyes.
“Yes, Gene. Just fine. Gene, this is…” and she paused, fully looking at her ‘rescuer’ for the first time. He was only a few inches taller than her, and a bit stocky. His hair grayed at the temples, and thinned a bit at the top, but something about him just clicked for her.
“Bryant. You should know better than to leave your mistress unattended that way.”
“i’m terribly sorry Sir, i …” and Gene trailed off, looking appropriately appalled at himself.
“Go, Gene.” She looked up at him. The little genii ringer! She knew that Bryant had just been ‘played’. The least she could do was set him off to find his own amusement.
The clever bastard!
She explained to Bryant that she was merely ‘mentoring’ Gene as he looked for a partner, that he was gay and new in the area…and she felt herself blathering blithely on…until Sir B took his hand and put it up over her mouth to stop the flow of words.
Her eyes looked up into his amused ones.
“Done?” he asked, his hand still pressing firmly against her lips.
“Thank god. Are you here to play? Hook up with someone in particular? watch some demo’s?”
“uhmm. well…i’ve been out of the community for a while now. A long while. And…well, Gene kind of got me to come here as his mentor and..here i am.”
She felt his eyes digging into her. Like she was a soft shell crab and he the Master of the Sea. Like he could see all her needs and wants right there on her face.
“Well, since you’re all trussed up, how about a little spanking..just to get your evening off to a better start?”
“uhm…will You be doing this spanking, Sir?” she asked, almost shy. She really liked this guy.
“You didn’t think I rescued you just because I loathe Richard, did you? You’re a pretty intriguing package, girl.”
He took her arms and assisted her to the spanking bench. She was suddenly suffused with joy. She wondered where Gene had drifted off to…
Gene stood behind a support beam in the large open space, eyes focused on his “mistress”. Things were progressing so well. He could almost feel her pleasure as her soon-to-be new Master paddled her ass.
“come here alone, often?” The voice behind him startled him out of his reverie. He turned, and looked into the face of his Adonis.
For the first time in centuries, he was at a loss for words.
She wobbled a bit when she slid out of bed. Her knees were shaky. Her ass throbbed. Her wrists were tender. And gawd she needed, desperately, to pee.
“Where do you think you are going, little girl?” The sleepy voice of Bryant rose from the center of the bed.
“Sir, i really really realllllly need to pee.”
“uhm…if i don’t i’ll pee on the floor?”
He laughed. “Not My problem.”
“Please Sir may i go pee?” By now she was shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other.
“Of course you can, little girl. Scoot before you have an accident and I have to rub your nose in it…”
She bolted for the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door, and sat fast. On the rim of the toilet.
Men! and their stinking propensity for leaving the frigging seat up. Still, the moment the cold porcelain hit the back of her thighs it triggered the release of her urine. It felt like days since she had last pissed. The relief was blessed. Carefully she shifted to wipe, trying to not fall into the toilet.
“Better?”He asked as she came back into the bedroom. “Yes Sir, except for the seat being left up and my butt almost falling into the water…” she poked His ribs as she slid into bed.
He rolled on top of her, mock-wrestling her to her back, growling as he worked at capturing both of her hands in one of his, and tickling her ribs, armpits and belly.
“You aren’t complaining, are you sub?”
She yelped, giggled, snorted, guffawed, squirming like a squid.
She felt the burgeoning hardness of his cock against her thigh, and sighed with joy as he neatly slid between her thighs and into her wetness.
Gene listened to their sex-play from the bathroom. He’d come out of the friggin’ fish when the Boss had yelped. He wondered if he should be-spell the seat so it would always lower after a guy used it…but then again, it might not have precipitated the sexcapades he was hearing now if he did.
He’d had some sexcapades of his own last night, and wasn’t that a wonderful thing? Adonis, who was really Michael, and he had hit it off. Who knew? They’d had a long time of play, and Michael explained that he enjoyed switching his role from dominant to sub. Gene told him he enjoyed the same thing…and that he was feeling pretty dom at the moment.
Michael had fallen to his knees, and laid his forehead on Genes boots.
“Let me worship you, Master?”
Gene was taken aback. Master? How many years had he been the enslaved genii? To hear that word slip from his soon-to-be lovers lips was like honeyed mead. He smiled, and patted his subs head.
Not that it was a very “masterly” reply but there was a learning curve here, after all! Michael had kissed his way up Genes legs, until finally pressing his face into Gene’s crotch, inhaling deeply, and begging for permission to taste.
Which he quickly gave.
Hells bells it had been a long time since he’d felt a lovers lips wrapped around his cock! Michael had worshiped his shaft with skill, tenderness, and he swallowed, too.
There was spanking, and whip play, and a dabble with hot wax on his subbies cock and balls…and hadn’t Michael’s cock grown and thickened during that play?
In the end, they’d been wrapped in each others arms until the wee hours of the morning. They had kissed, tenderly, deeply, and parted.
Michael had begged for his number, his address, a way to be in contact….but he’s simply said “I’ll be back if I can,” and strode around the corner. Once there, he’d *poofed* back here, quietly emerging in the bathroom so as to not disturb the sleeping couple in the next room.
Who were far and away from sleeping now. He couldn’t resist peeking around the door…watching as the Boss was drilled hard and fast by her new Dom.
Little did she know how fast she and he would fall together. He could see their lifethreads already entangling. She would be in good hands here.
Now all he had to do was get her to finish with the wishes, and he could move on to his next owner. Wasn’t eternal servitude a bitch?
That night, she told Him everything.
He’d either think she was a total nutjob, or He’d get it. She told him about her trek to New England, the funky little antique store, and her binge on objects d’art.
And the Meissen fish in the bathroom. All about the Fish. And Gene. Genii.
He looked at her. She couldn’t quite read him.
“Look, Sir, i needed to tell you this because i need to do something, something extreme. And the only way it will work is by making a wish for it to happen. And when it happens…you’ll understand that i’m really not a nutjob. At least, i hope you will.”
“A genii. In a fish.”
“Right, one of his previous owners figured out how to move the capture spell to the fish, and it kept him there. Then they broke the original bottle, so he was trapped.”
“And you get three wishes?” He continued to look steadily at her.
She wasn’t sure if he was humoring her or not. Perhaps it was, at this point, a mere suspension of disbelief. That was okay. He only had to see one wish to make him believe. She hoped.
She rather doubted he would run. They’d been together for three weeks now, and not once had they reason to be apart other than work time. They braided their lives together so well that it was as if they had always been meant to find one another.
And she knew that Gene was finding something similar in Michael, whom he still called ‘my Adonis’. She could see that Gene was in love. Really in love, not just lust. She always saw the sadness in his eyes when he came home to the loft, too. And thank goodness she’d told about Gene’s origins last night, because this morning, Master had found him in the bathroom without hearing him ‘come in’ during the night. There was no other way to explain that except the truth, and she was glad she’d lain that in His hands *before* he’d found Gene.
Now, Gene stood against the long kitchen counter, one ankle crossing the other, hands in his pockets. She was trying to be calm, but underneath, her heart was racing, and she was sweating bullets.
She watched her Master’s gaze shift between them. It was time.
“Gene, i want you to switch my hair back to how it was when you first saw me, and then put it back the way it is now. Wait 3 minutes before you switch it back so Sir can see that it is real hair and not a wig or some other kind of trick.
Sir, please come stand beside me, so you can see both of us. ”
Once everyone was in place, she nodded to Gene. He made an elaborate show of waving his hands this way and that, weaving them in the air, around himself, into the air over his head.
Her tone was a bit…admonishing…but with a hint of giggle.
He smiled, slipped his hands back into his pockets. Her hair was back to the over-dyed blonde it had been upon their first meeting. Her Master threaded his hands into the mass and tugged. He checked every inch of her head.
“Change it back.”
Instantly her hair was long and red again. Again, Master searched her hair.
“Holy Gawd” was all He said.
He looked at her, cupping her chin in his hand.
“I believe you.”
She smiled up at Him, turning her cheek into that warmth.
“Then You agree?” She asked him softly.
She’d told him what she wanted, what she needed, because He’d demanded all of her. And Gene was a part of her, now.
He released her face from his grasp, and stepped away as she rose from the table. She went into the bathroom, and returned moments later, holding the porcelain fish behind her back.
“i’ve decided on my last wish, Genii.”
“Well, don’t blow it on Mr. Man over there, coz sweetie? He’s already yours, though I think you both know it already, yes?”
She smiled. “I do, and i can’t say thank you for that, not in thousands of words, over a thousand years. And i know that my last wish…releases us from each other. But you will always be my friend, and in my heart, Gene.”
“okay, so you’ve finally decided on the million dollars? The yacht? What?”
“Gene…you know me better than that.” She wisked her hand from behind her back, holding the fish in the palm of her hand.
“I wish you to be free to be human, living with your love, Michael.”
And with that she threw the fragile china fish to the concrete floor with all the force she could muster.
There was a loud *BOOM* and smoke filled the kitchen.
The sounds of coughing from various points around the room alerted her that everyone had survived that surprising turn of events.
Waving her hands, she could see the smoke was clearing, fast. In a moment, it was all gone. Master was a few feet from her, with a somewhat frantic look on His face. He grabbed her into a bear hug, squeezing her tightly.
“Gene” she managed to gasp out when he gave her room to breathe again.
“here…” came a quiet voice behind her. He stood, looking as before. Except he was smiling. Clearly joyful, she watched as he twirled.
“HUMANNNNNN” he hollered as he spun.
“HUMMMMMAAAANNNNNN! and FREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
He twirled, laughing, until, dizzy, he teetered and fell to the kitchen floor. His hand landed on a shattered bit of glass, and he winced.
“OUwwwww!” He held up his bleeding palm. She took his hand, wiping at the small smudge of blood with a tissue from her pocket, kissing his palm softly, and smiling as he winced.
“Baby!” she teased him gently.
And the doorbell rang.
“Better go and get that,” his former Boss said, laughing with delight..
“i think your destiny has found you…at last.”