djinn-djinni
ADULT HUMOR

Djinn Djinni

Djinn Djinni

by flipnmelonfarmer
20 min read
4.11 (5000 views)
adultfiction
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* All participants in sexy sex are over the age of 18. Apologies to Mr. David Bowie for the title. *

It might have appeared that Tom was one of those people who are born to lose. By all rights, he should have had everything in the world going for him, but that was far from being the case.

His father was the only blacksmith for miles around their prosperous little burg and so their family was quite well-off, having one of the only houses in the town that had glass windows. You would expect that Tom would have followed in his father's trade and become just as successful, attracting a good wife and raising a family of his own.

But Tom was a sickly child and seemed to never develop any muscles. At eighteen, he looked like a much younger boy and nothing like his strapping mountain of a father. That actually caused some talk in the town, but Tom's mother was adamant that she had never lain with anyone other than her husband.

Tom was at least fairly intelligent, if not particularly quick-witted, so he was apprenticed to the most successful local merchant. A life as a lowly clerk wouldn't make him rich and might not get him a good wife but he wouldn't starve and he wouldn't have to depend on his family.

He seemed unlikely to form his own, however, as the girls in the village, all of whom he had known since they were children, seemed to regard him as being something less than husband material. Sarah, a lovely brunette and his best friend growing up, seemed to have set her cap on the son of the constable, who was likely to take his father's place if his father got the appointment to the court guard that he was seeking.

He saw his more robust male contemporaries capturing the rest of the available girls, pairing off with them to start their own families and futures together, while he worked his drudgery of a job and contemplated his reduced prospects.

After work one mild summer's eve, Tom slowly walked home to his father's house, which was set just a mile from the town. He was in no particular hurry, and in fact was dreading going home and being derided again as a weakling by his father. He seemed to do it out of habit now, as it was clear that no amount of cajoling or shaming was going to make Tom suddenly sprout muscles or dexterity.

As Tom walked through a clearing in the woods, he idly glanced down at the clover growing on either side of the path and wondered how long it would be before the local rabbit population ate it down to nothing. Then he stopped short, sure he had seen something extraordinary.

Sure enough, as he bent down to look more closely, he found the four-leaf clover he was sure he'd seen. What fortune! It was well-known throughout the lands that one could wish on a four-leaf clover and it would invariably come true.

Now, a cleverer lad might have come up with a wish that would have ended his travails and landed him where he wanted to be -- wealthy, healthy and married to Sarah (or some other local girl, he honestly wasn't that picky).

But during his long nights of introspection, when he bemoaned his fate and the cruelty of the world, he had started to blame his circumstances on his own lack of physical gifts. In fact, his obsession had narrowed its focus down to specific areas. A specific body part, to be honest. He was convinced that if he were, shall we say, better endowed, his fortune would be made.

So, grasping the four-leaf clover in his hand and closing his eyes tight, he raised his face to the setting sun, and made his wish. He wished he was blessed with a bigger dick than anyone around his town had ever seen.

There were a number of issues with this wish, some of which are probably obvious to you, dear reader. But the one that came to haunt Tom was one that might not be as apparent. When nothing immediately happened, he sighed and went on home, looking forward to the supper that his mother would be making.

It wasn't until he was trying to fall asleep on his pallet that night that he started feeling a tingle in his crotch. He was sure it was his imagination at first, as he had been thinking lascivious thoughts about the beauteous Sarah. But soon he realized that his cock really did seem to be growing.

And growing. And growing. And growing.

By the time the tingling stopped, he stood up and realized that his penis now hung down below his knees! He went outside to the privy and stroked his cock and it grew even more, until it was eighteen inches long, as big around as his upper arm and hard as a rock.

It finally struck him that, being surrounded by farmland, he should have been more specific in his wish, like maybe a bigger dick than any other *human* in the area. With the bulls and horses and donkeys and other farmyard animals around, clearly people had seen some *big* dicks!

Tom wasn't exactly displeased by his situation, although ideally he had hoped for something half the size of his new endowment. Using both hands, and thinking about Sarah, he worked the skin up and down until he covered the ground around him with spunk. Then he went back to his pallet on the floor and laid down, vowing as he fell asleep that he would find a way to put his new cock to good use.

The next morning, he walked into town with a much jauntier step than usual, anticipating the sudden change in fortune that he was sure such a prodigious unit would produce. So he was somewhat taken aback that nothing seemed to change. Young women weren't throwing their arms around his waist, begging him to pleasure them. The men he passed didn't look at him with some new-found respect.

It hit him that a massive new cock meant nothing if no one knew about it. And the baggy trousers that he (and every other man in the village) wore were not particularly revealing of his groinal area, so to speak. What was the point of having the world's largest unit if no one was aware of it?

He considered just walking into the tavern after work and dropping trou, but realized that would probably get his ass beaten rather than excite any potential mates. Instead he tried walking through the town square while pulling the back of his trouser leg back so that the outline of his enormous dick was obvious to anyone that might look.

That did not quite get the reaction that our friend Tom was looking for. He heard some gasps, which encouraged him, but they were followed by titters, chuckles, and not a few outright guffaws! He couldn't understand it! Then he heard whispers of "zucchini" and "gourd" and "delicata squash" (seriously, I wouldn't kid you about a thing like that) and he realized that everyone thought he'd stuffed a vegetable down his pants.

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After such a fine start to the day, Tom headed home in a much more melancholy mood. He now possessed the biggest dick anyone had ever seen, but it seemed to be of no use to him. He slowly walked the path towards home, eyes downcast.

Near where he had found the cursed four-leaf clover, he caught a glimpse of something as the late afternoon sunlight glinted off of something shiny. He stopped and stepped over to see what it was.

It proved to be an old brass oil lamp, probably fallen off a tinker's cart as he went from town to town. It had seen better days and Tom idly rubbed it against his sleeve to see if he could shine it up and maybe sell it for a silver penny or two.

Suddenly, he felt the lamp twitch and smoke began pouring out of it. He almost dropped it but hung on, despite doubling over, coughing uncontrollably. When he finally wiped his eyes and raised up, he was faced with an apparition the likes of which he had never seen.

There was the figure of a man floating before him, a powerful man with arms like Tom's blacksmith father's but where he should have had legs, he faded into smoke. He was dressed outlandishly, wearing a silken blouse and robe and with a turban covering his head above a neatly-trimmed beard.

"You have released me from the lamp, Master. I will grant you three wishes, after which I will be free and be able to get the hell outta this dump. Sheesh, what a pig-sty!" said the figure.

Tom cowered away from the apparition, his arms raised to cover himself in case he was attacked. When it became clear that that was unlikely, he lowered them and looked more closely. "What the hell are you, sir?" he asked.

The djinni (for that is what I'm sure you have realized already that it was) looked at Tom with undisguised disdain and replied, "I am the djinni of the lamp, Master. I thought I kind of made that clear. Are you perhaps dull-witted? That will make this whole transaction interesting."

Tom straightened up at that, being rightfully offended at the tone being taken by this being that was, on paper at least, enthralled to him for at least a short period of time. He gathered himself and took a deep breath to calm down and think. Wishes had been mentioned, and he wanted to avoid the mistakes of the past couple of days.

"I believe you mentioned three wishes, did you not, oh djinni of the lamp? What are the conditions surrounding those wishes?" Tom said, feeling himself clever that this time he was doing a little research first.

The djinni looked at him coolly. "Conditions? Oh, I guess there are a couple of them. You can't wish for additional wishes. You can't wish for something unlimited, like infinite wealth or boundless love. Everything has limits, including the djinn. And, dude, don't go asking for something that doesn't exist in this time, like a flying car or a jetpack. I don't know why everyone seems to want a fucking flying car," the djinni practically muttered the last comment to himself.

Tom had no idea what this strange creature meant by half of what he said, but he thought he had the gist of it. He thought about his predicament with his prodigious unit and started to use a wish to undo his clover-fueled wish. But then he thought better of it.

"Okay, for my first wish, I'd like all the women in the villa-" he stopped himself, realizing that he was about to make another big mistake. He wanted women to want him, but did he really want the gammers and hags chasing after him? Or his own mother?

"Sorry, let me start again. For my first wish, I'd like all the young, attractive women in the village to fall madly in love and lust with me," Tom said and as the last syllable took flight, the djinni nodded and grinned. If Tom had been paying more attention, he might have noted that it was a somewhat evil grin.

"It is done, Master. What about wish number two?"

Tom was smarter than that. "Hey, don't rush me. Let me check the results of this wish out first. After I get a good night's sleep." He walked the rest of the way home, passed a pleasant evening with his mother and father and slept a dreamless sleep.

Now you, a modern, experienced sort, might have spotted some issues with Tom's wish. "Attractive" and "young" are very subjective terms, and it might have led to cute toddlers or women that were only attractive to their mothers chasing after him. But the djinni played it straight, knowing that he didn't even need to be tricky on this one.

The next day seemed pretty ordinary and Tom wondered if the djinni had failed, or if the whole thing had been a silly dream. He had the lamp in his sack with his meager lunch, just in case. Nothing seemed different or out of the ordinary while in the merchant's office but he realized that he hadn't really seen any young, attractive females around.

He decided to resolve that issue and to stop off at the tavern after work, where he knew Sarah and some of her friends would be working. His entrance finally had the desired effect, as Sarah and the other two barmaids converged on him, along with the surprisingly cute red-headed pig girl that had stopped in for an ale.

Sarah wrapped her arms around him and got a kiss in before the other girls tackled him and started pawing at his clothes. He could feel his newly-massive member start to rise, despite the odor of Pig Girl (let's face it, with bathing more than once a week being a luxury, they all were pretty ripe).

The girls dragged him into one of the back rooms (Tom had often wondered what went on in them -- his imagination was clearly seriously lacking). They pulled his shirt off, exposing his scraggly chest which sported only a few dark hairs. The women didn't seem to mind.

Then Sarah knelt in front of him and jerked his trousers down to his knees. His massive dick sprang up, which she nimbly dodged, thereby escaping serious injury. The young women gasped and stared at the wonder before them. They quickly shed their own garments, vying with each other to see who could get naked first.

Martha, who was engaged to be married to the local baker, was first to disrobe and took that opportunity to pull Tom into an embrace and a deep kiss. It felt to her like she was trying to kiss someone over a fence, with Tom's fencepost of a cock digging into her taut belly. She broke off the kiss and looked down, salivating.

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Then the realization hit her that she was about as likely to get even just the tip of that thing into her mouth as she would a watermelon. She stepped back a little, disappointed, and Sarah stepped in front of Tom, taking her own kisses from him while using both hands to stroke his pole, which was nestled between her abundant breasts and almost hitting her chin.

When Lara, the tavern-keeper's daughter, knelt between his legs and started lapping at his balls, he knew he was going to erupt soon. That 'soon' became 'immediately' when Ruth the Pig Girl pushed her bare breasts into his back and slid a finger into his asshole. He yelped and came, firing a volley of jizz that splattered all over Sarah's huge tracts of land and dripped down onto blonde Lara's face, nearly drowning her. Ruth, standing safely behind him, just laughed while Martha looked jealous and a little left out.

Tom was having the best day of his life. What was even better was that his erection really didn't waver after cumming so hard. He was ready to finally fuck one of these delicious young women that he had fantasized about for so many years (okay, maybe he hadn't thought much about Ruth, but now that he really saw the little red-head despite the smell, and ok, the splattered pig-shit, he realized she was pretty hot).

He looked over at the women, thinking about who he would like to be his first, when he realized that they had their heads together, talking intently, sometimes seeming to argue. Occasionally one of them would glance his way, then turn back to the other women. He smugly convinced himself that they were drawing lots to see who got him first.

When they finally turned to face him, he thought that he might have been mistaken, given the serious looks on all their faces. He was sitting on the edge of the dirty, unmade bed as they came over, having apparently elected Sarah as their leader.

"Tom, we all, for some unknown reason, suddenly love you more than you can ever imagine and we all want you to ravage us with your huge, beautiful cock, but we don't think you will fit into any of us," Sarah said, looking sadly at her childhood friend. "We're not sure what to do about it."

"Oh, balderdash, girl!" cried Lara. "Just because you've got a tiny cunt doesn't mean that all of us are lacking. Tom, honey, lay down and let Lara take care of that prick."

Sarah looked like she was ready to spit nails but Tom did as he was told, laying back on the lumpy mattress, stained from previous encounters that he decided he didn't want to dwell on. Lara climbed up on the bed and stood over him, straddling his waist. Martha and Ruth lifted Tom's cock off his chest until it was standing straight up, touching it to Lara's pussy lips even though she was standing with her legs straight.

"Holy shit!" Ruth exclaimed. "That is some damn prick!" Lara's pussy was wet and dripping and she rubbed herself back and forth across the crown of Tom's lumber, lubricating the tip. Martha and Sarah just stood next to each other with their arms folded, looking on smugly and knowing the inevitable outcome.

Lara tried to lower herself onto Tom's cock, but of course as you've probably surmised, she got nowhere. Vaginas are amazing elastic but the head of Tom's dick was now much bigger than a baby's head -- and it's a safe bet that no woman in history wants to be stretched quite *that* much, at least not for pleasure.

After a few more attempts, Lara gave it up as a lost cause, getting sneers from Martha and Sarah, Ruthie, not being the brightest of the bunch, decided that somehow she could make it work, despite being considerably smaller than Lara. She couldn't even straddle it without leaning it forward over his chest. And of course, she had no better success than her rival.

Tom finally realized again that he'd squandered an opportunity. He let out a cry of anguish, dismayed that again he'd not foreseen the consequences of his wishes. He pushed Ruth aside and threw his trousers on, stomping through the main room of the tavern and out into the town square.

Sarah dressed quickly and followed him, catching his hand as he reached the path homeward. "Tom, stop, let's think about this. Surely we can find an answer."

Tom turned and looked at her sadly. "I'm afraid there are no answers, Sarah. And stop calling me 'Shirley'." Then a lightbulb went on over his head, which was a little weird since they hadn't been invented yet. He realized that he still had wishes to wish.

He pulled the lamp out of his sack and rubbed it, bring forth the djinni. Sarah could not see it and was pretty sure that the stress of the day was taking its toll on the sanity of her friend as he started talking to someone that wasn't there.

Tom looked at the djinni and said, without a lot of thought, "I wish Sarah was big enough for me- no, wait, big enough for my cock to fit inside her."

There was a small thunderclap and Sarah heard a disembodied voice say, "Done. One wish left, Master."

Sarah was sure that Tom had lost his mind, until she started feeling tingling in her joints. Her clothing started to feel tight on her and she unlaced her bodice so that she could breathe. That didn't help for long, as the seams started to rip, and Tom started to look a lot shorter than usual.

Sarah grew out of her clothes and continued to grow until she finally stood up, her eyes level with the rooflines of the one-story buildings on that side of the square, her voluminous breasts as large as haystacks, her thighs as big around as silos. Tom could hear the djinni chuckle.

Tom quickly realized his mistake in not being more specific about what *part* of Sarah he wanted to grow. The djinni just did some simple math. If an average cock is 6 inches long and Tom's was now 18 inches, Sarah would need to be three times bigger. So now she towered over Tom at sixteen feet tall, looking down on the scrawny man that she was still obligated to lust after.

Heedless of the growing crowd of townspeople come out to see why a giant was attacking their village, Sarah pushed Tom over into his back and straddled him, a knee on either side of his chest. She lifted his cock to the entrance of her pussy and slid it all the way in at one go. She was obviously not a virgin (she was a barmaid, after all) but Tom was and he howled in ecstasy, despite the horror of the giantess now riding him.

She rode him hard, filled with djinni-induced love and lust, despite not really being able to see Tom unless she held her breasts apart. And Tom did his best to thrust back, surrounded by her meaty, mighty thighs, although it was the size of his tool that did most of the work. He did reach up and rub the protuberance at the top of her pussy with both hands, not really knowing what the hell it was but liking her reaction.

Sarah threw her head back and gave a howl as her thighs squeezed hard around Tom, so hard he limped for days afterward from a dislocated hip. But the exertions were enough that he came hard, reveling in the feeling of his jizz shooting into Sarah's giant-sized cunt.

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