***Author's Note***
This story is a companion piece to my earlier story "Wish Granted" and any stories in the "Wish Granted" series.
You don't have to read those to understand this story. They are all meant to make sense individually, as well as together.
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A small woman of light golden skin, deep crescent eyes, and dark chocolate hair, stirred drops of red into the cauldron of her Hong Kong home. She wore a short black dress with a witch's hat, and a pair of fluffy socks.
"Now, what's next here..." she spoke aloud to herself, perhaps also to her black lab puppy, who was nuzzled against her feet.
The woman slid her fingers across the braille of her floating spellbook.
"Ooh, swan feathers? Haven't used those in a while."
"Or 'black magic' in a while..." an unknown man's voice sounded in the room.
Every nearby utensil rose, directed at the man.
The witch turned toward the sound. Spots of shadow marked the otherwise well-lit haze the witch had moments before.
He laughed. "It's all right, Lily."
"Genie?" the utensils flew back to their places. "Goddamn. I could've killed you."
"Definitely not."
"Where have you been?!"
"Just now? Helping a precious Algerian fuck the tentacle God in the South of France."
"Wha--whatthefuck... I don't even know what to do with that... but what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to grant your wish, of course!" the genie laughed. "You know, those giant snake beasts."
He made a little hissing sound and giggled more.
"But I can't leave Pascal alone that long." The puppy chewed upon the fluffy socks.
"It won't be long at all... And besides, you know he's tired."
Well, he was tired...
"Hmm..." Lily thought a moment, and directed her puppy to his crate in the bedroom. "Okay, Pascal. Mama will be gone an hour at most, and if you need anything, just let me know."
She sealed the crate with magic, and returned to the kitchen, covering her cauldron and placing it on low.
"Okay," Lily turned to the vague shadow of a genie, "an hour at most. At. Most."
"Rather demanding with this, but I wouldn't disappoint a puppy."
With that, they appeared upon some type of rainforest floor.
Plants nestled against the witch's socks, the scent of fresh rain kissing her nose, animals scattering through the trees.
Then, she heard it. She felt it.
The slithering of something. Many somethings. All whipping toward her.
She gasped at the snake tongues upon her cheeks, her neck, her forehead, all taking in her warm, sugar-and-spice air.
"I'll be near," the genie called to her, "if you need me, if you don't."
"Mhm.." the witch slid off her socks, and removed her hat to slip off her dress, placing everything upon the ground and charming it to find it later.
Fangs got to her panties before she did, guiding the soft fabric down her legs.
"Hell. Yes."
Her hands trailed up to a snake head, which she kissed just before another snake darted beneath her body and tossed her upon itself.
The slick wetness between her thighs rested on the creature's tight, scaly form.
She carefully rose, delicate feet roaming up the scaly body.
Giant shadow figures slithered closer to her, light dancing in and out of the rainforest with their moves.
Scales wrapped around her waist. She threw her legs wide open, wet as the Amazon River, and held them out in the crisp air with a godlike strength, unwavering in her uplifted position.
