Bound: the Gift of Desire

Chapter 4 - The Genie and the Curse

The rising sun's light brightened George's attic bedroom, filling the space with a pleasant warmth. His alarm had not yet sounded, but George was finally awake after what had to be at least ten uninterrupted hours of sleep. Feeling more rested and refreshed than ever, he tightened his blanket and relished the coziness for several minutes, enjoying the new and exciting feeling of well-being.

His thoughts drifted to the fantastic dream of his perfect woman. His silent, enigmatic guardian had blossomed into a golden goddess. Her cute, breathy voice bounced around in his brain like she'd been speaking to him all night. She gazed at him with gorgeous, bright blue eyes gleaming with affectionate reverence.

George rolled over and reached across the bed, hoping to find her beside him. But of course, he felt nothing but his bed sheets. George let out a sad sigh. It wasn't as though he expected her to be there, but it was still disappointing. Since the sun had mostly risen and he was fully awake, George sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He rubbed the grogginess from his eyes, stretched his taut, muscular body, and pondered the nature of this mysterious woman.

George froze, remembering suddenly that he wasn't taut or muscular. He looked down and started grabbing parts of his body, feeling supple skin over ropey coils of solid muscle. He poked, prodded, flexed, and stretched, wiggling his fingers and toes. His body responded appropriately, and there wasn't one iota of pain. He knew then that he had to be dreaming.

But then he noticed the state of his room. To say that a hurricane had passed through wouldn't have been a stretch. The circular window remained shattered, and pools of rainwater soaked the floor. His posters had been torn down, and some of the ugly wallpaper was coming off in sheets. Anything lighter than a bowling ball was strewn haphazardly around the room.

Suddenly, there was a movement to his right, and before he could react, his bed shifted as the girl from last night landed next to him.

"Good morning, master!" said the woman in a chipper voice.

"Gyah!" cried George in surprise as he rolled off the bed away from her, crashing on the floor.

Dazed momentarily, George breathed heavily as he struggled to convince himself that what he'd just seen wasn't real. He grabbed his forehead and shook what he hoped was a moment of crazy from his foggy brain.

However, as soon as he chanced looking up, he saw the gloriously happy face of his dream girl smiling down at him over the edge of the bed. "Hi," she said, smiling brightly with her eyes.

George scrambled across the floor to get away from the intruder. His heart was thumping as the panic overtook his wits, and he hoped that as soon as he turned around, he'd have reclaimed his fortress of solitude. He jumped to his feet and looked toward the bed. And this time, it was empty.

He breathed a heavy sigh of relief and allowed himself to calm down. "Get a grip, George," he told himself. He scanned the room, looking for signs of her, but she seemed to have disappeared. "It's okay," he breathed. "You're not crazy...this is probably just a dream." He continued to peer around the disaster that was his room and mutter to himself for comfort. "Yeah... you're just having one of those sleep paralysis things...and your demon is a..."

But the girl was suddenly on him, and before he could cry out, she threw her arms around his neck and mashed her lips against his. "Mmmph!" he groaned. His senses were alive with her. He could smell the sweet jasmine in the air, taste her fresh breath against his tongue, and feel the flesh of her curvy hips mold against his hands. Any resistance he might have mustered melted into nothing, and his thoughts became blissfully quiet. George's cornered animal turned into a submissive puppy under the power of her embrace and the passion of her kiss. He had no idea how it happened, but when she let him go, he was lying on his bed with her on top.

"There. That's better, huh?" she cooed.

A million questions blitzed through George's thoughts, but he couldn't voice any of them over his mounting desire for more. The woman yelped in surprise when he pulled her into an even more intense kiss. He ran his hands over the skin of her back and her blue diaphanous dress. Her breasts squished into his chest, the flesh bulging from the sides of her slender frame. He hadn't had a spicy dream in a long time, and like a starving wolf, he forgot himself and indulged without restraint. His bed had become a sea of desire in which George was happily drowning.

But then, she ran her fingers through the white streak in his hair. Deeply reinforced shame set off self-conscious alarms, forcing his annoyingly rational brain to turn back on and take charge of the situation. There was a girl in his room, on his bed, making out with him like a horny teenager.

Despite his body's powerful need for her, George somehow broke away. "Wait, wait, wait..." he blathered and tried to push her away gently.

But the mysterious young woman had no such reservations. Despite his half-hearted attempts to bring reality back to his bedroom, she continued kissing his cheek, forehead, lips, and anywhere else she could reach. Between her quick smooches, she said, "I waited all night for you to wake up. I missed you so badly, but I'm not allowed to disturb the Master's Rest." He could feel her hot needy pussy grinding against his shaft as she rolled her hips. "Please take me," she moaned in a lust-filled whisper. "I've waited so long. Please, Master."

That was the magic word that galvanized George into action. He had to make sense of this situation and fast. He rolled on top of her and pinned her wrists above her head. She struggled, but not to break free. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist and craned her neck to kiss him again, whining with need all the way.

"Stop," he ordered firmly.

She obeyed immediately. Though she didn't lose that lustful look in her eyes, she ceased her struggle and lay still. She pouted cutely and said, "Ooh, master, have I been a bad girl?"

"What?" he asked, befuddled. "N-No. I mean... just hold on a second."

Then, her expression changed from lustful to serious when she finally identified his confusion. Her eyes widened, and she exclaimed, "Oh, no!" And with a whoosh of the breeze, she turned into pink mist and disappeared, only to reappear with a puff of similarly sparkly smoke in the middle of the room.

There, illuminated by the morning sun peeking through the broken window, stood the most beautiful woman George had ever seen. He'd only managed fleeting glimpses of her until then, but now he could appreciate her in all her glory. She stood about five and a half feet tall, with long feathery hair, golden brown in color like shiny cast bronze. Her exotic upturned eyes were as blue as the summer sky. She had a delicate diamond-shaped face, with a tiny smattering of freckles and soft, kissable lips, as George could already attest. She had a slim but curvy figure, with a trim waist to her comparably wide hips. Her proportions seemed almost impossible, with healthy amounts of plump cushion where she needed it and none where she didn't. She was a delicate balance between every extreme and the picture of a happy, healthy, radiant young woman. She wore a silky, partially see-through garment in a style not unlike those worn by Hollywood's depiction of harem girls in ancient Middle Eastern cultures or, a more modern example, Japanese anime. It was as blue as her eyes and faded into pinks and purples at the edges. It left her shoulders and thighs bare, with a highly generous display of cleavage through a strategically cut window.

The mysterious beauty gave him an elaborate and graceful bow and said, "My apologies, Master. I didn't mean to be so eager. I just wanted to calm you down, but once you kissed me back... I may have forgotten myself. I await your punishment."

This did nothing to dispel his confusion. With a raised eyebrow, he said, "Punishment? Miss... I don't even know who you are."

In response, she dropped out of her bow with a crestfallen slump. "Shoot," she muttered as she rolled her eyes. "I practiced this all night, and now I'm mucking it up." She sighed, flattened out a wrinkle in her dress, teased her fingers through her hair, and asked, "Could I try this again, Master? I had a whole thing prepared."

"Uh... sure?" he said cluelessly.

"Thanks." She rolled her shoulders, shook out her hands, then fixed her posture and centered herself. "Okay, okay," she mumbled, then took a deep breath and began again. "Greetings, Master, and thank you for activating my vessel. I am your humble Jinniya servant, bound to you by primordial law. And I am at your command." She repeated her bow from earlier. "I am ready to join your harem, and I think, to that end, you'll find me highly useful. If you'd please direct me to it, I can begin my duties."

George swallowed a lump in his throat. "My...harem?"

"Mmm-hmm. I hoped to introduce myself to everyone before you awoke; get it all ready for you... but I couldn't find it. I looked everywhere, too."

He blushed. "I don't have one of those."

"You don't?" she asked. George shook his head, and the beauty immediately relaxed. "Oh, thank goodness," she sighed. "I felt so stupid! I thought I'd lost an entire harem! Does that mean... I'm your first?"

"I guess..."

"EEEEE!" she squealed and bounced in place with explosive excitement. "Oh my gosh! This is even better than I hoped! I get to help build the harem from scratch!"

George was beginning to think they were talking past each other. Though utterly enchanted by her enthusiasm, he needed to return to the beginning again. "Wait, wait, wait... What's a Jinniya?"

"You know...a Jinniya," she said as if that was all she needed to say to clear up the confusion. But George just cocked his eyebrow and waited for her to clarify. Then she added, "Elemental? Immortal? Embodiment of raw magic?" But each detail did little to help George. "Hmmm," she thought, "We grant wishes?"

"Oh," he said finally. "You mean like a genie?"

"A genie?" she held her chin in thought. "Is that the word?"

"Yeah, like in the stories. They live in a magic lamp and grant three wishes."

She scoffed, "Only three? What kind of primordial cosmic being is that? No, no, no. There is no limit to the number of wishes you can make. I am empowered to serve you for all time if you allow it."

"Really?" he asked, taken aback.

"Uh-huh," she nodded cutely. "But Genie is close enough. There are, however, a few stipulations, rules, some quid pro quos, if you will. Shall I elaborate?"

George was utterly convinced that this was a dream--either that or some intricate prank by Connor and his goons. But if so, they had really outdone themselves this time. He indicated with a polite wave that she could continue.

"As you wish," she said happily. Then she blushed and added, "Oh, I like how that sounds. *Ahem* Anyway, number one: I cannot return someone from the dead. The veil of death is a barrier that neither I nor anyone else can cross."

George felt an icy chill rush through him. He hadn't thought of his father until then, but she'd squashed any ideas he may have had to that effect before he'd entertained them. It was probably for the best, he thought.

She continued. "Item B: I cannot travel backward in time. I can only go forward at the usual rate... or perhaps slightly slower if the need arises."

"The usual rate? Like...what we're doing right now?"

"Yep," she chirped. "Time is kind of a jerk anyhow. It gets really pissy when it doesn't get its way. Best to just let it do its thing."

"Naturally," he said, playing along.

"And lastly, cosmic edict 7-C sub-section epsilon: I may only grant wishes of a romantic or sexual nature. Any wish I grant must be in service to love, sex, or at least some kind of physical or emotional pleasure for someone... or pain if that's your thing."

That was enough for George. This wacky scenario had to be some kind of weird sex dream his perverted brain had cobbled together. "And I suppose you're here to fulfill all my wildest fantasies," he said sarcastically.

She flashed him a seductive look and stepped forward. "You opened my vessel and set me free. For that kindness, I would do anything."

George cautiously leaned away from her. "Anything?"

She nodded. "I was created to be the perfect companion for my master, to protect them, to bear them many healthy children, and to lead their harem." When she reached George, she knelt between his legs and ran her soft hands over his thighs, making him shiver. Then she made her voice low and soothing, sending pleasant sensations down his spine. "Nothing would please me more than satisfying your every carnal desire, as often as you want, for as long as you wish."

George shifted nervously, her hungry look and sultry voice rendering him nearly helpless. If this was a dream, it was a very good dream. And if it were a prank, the punchline would be a doozy. He swallowed the lump in his throat once more and asked, "Connor didn't put you up to this, did he?" She smiled gently and shook her head. "Lacy, then? Are you one of her friends?"

"Master, I don't even know who those people are, but I assure you, this is very real." To illustrate her point, she massaged the tender space between his thighs. "I was set free by your desires, given flesh from your fantasies, and I exist in symbiotic harmony with your will." Then she grinned and bobbed her head playfully. "Which is a fancy way of saying that I look and act the way I do because it's what compliments you the best. I mean, just look at me. Am I not what you wished for?"

"Wish? What wish?"

"The one you made last night, silly. You said, quote, I wish for you to live, and so I do. The details were a little vague, and my vessel had to fill in some gaps here and there, but I think it did a good job. What do you think?"

It was true that she bore an uncanny resemblance to the girl he'd been seeing in his dreams for years. Everything about her seemed perfect, down to the most minute details, like the number of freckles on her nose and how the light refracted through her hair. Even her voice, though he'd never heard his dream girl say a word, matched her perfectly. It was as if someone had ripped her out of his unconscious mind. George retraced the events from the previous evening and mulled over the implications. It was all too much, and he kept expecting to wake up whenever she touched him.

Sensing his distress, the woman frowned and asked, "Are you okay? The pain hasn't returned, has it?"

"No, I feel fine, I guess. I... Wait, why am I okay? Why is the pain gone? And how do you know about it? Nobody else even believes me."

She stood, then climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist and resting her arms on his shoulders. "I told you last night. Don't you remember? In order to save you from the curse, I had to become bound to you. Now that I am, unless something happens to separate us, which is extremely difficult, my magic will protect you and keep the curse at bay."

"You mean it's gone?" he whispered.

She nodded. "It will never bother you again so long as I'm with you. I swear it."

George could hardly believe it. He'd lived so long with the pain gnawing away at his spirit; now it was as if it never existed. There was a sudden pang of overwhelming dread as he told himself it wasn't true. She was lying or mistaken. The pain would come back any moment. But then, it didn't. There was nothing but the chirping birds outside, the light from the sun, and the warmth flowing between him and his new companion.

And then, he felt a new emotion he hadn't felt in ages. It came on him so strongly that it scared him. Like a prisoner in solitary confinement now breathing free air, he didn't know what to do with it. Happiness. Pure, unfettered, guilt-free happiness. He fought the urge to cry initially, but every moment without pain felt like the greatest gift.

"May I hug you?" asked the beauty in his lap.

He stammered, "I... I'm not...I mean...why?"

"Because," she said, "you look like you could really use one, and... I'm brand new. I've never hugged anyone before."

"O-Okay," he nodded without thinking.

She leaned in, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her body against him. "It's going to be okay," she whispered. "I know it's been hard, but I'm here to make it better."

George couldn't hold it back any longer. Tears fell down his cheeks, and his voice caught in his throat. "Can I hug you back?" he asked.

"Of course," she whispered.

With trembling hands, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her.

She responded by clutching him even more tightly and spoke to him softly. "This is no dream. This is real. I'm here now. You're not alone." They stayed that way for several minutes, allowing George to bask in the new sensation of well-being. And the longer they hugged, the more he believed her. Overwhelmed, George wept quietly, the usual negative voices silent. There was just him and his companion, holding each other. He'd never needed anything more than her in that moment.

After a while, she pulled away just enough to look at him, her sparkling eyes alive with adoration. "Now that we've been properly acquainted, may I kiss you?"

He wiped his eyes and replied, "You don't need to do that."

She smiled and whispered, "Yes, I do."

Needing no further coaxing, George nodded, and the two leaned in for a slow, gentle kiss. He was blindsided before and did what came naturally. But this time, George was keenly aware of every subtle movement of her tongue, every taste of her lips, the heat from her breath, the moans from her throat. His heart fluttered, his spine tingled, and his toes curled. But gradually, those sensations drifted into the background until there was just her. It was a new, gloriously intimate connection he'd only read about, and it was so much better than he had imagined.

Making out with a pretty girl sitting in his lap had the expected reaction. She felt his cock harden for her and grinned. "I want you," she breathed.

And he wanted her right back. What he didn't want was to stop kissing her and merely groaned with approval. She leaned on him until he fell back into the bed. George was in an awkward position with his legs dangling off the side, but the entire bed seemed to shift under him to scoop him up to let him get comfortable. They rolled over so he was on top, making out as they went until her legs were locked around him like before. Only this time, George had no intention of slowing things down. He could feel the heat from her sex as she coaxed him into grinding against it, and he was harder than he'd ever been.

But then, they heard several loud knocks on his bedroom door, and the pair froze.

"George," called his mother, "are you up?"

He looked down at the beauty and realized he was not floating on a cloud made of fairy dust. He was in his room, in the house he shared with his mother, and he'd need to get ready for school soon. He tried to check the time and cursed when he realized his alarm clock had been chucked to the floor with the rest of his possessions. It was still barely plugged in and flashing twelve after being reset. He leaped off the beauty beneath him and started cleaning frantically.

"I'm up, Mom," he replied, "I'm just getting ready."

"Okay, well, come unlock your door. I have laundry for you."

George's eyes went wide. He turned to the woman and said, "You need to hide."

The young beauty didn't share his worry but complied enthusiastically nonetheless. She disappeared in a puff of pink smoke and reappeared in front of him with a pop, startling George and making him jump. But instead of hiding, her lust had the better of her, and she resumed kissing him while teasing the waistband of his pajamas. Despite George's panic, she managed to distract him quite easily, and the two were making out again amidst the chaos of his destroyed room.