Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie (22 page)

I was about to walk over to Kimberly, and lay the “let’s just be friends” line on her before I lost control, when I realized that a woman was calling to me. “CAPTAIN AMERICA, CAPTAIN AMERICA! CAN I TALK TO YOU?”

A blonde who was wearing a lemon-green blazer and holding a microphone came striding up to me. A cameraman hurried to keep up with her. (It was the cameraman’s lights that had been shining on us during the last few minutes; the neighborhood was still dark.)

I looked at the blond TV reporter and I thought,
I deserve sex from you.

Then I thought,
Cool it. You’ve got seven women waiting at home. Not to mention, making a touch-slave of a woman while the camera is filming, is NOT smart.

But the lizard part of my brain was thinking
I did a manly thing, and I deserve a manly reward.

Meanwhile, the TV blonde was saying, “Hi, I’m Gennifer Ashton with CBS-10 Eyewitness News. That was an amazing and brave thing you did, rushing into that burning house to rescue those children. What’s your name?”

“Marvin.”

“Marvin
what
?”

“Just ‘Marvin’ is fine.”

I gestured for Kimberly to hurry over.

“So how does it feel to be a hero?” Gennifer asked.

By now Kimberly was standing next to me. I told Gennifer, “The real hero is right here. When Kimberly realized that she couldn’t call 911, she signaled S-O-S with her car horn to alert the neighbors. If she hadn’t been clever like that, Katie and Larry would be dead now.”

Kimberly blushed.

It was obvious that Gennifer would rather talk to me, but she briefly interviewed Kimberly. Kimberly Paulsen, it turned out, was a sophomore at Ewert Grant, and she tried to be a good babysitter.

Then Gennifer turned back to me. “Watching us talk are several people in costumes. So obviously, you came from a party. Why are you wearing Captain America and not something else?”

“I’m wearing this because the girl who invited me to this party had this specially made for me.”

Kimberly looked disappointed, believing that I’d come with a date.

Gennifer continued, “Is it because of your regular job? Are you a policeman or firefighter?”

“
Me?
I’m a high-school student.”

“Oh? What school?”

Just then, the neighborhood’s house lights came on, as did the streetlamps. So did two house alarms—oh well.

Now I could see that there were a dozen costumed people who were standing on Rhonda’s lawn. Most of the men were watching the firemen work; but one of the men in costume, and all of the costumed women, were looking at me with admiration. Among this crowd of admirers were strippers Christi Ellen and Brenda.

When I saw this, my alpha-male urges overpowered me.

****

After I had saved the children from the fire, and when I saw that I had many young and attractive admirers, my alpha-male urges short-circuited my brain. I said, “ARGGH! I WANT TO FUCK WOMEN! LOTS OF WOMEN!”

“
Cut tape!
” Gennifer exclaimed.

For a split second, Gennifer looked afraid of me. But then my hand shot out, lightning-quick, and I said, “Do you have a fiancé?” Gennifer’s hand was showing no wedding ring.

As soon as I touched her, her look of fear vanished, and she lowered her gaze submissively. She replied, “I have a boyfriend, Marvin sir. But we’re not serious.”

I nodded. “I claim you.”

Next to me, Kimberly said, “You deserve to be served, Marvin sir, but she is not worthy! Let me introduce you to someone who is.”

I said, “Before you do that, Kimberly, let’s just be friends.” I said that because my alpha-male urges were still pushing me to fuck Kimberly, which would be wrong for so many reasons.

But Kimberly, even though she was no longer my touch-slave, started walking toward a costumed redhead who was dressed like that character from that 1960s show. The one who always was baking coconut pies.

If you’ve seen that show even once, you know that the red-haired woman in that show was the sex bomb, while the innocent girl was a brunette. And while the woman facing me on the grass had the tits to look good in an evening gown, she also had the face of a total innocent. The freckles were part of the reason why—she had zillions of freckles, as many redheads do. But however it came to be, this woman looked like she’d never had a wicked thought in her life.

I followed Kimberly toward the virgin-looking redhead, and I noticed that Gennifer was following me. I pointed to the cameraman, trusting that my magic pheromones would make him docile. I said, “Go sit in the news van and wait for Gennifer to come back.”

Once Kimberly and I (and Gennifer) were standing in front of the freckled innocent, Kimberly said, “I need to get back to Larry and Katie. But before I do—Olivia, this is Marvin Harper, who saved the children. Marvin, this is Olivia Robb, who was in drama plays with me last year at Ewert Grant, and now is an actress in Hollywood.”

“A
struggling
actress in Hollywood,” Olivia corrected.

Olivia and I shook hands. You know the drill.

By the time Olivia said, “I am yours,” I’d checked the third finger of her left hand.
So far, so good,
I thought. Then I asked her, “Do you have a fiancé?”

“You mean, seriously date
an actor?
No.”

I told her, “I claim you. I’m going to fuck you in a minute, but first I’m going to walk Kimberly back.”

It turned out that the two little kids were sitting by a fire truck. By now the fire was out, and the firemen were inspecting things inside. Katie was clutching a black cocker spaniel.

Seeing me walk up with Kimberly, little Larry got to his feet, and said very solemnly, “Thank you for saving us, Captain America.”

I said, “You’re welcome.” Then I kissed Kimberly on the forehead, then I ran back to Gennifer, Olivia, Christi Ellen, and Brenda.

I’d already claimed Gennifer (TV reporter) and Olivia (Hollywood actress); that night I also claimed Christi Ellen and Brenda (the strippers) as touch-slaves.

Then I moved into Rhonda’s side yard (being sure to shut the front gate), and then four young women and I got ready for sex. I wanted Gennifer to get back to the news van quickly, so I had her stay dressed, and she started things with a quick blowjob.

I told Gennifer to stay dressed, but I was glad to see Christi Ellen get out of her Paula Sarin costume. Yes, Christi Ellen had a great naked body, but also I was glad to see her dis-costume because I had no interest in fucking Paula Sarin.

As soon as Gennifer swallowed my cum, I told her my cel-phone number, made her say it back to me (twice), then ordered her to leave me—but to call me Sunday morning.

Then I told Gennifer, “This is very important. I want you to break up with whoever you’re involved with, but other than that, you are to
do
nothing and
say
nothing to show that you are connected to me. Until I say otherwise.”

“But Mas—Marvin sir, how can I serve you then?” Gennifer asked.

“If there is any news about me that you’re going to report and I don’t know about, I want you to tell me on the sly. You’re my spy in the newsroom. And don’t worry, I
will
fuck you.”

“Thank you, Marvin sir,” Gennifer said. Then with clear reluctance, she opened the gate, walked through, and was gone.

And then I gave full reign to my alpha-male urges. Lying or kneeling in the grass beside Rhonda’s house were three beautiful and submissive young women, and I fucked them. Each to multiple sopping-wet orgasms.

By then, Rhonda’s stereo was blasting again. Mr. Carver had been right: that stereo certainly was loud. It was a little distracting, fucking while that stereo was blaring. On the other hand, nobody complained about Brenda’s or Christi Ellen’s or Olivia’s orgasmic screams, because nobody heard them.

Nobody had condoms except me, and my condoms were in my Captain America shield—and I didn’t feel like walking naked into Rhonda’s house. So as I had done this morning with Fatima, I “coped” with having to fuck a woman “bareback.”

Before Christi Ellen, Brenda, and Olivia fucked me, each woman sucked me hard. Or rather, poor Olivia tried to. Poor Olivia not only looked like a virgin, she sucked cock like one too. Whereas Christi Ellen and Brenda each had my cock dancing the Macarena.

Rhonda had a well-cared-for lawn; it was thick and vibrant green. And Reader, nothing makes a man appreciate lawn care like laying a naked woman onto the grass. Remember, men: If the grass is straggly and sickly, the woman is going to be uncomfortable while she’s getting fucked.

Though to be honest, I didn’t notice the lawn, or care about it, until after I’d enjoyed a blowjob and three fucks. To be even more honest, until after a blowjob and three fucks, I didn’t even notice that the lawn was
green
.

After a blowjob from Gennifer and three fucks, I was unhorny enough that I could carry on a conversation with my new touch-slaves. Or I
would’ve
talked to them, if the stereo hadn’t made such a thing impossible. So I shouted to the women about the party at the mansion on Sunday, the four of us got dressed, and we walked back into Rhonda’s house.

Was
Olivia a virgin when I fucked her? I don’t know. When I first got between her legs, I was too horny to ask. And after fucking her to orgasm, does it matter?

****

Returning to Rhonda’s party, what I noticed immediately was Natasha holding Harold’s girlish body in a lover’s embrace. Harold’s back was to me. Even from twenty feet away, I could see Harold’s shoulders shake.

“
Why
, Natasha?” Harold sobbed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Characters Tim Hanson and Susie, and mentioned character Ashley, all are borrowed from my story
Names Have Power
.

****

My three well-fucked touch-slaves and I walked in through Rhonda’s front door. The first thing that I saw was Black Widow (Natasha) holding Ultragirl (Harold) close to her. I couldn’t see Harold’s facial expression, because his back was to me.

But clearly Harold was unhappy, because his shoulders were shaking with sobs.

“
Why
, Natasha?” Harold cried.

I felt a hand slap my shoulder, then Tim Hanson pulled me over to stand by him and Susie.

Tim looked at me with sympathy. “Your lesbian friend is unhappy, but I have no idea what you should say to her.”

“Do you know what’s wrong?” I asked.

“No, I don’t
know
what’s wrong,” Tim said. His expression told me,
And you won’t like my guesses.
Tim added, “But Susie and I are pretty sure it’s sexual.”

I shook my head. I was missing something. If Harold and Natasha had sex in Rhonda’s bed, why would that make Harold unhappy? Unless girlifying Harold kept his dick soft?

Shit, what if Natasha fucked another guy and made Harold watch? Yeah, that’s probably what happened.

Susie said hesitantly, “Um, if it
is
what we
think
it is, tell Helen that many women hate their first time. I know
I
did. But I don’t hate it anymore.” She smiled at Tim.

I shook my head again. I had no idea what Susie meant (clearly it wasn’t impotence), and I was sure I didn’t want to ask.

I squared my shoulders. “Thanks for the heads-up, folks. But now my friends need me.”

As I walked up, Natasha was trying to console Harold: “
Lyubimyi
, you is so sweet. I is this so much wantink, to years and years, and this you to me is givink.
Spasibo, lyubimyi, spasibo!
”

I stopped behind still-sobbing Harold and said quietly, “Hey.”

Natasha said, “You is like the barbecue smellink. You is big hero.”

I shrugged. “What’s going on?”

Harold, with his back still to me, snarled, “Nothing is ‘going on.’ Go away.”

I said, “I’m trying to help. You’re obviously unhappy—”

“Damned right I’m unhappy!”

“—and believe it or not, I want to help. Talk to me.”

Harold still would not face me. “Talk to
you?
If I told
you
what just happened, you’d blab it all over the school. Go away.”

I lowered my voice and said, “Look, Harold, I get that impotence is a sensitive topic—”

Harold whirled around to face me. “Motherfuck, you’re clueless. You’re two feet taller, and muscular, but you’re still a clueless nerd! Go away, damn you.”

Yes, I was still generally clueless. But I wasn’t as clueless as I was before Fatima granted my wishes last Sunday. During Harold’s rant, I noticed two things—

Firstly, Harold’s lipstick was smeared where it wasn’t completely gone—which could mean only two things. (And who sobs after a heavy make-out session?)

The second thing that I noticed while Harold was talking, was the smell of his breath—which I’d recently learned to recognize.

My realization must have shown on my face. Because Harold said, “Oh, god.”

Natasha said, “Helenka—”

Without looking at either Natasha or me, Harold said, “Natasha, please take me home. Now, please.”

Natasha gave me a questioning look, I nodded, and she then agreed to Harold’s request. I decided to leave the party then as well.

But Rhonda tried to persuade “Helen” to stay: “Go now, are you sure? Because my lesbian coworker Ashley will be getting here around two, and you’ll learn a lot if you talk to her. I’m sure she has tons of great advice.”

“Helen” shook “her” head. “It’s a long story, but I’m not a lesbian after all. It seems that guys are my future.”

****

Twenty minutes later, I was walking up the stairs of my mansion. As I walked to my bedroom at the end of the hallway, I smelled vomit. The smell wasn’t nasty-strong yet, but that would change. Five of Gregory’s Girls were well into their drug withdrawal by now.

I walked into my bedroom, shut the door, turned on the light—and discovered two young women in my bed.

Fatima was gesturing as she slid out of bed. When Fatima’s gestures finished, the other woman started snoring. Loudly.

I walked up close, and discovered that the snoring woman was Janice. She was wearing a spaghetti-strap top and nothing else. Whereas Fatima was wearing a G-rated green nightgown.

I gestured toward Janice. “What’s going on?”

Fatima said, “She wants to fuck you when you get in bed.”

“Huh. Up till now, the touch-slave spell has made the girls submissive. They don’t make a move till I tell them to.”

Fatima shook her head. “She isn’t here because of magic.”

“Oh?”

“Janice told me tonight that before you saved her, she felt like she was in a falling elevator—she would die soon, she couldn’t prevent it, and she couldn’t escape.”

“Wow.”

“Then today, you stopped the elevator and pulled her and the others to safety. Her devotion to you is not caused by magic, I’m sure.”

“Huh. And you, Fatima? Why are
you
in my bed? I gave you your own private bedroom.”

It isn’t often that a 2,600-year-old genie looks nervous. “Indeed I have my own bedchamber, and I deeply thank you. Do you want me to leave? Did I act above my place?”

“Depends. Answer the question—truth, whole truth, and nothing but the truth: Why are you
in here
now, and not
in there?
”

“I ... enjoyed touching you last night, while you fell asleep. I would like to do that again. I feel a thrill when I’m close to you.”

My eyes searched her soul. “A thrill always? What if I woke Janice up and we had hot sex? It would be awkward for you here.”

She smiled, more confident. “Not so, Master! It is the natural order that most men rule most women, and a few men rule everyone else. To see a woman submit to you and gush in desire for you—that would make me feel good, because I made you this way.”

“I’m your masterpiece?”

She smiled. “Too bad nobody awards blue ribbons to bound
djinn
.”

“Then why did Ali the Goat-Herder send you into the lamp whenever he bedded other women? I took that to mean that you were the jealous type.”

“Oh no, he started banishing me after he brought Aureae home. I wasn’t nice to her at all, mainly because she was interested only in Ali’s gold.”

“Go on.”

“Aureae was well named! But I also disliked her because she swept in with this attitude of ‘Bow before me, all other women, to acknowledge my great beauty.’ ”

“She was really hot shit, huh?”

“Well,
she
thought so. But I wouldn’t play her game. Because for one thing, I thought, ‘If I wanted to, I could shift my shape to be your twin. Then where would you be? For I have much more experience at pleasing a man than you.’ ”

“And that experience is fun to enjoy,” I said.

Fatima smiled at me. Then she continued: “Also, I was thinking, ‘True, today you have rare beauty. But tomorrow? Not quite as much. Ten years from now, you’re a has-been. Sixty years from now, you’ll be a hag, while I give erections to your great-grandsons.’ ”

“That’s true. I’m a great-grandson, and you definitely give me erections.”

She smiled at me, then said, “Anyway, after Ali figured out that a twit won’t fuck him wetly after I’ve sneered at her, he started banishing me to the lamp during his playtime. But Master, there’s a point to my story.”

“Oh?”

“Before Aureae, I acted
nice
to all of Ali’s playmates—I spoke to them pleasantly, I complimented their clothes and cosmetics, and I brought them olives and fruit juices between rounds of sex. Why? Because I approved of Ali fucking beautiful women.”

“And what has that to do with me?”

“My attitude hasn’t changed, I
want
you to enjoy many other women. That proves you’re virile. Anytime I see a way to get another woman into your bed, I’ll do it. And I guarantee that you’ll not fuck another Aureae—a woman might approach you because of your money, but I vow that always she’ll fuck and suck you for free.”

I nodded. “My sex life for the past six days has been legendary, and you’re to thank for that.” I kissed Fatima on the mouth.

When I broke the kiss, she remarked, “You smell like smoke.”

I laughed. “Want to know why? Touch my forehead.”

As soon as Fatima quit memory-reading me, her eyebrows went up. She said, “You’ve had a busy evening.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I said. Then I took her hand and said, “Let’s go check on Gregory’s Girls.”

But with my hand on the doorknob, I paused. I said to Fatima, “I’ve given you your own bedroom because you deserve the privacy. But also, I don’t want any human to
see
you or
hear
you do magic. Except for me and my parents. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Master.”

****

Before entering each girl’s room, I knocked on the doorframe—quietly enough to not wake a sleeper, but loudly enough to be heard by anyone who wasn’t asleep. In all five cases, my knock was answered with “Come in.”

None of the five could sleep, and each complained of aches and shakiness. Tiffani had a blotch of vomit on the carpet by the bathroom door. And Miriam?

As soon as Fatima and I walked into Miriam’s room, before I’d even spoken a word, she jumped out of bed, grabbed a set of keys off of the dresser, and shoved her clenched hand toward me. “Here, take my Honda keys,” she said.

I took the keys, but I asked, “What’s going on?”

“I crave the shit, Marvin sir. I crave it bad. If I didn’t need so much for you to like me, I would’ve already taken off and scored some dope.”

“The craving is that bad?”

She nodded fiercely. “So please, take the keys. I really don’t want you to dislike me.”

****

After checking on all my new housemates, Fatima and I went back to my bedroom. With Fatima’s help, I undressed out of the Captain America costume, and then the two of us climbed into bed.

Which woke Janice up. She snuggled up to me and, in a voice both sexy and sleepy, said, “Hey tiger, it’s time for me to thank you.”

I’d gotten so much sex lately, I was actually able to be choosy. I said, “No, Janice, I’m too tired. Get me in the morning. At seven, if I’m not already awake before then.”

“Mmm, you got it,” Janice said. “When the sun rises, so will you.” She gave me a long kiss.

Then I kind of spoiled the mood by turning my face from Janice to Fatima. “When I fall asleep, you’re Night Nurse for the rest of Gregory’s girls. Wake me if I need to decide something.”

“Yes, Master,” Fatima said.

Janice asked, “Marvin, why does Fatima always call you ‘Master’?”

“Shh, go back to sleep,” I said. “I’ll explain at tomorrow’s party.”

My hands went up and out, and I pulled Fatima and Janice close. I left a hand on each woman’s hip, and let myself get sleepy.

I stared up at the dark ceiling and I thought,
What an incredible week! Eight days ago, I inherited Uncle Warren’s footlocker, and so much has happened to me since then.

My last thought on Saturday night was,
But now the exciting times are over. Sure, tomorrow’s pool party will turn into an orgy, but then? Years and years of almost-boring routine.

Reader, I’ve never been more wrong.