"Okay, genie," Jared said, making his first wish without taking long to think about it. "I wish you would make me bigger and stronger. Heck, I want to be huge! Can you do that?"
Brick blinked a few times, then snorted in disbelief. But as Jared crossed his thin arms in annoyance, glaring down at the naked little genie, Brick felt compelled--he had to grant the wish. The jock found his mouth moving on its own accord: "As you wish, master." Then he stretched forth his arms and wiggled his fingers in a complex pattern, pointing at Jared.
Nothing happened.
Jared scowled. "What are you waiting for?" the thin nerd demanded.
For reasons Brick did not quite understand, he knew exactly what the issue was. He simply wasn't powerful enough to make significant changes. But his limited magic had compensated.
"Master," he explained, "I am a new genie, and do not have the power of one that has existed for centuries." Brick was impressed by the words he was using. They came out smoothly, yet were somewhat archaic in their construction. It was like he spoke differently when in genie-mode. "To fulfill your wish, I have primed your body to grow. You will experience a growth spurt, which will make you taller. If you make the most of it, your muscles will grow considerably. But you will have to work for it, oh Master."
In essence, Brick was filling Jared up with some sort of magic roids. It put a little smirk on his face to think of what he was doing to the scrawny geek. Studious, nerdy Jared on roids? It was beyond hilarious. Thankfully, at his tiny size Brick was so small that Jared couldn't see the expression from high up, where the master was scowling down at the mini-genie.
"Fuck. Well, I guess you can't expect much else from a one dollar genie," Jared muttered. He looked at Brick and announced, "Okay, genie. But you're going to have to do more than that. I need a trainer, and you're it."
Brick's eyebrows went up a bit at that, but they quickly settled, and he smiled. "Of course, oh Master," he said in acknowledgement, bowing politely. Inside, he was giddy. As a trainer, he'd be the one giving orders. He savored the opportunity to put Jared in his place. Brick straightened. "Put on some workout gear, grab a water bottle, and let's hit the gym." His voice had changed. It had more of his old, jockboy twang.
Jared stared down at his miniature trainer. At two inches tall, the genie was easy to miss. But Jared could feel something different inside him. Maybe it was the placebo effect. Maybe he just thought he felt more energy inside. But he felt it all the same. He laughed, and rushed over to his dresser. He didn't have gym clothes exactly. Instead, an old pair of khaki shorts and a baggy tee shirt sufficed. At least he had tennis shoes, for the handful of occasions when he decided to go for a run. He turned, looking back at where Brick was standing.
Jared's outfit was pathetic. Brick could barely believe that the guy didn't have proper gym clothes; heck, Brick often wore workout gear to class! But Jared was his Master now, and as much as it galled Brick, he had to go along with it.
"Put me in your pocket. I'll be able to give you instructions from there," Brick instructed, pointing at the breast pocket on Jared's baggy old tee shirt, a few ink stains visible on it from pens that leaked. Jared complied, gently picking Brick up, then dropping his naked, two-inch body into the pocket. It was strange to be down in there, but Brick found that it was oddly comforting--as a genie, he was accustomed to tight living spaces. Wait. No he wasn't! He had a dorm room like everyone else, and his roommate had agreed (of course) that Brick should have the lion's share of it. Cramped pockets were not the same! Yet even as Brick tried to fight it, the comfortable familiarity of the tight space came back to him. He settled in as Jared left his room and walked across campus toward the gym.