Patricia looked down at Drake's prone, nude, insanely-muscled body. She had like him, back in High School, but nothing had really come of it. He had been cute then. Now, he set her on fire. For some reason, she thought he was damn sexy.
She rose, and walked to the living room table, where the lamp lay. She picked it up, and rubbed it.
"Pat, what are you doing?" Drake asked, sitting up on the floor.
"Greetings Mortal, I am Beldazarr, The Djinn of Mind and Body!" came the genie's booming voice.
"Genie," Patricia announced, "I wish that Drake here was my loyal and willing slave, eager to please me, and never disobedient or duplicitous with me."
"It is done," the genie announced, as he vanished back into his bottle.
Pat turned to Drake. "Don't touch this bottle, Drake," she commanded.
He knew that he had to obey.