There were rows and rows of vials that depicted animals or body parts, all prominently displayed on the racks within the case. One, however, seemed almost hidden, stuffed far off into a corner with its labeled turned away. Curious, she reached in and removed it, turning the via of roiling pink liquid over to check exactly what was on the front.
Most of the labels had images or symbols accompanied by words, some further way to identity its effects, or what it was used for. This one, however, merely showed a single silhouette, depicting... well, she wasn't even sure what. It looked like a pan of some sort, with a large handle on one side and a long nozzle on the opposite side. It seemed... off, in other ways. The shape of it, the texture of the bottle, it just wasn't quite the same as the other vials.
Completely intrigued, she couldn't help but uncork the vial and take a sniff. The liquid inside was sweet, like honey almost - it smelled so delicious, she was compelled to pour a bit of the stuff into her mouth. As soon as the nectar slammed into her taste buds light a freight train of sweetness, she threw her head back, eagerly gulping down the whole thing. It felt like pure liquid joy sliding down her throat, and afterwards, she found herself falling back onto the couch, sighing contentedly.
A tingling began to form in her stomach, odd yet not entirely unpleasant. She rubbed her abodmen, pulling up her shirt to find that there was... smoke, was her best guess, swriling in wisps around her front. She tried to blow them away, but the wisps only grew stronger, slowly forming into a cloud of pink fog that hung about her stomach. So bizzare, and yet she couldn't help but feel contented every time she put her hand through the mist.
Suddenly, the bank of pink fog shot away from her, landing on the floor in front of Mary and quickly growing to at least five feet in height. It became thick, an oscuring mist for several moments, before it began to disappate. To her surprise, she could make out a form within the fading smoke, gradually revealed by the receding puffs. A woman's figure, clad in what seemed to be robes of gold and purple, black hair cascading all around her shoulders. Her dark skin and indian features were both immediately alluring, even without the impressive curves that now became visible - those full, soft lips begged to be kissed, and the devious sparkle in her dark eyes wordlessly communicated that she would take that kiss however she pleased.
"At last, out of that stuffy case!" She exclaimed in an accented, sultry voice, hands running down her body as if it was the first time feeling her own incredible figure. Mary couldn't help but find herself flush with heat at the display; she had never been particularly attracted to women, certainly, but the sheer beauty before her could cause a reaction in even the straightest of ladies. Her heart practically leaped out of her chest as the woman took a step forward, those almond eyes staring down at her. "Mmmm... not a perfect vessel, but plenty to work with."
Mary finally staggered out what seemed like a very important question. "W-who are you?"
At the query, the woman moved to sit down next to Mary, legs pulled up onto the couch and an arm around the shocked girl's shoulders. "Ah yes, mortals do forget these things. I am Darzala, a-" She paused. "Do your kind know what a genie is?"
"A what?!" Her eyes lit up with excitement. "W-well... yeah, of course I know what a genie is! Does that mean you're... a-are you here to give me three wishes?"
She cackled wildly, a hand placed upon her own impressively large chest as she did so. "Oh Mary, you sweet thing..." She leaned forward, brushing at the girl's brown hair. "The potion you drank, it was not to simply summon a genie - it was my very essence, hidden away from those who would deny me my freedom."
With burning assurance, she moved a leg over Mary's, allowing her to kneel in the flabbergasted woman's lap as she continued explaining. "When you drank it, you became my vessel... my lamp, as you mortals would know it. My sexy little living lamp..."
"...I uh... I don't feel like a lamp..."
Another wild cackle came from Darzala. "A metaphor, my sweet. But don't worry..." She leaned down, grasping Mary's breats in her hands, using the grip to keep her still as she planted a kiss. The brunette swooned, moaning at the wonderful feeling of those pouting lips against her own, gasping for air when the kiss was broken.
"A little bit of magic, and you'll be the perfect vessel for me." She squeezed, producing another moan from Mary. "Now, what shall we make of you..."