"You can give me taste of them GOODIES, bitch," the thug answered, looking at the genie's boobs, finally able to move again as the paralysis smoke floated away in the breeze. He couldn't figure out how this stranger had stunned him into a such stillness with such a juvenile magic trick, but it didn't matter. He was enraged that his victim of choice had escaped and was ready for revenge. He forcefully shoved his arm against the brick wall beside the genie and gently cupped his hand around her throat, hinting that he could be a lot less gentle. His erect penis was sticking out of his unzipped pants like a pointed gun, aimed straight at his new victim. "I should fuck you DEAD, but I think I'll just fuck you senseless. You can get what that other bitch woulda got."
"If you want to fuck bitches out in the street, it's time you were better equipped for it," quipped the genie. The attacker noticed her staring down at his junk and glanced down at it with her.
"Ya like what you see, goodie two-shoes? This'll be--hey! What happened to my dick?!" There, sticking out of his unzipped pants, was a thick, bright red, veiny organ with a swollen growth at the base. He reached down there, surprised by the bone-like hardness of his shaft and the glans-like sensitivity of his knot. "What the FUCK is wrong with my DICK?"
"Nothing's wrong with it, it's just right for your new life," said the genie. "And since you've no longer got what a real man keeps in his pants, how about we get you naked, shall we?" She snapped her fingers, and the humid summer air kissed every pore on his skin, and all at once he could see his furry balls and his hairy body.
"Shit, my clothes! The cops are gonna fuck my ass up!" he shouted. The genie rolled her eyes and retorted, "You were about to rape two women in plain view and your big concern is indecent exposure?" Sadly, she realized, depending on how 'traditional' the police in this snow-white little corner of suburbia might be, they might actually care more about a streaker flaunting his 'bits' than about a man's man putting two suggestively clothed females 'in their place'. He hunched over trying to cover his altered maleness while she taunted him about his second change: "Oh my, what adorable floppy ears you've grown," she beamed.
The rapist wasn't sure at first what she meant by that, but he definitely could feel a bend in his lobes that hadn't been there before. Taking his hands from his crotch and reaching up to his head, he quickly found himself fumbling with a pair fuzzy flat triangles hanging down over the sides of his face. It shouldn't have been like touching his actual ears, but he could feel himself touching the things and flicking them back and forth. There were even unexpected muscles up there he could use to perk them up! Then there was a sudden loudness like his ears popped, and he could hear things half a mile away! None if it prepared him for the texture of his oversized ears getting fuzzy or the sight of tightly packed, strong short hairs sprouting all the way down his back. He could have sworn it looked like fur. While the biker was trying to make sense of all this, he noticed a wobbliness in his lower back that made him look over his shoulder to see what was there. He perked his ears and crinkled his eyebrows at the sight of a long, thick, furry extension of his own spine! The dangling addition had a gentle curve and a notice taper to it, just like a dog's tail. A twinge at the back of his mind gave him the sudden awareness that he could move it, and sure enough, a few quick checks confirmed that he could swing around his canine-looking appendage as easily as he could wave an arm. Finally starting to piece it all together, he turned again to face the woman. Surely, this was all of HER fault! Somehow SHE was the one doing this to him. His mounting fear of her triggered an unfamiliar impulse deep within him, giving him an unexpected urge to draw his new limb inward through the gap between his knees as if to shield it.
The woman's smile morphed into a deadly scowl as she watched the half-changed creature tuck its tail and start to shiver. "Now you understand it, don't you?"--she asked rhetorically, her stern voice roaring like thunder in her victim's canine ears--"You're not in control this time, are you? No, I am. Quite unlike those screaming damsels in distress who cowered under you while you played the dragon."
"B-b-but w-what are you?" the former human stammered, tucking his tail even tighter.
"I am a genie," his judge announced boldly, "a creature of legend, much more powerful than humanity, and far more ancient. And no, you don't get three wishes."
The once-invincible predator scratched his arm while his coat of fur spread down it. The growth of his claws was a relief to his itching skin, but the shortening of his fingers and the hardening of his rough pads made him start to whimper. Even worse, he was struggling to hold back an embarrassing new urge as the heat closed in around him. The shrinking biker hadn't sweated a drop since his fur had grown in, and he felt like he was on the verge of passing out! He was desperate to resist what he knew he had to do--desperate to cling to some sort of human dignity in front of the genie. But he literally just couldn't take the heat: he reluctantly parted his blackened lips and unfurled his lengthy flat tongue, spilling his drool on the ground and frantically gasping for deep breaths in and out. Relief and humiliation washed over him just before his spine cracked, toppling him over to land on his front paw pads, leaving him helpless to stand back up for more than a second or two at a time. Still unable to stop panting, he gazed up pleadingly at the genie for several seconds before his face grew forward and his nose moistened, pouring new smells into his awareness by the hundreds! At last, his mind fogged up when his brain restructured itself to manage sounds and scents instead of sights and abstract thoughts. He still knew where he was and what he used to be, but it was getting harder to focus on anything other than the numerous paths of reconnaissance suggested by his twitching nose. He lowered his snout so he could sniff the sidewalk, torn between following some scents or staying close in case she changed him back.