It wasn’t but three days later that I would be released from my brass prison once again.
Warm fingers rubbed the sides of my lamp and I eagerly unfurled myself, wondering who would await me when the smoke cleared. Was it, perhaps, Ken, the formerly slovenly roommate-turned gay…what was the term for a muscular, hairy man? A wolf? Let’s go with that. There was only so many people it could be in the space of three days, after all.
So it was to my great surprise when I found myself in a small apartment instead of a dorm. As the smoke finally began to clear-and I made note to have perhaps slightly less smoke in my next appearance, as it was becoming a bit of a nuisance-I saw a tubby black man wearing a work uniform in front of me. Unlike Jack, this guy was not cowering in fear, but staring at me in wonderment. The living room managed to be bare and dirty at the same time, with only a couch, table, and a flatscreen TV, yet the whole was covered with dirty dishes and clothes.
“I am the Genie of the Lamp!” I boomed, and smirked when the fat black guy jumped.
“Hey! Keep it down, these walls are thin!” The black guy admonished.
“You need not be afraid, Master, as only you, owner of the lamp, can hear me.” I spoke, flashing my perfect teeth. “And what might your name be?”
“Greg.” Greg swallowed and glanced down at the burnished brass lamp in his hands. “Holy shit! That Jack guy was right!”
“You know of my last master?” My perfectly manicured brow rose.
“Oh, not personally. He just thought I could use a change in my life.” Greg replied. “Unlimited wishes for 24 hours, right?”
“Correct.” I hid my smirk by pretending to stroke my goatee. Clearly Jack had not realized my ability to twist wishes by adding three words onto any wishes my users make. “How is he doing, by the way?”
“He and his boyfriend seemed happy last time I saw them.” Greg shrugged. “Anyways, since you’re real…”
“Yes?”
At that moment, the door to the apartment opened and a handsome but moderately overweight white man walked in. He took off his shoes and hung up his coat before giving Greg a wave and retreating to his room. Greg looked from his roommate’s closed door to myself.
“He can’t see me.” I explained. “Roommate, right?”
“Very convenient.” Greg’s eyes were wide. “And yeah, he’s my roommate. Chris.”
“Your wish?” I encouraged.
“I wish my apartment is clean and tidy.” Greg said without hesitation.
Very easy. How should I twist it? Let’s get his roommate out here. I had an idea of what I wanted to do already and I wanted to see what would happen.
“I wish my ROOMMATE ENSURES THE apartment is clean and tidy.”
I snapped my fingers.
Chris exited his room. He picked up the clothes and dishes and began going through all the hosuehold chores. Greg watched him do so, but instead of being happy, he looked a bit worried. He clearly didn’t like the wish. Not a good sign.
“Is there something wrong, master?” I asked, unsure how I’d messed up.
“It’s sort of both our jobs to clean the house.” Greg explained. “Is this how it’s always going to be?”
“You do not wish to have a roommate who cleans?” I asked, annoyed.
“Well…I mean,” Greg shot a look at his housemate as he walked past and snagged a dirty shirt off the floor and went back down the hall to a washing machine. “I guess I’ll have to do something else to pull my end of the weight.”
Interesting. A conscientious master. Very rare to run into someone who wasn’t entirely selfish.
“Hey Greg, wanna come livestream with me when I’m done cleaning up?” Chris called from the bathroom.
“Sure!” Greg called back, smiling.
“You like him, Master?”
“I…yeah, but I don’t think he’s into me.”
“We can always change that.” I prodded.
“No!” Greg spoke fiercely, then seemed taken aback by his own anger. “Oh, sorry. No. I don’t wanna mind control someone into loving me. That’s icky.”
“I see.” I knew that wasn’t going to last very long. But I’d have to be careful or he’d try to undo and that would be a headache of wordings and reality changes and, frankly, I wasn’t interested in that right now.
Greg set about helping Chris clean up. I ground my teeth in frustration. If this keeps up, I wouldn’t have any fun at all! He was shuffling around a bunch of papers on the table when a drawing caught my eye.
“What’s that, Master?” I asked.
“Hmm? Oh this?” Greg held up the drawing and smiled. “It’s my character, Bjørn. He’s a viking character I play in our DND game. Chris drew him for me.”
I eyed the rather well-drawn, massive man. Red hair with braids and and great beard, lots of body, heavy with muscle and fat. Totally my thing right now! I had to stop myself from smiling and handed it back to Greg.
“A handsome character.” I said, trying to sound uninterested.
“Yeah, sometimes I wish I was as big and strong and confident in myself like he is.” Greg replied. “Anyways, I-
Man, mortals were easy to bait. This one was going to be easy-peasy. A little much for his second wish, but he didn’t seem to be the type I would get to abuse, so I had to take what I could get.
“I wish I was as big and strong and confident in myself, AND LOOK EXACTLY like he is.”
I snapped my fingers…quietly, behind my back, and watched to see if he noticed his wish.
“Anyways, I was just thinking about a new wish.” Greg scratched his jawline, unaware of the hairs growing there. Not curly, as his African genes would normally have them, but straight. “I wish my roommate’s stream is popular enough that it is his full-time job.”
Heh, quicker than I thought.
“I wish my roommate’s PORN stream is popular enough that it is his AND MY full-time job.”
I snapped my fingers.
“God, I’m so fucking itchy,” Greg scratched his ass and rubbed his back against the couch. As he did, his uniform shifted in a t-shirt and his slacks shifted into loose-fit blue jeans. Being a full-time porn star meant the only uniform he ever needed to wear was his birthday suit. “I’m gonna got to the bathroom quick. Sorry, genie, this itching is really bothering me.”
“You could always make a wish.” I prompted.
“Nah, it’s alright.” Greg rose to his feet and walked to his bedroom to drop off his stuff first. “Just gonna clean up quick before the livestream.”
He walked past the open door to Chris’s room and glanced in. Chris was cleaning off his bed and tidying his room. The cameras for livestreaming were safely cleaned and carefully set on the desk. They were worth tons of money, so of course they needed to be taken care of properly. Even Greg knew that, even if he just wished them into existence. He entered his room, tossed his keys, phone and wallet on his nightstand. Then he walked over to the full-length mirror and lifted his shirt, where the itchiness was worst, and examined his average gut and chest.
I, of course, followed him, listening in on his thoughts. They were my favorite parts of the transformation, after all. And Greg was just beginning to realize I was changing him. That was my second favorite part when someone makes an unintentional wish: the dawning realization and panic as they came to the conclusion that they may have fucked up a bit.
Greg frowned and stared a bit harder at himself. His body hair was weird. Normally, his body hair was tight and wiry, but now they had straightened and practically covered his chest and belly and-Greg turned-were all over his back, shoulders, and arms. They were light hairs, sure, and not particularly dense, but they were everywhere. Greg wasn’t quite sure how to deal with his slightly hairier body, and decided he might shave it if there were any problems. He pulled his t-shirt back down and patted his gut, feeling a bit more heft there than usual. Greg wrote it off as a bad diet. He got his towel and a thong from his closet and walked to the bathroom.
I followed silently after him, completely invisible even to him, and watched as he wet his toothbrush and started cleaning his teeth. Unbeknownst to Greg, his gut was pressing his shirt out and as he spat into the sink, his gut pressed against the counter. Greg froze and looked down at himself in surprise. His belly had transformed from a flabby blob into a small ball gut. I sped up the magic and his belly visibly expanded, the chubby belly swelling out to rest on the sink counter, wobbling as it became a big, heavy beer gut.
“Genie!” Greg looked around, panicked, gripping his burly belly through his shirt. He bounced it, and appeared mesmerized as it wobbled and jiggled.
“Is something wrong, Master?” I asked, hiding a snicker as I reappeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on? Why am I getting fatter?” Greg asked, lifting up his shirt and staring at his floppy moobs.He gingerly lifted it up, rubbing the pepperoni-sized areola and hissing in pleasure before letting it flop back onto his big belly.
“Just granting your second wish, master.” I smiled, watching him examine himself.
“What does streaming porn have to do with being fat?” Greg let his shirt drop. It barely covered his belly, now. He turned, taking in his much fatter body and gripped his lovehandles.
“Ah, no master, that was your third wish.” I smiled placidly, watching his reaction.
“My third?” What do you-
Greg was cut off as he felt itchy again. This time, however, it was full body-arms, legs gut, chest, face, head-everything itched. Looking in the mirror, Greg saw hairs growing up the back of his collar. His pants were growing uncomfortably ticklish as the hairs grew in there. Unbuttoning his jeans took a little longer than normal because the zipper was under his big gut. He wrestled his pants off and stared at the forest of leg hairs that sprang forth. The itching grew heavier under his shirt, so he lifted it up, belly flopping free, to reveal his moobs and gut covered in a dense carpet of manly growth.
His face itched and he watched the strangely straight-haired stubble grow into a short beard and then growing even longer, until it had fully descended to rest on his prominent belly. The nappy hair on his head uncurled, growing straight and smooth and growing long, one side of his hair braiding itself, beads glittering on them. The rest of his hair was pulled back by a metal clasp.
Greg ran his thick fingers through his hair in awe, a realization beginning to take shape in his head. The hairstyle was very familiar to him. It looked exactly like his character, Bjørn. The hair texture was so different from his old one’s, silky and smooth. His mustache was braiding as it drooped down past his lips, little beads jangling at the side of his face.
“I wished to become my character? You took that remark as a real wish?” Greg breathed.
“I know true desire when I hear it, master.”
“But isn’t he a Nordic guy?” Greg asked as he stared at himself in the mirror.
“You aren’t done changing yet.” I shrugged. “I thought you’d like me to take this one slow, since it’s such a big change.”
Greg bounced his new gut happily, then saw something that caught his eyes. His skin color was draining, all the melanin draining from his skin. Little freckles appeared on his chest and shoulders, though he couldn’t see it thanks to the dense hair covering. Speaking of hair, the newly-Caucasian man’s black hair drained as well, until it was a rosy gold color. Greg stared at himself in delight, nose cracking and shifting into a proper Nordic shape, as he became a ginger.
He really was turning into the character Chris had drawn for him! Greg was a little concerned about the wording of his wish, but that didn’t matter right now. He had a few more changes left to enjoy.
The thought coincided with a strong thickening in Greg’s chest. His flabby moobs firmed up, as he felt under them building muscles. The shirt he wore strained at the expansion of his fat pecs. He felt them up as the broadened into heavy pillows of muscle and fat. His cock hardened and he licked his lips at his reflection. He looked so sexy. Next, he felt the firmness spread to his arms. He flexed them over his shoulder and watched his biceps bunch and tighten up in his shirt sleeve, the growth traveled down the forearms, making them thicker and growing his hands bigger until they became meaty hooks. Below his hanging gut, thighs widened, bugling with added muscle before calves strengthened and feet strained his socks. His ass bubbled up with fat and muscle, providing the perfect counterbalance to his beachball gut.
Greg now looked like a massively muscled but rather chubby Nordic powerlifter. He stretched, back and muscles feeling oddly tight. As he did, his spine popped, making him gasp, as he rose, growing taller and taller, until he stood at 6’7”-the exact height of his character. He felt his shirt strain to contain his meaty pecs and fat belly. As the thought of him bursting out of his clothes came to him, all of his clothing grew a little-but only just enough to keep up, making them look like they’d been painted-on, showing off his every curve. Greg picked up his round belly and wobbled it, the firm but soft gut bouncing at the movement.
The last of all the changes started below this massive ball of a gut. Greg let out a gasp of pleasure as his crotch filled up his cotton briefs. Balls sagged downward, stretching out his briefs, creating a spherical bulge there as his dick lengthened and stretched longer. Greg brought a meaty mitt to his bulge and squeezed it. The action causing a moan to emerge from his mouth. His dick felt so huge in his hand. He took his thumbs and stretched the already straining elastic underwear bands and lowered his briefs down. He could not see much over his gut but in the mirror he could see a dangling fist of flesh, at least 10 inches soft.
He was done. An exact copy of his DND character. I watched as Greg stared at himself in the mirror, eyes wide in wonderment.
“M-my eyes are blue.” Greg’s spoke, voice like glaciers rubbing together, deep and rumbly.
“Of course, Master Bjørn .” I smiled. “You are an exact copy, after all.”
“Bjørn?” The newly Nordic bear turned, eyes quizzical as the mental changes kicked in.
His eyes dulled and the man burped heartily, patting his enormous gut. He groped himself, cock, quickly coming erect-a thick foot long cock. Bjørn began stroking himself as his mind dulled, his aspirations boiling down to satisfying his need for sex and food. With a grunt, the big ginger bear came, splattering his old seed across the mirror.
Scratching his ass, he smiled dumbly and wandered out of the bathroom, leaving it messy, and into the kitchen. He opened the door and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He proceeded to dig out some leftovers and hungrily ate them, fishing beer out of the fridge. The bear set his finds onto the table and devoured it all messily, burping occasionally, tearing into a smoked turkey leg and grabbing for more beer. He finished it off and stared at the messy table, unsatisfied.
“I wish for more food!” Bjørn snarled as he surveyed the meager offerings.
I smirked and quickly added my own adjustments.
“I wish for more UNHEALTHY food, A FEAST!”
I snapped my fingers.
Stuffed pig, pies, and copious steins of beer appeared on the table. Bjørn’s eyes lit up and he hungrily dove into the feast. Ale and beer and mead were swilled, slopping on the floor. I waited silently in the corner, hearing him burp and fart happily. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris approaching, drawn by the sounds of the slobby viking’s feasting.
“Dude!” An angry voice came form the living room.
Chris stared, arms crossed, at the mess Bjørn had made of his newly cleaned kitchen.
“What the fuck are you doing, you stupid oaf?” Chris snarled. “I just fucking cleaned!”
“I wish you’d stop complaining about the mess I make.” Bjørn rolled his eyes.
I smiled.
“I wish you’d stop complaining about the mess I make AFTER WE FUCK.”
I snapped my fingers.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Chris shook his head. “Come on, we have a stream to start.”
Greg leapt out of his chair and practically ran to his roommate’s room…and found his bed and clothes missing. Only a camera setup and lighting were there, along with a rubber-sheeted bed. Dildos lined the shelf on the wall. So this was what his wish had made?
I watched invisibly as Greg inspected his new ‘play room’. There were still few things I wanted to do here before I moved on to the next victim. Hopefully, Greg would have a few more wishes. With his diminished intellect, he’d likely say something off-handedly.