Back inside your lamp you hit the heel of your hand against your head and groan. You should have found a way to get Miguel to use all three of his wishes before changing him into a chicken.
If you had then instead of 29,999 more wishes to grant, you would only have to grant 29,997. The difference meant instead of a minimum of 10,000 masters, you'll need a minimum of 10,001, and if each master only gets one wish, you'll need 30,000. You agonize wondering how long it will be before someone rubs your lamp and releases you again.
Minutes drag into hours, and finally you fall asleep. You are awakened as you are sucked out of the lamp in the plume of smoke. Someone has rubbed the lamp.
You hear a voice and your body feels oddly insubstantial, as the voice says, "Cool, a genie just like in I Dream of Genie! I hope she's as hot as Barbara Eden was..."
WTF? you think as your muscles vanish and your chest becomes a pair of size C bra clad boobs. Hair cascades down from your no longer bald head. You stare at the pin-up art harem girl image reflecting from your new master's bathroom mirror.
You turn to face the towel clad teenager who is your master. His towel is tenting as he drools at you.
He whistles a catcall as he stares lustily at you.
"I wish you'd kiss me!" he blurts out.
You lean forward unable to stop yourself and plant a kiss on his forehead.
"Hey, on the lips with tongue," he complains.
You grin and answer, "Is that your wish, master?"
"Yes-" he says before you thrust your tongue into his mouth. You lip lock for several seconds, before withdrawing.
"You have one wish left, master," you say before he can speak.
"What? But I thought," he says as his jaw drops with the realization that he had wasted two of his three wishes on kisses. He closes his mouth and concentrates. Then he smiles.
"I wish for three more wishes!"
"Haha, I'm sorry master, you cannot wish for more wishes. You still have one wish. So what will it be? Fame? Fortune? A hot bride?"
"Bride? I'm only 19! No, I wish I that I - wait a minute let me think about this for a minute," he says sitting down on the toilet seat and resting his head in hands, "Only one wish left!" he laments.
"I could wish to be a stud," he speculates looking at his reflection in the mirror.
He's thinking of a muscled pretty boy, but stud also means a two-by-four used to frame construction, or any male animal used for breeding, or an accessory for a tuxedo shirt. You grin eagerly hoping he phrases his wish that way, but which one. You lick your lips.
"Or I could wish to be smart, but wait that paranoid android had a brain the size of a planet, and he wasn't happy," he says shaking his head.
Hm? Brain the size of a planet, hm, that would be interesting. Maybe you can do that to somebody sometime.
"Or I could wish to be rich, or have the golden touch - not that Midas thing, but able to win every bet I make or maybe wish for a ton of bricks or an unlimited credit card that I never have to pay or-"
You decide to steer him back toward a transformation wish by saying, "Come on, stud, if you're not going to make your wish now, I have to go back in the lamp."
"Uh, yeah, okay, but you'll come out when I rub the lamp again won't you?"
You shrug and say, "If you wish?"
"Oh, no you're not going to trick me into wishing that you can come out and lose my last wish in the process," he says catching on. "I know I wish -"