"I wish I was a hot jock," he says, but before he can add with a million dollar signing bonus his mouth seems to have filled with cotton, and he can no longer speak.
"Granted. Master is going to make one hot jock that any man would be proud to wear," you say wickedly.
The teenager grabs his throat and mouth unable to open his lips and speak. He feels weak all over. He rushes wide eyed to the mirror and stares at his paling skin. Little ribbed lines begin to cover his face and he feels his arms being pulled behind him. He drops to his knees, and his bare feet swing up to join with his hands. His head seems to be migrating downward as his torso thins and his whole body dwindles. He can no longer see himself in the mirror. He is lying prone and helpless on the bathroom floor.
You pick him up, and begin to change back to your former male genie version, "You had to want your genie to be a hot female, didn't you? Now you're a hot jock alright, and you're just my size. See!"
You hold the jockstrap up with both hands in front of the mirror, so your former master can see his fate. Then you lower him into the smoke concealing your waist, and curse as you find out that nothing below your waist is solid. You cannot put him on...
So you pickup the lamp and transport yourself and the jock to...