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Bottle Needs a Genie

For Faceless_Lord

By Draconicon

People were always talking about treating oneself to different things, whether it was food or luxuries, games or books, or some other sort of indulgence that gave oneself pleasure. Dexter was a bit new to the whole concept, so he felt that he'd be better off scheduling it each week and seeing if he found something that caught his attention.

The otter was walking down the main street of his small town, sandals flicking up and down against the bottoms of his feet with every step, when one of the shops finally caught his eye. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at the antique sign over the antique, gold-plated windows, peering through the lettering to see old wood, older metal knick-knacks, and still older people wandering from one part of the shop to the other.

Heh...old store in the old town, Dexter thought with a chuckle.

Despite that, he felt drawn to it. There were always interesting things to be found in old shops like that, particularly ones that actually took good care of their little collection of knick-knacks. Sometimes, history had a way of showing itself in the least likely places.

The otter crossed the street, his rudder swaying as he did, and pulled the door open. Ding-dong went the bell, and some of the old people wandering through the aisles looked up. They narrowed their eyes at him, and seemed to pick up their pace, most of them leaving.

Guess I spoiled their fun, he thought. Weird...

However, no sooner had the majority of customers left than the shop owner - or so he surmised - stepped forward. Dexter yelped in surprise at the sight of the goat that poked his head around one of the aisles, grinning at him. The bigger male had a long goatee, unsurprisingly, one that was fluffy and wavy rather than oiled and gathered up right, the way that most of them were. It was rather cute, in a way.

The horns that rolled over the top of the goat's head, however, were a bit more intimidating. Dexter could already imagine being bashed by those and getting sent right back out of the store, slammed through the window, and winced.

The goat's smile didn't make him feel much better, either. There was a way that he seemed to lean and leer, and Dexter could only give a shaky sort of smile in return.

"Uh, hi..."

"Hello, hello, hello," the goat said. "I'm Summer, and welcome to my shop of oddities. How may I help you?"

If there was ever someone that embodied all the sliminess of an old-style merchant out of the Arabian Nights, this guy was it. Dexter forced his smile to stay up, even as he edged around the goat.

"Uh, I'll be fine looking after myself, thanks," he said.

"You sure? I'm more than happy to look after you."

"Seriously, I'm fine."

"If you say so, good sir," Summer said, bobbing his head. "But if you are curious, or need help, do not hesitate to call for me."

I'd call the cops before I called you...and probably because of you...

That thought notwithstanding, the otter continued to smile at the goat as he walked down one of the other aisles, and kept his eyes on the store owner until he was completely out of sight. Then, and only then, did he feel a bit more relaxed.

What the hell? The old people feel comfortable shopping here when THAT is the owner?

Maybe he was more respectful to the older crowd, or maybe he was 'flirty' with the younger crowd. Might explain why so many of the older customers fled the store as soon as he walked in. They must have known what was going to happen and didn't want to be there for it. He couldn't blame them.

Still, the store was interesting enough to keep him there. He walked up and down the aisles, following the different cultures of antiques as he went. The standard North American ones, those of Native American styles and Aztecs and Mayans started to fade into the European cultures, going from the Franco-Germans off to the Polish, then to the Greek, and finally sweeping south to the Arabian ones.

He cocked his head to the side as he found himself face to face with an oil lamp, one that looked exactly like the sort of thing that one saw in the Aladdin shows. He chuckled, shaking his head at the sight of the little golden thing. The otter started to reach out for it, then stopped himself as he noticed a seal placed over the tip of it, right where the oil and light would come out.

He blinked, leaning over it for a better look. The more he saw, the more he realized that this lamp was all sealed up, either trying to keep something in or keep something out. The wax seal wasn't much of a blockage, at least in his mind, but then again, to the old people...

"Find something interesting, sir?"

Dexter almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden question from behind, and he whipped around to find that Summer had appeared right there. The older male - middle aged, but not old - looked down at him with a small smile, twirling his goatee as he spoke.

"Perhaps you would like some information on this lamp?"

"Where did you come from?"

"That's a bit of private information, is it not?"

"You just...fine. What is this?"

"Ah, sir, it is a cursed lamp," the goat said, stepping up to stand at the otter's side. "As you can see, it is sealed to keep the evils of the dark spirits from possessing the lamp and gaining great power. The lamp is empty, you see, and only a being of pure heart can take on the power within and wield it as a genie might have done in ages past."

"...People believe this legend?"

"Many do, and I am one of them. Perhaps, young otter, you would do me the favor of touching the lamp and finding out?"

"Me? Pure of heart? You obviously don't know me," Dexter said, laughing.

Despite that, he looked back at the lamp, and he felt an odd...tugging, for lack of a better word. Almost as if the lamp was really trying to pull him towards it, as if it was capable of wielding some sort of influence on the outside world.

That was impossible, of course, but that was what it felt like. Like he was completely helpless to it, like...like he was being...

He tried to shake his head, tried to pull back, but one of his arms was already rising up. The otter's eyes went wide, and he grabbed at his hand.

"What...what the fuck?!"

"The lamp. It calls to you," Summer whispered, pushing him gently from behind. "Answer the call. Let it have a chance..."

"Bullshit! What the hell are you doing to me?!"

"Nothing that you would not do to yourself. But be of good heart. If you are not pure, then it will reject you. After all, you were laughing at the mere idea a moment ago, were you not?"

"That...that was..."

He couldn't pull his hand back, he realized. It was still moving, still reaching for the lamp, still out of his control. There was no getting it back without taking extreme measures, measures that he was not willing to take.

I'm a perv. I stare at feet during sandal season. I do nothing but perv out on people that wouldn't want it. I'm not pure. I'm not pure.

It should be safe to touch it, even if he didn't want to. He'd be safe. It'd reject him. Summer had said that himself...right?

His fingers brushed the edge of the lamp. For a second, nothing happened, and he started to breathe a sigh of relief.

Then the winds began to blow.

Dexter looked up with a gasp, staring at the purple streams of wind that blew from one side of the store to the other, pulling small things off the shelves and knocking the bigger ones around. The smell of incense was thick in the air, flooding his nose, making it hard to breathe without taking in the sickly sweet scent. The otter covered his face with one hand, trying to pull the other free from the lamp without success.

"What...what's happening?!"

"The lamp accepts your sacrifice!" Summer shouted. "You will have its power!"

"But I don't want it!"

"It doesn't matter. It wants you!"

And it wanted him badly, from the way that the winds suddenly changed. The lamp whipped about, lifting up from its shelf and twisting in mid-air, pointing the spout at him. He could hardly believe that this was actually happening, that this was somehow real. Yet, it was. He could feel his finger being pulled to the spout, and then -

"AGH!"

He screamed as he felt like he was falling forward, his feet lifted off the ground as he was dragged towards the lamp. The spout seemed to suck him in, first his finger, then his arm, then the rest of his body, slurping him down like so much pasta.

The otter fell, and fell, and fell through the empty confines of the lamp, and as he fell, his clothes were stripped from him. Sweater, jeans, sandals, all of it came flying loose as if they had become insanely oversized, fluttering away even when he tried to hold onto them. They disappeared into the distance before he even had the chance to grab for them, leaving him completely naked from head to toe.

The slender otter blushed, pulling his rudder up between his legs to try and cover his cock as he spun in the nothingness in the middle of the lamp. Cheeks burning in humiliation, he looked around for some sign of the hole he'd fallen through, hoping that maybe there was some way back out, but he couldn't see anything but vaguely purple-tinted darkness.

There was no way out. He was trapped.

"Hello?" Dexter called.

There was no answer. No voices called out to him, no sudden swirl of wind came in response to his call. There was only silence, silence and warmth.

Too much warmth, he realized, feeling a few droplets of sweat starting to push out through the fur on his face, and along the bottom of his feet. The webbing between his toes was getting damp, too, thick and wet, and he felt almost slimy as he wiggled his toes. The sensation was new...and...

Oddly sexy, for some reason. His cheeks burned as he realized that his cock was starting to rise, getting stiffer as he smelled his own musk. It was...strange, too, because he'd never been that interested in it before. He tried to fan it away, but he only felt warmer, hornier, and it was getting hard to think, too.

As his cock finally hit full erection, standing out stiff and hard at six inches long, the otter's temptation to touch it reached a fever pitch. No one could see, after all. He was down in the depths of a magic lamp, nobody but the shop owner knew where he was, and...

Well, it was hot, he was hard, and he needed to distract himself.

Still blushing as if he would be caught by some shadowy stranger, Dexter grabbed his dick and squeezed it. As soon as he did, though, he paused, staring at his dick as if it was someone else's. It definitely felt like it. Normally, his fingers closed around it, no problem, but this time...well, this time it felt almost like he was having to struggle a bit.

That, and the head of his cock pointed out a bit further between his fingers than usual, almost like it was longer. No, that was impossible. It just had to be -

"Holy..."

He adjusted his hand, thinking that he'd just gripped it wrong, but as soon as his fingers left his dick, he saw it grow. Not much, only an inch or so, but there was no doubt that his dick was getting bigger. Thicker, heavier, much more obvious. Even if he'd still had his pants, he'd be able to see that through it, now.

The idea of having something so big was almost worth this whole debacle, provided that he could get back out of the lamp. Yet, at the same time, the strange heat around him didn't dissipate. If anything, it seemed to grow stronger.

Dexter was panting. The otter didn't know why; he wasn't tired, nor was he turned on enough to be panting, but it felt like he couldn't quite get enough air. He leaned forward, then slumped to his knees, groaning under his breath. His chest felt heavy, like he was struggling to take a breath. He looked down -

"Oh god..."

And saw several lumps growing out of the center of his chest, breasts that were slowly gaining in size and shape. They were little more than nubs so far, but even that was already making it harder to stay upright, to stand the way that he used to. Dexter desperately reached for them, thinking that - somehow, stupidly - he could push them back in. He gripped at the growing nubs -

"AH!"

And almost fell head over heels at the pressure and pleasure that they gave him to touch. They were...it was so strong...

Dexter couldn't catch his breath as his hands continued to rub his new breasts, feeling them grow and fill his palms. The idea that they were not supposed to be there was rapidly fading away, the pleasure making it hard to think of ever not having them again.

As his nipples hardened against his palms, the pleasure only grew greater, and he felt his fingers fanning out, having to fan them to cover his breasts properly. They were more than nubs, more than bumps now. Probably up to Cs already, he realized, and getting heavier.

It was nearly impossible not to play with them, despite never having been interested in them before. Boobs had always been attached to women before, and he wasn't interested in women. He was interested in men, in cock, in...in other things, not in stuff like this. But attached to him, part of the pleasure that he could experience, it was a whole new kettle of fish.

He bit his lips as he found his nipples, pulling on them the way that he had seen men in the pornos do before, and instantly found himself gasping for breath. His cock lurched forward, hard as could be, and he squirted a load of pre-cum into the abyss below him. Despite the fact that he stood on something solid, the pre-cum kept falling away from him.

He couldn't stop, groping himself more and more as his breasts kept pushing out, getting heavier and giving more as he pressed against them, big enough to make average cocks disappear between them if he ever decided to give a titjob. This was...this was insane.

They seemed to slowly come to a stop, no longer growing as they settled into the high range of D-cups, and he shivered as he looked down at the stiff nipples and darkened flesh of the areolas around them. So much more obvious and bigger than they had been when he had been pulled in, and...

And it wasn't done yet, he realized. That same heat, that same tingle that had started in his cock and then moved up to his chest, was moving down into his hips and ass.

"Oh fuck...oh fuck, no, not more!"

But more was on the way, and there was nothing that he could do to stop it. All he could do was grope at his ass, feeling the tight cheek starting to swell, pushing out against his hand. The other was doing the same, the two of them bubbling larger and larger at the same time. Dexter whimpered, unable to help himself as the pleasure of growth started to overwhelm him again. He wiggled his hips, feeling the weight of his own ass for the first time in his life.

It felt...good. Shamefully good.

As his cheeks continued to burn, his ass continued to grow, and as it did, he could see his belly pulling in a bit and his waist and hips pushing out just a little, giving him a wider, more hourglass-style of shape. Every twitch, every bubbling growth, every push outwards gave him a sense of swelling pleasure.

More than that, everything felt more sensitive, too. Rubbing his hand across his ass cheek wasn't quite as good as groping his breasts, but it was almost like that, giving him a sense of need, an urgent need to feel something else groping him back there.

Wobble, wobble, wobble. He could feel his new curves settling in all over his body, 'stabilizing' for lack of a better word. They still surged and declined, grew and shrunk, but they seemed to have finally settled in to a proper size, no longer quite so huge, no longer looking like they'd break him or leave him a cartoon version of himself, but nowhere near small enough to pretend that they weren't there, either.

The otter swayed back and forth, his cheeks burning as he finally looked down, taking in the damage. His cock was, thankfully, still a good size. Eight inches long, nice and thick, it was impossible to miss and it looked very manly.

That was a good thing, because nothing else about him did. Everything else had been feminized, from his shoulders pulling in to his chest looking like some bimbo slut's body had been put over his own. Everything that had been tight, small, or generally angular like a male's had been replaced with curves, his body an hourglass where it had been more of a V-shape...a twinky v-shape, but a v-shape, nonetheless.

He blushed worse as he realized that every single move he made caused a jiggle to run through him, and he groaned as his cock jumped at the feeling of the new jiggles and wiggles.

Dang...dang...fuck...

Dexter could hardly think with all the different stimulation running through him, struggling to even keep thinking of himself as a him rather than a 'her'. Even lacking a pussy - something that he thanked heavens for - he was still so feminine that he might as well embrace it, right?

He shook his head, but it was hard to think why that bothered him so much. He still had a dick, right? He still had a dick, that meant...

Did that mean he was a him? With boobs and a butt like that? When he looked so feminine that he could walk down the street and he'd be hit on by the straightest jock that walked the planet?

I'm not...not a...

But was he a...a shemale, maybe?

The word stuck in his head, and he couldn't get it back out. Completely female save for a cock. A she, but still male? Still something like...

Dexter fell to his - her - his - her -

HER! Her knees, the pronoun sticking in her head as the pleasure and tingles from earlier continued to ripple through her. It had to be magic, she realized, considering that it had changed her and now it was covering her body with sheer purple silk, stuff that was completely see-through and did nothing to hide her breasts or her cock or her ass. All it did was support some of the weight.

Her feet were wrapped in golden bangles at the ankles, little more than fancy shackles that felt like they were pulling at her will, suppressing it, pushing it down. Others appeared, smaller ones, slighter ones, more like links of chain around her wrists and between her breasts. Hard, gold points pushed painlessly through her nipples, giving her piercings and a chain to connect them.

And from her cock, rings began to emerge, cold, gold rings that wrapped around the base of her shaft and around the base of her balls, two different rings to make sure that they both stayed obvious, thrust forward, impossible to ignore.

It made her look like some sort of harem slut, someone that belonged behind closed doors so that they could be visited, abused, and used as much as their owner wanted. Dexter tried to think of what it could mean -

Gong...

The soft sound of a gong echoing through the mists caught her attention, and more, it seemed to pull at her body, dragging at her feet. Something in the distance was calling her.

No...no, that's bad... she thought, even as some part of her wanted nothing more than to escape this place. Something's wrong. Need to -

Gooooong.

The sound came again, louder, pulling at her and summoning her from the lamp. It pulled at her ankle, yanking at the shackles that were wrapped around them. Her feet were pulled out by the power of the sound, and she couldn't stop it. All she could do was go along for the ride, screaming as she was yanked free.

The real world appeared around her again, seen through a haze of smoke that was rapidly fading. She panted for breath, wobbling in actual gravity, all the curves on her body suddenly carrying real weight that made it hard for her to catch her balance.

Dexter whipped around, finding the goat staring at her with a wide grin. She went wide-eyed, turned to run -

"Ah ah. Your master called you."

And her feet stopped as if glued to the ground, her bare soles slapping against the carpeted floor. No matter how the otter tried to move, she couldn't. It was as if all agency had been stolen from her.

The otter was slowly made to turn to face the goat again, her body making her turn to face her 'master'. The idea that he was anything like that, that he could actually control her, left her chilled to the core, but her cock had other ideas. It was already rising, pushing up, getting her attention and begging for more of it.

By the time that she faced Summer again, the goat was grinning at her, his hand in his pants and his fingers wrapped around the growing bulge in there. The sheer perversion of the shop owner was obvious, and he was clearly interested in pushing her further. Dexter blushed, trying to shake her head -

"Ah ah. I told you. Your master called. You're the genie of the lamp, now, and guess who just rubbed it?"

"This..."

Was clearly not impossible, no matter how much Dexter wanted to say that it was. He had been turned into a she, his cock had grown, she had breasts and an ass that wouldn't quit, and she looked like some sort of genie that had been inducted into a harem. Her feet pressed more firmly against the floor, almost like the bare soles were seeking out additional stimulation, and he blushed as he realized how that must have looked.

It didn't help that the goat was looking at him like the randiest of his species would look at anything. That bulge, that throbbing bulge, made Dexter's asshole pucker slightly. It sent a shiver down his spine to realize that she had changed that much, that she actually found something like this...sexy.

Then, Summer held up the lamp. The little golden thing shimmered as he touched it.

"For my first wish, I wish for you to be my slave until I make a full three wishes," the goat said.

As soon as the words left Summer's mouth, Dexter felt the pressure of the lamp's magic slamming into her, warping her mind and body even further. She felt the shackles of the lamp's power around her neck and along her ankles, shackles of power to match the metal already there. Floated up by the lamp's magic, she felt it reach down to her cock, ringing it again, pressing another ring right behind the head of her shaft, marking it as an enslaved cock.

Two other rings were pressed down against her toes, two large gold bands that were wrapped around her toes. A little slit in the band allowed it to slide down enough to actually hit the base without cutting into the webbing between her toes, but even that...

Dexter stared at the glowing golden bands, feeling the keen humiliation of knowing that she'd just been marked as being owned by someone else. Her cheeks were on fire, but her cock was rising.

"Nnngh..."

"Who do you belong to, Genie?" the goat asked.

"Mmmph...I..."

Dexter fought against it, but the power of the lamp was too strong. It was still filling her with the magic that she'd need as a genie, and that power forced her to answer the question 'honestly.'

"You are my...my master, sir," she managed to mutter. "I...I am your slave."

"Wonderful. It worked."

"Nnnngh..."

Dexter wanted to cover herself, to grab for some of the older cloth items in the store. The transparent silks around her did nothing to hide her breasts, her cock, her balls, or anything else. She was completely barefoot, too, and that didn't make her feel any better. She felt like some sort of exposed slut, some sort of...

Some sort of slave, which she supposed she actually was at this point.

Her cheeks burned as the goat stepped forward, grabbing at her breasts and pulling at her nipples through the silk. She hissed, going up on tiptoe as the pleasurable pain hit her hard. The piercings that had appeared in her transformation provided the goat a perfect hand-hold for his teasing.

"Nnngh! Ah! Ah!"

She gasped, wriggling, futilely trying to pull back. Everything that she tried only pushed her in deeper, gave her more of that stimulation that she was trying to escape. She whimpered, biting her lips as her cock grew ever harder against the silk between her and the rest of the world, and she arched her back further, thrusting her breasts more into the goat's hands every time that he twisted the piercings further.

"Yes, yes, a good look for you. You'll show off well when I have clients in the store...and do even better when there's nobody to see my perversions."

"Mmmph...let go of me...or...or at least make your other two wishes," she said. "I don't want to be -"

"For my second wish. I wish for you to enjoy your slavery."

That was the worst thing that the goat could have said, and he had to know that. Dexter gasped as the magic clenched tighter around her, forcing her to use the power she'd been given to warp her own mind.

It hit her hard, washing over her head like a wave on the beach. It lashed against her angry, scared, and anxious thoughts and pulled at them, dragging them away one by one as the magic of the genie lashed against her mind. The screams in her head got worse, then better, then quieter the longer the magic had to work.

Little by little, her fears faded, and little by little, her cock got harder, her nipples perkier, and her asshole more and more eager for the feeling of being penetrated. Her frown slowly turned around, and her eyes started to glimmer with eagerness to serve.

The spell couldn't wipe away everything. There were limits even to a genie's power, and Dexter could still feel the fears. They were held in a little bubble in the middle of his mind, held there so that they couldn't affect how he acted. He still felt those emotions, but they were buried beneath the urge and the pleasure of serving.

The genie went to her knees as soon as the spell was done, smiling widely at the goat, her master. He smiled back at her, groping himself again.

"You will enjoy this, slave."

"I will, Master," she said without thought.

"You love my scent, don't you?"

The goat pulled her forward, and she breathed against his leather pants, sucking in the smell of randy male, of hot cock and heavy balls. The scent was strong, yes, and it was definitely muskier than she was used to smelling from herself...

But that was good. She was under the control of a real man, and that meant a stronger musk to serve.

"Do you have a name, Genie?"

"Dexter, Master."

"That doesn't fit anymore."

"Sorry, Master, no, it doesn't," the eager otter said, lowering her head. "What should I be called?"

"Dessa, I think. Slave Dessa."

"Slave Dessa is happy with her new name, Master."

"Good. Now...Slave."

He pulled at his zipper, and his cock finally flopped out. It was a massive, thick thing, humanoid in shape but big and bestial in size. The head was damp with pre-cum, and it was already veiny and ready for service.

Dessa couldn't help but drool at the sight of it. The thing was just what she wanted, what she needed, what she craved. She wanted to feel that in the back of her throat, and she wasn't about to let some bit of fear in the back of her head hold her back. Inhibitions, probably, something that would have kept her too ashamed to serve in the past.

No, we're what...what you used to...

She ignored the sound of that little voice in the back of her head. It sounded wimpy, anyway, something that would never get the cock that she really wanted. This was what made her happy, after all. Serving another, doing what she was told. This was what someone like her really wanted to do...

Right?

Despite the power of the genie's spell, despite the wish to make her like it, there was still some small hesitation in Dessa's head about what was going on. She knew that there was something wrong, that she'd been made to like this. That urgent need to serve, that hunger to take pleasure from service, was nearly enough to make her forget everything else...

But feeling that paradox was terrifying to the horny genie. It meant that there was something in her head, something that could snap and leave her scared again. She didn't want to be scared.

So, instead of holding back, she lunged forward. She flicked her tongue out, catching the head of Summer's cock and pulling it into her mouth. The otter shemale dragged that thick thing into her mouth, bringing her breasts up and hooking that big cock between them, dragging it against her so it rested against her chest.

"Yes, that's it. Serve my dick."

The goat didn't even seem to care that she was bobbing her head so frantically, didn't seem to notice that she was still serving out of a different sort of fear. Even as pleasure came as that cock passed her lips, even as she enjoyed the feeling of him filling her mouth with cock and pre-cum, he just leaned his head back and savored her service.

Dessa, on the other hand, was eager to give everything she could, sucking hard, licking along the underside, fondling his balls, doing everything that she could think of to make him happier. The feeling of service brought her pleasure, and it didn't take long before the barefoot, near-naked otter had a drooling cock of her own, making a puddle of pre-cum on the floor that spread further and further with each passing second.

The power of the lamp was strong in her, but no matter how she tried to use it, no matter how she tried to bring it to bear for her work, she couldn't do it without being ordered. The lamp kept her restricted.

Just one more wish, she thought. One more wish, and he has to let me go...right?

She hoped so...mostly...

The End