The Djinn, as always, manifested in pieces. First, her long, flowing black hair came into shape, fashioned into a ponytail that’s terminus almost reached the ground. Next came her wide, almond-shaped eyes, that, beautiful as they were, were upstaged still by the golden irises that lay at the center of each. Then her button nose, the plump lips that made up her mouth, and her pointy, elf-like ears appeared. With that, her face was now complete, and she smiled coyly.

Though her visage was unrivaled, her next features to appear were the King’s personal favorite: two massive, impossibly-round breasts, that defied gravity the way only a creature unbound by the laws of psychics could. Both of her large, bare nipples – a lighter shade of red than her surrounding skin- were pierced, a bright silver chain connecting both.

Lastly were her slender arms, delicate hands, and flat stomach (pierced belly button included). No legs, of course: her lower body instead trailed off into a sort-of tail that itself seemed to fade into the air behind her. And with that, the Djinn had once again entered this dimension.

Every time she appeared, and filled his nostrils with the smell of that long-dead flower, the King couldn’t help but think of how she came to serve his family. It was an epic tale of love and adventure, where his ancestor, then just a common thief, had claimed a princess, defeated an evil wizard, freed a Djinn, and ultimately became King himself in the process. The Djinn, in her gratitude, had sworn to serve him and his descendants for as long as she lived – which would be a very long time indeed, their lifespans being what they were.

The King sighed. He, like everyone else in his kingdom, loved the old story. He had heard it so many times that he could recite it flawlessly back, along with some of the disputed and controversial parts that scholars had long argued of the truth of (did the King’s ancestor, at some point, even seduce the Princess’ mother – the Queen? The Djinn would never tell, but she always smiled mischievously when he asked).

But, despite his fondness for the tale, it still filled him with a kind of melancholy. Where was his adventure? The peaceful Kingdom he ruled had been practically handed down to him by his father, who had, in turn, received it from his. All the old enemies had been vanquished, and all the lost treasures had long since been recovered, leaving only a few minor issues for him to resolve: a border dispute here, a fight over ceremonial titles there. All quickly solved, and peace had reigned ever since, which had been decades now.

The Djinn stretched, and placed her hands on her prodigious hips.

“Did you summon me, master?” she said, dryly.

This was a joke – Vatima (not her real name, but what the King called her, having tired quickly long ago of just calling her “Djinn”) had not been a servant to any since his ancestor relieved her of her duties at the end of the story that had become a legend. She found it funny. The King, however, really didn’t.

“You know I didn’t,” he replied, without even a hint of amusement in his voice.

Vatima laughed, causing her humongous breasts to move up and down, which in turn caused the silver chain that hung between them to rattle delicately.

“Oh, but you were thinking about me, weren’t you? I can always tell.” Vatima drifted over to the King, and placed a hand on his chest. She looked up at him, and fluttered her long eyelashes up at him, seductively.

The King turned away, and gazed back out at his city. This flirting no longer amused him. Djinn and humans were forbidden to marry, and if even they could, Vatima would have refused, for she had loved one and only one – his great ancestor, who, for his part, had spurned Vatima for the love of his Princess.

So what use her display, beyond giving her some cheap thrill, and at his expense? He had neither the patience nor the desire for it, at least not anymore (His teenage self had been a different story, he had to admit, and much to his embarrassment now).

“Fine: I wish for you to conjure me the perfect wife,” he said.

Vatima groaned, and stuck her tongue (also pierced) out in exaggerated disgust. “Uh, even if I had to grant your wishes, I would still try to find a way to wriggle out of that one. It’s just so boring!”

“What would you suggest, then?” he quickly countered.

“Hmmmm.” She placed a crimson finger to her lips, pretending to be deeper in thought than she really was. Her eyes lit up, an answer having apparently come to her.

“I know, let’s turn one of the male schmucks out there into your dream lover!” she exclaimed, pointing out at the city. “We’ll use my magic!”

The King rolled his eyes. “Yea, who?” he asked. “Don’t say we’ll punish a criminal in one of the palace cells, because there are none there that have committed an offense that would warrant that kind of punishment. And don’t say who should pick someone off the street at random, because that would be evil. We don’t have any prisoners of war, either, because we aren’t at war. And if we kidnapped the subject of another kingdom and used them, we soon would be.”

“We could use an animal,” said Vatima. “You have plenty of camels in the royal stables. Let’s use one of them, then!”

The King scoffed. “That’s disgusting, and you know it. Why are you Djinn so obsessed with transformation anyway? It seems like in every story involving your kind; you’re always transforming something into something else!”

Now it was Vatima’s turn act to act incredulous. “Uh, because it’s hot? Let me give you an example, babe. Thousands of years ago, back during my “bad” days, these two street urchins – two brothers - came across my lamp. That was a funny story, actually: the older brother was turning tricks for quick cash- he wasn’t gay or nothin’, but they needed the money – and one of his johns paid for the fuck with my lamp!”

“Now, normally that would have been a total rip-off, but in this case, it really did! The younger of the two rubbed the lamp, though, so he got the three wishes. Of course, he went for the boring stuff with the first two – money and a huge palace!”

She continued. “With that taste, I knew what his third wish was going to be before he even said it – a beautiful wife. So to make it worth my while and all, I turned the older brother into his “beautiful wife”! And before her former brother could protest, she got down on her knees and started sucking him off right then and there, in the living room of their new home! And let me tell you something: by the time she sucked the cum out of his balls, he didn’t care who she had been before!”

Vatima had begun to rub her nipples during the last section, and the King had to admit to himself that he found the story arousing as well.

“So what happened to them?” he asked.

“Eh, nothing exciting,” she said, dismissively. ”They were both pretty fuckin’ dumb before they ever met me, and the younger one didn’t exactly wish for either of them to be smarter, right? I mean, who would ever accept a lousy old lamp as payment instead of cash?”

The King nodded.

“So,” Vatima continued, “the younger brother lost all of his newfound riches and his newfound home in a couple years, mainly due to a gambling problem he developed in his rich-guy boredom. So he pimped out his brother-turned-wife for some extra dough, but one of her “clients” beat her to death after a particularly unsatisfying “session”. No surprise there: she was designed to be the perfect partner to her brother, but not to anyone else.”

“So yadda yadda yadda: he becomes an alcoholic in his grief, died from it a few years later. The end.”

The King laughed darkly. “And you wonder why Djinn aren’t trusted?”

“Pffft!” Vatima replied. “Those two were a couple of assholes, along with everyone else I had to serve before I met your grandfather. Besides you, stud!” she said with a wink.

She floated up to him, and placed her hands on her shoulders.

“C’mon, I know you liked that story,” she whispered in his ear. “Just like the old one about that loser that got himself turned into the dildo. We could do something like that now, for real.”

She began to rub his shoulders. “The perfect woman, tailored exactly to your liking. Wide, child-bearing hips. Thick, strong legs. An ass you could serve tea off of. And tits as big and round as mine.”

The King closed his eyes. “And her face?” he asked.

“Oh, she’ll be as beautiful as your mother was,” Vatima replied. “And we’ll make her smart and cultured and shit too, since that’s so important to you.”

The King opened his eyes, and turned to Vatima. “Except I want two,” he said.

Vatima’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “Two wives? Maybe I underestimated you, your Grace. No one in your line has had the balls to take multiple wives in hundreds of years. Even the Great King himself wouldn’t take me and the Princess to be his, even after I begged him!”

“I thought Djinn and humans couldn’t be wed?” the King asked.

“I would have broken all the rules, if it was for him,” Vatima replied, longing in her voice.

The King raised an eyebrow. “Would you do the same for me, now?”

Vatima’s response was simple and to the point: “Hell yeah.”