JULIJANA: Волшебные превращения мужчины в женщину JULIJANA: Волшебные превращения мужчины в женщину JULIJANA: Волшебные превращения мужчины в женщину
* Рассказы
* Картинки
* Комиксы
* Фото-арт
* Анимашки


Ваши истории * Фото * Мисс Транс * Вопросы * Логи * Знакомства * Форум * Чат
Методики *
Словарик *
Реклама *
Ссылки *
О сайте *
Transgender / Transformation stories in English
Subtitle: I DREAM OF GENE

*************************************************
Note to prospective reader:  I think of myself not as a writer or an
author, but as a surrealistic wordsmith, pioneering the literary art
form of Out- based Free-prose.  Therefore, in the following composition,
any and all adherence to the rules governing the proper use of the
English Language is purely coincidental.  The reader will find the
sentence structure has a marked tendency to be somewhat cumbersome, due
to the extremely liberal use of adjectives.  Also, the follow piece has
its' fair share of dangling participles and a whole caboodle of
hyphenated words.

Another note to the prospective reader:  The following story was based
on a fairly simple, though admittedly far fetched premise and was
allowed to evolve on its' own, surprising your most humble and obedient
surrealistic wordsmith with some of the twist and turns it took as it
did so.

And yet another tiresome note to the prospective reader:  The follow
story contains sexually explicit and transgender related material.  If
you are under age or are afraid that the perusal of such vulgar subjects
might curve your spine, grow hair on the palms of your hands, rot your
brain or something or other along those lines, the answers is simple.
STOP! READ NO FURTHER!
*************************************************

        Weather permitting, Gene Renyolds and his wife generally spent
their Saturday mornings rummaging around flea-markets and yard-sales,
looking for what they, in their lexicon, had come to term 'treasures'.
Ann, Gene's better-half, kept an eye out for brass fabricated whatnots
and doodads, while her husband tended to busied himself checking out
used tools and other sundry handyman-like paraphernalia.

        "Look, dear!", Ann gleefully exclaimed as linked up with her
husband at the end of the row of display tables they had been browsing
through.  "Look what I found!"

        "Wow!", having nonchalantly given the highly tarnished and crude
encrusted item a cursory glance, Gene sarcastically chided.  "Gee, hon!
Another Persians lamp!  Just what we need!  Let's see!  What's that
make?   Five?  Six?

        "No!", Gene quickly corrected himself.  "I plum forgot about
that gaudy, semi-precious jewel encrusted eyesore that you absolutely
had to have last week!

        "Wait!  It couldn't have been last week!  Last week we were down
the ocean!  And you and I didn't go flea-marketing while we were there.
So, given that, it had to be the week before last!  It was, wasn't it,
dear?"

	"Yes.", Ann concurred good naturedly.   

        "Well, If my recollection serves me right, if we add this new
one into the count, I do believe that that makes a grand total of seven
these Chinese or Taiwanese knock-off Persian-styled brass lamps that
you've picked up here of late.

        "I mean to tell you honey, to my way of thinking, you've got a
real collection going!  Soon... sure as shootin'... knowing you... it
won't be long now before you're going to want me to make some sort of
shelf to display them on.

        "What gives, Ann?  Have you all of a sudden developed a Persian
lamp fetish or, are you secretly harboring the far fetched hope that one
fine day, like Aladin of legend, you're going to come into the
possession of one that actually houses an all powerful, turban wearing,
muscular, hairy chested, forearms banded in eighteen karat gold
bracelet-like what-ya'-ma-call-'ems, wish fulfilling genie?  Y'know,
that's straight out of Sheharrazod's a Thousand and One Tales of the
Arabian Knights!"

        "No, dear!", Ann replied, adding a whimsical after-thought,
"Though I must admit.  It sure would be nice were something like that to
happen.  I mean, think about it, dear.  Wouldn't it be a hoot to have a
magic wielding genie at your every beck and call?"

        "Why, Ann?  Please tell me!", Gene chided.  "Just what in the
world do you need a genie for?  After all, you've got little old at your
every beck and call! Granted... I'm a first class procrastinator... but
even though I am... don't I pretty much attend to your every bidding!
And, if I do say so myself, though I must admit I do have my fair share
of faults, all in all, I'm a pretty good husband... not to mention, a
step-and-fetch-it to boot!  Aren't I?  I mean, though I've yet to win
the lottery, all things considered, you have to admit that I do a fair
to midland job of providing for you."

        "Yes, dear."  Ann was quick to add,  "Though you have yet to
come up to my parents' rather grandiose and unrealistic expectations of
what a husband is supposed to be and do, I must say: all in all, you do
a pretty good job of it.  Far better than most. Though,", she added in a
hasty afterthought, "there's always room for improvement.

        "However,", Ann, holding the tarnished, gunk and crude encrusted
lamp in one hand and reaching down to grasp her husband's hand with her
other, continued on playfully, "if you'd like to make your little wiffey
happy, dear, and there by, increase your chances of getting lucky
tonight, perhaps... when we get home... after I fix us some lunch...
would you'd be so kind as to work a little bit of your own brand of
handyman magic on this new lamp of ours.  I do believe, that once you
get all the tarnish and gunk off of it, this new find of mine is going
to be the center piece of my budding Persian lamp collection."

        "Cute!  Real cute!  You know, that's flat out and out bribery,
Ann!  If I'm hearing you right... and I sincerely belive that I am...
your saying: that if I want to get laid tonight,  it would be in my best
interest were I to get on the stick and see what I can do about getting
all of that crude, gunk and tarnish off that new  'treasure' of your's."

        "Please!", Ann returned.  "I promise: I'll make it worth your
while, Gene.

        "In fact, dear... if you'll see what you can do about cleaning
up this lamp for me this afternoon, and not put it on that proverbial
back burner of yours... y'know, like you tend to do with most of the
projects that I've asked you to do for me... I'll go you one better.
Tonight, as a precursor to our love making... just to tickle that
perverse and perverted fancy of your's... I'll even go so far as to wear
that kinky little black satin maid's outfit that you gave me as, what I
took to be a gag gift, on my last birthday. High heels!  Mess stockings!
The works!"

        "You will!", Gene's tone signified that he was both intrigued
and delighted with his wife's most generous and intriguing offer.

        "Yes, dear.", Ann replied, "Though I'm probably going to regret
it... y'know, given how foolish I'll feel getting all gussied up in that
skimpy getup... if you'll see what you can do about cleaning up this new
Persian lamp of mine... knowing fully well how much of a kick you'd get
out of seeing me decked out in one of those dick-teaser specials that
you - though you can hardly ever cajole me into wearing one 'em for you
- keep buying for me... I promise!  Tonight, I'll bite the bullet; stow
my inhibitions and wear one of the darn things for you.

	"Deal?", Ann queried.

        "Deal!", Gene quipped enthusiastically, if not excitedly.


* * *


        Just thinking about his wife and how fetchingly provocative she
would look decked out in that sexy black satin maid's outfit titillated
the hell out of Gene's rather vivid imagination.  No matter how hard he
tried, over and over again, all throughout the drive back to their home,
the image of Ann prancing around in such revealing and blatantly
seductive garb kept cropping up in his mind.

        Needless to say, by the time he pulled into their driveway, Gene
Renyolds was one motivated puppy.  In fact, his wife's promise had him
so no holds bar motivated that no sooner had he gotten in the front door
of their house, he was dashing off to the sanctum sanctorum of his
basement workshop; there, to fetch his self-complied, handy-dandy, brass
clean kit. Shortly thereafter, even as his wife turned to the task of
preparing their lunch at the kitchen counter, which was to consist of
grilled cheese sandwiches, chips and  a couple of dill pickle slices,
Gene, having first spread a wealth of old newspapers over one entire end
of their kitchen table, placed his wife's newly acquired lamp directly
on the paper before him.  Then, in a cursory effort to see just how much
a chore the lamp's restoration would entail, Gene, knowing that he would
have to stop shortly and eat the sandwiches that Ann was even then
preparing, decided to get a head start on the project.  So opting, he
scanned the arsenal of cleaning implements at hand and selected a twill
cleaning cloth and a small bottle containing several ounces of your
everyday, industrial strength, handy-dandy, liquid brass cleaner.
Dabbing the twill cloth with of few drops of the cleaning fluid, he
started in on the lamp.

        One rub.  Two rubs.  And then, just as he was on the
reciprocating, backward drawing portion of the circular motion of his
third preliminary rubbing endeavor, a most astonishing thing occurred.

        Without any sort of attention garnishing pyrotechnic flash or,
for that matter, ominous heralding sound, Gene and Ann's life together
was, at that instant in time, being subjected to a drastic and traumatic
mystical revamping.

        Given the fact that he rarely, if ever, employed the F-word, a
very uncharacteristic, and somewhat irrational sounding shriek of Gene's
startled and somewhat choked off, "What the Ffff... uck!", was the first
and only indication that his wife had that anything was amiss.

        Fearing that something awful had happened, that perhaps some of
the caustic cleaning fluid had somehow gotten in one or both of her
husband's eyes or, that he had gotten careless and inadvertently spilled
some of the brass cleaner on the brand new linoleum floor that he had,
after one hell of a lot of procrastination on his behalf, finally gotten
around to installing for her - Ann immediately ceased what she was doing
and pivoted briskly about.

        The phenomenon that Ann Renyolds beheld as she turned to face
the end of the table that her husband had been seated at defied her
ability to comprehend. There was Gene.  Or, more accurately, there was
what was left of Gene.  From mid chest upwards, Gene was still the Gene
that she had known and loved since high school.  However, from mid chest
downward, for all intent and purposes, Gene's lower extremities had plum
up and vanished into a severely tapering, violently whirling,
cyclone-like, purple-violet tinged funnel that sort of emulated a
witch's high peeked hat turned topsy-turvy and failed - by a good foot
or more - to extent itself all the way down to the linoleum.

        As far as Ann could tell, Gene's feet and legs were completely
gone and, given the severity of the funnel's downward tapering, her
logic decreed that there was absolutely no way that the madly spinning,
purple-violet vortex could ever begin to conceal her husband's hips,
abdomen or, for that matter, the lowermost portion of his chest.

        "Ann!", Gene frantically wailed as the cyclone- like funnel
continued to extend itself steadily upward, engulfing and eradicating
both his upper torso and his aimlessly flailing arms in the process.
"Help meeeeee!  Pleeeease!  My body!  It's coming apart! Unraveling!
Molecule by molecule!  Atom by atom!"

        And then, in a blink of an eye, Gene was gone. Vanished.
Nothing remained, save for the frantically swirling, purple-violet,
cyclone-like funnel.  For a lingering instant, the wildly spinning
tornado-like funnel hovered just above the chair that Ann's husband had
been occupying but a brief moment or so before. Then, the swirling,
purple-violet, twister-like vortex began to rise and as it did, it
re-positioned itself so that its' tapered lower apogee hovered just
inches above table top.  Once so position, the cyclone-like funnel's
tapered lower apogee appeared to Ann as if it were drawn horizontally,
directly towards the lip of the lamp's rune decorated, crude encrusted
spout.  So positioned, in, what was to Ann, a sickening sucking sounding
whoosh, the purple-violet funnel-like whatever-you-what-to-call-it was
dramatically drawn downward into the lamp's interior in a manner which,
to Ann's way of thinking, was very reminiscent of how Jeannie - of 'I
Dream of Jeannie' fame - was drawn down into her bottle.

        "Oh, My God!", Ann exclaimed in pained disbelief as she boldly
advanced upon the table and the crude encrusted lamp which rested so
sedately upon it.

        "Gene!", she gasp, knowing that the airing of her husband's name
was a little more than a futile endeavor.  "What the hell happened?
What in the world did you do?"

        To her credit, Ann Renyolds, who, according to her husband,
could be a real air-head of a dizbang at times, tended to functioned
extremely well under the duress imposed by crises situations.  Truth be
told, it always amazed Gene how his wife could remain so calm, cool and
collected when darn near everyone around her seemed to becoming apart at
the seams.

        Needless to say, Ann Renyolds found herself right smack dab in
the middle of what her grandfather would have termed a real genuine
sockdolager of a crises situation.  Taking a few deep, settling breaths
to still both her ire and her ragging state of befuddled confusion, Ann
endeavored to do what Gene would have done under similar circumstances,
and that was: apply a health dose of logic to the situation.

        Quickly, Ann mentally complied the facts as she knew them to be.
One: her husband had been dickering around with what looked to be a
Persian lamp, quite possible the genuine article.  Two: according to all
the pertinent legends and their various fablized renditions, some
Persian lamps were reputed to house genies.  Three: these so called
jinns and genies generally entered and exited their lamps... or, in some
depictions, like   on the sitcom 'I Dream of Jeannie', bottles via, what
Ann thought of as the metaphysical disassembling/reassembling method...
y'know, the ancient Arabian precursor of Star Trek's nifty transporter
system, that in layman's terms, basically digitalized a person's
physical being for darn near instantaneous transmission to some other
local.  Four: generally speaking, one summoned a jinn or genie by
rubbing the prescribed containment vessel, be that prescribed
containment vessel a lamp, bottle, gilded box or whatever.

        Having been a devotee of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's super sleuth
Sherlock Holmes, Ann readily agreed with the world's first consulting
detective's oft quoted postulate that, in bastardized form, roughly
stated: that when the facts of a case clearly poo-pooed all the probably
solutions, what was left, no matter how improbable, had to be only
conclusion a logical person could deduce.  So, bearing that oft quote
Holmesian postulate in mind, Ann Renyolds, in her desperation, embraced
the only hope she had at hand, with that fragile hope being: that her
husband's body had somehow undergone some sort of metaphysical
disassembling process and that his essential essence now resided in some
magically induced state of being - genie-like - within the lamp's
confines.

        'Okay,', Ann asked herself. "If that's what occurred... if
Gene's undergone some sort of magical transformation and has been sucked
into this lamp, how the hell do I get him out?  Do I just rub the lamp
and hope that it - I guess you could say -  regurgitates him?

        'Wait just a ding dong moment!', Ann mentally chided herself.
'Don't be hasty!  Think it through!

	'What's the worst thing that can happen?

        Answering herself, Ann quickly replied, 'What happened to Gene
could happen to me!  I could get all physically discombobulated and end
up getting sucked in there with him!

        'Yes!', the Ann mental countered herself.  'Yes, you could!
There's always that possibility.  But, is that really the worst thing
that could happen.'

        Ann, supplying an answer to her own inquiry, 'No! The worst
thing that I can thing of can happening is: that nothing at all will
happen!  I mean, if I do, in the end, opt to give rubbing the lamp a go,
and that results in me getting sucked inside as well, so be it! At least
I'll be with Gene, in whatever form or state of being that life - if
indeed there is life - inside the lamp entails.

        'Besides,', Ann number 1 continued, 'maybe it'll work!  Maybe,
if I rub the lamp while wishing, with my whole heart and soul, to have
my husband back, the lamp will reciprocate and reproduce him.  I mean,
it's worth the risk, isn't it?'

        'Yes...', Ann, at a loss to come up with any alternatives,
concurred with herself,  'Yes...  It's definitely worth the risk!'

        And so, having arrived at the decision to give rubbing the lamp
a go, Ann picked the lamp up and, cradling in the crux of her left arm,
began the first of three very defined and firmly applied circular
motions of her right hand; caressing, in a somewhat forceful manner, the
tarnished and gunked-up outer surface of the lamp; all the while
wishing, in her heart of hearts, for her husband's return.

        One rub.  Two rubs.  And the all important third rub.  And
shazam!  The lamp shuddered once and then, in answer to Ann's most heart
felt desire, began to spume out a billowing and ever expanding,
swirling, cyclone-like, purple-violet vortex.  Then, once the
mini-twister-like funnel formed, it scooted off to an open area of the
kitchen floor where in hovered and succinctly began to coalesce itself
into something that began to emulate the human form.  Within seconds,
the form had taken on definite, recognizable human characteristic, such
as arms, legs and a pair of rather ample, if not succulent, halter
encased mammary glands.

        "Shit!', Ann riled. 'Shit!  Shit!   Shit!  Those are definitely
breast and my Gene - most assuredly - doesn't have breast!'

        Sure enough, the fuming, purple-violet, funnel- like,
whatever-you-what-to-call-it was transforming itself into a human.
Trouble was, the human it was transforming itself into was definitely of
the female persuasion.

        And what a striking female the swirling vortex was coalescing
itself into.

        Petite!  About five two at the most.  Blonde!  Of the striking,
platinum blonde, eye-riveting variety. Dazzling and beguiling sapphire
hued eyes!  The kind of eyes that could, with little or no effort,
entice a man to willing immerse his most ardent and scandalous desire
within them.  And for toppers, a most bodacious bod of a body!  A
sculpture, flawless, built like a brick shithouse body.  The kind of
body that could, and probably would, cause a whole bevy of Playboy's
most drop-dead gorgeous playmates to turn a putrid and most envious
tinge of vivid green.

        It should also be noted that the blue and gold harem-girl
ensemble that the little blonde blue-eyed bombshell of a male-libido
captivating creature was so scandalous decked out in did nothing to
detract from her overall appearance.  Fact is: though it's impact
failure to register on a gravely disheartened Ann, the harem-girl outfit
only served to enhance the female genie's - for that's what Ann took the
girl to be - overall appearance.

        'Now that's strange!  Really strange!', Ann, who was fretfully
biding her time to address the little blonde bombshell, couldn't help
but reflexively pondered.  'One might expect a genie to undergo a
smidgen of disorientation upon materializing.  After all, being couped
up in the cramped confines of a brass lamp for - God knows how long! -
can't be a whole hell of a lot of fun.  But this is ridiculous!
Absolutely ridiculous!

        'I mean... she's about as discombobulated as discombobulated can
be!  Just look at the frenzied and frantic way she's keeps plucking at
the diaphanous material of her pantaloons... not to mention, the crass
and oafish manner she alternates between squeezing the shit out of those
ample breast of hers and groping  her crotch!  Shit!  It looks as if
she's as befuddled and perplexed as I am!  Hell!  She's so damn
preoccupied playing a game of grab-ass with herself, it's a safe bet to
say that she doesn't even know I'm here!

        'Well...', Ann mentally chided herself.  'What's it going to be,
girl?  Are we going to stand here all day, watching Little Miss
Lamp-spawn feel herself up one side and down the other... or, are we
going to see what in the hell we can do about getting Gene back?'

        "Okay, sister!", Ann demanded in a belligerent huff that achieve
the desired effect of securing the little blonde bombshell of a genie's
attention. "Enough's enough!  It's high time you stop playing grab-ass
with yourself and tell me: just who in the hell are you and just what in
the hell have you up and done with my husband?

        "You see, I want him back!  And I want him back now!  And if
that going to take a wish on my part to achieve it... so be it!
 
	"I wish for my husband back!"

        With a pained look a sheer and utter desperation welling up out
the depths of her sapphire blue eyes, the stunning, harem clad femme
fatale, who, Ann noted, was still aimless and unconsciously plucking at
the diaphanous material of her thong-bikini tethered pantaloons, among
other things, despairingly and hesitantly replied, "Ann... it's me!
Gene!  Your husband!'

        "Get real!", Ann scoffed.  "Look, dearie!  I don't know what
kind of scam you're trying to pull here, but I do know my husband!  I
can tell you: you ain't him!

        "He's a man!  Your a woman!  And never the twain shall meet!"

        "So cut the crap, sister!  Just tell me what you've done with
him and then, tell me what I need to do to get him back?"

        Assuming the hands outstretched stance and deportment of a
humble and pleading supplicant, the harem clad little blonde hastily and
passionately proceeded on to entreated Ann to hear her out. "Please...
Ann!', her speech was strained.  She stammered, fumbling for her words,
"As crazy as it must surely sound... I not lying!  What I told you
before, Ann... is the truth!  Regardless of the fact that I've now got a
girl's body... I'm really... truly... am your husband, Gene!

        "Yeah!  Right!", Ann, who's patient was wearing thin, countered
with pure, unadulterated sarcasm, "And friggin' I'm the Queen of Sheba!"

        "Ann!  Please!  Please!  You've got to believe me!  I'm Gene...
or... I was Gene... y'know, before I got sucked into that so and so of a
lamp of your's and got somehow fitted out with this... this... this...
damnable, femmed out to the friggin' max of a body!"

        Though she would have like to repudiate the lithe little
blonde's assertion out of hand, give the fat that the very notion that
her husband had somehow been magically turned into a girl, repulsed her
to no end, Ann, who was, according to Gene, magnanimous to a fault,
found that, given all the magical/mystical shit involved, the harem-clad
girl might just be telling the truth.  If the lamp could metaphysically
digitalized someone into a whirling cyclone-like vortex and then, suck
that digitalized, swirling funnel-like whatever into it's innards, she
had to assume that a full blown sex change wasn't beyond the realm of
possibility.  As repugnant as the concept was to contemplate for Ann,
the girl might really be Gene.

        "Alright!  If you're are indeed my husband... reincarnated in
female form... tell me: why did the lamp do this dastardly thing to you?
I mean... have you been harboring a secret desire to be a woman, or
what?"

        As the Gene-claimant (or should that be Gene- claimette) opened
her mouth to respond to Ann's latest query, something untold occurred.
For the span of several of Ann's rather exacerbated heart beats, the
blonde bombshell's physique was riveted by an uncharacteristic, if not,
unnatural rigidity.   As it did so, Ann, who was standing about one full
body's length away, perceived a strange and somewhat disquieting visual
phenomenon surrounded the girl's supple form.  In a fashion that
mimicked the shadow- like image produced by the double-exposure of a
single of frame of photographic film, the harem-clad femme fatale's body
was silhouetted by a halo-like display of multiple, slightly off-set
images, that, to Ann's perception, looked something akin to the visual
effect produced by the rapid, blur-inducing, vibrations of a recently
struck tuning fork.

        Then, with the abrupt cessation of that disquieting visual
phenomenon and its' accompany induced physical rigidity, the exquisite
blue-eyed blonde, who, to Ann's way of thinking, appeared complete
oblivious to the phenomenon's occurrence, replied, "No, Ann!  Regardless
how it might appear, there's no way in hell that I was harboring some
latent desire to be a woman!  It was all the lamp's doing!

        "You see Ann, the opulent, desert warmonger of potentate who
commissioned this particular lamp was very specific.  Unlike most
perspective magic lamp owners, who generally didn't give a tinker's damn
about the sexual affiliation of their lamp's resident jinn... 'y'know,
just as long as said jinn functioned as advertised... this particular
potentate, given his darn near insatiable, if not, legendary apatite for
beautiful women, desired his lamp's jinn to be brazeningly and
beguilingly female.

        "So anyhow, Ann... having procured the necessary containment
vessel... in this case, a rather mundane Persian oil lamp... the
magic-user artisans who had undertaken the potentate's commission,
having first skilfully ensnared the essential essence of an all powerful
elemental being, imprisoned that essential metaphysical essence within
the lamp.

        "However, before this cadre of magic-user artisans could
introduce the required human element... y'know, that would, through some
rather convoluted mystical manipulations, become bonded with the
elemental being's essential essence, thusly creating the lamp's resident
jinn, something out of the ordinary must have occurred and, for what
ever reason, the human component was never introduced into the
metaphysical equation.

        "Then, you come along and purchase the lamp.  You cunningly
entice me into cleaning it for you... y'know, via that intriguing offer
of yours.  And whalla!  I innocently go and get myself sucked down
inside of the dastardly thing where, unbeknownst to little old your's
truly, I end up getting jinnhood whipped on me!  And then, to top the
whole inglorious thing off, given some very persnickety preset
conditions that were just lounging around waiting to be enacted by the
presence of the human element, I end up with a body that's - balls to
the walls -  about as bodaciously feminine as bodaciously feminine can
be!

        "I mean... even on my good days, Ann... try as I might... I'd
have a hell of a hard time conjuring up a sexual fantasy dream date that
looks even half as spectacular as I friggin' do now!"

        "Oh, my God!", Ann exclaimed, conceding the fact that the
alluring blonds was indeed her husband. "Gene!  It is you, isn't it!"

        Gene, using his hands to give both of his newly installed
mammary protrusion an emphasizing jiggle, "Yeah...", the tone of his
newly honey sweeten voice clearly registering both his sarcasm and
distress, "It's me!  Your husband!  And guess what, hon... not that I'm
in any way, shape or form exactly thrilled about it... mine are bigger
than your's!"

        "This is awful!  Simply awful!", Ann concurred. "What are we
going to do about it, Gene?"

        Once again the jinnified Gene Renyold's ultra femininized bod of
a most bodacious body went stark raving rigid and underwent the
multiple-image overlay thing-of-a-ma-bob that Ann had witness but a
moment or so before.

        "Nothing that I know of Ann.", the blonde, blue eyed and amply
breasted Gene replied, once the what- ya-ma-call-it of a
thing-of-a-ma-bob had succinctly come and gone.  "As far as I know, the
effects of what happened to me... y'know, when I got yanked down into
that lamp... are irreversible!"

        "But you're a genie now, aren't you Gene?  And genies are
reputed to possess rather substantial magically powers!  So... if that's
the case, Gene... couldn't I just wish you back to your former manly
self?"

        Ann's inquiry seem to trigger yet another onset of the sort
duration, multiple-image overlay thing-of- a-ma-bob phenomenon that had
twice before visited themselves upon her newly transsexualized jinn of a
husband.

        "Yes mistress, it is true that I have become the genie of the
lamp.  However, even though I now possess an almost unimaginable magical
potential, should you wish me to resume my former form as a male, I
regret that I will not be able to comply.  The lamp will simply not
allow me to do so.  It was ordained long ago, by those long dead magical
artisans that fashioned the lamp, that it was to house a beautiful
female jinn.  You may, should you elected to do so, direct me to alter
my physical deployment to suit your whims.  You can command me to either
increase or decrease my present stature.  Change the color of my hair.
Make it long or short.  Kinky or straight.  You can command me to assume
any or all the characteristic of any race.  You can, should you so
choose, have me increase or decrease the size of my breast.  You can
direct me to appear either a tad bit younger or a smidgen older.
However, no matter what you elect, given the edicts present in the lamp,
I will remain both female and beautiful."

        Ann had been so pre-occupied with something that her ultra
feminized husband had said that she had been somewhat distracted and,
though she believe that she had caught the gist of what he, as a she,
had said, the details had, as they are apt to say, fallen by the
wayside.

        "Did I hear you right?", Ann posed the question. "Did you just
now call me 'mistress'?"

        "Yes mistress, I did.", Gene, with that new, honey sweet voice
of his, returned flatly.

	"How come?"

        "Protocol, mistress.  You are the rightful owner of the lamp.  I
am its' jinn.  I therefore am to address you properly and 'mistress' is
the proper term for a jinn to employ when addressing a woman who is
possession of her lamp."

        "That's nonsense!", Ann heated countered.  "You may be the genie
of the lamp now, but your also my husband, Gene!  And I'll be damned if
my husband... even if he's up and turned into a genie and been femmed
out to the friggin' max in the process... is going to call me
'mistress'!  Ann, honey or any form of endearment will suffice!  So,
let's loose the 'mistress' crap!  Okay?"

        "Yes, Misss... - Ann!  I will endeavor to heed your wishes!"

        "Good!  At least we've taken care of that particular fly in the
ointment!", Ann commented, feeling like she had made at least a little
progress in trying to get a handle on the situation.

        "Now Gene... now that you and I have an understanding about that
'mistress' crappolla, let's also loose all this formality bullcrap that
seems to have cropped up here of late!  Okay?  You're you... Well...
you're not the you that you use to be... but you know what I mean, don't
you, Gene?"

        "Yes, Misss... - Ann!  I do.  I will try to do as you ask.
However, miss... - Ann, I need you to be aware that I dealing with a
whole slew of preset conditions and compulsions.  So please, bear with
me. I might - from time to time - lapse and miss-speak myself."

        "Fair enough!", Ann returned.  "Now, Gene... due to that
'mistress' crappolla of yours... I might have been a wee bit distracted.
So, let me get something straight here.  Did you... or did you not say
something to the effect that you are unable to turn yourself back into a
man?"

        "Yes, Misss... - Ann, I did.  While you can direct me to modify
my appearance to suit your whims, regrettable, the lamp was designed to
house a beautiful female jinn and so, a female jinn I will remain."

        "Alright...", Ann replied thoughtfully.  "Let's see...

        "Gene!  Do you remember the Disney film 'Aladin'?"

        "Yes, Misss... - Ann, I do.", Gene's honey sweetened voice
return, registering his confusion as to where his wife was going with
this new tact of her's.

        "Well... at the end of the movie Aladin freed the genie with his
last and final wish.  So... I was wondering if I could do likewise and
gain your freedom with wish?"

        For a third time, rigidity, accompanied by the multiple-image
overlay thing-of-a-jig-of-a-ma-bob of a short-lived seizure, momentarily
imposed itself on Gene Renyold's ultra feminized bod of a most striking
and bodacious body.

        "No!", Gene pleaded.  "That's not a good idea, mistress!  Sorry!
Ann!"

	"And just why isn't it, Gene?"

        "Because, Ann... were you do that... given the fact that the
elemental half of the new me is a whole hell of a lot more powerful than
the human half of me... once freed, the elemental half of me would
skedaddle back to the neither realms it and its' kind inhabit, taking
the human half of the new and thoroughly feminized me right along with
it!"

        "Oh!", Ann quipped.  "Then, I guess that isn't a viable idea."

	"No, Misss... - Ann!  It most assuredly isn't!

        "While I'm anything but ecstatic about my current situation...
y'know, what with me and my being a femmed out to the friggin' max of
lamp housed jinn... given the chaotic charged impressions I have of the
metaphysical neither realms of existence, I'll take the this jinnified
harem girl shit any day of the friggin' week!"

        "Okay!", Ann concurred.  "So were does that leaves us?"

        "Back at the beginning, Misss... - Ann.  You are the lamp's
rightfully owner.  I am its' resident jinn. Your wish, therefore, is my
command."

        "Hmm...", Ann tone was thoughtful.  "So... how many wishes do I
get, Gene?  The customary three?"

        Ann's question, or so she presumed, triggered yet another brief
duration, rigid, image-overlay whatever- you-want-to-call-it of a fit to
invest itself upon her blonde haired, blue eyed, amply endowed, harem
girl- clad, jinn femme fatale of once upon a short time ago of a
husband.

        "No, Misss... - Ann!", Gene replied once the seizure had come
and gone, "You are not constrained to a mere three wishes.  As long as
you remain the rightful owner of the lamp, my magic is your's to
command."

        "Are you saying,", Ann, seeking qualification, proceeded on to
inquiry, "that I have an unlimited number of wishes?"

	"Yes, Mmmm... - Ann... that's is correct."

        "However,", Gene continued, endeavoring to qualify his prior
statement, "you should be aware, Ann... that a jinn is much like a
common, ordinary, everyday battery, given the fact that I have only so
much magical potential available to me during any physical manifestation
of mine.  When that magical potential is spent, I must return to the
lamp to re- charge myself.  Also, you should be aware that, out of
necessity, I will be forced, from time to time, to return to my lamp in
order to replenish the elemental aspect of this new make-up of mine.

        "But getting back to subject of wishes...  Let me re-assure you,
Mmmm... - Ann!  While some jinns have been fashion by their makers to be
first class tricksters, abiding by the letter of the stated wish and not
by intent of the intoner's desires, have no fear.  I have not been
fashion to be that sort of jinn.  If you will allow me the liberty, when
and wherever possible, I will endeavor to aid you in fashioning and
phrasing your wishes so as to assure that whatever goal or outcome you
desire is fully achieve.

        "When in doubt, Ann, fear not.  I shall seek your clarification.

	"Alright?"

        "Yeah...", Ann, who appeared somewhat befuddled about something
or other, readily agreed, "Sounds good to me!

        "Gene!", Ann intoned, with the implication being that another
question had pooped into her head.

        "Yes...", Gene replied, as he, as the amply endowed she that he
had become, unconsciously reached up and, jostling his right mammary
protrusion, adjusted its' deployment within the cup of the golden satin
halter top it - his recently distended boobie - resided within.

	"Tell me something!"

	"If I can, Mmmm... - Ann."

        "Every now and again... seemingly when I ask you a question...
something strange occurs."

	"It does?"

	"Yes, Gene.  It does."

	"Like what?"

        "Like you go all rigid!  And then, for just a quick second or
so, you undergo some sort of... what I can only describe as... some sort
of out of phase juxtapose of your image.  It's like you go out of sync
with yourself and one after another of your images gets sort of
superimposed on top of the others...

	"What gives, Gene?  What's happening?"

        "Oh, that...", Gene appeared nonchalant about Ann's
observations.  "It's nothing.  To tell you the truth, Ann, I wasn't
aware that it was even noticeable."

        "Well it is!  And I'd really like to know why you keep doing
it!", Ann demanded tersely.

        "The explanation is rather simple", Gene began as he
absentmindedly began to once again crassly and oafishly grope his newly
reconstructed crotch, endeavoring - in a vain effort - to re-position
the male anatomy that he - as a she - no longer sported.

        "As you know, Mmmm... - Ann, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot
of elapse time between my getting sucked into the lamp and your
subsequent summoning me forth. And because there wasn't, I hadn't even
begun to assimilate all the various shit that I needed to know to
function as a jinn.

        "Fact is, Ann: I had just completed bonding with the essence of
the lamp-ensnared elemental when you summoned me forth.  And due that,
when I re- materialized, I had little or no information about my new
status as a jinn.  I knew who was and who I had been.  I mean... this
jinnhood of mine didn't go fiddle-fucking around with my prior memory or
anything.  As far as I can tell: my memory is still intact.

        "Would you believe that as incredulous as it must surly sound, I
retained my awareness all throughout the process.  I knew -
instinctively - that the lamp had been the prime mover in the whole
affair.  I knew that it had somehow turned my body into a friggin'
swirling metaphysical atomized vortex.  And even when I existed in the
form of that swirling metaphysical atomized vortex, I was aware of the
fact that I was being sucked down into lamp's innards.  And though it
defies my ability to accurately articulate, once my atomized ethereal
essence was within the lamp, I became keenly aware that something
extraordinary was occurring...  that I was undergoing so sort of
monumental change... that I was becoming part of a larger... or, I guess
you could say... more powerful being...

        "But that - in a nut shell - is about it, Ann. Logic... had I
been thinking clearly... which it's rather evident and easy to
understand why I wasn't... given all the fantastic and incomprehensible
shit that was going on inside of there...", Gene, gesturing, in an
off-handed manner, towards the lamp that his wife still clutched,
continued in a halting fashion, "...would have told me that I was being
transformed into a wish-granting jinn of a genie.

        "However, even if I had had the presence of mind to figure out
what was happening to me... y'know, during the initial elemental
assimilation process... y'know, that up and turned me into a fully
functioning, wish-fulfilling jinn... I wasn't aware that the lamp was
also fiddle-fucking around with my sexual affiliation as well."

        "You mean...", Ann was incredulous, "...that you weren't aware
that you were being turned into a woman?"

        "No!  Not while I was in there.", Gene, gesturing toward the
lamp again.  "The first indication I had that something was amiss...
that my body had undergone a full blown... knock down... dragged out...
no holds bar transsexualization... was when I materialized... or... I
probably should have been more accurate and said... shortly
thereafter... y'know, like when I... in my  discombobulated state...
became aware that I was decked out something other than the clothes I
had been wearing... y'know, when I got sucked inside of the lamp...

        "Well anyhow, Mmmm... - Ann!  Once I realized that I wasn't
wearing what I knew I had been wearing, I did what any non-jinnified
person would have done in a similar set of circumstances!  Y'know, as in
I endeavored to see just what in the hell I was wearing!

        "Okay!  So I look down... y'know, to scope myself out... and I
find that my view is all but blocked off by these two, rather hefty,
semi-satin encased mounds of flesh... that... I couldn't help but
thinking... would have looked just dandy on another woman!

        "Then it hit me!  Those fleshy, semi-satin encased, nipple
surmounted, chest protrusions were none other than my own fleshy,
semi-satin encased, nipple surmounted chest protrusions!

        "In other words, Mmmm... - Ann... to my sheer and utter dismay,
I came to the sad and awful contemplation that I had somehow become the
other woman.  A quick, rather frenzied hand thrust to this newly
re-vamped crotch of mine, proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt."

        "Oh!,", Ann interjected with a restrained, but noticeable
inflexion of glee evident in her voice. "That explains why you were
playing that frantic game of grab-ass with yourself!"

	"Exactly!"

        "Well...", Ann countered thoughtfully.  "That's all well and
good, Gene... and I know that it had to be extremely unnerving and
unsettling to find yourself decked out in a body of the opposite sex...
but what - pray tell - does all this have to do with those
multiple-image producing seizures that I asked you about?"

	"Patience, Mmmm... - Ann!  I getting to 'em!

        Gene, continuing, "You see Ann, your summons sort of preempted
the jinnification process in... shall we say... mid stream.  Now, while
the essence unification and sexual re-classification aspects were a done
deal of a feat accompli, I had yet to be brought up to snuff of all the
'in's and out's' of this genie business.  In other words, I was still
unaware of all the particulars... y'know, like in the 'do's and don't's'
and the 'where as's and what for's'.

        "So... when you ask me a question that I don't know the answer
to, the lamp kicks in; takes me off- line - so to speak - and fills me
in on what I need to answer your question."

        "You mean...", Ann, seeking clarification, asked, "...it work's
something like a computer program that has to pause and access its' hard
drive to procure some required information?"

        "Yes, Mmmm... - Ann!  That's an apt analogy of how it works!

        "Eventually, the lamp will bring me up to snuff on everything I
need to know to function as a jinn and I won't experiences those so
called multiple-image overlay-like seizures of yours.  In fact... even
now... as we speak... I becoming privy to more and more pertinent
information.  Soon, I will be fully appraised and conditioned."

        "Does that mean that you'll soon become a whole hell of a lot
more comfortable with that new body of yours than you are now?"

        "No, Ann.  I don't believe that I will.  You see... the
magic-using artisans who prepared this lamp probably, but not
necessarily, planned on employing a female - be that female: salve,
captive or willing participant - for the human component of the jinn
equation, due to the persnickety fact that there seems to be no onboard
magical sub-routines to re-sexualize this manly mind of mine.  Now,
while it's entirely within the realm of possibility for them to have
used a man... y'know, instead of a woman... they sure as shit didn't
give a rat's ass about converting his sexual orientation to that of a
woman.  Had they employed a man, it was probably done as a form of
punishment... y'know, that would sentence the poor unfortunate bastard
to spend the rest of eternity incarcerated within a body that is in
totally and abject disharmony with his mind.   However... now that I
think about... there has to be some sort of onboard magical sub-routine
that addresses manly mannerisms; for - I do believe - I seem to have
lost all of that overtly mannish awkwardness that I initially exhibited
upon materializing in this scandalously clad and amply endowed bod of a
most bodacious body that I've been so ignominiously and underhandedly
fitted out in.

        "I mean... to my way of thinking... I seem to be a whole hell of
a lot more graceful than I was but a few short moments ago!"

        "Yes...", Ann concurred.  "I believe you're right on the money
about that, Gene.  You definitely are a whole lot more graceful than you
were at first.  Now, if you could just stop yourself from alternating
between a crass game of grab-ass and a very unlady- like pastime of
titty-tweak, I'd have to say: that you're demurrer would be about as
gracefully feminine as graceful feminine could ever hope to possible be.

	"Say...", Ann continued on.  "I've got an idea!

        "Since you say that wishing you back into former manly self
isn't a viable option... maybe... if your not averse to the idea,
Gene... I could make a wish that would - in essence - alter your mind's
sexual orientation..."

        "You mean...", Gene sought clarification. "Mmmm... - Ann!  Are
you suggesting that you could make a wish that would - in effect -
completely girlify me?"

        "Yes!  I mean... wouldn't it be easier for you if your mind was
in sexual sync with your body, Gene?"

        "Yes, Mmmm... - Ann!  It would.  But let's not be hasty!  Before
you make such a wish - Please!  I implore you!  Let's consider all the
ramifications first!

        "I mean... while I'm not exactly ecstatic about the current
situation... what with me and this new bod of body of mine... being
male... if it's only in my mind... is all that I have of my former life!
And, since it is, as crazy as it might sound, Ann, I'd kind of like to
hold onto that part of my life for as long as possible.

        "Besides...  Mmmm - Ann!  I don't think a wish like that is
going to work anyhow.  You see, though I have yet to be... shall we
say... apprised of all the myriad  details involved with that sort of
thing... it appears that while you can dicker around with my appearance
to your heart's content... deck me out in any apparel that suits you
fancy... there's seems to be a whole caboodle of constraints and
admonitions against you doing something of that nature.

        "In other words, Mmmm... - Ann... while you can... I guess you
say... optimize my appearance... as long as it remains thoroughly and
exquisitely female... as much as you want... the magic-user artisans who
preconditioned this lamp of mine... didn't want anyone fooling around
with its' baseline programing.

        "Well...", Ann began dismissive, "Maybe... if we both put our
minds to it... we can come up with something that'll help to either
eradicate or, at least ease, that sexual identity dilemma of your's,
Gene.

        "Yeah...  Maybe... ", Gene, shrugging his fully exposed
shoulders in a manner that was very reminiscent of his former manly
self, despondently replied.  "Though I'm not going to hold out any get
hope that we'll succeed.  Maybe... just maybe... you and I can come up
with something...  At least, we can try..."

        Just then, on what might be termed a subliminal level, Ann
became keenly aware of two things.  With an 'Oh, my God!' resounding in
her mind, Ann Renyolds came to the irrefutable realization that the
fully feminized, little harem-clad platinum blonde bombshell's mannerism
where - beyond the shadow of a doubt - those of her husband's.  And two,
following closely on the heels of the first: that her husband's
characteristic, though thoroughly herified mannerisms, spoke clearly to
the fact that he - as a fully embodied she - was becoming increasing
agitated.

        'Shit!', Ann thought.  'This girllie-whirllie shit is really
getting to him!  I've got to do something!  And I've to do it fast!
Else wise, he's going to blow his cool and flip-out on me!  And, I'm
afraid, that won't do either one of us any good!'

        "Gene!", Ann, endeavoring to change the direction of their
conversation and therefore get his mind off of his sexual ambiguity,
resumed brightly.  "How about we try a wish?"

        Gene, according his herified self in very genie- like manner,
folded his muscular denuded arms beneath the twins mounds of his
semi-satin showcased secondary sexual apparatus and succinctly
responded, "Yes, Mmmm... - Ann!".

        "Can we try a small wish?  Y'know, just so I can get a handle on
how this wish thing works?"

	"Yes, Mmmm... - Ann!  Your wish is my command!"

        Stumped for a moment as to what - exactly - she should wish for,
Ann aimless glanced around the kitchen, desperately searching for
something simple to wish for.  Then, as her gaze, returned to the
beguiling, though clearly distraught figure of her harem girl clad
husband, a quirky and mildly sadistic notion came upon her.

        Thinking that, 'What was good for the gander, was good for the
goose... and vice versa', and with a distinctly impish inflection
resonating clearly in her voice, Ann Renyolds began the preamble to her
first wish.

        "Those golden hued, curly toed, Persian slippers that you more
or less came pre-packaged in, Gene, are simply adorable.  And they look
to me to be quite comfortable...

        "Are they, Gene?  Are they as comfortable as they appear to be?"

        Gene, having first glanced down to check out the flat soled
slippers he - as a she - was decked out in for his herified self, stated
somewhat bemused and bewilderedly, "Yes.  Though I hadn't paid 'em any
notice before... now that you mention it, Ann... yes... they are quite
comfortable."

        "Good!", Ann continued with some humor lacing her voice, "I'm
glad to hear that, Gene."

	"Why?", Ann's comment had begged Gene's query.

        "Because... oh, husband of mine... ever since I've known you...
you've been on me to wear high heels.  Leg flattering, toe scrunching,
stiletto heeled pumps...

	"Well... now that you're a woman...

        "Ann!", Gene, barging in on his wife' unfinished statement,
pleadingly intoned.  "Ann!  You're not proposing what I think you're
proposing?"

	"I most certainly am!", Ann remained resolute.

        "For my first wish, I wish for those Persian slippers of yours
to be replaced... or changed into... or whatever you have to do... to
fit yourself out in a pair of your classic, high heeled pumps!"

        "Heel size?", though it grated on him to be forced into doing
such, Gene heard his herified self asking for his wife's clarification.

	"Hmmm... four inches - I think - should suffice."

	"Color?"

	"Gold...  Metallic gold!"

	"Open toed or closed toe?"

        "Close toed.  Y'know, the kind of pumps I'm talking about, Gene!
Y'know, the kind that you like to refer to as dick-teaser specials...
the very same kind that you like to seeing me prancing around in!"

	"Anything else?"

	"No... that should do the trick!", Ann chuckled

	"Granted."

        And it was done.  Without flash or fanfare, the Persian slippers
that Gene's feminine form was initially decked out in,  instantaneously
became a pair of shimmering metallic, golden hued, stiletto heeled, leg
enhancing, fuck-the-living-shit-out-of-me pumps, causing Gene's
elfin-like stature to gain a fully four inches of height in the process.

        "Wow!", Ann exclaimed.  "That was neat!  Really, really neat!
And you managed it without a head bob... or a nose scrunching... or a
hand flourish... or anything!

	"I'm impressed!

	"Okay!  Let's try something else!

	"Let's see...

	"Okay!  I know!

        "Gene... since both you and I prefer silver over gold, how 'bout
you change everything your wearing that's gold into silver."

	Nothing happened.

        "Gene... what's wrong?", Ann, perplexed, questioned.   "Is that
it?  Do I only get one wish and I've used that one wish of mine up
turning those Persian slippers of your's into a pair of high heeled
pumps?  I mean... I thought you said that I get as many wishes as I
want!"

        "You do, Ann.  However, you have to phrase your request in the
formalized wording of a wish."

	"Oh!  Okay!  I can do that!

        "I wish that everything that your wearing that is of a golden
cast be changed into a dazzling silver hue."

        "Granted.", Gene's honey sweet voice resonated with the
obligatory reply of a magic wielding jinn.

        And, once again, without any noticeable effort on Gene's part,
the deed was done.  Everything that Ann's jinnified husband had been so
fetchingly decked out in that was of a golden coloration, became, in the
twinkling of an instant, a most becoming and scintillating silver.

        "Yes!  I like that!", Ann commented.  "The blue and silver color
combination seems to suits you a whole lot better than the blue and gold
one did.

        "Now, what do I wish for next?", Ann mused. "World peace?  The
eradication of all diseases?  An end to poverty?"

        "Sorry, Mmmm... - Ann!", Gene's sultry voice chimed in.  "No can
do!  Your wishes cannot be of such a grandiose nature.  They can only
effect you, or in certain cases, people or things that you either
associate with or are in close proximity to...

        "For explain, while I am fully capable of changing... shall we
say... the Statue of Liberty into a small figurine... y'know, that you
could easily pick up and carry around in either your pocket or your
purse, I am not allowed to do it from here... even though I'm fully
capable of doing it from here. However, if you and I were there -
y'know, visiting the Statue of Liberty, and you... for some nonsensical
reason... made such a wish, then it would be a whole other ball game.

        "Or...", Gene continued, "Let's say that you were at some
restaurant... enjoying a really nice dinner... and that there's  this
thoroughly obnoxious fellow seated at the next table over from yours...
and he is giving everybody... including his date... a hard way to go...
creating a who lot of unnecessary tension in the process... and you up
and decided that you've had enough and that you are going to do
something somewhat Twilight Zoneish about it.

        "Okay.  Having come to a decision to do something about Mr.
Obnoxious, you summon me forth and direct me to... to... to..."

        "Turn him into a thumb sucking infant!", Ann suggested in a most
conspiratorially manner.

        "Alright!  So you make this wish that will have me turn Mr.
Obnoxious into a thumb sucking infant."

        "I can actually have you do something like that? I can actually
direct you - via a wish - to change a fully grown person into a baby?",
Ann, chuckling, sought clarification.

        "Yes.  Should you elected to have me do something of that
nature, be advised, Ann, that it is fully within the purview of my
jinnhood's operational parameters.

        "Oh!  Well... that puts this wishing business in a totally
different light!", Ann gleefully replied. "I do believe that this
wishing business might turn out to be a whole lot of fun!"

        Then, after a prolonged moment of thought filled silence, Ann
took up where she had left off.

        "Okay!  So, I can't play Little Ms. Humanitarian and right all
the wrongs of this world..."

        "No, Mmmm... - Ann!  That sort of thing isn't allowed."

        "But I can... I guess you could say... indulge myself."

        "Yes, Mmmm... - Ann!  That is what my lamp was primarily
designed for.  Self indulgence."

	"You know something, Gene?  It isn't fair!"

	"What isn't fair?"

        "That bodacious, built like a brick shithouse of a body of
yours!

        "I mean... here I've been a female all of my life and do I have
a body like that?

	"No, Gene!  I most certainly do not!

        "But I will!", Ann said coyly.  "I most surly will...

        "Gene, for my next wish, I want you to re- sculpture this body
of mine!  I want you to make it almost... but not quite... a carbon copy
of the one that the lamp fitted you out with!  I want to be just as
stunningly gorgeous as you are!  But... I want to retain... what you
might call... a semblance of my former self!

        "In other words, Gene... I want people to still be able
recognize me as Ann Renyolds!

        "Is what I'm asking possible?  Can you do something like that?"

        "Yes.  What you request, Mmmm... - Ann, is easily achieved."

        "Alright then, that is my wish!  Make me gorgeous!"

	"Granted."

        And it was.  The pert, perky and formerly handsomely pretty Ann
Renyolds became the drop dead gorgeous rendition of her former self.

        Then, unable to adequately inspect the full blown effect of the
physical enhancements that her femmified, jinnified and harem-clad
husband had dutifully wrought upon her, Ann, anxious as all get- out to
scope out her magically re-formatted self, wished for and receive a
free-standing, full length, oaken framed, dressing mirror.  Having done
so, one quick, almost frantic glance in the mirror was enough to
appraise Ann of the fact that the baggy jeans, her husband's overlarge
sweatshirt and grass stained tennis shoes that she was wearing greatly
inhibited her ability to adequately peruse and admire her newly
re-configured body.  If she was going to indulge her sense of raging and
eager curiosity, they had to go.

	"Gene!", she snapped.

	"Yes, Mmmm... - Ann!"

        "We need to do something about these clothes I'm wearing!
Y'know, so I can get a better idea of what this new body of mine looks
like!

        "So... my wish is for you to use that vivid imagination of
your's and deck me out in something that's straight out of a Fredrick's
of Hollywood's Catalog!  Something slinky!  Something sexy! Something
that's... as they say... sure to tease! Y'know, Gene... one of those
dick-teaser specials that you... when you think I'm not aware of what's
going on... like to lewd and lasciviously gawk at!"

	"Granted."

        Ann's jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers were gone, replaced by a
low cut, form fitting, endowment showcasing, wisp of a scintillating,
male libido torquing, lustrous, black hued, fellows-feast-your-
ever-lovin'-eyes-on-me, lycra/spandex, sock-it-to me, cocktail dress; a
pair of leg flattering, chocolate brown, pantyhose and a pair of your
damn near obligatory, black patent leather, stiletto heeled pumps.

        "This is terrific!  Absolutely terrific!", Ann delightfully
exclaimed as she incredulously feasted her eyes upon the mirror and the
image that was so resplendently displayed upon its' silverized surface.
"I don't know how you did it, Gene!  But you did it! And you did it
good!
  
        "I mean... I'm me!  Albeit, an extremely enhanced me!

        "I mean... there's absolutely no doubt at all about that!  And
no one who knows me is going to mistake me for anybody else but me!

        "I mean...", Ann beamed as she continued to admire her magical
made-over and decked out to the hilt self, "While I might have been
considered  a solid shoe-in for a seven... falling somewhere in between
being one of your run of the mill, Plain Jane, girl next door types and
being classified as on the lower cusp of being thought of as actually
pretty... you've gone turned me into a glamor girl to end all glamor
girls, Gene!  I mean... if I do say so myself... and I do... while this
outfit you've decked me out in is about as scandalous as scandalous can
be... making me look like some sort of high classed, Washington based
hooker... I've got to admit that I'm beautiful!  Absolutely... no holds
bar... stunningly beautiful!

        "My breast...", Ann declared gleefully, as her hands reached up
and, after a quick reassuring squeeze or two to ensure herself that they
were indeed the genuine articles and not, some sort of silicon facsimile
there of, she proceed on to cradled those magically enhanced endowments
of her's and proudly presented them for not only her own inspection, but
her jinnified husband's as well.  "Look at 'em, Gene! They're fantastic!
Not to large... yet not to small either!  I love 'em!  I absolutely love
'em!

        "I mean... all my life I've dreamed of having breast like
these..."

        "Yeah...", Gene, gravely dishearten, concurred. "I use to
fantasize about you having a set just like those as well...
Unfortunately... now that I gone and gotten myself all jinnified... I'm
sporting a pair just like 'em!"

        Ann, thinking that the best way to handle her husband's most
unfortunate and demoralizing situation was to just ignore his snide and
disparaging remarks, proceeded on to ponder her next wish.

        "Okay!  Now that we've taken care of my figure, let's tackle
this hair of mine.

        "First off, Gene... since you seem to have cornered the platinum
blonde franchise... and since I really don't want to look exactly like
you do... I wish that this mousy hair of mine was a lustrous, strawberry
blonde."

	"Granted."

        Ann's hair went from being a dirty blonde to a rich, shimmering,
strawberry blonde.

        "Okay!  That's good for starters!  Now, I wish my hair had a
whole lot more body and just a hint of curl around the edges."

	"Granted."

        Ann face was immediately framed in a most flattering,
covergirl-like cascade of the most stylish, honey golden tresses
imaginable.

        "Yes!  It's perfect!  It's almost as if you had read my mind,
Gene!"

	"To a degree, I did."

        "You can do that?  Really?  You can actually read my mind?"

        "In a sense, yes.", Gene replied matter-o'- factly.

        "Okay...", Ann countered skeptically, "If you can read my mind,
tell me!  What am I thinking about now?"

        "The impressions I get suggest that you're thinking that you're
not to keen on the notion that I can, in a manner of speaking, read your
mind...

        "Now, your thinking that you might make a wish to prevent me
from reading your mind...

	"But, you can't do that, Mmmm... - Ann."

	"And just why can't I?", Ann tersely demanded.

        "Because, I would be unable to grant such a wish."

	"How come?"

        "Because,", Gene replied, "To do so would be an encroachment on
my ability to function as a jinn and that, I'm sad to say, cannot...
nor, will not be tolerated.

        "Oh...", Ann was a little taken aback by the revelation.  "Then
do me a favor, Gene."

	"If I can... Mmmm... - Ann."

        "Even if you can read my mind and find yourself compelled to
continue to do so... please... in the future... don't tell me about.
Y'know... because... though I'd much rather that you didn't... y'know,
read my mind... I'd really rather not know about it when you do.
Alright?"

	"Yes, mistress."

        Feigning ire, Ann quipped, "Hey!  We talked about this
'mistress' crappolla before!  I want it stopped and I want it stopped
now!

        "Look!  If I have to, I'll phrase it in the form of a wish, if
that'll help!"

	"Couldn't hurt, Mmmm... - Ann."

        "Alright, then!  I wish that you would never - ever - address me
as 'mistress' again, Gene! Furthermore, I wish that you would call me
Ann... or... for that matter... anyone of those endearments that you use
to use... y'know, when you were a man!"

	"Granted."

        "Okay!", Ann was on a roll.  "While we're at it, I want to make
something perfectly clear.  Though you might have the same sort of
sexual equipment that I have now, Gene... I still consider you my
husband and myself, your wife... and that ain't going to change!

        "In fact... to insure that it won't... I going to make another
wish!

        "Ann!  I wouldn't... ", Gene, his honey sweeten voice
registering a degree of panic, endeavored to interject a note of
caution.

        But his wife, as determined as she was, was having none of it.
Nothing - not even her jinnified husband's attempted intervention - was
going to discourage her from making the wish she had in mind.

        "I wish that the vows we exchanged on our wedding day... the
ones you and I wrote together... would bind us together as a couple even
more today than they did then!  Furthermore, even if this next wish of
my mine ends up turning me into a friggin' girl-loving lesbian, I wish
for our love to be as fresh... as sincere... and  as passionate the day
we first fell in love with one another!"

	"Granted."

        And in that very same instant, Ann knew, without the shadow of a
doubt, that her wish had caused something incredible, and quit possible,
she realized just a tad bit to late, horrendous to occurred.  A lustful
and ardent desire, born out what she only later describe as a primordial
carnal craving, overwhelmed her.  She wanted to something - though she
didn't have any notion as to what that something was - to appease her
amorous, Gene-targeted, desires.  She knew, in her heart of hearts, that
she loved her femmed out to the friggin' max of a jinnified husband with
ever fiber and nuance of her being.  In every way imaginable.  Not only
did she love him - as a her - platonically, as the dearest and deepest
of truest and trusted friends, but also, in a very mind boggling, mind
blowing, convoluted and quite confusing, in not repugnant, physical
sense as well.  Furthermore, given the implicate wording of wish she had
made, Gene, she knew, loved her as much and in the same sort of
confusing and convoluted manner that she loved him.

        "Gene!", Ann, caught in throws of impassioned, love induced
bewilderment, exclaimed as she took a tentative, halting, stutter-step
toward her harem-clad femme fatale of a jinnified husband, "I think I
may have goofed big time!  I'm not sure that that last wish of mine was
such a good idea!

        "I... I... I...", she stammered, groping for a way to express,
what to her was: the inexpressible.

        "I know, honey!", Gene returned sympathetically, as he, as the
supple she that the lamp had turned him into, took a hesitant,
compassion induced step in his wife direction.  "There's no need for you
to say anything!  I fully understand!  I'm dealing with the very same
sort of emotions that you are!  And they are - to be blunt about it -
some really heavy-handed humdingers!

        "I mean... pardon my French... but I'm so friggin' horny right
now, Ann, that the only thing I can think of doing is: to rush over
there; whisk you off your feet; carry you into our bedroom and there,
after I kiss you up one side and down the other... with a little of that
middle ground, squirm and scream inducing, crevasse-crease,
tongue-tweaking, cunnilingus shit thrown in there... y'know, just for my
fun and your pleasure of it... what I'd like to do... were I still
physically equipped to do so... which... regrettable I'm not... given
the fact that I'm as much of woman as you are... is to hump that pert
and perky ass of your's off!"

        "Oh, Gene!", Ann compassionately whimpered, as she involuntary
found herself taking yet another - hesitant - fumbling stutter-step
towards the forlorn figure of her ultra feminized, amply endowed, harem
girl clad husband.

        And it was at that point that the proverbial damn broke.  One
halting, stutter-step lead to another, until they found themselves
overpowered by the crescendo of their shared and overtly frayed and
frazzled emotions.  In the heat of the moment, they found themselves
unable to do anything other than to rush madly into the consoling,
albeit chaste, embrace of one other.

        Finally, after Ann found the emotional where- with-all to
proceed, and taking the utmost care to maintain the intimacy of their
embrace, Ann dew her head and the uppermost portion of her torso back
ever so slightly, so as to affixed her emerald eyes on her husband's
sapphire orbs and, endeavoring to stifle her tearfully sniffles,
tentatively suggested, "Gene ... if ... you
... think ... it would be the best thing
... for the both of us ... were I to
.. make a wish ... that would ... in
essence ... rescind ... that ... last
... wish of mine ... I will ..."

        In a tone that, as far as Ann was concerned, seemed to hold a
slight hint of reluctance, Gene, in a very genie-like manner, replied,
"You may.. of course... elect to do such, Ann.

        "I will ... if ... that's is
... what ... you want me to do, Gene
?"

        "The decision is not mine to make, Ann.", the reluctance was
there.  Ann was sure of it.  "It's your's."

        "Bullshit!", Ann, her ire evident, countered most
uncharacteristically.  "I'll be damned if I'm going to make this
decision on my own!  I asked for your opinion, Gene!  And I going to get
it!  Even if I have to concoct some sort of wish to force you to give it
to me!

        "Alright...", the resignation registering clearly in Gene's
sultry feminine voice.  "So be it!  No wish will be necessary!  You want
my opinion!  You'll get my opinion!

        "I'm not sure what I want you to do, Ann.  Part of me... the
logical part of me... the part that drives you absolutely bonkers most
of the friggin' time... tends to believe that it would probably be
best... for the both of us... if you would just go ahead and make that
wish...

        "After all, Ann... now that you possess the lamp... what do you
need me for... other than to serve you as its' most obedient jinn.

        "I mean... one wish and you can have any man... or, as many men
as you what.  You don't need me."

        "But I want you, Gene!", Ann passionately intoned.  "I need you!
You're my husband!"

        "No, Ann!  I use to be your husband...  The lamp changed that
along with this body of mine!  Now, as loathed as I am to admit this,
I've become the jinn of the lamp... and a bodacious femme fatale of a
jinn at that.  I live only to serve my master's... or... as the fates
would have it, my mistress' every whim.
    
        "Gene!", Ann pleaded. "Don't you ever!  Ever! Say such damn fool
nonsense again!

        "As far as I'm concerned, Gene... even if the sexual aspect of
our relationship is over... you... even though your body belies the
fact... are still very much my husband!  And that's the be all and end
all of it!  Case closed!  And I don't want to ever hear you saying that
you aren't!  Alright?"

	"Yes...", Gene resignedly returned.

        "Now, Gene... out with it!  I want to know exactly how you feel
about that last wish of mine!  I want your input!  Should I make a wish
to rescind it? Amend it?  Or... should we let it stand as is and try to
make the best of it?"

        "Well... if you really... truly... want to hear what I have to
say, Ann..."

	"I most certainly do, Gene!", Ann was adamant.

        "You should know that as far as that last wish of your's is
concerned, Ann... while it seemed to focused the feelings of love I
already have for you... y'know, intensifying them to nth degree... in no
way, shape or form... where those feelings augmented or, for that
matter, increased.

        "I mean... even though you might not want to hear this, Ann...
my horniness was already in overdrive long before you ever made that
wish."

	"It was?"

	"Yes, Ann... it was."

	"How come?"

        "Well... for starters... there's this new body of mine!

        "I mean... even though it pisses me off to no end to be decked
out in it... there's another part of me - I guess you could call it the
brazen hussy/dirty old man part of me - that's turned on by it!

        "I mean... this new body of mine is so friggin' sensitive that
no matter what I do... or how I move... I end up with these - What do
you call 'em? - sexual shivers... y'know, that are doing a real number
on me!

        "I mean... though I hate to admit this... even to you, Ann... my
crotch is soaked!  I mean to tell you! I'm so friggin' horny and
turned-on that this new pussy of mine is leaking love-juices like a
sieve!"

        "And then... what do you do, Ann?  You go and command me to turn
you into a beauty queen to end all beauty queens... y'know, that's
close... but not quite... a carbon copy of my own built like a brick
shithouse of a body!  Then... to make matters worse... what do you have
me do?  You direct me to deck that seductively re-sculpture bod of a
body of yours out in an outfit that's... and I quoting you verbatim
hear... '...straight out of a Fredrick's of Hollywood's Catalog.
Something slinky.  Something sexy. Something... as they say... sure to
tease.'  In fact, Ann... if my memory serves me right... you referred to
the outfit as one of my dick-teaser specials.

        "And you know what seeing you decked-out in a sexy outfit does
to this aspiring, dirty old man's libido of mine, don't you, Ann?"

        "Yes,", Ann found herself chuckling, "I most certainly do!  It
really turns you on!"

        "Turns me on, Ann!", Gene quipped.  "Hell!  More times than not,
I end up with a friggin' hard-on!

        "Trouble is... now that I got this body... I've got no outty of
an 'on' to get hard!

        "I mean... while the mind is more than willing... it isn't that
the flesh is weak!  It's that it's totally inadequate!"

        Oh, Gene!  My poor... poor, Gene!", Ann replied sympathetically.
"As hard as this mess is for me deal with... what you must be going
through...", she tried her are darndest to commiserate, knowing that she
could never, ever begin to understand what her jinnified husband was
enduring.

        Then, completely oblivious to the repercussions of what she was
about to say, Ann, spurred on by her wealth of emphatic feelings towards
Gene's rather unsavory predicament, up and went and mis-spoke herself.
Big time.

        "I just wish... if only for a few minutes or so... that I knew
exactly what you are going through, Gene... exactly what your
feeling..."

	"Granted."

        And in that moment, Ann Renyolds was plunged head-long into the
companion Realms of Chaos and Calamity.  Instantaneously, her mind did a
sexual identity double-take, going from totally and unequivocally female
to totally and unequivocally male.  She felt a keen, unnerving and
abysmal sense of pure, unadulterated physical disharmony.  Her own body
became an enigma to her.  The very notion that she had both primary and
secondary female attributes, namely: female breast protrusions and a
woman's set of privates, repulsed her to no end, while at the very same
instant in time, titillated the living shit out her re-sexualized
libido.  In her state of sexual disorientation and abject depression,
she knew fear. She knew desperation.  She knew a convoluted sense of
self-loathing.  And yet, within that swirling whirligig of divergent and
at times, contradictory emotions, Ann - a very masculine minded Ann -
soared on a billowing sense of unrestrained exhilaration.

        Through it require every ounce of willpower that she could
muster, Ann managed, by hook or by crook, to acquire a very tentative
and extremely fragile handle on her frenzied and frazzled perceptions.
Doing so, Ann became cognizant of the fact that, as sexually
discombobulated as she was, she was not only horny as all get-out, but
that's Gene's intimate proximity to her, not to mention, the drop-dead
gorgeous, built like a brick shithouse bod of a body that he was so
beguilingly dished out in, was - 'God forbid!' - doing a real number on
that horniness of her's; driving it, by leaps and bounds, ever upwards.

        'Oh, my God!', the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.
'This is crazy!  Absolutely crazy!  I can't belive it!  I want to screw
my husband!  I want to rip that harem girl outfit off of him and ravish
him!  I want to take him - as the her that he has become - and hump the
living shit of him... or her... or whatever he's become!  Right here!
Right now! This is ludicrous!  I mean... I want to take my dick - A dick
I don't even have! - and shove it deep up inside the satinized well of
that new little pussy of his...  I want to fondle his tits!  I want to
suck 'em!  Lick 'em till he screams and squirms!  Shit!  I want to go
down on him!  Spread those lusciously formed thighs of his and eat him
out!  Take my tongue and tweak the living shit out of that little love
knob of a clit of his... till he gushes with orgasms!  One orgasm after
another...'
 
        And then, as abruptly as it had come upon her, it was over.
Ann's wish-specified 'few moments' had run their course and she
automatically reverted to her normal - thoroughly and unquestionable
female - mind set.

        "Oh, Gene!", Ann wailed, as she once again smuggled her femme
fatale of a jinnified husband into a most passionate, though thoroughly
chaste, empathic embrace.  "I had no idea!  I'm sorry!  I'm so, so
sorry!  What can I do to help to alleviate what you are going through?
Tell me!  Quickly! Then I can make into a wish and wish it away!"

        "Sorry, Ann!  No can do!  While I really, truly appreciate the
offer, you can't wish what I'm going through away.  Neither my lamp nor
this new elemental portion of my jinnified make-up will allow that sort
of tampering.  Therefore, I am left with no recourse but to endure.
Besides, Ann... as illogical as this must surly sound... especially so
since you now know the full extent of what I am going through... y'know,
with me being a girl.. who still thinks of herself as a man... who still
possess a very healthy... very active... and somewhat warped and
perverted, lewd and crude, lecherously leaning male libido... y'know,
that's ranks right up there in... what you might call... where you being
just a tad bit sarcastic... the presidential range... the plain and
simple truth of the matter is: I am still deeply... thoroughly... and
hopelessly in love with you, Ann!  And I don't want anyone - Even you! -
tampering with that!

        "And if that means that I'm going to feel the way I do now...
for the rest of eternity... as discombobulating and as disconcerting as
it is for me to endure... then, so be it!

        At a loss as to how to reply, a freely sobbing and teary eyed
Ann Renyolds, reluctantly broke the embrace the two of them had been
enfolded within. However, as she did so, she reached down with both
hands and, taking Gene's now dainty, long nailed and meticulously
manicured hands in her own, took half a step backwards, and silently
appraised her harem girl clad and ultra femininely ensconced husband.

        With a tearful sense of resignation conveyed clearly in her
speech patterns, Ann forced a little pouting, half-heart smile - a smile
she in no way felt - to brighten her countenance as she posed the almost
obligatory question, "So... where does that leaves us, Gene?"

        "Back at the question you raised about that wish of your's...
y'know, the one directly revolving around our wedding vows... and how
our vows were to bind us together as a couple even more today than they
did when you and I first exchanged them."

        "Right.", Ann concurred, before going on to say, "Well... should
I... or shouldn't?"

	"Should you or shouldn't you what, honey?"

        "Should I... or shouldn't I rescind... or... possibly... amend
that wish... y'know, given the intensity of what we're both feeling?"

        "Well...", Gene began tentatively, "You know how I feel about
it, Ann."

        "No, Gene!  I don't!  I only know part of it! The logically
part!  Before you could tell me the rest of it, we got off on a tangent
and I went and made that bonehead wish of mine... y'know, the one that
went and fitted me out with a friggin' mental penis and a over
testosteroned male libido to boot!  Or... more precisely... your mental
penis and your over testosteroned male libido !"

        As Ann's crassly sounding metaphor brought a smile to Gene's
elfin like visage, he found his herified self chuckling all through out
his reply, "Oh yeah...  That's right!   I
never did...  get a chance...  to finish...
 what I was going to say... , did I?"

	"No, dear.  You didn't."

        "Oh!  Alright then... I'll attend to that now. However, before I
do, Ann... before I forget... let me just take a quick second or so and
say something that I really believe needs to be said.  Alright?"

	"Sure, Gene.  Be my guest."

        "That last wish of your's... the one that lent you an insight
into this rather convoluted new life of mine... was a real bonehead
thing to do!  Ann!  Before you do something like that again... Please!
I implore you!  Do yourself a favor!  Engage that grey matter of your's
and think!  Remember, Ann, now that you are in possession of that lamp
of mine, your wishes have repercussions!  Alright?"

        Feeling properly admonished, Ann contritely replied, "Yes,
dear... I was wrong.  I'm sorry.  And I will make every effort not to do
something like that again."

	"Good.  Nuff said!

        "Now... as to my other feelings - the illogical ones -
concerning what you should or should not do about that wedding vow
binding wish of your's... after that other wish of your's... the ill
conceived, bonehead one... the one that had you walking a proverbial
mile in these friggin' stiletto heels of mine... y'know, the very same
heels that you very sadistically went and decked me out in... I
shouldn't have to tell you how I feel!   You should know!"

        "Yes, Gene.  You're right!  Given that unnerving, gut wrenching,
mind blowing experience that I just now went through, I should know
exactly how you feel! And, I believe I do!  However... be that as it may
be... just for my own piece of mind... just so I'm not making any
incorrect assumptions... I'd really like to it hear from your own lips.
In your own words. Alright?"

        "Yeah...  Sure...  By all means, Ann... if you think it's
necessary... I'd be more than happy to tell you the other side of how I
feel about this whole convoluted vow issue thing-of-a-ma-jig.

        "Logically... as I have already told you, Ann... I think you
should cut your losses... forget about me... and get on with your
life..."

        "Gene!", Ann, not liking any nuance of what she was hearing,
angrily and agitatedly attempted to break in on her husband and lodge
yet another complaint.

        "Wait, Ann!  I'm not finished!  Please!  I implore you!  Hear me
out!

        "Now... as to the illogical side of the issue... I'd have to
say... that when push comes to shove, Ann... no matter how much grief
it'll cause in the long run... no matter how much of a pain in the royal
tush it'll be to have to contend with... given the way I still feel
about you... given how much I still love you, Ann... rational or not...
given my druthers... I'd rather you just let things stand as they are
now!"

        "Am I hearing you right, Gene?  Are you saying that you don't
want me to rescind that wish of mine? That you want our vows to remain
intact?"

        "Yes, Ann... as selfish as it must surely sound... that's
exactly what I'm saying!  While I may have lost both my manhood and my
freedom becoming the lamp's femme fatale of a pussy equipped jinn...
there's one thing I don't want to lose and that's you, Ann!  I love you!
Always have!  Always will!  And there's no wish that you can make
that'll make this love of mine go away, Ann!  Regardless of what you
decided to do in the end, I'm stuck!  I can't change a blessed thing!
And... if I could... I wouldn't! Y'know... because... as with this manly
motivated mind of mine... my love for you is something that I cherish!

        "However... regardless of all of that, Ann... when push comes to
shove... I'm not in a position to make the decision!  You are!

        "So... what you need to do, Ann... is to put my feelings aside
and do what's best for you!  Remember, there's not a damn thing you can
do to change my feelings for you!  But, you can do something about your
feelings for me!  One wish... one little wish... and you can simply
eradicate them.  Poof!  They're gone!  And then, you can get on with
your life!

        "Hell, Ann!  Should it bother you to know that I - your pert,
perky and pretty little femmed out to the friggin' max of a jinn - used
to be your husband, guess what!  Another wish will take care of that in
one fell swoop!  You can simply erase that persnickety little fact from
your memory!  Then, Ann... once freed of that... shall we say... fly in
the old ointment... you can get on with your life!

        "And what a life it can be, Ann!  With my lamp, you can have
anything your light heart desires!  Go anywhere you want to go!  Be
anything you want to be! You can be rich!  You can be famous!"

        "Stop it, Gene!", Ann was furious.  Absolutely furious.  "Just
stop it!  I've heard enough of that rubbish to last me a friggin'
lifetime!  And I don't want to hear any more of it!  Ever!  Is that
clear? Or do I have make a wish to make it clear?  Y'know... because I
will if I have to, Gene!"

        Knowing that he - as the supple and seductive she that he had
become - had been severely castigated, Gene cut his losses and
contritely reply, "Alright, dear!  I promise, I will never - ever -
bring it up again!"

        "Good!", Ann's tone signified the fact that she was still vexed,
"See that you don't!

        "Now...", Ann, having taken a couple of deep breaths to assuage
her ire, began afresh, "As to my feelings...

        "While I fully appreciate the logical side of your arguments,
Gene... and agree that the easiest thing to do would be to go on from
here... I can't!

        "I don't know why... maybe it's my conservative Catholic
upbringing... but those vows of ours' mean something to me and I can't
bring myself to disregarding them, Gene!

	"And then there's the other thing..."

        Confused, Gene sought clarification, "What other thing, hon?"

        "Gene...", Ann, prefacing her remarks, "I know how absurd this
is going to sound... especially now with you being a girl and all... but
I still love you too!  And I'm not talking in a purely platonic way
either, Gene!  Even before I went and walked that proverbial mile in
those stiletto heeled dick-teaser specials of yours... I was... shall we
say... sexually intrigued!

        "Not horny!  Not turned-on!  But... in a kinky, kookie sort of
way, intrigued.

        "I mean... and please don't misinterpret what I'm trying to say
here, Gene!  Even though I'm still a far cry from being a full blown,
girl-loving lesbian!  I have to admit that... if I could ever get beyond
the repugnancy of the act itself... it might be a real hoot to turn the
tables on you!  I mean... there's a small part of me... a very small...
to be almost infinitesimal... part of me... that could really enjoy
giving that new little nub of a fancy of yours a proper tongue lashing
and there by, introduce you to the fascinating world of female orgasms.
I mean... if I could ever bring myself to engaging in that icky sort of
lesbian love making shit, I bet you dollars to doughnuts that I could
turn you into a first class pillow eater!  Y'know... as in: I could make
you really scream and squirm.

	"Gene...", Ann voice became thoughtful.

	"Yes, hon."

        "I'm not saying that I really want to go this route.  But...
let's say... just for the kicks and giggles of it... that someday I get
this hankering to explore the world of female homosexuality... y'know,
so that you and I can engage in some bedroom based hanky-panky...
y'know, just to see what it's like... could you turn me into a
lesbian... y'know, just for just one day... or, one night... or, for a
couple of hours or so... y'know, just to see how things go..."

        "Yes, Ann.  That is well within the realm of possibility.
Should you wish it, I could turn you into a lesbian for any length of
time you might specify.  Furthermore, once you return to being a
heterosexual again, I can make the memory of your lesbian sojourn...
shall we say... palatable.  Y'know, so it doesn't do a number on your
psyche."

	"You can do that?  You can actually do that?"

        "Yes.  Fact is, Ann: something of that nature is rather easy to
accomplish."

	"Oh!  I'm delighted to here that, Gene.

        "Maybe...", Ann proceeded thoughtfully, "Just maybe... after we
get some of these other things all sorted out... you and I are going to
have to explore that lesbian option in a little greater detail, Gene.

        "I mean... if you can arrange it so that I can... shall we
say... opt in and out of a homosexual mind- set and not suffer any
negative mental repercussions... you know something, Gene!  I might just
have to stow these repugnant feelings of mine and take you up on it!

        "I mean... if I could become... shall we say... a part time
lesbian... y'know, so that you and I could get it on every now and
again... it sure as hell would help the two of us manage our future life
together!"

        "Yes, Ann.  It most certainly would.", Gene commented
thoughtfully.

        "However... though I'm really intrigued by the idea you've
presented, Gene... given the fact that I don't really relish the idea of
bidding the sexual side of our relationship a fond adieu... I'm going to
have to think long and hard on the whole notion. Y'know, because
becoming a lesbian... even if it's only on part time bases... still
gives me the friggin' heebie-jeebies, Gene!"

        "Ann!", Gene intruded on Ann's musings, "Please! Feel free to
correct me if I'm wrong... but are you saying what I think you're
saying?

        "I mean... from what I gather out of all this lesbian talk of
yours' is:  that you don't want to do anything about rescinding that
wedding vow wish of yours'?  That you want to let it stands as it is...
even though... to my way of thinking... it seems to be doing a real
number on you?"

        "Yes, Gene...", Ann, having reached the same conclusion much
earlier in their on going discussion, "I guess that I am."

        "Perhaps... if you are amiable, I could offer a small suggestion
that might help us both deal with the repercussions of that wedding vow
wish of your's, Ann."

	"Okay!  Sure, Gene!  What's your suggestion?"

        "That you amend that wish of your's slightly. That you make a
wish to tone the intensity of it down just a smidgen or so."

        "And how do you suggest I go about doing that, Gene?"

        "Well... you could make a wish that would grant both you and I
the necessary will power to ride rough shod of over our wish engendered
passions."

	"I can do that?"  I can make such a wish?"

        "Yes, dear.", Gene, in his honey sweetened voice, replied
matter-oh-factly. "You most certainly can."

	"And it'll affect both us?", Ann inquired.

        Gene, though he rarely if ever out and out fibbed to his wife
about anything, made an exception; knowing that if he - as a blonde
bombshell of a female jinn - didn't, then Ann wouldn't make the wish and
would therefore, continue to endure the intensity of her unfulfilled
passions, the way he - as a she - was doomed to do.

	"Yes, hon... it will."

        "Alright then... I wish that we both had the mental
where-with-all to be able to manage the surging passions and desires
that my former wish engendered."

	"Granted."

        Although the she still harbored the pressing need to do
'something' to appease that confusing and convoluted - Gene-targeted -
primordial carnal craving of her's, Ann found that she now possessed
more than enough will power to ride rough shod over it.  Her amorous and
ardent desires, while still firmly entrenched, had become, in the
flickering of an instant, manageable.  Her compulsions to do some sort
of mind boggling and elusive 'something' - though she was still at a
totally loss as to know what - exactly - that mind boggling and elusive
'something' was, though still very much in evidence, no longer
threatened to overwhelmed her.  She, and not the chaotic state of her
frazzled emotions, were in control.  However, Ann was also keenly aware
of the fact, that should she consciously elected to do so, she could, on
a whim, unshackle those amorous - Gene- targeted - emotions and
compulsions of hers and allow them the free reign to indulge their lewd,
crude and wantonly lascivious ways.
	  
        "Wow!", Ann exclaimed gleefully.  "That seemed to have done the
trick!

        "Things are... I guess you could say... a whole hell of a lot
more manageable."

        "I mean... while the bond of love between us still seems to
have... what I would call... any almost tangible feel to it... the
physical impetus I was feeling... y'know, the one that actually had me
seriously contemplating that lesbian option of your's... though still in
very much in evidence... isn't threatening to rear its' ugly little head
and overwhelm my sensibilities.  Y'know, like it was!

        "I mean... regardless of your present state... both as a genie
and a stacked and packed blonde bombshell of a most bodaciously and
beguilingly built dick teaser... there's no denying the fact that I am
still deeply, hopeless and passionately in love with you, Gene!

        "However... I don't feel the urgent... or... shall we say... the
pressing need to indulge those passions of mine in a physical way...
even though there is still a part of me... a very small and impishly
sadistic part of me... that would - if I could ever get up the gumption
- like to tickle the hell out of that new little fancy of your's, Gene!

        "I mean... as perverse at it must surely sound... it would... if
I could ever get past these revulsions of mine... give me the
greatest... and perhaps, perverted pleasure... to be able to do unto you
as you have... on so many occasions... done unto me.

        "Oh!", Ann, realizing that she had yet to hear how her jinnified
husband had faired as a result of that last wish of her's, apologized.
"I'm sorry, Gene! I've been running my mouth again!  Tell me: have you
gotten any relief at all?  Did that last wish of mine work for you like
it did for me?  Has that raging horniness of your's subsided any?  Or,
is that mental penis of your's still doing a number on you?"

        Knowing that the truth wouldn't sit well with his mistress-wife,
Gene, though he hated his herified self for doing so, lied that pert,
perky and provocative tush of his girlified form off, "Yes.  It's a
whole lot better now."

        "You mean...", Ann teased, "you don't want to have your way with
me anymore, young lady?"

        "Well...", Gene teased back, "I wouldn't necessarily go that
far...  After all, Ann... while I might be lacking a wee bit of my
former sexual equipment... specifically, that old trusty pecker of
mine... I've still got what it takes to bring home the proverbial
bacon!"

        "You do, do ya!", Ann humorously retorted. "Okay!  I'll bite,
little lady!  Since I haven't the foggiest notion as to what you are
talking about, Gene... why don't you just cut to the chase and clue me
in on just what in the hell you're talking about!"

        Complying, Gene mischievously flashed his mistress-wife a
wickedly engaging smile and dutifully proceed on to expose the very tip
of his newly herified tongue.  Then, once that herified tongue of his
was once again nestled behind those seductive puckered lips of his
spectacularly feminized visage, Gene flippantly quipped, "While it might
be a whole hell of a lot smaller than it use to be... its' still nimble
and in a pinch... it should be more than sufficient to engender at least
an orgasm or two!"

        "Hmm...", Ann countered, playing along with her husband jest.
"Maybe... if you're a good little genie... and dutifully great me all my
wishes... I might just find it in my heart of hearts to take you up on
the offer...

        "Gene...", Ann, continuing in a more thoughtful manner, "Tell me
something...  Am I correct in assuming that... should I elected to do
so... I can have you undo any or all of my previous wishes... y'know, by
just making another wish to... I guess you could say... nullify 'em?"

        "Yes, dear... that is a correct assumption.", Gene succinctly
responded.

        "Well then... oh, husband of mine... tell me something else!
Can I make a wish that cannot be undone?"

        "Yes...", Gene answered tentatively.  "You do have that option.
However Ann, I cannot conceive of a situation were you might want to
make such a binding wish."

        "Well, I can!", Ann proclaimed in a most demonstrative manner.

        "Ann!  Please!  I beseech you!", Gene alarmingly implored.
"Don't be hasty!  Don't go off half-cocked and do something rash...
something that you might possible regret doing later!"

        "Hasty!  Smasty!  Look, Little Miss No-cock-at- all!  Once I
finished refining this rather convoluted relationship of ours... and
everything's as hunky-dory as I can possible make it... y'know, given
the extraordinary circumstances we find ourselves embroiled within... I
don't want anyone - Not even me! - dickering around with it!

        "Look, Gene!  If anybody knows how that persnickety law of Mr.
Murphy's tends to work... the two of us most certainly do!

        "I mean... take today for example!  Here, we come into the
possession of a magic, wish-granting lamp and look what happens!  You
get co-opted into becoming its' femmed out to the friggin' max of a
genie!

        "And if that isn't Murphy's Law in action... then, I don't what
in the hell is!"

        "Hell, Gene... by all rights, this should be one of the happiest
day of our lives!

	"But, is it?

        "No!  It most certainly is not!", Ann sarcastically quipped; in
essence, providing an answer for her own question.

        "I mean... as far as I'm concerned... I wish we never went to
that flea market this morning!  That I never  ever saw the lamp!  And
more to the point, that I never felt the desire to purchased it!"

	Nothing happened.

        "What's the matter, Gene?  Can't you handle that one?"

        "'Fraid not, hon.  Since I'm not allowed to fiddlefuck around
with the space-time continuum... even though I do possess that
capability... I am restrained from processing that last wish of your's.
What's done is done.  And as sorry as I am to say this, dear: it can't
be undone."

        Ann, who hand a good deal of first hand knowledge concerning how
Mr. Murphy's Law tended to work, kind of figured on that sort of
response, and so, resignedly quipped, "Farzenfarts!".

        "But anyhow... getting back to what I was saying... since we're
more or less stuck smack, dab in the middle of this friggin' mell of a
hess of our's... I want to safeguard this convoluted relationship our's.
I want to insure that a slip of the tongue on my part doesn't go and
screw it up.

        "I mean... though I can't envision this ever happening... let's
say - for instance - that you and I end up getting embroiled in a real
knock-down, dragged-out, no holds bar argument over some sort of silly,
inconsequential nonsense and I up blowing my cool and making some
asinine wish that... in effect... completely subverts you to my will."

        "Ann...", Gene interjected.  "In case you haven't noticed...
given this jinnified condition of mine... I'm already completely
subservient to you will."

        "Yes!", Ann snapped.  "I'm aware of that!  But, I fully intend
on changing that aspect of our relationship!

        "Tell you what, Gene!  Why don't we address that issue... right
here!  Right now!

	"Gene!"

	"Yes, dear."

        "Can I make a wish that... for a lack of a better way to put
this... incorporates several different stipulations?"  Or, do I have to
make a whole lot of single issue wishes in order to achieve what I want
to achieve?"

        "It's your option, Ann.  You can do it anyway you'd like."

	"That's good.  I'm glad to hear that.

        "Okay then, Gene.  This next wish of mine will be of the
multi-faceted variety.  Alright?"

	"Sure, Ann.  Shoot!"

        "I wish for us to be on... I guess you could say... an equal
footing.  I want us to revert back to being partners in this ongoing,
albeit, convoluted husband-wife relationship of ours... y'know, with
equal influence... equal input.  I do not what you to be subservient to
me in any way, shape or form; save on matters that directly influence
either one or both of our appearances.  I mean... I kind of like the
notion that I can dickering around with not only how I look... but, more
to the point... how you look... how you are dressed... and I think... at
least for the time being, Gene... I'd like to reserve the right to
continue to do so for my own... without either your input or your
approval required.   In other words, my dearest darling blonde bombshell
of a husband, if I want you prancing around the house in something... I
guess you could say... suggestive... y'know, something on the order of
that rather sultry maid's outfit... y'know, the very same maid's outfit
that I was going to wear for you this evening... and... shall we say...
a pair of sexy spiked heels... guess what!  You will! And furthermore...
if I want you to look like you're as happy as a pig in shit to be doing
so - guess what, my darling dearest - you will be!

	"Alright?"

        "Yes, dear.", Gene, demurely and resignedly made the obligatory
reply.

        "However, on a matters that do not directly related to how
either you and I look... or the clothing that we might be wearing... I
wish that before any future wish of mine is implemented... it must be...
I guess you could say... rubber stamped... or... perhaps... seconded by
you.  Also, since we're going to be partners in this re-defined
relationship of ours, Gene... I want you have every right to make
suggestions and offer comments concerning what we may or may not wish
for.

	"Okay?  I mean... am I making myself clear?"

	"Yes, Ann.  As clear as a bell."

        "Also... now that I've had a moment or so to think about it... I
think I'd like to retain autonomous control over any and all wishes that
clearly pertain to my own self.  For example: that lesbian option of
your's, Gene.  If I ever do get up the gumption to give female
homosexuality a trial run, I'd like to be able to do it for myself.  In
other words, little lady, I don't want to have obtain either your
blessings or approval in order to do something of that nature.
Alright?"

        "Yes.", Gene replied evenly.  Is there anything else you'd like
to add before I implement it, Ann?"

	"Can't think of anything... can you?"

        "No...", Gene mused thoughtful, "I think you've pretty much
covered all the bases.  However, Ann... just to be on the safe side...
let's see if I've got it right.

        "First off, you want the two of us to be on an equal husband and
wife like footing; in effect, emancipating me from my lamp imposed
subservient role, save in matters that directly relate to our outward
appearances.  When it comes to how we look... how we are attired... you
reserve the autonomous right to make all the decisions.  In other words,
Ann... what you're basically saying is: your going to be both my beauty
consultant and my haberdasher and I'm going to be your real-live...
walking... talking... dick-teaser special attired Barbie Doll... who's
going to have to lump it... y'know, like whenever I'm not... I think
it's safe to say... exactly thrilled... or should that be - overjoyed -
with whatever outfit you've cooked up for this new and amply endowed
body of mine to be decked out in!"

        "So far so good, Gene.  And guess what!  You're right on the
money when it comes to that dick-teaser special remark of your's!
Besides... now that you've been fitted out with that simply scrumptious,
blonde bombshell of a body of yours... you've got to admit that you've
got two rather hefty and conical lumps to lump it with!"

        "Yeah... so I've noticed.", Gene, who, spurred on by Ann's gibe,
was once again scooping out the aforementioned female attributes for his
own ultra herified self, replied with as much gruffness and
consternation as he - as a she - could muster.

        'Shit!', Ann mentally chided herself as she observed her
husband, for the umpteenth time since becoming the lamp's harem clad
jinn of a female genie, reach up, cradle his newly installed mammary
protrusions and proceed on to crassly fondle the living shit  out of
'em.  'What in the hell was I thinking when I made that off-hand remark
about how he now had two rather ample and conical lumps to lump it with!
Wouldn't you just know it!  Now that I've gone and brought them to his
attention, he's going to start playing yet another vulgar and disgusting
game of titty-tweak with himself!  Boy, did I goof!  Big F'in Time!'

        "Gene...  Gene...', Ann prompted in an all out effort to regain
and refocus her husband attention. "You were saying..."

        "Oh!  That's right!", Gene,  acting in a manner that was, to
Ann' way of thinking, very reminiscent of your classic mischievous child
caught with his hands in the off-limits cookie jar scenario,
discombobulatedly replied, as he - as the stunning she that he had
become - quickly and guiltily yanked his delicately feminized hands out
from under the lower arch of his newly enhanced chest mounds.  Then, in
an all out effort to gloss over the fact that he - as a she - had been
caught - as they say - red-handed, playing a rather sleazy game of
titty-tweak with his herified self, Gene, opted to forego the lame
excuses tendering option,  figuring - quite correctly - that his wife
would take his sexually induced dilemma into account, and so, elected to
just forge ahead, "Okay! Let's see...  Where was I when we got off on
that tangent of our's and started talking about these new and rather
pronounced boobies of mine?

        "Oh, I know!  I was reviewing the various stipulations involved
in this multi-faceted wish of your's, Ann!

        "Let's see... I know without the shadow of a doubt that I
touched upon the equal footing business. Then... after I took care of
that one... if this newly installed, elemental enhanced, bear-trap like
memory of mine serves me correctly... which... I assure you, dear... it
does... I do believe that I also hit the highlights of that appearance
and clothing codicil of your's... y'know, the one that will... for all
intent and purposes...  Barbie Dollify me!

        "Okay!  So that brings us to that next stipulation of your's,
dear... the one that grants you autonomous control over any and all
changes that you might like to make with respect to your own self.

        "I mean... does that more or less sum up all the little nuances
of the wish that you'd like to make, Ann?"

        Taking a second or so to run them over in her own mind first,
Ann replied, "Yes... I believe it does."

        "Alright then... if you think you've covered all the bases,
Ann... the only thing left for you to do is to direct me to implement
'em."

        "Consider yourself so directed... oh, harem girl clad husband of
mine!"

        "Your wish has been dutifully granted.", Gene returned evenly.

	"It has?"

	"Yes, dear.  It has."

        "Strange...", Ann mused.  "I don't feel any different."

	"But I do, Ann."

	"You do?"

	"Yes.  I do.

        "For the first time since becoming the jinn of the lamp, I
feel... I guess you could say... unburdened... or... in a sense
liberated.

        "I mean... it's kind of hard for me to even begin to put into
words the changes that that wish of your's brought about... but I can
tell you... it feels good! Really, really good!  Y'know, even
considering the ignominious fact that I'm still a frickin' girl!

        "I mean... you can't begin to imagine what it's like to know
that you're complete subservient to another's whims!  I mean... before
you went and made that last wish of your's, Ann, I was your slave!
Granted, I was a drop-dead gorgeous, magic wielding slave, but a slave
none the less!  I had no say in this newly imposed life of mine
what-so-ever!  Just knowing that I could be coerced... via a wish...
into do damn near anything... and I do mean 'anything', dear... really
did a number on this male oriented psyche of mine!  I mean... in no
uncertain terms, Ann... it rankled the living shit out of me!  Had you
directed me to bark like a dog... guess what!  I'd been barking up a
storm!   Had you wanted me to kiss your ass!  I would have had no choice
in the matter! In other words, Ann... I'd bit the proverbial bullet,
puckered up and planted a great big lip-lock of a smoocher on that
rather delightful and titillating tush of your's!  And, had you told me
to go fuck myself... as abhorrent as it would be for me to engage in
something as repugnant as that would be... I would have been compelled
to obey!"

        "Now, wait just one ding dong minute, little lady!", Ann
bombastically interrupted.  "Just how in hell could you manage to do
something as absurd as that, Gene?"

	"You mean... such as go fuck myself?"

        "Yes!", Ann, though thoroughly repulsed by the whole notion of
what her femmified husband had referred to, she found that she was also
extremely curious as to just how he - as a she - would have accomplished
such a crassly couched directive.

        "How could you anatomically manage to do something as crass as
that to yourself?"

        "Easily!  Were I coerced by a wish to engage in an act of
sexual, self penetration I would simply turn one or another of my hands
into a fully functional set of male genitalia and proceed to thrust the
blood infused shaft of the penis portion of that genitalia up inside
this newly installed vagina of mine."

        Horrified with the imagery that assaulted her, Ann frantically
demanded, "You can actually do something like that?  You can actually
change one of your hands into a man's 'thing'?"

        "Yes.", Gene replied a little to matter-of-factly to suit his
wife's sense of propriety and proper decorum.  "Fact is, Ann: something
of that nature is rather easy to accomplish when you're wielding the
almost unlimited powers of a jinn.

        "See!", Gene said, as he, to Ann horror, demonstrated that he -
as the jinnified femme fatale that he had so recently become - was fully
capable of accomplishing the deed.

        "Gene!", Ann, revolted to the depth and breadth of her being,
frantically implored.  "That's disgusting!  Absolutely disgusting!
Please!  Get rid of it!  Please!  Oh, Please!  I implore you!  Turn
that... that... that... that despicable 'thing'... back into your hand!"

        Gene, seeing how upset Ann was quickly becoming, prudently did
as requested.

        Then, having done so, Gene, while he - as she - was standing
there, staring down at his re-normalized hand, thoughtfully mused aloud,
"Now that's something..."

        Ann, in a clearly peeved tone of voice, challenged, "You mean...
being able to turning your hand into a friggin' penis!?"

        "No.", Gene dreamily replied.  "I not referring to the act
itself... nor, am I referring to my innate ability to actually
accomplish such a deed... rather, I'm referring to the strange set of
circumstances that allowed me the leeway to do something like that on my
own... y'know, and not on the direction of someone else."

        "You see, hon... before you made that last wish of your's... I
couldn't have gone and done something like that on my own!  Now, I can!
And that Ann, is the whole difference I was referring to before in a
friggin' nutshell!  That wish of your's... for a lack of a better way to
put this... has... in effect... emancipated me from the constraints that
that lamp of mine had imposed on me!  Save for those stipulations of
your's... y'know, the ones that gives you say over how I look and how I
dress... for all intent and purposes, you've done a most wonderful and
gracious thing!  You've liberated me!  Y'know... like you've gone and
given me back the ability to exercise my free will!"

        Ann, who's was body was still being racked by the icky feeling,
goose-bump producing, cold shivers of repugnancy, somewhat annoyingly
and halfheartedly replied, "That's nice, Gene...  I very happy and
delighted that you've gotten that free will of your's back...  But let
me tell you something!  Don't you ever!  Ever!  Do something like that
again!   I mean... it was absolutely disgusting standing here, watching
that hand of your's undergo that penis-
transformation-thing-of-a-ma-jig!  I mean... the very thought of you
doing something like that... shoving that... that... that... despicable
'thing' of your's... up inside yourself... is so frickin' abhorrent to
me that my stomach is actually in an uproar... doing one friggin' flip
flop after another!"

        "Sorry 'bout that, dear.  Please, accept my sincere apology.  I
just wasn't aware that that demonstration of mine was going to go and
upset you so.  Had I known... believe me... I never would have done it."

        "Apology accepted, Gene.  However...", Ann continued on in a
most thoughtful manner, "I was wondering...  How could you manage to do
something like that?  I mean... did I or did not specify that I was to
retain autonomous control of your appearance?"

	"Yes, Ann.  You most certainly did."

        "Well... if that's so, Gene... weren't you more or less
precluded from doing what you just went and did?"

        "No... not really, honey.  Now... had it been... shall we say...
a permanent change... that would have been a whole other ball game.
Then, that autonomous stipulation of your's would have most assuredly
come into play and I wouldn't have been able to do what I did.
However... and this is where the restoration of my free will enters into
the picture... I knew that I was merely demonstrating that... as a magic
wielding jinn... I possess the necessary metaphysical where- with-all to
accomplish the aforementioned vulgar and obscene act of... what one
might call... where one to it... self-contained copulation.

        "In other words, Ann... since I knew that the change I was
making was only a temporary one and not a permanent one... I was not
constrained from doing what I did."

        "Oh!", Ann responded.  "You mean to tell me that... should I
choose to do so... which I most certainly do not... I could actually
direct you to turn one of your hands into a fully functioning set of
male genitalia?"

        "No, Ann!  The lamp will not allow me to process such a wish."

	"How come?"

        "Remember, Ann!  While you can radically change my outward
appearance... shrink me down to Barbie Doll size or... should you
elected to do so... turn me into some gargantuan, Godzillia-like lesbo
dyke freak... y'know, that dwarfs the friggin' Statue of Liberty...
there's a couple of things that my lamp's not going to allow you to
fiddle-fuck around with!  First off... there's this new found femininity
of mine!  My lamp's not about to let you... or for that matter... anyone
else dicker around with that!  And two... while you can tinker around
with the way I look to your heart's content... you cannot... I think
it's fair to say... do anything that would either detract from... or
diminish the overall appearance of this physical feminine package that I
am so ingloriously and ignominiously decked out in!

        "In other words, Ann... the way they - whomever in hell they
were - got this jinnification of mine rigid... come hell or high
water... I going to remain balls to the walls beautiful!"

        "Alright then...", Ann returned tentatively, "Given the fact
that I have no intention of ever asking you to do something like that
again... y'know, given how much it revolts me... let me ask you another
question?"

	"Sure, Ann.  Ask away!"

        "Can you... for demonstration purposes only... turn that vagina
of your's into a penis and testicles?"

        "Sorry, Ann!  No can do!  As much as I'd like to oblige you, I'm
sorry to say that: that particular part of my anatomy has to remain
functionally female at all times."

        "Alright then... since we can't do anything about that pussy of
your's, Gene... is there any prohibition about dickering around with
mine?"

        "Not that I'm aware of, Ann.  As far as I know, you can...
should you ever elect to do so... direct me to change any... or, for
that matter... all of your body into that of a fully functioning male's
anatomy."

        "Now that's something else to consider...", Ann replied
impishly.

	"Ann!"

	"Yes, Gene?"

        "You're not thinking what I think you're thinking?"

        "Perhaps... I am.", Ann, somewhat sadistically, teased.

        "Ann!", Gene's honey sweetened voice, registering a degree of
both panic and protest, countered.

        "I mean... since we can't do anything about that new little
pussy of your's... oh, husband of mine... and since we... or more
precisely... I can do something about mine...", Ann left the thought
unfinished.

	"Ann!  You wouldn't!  You couldn't!"

	"Oh, wouldn't I!

        "Look... my femmed out to the friggin' max of a husband... ",
Ann said as she walked over and placed a consoling arm around her
husband's bare shoulders. "If we're going to salvage the sexual side of
our relationship... I'm not going to pooh-pooh any option out of hand!

        "Besides... now that I had a moment or so to think about it...
it might be fun to have my way with you, young lady... y'know,
considering the fact that I've never - ever - had a virgin before.

	"Ann!  Please!", Gene passionately implored.

        "What's wrong, dear?  Afraid to have that newly installed cheery
of your's popped?"

        Gene, confused and, to a degree, horrified, hesitantly and
haltingly replied, "Yes!  No!  I don't know!  It's just..."

	"Just what, Gene?", Ann jokingly taunted.

        "It's just that I'm not use to the idea that I'm a girl and all
yet, Ann!

        "I mean... while this glamor girl physique of mine belies the
fact, I still tend to think of myself as a man!  And because I do, this
sexual role-reversal notion of your's isn't exactly an easy thing for me
to swallow!"

        "Gene!  Gene!", Ann scoffed good-naturedly. "Don't go getting
those new and rather generous tits of your's in an uproar!  We've got a
long... long... long way to go before we even entertain the notion of
tackling the oral sex issue!  If... that is... we ever do!  I  mean... I
can't even begin to tell you how long it took for me to get up the
gumption to go down on you... so don't worry your pretty little head
over something we may never get around to experimenting with in the
first friggin' place, Gene!  I mean... if we ever do opt to give this
male/female sexual role- reversal option of mine a go... we're going to
go slow... take it one itsy-bitsy, teeny weeny step at a time... and
then... and only then... if you ever do reach a point where you feel
that you might be able to stomach it... we might... and the key word
here is 'might'... give the oral sex business a try.

        "Besides, Gene... I would never expect you to do something that
I wouldn't do!  And you know fully well... while I might go down on
you... y'know, because I know how much you enjoy it when I do so... you
know as well as I do... I don't want you coming in my mouth!  And
because of that... shall we say... cogent point... if... and I know it's
a big and highly unlikely 'if'... we ever do get to that point...
y'know, should we ever go the sexual role-reversal route... I promise
that we'll only take the oral sex business as far as you want to go with
it!  Alright?"

        Not the least little bit happy with the prospect of what his
wife was suggesting, Gene reluctantly replied, "Yeah... sure...  I guess
I can live with that..."

        Then, having said that, Gene, in an effort to shrug off the
doldrums he was felling, sarcastically added, "However, Ann... if we
ever do give this sexual role-reversal option of your's a go... and you
get to have your way with me... the question then becomes: will you
still respect me in the morning?"

        That remake got Ann to chuckling.  And Ann's unfettered
chuckling, in turn, engendered Gene's giggling.  And Gene's inane
attempt to stifle his giggling, transformed Ann's chuckling into the
belly jarring guffaws of outrageous and unrestrained laughter.  And
Ann's boisterous chortling, as engaging as it was, in short order had
Gene hee-hawing and cackling right along with her.


* * *


        After their laughing jag had run its' course and the two of them
had finally managed to regained at least a modicum of their former
composure, acting on Ann's suggestion, they relocated; moving from the
kitchen and out into the living room.  There, seated across the coffee
table from one another, Gene, having removed the silver, stiletto heeled
pumps that he - as a she - had been wearing in order to allow his
herified self the ability to assume a crossed legged, Indian-like
sitting position, returned to the matter at hand, saying: "You know,
Ann... I been giving this irrevocable wish notion of your's some serious
thought and I don't think that it's either a good idea or... for that
matter... necessary."

        Ann, having first taken a small sip of the champagne that her
harem girl clad husband had graciously and magically procured for the
both of them to wet their rather parched whistles on, questioned, "And
just why don't you think it's a good idea, Gene?"

        "Well... for starters, hon... let me first make sure that my
assumption is  correct and that the real reason you came up with this
irrevocable wish notion of your's in the first place was because you
were afraid that you might one day get upset with me and, without
thinking of the repercussions of what you were doing, end up saying
something rash that would - in effect - undo everything you've gone and
done to insure that this relationship of ours' remains intact?"

        "Yes, Gene... that pretty much sums it up. Basically, I'm afraid
that I might fly off the handle and screw things up royally."

        "First off, Ann... I'm the one that flys off the friggin'
handle!  Not you!  When you do get mad, Ann... you get stubborn and
unreasonable.  I mean... come on!  Admit it!  Of the two of us... you
handle your anger a whole hell of a lot better than I do.

        "So... I guess what I'm saying is: the chances of you getting
really pissed-off at me and mis-speaking yourself is practically nil.
Y'know, because something like that is completely out of character for
you.

        "I mean... while I'll freely admit that it's something that I
could do... especially when I get to feeling like I've been backed into
an emotional corner... when it comes to you, Ann... I really don't think
we would have had anything to worry about.

        "Secondly... while you could have gone and upset the proverbial
apple cart before... y'know, before you up and made that wish of your's
that - for all intent and purposes - granted me equal status in this
rather discombobulated, re-defined relationship of ours'... save when it
comes to my appearance and the articles of clothing that I'm going to be
decked out in... you can't do something like that now.  Now... before
you can wish for anything... in most instances... you've got to get my
approval.

        "That means... you've more or less established... for lack of a
better way to put this... a fail safe system.... y'know, that's more or
less analogous to the double key enabling system they use to safe guard
against the possibility of an unauthorized, rogue ballistic missile
launch."

        "And furthermore... even if we didn't have the checks and
balances in place... y'know, that grants me the where-with-all to
preclude you from doing something that's both stupid and rash... were
you still capable of doing something like that... y'know, on your own...
and you really went and screwed things up... it wouldn't be the end of
the world!

        "I mean... given that I am a jinn now... as long as it wasn't an
irrevocable, eternally binding wish - Guess what, hon! - as long as you
retain possession of my lamp, you have the necessary where-with-all to
put poor old Humpty-Dumpty back together again!

        "In other words, Ann... as long as we don't elected to employ
the irrevocable option in any future wish of ours'... anything that we
do... we can undo... and vice versa.

        "So... all I'm saying is... when you take all of that into
account... I can't conceive of a situation where the irrevocable option
gains us anything.

        "I mean... once we would incorporate one into a wish of ours'...
we're stuck with the results. There's no going back and re-doing 'em!

        "So... before we go and do something we could both end up
regretting... how about we just let sleeping dogs lie, Ann... and just
forget about ever incorporating the irrevocable option in one of our
wishes.  Alright?"

        "Well...", Ann began.  "When you put it like that... all logical
and all... I have to concede that you've got a point there, Gene.
Though it sure seemed like the way to go when I first came up with it...
now that shown me the error of my ways... I do believe that you're
right!  And I whole heartedly agree.  We shouldn't dicker around with
that irrevocable option."

        "I both gladdened and relieved that you agree with me, Ann!  I
mean to tell you!  When you first made mention of going that route...
though I doubt that you were aware of it... you gave we a bad case of
the heebie-jeebies.

        "I mean... you came within a hair's breath of scaring the living
shit out of me!"

        "Sorry, Gene!  I never meant to!", Ann was quick to reply.

        "I know, honey.  I know you were just trying to make the best
out of a bad... if not disastrous situation.

        Then, though completely oblivious to the fact that he - as a
newly ensconced she - was once again doing so, Gene tenderly, if not
both tentatively and a tad bit teasingly, began to draw the long nailed
and well manicured middle finger of his right hand up along the central
swath of his re-configured loins, in affect, shamelessly groping his
herified self for the umpteenth time since being regurgitated from out
of the lamp's innards as a harem girl clad femme fatale of an elemental
enhanced wish granting jinn.

        Completely unaware of the fact that he was playing yet another
crass game of twat-tweaking with his herified self, Gene, proceeded on
to inquire, "Alright, Ann.  Now that we've addressed this re- defined...
if not perverted and sexually dysfunctional relationship of ours... plus
all of that other stuff that we've been dickering around with, dear...
y'know, when you're not sadistically toying around with the notion of
having me fit you out with a fully functional set of male genitalia so
that you can... I guess you could say... deflower me...  now that you
can have anything... or... shall we say... darn near anything... y'know,
that your little heart desires - pray tell, dear - what would you like
to wish for now?"

        "Well...", Ann began thoughtfully, "Now that we're out one
income... given the fact that you certainly can't go in to work come
Monday morning with that brand spanking new built like a brick shithouse
of a body of your's, Gene... y'know, because nobody's going to be
gullible enough to buy into the fact that you're still you... y'know, on
the inside... where it counts... and since it's more or less a given
that if you're not going to have to go into work any more... y'know,
what with you and your being a genie and all... you can bet that pert
and perky re-vamped tush of your's that I'm not going to go into my work
either!  So... given all of that... now that we're going to be out both
of our incomes... I guess that the next wish we should make... will...
out of necessity... have something or other to do with the financial
dilemma that your becoming a genie has potentially threatened to immerse
the two of us in."

        "Too true, dear.", Gene readily agreed.  "I've been thinking
along the very same lines that you have. And I believe I have come up
with the solution."

        "Can't we just make a wish that would make us rich, Gene?"

	"Yes... we could do that, honey.

        "I mean.. should we elected to do so... I could simple fill this
house of ours with stacks and stacks of freshly minted one hundred
dollar bills!

        "However... should we opt to go that route, Ann... they could be
all sorts of unintended consequences... y'know, that could - in effect -
ties us up in bureaucratic knots... endeavoring - ad nauseam - to
explain how we - all of a sudden - came into such wealth in the first
friggin' place.

        "But can't you twang that magic twanger of your's... or do
whatever you have to do as a genie to... I guess you could say... take
care of that sort of bureaucratic nonsense up front, Gene?"

        "No... not really, dear...  While it sure would be nice if I
could... you have to understand the fact that while I'm good... damn
good... y'know, given all these supercalafragicexpealidicious
metaphysical enhancements of mine... I'm far cry from being anywhere
close to being omnipotent!

        "In other words, dear... while I can cover a lot of the bases...
maybe, even most of 'em... give the tenacious way that Mr. Murphy's Law
tends to work... at least as far as you and I are concerned... you can
bet this pert and perky new tush of mine that there's no way in hell
that I'm going to be able to cover them all!

        "Now... while it's true that I can probably deal with the
unintended consequences when they rear their ugly and persnickety little
heads... if we do this thing right from the get-go... I do believe that
we might be able to avoid all the hassles and pitfalls that might crop
up... y'know, like down the road apiece.

        "I mean... let's say that we just make a wish to be rich and -
shazam - I turn us into instant billionaires... somebody... y'know,
somebody like the I.R.S... is going to get suspicious and want an
accounting!  Y'know, as in they're going to want know just where in hell
we got all that money of ours' in the first friggin' place!

        "So... I was thinking... that... since you've always wanted to
win the lottery anyhow... I could a do little tinkering here... a little
finagling there... and there by insure that nobody wins for... shall we
say... the next six weeks or so... y'know, causing the rather
substantial jackpot that now exist to sky rocket damn near
exponentially...

        "Then... once the payoff has been substantially inflated... I
flex a little bit more of this magical potential of mine and poof!  I
provide you with the one and only wining ticket."

        "Okay!  So we hit for the big payola!  We take some of the first
year's pay-out and go on a spree! For instance, we take some of those
dream vacations that you and I have always wanted to take.  We buy a new
car!  A house!  Whatever!  The rest we invest. And we invest across the
whole spectrum.  We put some... a tidy amount... in blue chips!  The
remainder, we split between middle of the roaders and some high risk,
technology based companies!  Then, I go to work.  I find a few well
deserving people... y'know, who are employed by a few of these high
risk, technology based companies that we've invested in... and... shall
we say... lend them a hand in developing some new and extremely
marketable products... y'know, that will result in our investments
doubling... tripling and in some case... quadrupling.

        "And we keep doing that.  Investing and re- investing... until
one fine day... in the not to distant future... guess what, Ann!  You're
not merely a paltry... run of the mill... multi-millionaire! Your a
reclusive, beautiful blonde bombshell of a billionaire!

        "And then, if you want to get into philanthropic business... and
do what we can to help right the wrongs of this old world of ours...
great!

        "You see, Ann... while we can't actually break the rules...
y'know, that prohibit you from using my metaphysical where-with-all for
the benefit others... if we employ the right approach... we can sure as
shit bend the friggin' hell out of 'em!"

        "Yeah!  When you put it like that... oh, harem girl clad husband
of mine... it sure seems like the right way to go!

	"But tell me something, Gene!"

	"Sure, hon... what?"

        "Why all the subterfuge?  Why can't we just say the hell with it
and flaunt the fact that I am in the possession of a magic lamp who's
beautiful genie grants me any wish that my little heart desire...
y'know, and then we don't have to worry about all the hassles stemming
out of these unintended consequences that you made mention of?"

        "Because, Ann... while you could get away with something like
that in the once upon a long... long... long time ago of those long out
of fashion goldie, oldie, moldy Days of Yore... y'know, when uneducated
folk believed in magical lamps, wish granting genies and all that other
fanciful and far fetched balderdash... while it's true that there are
lot of people who would accept the fact that I am who and what I claim
to be... y'know, out of hand... you'd best believe that there would
always be a whole parcel of skeptics roaming around out there... y'know,
who... even though they are presented with irrefutable proof that I am
who and what I say I am... they are not going to buy into it!  They are
going to swear that you and I are running some sort of high tech scam on
them!

        "And then there's something else to consider, Ann!

	"And what - pray tell - is that, Gene!

        "Were you to tell the world that you are in the possession of a
magic lamp... who's 'I Dream of Jeannie' like jinn grants you any wish
that you might make... guess what, dear!  You will become an instant
celebrity... who... given how this modern day celebrityhood of ours'
works... will be hounded for the rest of your life!  Y'know, like
Princess Di was! Like Jackie Kennedy was!

        "Now... tell me the truth, Ann!  Do you really want to spend the
rest of your life embroiled in a never ending game of dodge the press?"

        "Heavens, no!", Ann returned most emphatically. "You're right,
Gene!  That sort of notoriety must be avoided at all cost!

        "Perhaps... we ought to re-think this billionaire business as
well.  I mean... while I'd like to live out the rest of my life
comfortably... y'know, and make the most out of these newly conferred
talents of yours... oh, little sexpot of a femmed out husband of mine...
if there's any way to possible do so... I'd like to pass on the
notoriety business.  Alright?"

        "Sure, hon...  Anything that little heart of your's desires.
Besides... given that I can take care of all our immediate needs...
y'know, and then some... we have plenty of time to consider what we're
going to do in the future.  Y'know, as in we don't have to rush these
decisions of ours', Ann!"

        "So... little Miss Stacked and Packed Problem Solver of mine -
pray tell - what are we going to do about our respective jobs?

        "I mean... you certainly aren't going into work on Monday...
y'know, looking like you do now!  And... if you're not going to go into
work... I can see absolutely no reason for me to do so either!  Y'know,
since you can... as you say... take care of all our immediate needs.

        "So... the question is, Gene: just how are we going to handle
these respective jobs of ours' come Monday morning?  I mean... are we
simply going to call in sick or what?"

        "No...", Gene mused thoughtfully, "That'll only postpone the
problem."

	"So... what are we going to do?", Ann prompted.

	"Let me think about this for a second, Ann...

	"Wait!  I think I've got it!", Gene exclaimed.

        "Your boss has voice mail on her phone... doesn't she, Ann?"

	"Yes...", Ann offered tentatively.

	"Good!  So does mine.

        "Alright!", Gene continued on to explain. "Tomorrow... something
in the early afternoon... you're going to call your boss' voice mailbox
and tell her that we have a family emergency that requires your
immediate attention... which... given what happened to me today... is...
in a convoluted manner of speaking... the truth... the whole truth...
and nothing but the truth... y'know, so you really aren't lying to her,
Ann...

        "But anyhow... getting back to what you are to say... I suggest
that you elude to the fact that though you really hate to put her on the
spot... you're going to have to take a weeks vacation so that you can
attend to what needs to be attended to... y'know, and that you'll touch
base with her later on in the week... y'know, just to keep her appraised
as to what's going on.

        "Then... after you call your boss... I'll call my boss' voice
mail and do likewise."

        "How are you going to that, Gene?  Y'know, given the fact that
this new and distinctly feminized rendition of your voice doesn't sound
even remotely like your old male voice did."

        "Easy!  I'll just tinker around with the telephone company's
voice mail system with a wee bit of this magical potential of mine and -
Wallah! - come Monday morning... when my boss plays his messages back -
guess what - it won't be the all new and ultra feminized version of my
voice that he'll be hearing... but rather my old, distinctly male
sounding voice instead."

        "You can do that?", Ann, though she had no doubt that he - as a
she - could, found herself posing the question anyhow.

	"Yeah... it's a cinch!"

        "Alright... smart ass!  That'll take care of next week.  What -
pray tell - do we do after that!  Call in and take another weeks
vacation?"

        "Sure... why not, Ann?  And then... once we used up all of the
vacation days respectively due us... we'll start taking days off without
pay.

        "I mean... the worst thing that's going to happen is: we'll piss
'em off and they'll terminate us!"

	"True...", Ann agreed.  "But..."

	"But what, Ann!"

        "I don't know, Gene... it's just that I'm... I guess you could
say... uncomfortable with the idea of doing something like that."

        "So am I, dear!", Gene replied.  "But what else are we going to
do?

        "I mean... if it's going to bother you that much, hon... tell
you what!  You continue go to work... y'know, until we hit the lottery
and then, you can quit!  Y'know, 'cause nobody... especially that boss
of your's... is going to expect you to keep working after you win the
kind of money that we're talking about here, Ann!"

        "Regrettable... since I'm not the man that I used to be...
y'know, like this morning... when I woke up... I don't have luxury of
that option!  I can't go to work!  You - however - can!

        "So... it's up to you, Ann!  I can't make the decision for you!
Work!  Don't work!

        "But... the good thing is, dear... if you do decide to keep
working... we're only talking about six to eight weeks here!  So... if
you feel that you need to keep working... y'know, to sooth your
sensibilities... it'll only be for the next month or two at the most.
And then, Ann... after we hit the lottery... you don't have to work ever
again.

        "Tell you want, Ann!  Since is fairly evident that you don't
appear even remotely comfortable with that first option of mine... why
don't you think about it for awhile.  Y'know, like sleep on it.  Then...
after you had a good night's sleep... you might have a better idea as to
exactly what you like to do. Alright?"

        With a degree of thoughtful reluctance registering clearly in
her voice, Ann Renyolds concurred with her jinnified husband, "Yes.  As
much as I hate the very though of having to continue to work... y'know,
when you're not... I do believe that you're right, Gene.  Before I opt
to go one way or the other... I ought to take some time and think about
it for awhile.  Y'know, because... as you have so accurately observed...
I'm not altogether comfortable with that equivocating option of your's,
Gene! Y'know, because I hate being even the least little bit deceitful
with anyone!"

        "Yes, hon!", Gene readily agreed, as he reached up, and without
any conscious thought as to what he - as a she - was once again doing,
began to delicately swirl the nail portion of his newly enameled and
well manicured index finger around the satin swathe which concealed the
femininely re-sensitized nipple of his left boobie.  "If there's one
thing you're not!  It's a liar!


* * *


        After that, as the two of them sat their sipping their
champagne, and Gene, though he remained completely oblivious to the fact
that he - as a she - was doing so, continued to intermittently
fiddlefuck around with both of his newly installed, fully functional and
undeniable female primary and secondary sexual attributes, their
conversation passed into the realm of inconsequential matters.

        They teasing talked about how some of their friends and family
might react were they to ever learn the truth of Gene's jinnification
and subsequent femmification.  Ann, though it was clear that she had no
intention of ever following through with her admittedly farfetched
notion, joshingly suggested that it might be a lot of fun were she to
throw a coming out party for her femmified husband.

        "After all, Gene...", Ann drolly taunted, "Now that you've got
that dick teaser special of a most bodacious and beautiful bob of built
like a brick shithouse body of your's... given the fact that that horny
little libido of your's is still as manly as it ever was... y'know, that
- in turn - tends to gets those newly perverted and fully feminized love
juices of your's flowing whenever you look at an attractive woman...
whether you like it to admit it or not... oh, harem girl clad husband of
mine... guess what! Technically speaking... being that you're now a girl
who digs girls... y'know, in a sexually sense... you're a card carrying,
dyed in th wool, lesbian dyke now!

        "Yeah!", Gene scoffed as he - as the she that he become - once
again aimless and dejectedly plucked at the diaphanous material of the
pantaloons he was so scandalously and seductively decked out in.  "So,
what if I am?"

        "Well...", Ann, continuing on with her jest, "Since 'coming out
of the closet' is the politically correct thing to do... not to
mention... the current rage... I was thinking that it would be a nice
gesture on my part were I to throw you a 'coming out of the closet'
party!  I mean... we could invite all of our friends over one Saturday
evening so you could make the grand announcement... y'know, declaring
your homosexuality!"

        "Tell you what, Ann...", Gene teased back, "You can throw that
party of your's on one condition."

        "And what - pray tell - is that one condition... oh, femmified
husband of mine?"

        "That you won't get upset with me if I take it upon myself to
harmlessly flirt with a few of our guest."

        Ann, unaware that she was setting herself up for the sucker
punch, quipped, "Have no fear, Gene.  I promise you that I won't get
bent out shape if you play Little Ms. Dick Teaser and taunt some of our
friends.  Fact is... oh, harem girl clad husband of mine... just as long
as you keep it innocent and don't let it get to far out of hand... I
think it would be a real hoot to sit back and watch you torque the
livin' shit out of some of those old neighborhood, beer guzzling buddies
of your!

        "Who'd you have in mind to come on to, Gene? Ray?  Pall?
Mickey?

        "I know!  I know!  Before you work those new feminine wilds of
your's on anybody, Gene... the guy you should flirt with first is Keith!
I mean... if anybody deserves it... Keith does!"

        "Ann...", Gene craftily set the hook, "I think you've
misunderstood me."

	"I have?", Ann innocently replied.

        "Yes, dear... I'm afraid you have.  You see, Ann... when I made
mention of the fact that I would like to flirt a little... it wasn't our
male friends that I was thinking about flirting around with. Rather...
it was our female friends.  Y'know, like Ginny... and Karen... and
Heather...

        I mean... like you... I've always harbored some suspicions about
Heather's sexual proclivities... y'know, especially considering the way
she accords herself when she's in the company of other women.  I mean...
and I'm not the only one who's notice, Ann! Many times... you yourself
have... on numerous occasions, mind you... made mention of the fact that
Heather's always making some sort of an excuse to either touch or hug
another woman!  Who knows, Ann... maybe... just maybe... if I play these
newly bestowed cards of mine right... I might be able to give her
husband Allen a real run for his money!"

        "Over my dead body, you will!", Ann flared in a most
demonstrative manner.

        "If you think that I would ever - Ever! - tolerate you coming on
to anybody... especially another woman... Gene!  You've got another
think coming!  If... and it's still a big 'IF'... you ever get to
indulge those lesbian couched perversions of your's, little lady...
It'll be with me!  Understand?"

        "Yes, dear...  I understand completely.", Gene returned with
feigned contriteness.


* * *


        "Gene...", Ann prompted as she leaned slightly forward and
gently placed her champagne glass upon the coffee table.

	"Yes..."

        "Eventually... in the not to distant future... we're going to
have address the fact that you aren't the you that you use to be."

        "We are... are we?", Gene sarcastically retorted. "And here I
thought we were doing just that!"

        "No, Gene!", Ann replied with all seriousness. "You know fully
well what I'm talking about!"

	"I do... do I?"

	"Yes!  Damn it!  You do!

        "Sooner or later... and given our luck... it'll probably be a
whole hell of a lot sooner than later, Gene... somebody is going to ask
me where you - the male you - are... and I'm going to have to tell them
something!

        "So... oh, femmified husband of mine...  Please! I implore you!
Tell me how I'm supposed to handle it when that happens!

        "I mean... I can't just keeping coming up with one excuse after
another... now can I?  Eventually somebody... somebody like your
mother... or your boss... or one of your friends is going to demand to
know exactly where you are!"

        "So, my darling dearest... what do we do to prevent something
like that from happening?"

        "Well...", Gene began thoughtfully, "When you're right!  You're
right!  We are going to have to do something.  And we're going to have
to do something soon... probably within the next week or so.

        "Trouble is, hon... given the fact that... to the very best of
my knowledge as a jinn... which... if I do say so myself... is rather
considerable... it doesn't appear like I'll be getting my old, all male
body back any time soon... y'know, like in the next couple of
millenniums or so.  So... due to that persnickety fact... though I've
racked and re-racked this brain of mind... y'know, trying to come up
with some type of an alternative... I hate to say this: but... if we're
going to get past this rather pivotal wrinkle in our lives together...
the old me... that is: the old, male me... is going to have to meet with
and early and tragic demise!

        "Though I have yet to work out all the gory details of just how
I'm going to accomplish it... the Gene Renyolds that everybody knew...
and hopefully loved... is going to have to kick the proverbial bucket.

        Ann, knowing that her jinnified husband was right, but not
exactly thrilled with the notion of what he was proposing, questioned,
"Gene... is that really necessary?"

	"Yes, Ann.    I'm afraid it is.

        "In fact, hon... I should have thought of it before... y'know,
like back when we discussing what we were going to do about our jobs.

        "I mean... if I stage some sort of accident... y'know, in which
the old male me buys the farm... y'know, like before Monday morning
rolls around... that'll take care of everything in one fell swoop!  I
won't have to worry about going in to work... y'know, because... as far
as everyone else is concerned... the old, male me will be dead!  And
you... as the grieving widow... won't have to go into work either!"

        "No!", Ann, her voice registering more than a little
consternation, returned.  "I'll be stuck with making all the funeral
arrangements!"

	"Not necessarily, Ann...

        "Tell you what!  Before I stage the sham of my own demise,
dear... you and I will work out a living will... y'know, that'll pretty
much take care of everything!

        "Besides, Ann... our immediate families will be here to lend you
a hand!

        "And speaking of our immediate families, dear... since you're
adamant about giving this rather convoluted... if not sexually
dysfunctional relationship of ours a go... considering the fact that
neither one of us wants to sever our ties with our families... I really
think that we need to get together with 'em and tell them exactly what
has happened to me!  A.S.A.P.!  Y'know... like sometime tomorrow!

        "Then... once we've appraised them of what has transpired...
you'll make a wish... a wish that I will quickly rubber-stamp... that
will... in effect... place a gag order on all of them... y'know, to
insure that they won't be able to tell anybody else about what has
happened to me!  We'll also tell them about what we're planning...
y'know, in so far as the sham involved in staging my tragic and untimely
demise. Then... in order to  help you play the part of the grieving
widow and our respective immediate family members to play the supporting
roles of the grieving mourners... we'll have you make another wish that
will - in essence - turn the whole caboodle of you into the finest
dramatic actors the world has ever known."

	"Gene..."

	"Yes, dear."

	"Tell me something..."

	"Sure, hon.  If I can."

	"How are you planning to do yourself in?"

        "Well... though it'll cost us one of our vehicles... I guess the
best way me to handle my own demise  would be to stage some sort of auto
accident. I could create some false skid marks... y'know, that would
make it look like an oncoming car... that was going way to fast...
careened around a corner and... even though I tried like hell to swerve
out of its' path... broadsided me... forcing our car over an embankment.
"Then... to negate all the hassles involved in the funeral pallor
business... I'll fix it so that all you have to do is to hold a very
small... very short memorial service for me."

        "And just how are you going to manage to do that, Gene?"

        "Easily!  Once my car has gone over that embankment I made
mention of... and starts in to rolling end over end... I'll just arrange
to have my car's gas tank rupture... spill gasoline all over the
friggin' place and proceed on to catch on fire... y'know, so that my old
male body will be... for all practical purposes... completely
incinerated."

        "What body?", Ann, her voice registering alarm, demanded.  "What
in the world are you talking about, Gene?  "Where are you going to come
up with a body?"

        "Well... though I'm not sure you really want... or for that
matter... need to hear all gory details, Ann... I figure that since I
need something to work with... y'know, given the fact that I can't
create something out of nothing... I'll just hunt up some unfortunate
road-kill... y'know, like a possum... or a raccoon... or whatever... and
use my magic to re-shape it into assuming my old, male form.

        "But don't worry, Ann.  You won't have to look at it.  I mean...
by the time they put out the fire... that magically re-shape body double
of mine will be nothing more that a chard cinder and the only way
they'll going to be able to identify the remains of the re-shaped crispy
critter road-kill is by the denture work and... since I'm not going to
be wearing it anymore... y'know, not with this body of mine... my
college class ring.  That way, you won't even have to be put to all the
inconvenience of having to personally go down to the county coroner's
office and identify the remains of my body double."

	"How considerate of you.", Ann scoffed.

        Ignoring his wife sarcastically couched remark, Gene continued,
"Then... after all the rigmarole involved in bidding that old, male body
of mine a fond adieu... you and I can take care of what needs to be
taken care of... and then... after you hit the lottery... I seriously
think that we should consider relocating... y'know, to avoid the hassles
involved should we run into some of our old friends.

        "Oh!", Gene exclaimed.  "I just thought of something else!  Your
looks!  Or... I should have said: these new, enhanced looks of your's!"

        "What's wrong with these new looks of mine... oh, femmified
husband of mine?"

        "Nothing!  Absolutely nothing!  They're perfect! Absolutely
perfect!"

	"Then - prey tell - what's all the hubbub about?"

        "Ann... the problem is: they're too perfect!  I would strongly
suggest that you might consider toning 'em down a bit... y'know, that
is: until we take care of all the loose ends."

        Ann, who, to her own astonishment, was tickled pink with this
all new and seductively improved body of her's, wasn't exactly thrilled
with Gene's timely suggestion.  Though she would have like to rejected
it out of hand and retain this new bod of a body of her's, she knew, in
her heart of hearts, that what her harem girl clad husband was
suggesting was - without a doubt - the best course of action to take and
that she should do as he advised.

        "Gene.. though I hate like hell to admit that your right... oh,
scantily clad femmified husband of mine... we're going to have to do
something about this new body of mine.  So... even though I'd rather
not... I tell you what I'm going to do.  I'm going to meet that
suggestion of your's half way.   Starting tomorrow morning... whenever
we are not alone... I wish that I had a slightly upgraded version of my
old body back.  Y'know, as in: I want to appear just a smidgen or two
prettier than I used to be.  However... when you and I are alone... when
it's just the two of us... just to drive you and that male libido of
your's up the friggin' wall, young lady... I want to be decked out in
this new... ultra sexual... ultra sensual... body of mine.  Alright?"

	"Granted."

        "Also... given the fact that I don't want to keep switching back
and forth between this new body of mine and a upgraded version of my
former one... I wish that... starting tomorrow morning... and continuing
over the next six months or so... the upgraded version of my former body
undergoes a gradual re- sculpturing... y'know, until it turns into this
simply scrumptious, dick teaser special that you've gone and so
scandalously and seductively decked me out in."

	"Granted."


* * *


        "Gene...", Ann once again sought her jinnified husband's
clarification.

	"Yes, dear."

        "If we do decide to relocate... which... by the way... I tend to
agree with you that... given the circumstances that we find ourselves
embroiled within... relocation seems to me to be a very good idea...
However... should we decide to do so... won't that severely curtail our
ability to visit our parents?"

        "I don't see why it should.", Gene replied evenly.

	"You don't?", Ann demand.

        "No.  Remember, dear... while this new body of mine might be
femmed out to the friggin' max now... y'know, equipped with the same
sort of female attributes that you yourself have... I've also been
turned into a elemental enhanced, lamp tethered and housed jinn...
y'know, who possesses a whole arsenal of magical powers and potential!

        "In other words... even if we move to the other side of the
world... we can pop in on our parents anytime we want to."

        "You mean... you can... I guess you could say... teleport the
two of us anywhere?"

	"Yes, hon.  Anywhere your little heart desires."

	"Oh!  That's pretty nifty!

        "You mean to tell me that... if I want to pop over to London...
y'know, to see the changing of the guard... we could do that and then
pop right back here after it was over?"

        "Sure... if you'd like, Ann.  I mean... now that I got these
metaphysical enhancements of mine...something of that nature that would
be a cinch for me to pull off."


* * *


        A few minutes later, as the two of them were sitting there,
sipping their champagne and eagerly exploring the very real possibility
of visiting some the more exotic places that they had always dreamed of
visiting, Gene, who, unbeknownst to his own herified self, was once
again aimlessly plucking at the diaphanous material of the pantaloons
that his lower extremities were so scandalous festooned within, couldn't
fail to take note of the fact that his wife's most fetchingly
re-sculptured bod of body was being racked by a seemingly involuntarily
shuddered and, subsequent to that, even as the shudder's after- quivers
began to subside, goose-bumps began to manifest themselves, running all
up and down both of Ann's forearms.

	"Cold shiver?", Gene inquired sympathetically.

        "Yes, damn it!", Ann returned unnerved.  "A really weird... icky
feeling one!

        "This is ridiculous!  Absolutely ridiculous!", Ann declared
vehemently.

        "I mean to tell you, Gene... ever since I made that boneheaded
wish of mine... y'know, that had me walking a proverbial mile in those
silver stiletto high heeled pumps that I teasingly... if not somewhat
sadistically... decked you out in... I can't seem to shake the memory of
just how horny and turned on I was!

        "I mean... as perverted as it must surely sound... I actually
wanted to have my way with you, Gene!"

        "Tell me about it!", Gene, who's thoroughly male- oriented
libido was chomping at the bit to do likewise,  attempted to commiserate
with his wife's memory induced dilemma.  "I'm sad to say: I know exactly
how you feel, Ann!  Trouble is: while you only have to cope with the
memory of what it's like to have a male mind that's encased with a
female's body, I'm going have to live with the sheer and utter ignominy
of it all for the rest of this new and sexually convoluted life of
mine!"

        "Gene!  I'm so... so sorry!  Believe me!  You have my deepest
sympathy!

	"Honestly... I don't know how you do it!"

        "Do what, dear?", Gene, seeking clarification, returned.

	"Deal with it!", Ann emphatically exclaimed.

        "I mean... knowing what the memory of my being motivated by that
thoroughly male-oriented libido of your's is doing to me - Still! -  I
can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, Gene!

        "I mean... as much as I hate to admit this... oh, femmified
husband of mine... ever since I made that admittedly foolish wish...
though I endeavor to stifle them as soon as I become aware that I'm
entertaining such lewd, crude and blatantly perverted notions... as
crass as this must surely sound... would you believe, Gene... that I am
actually starting to have... what I would term... short-lived,
mini-fantasies about fooling around with you... y'know, as in: the new
and simply scrumptious femme fatale that you've become!"

	"You mean there's hope?", Gene teasingly taunted.

        "No!", Ann countered demonstratively.  "Don't go getting your
hopes up... oh, harem girl clad husband of mine!  Y'know... because...
as I keep telling you... while I might... through no fault of my own...
harbor a few lesbian-like fantasies about you and I getting it on
together...  be advised, Gene: I'm about as far from taking the
lesbian-lifestyle plunge as I can be!

	"Understood?", Ann demand.

        With a sense of regret registering clearly in his ultra
feminized, honey sweeten voice, Gene lamely replied, "Yes dear... I'm,
afraid I do..."


* * *



	"Gene."

	"Yes, hon..."

        Then, having re-acquire her femmified husband's attention, Ann
inquisitively inquired, "Are you getting hungry?".

	"No.  Not especially...

        "Fact is, Ann... I don't think we jinns get hungry."

        "Are you saying: that... now that you're a genie... you don't
need to eat food anymore?"

        "No.  As far as I know, Ann... I can still eat food.  And more
to the point... I can still enjoy food!  It's just that I don't need
food... y'know, to sustain myself... given the fact that we jinns get
all the nourishment we require from our mystical, metaphysical aspects.

        "Oh!  That's interesting!  You can eat, but you don't have to
eat!  That's kind of a nice arrangement to have!

        "Trouble is, Gene... while you might not be hungry... I am!
Remember!  I was right in the middle of fixing the two us lunch when you
did whatever you went did... y'know, to get yourself sucked up into this
new little brass lamp of our's!  And because you did whatever you did...
y'know, that more or less turned our lives together into an updated -
albeit, perverted - version of "I Dream of Jeannie"... I never got
around to eating!

        So anyhow... oh, harem girl clad husband of mine... to make a
long story short... since I haven't had anything to eat since we made
that breakfast stop at McDonalds this morning... I'm famished!"

        "Alright, dear.", Gene replied.  "We can take care of that
hunger of your's right here and now! Just tell me what would suit your
fancy... phrase it into a wish and - Shazam! - I'll magically whip it up
for you."

	"For us!", Ann corrected.

        "Alright... for us!", Gene, endeavoring to be agreeable,
replied.  "You tell me what you'd like to eat tonight, Ann and I'll come
up with something that I'd like to munch on.  Then, we'll work on the
wording of this culinary wish of our's and I'll go to work... y'know,
playing the role of the metaphysical chef!"

        "No...", Ann mused aloud, "I do believe that... instead of the
two of us eating home tonight, Gene... since you owe me dinner out
anyhow... y'know, to belatedly celebrate our last anniversary... I was
thinking that I'd like to try that new Australian steak-house... y'know,
the one that just opened up a couple months or so ago... y'know, Gene...
the one that you and I've been talking about going to..."

        "Ann!", Gene broke in frantically.  "Please!  I implore you!
Tell me that you're kidding!

        "I mean... you are... aren't you?  I mean... you're not
seriously suggesting that the two of us actually go out to dinner
tonight?

        "Yes, Gene!  I do believe that that's exactly what I'm
suggesting.

	"But, Ann!", Gene protested.

	"But what!", Ann challenged.

	"You can't be serious, Ann!"

        "And just why can't I be... oh, new little lady of mine?"

	"Because...", Gene pleaded.

	"Because... why?", Ann prompted.

	"You know!"

	"No, Gene!  I don't know!

        "I mean... if this new found reluctance of your's is due to the
fact that that you've been magically fitted out with that brand spanking
new, bodacious, built like a brick shithouse bod of a body... tough
nuggie!  Sooner or later, Gene... whether you like it or not... you're
going to have to take the proverbial plunge and start going out in
public as the woman you've become... y'know, since it's more or less a
given that I'm not about to stay copped up in this house of our's until
you get up the gumption to give it a go!

        "Besides, Gene... no one... save for little old your's truly...
is going to take you for anything other than what you appear to be!

        "In other words... oh, femmified husband of mine... your
fears... or your reservations... or your whatevers... are completed
unfounded!  People are going to take you for the woman that you appear
to be! Nothing more!  Nothing less!

        "I mean... from my vantage point... you walk like a woman!  You
talk like a woman!  And... there's no denying the fairly obvious fact...
given the scintillating proportions of that lovely new body of your's...
that you look - every inch - like the woman you've been turned into!
So, little lady...  even though you might not think exactly like a woman
is supposed to think - Guess what, Gene! - people are going to take you
for the woman that you've been so underhandedly turned into!

        "So... since you'd only be postponing the inevitable... y'know,
because... though it might taken a whole hell of a lot of cajoling on my
part... y'know... to... shall we say... force the issue... the way I see
it... the best thing you can do, Gene is: to just say the hell with it
and get it over with! Y'know,... so you and I can get on with our lives!

        "Yeah...", Gene began tentatively.  "I know - and agree - with
everything you are saying, dear.  And I do - I really... truly do! -
fully intend to venture out with you... y'know, at some point in time...
However... be that as it may be, dear... before I do... as you say...
take the proverbial plunge... I'd kind of like to get a little more use
to this new body of mine before I do..."

        "How come?", Ann demanded.  "I mean... save for the fact that
you keep crassly groping and fondling yourself... y'know, in a very
unlady like manner... you seem to me to fully acclimated to that new
body of your's.

        "Hell, Gene... I wish I was as sure-footed as you are when it
comes to wearing high heels!  I mean... they didn't seem to phase you in
the least little bit! I mean... here I've been wearing heels for years
and guess what!  I not anywhere as proficient with 'em as you are!"

        "You are now.", Gene stated rather matter-of- factly.

	"I am?", Ann returned quizzically.

        "Yes, Ann... you are.  While you might be unaware of the fact
that you did so, hon... you said... and I quote, that you wished that
you were 'as sure-footed as' me' when it comes to wearing heels'.

	"I did.  Didn't I?"

        "Yes, dear.  You did.  And... given the fact that I like to see
you in heels... I just went ahead and rubber-stamped that inadvertently
stated wish your's."

        "So... if I'm hearing you correctly... oh, ultra femmified
husband of mine... you've gone done something magical... something
that'll make wearing high heels easier for me?"

        "Yes... Ann.  That's it in a nut shell.  From here on out,
wearing heels will be a cinch for you.

        "Hell, Ann... with the metaphysical enhancements that I just
made.... though I can't conceive of you ever doing something of this
nature... should you elect to do so... you have become so acclimated to
the wearing of high heels... y'know, as a result of that last wish of
your's... that you could actually go out jogging wearing a pair and they
wouldn't phase you in the least little bit."

        "Oh!", Ann exclaimed, "That is an interesting turn of events!

        "But regardless of all that... oh, new and amply endowed little
lady of mine... getting back to the business of you and I going out this
evening... y'know, to grab a bite to eat... though I can no longer
employ a wish to coerce you into accompanying me... be advised that if
you don't go... you'll be one sorry little genie!  Y'know... as in: I'll
devise some fiendish way to make rue the day, Gene!

        "I mean... if you think that harem girl outfit that you're
wearing is an assault on that macho, anal- retentive mind of your's...
you just wait... oh, herified husband of mine!  I swear!  If you don't
go out with me tonight, I'll deck you out in something so scandalously
outrageous that it'll make that male mind of your's cream in the jeans
you're no longer going to be wearing!"

        Gene, horrified to the very marrow of his femininely
re-constituted bones, retorted, "You wouldn't!  You couldn't!"

        "I could!  I would!  And more to the point, Gene... make no
never mind about it!  I will... y'know, if you don't bite the bullet and
go out to dinner with me tonight!

        "I mean... since you're going to have to do it eventually... why
not just do it and have done with it!

        "Besides, Gene... even if  we do run into a couple of the people
we know... given the fact that we both look like a couple of Playboy's
drop dead gorgeous center-folds now - Dollars to doughnuts! - nobody's
going to be able recognize us in the first friggin' place!"

        "True...", Gene found his herified self reluctantly conceding.
"I fully agree with everything you are saying, dear... it's just...
just... just..."

	"Just what, Gene?", Ann Demanded.

        With a great deal of hesitation involved in the effort, Gene
meekly replied, "It's just that I'm not in any way, shape or form
comfortable with the notion of my parading around in public with this
thoroughly feminized new body of mine, Ann!

        "I mean... I know that I'm going to have to! Y'know...
eventually!  But the very thought that I going to do something as
outrageous as that this evening... gives me the willies!

	"Ann..."

	"Yes, Gene!"

        "If... and it's still a big 'IF'... I do concede to go out to
dinner with you - Please!  I implore you! - tell me that you intend on
doing something about this harem girl outfit that I'm wearing!

        "I mean... you're not seriously thinking about having me go out
in this getup!", Gene emphasized by once again plucking at the
diaphanous material of the pantaloons that his femininely re-sculptured
legs were so fetchingly festooned within.  "Are you?"

        "Heavens no!", Ann giggled.  "If that's what's got you all in a
dither, Gene... have no fear!  I have every intention of addressing that
outfit of your's before you and I venture out of the house together.

	"Could you be a wee bit more specific, Ann?

        "I mean... I'd kind of like to know what I'm getting into if...
that is... I do grudgingly agree to this proposal of your's, dear!"

        "Sure... oh, femmified husband of mine!  I'd be more than happy
to give you a quick run down of what I have in mind!

        "Fact is... since you WILL be accompanying me tonight, Gene...
why don't we attend to your clothes right here and  now... y'know, and
then we'll be done with it!

        "Let me see...  I wish for your harem girl outfit to be turned
into a pair of jeans and sweater."

	"Granted."

        Gone was Gene's harem girl outfit.  In its' place was a pair of
faded, skin tight blue jeans and a simple white, fisherman's bulky knit,
turtleneck sweater.

        "Alright?", Ann inquire.  "Can you live with that ensemble,
Gene?  Or do we have to come up with something else?"

        Gene, having given his herified self the cursory once over,
replied, "Yeah... I guess it'll do...

   "But what about my shoes, Ann?  Won't those silver heels that you
teasingly decked me out in looked a bit out of place with these
clothes?"

        "Yes...", Ann concurred.  "I do believe you're right... oh,
femmified husband of mine!  Those silver heels of your's aren't going to
cut it!

        "So... that being the case... I wish for those silver high heels
of your's to be turned into a pair of black, stiletto heeled ankle
boots!"

	"Granted."

        The floor residing, silver pumps that Gene had seen fit to
divest his herified of when he, as a she, had assumed the crossed
legged, Indian-like, sitting position, abruptly made the change that Ann
had prescribed.

        "Alright, Gene... now that we've attended to your evening's
attire... how about we tackle mine?"

	"Alright.  Shoot!"

        "I wish that you would change this simply fantastic, dick-teaser
special of an outfit that you concocted to... shall we say... showcase
this all new and extremely sex body of mine into something similar to
the attire we just fashioned for you to wear this evening... save that
I'd like my jeans to be of the dark blue variety... y'know, as if I had
just bought them and this was the first time I was wearing 'em! Also...
instead of a sweater... I think I'd like to go with a blouse and vest
combination... y'know, so the two of us won't be dressed exactly the
same!"

        "What about your shoes, Ann?  What would you like me to do with
'em?"

        "Well... since you did whatever you did... y'know, to... I guess
you could say... enhance my sure-footedness when wearing high heels...
tell you what, Gene... let's just leave 'em be for now! Y'know, just to
see if what you say is true... y'know, about being able to confidently
prance around in 'em now!"

	"Granted."

	"Gene."

	"Yes, hon?"

        "You've forgotten something?  Something important!", Ann teased.

	"I have?", Gene was perplexed.

        "Yes... oh, femmified husband of mine.... you most certainly
have!"

        After a moment or so, Gene, having absolutely no idea at all
about what his wife was talking about, said, "Okay, Ann!  I'll bite!
What - Pray tell! - did I overlook?"

        "Underwear!  You complete forgot to provide the two of us with
underwear!

	"Underwear!", Gene, Ann noted, was flustered.

        "Yes, Gene!  Y'know... underwear!  Y'know, like bras and
panties!"

        "A bra!", Gene countered disgustedly.  "You're not seriously
suggesting that I fit myself out with a bra are you, Ann?"

        "Yes, Gene... that is: unless you want those new and rather
ample boobies of your's to bounce around... y'know, like all over the
friggin' place... oh, femmifeid husband of mine!"

        "Shit!", Gene quipped resignedly.  "This being a guy decked out
in a girl's body sucks!

        "I mean... who ever would have thought that I would have to
start wearing one of those dastardly, uncomfortable, constricting
thing-a-ma-jigs!"

        Then, in a much meeker tone of voice, Gene continued on to
inquire, "Ann."

	"Yes, Gene."

	"Question."

	"Yes..."

        "Does this underwear of ours have to be of the frilly variety...
y'know, like all lacy an all?"

        Ann, knowing fully well that her husband had an aversion to
frilly and lacy under-things, figured that discretion was the better
part of valor and so, in an effort to make the acclimation process as
easy as possible for Gene, replied, "No, dear.  It most certainly does
not!

        "You have my permission to select whatever fabric and styling
that suits your fancy."

	"Ann.  You have my sincerest thanks!.

        "Let me see now...", Gene pondered aloud.  "If I'm going to have
to start wearing women's underwear... I might as well wear something I
like. Right?

        "So... let's go with something out of the last Victoria's Secret
Catalog."

        Ann, spurred on by the realization that she was now wearing both
bra and panties, took a moment or two to check 'em out for herself.
Then, having completed a quick peek-a-boo of a look-see,  she proceed on
to comment, "My... my...  Satin!   And silver satin at that...

        "I mean... are we being a little self-indulgent here or what...
oh, femmified husband of mine?"

        "Well...", Gene replied sheepishly.  "I just figured..."

        Ann broke in, "There's no need to explain yourself to me, Gene!

        "I mean... as far as I'm concerned... if it makes it easier for
you to come to terms with wearing female under garments... so be it!
You have my permission to make any adjustments that you see fit to make!

        "Besides... if I don't like what you've concocted for me to
wear... I can always have you modify it. Right?"

	"Yes, Ann...  Yes, you most certainly can!"

	"Good!  I glade to hear that!", Ann countered.

        "Now, Gene... I suggest you put on those demi ankle boots of
your's, Gene... y'know, so that you can accompany me into the bedroom...
where we can better appraise the results of your magical handiwork in my
dresser's mirror.

        "No need to do that, hon.  If you'd like... all you have to do
is to make a wish that will allow me to turn one of our living room's
walls into a mirror."

        "Oh!  That's right!  I keep forgetting that you can do that sort
of thing... oh, jinnified husband of mine!

        "Okay!  I wish that one of our living room's wall was a mirror!"

        "Granted.", Gene acknowledge as he, as the she that he had
become, demurely plunged his all to recently daintified left foot into
the second of the two ankle boots and as he, as a she, proceed to pull
it home, one whole wall of their living room instantaneously transformed
itself into one huge, silverized, reflecting surface.

        "Wow!", Ann exclaimed.  "That's really something how you do
that, Gene!  One minute - wall!  The next - mirror!

        "I mean to tell you!  I'm impressed!  Really impressed..."


* * *


        A moment so after that, as the two of them stood side by side,
gazing at themselves in their living room's newly mirrorized wall, Ann,
who was thoroughly impressed by what she beheld, proceeded on to say,
"You know something, Gene!  We could be taken for sister!  Perhaps...
even for fraternal twins!

        "I mean... unless I'm way off base here... I do believe that
your body and mine are practically identical!"

        "Basically, Ann... you're correct!  Save for a few subtle
nuances... y'know, such as the coloration of our hair and the variance
in our skin complexions... our bodies... for all intent and purposes...
are damn near identical!

        "You see, Ann... when you made that wish that directed me to
substantially enhance your looks... I simply used my own, all new and
ultra feminized physique as a template."

	"I wonder...", Ann mused aloud.

        "And just what do you wonder, Ann?", Gene, who was having a
devil of a time endeavoring to re-adjust the way his newly acquired
ample endowments were situated within the satin confines of the bra he
had magically fitted his herified self out with, inquisitively inquired.

        "If you could... or... since it goes without saying that
could... y'know, now that you possess the necessary magical
where-with-all to accomplish such... y'know, given the fact that you are
now a extremely attractive... very feminine looking... wish granting
genie, Gene... my question should have been: would you be amiable enough
to turn the two of us into identical twins should I wish for such?"

        "Hmmm...", Gene's reply was thoughtfully cast. "Identical
twins...

        "You know, Ann... you may just have come up with something with
this identical twins business of your's."

	 "I may have?", Ann was somewhat skeptical.

        "Yes, Ann!  I do believe that you may have hit on something that
has the potential of... I guess you could say... defusing this rather
convoluted situation that this new, feminized jinnhood of mine has
imposed upon the two of us!"

	"How so... oh, femmified husband of mine?"

        "Well... if we were identical twins, Ann... no one... well...
almost no one... would think anything untoward about you and I living
together... now would they?

        "I mean... if we were identical twins... people would pretty
much accept the fact that we were nothing more than roommates... and
not... as some people might assume... a couple of weirdos... y'know,
weirdos... as in: lesbians - she'in and she'in loving - bimbos.

        "That's true, Gene...", Ann hesitantly returned. "You're right!
Now a days... given all the gay pride, in your face, homosexuality
bullcrap that's all the current rage... people... y'know, as in normal
people... y'know, the kind of folks that the mass media likes to label
as homophobic... tend to think the worst!  However... if we were
identical twins... I don't think most people would give it a second
thought were the two of us to take up living together.

        "Trouble is, Gene... everybody knows that I don't have an
identical twin!"

        "True enough, Ann.  However... since it's fully with my purview
as a magic wielding jinn to accomplish such... I could... without a
whole hell of a lot of effort on my part... circumvent that little fly
in the proverbial ointment."

	"You could?", Ann queried.

	"Yes, Ann.  I could.

        "First... and only after we run this identical twin gambit of
your's by not only your parents... but mine as well... y'know, just to
make doubly sure they're copacetic with what we're planning to do...
once we get their approval... however grudgingly given that that
approval of their's might be... I'll go to work and create all the
necessary and pertinent paperwork required to substantiate my being able
to assume the role of your identical twin sister. Y'know, as in: I'll
create a birth certificate, a social security card, a complete set of
school records and all the other sundry crappolla that's required to
create a paper-trail of a living, breathing, human being.  Then... once
I've taken care of that crucial little detail and establishing myself as
your twin sister...       I'll create a magical sub-routine that will...
in a convoluted, non-evasive way... alter the memories of anyone - save
for our respective parents and siblings - who has ever known you...
which will... in effect... create a bogus memory of me... y'know, as
your twin sister."

        "You can do that?", Ann excitedly questioned. "You can actually
do something like that, Gene?  I mean... you can actually dicker around
with other people's memories?"

        "Yes, Ann!  In fact, it's a pretty simple under- taking.  Once I
institute this magical sub-routine... if anyone who has ever known you
were to ever think about you... even in passing... guess what, dear!
They will... after a short-lived moment or so of disorientation...
remember me - functioning as your twin sister - as well!"

	"That's terrific, Gene!  Absolutely terrific!

        "You mean to tell me that everyone I've ever known... or come in
contact with... will remember me as having a twin sister?"

	"Yes."

	"Wow!  That's pretty nifty, Gene!

        "I mean... I've always wondered what it would be like to have a
twin sister!  And now... now that you've become what you've become...
oh, femmified husband of mine... I might... if... that is... our parents
are amendable to the idea... get to experience it first hand!

        "I think it'll be neat!  Really... really... neat!"

        Then, in a much more subdued and tentative manner, Ann continued
on to ask, "Gene..."

	"Yes, dear."

        "Look!  While I fully agree with you about running this twin
thing-of-a-ma-jig suggestion of mine by both of our parents first,
Gene... y'know, before we actually implement it for real... couldn't
we... just for the fun it... y'know, just to see if it's going to
work... give it... I guess you could say... a trial run tonight?"

        "Sure, Ann... we could do that.  In fact, honey... I do believe
that's a most apropos suggestion.  That way... we can see if this
identical twin option of your's is going to work out for us or not.

        "I mean... it could prove to be the solution to all the problems
stemming out of this all new and thoroughly feminized jinnhood of mine!
Not to mention... a real hoot!

        "Hell, Ann!  Since I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that I'm
not going to be able to talk you out of this cockamamie notion of your's
that would have the two of us going out to dinner together this
evening... maybe... just maybe... if you and I go out of the house
looking like a pair of identical twin blonde bombshells... I won't feel
as self-conscious as I would have otherwise.  Y'know, because I'll
know... in my heart of hearts... that people just won't be gawking at
me!  They'll be gawking at us!

        "Y'know... as in: you'll be... in a sense... more or less
sharing the load, Ann!   And... though I have no logical explanation for
why this is... in some strange and very convoluted way... just knowing
that... it'll go a long way into helping me deal with all the attention
that this new and extremely sexy body of mine is going to end up
garnishing for me.

        "So, dear...", Gene continued on to inquire, "That begs the
question:  Do we go out tonight looking like you?  Or... do we go out
looking like me?  Or... do we go out looking like some sort of a
composite blend of how we each look now?"

	"Oh!", Ann gleefully replied.  "I have a choice?"

	"Sure, hon...  Why not!"

        "Well...", Ann was thoughtful.  "Since I'd like to keep a
recognizable semblance of my former self, Gene... y'know, to maintain...
shall we say... a family resemblance... I think it best if the two of us
go with my face.   However... since I really like that golden tan of
your's... oh, femmified husband of mine... not to mention the fact that
I've never been all that crazy with this washed out, burn and peel
complexion of mine, Gene... let's go with that lovely, California
girl-like complexion of your's.  Alright?"

	"Sure!  That suits me just fine!"

        "Now...", Ann mused aloud.  "What shall with do with our hair...

        "I know!  Tell you what, Gene!  Let's meet each other's hair
color half way!"

	"Sounds good to me, Ann!

        "Oh!", Gene proceeded on to inquire.  "How long do you want to
make this hair of ours', Ann?   I mean... do you want it short...
y'know, like your's is now?  Or... would you prefer it longer... y'know,
somewhere around the length that this new mane of mine is?"

        "Tell you what, Gene... since we can always modify it to suit
our whims later on... let's go with the longer hair option.  Shall we
say... something in the order of a mid back length!"

	"Alright!  Let's...", Gene readily agreed.

        "Okay... oh, wifey of mine!  All that's needed now is for you to
make the obligatory wish... y'know, so that I can do what I have to do
to implement the necessary changes, Ann."

        Ann did as her husband suggested and Gene, without any
hesitation on his herified part, immediately processed his wife's
wish-spoken request.

        "Wow!", Ann, seeing double, beamed.  "You know something... oh,
femmified husband of mine!  You've got a real knack for this body
re-sculpturing business!  I do believe...", she continued on to say, as
she turned about, admiring her husband's metaphysical handiwork in their
living room's newly mirrorized wall, "...that we're both even a smidgen
prettier than we were before!

        "What do you say, Gene!  Since we're identical twins now... how
about we go whole hog and complete the image by dressing alike?"

        "Is that really necessary?", Gene ask with a degree of
skepticism evident in his honey-sweetened voice.  "I mean... dressing
alike is a little hookie isn't it?  I mean... isn't that something that
parents do with twins when they're little... y'know, and more or less
discontinue the practice as they get older, Ann?"

        "Look, Gene!  I've never been a twin before! Alright?

        "So... while I'm not saying that we'll going to dress alike all
the time... y'know, should we opt to go with this identical twin
business... oh, femmified husband of mine... for tonight... just for the
fun of it... how about you humor me?  Okay?'

        "Sure, dear...", Gene conceded.  "Since you still have
autonomous control of what I'm going to wear anyhow, Ann... you might as
well go ahead and name your poison!  Do you want me to change this
outfit that I'm wearing into an identical one to your's... or... would
you rather have me change your clothes into ones like you up and decked
me out in?"

        "Hmmm...", Ann was thoughtful.  "I think, Gene... all things
considered... I like to go with the subtle simplicity of your outfit
over mine.  So... that being case... I wish that my attire was same as
your's. Okay?"

	"Granted.", Gene replied succinctly.

        And so it was.  The clothes that Ann was wearing immediately,
and without any sort of metaphysical heralding effect, metamorphed into
exact duplicates of Gene's faded jeans and white turtleneck sweater
ensemble.

        "Great!  We look absolutely - no holds bar - fantastic!  Don't
we, Gene?

        I mean... you've got to admit that the two of us look about as
scrumptious as scrumptious can be!"

        Gene, still far from ecstatic about having been turned into a
knock down, drop dead gorgeous piece of feminine topography, responded
in a rather disgruntled fashion, "Yeah... I guess...  If... that is...
you say so, Ann..."

	"Well... I do say so, Gene!"

        Then, in a much more sympathetic tone of voice, Ann continued on
to add, "Look, Gene!  I'm no more happy with the current state of
affairs than you are! Given my durthers... I'd much rather things were
the way they used to be... y'know, before you went and got yourself
sucked into that new little Persian lamp of our's!

        "In other words, Gene: I'd much prefer you as the man you used
to be... y'know, rather than as this little sexpot of a number that
you've become!

        "However... since it's as you say... and there's not a damn
thing that either one of us can do to change you back into your former
manly self, Gene... the most advantageous thing you can do now is to try
and make the best out of a bad... if not... disastrous situation!

        "I mean... if you give this new life of your's half a chance,
Gene - Belive me! - you'll find that being a girl isn't as bad as that
male mind of your's is making it out to be!"

        "It isn't?", Gene, rendered incredulous by his wife's assertion,
felt near compelled to ask.

	"No!  It isn't... oh, femmified husband of mine!

        "I mean... I'm a girl and... if I do say so myself... I rather
enjoy being one!

        "And so can you!  You big lummox of a newly ensconced
dick-teaser, you!

        "If you can just ride rough shod over that bruised male ego of
your's long enough to get past all the ignominy involved in this initial
period of sexual disorientation of your's... you'll see, Gene!
Everything will iron itself out and before you know it, you'll be taking
all this girl-shit in your stride!

        "Besides, Gene... while I know it isn't going to be an easy
thing for you to come to terms with... if there's one thing I do know
for sure is: if you're going to lick this thing... you've got to stop
feeling sorry for yourself!  So... keeping that in mind - Please! - do
yourself a favor!  Try looking on the brighter side of things!"

        "You mean to tell me that there's a bright side to this mell of
a hess?", Gene sarcastically interjected.

	"Yes, Gene!  There most certainly is!

        "I mean... while you might not think so - Believe you me! - if
you just give being a girl half a chance... oh, femmified husband of
mine... you'll be pleasantly surprised to find out that there's a whole
parcel of bennies you can derive out of being a woman!"

        "Really!  Okay, happy bottom!  Name one!", Gene tersely
demanded.

        "Well... for instance, Gene... if it's really true what you say
about your sexual orientation still being as manly as it ever was -
Guess what!  - all you have to do to get a creep thrill and torque the
livin' shit out of that male libido of your's is to play a crass game of
'peek-a-boo... I see you' with that new and ultra sexy body that you've
been so ignominiously fitted out with.  And... if that turns you on...
and you find that you'd like to up the ante... all you have to do is to
do what you been doing to your newly feminized self all along!  Y'know,
as in: all you have to do to get off on yourself is to engage in a
little self targeted titty and twat tweaking!

        "And, Gene... take it from a certified, dyed in the wool, pillow
eater who knows - If you'll pardon the pun! - first hand... you've got
the fine art of titty and twat tweaking down pat!

        "And guess what... of, femmified husband of mine! Now that
you're a woman... you're multi-orgasmic! Plus... when it comes to sex...
you'll be happy to hear that your recuperation time... when compared to
what it use to be... y'know, like when you were a man... is... for all
practically purpose... almost nil!

        "In other words, Gene... as long as you don't go rubbing
yourself raw down there... you can indulge yourself to your heart's
content!  Y'know, as in: over... and over... and over again..."

        "Yeah...", Gene grudgingly replied.  "As loathed as I am to
admit this, Ann: you may have a point there.  I mean... if there' one
offsetting and perhaps, redeeming aspect to this sexual role reversal
debacle that I've up and inadvertently landed myself smack, dab, in the
friggin' middle of, that crass, autoeroticism shit you've just now
mentioned might well be it.

        "Fact is, honey... I've always been just a wee bit envious of
not only you... but... in a much broader sense... all womankind...
y'know, like whenever you and I made love."

        "You were, were you?", it was Ann's turn to respond
incredulously.

	"Yes, dear.  I'm afraid I was.

        "I mean... and don't you ever - Ever! - go thinking that I
didn't enjoy myself, Ann... y'know, cause I did - immensely - it just
that I always felt that the pleasure you derived... y'know, during our
love-making sessions... by far eclipsed that of my own.  And... though
I'm almost ashamed to admit this... even to you, Ann... y'know, given
how kinky and perverted it must surely sound... I've always wondered
what it would be like to experience sex from a woman's point of view."

        "Well... oh, femmified husband of mine... tell you what!
Tonight... right after we get back from the restaurant and what ever
else the two of us decide on doing... y'know, like possibly taking in
that movie you and I've been wanting to see... I think that you should
invest some time and find out what it's like to be a multi-orgasmic
female."

        "Ann!", Gene exclaimed.  "Are you suggesting what I think you're
suggesting?  Are you actually suggesting that I give myself... for a
lack of a better way to put this... a hand-job?"

        "I most certainly am, Gene!", Ann was emphatic. "And the sooner
you do so... the better!

        "I mean... while I might be so far off base that it isn't
funny... I really do believe that it would do you a world of good to
experience the sexual aspects of this new womanhood of your's A. S. A.
P., Gene. Y'know, as in: I think that a good, multi-orgasmic session...
even if it's out of necessity self induced... might... while not
eradicating all your... shall we call them - misgivings... y'know, that
you have about being female... such a session might give you a better
insight into some of the more pleasurable aspects of this new femininity
of your's, Gene!"

        Then, having paused to take a much needed breath, Ann continued
on to add, "You want to hear something that's not only crazy... but
absurd as well... oh, femmified husband of mine?"

	"Sure, dear... shoot!"

        "Y'know something, Gene... it's funny... but I find that I
almost wish I wasn't so averse to engaging in lesbian activities with
the new you.  I mean... if I could just get past these aversions of
mine... I think it would be a real hoot to do unto you as you have - on
so many numerous occasions - done unto me!

        "Let me tell you something, Ann!  It's a damn good thing that
you put the 'almost' in that last statement of your's!", Gene was quick
to point out. "If you hadn't employed that qualifier... I'm not sure
that I could have restrained myself from rubber- stamping what would
have been a bonafide wish otherwise!

        "I mean to tell you... oh, wifey of mine!  Given the lecherous
and disheveled state of this male oriented libido of mine... it more or
less goes without saying that you've really got to watch what you wish
for, Ann!

        "I mean... if you hadn't put that 'almost' in there... though I
loathed to admit this... given how balls to the walls horny I am right
now, Ann... who the hell knows!  In other words, dear... there's a
better than even chance that you would be a girl enamored dyke right
now!"

        "Oh, my!", Ann, upon the realization that she had come within a
hair's breath of becoming something that she abhorred, exclaimed.
"Damn!  You're right, Gene! I've really got to watch myself... given the
fact that a silly slip of the tongue on my part could really upset the
proverbial apple cart... couldn't it?"

        "Yes, dear...  it most certainly could!  Though I would like to
think that I wouldn't take advantage of you... y'know, should you
mis-speak yourself... y'know, in matters that directly relate to your
current sexual orientation... knowing... with a sheer and utter
certainty how much I would enjoy such a lesbian tete-a-tete with you...
I couldn't... in all honesty... promise you that I could... or would...
be able to restrain myself in the future.

        "So... given all of that, honey...  just to safeguard yourself
from becoming something that is so blatantly abhorrent to you... what I
would suggest is: that you make a wish... a wish I will be more than
happy to rubber-stamp... that will - in essence - preclude me from
processing such a poorly thought out and hastily spoken wish in the
future.

        "Tell you what, Ann!  Though I'm not holding out any hope that
this will ever happen... before you allow me to dicker around with your
sexual orientation... y'know, and turn you into a lesbian... let's
incorporate in this forthcoming wish of your's a stipulation that would
force me to seek a second, verbal clarification form you... y'know, just
to make doubly sure that you really want me to turn you into a
girl-lovin' dyke!

	"Alright?"

        Ann, seeing the merit of her feminized husband's most timely and
prudent suggestion, quickly agreed.

        "Yes!  That should do the trick nicely!  Now... Let's me think
about the wording of this wish of mine...

	"I know!  I know!

        "I wish... that before my sexual orientation can be altered into
that of a homosexual female... you must first obtain a second, verbal
conformation that states - unequivocally - that I really want you to
change me - your wife - into your lesbian lover!"

	"Granted."

	"Well?", Ann questioned.

	"Well... what, dear?"

        "Will that last wish of mine do the trick or not, Gene?"

        "Yes.  I do believe it will.", Gene replied. "Now... with that
safeguard in place... the only way you'll ever become a lesbian is if
you really want to become one, Ann."

        "Okay!  Now that all of that's taken care of... oh, femmified
husband of mine... given the fact that I missed out on lunch.... I'm as
hungry as all get out! So... I guess what I saying... in a round about
manner... is: can we please go out to eat now?

        "I mean... it's still early enough!  If we leave within the next
ten minutes or so.. maybe... if we're lucky... we might be able to beat
the evening rush. And if we can manage to do that... we might be able to
get seated at a booth.  And hopefully... if we can secure a booth...
y'know, that situated off to one side or another and therefore, off of
the beaten path... that... in and of itself... might go along way into
helping to allay some of your more pronounced misgivings about venturing
out in the public eye for the first time in that new and overtly sexy
body of your's.

        "Or... oh, femmified husband of mine... is there something else
we have to take care of before we head out?"

        "Well...", Gene began reluctantly, "...there is my lamp to
consider..."

        "Your lamp!", Ann was clearly mystified.  "I give, Gene!  Pray
tell!  Just what in hell does your lamp have to do with us and our going
out for the evening?"

        "Well...", Gene began tentatively.  "I'll grant you that there's
not much chance of this actually occurring, Ann...  but given the way
that persnickety law of Mr. Murphy's tends to work... especially in so
far as the two of us are concerned... if we leave the lamp here...
y'know, and go out for evening... there's always the possibility -
however remote and unlikely - that someone could break in to our house
and abscond with it.  And should that happen... since we're dealing with
a whole raft of technicalities here and possession is... as they say...
nine tenths of the law... guess what, hon!  This relationship of ours...
as convoluted and contrived as it may well be... would be... for all
practical purposes... over.  I'd end up with a new master... or
mistress... or whatever... and you - I'm sorry to say. - would be left
jinnless."

        "Oh, shit!  That's right!  You're tethered... in some mystical,
metaphysical way to that lamp... aren't you?"

        "Yes, Ann...  Though I wish it were otherwise... I'm afraid I
am.  Succinctly put: the lamp and I are inseparable!  Were it goeth!  I
goeth!"

        "Well... since you seem to be coming up with all the
solutions... oh, femmified husband of mine... and since it more or less
goes without saying that we're not about to take the risk of leaving
your lamp here at home... y'know, where it can get stolen out from under
us... please, Gene - I implore you! - tell me what we are going to do
about that lamp of your's?

        "I mean... there's got to be a better way to safeguard that lamp
of your's than for me to have to lug it around with me... y'know, like
whenever the two of us  venture out of the house together, Gene!

        "I mean... while it isn't heavy... after a while, it could
become more than a little bit cumbersome and therefore, a real pain in
the ass for me to have to deal with!

	"And that's only the half of it, Gene!

        "I mean... it's more or less a given that I'm going to look like
a real, certifiable, first class fruitcake... y'know, walking around in
public with a Persian lamp tucked up under my arm all the time!

        "So... oh, femmified husband of mine... my question is: what do
you suggest we do about it?"

        "Well...", Gene began.  "I do believe I have come up with the
perfect solution."

	"You have!", Ann was dubious.

	"Yes, dear... I do believe I have...

        "What I suggesting is, Ann: that you make a wish that will allow
me to re-size my lamp... y'know, so I can reduce it to the size of...
shall we say... a charm.  Then, once it's re-sized... I can whip up a
chain to hang on... y'know, so you can wear it around your neck.
Also... while we're at it... since you prefer silver jewelry over
gold... why don't you kill two birds with one stone by incorporating in
this wish of your's a directive that we allow me to change the brass
alloy of my lamp into sterling silver."

        "That's permissible?", Ann, intrigued, blurted out.

	"Yeah... Sure...  No problem!", Gene returned.

        "What about the hasp and the chain, Gene... y'know, given the
fact that both pose... shall we say... a potential hazard?

        "I mean... over the years... I can't tell you how many necklaces
I've lost... y'know, because either the hasp was faulty and came undone
or, the chain caught on something and subsequently broke!

        "I mean... we certainly don't want to take the risk of loosing
that lamp of your's, Gene... y'know, should something as simple as that
occur!  Now do we?"

	"No, dear...  We most certainly don't...

        "Tell you what, Ann!  Just to make doubly sure that something of
that nature doesn't happen... tell you what I'll do!  I'll just use
these new metaphysical powers of mine and make the chain unbreakable!
Plus, I'll make it one continuous loop.

        "Are you saying that the chain won't have a hasp, Gene?"

        "Exactly, Ann!  I mean... it more or less goes without saying
that if I don't incorporate a hasp... there won't be anything to come
undone!"

        "Well... if you do that... y'know, and don't incorporate a
hasp... oh, femmified husband of mine - Pray tell! - how am I ever going
to take the darn thing off?"

        "Hopefully, Ann... you won't be taking it off a whole hell of a
lot.  But... whenever you do find it necessary to remove it... you'll
just have to wish off... and then... when you want to re-don it... all
you'll just have to do is to wish it back on! Alright?"

        "Yeah... I guess so...", Ann, after a moment or so of quiet
introspection, thoughtfully replied as she proceed on to verbalize the
wish that would give her femmified husband the impetus he - as a newly
ensconced sheling - needed to bring about the changes that he - as a she
- had just prescribed.

        "Nice job, Gene!", Ann exclaimed, as she moved in closer to
their living room's newly mirrorized wall in order to admired her
femmified husband's handiwork. "It looks great!  And...", she continued
on in a somewhat dubiously tone of voice, "...you can really still use
it... y'know, with it being this small and all?"

        "Yes, Ann.  When it comes to my lamp... size doesn't matter one
way or the other.  I can still download my metaphysically digitalized
disembodied self into it.

	"Would you like to see me do it?", Gene offered.

        "No, Gene!  Not right now!  Now... before this stomach of mine
starts  growling to beat the band... what I'd really like to do is: get
going!

        "However... aren't you forgetting something... oh, femmified
husband of mine?"

        Bemused, Gene replied, "No... not that I'm aware of, dear..."

        "My necklace, Gene!  You've plume forgotten to provide yourself
with an exact duplicate of this new necklace of mine!"

	"I have... haven't I?"

	"Yes, Gene... you most certainly have!"

        "Alright!", Ann quipped.  "Since it appears that I still have to
do everything... y'know, around this house of ours'... I wish for you to
create an exact duplicate of this new necklace of mine and place it
about that very attractive and aristocratic neck of your's, Gene!"

	"Granted."

        And so it was.  Around Gene's neck hung a miniaturized version
of the necklace which adorned his wife.

        "Okay!  So... are we ready to go... or... is there something
else we need to attend to... oh, femmified husband of mine?"

	"Nothing comes to mind, Ann."

        "Good!  Just let me get my purse and then, we're out of here!

        "Oh!  That's right!  You don't have a purse, do you, Gene!"

	"No, hon... I sure don't."

        "Well... given the fact that you're a girl now... you're sure as
shootin' going to need one!  So... I wish for you to provide yourself
with an exact duplicate of my purse... y'know, and equipped it with a
wallet and all the appropriate paraphernalia that we girls like to carry
around in one!  Alright?"

	"Ann...."

	"Yes, Gene..."

	"Question..."

	"Yes..."

        "What do you suggest I do about my ID, Ann?  I mean... if I'm
supposed to be your twin sister... my current ID certainly isn't going
to cut it!"

	"When you're right, Gene... you're right!

        "Now that you've become what you've become... I guess the only
option that we have available to us is for you to magically create a
whole new persona for yourself... y'know, as a female."

	"Any suggestions, Ann?"

        "Well... for the time being, Gene... unless of course, you've
already come up with another name that... I guess you could say...
tickles that non- femmified fancy of your's... oh, jinnified husband of
mine... you can always retain your given name. However... should you
elect to do so... I suggest you start spelling it: J... E... A... N...
y'know, instead of G... E... N... E...  Y'know, if... that is... that's
alright with you?"

        "Sure, Ann.  Jean.... spelled: J... E... A... N... suits me just
fine for now... y'know, just as long as you don't start adding a N...
I... E... onto the end of it!

        "In other words, Ann... I don't want to start playing your own,
personalized version of I Dream of Jeannie to your feminine version of
Major Anthony Nelson!  Alright?"

        "Sure, Jean!  If you don't want me calling you Jeannie... that's
just fine by me!

        "Besides... given the fact that I've had the occasion to know a
couple of Jeannies in my time... you'd best believe... given my
druthers... I rather not have you reminding me of any of 'em!"

        "Okay, Ann... that takes care of my first name. What about my
sir name... y'know, since I can't be a Renyolds anymore."

        "And just why can't you be a Renyolds any longer, Jean?"

        "Because, Ann... if we do end up opting for this identical twin
sister business... there's no way in hell we can both be Renyolds...
y'know, given the fact that Renyolds is your married name!

        "Again, Jean... when you're right... you're right!  We can't
both be Renyolds!

        "Though I know it's going to take some fast talking on our
parts, Jean... y'know, to fully convince my parents that this twin
thing-of-a-ma-bob of our's is the most viable option that we could come
up with... y'know, what with all that's happened today... y'know, with
you and your having been turned into a femme fatale of a magic wielding
genie and all... I do believe... in my heart of hearts... that when push
comes to shove... they'll be more than happy to take you on as their
daughter and my long lost twin sister.

        "So... even if it's only for tonight, Jean... you might as well
use my maiden name?"

        "Walker... Jean Walker... ", Jean experimented with how it
sounded.

	"Okay, Ann!  Jean Walker it is!"

        "Alright!  I wish for you to provide yourself with the
appropriate identification in the name of Jean Lesslie Walker."

	"Lesslie?", Jean question.

        "Yes!  Lesslie!  I was named after my great grandmother... if
you recall... oh, femmified husband of mine!  And if Lesslie is good
enough for me... as my twin sister... you best believe that it's good
enough for you as well!"

	"Okay, dear...  If you insist..."

	"I do!"

	"Granted."

        "Okay!", Ann proclaimed.  "That takes care of that!  Now... can
we please go?"

	"I can't talk you out of this, Ann?"

	"No!  You can't!"

        "Well... since you're adamant about us going out together
tonight, Ann... tell me something..."

	"What?', Ann countered tersely.

        "Now that I'm a woman too... who's driving?  Me or you?"

	"You are... you big ninny!

        "Remember... oh, femmified husband of mine... while you might be
a woman now... y'know, fitted out with the same sort sexual equipment
that I possess... I still consider you my husband!  And in this
household, Jean... save on rare occasions... the husband does the
majority of the driving!"


* * *


        As the newly feminized and magically empowered Jean Lesslie
Walker gentlemanly opened the front door of their house so that his
identical twin of a wife could proceed him, he - as the she that he had
so tragically and underhandedly become, quipped, "Well... oh, little
wifey of mine... here goes nothing!"

        "Buck up, Jean!  Remember... there are only two people in this
whole wide world who know the truth of the matter!  Me and you!
Everyone else will take you for what appear to be!  An exquisitely
beautiful girl!  Nothing more!  Nothing less!

        "I mean... even though you claim that this new body of your's is
still motivated by a thoroughly manly aspiring mind, Jean... there's no
way in hell that anyone would ever suspect that you weren't born to this
new womanhood of your's!

        "I mean... even though this is your very first time contending
with high heels, Jean... there's no denying the fact that you walk just
like a woman is supposed to walk!  Furthermore, you talk just like a
woman is supposed to talk!  Y'know... as in: your inflections are that
of a woman!  And more importantly... though you might tend to think
otherwise... take it from me, Jean... your mannerism are those of a very
self-assured and confident woman!

        "In other words... oh, femmified husband of mine... there is
nothing - Absolutely nothing! - in this new demeanor of your's that
would... in any way, shape or form... cause anyone to ever suspect that
you were once a man!"

	"Yeah... but...", Jean begrudgingly countered.

	"Yeah... but nothing, Jean!

        "Frankly...", Ann lowered the boom, "I'm getting sick and tired
of you and these mealy-mouthed attempts of your's to try and persuade me
to change my mind about the two of us going out together this evening!
Look, Jean!  I don't want to hear any more of your shit!    We're going!
And that's final!

        "So... unless you want me to do something rash... something
that'll... I guess you could say... compound those ill founded
misgivings of your's...  I strongly urge you to cease and desist and
adopt... shall we say... a grin and bear it attitude!  Else wise... if
you persist in these lame objections of your's... mark my word, Jean...
I swear: If you keep it up... I just might make a  wish that'll deck you
out in one of those skimpy, highly revealing, dick-teaser specials that
you're always going all ape-shit over!

        "In other words, Jean... if you don't knock off your bitching...
you'll force me into making a wish that'll have you looking like some
low-life hooker in heat!"

        "Ann!", Jean, horrified, exclaimed, You wouldn't! You couldn't!"

	"I would... and I could!

        "So... if I hear one more discouraging word from you about our
going out together for the evening, Jean... make no never mind about it!
You'll end up being one sorry little brazen hussy of a genie... if ever
there was one!"

        Then, keenly aware that she might have come down on her herified
husband a smidgen or two to harshly, Ann, in a much more conciliatory
tone of voice, tried to smooth things over as she proceeded on to say,
"Jean!  Please!  If I came down on you a little hard just now... believe
me!  I'm sorry!  I didn't mean it the way it might have sounded!

        "I mean... though you might not think so... I'm on your side in
this, Jean!  Believe me!  I only want what's best for you!  And you know
as well as I do... sooner or later... you're going to have to tackle
this going out in public business... y'know, decked out in this new,
female body of your's...

        "And you know as well as I do, Jean... the longer you put it
off... the harder it's going to be for you to cope to with it... y'know,
like when push comes to shove and you find yourself forced... for some
reason or another... into doing so!"

        Jean, though he - as a she - did so grudgingly, acknowledged the
truth contained in Ann's preceding remarks.  "Yeah...  You're right,
Ann.  While I complete agree with you... y'know, about how my postponing
the inevitable won't do me a damn bit of good in the long run... you've
got to understand that my going out in public... y'know, looking like I
do now... isn't something that I... in any way, shape or form... relish
doing."

        "No... I don't imagine that you would, Jean.", Ann
sympathetically concurred.  "I mean... if the situation was reversed...
and it had been me who had been turned into a male genie... I would
probably be even more reluctant than you are... y'know, about venturing
out of the house for the first time as a card carrying member of the
opposite sex!"

        "However...", Ann continued, "...knowing fully well how
distraught you must surely be, Jean... y'know, given this disastrous and
distressing thing that has happened to you... the way I figure it... the
best thing you can do under these rather convoluted set of circumstances
that we find ourselves smack, dab in the friggin' middle of... is to:
take the proverbial bull by the horns and just go out and get it over
with!  Y'know, and there by be done with it... y'know, in one fell
swoop!

        "Besides, Jean... if we're going to follow through with what we
said we were going to do tomorrow... y'know, in so far as running out to
see our respective parents... y'know, so that we can fill 'em in on
everything that's transpire today... and then, proceed on to obtain
their approval... however grudgingly that approval of their's might
be... for this identical twin/living together option that we're
contemplating...  guess what!  You're going to have to go out then!
So... the way I figure it, Jean... in order to reduce... or... shall we
say... minimize all the hassles involved in dealing with things that...
given your druthers... you'd really rather not have to deal with... when
and wherever possible... you need to tackle them one at a time!  And
going out with me tonight present you with the perfect opportunity to
get one of your chief concerns out of the way... y'know, clearing the
way for you to address other matters... y'know, as they crop up to bite
you on that new and provocative derriere of your's!"

        "I hate to admit this, Ann.  Your logic is damn near flawless.
You're right!  Tonight presents me with the perfect opportunity to make
my first foray out in public as a woman.  Trouble is... while I might
look like a woman... not to mention... act like a woman... I feel like
some sort of frickin' transvestite... y'know, all gussied up like I am!"

        "But you're not a transvestite, Jean!  If you're anything...
you're the purest type of transsexual there has ever been!  Y'know,
given the fact that... anatomical speaking... you're now as much of a
woman as I am!

        "Tell you what... oh, femmified husband of mine! I may just have
hit on something that might go a long way in helping you deal with all
the ignominy that you're feeling!

        "And what - Pray tell! - might this idea of your's be, Ann?",
Jean dubiously inquired.

        "Remember a couple years or so ago, Jean... when you and I went
to Bud and Jessie's Halloween Party... you thought it was a real hoot to
go decked out as a big breasted girl!

        "Hell, Jean... once we got there... and you got a couple of
beers under your belt... if my recollection servers me right... which I
assure you it does... you really got into playing the part of a girl on
the make... now didn't you?  I mean... for awhile there... you were
flirting with every swinging dick that came within an arm's reach of
you!  And don't tell me you weren't!  Y'know, because you were!  And you
know you were!

        "Well...", Jean was slow to admit, "It was a Halloween party,
honey..."

        "True...  And you know and I know that you were just getting
into the spirit of the evening... but if you could do it then... my
contention is: you can do it now!"

        "But, Ann...", Jean tersely interjected, "This is different
matter altogether!  I mean... it isn't Halloween!  And furthermore...
this girl-crappolla of mine is anything but a masquerade now!"

        "True!", Ann readily concurred.  "But, Jean... if it'll help you
deal with the ignominy that seems to be doing a real number on that
manly mind of your's... I strongly suggest that you  try pretending that
it is Halloween... and that once again... the costume you've selected
for yourself is that of a woman's!

        "Maybe... just maybe... if you try pretending that you're a
guy... pretending to be a girl... you might be able to placate that
crotchety old male ego of your's!"

        "Ann...", Jean, in spite of his herified self, found his
herified self chuckling as he - as a newly ensconced she - replied,
"...did you hear yourself just now?

        "Do you really think that something as ludicrous as what you
just suggested is going to work?"

	"No...", Ann admitted, "...not really..."

        "Good!  I'm glade to hear that, dear!  Y'know, because if you
did... I've got this nifty downhill ski resort located right in the
heart of the mountainous region of the Florida Everglades that I was
hoping to palm off on some unsuspecting and naive buyer!"

        "Tell you what, Jean... as soon as we get to the restaurant...
the first thing we'll do is to get a couple of Pina Coladas into you!

        "Maybe... just maybe... once we get a little liquor into your
system... you'll be in a much more conduce state of mind to... shall we
say... kick back and sort of go with the flow...

        "Hell, Jean... once the liquor kicks in - Who knows! - you might
actually find yourself taking a little perverse pleasure... y'know,
being one of the ogled... y'know, instead of one of the oglers!"

        "That's doubtful...", Jean replied, as he - as the amply endowed
and smart attired she that he had so innocently and unwittingly become -
acting in the role of gentleman he could no longer lay claim to being,
dutifully unlocked and proceeded on to open the passenger-side door of
his pickup for his body double of a wife.


* * *


        "Shit!", Jean expounded as he positioned his herified self
behind the wheel of his pick-up truck. "Wouldn't you just know it!  I've
got to re-adjust my seat!  Even with these friggin' high heel demi-boots
on... given this re-vamped and down-sized body that that lamp of mind
saddled me with... I can just barely reach the accelerator... much less
the brake and the clutch peddles!"

        Then, as her femmified husband began to re- position his seat,
Ann took the opportunity to clarify something that she deemed needed
clarification.

	"Jean..."

        "Yes, dear...", Jean replied as he - as the she that he had been
turned into - slid the seat that his scintillating derriere was so
succulently caressing forward a full three notches.

        "While I fully appreciate the gentlemanly curtsey of you opening
the door for me... y'know, like you always have... from now on out,
Jean... it might be best were you to discontinue that practice...
y'know, because that's not the sort of thing one woman does for another
woman.

        "Also... while I'm thinking about... we both really need to
watch how we address one another in the future."

        "We do?", Jean, who had moved on to re-adjust the pick-up's
mirrors, returned somewhat distractedly.

        "Yes, Jean... I'm sad to say: we do!  Though I know that it's
going to be an up hill battle for the both of us... we've got to get out
of the habit of using all those little endearments that we've become so
accustomed to using... y'know, like - for instance - dear and honey...
y'know, because it wouldn't be... I think the term I'm looking for is:
seemly - y'know, for us to continue using 'em."

        "Alas, Ann... I do believe you're right on that account...
especially so given the prevailing, though perverse, new age McCarthyism
of political correctness that's permeated this decadent and severely
decaying society of ours'... y'know, that's blatantly Un- american...
y'know, in and of itself... y'know, given how it stifles our First
Amendment right to free speech!

        "I mean... if we're ever going to find solutions to some of the
problems that we're facing... we're going to have to be able to frankly
and openly discuss 'em... y'know, and not have to fret about who's
feathers are being ruffled when we engage in doing so!"

	"Jean!", Ann cut in.

	"Yes..."

        "Don't you think you have more than enough on your plate to
concern yourself with right now... y'know, what with you and your being
turned into a female genie and all?  I mean... while it's true that all
this shit that's going on in this country of ours' is of extreme
importance... and I wholeheartedly agree with you, Jean... that it's
every citizen's responsibility to do whatever they can to get us back on
the right track... I really think that... given all that's occurred
today... you have earned yourself... I think it's fair to say... a
dispensation... y'know, from concerning yourself with that sort of
depressing stuff... y'know, for at least the next serval weeks or so...

        "In other words, Jean... since I feel pretty much the same way
about what's going on in this country of ours' as you do - Please!  -
since you'd be more or less preaching to the choir... let's loose that
soapbox of yours'!  Alright?"

        "Sorry about that, Ann!  Damned if  my out of vogue sense of
patriotism didn't go and get the best me once again!

        "Tell you what... though I'm not going to promise you that I
won't have a relapse... y'know, because that's well within the realm of
possibility... y'know, should we chance to hear something on the news
that... I guess you could say... tic's me off royally... I'll try to do
my very best to keep myself reigned in. Alright, Ann?"

        "That's all I'm asking you to do, Jean.  Just give it a rest for
awhile.

        "Then... once you get past this initial acclamation phase that
you're going through... y'know, and are more comfortable with being a
female than you are presently... you have my permission to sound off as
much you want to, Jean!

        "I mean... it's a real shame that I can't make a few
humanitarian wishes... y'know, to right the wrongs of the world!  I
mean... if I could... do you know what I'd like to wish for first,
Jean?"

        "No, Ann... I haven't the foggiest notion as to what you might
want to wish for...   So... tell you what... instead of me having to
play a long, drawn out game of twenty questions... why don't you just
cut to the chase and enlighten me!"

        "Well... if I could make a few all encompassing, humanitarian
couched  wishes... one of those wishes would be to force our elected
representatives... both local, state-wide and national... to not only
not lie to us... but... in addition to that... I'd fix it so that they'd
have to live up to their oaths of office... y'know, as I'd make 'em tow
the line!


* * *


        'Damn!  What in the hell were you thinking about, girl?', Ann
mentally chided herself.  'That was a really bonehead thing for you to
do!  For the very first time since that confounded lamp that he's
somehow metaphysically tethered to regurgitated him back out as the
stunning sheling that he has so inadvertently become, Jean's mind was on
something other than the predicament imposed upon him by this new
femininity of his!

        'And what did you do?  You - very foolishly - put the kibosh on
that!

        'Now... if you don't come up with something else... y'know, and
fast... he's going to revert right back to pondering this lamp induced
dilemma of his!'

        "Jean...", Ann, hoping that she may have hit upon something that
might have a chance of providing a much sought after distraction, broke
the brooding silence.

	"Yes..."

        "If I remember correctly... you really like that new BMW
two-seater roadster... y'know, the very same one that they used in the
Bond flick Goldeneye... don't you?"

        "Yes, Ann... I think it's pretty nifty looking little car.",
Jean replied matter-of-factly.

        "Well... oh, femmified husband of mine... how would you like to
be driving one... y'know, instead of this clunky old pick-up of your's?

	"That'd be neat!"

        "Alright, then... once we get out of our development... I
suggest you take the back way over to the restaurant.  Then, Jean...
once you get to a secluded strip of road... y'know, with... shall we
say... woods on both sides... my wish if for you to change this pick-up
of your's into one of those spiffy BMW two-seaters?"

	"Alright...  Pray tell.  What color, Ann?"

        "I'll leave that decision in your capable hands, Jean.
Alright?"

	"Top up?  Top down?"

        After a moment or two of indecision, Ann said, "Well... since I
can always make a wish for you to tidy up this hair of ours'... y'know,
once we get there... and since it's a beautiful day... let's live a
little and go with the top down option!"

        "Yeah... let's!", Jean, anticipating the fun he - as a she -
would have putting the BMW through its' paces, replied energetically, if
not eagerly.
 

* * *


        Much to Jean's surprise, the time the two of them spent at the
restaurant went a whole hell of a lot better than he - as the sultry
femme fatale that he had become - had ever thought that it would.
Thanks to Ann's presence of mind, not to mention, her cajoling, they had
managed to arrive well before the dinner rush-hour crowd descended upon
the place and therefore, early enough to secure a fairly secluded booth;
in the back, located near the corridor which granted access to the
public restrooms.  Now, while it was true that it was an unsettling
experience for Jean to have to contend with, once Ann got a couple of
Pina Coladas into his herified system, Jean, though he - as a she -
could never quite shake the feeling that he and his look alike wife were
the focal point of damn near everyone's attention, began to loosen up a
smidgen or two.

        Before arriving, by mutual accord, while they were still
motoring along in the BMW two-seater, Jean and Ann had agreed that it
would be best were they to steer clear of any conversations that
pertained - even remotely - to either Jean's sexual re-alignment or his
new found jinnhood; knowing, with a sheer and utter certainty, that it
would do neither of them any good were someone to inadvertently overhear
them talking about such seemingly nonsensical subjects.  However, both
found that it was darn near impossible to avoid straying onto such
subject matter.  Every now and again, one or the other of them would
slip up and make some remake or other which referenced Jean's new status
in life and before either one was even aware of it, damned if they
weren't off on a tangent, exploring some new wrinkle of their
drastically re-defined relationship.

        Besides all the unwanted attention that his most bodacious body
was garnishing for him, Jean had another rather pressing problem to deal
with.  He - or rather - the licentious male ego that was housed within
that heavenly re-vamped body that that Persian lamp of his had fitted
him out with, was as horny as all get-out.

        Though there were many contributing factors, Ann was the root
cause of Jean's surging sense of unbridled horniness.

        Even though Jean, prior to his lamp invested shedom, had always
found his wife extremely attractive, once he - as the female jinn that
he had so ignominiously and underhandedly become - had processed the
wish that had resulted in Ann's magical make-over, given the fact that
Jean had used his own idealized version of the perfect femme fatale as a
template for Ann's physical upgrading, Jean found that his male libido
was piqued to its' upper thresholds by the new, improved, ultra
seductive and overtly sensual version of his mistress/wife's corporal
disposition.

        In other words, Jean's male oriented, dirty old man aspiring
libido was smitten as all get-out with Ann's new body and, try as he, as
a she, might, Jean found that he couldn't take his herified eyes off of
his wife upper torso and impishly angelic face.  While that staunchly
male mind of his was chomping away at the bit to have his lewd and
lascivious way with his lamp-mistress slash identical twin of a wife,
Jean's newly feminized bod of a most bodacious body was responding to
his surging horniness in a manner that was extremely troubling to him
and yet, in another sense, both excruciatingly pleasurable and intensely
enticing.

        Though he - as a she - was keenly and demoralizingly aware of
the fact that he lacked the appropriate sexual equipment to facilitate
his being able to accomplish the act of copulation with his wife, Jean,
in the worst friggin' way imaginable, very much wanted to take his
nonexistent you-know-what of an outty and vigorously plunge it deep
inside of Ann's you-know-where of a delicately and deliciously
sculptured honey pot of an inny.

        Trouble was, as he sat there, with the booth's table filling the
intervening space between the object of his male crazed lust and his
herified self, Jean became very cognizant of the fact that his own newly
installed you-know-where of a delicately and deliciously re-sculptured
honey pot of an inny was vicariously responding to the raging sense of
horniness that had fermented, in what he, as a she, took to be an
extremely masochistic and malevolent manner, within the crucible of his
thoroughly manly libido.  So too, were those damnable, upwardly re-
sensitized tits of his herified physiognomy responding in a sexually
stimulated manner.  Mimicking the penis Jean could no longer lay claim
to, both of his tits had, what he could only describe as,
mini-erections. To put it bluntly, those baby-suckling certified nipples
of Jean's herified physique were both primed and ready; not to mention,
desirous of being fondled and titillated in the worst friggin' way
imaginable. And as a direct result of his becoming all hot and bothered,
Jean, to his utter chagrin and dismay, found that once again, his newly
installed honey pot of an inny was leaking love juices like a sieve;
soaking the livin' shit out the blue jeans and satin panties he was
wearing in the process.

        Jean, though it took one hell of a lot of will power and
self-restraint on his herified part, managed - by hook or by crook - to
keep his emasculated, long nailed and well manicured hands from straying
to close to those two ample endowments of his femmified form. Time and
again, all throughout his and his wife's sojourn at the restaurant, he,
as the she that the lamp had turned him into, had to fight hard against
the omnipresent impulses that entreated him, as a her, to reach up and
delicately cradle and massage those magnificent chest protrusions that
had been so contemptuously imposed upon him.

        Regrettable, when it came to the omnipresent entreatments that
radiated outward from the clitoral epicenter of his all to recently
feminized being, Jean didn't fair nearly as well.  Though he, here again
as the sheling that he had so nefariously become, did so sparingly,
given the fact that he could oblige those crassly couched impulses of
his clandestinely, every now and again, one or another of hands' middle
finger would extend itself downward from his lap and, once fully
extended, it would begin to slowly, teasingly and lovingly trace its'
way upward along the swath of his all to recently femmified loins;
inducing - if you will - some very alien and yet, immensely intriguing,
if not erotic, sexual shivers as it did os.
	
        'Damn it all to hell and back!', Jean internally fumed, as he
examined and re-examined the sexually induced conundrum that he found
his physically herified self embroiled within.

	'This is ludicrous!  Absolutely ludicrous!

        'Here I am!  A friggin' cunt!  And all I can think of doing is:
taking my pecker... a pecker I no longer possess - Damn it all to hell
and back! - and plunging it deep up inside of the well lubricated
confines of my wife's snug little pussy!

        'Trouble is, shithead...', Jean continued on to mentally
castigate his on own herified self, '...thanks to that so and so of a
lamp that I've innocently and inadvertently gone and gotten somehow
metaphysically tethered to... Ann's not the only one of us who's pussy
equipped!

        'I mean... this is utterly ridiculous!  No matter how hard I
try... I keep thinking of myself as the humper!  Trouble is: this
friggin' new body of my is reacting like I'm some sort of nymphed-out
humpette!


* * *


        Throughout the evening, Jean, consumed as he, as a newly
conscripted sheling was with his own sexual identity induced dilemma,
remained completely oblivious to the fact that his body double of a wife
had her own problems to deal with.

        Though Ann Renyolds vigorously endeavored to make the best out
of a bad, if not deplorable situation, by enjoying the livin' shit out
of her substantially up- graded, Grecian goddess-like physique and the
very noticeable, hand and glove like admiration that her substantially
up-grade, Grecian goddess-like physique was garnishing for her, she
found that as the evening wore on, she was having an increasingly more
difficult time trying to come to terms with some very unsettling and
persnickety re-occurring memories.  If you recall, that afternoon, Ann,
in a rather foolhardy effort to gain further insight into her husband's
rather convoluted and mind boggling predicament, had made a very
foolish, ill conceived and hastily spoken wish. Unaware of what she was
getting herself into, Ann had made a wish that allowed her to view life
from her femmified husband's rather disconcerting and sexually
discombobulating perspective.  And though Ann had only shared her
hubby's male-minded, female-physiqued outlook on life for the briefest
of fleeting moments, needless to say, given the fact that she was a dyed
in the wool heterosexual woman, who never once in her life entertained
even so much as a spurious and short lived homosexually couched thought,
that befuddling and ignominious experience had done a real number on her
staunchly heterosexual psychic.

        No matter how hard she tried - And you'd best believe that Ann
Renyolds gave it everything she had and them some! - she couldn't manage
to purge the memory of how she, as a direct result of that inadvertent
and hastily spoken wish of her's, had lusted, in a very manly, if not
crude and perhaps, brutish way, to poop that newly installed cherry that
was nestled so snugly and so smartly within the satin confines of her
husband's re-sexualized loins.  The very notion that she had briefly
entertained the ardent desire to hump the livin' shit out of her
femmified genie of a husband distressed her to no end.

        All throughout the night, whenever she was assaulted by such
crassly couched and personally abhorrent memories, Ann had to keep
reminding herself that she wasn't a lesbian!  Didn't want to be a
lesbian!  And that those particular lesbian-like memories of her's were
nothing more than some horrendous and horrific fluke and not, as she
dearly hope and prayed, indicative of some latent and long repress
homosexual urges.

        Trouble was, while she was repulsed by those very
uncharacteristic memories of her's, Ann found that she was, in a very
strange and perverse sort of way, intrigued by them as well.


* * *


        As soon as their coquettish, college aged waitress passed out of
earshot, Jean leaned forward and as the upwardly arching under-carriage
of those magnificent, attention garnishing, twin chest protrusions of
his herified physique brushed across the lip of table he, as a she, was
seated at, he quitely intoned, "Ann."

        Aware that her femmified husband actions clearly communicated
the fact that he desired to keep the ensuing conversation as private as
possible, Ann mimicked Jean's prior actions and brought her face within
a few inches of a visage that was the carbon copy of her own.

        "Yes, Jean...", Ann, her voice registering just a few decibels
above that of a whisper, responded covertly.
	
	"Could I prevail upon you to do me a big favor?"

	"Sure... if I can... I'd be delighted to, Jean."

        "What I'd liked you to do is... I guess you could say... empower
me... y'know, via a wish... to be able to use my magical abilities to
take care of a few... what you might call... personal needs of mine."

        "And just what kind of personal needs might that be, Jean?",
Ann, who's curiosity had gotten the better of her, asked a little louder
than was either necessary or, as far as Jean was concerned, appreciated.

        "Like... you know...", Jean returned sheepishly, hoping, with a
sheer and utter hope, that his wife would get the implied message that
he, as the enchantingly embodied sexpot of a sheling that he had so
unwittingly become as a result of trying to remove the tarnish from that
new Persian lamp of their's, didn't want to have to elaborate on the
matter any more than he absolutely had to.

	"No, Jean!  I don't know!

        "Look!  Before I give you carte blanche to magically attend to
whatever it is you want to attend to, I want you to tell me what you
want and why you want it!  Else wise... oh, hubby of mine... you can
pack sand... y'know, up that pert and perky derriere of your's!"

        "Ann!", Jean implored.  "Come on!  Cut me some slack here!
Alright?"

        "No, Jean...  It's not alright!  You've peeked my curiosity!
And before I do as you ask... I'd really like to know what all this is
in reference to!"

        "Well...", Jean began reluctantly, "...if you really must know
what all this is about, Ann... I'll tell you."

	"Please do."

        It's my crotch!  It's sopping, ringing wet!  And because it
is... not only are the panties I'm wearing thoroughly soaked... but so
to are the jeans that you've seen fit to have me prance around in!"

        "How come?  Did you pee yourself or something, Jean?

        "No, Ann!  I didn't pee myself!," vexed with the notion that his
wife would make such a suggestion, Jean countered with more than a hint
of ire clearly conveyed in that exquisitely sexy, honey sweeten voice of
his.

        "Well if you didn't pee yourself, Jean - Pray tell! - why are
you wet down there?"

        "Well if you must know, Ann!  It's this friggin' new vagina of
mine!  It's leaking love-juices like a sieve!"

        "How come?", Ann asked without thinking.  Then, before Jean
could enlighten her, Ann logiced it out for herself.  "Oh!  My poor...
poor hubby...  Your still horny, aren't you?"

        "Horny isn't the word for it, Ann!  I so freakin' far beyond
horny it isn't funny!

        Irregardless of the fact that I have the same friggin' knocked
down, dragged out body that you have, Ann... y'know, that fairly gushes
with unbridled sex appeal... when you consider the fact that this mind
of mine is still as friggin' manly as it ever was... don't you think
that it's a pretty safe bet to assume that that new and improved body of
your's is doing a real number on this frickin' libido of mine!

        "I mean...  the way you look right now, Ann... physically...
you're everything I've always wanted in a woman!  I mean... you got the
most angelic face I've ever seen and a body that won't friggin' quit!

        "Trouble is, Ann... given the fact that your my exact body
double... I the friggin' woman I've always wanted as well!

        "My poor baby...", Ann empathized.  "I wish there was something
I could do to help you!"

        "Alright, then...  though it'll only be a temporary fix.. how
about you making a wish that would at least make it possible for me to
use my magical abilities to dry these jeans and panties of mine out...
y'know, like whenever I deem it necessary, Ann!"

        Perplexed, Ann inquired, "But can't just go ahead and do that
now, Jean?  I mean... why should you need my permission to attend to
that sort of thing in the first place?"

        "No, Ann.  I'm afraid I can't attend to that sort of thing on my
own."

	"Why not?"

        "Because of a rather persnickety and convoluted technicality.

        "May I remind you, Ann... you have chosen to retained autonomous
control over my clothing.  So... because of that little fly in the old
ointment... the way this jinnhood of mine works... as crazy as it might
sound... I find that I am strictly prohibited from finagling around
with... I guess you could say... the finished product of whatever
clothing choice you have selected for me to be garbed in.

        "In other words, Ann... when it comes to any apparel I might be
wearing... y'know, as a result of one of your wishes... you retain sole
jurisdiction.

        "So... since I can't do a darn think about this horniness of
mine... which means that it's a fairly safe assumption that this new
crevasse crease of mine is going to continue to leak... y'know, like ad
infinitum... if I'm going to get any relieve at all... y'know, from all
of the wetness I'm contending with down there... basically... the way I
see it... it comes down to is this, Ann!  On one hand, you can make a
wish and grant me the ability to attend to the wetness myself.  On the
other hand, you can do it for me... y'know, via a wish.  However, Ann...
if you elect to go that route... be forewarned: I'll probably be hitting
you up to do so... y'know, like over and over and over again... y'know,
throughout the whole, entire evening.  And then there's is always a
third option available to you."

	"There is?", Ann, bemused, interjected

        "There sure is...", Jean quickly pointed out. "You can simply
elect to do nothing... y'know, and there by: let me stew in my own
juices... so to speak!"

        Ann, fully aware that the crotch-dampness that Jean was
experiencing on an ongoing and omnipresent bases was only adding insult
to injury, asked her herified husband if he, as a she, would be so kind
as to please phrase the wish for her.  Jean, happily complied and Ann,
without any additional hesitation on her part, made the wish that her
herified husband sought.


* * *


	"Ann..."

	"Yes, Jean..."

	"Tell me something...

        "Is it just me... or have there been an unusually large number
of guys availing themselves of the men's room?"

        "You know something, Jean...  Now that you mention it... I do
believe that you might be right. And I whole heartily agree.  There
certainly does seem to be a lot of traffic trucking by this booth of
ours'."

	"Thought so!"

        "Fact is, Jean... I do believe that one guy has come by us at
least twice in the last half an hour."

        "If it's the same guy I'm thinking about... a guy who's wearing
jeans, some badly scuffed up cowboy boots and a rather ill fitting
pullover sweater... I make it three times, Ann!  And it wasn't in the
last half an hour!  Rather... it was in the last fifteen minutes!

        "Do you thing he's scooping us out... oh, twin sister of mine?",
Ann inquired sarcastically.

 	"Indubitable, Ann!  Indubitable!"


* * *


	A few minutes later, "Ann..."

	"Yes, Jean..."

	"Question..."

	"Sure...  Shoot!"

        "How are we going to handle it when - and not if - we are faced
with a situation where some guy - or guys - starts coming on to us...
y'know, trying to pick us up or something?"

        In an effort to pull her femmified husband's chain, Ann
sheepishly replied, "Are you inferring that a pretty, unattached, single
girl like you doesn't want to be picked up by some nice young man,
Jean?"

	"Bite your tongue, Ann!  Bit your tongue...

	"Look!  I'm being serious here, Ann!

        "Having never been a freakin' girl before, Ann... it more or
less goes without saying that I have absolutely no friggin' idea how to
handle that kind of situation!"

        "Well...", Ann was quick to point out, "...neither have I, Jean!

        "Remember!  It's been quite a few years now since either you or
I have been a members in good standing of the dating scene!  And due to
that rather pertinent fact... given all the raft of political
correctness that's so prevalent now a days... things may have
drastically change... oh, femmified husband of mine!

        "I mean... you and I have been together since what?  Our
freshman year in college!  And that's gotta be... at least a good
fifteen years or so ago!

        "I other words, Jean... I'm so out of practice... it isn't
funny!"

        "Well...", Jean countered, "... while you might be a little out
of practice, Ann... you've got to remember something!  I'm a friggin'
neophyte at this girllie-whirllie shit!  And more to the point!  While
I'll grant you that I might appear to all the world to be the focal
point of some swinging dick's wet dream come to life... make no never
mind about it, Ann! Irregardless of this built like a brick shithouse
body that I've been so ignominiously and underhandedly fitted out
with... I still think of myself as the man I can no longer lay claim to
being!

        "So, Ann... I guess what I'm saying is: when it comes to men and
how we are going to handle 'em... y'know, when they try to put the
friggin' make on us... y'know, which... given the way the two of us
look... it's more a question of when and not if... since I haven't the
foggiest notion as to how to deal such situations... tell you what I
going to do!  I going to let you handle 'em!

        "Y'know... as In: I'm going to defer to you when and wherever
possible!"

        "You are... are you?", Ann good naturally scoffed.

	"Yes, Ann... I am!"

        Teasingly, Ann Renyolds proceeded on to say, "Maybe you ought to
reconsider doing that, Jean."

        Puzzled, Jean asked, "And just why would I want to do that,
Ann?"

        "Because, Jean... I could get all flustered and say something on
the order of: '...while I'm not interested...' y'know, in striking up a
relationship, '...my twin sister here might well be.  In fact..', I
could go on to inform the guy, '... that my sister has been sitting
here... bending my ear... telling me how much of a stud she thinks you
are... and how much she'd like to go out with you...'."

	"Ann!  You wouldn't!  You couldn't!"

        "No!  Fear not, Jean!  Though I'd be severely tempted... y'know,
in a perverse and perverted sort of way... there's no way I would ever
do something like that to you!

        "However... if you put the onus on me to deal with those kinds
of situations... it would serve you right if I did... y'know, just to
teach you and that pert little new tush of your's a lesson!"

        "Alright, Ann... I promise: I'll do whatever I can to help...
y'know, because there's no way I want to ever be pawed or manhandled by
one these egotistical, god's-gift-to-women kind of anal retentive
so-and-sos.

        Then, after a moment or so of introspective thought, Jean
quipped, "Hmm...  Y'know something... That might just work..."

        "What?  What might work?", Ann, who's interest was piqued,
intoned.

        "I was just sitting here...  Thinking!  When... all of a
sudden... it hit me!"

	"What?  What hit you, Jean?"

        "An idea!  A brilliant... if I do say so myself... idea!"

        "Well tell me what it is!", Jean impatiently demanded.

	"Well... I'm a jinn.  Right?"

	"Yes!", Ann encouraged.  "That you are!"

        "That means... I've got all this magical potential just waiting
in the wings!"

	"Yeah...  So..."

        "Well... I was thinking that if you could make another wish... a
wish that would grant me the ability to use this magically potential of
mine... y'know, like whenever some swinging dick takes it upon himself
to hit on either one or the other of us... I could come up with
something that... I think it's safe to say... would quickly and
expeditiously dissuade him of his foolishly contrived notion."

        "You've got me intrigued, Jean.  Tell you what! Why don't you
fill me in on what you have in mind... y'know, should such a situation
arise... and... if I like what I hear - Tell you what I'll do! - I'll
process that wish of your's.  A.S.A.P.!

	"Alright, Jean?"

	"Sounds good to me."

        "Okay!  So out with it!  Tell me what you have in mind, Jean!"

        "Well...", Jean began, collecting his thoughts as he, as a she,
did so, "...I was thinking that I could contrive any number of things
to... shall we say... discourage some guy from coming on to either one
or both of us.

        "The first idea that pooped into this new and fully feminized
brain container of mine... as crass and diabolical as it might sound at
first... has some real potential... y'know, to my somewhat
discombobulated way of thinking.  What I had in mind was... when faced
with a situation where some smooth talking son of a bitch takes it upon
himself to hit on one or the other of us... was that I could cause him
to have a massive... instantaneous... premature ejaculation."

	"You would... would you?", Ann chuckled.

        "Oh, yeah!  I'd do a real number on him!  I'd make him shoot his
sperm all over the place!  Y'know, as in I'd turn his underwear into one
soggy... sticky... gooey mess!  Y'know, that would in turn, embarrass
the livin' shit out of him!

        "Or... let's say... y'know, just for the fun of it... that we
are approached by a pair of swinging dicks... y'know, who have full
intentions of laying some of their smooth taking bullcrap on us...

        Well... just for a change of pace... I was thinking that instead
of causing the two of them to have premature ejaculations... I could
turn them into a couple of limp-wristed faggots... y'know, who find that
they - all of a friggin' sudden - are ape-shit in love-lust with one
another... y'know, so much so that they just up and forget all about
trying to pick the two of us up."

	"Jean!  That's fantastic!  Absolutely fantastic!

        "But tell me!  Please!  You're not planning on leaving them
hung-up on each other... are you?"

        "No... not really!  I mean... I could!  But... that wouldn't be
a nice thing for me to do... now would it, Ann?"

	"No, Jean!  It most certainly wouldn't be!"

        "Okay!  Tell you what I'll do... y'know, should I ever turn some
would be suitors of ours into a couple of limp-wristed fags, Ann...
I'll rig this would be homosexuality inducing spell of mine in such a
way that it will be negated the first time the two of 'em kiss one
another full on the lips.  Alright?"

        "Sure...", Ann replied.  "Whatever tickles your fancy, Jean!

        "I just didn't want either you or I to be responsible for
turning a couple of straight guys into gay-birds... y'know, for the long
haul.

        "As long as it's only going to be a temporary fix... I can live
with it!  However... just so you know, Jean... were it to be a permanent
condition... I wouldn't be as inclined to go along with it.  Okay?"

        "No problem, Ann!  Given all the shit I'm contending with...
y'know, as a direct result of this new condition of mine - Rest assured!
- there's no way in hell that I want to screw up anybody else's life...
y'know, the way mine is screwed up... via the use and abuse of these new
metaphysical powers of mine!

        "I mean... while I don't mind fiddle-fucking around with
people... y'know, who fully deserve to be fiddle-fucked around with...
be advised, Ann... that I draw the line when it comes to making the
changes I induce permanent!  As long as we keep these magical tinkerings
of mine on a temporary, short-lived bases... you'll find me a willing
participant.

        "I mean... there's no way in hell I would ever allow those two
gay-birds... y'know, that we were hypothetically just discussing to...
shall we say... go Greek and back-door one another."

        "Good!  I'm glad to hear that, Jean!  Y'know... because like
you... I don't want things to get to far out of hand either!

        "Oh!", Jean exclaimed.  "Guess what, Ann!  I just may have hit
on something that'll put the kibosh on guys trying to come on to us...
y'know, like in one fell swoop!"

	"You have?"

	"Yes, Ann... I do believe that I may have!

        "Tomorrow... or... as soon as it becomes convenient for the two
of us to do so... we've got to hit a pet store, Ann!"

        "And just why do we have to go to a pet store, Jean?"

        "To pick up a couple of gerbils... or guinea pigs... or
something of that nature..."

        "And just why - Pray tell! - would we want to do something like
that... oh, femmified husband of mine?"

        "So that I can play Fairy Godmother to your Cinderella!"

        "What in the world are you talking about, Jean? Stop being so
cryptic and just tell me what you planning doing with these two critters
that you want us to purchase!"

        "Well... if you remember... to facilitate Cinderella's going to
the ball... her fairy godmother... having first turned a punkin into a
carriage... proceed on to change those mice and a couple other animals
that were... I guess you could say... handy... into a whole sundry of
things... y'know, like... for instance... a coachman and footman... not
to mention a team of horse to pull Cinderella's carriage!"

        "Yeah... so...", Ann, still unsure as to where her jinnified
husband was going with this rather convoluted explanation of his, gentle
prodded.

        "Well... the thought hit me... y'know, like a ton of bricks...
that if we had a couple of critters at our disposal... y'know, like a
pair of gerbils... or guinea pigs... or whatever ... I could transform
them into a couple of real muscle bound hunks... y'know, to act as our
escorts whenever we want to go out somewhere... y'know, where we might
conceivable run the risk of guys trying to pick us up.

        "I mean... no swinging dick in his right mind is going to try
putting the make on us if we are in the company of two... shall we
say... handsome and rather ruggedly built male escorts... now are they?"

        "No...", Ann admitted, "You're right about that, Jean!  Most
guys will be intimidated as all get out and opt to just leave us be!"

        "And here's the good part about all of this, Ann! We wouldn't
have to interact with these so called 'escorts' of ours' anymore than
absolutely necessary!

        "Basically... the way I would set the whole thing up... these
humanized critters of ours' would behave as perfect gentlemen... y'know,
speaking only when spoken to!"

        "Hmm...", Ann thoughtfully murmured, as mulled Jean's proposal
over in her mind.  "You know something!  As farfetched as this
proposition of your's is... it may have some real potential, Jean...
y'know, once we work out all the details!

        "However... since I'm not... what you might call... overly fond
of hairy little rodents, Jean... do you think we could substitute a pair
of rabbits... y'know, instead of using either gerbils... or guinea
pigs?"

	"Sure, Ann.  No problem.

        "Fact is... down the road apiece... once we figure out what
we're going to do... y'know, after you hit the lottery big time... since
you've always wanted us to get a dog... and... if my recollection serves
me correctly... which I assure you it does, Ann... since you're partial
to labrador retrievers... tell you what!  Instead of us getting one
lab... let's go whole hog and get two... y'know, and then... instead of
using rabbits... we can use the labs to play the part of our bogus boy
friends."

        "Sure...  I guess we could do that...", Ann replied tentatively.

        "Something wrong?", Jean, having taken note of a hesitant
inflection in his wife's voice, inquired.

	"No... not really...

	"It's just..."

	"Just what, Ann.", Jean prompted.

        "It's just that I had always fancied a female lab... y'know,
over a male one... y'know, because of a female's calmer disposition."

	"Okay!  So we get two females!"

        "Won't that cause a problem for you, Jean... y'know, when you
turn them into our bogus boy friends."

	"Shouldn't!

        "I mean... transsexuallizing something is a piece of cake for
these new metaphysical powers of mine!

        "Truth be told, Ann!  About the only animate being that I am
prohibited on pulling a presto- changeo, guyo-girlo... or girlo-guyo on
is... guess who!"

        "Yourself...", Ann, obligingly, filled in the blank.

        "You've got it, Ann!  You move to the head of the class!


* * *


        "Jean...", Ann intoned thoughtfully, having first savored a
spoonful of her sinfully delicious hot fudge sundae.

        "Yes...", Jean replied, as he, as a she, took his fork and used
it to sliced off a small wedge of the cherry cheesecake that he had
ordered as a tasty adjunct to his customary after dinner cup of coffee.

	"Tell me about this lamp of your's."

        "Sure, Ann... what - specifically - would you like to know about
it?"

        "Well... for starters, Jean... why do you - as a genie - need
one to begin with?"

        "There are a whole slew of reasons, Ann... but to put it as
simply and succinctly as possible... my lamp serves as: one... a
repository... and two... it functions as sort of a focal point...
y'know, through which the elemental part of this new being of mine can
channel the metaphysical where-with-all to accomplish the magical
aspects involved in wish fulfilling."

        "Alright...   That's more or less the way I had it figured,
Jean.  But tell me.  Are all genies... or as you term this new,
elementally enhanced self of your's... jinns... housed in lamps like
your's?  Or... are some housed in bottles... y'know, like on the
sixties' sitcom 'I Dream Of Jeannie'?"

        "Generally speaking, Ann... the sorcerer-artisans who trapped
elemental spirits and merged those captive entities with... what I guess
you could call... y'know, for a lack of a better way to put it... a
human host... y'know, to create magic wielding jinns like myself... used
either lamps like mine or... to a lesser degree... bottles.  However...
in a pinch... or when directed to do so by the person who had
commissioned the undertaking in the first friggin' place... these
sorcerer-artisans... y'know, of which I speak... could use almost
anything that was handy... y'know, as long as the item met with certain
specifications..."

        "And what - Pray tell! - might those certain specifications be,
Jean... if... that is... you don't mind my asking?"

        "Certainly not, Ann!  I don't mind you asking in the least
little bit!

        "Basically... the containment vessel had to be just that - a
vessel... y'know, that pre-existed in this corporeal dimension of ours.
Size didn't matter one way or the other.  The selected object just had
to have a hollowed out interior... y'know, with a single means of
ingress and egress."

        "Oh!  That's interesting...", Ann commented somewhat
distractedly as she continued on to add, "But tell me something else,
Jean."

	"Sure...  If I can."

        "Could I... should I elect to do so... command you... via a
wish... to... I guess you could say... relocate... y'know, to another
repository of my choosing?"

        "Yes, Ann.  That is permissible.  You could... though I don't
know why you would... direct me to relocate my metaphysical elements to
some other vessel."

        "That's interesting...  Very, very interesting...", Ann mused.

        "Tell me something else... oh, femmified husband of mine."

	"Sure...  Shoot!"

        "Does this containment vessel of your's have to be an inanimate
object... or... could it be an animate object?"

        "Ann!", Jean, who was not only curious as all get-out, but
mildly alarmed as well, questioned. "Just where in hell are you going
with this?"

        In a tone which clearly conveyed the fact that she wasn't about
to be distracted or deterred by her femmified husband,  Ann ignored Jean
as she proceeded on to once again ask the very same question that she
had asked before.

        "Jean!  I repeat!  Does this containment vessel of your's have
to be an inanimate object... or... could it be an animate object?"

        "It can be either...", Jean, his sultry, honey sweeten voice
registering a sense of resignation, replied meekly.

        "Ann!", he, as the sheling he had become, implored.

	"Just what in hell are you getting at here?"

        "Well... though I know that we've done everything we could do to
safeguard this lamp of your's from being either lost or stolen, Jean...
I'm still very unease about it.

        "So... given all that you just told me... y'know, about your
lamp and all, Jean... I was thinking that it might be advantageous for
me to direct you to relocate this metaphysical
whatever-you-want-to-call- it of your's and have you house it in one of
my body cavities.

        Jean, endeavoring to get a handle on what his wife was
suggesting, sought clarification,  "By body cavities, Ann... do you mean
something in the order of an ear canal... or a sinus... or something of
that nature..."

	"Yeah... sort of...", Ann hedged coyly.

        "Could you perhaps be just a wee bit more specific, Ann...
y'know, so that I have some idea of what you're talking about here!"

        "Well... while I know this is going to sound more than a little
vulgar and therefore, somewhat distasteful... if, that is: you'll pardon
the pun... the body cavity that I had in mind, Jean... was my vagina."

        Jean was incredulous.  "Your vagina!  You want me to use your
vagina as my corporeal containment vessel!"

        "Yes... that is: if it's feasible!  I think my vagina would be
the perfect place for you to go... y'know, when you have to go and do
whatever you have to do to... I guess you could say... replenish
yourself, Jean!

        "I mean... for starters... I not going to inadvertently misplace
my vagina... now am I?  Plus... there's absolutely no way that anybody
is going to be able to abscond with it either!

        "True!  There's always an outside chance that I could be
physically violated.", Ann admitted.  "But with you and those awesome
powers of your's on hand to protected me from the advent of that ever
occurring... I do believe that we can pretty much disregard that
possibility

Copyright 1998


JULIJANA: Волшебные превращения мужчины в женщину

JULIJANA: Волшебные превращения мужчины в женщину

©2001-2018 julijana