Chapter 5: The Prime Directive

Stafford Regional was abuzz with the usual morning activity. Teachers and students parked in their respective parking lots, while the rest were dropped off by the fleet of buses arriving from every corner of the region. Since it was a sunny day, many students were still loitering outside, soaking up the rays or sneaking a drag off their vapes. There were the typical cliques one might expect: the jocks, the nerds, the drama kids, the band geeks, the cheerleaders and so on. As the town’s pariah, George didn’t belong to any of them and kept his head down to avoid eye contact.

George wasn’t sure how to explain her sudden appearance to the world, but luckily for him, the Genie had turned into a pink cloud and hid herself behind George’s eyes. There, she could drink in the scene. “Wow...” she said with unabashed awe. “Master, this is incredible.”

“What, high school?” he replied in a low whisper. He wanted to be surprised that she could communicate with him telepathically, but everything about her was new and fantastical. He felt it better to continue practicing radical acceptance than to question every amazing feat she could so casually accomplish.

“The cuties. The sheer volume of eligible babes is staggering. We’ll fill your harem in no time!”

George chuckled. “You’re really set on this harem thing, aren’t you.”

“You have no idea. Ooh! Look at that one! She’s super cute, and her hormones are practically doing the work for us!”

George glanced around and saw the usual assortment of teenagers, the names he rarely remembered. He only recognized most of them by their faces. But she wasn’t wrong. Stafford had its fair share of hotties. There were so many that George couldn’t tell which one Genie was pining for. “Who?” he asked.

Suddenly, a girl some distance away to his left was illuminated by a shimmering pink silhouette. She was a cute blonde with a pixie cut and some neat piercings. “She’s alright,” said George. “But she’s a little young, isn’t she?”

“Pish posh. She’s less than a year younger than you, Master.”

He’d have been lying if he claimed he wasn’t interested. However, George didn’t know anything about her, and even though she wasn’t much younger, something was unsettling about the entire affair. “That’s okay, Genie. Later, maybe.”

George strode past the folks hanging around outside and entered the school’s main hall. The facility had undergone many renovations in recent years thanks to extremely generous donations from wealthy alumni. Budget concerns were rarely an issue thanks to the school’s reputation as having one of the country’s most prestigious high school football programs. The team hadn’t lost a game in fourteen seasons, and many of its players had gone on to have great professional careers. As the saying goes, a rising tide floats all boats, and though the football team got everything it wanted, there was enough excess for the other sports teams and clubs to benefit handsomely. The resulting wave of accolades had turned the main hall into a veritable museum dedicated to the dominance of the Stafford Dragons. Trophy cases filled with honors lined every wall, with spirited slogans like ‘Attitude is Everything’ and ‘Excellence is a Decision Made Everyday’ emblazoned in big purple letters for all to see.

Dominating the space in the middle of the hall was a somber shrine encased in protective glass and framed in gold. Inside was an archway sculpted from stone, which held two yearbook photos, each depicting a pretty young woman. The one on the left belonged to a demure brunette named Amber Thorne, who’d gone missing over a decade prior. The woman on the right was Kelly Shoemaker, a playful-looking blonde who disappeared seven years later. Above that was a wooden plaque with a gold engraving that read, “In loving memory of our lost princesses. May their spirits guide us to victory.” Everyone at Stafford Regional knew who those girls were. They had been invoked at every pep rally since George was old enough to remember.

But the Genie didn’t seem interested. Instead, she highlighted different girls with her pink mist, intent on enticing her Master. “Ooh, she’s nice. And check out the titties on that one. Slay it, queen! Rock that new bra!”

George followed along but felt highly self-conscious. He couldn’t escape the notion that people were staring at him. “Can they, um ... can they see me?”

“Of course, master.”

“No, I mean, can they really see me?”

“Oh, you mean you’re new physique? They can see it, but part of my job is ensuring others don’t notice our power. So they can tell there is a difference, but they won’t find it odd.”

He relaxed a little. “Okay. So that explains why not even my mom noticed us ... in the shower and...”

“One of the many perks that comes from being my master,” she beamed. “Even if you were some powerful warlord or whatever, keeping advantages hidden is how you keep those advantages. Attracting unwanted attention would make it harder for you to wield my power, at least without consequences. And consequences are for plebs. Oh! Check out that one over there! She definitely sees you. And she really likes what she sees.”

The Genie highlighted a girl at her locker a few paces ahead. George recognized her as Piper’s friend, the curvy pastel goth whose name escaped him. Her baby blue hair faded into pink, contrasted with dark makeup, a white button-up shirt, and black skinny jeans. She looked away when their eyes met. “Aww, she has a little crush. That’s adorable.”

Surprised, George said, “On me? Really?”

“Yep! She has for a while now, just a little one. Looks like the curse was suppressing it, but that’s not the case anymore.” George regarded her as discreetly as he could. They had never interacted in all the years they’d attended school together. She seemed way too cool, and the idea of her liking him at all seemed outlandish. Seeing her there going through her locker and sheepishly avoiding his gaze, with her unique blend of darkness and light, George couldn’t help but notice her too.

“Wild,” he said.

“Seems like her friend told her some things about you that piqued her interest. Gosh, she’s so cute. Prime harem material right there.”

“Her friend,” he thought. George suddenly remembered Piper and felt deeply ashamed of himself. While the Genie was having fun, George was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “Can we cool it with the harem talk, please? I don’t know how I’m going to handle you, let alone a harem full of ... yous.”

“Sorry! I’m just really excited! There is so much desire floating through the air. So much angst. Everyone wants to be loved by someone. They struggle against their urges, afraid of getting hurt. And the hormones. My goodness, the hormones!” She swooned dramatically, saying, “High school truly is a magical place.”

As they walked the halls, George remarked, “For someone who just left billions of years of captivity, you sure seem to know a lot. Are you reading their minds or something?”

“Nah, it just sorta comes to me. But I can dig a little deeper if someone exciting comes along. Just their love lives, though. Beyond that, I’d have to investigate like anyone else would. Take our spunky little strumpet back there. I don’t know where she lives, but I know she’s got a breeding kink like you wouldn’t believe.”

George’s cheeks flushed at the idea of the sexy goth babe in the throes of passion, happy to be filled with a risky creampie.

“Oooh, I think you like her,” she said playfully. “Just say the word, master, and I’ll make her yours.”

“Genie...”

“What? Don’t you want to have sex with her?”

George fumbled with his locker combination and replied, “I ... no ... yes ... kinda. But that’s beside the point. You shouldn’t go poking around in people’s heads like that. Besides, she wouldn’t want me. I’m ... I’m just...”

“A kind, handsome young man with the body of a god and the soul of a poet?”

George rolled his eyes. “Well, when you put it that way.”

“Hmm,” she thought. “I think I know what’s going on here.” She materialized next to him with a sudden puff of smoke, making George jump in surprise. She giggled mischievously even as she soothingly stroked his bicep. “Sorry, I know this has all been a lot for you. Lots of changes all at once. But it’s not enough to just suppress the curse. We need to undo some of the damage, build up your confidence, get you comfortable in your new life.”

George considered it and knew she was right. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt comfortable. “All right, Genie. What do you suggest?”

She twirled playfully in the middle of the hallway, her bronze hair and yellow sundress splaying gracefully around her, and said, “Take your pick, Master. It’s time we got you laid.”

“Now?” George swallowed hard and looked around nervously, forgetting for a second that the Genie was hiding their interactions.

“Right now,” she nodded. “Anyone you want, just say the magic words, and I’ll make it happen. You’re a sweet guy with a lot to offer, and it’s time you started offering.”

“I ... I...” he stammered. He was conflicted. On one hand, he definitely wanted to explore that side of himself, especially with his new companion. But, on the other hand, he felt ashamed for needing something as heavy-handed as a sex genie to make it happen for him. George frowned as he felt more lame than ever and turned around to finish up at his locker.

Concerned, the Genie tilted her head and asked, “Master?” But before he could respond, George felt a heavy paw on his shoulder that spun him around. Suddenly, two of the biggest thugs in school collided with him, lifting him up and pinning him against the locker-lined wall with a crash. “What the...” he groaned.

He recognized them as Tom Richter and Joey Bangal, their football team’s left and right defensive tackles, and Connor’s friends. Sure enough, Connor was right behind them with a malicious smirk. “What’s up, Snowflake?” he said with feigned warmth. “Surprised you aren’t home with a tummy ache.”

“Master, who are they?” Genie whispered.

George was too distracted to reply to her. He struggled to move, but their combined effort kept him firmly in place. “What do you want, Connor?” he said more fearfully than he meant to.

“It’s a funny story. I went through my car last night and found another birthday present for you. Give it to him, Joey.”

Joey pulled his fist back to punch George in the stomach. George couldn’t even brace himself, pinned as he was, and gritted his teeth in anticipation.

The strike landed with a sickening snap. Joey grabbed his arm and cried, “Ahh fuck!”

Connor and Tommy’s gleefully malevolent smirks turned serious in an instant. “The fuck is your problem?” asked Connor.

Joey paced around the hallway, wincing in pain. “I think I broke my fucking wrist,” he groaned.

“The fuck, bro. Are you serious?” yelled Connor.

“Agh! Yeah, man, look!” Joey held out his arm. Sure enough, his wrist was already starting to swell.

Meanwhile, George hadn’t felt anything but a light tap against his freshly hardened abs. With his arm free, he planted his feet and pushed Tom as hard as possible. Unfortunately for Tom, he wasn’t ready for it and lost his balance, crashing hard against a locker on the far side of the hallway. George looked over at Connor with astonishment.

By then, a crowd had started forming, but they seemed unsure of who to root for and were surprised that two of the school’s most vicious bullies had just been incapacitated by the lowly George Everhart.

Connor looked around at the scene unfolding and just rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he huffed. He walked over to Joey and grabbed his arm to see his wrist better. “You idiot!” he spat. “You can’t play like that! Go to the nurse, dumbass!” Joey scurried off.

Connor then moved closer to George until he was just a foot away. George recoiled in response, ready for him to attack. The hall was filled with quietly baffled onlookers, all anticipating a brawl to break out. But Connor held back. He looked calm, but George could see rage simmering under the surface.

“You know, Georgie-boy, this was just supposed to be a little fun. A quick stop to say hello to my favorite diaper disaster.” Connor’s tone was steady and menacing. “But you had to ruin it, didn’t you? You had to act all tough all of a sudden.” Then he got even closer. “You fucked up,” he growled.

He backed away and walked over to Tom to help him up. “Be seeing you, Snowflake.” Tom glared at George before they both walked off. The few people who witnessed the encounter dispersed, already hopping on the gossip train.

Genie let out a sarcastic groan and said, “Well ... that was fucking stupid.”

George was still reeling from the adrenaline working its way through his system. “Meet Connor Reckman and his merry band. Even without the curse, they still manage to fuck up my day.”

“Day is still young, Master.”

George shut his locker and slung his bag over his shoulder. But before he could leave for homeroom, he felt a wave of mental fatigue and rested his weary head against the locker door while he caught his breath. “Sorry. I’m not trying to ruin your fun. It’s just hard to ... to...”

She rubbed his back and asked, “Stuff like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

George nodded. “What happened? Did he hit the locker or something?”

“No, no. He hit you. I just made him pay for it. Nobody hurts my Master.”

George headbutted his locker door just hard enough to feel it. “Damnit,” he muttered.

The Genie recoiled and said, “I’m sorry. Should I not have done that?”

George shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Jerk brought it on himself. It just ... sucks. If his wrist is broken, he’ll be out for the season, his career might be over, and everyone will blame me.” He looked at her and saw the worry etched on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It’s enough that the pain is gone. I’m grateful, just ... I’ve been down a similar road before.”

The Genie struggled with her confusion before throwing her hands up. “I don’t get it,” she said. “And that aside, the curse is gone. They shouldn’t be so hostile.”

George remembered when he and Connor were friends years ago before his father died. It was less than a decade, but it might as well have been another life for him. “We have history,” he said finally. “Can’t fix everything with magic, I suppose.”

His companion considered his words and said, “That just leaves us with one thing left to do.”

“And that is?”

“We turn Connor’s peepee into a frog.”

Alarmed, George turned toward Genie but had to laugh when he saw her. She had scrunched up her face and flattened her lips into a goofy frog impersonation. “I’m Connor’s doink, ribbit,” she said comically, “kiss me and turn me into a prince.”

George started heading to Homeroom while he collected himself. “So revenge, is it?” he asked.

Genie walked beside him. “Hmm, I like to think of it as poetic justice. He and his goons act like gross warty toads, so their privates should reflect that.”

“Ugh, their poor girlfriends,” he said.

The Genie got quiet for a moment before responding. When she spoke again, it was clear her mood had shifted. “That’s a whole other story,” she said solemnly.

George was about to inquire further, but as he entered Homeroom, Genie gasped.

“What is it?” he asked, worried something terrible had happened.

“Master,” she said with intense reverence, “she’s gorgeous...”

Standing at the head of the class, scribbling cheerfully on the whiteboard, was Ms. McCoole. George had almost forgotten about the school’s sexy, stacked English teacher, but she looked even more ravishing without the curse muddying his perception. She hadn’t noticed him, and George took the opportunity to take in her profile. She wore a charcoal blazer and matching skirt that ended just above the knee, but the ensemble seemed tighter than usual as if she’d purposefully worn a size too small. It highlighted the contrast between her taut stomach, her sculpted behind, and her enormous breasts. Her voluminous chestnut hair was bound in a classy updo, and her makeup complimented her olive skin. Even her shoes, heels just high enough to show off her toned calves, were nothing special. Her body stretched the outfit to its extreme, and even though there was nothing innately sexual about it, she made it lewder by the mere fact that she was wearing it.

Just as George realized he’d been staring too long, Ms. McCoole finally noticed him. “Oh,” she said, surprised. Her cheeks reddened slightly under his scrutiny, and she seemed awkward, almost shy. “Good morning, George. Is, um ... everything okay?”

“No ... I mean, yes! Everything’s great. Uh ... Good morning!”

Meanwhile, hidden by her magic, the Genie openly admired her, gawking lasciviously. But Ms. McCoole paid Genie no attention and continued her conversation like she wasn’t there. “Yes, good morning,” she said pleasantly. “You look well today.”

George did his best not to watch as Genie stood next to Ms. McCoole and openly stared at her breasts, mouth agape. “Thank you, ma’am. I feel...” but his voice died as he watched his companion reach into his teacher’s blazer and grope one of her massive tits through her white blouse. He swallowed and continued, “ ... soft ... Great! I feel really great today!”

The Genie then grabbed one of her own soft tits and squeezed as if she were comparing them. She let out a little moan and bit her lip while her eyes seemed to glaze over.

Ms. McCoole reacted with a sudden flutter of her eyelashes but otherwise ignored her. She checked her surroundings and then, in a low voice, asked, “How is your art coming along?”

George felt the blood drain from his face. “I, uh ... I haven’t been doing that lately.”

“Oh,” she said sadly. “That’s a shame.”

“It is?”

“Of course! Obviously, it was inappropriate, but I assume you have other subjects besides ... me.” She looked around again before folding her arms under her breasts, squishing them together. Her voice became even lower when she said, “No one’s made me fan art before. Bold.”

George’s eyes dipped down to the enticing display. Even fully clothed, the swell of her breasts was impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard, and his voice cracked like he was going through puberty again. “It was?”

She smirked, then leaned in and whispered, “Naughty boy.” A few more students entered the room, prompting Ms. McCoole to return to her whiteboard as if nothing had happened. George saw that as his cue to leave and went to his desk in the back of the room. The Genie took up her spot inside his mind once again.

“Target acquired, master,” the Genie said ominously.

“No. Genie, I’m not fucking Ms. McCoole in the middle of class. That’s just crazy.” He’d meant to be firm, but Genie just giggled in response. “What?” he asked.

“Who said anything about fucking anyone?”

“I ... you...” he stammered.

“Someone’s got a dirty mind,” she giggled. “But, Master, you don’t need to hide it from me. I know your desires better than you do. And looking at her, I think I know where I get some of my attributes from.”

George watched his teacher putter around the room as she readied herself for the day and understood what the Genie meant. They shared many similarities, particularly in the shape of their bodies. They both had big, full, perky, natural breasts, easily more than a handful, and equally prominent posteriors. But on such slim frames, their genetics were highly improbable. Ms. McCoole had fairer skin and was an inch or two taller, while the Genie had longer hair and a cute smattering of freckles. However, they were both stunning in equal measure.

Genie continued, “I see a woman put on this earth to do one thing. She and I have a singular purpose. Do you know what it is?”

He knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“We exist to fuck you. To suck and lick and stroke and drain that big fucking dick. To make you cum over and over, on us, in us, any time, any place.”

George’s cock was expanding and straining against his jeans uncomfortably.

“She’s a horny girl, has been ever since she bloomed at seventeen. But she was scared, shy, worried that she’d never be able to keep her body’s promises. Then, one of her professors in college noticed her and taught her a lot about herself and how to fulfill her intended purpose. She still struggles with self-worth, but she knows what she does to people and how her body entices anyone so inclined. And then there’s you.”

He quickly reviewed their interactions over the past few weeks and realized she wasn’t awkward because she was embarrassed. She was aroused. “I drew pictures of her,” he said absently.

“Not just any pictures, spicy lewd drawings with her in some very compromising situations. Situations she shouldn’t be thinking about, that could get her fired if she acted on them. But she cannot stop fantasizing about it, about you. She can’t believe that a student wants to do such depraved things to her, but what’s even more surprising is how much she wishes you would just push her to her knees and use her like a filthy cum rag.”

Then, Genie hugged him from behind, draping her arms over his shoulders as she stroked his chest. He could feel her hot breath on his neck as she whispered, “The only question is, do you want her too?”

George was powerless to resist, and the word left his lips before he could even think. “Yes.”

“Tell me. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it so.”

He hung his head, and his cheeks reddened from the embarrassment. “I wish I could ... have sex with Ms. McCoole.”

A pleasant tingle spread through his brain and spine, similar to the sensation he felt in the shower. She switched to his other ear and said, “As you wish, master.”

A shiver ran through him as the forbidden fantasies he’d been harboring for Ms. McCoole seemed suddenly inevitable. He shifted in his chair and jiggled his leg with nervous energy while he watched her go through her morning routine, utterly oblivious to the passion about to be unleashed. Very soon, she’d be his. The thought was ludicrous, alluring, and terrifying.

He whispered to the Genie, “So what happens now?”

“Patience, Master. I know you don’t want this to be a quick romp, and neither do I. Let’s take our time and savor the experience. And we’ll make sure that she enjoys it just as much. Do you trust me?”

“I ... I think so,” he said.

She giggled. “Good enough.”

The bell rang, and homeroom officially began. While Farah cheerfully read off the morning announcements over the loudspeaker, George was treated to a massage. The Genie started at his scalp, scraping her nails lightly through his shaggy black hair, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. Then, she moved lower to his neck and shoulders. She possessed the skill of a master masseuse, her fingers deftly releasing tension everywhere she touched. He watched Ms. McCoole lean back in her chair and shut her eyes, seemingly lost in some pleasurable daydream of her own.

He asked the Genie, “You’re doing the same thing to her, aren’t you.”

“Uh-huh,” she cooed. “We want her nice and ready for you.”

“Does she know what’s going on?”

“She knows she feels good but doesn’t know why or how, nor does she care. I’m taking care of everything, Master. No consequences, no fear, no shame, no witnesses. Just pure sexual bliss for you and her.” She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “For me, too.”

His teacher fell even deeper under the Genie’s spell and let a little moan escape her lips, loud enough that George could hear it at the back of the room. “You’re sure no one knows?” asked George, concerned more for Ms. McCoole than himself.

“I’ll prove it to you,” she replied. “Pay attention to the announcements for a moment.”

George listened as Farah continued with her spiel. “All Purple Dragons are to report to the old locker room for an important meeting after Homeroom. And this just in: George Everhart, in a surprising turn of events, is going to fuck the living daylights out of Ms. McCoole today. Make sure to give him a high five if you see him. It’s Thursday, and you know what that means. That’s right, it’s chili day...”

George snapped to attention, expecting everyone in the school to start freaking out. But they carried on like nothing had happened. The only other person who seemed to notice was Ms. McCoole, who gazed at him with hungry eyes and bit her lip to stifle further reactions.

“See,” said Genie. “Nobody can perceive your wishes. Even Farah, who uttered such a salaciously silly sentence just now, doesn’t comprehend the words she used. To everyone else, this is all perfectly normal.” She giggled and added, “Just don’t be surprised by all the high-fives you’ll be getting today.”

The announcements ended with Farah’s familiar signoff. “Remember, you can have a good day or a bad one. The choice is yours.” Usually, this was Ms. McCoole’s cue to begin taking attendance, but it wasn’t until one of the football players stood and said, “Hey, McCoole, we’re taking off,” that she regained her senses.

She shook loose the lustful thoughts and said, “Right ... sure, that’s fine, Randel.”

He and his teammate left the room while Ms. McCoole stood and called names. One by one, she checked the class in. On any other day, she would engage in idle chatter while she prepared for her first class. But on this day, Genie was preparing her. So she sat at her desk with her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap. She squirmed and shuddered and licked her lips as the imperceptible entity sent delightful jolts of pleasure throughout her body. George leaned back in his chair and gave in to his new companion’s expert ministrations, finally letting go of the tension from his encounter with Connor.

Homeroom was over before he knew it, and most of the class left for the first period. But George could stay put since his first lesson was with his favorite teacher. There was the typical commotion one would expect from hundreds of people shifting locations in a brief window. However, there was a space of a few minutes where it was just the three of them. George locked eyes with his teacher and realized he would have dreaded a moment like this, afraid of displeasing her or doing something else to make himself look foolish or lame. But today, under his companion’s spell, there seemed to be an unspoken understanding between them. They were both anxious with the anticipation of something burning hot, hidden beneath a heavy lid of propriety and taboo. Now, with a simple wish, those barriers were gone.

Very slowly, Ms. McCoole got up from her desk and, without a word, unbuttoned her blazer, slid it off her shoulders, and then hung it on the back of her chair. She strode toward him, her hips swaying with each click of her heels. When she finally reached his desk at the back of the room, she fingered one of the buttons on her blouse and said, “George, I...” but stopped when she glanced down at his crotch and noticed the bulge crawling down his leg. “Oh boy...” she mumbled as if she was only beginning to understand what she was getting into.

For George, everything felt too surreal to be anything but a dream. And just like a dream, the rational parts of his brain that would scream at him to get a grip were utterly silent. “Yes, ma’am?” he heard himself say. She continued to fidget as she spoke. “I think you and I should ... talk. Yes. Talk.”

“Alright. Um, what about?”

“Not now,” she said quickly. “I have a prep period after this one, and I want you to stay behind. We need to discuss ... the way you’re looking at me.” Her breath was getting shallow, and her cheeks were flushed. Then, she leaned forward and put both hands on his desk, squishing her breasts together with her elbows. There was the faintest hint of cleavage peeking over a button that looked ready to pop off from the strain. It was like the last picture he’d made of her a few weeks prior. “You really shouldn’t be looking at me like this,” she said in a husky whisper. George swallowed the lump in his throat and said, “I shouldn’t?” Then, another student entered and set their belongings at their desk. George was startled, but Ms. McCoole focused all her attention on him. “See me after class. And make sure you pay attention ... to my lesson, not my ... well, you know.” She let her gaze linger as she stood slowly and turned to strut down the aisle to the front of the room, silently demanding he stare at her heart-shaped rump as she went. “Fuuuuuck, I love her,” the Genie gushed. “What a dirty girl. Master, if you only knew what she wants right now, you really would be banging her in the middle of class.”

The rest of the students gradually took their seats, and the period officially began. “Alright, everyone, settle down. Today, we continue our discussion of Swift’s satire of misogyny and gender within Gulliver’s Travels. Did everyone do the reading?”

There were mumbles and groans as the class procured their books and turned to the relevant pages. George simply watched as though he were a fly on the wall while the Genie, imperceivable by George’s classmates, floated around him, stroking and kissing as she went. The Genie spoke over the hapless teacher, her voice dominating his senses as the rest of the world faded into background noise, easily dismissed. “Catherine McCoole: twenty-seven years old, book nerd, English teacher, aspiring author, and a ravenous wench. She spent much of her young life with her nose in a book, fantasizing about being ravished by the heroes in her stories. She has a weakness for trashy romance novels, her guilty pleasure. She especially loves the teacher/student dynamic. She’s been the teacher’s pet more than once in university, but she’s eager to try the reverse.”