Chapter 2: The Slave of Desire

Thanks to b0b for beta-reading this!

Thursday, January 16th

The loud, annoying, repetitive beep of Kyle's alarm woke him. He rolled over, slapping at the clock. Only his hand fell short, landing upon a warm, soft lump that gasped. A person ... Kyle's thoughts tried to ponder that—

He bolted upright. There was a girl in his bed.

Aaliyah, his wife, smiled at him as she rubbed sleep from her dusky face. His heart sped up as the blanket slipped down to reveal her round, firm tits topped with hard, dark nipples. He tried to remember that he had a girlfriend. A beautiful girlfriend. But the sight of those breasts—

"How would you like to be satisfied, Kyle?" she purred, stretching. "My mouth, my pussy, or maybe someone else. Your sister perhaps, or your mother? Maybe your girlfriend Christy? Your old babysitter Megan? Name the woman, and she'll be eager to please you, my love."

Her fingers grasped his hard wood, polishing it with skilled hands. He fought off his baser urges. Fucking his mother and sister was wrong, it was incest, and he wanted his first time with Christy to be special, and not because his genie-wife made it happen. Other women popped into his head: Ms. Franklin, his biology teacher from last year with her fiery-red hair and low-cut blouses; or Toni from his math class, a gorgeous cheerleader with a petite body and dark-red hair; and the very lovely Carla Taylor from his gym class that always looked amazing in her tight sweatpants. There were dozens of girls at his school he had jerked off to before; he could have them all.

No. It's wrong. They should have a choice. Not forced to please him because of a wish. Right? Aaliyah's hand stroked harder, rubbing his cock's head, and it became harder and harder to remember that as the blood roared in his veins.

Megan seemed to enjoy herself last night, his lust whispered. What was the harm? He almost relented, imagining Ms. Capelo, his busty English teacher, wrapping her luscious tits around his cock.

"I want you," he moaned, pushing down his dark desires. "On top!"

He always wanted a woman to ride him, but he always hoped it would be Christy mounting him. Aaliyah beamed, gracefully moving into position. Her full breasts heaved as she straddled him, her hands guiding his wood to her shaved pussy. She felt amazing, like wet, warm silk as she rubbed his tip against her nether lips, then she found the entrance to her sheath and sank down on him, engulfing him in nirvana—slick, tight nirvana.

"Oh, my love!" she sighed. "Thank you for choosing me!"

"You're welcome." What else could he say? "Ride me!"

"Yes, yes!" she gasped.

Her breasts were beautiful as they rose and fell and jiggled and swayed. The mattress squeaked and Aaliyah squealed. He reached up, squeezing those lush orbs, perky and pliant and soft. Her nipples were hard; she gasped when he pinched them, her cunt constricting on his cock.

"Your cock is stirring me up!" she purred.

There was a sudden knock at his door. "Hurry up and finish, dear! You have to get ready for school!"

It was surreal that his mom accepted Aaliyah and their relationship thanks to his wish. "Yes, mother," Aaliyah answered, and picked up her rhythm. She looked down, her dark eyes full of lust. "Cum in me, my love! Let my pussy bring you to satisfaction!"

Kyle's balls were boiling; her pussy wet, warm, wonderful silk. His body tensed and his passion erupted into her. She shuddered, gasping, her pussy massaging the cum out of his balls. Then she slumped over him and he couldn't help kissing her.

She really is wonderful.

"I love you, Kyle," she murmured.

"I ... I love you, too." The guilt returned. He loved Christy, right? He missed her, and he badly wanted to see his girlfriend, and yet a part of him wanted to stay with Aaliyah. His thoughts were too confused, and Aaliyah's lithe body atop him only fueled his turmoil.

"I could stay like this all day, my husband," she sighed, nuzzling his neck.

"Yeah," he answered. "But I got to take a shower and all."

"Of course," she beamed, then stood up and held out her hand. "Shall we."

"Shall we what?" he asked in confusion.

"Shower. Since you have no concubines, I'll attend you."

He took her soft hand and she helped him up. He grabbed a robe, and she genied one for herself out of thin air, and they walked to the small bathroom. It was an old house, and there was only one bathroom, a small, cramped affair with a shower-tub combo, a toilet, and a porcelain sink on a stand underneath a medicine cabinet.

"How delightful," Aaliyah purred when she stepped into the spray, her dusky body shiny with moisture. "There are some remarkable things in your land."

His cock hardened, and he grunted and joined her in the shower. She looked around in confusion, so he grabbed his bottle of Axe body wash and she caught on quick. Her hands were soft and gentle as she soaped his body, starting at his chest, and working her way down his stomach.

"So strong," she purred, tracing his muscles.

"Thanks." He reached out, rubbing soapy hands on her stomach. "You're very beautiful."

Her face darkened with her blush, and then her hands began to wash his cock, and his hands began to wash her breasts. They both were smiling as they fondled each other, his cock erect, and the thought of Aaliyah on her knees in the shower blowing him popped into his mind.

As you wish, my husband!

She dropped to her knees, sucking his cock into her mouth, her dark hair matted to her beautiful face by the water spray. He groaned, closing his eyes and enjoying her wonderful mouth on his cock. He could grow to like this morning routine.

Someone banged on the bathroom door. "C'mon, Kyle!" Fatima shouted. "Other people live in this house!"

"In a minute!" he shouted. "Suck harder, Aaliyah."

She did; his eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned. His hips jerked, and he started slowly fucking her mouth. He stroked her wet hair, savoring her tongue swirling round his cock, brushing his sensitive tip as the suction of her mouth seemed to go straight to his balls, drawing his cum out.

"Gonna cum!" he groaned.

He unleashed a tide of white into her lips and she drank it all down.

"Thanks!" he sighed, a smile growing on his face as the euphoria slowly—

"Get out now! I have to pee!" shouted Fatima.

"Maybe we should finish up," Kyle laughed.

"Maybe," Aaliyah nodded, and suddenly the shower was off and they were clean and dry. Kyle laughed, and pulled on his bathrobe, and opened the bathroom door to find his little sister glowering at him wrapped in a pink robe that was half-open, teasing Kyle with a view of her developing breasts. They sure seemed lovely. Ever since his little sister had sprouted tits, she'd been teasing him with them.

"It's bad enough you kept me up all night with your fucking, but now you hog all the hot water!" she snapped.

"Sorry," he said, then glanced at Aaliyah.

She smiled and nodded. "You'll have all the hot water you need, sister."

Fatima shook her head and pushed past Kyle and Aaliyah.

"She's horny," Aaliyah purred. "If you were to go in there, she would welcome your affections. I can feel her desire. She's using the shower head to pleasure herself."

Kyle pictured his fourteen-year-old sister, budding breasts heaving, as she rubbed the shower head between her thighs. He pushed down his desire. "No, I got to get to school."

"Of course," she answered. "And I'll attend to the house and learn more about your strange kingdom."

"Country," he corrected.

"How curious," she mused, then gave him a kiss on the lips that set his heart beating and his cock swelling. She pressed her groin against his crotch. "Do you need relief?"

He adjusted his pants. "No. I gotta go." He fled the house, grabbing a bagel on the way out.

His thoughts were so full of Aayliah and Christy, guilt warring with lust, that he missed a turn and was half-way to school before he remembered that he was supposed to give his friend a ride to school. When he pulled up at his best friend's house, he was ten minutes late and Britney glared at him through her thick glasses. They had been best friends ever since the fifth grade when they had been paired together for a science fair project.

"You are late," she declared as she slammed the passenger door. "We are going to be late! I cannot be late, Kyle!"

Kyle shrugged. "It won't wreck your chance to be valedictorian, Britney."

She adjusted the thick rims of her glasses that seemed to cover most of her freckled face. She was dressed in her usual, frumpy clothes—baggy sweatshirt, loose pants, and a heavy, blue jacket—her thick, brown hair barely combed, making her head resemble a bird's nest. "If we are late, I will not help you with your Math homework."

"You wouldn't!" Kyle gasped with mock outrage.

Her gaze was level. "You will never get into a good college if you do not keep your grades up."

"My grades are fine, Britney."

"And what about scholarships? Your mother cannot afford to pay for your college."

"The military's going to pay," he dismissed.

She peered at him and he shifted nervously. She had a direct, piercing gaze, very clinical. He felt like a bug being examined beneath a microscope—a paramecium. "There is something different about you."

"Why would you say that?" he tried to sound causal. He failed.

"Did your date with Christy go bad?" She cocked her head.

"Yeah, her parents called and..."

"What is that scent about you?" She inhaled. "Jasmine and ... sandalwood?"

"Well..."

Then she punched his arm, catching him by surprise. He winced.

"Who is she?"

"Um..."

"You have had coitus recently, and not with Christy."

"I..."

"Men are such pigs! I thought you loved her. She will be crushed!"

Kyle was surprised by Britney's vehemence. She never had been happy that he was dating Christy, though he never pried the why out of his friend. This reaction caught him completely off guard. "It's not like that. She's..." My wife, he wanted to say. A thousand-year-old genie whom I inadvertently married when I used her lamp to burn incense. Dammit, if I can't tell my best friend, then whom do I talk to about it? "She's my wife."

Her hand froze; her big eyes blinked behind her thick glasses. "What?"

"You know my mom's Kurdish. It's one of those, uh, arranged marriages."

"So you engaged in coitus with her?"

"Do you have to call it that?" he asked. It made him feel so dirty when she used that word.

"Coitus? It is the proper term."

"Fine, I had coitus with her. A few times. She's..." Hot, beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, irresistible. "She's hard to resist."

"Pig," she sighed.

"I don't know what to do," he whined. "I love Christy and..." And what, do I love Aaliyah? He found a strange longing in his heart, and he wished both Aaliyah and Christy were here. A picture of the three of them together in bed flashed through his mind, Aaliyah's dusky hand and Christy's pale hand stroking his cock as they leaned into—he stopped imagining that, his cock growing uncomfortably large in his jeans. "I don't know what to think. It was all sprung on me last night. My mom's cool with it..."

"Break up with Christy then. She deserves that. Do not string her along, Kyle."

Kyle frowned, making the turn into Rogers High School's parking lot. He parked his car, and saw Christy leaning against the school's brick wall, waving at him. She's probably been texting me the entire time we were driving. She's so pretty. His heart sped up, and he couldn't help smiling and waving back. "I can't. I love her."

"Then annul your marriage with this other girl."

The thought brought a momentary spike of fear. Did that sexy genie worm her way into my heart that quick? Or is this just lust? She's the first girl to jump my bones, and she's willing to do it again and again. I don't want to give that up, not when being inside her was so wonderful. Fuck, why did everything have to be so damn confusing?

"Don't tell Christy, okay?"

"I will not," Britney answered, though she didn't sound pleased. "You should."

"I will. I just need to think."

"She is bad for you, Kyle."

"What? Aaliyah?"

"No, Christy." Britney stared straight at him, her eyes—magnified by her thick glasses—fixed on him like a fierce tiger, and he swallowed. Normally his friend was as calm as a placid lake, but sometimes she could grow so intense, like a lake frothed by a raging storm. "She is a liar. She will break your heart."

Kyle wanted to press her for more information, but Christy was walking up to his car, and this wasn't the sort of conversation Kyle wanted her to overhear. Why does she think Christy's a liar? Christy and Britney had never gotten along, and Kyle never had understood why neither girl liked each other. He sighed and opened his car door.

Christy was waiting, her pouty lips smiling, and enthusiastically hugged him. He felt momentarily guilty until her lips touched his, then he savored her love and the feel of her body pressed against his. Could I have both of them? Aaliyah seems more than okay with it, but what about Christy? Who am I kidding, Christy would never be in for that. No American woman would share her boyfriend.

"You're late," Christy declared. "Let's go before Mrs. Skinner gets mad at us."

"You look pretty today," Kyle smiled as he took her hand, and together they headed to their first period math class, the only class they shared this semester. Kyle struggled at math, but Christy was great at it. All the women in my life seem better at math than me.

"I am sorry about last night," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "I meant it. I was willing to go all the way."

"And this Friday?"

She took a deep breath, crimson playing on her cheeks. "I'm still ready." His cock was lead in his pants, and he adjusted himself, bringing a naughty giggle to her lips "I know. You should feel my panties. I wish I brought a fresh pair."

"I would love to..." his voice trailed off as a teacher came around the corner.

"Tomorrow night," she promised, a twinkle in her hazel eyes.

Aaliyah sat at Kyle's computer, fascinated at all the new things she was discovering. Thanks to her powers, she had developed an innate understanding of how to use the technology. So much had changed in the thousand years she had slept. The world she knew was gone and buried, and this new and exciting world had taken its place. Full of magic called technology that almost rivaled some of the feats she could perform. Almost.

Is father all right? she wondered as she read about the history of the Middle East. Nothing there had really changed; it was still wracked by war. He must think I'm lost for eternity. Well, Kyle is perfect. He can save the realms, once I help him shed some of his peculiar ideas. Never would Aaliyah have thought a man could pass up the opportunities of delight she offered.

Around the house, her little homunculi, fashioned from dust, were cleaning the house for her. Her mother-in-law was overworked having to support her two children on her own, so Aaliyah was more than happy to relieve her of that burden. It was very shameful that her father and brothers were not supporting her in her widowhood.

The door opened downstairs.

Curious, Aaliyah left the pocket space that Kyle's room occupied. I'm going to have to expand this. I need my own bedroom, and there needs to be space for his other wives and concubines. As she started going downstairs she came face to face with her sister-in-law. The younger girl froze on the stairs, her round face paled and almond-shaped eyes widened in alarm.

"Oh, shit!" she gasped. "I didn't think you'd ... Shit!"

"Do not be alarmed, sister," Aaliyah smiled, and sensed her thoughts. Fear, alarm, and surprise mixed together. She's afraid I'll tell her mother. She's supposed to be at school. "I will not tell your mother."

Fatima's relieved breath came out in an audible whoosh. "Well, um, good. So I need to, uh ... Yeah."

She was flustered, gathering her thoughts. Aaliyah reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Let's have a ta—"

"What the hell is that!" Fatima shrieked, pointing at one of her homunculi. It was squat, maybe a foot tall—what a curious measurement—and made of gray-brown dust, vaguely shaped like a human.

"A servant," Aaliyah answered. "Cleaning the house."

"But ... how..." Fatima's mouth worked soundlessly.

"I am a Djinn. Of the Jann tribe."

"A Djinn? A genie?"

Aaliyah sighed inwardly. Could no one in this land pronounce her people's name properly? "Yes. Your brother freed me from my slumber and now I am his wife."

The Djinn felt a stab of jealously followed by shame from the younger girl. How very curious, Aaliyah thought as she picked apart the girl's thoughts. "Come on, let's have a nice cup of tea and talk."

Aaliyah took her hand, warm, soft; heat flushed in her nethers. Fatima was pretty, a budding flower promising to become a great beauty. While Kyle was the first man the Djinn had lain with, he wasn't the first person. She had learned the delights that could be found with another woman in her father's harem. It was the only proper way for a woman to relieve her desires if her husband or master's affections cannot be obtained. Fatima had Kyle's beautiful eyes and exotic cast, and her body did so ache for her husband's touch.

Fatima's room was a little smaller than Kyle's and cluttered. Clothes were strewn everywhere—Fatima blushed and began snatching dirty panties off the floor—and paintings of cute boys covered the walls. She had never seen such lifelike paintings before. They looked so real, like the images on the computer and, curiously, words were printed on them with strange names: Justin Bieber, One Direction, Big Time Rush.

A minute later several homunculi tottered in carrying a steaming teapot, a spicy scent filling the air. Aaliyah took several pillows off her bed and sat on the floor. Fatima sat across from her and the Djinn had a lovely view up the young girl's skirt to her panties tight across her girlish treasure.

"How can you wear that?" Fatima asked. "I can see everything. It's so indecent."

Aaliyah looked down at her yellow silks. "This is a harem dress," she answered. "For your brother's pleasure. I would not wear this where another man could see me. But you show all that leg to complete strangers. Where I come from, that would be most indecent."

"This skirt goes down to my knees," gasped the girl. "I have skirts that are far shorter."

The homunculi finished pouring. The tea was warm and spicy and Aaliyah savored it. "What is your brother like?"

The girl snorted and then choked on her tea. "You're the one fucking him."

"Well, yes, but we just met." Aaliyah took another sip. Delicious. "He seems like a kind man, and loves his girlfriend very much." Girlfriend. What a strange word.

"I thought he did, and then he married you."

Jealousy radiated from the girl. She loves her brother. Perhaps she would make an excellent wife. "Your brother shall have more than one wife. This Christy seems like a likely candidate, and I eagerly await meeting her. I hope we can be the fastest of friends, sharing in our love for your brother."

Fatima stared in stunned amazement at the Djinn. "That's crazy. You can only have one wife."

"Why?"

"I ... I don't know," Fatima spluttered. "You just can't."

"What were you thinking about in the shower?" Aaliyah asked, probing her sister-in-law's feelings. Kyle seemed unwilling to expand his harem, and a great man needed one to prove the power he possessed.

The girl blinked in shock. pleasure horny Kyle's chest his muscles Kyle's cock inside me fucking me oh yes oh yes. Her thoughts were scrambled: flashes of Kyle; fantasies of being taken by her brother in the shower, in her bedroom; forced to be his lover and please him. Aaliyah smiled.

"I was just showering." Her protest was half-hearted, her face darkening in embarrassment.

Aaliyah peered into her eyes, reaching out to touch her knees. "I think you were doing more than that."

Fatima's looked down at her tea. "Okay, fine. I was masturbating. Thinking about boys."

"About Kyle?"

"Of course not!" Her protest sounded sincere. "He's my brother."

"It's okay," the Djinn told her, stroking her thigh. "He is so handsome, how could you not think about him that way?"

"He's my brother! It's wrong!"

"Love is never wrong," Aaliyah answered, patting her knee.

Aaliyah's touch seemed to break something inside the girl, and Fatima's face became crestfallen, tears brimming in her eyes. "I just ... I can't help myself. I'm such a pervert!"

Aaliyah reached out and gently wiped at her tear, then cupped her face, leaning in. "There's nothing wrong with it. How long have you desired him?"