Chapter 8

Parisa fidgeted nervously as she sat in front of Sam’s television, randomly skipping from channel to channel as she tried to learn more about her new world. It was taking all of her self control not to get up and pace. She had never been left alone for so long in her entire life, and the boys had been gone for all of five minutes. Djinn were in no way solitary creatures, and the silence was starting to get to her. The chatter from the television helped, but only a little bit. Her mind recognized the fact that the conversations were artificial, that the people on the other end of the screen weren’t really there. The damned laugh tracks just made her anxiety worse, driving home the fact that she was all alone.

“I can do this,” Parisa muttered as she wrung her hands together. “I will be strong for my husband. David will be home soon. He is merely at his tasks. He will be home in several hours...”

A frightful shudder crawled down the djinn’s spine as she voice just how long it would take before she would see anyone again. It was too much. Parisa bolted off the couch and started walking around the living room, taking note of every little detail. The boys had grown used to living the bachelor’s lifestyle, leaving most spaces occupied by piles of disorganized clutter. They were careful to throw out actual trash, thank the Lord, but when it came time to put their actual belongings away they tended to be a little slipshod. It wasn’t uncommon to discover a pile of books, CDs, video games, and boxes stacked one on top the other like some sort of domestic version of Jenga. It was unsightly and more than a little offensive to someone who had been raised from birth to expect to run a household.

“ENOUGH!” Parisa finally screamed as she discovered yet another pile. An angry snap of her fingers caused every single item to immediately leap into the air, including the couch, television, and every other major piece of furniture. The second snap of her fingers caused the living room to explode into a flurry of flying debris as every object in the apartment went zooming off in different directions, seeking out its proper place. This did cause some confusion as books and video games struggled to sort themselves alphabetically before landing on their respective shelves. Those items that didn’t have a natural place began lining up in front of Parisa, waiting for her to determine their ultimate fates.

“Sam, Sam, David, Sam, David, David, David, Sam...” Parisa’s eyes narrowed as a resin statue took its place at the head of the line. It was of an extremely busty valkyrie which appeared to have mislaid her top somewhere. She held a broadsword ready to strike down from above, but what really stood out was the fact that someone had gone to great trouble to paint realistically detailed nipples onto the statue’s somewhat pointed breasts. Parisa held up her hand in a silent command to halt. “Do you know which of the two boys you belong to?”

The statue shrugged, then went back to holding the sword over her head.

“Hmmm.” Parisa began to stroke her chin as she tried to decide what to do with the figurine. She wasn’t offended by it in anyway, as her father had many similar decorations around his palace, at least in terms of theme if not detail. His statues tended to be carved of marble, were more slender of form, and of course they tended to carry the scimitars and sabres more commonly found among her father’s troops. They were also designed to animate whenever there was danger about, providing instant guards if the situation demanded it.

“Well, you are mine now,” Parisa informed the statue. The valkyrie lowered her sword so that she was holding reversed with the point down and bowed her head in acknowledgment. She wasn’t quite as menacing as some of the statues back home, but even smaller figurines had their uses. A bit of magic converted resin to sharpened steel and flowing silk, though the kitsune’s body remained hard and unyielding. The proscriptions against creating life were strict, but narrow. Merely animating an artificial construct was entirely acceptable, so long as it did not need to eat, breathe, or become capable of naturally reproducing itself. “I name you Val. Your duties will be to watch and monitor this dwelling. Rid it of all pests, and stand guard against intruders of all kinds.”

“Of course, Mistress.” Val dipped her head a second time, then launched herself into the air, courtesy of the magic that now imbued her body. It would never have done to make such a wee thing walk everywhere. Val hovered for a moment as she scanned the apartment, looking for a reasonable place to set herself down. She eventually settled for a small end table near the door, where she once more resumed her original pose. Bright blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the door, waiting for the first unlucky visitor to arrive.

That out of the way, Parisa began to once more pace the apartment. Cleaning had been an interesting distraction, but had unfortunately only lasted a few minutes. She was once again left completely by herself, and this time even the television couldn’t distract her from her loneliness. She glanced over at the clock and was dismayed to realize it wasn’t even ten-thirty. “How do mortal women do this?!” she screamed.

“Do what, Mistress?” Val asked from her position by the door.

“Wait for their man to come home!” Parisa wailed. She flumped back onto the couch and pulled a pillow up under her chin as she pouted. “I wish David were here.”

“You are djinn, Mistress,” Val pointed out. “Can you not actually just wish him here?”

Parisa sighed and shook her head. “No, it would be a terrible sign of weakness if I were to just summon him back here. He must do the job he has accepted. What would his employer think if he could not control his woman? He would be shamed in front of those we have just met! I cannot do that to my husband. I just wish I had someone to talk to.”

“Are you not talking to me, Mistress?”

“Please do not be offended, Val, but you are not exactly real.”

“As you say, Mistress.”

Parisa threw her hands up in exasperation and then launched herself into another pacing fit. “There must be something I can do!”

“Could you make me a portcullis, Mistress?”

“A what?”

“A portcullis, Mistress.” Val motioned to the front door of the apartment with her free hand. “That door does not look particularly strong, Mistress. My baby sister could take it down with one or two good blows of an ax, and she has not even had her first coursing yet. It needs some good strong iron bars on it. Preferably on our side. They make the most wonderful crunching noise when they land on invaders, Mistress. I might also ask for a moat if I can, Mistress.”

Parisa face twisted with confusion as she listened to the statue’s request. Were all such guardians like this? She couldn’t remember her father’s decorations ever asking for extra fortifications, but then his palace already had such defenses built into it. That, and it wasn’t like Parisa had ever spent much time trying to talk to the statues. Or had she done something goofy with her magic? Had her loneliness somehow how affected the outcome of the wish? “Val ... you do not have a sister. You are made of resin.”

“Of course, Mistress.” The statue didn’t show any visible reaction to the rebuke. “As you say, Mistress. But I still think the portcullis and moat would be a good idea.”

“We are inside a building, so the moat would not work,” Parisa answered as she shook her head. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the request. “The portcullis, however ... That I should be able to do.” A snap of her fingers later, there was a portcullis blocking the inside of the door. “What other suggestions would you make to redesign this place?”

“We should lengthen this hallway in front of the door,” Val replied. “If you do that, then we can add some firing ports to the side. Turn it into a proper kill zone. At the end should be a guard room, so that there is always a reaction team on hand.”

“I can put Sam’s bedroom there, yes,” Parisa mused. “Unfortunately, we do not currently have a reaction team, though I suppose I can always make more guardians such as yourself. I take it, then, that David’s bedroom should go on the back end of the apartment?”

“Of course, Mistress!” Val agreed cheerfully. “Clearly the Lord’s room would be the primary target of any foeman who dares to invade our land. Therefore it should be as difficult for them to reach as possible.”

“A sentiment I find myself very much in agreement with.” Parisa smiled at the little statue. She doubted there were going to ever be any foemen who try to break into the apartment, but she was finding it to be a fun little game. Redecorating was just the distraction that she had been looking for, an as the current lady of the household it all came directly under her jurisdiction. “Hold on one moment. I think this would work best if we sketched out our ideas.”

The statue nodded, careful to dip her head just far enough to be polite but not so far that she ever lost sight of the door. Of course, now that Parisa had tidied up the apartment via magic she realized that she no longer had any idea where anything had actually ended up. Not that the boys’ piles had been much better, but at least things had been visible. The djinn finally found what she was looking for in the third drawer of David’s desk and quickly hurried back to the living room to start reviewing ideas with her diminutive advisor. Most they could agree on, though every so often Parisa had to put her foot down and explain that no, they could not mount mangonels in the bathrooms or close-in weapons systems under the living room windows, and where had Val even heard of such things? Not five minutes ago she had been nothing more than an overly sexual statue!

Thirty minutes later the laws of space and time had given up in despair as Parisa made enough modifications to the apartment to make sure David never got his security deposit back. The kitchen was five times larger than it had been before, and had gained an additional refrigerator for fruits and vegetables, an off shoot dry pantry, and a walk-in chiller where fresh cuts of meat hung from overhead racks. The small dining counter had been expanded into a full-on dining room with seating for fifty, overhead chandeliers, and a small prep area to keep dishes warm while they waited to be served. That had left one of the living room walls looking awkwardly stretched, so she decided to fill the space with doors leading into guest bedrooms. By all logic those bedrooms should have been located inside of the dining room, but thanks to a little dimensional folding they had enough space for king size beds and attached full baths.

The actual bathroom had also gotten the expansion treatment. The original design had been actually quite spacious for the size of the apartment, but that hadn’t been enough to separate the tub from the shower, let alone the toilet. Once Parisa was done with it, however, each function had been given its own alcove. The tub had trebled in size, now long enough that a tall man could lay completely flat on the bottom of it and wide enough that he could share it comfortably with his choice of company. The shower been refitted with half a dozen extra shower heads, one overhead on each inward facing wall, then two detachable lower down on the center wall with matching fixtures to the left and right. Finally, the toilet had been tucked off to the side, with an additional wooden partition for extra privacy.

That just left the living room. With the dining room and guest bedrooms now occupying one wall and the simulator occupying the other, Parisa had decided to stretch it out lengthwise. The television and couch were transfigured into a stadium-style theater, while more modern armchairs and couches had been moved into the center of the room to create a conversation space.

When she was finally done weaving all her spells, Parisa collapsed into one of her newly conjured chairs and looked at the clock. The numbers eleven-oh-three stared back at her. She’d manage to keep busy for a little over an hour so far. Just another seven to go. Parisa glared at the clock, as if she could mentally force it to be later in the afternoon, but alas, that was a power denied the djinn. They could travel backwards through time to observe events that had gone before, but the dictates of free will made it impossible for them to travel forwards. The decisions that would create the future had not yet been made, so there was nowhere for them to go. There were those who questioned if even God had the ability to travel to the future due to the Divine’s omniscience, but that fell into the same territory as questions such as, “Can God make a sandwich so large that even God could not eat it?”, which sort of philosophizing always gave Parisa a headache.

Parisa tilted her head back and sighed bitterly. An exhausted wave of her hand willed the home theater system to life, tuned to one of the myriad news channels. Which one in particular was of no great importance to her. Oh, true, part of her reason for activating it was so that she could learn more about the world around her, but the more listened the more she realized there really wasn’t much to learn. War, disease, and famine. The names had changed, depressingly few of the places had changed, and the stories remained the same. For all of mankind’s achievements, they really were still just dirty apes at heart.

“Val, I am going to take a nap,” Parisa announced as the broadcasters repeated the same scripted joke for the third time in an hour. “If David or Sam returns home, make sure to wake me before opening the door. I would like the pleasure of showing them around the apartment myself.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Satisfied that the guardian would do as instructed, Parisa flipped the handle on her chair so that the entire thing tilted backwards. The overall state of the world might not have improved much since her father’s time, but furniture had definitely come quite a long way. The fact that it was also a magical chair just made it that much better. The material was firm as leather but soft as fleece, and impervious to any sort of stain or damage. A fuzzy blanket materialized out of thin air to to wrap around her curvy body.

Sleep came remarkably easy to the young djinn. Parisa hadn’t realized just how hard she had been pushing herself in the last three days. Between the sex, the constant use of her powers, the sex, adjusting to an entirely different set of societal rules and expectations, the sex, virtual reality gaming, and, of course, the sex, she had worn herself almost down to the bone. Being a supernatural being meant that it wouldn’t have killed her to continue pushing herself at that rate, but every once in awhile even the most powerful entities needed to just say that enough was enough and take a bit of a siesta.

Even sleep wasn’t a barrier to desire, however. Slender fingers began to slide over golden skin, instinctively seeking out the slick part between her thighs as Parisa’s dreams took a turn for the carnal. They were alone in their bedroom, exploring each other’s bodies under the pale light of a full moon. He rose over her like a silver god, his heavy cock resting on her belly as he feasted at her breasts, nibbling and sucking until she gasped in pleasure. Her body burned with need for him, to feel him filling her, completing her, but every time she reached down to guide him towards her entrance David would just laugh and bat her hand away. Instead his fingers began to probe the entrance to her sex, spreading the swollen lips of her labia as they soaked in the nectar leaking down her thighs. First one, then another and another, until he had managed to force three of his fingers into her tight cunt. Her body clenched as the tips of his fingers began to crawl along her inner walls, searching for the collection of tiny ridges that marked her g-spot.

“Daaaaavid,” Parisa moaned as her dream lover continued to tease and torment with deft touches. His free hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat to his mouth. She let out a startled gasp as his teeth pinched the thin skin of her throat. It didn’t really hurt, but he’d applied enough pressure that she knew there would be a mark there later. That was just fine with Parisa. She’d proudly wear any mark their lovemaking left behind as visible proof of her husband’s talents and her own desirability.

Her chest tightened as the heat building in her loins exploded into an out of control inferno. She felt her world teetering on the edge of oblivion as his fingers drove deeper into her slick tunnel and his tongue lashed over her hardened nipples. She had long since given up trying to return the pleasure, but instead surrendered to her husband’s need to possess her. His weight shifted above her as he centered himself between her legs, with the broad head of his cock perfectly positioned against her wet slit. Parisa’s breath caught in the back of her throat as she waited for him to press forward, but instead he paused and looked up at someone just out of sight. “I’d say she’s ready.”

“Perfect,” a masculine replied. The mattress dipped sideways as a third party climbed onto the bed. Parisa twisted around to see who was joining them, only to gasp with surprise as she watched a second David crawl towards her with a predatory look in his eyes. He made a little spinning motion with his hand as he said, “Turn her over.”

The first David nodded in acknowledgement and slid his hands underneath her ass. The room spun as he flipped Parisa onto to her stomach. Next he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up onto her knees. His cock pushed into her eager snatch, splitting her open with one deep thrust. She barely had time to register the sensation of being properly filled before the second David grabbed her by the back of the head and shoved her face toward his own erection. Parisa’s lips parted eagerly as she swallowed down his length, not pausing until she felt the fine hairs on his sack tickling her chin. Second David’s hands remained steady on the back of her head, holding her in place as he asked the first David, “Ready?”

“Ready,” the first David confirmed.

“On your mark then.”

The first David nodded and began to back his hips away. Parisa moaned around the cock buried in her throat as she felt him withdraw. His thick shaft dragged against her inner walls, creating the most delightful friction. He kept going until he was almost fully withdrawn, then waited a heartbeat before hammering back into her. The young djinn gagged lewdly as she suddenly found herself forced slammed forward and the cock in her mouth slid deeper into her throat. But the second David had started to pull back just as the first David went in, giving her just enough extra room to keep from choking. Then it was his turn to plunge back into her, thrusting his long shaft past the entrance to her throat once more.

“Urgh!” Parisa gurgled as her husbands took turns fucking her. Their bodies kept her trapped, unable to do anything other than brace for the next stroke. She felt like the center ball of a Newton’s cradle as they see-sawed in and out of her mouth and pussy. First one would fill her, then the next, both working in near perfect harmony so that neither one ever quite pushed her past the limit of what she could take. Her mind started to short circuit from pleasure and was soon no longer able to tell which cock was which. All that mattered was that they kept going, until every last nerve in her body was singing with glorious ecstasy.

The first climax hit her hard, a euphoric explosion that started deep in her belly and then burst outward to fill her skin with a fiery tingling sensation. What shallow breaths she’d been managing to take stopped as her pussy clamped down around the first David’s cock, her body desperate for his cum. The boys froze and let her ride out her climax while impaled from both ends.

They began to move again just as the last shudder passed through her body, but this time their rhythm had changed. Instead of taking turns, they started to synchronize their thrusts, filling her throat and cunt at the same time. Their tempo increased as well, moving from a carefully measured pace to frenzy of motion designed to maximize their speed and power.

“I’M CUMMING!” Both Davids screamed in unison as twin pulses of warmth detonated inside Parisa’s body. Warm, salty liquid flooded her mouth at the same time an equally large load painted her inner walls. Both men seemed to have a bottomless reservoir to draw on, as they continued to pump her full of semen. Parisa could feel it pouring out over her lips and cunt, even as a second orgasm went barreling through her. It felt so good, and she never wanted it to end-

“AAAIIIIIEEEE!”

The djinn bolted upright as a lunatic scream snapped her out of fantasy and back into reality. The scream sounded again, this time followed by a somewhat feminine, somewhat squeaky, “Die, interloper!”

Parisa blinked the sleep from her eyes as she tossed her blankets to the side and rolled out of her seat. Heavy footsteps pounded against the wooden floor as Val continued to shriek death threats at whomever had invaded her home. Steel rang against steel, and the screaming turned to muffled cursing in an ancient tongue.

Parisa darted into the foyer, only to be pulled up short by the sight of Val fencing with a man nearly ten times her size. He was dressed in a white polo tucked into a pair of khakis that were only a few tones lighter than his amber skin. The scimitar he was flailing about with had a golden hilt richly studded with gemstones, but the wealth of his weapon availed him naught against his pint sized foe. Val darted left and right, up and down, spinning away from his wild cuts only to suddenly lunge through one of the many openings he left to prick him with the tip of her blade.

Parisa could only watch the battle for a mere ten seconds before she burst out laughing. “Val, Val, stop! Stop! He is not an intruder!”

Val skimmed backwards, holding her sword in a ready guard as she risked a glance at Parisa. “Are you sure, Mistress? He just materialized inside of your home without warning or invitation, and would not provide the password when I demanded it.”

“Val, we don’t have a password,” Parisa reminded the diminutive guardian.

“An oversight I suggest we resolve with all haste,” Val replied. “Are you sure he is not an intruder?”

“Xerxes has intruded on me far more times than I can count,” Parisa admitted cheerfully. “But no, he is not an intruder. He is my brother.”

“And I was just trying to deliver a book!” Xerxes growled, waving his package in front of Val’s face. His own sword also remained at the ready as he glared warily at Val. “Which I tried to tell you!”

“A common ploy,” Val sniffed. She turned and bowed to Parisa. “With your permission then, Mistress, I shall leave him in your custody.”

“Her custody?!” Xerxes shrieked. But Val had already turned around and floated back to her place by the door. Xerxes snarled and looked as if he were about to offer her another challenge, but instead shook his head and turned towards Parisa. “Where in the name of the Prophets did you get that nightmare?”

“I made her this morning,” Parisa admitted. Before Xerxes could reply she wrapped her brother in an overly tight hug. “I was thinking that my husband and I could use her as a guard much like the statues that Father has. But I think I did something wrong. She is much more lively than anything I remember existing around the palace.”

“Those were all carved specifically for the purpose,” Xerxes mused as he tugged at his scraggly beard. He might have been more than eight hundred years old, but try as he might he still couldn’t grow any more facial hair than a fourteen year old having his first encounter with puberty. “I have the feeling I already know the answer, but I assume that you did not create her entirely from scratch? You animated something that was already here?”

Parisa nodded. “It was a figurine that one of the boys had purchased from somewhere. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, and a guardian seemed like a good idea.”

“Hmmm.” Xerxes gave Parisa a reassuring squeeze then motioned for her to take a seat. He flopped onto the couch across from her and leaned forward. “Do you know if the figurine had any particular story or history attached to it? Many animation spells naturally take advantage of those backgrounds.”

Parisa frowned. “I do not know. I assume that it was something manufactured, not created personally, so there is likely some sort of story to it.”

“Well, there’s an easy way to find out.” Xerxes pulled out a cell phone and held it up. “Call her back over here.”

Parisa looked puzzled as she studied the phone. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to consult the all powerful oracle, she who is known as ‘Google’,” Xerxes added with a grin. When he realized she hadn’t understood the joke, he asked, “You don’t have a cell phone?”

Parisa shrugged. “David and I share a mental bond, and when he gathers other wives I expect that I will include them in it as well. Why? Is it a bad thing that I do not have one of these devices?”

Xerxes looked thoughtful as he considered the question. “I wouldn’t say it’s a bad thing per se, but it is unusual for someone in this day and age to not have one. They’re bloody useful things all around.” He clucked his tongue and a second phone appeared in his hand, which he then tossed to his sister. “Here, you can have this one. It’s based off our powers, so you won’t have to worry about charging it or paying for data or minutes. It does have a GPS installed though, so you won’t have to worry about losing it.”

“GPS?” Parisa loved her brother very much, but there were times when Xerxes forgot that not everyone had spent as much time in the mortal world as he had. He would often throw out these strange acronyms and titles for things without bothering to actually explain what he was talking about. Sometimes she could guess, but there was a part of Parisa which was a little peeved that he had interrupted her dream and so didn’t want to put up with having to play those sort of games.

“Global Positioning System,” Xerxes clarified. “The humans have these machines called satellites in orbit. The phone will talk to them and certain towers, and based off which ones it is talking to tells you where you are on the planet.”

“Ah, I see.” Parisa twisted around to the foyer and called out, “Val, could you join us for a moment?”

“Of course, Mistress!” The guardian zipped into the living room and alighted on the glass coffee table in the center of the seating area. “How may I be of service?”

“Assume your original pose and face my brother.”

Val did as she was told, landing with her sword held high. Xerxes quickly snapped a picture and ran it through a quick image search. Sure enough, that the top fifteen hits all identified the statue as the same thing. Xerxes grunted in amusement then leaned forward and handed the phone over to his sister. “And I think we have a winner.”

“Skalmöld?” Parisa pronounced it as ‘Skal-mold’. There must have been something off about the pronunciation, as it caused Val to frown.

“I think you mean, ‘Skal-meld’,” the statue corrected. Her face flinched as something changed in the animation spell changed. When she next spoke, the statues voice had become more melodic, with just a hint of a Nordic accent. An odd look came over her face as she said, “I remember.”

“Remember what?” Parisa asked, her voice thick with confusion. She looked at Xerxes, who nodded in understanding. But instead of answering Parisa’s unspoken question, he looked down at Skalmöld.

“Tell me, Valkyrie, of Odin’s Halls and the coming of the Giants.”

Skalmöld nodded. “I am a Valkyrie, those who choose the warriors to stand the field of Ragnarok. I am to stand at Freyja’s side as the water of Nifelheim quench the fires of Muselheim to birth the world a-new. Until the Horn is sounded I stand by my Mistress’s side, bearing the blade with which she tests the worthy and damns the unworthy.” Skalmöld frowned as she looked down at the table she was standing on. “Though I am also much shorter than I remember.”

“You could fix that, you know,” Xerxes said to Parisa.

“You mean make her larger?” Parisa frowned as she considered it. “Then what would we do with her?”

Xerxes shrugged. “What you originally planned to do with her. She is still a guardian statue, just now she is one that remembers being something else. Besides, if you were to make her full size then she might actually be able to guard this home of yours. No offense little sister, but she wasn’t exactly defeating me when you interrupted, and I’m not nearly as great a warrior as some of our family.”

“This is not going to get me in any sort of trouble, will it?” Parisa asked.

Xerxes snorted and shook his head. “You’re hardly the first djinn to over do a spell. She’s still a guardian animate, just one with character. You haven’t violated any of the Seraphim’s proscriptions. At least this one is only partially anatomically correct. You should have seen the look on Father’s face when Adar created his first guardian.”