Part I

Mike O'Hara wandered down the aisles of the bazaar. It was supposed to be a 'real' Arabic bazaar and had been put together by the local Muslim community as a way to reach out to the parochial American who remained completely ignorant of the actual Muslim religion and culture, but believed the Hollywood depiction where most Americans learned their 'facts' about the world. Mike remembered reading that people thought Oliver Stone's movies were factual. 'Oh my people!!!'

Mike had long been interested in Arabic culture because of the influence it had on Europe. Virtually all the writings of the Greeks, the basis of our Western drama, philosophy, and literature, had been lost in Europe and were restored to the Europeans through the Arabs. He stopped at one shop that had brassware: lamps, hookahs, cymbals, bells; you name it. He picked up several and they were thin and cheap brass. Under and behind several other things, he saw a piece of lapis lazuli. He had to move several things to get it out. Mike had always loved the rich blue of lapis.

First thing he did was turn it over to look for a manufacturing stamp, any Made in China. Nothing. The back looked hand hammered; that sort of detail surprised him. Mike looked at where the various pieces were joined into an intricate web holding the lapis. It was soldered, but in a very old fashioned technique. He was intrigued by the possibilities.

Mike taught art history at the local university and specialized in European art wares, especially medieval hand carvings, mostly ivory, silver and niello. He knew something of jewelry from his work with medieval arts. Brass was never a big thing in Europe in the middle ages, his specialty, but he knew enough to recognize that this piece just might be original. If it wasn't, it was a really clever forgery.

He took it up to the front, "How much?"

The man looked it over as though appraising it for a museum. "Oh, I couldn't let it go for less than one hundred dollars," the man said.

Mike recognized the beginning of bargaining, a social event in the Arab world. "One hundred dollars?" he asked. "For this?" He looked at it and held it out for his inspection. "You see, it is old. I will spend days polishing it before it will even be usable."

"Esteemed Sir, it may be old and therefore in need of polish, but that only makes it all the more valuable," the seller said.

Mike set it down on the table and made as if to leave.

"But..." the vendor said. Mike stopped. "I see that you are a busy man and I know that your time is valuable so cleaning a piece like this, well, let us just agree on eighty dollars and you can have it now," he said smiling.

Mike picked it up and examined it again. "The soldering is loose. That will need repair as well or this fake stone will fall out. Twenty dollars."

"Twenty dollars, for this fine piece of the brass maker's art. Kind sir, you pull my heart from my breast," he said. "Look, is this not as fine a piece of lapis as you have ever seen? Sixty dollars and I will bless you as a man of distinction."

"Forty dollars and I won't tell the other people that this fine shop tried to rob me," Mike said.

"Rob you? I am willing to part with this fine piece, and maybe it belongs in a museum. I will take it tomorrow and they will confirm it, I am sure."

"Forty-five," Mike countered.

"Ah," the man sounded pained and grabbed his chest. "Fifty-five and I cannot go one penny under that," he said.

Mike pulled out his wallet and with great show and deliberateness took two twenties and a ten and put it next to the amulet. Mike looked at the shop keeper and waited.

"I can tell you do want this fine piece of the brass maker's art and it would be terrible to keep it from you." He scooped up the money. "Take it. But don't tell people how I gave it to you like a gift. I will go broke if others find out how easy I am."

Mike picked up the amulet and they shook hands, both smiling.

That night, Mike took the amulet into his study and got down several reference works he had on brass and jewelry. Under a magnifying glass he carefully examined how the various leaves were put together in an intricate pattern, almost living, that held the stone securely. Using his glass he could see that each leaf wasn't machined. It was obvious that they were hand worked, hand molded to cradle the lapis, each mark showing slight differences in depth and angle as the smith had used hammer and burin to make the design. The chain to wear it was lost but he could see where it had been attached in the past.

The design work itself looked most like pictures of works in his books of the Abbasid Dynasty which made it original or a very good copy. Mike thought about cleaning it up with solvents but if it was original he could damage it and destroy the resale value. He had once owned an eighteenth century print and took it in to have it museum mounted. The shop had a new person who didn't understand the value of original prints and glued it to a board, standard for posters. The shop's insurance company wound up owning a worthless print and paying him a chunk. Mike had been very careful with artworks after that.

He set it down on the table and looked at it, wondering how much it could be worth and how he could get it appraised. Christie's had a branch in town. Would he be willing to sell it? If it was worth serious money he certainly would. Then he thought about another possibility; he could donate it to the University. Probably get him a Department Chair or at least a full Professorship if it was museum quality. This was almost as good as winning the lottery, if it was real and not a copy.

He went to bed that night and dreamed good dreams.

Mike had a heavy class load the next day and wasn't home until well after dinner, even skipping a research meeting with two Doctoral candidates he had doing research on Carolingian ivory work, small sculptures and crosses mostly. Neither one was exactly enthralled by the subject, but they were yoked worse than medieval serfs to his pleasure as he held their futures in pawn. If they wanted that PhD they had to make him happy.

He took time to grab a sandwich and a beer, so anxious was he to get a look at the amulet. As he sat down in his study and examined the amulet, he thought maybe he would change the students work from ivory to brass and lapis jewelry. Maybe they would like it better and maybe they could do his work for him. What if it was valuable?

He picked up the amulet and turned it in his hand, trying to dislodge a few spots of corrosion on the back. He still didn't want to take anything abrasive to it until he knew it wasn't valuable. Mike dug in his drawer and found an old gold chain. He couldn't remember what it had come from, but it looked the right size. He strung the amulet on it and put if over his neck.

It had been hot that day and Mike was working in his preferred casual dress, cargo pants and sandals, and nothing else. Crossing the studio where he worked, he looked in the mirror. The amulet seemed to sit naturally on his chest, the deep blue gleaming against the pale skin.

Inside the lapis, she felt her amulet, her prison in this plane of existence coming into contact with a chest. Once it was against flesh, the bond would be formed and once again, she would have a Master. She had long rested in the amulet and was eager to be released. She only hoped this one would be a good Master. It was time to see what fate had in store for her.

Mike was staring in the mirror when behind him, something moved. He could see a thin wisp of smoke swirling behind him. Thinking something was burning, he whirled around. The smoke seemed to coalesce right in front of him. Mike felt the hair on his arms rise. The smoke thickened and became opaque. In a flash, the smoke became a girl.

He stared, open mouthed. A girl, an attractive one at that, was standing before him. She was dressed up in a harem costume, blousy leggings, sandals, red velvet bikini bottoms, red velvet bikini bra, blousy sleeves and flashing jewels. Her skin was creamy and smooth. Mike tried to guess her age, but couldn't. She was obviously at the point when a girl becomes a woman. She was a little fleshier than today's image of feminine beauty, more like a Grecian ideal of Venus. Except for her flaming red hair and violet eyes, she might have been Venus, but this girl was definitely some sort of Celt, maybe the most beautiful young woman he have ever seen.

"Your wish is my command," she said. Could it have been any more trite? Mike nearly laughed.

"How old are you?" he asked. Okay, you stand there in your nice studio having just been scared out of your wits and laugh at his stupid question. But you aren't suddenly faced with a half naked nubile girl in your study and thinking about the Puritans who'd love to put you in jail as a molester.

"I have no age," she said simply.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"I can be any name you desire. I can look any way you would like. I am the djinn of the stone in the amulet," she said.

"If you're like the genie of a lamp, how come you are speaking English?" Mike knew he had her on this one.

"I speak all languages. Would you rather speak Arabic?"

'Hell, ' Mike thought. He just barely passed his language exams for his doctorate, and that was Latin and German. "Uh, no. So I can call you anything. How about Jeannie?" Sure, laugh your ass off at the poor boy, but you weren't there with your brain on overload and the circuit breakers popping. It was the best he could come up with at the time.

"I can be whatever you wish," she said.

"Uh, what's your real name?" I asked.

"I have been known as Evryn," she said smiling.

He nodded. Then asked, "So, do I get three wishes?"

"How many wishes would you like?" she asked.

This abstruse manner of answering questions was getting to Mike. He would have liked a straight answer just once. "As many as I need," he said turning the tables.

"You shall have them," she answered.

"Can I touch you?"

"Of course."

His hand went out and touched her bare belly. It was solid and warm to the touch, her muscles well defined under her womanly softness. "You're real." he said, awed.

"Of course, if you wish me so, or I can be insubstantial if it serves your purpose. I can be whatever you desire," she said.

"Are you an houri?" he asked, his libido overcoming the shock.

She laughed, "Oh no. Houri are only in Heaven. They serve the just."

"Are you the devil's servant?" he asked with a hint of unease in his voice. He didn't really believe in that stuff, but with a genie in your den, it does get difficult to block out those thoughts.

She laughed even more gaily. "How could that be? God is everywhere. How could something exist that is opposite of God, when God is all? Nothing is opposite of everything, therefore, the Devil is nothing; he doesn't exist. I serve at God's will, as do we all."

Mike's hand was still on her delightfully warm belly. It moved over her enjoying the feel of her soft skin. She seemed to notice it and smiled as it moved up close to her breasts, not quite touching.

"Do you wish me to remove the clothes?"

He gulped, caught out in his not so subtle explorations. That smile. She wasn't angry, so Mike nodded. In a flash her clothes were gone and she stood before him like a Goddess.

"Am I to your liking?" she asked. She said it happily, as if the answer didn't matter. Mike could like her or not. No woman is so content with her appearance. "I could be blonde," she said and zap, she was blonde, her eyes suddenly blue. "Or do you like brunettes?" and zap she was a brunette with flashing green eyes.

"I think I like you the way you were. I mean, you looked like a genie," he said.

Zap, she was back, still naked, "And so I am. I think I do know how I could please you. Come," she said seductively. Mike rose and followed her, and how did she know where, to his bedroom. His clothes seemed magically to throw themselves off.

She pulled him onto his bed and it wasn't magic or even surprising that he was hard and ready. Evryn pulled him over her, her legs wrapping around his ass and pulled him forward. Her hand led his stiff cock straight to her pussy which was wet and hot with arousal. She seemed to read the surprise in his mind, "I don't need foreplay," she said smiling. "I am always ready." Her hips hunched up forcing the head of his cock into her pussy.

Mike was in Paradise even if she wasn't an houri. Her pussy grabbed his cock and sucked it in. Mike followed. Mike was overjoyed, the feel of her pussy, the way it massaged his cock like a million fingers covered with warm Vaseline, sucking and pulling his cum from his balls. He tried to hold back, a little, but her hand went round and she pressed against him finding his prostate and massaging it and before he could even think about it, his cum was boiling up and splashing into the girl under him.

Mike hadn't cum like that since the first time he had ever screwed, and he had lasted just about as long. He lay on Evryn, she happily under him and not complaining about how heavy he was. Mike however, was aware and rolled to the side. She cuddled up as the lights went out. Mike was too wasted to wonder about how the lights simply went out and fell asleep, a smile on his face and a beautiful woman in his arms.

After Mike had fallen asleep, Evryn returned to the stone that was her home, her prison, her sanctuary, her danger. She had to return from time to time to rest and restore her power for it came from the stone that held her.

Overall, she was pleased with her new master. He seemed nice enough, though the loving had been too fast to please her. Like all Djinn, when she was on the fleshly plane she could experience the pleasures of sex as was her duty. Over the centuries, she had few men who could really please her, or were even interested in pleasing her. She hoped this new one would come to like pleasing her. It made the servitude more bearable.

Evryn slept but part of her watched her new master, ready at a moment's notice if she were needed.

Mike woke with a start. He opened his eyes to see Evryn sitting, cross-legged, back in her harem outfit watching him. "Good morning. Would you like breakfast?"

He nodded.

"Your wish is my command," she said and disappeared. Mike stared, for it was not like she-hurried-out-of-the-room-at-a-trot kind of disappeared, but one moment he was looking at a girl and the next moment he was not. And it wasn't like the movie dissolve where you can see that things have changed, just not there anymore but everything looks unchanged. Weird.

Mike wasn't sure why, but everything that had happened the night before, and it was wickedly wild and should have prepared him, but it didn't prepare him for that moment. Girls just don't disappear. They throw things at a guy and storm out, or they never answer the phone again, or they get a new boyfriend; they don't just flash out of existence. That was when it really hit him, Evryn wasn't human.

He stumbled into his bathroom and threw water on his face and looked in the mirror. He looked the same. He didn't look crazy, or any crazier than he usually did certainly. He scratched his head and looked again... nope, the same. Mike jumped in the shower and quickly washed up, dressed for class, and wandered to the kitchen.

As he walked in the door, Evryn was setting out a banquet on the table. The table was covered with eggs and bacon, waffles, pancakes, toast, juice, milk, coffee, and preserves. It was more food than Mike could have eaten in a week. "Sit," she said holding up a napkin until he sat, then putting it in his lap.

"Evryn, I can't eat all of this," he told her.

"Do not worry, Master. Nothing will go to waste," she assured him.

Mike shrugged and dove in. They chatted as he ate, Evryn ever attentive. He surprised himself with how much food he managed to plow through. Mike thought, 'I guess I can blame it on the calories I burned the night before, can't I?'

Evryn kissed him at the door wishing him a good day. Mostly, Mike floated during the morning. His class in Renaissance art that morning discussed Palladio and his influence on architecture in Europe. It isn't permissible to say something like influence on architecture anymore; that's too Euro-centric. It must always be clarified with, in Europe or European influenced cultures. 'Boy, isn't that just a handy phrase, ' Mike thought. 'I'm just waiting until I have to say, by men or male influenced culture so the femi-nazis will be satisfied.'

He was sitting in his office that he shared with another assistant professor as lunch time rolled around and he found himself wishing for something to eat. He looked up and Evryn was standing in his office. Mike nearly had a heart attack from surprise. "What?" was all he could muster as he considered what the staff or a student would say finding a beautiful scantily clad girl in his office. Here come da police.

She pulled her hands from behind her back and she was holding two silver trays piled high with fruits, cheese, bread, and a bottle of wine. All Mike needed was a song. "Do you wish me to sing, Master?" she asked.

"Uh, no. No thank you," he mumbled. Evryn set the trays on his desk. "Will you join me?"

Evryn laughed. "Master, I have no need to eat." She poured him a glass of wine and waited.

Mike couldn't think of what else to do, so he started eating. Before he knew it, he had made a large dent in the repast. Is there anything better than wine, bread, cheese, and fruit shared with a beautiful woman, even if she isn't eating? It occurred to Mike as they talked and he ate that he knew little of her and her abilities.

"Do you read my mind?" he asked, having the distinct impression that she did.

"No, Master. But if you wish for something, I hear it. You don't need to wish out loud and I can hear it. So, in that way I suppose you could say I read your mind. But only in that way," she explained.

"So, when I thought about lunch?"

"I heard it, and I came," she said smiling.

"Does distance matter?" he asked.

"No. You might think of me as a quantum state. I can be here, or there, and I do not need to travel from here to there," she said.

He put his chin on his hand. How in the world would a genie, locked in a stone for who knows how long, know about quantum? She simply smiled. "Um Evryn, what is quantum?"

She started into an explanation, "Quantum is the fundamental notion that a physical property may be "quantized", referred to as "quantization." This means that the magnitude can take on only certain numerical values, rather than any value, at least within a range. For example, the energy of an electron bound to an atom (at rest) is quantized. This accounts for the stability of atoms, and matter in general."

Mike threw up his hands, "Whoa. Where the hell did you learn that?"

She laughed, "Master, I know many things. That is from Wikipedia. In performance of my duties, I may draw on anything I need."

"So, if I needed an anti-gravity device, you could make it?" he asked.

She paused, "No, such a device does not exist."

"But it might in the future," he said hopefully. Imagine inventing an anti-gravity machine.

"The future is not yet, Master. How can I know what is not?" she said.

Mike couldn't answer that, since he didn't really understand what the hell she was saying, let alone what she could do. So he nodded thoughtfully as if he did. He was also full by then and a little worried a secretary could walk in and discover this little tryst. "Okay, I'm done. Thank you for lunch. Now scoot," he said. She smiled, and was gone along with the remains of lunch.

Part Ii

Dinner was ready when he arrived home, lamb chops, roasted potatoes, haricort vert, and wine, a dusky pinot noir. Mike recognized the wine label, but he knew it wasn't something he would have purchased, not because of quality, but price. "Evryn, where did the wine come from?"

She peered at the bottle, "The central coast of California."

"I knew that," he said flustered.

"Then why did you ask, Master?"

Having been married once, he knew when he had lost an argument and when to rein in the horses. "Never mind." Dinner was incredible, but it was disconcerting to eat like a king while she simply sat and watched. Mike found himself mentally wishing she would eat too.

"I can, Master, but it is a waste," she said.

Mike shook his head, then remembered, she could hear his mental wishes as well. 'I hope that was all of my mental garbage she could hear, ' he thought. "It would make me more comfortable," he said.

A plate appeared before her. She filled it and happily began eating as if it was what she did every night. They talked about his day, the classes and the frustrations of teaching students who really weren't interested, and wouldn't apply themselves.

After dinner, Evryn cleaned up by the expedient of making everything disappear, whoosh, gone. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, her clothes disappeared as she did.

"Evryn, I didn't wish this," he said.

"Master, you're a man. You did wish it and I heard it," she said simply.

Mike couldn't argue with that because he had been thinking exactly that throughout dinner. She lay back on his bed, looking ravishing. Something about the way she looked up at him, with desire, or lust, something just drove him crazy. Mike tore off his clothes and jumped on the bed with her.

He had been a bit hurried the first time, what with thinking this was all going to go away. This time, he took his time making love to her. Her body was luscious, just at the point of becoming a woman, yet without flaws. Her breasts were small, but still a nice mouthful or handful as the occasion warranted. Her nipples were delightfully hard and pointed. Her belly was flat and firm, and led to a small triangle of red hair covering her pussy but not hiding it. Her legs were shapely and firm. In short, she was perfection.

Mike plunged into her and once again was caught into her warmth as her pussy massaged his cock. It didn't take long as he quickly built to a climax and exploded into her.

After, they lay together, he completely sated. His mind wandered and he was thinking it would have been nice to be Evryn's first lover.

"I could be a virgin," she said.

"What?"

"I could be a virgin, if you wish. Or I could make a new body that is virgin if that is your wish," she said.

This mental telepathy stuff was getting a bit worrisome to Mike. He really needed to rein in his thoughts. "No, it wouldn't be the same. Even if you could make the body virgin, I'd know you had sex before. When I wish for a virgin, I mean a girl who hasn't had sex before, physically or mentally, like some of the girls in class."

She smiled, "I understand, Master."

'Hey, I finally won an argument, ' he thought. That had to be a first. Happily, Mike rolled over and was asleep.

His dreams were filed with visions of girls, girls he had known. He thought of Chrissy, the cheerleader who had snubbed him. All he had to do was wish for Evryn to become Chrissy and he could make his high school dreams come true. And Kathleen in graduate school, the buxom blonde. One wish and Evryn could come to his bed as Kathleen. All the girls he had lusted for in life, he could have now.

The next day went much as the previous day. Evryn awoke before Mike, and when he did, she had breakfast ready. "Yes, Master, I must sleep," she said to his unasked question.

"Jesus," he responded. "You sleep?"

"Yes, I must return to the jewel from time to time to regain my strength. I am a prisoner of the jewel," she said.