Barbara Helens, 30, a neglected housewife

Barbara had adored her uncle as a child. She enjoyed his tales of awe and wonder and his carefree spirit. He had never let anyone dictate how he was going to live or how he should pursue his dreams. Her admiration left her feeling embarrassed and ashamed that she had settled for the quiet, accepted path in life.

She'd gotten an education, found a boyfriend, graduated, and gotten married. She should be happy and fulfilled. But she'd been convinced to be a stay-at-home wife while her husband went out and provided for her. Transforming the charming, loving man that she had fallen for into someone who became more and more absorbed by his work. It had gotten to the point where he'd blow off dates, affection, and even sex if it meant gaining an edge at his work. And sex was something Barbara hadn't had in months by this point.

So, she was a whole mix of emotions when she read the letter from her uncle's solicitor that she'd be receiving her inheritance through the mail. So when the box arrived on her doorstep, she was trembling with anticipation as she opened it.

Inside was a single item. An ornately designed and engraved brass lamp, with a faded sticky note on the side with the words, "RUB ME" on it.

Barbara looked at the lamp, ideas churning within as she realised just exactly what she was holding in her hands. I can't believe this! Who cares about riches or mansions when they have the power of a genie on their side! She thought as she tucked a soft curl of red hair behind her ear. Knowing Uncle Artie had this, all of his gambling bets and business decisions make so much sense now!

"Barb? Barb, where are you, and do you know where my tie is?" Barbara froze at the sound of her husband, Derrick's, voice. On instinct, she plucked the Post-it off the lamp and stuffed it into her pocket. She sighed to herself before calling out.

"In the foyer! And your ties are in the third drawer on the left in the dresser, where they've always been."

"Oh really!? Thanks." Derrick shouted as he quickly appeared, tying his tie before looking at his smart watch. "Can't stay and chat, business calls." He said, not looking at Barbara, but he did notice the box in her hands. "Really? I thought we talked about these silly, kitschy purchases."

"I didn't buy it," Barbara answered. "This is what I inherited from my Uncle Arthur."

With that, all emotion drained from Derrick's face as he spun on his heels. "The man had millions and mansions, and all you got was a paperweight. That's sad." With that final remark, Derrick disappeared out the door.

It was only after she heard his car drive down the street that Barbara rushed into their cramped basement and closed the door. She gingerly placed the box down on a small table and stared at the engraved brass lamp. "Well... we both believed in magic, Uncle Artie... so I have to believe that this is real." She picked up the lamp and held it in her hands. "I know that this is real."

After taking a deep breath, Barbara followed the instruction and rubbed her thumb against the lamp. The metal shimmered under her touch before there was a flash of light as a plume of purple smoke erupted from the lamp.

Barbara stared in awe as the smoke curled and coalesced into an hourglass shape before dissipating. Revealing in its wake, a sculpted and curvaceous towering figure with rich, chocolate skin who was adorned in transparent silks and golden jewellery. The figure turned their gaze and stared through Barbara with their ruby-red eyes and a smirk on their plump, purple lips.

"My name is Nehme." The dusky-skinned beauty declared. "I am the Genie of this Lamp. I shall serve whomever holds my lamp." Nehme reached out and cupped Barbara's cheeks with both of her hands. "Tell me your name, my master."