Chapter Seven

“H-how?”

The question left Jen’s lips before she could stop it. He turned toward her, and she nearly swooned at the sight of his criminally handsome face.

It was the kind that belonged on a billboard—hawking cigars, chainsaws, or some other unapologetically masculine product. His straight nose, square jaw, high cheekbones, and heavy brow formed a countenance more attractive than an industrial electromagnet,

But it was his eyes that were the real panty melters.

Blue and brilliant as a summer sky—and equally as empty of any hint of intelligence.

God, she wanted to climb him like a tree. And that wasn’t normal.

“Ah, Jen… you woke up. Sorry about the racket.”

The man appeared mildly abashed. As though being caught in flagrante with an impossibly cum-stuffed whore was no worse than the proverbial hand in the cookie jar.

“The racket?” Jen gaped, shaking her head incredulously. “You just–you did… that,” her waving hands encapsulated him and Naru, “and your first concern is apologizing for being too loud? Unbelievable! Who the heck are you anyway? Because this all feels like a fever dream.”

Her voice had grown shrill by the end there, and she **** her mouth shut to keep from babbling.

His only response was to dumbly blink at Jen, glance at the insensate slut on his dick, then back at her again. She could practically hear the gears grinding in his skull.

So she waited.

And waited.

Aaaand waited some more.

Eventually, after an interminable period of slow and ponderous deliberation, Mr Beefy Beefcake nodded. He thudded over to the corner, pulled Naro off his still-rigid ramrod, and plopped her on the ground as a torrent of their combined fluids poured from her battered snatch.

“Mmmmm, thank you, master.” The ditzy bint sighed sleepily, curling up against the wall.

Giving her a perfunctory pat on the head, he then turned to face Jen, his glistening girth swinging like a girder and taking out a desk lamp along its lengthy trajectory.

He either didn't notice or didn’t care.

“Um, okay. Right. This is kinda tough to explain. My memories and shit are sorta jumbled.” He began, forehead creasing with concentration. “There was the nice old lady next door–she made me lemonade, and I wanted to be a doctor, I think? Then there’s the lamp, then *poof* Naru pops out, hot as hell, and she’s all like, “What do you want, master? Come fuck my monster titties!” but I totally didn’t. Not straight away…”

Jen couldn’t help staring at his jumbo cock. It was right there—her dream dick, big and raw and occasionally twitching as he weaved his rambling narrative. She groaned when a white pearl beaded at the tip, before tearing her hungry gaze away to regain a semblance of sanity.

“Wait. Sorry—can we rewind a little?” Jen interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing a steadying breath. “Let’s take this one step at a time. Starting with your name, and why I’ve been… brought here.”

She deliberately avoided the word kidnapped.

“Oh, that’s easy.” He grinned. “I’m Jason. You know, from college?” He jabbed a thumb at his slab-like chest. “You borrowed my lecture notes that one time.”

Jen blinked.

“Except I never take notes.” He continued proudly. “Studying is for dweebs. And—oh yeah. I wished you here because you’re gonna be my girlfriend.”

She sat there, momentarily speechless, trying to untangle that nonsensical explanation.

Firstly, the Jason she remembered was a furtive, skinny guy. Quiet. A little shy. The type who glanced her way when he thought she wasn’t looking. But keen of mind and determined to achieve his academic goals.

A good egg–if a quiet one.

Except, at the same time, he wasn’t.

Somehow, Jason was also a classic quarterback jock–this lumbering brute with his incredible, hulking physique and perfect, breast-expanding cock.

Jen mentally floundered trying to reconcile the polar opposites, failed, then latched onto a different point instead before her head threatened to explode.

Secondly, his girlfriend?

A brief, treacherous thrill sparked in her chest before reason stamped it flat.

She could never date a dumb jock like him. They came from different worlds; any relationship between them would implode before it even began. Her rational mind laid out the argument clearly, mercilessly—and she knew it was right.

He’d kidnapped her, for goodness’ sake.

Her hornier side raged behind those bars of cold logic, silent but furious, pointing insistently at the pea-brained sex-god, then made a lewd gesture by stabbing an index finger into a loosely closed fist.

Surely a single lapse wouldn’t matter. One reckless night. A fling. He was certainly… substantial enough to leave an impression.

The thrill crept back, stronger this time.

“Well,” Jen began, glancing up at Jason with what she hoped was a flirty expression. “If I’m supposed to be your girlfriend…”

She trailed off, absently toying with the edge of her skirt before realizing Jason wasn’t listening.

He was busy ogling Naru’s huge rack, pumping his mouth-watering manmeat almost absent-mindedly.

Jen coughed politely, and he snapped out of his testosterone-fuelled daze.

“Thing is, I’ve been thinking, yeah?” Jason said, his head swivelling back and forth between the two girls. “Like, I wished to become your dream guy. And that’s good for you and all, but what do I get out of it?”

There was that word again.

Wish.

A pit yawned in Jen’s stomach when he stooped to pluck an ancient brass lamp off a side table where it had been hidden amongst some sporting trophies. She could feel the power emanating from the polished metal, even as he lifted it.

Suddenly, his explanations didn’t seem quite so deranged.

“Jason.” She spoke carefully, as if he were brandishing a loaded pistol. “What exactly did you wish for?”

He frowned—and even that expression was devastatingly handsome.

“I already told you.” His tone sharpened. “Seriously, Jen, if you’re gonna be my girlfriend, you gotta get good at listening.” He waggled the lamp for emphasis. “And dress sexier. Like your friend Danielle. Those cheer babes are all smoking. Be more like them. Or like Naru—she’s crazy hot too, and an absolute firecracker in the sack.”

“Wha-what?” She reeled as though struck. “Jason… What did you do?”

“That’s what I’m trying to say!” He slammed a fist into his desk. Wood splintering under the blow. “I changed myself into your fantasy sex machine, wasted a wish fetching you here, and you’re just sitting there gawking at me in those frumpy clothes with your—what—five-out-of-ten body?” His frustration mounted, voice rising. “I’m starting to wonder why I went to the trouble. I mean—look at me.”

He gestured broadly at his sculpted physique and preposterous prong.

Jen did look.

She couldn’t stop looking—and now she understood why.

Oh no.

The original Jason had made a catastrophic mistake. He hadn’t just wished for confidence or strength. He’d wished himself into one of her bedtime fantasies—a footballer stud. Big, dumb, and full of cum.

The kind of silly stereotype that only existed in her late-night imaginings while fingering herself.

“I’m a goddamn juggernaut.” He continued, beginning to pace. “On the field, and everywhere else. NFL teams are already sniffing around, and chicks dig a winner.” He scoffed. “I’ll be hip deep in cash and pussy a year after graduation. Where does that leave you? Still in the bleachers. Little Miss Nose-in-a-Book. I can’t even remember what I saw in you.”

“Then let me go.” Jen begged, though a small, dark part of her dared hope he wouldn’t. “I won’t tell anyone. Who would believe me? Wishes and magical lamps? It sounds insane.”

That stopped Jason in his tracks, and he appeared to be considering the proposition when Naru spoke up.

“Or you could double down, master. You still have, like, one wish left. She can be anything you desire.”

The cumflated genie crawled towards them, dragging her huge, sloshing tummy and tits across the floor, hazel eyes gleaming with devious delight. Her drooling lips glommed onto Jason’s monumental meatstick the second it was within reach.

“Mmmmff~!”

“You’re right, Naru.” He declared, immediately grasping her black schoolgirl pigtails to guide her sloppy mouth. “I could probably bag some banger trophy WAG once I’m a big-shot football superstar, but why wait? I wish–”

Jen didn’t stick around to hear the end of that sentence. Leaping off the bed, she wrenched open the bedroom door and stumbled into the hallway beyond.

She would escape—dodge whatever strange sex magic the perverted djinn threw her way.

She’d nearly reached a flight of stairs leading downward when a blast of pink energy rocked the house on its foundations. A cherry-flavoured shockwave raced along the hall from Jason’s room and blew through Jen in a wash of pins and needles.

“Eeek!”

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