Rob, an erotica artist and writer (fictional character in real world route)

ALL CHARACTERS FEATURED AND DEPICTED IN THIS STORYLINE ARE 18 YEARS OF AGE OR OLDER

Pin-up and porn artist.

Erotic author.

Chronic masturbator.

Those are words that Rob Daily would use to describe himself (though never in open public) and, all in all, he was quite happy with that description and himself. Now being in his mid-30s, it was a long road to get to that point, but there was very little he could complain about. Between his part-time job and his commission work he was able to sustain himself and live quite comfortably, and his art and writing allowed himself to express himself creatively, taking his favourite fictional characters and turning them into smoldering hot pin-up models, or letting his imagination run wild with sexy scenarios to put them in.

Rob put the finishing touches on his latest commission work, feeling satisfied for now, before saving, eyes quickly glancing over his archive and the bevy of fictional beauties he had made tribute to. Nico Robin. Wonder Woman. Elastigirl. Cammy White. More and more, dozens and dozens of inked goddesses, tantalizing but lifeless, radiating an allure Rob had been all too aware of his since his teenage years.

His life had very little he could complain about, but what little would be impossible for him to resolve.

Feeling his hormones rushing, Rob pushed away from his computer with a sigh. Last thing he wanted was to feel sorry for himself. Rob was a big guy, not fat or muscular or anything - just big. It would be the best way to describe him. Broad and tall and stout, with thick legs and arms, barrel-chested and a bit of a belly, and he didn't get this way by practicing moderation or prudence. In addition to lusting almost exclusively over cartoon women, Rob enjoyed his food and drink, and tonight he felt like celebrating.

He was nearing the anniversary of his first commission piece, so he had gone out looking for a nice bottle of something, anything, that could match that celebratory feeling. Wine or scotch or rum or port or sake, he had a palette and a thirst for anything, when he stumbled across a funny and fascinating bottle at a foreign market. He had never had the Turkish grape brandy raki before, but he was always willing to try something new, and the bejeweled, gold bottle drew his eye from across the shop floor in a heartbeat. Add to the fact it was the last bottle the store had and the shopkeeper wasn't sure if they could get that specific brand again and Rob was sold.

Licking his lips, Rob worked off the stopper from his bottle, nostrils flaring to take in the sharp, sweet aroma of anise he was expecting to follow.

Instead, after the cork came off with an echoing POP, purplish smoke began to belch out of the open bottle, much to his shock and surprise. Nothing he had read online said raki was suppose to do it. And, while he was no scientist, he could quickly tell that there was more gas in this bottle than could physically be possible, as his whole kitchen was consumed by the flood of smoke, soon to be his entire apartment.

And yet, he was not alarmed. The smoke had a pleasant, almost seductive earthy tone to it, that sent a pulse of pure calm and zen through him, like burning sage and orange.

It also didn't help that when the smoke settled, it revealed an absolutely gorgeous women nestled within. Rob's heart skipped a beat, wondering if he was dreaming or anything, but all he could do was gawk at this gorgeous phantom laid bare before him.

Her skin was black. Not dark brown like an woman of African extract, but black, the colour of polished onyx, drinking the apartment's light, as it gleamed like metal or gemstone. She was nude, her small pert breasts topped with nipples an even darker shade of black than her skin, and those being capped with heavy silver rings that had a trail of three stones dangling from them. Similar silver rings were pierced through her nose and pointed elfin ears, but without the gems, while her arms and hands were loaded with bejeweled rings and bangles, all the stones on her jewelry a chaotic panoply of colours that stood out all the more against her skintone. Her white hair, teased and tussled into an elaborated do, sparkled and shine like polished silver, while her make-up - lipstick on pouty lips, mascara on long, luscious lashes, and eyeliner on her heavy, half-shut eyelids - were bright gold.

Sadly, everything below her waist, privates included, trailed off into the swirling storm of mist beneath her, but that wasn't a deal breaker for Rob. He was torn between continuing to stare at the woman, immediately trying to woo or fuck her, or stopping everything to capture her beauty in a drawing. The mystery woman only regarded him with a bored, disinterested look, sea blue eyes peaking out between her half-open, half-shut eyelids.

"Okay, so, I guess you're my Master..." she muttered in a tone as equally bored and disinterested tone, her voice a low thundering rumble, but sweet and thick like honey. "Which means you're entitled to three wishes, or whatever..."

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. Three wishes? Master? She was genie! If Rob wasn't dreaming or having a stroke (and he was 30-40% sure he wasn't) he had a real life genie before him. He had written more than few stories involving them, drawn more than a few girls done up as a stereotypical genie, so immediately had a rush of ideas hit his head.

Eyes wide with shock and desire, Rob opened his mouth, only stopped when the genie held a hand up.

"Uh, yeah, before you say anything... there are, like, rules and junk you should now." The genie said, listless and lifeless, she seemingly sank into the smoke cloud, looking away at from Rob while twirling a lock of her hair about. "I've done this a lot, so I kinda already know two of your wishes. A big dick and lots of money, mortals are all the same, but I still got to do it...

"You cannot alter the number of wishes. You get three. No infinite wishes or stuff either...

"Your wishes can't effect me or any other genie, so don't even try...

"I can't effect life or that thing your mortals do... dying. . No immortality, no resurrections...

"I come from another reality, way nicer than this one, but your wishes can't allow you to access it or anything about it...

"And when I grant you your third wish, I'm gone. From this place, from this reality, so make those wishes count..."

The genie looked back to Rob, looking at him the same way a teenaged cashier would look at an abusive customer after a ten-hour shift. "So... do you want that money and that big dick now?"

Ouch. Rob definitely felt called out, but he couldn't lie, those definitely were wish number one and two. "Uh, yeah, I-"

"'Cause you have to phrase properly. Say 'I wish for whatever'."

Rob nodded after being interrupted. Then, summoning up as much authority and confidence as he could muster, he declared in a deep baritone. "Genie, for my first wish, I wish to be fabulously and extravagantly wealthy!"

The genie barely reacted, raising a hand and giving a lazy snap, her fingers sounding like a cannon shot which reverberated through Rob's soul. After the dying tings of the soul echo faded, Rob quickly checked his bank account on his phone, eyes bulging out at all the zeroes he saw. He would later find his wallet was bursting at the seams with bills, too.

"And now the big dick..." The genie drawled. It wasn't a question, but it did earn a chuckle from Rob.

While he was no player or Casanova, he felt his penis was a good enough size to be confident and comfortable with, so he had a similar yet different idea in mind.

"Genie, for my second wish, I wish I were a total sex god, masterfully skilled at sex and bringing my partner to pleasure, able to control my orgasms and cum production, and have no limit to how many times I can orgasm in a day!"

To be honest, a part of Rob was hoping this would earn a bit of surprise, or any reaction, from the gorgeous genie, but she just nodded listlessly and snapped lazily again. This time, Rob felt a jolt of energy emerge from his groin, before spreading through his body, his being vibrating with power, followed by an instant erection, his cock engorging itself with these newfound abilities, eager to be used.

"And this final wish? Hopefully it's a good one..."

With the rush of lust from his second wish, Rob almost blurted out for a sloppy blowjob from this sardonic, lazy genie he found himself with, but he pushed that aside. He had a huge chance in front of him, and just one BJ seemed like a waste. He paused and thought for a moment, the genie sighing in lamentation as he took his time. He had wealth and was now a walking, talking sex god, so his next wish had to be rooted in those two. He was thinking some sort of harem, when his eyes glanced back to his computer, back to his archive of works. Digitally painted beauties staring back at him with sultry eyes.

A devious idea came to him all at once and he immediately pounced on it.

"Okay, genie," Rob began with a smile. "For my last wish, I wish all my favourite female fictional characters existed seamlessly in this world, that the world would conspire for us to cross paths, and that all of these women would be fated to become my loving and obedient slaves!"

This actually earned a modicum of emotion from the genie, as she quirked an eyebrow. "Well... at least you have a bit of creativity to you..." she muttered before snapping. "Wish granted..."

With a thunderous bang and clangour, like the Earth were about to be torn to pieces, a wave of energy rippled through the world, twisting the threads of reality with casual ease. After the initial blow, Rob blinked a few times, staggering from the impact, opening them up to find the genie was gone. Not a hair nor hide nor puff of smoke remaining. Just Rob and his golden bottle of raki.

And, a new world for him to play with.

Despite his love of food and drink and whacking it, Rob's one true vice was his lust of fictional women. He didn't want a nice girl next door or whatever, he wanted the beauties of page and ink and screen come to life. Paper and ink made flesh and blood. Fantasy made reality. Dreams made truth.

He had done it, Rob realized, trembling at the thought.

After minutes of being lost in this haze, Rob looked back at the open bottle of raki. While he still wanted to celebrate, that just seemed so minor and weaksauce compared to what he had accomplished. Besides, he had an entire world of fantasy women out there, waiting for him to take them and own them, it would be a waste to just stay in and drink by himself.

So Rob grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. Wondering where life would take him, and which women life would lead him towards.