Three More Wishes: Be Kind To Your Genie (8 page)

“Kristin,” I said, “go over there and ‘break up’ with Nathan. But act classy about it; no scumbag-ness.”

Kristin detached herself from me, walked over to Nathan, and took his hand in hers. He looked at her in surprise, then at me in puzzlement.

Kristin said, “I’m fond of you, Nathan, and you make me scream in bed. But Marvin is a world-class lover, and he has chosen me, so you and I are done.”

Kristin then used her free hand to pull Nathan’s head down for a kiss.

Then she said, “But Nathan, we’ll always have the Paris Hilton video that we acted out. I wish you well.”

Then Kristin turned, and walked back to me.

Both Nathan and his buddy were open-mouthed in amazement. Considering that Nathan was secretly gay, and that Kristin had been gay yesterday, Nathan’s amazement was understandable.

****

A few minutes later, I had dropped Elena off at her first-period class, and I was walking Kristin to her own first class. Walking toward us in the hallway was a business teacher, Mrs. Ashcroft. That young and shapely teacher was staring at us.

Mrs. Ashcroft stopped in front of us and said in a tight voice, “I hear stories about you this morning, Kristin.”

Kristin replied, “If you’re hearing that I acted like a complete nympho in a cheap motel room, those stories aren’t true.”

Mrs. Ashcroft visibly relaxed. “That’s good—”

“Because the stories don’t go far enough. It was
life-changing
, Bethany.”

Both Mrs. Ashcroft and I blinked. But I think I was faster to figure things out. “Mrs. Ashcroft, last night Kristin gave me her
carpet shampooer
. So now if you want your
carpet shampooed
, you’ll need to ask
me
instead of
her
.”

Mrs. Ashcroft frowned at me. “There are other places I can find shampooers, you know.”

“True, but you know the one I have now is
well maintained
. And it remembers the settings you like.”

“Still, the fact that I must ask
you
now, complicates...” Then Mrs. Ashcroft’s frown-lines disappeared, and her eyes changed expression. “I think there are still two or three donuts in the Teacher’s Lounge. Would you like me to get you one?”

All in all, Wednesday was shaping up to be an eventful day, and it wasn’t even First Period yet.

Ah, the joys of first-period Physics. Usually my biggest problem was sleepiness. Not today. (Although I was
definitely
sleepy.)

The guy’s name was Jim-Something. He leaned over while Mr. Lloyd was writing on the blackboard and muttered, “C’mon, dude,
spill
. You know we want to know.”

I didn’t even look at him. “Jim, I need to finish my trig homework before class. Do you mind?”

Jim’s voice was a leer. “Yeah, we all know the two reasons you didn’t finish your trig homework
last night
: A, Elena Garcia, and B, Kristin Curry.”

Marty Nixon leaned in and said, “At least tell us where you went to do the deed. Your house, Elena’s house, Kristin’s house, Motel 6—where?”

I glanced around. “Would you believe, we spent all night chomping pizza at CiCi’s?”

Five male voices said as one: “Are you fucking with me?”

When the Dismissal Bell rang, Mr. Lloyd held up his hand. “Marvin, a moment please.”

Seconds later, I was standing in front of his desk. “Yes, Mr. Lloyd?”

He said, “Marvin, you are usually a good student in my class, paying attention to my lecture. Today it was obvious that you were distracted. I hope tomorrow that you will return to giving me your full attention, and fully participating in class discussions.”

“I will, Mr. Lloyd. I’m sorry to let you down.”

“On the other hand, Marvin”—Mr. Lloyd’s face broke out in a leer—“if
I
did what
you
supposedly did yesterday, I’d be distracted, too. You lucky, lucky dog!”

****

Hours later in the school cafeteria, Bob and Christopher both looked shocked when Elena set her lunch tray down next to mine. But then I said to Bob and Christopher, “Will you watch our trays, please? There’s something we need to do.”

“Sure, no problem,” they each said. Then Bob and Christopher gave each other looks that said
Do YOU know what’s going on? Because I sure don’t.

Elena and I walked over to the athletes’ table. The guy next to Jorje slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Brace yourself, bro. It’s your turn.”

I don’t know what Elena said to Jorje, because she said it in Spanish. But then she kissed him hard on the mouth. And just when everyone (including me, to be honest) started to wonder whether Jorje and Elena were getting back together, Elena stepped away from Jorje and walked back to me. And everyone who could see the hot stare she was giving me, had no doubt who her man was.

****

A few minutes later, Natasha seated herself in the empty seat across from me at the lunch table. Walking up with Natasha (but not sitting) was a freshman girl. Natasha looked curiously at Elena, then said to me, “I have problem. But not for worry, I have answer.”

The freshman girl, meanwhile, was looking at me as if I were a rock star.

Natasha continued, “Last week, I did invitink you to clothing party. I said, ‘We go as Russian spy couple.’ But now say I, what I was zinkink? Because Russian man is short, and you are not short.”

I nodded. “For the joke to work, you need a guy who is, say, 5′2″. And no guy your age is like that.”
Not anymore.

Natasha said, “Five-foot-two? Someone tell to me conversion.”

The freshman girl rolled her eyes. “It’s 157 centimeters, Anya.”

I raised an eyebrow. “ ‘Anya’?”

The freshman girl said, “When we Russians call Natasha ‘Princess Anastasia,’ it’s a slam.”

“You’re Russian?” I asked. “You don’t sound it.” The girl had a thoroughly American accent.

The freshman girl turned red. “Oh my gawd, I’m such a ditz! Hi, I’m Ilyana Basorsky. Born in Volgograd, but lived in the U.S. since I was five.”

“
Ahem!
” Natasha said. “So I did makink new plan. Instead of we goink as Boris and Natasha, we is goink as Captain America and Black Widow.”

“I don’t know, Natasha,” I said. “I can’t do a Russian accent well, and you’d look funny as Captain America.”

It took Natasha a second, but then she laughed.

I continued, “But here it is Wednesday noon, and the party is Saturday night. How am I going to find a costume that fits me by then? Find a brass lamp and tell the genie to make me a Captain America costume?”

Ilyana said, “I’m not a genie, but I’ll do you right. I’ll make you the costume by Saturday night, and this can be my Final Project for Home Ec.”

Natasha said, “Ilyana is good in sewink. She does makink folk-dance clothinks.”

It took me only seconds to decide. “This works. Ilyana, let’s you take my measurements after school, so you can start your sewing.” Then I realized something. “Shit.”

“Vat?” Natasha asked.

“I promised Anna Kay that I’d tutor her in Trig after school.”

Elena said, “What’s the problem? You can do both at the same time.” Then Elena’s voice got throaty. “And trust me—Anna Kay won’t mind looking at you while Ilyana works her tape measure.”

I said, “Why will she not mind? I stand there, I get measured. Sounds boring, and it’s not getting tutoring done.”

“Marvin, you haven’t figured it out? The costume is
form-fitting
. You’ll need to be
naked
when you get measured. Or close to it, anyway.”

Natasha said, “I did tellink Harold to brink shorts for you. Oh, in speakink of Harold—”

Meanwhile, Elena was biting her lip, and I knew she was thinking sexual thoughts, but was too submissive to say them. So I looked at her and said, “Will you and Kristin come to the Home Ec Lab after school? I worry that Ilyana and Anna Kay might ravish me while I’m defenseless in shorts.”

“Sure, Kristin and I can swing by there,” Elena said, grinning.

“
Ahem!
” Natasha said. “I did comink here, Marvin, also in tellink you that I did invitink Harold Miller also to clothink party.”

Bob asked, “So who’s he going as? Iron Man? Spider-Man? Daredevil?”

Natasha smiled. “Is surprisink.” To Bob she said, “You is not close. Estonia and Kamchatka is closer.”

Christopher said, “Superman? Batman? Nah, Harold’s too short for Batman. Robin?”

Natasha grinned. “Still you is not close. Nobody here can is guessink Harold’s clothink for clothink party.”

Actually, I
could
guess. But I didn’t speak my guess aloud because it sounded so ridiculous.

****

“Really, Marvin, I don’t mind being tutored in Home Ec Lab,” Anna Kay told me.

Kristin made a throaty laugh. “I’m sure you don’t. The scenery will be great.”

School had ended for the day. The three of us, plus Elena and Natasha, were walking toward the aforementioned Home Ec Lab.

Harold ran up to us. “I brought Marvin his shorts, Natasha. These should fit him, like you asked.” Harold pulled his book bag off his back, and it was obvious to me that he barely could slow his book bag as it dropped to the floor. He opened up his book bag, dug out a pair of black shorts, and handed them to Natasha.

When Harold tried to put the book bag back on his back, it was obvious that he was struggling to lift it. So I decided to help him out. By then, Natasha had handed the shorts to me, so I had to help Harold one-handed. Fortunately, his book bag turned out to be no heavier than mine, so I was able to put his book bag on his back without working my arm hard.

Harold stared at me, saying nothing. He looked afraid.

I remarked, “Harold, we’re not exactly friends, but a word of advice: Lose that purple shirt.”

He shook his head. “Natasha brought it to me this morning, and asked me to wear it.”

“Dude, it’s not only purple, it’s
satin
. It makes you look gay.”

Harold said, “
Natasha
brought it to me this morning, and
Natasha
asked me to wear it. Why aren’t you bothering Natasha?”

Then Harold turned to Natasha and said, “May I be excused now? I, uh, have things I need to do at home.”

I’m not sure why it took Natasha a long time to answer that request. I’m also puzzled why, during her long silence, she kept glancing at me. Her looks at me puzzled me mainly because I’d already figured out that the magic pheromones didn’t work on her.

At last she said, “Yes, you may is to home goink.” Harold zoomed away.

(Or he
would have
zoomed away, if his book bag didn’t strain his legs so much. Jeez, his legs had sure gotten skinny.)

A minute later, the four girls and I walked into the Home Ec Lab. I knew that Ilyana would be there, and I expected her teacher to be there as well, to check Ilyana’s tape-measure work. And indeed, those two were there, waiting.

But Ilyana and Mrs. Williams weren’t alone in the room. Not by a long shot.

The room was filled with female flesh.

The Home Ec Lab was full of teen girls, dozens of them. Freshman girls, sophomore girls, and junior girls; among the senior girls were Stephanie Eklund and Diane Young.

There were teachers there, besides Mrs. Williams. My English teacher, Ms. Mott, was sitting next to Kristin’s former lover, Mrs. Ashcroft. Also present were several former teachers of mine, which puzzled me until I remembered that I had “always” looked like this.

Most of the freshman girls looked at me like I were a rock star; all of the teachers looked at me like I were Casanova. I decided that the reason was that many freshman girls were still virgins, while none of the teachers were.

The older schoolgirls were imitating either the freshman girls or the teachers—they were looking at me either with worshipful admiration or with blatant desire. Interestingly, both Stephanie Eklund and Diane Young were showing virgin(?) expressions. Hm.

Natasha looked at the crowd in confusion. “Why is all girls did comink, Harold to seeink? Basketball team is more tall, and red-haired boy on soccer team—”

“Football team, Anya,” corrected Ilyana from across the room.

“—on football team is bigger muscles havink.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Elena. “I can’t tell you
why
Marvin is the biggest stud muffin in the school—”

“—but he
definitely
is Plato Smith’s number-one, Grade-A Prime stud-muffin,” purred Kristin.

Mrs. Williams slapped her forehead. “Speaking of muffins, we have some in the refrigerators. Would you like some, Marvin?”

Anna Kay looked at me and asked, “Does any of this make sense to you?”

I shrugged. “It’s
not
because I’m driving a babe-magnet car.”

By now, Mrs. Williams was standing nearby with a plateful of muffins, looking eager to please. If she’d had a tail, she’d be wagging it.

I shook my head. “Maybe after the measuring. Where do I change?”

“We have our own bathroom,” Mrs. Williams said. She pointed.

The bathroom was painted pink, and there was not a urinal to be found. I made sure to put the toilet seat back down.

Dozens of throats gasped when I stepped out of the bathroom, in all my six-foot-tall, flat-abs, wide-shoulders glory. Mrs. Ashcroft blurted out, “Oh
god
, he looks fuckable!”

Ms. Mott replied primly, “Marvin is more than just a sex object, Bethany.”

****

While Ilyana was taking her tape measurements, she acted businesslike (while still looking at me starstruck). Ilyana took a lot of measurements—then suddenly she looked nervous. “Marvin, um, I have one more to do.”

One of her hands pressed the end of the tape measure against my ankle.

She said, “I, um, need to measure your, um, inseam.”

Ilyana’s other hand, with measuring tape slipping through the fingers, moved up my leg, then hesitated. That’s when the whole room figured out what Ilyana’s problem was.

I smiled at the girl. “Put your hand wherever it needs to go to get a good number.”

And that is how a fifteen-year-old virgin’s hand pressed against my shorts-covered testicles. I heard a teacher say, “Lucky girl.”

Then Mrs. Williams repeated the measuring of me. It actually took Mrs. Williams three times as long as Ilyana took, because Mrs. Williams insisted on explaining everything she was doing. And apparently, there are many “tricks of the trade” when measuring someone for custom-made clothing.

Just as Ilyana had, Mrs. Williams postponed the inseam’s measurement till last. Mrs. Williams was kneeling down, very close to me, with one hand close to my groin, when she “asked permission” with a raised eyebrow. I nodded, she put her hand where it needed to be, and a few seconds later, she called out a number. But she took her time pulling her hand away from my balls; and when she stood up again, she gave me a bedroom smile.

Well, that was a unique experience
, I thought. Now to change into regular clothes, give Anna Kay her promised trig tutoring, then go home and have that long-overdue conversation with Fatima.

Instead, Mrs. Ashcroft yelled, “CAN WE FUCK HIM NOW?” And all my plans went in the trash.

****

Mrs. Williams still was standing close to me. She dropped to her knees again, saying, “If you’re about to fuck, I hope that I may serve you in some way. I am yours.”

At that, Ilyana walked up to me, knelt down next to Mrs. Williams, and said, “I also am yours, and I also ask to serve you. I’ve touched a boy’s thing, so I’m not
totally
clueless.”

I said, “There’s not going to be any sex. I’m going to get dressed, then I’m going to tutor Anna Kay.”

Mrs. Ashcroft walked up. “Tutoring? But we all want to fuck you!”

Anna Kay exclaimed, “Oh god, this is my fantasy come true! They all want him, but I get him!”

We were interrupted by yelling in Russian. Natasha was yelling at Ilyana, and pointing to the door. But Ilyana wasn’t buying—she wasn’t getting off her knees, and she was as loud as Natasha.

I held up a hand while looking at Natasha; she went silent. I turned to Ilyana and almost said to her
I don’t want you to serve me
, but caught myself in time—that would have been a disastrous mistake.

Instead, I said to Ilyana, “Let’s just be friends.”

“Okay,” she said. She blinked, and then the worshipful devotion in her eyes was gone. She stood up. “I like you, Marvin, I always will, but I need to run now. I have sewing to start. See you.”

Ilyana kissed me on the cheek, then loaded up her book bag and left.

Anna Kay whimpered. “No, don’t go. Things were about to get interesting.”

Meanwhile, I was looking down at Mrs. Williams, who still was kneeling by me. “Mrs. Williams, let’s just be friends.”

She nodded and stood up. “I like you, Marvin, I always will, but I need to get the Home Ec Lab ready for class tomorrow.” Within seconds, she was bustling about.

Anna Kay gave a disappointed moan.

Mrs. Ashcroft said, “So does this mean that I’m first to get fucked?”

I looked over at Kristin and Elena. Kristin had her hands at the back of her neck, ready to untie the straps that held her dress up; Elena had her hands on a blouse button—a word from me, and each of them would get naked.

I thought,
I know how to free Elena now!
Taking Elena away from Jorje had been bothering my conscience all day. I could fix that with my little “Let’s just be friends” speech, and Elena would have her mind back—

And then what? Elena had publicly broken up with Jorje on my order. If I sent her away now, she’d be a laughingstock, and who knows if Jorje would take her back?

No, I wasn’t going there. Unless I decided to be a rat bastard, Elena would stay mine. Of course, there
were
compensations.

But that didn’t mean I had to go around stealing more women. I yelled out, “ATTENTION, WOMEN AND GIRLS! IF YOU’RE UNDER EIGHTEEN, LET’S JUST BE FRIENDS! IF—”

“
No-o-o!
” Anna Kay cried. Because high-school girls were suddenly standing up, the fire of desire or the glow of adoration gone from their eyes. These young girls walked toward the exit door.

Anna Kay sighed, and started pulling books and papers from her book bag.

Mrs. Ashcroft was still standing there, still looking at me with red-hot desire.
No way
—the idea of fucking
her
was wrong on so many levels. I raised my voice again: “IF YOU’RE MARRIED, LET’S JUST BE FRIENDS.”

Mrs. Ashcroft said, “Marvin, a threesome might be fun sometime. But right now, I need to go home and start making dinner.” She turned and headed for the exit, as other teachers already were doing.

Anna Kay said, “Marvin, you win. On the first review problem, I got ‘cosine X minus square-root-of-three times sine X, all times one-half.’ Is that what you got?”

And that’s the moment when I went a little crazy.

****

Reader, let me remind you who was in the Home Ec Lab right then:

• Me (duh);

• Mrs. Williams, who was probably wishing that we’d all go away so she could lock up and go home;

• Natasha, who couldn’t figure out why people were acting so strangely;

• Elena and Kristin, who were eager to get naked and have sex with me;

• Anna Kay, who was yearning to live out some sex fantasy she had, but was resigned to getting trig tutoring instead; and

• several dozen unmarried women, they being both students (Seniors) and teachers, every one of whom had been mind-changed by my magic pheromones.

Anyway, I suddenly felt the urge to yell, “I NEED TO FUCK! I NEED TO FUCK
NOW
!”

Anna Kay (and everyone else in the room) went totally silent. Natasha was looking at me like I were a Martian.

Then women were speaking up: “Do me! Do me first!”

Anna Kay asked, “So we’re not doing tutoring after all?”

I grunted out, “No, I will tutor you,
while
I fuck them! Go get a clipboard!”

Then I told Kristin, “Go fish my car keys out of my pants. Go to my car—East parking lot, 1995 Chevrolet Corsica, faded blue paint, ‘X104.3’ bumper sticker—and get my condoms out of the glove compartment.
Run!
”

Seconds later, I slapped my forehead. “Kristin,
don’t
run! But move as fast as you safely can in those heels.”

Then I called out, “Does anyone have a condom with her?”

“I always carry some,” a voice answered.

Standing up and holding a white-packaged condom was my former Biology teacher. Miss Collins had long, black hair; and enormous breasts that made her white lab coat hang in intriguing ways. Needless to say, this Biology teacher inspired biological fantasies in 90 percent of her male students.

I stood up and gestured toward the Home Ec Lab’s couch. “Come join me, Miss Collins.”

She walked with a hip-sway that I’m sure was never taught in any Education class. “Marvin, my lovers call me ‘Susan.’ ”

Anna Kay ran up to me then. “I have a clipboard!”

****

Sometime that night, my English teacher was fucking me and yelling, “It’s so good, oh yes, it’s so good. The circle is now complete, the student is now the master!”

I’ve never heard of an orgy as strange as this, and it wasn’t only Ms. Mott and my other sex partners who were acting strange.

I was obsessed with fucking every woman there,
and
I was obsessed with tutoring Anna Kay.

While I was lying on top of this woman or that woman, pistoning away, Anna Kay was kneeling beside the couch, holding the clipboard where I could read it. And I was going through each review problem that Anna Kay had written up, telling her what she’d done right, pointing out where she’d gone wrong, and making suggestions when she got stuck.

Normally, I couldn’t do that. If for some crazy reason, I’d try talking about Trig while my penis was trying to party, I’d swiftly lose my erection. That, or I’d be unable to concentrate on Trig. But somehow, the genie magic was enabling me to multitask—hell, the magic was
making
me multitask.

To the annoyance of my sex partners. At least a dozen times I was asked, “Can you stop with the damned Trigonometry, and talk only about pounding my pussy?” To which I replied, “Sorry, but Anna Kay still gets my attention.”

(Each time I said that, Anna Kay stuck her hand in her panties and said, “That is
so hot
.”)

But along with my craving to fuck women was a craving to enslave them. It turned out that a woman became my touch-slave as soon as
any
part of my body touched
any
part of hers. So really, to enslave a woman, all I needed to do was fuck her and then say, “I claim you.”

But opposing this urge to create a harem was the feeling that I must not do anything so selfish that it would offend my parents.

Yeah, I know how that reads—in print, it makes me sound like a goody-two-shoes. Well, I wasn’t that at all—I was fucking women who, in most cases, had boyfriends. But I would be damned if I stole those women away from those boyfriends.

So at the end of most of my fucks in the Home Ec Lab, as I was peeling off the used condom, I looked at the woman and said, “Let’s just be friends.” That included Miss Collins, by the way, because she was seriously dating a chemistry teacher over at Ewert Grant.

At some point, Natasha made a call on her cell phone. (Don’t ask me when. I was distracted at the time.) Sometime later, Harold walked into the Home Ec Lab, still wearing that purple satin shirt. Harold stopped to stare at me and my current couchmate—till Natasha whistled. When Harold got near Natasha, she yanked down her panties and pulled up her skirt, as he dropped to his knees. For the next hour(?), he ate her out.

Eventually, Anna Kay and I worked our way through her trig assignment. And as soon as I finished the trig tutoring, my craving to fuck (and claim harem slaves) vanished.

By then, I’d fucked eighteen teachers and senior girls in the Home Ec Lab, plus Elena and Kristin. Somehow, even with all that fucking, the sex never got painful for me.

When I returned to my senses and was no longer fuck-crazed, I had claimed Bellina Mott, Stephanie Eklund, and Diane Young. Minutes later, when I finally changed clothes and walked out of the Home Ec Lab, I was surrounded by five young women, all of whom were my claimed harem slaves.

But life was not all roses as I walked out of the Home Ec Lab, no sirree. Once again, it was late in the evening, and I had not started my homework. Plus, I
still
had not talked with Fatima.