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The Genie Who Wanted to Be a Girl

By: Sailor1



------------- Prelude: Very early, about the 6th or 7th Century AD ----------------------

From the sparse artifacts and record fragments it can be determined that, of the small group of genie trainees graduating in this one class, most had absorbed the information and direction well, yet there remained a thread of individualism in each. Some were more pliable, other more impetuous, given to act first and think later, some, especially a couple of the girl genies, were anxious to please and seeking to become the best and most welcomed genies they could be. 

An existence with little else than subjugation and servitude in the future was not really all that thrilling to some, but the world of their day offered little encouragement and, especially for a woman or a girl in a region overrun by one conqueror after another, security and stability were commodities altogether out of reach. Exposed to such conditions in their training, genies typically chose their fate as the less strenuous and demeaning of the two.

Precisely what differentiates genies from humans remains obscure. Physically and psychologically, the two seem almost identical. Little on the topic has survived in the record, and it seems reasonable to conjecture that they are related in ways of which we have little knowledge. The data is too sparse to be more definite than that.

At any rate, their individualism notwithstanding and some more ready than others, the graduates were designated fourth rate genies and sent off to their various assignments.

------------------ Much Further Along, Late in the 20th Century ---------------------

They had been on the beach now about two hours, he figured, and had explored in sufficient scope and detail for his report, and his notebook was full of sketches after they had conferred. They were the ship's beach intelligence team, and doing beach intelligence surveys was part of their work. Their ship was a U. S. Navy amphibious warship and would act as primary control vessel for any amphibious assault landings by the U. S. SIXTH Fleet Amphibious Ready Group then deployed in the Mediterranean Sea. They could put a reinforced battalion of combat ready Marines ashore just about anywhere they wanted and whenever ordered by the admiral in London. 

These surveys and the resulting reports allowed the staff in London to keep good tabs on beach conditions in the Med, and included a whole lot of detail about beach gradients, ability of the sand to support heavy tracked vehicles, foreshore and backshore conditions, egress routes off the beach, access to local roads, prominent structures, local landmarks, etc., and a pot load of similar technical details. After a number of exploratory beachings in the ship's own LCVP, a small landing craft, his team had pretty much gathered up what they needed. For precise navigation, the quartermaster had checked a number of local landmarks against the most detailed chart, the two Marine sergeants, the boatswains mate, and his leading signalman had hiked all around to map out logical sites for troop assembly, strong points to be established, a command post and signal station, and supply dumps. They had done this now a third time on this deployment, this time on a sparsely populated beach in Greece. Another two weeks and they would turnover to the relieving Ready Group, probably at Rota, on Spain's Atlantic coast, and head for the Chesapeake and home.

Returning from a short walk along the water, studying the composition of the coarse sand, he happened upon a small jug or bottle at the water's edge. He thought it appeared very old, like some antique; it was not more than a hand's breadth high, round, with a flat bottom and a fluted neck with some kind of plug or stopper in the opening. The jug's surface was badly corroded, but seemed to be of a very durable material; metal, he thought, from the appearance and heft, and especially the sound as he tapped on it. It seemed attractive and quaint, and, rolling it about in his hand carefully, it felt like something that would be a nice keepsake of these two extended deployments to the Med. He figured he would not likely be back again, as he had orders off the ship when they returned to the States. This interesting little jug would be a clever conversation piece on his desk, he thought to himself, washed off the sand, tucked it in the right hand pocket of his foul weather jacket, and turned back to close the distance to the boat where the others were gathering.

"This would be a great place for a landing, Lieutenant." The one sergeant was more pleased with this site than the last one. "Excellent egress between the dunes to a good hard surface road behind. Prime!" He was thinking of how quickly the Marines could move inland and establish themselves in a crisis situation. 

Their quick conference there on the beach, while everyone's observations and thoughts were fresh, allowed the lieutenant to fill in the blanks, jot down ideas to flesh out the report, and he felt this little foray had been very successful.

Their work ashore completed, they walked up the ramp into the boat, and the coxswain raised the ramp, backed the boat off the beach, and steered for the ship. It was a cool, pleasant afternoon, the sun was shining, and he reviewed his notes in his head as he watched his men. Including the two Marines had been his idea, and had worked out well. Their insight in assessing beach conditions was outstanding. Each, signalmen, quartermasters, boatswain's mates, had added to the total package.

Absently he thrust his hand into his jacket pocket, finding with surprise the foreign object about which he had forgotten, and suddenly wondered what he might have found. Intriguing; but this was not the time to look it over again. It was an attractive little jug, just the same. 

The ship was anchored about three miles away, but they had an hour before chow and then he had the second dog watch on the bridge, and he needed to check with his radiomen, too. The challenges of daily work captured his full attention once more.

In his stateroom about 9 PM, after getting off watch, he set the curious little jug on his fold down desk. He could finally relax a little, and sat down, worn from a long day, and for the first time gave himself over to considering seriously what to make of this strange little antique. Extraordinary, he thought to himself, and very unique for sure. He had orders onward to other duty on the west coast, and this would be very attractive on his walnut desk, with a little cork coaster under it. He looked forward to moving on from sea duty to staff work and more schooling.

There was a knock at his door. "Mister Kurlander, sir?" 

He recognized the voice of his radio messenger. "Come in." "Hello, Sealy. You got the watch this evening?"

"Yes, sir," said the sailor, handing him the message boards, "There's a hot one, sir, and the captain says for me to make sure you see it immediately."

Lieutenant Kurlander was the communications officer, and the message advised that he should be ready for a special shipment of crypto materials when next they replenished underway, which would be three days away. Fine, no big problem; forewarned was forearmed. He signed off, thanked the messenger, and he was gone.

Six hours away and the bridge watch would wake him to take the 04-0800 morning watch on the bridge, and they would be getting underway at 0730 and heading out to sea. He ought to knock off, and set condition horizontal for some shut eye. The little jug on his desk, however, was engaging, and he picked it up again, drawn to it somehow. 

After a minute, he drew his penknife from his pants pocket and scraped away some of the crud around the plug. He laughed to himself when he thought of the plug seeming very much like a hard rubber or some modern composite material. Not likely! With the point of his knife, he nudged the plug until it loosened, and removed it with his fingers.

There was a little whooshing sound and he was surprised beyond imagining at what he saw.

"How may I be of service, My Master?" Her voice was soft and submissive.

It was a girl... well, what looked like a girl, anyway. She was something, he thought immediately, out of the Arabian nights, for sure. She was cuter that he had ever seen; big blue eyes, dark, heavy lashes, and a very pretty face. Her brunette hair was long and full down her back, spilling over her bare shoulders.

She bowed her head in subservience to her new master, and waited for his command.

The visual image before him was a surprise; very pleasing and pleasant, but very much a surprise just the same. She was life-sized, and somewhat smallish, petite perhaps. Her torso was bare save for a light blue silk-like piece of material, draped lightly across her very full and perfectly formed breasts. Her waist was narrow, flaring to full hips. There was a gem of some kind in her naval and a chain about her hips, dipping very low in front, from which hung some kind of material he could not determine, since everything below her middle was vague and disappeared in a wisp of vapor oozing from the jug. It was definitely her breasts, however, that grabbed his attention. 

He appreciated the delicate features of her face, her long lashes shielded her twinkling eyes from him now as she bowed her head, waiting for him to command her, and his attention drifted easily back to her breasts once more. Her tiny nipples seemed to look upward with a pouty pleading for his attention. Her breasts were splendid, sat high on her chest, and seemed to him precisely the ideal size for her figure. Thirty-six? Perhaps; maybe a little less. Probably at least "C"s, he was guessing, maybe a little more, but the more striking thing was that with all that 'top hamper' she did not appear the least bit out of balance in her figure. The light blue silk was technically covering her breasts, but in practice the thin, nearly translucent material was little or no covering at all.

He had not the slightest idea what he might say. He was in no way certain that he was not dreaming.

"You have a command for me, My Master? Please command and I shall obey if I can." Once again, her voice was soft and submissive, and she waited, head bowed.

With some reservation, he asked gently, "Who are you?"

"I am a fourth rate genie, My Master, and my purpose is to serve you in any way you command. I await your pleasure, My Master." Her voice was light and pleasant, and very feminine.

What is going on here, he thought. This is a fantasy beyond imagining.

After a brief pause, trying to gather his wits with this... this genie in front of him, "What is you name, genie. How are you known?"

"I have no name save the one you give me, My Master. I am here to please you, and you only."

"Excellent, young lady, and I will welcome your pleasing me." Yet, he wasn't exactly sure how to proceed. What name did he want to give her? He thought Brianna was a classy name for a cute girl... cute genie, he thought. And, what kinds of things could he require of her? Well, one thing sprang into his thoughts immediately, and he decided to try her.

"Your name, young lady..." he made his voice somewhat more commanding, trying to get into the game here and tell her what to do, "your name is Brianna." That seemed decisive enough, and in response she raised her head and looked at him with an appreciative smile.

"Brianna? Thank you for such a pretty name, My Master." Her blue eyes twinkled for him, and he smiled back.

"Also, Brianna," he was warming to the idea of giving her commands, "you shall be pleased to present yourself to me each time as you emerge from your little jug and then promptly remove the material about your pretty breasts. Do you understand me?" She nodded her head in response, and the light blue silk simply disappeared.

They were perfect! No other word could do justice. They were creamy white, larger than many – he thought his early guesswork was pretty close – and with just classic curves, and with the cutest little tips, puffy and with tiny nipples in a soft, dusky shade of pink. 

Marvelous!

He wanted something more of a performance from her, however. "Let's try that again, Brianna," he instructed with a drawl. "With your hands, take off the material around your pretty breasts. Do it slowly and with feeling, knowing that I very much like to watch you... and then toss it aside."

That caught her off guard, and she looked at him questioningly. He just waited for her to comply.

The material reappeared. After a shy pause, she reached a hand behind her and pulled the knot loose, and the silk promptly dropped away in her one hand. Then, in a casual gesture, she reached out one arm and, in a delightfully saucy manner, deliberately let the silk slide off her fingers. 

His appreciative gaze triggered pleasurable sensations in her tummy that she had never felt before. Well, she thought they were in her tummy. Of course, she was a novice, a fourth rate genie just starting out on her first assignment, and this was all new to her. The other girl genies in her class had moved on to other things after their first assignments and several had progressed further. For some reason she had been stuck, waiting for some human to call her forth.

And he was a man, too, a very handsome man, she thought, dressed all in brown clothes and wearing a dark green jacket. How strange, she thought. She had never seen this kind of human before... but, then, she had only seen a couple of humans before... and none of them had looked like him, none at all. And now he was looking at her, pleased with what he saw, she thought, judging from the smile on his face.

"And so, young lady, tell me about your powers, and how do I use your magic services?"

That snapped her back from her meanderings. "Oh, My Master, I am only a fourth rate genie, and therefore, my powers are limited by my inexperience, but I shall make every attempt to please you in whatever manner you desire," and dropped her head in a slight bow before him.

Was there a double meaning there, he wondered, and was she playing word games with him? No way at the moment to be sure, but the truth would soon come out, he was positive. She had whisked away the blue silk easily enough. Her prominent 'top hamper' – those beautiful breasts of hers, with her tiny little pink nipples – was just delightful and beckoning.

Retrieving his presence of mind from its wandering, he asked her about the mechanics of possessing a genie. She must return to her jug, she explained sweetly, when he commanded, and she would come forth immediately when he removed the stopper. Anything he commanded her, she would then attempt to grant. Anything, he thought to himself, left a lot of latitude, and ruled out very little.

He asked whether she had others to serve, and she looked at him oddly. "Oh, no, My Master, I am here to serve you alone, and any wish you express I will seek to fill if I can."

The very thought of her being real was more than one busy naval officer at sea could fathom... let alone wish, though he was trying hard.

"You are a very pretty genie, Brianna. Does it embarrass you to be bare breasted in front of me?"

"Your wish is my command, My Master." That was a proper statement, and true enough. "But, it does," she dropped her eyes shyly and couldn't help a smirky comment, "make me tingle inside."

Hmmm, he thought, she's a saucy little wench in her own sweet way, even if a genie. Very alluring.

"Brianna, raise your arms above your head for me." She did not hesitate a second, though her motions were graceful, unhurried, and very feminine. Her body was a classic work of extraordinary artistry, and he had never seen anything remotely so beautiful. Photography of bare-breasted women, or women nearly so, is not so rare these days, and few men remain oblivious to them, even though such was really not his style. He had, therefore, the imagery to allow him to be very discerning and discriminating, and his own rather exacting standards did not keep him from appreciating her exquisite form. Exquisite, indeed; she was flawless! How many artists had sought such perfection in stone and on canvas, and here he has perfection presented to him from a little corroded jug found on a remote beach. Is she for real?

He motioned to her to turn around, and she did so, slowly and with poise, glancing back at him over her shoulder, shy and not at all sure that he was happy with her.

And her shape and form and curve and coloring were exquisite. That was his own evaluation. Aside from that, a personal opinion with so many superlatives might be roundly dismissed as hyperbole. It is a common human error to elevate what one finds beautiful to the ultimate standard of perfection. Understandable; intellectually shallow, but understandable. Nevertheless, where the beauty of this particular young girl's body is the topic, hyperbole is simply unavoidable. More to the point, superlatives provide the only accurate measure, and they may yet fall short of the mark.

For Brianna, only her inexperience kept her from seeing it in his eyes. He was very pleased, very pleased indeed. No implants, no cosmetics, no monkeying with the design, just a fresh, vibrant girl with a wondrously beautiful figure, including her spectacular 'top hamper.'

Then, like a bolt of lightning, he realized that only a curtain covered the opening from his stateroom to the passageway beyond, and anyone walking by might knock and enter, especially one of his fellow officers. 

"All right, Brianna, I want you to feel welcome in my life. You make me pleased to have you as my genie." Was somebody listening out in the passageway? He hoped not. "Return now to you jug, Brianna. I will call on you again soon." He was getting into the mindset of ordering his genie about.

"As you wish, My Master," she bowed her head and the wispy vapors about her drew her back into the little jug with a whooshing sound.

He watched the process with interest, considered what lottery might have bestowed this magic upon him. A fantastic voyage of his own making now awaited him, and he carefully replaced the little stopper.

As stimulating as was her presence with him, he had to think about circumstances, what to do with his genie, for instance, and how to keep her safe. The coming days would be challenging, and he needed to get some rest. 

Rest? Fat chance now with the vision of this girl... this genie in his head. She was a first rate cutie for sure; very much like his wife before he lost her in the auto accident with that drunk driver. For the first time since her loss, he felt his heart warming a little. Brianna was as choice a beauty as he had ever seen, or ever hoped to see.

After a sandwich in the wardroom, thinking about her, of course, and then a shower to try and relax, he lay in his bunk trying to sleep. She was a real beauty of the first magnitude. She looked like she was about nineteen, well, like a girl nineteen, her eyes twinkled for him, those long lashes and her shy smile were enough to tear him up inside. Her breasts, however, were just too perfect to imagine. When she had turned, they swayed softly, and as she leaned over they swung away from her chest daintily. Beauty beyond perfection!

He got some sleep before going on watch, but not much.

The next days and weeks were as full as had been those before them, fuller now for him with his mind-altering experience with his genie. Between watch standing on the bridge, and managing the communications for the ship, including the coding operations and handling the crypto equipment and materials, the days and nights were filled with things to do and coordinating with others. They fueled again from the oiler for the last time for this deployment, and he received his crypto shipment as advised. Ten days later they turned over at Gibraltar to the incoming ready group. There was a party ashore at the British officer's club, and that was nice, but through all of this, he had to struggle to keep control of his thinking because she was ever in his thoughts. The first thing when he awoke, frequently through his waking hours – whether night or day – and the last thing before dropping off to his normally exhausted slumber, she was there... her sweet smile, her pretty face, her dancing blue eyes and long lashes, and her magnificently perfect breasts. 


The Genie Who Wanted to Be a Girl



There was usually time each day, sometime, to call her out and chat a little – and each time, in a slightly different way, she shed the blue silk with a feminine flourish that sent his desire for her into orbit, and his hot blood in large quantities to a lower extremity. 

Besides his growing excitement, he began to be anxious that somebody would lift or even just open her little jug if he left it in his stateroom. He began carrying it... her... in his jacket pocket, and finally realized the best place to chat with her and keep her jug was in the crypto shack. Since he was the crypto officer, no one went in there except with him. Then, for very safe keeping, he put her... she and her jug had now become simply her, as were they synonymous... in a special place in his crypto safe. Regulations forbid non-crypto materials in the safe as matter of policy, but doubtless no one in the Navy Department had anticipated his particular need.

At Gibraltar, however, an additional wrinkle entered his life, which he should have expected. His relief met the ship; a freshly minted ensign, right out of Fleet Communications School at Newport. The five day transit across the Atlantic would be filled with training and relieving matters. The bright spot was that upon arrival Norfolk, his orders read, he was detached for further assignment. He didn't like leaving her in the safe, but he didn't want the other fellows even to suspect what he had found. If they did, he knew, they would badger him unmercifully, and there was no way he wanted to share her; not with them, not with anybody.

Waiting, nevertheless, was not easy. One night after getting off the evening watch at midnight, he went to the crypto shack, opened the safe, and then, after a moment's hesitation, pulled the stopper. She appeared as before, smiling for him with those big blue eyes, and, in a smooth movement he now anticipated with pleasure, she reached behind herself... and whisked the blue silk away.

Mesmerizing!

"Good day, My Master. Are you pleased with me as your genie?" she asked softly, begging his approval.

The question was quite superfluous. Had she had more experience with humans and men humans especially, to know how to read their faces, she would certainly have seen his appreciation of her in his eyes. She was, nevertheless, learning, and learning quickly.

She asked him gently if he lived in such a small room all the time. Did he never get to go outside at all? He realized her picture of him was very fragmented, and not just him but the world in general. He wanted to provide her with a broader view of things. He felt immediately the desire to take her outside. It was dark, they were in mid-Atlantic, and she would appreciate the scenery, he thought. He couldn't risk anyone else seeing her, though.

"Brianna, can anyone else see you but me?'

"Only if you wish them to, My Master." That seemed a strange question to her, but then so many things about humans were strange to her. Her trainer had instructed her to anticipate nothing until her master commanded, and the idea now of trying to imagine what he was thinking was altogether foreign.

That was all he needed to know. "Back in your bottle, Babe!"

"'Babe?'" she queried sweetly with her smirky smile, "Is that another name for me, My Master?"

"Yes, Brianna, it is. I'm taking you on an adventure. In you go, now."

Whoosh.

Outside in the darkness he sought a secluded place, and finally found one on the little catwalk around the heavy lift crane at the ship's rail, the starboard side amidships. The view would be great; and from other parts of the ship where people were on watch, no one could see them... him, he reminded himself; she would remain invisible.

In his excitement to show her new things, he had overlooked the weather entirely. In the crypto shack, one hardly noticed the ship's movement and the weather outside, and generally, he functioned in whatever weather prevailed. It was part of who he was. He pulled the little plug, and out she came with a big smile and full of surprise at the changed surroundings.

The breeze was moist off the sea, and salty, and it caught her long hair, streaming it out behind her as she looked around. More than a little anxious, everything around her being new and dark and formidable, and below them the dark ocean, in a girl's unconscious reaction she reached out one hand to him for safety. He took it, with perhaps no more forethought than she. The contact was like an electric shock to her, but he held her hand as she looked at him, trembling. Presently, as her confidence returned, she slowly reached behind her with her other hand... and, when she let go of it, the wind whipped the light silk out of her fingers and away.

They had not touched each other before, and now he held her hand with determination.

"You are so very beautiful, Babe." 

Not very profound, but it was full of deep sentiment, and then he was still coming to grips with the magic this cute genie worked on him. Words typically flowed easily for him; she stopped him dead in his tracks with her strikingly beautiful body and those expressive blue eyes of hers. Her hand in his, however, was a tangible connection with solid substance that neither could ignore. It had been, of course, of interest to him whether she was solid or just an apparition. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, but no suitable situation had arisen.

"Oh, it's cold out here, My Master," she declared softly.

Now one had.

He was very much a gentleman, and, to such an entreaty he responded with skill. First, a secure place for the jug. Low on the side of the crane housing was a bracket for tools, which served perfectly. Then he slipped out of his foul weather jacket with its light fleece lining and draped it about her shoulders – his jacket would, he thought to himself, never be the same again – drawing it across her in front to close out the breeze.

His careful and gentle effort on her behalf surprised and delighted her. Never had a man... or any genie for that matter... shown any such concern for her welfare. Her role in the world was to serve; someone else serving her was a thrill, which, since she thought of it as impossible, she had never even anticipated.

She felt him put his arm around her shoulder, then pull her close to him, and her head and heart were in a whirl of wonderful sensation. He held her in front of him, with her back snuggled against him, and spoke to her of the ocean and the sights they could see in the moonlight. It was a clear night in mid-Atlantic, and the countless millions of stars were bright above.

She was just a fourth rate novice genie, with only basic training and essentially no experience. Her entire being tingled, however, when he held her close and nuzzled her and kissed her in that tender, sensitive place under her ear. She had had no idea such a place even existed, nor that a man's kiss might with such stunning power shatter her genie's world. Amid all else assaulting her very being, he asked – her Master asked her – if he could hold her... and, thrilled by his attention, she could only answer with a throaty little whimper. She was cozy and warm in his jacket and wrapped in his arms, but inside his jacket his big hand, holding her one breast and caressing her tenderly, rocked her to her very core. Her consciousness was reeling with the emotional input.

Training, admonitions against what human men might want and do, all precautions slipped away as the wind had snatched the silk from her fingers. The joy of this man treating her so nicely, speaking with her with respect, teaching her of new things... things that humans did... opened doors to her being of which she had virtually no comprehension at all. His attention and gentle caresses delighted her. He explained to her about the sea and his ship... it was like no ship she had ever seen, and she noticed it seemed to have no sail, at least she could not see one in the darkness... and he used several words very strange to her, then kissed her again under her ear, and she melted in his arms. His fingers stroked her soft breast, one and then the other, and lit a fire inside her that she did not understand, even as it washed her entire being in pleasure. His hands holding her breasts were as if she had waited all her existence for that sensation. It was wonderful! Nothing in her novice training had mentioned anything remotely like this.

She had also not ever been out of her jug for so long, and after enjoying his holding and fondling her and kissing her for what seemed like forever to her, she became aware also that her strength was ebbing quickly, and let her head drop back onto his chest again. He still held her, but his hands were still now, though his fingertips playing with her nipples made her giddy. This is what the trainer had meant, wasn't it? Emotional involvement with a human would mean that her strength out of her jug would be more quickly exhausted. Was that what was happening now? Is this emotional involvement? Was that what she was experiencing now? With a man like her master, she mused to herself, that could not be so terrible.

"My Master," she turned her face to him, still warm and cozy in his embrace, knowing she had to tell him, "thank you for holding me and keeping me warm, but when I am out of my jug for a long time my strength is exhausted. I must go back." She spoke so softly he could just barely hear her over the wind. 

"I'm sorry to keep you so long. Will you be all right, Babe?"

"Yes, I'm sure." She smiled at her other name; it felt special to her. "Will you call for me again soon, My Master?"

"Yes, of course." Then he remembered he had to command her to go back. "Back you go now, Babe, sleep tight!"

She smiled sweetly at him in the darkness, there was the familiar whoosh, and he was holding his empty jacket in his arms. 

Awestruck by his experience with her, he stood for a long time thinking about what he had learned about her.

First, the fun stuff. While the striking beauty of her body was matchless, her personality would have turned him away had she not been so delightfully feminine and charming. Together, she was an overwhelming attraction to him. Her blue eyes danced and played with his, and her delicate shyness and her smile was enough to send his heart into spasms. For all that, there was no ignoring that her body was perfect, and holding her breasts – oh, that was a delight! – was worth a thousand sunrises; her breasts were firm, and yet soft; absolutely superb! With those breasts in his hands, rolling those cute little nipples between his fingers, feeling her whimper and melt in his arms at his caressing her, was enough to... well, to overshadow most anything! 

When she had reached out for him, he was remembering with pleasure, so much like an anxious and trusting young girl, the simple beauty of the honest gesture thrilled his heart. When he had ordered her right at first to take off the blue silk across her breasts, he had obviously startled her. Now, however, after some maybe a dozen emergings from her little jug, she obviously relished doing so for him, and with a bit of a saucy flair all her own. His cute little genie was a piece of work, that was for sure.

It was interesting, too, that her body seemed to be essentially that of a girl. Whatever differences might be, if any, were not yet evident at all. Well, of course, normal girls did not whoosh in and out of little jugs, and usually would feel shy about being bare breasted with a man... well, OK, so she was a genie, not a girl. Right. Could she somehow become a girl? Was such a transition possible? If so, how might one make that happen?

Questions and more questions. No answers.

Once back in Norfolk and off the ship, he started making the changes that he had planned out to make the move to Monterey. He would trade in his sports car for a new GMC Suburban, one with a big bench seat and plenty of room in back, the better to enjoy her being with him. The ship's truck and driver delivered him and his gear to the Bachelor Officer Quarters at the Amphibious Base as a temporary first stop. With a telephone there, he could move on with his plans.

First, however, now that he was off the ship and had the privacy of his own room, he set her jug on the table and pulled out the stopper.

Whoosh!

And there she was, just like before, beautiful and feminine and his, and with a sweet smile, she let the blue silk dangle for a moment before letting drop from her fingers to the floor. He had to be dreaming! This was too fantastic!

"Does My Master have a wish, or a command for his genie?"

"Oh, yes!" he thought to himself. She was a perfect delight. Though very sweet and feminine, even with her emerging sauciness, there was no inking of any attempt to cajole or manipulate. She was not devious and had never shown him any contrariness or upset in any way. "Yes, Brianna. My command is that you be my companion, and talk with me. I don't want you to be," he had thought about this in detail, and this was decision time, "my slave or my servant, I want you to be my friend and have fun with me, go places with me, see new things and explore the world with me." Those were pretty general ideas, he realized, and maybe she would not understand. "I want you to be my girl, Brianna; my sweetheart." 

That, friend, was a big step forward for him. He was letting go of the memory of the wonderful year with his wife before her death, no small achievement for a man who had been so devastated by her loss. With such an inspiring genie, he was finding he could open his heart to her and move on. 

He was falling... falling hard, for a genie!

Her almost blank expression told him that some of that had gone right over her head. "Thank you, My Master; I would like to be your friend." She sensed that his words had been more specific than she could grasp, but friendliness could not be a bad thing. The other part seemed a big challenge, since she had no information on how to do it. "What would it mean," she asked him softly, "to become a girl?"

With that innocent, simple probe, she opened doors to their future, and released an avalanche of ideas for the both of them.

Now with virtually no demands on his time he did not place there himself, he decided to go right to the heart of the matter. "Can you show me your complete form as a genie? Do genies have legs and feet like me?"

She giggled at his question, which she interpreted as a command, and presently she stood before him on the floor with her hands clasped at her waist and the most perfectly formed lower body and feet. She was spectacularly beautiful and perceiving that simple fact robbed him of his ability to speak.

She dropped her eyes, hoping he would be pleased with her. In her pleasure at being with him she had, without really thinking about the process, sought so hard to please him that in some way not fully understood, her personality and intellect, and, most readily evident in this moment, her physical form, responded to his desires and adjusted in the smallest detail to approach, if in fact they did not reflect exactly, this human man's own ideal girl... a remarkable process, since he had not voiced to her any specifications or requirements. This was not a conscious effort on her part; it is a talent and capacity genies draw on naturally when motivated by a kind and appreciative master. One might consider it a built-in reward for a man not taking advantage of a vulnerable and submissive girl... er, genie. So, it is hardly any wonder that his very being was jolted by his genie in her desire to please him. She did please him, more fully than either of them could grasp at this early stage, but all his emotions were reeling in near overload.

"You are beautiful, Babe. I find you the most beautiful genie in the world; you are the most beautiful girl in the world." With her standing so demurely before him, nearly nude, he rather shamelessly scanned her body once again. Her shoulders and pretty breasts were as magnificent as before, her hips just full enough to be curvy and around her the gold chain and the filmy material of what appeared to be some billowy pantaloon, her legs shapely and stunning, her feet small and perfectly formed, and he noticed once again the wispy vapor streaming off her feet. Maybe that's not exactly correct, but thin clouds of something streamed out behind her to her jug.

Not to be overlooked, between her legs, covered by a thin layer of the filmy material, was the cutest little mons Veneris and vulva he ever could imagine. Her body would bear with some closer attention when he better understood what all was involved. For now, however, he wanted to know her better before he took their pleasure to another level. None of the fellows he knew had ever had a genie for their own, so there was a lot of new ground to be covered here.

For her, even so, things seemed a great deal simpler. She was trying hard to give him pleasure. Her entire being sought to serve him. She had neither learning nor experience to equip her to seduce a man, nor even to understand the danger involved in presenting herself, in all her glory, to a man she hardly knew. Yet, he had shown her kindness, and on that basis – perhaps on that basis alone – she trusted that he would be kind and gentle with her. For him now – immobilized by her beauty – to do nothing with her seemed at first an indication to her that she may have misread him, and that made her shy.

Absolutely certain that there could be no conversation with her standing there before him like that, he reached for her one hand and lead her to the bed, yanked down the covers, and pulled her in until she was fully in bed. Then he pulled the covers over her, walked around to the other side, and stretched out himself alongside her, pulled her to him, her head on his outstretched arm, and the blankets between them.

She had no idea what to do or think, and just followed her master, waiting for him to command her. He had said he wanted her to be a girl, his girl... but how to do that, or exactly what he meant, was a complete mystery to her. The human girls and women she had seen – several centuries before, though she had no sense of time or its passage, and next to nothing for knowledge of the world – had lived in deplorable conditions, hunger, fear, cold their constant fare, and treated by demanding and crude men like chattel and possessions rather than the people they were. She didn't like that, and thus didn't understand what he meant, since the two ideas seemed to clash. She was confused.

"Come and snuggle up close to me, Babe. We have to talk."

That she could manage, and with pleasure. While his thoughts were reaching a gel point, she felt his hand stroking her back softly, and setting off sparks throughout her entire being. Nobody had ever touched her back like that. He was a very nice man to have for a master.

Whatever else, however, it was time for a kiss. He suspected she knew nothing about kissing, and thought that was something he could handle just fine. He could focus better without the extraordinary visual stimulant of her near nudity, and he could keep things under control more easily if she were, for the moment not nude... well, covered. The bedcovers were a simple assist.

She was a willing student, and he taught her that the sensitive lips and tongue were sources of pleasure between a man and a girl... he thought of her more and more as a girl. She was responsive and even playful, but not just because a genie's task was to serve and please, but because from very early he had touched her heart and quieted her fears. With now a little experience with this man as her master, what fear of human men had troubled her before was fast... had already melted away.




The Genie Who Wanted to Be a Girl



An hour making out on the bed pretty well steamed up the windows, and seeking to control things to his own requirements where there was not the least reluctance on the party of his companion, he rolled over on his back to break the heat of the moment.

She was gasping and aroused and thrilled at the attention... kisses probing and hot and throbbing and... and she was lost almost from the first moment. She was unsure why he had stopped. Had she done something to upset him? Was it because she was a genie and he wanted her to be a girl? Was that it?

"Brianna," he began tentatively, and she felt like he was trying to explain something, "let's let things cool down here a little. You're a cute little number, and I don't want to hurt you." With that comment, he rolled away from her to get up off the bed. Was that all, she wondered? For the first time in her existence she had to deal with sexual frustration, and without any understanding at all. Of course, the experience is not uncommon for young girls, but Brianna didn't know this either. She had no idea where he had been taking her, but she wanted to go with him, no matter what.

And he wanted to take her... and there is definitely a double meaning there, and he judged accurately that she would probably go wherever he took her, and in whichever way he took her. He had to be sure, however, that he was taking care of her. It nagged him that he didn't understand about genies.

He carried her in her jug over to the parking lot behind the BOQ to retrieve his car. Once the tarp was off and stowed and the top down, and the engine turning over smoothly – after a long absence that's always a concern – he pulled the stopper, and she whooshed into the seat beside him in all her glorious nudity, surprised at the strange surroundings and concerned about the 'angry roar,' as she called it. She knew nothing about engines, and the noise frightened her, but she was learning to key her reactions of her master's, and were he not alarmed there was no need for her to be. That included her concern as to whether anyone could see her, since her master had said no one was ever to see her nude, that such a gift was for him alone, and he would not share.

"No one can see you, Brianna, but I want you to feel modest and safe... can you get one of my dress shirts for me?"

They had talked about clothes in the Q, and she knew his dress shirts in the closet. She hardly wiggled her wrist and one of his dress shirts was in her hand. To her utter amazement, he helped her put it on... slipping her arms into the sleeves, rolling them up to above her elbows, and then, as she sat before him in the little car, he took the shirttails and rolled them up and tied them beneath her breasts, stroking her playfully in the process and making her blood hot again. Mostly, however, it was the simple task of dressing her and caring for her... these were pleasurable acts done to keep her safe, and they strummed her heartstrings. Well, maybe it was his continually fondling her breasts. She loved his hands on her, and they strummed her heartstrings as well.

Before she knew what was happening they were off like a shot... a shot to her. In actuality, without the aid of a single horse, her master steered the car, to her utter amazement, out of the parking lot and down roads and around trees and everywhere... faster that she had ever moved in her life, and while she felt terrified at first, he obviously was not afraid in the least, and soon they were laughing together. Her long hair streamed out behind them in the breeze... it made her feel exhilarated and free... he thought it was the most wonderful thing to have such a beautiful girl with him. Her hair flying and her bright smile and dancing eyes were a joy to him of the first magnitude.

Not twenty minutes later, at an ice cream stand, while they were standing in line, some goon in a pick up truck drove right into their car, pushing it up against a concrete retaining wall and collapsing the sports car's body like a paper sack.

His first thought was that his day was ruined, and she picked up immediately on his upset. He tried to speak to the driver, but that person just nodded his head and said nothing. She had not the slightest idea what to do... until her master said something about a new car. That she knew something about. What kind of new car, she queried innocently, what color, what other details to describe his idea? He rattled off technical specs that would have told a salesman just what he wanted, but the numbers and strange words were just gibberish to her, but such was the work-a-day functioning of genies. When she thought he was finished, she flicked her wrist and a sparkling knew GMC Suburban appeared in the next parking space, tail end to the wall, fully licensed and road tested, ready to drive away. Just as they could not see her, the people standing around did not see the Suburban either.

Her master, when he recovered from his surprise, turned to her grinning from ear to ear. Clearly, he was pleased with what she had done, and that made her day. This car was bigger than the other was, even huge, she thought, but he opened the door, encouraged her to get in, and shortly they were driving away down the road. Her master was very pleased, she could tell. She liked him, and when he smiled she felt little tingles inside. It was fun to do things that made him happy.

If he was, then so was she.

They did miss the ice cream, however.

What kind of nourishment sustained a genie? Did they eat something? He pushed the already half filled cart down the aisle in the commissary, picking up more things for the trip west, and thought again of his cute little genie in his pocket. Wonderful! He knew how to take care of a girl, but how do you take care of a genie. There was no precedent.

Back at the car – his new Suburban, and it was full of gas, too – they loaded... well, he loaded in the side door and she watched over the seat back... what he had purchased. His genie, after making the new Suburban appear in place of his wrecked car, was driven by curiosity to watch everything happening around her as she cowered in the front seat, still dressed only his white shirt and her filmy pantaloons. Her master had made her feel so special by dressing her in his shirt, she wanted to be with him and know that he liked her. She leaned over the seatback to look in the bags, exuberant and curious what he had bought, and suddenly felt his hands on her, fondling her sensitive breasts, opening her shirt and freeing her dangling breasts and feeling her up with both hands, holding, hefting, and playing with her, and pulling lightly on her sensitive nipples, kissing her neck and sending little tingles through her entire being. She loved it when he did that, it made her feel so special and thrilled to be with him.

She trusted her Master not to let others see her, but she was excited to see all the interesting things everywhere. There were more cars everywhere, all different colors, and buildings and everywhere things amazing and new to her... and people! Lot's of people, men and women and children, in dress that was strange to her, similar to her master's, and women in colorful and nice garments, walking every which way, and they seemed to be neither fearful nor anxious in any way. In a crashing realization, it dawned on her that her entire understanding of reality was way too narrow and likely badly skewed in some manner that she could not imagine. All that training as a novice genie was a farce. Her master had driven that big ship without a sail, he had a "car" – she still was not certain what that was, even if she had conjured a new one for him – and the new one made him happy, and he had driven it, without horses or anything, on a smooth road, with many other cars, not a horse in sight, and faster... oh, my, faster that she had ever imagined!

Now he had purchased food for their journey. She had never tasted food, and was unsure what to expect. He closed the door and climbed in where he sat when he drove, and pulled her close beside him. He had a strange fruit in his had, a kind that she had never seen before, and he did something very special. Sitting right next to her, he looked at her and took a bite of it, and then with a smile offered her a bite. 

She had made herself content with little pleasures; this was overwhelming. He was not just tossing her crumbs from his table; he was sharing his food with her. She wasn't sure what it would taste like, but it looked wonderful, white, and juicy where he had bitten into the light greenish yellow fruit.

"It's delicious, Babe. Take a bite, you'll love it. It's a 'pear.'"

The word was new, but she did, and it was juicy and dripping, and she did... she loved the softness and the light sweetness. He was right, it was delicious. Meanwhile, carried away by the experience, the pear juice ran down her chin unnoticed, and down her neck onto her one bare... beautiful bare breast.

She didn't know what to do, but he gently wiped the juice away with his fingertip. Once again, his tenderness and care for her left her grasp of things in a whirl. There was no precedent in her existence for such emotions.

His smile helped her relax, they finished the pear together, laughing with each other, and, this time rather than a fingertip, he took her breast in his hand gently and held her, and licked the juice from her soft skin. The sensation he created for her almost made her collapse with joy on the spot.

She watched as he started what he had called the 'engine' – something up in front of them that made a lot of noise – and they went back to his room. On the way, she found her voice to ask about the girls she had seen. There had been several in the parking lot, laughing, running, walking, having fun, and not afraid at all, dressed in pretty things, and she wondered if that was what he meant. Did he want her to be that kind of girl, or did she understand him wrong? 

With her innocent query, he realized that she had way too little experience to grasp what he had said to her. As he thought about what he could do about that, he noticed, too, that her head was sagging onto his shoulder again. While he liked that very much, it was also a sign that she was drained. She liked being with him so very much that exhaustion was often upon her before she let herself be aware of that. He packed her off to her little jug for a rest, deciding that he would call her forth later that evening and make it a special event for her. His creative nature was already humming with ideas to let her know how he felt about her.

He stopped at nice bookstore with magazines that he had patronized in months past. He needed something for a visual image of what he hoped to find in her. Four or five of the nicer women's latest issues would probably suffice, he hoped, but searching through them was not all that productive. He didn't want glitz and glamour, nor a sexy, come hither pose and a painted face. He had a particular image in mind but seemed not to be able to find it.

Finally, a drawing of a young woman as a lead-in to a story seemed to capture his idea. There were another two on following pages, and the artist had managed to portray something special. The girl's deep blue gown reached to her ankles and streamed out behind her as she moved. The puffy little sleeves held her form fitted bodice in place, swooping very low in front showing the upper swell of her full breasts, while ribbon-like laces across her bare back held the gown together. Her shoes were just evident in one drawing; medium heels on dark blue pumps with a ribbon lacing around her ankle. Perfect! Since his genie could make that light blue silk appear and disappear at will, he was guessing that such a gown and shoes presented little problem.

But that was not enough. There needed to be something from him... not just stuff she conjured up. 

What? 

A hair brush! Her long hair flowed like silk about her – he remembered the night it streamed out behind her so prettily in the wind, and that had been the motivation for taking her riding in his roadster... to see her hair flowing again in the breeze. What girl, he imagined to himself, would not appreciate a nice hairbrush? The big chain drugstore across the parking lot would have a selection, and he headed over, carrying her in his jacket pocket. At the entry way the display halted all forward motion. 

Flowers! 

There were a number of bouquets of bright spring flowers, at a price not cheap... they were freshly picked that very morning, but the price was nominal for such. He found her a nice hairbrush, too, one with a walnut handle and medium bristles. If that one didn't work to her liking, he'd get her another one, and paid for it and the one bouquet flowers he thought best.

Where could he take her? He could select any of four or five of his favorite restaurants in the area, but eating needed to be more low key, since she had just started with the pear that very day. He wasn't sure how that would work, after all. And, visual would be very important, and he wanted her to feel how much she pleased him. The officers club at the naval air station looked out over Chesapeake Bay and they had a little dance floor and usually live music. They could order something light and then just see how things went. Stay flexible, respond to her needs, and make it a special evening for her. He called for a reservation.

Thinking it would take her no time at all to be ready, after all she conjured up the gown in the flick of her wrist, he decided to prepare his tropical white uniform, with shoulder boards and ribbons, ready to go, shower and shave, and only then, when he was ready and in his underwear, would he call for her. She would appear as before, he was thinking and planning, full length, and, save for her gossamer pantaloons, in all her glorious nudity. The hairbrush should be first, he thought, a little token. Then the pictures of the gown, and he tore the pages from the magazine to maintain the focus. While she worked with her shoes and gown it would need just a moment to get into his uniform. Maybe he should be in his uniform already. Yes, that would be better, and allow him to pay closer attention to her.

The flowers would come last, and he hoped she would be thrilled.

All right. Dressed now, and all in readiness. Let's check things one more time... fine. Get her!

Whoosh!

Her eyes were big and bright and she was surprised at his appearance in his white uniform. "Oh, My Master, you are a beautiful man!" Her words just gushed out before she could halt them, but she was yet too innocent to be chagrined. 

He had the bouquet in a vase behind him on the table and had not thought she would notice, but she did. Pretty things in her life had been few and far between, and something as gloriously beautiful as the bouquet could hardly avoid being seen. Her pantaloons clung to her legs as she stepped quickly across the room to the flowers with a little cry of delight. He noticed, and was pleased at her openness and happiness. In her surprise and excitement, she had forgotten the blue silk.

He followed her to the flowers, standing behind his nearly nude genie as she touched and sniffed, oblivious to all else in her delight, and noticed the little knot in the light blue silk at her back. Her neck and shoulders were perfectly formed and inviting and she had the cutest, perfectly formed bottom. Her long hair cascading down behind her... and he noticed for the first time a few tangles and snarls. Perhaps, he thought, he had selected well. He let his hands settle gently on her hips and leaned forward to kiss her lightly on her pretty neck.

"Oh, My Master..." she turned to him quickly, "forgive me! I am so excited to be with you, I forgot." She loosed the knot and drew the silk from across her thrusting breasts in a most provocative way, looking innocently to him for his approval.

It surprised her again when he took her in his arms and kissed her. He had not planned that, but there are some inspired activities that need little forethought to execute with verve and passion.

When he let her up for air, she was gasping, and there was a bright twinkle in her eyes just for him. Nothing in her training prepared her for this experience with her master. Her big blue eyes were full of open adoration as she looked at the strange but impressive clothes he was wearing. She asked what his clothes meant; touching with a respectful little finger the two rows of colorful campaign ribbons on his chest, and then realizing her touch may be offensive and pulled back, anxious that he might be mad.

Her little girl antics, and open pleasure in his company, pleased him more than his own vivid expectations had allowed might be possible. He held her in his arms and let her know she had done nothing amiss. Again, her finger touched the bright ribbons, and the delight in her eyes was sunshine in his heart. He knew that it was little enough that he had done to garner four ribbons at this early point in his career, but she found his accomplishments marvelous beyond imagining, and the bright gold device above them, that attested to his designation as a surface warfare officer, evoked a special smile from her. Then she wanted to know about 'the things on his shoulders.' His lieutenant's shoulder boards, black with a gold button, gold star, and two bands of gold lace were, he told her as casually as he could manage, the symbols of his rank in the navy. Of rank, she had a clear concept, but no one in her experience had rank anything as bright and shiny as her master. Of navy, she comprehended only that it had to do with the sea, and his big grey ship without a sail. Her master, nevertheless, though her understanding was yet elementary, was the most magnificent man she had ever imagined, and he was kind to her. For genies, emotions were forbidden territory, but his kindness had drawn her willingly across that dangerous frontier into the unknown... he had led her well into the to her unknown depths of his heart.

He told her he had another gift. She recognized it immediately, though she had never seen one so nicely made. Genies used them when tending to princesses and ladies of the court. Genies did not get to have their own hairbrushes for their own use, and she was stunned and mute at his generosity. 

Thinking she did not understand, he had her stretch out on the bed and started to brush out her silky hair. He rolled her head to get behind her ear on one side, stroking slowly, gently... lovingly. Her own previous experience was shockingly at odds. In her training they had on two occasions had a human woman, a slave of some Pasha, come to allow them to experience brushing a human woman's hair. She recalled that feeling, how she was the giver of pleasure and would never be the receiver. She thought about that now, how without any requirement to do so, her master willingly gave her pleasure. Her emotions were topsy turvy.

His carefully planned evening was now topsy turvy as well. He saw it more as simply adjusting to her and enjoying her company. The flowers had thrilled her, her attention had thrilled him, and the hairbrush worked a magic on her he did not expect. No matter; as long as she was pleased, all was going splendidly.

He told her about his plan, to take her out to dinner that they might have some fun together, and she could see what ladies were like in the world. She comprehended better what he meant when he showed her the drawings. She thought the gown stunning beyond her imagination, even if the style was new to her. 

Dressing so presented her with a challenge, nonetheless. The gold chain about her waist included a gold token connecting the ends of the chain. A genie dare not break the token and remove the chain, the penalty was too severe, though she knew not exactly what that might be. She had shed the filmy material of her pantaloons, innocently leaving her cute little vulva naked as well, and open to his eyes. 




The Genie Who Wanted to Be a Girl



She felt the conflict within her. Her chain meant to her that she was a genie... more precisely, that she was not a girl. Were she to break the token, it would mean her end; were her master to break it, however, her thoughts trailed off, uncertain, into the unknown. Approaching him timidly, she asked to keep her chain about her waist, please, since all genies had to wear one all the time. 

Raising her eyes to him for his response, she felt him draw her to him, and then his warm hand taking her sensitive little mons into his palm, feeling immediately the thrill of his taking possession of her, claiming her with his masculine hold of her, and unable to keep from gasping at the thrill and holding onto him. He ignited her passions as had no one ever before, passions of which she had no inkling whatever, and his hand felt wonderful there, holding her firmly. Her head was whirling and she felt dizzy, feeling his strong hand lifting her, pressing between her legs and into her, thrilling her... it was a sensation new and unexpected, but she was delighted at her master's attention.

"You are a beautiful young lady, Babe. I'm glad you're mine. I like having a cute and loveable genie for a companion. Maybe I can get you to be my girl!" Then he kissed her again.

"Let's get ready, Babe." It needed some determination, actually quite a bit of determination, to let one activity go and get on with the other, and her face told him she had wanted yet more of his attention. "It's time for dinner."

Her master had said it again... that he would like her to be a girl; his girl. How did a genie manage such a task? She would do it in an instant, if she only knew.

The shoes felt funny on her feet, and walking was strange at first, but the gown, in a dark blue silk, felt utterly luxurious. He helped her tighten the ribbons behind and noticed how her creation draped the material over her pert breasts, leaving her free and thrusting. She enjoyed the soft swish of the material around her legs as she turned to him, and, as her master looked at her, she felt like a princess.

Which was precisely his intent, and he sensed, judging from her sparkling blues eyes, that he had succeeded.

Her heart still in a whirl, she took his arm and he led her into the most amazing evening in her experience. He let her know that he wanted other men to see her this evening, other men and other ladies, see that she was his lady and companion. He told her that she was the most beautiful lady in the world to him, and the two different words left a question in her mind. As they road to dinner she had to ask. What was the difference between a girl and a lady?

He thought about that, about his own interpretation of the words. His description was not that clear to her, and she thought it seemed not that clear to him. She concluded that, from what her master said, they were almost the same. Was a lady more than a girl? He had already called her his lady this evening, and now more than once. If he wanted her to be a lady, whatever that was, why had he not said so?

"A lady is always a girl," he added, having thought this through a little. "Not all girls can be ladies, though. They have to want to be their very best, to be generous and kind, quick to serve others, creative, understanding, loving, cheerful....

"But she is still a girl; beautiful, fun, passionate, responsive, playful, adventurous. Does that help any?"

Well, she thought to herself, that his explanation helped... some. She could remember all those big words, but she didn't yet know for sure exactly what they meant. It was clear that she could not be a lady without being a girl. Lady was like a higher rank than girl, but she was still a girl in any case. Tonight, she recalled, she would get to see ladies. Her excitement knew no bounds, even if she did not know how to give her master what he wanted.

Had he been less persuasive as a leader she perhaps would have felt less secure. He did lead her though, and she felt his leadership as were it his command to her, and she followed him, trusting him to care for her, even as some things terrified her. Virtually everything in the world was new and strange. He called it the officers club, though until they got there that name meant nothing. It was not as glorious as the palace where she had served once, but much warmer and more inviting. There were candles everywhere, and people... men and women... together... eating dinner, and there was soft music, and people 'dancing' in a place in front of everybody.

At their table she found a bright red rose bud on her plate. Why? What was happening to her? She sensed the flower was from him, her master, but could not yet grasp his message. Did a man give flowers to a girl or a lady to make her happy? They did make her happy, of course, but why did he do that? She felt strange tingling in her... in her heart, and a warm moisture where he had held her earlier. He had said he loved her... what did that word mean, really?

There were so many interesting things to see. At the next table over was a woman, a little older, she thought, with a man in a blue uniform – not white like her master's – who took her hand and led her to the place where people 'danced.' Others joined them, seeming to enjoy the music and, she thought, those ladies were not afraid of the men. They were dressed very prettily, and smiled, and spoke easily to the men they were with, and did not act like slaves at all. Something was drastically wrong with her training. It had not been realistic at all. She was not yet entirely sure what she could do about that, but her master had told her he wanted her to be 'his girl,' and she had not yet figured out how to do that. Now he was showing her what other ladies were like, and she was enthralled with the cheerful and pleasant atmosphere, and the friendliness of the people around her, and even the food. 

The food was an experience all its own. Firstly, there were ice cubes in her water glass, her very own water glass. She had heard of ice, but never seen it, and only the Great Pasha ever had ice, and at great expense. Now she had her own ice, in her very own glass. Unthinkable extravagance for a fourth rate genie, and a grand gesture by her master!

On her plate were a magnificent assortment of things all new to her, perhaps the kinds of things served to the Great Pasha, but she had never seen such, let alone tasted something so exotic. He said the 'fish' was 'Swordfish' and it tasted yummy beyond belief. She ate a little of the salad, with a tangy dressing, and sampled the vegetables and the rice... the rice, at least, she recognized, but rice at school never tasted like this rice! Never!

Until the very moment he asked her, extending his hand to her as he rose, she had not imagined that she would go out there to 'dance' like those other ladies. She had not the slightest idea how they did that. Like before, she just followed her master, trusting him, and for a moment they stood listening to the music. He held her close, and she felt his rhythmic movements, and then it just seemed to come to her and she followed him, one step at a time, feeling the music and enjoying the fun of being with him in this new adventure.

They met two other couples at the club after dinner. They were friends of her master, in uniforms just like his, and they too had ladies with them. Her master introduced her as his lady, Brianna, and, like the other two, she nodded and shook hands, and hoped she would not do or say something stupid. The one lady wore a huge gem around her neck and commented on the attractive little jug in her master's hand. He made some response, and the lady was happy. The other lady seemed to have a lot of paint on her face, and she didn't understand why. After a few moments, they all said good bye and her master lead her away.

As much as she had enjoyed the dinner and dancing with her master, the excitement and stimulation had worn her out. Half way to the car she began to falter, her legs weakening beneath her. Her master, she noticed with pleasure, was very alert to her needs, but it surprised her when he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the car. Her master was carrying her... in his arms... what she had never imagined. 

"Can I," she begged softly in her tiny voice, knowing she had to go back, "keep my dress and shoes, My Master? And my hairbrush?"

Her feminine request was sweetness to him like warm honey in the comb. "Of course, My Darling Girl, they are yours to keep forever." The matter was yet beyond his perception, but when in one's entire life there are no gifts, and no expectation of any, the smallest bestowal becomes an incalculable treasure. 

She knew, however, that she could take nothing with her. "Will you keep them for me until you call for me again?" 

"Such a delicate entreaty from a most beautiful lady is my honor to fulfill, and with great pleasure. They shall await your return, My Darling."

She smiled for him, hearing and noticing his words clearly, and rested her head on his shoulder, but she was fading fast now as he set her on the seat, and she leaned against him, holding on to his arm and not wanting to leave him. "Thank you, My Master, for a fun time, and for your gifts."

He knew she was hanging on, but it was time. He would gladly have kept with him, but knew it had to be and that she would not go unless he commanded. "Good night, Lady of my life. Sleep tight. Back you go now!"

Whoosh.

He put the stopper back in place and held her in his hands, full of wonder and amazement. Her blue silk gown lay empty and limp on the seat, her shoes, ankle ribbons untied and one tipped on its side, on the carpet below. Her sudden absence after such a delightful time together, left him... left his heart bereft and lonely as he stood there looking at her dress on the seat.

We were off, he thought to himself. "We?" How quickly one's thinking begins to adjust to exciting developments. She was a delightful girl... well, a girl genie. He didn't quite understand what to do with her, but having her close as a companion was a thrill all its own.

Like everything else in life, all things have to be balanced. He had thirty days leave enroute, and that plus travel time meant he didn't have to report in to school for another 36 days at least. He wanted time to find an apartment before starting his studies, say, two weeks, and he already had some leads and contacts, but his conclusion was that there was no great rush to get across the country. He figured he'd push hard to get to Omaha. Very nice visiting officer quarters for a song there at Offutt AFB, ditto for Francis E. Warren at Cheyenne, then Hill field in Ogden, and NAS Fallon near Reno.

How to handle affairs with Brianna was a big consideration. Her endurance was limited to a few hours at the most, and he was studying each event with her to determine what made it longer or shorter. He also decided that he was going to teach her to be his... well, what was the right name for her... his "playmate." Her nudity with him was a tremendous draw and wanted to enjoy her more than he had thus far. He wanted to play with her... play with her body.

No time to get started like the present. Halfway down the Bluegrass Parkway he had his plan laid out in his mind: breasts now, pussy and orgasm in Omaha. There was no particular reason for matching her progress with him to their movement across the country, just a convenient measurement.

He felt a little crazy getting this plan in motion. All he had to do was tell her, command her, and she would do it. But that wasn't just what he wanted. He wanted to have be receptive and desire his attention and love making as much as he wanted her. You can't just tell her to like you playing with her breasts and expect her to enjoy it. Was this a problem, though? Thinking back, when he had fondled her in the commissary parking lot, she was clearly surprised, but seemed to enjoy his attention. Making out on the bed... submissive, yielding, responsive... no reluctance... just innocent and youthful wonder at the excitement. And then, when she had kissed him back once, and then looked at him with those big blue eyes, twinkling and bright, waiting to see if what she had done was all right... how should interpret that other than an invitation to continue?

Fine. That's a wrap. Continue he would.

Whoosh! "Hello, My Master," she said cheerfully, looking at him with adoring eyes as she wiggled a little on the seat, "do you..." she let her voice trail off casually as the blue silk fell away and only continued when he turned his eyes from the road again to look at her, "have a wish for me?" 

Did he ever!

Hello, Brianna, my sweet, desirable young lady, yes, I do have a wish for you." She was waiting patiently, excited to have a way to please him. "My wish if for you... for you to give yourself to me to love and to fondle and play with, and make you happy. I want you to know that to me you have the most perfect body... the most beautiful breasts, to touch and caress and fondle.... Do you understand me?"

She was quiet and the look in her eyes was serious, even if yet a hint of playfulness remained. "My Master, I am your genie, to command as you wish. I belong to you, and only to you... and each time you have touched me..." he voice began to tremble a little and he could hear her trying to hold on to her composure, "when you held me in your hands on the ship that first time, and when kissed me on the bed, and... and held me in your hand before you dressed me...and... you teach me," there were velvet-soft little tears down her rosy cheeks, "about wonderful things... I'm yours and want to be forever, My Master." She remained sitting there before him, unsure what she should do or say further, but she loved being with him and hoped he would teach her more exciting things, and hold her and, well, everything that he had said, even though she didn't understand it all.

As she had been speaking he had slowed for the off ramp and pulled up into a little dirt side road between some trees and stopped. "My dearest Brianna...," he thought her beautiful beyond imagining, and pulled her into his arms to cuddle her tenderly and sooth her feelings. She seemed to relish his embrace and cuddled closer, and her trembling ceased after a while.

"I want to... Genies don't get to wish anything ever, but I want very much, My Master, to be your girl." There was a desperate, hopeful, yearning plea in those words. "I can't figure out yet how to become a girl for you."

"My dearest Brianna...you are a genie, my genie, and a very skilful genie... you are a friend, a companion, a sweetheart... and someday you will be a girl and... my girl, and my lady." The reassurance of her place with him was like turning on the lights in her world, and she smiled shyly in his arms. "And this is what my girl," he started a tender stroke with a fingertip to whisk a little tear away from her cheek, and kissed her lightly, "likes me to do with her." His fingertip traced her chin, and neck, and the curve of her shoulder, and finally - as he had not done before with her – cruised up the swell of her one breast slowly, gently, swooping down below and lifting her a little, and causing her to gasp and moan softly, and finally circling her tiny nipple.

She was so anxious to be his that normal restraints were long since set aside, even had there been any. She cried out in anticipation and desire, not knowing really what she wanted, but that... that he should do it, whatever he would. He leaned over to her breast and kissed her, seeing the pleasure and surprise wash over her as she watched him. With his tongue, he played with her nipple, licking, tweaking, stirring her insides into a boiling cauldron of tension and delight and confusion, and, not hurrying but enjoying the process and wanting her to enjoy it with him, continued to stoke the fires higher with his licks and kisses. This was all new to her, outside of teachings, training, and experience; but it was unutterably wonderful... and she was soaring higher and higher, with nothing on which to hold save her master... higher and still higher... and then, when he took her into his mouth and she could feel him sucking on her, her world exploded into a million brilliant lights and she felt she could hardly breathe. 

The entire experience was sweet and tender and exciting beyond words, and she felt wonderfully safe and secure and embraced by... a feeling of absolute pleasure. Amid all else, was the feeling that he wanted her to be right where she was, secure in his arms. He wanted her, her master, for sure. As she thought about that, the emotional fog of orgasm gradually clearing, she could feel his hand on her bottom, holding her. No body had ever touched her bottom; certainly no man... it felt to her as exactly what he intended it to be. He claimed her as his, and she wanted to be just that.

"I want to caress you, and your pretty breasts, each time I call for you, Brianna. Will you enjoy me doing that?" What did he really expect her to say? 

Brianna didn't feel like a genie... she didn't know what she felt like. She didn't know because she was a genie, and genies normally don't know how girls feel, how intense and sweet can be the pleasures of love and passion. But she knew she liked it, she liked it very much. And he had said that's what he would do to a girl, and to her were she his girl. She had to figure this out, she determined to herself anew. How does a genie become a girl?

What neither she nor her master understood was that such momentous events in the existence of genies automatically generated an entry in there service record, a simple symbol in the right column, denoting advanced emotional involvement with a human. Kissing and sexual arousal generated entries of a less severe nature, but by the time they got to Omaha there was a series of little symbols on her record.

All the way across Missouri they talked about the girls she had seen at the commissary parking lot and the ice cream stand and other places. When she became a girl, would she get to wear pretty clothes to? Would she get to have more than one silk gown to wear to go places with him? Maybe a yellow one? Yellow was a pretty color, she said. Feeling more secure with him after her orgasm, she opened up and was more anxious to ask questions. At the gas pump he showed he the engine and described a bit about how they work. Simple things amazed and fascinated her: window glass, concrete and asphalt, the radio, and all the gadgets in the car... windshield wipers, the heater and air conditioner and the fan. 

Before she got too tired she wanted him to hold her again. They had just crossed the Iowa line when she laid down on the seat, her head on his leg and snuggled up to the seat back. He held one breast and she cooed contentedly, holding his hand to her. He had suggested that she might try and sleep a little. It was part of his plan to learn more about genies. Did genies sleep? If she could sleep, would the rest revive her strength? Ok, simple questions, but questions for which there were no answers. She rested, but she never really did sleep. How could she? With her master's hand holding her breast and keeping the thrill of his attention coursing through her, sleep... what ever that was... remained impossible.

Half way across Iowa he sent her back to her jug.

At Offut the housing office assigned him a three room senior officer's suite. No complaints there. Wonderful! He had been thinking all across Iowa as he drove, letting her rest up well in her jug, that when he called her forth this evening he would introduce another change.

It had been a very warm day and the room was not chilly. After getting settled briefly, he sat down on the big sofa, her little jug in hand, and eased the stopper out.




The Genie Who Wanted to Be a Girl



Whoosh!

"Oh, My Master, I'm so happy to be with you again. Do you have a command for your genie? How may I serve you?" The was a slight pause as she slipped the blue silk away from her breasts and, slowly, she extended her hand and let it drop into his lap, with a little saucy little smile for him.

"Welcome, Brianna, my most beautiful genie with the delightfully perfect breasts. I am happy to see you again, and yes, I have two commands for you. Are you ready?"

'"Oh, yes, My Master, please command and I will obey."

This was going to be very good, he thought to himself. "Brianna, take off all the material you are wearing so that I may see you entire body."

"Oh, My Master, I may not remove the gold chain, though." She was already slipping out of the gauzy silk-like material around her legs as he considered the chain briefly. A small medallion connected the chain and hung just above her cute little mons Veneris. Was this some symbol of ownership or power or control? He wondered, but was soon distracted by the extraordinarily beautiful form before him, nude now but for her chain and the gem in her naval, and not an arms length in front of him. She stood there waiting for his next command, and he could think of several if he gave his passions their head. 

"My dear, sweet genie... you are a beauty beyond comprehension, Babe." Now what? "Come and sit with me here on the couch."

But the room did feel chilly to her, since she felt so very naked before her master and anxious as to what would happen. She shivered as she knelt on the sofa and she was anxious not to disappoint him. She didn't notice that he did, and it surprised her when he pulled the folded blanket off the end of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was a soft material, and it made her feel cozy and cuddly. He gathered her to him, laying her across his lap with her head on his shoulder, and was about to kiss her.

"What is your second command, My Master?"

He had forgotten. How easily is a man swayed by stimulating incentives! Whatever it had been, he recast it now afresh, "Come, Brianna, snuggle with me and enjoy being kissed, and caressed, and... and... my hands exploring your pretty body." It was not like him to be so aggressive, yet he had figured, correctly, that once commanded his genie would voice no reluctance.

With only her brief experience with him, she felt confident in complying with his command. Without any greater knowledge and experience, however, she was in for a wild ride. He had her hairbrush handy, and brushed her hair, gifting his genie with a feeling of his high regard that thrilled her. His kisses were light and airy in the beginning, and then more passionate and demanding, and he did things to her with his tongue that took her breath away.

She felt his hand on her breast again, stroking tenderly, playfully drawing little circles around her nipple, making her almost delirious with joy, and then kissed her, drawing her sensitive little nipple into his mouth and sucking on her. Reveling in his attention to her breasts, she could only respond in whimpers and moans for him to please not stop. It was to her like that night when he first held her breasts in his hands, but about a million times better. 

As her master continued to play with her breasts, she could feel his hand moving down her tummy and that her bottom was all tingly. Now, once more, as she had the night they went to the club, she felt his warm hand engulf her very soul as he cupped her mons and held her tight. The stimulus was thrilling and almost too much, and her body was strangely relaxed as he held her, all her senses focused on her feeling his hand between her legs, almost commanding, as she thought of it, her total submission to her master. His voice was rich and deep, and soothed her... telling her that there between her legs was her very own pretty little flower... the imagery was vivid and bright to her, since she loved flowers. She felt his fingers moving on her, then in her, and the sensation was wondrous beyond all she had ever known. She loved his attention and each touch and caress was a brilliantly beautiful new adventure to her.

After playing with her bottom, stroking her lightly, and caressing her intimately, he had opened her legs and made her gasp and squirm as his fingers continued to play with her little flower, his gentle touch like a firebrand to her emotions. Now, after all that, she lay in his arms, her breath gradually returning to normal, and feeling his kindness sooth her spirit. She basked in the warmth of his attention and gave herself up to him, more literally than she knew. 

He could see that she was his, totally his, since she was groggy with desire, thrust her breast up to his mouth for his kiss and held his head to her. All she had been able to do was whimper sweetly, so cute and feminine, as he fingered her bouncy bottom and explored the warmth of her very moist pussy.

With a gentle sucking on her one breast, and his fingers once again stroking her delicate folds and thrusting into her gently, he carried her emotionally to the very peak and, feeling safe in his arms but altogether without warning, she once again soared off into the stratosphere of a healthy, consciousness shattering orgasm – a fabulous flight of fortune well beyond the fantasy of a genie. 

She was incredibly beautiful, he thought, shaking, squirming with the sensations of pleasure wracking her entire being, gasping for breath, her beautiful body flushed, vibrant, radiant, and in massive sensory overload.

It was several minutes, perhaps much more, before she regained something approaching awareness of things around her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, a smile of supreme satisfaction gracing her countenance and a luster in her blue eyes that made her the most beautiful girl in the world. He reached over and kissed her lightly, and with the last bit of her strength, she reached an arm around his neck.

After some quiet, thoughtful moments, enjoying the afterglow as the thistledown gradually settled to earth, she found her voice to ask. "What did you do to me, My Master?"

"Did you like that, Babe?"

"Yes, Oh, yes, My Master, I loved it... that was... wonderful...like before only more, a thousand times wonderful."

"We made your own little flower blossom, Darling. I will play with you and make you blossom often now, Babe, as a girl and as my lady. You are beautiful beyond my imagining."

Her eyes were bright, her face and breasts flushed with a delicate pink, and he gathered her into his arms again, letting her head rest on his shoulder and his hand on her cute bottom. She was a precious genie beyond all dreams.

He checked the clock, thinking about her endurance. She had been with him about an hour and forty minutes. Did he need to send her back before she expired?

"Brianna, are you OK?'

Her voice was weak, and her response slow. "Yes, just tired... I'm so happy... thank you, My Master." She was nearly gone, he could tell, even as he noticed her entire body glowing. She seemed to be alight with happiness as she looked up into his eyes, weary and spent, but supremely happy. 

"Brianna, thank you for your beauty; you warm my heart. Back to your jug now to get some rest, I'll call for you again soon."

"No, please... I don't want to..."

"Babe, back you go now."

Whoosh; a little slower whoosh than before. He placed the little stopped back, and let his head fall back against the high back of the chair. Marvelous! He could still not fathom how very beautiful was his genie, and how much she brought him joy just being with him. He dozed for a time in the warmth of the day, thinking and reliving the last hours with his cute little genie. He held her – she was in her jug now, but his hand caressed the little vessel as were it her perfect breast – and he enjoyed the day and the turn his life was taking. 

There was now yet another added to the series of little symbols on her record.

So, he had found yet another interesting detail about her. She could orgasm... and you just mildly either; he had rocked her world twice in one day! Genies could feel and respond to stimulation. Where was the difference, he wondered again, between a genie and a girl? Was there yet more he could do to her, with her, for her that would make her a girl? He had explored her pussy and probed gently and, besides feeling her respond with delight, there seemed yet no evident difference between a genie and a girl. Where was the transition point? Assuming that such was even possible, that a genie could become a girl, how does that happen?

The next morning he had desert before breakfast. She whooshed into the room with a delightful smile, and a warm welcoming kiss, and, in a shy and subtle way that surprised him, offering him her breasts to play with and caress, with her inviting smile full playfulness. She brushed her long hair seductively and they talked briefly about the day, but as he fondled her – his roaming fingers lighting fires within her – she became starry eyes and left off brushing and cooed her pleasure at his playing with her. Before very much time had passed he had her on her back, her pretty legs spread wide, and laying between them, he plundered her cute little pussy with his fingers and tongue. For more than an hour he kept her close to the brink, teasing and tantalizing, driving her higher, letting her back down... and finding that the light flow from her vagina was sweet and delicate to the taste, and wonderfully fragrant. When, finally, he decided to do it, he sent her soaring like a bird, her massive orgasm crashing upon her like an ocean wave, her plentiful flow gushing forth, and her thrashing about draining her of her mornings strength. Crying big tears of thankfulness and begging him to hold her in his arms, he brought her close to him and felt her relax and rest. He had not imagined a flower so fragrant, with petals so pink and petulant and wanting, a response to him so open and passionate, he had not ever imagined a girl so perfect.

Her arms were around his neck, but he became aware that she was drawn out to her limit, so massive had been the emotional demand on her energy, and she was near to exhaustion. "Brianna, darling...," she was not letting herself be aroused from her slumber, "Babe, wake up...!"

"Oh, My Master, you make me so happy." Her voice was but a whisper.

"Come, Babe, time now. Quickly! Back you go now into your jug." 

The whoosh was the slowest ever, but she made it. He replaced the little stopper, wondering just how she was handling this, and set her on the table. She filled his consciousness as he showered and wrapped up his stuff and checked out, even as he ordered bacon and eggs at the breakfast brunch line at the club. He drove on for several hours, deep in thought, perplexed at a puzzle that seemed to have no solution. The sun was bright, the air clear and fresh out on the prairie, and he enjoyed the open country. The only thing he missed was her presence with him, her sitting next to him, and their chats and playing together.

That evening they had not made as much progress driving that day as he had planned, but then other things had come up, and there was no pressure anyway. At the motel's front desk he asked about a nice place for dinner, and got a good recommendation. In their room... his room, he had registered for one... he unpacked her hairbrush, her blue dress and shoes. When he removed the stopper she appeared, but she appeared different than before. He noticed it immediately; she was still glowing! And, too, as the silk dropped away, she smiled at him, with a special something in her eye, a sweet surrender, a deeper trust, a confidence in him that stirred his blood... and his heart.

It can be argued that genies do not understand love, that this emotion is reserved for the human species. Be that true or not will go undecided here. What was very obvious, though he could not really see it for what it was, his genie had become so very dedicated to him and desired his company and attention so very much, that it remains problematic whether such might properly be identified as love. If not because of her love, then whence the glow about her that heightened her beauty so?

He took her with him into the shower, toweled her dry and brushed out her long hair as she lay for him on the bed with her head in his lap. Her eyes were soft and submissive, her manner tender and responsive. She gasped as he held her one breast, and he could read the desire and need in her eyes.

What he could not measure was Brianna's progress across that emotional prairie beyond the forbidden frontier she had already crossed in enjoying his company. Their chats on the ship had started it, then the night outside when he played with her breasts, he had aroused emotions and carried her forward. She had followed willingly because he was kind to her, and in doing so crossed that forbidden frontier almost before she understood it existed. What neither of them knew was that such indiscretions by a genie were each noted and in due time there would be a reckoning. 

No one could say, nevertheless, that she was failing to perform as a genie. No way! Her master was more than pleased, and would have responded to any inquiry with a superior rating. The satisfaction of the master was not, however, the only criteria, not where jealousy and power held sway. A genie in such an environment feels dominated, crushed and hopeless, without prospect of anything else.

Accordingly, an inexperienced fourth rate genie can hardly be criticized for responding as any girl would – genie or human – when confronted with a master who is handsome, and capable, and kind.

After all, she's only human... well, a genie, anyway.

Her hair brushed out to a glistening sheen, he helped her first into her shoes, tying the ribbons snugly about her ankles. Standing there before him, he could not resist her invitation – a girl... or a genie, need hardly do a thing when she desires the attention of her sweetheart – to take her once again in his hand, holding her between her legs and lifting slightly, by that intimate gesture telling her with passion and depth, that he claims her, he wants her, he desires her... all of her, as his companion and lover... that he loves her.

And with such intimate and welcome confirmation of her place with him, she will follow him anywhere... anywhere at all.

He held her blue dress as she stepped into it. He helped with the ribbon ties behind, but in the mirror he could see there was much more of her left bare until she tied the ribbon across her beautiful breasts. 

No primping, no face paint, no gloss and glitter... just his genie, Brianna... genuine and open, freshly radiant, pleasantly curved and with full and thrusting breasts, and poised daintily, waiting for him... her fragrance was scintillating, and she was lovely beyond conception! 

He had dressed in slacks and a blazer, and they were off to dinner, the prince with his princess on his arm.

Nebraska is beef country, and the menu reflected that. He ordered for them, selecting light dishes that would not overwhelm her, and they enjoyed the time together. The conversation was pleasant, and she was anxious to learn more about him. In the course of things, he noticed that her eyes twinkled brightly for him, and her countenance seemed alive and glowing. She was a beauty to behold, and he noticed that others did too.

The conversation could not seem to get around to love and their relationship simply because she had no idea that such existed. How would a genie learn about such? He had awakened the emotions within her, and they thrilled her, but identifying them as 'love' was out of her reach. Wanting to please him and be a 'girl' for her master, that now was something she could work with. Still, she had not figured out how to accomplish that. It was, even so, a lot of fun and a magnificent thrill when her master played with her. His mouth on her breasts and his fingers... his tongue inside her were enough to make her throw all caution to the wind.

Later that evening there was very little caution remaining and the wind had blown far away. He had 'loved' her some more, kissing her, playing with her body, making her all hot and so ecstatic she could hardly breathe, and then making her 'cum' for him. She was sweaty and flushed after three 'cums' in the space of the evening and totally drained and exhausted in her master's arms. 

She wasn't at all sure what all happened, but his loving was a joy unspeakable, and she basked joyfully in her masters attention. She didn't want to go back, but her voice was too weak to protest, and, anyway, she knew her master would call for her again soon.

The row of symbols on the record was longer now.

As before, in Norfolk, she left her things behind. He replaced the stopper, and looked thoughtfully at the blue silk on the bed next to him. She was the most stunning genie he had ever imagined... though he had not spent much time thinking of genies. For that matter, his genie was the most stunning girl he had ever imagined. What had to happen for her to become his girl? That still plagued him.

He had come very close that evening with her to simply casting his own cautions to the wind and making love to her. Some fellows would call that just fucking her brains out. There was some validity to that, but the word itself was one he didn't use because in so many contexts its usage was vulgar. His desires and urges were powerful, and having her with him so open and vulnerable and willing, was a challenge to his self control. Yet, he knew too that he loved her. That meant, for him, to keep things in perspective and take her to that ultimate step only when he understood better what was involved for her. Loving her meant considering her, and what it would mean to fuck her, and he couldn't yet be sure in his own mind.

As they climbed through western Nebraska into the Rocky Mountains, he twice drained her stamina in playing with her body. In the morning, just before noon, he gave her three orgasms.

Can you imagine? He had a nude girl in the front seat with him, playful, passionate, wanting him to touch her, and make her 'tingle all over,' as she said. He had her hot and bothered and begging for more, pinched her tiny nipples and made her scream with pleasure, then thrust four fingers into her hot little cunt, sopping, and craving his attention.

After an hour he called her out again, and, with his hand between her legs and holding her, brought her again to a screaming orgasm. Her flow was plentiful and her fragrance sweeter and more intoxicating that anything ever. 

He teased her a little with his questions, getting her recite back what he had told her before. "What are these," he would ask as he fondled her breast.

"Those are my perfect breasts, My Master, for you to play with and make me hot." She liked these little games with her master, and her responses acquired a little bit of saucy as she looked at him with adoring eyes

"And what," he moved his hand lower to grasp her mons possessively, "is this, Babe?"

"That is me, My Master, my little flower. I'm yours, and love it when you possess me with your hand, and when you play with me I get aroused, and then I'm your hot little cunt." She could say that with the feminine sweetness of innocence, and her submissiveness and desire for him to play with her body and make her his girl was a tremendous satisfaction.

He let her lay, head on his leg as he drove, and sleep a little. It was a heady sensation just to have her close. Now, driving, there she lay, beautiful in her nudity, slumbering even as he held her one precious breast in his hand, and welcoming his caress. Even as she slumbered she was glowing with beauty and sweetness.