Stolen Wishes 2 (Stud) (Patreon)

Chapter Two:

Early the next morning, Farah walked her husband and daughter out to the car. She kissed her daughter lightly on the cheek but did not give her husband a kiss at all. She did not even get close enough for him to get a chance to kiss her, and though he looked hurt, Farah knew that her loyalty to Frances took priority over anything else in her life.

She checked Frances’ living room window on her way back inside and swore that he was watching her. Lincoln’s car was already gone. So was Frances’ mother, and Farah imagined that Frances was staying home that day and had a good idea of why. She smiled to herself as her loins moistened with expectation.

Her husband and daughter left, and Farah went inside and changed. She was waiting inside alone when she heard a knock at her door. Her family had only just left, and when she went to check the door, she found Frances outside, and she smiled. She knew that he should be more careful, but she was ready for him. The sex the night before had been so good that it primed her for the next time, and all she could think about anymore was his dick and how he could use her.

Frances greeted her with a smile as she opened the door and eyed her figure through her abaya as he said, “May I come in?”

Farah smiled back at him and bowed her head as she stood aside. “Of course, you may, master. My home is your home.”

“Fuck! So, it was real!!”

Still smiling, Farah nodded and closed the door after Frances as he entered. She found herself watching how his pudgy body moved and was deeply unsettled by how horny he made her. “It was indeed.” She moved around him and stood before him before bowing low on her knees. “And how is it that I may serve you today, master?”

Frances stood there dumb for a moment as his eyes fixed on Farah’s body. Even with her body cloaked in fabric, he could see the rounded shape of her ass and swore he could see the subtle divide of her ass cheeks through the cloak. He twitched, and then he adjusted himself. “You can start by stripping naked, I guess, and we’ll figure it out where to go from there.”

“Of course,” Farah purred, and she stood and stripped for him. She moved without ceremony, undoing and removing her abaya quickly and efficiently before folding it and setting it aside. She left it on the couch before reaching up to take off her hijab, but Frances stopped her by taking hold of her hand. She wore nothing else to take off for him and was naked beneath her abaya while she was waiting.

“No, no,” he said with a smile. “You can leave that on. It looks exotic, and I like it.”

Farah smiled. “Of course, master. Your wish is my command.” Frances snorted at the comment, and she giggled and said, “And how may I serve you next, master?” She kept her tone honeyed and hoped that it betrayed her affection for him. A night without him had seemed almost torturous, and she was surprised by how giddy she felt looking upon him standing in her home now.

“Next, you can take my pants off for me,” he said. “I’m going to be spending the day with you, and I feel like my pants will just get in the way.”

“Yes, master,” she purred again, and Farah approached him and deftly opened his pants with one hand. She made a point of reaching into his briefs to extract his thick, hanging dick before she kneeled to yank his pants down completely. He was already quite large, and though Farah attributed some of that to arousal, she knew enough to know that Frances was simply a large boy with a particularly large and impressive dick.

She smiled at his big, hanging cock and compared him silently to her husband again as she removed his pants. Limp, he was larger than her husband was erect. Even his heavy balls were larger, too, and the entirety of him filled her with arousal as she took him in. She sighed as she folded his pants onto her lap and said, “Praise Allah, that is a big cock you have there, Frances. Very impressive!”

Frances blushed. “You really like it?”

“I really do,” said Farah fondly as she stared at his dick, and then she stood and set his clothes beside hers on the couch. “It is much larger than my husband’s penis.” She turned her smile back on him and swore that he was getting larger as she praised him. It was not difficult for her to imagine a lonely boy like him enjoying her praise just as much as he enjoyed her body. “Would you like me to remove your shirt, too?”

“No,” he said quickly, and he tried to tug his shirt down to hide the bottom of his belly. He was clearly self-conscious about his body, but Farah could find him nothing but attractive due to the magic. Even without the magic, his big dick would be impressive enough on its own to distract her from his big belly. She didn’t argue, though, and merely stood in front of him in her hijab and nothing else.

“Then what can I do now, master, to make you feel more comfortable?”

“Well…” Frances blushed and looked around their home. “What do you normally do here all day?”

“I clean,” she admitted to him, and she glanced around the house. It was nice and large, though not enormous. She had a comfortable life here with her family. “I exercise, some, and I make sure that the house is stocked and ready for when my husband comes home. If I have time, I like to read.”

Frances perked up at hearing that she read and said, “You like to read?” She nodded, and he asked, “Do you like manga?”

Farah smiled politely toward him while he eyed her figure. He tried to look her in the eyes, but his gaze would often roam her exposed form. She took pride in his attention and was flattered by his clear arousal. “I’m sorry,” she said demurely, as if she was afraid to undo the joy she had brought him. “I do not know what manga is.”

“Oh,” said Frances, and he was visibly disappointed. His shoulders slouched a bit, and he muttered to himself, saying, “Well, it’s sort of like Japanese comic books, I guess…”

Farah’s sorrow deepened to see Frances sulking, but she put on a smile and held her hands behind her back to push out her mountainous mammories as she spoke to him. “I do not know those, but perhaps you could introduce me to them sometime?”

Frances met her gaze again and gave her a timid smile. “Yeah, that might be fun…” Amused by her, he stood and approached her. He ran his hand along her stomach and caressed her on his way to her left breast, which he cupped. It was heavy in his palm and too large for him to hold in its entirety. He pressed it firmly to her chest and gave a pig-like laugh as he said, “There’s some pretty lewd stuff out there. Maybe we could get some ideas from it!”

“Maybe,” Farah purred, and she chuckled quietly to herself as Frances amused himself with her body. She did not like the idea of pornography, nor did she like the idea that Frances was the type of person to look at it. Though not a prude, Farah was never someone to be a slave to sensual pleasures. Frances’ happiness made her happy, though, and by virtue of the lamp she would indulge any of his desires readily.

“Well, honestly, Mrs. M, I don’t know what to do with my day. I took the day off to be with you, but, like, I have no real plans at all. So, I figure why not go ahead and go through your little routine, and I’ll just hang out and watch you until I get some ideas.”

“If it pleases you,” she told him, and she waited for him to release her breast before she moved.

As he instructed, Farah went about cleaning her home. She started by organizing and dusting while he followed her, and she watched him watching her and smiled under his scrutiny. His attraction to her felt good and grew only better with each passing moment. Her husband had not lacked passion for her, but the way Frances was with her felt different. His decision to claim her even after she explained herself could have been viewed as cruel, but it honestly flattered her.

He did not touch her as she worked, but she would have allowed it if he had. He did follow her with a hard-on, however, and it made her want to relieve him. Frances showed incredible restraint, though, and Farah decided to honor that. He could use her as he pleased, but he wanted to savor and enjoy their time together, and she saw no reason to deny him that.

His arousal got the better of him as she did laundry, however, and he approached her from behind and began squeezing her fleshy ass cheeks and playing with them as he had played with her breasts before. His hands were strong for being so soft, and Farah smiled again and stood with her hips out toward him to allow his exploration.

“So, how does that lamp in there work exactly?”

Farah, lost in his touch, forgot herself briefly and hummed over her shoulder at first. Then, remembering herself, she smiled and told him, “My parents had angered a powerful Djinni, and this was their punishment. I was their punishment. Their daughter reduced to sexual servitude as payment for their sins.”

“Right, right,” said Frances, and he swatted her bottom and watched her jiggle. Her body was so firm yet so pliant. He could mold it as he pleased, and it would always return to its appropriate shape. This sort of freedom and power was intoxicating to him, and it felt to him almost like something he shouldn’t have. “I wasn’t really asking why it happened, but how it works. Like, what are the limitations, Mrs. M?”

“Limitations,” Farah hummed, and she began folding her husband’s laundry while Frances touched her. He traced his fingers along her wetted folds, and she shivered and held her legs apart for him. “Mm. To my understanding of the magic, the limitations are few. If you’re worried that my husband could interfere or somehow steal me back, then put those fears to rest. I am yours now and forever into the future. Even should Abdul break the lamp itself, I would remain bound to you, and I could not be taken back without the original Djinni’s intervention or Allah’s will.”

“So, you married him, but you belong to me.” Frances moved his hand lower and found her folds again. He eased a finger into her as he spoke and held her hips with his free hand to steady her. Farah released the shirt she was folding and rested her hands on the dryer to keep herself steady.

She sighed. “Yes,” she hissed, and she lifted her hips higher for him. “You have burned my hair in your seed, and through the magic wove your essence into me. I married him, but I belong to you now. He may hold my heart, but you claim dominion over my mortal soul.”

“And would you ever make love to him again,” asked Frances. He moved his finger inside of her and stirred her. His movements were clumsy and without skill, but Farah rolled her hips into him anyway and purred.

“Mm. No. Never. Not without your expressed desire.”

“My expressed desire,” asked Frances smiling, and he eased a second finger into her. She hugged him wetly and moaned. “Does that mean unless I tell you to, you won’t fuck him?”

“Yes,” she hissed again, and she bit her bottom lip to contain her pleasure. She kept her eyes closed as she moved to meet his probing fingers, and all she wanted now was to be fucked by him. “Unless you tell me that I have to, I would not make love to my husband ever again. My body has been conditioned to you, Frances. You are my master now, and so you own my pleasure, too.”

“Oh, fuck,” whispered Frances, and he removed his fingers from her. Farah felt briefly empty until she heard his zipper, and then she turned and cooed to see his hard dick exposed. Frances took her by the hair without thinking and forced her to her knees. “I wanted to wait, but you’re so hot right now that I can’t help myself!”

“Yes, master,” she purred, and she lowered herself to suck him. She fell onto him with her open mouth and choked upon his entry. Frances was beyond formidable, and if anything, her nudity and his teasing had only made him stiffer. She could taste his precum the moment he entered her wet, hungry lips, and she mewled at the flavor as it spread across her tongue.

Frances held her by the hair as he moaned. His head lulled back, and he closed her eyes to funnel his sensory input until all that he could really feel was her mouth. He sighed. “Fuck, that’s so good, Mrs. M.” Her wet, animal mewls drew his attention again, and he open his eyes to findd her staring up at him as she choked on him, and she held him by the root to flatten his pubic hair and make him look that much larger.

He grinned. “God, Mrs. M. I know it’s the lamp, but I can’t get over how hot you look sucking my dick like you’re in love with me.” Holding by the hair with one hand under her hijab, Frances used his free hand to tease and touch her breasts, and he enjoyed the sound and sensation of her moans as she worked him. “I bet you’ve never sucked your husband’s dick like this, have you?”

Farah smiled around Frances and gave him a few good gurgles before slurping her way off of his dick. She held him by the root then and pinned his stiff, gleaming shaft against her soft cheek as she smiled up at him. “Mm. No, I haven’t,” she confessed, and she could see something in Frances’ eyes asking for more. Bound to him by the lamp and seeking his pleasure, she licked the side of his cock with a flourish, and moaned as she told him, “But, his dick isn’t nearly so nice and big as yours is, Frances. He didn’t deserve this kind of treatment like you do.”

Frances throbbed when he heard that and sent precum spilling out across her cheek. Farah, rewarded for her depravity, moaned and sucked him back into her mouth while staring him in the eyes, and any guilt she might have felt in degrading her husband instead announced itself as joy. She was meant for this, and she felt good doing it for him and even if it would hurt her husband to hear, she would keep doing it for Frances, too.

Shaken and near bursting from words and tongue along, Frances yanked Farah from his dick by her hair and tossed her hijab to the side as he did. She looked like a wild woman now, completely removed from herself save for her beautiful face and chestnut eyes. “Do you want to fuck me again,” asked Frances. His voice was breathless and shaky.

Farah kissed his dick and groaned. She could feel his orgasm approaching. Frances was young and inexperienced, and he had no stamina, but that only endeared her to him. Smiling up at him again, she cooed and said, “If it would please you, master, then yes.”

He stared her hard in the eyes and looked almost angry, but she could feel the pleasure in the way he pulsed in her stroking hands, and she slowed her movements for him. He took her by the hair and yanked her head from side to side, and he said, “It would please me to fuck me in your bedroom, in the bed you share with your husband. It would please me to come in you there and make you come there. That is what would please me.”

Farah panted against him. It felt good to have him move her head by her hair, and it felt good to stroke him and speak to him. Her breasts wobbled and shook from their joint movements, and her pussy wept as she whined for him. “Then order me to take you there, master. Order me to take you there and be taken by you there.” She kissed the side of his dick again and moaned, “If you wish it, then I do, too,” and she sucked his balls.

“Then…” Frances gasped as her wet tongue tickles his taint, and he chuckled breathless as she smiled around him. He looked large beside her face, and he felt powerful as she remained on her knees nursing him while he gushed precum onto her fingers. “Take me to your bedroom, Mrs. M. Take me to the bed that you share with your husband and let me use you there.”

“Yes, master,” she purred, and she led him by his thick cock to the stairs. She led him up the stairs, and she felt him watching her big, round bottom jiggle with each step. Once they reached her bedroom, she smiled at him over her shoulder, and she pushed the door wide open and guided him inside. It was the same bedroom she has shared with her husband for years, but now it was going to be used for something far more sacred and hallowed. She turned to him at the bed, and she stroked him against her pussy. “How do you want me?’

“On your back,” he said, and he watched her with animal want as she obeyed. Farah lied onto her back with her legs open and her pussy displayed. The hair around it was wet, as were her open folds which were ready to receive him. Frances lined up, and she took hold of him to help him into her. He was without experience, but her experience belonged to him now. She moaned as he entered her, and she came as each third of his dick slid smoothly into place.

Frances groaned above her and held her by the ass as she flexed around him in climax. “You’re so tight!”

“You’re so big,” she gasped, and she hugged him about his shoulders and smiled up at him. “Oh, Frances—master—I could not have been taken by a better man!!”

Hearing her words, Frances pulsed and fired. “Fuck,” he cried out, and he held himself inside of her as he seeded her womb. Farah gasped and giggled, and she showered his neck and chin with kisses while he grunted above her. “Fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, no,” she whispered, and she soothed him with caresses on the cheek and kissed on his lips until he quieted. “No,” she told him, and she kissed him deeply before she said, “This is good. This is what I am for. Like the lamp, I am a vessel for your seed, and I am proud to receive it.”

“But…I wanted you to come, too.”

Frances’ face fell forward into her cleavage, and she laughed and rubs his back while she held him inside of her with her legs knotted around his waist. She purred. “Mm. Oh, trust me, I did. All of that flexing I did? That was my many orgasms.”

He looked up at her in quiet surprise. Timidly, he asked, “It was?”

She smiled and flexed around him again, and he gave a quick, surprised jump that made her laugh. “Yes. It was. You have given me more orgasms in two days than I have had in my entire life.”

“Really,” he asked in growing disbelief and increasing joy. A small smile eased its way onto his fat, sweaty face. “More than your husband?”

Farah’s smile softened, and she wanted to roll her eyes, but she did not. “Yes,” she said, and she kissed Frances’ sweaty pink forehead. “Much more than Abdul, and even if you hadn’t, you will grow accustomed to me in time, and then, well…” She smiled. “And then, I can really be of use to you.”

Frances, still partially erect, twitched inside of her and groaned. “Fuck, Mrs. M! You’re perfect!!”

“Thank you, master. It flatters me endlessly that you think so.”

“Move your legs,” he says, and he slaps her feet as he slips from her grasp. He squats over her and slaps his spent cock down across her face. Frances came, but he still has steel to him. Farah can taste herself on him, and the flavor is intoxicating as his hot jism remains warm inside of her. He watches her suck him with a moan. “Fuuuuck, that’s hot!”

Farah smiles around him and hugs him by his thigh. He seems to like affection, and she is glad to give him what he wants. He teases her breasts and her brown nipples as she slurps him, and he stops her to lift his dick and feed her his balls again. She nurses them obediently while his fat thighs loom over her face.

“Don’t say his name anymore,” he says suddenly, and he crawls off the bed and stands naked beside her.

“Hm?” Farah is dizzy and drunk on him, but she can see the hurt on his face and is immediately worried that she has done something wrong. “…What was that, master?”

“Don’t say your husband’s name anymore,” he tells her, and he shakes as he glares at her. “You’re my woman now. So, when you’re around me, at least, don’t say his name. Call him a cuck instead, because that’s what he is if he can’t even man up enough to dominate his genie-wife.”

It is a strange request but not one that she will debate. Sliding off from the side of the bed, Farah makes a point of kissing his big belly and his pale chest. Abdul is skinny and was handsome, but Frances is her ideal, now. She sniffs his armpit and whispers, “If it is your wish, then I will obey. That man is a cuck and no longer my husband to me now.” Frances looks at her as she holds him by his dick, and he kisses her as she stares in him in the eyes. They part, and she smiles. “You are the only man I need in my life now, master.”

With those words, Frances found his fears abated and hunger taking their place. He watched Farah suck him for a moment longer and then stood from the bed with a smile. “Come on,” he said. “I’m hungry. Let’s go find me something to eat.”

Farah followed Frances back downstairs with a smile on her face. It felt right to be with him, and though she knew it was the magic, she was glad to serve him anyway. He walked the halls of her home with his spent cock out, and she was impressed both with his size and with his inflated ego. His confidence was far greater than she had expected it to be considering his history, but she could understand why. If her husband had a dick as big as Frances’, she wondered if he would have been willing to tame her, too.

They stopped in the kitchen, and Frances smacked her big, plump bottom. “Go make me a sandwich or something.”

“Yes, sir.”

Farah went to the fridge and grabbed some cheese and margarine, and then she went to the pantry to fetch the bread. She knew it was simple, but she did not imagine Frances to be a man of refined tastes. She cooked with an apron on but otherwise worked naked, and while she buttered the bread, she asked, “So, Frances, would you like to inform me about these Japanese comics that you read?”

“They’re called manga,” said Frances from behind her. He took to squeezing and shaking her ass as she prepared his food for him. This was lewd, but she would offer him no complaint as he touched her. It didn’t bother her. In fact, if it did anything to her, it made her feel closer to him. “I mostly like hentai manga, but there are a few regular ones that I like.”

“What is hentai?”

“Like manga pornography,” he said, and he swatted and bounced her rear with a stupid smile on his face. He knew it was juvenile, but Frances simply could not get over having Farah as his slave. He could do anything to her, and he was doing whatever he wanted to her, and she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Pornography?” Farah put the buttered bread down and laid two slices of cheese between them. She kept the heat on medium and listened as the margarine sizzled. “I see.”

Farah was not passing judgment on him, and Frances knew that much. He assumed that she would not be the type to like pornography, and he also assumed that she had limited exposure to it. He knew for fact that he could change that if it pleased him to, and so he didn’t bother himself with worrying about her opinion on the matter. He could make her think whatever he wanted her to think with a word.

“I also like this one where a young man’s family is eaten by demons, and his sister is cursed, so he takes with him and learns how to fight demons and slay them.”

“I see,” said Farah, and she flipped the grilled cheese. She did not know what to say but kept her legs parted for him as he explored her thighs. She bit back a moan as he teased her folds, and she felt his heavy dick slipping and slapping her thighs sometimes when he moved. His youth was showing because she could feel him thickening as he teased her.

“Yeah,” he said, and he slapped his heavy dick down across her round bottom. “I like another that’s about a young man with chainsaws on his arms.”

“That sounds horrifying,” Farah said, and she slid the grilled cheese from her pan and to the plate. Frances let her move to wash the pan while he ate, but he had not even finished the sandwich before he was behind her again and easing himself into her. Farah was surprised by his sudden entrance into her body, but she braced against the sink with a smile and lifted her hips to grant him entry.

“No, it’s awesome,” he said, and he gasped as he reached his root in her. Frances was not fully erect when he first wiggled his way inside of her, but her wet, flexing pussy soon had him there. He held her by the hips and hoped that his recent orgasm would be enough to keep him from going too fast this time. “Damn, Mrs. M, your pussy is tight! Are all the other genies as tight as you?”

Farah gasped and quivered as Frances fucked her. It was hard to think as he held her so tight by the hips. His movements were aimless and selfish, but his dick was perfect for her.  Holding the sink, she moved to meet his thrusts and used her own body to build a rhythm around his natural tempo, and unsurprisingly, it quickly became the best sex of her life.

She moaned. “Nn. I don’t know any other genies,” she told him. “But I imagine any genies you made would feel tight around you because, like me, they would be rebuilt to serve you with their bodies.”

Frances thickened inside of her despite his recent orgasm and slowed his movements to keep from shooting too fast. Holding her tight by the hips, he slowed her, too, as he drove deep into her with careful, steady strokes. “Wait…! Are you…telling me…I…can make…more…genie…sluts?!”

Farah shook in climax and smiled in a dizzy way as she rested against the sink. “Yesssss,” she hissed.

“Fuck,” growled Frances, and though he tried, the idea of him building a harem of genie bitches rebuilt to service his dick was too much. He swelled, and he held himself deep inside of her as he fired. Farah did not mind and flexed around him. Even if she hadn’t enjoyed the sex, she would have done the same since she was his property. The fact that they fucked so well together was just an added bonus.

Frances held inside of her for a moment as he caught his breath, and Farah smiled as she rested against the sink countertop. She felt full and warm inside in a way that her husband simply could not do for her. She knew it was the magic, but that knowledge did nothing to diminish the joy of it. She enjoyed this, and she didn’t care why she enjoyed it.

He swatted her big ass and watched the waves it caused. Then, smiling, he slipped out of her. “Fuck, that is good.”

Farah didn’t like how much he was cussing, but she didn’t say anything. His semen ran down her shapely thigh as she stood, and she was still smiling as she turned to regard his heavy body and his sizable manhood. “Would you like me to clean you, master?”

Frances looked at his dick and shook it at her. “Nah,” he said. “Not this time. You can clean me later.” He looked at her and grinned. “For right now, I need you to get dressed. We’re taking you shopping.”

Frances sat in the back of Farah’s minivan and pretended like it was a limousine as she drove him to the nearby shopping district. He guided her to a nearby sex shop, and she parked with a frown. She knew that she was powerless to refuse Frances, and he knew it, too. She liked the power he had over her, but she did not like all of his ideas for her, and she was feeling deeply ashamed as she climbed from the van with him.

She adjusted her abaya frantically to keep herself busy, and Frances watched her with a silly grin on his face. Even dressed like she was, she could not hide her womanly curves. He reached into the van with overconfident familiarity and pulled her purse out, and he handed it to her. “Let’s not waste time, Mrs. M. We only have so long before your husband and daughter come home, you know.”

“I know, master, I know.” Farah looked over her shoulder at the sex shop and sighed. “I have never come to a place like this before. I do not feel welcome here.”

“Oh, they’ll welcome you alright.” He swatted her hard across her big, jiggling butt and watched her flesh move. “They welcome anyone with money.”

“That is not what I meant,” she told him, and she thought to herself how the money was only part of the problem. Her husband did well, but she did not want him to see where his money was being spent today. She wished she had gotten the chance to get cash instead, but as it was, she only had her card with her.

Frances cupped her rear now and gave it a firm, playful squeeze. Holding the flesh, he shook it and said, “We’re wasting time, Mrs. M.” He gave her another swat and then shoved at her back. She stumbled forward, and he followed with his hands in his pocket. “Let’s go.”

“Yes, master,” she said, and she hung her head in resignation. Her husband rarely looked at their finances as it was, so it was unlikely that he would ever find out. Even if he did, she reminded herself, it did not matter anymore. She was still Abdul’s wife, but she was Frances’ property, and this chubby young man could do whatever he liked with her regardless of how she or anyone else felt about it.

They entered the sex shop together with Farah at the lead. She did not hesitate to follow directions, but she did not like it. It felt wrong to enter this small building where the carpet was crushed down beneath her feet. The air was stale and smelled of heat and secrecy. The walls were lined with dildos and lingerie. There were a few books and a few movies on display, and further back there were kinkier offerings that she did not understand or feel comfortable seeing.

Frances guided Farah with a hand on her back and used her like a battering ram to move through the store. The aisles were narrow and the air hot and stuffy. She moved in stilted steps and was slowed by her discomfort. Frances was slow, too, and though he was anxious, his movements were hampered by an anxious excitement. Like her, he had never been inside of a sex shop and like her, he recognized it as taboo. Having brought her here, though, also empowered him, and guiding her with a hand continued that empowerment for him.

Farah looked back at Frances with a pleading stare as she held her purse clutched to her heavy bosom. He had brought her without a bra on, and the shape of her stiff, brown nipples showed through the fabric of her abaya. The male clerk leered at her in a way that unsettled her. She belonged to Frances and not to that man. The Djinn had cursed her to serve, but she did not wish to endure such glances from men other than Frances.

“Master, please, can we go,” she whispered. “We can get whatever you want here from somewhere online.”

Frances gave a cruel grin and swatted her on her large, jiggling bottom. “But your embarrassment is half the fun for me,” he told her, and that was all she needed to hear to suffer this. With Allah as her witness, all she wanted was Frances’ pleasure, and if this pleased him, then she would do it.

She sighed and hung her head in resignation. When she opened her dark eyes again, they were full of resolve. “Then what can I do to please you, master? What are we here for?”

Frances stopped and stiffened. The look of adoring obedience that Farah gave him when he issued commands was intoxicating to him, but it also frightened him. He went from a virgin to owning the most beautiful MILF he had ever known, but his mind was not yet matured. He was still learning how to rule, and he was beginning to realize that having dominion and knowing how to use it were two different things.

He wetted his lips before speaking. “I want to buy you something sexy,” he said, and he felt his cheeks warming. He could have her naked whenever he wanted. In fact, he could order her naked in this shop, and she wouldn’t be able to refuse. That wasn’t enough for him, though. He wanted to dress her how he pleased just as much as he wanted to undress her. The knowledge that he could use her as a doll and as a tool for his pleasure were equally intoxicating. He eyed her figure and cupped her breast and said, “I want to put you in lingerie underneath your robes. I want you to be my secret slut without the world knowing.”

Farah blushed and smiled. She did not like the word slut, but it sounded good on Frances’ lips. “Yes, master,” she said, and she pointed toward where they could find some lingerie. “Then, I suppose we should start there first.”

“We should,” said Frances, and he followed her through the shop.

It impressed Frances how Farah changed for him. She moved with purpose in the shop, and when he lagged behind her, she took him gently by the hand and pulled him after her. She was delicate with him when she needed to be, and she was patient with him, too. He wondered if this was how a parent treated a child, and he wondered after that if it should concern him that it aroused him.

“And how do you like these,” asked Farah when they stopped at the lingerie. She began picking up different outfits and holding them to her body. There was a dizzying array of clothing to pick from, and Frances had little experience to draw off of. Anything he could put on her body seemed sexy to him, but he did not want her to know that. He wanted her to think he was knowledgeable. He wanted to corrupt her.

“Um, well, let’s look at them and…” He was interrupted when his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it, and he frowned.

Farah mirrored his expression on instinct and moved closer to try and steal a glance at his phone, but she could not see his screen from the angle where he stood. “Is everything alright, master?”

“It’s fine,” he said, but he was distracted. He looked at her in a distant way and said, “You pick out a few things that you think I might like, and I’ll be right back.” Then, he hurried away from her with his phone to his ear and began whispering in a heated manner while she searched.

Farah wanted to listen, but she had been given a command and was unwilling to ignore it to fulfill her own desires. She dug through the rack of clothing and pulled a few items down, and then she stopped to consider them as she held them across her forearm. Farah loved dark, rustic browns and stately grays. She has always been a woman of rare beauty, and in fact that had been the sin that had earned her family rebuke from the Djinn. Her beauty was lust-invoking, and she had not always carried herself with such care and consideration.

She liked colors that drew attention away from her, and as a mother she liked to blend into the background. She always feared what would happen if her beauty had bewitched others as it had before. She was far away from the Djinn, but still its curse followed her.

These clothes were not for her, though. They were for Frances. She would wear them, but she would wear them for his pleasure. So, while she felt that dull colors would suit her sensibilities, she was not so certain that they would excite Frances’ interest, and she took care in reconsidering her choices.

She thought about Frances and what little she knew about him, and she thought about how he had seemed to enjoy teasing her and holding dominion over her, and she put a number of the outfits back to replace them with something brighter and more risqué. What she chose instead were a number of thin, sheer pieces that hid things tactically while still displaying her to him. She also chose one bright pink thing that made her feel silly and young again when she held it up to her body.

When Frances returned, he was frowning. Farah met him with a tender smile and showed him the lingerie she had picked out and hung on her arm. “Is this suitable, master?”

Frances looked at what she had but had no energy left to pretend at control. “It’s fine,” he snapped, and he stalked the aisles of the shop with Farah following him. “We should get you a collar, too,” he said. “Proof of my ownership.”

“Yes, master,” she whispered demurely. She was desperate to improve his mood and led him by the hand to the collars and leashes she found. They were not like the kinds of collars and leashes found in a pet store or at a grocery store. They were thin, delicate things that she imagined fit like the lingerie she was carrying. Frances took the lead this time and examined each closely as he searched for one he wanted for her.

“There,” said Frances when he found a pink one that fitted about her neck like a choker. He attached a slender, tinkling chain that fit her more like a necklace than a leash and was finally smiling as he regarded her graceful neck fastened with a pink collar that had a small heart-shaped tag attached to it. “We can put my name on this,” he said, and he fingered the tag. “Then, everyone will know that you belong to me.”

Farah could not help but smile at the thought. She was still married, but she did like the idea of being identifiably owned by him. Her husband would not understand, but his shame and surprise could be a turn on for her if it was a turn on for Frances. At this point, it didn’t matter. All that really mattered to her anymore was Frances. Everything else was just left over from the Farah she used to be before he claimed her.

“Come on,” said Frances, and he tugged gently at her leash to have her follow him.

Farah hugged her lingerie tight to her chest and stared at Frances’ back as he walked. It felt good to be led by him, though she had no problem with him guiding her from behind, either. Programmed by magic as she was, all that mattered to her was that she was near him. She walked with him in silence and paid for him at the front register. The man who checked them out leered at her. Farah did not like it, but she said nothing about it since Frances did not seem to notice.

Outside, back in the minivan, Farah buckled herself and looked at Frances in the rearview before starting the car. Every time she saw him, she smiled and felt giddy. It was the lamp, not love, but that didn’t really matter to her. The more she thought about it, the more comfortable she was with this synthetic, cursed affection she had for Frances. The feelings were there, and the feelings were real. Why they were there was irrelevant compared to how deeply she felt them.

“Mrs. M,” said Frances in a distant sort of way. He was staring out the window and did not look at her when he spoke, and he was frowning like he had been while on the phone. “Would the magic work or anyone even if they’re not Muslim?”

“The magic,” asked Farah, and she stole glances at him while watching the road. “Do you mean the lamp?”

He looked at her through the rear view, and her heart raced. “Yes,” he said.

“Oh.” She stared at the road and took a deep, silent breath to settle her hammering heart and flushed face. Her womanhood was moist. Everything about him seemed to turn her on. “I believe they would. Magic is not specific to culture or even to belief. Djinn are real whether you believe in them or not.” She looked at him through the rear view again and asked, “Why do you ask?”

Frances grew quiet and stared at his fat hands. He flexed his fingers before answering, like he was groping for a thought. When he spoke, he said, “The phone call was from my mom. The school called her and told her that I was absent today, and she was mad at me and yelling at me. We got in an argument, and she called me some names.”

“Names?” Farah frowned at the thought. Frances was clearly an imperfect person, but even without the magic of the lamp guiding her, Farah could not imagine why his mother would resort to insulting him. She knew from experience that children could be difficult. Both of her daughters sometimes disappointed her, but it was her belief that mothers should love unconditionally. That it was her master who was being insulted only made it worse.

“It’s fine,” he said, but she could tell by his downcast eyes and his quiet voice that it was not. He was staring at his hands again as he spoke to her, and this time he avoided eye contact altogether as he said, “I was wondering about the lamp, because I was thinking about burning one of her hairs, but I didn’t know if it would work. My mother is not exactly religious. She doesn’t worship anything but money and prestige, so I didn’t know if she could even be made into a genie or not.”

“Ah,” said Farah, and she thought about it for a moment longer as she turned back onto the street that would lead them home. As they pulled into her driveway, she said, “As I said before, belief is not required for magic to work. Religion and ethnicity play no part in this curse I have, but I would advise you against it, as incest is a terrible sin.”

“Incest?” Frances looked at her and balked, and then he proceeded to gag in a theatrical way that made Farah laugh. Hearing her laughter made him smile, and suddenly his sullen mood was gone as he said to her, “I have no interest at all in fucking my mom, Mrs. M. She’s not pretty like you. I just want to get that fat cow off my back, that’s all.”

Farah laughed again as she climbed from the van, and Frances waited in the back for her to open the door. “Well, that’s fine then, I suppose,” she said, and Frances swatted her ass hard. She squealed with delight and took the bags from him as he pushed her toward her house.

“Go get changed,” he told her. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Still smiling, Farah purred. “Yes, master,” she said, and she went inside.

She did not like the idea of him dominating his mother regardless of his reasons, but she was glad that he was reasonable enough not to want to commit incest. He had not known about Farah’s curse, and he was too young to truly understand what he was doing. She could forgive him for wrecking her marriage, but incest seemed wrong to her in a way that could not be compromised, and she was glad that he agreed with her.

While Farah went home and dressed for him, Frances returned to his house and searched his mother’s bedroom. He and his mother spent much of their time alone. His father made plenty of money on his own but spent much of his time out of town and often out of state. Frances saw him only a few times a year and was fairly certain that he was cheating and possibly even had another family. His mother seemed to know, too, and didn’t mind. She had married for affluence and wealth and cared very little for her husband or even for her own son.

It was easy to find one of her thin blond hairs among her laundry, and he only hoped that it was not a pubic hair when he picked it up and placed it into a plastic baggy to take with him to Farah’s house. It was long enough, and so he felt safe in assuming, but Farah had put the idea in his head, and the thought of his naked mother truly repulsed him and concerned him on his way back to Farah’s home.

Frances found Farah waiting in pink lingerie that matched the collar he had chosen for her. The lingerie fit her in a way that hugged her curves while also exposing them. Fabric was tactically open to reveal her love handles and her wide, womanly hips as well as her belly button while covering her dark nipples. What was hidden from view was still visible through sheer fabric, however, and it gave her only an illusion of modesty while revealing her to be the obedient slut that he desired her to be.

She smiled at his dumbfound awe and greeted him with her leash and with a kiss when given permission.  “Do you like it,” she asked, and she ran her hands down her body in a way that she had never done before. Frances’ tented pants told her everything she needed to know, but she liked to hear his voice and lived for his fumbled, aimless muttering.

A long, confused silence followed and he finally said, “Fuck…I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

Farah giggled afterward. It was ineloquent but to the point. She smiled. “I look forward to it, master.”

“First, however…” He jammed the bag into her face and said, “We have to burn this.”

“Your mother’s hair,” she asked, and she took the bag from him and opened it.

“I won’t let her talk to me like that anymore.”

Farah nodded and did not argue. She did not like the idea of her master being insulted for any reason and would have helped him for that alone. She walked him to the lamp and eased the hair in through the flume while he watched.

“Will you need more of my, er, oil?”

Farah smiled back at him with flushed cheeks. “There should be enough left in there,” she told him. “But, if it would please you…”

“I’d rather blow my load in you,” he said, and her pussy flexed.

“Well…That can be arranged, too, master.”

After that, Farah was allowed to leave to get a match and returned to light the hair. It smoked and burned while Frances took Farah in the living room. He fucked her in missionary while watching her breasts bounce, and he kissed her as he came deep, deep inside of her. By the time he finished, they were both breathless and had to hurry before Amina got home from school

Frances waited at home for his mother to return, and she announced her arrival like a hurricane. The door slammed open, and she entered yelling. The very sight of her big body jiggling and shambling toward him with violent intent made him feel small, but he remembered Farah’s words and devotion and drew strength from it. She was just about to him and still shouting when he shouted back loud enough to be heard over her, “Stop right there, you fat fucking cow!”

His mother froze in place and stared at him in shock before screaming, “What did you just say to me, you little bastard!” She did not move on him, though, and Frances took that as a victory as he stared at her.

“I told you to stop where you were, bitch.” He waited afterward for her to move again, and when she didn’t, he smiled. “And you did it. You actually fucking did it.”

His mother was clearly distraught but also unable to act against him, so she began screaming again in hopes that it would jar something loose or at least unsettle her son. “I don’t know what has gotten into you, but how dare you curse me and call me names like that you ungrateful little shit. After everything I’ve done to raise you and…”

“Shut up! You haven’t done anything to raise me at all except scream at me and slap me when you’re mad,” he said. “Well, tough luck, mom, you’re not in charge anymore.”

His mother glared at him but did not speak. Frances could imagine the things she was saying, though, and it set him aflame with anger. He contained it, however, and spoke evenly to her with clear diction so that there could be no confusion between them. “You’re going to set your things down, and you’re going to cook me supper. You’re making me spaghetti, and I don’t care if you have to go to the fucking store to get the ingredients to make it, but you’re making it the best spaghetti you’ve ever made in your fucking life. You got that, cow? Nod if you understand.”

His mother nodded slowly and stood stiff as she strained against whatever power he had over her. Frances smiled to see her suffering and approached to spit across her face before he ordered her to move. His saliva was running down her cheek before he smacked her across the face and said, “Then get to work, cow.”

As he commanded, his mother left to buy the ingredients necessary to prepare him spaghetti, and then she made it without complaint. He let her eat her food from the floor like the bitch she was and told her exactly that, and she ate obediently once he told her to do it. Frances was rigid the entire time and looked forward to seeing Farah tomorrow and telling her how successful it was.

He made his mother clean up after the meal and then forced her to sleep on the floor that night while he took her large, king-sized bed in her bedroom. He slept like a baby under her sheets with only the sound of her sobs to distract him. When it kept him awake, he ordered her into silence, and she laid on the floor beside the bed and wept soundlessly until she fell asleep, too.

Frances woke up hard and had to piss, so he stepped over his mother’s sleeping form and did just that. On his way back, he stopped to harass her but found her different. The fat cow of a mother he had hated so much was gone, and a more beautiful, voluptuous version of her was left behind. She was not thin, but her fat had migrated or melted away, leaving behind only supple, womanly curves which left Frances hard again. She looked like a blond-haired, blue-eyed version of Farah only slightly less curvy, and he could barely stand it.

“Mom,” he whispered, and she woke at the sound of his voice and stared at his tented briefs with genuine fear. When she followed his hungry gaze to her body, she blushed and moved the thin sheet he had given her for warmth the night before to hide her figure, but the fabric hugged her in a way that seemed to show it off, and it only made Frances hornier.

“Mom,” he whispered again, and then he gave a crooked, sinister smile that warped his entire freckled face with hateful want. “Get on all fours and lift your nightgown over that big, fat ass of yours. You’re getting fucked!”

His mother did as told and assumed the position with her hips angled to take him. Like Farah, she had a big, beautiful, round posterior with moistened, pink insides that were ready to take him. Frances squatted down behind his mother and, uncaring of their blood relation, jammed himself into her with one hard, deep thrust.

Like Farah, his mother came immediately from his entry and could hardly seem to breathe with him inside of her as he hammered her. Frances was not careful with her and lasted longer than he expected thanks to his experience with Farah. He held on as he took hold of her by the shoulders, and he slammed her as hard as he could until his stomach muscles and hips began to ache from the effort.

His mother seemed to enjoy it, and she panted like a dog with her tongue out and drooled as she flexed around him. Neither of them could keep track of her orgasms, though they both knew that there were multiple and many of them. He took her by the hair and laughed as he swatted her big, shaking ass, and he told her, “Bark for me like the bitch your are, mother. Bark!”

His mother whined at first but was compelled by the magic to obey. Not only did she bark, but she howled as she came, and now that she was given permission speak again, she told him exactly how good he felt inside of her, too. “Oh, Frances, baby! Woof! Woof woof! You shouldn’t be doing this to mommy! You’re fucking mommy! You’re making mommy come! Your dick is so big, baby! Your big dick is wrecking mommy’s pussy! You’re…You’re nothing like your father, Frances! Fuck! Woof! Woof woof! Awoooo!”

She felt him thickening inside of her, but she could not stop. He had not told her to praise him, but she felt the need to anyway. He felt good inside of her, and she wanted him to know exactly how good he felt. She wanted him to know that his body pleased her, and she hoped to please him in return for it. It did not make sense to her, but she threw her hips back into him in a desperate attempt to milk him for all the cum he had inside of him.

Frances laughed. “Spoken like a true slut, mother!”

“No,” his mother whined, but she felt him swelling and grew excited to feel him explode inside of her when he was ready to do so. She did not want this, but her body could not stop. The feel of him pulsing and throbbing inside of her was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and when he took her by the shoulders and held her in place as he rammed into her deepest parts, she came harder than she ever had in her life.

Frances came inside of his mother, and she sat shivering and whining on his dick as he filled her. She hated how good it felt, and she hated most of all how she panted and claws at the carpet in his room and drooled like the bitch he had told her to be. When he finished, Frances just held inside of her and laughed while she sat there drooling and panting like a wild animal.

He spanked her ass, and she whined with him inside of her. “Bark for me again, mother,” he told her through heavy, uneven breaths, and she obeyed, barking and howling while he held her by the hair. When he was satisfied, he withdrew from her with a breathless laugh and slapped his dick down across her supple bottom. Holding her cheeks apart to see her open cleft, he watched his semen ooze out of her with a smirk.

“I really made a mess of you,” he told her, and he laughed again. “I said I wasn’t going to fuck you, but…Oh, well!” He swatted her ass again, and she mewled without moving away from him. He stood, and he walked around to the front of her so she could see him. His mother stared at his dick with awed want, and he slapped her across her pretty new face and left her cheeks wet with their combined pleasure. “You’re calling into work today.”

“What,” she gasped, and he took her phone from her nightstand and tossed it to her. They stared at each other, and she could see no humor or warmth in his eyes. The two of them had never been close, but the cruelty she saw in him frightened her. She settled onto her knees and ignored the leaking of her pussy as she picked up her phone. “But, Frances…”

“No buts, mother,” he told her, and he slapped his spent cock down across her face in judgment. She stared at him again as his wet shaft rested across her nose, and the smell of him and the feel of his heavy wetness across her forehead did the trick. She dialed her boss reluctantly.

“Yes. Hello. Courtney? I’m sorry, but can you tell everyone that I won’t be in today. I know that we have a big deal that we’re trying to get through, but I…” She met Frances’ gaze and went quiet before she whispered, “I’m sorry, I won’t be able to come in. Why? Well…I’m sick, and I…”

Before she could continue, Frances’ mother had her story supported by the sound of Frances’ thick cock filling her throat. She gagged and choked around him with the phone still held to her mouth, and she stared up at him in wide-eyed shock as he stood over her grinning and holding her in place.

A thousand thoughts filled her at one. She could have bit his dick off, a part of her even told her that she should, but a more insistent part of her made her tighten her lips and slurp him. It was difficult to breathe around him.  Frances far out measured his father in both length and girth, and though he was comparatively limp to what he was when he fucked her, he was still quite large. Small bubbles formed and popped around her lips as her saliva was forced out of her mouth. There was no room for anything but Frances inside of her, and once her initial shock passed, she wanted to bark and howl for him again to show him what a good bitch she was.

The sound must have been awful for Courtney because she immediately expressed understanding and hung up. Frances’ mother couldn’t help but smile around her son because she was so amused at how well that worked, and when he withdrew his dick she was still smiling as she gasped for breath. She felt lightheaded, but she leaned forward to kiss his saliva-slick cock with a growing appreciation and affection for him. It was his plan to have her home, and he had made his plan work with quick thinking and forceful action, and she was the kind of woman who could appreciate that.

She nuzzled his slick shaft and whined up at him after discarding her phone. “Now, now, Frances, that is no way to treat your sweet little momma bitch. Please, baby, be more careful with this thick, heavy dick of yours.”

“Mom,” Frances said, and he cupped her head and dragged her toward his balls. “Shut up.”

His mother kissed his testicles with a mewl. “Woof, woof,” she whispered, and she sucked one of his balls into her mouth.