Bootleg Djinn
by The Ethical Hypnotist
Bootleg Djinn
A Story by The Ethical Hypnotist
A Story by The Ethical Hypnotist
“All rise! Hear ye, Hear ye! The Court of Metafictional Justice, Fourth Dimension, is back in session, the Right Honorable Judge Narrative presiding!”
Hank Hamilton was sitting in the courtroom barechested, in a pair of boxers, having gone to bed a few minutes prior. He stared in shock at the bailiff, which appeared to be a tornado made out of shimmering metallic cubes, a badge floating halfway up. The sound of rising bodies made him turn his head, and Hank saw the gallery filled to the infinite distance with what he could only assume were people; beings of every shape and description - along with quite a few that defied description, given his limited understanding of higher dimensional geometry.
A titanium claw grabbed his arm and lifted him to his feet. Hank looked up into a glowing blue orb, set into the otherwise featureless face of a ten foot tall combat robot in a charcoal business suit. A line of blue laser light emitted from the orb, scanning his face. “Stand up, Mr Hamilton!” it metallically whispered, “Don’t blow it - we’ve got ‘em right where we want ‘em!”
Something roughly man-shaped climbed to the bench. It was thirty feet tall, had four arms, huge golden wings, and its head was a ball of black fire - but it wore judge’s robes and a big white wig. It banged the gavel and everyone sat down. There was a moment of paper shuffling, then it put a hand roughly where its mouth would be and cleared its throat.
“In the case Hamilton V The Universe, I am led to understand that The Universe has reached a settlement with the Plaintiff?”
At the opposite table, a two-headed giraffe person stood. “We have, Your Honor,” the left head said. “In light of the rising action of the plot,” the right head continued, “it has been agreed that the plaintiff should receive three wishes, as pursuant to Section 22-107(b) of the Sexy Story Code.”
“What!?” Hank hissed to his robo-lawyer, but the bot shushed him. The judge turned to the pair and the robot stood up straight. “Counselor, are you and your client in agreement with this settlement? Your client accepts the settlement as redress in full for his grievance with The Universe?”
“We are, Your Honor, and he does.” he replied.
“I do?” Hank whispered.
Judge Narrative nodded. “So ordered. The parties have reached a settlement, and the case is hereby dismissed with prejudice. The jury is likewise dismissed, and the court thanks them for their time.” He banged his gavel three times, the sound like distant bells.
Hank woke up in his bed, doorbell ringing. He shook his head, and lifted up his phone - 2:30am. Grumbling, he grabbed his robe and slippers, the idiot at the door apparently leaning on the bell. “I’M COMING!” he shouted, before wincing. Mrs Parkford next door always bitched if he made noise after ten pm; shouting in the dead of night would probably get him a brick to the skull. With one final ding-dong, Hank reached the door and flung it open, ready to breathe fire on whatever idiot was on the other side.
There was, in fact, a mob of idiots. Small idiots, perhaps three feet tall, lumpy and misshapen frog-things with green wet skin. Their mouths were large, filled with razor-sharp teeth, and their bulbous eyes shimmered wetly in the porch light. They were naked, save for crude loincloths, and their large webbed feet left slimy tracks on the concrete. All of them carried spears, save two.
Hank froze, terror pinning him in place. One of the frog-things presented a clipboard and pen. “Sign…” it croaked, the word barely understandable. When he did not reach out, it hissed at him, a sound of animal fury, and furiously jabbed the clipboard at him again. “SIIIIGN!”
He took it with shaking hands. The paper clipped to the board was badly waterlogged, MAN-THING GOTTED THE BOX written in running ink, followed by a crooked line with an X. Hank signed it - Henry Joseph Hamilton - whereupon the pen and board were both instantly snatched from his hands. The second unarmed monster placed a wooden box at Hank’s feet, roughly the size of a bread loaf, then the whole mob turned and marched into the night.
Hank woke up in his bed, alarm ringing. He shook his head, and lifted up his phone - 5:15am. Grumbling, he grabbed his robe and slippers… Hank paused, feeling an intense sense of deja vu. After a moment, he shook it off and hit the shower. He washed and shaved, got dressed, then headed to the kitchen.
Sipping on his iced coffee while he waited for his toast, he wandered into the living room - and saw the wooden box resting on the door mat. Very slowly, he put the mug on an end table and moved to it. The thing was crudely made - a box for transporting, not display. The cheap wood was damp, and it smelled faintly of amphibian. Hank picked it up, hands shaking, then saw a paper tag stuck to the corner by the moisture.
You’re gonna be late, pal! Don’t worry about the box - eat yer breakfast and scram!
“Crap, you’re right!” Ignoring the unimportant box, Hank gulped down his coffee, slapped some butter on the toast and ran for his car.
“I got a large pumpkin spice soy latte with an extra shot, light ice for Sarah!” A middle aged woman took the cup from Hank’s hand, thanking him and dropping a dollar into the jar. Two more cups appeared as he spoke, the cute barista nodding to him as she put them on the counter, and he shouted those out in turn. The morning crowd surged, and the staff at Short Pull Espresso fought valiantly to hold the line.
By ten, the first wave had been repelled, but satellite imagery showed a lunch rush en route. Hank and the owner Zack - the only two guys who worked at the shop - ducked around back for a quick vape, discussing the Jazz game from the night before and the mediocre state of the Utah Mammoths.
“For a brand new team, they did okay,” Hank suggested, without much conviction. “Won more than they lost… if you don’t count the ties. Also, it’s Mammoth, not Mammoths. NHL teams have singular names now - the Seattle Kraken, the Colorado Avalanche, etc. I think it’s meant to sound tough.”
Zack took a final hit off the vape and put it back in his pocket. “I think it just sounds weird, but my degree is in PhysEd, not marketing. What do I know?” He wiped his hands on his apron and pointed to the entrance. “Alright, back to the hustle. I’ll bet that girl you wanna rail is inside by now.”
Sure enough, Dakota Wright-Simmons was at her usual seat, working on her makeup, camera and ring light resting on a tripod behind her MacBook. The woman was gorgeous - a model’s face with sparkling blue eyes and kissable lips, her hair a messy bob that tickled her shoulders, honey blonde with dark roots. She wore a v-neck crop top that showed off a long line of sun-kissed cleavage and her tight midriff, a little gemstone sparkling from a belly button stud. Long tanned legs stuck out from a pair of dolphin shorts, and she wore a pair of designer sneakers that would probably cost Hank a week’s pay.
Hank tried and failed not to stare at her as she started recording her content for the day, effortlessly smiling, pouting, and flirting into the camera for take after take. She replied to comments and emails between shots, six different windows of comments and emojis scrolling past at once.
“Dude, just ask her out already.” Hank jumped at the comment, and Zack shook his head. “She’s been ordering the same iced skinny latte every day for months, so she can sit and make her influencer crap, and every day you completely fail to ask her out. Just man up and do it. You’re handsome enough, you’ve got rizz, girls swipe right on you all the time. Besides, you already know what she looks like naked - her AfterDark account is linked right there on her socials.”
“Those pictures are very tasteful,” Hank said, blushing. “And she is totally out of my league. I’m a short skinny theater dork in glasses - maybe I could pass for a hipster. I date quirky artist girls, not models.” He poked Zack in his broad chest. “Why don’t you ask her out? You’re single, you’re like six foot three, you’re built like a brick shithouse - I bet you can get those digits blindfolded.”
“Nope, not a chance in hell. I’ve never seen a more ‘rich little Mormon girl’ in my life, and if there’s two types of guy rich little Mormon girls aren’t allowed to date, it’s black guys and Jews. Also, for the record, I’m six foot five.”
Hank’s eyes went wide. “Zachary Levi Cohen is black? Wow, news to me…”
Zack scowled and flipped Hank the bird. “Back to work, honky. Empty the trash cans, then grind and bag a few pounds of medium roast. You can goon to your Internet thot on your own time.”
“GREETINGS, BRAVE ADVENTURERS! Welcome to Wonderia! I am Perplexor the Wizard, your guide on this journey through the Caves of Mystery Escape Room!” Hank waved his plastic staff, the LEDs in the head flaring up as rumbling noises came from overhead. The dozen or so gathered office workers did their best to get into the spirit of the game, breaking up into teams and choosing character sheets from the folding tables in front of them. Hank answered questions for a while, staying in character and doing his best Gandalf impression, then withdrew when the introductory video began.
Emma and Rose were waiting in the break room when Hank entered. Rose charged at him, shouting “UNCLE HANK!” with arms outstretched. He scooped the little girl up and twirled her hard, making her squeal loud enough for Emma to shush her. “Not so loud, sweetie! People are playing the game! And not so fast Hank! Remember that she puked on your wizard robe once.”
“That was a tricky bit of improv,” he recalled. “Told them the king had drunk too much mead carousing with tavern wenches.”
“Yeah, yeah, very clever.” Emma gave him a dismissive look but smiled. “Thanks for tag teaming Rose with me. My sister’s gonna pick her up, but it’s midterms so she’s stuck on campus until five.”
“De nada.” He tickled Rose on her neck and she squirmed and giggled. “How are you holding up? Everything going ok? Any updates?”
Emma shrugged. “Same as ever. No guy likes finding out their wife is a lesbian four years into a marriage. Dan took it with more grace than I would have if things were flipped. We went out for drinks the last time he was in town. He’s got a new girlfriend; she seems nice. What do you think of Daniella, Rose?”
The girl considered the question somberly. “I like her, mama - she’s funny. I like that their names are the same. It’s easy to remember.”
“Very true, sweetie.”
“What about your folks? Any movement there?”
Emma shook her head. “Not so much. Mom says I’m a homewrecker, Dad still goes to temple twice a week to pray the gay away. At least everyone else is on my side.” She reached over and gave her daughter a squeeze. “Rose has lots of aunts and uncles who love us, and Dan’s parents are absolute angels. This little brat got spoiled rotten on her birthday - including from one Uncle Hank, I would add…” Emma glanced up at the monitor, then reached for her plastic crown. “Well, looks like it’s showtime. Queen Mysteria has to go help the clueless adventurers get out of the first damn room - again. See you two in a bit.”
Hank played with Rose on the floor, doing voices for all the sick dinosaurs while she took their temperatures and put bandages on their ouchies. Emma assumed the role of patient when the ‘brave adventurers’ finally made it to room two, then back to Hank, then Emma, and so on until the group completed the escape room. Perplexor thanked the mighty heroes for saving Wonderia, took pictures with everyone who wanted them and hustled them out the door.
After that, Hank and Emma spent twenty minutes resetting the puzzles while Rose ate her snack and colored. Jane arrived, everyone chatted for a minute, then it was time for a group of half-drunk bachelorettes to face the Caves of Mystery. Hank put his fake beard on and got back to work.
Racing through the front door, Hank ran straight to his bedroom, mysterious box completely forgotten. After a few quick adjustments to OBS and his hardware, he opened D-Pad and hit Start Stream.
“Phew, made it! What’s up everyone! I’m BusyBeaver and it’s Friday, which means it’s time for some roguelikes! We got a great lineup tonight - we’re gonna do some Laser Lords, some Werewolf Survivors, and of course some Random Randy runs. So settle in, relax, and let’s get going!”
For the next three hours, Hank played video games for his small crowd of regulars, commenting about his play, talking about his life and responding to comments in the chat. It was a pretty good stream - he got up to 375 viewers during Random Randy, and MasterBlasterBlaster had donated fifty bucks when he defeated King Werewolf without getting hit.
Finally, he gave his sign off, closed the stream, and added a few tags to the VOD so he could chop it up for YouTube videos later. Realizing he hadn’t eaten since the chicken pesto wrap at Short Pull, Hank headed to the kitchen.
The sight of the box banished all thoughts of food from Hank’s mind. There it was; the cheap wooden box that had been delivered by monsters. It hadn’t been a dream. How could he have ignored it this morning? How had he ignored it when he came home? It was sitting right there.
He circled it warily, like a man studying an unexploded bomb. After making two full circuits of the coffee table, he sat down on the couch and stared at the thing, willing it to make sense. There was a paper tag dangling from one corner by a bit of twine, and after a long moment Hank reached out and took it.
“Alright Jackson, it’s time to light this candle. Open me!”
“...Jackson?” Now equally afraid and confused, he pulled off the lid and reached inside. Wrapped within a wad of cotton rags - reeking, waterlogged cotton rags, Hank noted unpleasantly - there was what appeared to be a golden liquor bottle.
It was very heavy, like it was actually solid gold, and it was so cold that frost formed on it as Hank watched. The top was stoppered with a cork and white string, and while the bottle was unlabeled, everything was held in place by a huge blob of black wax that ran down in all directions. There was an eye-wateringly complex sigil stamped into that wax halfway down one side.
Hank took hold of the cork, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The animal part of his brain told him to let go, to throw this bottle into the trash, into the river, into the sun! This thing was a threat, a trap, a predator in the bushes. But words from a half-remembered dream drifted into his mind, whispered seductively into his ear. Three wishes…
He broke the seal.
“Hiya pal! How’s tricks?” Hank jumped out of his seat at the voice, tripping over his own legs and landing on his back. He found himself staring up at a man’s concerned face, his skin the same glimmering gold as the bottle. There were a pair of small horns, poking out from beneath a cabbie’s cap, and two pointed ears behind a tangle of black hair and some truly impressive sideburns.
The golden man…thing was tall and muscular, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and overalls. He had old school tattoos all over his arms, like a World War Two sailor, and Hank could see a thin tail flicking around somewhere behind him. He shifted his vision slightly, expecting goat legs and hooves, but the man’s legs seemed normal, and ended in very functional work boots.
“Aw jeez, buddy, didn’t mean ta give ya da heebie-jeebies!” The voice was deep and gruff, with an accent that sounded like the dog from a Tom and Jerry cartoon. Hank was lifted back onto the couch, apparently with no effort, and was politely dusted off. “There, all betta.” The huge golden man sat down beside him, the couch sagging under his weight. “So, ya won ya case and here I am. Wadda ya want?”
Hank just stared at the giant golden man with the horns that had emerged from the bottle, silently mouthing the words that had just been spoken to him.
After an awkward moment of this, the man-thing put a worried hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Didn’t ya lawyer explain any of this to ya? What about the process monsters? Nobody?!” When Hank shook his head, the golden man shot up from the couch, outraged. “Don’t nobody take this stuff seriously!? Don’t nobody take pride in their work no more!?”
He wheeled, furious at the situation, and Hank jumped back, ready to run. The golden man put his left hand up, a tattoo of that strange sigil on the palm. “Relax friend - I’m on yer side!” Hank instantly slumped in relief, sagging back into the couch, and the golden man continued.
“You won yer case in court against the universe, so ya get a big fat settlement - and I’m here to pay out! I’m Da Genie in Da Bottle; you can call me Gene!”
The terror of the situation drained away, Hank’s primary emotion in this moment had become confusion. He stared at Gene, baffled. “I… won a court case.. against the universe. The entire universe? What did the universe do to me? Why don’t I remember?”
Gene shrugged. “Dunno buddy. Gotta talk to ya lawyer about that. As fer rememberin’, might could be cuz da Universe ain’t done it to ya yet. Cause and effect can get tricky when yer dealin’ with anything outside ‘a local space-time.”
“But none of dat matters right now. I received a work order, signed and sealed by Judge Narrative, to deliver one Full Strength Wish with all da bells and whistles to Henry Joseph Hamilton, 2605 South Street, Unit two.” Gene poked Hank in the chest with a fat golden finger. “Dat’s you.”
Hank shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. “This is crazy. I filed a lawsuit against the Universe? What does that even mean? I sorta remember a courtroom, but I thought it was a dream! I wish I could remember…” He gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth and turning fearful eyes to Gene.
The genie waved it off. “Nah pal, I don’t work like dat. I’m a member of da Genie Union, Local 81! No sloppy offhand wishes, no twisting the clients words around for cheap laughs. Quality, handcrafted wishes, made with pride and da highest standards in the multiverse. When you want to alter reality, accept no substitute!”
Gene raised his left hand again. “Think hard. I’m sure you can remember if you really try. Maybe dat’ll put ya mind at ease.”
Hank concentrated and the memory came flooding back. The courtroom, his lawyer, the judge, the final agreement between him and the universe. He opened his eyes, deeply skeptical. “The settlement was for three wishes,” he said accusingly. “Why am I only getting one?”
“Da settlement was fer three, sure, but yer forgettin’ yer lawyer’s fees - plus da taxman takes a bite too. Takes a lotta bureaucrats to keep the multiverse runnin’. Still, one wish is better than no wishes, ya know what I’m sayin?”
“Fair enough, I guess.” Hank considered the point, and Gene was right - he was one wish ahead from where he’d been an hour ago. “So… um, what happens now? What do I have to do? Do I get some time to consider my wish?”
“I’m in no rush, cousin. Union Genie’s job’s not done ‘til the client is satisfied with their wish. What say we grab a bite, give ya a minute ta think it over? You got any liverwurst in ya ice box?”
“Um, no. How about some pizza?” They moved to the kitchen and Hank threw two slices in the microwave. Standing there, watching a longshoreman from the 1940s with horns and golden skin stare at the rotating food with rapt attention, reminded Hank just how unbelievably fucking weird this whole situation was. “You’re not what I imagined a genie would be,” he offered by way of conversation.
“We ain’t done da pointy shoes and puffy pants in a dog’s age. Union updated the dress code a while ago. It’s all very modern - da bee’s knees.” Gene took a bite, nodding his approval, then pointed his slice at Hank. “So what’s your story pal? What’s been buggin’ ya lately? What can I do ta make yer life better?”
“I dunno man! It’s a big question.” Hank considered as he chewed. “I suppose I can’t wish for more wishes?”
Gene shook his head, a dark expression on his face. “Hank, buddy, ya seem like a nice guy. This is yer first wish, I’m yer first genie, I’m sure ya didn’t mean nothin’ by that question.”
“So lemme give you some free advice - no monkey business with wishes. No metawishes, no recursion, no contract language and definitely no wishing for more wishes. Try anything like that, and the Union rules are real clear - we gotta tune ya up. Ya follow?”
Hank nodded, very slowly, and Gene’s smile returned. “Perfect. I knew you was a smart kid. So, monkey business aside, wadda ya want?” He waved his left hand at Hank. “Don’t overthink it. Keep it nice and simple. Just say what you want most, right now.”
“I want Dakota Wright-Simmons!” he blurted, then slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Sex! Classic wish! Nine times outta ten, it’s sex or money - and usually they use da money to get more sex.” Gene pulled a notepad and a stubby pencil from the front pocket of his overalls. He flipped open the pad and licked the pencil tip. “Okay, wadda ya thinking, wife or sex slave?”
“Sex slave!?” Hank shouted, horrified at the idea.
“Good call. Sex slave’s always simpler; no chance of divorce with sex slaves.” Gene made a note and closed his pad. “Lemme grab my bottle and we’ll have her calling you master in no time flat.”
“YOU CAN’T MAKE HER INTO A SEX SLAVE!”
“Nah, it’s real simple! See, what I do is, I take her will and make it into a copy of your will! That way, anything you want, she automatically wants it too!” Ignoring Hank’s horrified expression, Gene elbowed him in the ribs and waggled his eyebrows. “Makes things real spicy in the bedroom, believe you me - you ain’t got to tell her what to do, ‘cause she’s already doin’ it.”
“I won’t let you make her into a sex slave!” Hank angrily clarified. “You can’t make her into my wife either! No changing her at all! We can’t just go around changing people!”
“Ok, Mister Morals, no need ta get touchy. We’ll do it your way - the client is always right!” Gene put his hands up for peace, then pointed a warning finger. “But seein’ as you gotta wish this Dakota dame inta yer bed, somebody’s gotta budge, and if it ain’t her… then it’s gotta be you.”
“You’re gonna change me?” Hank eyed the genie warily. “Change me how?”
Gene shrugged. “Depends on what she wants in a playmate. We gotta change you enough so’s Ms Dakota Wright-Simmons will wanna jump yer bones day and night. Enough so’s she can’t keep her hands offa you, Enough so’s you have a season pass to Poundtown, Enough - “
“I get it!” Hank finished. “But that’s real fucking vague. What if the changes are too crazy? What if I don’t like the changes?”
“I told you, I’m a Union Genie! I make high quality, handcrafted wishes! It’s like buying a tailored suit - we take some measurements, cut and stitch, then you try it on and we make adjustments! I’ll keep checking in ‘til the wish fits just right, and if a seam pops, I’ll mend it. I take pride in my work - if my client don’t look good, I don’t look good.”
There was a long pause, the silence only broken by Gene’s noisy chewing. Finally, Hank spoke.
“Ok, what do I have to do?”
“Atta boy!” The genie took Hank’s hand and shook it roughly, brimming with excitement. “Stick with Ol’ Gene and everything’ll come up aces, just you wait and see!” He stood and dramatically waved back to the living room. “Please, leave us retire to the bar, and I’ll mix you up a cocktail you’ll never forget…”
“Bar?” Hank raised a skeptical eyebrow but followed Gene. From the kitchen table everything seemed normal and living room shaped, but rounding the corner he saw that the entertainment center and bookcases had been replaced with a long wooden bartop, back wall now one long set of shelves filled with liquor bottles. Gene moved behind it, removing his cap and donning an apron, and he gestured for Hank to sit at the single barstool.
“Genies is a lot like people,” Gene explained. “We all got our own style. Some genies, dey gotta lantern, so dey work with fire. Some genies, dey gotta necklace, so dey work with gems.” Me, I gotta liquor bottle - so I work with booze.”
He pulled a cocktail shaker from beneath the bar and filled it with ice, then pulled down the golden bottle from the shelf. He uncorked it, then waved it under Hank’s nose. “Take a whiff a dat, my friend,” Gene said with a smile.
Hank had smelled all kinds of things in his life, as much as any other person he supposed. Nice smells and bad smells and weird smells and smells that were hard to explain. He had never smelled Power before. Raw, abstract, unfettered power - the smell of unshaped potentiality, the smell of infinity in a bottle. He breathed deep, trying to draw as much of it into his lungs as he could.
“Dis, my friend, is distilled magic, one hundred percent pure spirit.” Gene poured, a generous double shot of shining golden liquid that lit the inside of the shaker like a flashlight. He looked at his work, poured one more splash, then corked the bottle and grabbed another. He opened it, gave it an experimental sniff, and poured a smaller amount into the shaker, which made the light begin to ripple and swirl.
“What’s that?”
“Vermouth,” Gene replied. He grabbed a long spoon from beneath the bar and stirred the mixture vigorously, then put a strainer over the top and poured it into a frosted martini glass. The pale golden drink shimmered and danced in the glass, filling the room with sparkling light. Entranced, Hank reached for it, but Gene put a hand up. “Uh uh! Not quite done. Gotta get da garnish.” He pulled a golden apple up from beneath the bar, peeled off a slice of skin, and rubbed it along the glass’s rim before dropping it into the drink.
“There ya go, chum. One Djinn Martini, specialty of da house. Ooh - wait a sec!” He grabbed a shot glass and quickly poured himself a drink from the golden bottle. “One for the doctor,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.
Gene slid the martini across the bar to Hank, who picked it up and took a sniff. It smelled delicious; warm and inviting, full of promise, almost begging him to take a sip. The genie then raised his own drink in a toast. “Here’s mud in yer eye, kid.” They exchanged a look and Gene pounded his shot, slamming the glass on the bartop and shivering with delight.
Hank had a heartbeat of hesitation, a moment of fear - then he knocked back the drink, swallowing the whole thing in three long gulps. It went down smooth, and tasted even better than he had imagined.
He had just enough time to place the glass back down before he passed out.
Hank woke up in his bed, alarm ringing. He shook his head… then shook it again. Something was wrong. He felt funny. Dizzy. Drunk. His head felt like it was too heavy and his whole body tingled. He realized, slowly, that he was naked, beneath silk sheets that felt wonderful on his soft skin. He’d never felt anything so nice on his skin before.
He started to squirm beneath the sheets, half lost to the alien sensation, but the insistent ring of the alarm pulled him back. “Gotta go ta work,” he mumbled, half wondering why his voice sounded so strange.
Whatever. He reached for his phone, but it wasn’t on his nightstand. His nightstand? Whose bed was this? He rolled over, trying to make sense of the situation - and then he was staring at the sleeping face of Dakota Wright-Simmons.
The memory drifted back through the alcoholic haze. It had worked. This beauty, this queen, this goddess, was sharing a bed with him, her bare breasts tucked beneath an arm as she slept on her side. The sight sent a white hot jet of pure lust through his body, a supernova of desire like he’d never felt before. His nipples instantly hardened, his pussy grew hot and wet.
A warning started going off somewhere in his mind, fighting its way through the lust and the liquor. Something was wrong, something was very very wrong. He needed to get up right now, get out of this bed, run away, get help -
Then Dakota opened her eyes - those sapphire blue eyes he’d yearned for, dreamed about, masturbated to in his more desperate moments - and she looked at him. There was a moment of sleepy confusion, then she focused and those eyes filled with playful lust.
“Good morning pet,” she purred, reaching behind her and killing the alarm. She pulled back the sheets and scanned Hank’s body, a filthy smile on her face. “Look at you. You’ve been awake two minutes and you’re already rubbing your legs together, you’re so horny. My poor slutty little bunny. Ah well. I guess momma’s just gonna have to get you off. Can’t have you touching yourself at work - at least not until we convince Zack to let me stream it.”
She buried a hand in Hank’s long red hair and gently pulled, tilting his head back before pressing her lips to his. He moaned with lust, his whole body shuddering with ecstasy at her touch, then moaned again when her tongue pressed into his mouth. His mind reeled with pleasure - how could one kiss feel so good!?
He reached out, cupping one of her perfect tits, and the sound of her happy sigh at his touch was one of the greatest triumphs of his life. She wanted his touch. Dakota wanted him to touch her. Then she returned the favor, grabbing one of Hank’s heavy breasts. The sensation was electric; Dakota gently kneaded his tender breast flesh, rolling a nipple between finger and thumb, and he felt his pussy get even wetter.
Again, that internal warning pounded on the door of his mind. Someone was screaming at him to wake the fuck up, but they were far far away, drowned out by the sensation of the most beautiful woman on Earth sucking on his sensitive nipple as she moved a free hand down to his clit.
He pressed hard into that hand, body moving of its own accord. Every inch of his body was burning with pleasure and lust, reveling in sensation, lost in bliss. He felt fingers penetrate him and he gasped, begged for more.
“God, you’re so wet,” Dakota whispered in his ear. She put two fingers in his mouth, and he tasted his own juices, sweet and delicious. He shuddered, rubbing his thighs together and whimpering with desire. “You really are a horny little slut, aren’t you?”
“I am!” he cried. “I am a horny little slut!” He bucked his hips, wordlessly urging her to put her fingers back inside him, to eat him out, to do anything to this body.
“Who’s horny slut are you?”
“I’m your horny slut! I belong to you!” At that moment, he knew it was true. Hank belonged to Dakota, body and soul. She was his mistress, his queen, his goddess. If she told him to come, he’d have an orgasm on the spot; if she told him to die, his heart would refuse to beat.
“That’s right.” Dakota grabbed Hank by the hair, and stared into him with those flawless sapphire eyes, stared directly into his soul, branding him, marking him as her property forever. “You’re my perfect, horny, slutty little bunny - and my perfect, horny, slutty little bunny has earned her reward.”
She slid down his body, naked skin to naked skin, oh so slowly, every inch of movement a symphony of pleasure, then pulled his thighs apart and buried her face in his pussy. The moment her tongue started to work, Hank knew this was where he was supposed to be. He remembered, vaguely, that he’d had some sort of old life - a boring job, boring hobbies, boring friends - but none of that mattered now. His true purpose in life was to be here, lost in lust with his mistress, serving her, giving her orgasm after orgasm for eternity.
Everything else was meaningless.
With that thought, he came, came harder than he’d ever come in his life - a tsunami of perfect bliss that scoured away everything of Hank Hamilton that had existed before. Each cry of pleasure erased another chunk of his useless past, each buck of his feminine hips deleted a pointless skill, each squeeze of his own massive breasts removed a memory he wouldn’t need in his new life as a perfect slave.
All that remained was Dakota’s perfect Bunny, eager to serve her mistress forever. She lay there panting, mind empty, heart filled with joy, as her mistress rose up to cuddle with her. Mistress was so thoughtful to cuddle with her. They kissed again, Bunny’s sweet nectar still on Mistress’ lips. Bunny giggled at that, which made Mistress smile. “That’s my girl,” she said, stroking Bunny’s red hair. “Now put your collar on and go take a shower. You have a lot of men to service today, and you don’t want to be late.”
Bunny sighed. She didn’t want to get out of bed - she wanted to lay here all day and eat out Mistress - but that wouldn’t pay the bills. No, Mistress always knew best. Bunny would get cleaned up, then head out and go to work. Mistress was good at finding men who would pay to have sex with Bunny. Having sex with men wasn’t as nice as having sex with Mistress, but it was still really nice, and all that money meant that they could afford this apartment without Mistress having to work. So that was good.
With one last kiss, Bunny snapped on her slave collar and headed for the shower. She set a timer on her phone, in case she got distracted, and started to lather her long red hair. After a minute or two, she started to think about her Mistress, and soon she was leaning against the shower wall, one hand rubbing at her clit while the other pawed a fat tit.
“Hiya Chief!” Gene sauntered into the huge shower with a friendly wave, indifferent to the frantically masturbating woman in front of him. “So wadda ya think? Ya lady friend up ta snuff? Is she a tiger in da sack?”
Bunny looked up from her rubbing at the strange man who’d walked in. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t remember from where. Probably it was a man that had paid Mistress to have sex with Bunny. A lot of men liked having sex with Bunny, and paid Mistress over and over again to do it. Sometimes they liked to have sex in the shower. Not usually her shower, but if he was here, then he must have paid Mistress to be here.
That was so smart; Bunny could stay home and have sex with this man, and she wouldn’t have to waste gas! Mistress was so clever!
Giving Gene her most seductive smile, Bunny sauntered over to him, hips swaying, running a hand along her flawless naked body. “Hello handsome,” she cooed, moving her delicate fingers to his overall straps. “Why don’t we get you out of this and get started? I’ve been touching myself, I’m so wet for you…”
“Woah, hey!” Gene took a step back, taking a skeptical look at the situation. “Yeah, looks like I put a little too much mustard on this one.”
Bunny put a hand on her hip and nodded. “Sure baby, we can go slow. We can do whatever you want. I’m here to make your fantasies come true…”
“Ok, yeah, we gotta dial this one way back.” He pulled a flask from his hip pocket and offered it to Bunny. “Listen, Sugar Tits, I’m ready to plow you or whatever, but what say we start with a quick drink, huh?”
Bunny gave Gene a sexy wink and took the flask. “You don’t have to get me drunk to fuck me, handsome. But a little sip never hurt anyone.” She raised the flask to him. “Here’s mud in your eye.”
There was a moment of stillness as the Djinn went down Bunny’s throat.
Then Hank came back, and he screamed at the top of his lungs.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” He hurled the flask at Gene, which bounced off the genie’s overalls and clattered to the shower tile. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME!?”
“I granted yer wish! Dat Dakota chick is completely gaga fer ya! She’s ready ta get yer rocks off whenever ya want!”
“YOU TURNED ME INTO A NYMPHO SEX SLAVE HOOKER!” Hank stomped out of the shower, pointing at the full length mirror attached to the door. “Why the fuck am I a woman? I look like a character out of a goddamn hentai!”
Gene flipped open his notebook. “Alright, let’s take a look at what this Dakota lady wanted from a main squeeze. I took a poke around her mind once you was liquored up.” He started rattling off physical features like he was reading a grocery list.
“Sweet and adorable, innocent beauty, sparkling emerald eyes, wavy copper hair down to her butt, freckled cheeks, kissable lips, slender arms, huge tits - that one was underlined twice - tiny waist, wide hips, a quote ‘perfect little pussy’, something called a ‘badonkadonk,’ long dancers legs, dainty feet made for high heels.”
Hank stared at himself in the mirror, turning to examine his new body from all sides. Despite the shock, he had to admit Dakota had good taste - the girl he was looking at was unbelievably attractive, a mixture of hot and cute that would grab the attention of anyone remotely interested in the female form like an electromagnet. Truth be told, he was far hotter than Dakota now.
Hank realized he was turning himself on. He shook his head, trying to snap out of it, and changed the subject. “Jesus Christ, Dakota’s gay? She never gave a hint of being gay on her socials!”
Gene flipped a page. “Da term she used was ‘pansexual.’ I dunno what that means, but she said - well, she thought, but ya take my meaning - dat having a gal for a main squeeze would ‘drive engagement.’ Again, not a clue. Da main thing though, is dat she likes ta be da boss of da bedroom. Clearly, dat went way too far on da first pass - but like I said, we’ll keep making adjustments until you’re satisfied!”
“Satisfied? You turned me into a horny, submissive woman. I am in no way satisfied!” Hank stomped his foot adorably, outraged at the sheer insanity of it all. “I do not want to be a woman!”
“Hey now…” Gene waved his left hand for calm. “Ain’t nothing wrong with bein’ a woman. Womens is just as good as men. Don’t be a whatchacallit… a misogynist!”
“I know there’s nothing wrong with being a woman,” she said. “Gender’s just a construct. I’m completely comfortable like this. Hell, it’ll probably be a valuable learning experience. But being constantly horny and submissive is a fucking dealbreaker!” She glanced at herself in the mirror and shivered. “Christ, I’m half ready to lose my mind from panic and I still kinda wanna jill off!”
Gene shrugged. “Your lady friend wants a cute girl who likes to get bossed around, finishes hard and fast, and is always ready fer round two. A chick like that she’ll take ta bed morning, noon and night. I can adjust the levels, but pull any one of those traits and it’s no dice - she’s got other fish ta fry.”
“Well then let her fry em.” Hank crossed her arms beneath her breasts, resolute. “I’m out. Undo the wish and put me back to normal.”
Gene hissed. “Oof, I was afraid you was gonna say dat.” He recoiled slightly at Hank’s furious expression. “It can be undone!” he insisted. “Wouldn’t be any kind of justice if you got cursed by yer own wish! It’s just dat breaking a wish is basically the same as making a wish. It’s altering reality - and dat means paperwork and bureaucrats. So I can undo da wish, no problem! It’ll just take a lil while…”
Hank scowled, cute little nose wrinkling. “How long?”
Gene flinched preemptively. “Five weeks. Six tops.” He flinched harder when Hank shouted at him. “Listen, buddy, wadda ya got ta worry about? Once the paperwork goes through, it’ll be like none a’ dis ever happened! Everything’ll get rolled back - ya won’t even miss any work! Til then, ya get nonstop action with da girl of ya dreams!”
“So what if ya ain’t got a pistol in yer holster? She don’t seem ta mind, and if that performance in the bedroom was any indication, you got weeks of toe-curling orgasms ahead. Seems like the kinda thing a lady could get used to. Plus, we still got lotsa wiggle room to make adjustments in case ya decide ya do like it. Yer old pal Gene ain’t goin nowhere - I’m gonna see dis wish through, all da way down da line.”
“I’m gonna make it right, one way or the other. Dat’s the Union Genie promise. I’ll file da reversal paperwork, you go make kissy face wit Hot Lips. If things get too bent, you just pop da cork on my bottle, take a shot’a Djinn, and I’ll come runnin!” He offered Hank a meaty golden hand.
Hank eyed the hand skeptically. “Totally reversible? Free tweaks any time I need them?”
“Lady, dey’ll kick me outta da Union if I let ya down.”
Hank let out a deep sigh and shook his hand. “This is not how I expected to spend my October.”
“Best Halloween costume ya ever had.” With that, Gene went back to the shower and retrieved his flask. “Alright sister, you just go about yer business. Miss Dakota in there is gonna be a bossy boots, but I promise, she gets off on gettin’ you off - so just enjoy the ride. And remember, if you need anything, just pour ya’self a drink!”
And then Hank was naked and alone in a bathroom she didn’t recognize, tender nipples getting hard in the cold air. She went back to the shower to finish washing - she still had shampoo in her hair from before - but the water wasn’t flowing. Looking up, she saw the water droplets hanging in the air, frozen. The timer on her phone had stopped too - the masturbation alarm, she realized.
She went to close it out of embarrassment, but the act of touching put time back in motion. The water crashed onto her head and she shrieked in surprise.
“Hank? Sweetie, are you ok?” Dakota came into the bathroom, loose bathrobe over her naked body, and stuck her head into the shower. Hank tensed at her approach, but there was no overwhelming sense of submission like before. She did feel her pussy moisten at the sight of her hot naked girlfriend, though. She swallowed and made a show of scrubbing her hair. “Got some shampoo in my eye,” she improvised.
“Oh, my hunny bunny!” Dakota dropped her robe and joined Hank in the shower, pushing back the girl’s wet red hair and wiping her eyes. Hank flushed at the tenderness of her touch, arousal spiking despite very nearly becoming a sex slave a few moments ago.
Then Dakota glanced at the ticking stopwatch app and smirked. “Wow, Hank, really? Less than five minutes and you’re masturbating again?” She gripped Hank’s ass, pulling her close, water pouring between their slick naked bodies. Her lips brushed against Hank’s ears as she whispered, “I love how fucking horny you are… it’s so hot…”
The next thing Hank knew, she was squatting on the shower floor, fingering herself while she lapped at Dakota’s snatch. Dakota moaned and growled, rising up on her tippy-toes while she gripped a fistful of Hank’s red hair, calling her ‘my beautiful slut’ and praising her pussy-eating skills. The words of praise really revved Hank’s engine - she licked and slurped like a girl possessed, doing everything she could think of to earn more of those beautiful words.
She came twice before Dakota finally orgasmed, the woman smiling and panting as she pulled Hank off the floor. “Ok… Ok…” she gasped, “You really gotta get ready for work now. Go put on your makeup and get dressed. I put your uniform out on the bed.” Nodding, Hank stumbled out of the shower. Dakota slapped Hank on the ass as she went, and she blushed fiercely, feeling the fire starting to rise yet again. She shook it off and tried to focus.
Hank had no idea what to do with the table full of makeup arrayed in front of her, but her hands started moving as soon as she sat down, and in a few minutes she’d done up her whole face - foundation, brows, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, a bit of blush, some lip liner and a lip gloss called ‘dusty rose’. She marveled at the transformation, her already gorgeous face amplified into something that would make men walk into walls. The sight made her squirm a little in the chair, and she quickly got up to get dressed.
“Um, honey, where’d you say you put my uniform?” Hank picked up the g-string, one delicate eyebrow raised as she surveyed the ‘clothes’ spread out before her.
“On the bed, Hank!” Dakota shouted back from the bathroom.
“All of it?”
“Yeah - No! Your visor is on the hook with your coat and purse, and your platform heels are in the shoe cubby! Make sure your garter is straight sweetie, and put lots of glue on the pasties!”
“I GOT TWO LARGE BLACK COFFEES FOR BILL!” A middle aged man took the cup caddy from Hank’s manicured hands, thanked her huge tits and put a five dollar bill in the tip jar. Six more coffees appeared to replace that one, the haggard barista behind her struggling to make room on the counter.
Hank grabbed the next order and shouted it out, trying to be heard over the sea of leering men staring at her massive jiggling breasts. The endless line of men outside watched as well, many of them filming her for their socials. At one point a police cruiser rolled up to control the crowd. A few minutes later, she saw the officers had joined the line.
She was now the head barista and main attraction at Naked Pull Espresso, Salt Lake City’s only topless coffee shop - though that title was something of a misnomer. Though the other girls were all very pretty and certainly in very skimpy outfits - bikini tops, booty shorts and high heels - only Hank was dressed in the ‘official company uniform.’
Six inch clear platform heels led to black thigh high fishnets, held up by a lacy garter belt. A tiny, high cut g-string covered her crotch, company logo printed on the panel to draw the eye. She had a red pastie over each nipple - a coffee pot on the left, a coffee cup on the right. That was it.
Oh - she was wearing a visor, to keep her long red hair out of the way. Supple naked body or no, food safety was still important.
The morning dragged on and on, an endless tide of horny guys (and a decent number of horny women) paying fifteen dollars for six bucks worth of coffee, served by a woman out of a teenager’s wet dream. The attention was intense and unrelenting. Every eye of every person was laser focused on Hank every single second. By seven, the g-string was starting to ride up her butt. By eight, her feet were getting sore from the heels. By nine, her back ached from lack of boob support and she was going hoarse from talking over the mob.
“Alright folks, that’s last call for your lovely barista, Hank!” Zack jumped up on the countertop, shouting the crowd into silence. “She’s been busting her magnificent ass for four straight hours - let’s give it up! Don’t forget to tip her and all the other girls for their hard fucking work all morning!”
A raucous cheer rose up from the mob. “If you’ve already put an order in, it’ll be ready shortly. If you haven’t, you still can - you just have to talk to me! I don’t have the tits, but I’ve got the second best ass in the place!” That drew some laughs and a few whistles. Zack pointed to Hank one more time, drawing another round of applause, then waved her off to the back.
Thirty minutes later, Hank was sprawled out on the ratty sofa in the back office, wrapped in a robe, heels chucked in a corner. Dakota was sending her social media links, pictures and videos randos had posted of Hank from the morning’s shift. Each one came with a flirty little comment or remark about Hank’s beauty, and before long she was starting to rub her thighs together. Good god, did the woman ever stop?
A knock at the door made Hank jump. Zach leaned against the door frame, smiling, tip box under his arm. “How’s it goin’, Hank? Recovered from the morning mayhem?”
Hank sat staring at Zack, silent. Jesus Fucking Christ, the man was handsome - an absolute tower of rugged masculinity, with beautiful curly blonde hair and a jaw made of granite. His muscles strained against his white collared shirt, and she was sure she could see an enticing bulge in those blue jeans…
“Hank? Hank, you ok?”
She blinked, realizing he’d spoken to her. She gave him a tired smile. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little wiped out.”
“Yeah, Saturday crowds are always rough. We all appreciate the hard work you do - me, the girls, everybody.” Hank smiled at the compliment, a shiver of pleasure running across her skin. She really did like it when people praised her now - she’d have to be careful about that, but also she’d totally earned it. Slinging hot coffee basically naked was not for amateurs.
Zack moved to the desk and started loading the cash into the counting machine. “You catch the Jazz game last night?” The pair talked sports and video games while Zack did paperwork, and for a few minutes Hank nearly forgot she was lying there in lingerie, a flawless pair of huge naturals on her chest.
Except every time Zack made a joke, she’d laugh and glance over at him - then she’d remember exactly how much things had changed since yesterday. She wondered how different things were in Zack’s memory. He seemed completely unaffected about being the only man working in a topless coffee shop, discussing basketball and first person shooters with a centerfold.
Soon the counting was done and Zack showed Hank the credit card tips for the morning. Her eyes popped at the amount. “Yeah, pretty good for October,” he commented. “The weather’s been mild, that always boosts the crowd.” Then he handed her an envelope. “There’s your cut of the cash. What you report is between you, God and Uncle Sam. I gotta go help with clean up and get ready for lunch. Say hi to Dakota for me, and we’ll see you both Monday!” With that, he waved goodbye and headed to the kitchen.
As the man walked off, Hank realized Zack was right - he did have the second best ass in the place. She watched that juicy peach jiggle down the hall, a smile on her face. Then she realized she’d moved a hand to her g-string, finger making lazy circles on her clit through the cloth.
“Holy crap,” she muttered, sitting up and placing both hands firmly on the couch. “This is gonna be a long couple of weeks.”
“Greetings handsome adventurers! I am Seductra the Sorceress, your guide on this journey through the Temple of Delights Escape Room!” Hank waved her glittery staff, the LEDs in the bulbous head flaring up as the lights dimmed and sensuous music came from overhead.
The two dozen gathered couples did their best not to stare at her tits, barely covered by the purple slingshot bikini, with matching garter, stockings and platform heels. At least this costume had a knee length loincloth and high-collared cape, along with the prerequisite sexy witch’s hat and some pretty cool fingerless lace gloves - although Hank was certain the top of her ‘staff of power’ was made from a vibrator.
Hank answered questions for a while and helped the couples pick out complimentary characters, doing her best to act like Galadriel while looking like something Frank Frazetta would sell from under his table at a convention. Job done, she ducked into the back once the video started.
Emma and Rose were sitting at the break table, the little girl deep in concentration as she colored in her Dotty Dinosaur MD book. Emma looked up from her phone and wolf whistled. “Goddamn girl. I will never get used to that getup. Don’t you get cold?”
Hank shrugged. “It’s practically a parka compared to my uniform at the coffee shop. Besides, my boobs are like two meaty heatsinks. Toss ‘em in the oven at 325 for an hour before my shift and I’m toasty warm all day!”
Rose looked up, intrigued. “Really?”
“No dear, Auntie Hank is joking.”
“Oh.” She added a few more scribbles to a stegosaurus, then added, “Can I wear your big hat?”
Hank plopped the hat on Rose’s head, which immediately sank to the girl’s shoulders. She giggled, adjusting it to see before continuing her work. Hank grabbed a diet Coke from the mini fridge and sat down.
“So how’re things going, Hank? How was your shift at that meat market you call a coffee shop?”
Hank shrugged. “They stare at me here, they stare at me there. The difference is I made three hundred dollars in tips there. I can put up with a lot more stares for that kind of money.”
“Well shit.” Emma nodded in agreement. “I could use that kind of money. Maybe I should look into being the most beautiful woman in Salt Lake City. What are you doing hanging around this dump if you’re making all that kind of cash at Naked Pull?”
The compliment made Hank blush and she looked away. “It’s a mixed bag, I promise you,” she countered. “I busted my ass making that 300 bucks this morning, and spilling hot coffee on bare skin is no fun at all. Here, I get to actually use that theater degree I spent so much money on. I’m no Ian McKellan, but I’d like to think I’ve come to inhabit the role of Seductra the Sorceress.”
“I like your pretty cape and magic wand.” Rose helpfully added.
“They do add a touch of class,” Hank agreed. “I’m glad something does,” he added quietly.
Rose stared at her for a long second, head tilted, hat threatening to slide over her eyes. “Why is your name Hank? That’s a boy’s name.”
Hank froze. She hadn’t even considered it. Why was her name still Hank? Everything else in her life had changed. She had a new girlfriend, a new apartment, a new sex. Both of her jobs had gotten boobed-up, and she could only assume she’d be doing some hot tub ASMR crap when she streamed tonight. So why in the hell was she still -
“Sweetie, Auntie Hank’s real name is Henrietta. But that’s a grandma’s name, so everyone just calls her Hank. It’s very cute…” Emma looked up, right into Hank’s eyes. “Just like she is.”
Hank blushed again, swallowed hard, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Oh.” Rose nodded and went back to coloring.
Apparently oblivious to Hank’s rising heat, Emma stood to take her turn with the players. It was only then that Hank took in her costume. Yesterday, she was Queen Mysteria, a cute black woman in a pink dress and a plastic crown. Today she was Queen Alura, a gorgeous black woman in a chainmail crop top and miniskirt. Her pert breasts sat high and lovely on her chest, her midriff was flat as a board, and the metal links of her skirt strained against her fantastic ass. And she was tall, at least a half foot taller than Hank - all of it long, toned legs.
On some level, Hank had always known Emma was pretty. She wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t blind. But Hank had never been the kind of guy to crush on an unattainable woman - discounting Dakota. Emma was a lesbian, so she was off-limits, same as somebody’s wife or girlfriend.
Well, Hank wasn’t any kind of guy anymore, and her moistening pussy helpfully pointed out Emma wasn’t anybody’s wife or girlfriend. She was entirely on-limits, and she had called Hank attractive twice in the last five minutes.
“Ok, time to go slay some goblins.” Emma grabbed her plastic spear and shield, then kissed Rose on the head. “Be good for Auntie, I’ll be back in a few minutes!” She turned to the door, took a moment to get into character and stepped out - giving Hank an extended look at her armored booty.
“Long couple of weeks…” she muttered.
“Dakota, I’m home!” Hank kicked off her heels, glad to be done with the damn things for a while, and hung her coat on the hook. She stood in the hallway a moment stretching, wiggling her stockinged toes, slingshot bikini taped to her nipples, and realized she’d spent the whole day with her tits more or less hanging out.
She realized she’d spent the whole day with tits. She’d spent the whole day with flawless beautiful tits that were big as cantaloupes . She'd spent the whole day as a horny, submissive praise-hungry nymphomaniac who got ogled professionally. The first day of the first week of five weeks of this life - six weeks tops.
“What the fuck have I done to myself?” she asked the universe at large.
“What’d you say, babe?” Dakota shouted from the next room. Hank’s head flopped down, bouncing into the top of her cleavage. “Nothing sweetie. Just going crazy,” she mumbled.
“Can you come give me a hand, hunny bunny? I’m all oiled up and can’t work the keyboard.” The request instantly pulled Hank out of her existential pondering. She moved with purpose to the bedroom - then stopped dead in the doorway.
Dakota lay naked on the bed, atop a blue tarp. Her body was glistening with oil, legs spread wide and back arched as she slowly pumped a thick dildo into her pussy. A fancy webcam hung from an arm bolted to the desk, LED spotlight and microphone clipped to it, MacBook pointed back to face the writhing woman.
“Baby,” she huffed, giving the dildo another pump. “Can you check the laptop and see how the recording looks? I angled the screen wrong.” She pumped twice more and gave a little moan. “Check the microphone levels too. I swear, I spend more time setting this shit up…”
Hank didn’t move, didn’t speak. She just stood there, eyes wide as saucers, breathing fast, twitching slightly… hornier than she’d ever been in her entire life. Every neuron was completely overloaded with desire.
“How does it look? Is the white balance ok?”
“Buh… Buh…”
Dakota opened her eyes, looking at Hank upside down from the bed. “Hank? Sweetie?”
“I… I…” Hank’s right hand slowly drifted toward her panties.
“Holy shit!” Dakota flipped over and scrambled off the tarp. She grabbed a towel off the floor, wiping her hands as she walked to Hank. “Oh hunny bunny!” Laughing, she put a gentle hand to Hank’s face, making her shudder with lust. “My poor horny girl! Your breakers are all tripped! You must be dripping wet…”
The spell finally broken, Hank lunged to kiss her, hungry to fuck, but Dakota pushed her back. “Your costume sweetie! We can’t get oil all over it!” Hank groaned in wordless frustration, ready to tear the stupid fucking costume to shreds.
“Into the chair!” Dakota commanded, pointing imperiously towards the computer desk. “NOW!” The order overrode the lust in Hank’s brain and she darted to obey. She stared at Dakota with desperate eyes, vibrating with desire, and the woman shook her head.
“Don’t you worry, hunny bunny. Momma’s gonna fix everything.” She gave Hank her dirtiest smile and dropped to all fours. “Lose the bikini - carefully.” Hank did as commanded, gently peeling it off. Good thing too - she’d forgotten just how many places she’d had to tape it down.
Then she was just in her garter and stockings… and Dakota was smiling up at her from the floor. She gave Hank’s slit a few gentle licks, making a deeply satisfied mmm. “You have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” she declared, “and the wettest. It’s perfect.” Hank groaned at the compliment, then gasped when Dakota buried her face in Hank’s crotch.
Dakota licked and sucked, rubbed at Hank’s clit, pumped fingers into her snatch, stroked her g-spot. Hank writhed in the chair, lost in paroxysms of pleasure. She came in seconds, then came again a minute later, moaning loud enough to wake the dead. Five more minutes and Hank came a third time, her legs turning to jello. She slid to the floor, panting and exhausted.
“All better, hunny bunny?”
Hank beamed at Dakota, chest heaving. “All better. Great way to end the work day.” She jerked her head towards the camera setup. “What’s all this about though?”
Dakota gave her a baffled look. “Sweetie, it’s Saturday. We’ve got the camshow at eleven, right after your stream. Speaking of which, now that you’ve rebooted, you need to get that magnificent ass in gear. Wash up, grab some food, and put on your gaming bikini. Those dorks need their BustyBeaver!”
If you’d have told Hank yesterday she’d be streaming Hideaway Ranch in a string bikini, she would have had a lot of questions. A lot of questions. Hank would have needed a few minutes to prepare a detailed list of questions, to determine exactly what series of events had brought her to this position.
Given all that she’d gone through in the last 24 hours, though, this was nothing. Her streaming outfit was cute, harmless - it wasn’t even a thong. It had an adorable sunflower pattern on the cups, and her buttcrack was blessedly unflossed as she harvested turnips and milked cows.
The only problem was keeping up with the chat. Hank’s old crowd was one or two hundred people - a leisurely chat with two mods. Hank would shout out new follows, comment on funny jokes, and pause the game to thank any donations that rolled in.
Now there were six thousand people watching her play, an endless wall of thirst trap comments and watermelon emojis racing past. Bits and Subs poured in, donations fell like rain - an army of fans falling all over themselves to tell Hank they loved her. The attention and praise made her squirm, and she worried she might soak through her bikini bottom.
On the other hand, there was an equally large army of chuds demanding Hank take her top off… or worse. Two dozen moderators, most of whom Hank didn’t recognize, fought a desperate battle against the filth, deleting comments and banning creeps the automods didn’t catch. Hank saw some of that sewage on her second monitor as she wooed the milkmaid - and suddenly she wasn’t so horny any more.
“We’ve got a ten dollar donation from RetroWave - ‘Glad I could catch your stream tonight, BB.’ Thanks, Retro - and Woah! Another fifty dollar donation from BillyBeer! ‘Thanks again for all the entertainment BB.’ Well thank you Billy! I’m glad you’re having fun!”
Half way through the stream, Dakota appeared in her jammies with a plate of snacks. The chat exploded with GIRLFRIEND!!! emojis, along with a barrage of 69 Bit tips. “Hi hunny bunny!” she chirped, dropping into Hank’s lap and kissing her on the cheek. She turned to the camera and waved. “Hi everyone!”
Giggling, Hank paused the game and took a bite of taquito. “Hi sweetie. How’s it going?” She tapped on the keyboard, putting Dakota’s socials on-screen. “Everybody remember to follow my lovely girl on all the things and maybe she’ll bring you some taquitos too!” Dakota smiled at the kindness, then leaned into the camera. “No promises, you horny weirdoes.”
They chatted a moment longer, then Dakota stood up. “Ok, I gotta go. Bye everyone!” She leaned in for another peck, but paused to whisper in Hank’s ear.
“In an hour, I’m gonna have you strapped to the bed, naked and spread-eagled, pounding your whore snatch with a big black dildo, while a hundred strangers pay to watch and masturbate.”
Hank froze up, eyes going wide and pussy starting to drool. Dakota smooched her cheek once more and waved a last goodbye to the audience. “Have fun with your Nintendo games kids!”
“What’s the point of these slutty outfits if we’re just gonna oil up and fuck?” Hank tugged on her top, vainly trying to cover her exposed underboob. “Do I own any clothes I don’t have to tape to my tits?” she muttered as the lycra snapped back into place.
“So, while I love the enthusiasm for ‘oiling up and fucking,’ we’re not gonna keep the audience’s attention if we jump directly to the climax - no pun intended.” Dakota, dressed in her skimpiest schoolgirl uniform, sat at the makeup table working on her contouring.
“If the boys want a show, they gotta pay for it. Every touch, every kiss, every piece of clothes we take off - it’s all gonna cost tokens to make it happen. Otherwise, we just sit there and chat.” She dabbed at her lipstick, then stood and joined Hank on the bed. “No matter how horny we get.”
She leaned in, putting a hand on Hank’s thigh. “No matter how much we want to tear each other’s clothes off and sixty-nine in front of the camera. No matter how much we want strangers to see our faces smeared with pussy juices, panting and spent from a dozen orgasms… we’ll just have to be strong.”
Hank scowled at Dakota… or tried to anyway. “Do you get off on pushing my buttons?”
“So. Fucking. Hard,” she proudly admitted. “If you’re not constantly tempted to rub one out, I’m not doing my job.” She shook her hair out one last time and reached for the MacBook. “Ok hunny bunny, think slutty thoughts - it’s showtime.”
For the next two hours, the girls teased and flirted with a small crowd of anonymous horny strangers. A menu of different acts were offered up in exchange for their tokens, from tiny things like reading viewer's names on screen, to kissing and touching, removing their clothes, all the way up to full-on sex acts.
Hank wasn't sure she'd be able to do this when they started, but she quickly fell into a horny variant of her game streaming patter - and Dakota was already an attention whore. Becoming a camwhore wasn't much of a leap. They had a real chemistry on screen, beyond mere lust… but also they were both burning with lust within minutes, and struggled not to just jump into bed, tokens be damned.
Luckily the crowd was as eager to see them fuck as they were. They bought the girls’ tops off in the first five minutes, and had them naked five minutes later. Tits were touched, asses were spanked. They made out until their lips were tired. A particularly generous / horny viewer dropped two thousand tokens in one go, and then Hank was on her knees, lapping away at Dakota’s pussy while she moaned in her chair.
Then, a bit past 12:30, Hank found herself bound to the bed, wrists and ankles cuffed, ropes pulled taut. Her mind was racing, swirling with conflicting emotions. She was excited, afraid, confused and aroused, all at once. Yesterday, Hank had been daydreaming about taking Dakota Wright-Simmons on a date. Tonight, Dakota Wright-Simmons was about to fuck Hank stupid with a dildo, live on the internet. How the fuck had she wound up here?!
Dakota stood in front of the camera, talking dirty to the audience and making a meal of rubbing lube into the big silicone cock, spreading any runoff onto her tits. Job done, she moved to the bed, resting the dildo between Hank’s boobs. It was soft and damp against her skin, and she uselessly tried to rub her thighs together, pussy eagerly anticipating its girth even as her mind had some serious concerns.
Moving to the foot of the bed, Dakota made a big show of crawling beside Hank, sitting between her legs and staring down with a look of pure lust that made the bound woman shiver and sigh. She stretched across Hank’s body, grabbing a fistful of her hair and kissing her deep, the dildo pressed between them as their tongues swirled. “You ready, my pet?” she asked, the devil in her eyes.
“Just… take it slow, ok?” Hank asked.
“Oh, we’re way past ‘take it slow,’ slut. It’s time to get fucking plowed.” She nuzzled Hank’s neck, sucking and nipping. “Just talk dirty and make a lot of moans,” she mumbled between hickeys. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Not gonna break that sweet pussy for these perverts.”
Then it was gone from between her breasts, and rubbing against her mound. Dakota made slow motions, up and down, teasing her clit, spreading the lube around. She pulled the dildo away, drizzled more lube on the head, worked it onto the shaft, making sure Hank saw just how long and thick it was, then teased her mound again. Hank groaned, bucked her hips against the toy. “Fuuuuuckk… Give it to me, please… I need that fat cock…” She played it up for the camera, tried to give Dakota crazy fuck eyes like she’d seen in porn - but it didn’t take a lot of acting. Dakota had wanted her girlfriend horny and submissive, and right now, tied up and teased by this crazy nympho… well, Hank was pretty goddamn horny and submissive.
Dakota played with her for a few more moments, drawing out the groans and whimpers, then gave her dirtiest smile and gently pressed. For the first time in her life, Hank Hamilton was penetrated… and it felt wonderful. Something deep and primal unlocked in her. Something inside her changed. She let out a mmmmm of elemental satisfaction, closing her eyes and smiling, and pressed herself against the toy, savoring the sensation of it entering deeper.
“You like that, slut?” Dakota leaned forward, pushing the dildo in another inch, and Hank’s eyes fluttered open. She nodded her approval. “More,” she whispered.
With that, the dildo began to pump in and out, each stroke drawing a breathy little gasp out of Hank. Her hips rocked in time to the motion, body flooding with pleasure as the minutes passed. She stared at Dakota, smiling back at her as she worked the toy, her hunny bunny lost to bliss. Eventually the woman shifted positions, moving to the side so she could suck on one of Hank's nipples, free hand at her own pussy, and it felt like Hank had gone to paradise.
Hank forgot the camera and the audience, the magic and the madness, the life she used to have. Right now there was only pleasure, only joy, only the woman of her dreams sharing this moment with her. Somehow it had all worked out, and she couldn’t imagine any place she’d rather be. With that thought ringing in her mind, Hank came hard, crying out and thrashing against the restraints. Dakota lay down beside her, nibbling at her ear. “Good girl,” she murmured.
Hank didn’t remember much after that. The show had wrapped up, they’d showered, but it was all a post-orgasmic blur. She slept like a log, body exhausted from a day either walking in high heels or on her back. When she finally awoke, it was nearly noon. Dakota was sitting at the computer desk, sipping at her coffee mug, staring in irritation at something on her MacBook.
Her foul mood lightened when she saw Hank’s sleepy smile. “Morning, sweetie. You were a very tired hunny bunny!”
“Yesterday was a very strange day.” Hank yawned and stretched, then made a sour face and went to the bathroom to brush. “Whatcha doin?”
“Trying to update our SmutHub page. I swear to God, I spend most of my time just re-editing and re-encoding the same damn clips over and over…”
Hank stuck her head out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry - updating our what?”
“Our SmutHub page, sweetie.” She rubbed her eyes and took another sip of coffee. “And our X-llama page. And our PinkTube page. And our HotGifs page. And our MainlyFans page. Christ, I should have gotten a CS degree, learned how to automate this shit.”
Spitting out the toothpaste, Hank moved around the desk to look. Dakota had a browser full of tabs open to porn sites - the ones she’d mentioned and more. SmutHub was the one on top, showing the creator page of SLC_Lezzys. The logo at the top showed Hank and Dakota inside a cartoon heart, topless and making out.
There were dozens of videos of Hank and Dakota having sex, apparently going back for months. Some were edited clips from camshows, while others seemed like more traditional amateur porn, along with POV footage of one girl shot by the other, and a bunch of ASMR stuff from Dakota. Each video had detailed viewership metrics and monetization.
None of the numbers seemed terribly impressive. While they were certainly much more popular than Hank’s old YouTube videos, those were edited clips of some guy’s D-Pad streams, not two gorgeous lesbians going to town on each other. On the other hand, there were like fifteen different tabs open…
“How much money did all this bring in?” Hank tried to keep her voice neutral as she asked.
“Almost three thousand dollars last month,” Dakota replied, dripping with pride. “And that’s not even counting the two hundred from the show last night!” She took Hank’s hand, looking up at her with eyes full of excitement. “It’s really starting to take off, babe! A few more months of work, a few lucky breaks, and we could be really big!”
Hank paused. Between the coffee shop, the escape room and the stream, she’d made almost a thousand dollars yesterday. A part of her wanted to add “and I didn’t have to fuck on camera to earn it,” but that wasn’t fair - nobody came to Naked Pull for the cappucino, or watched BustyBeaver for top flight farming sim action.
And frankly, she’d really enjoyed last night. Let she without orgasms cast the first stone.
But still, it was a lot of work for almost three thousand dollars. Did Dakota have a real job? She’d certainly spent hours at the coffee shop each week working on her socials. Maybe Zack was right - maybe she’d just been living on daddy’s money before. It seemed like something Hank should know as her long term live-in girlfriend. Just casually asking about it now would probably not end well.
She put a hand to Dakota’s cheek and smiled. “Good job, sweetie. Keep it up.”
“Actually, now that you’re up, I think it’s time for a shower.” She ran a hand up Hank’s thigh and gave her a wink. “Care to join me?”
A nice hot shower washed away a lot of Hank’s worries. A beautiful blonde lapping at her snatch like the antidote was inside took care of the rest. Shuddering on the tile in ecstasy, Hank figured she wouldn’t have met Dakota in the first place if not for her influencer ambitions - it would be hypocritical to complain about them now. Matter settled, she squeezed her own tits and came hard, then pushed Dakota onto her back to return the favor.
“How come you get to wear yoga pants and sneakers?” Hank tried to ignore the stares as they made their way through the grocery store. “Why am I in a microdress and heels? We’re like two weeks from Halloween - I’m freezing my ass off!”
“Oh don’t be so dramatic. That’s a minidress at worst, and you’re in two inch heels - they might as well be flip-flops.” Dakota held up two dressing bottles to Hank. “Green goddess or raspberry vinaigrette?”
“Raspberry. I’m serious, Dakota - I don’t want to spend all my time dressed for the club. I don’t want to be ogled everywhere I go. That poor produce boy fell right into the Pop-Tart display when we walked past.”
“But you look so good! You’re the most beautiful woman in the city - in the state! - and you’re my girl. I want everyone to see it.” Dakota wrapped her arm around Hank’s waist, giving her a peck on the cheek. “I’d parade you around in a g-string and a dog collar if I could,” she added in a whisper.
Hank smiled at the kiss, and blushed at the whisper, but shook off her honeyed words. “Pants, sweetie. When we get home, I’m switching to pants. No arguments.”
Dakota gave a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. “Fiiiiine, I guess. I’m sure we’ve got some skin-tight blue jeans somewhere in the back of the closet. The heels stay though.” Hank gave her an exasperated look and she put her hands up. “You gotta give me something! I’m meeting you half way!”
“AUNTIE HANK!” Both women turned as Rose charged down the aisle, arms outstretched. Hank’s face lit up, and she squatted down to scoop up the girl, twirling her around to a squeal of delight. Emma came hustling up behind her with the cart, shaking her head and smiling. She looked Hank up and down, one eyebrow raised. “Damn girl, that’s a hell of an outfit. You dress like that all the time?”
“If you looked like that, wouldn’t you?” Dakota countered. Emma considered the question, unsure.
“I’m underdressed for the weather,” Hank admitted, “as I was just telling my girlfriend.”
“Oh, you’re Dakota!” Emma offered a hand. “I’m Emma Whitaker. Hank and I work together at the escape room.”
“I figured,” she replied with a smile. “Not a lot of adorable ragamuffins coming running up to Hank for hugs.” Dakota turned to the girl in Hank’s arms. “Hello Rose, I’m Dakota! Hank has told me so much about you! She likes you a lot!”
“I like your purse,” Rose replied. “It matches your shoes.”
Dakota nodded to Hank. “Ok, she’s cool. She can hang.”
They small-talked for a minute, but Emma had a lot to do before the escape room tonight. With a final hug from Rose, they said their goodbyes and headed off.
“Cute kid,” Dakota commented.
“Rose is so sweet,” Hank agreed. “She always makes my day.” She went back to shopping, energized from seeing the girl… then stopped when she saw Dakota’s smirk.
“What’s the shit eating grin for?”
“You want a baby.”
The orange dropped from Hank’s hand, rolling away into the aisle. “WHAT!?”
“Oh yeah, absolutely baby crazy. Ovaries on overdrive. Mommy madness.” Dakota’s smirk turned into a grin as she watched Hank’s eyes go wide. “Hunny Bunny wants to make a nest and have some bunnies of her own. A beautiful little baby to cuddle and kiss.”
“Not funny, Dakota,” Hank growled.
“Who’s laughing?” Dakota pressed herself against Hank, ignoring the woman’s scowl. “God, can you imagine? My hunny bunny, pregnant? Big round belly, getting larger every day? Huge tender breasts, filled with sweet milk? And of course, we’d have to find a father to make you a mother. Some strong, nurturing man, ready to fill you up with his seed…”
Images rose, unbidden, into Hank’s mind. She shut her eyes, trying to force them out - but that just made it worse. She imagined getting impregnated, bred, getting a baby fucked into her. She imagined her swelling belly, her lactating breasts. She imagined a hospital room, labor pains, holding a tiny new life in her arms. She imagined introducing Rose to her little brother, Emma to her son.
Oh fuck.
Hank shoved Dakota away, hard. “STOP IT!” she shouted, heads turning at the outburst. Dakota staggered back, shocked, and the two stared at each other. She reached for Hank, confused, but Hank recoiled from her touch and ran from the store.
Making a beeline for the car, Hank slumped into the driver’s seat and locked the doors. She tried to calm down, tried to think clearly. Thinking clearly was so hard; every time she tried to get a grip or dial things back, Dakota would start talking dirty and grab her ass - and then Hank was just putty in her hands. She’d been with the woman for two days, and she was already fantasizing about getting bred. And what the fuck was Emma doing in that fantasy? How could she possibly -
Dakota tapped on the passenger window, very gently. She didn’t speak, she just stood there and waited, quiet pleading in her eyes. After a long moment, Hank hit the unlock button and Dakota climbed inside. She sat, eyes downcast, pointedly keeping her hands in her lap.
“I’m sorry I was teasing you, Hank. I didn’t mean anything by it, but you told me to stop and I didn’t. That was shitty. I was being a bad girlfriend.”
“...Yes. Yes you were. Sometimes you think because I… like it when you touch me, it gives you permission to ignore my feelings. Well, it fucking doesn’t. I’m horny, not stupid, and you can only push me so far.”
The woman flinched at the scolding. “I’m sorry Hank. You’re right. This will never happen again. I can be a fuckup sometimes, but I don’t make the same mistake twice.” She put a hand out on the arm rest. “You’re my everything Hank. You’re my hunny bunny. I love you.”
Hank sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Go finish buying the groceries. Then I’ll take your hand and give you a smooch.” Dakota nodded at that and got out. “Deal. I’ll text you if I have any questions.”
The next half hour was peaceful, and Hank was able to pull herself together. Dakota sent a few messages, asking about bread and peanut butter and tampons. Hank hadn’t even considered that - she said she had plenty, then hit google for a crash course on the menstrual cycle. She was watching an informational video for 5th graders when Dakota popped the hatchback. She joined her to unload the cart, giving the woman a peck on the cheek as she approached.
Dakota’s smile went a long way towards softening Hank’s heart. “Thank you hunny bunny,” she murmured as they started shifting bags.
It’s difficult to imagine getting used to being a horny submissive bombshell lesbian, but the human mind is a wonder of adaptation, and before Hank knew it a week had gone by. Sunday had been make-up sex, a shift at the escape room, and bedtime sex, Dakota very deliberately putting out comfy cotton jammies for afterwards. Then it was Monday - a quickie in the shower, a piece of toast, glue on her pasties and Hank was back on the clock.
Naked Pull was a constant zoo all week, but not the soul-crushing mob of Saturday. Customers came and went each morning, thanking Hank’s breasts and leaving big tips, then she and Zack would sneak a quick vape some time after ten. She tried hard to focus on their chit-chat, and not on his broad chest and bulging biceps. At least the vape masked the alluring smell of his sweat.
Dakota rolled in after the morning rush, giving Hank a quick kiss before starting the day’s influencing. Working the socials was her full time job, which was a little disheartening from a financial perspective, but she plugged away with genuine effort for hours, only looking up to smile at Hank from time to time.
She’d also set up camp in a far corner of the cafe, at a table where no one could look over her shoulder - which probably meant she was working on all the porn sites. Certainly, some of the looks she gave Hank said she was doing something naughty. Hank didn’t like people looking at porn in public… but she did like those naughty looks, so she let it slide. It was nice having Dakota there; it didn’t feel so much like work with her girlfriend at her side.
Hank’s nights were busy too. Apparently “hot chicks in lingerie” had been the secret ingredient the escape room had been missing, because Hank and Emma were running the Temple of Delights four times a night, five nights a week - booked out a month in advance.
The pair spent most evenings together, leading clueless groups through sexy puzzles. They’d been friends before, but Hank soon treasured their time together in the break room. Emma was down to Earth, smart and funny. Hank could relax around her; there was no chance of getting touched and teased into pounding herself with a dildo while Dakota filmed.
Not that Hank minded getting touched and teased into pounding herself with a dildo while Dakota filmed. Hank liked getting touched and teased into pounding herself with a dildo while Dakota filmed. It was hot as hell, the orgasms were amazing, and the videos were pulling down real numbers - which made Dakota so happy that Hank was getting excited too.
It was just… sometimes you just want to kick back and watch a Jazz game, comfortable in the knowledge that you wouldn’t be touched and teased into pounding yourself with a dildo.
Plus there was Rose. Hank adored Rose. While she wished Emma didn’t have to fight and scrape for money, didn’t have to rely on her sister’s charity and keep her daughter up late in the dingy backroom of a converted office, Hank was glad that she got to spend so much time with Rose. The two played dinosaur doctor, read books, and watched Sesame Street clips on Hank’s phone.
Friday night, after a particularly dim gaggle of bachelorettes stumbled their way through the last challenge, Emma returned to the break room to find Rose asleep in Hank’s arms, the pair snuggled on the comfy chair. Hank looked up from her phone, smiling at the situation, but paused when she saw Emma’s expression.
Emma wanted Hank. No surprise there; everyone wanted Hank, and there was definitely sexual tension between them, though they were trying to be cool about it. This was different though; Emma wanted Hank for Rose - the perfect dream stepmom who’d love the girl like she was her own. Getting a smart, thoughtful, funny, caring supermodel wife out of the deal wouldn’t hurt either.
All Emma had to do was peel Hank away from Dakota.
Oh fuck.
Dakota was in the middle of editing gifs, trying to find the perfect ten seconds of her eating pussy, when Hank came in the bedroom, still wearing her sorceress costume. She hugged Dakota tight, breasts half smothering her, then dropped to the floor and rested her head in the woman’s lap.
“Tough night fighting goblins, hunny bunny?”
“Being a girl is complicated,” Hank complained. “Guys have it easy.”
“Now hold on,” she suggested, stroking Hank’s hair. “Men have problems too.”
“Like what?”
Dakota considered. “Unrealistic male beauty standards. The social taboo of expressing emotional vulnerability. Gettin’ kicked in the nards.”
Hank snickered at that, rising up and giving her a kiss. “That hurts like a motherfucker.”
Dakota blinked, perplexed. “How would you know?” Hank coughed awkwardly and Dakota laughed. “What’s wrong, sweetie? What can mama do to help?”
“Sigh. Things are tough with Emma. I don’t know what to do.”
“Poor Emma,” Dakota agreed. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through. My dad kicked me out when I started seeing you - but to turn your back on a grandchild? Fucking animals…”
Hank was stunned at the revelation. Dakota’s dad had thrown her out? Was that her doing? It must have been. God, what a mess.
Why had she blurted out the first thoughtless wish that had come to mind!? She could think of a dozen better wishes - a hundred! Things that wouldn’t have hurt her beautiful girl! But Dakota wouldn’t be her beautiful girl if she hadn’t made that wish!
Her runaway train of thought was interrupted by Dakota squeezing her hard, pressing Hank’s head to her chest. “Shh, shh. Don’t cry, hunny bunny. We’ll help Emma and Rose, I promise. In fact, I’ve already got an idea.”
She pointed to the MacBook, oral sex still looping in the video editor. Hank gave Dakota a deeply confused look. “No - I mean, what if we hire her to help handle the videos? Editing and uploading and stuff? You said she’s taking computer classes at the junior college; if I can do it, she can definitely do it.”
“You want her to manage our porn?” Hank wasn’t sure what to say. When she’d said ‘things are tough with Emma,’ she hadn’t meant financially - but things were tough for Emma financially. She could use some quick cash. But having her watch Hank and Dakota fuck would definitely not help the actual tension bubbling between the three of them.
Dakota shrugged. “We don’t make cooking videos, hunny bunny. Our SmutHub page is not a secret, and if you think Emma hasn’t at least peeked at it, you’re crazy. We’re all adults, and we can handle this like adults. She can do the work from home, in her free time - plus she could come here once or twice a week. Emma and I could collaborate while you keep Rose busy in the other room.”
Hank weighed the idea. It might work. Emma could definitely use the money, and maybe Dakota and Emma would bond... Bond over watching videos of Hank and Dakota getting each other off, again and again, for hours at a time.
It definitely might possibly work. Maybe.
“I suppose it’s worth asking her…” Hank concluded weakly.
“Perfect.” Dakota gave her another peck and stood her up. “I’ll send her a text right now. Why don’t you go peel off that costume and take a shower? I think we should go grab a bite, then come home and get naked.” She ran a finger up Hank’s thigh, past her belly button and across an erect nipple. “I bought us a little present at The Naked Goddess this afternoon that I’m dying to try out.”
Hank glanced at the bed, where a box the size of a game console sat wrapped in sparkly pink paper, a bottle of Astroglide resting beside it. Hank turned back to Dakota, eyebrow raised.
“Ok, a medium to large present.”
Dinner was Indian food, the girls dressing up and making it a proper date. They ordered drinks and appetizers, chatted, gossiped and generally enjoyed themselves. Dakota got a chana masala, while Hank ordered a too-hot lamb vindaloo, Dakota alternating between giggling and consoling as sweat poured down Hank’s cleavage.
Dessert was a double-ended dildo, fifteen inches of purple silicone in an ornate box, suitable to display on a bookcase or mantle. Dakota presented it to Hank with great ceremony, like it was the clan’s samurai sword. She took it, eyes wide, and moved her hand slowly up its length, her pussy already starting to drool. “Dear god..” she breathed.
“Yeah, my hunny bunny likes a good deep dicking,” Dakota purred. “So do I, actually. Now we can both get fucked by a fat cock at the same time…” She pushed Hank flat on the bed, grabbing a breast with one hand while caressing her face with the other. They kissed long and deep, Hank already beginning to squirm under Dakota’s touch.
Soon there were fingers inside of Hank, and she pressed against them, hips rocking. They pumped within her a moment, tickling her g-spot, and then Dakota brought them up to show, glistening and sticky. She stuck them in Hank’s mouth and the woman moaned, sucking them clean. “Good girl,” Dakota whispered.
Dakota took the dildo and slid down the bed, resting between Hank’s spread legs. She spent a moment licking Hank’s folds, kissing her clit, spreading around her juices. Then she shook up the astroglide and started to spread it along the dildo. This took longer than she’d anticipated - there was a lot of dildo to lubricate. Dakota made apologetic eyes as she stroked the silicone cock, and Hank laughed, moving a hand to her own clit as she watched Dakota struggle.
Job finally done, she pressed the dildo to Hank’s pussy. Hank sighed contentedly as it entered, the filling sensation immensely satisfying. Dakota worked it slowly at first, making sure everything moved smoothly, then pumped the dildo in and out with purpose. Hank was soon gripping the sheets with her free hand, back arching as the silicone cock did its work. “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” she breathed.
“Yeah, you like getting railed, don’t you? Getting your box munched is great, but there’s no substitute for a hard cock, is there?” Dakota shifted, putting her left leg over Hank’s right, then rubbed one final shot of lube onto the dildo and slid it into herself. She rocked onto it inch by inch, each movement making Hank moan and writhe, drawing the pair ever closer.
At last they touched, pussy to pussy, legs tangled, hips rocking in unison. “Fuck, I wanna see it,” Dakota growled, huffing as she thrust. “I wanna see you get plowed by a big fat cock. Those fat tits swinging as some guy bends you over a table and fucks you from behind.”
“Oh god…” Hank rubbed at herself frantically, eyes closed as she imagined the scene - rough hands on her hips, panties at her ankles, trying to stifle her moans so the other baristas wouldn’t hear, as hot cum filled her eager womb…
With a final thrust, she came, bucking against the dildo as her whole body shuddered with bliss. Dakota kept riding, lost to her own pleasure, and the sensation heightened Hank’s orgasm further. As the wave crested, she pulled free, flipping over to lick at Dakota’s clit and pump the dildo, the woman grabbing a fistful of Hank’s hair to hold her in place. When Dakota finally orgasmed, she cried loud enough to wake the neighbors, pulling Hank up to hold her tight.
Hank went limp in her embrace, exhausted and content. This was good, this was right, this was where Hank was supposed to be. There were obstacles to overcome, problems to solve - but what relationship didn’t have hurdles? Hank and Dakota would face them together and…
Jesus, had she just fantasized about getting knocked up by Zack? She shut her eyes, remembering - yep, there was Zack, fucking her stupid in the back of the coffee shop. Handsome, sexy Zack with the beautiful hair and broad chest and smell that made her pussy wet. She wasn’t in denial about her attraction - Dakota had made Hank as pansexual as she was - but until that moment she had never considered actually…
Among her many other talents, Dakota was apparently a mind reader. She sat up on an elbow, hair disheveled. Casually, she asked, “When’s the last time you had sex with a guy, hunny bunny?”
Hank’s eyes popped at the bluntness of the question. “I’ve only been with you since we started dating, sweetie,” she offered as a deflection.
The woman smiled and shook her head. “That’s not what I’m asking. How long has it been since you’ve been with a man?”
“Long time,” she lied. “Not since college.”
“Do you want to? You’re clearly aching for some real dick.”
Hank sat up, shaking her head vehemently. “I don’t need anyone but you, Dakota. You give me everything I need! Christ, you pounded the everloving shit out of me like two minutes ago!” She gave Dakota a huge dopey smile. “It was wonderful… What could top that?”
“Hunny bunny, this isn’t a test.” Dakota sat up as well, taking Hank’s hand. “I love you and I trust you. You’re my horny girl, and I do what I can, but there’s some things I can’t give you… well, specifically one thing.” She took Hank’s face in both hands, staring her eye to eye. “A penis. I’m talking about a penis.”
“Yes, I understood what you meant, thank you.” Hank mumbled, looking away awkwardly.
“If you need to scratch that itch once in a while, we can make that happen.” She put up a hand to cut off Hank’s objections. “I’m not saying you should run down to the glory hole. I need to know every single time - no exceptions - and I get an absolute veto on any hookup for any reason. We decide who you’re fucking together or you don’t fuck at all.”
A filthy smile crossed Dakota’s face. “But if you wanted to fuck… oh, I don’t know… Zack, for instance… that’d be fine with me. We can put him on the guest list right now. You make sure he wears a condom and hand him your cell phone so I can watch later.” She started kissing the shocked Hank on the neck, cupping one of her breasts. “Making you happy makes me happy… and I think getting pounded in that ratty little back room will make you real fucking happy.”
Hank said nothing. She just sat there, trying to figure out what to do, while quietly rubbing her thighs together.
It was midnight before Dakota finally fell asleep, YouTube droning away on the bedroom TV. Hank carefully untangled herself and padded into their office. She retrieved the golden bottle from its hiding place inside an empty board game box, poured two fingers of the glowing liquor into her Yeti cup and knocked them back.
“Hiya sister, how’s tricks?” From her gaming chair, Gene gave Hank a friendly wave, taking the bottle from her hands and pouring a drink into his own cup.
“I don’t know, man! Everything’s going crazy!” Hank paused, struggling to keep her voice down. “I’m trying to be cool, trying to just enjoy myself and not worry - but shit’s getting really real, and I don’t know what to do or how to feel or even if what I’m feeling is true or just the wish fucking with my head and - “
Gene waved his left hand, speaking softly. “Relax. Take a breath, have another drink, and walk me through da whole thing.” Hank slumped, the tension draining from her body. She sat down on the floor, letting the genie pour her another round. She took a moment to center herself, took a sip, and recounted everything that had happened. She explained about Dakota, her jobs, Emma and Rose, Zack, the SmutHub account - everything.
“So now I’m fantasizing about Zack pumping a baby into me, and starting a cute multicultural lesbian family with Emma and helping the love of my life become a SmutHub star! Any move I make breaks someone’s heart, but if I undo the wish then I lose everyone!”
“Well, ya girlfriend wants ya ta get plowed by da coffeeshop guy - so no worries there,” Gene helpfully noted.
“Not the point, Gene!” Hank hissed. “Dakota wants to start a media empire, not a family - but my stupid ovaries are sniffing around for a baby like a dog that heard food hit the floor!”
Gene waved it off. “Not a problem. I can move the hands on her ol’ biological clock, no sweat. She’ll be beggin’ ya for a baby by breakfast. You get Mister Coffee Bean ta fill yer pot, she shoots her dirty pictures solo for a few months - everybody gets what they want.”
Hank scowled at the genie. “No. Changing. Other. People,” she growled.
Gene rolled his eyes. “Again with this… If ya won’t let me tinker with her, then yer stuck. She don’t want no baby right now, but you do.”
“I DON’T - ” Hank shouted, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “I don’t wanna get pregnant!” she finished in a whisper.
“But ya do wanna be a parent, and being a father ain’t exactly in da cards just now, is it?” Hank opened his mouth to argue, but Gene shushed him. “Oh come on, lady! You’re cuckoo for this Rose kid - have been since before ya met me. Why else would ya prance around in a dime store wizard robe for twenty bucks an hour - ‘Uncle Hank’?”
“Fuck.” Hank sat stunned at the truth of it. “You’re right. …I am so screwed.”
“Why? Just give Dakota da heave-ho and shack up with Emma. She’s already screwy fer ya, and the kid loves ya like you was her own mudda - what’s the problem?”
Hank tried very hard not to get mad. She finished off her drink to keep from yelling. “I blew up Dakota’s whole life with this wish. I’m not going to ‘give her da heave-ho’ because I’ve had a personal revelation.” She shook her empty cup at Gene, who refilled it with a nod.
She took a long drink. “...What if I just told everyone the truth? Cards on the table. I’m sorry, I fucked up, it’ll all get fixed in a month.”
Gene shook his head. “Wouldn’t believe ya. Dis is how things are ta them. You’ll sound like a kook and they’ll chuck ya in da boobie hatch.”
Frowning, Hank considered her options. “You said you could tweak my wish. Could we make it so they remember how things were? If Emma and Dakota understood how I screwed up…”
“Bad idea, sister.” Gene shook his head firmly. “Seen it a hundred times. First they give ya da ‘oh my god.’ Then comes da ‘how could you do this?’ Finally, step three is always, ‘hows come I don’t get a piece of da wish?’ Believe you me, looping people in always spells trouble.”
Hank eyed Gene suspiciously. “I notice you didn’t say ‘no’ to my question.”
With a heavy sigh, Gene rose from the chair, handing the bottle to Hank. “Genie Union rules require me to inform you that exposing another human to my magic will awaken them to its power. Which, in dis case, means givin’ em a shot of Djinn. A single will make ‘em remember, a double will fill ‘em in on the whole story.” Hank raised an eyebrow at that and Gene shrugged. “It saves time, rather than havin’ ta repeat yerself over and over.”
He put a meaty hand on her shoulder. “But I’m beggin’ ya, take my advice and just let things ride. Ain’t ya havin’ fun with Dakota? Don’t ya love her? Don’t muck things up just ‘cause yer feelin’ baby crazy right now. Give it a week, see how things shake out.”
Hank looked at Gene, then down into the glowing liquor in her cup. “One more week,” she said, still looking at the booze. “I can do one more week.”
“Atta girl!” Gene gave her shoulder a friendly shake. “Trust me, dis is all just new life jitters! New girl, new sex, new hormones - it’s gonna take some gettin’ used to! Just stay da course, don’t rock da boat. You’ll be right as rain before ya know it!”
Hank looked up to speak, but Gene was gone. She was alone in the dark room, cup in one hand, bottle in the other. Silently, she pounded the rest of her Djinn, returned the bottle to its hiding place and went back to bed.
Dakota snuggled against her as she lay down. “You ok hunny bunny?” she asked, kissing Hank’s neck while still mostly asleep.
“Right as rain,” she murmured, half-drunk, staring at the ceiling.
Hank held out for a little while. Saturday at Naked Pull was even busier than it had been the week before - wall to wall horndogs, baying for coffee and tits from the moment the doors opened. She shouted out names til she was hoarse and bent over so many times her back threatened to go on strike. By the time Zack finally cut her loose, she’d never felt less horny in her life. She snoozed on the couch until it was time to leave.
Then there was still the escape room, streaming and the camshow - by 1am, Hank was absolutely wiped. Sunday she recovered, playing video games in her panties and fooling around with Dakota until her shift at Temple of Delights. Things were getting tense; the polite fiction that Emma and Hank weren’t attracted to each other was wearing thin. Hank focused on the work and on Rose, trying to be the best auntie she could be.
“I got a text from Dakota,” Emma mentioned between groups. “She offered me work editing your… videos. Are you aware of this?”
“I am,” Hank replied, checking the temperature of a stegosaurus. “She could use the help, and you could use the cash. You can do a lot of the work from home, and I can watch Rose when you and Dakota need to work on something together.”
“So you want me to sit and watch the two of you… for money?” Emma took a deep breath, keeping her voice neutral. “I’m not sure how to feel about that.”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be pretty goddamn strange,” Hank admitted, trying to match Emma’s tone.
“No swearing, Auntie Hank,” Rose chided.
Hank snerked at that, the tension breaking. She apologized and turned fully to Emma. “Dakota’s trying to help, she really is. Her dad totally cut her off when we got together - trust fund, car, apartment, everything. She had to cam to pay the bills. Now that she’s making decent money, she wants to stick a finger in the eye of anyone who bails on family.”
Emma softened at the explanation. “I didn’t know that. I… It’s really weird. But I’ll think about it.” She smiled at Hank, who smiled back. They held eyes for a moment, and they both felt the spark. Emma looked away, sighing. “I should go get ready for the next group,” she mumbled.
Still mulling over that crisis, Hank completely forgot about the Zack crisis until she was gluing pasties to her nipples Monday morning. As she stared at her tits in the mirror, pressing the latex coffee pot firmly in place, she saw Dakota in the hall. The woman pulled Hank’s purse from the hook, unzipped it, and dropped a pack of condoms inside.
They locked eyes in the reflection and Dakota’s look said everything. Then she went back to the office like nothing had happened. Hank swallowed, knowing what was coming, a mix of dread and excitement rising up in her stomach. She finished getting dressed - in so far as she got dressed - then put on her coat and slung her purse over her shoulder. It felt very, very heavy.
She could sense her purse the whole morning as she served the coffee, just waiting in the office. Every time Zack walked past, every time he shouted over the crowd or hauled away a bag of trash, a little voice reminded her that her break was coming soon.
In just a few hours, she’d be resting in that office. She’d be lying down on that soft couch, wrapped up in that robe, chatting with Zack while he did paperwork. They’d talk about sports and video games.
Only she didn’t have to wear that robe. She didn’t have to talk about sports and video games. She didn’t have to rest. The paperwork could wait. She was beautiful… he was handsome… no one ever bothered them… and she had a pack of condoms in her purse.
“Miss? Miss?” Hank shook her head, turned to the guy in front of her in a daze. “Um, sorry, what did you need, sir?”
“Can you let go of my coffee, miss?” He looked down, and her eyes followed to the coffee cup she’d half-crushed in her right hand. She released it with an apology and moved to the next order.
The morning seemed to move in slow motion. Customers came and went, a thousand cups moved across the counter, but the hands of the big clock were glued in place. How much fucking coffee did these horny assholes need!? Twice she had to squat down out of sight to check her crotch, absolutely certain she’d soaked through her g-string.
Finally, mercifully, ten o’clock hit and Zack sent Hank to the break room. She moved in a daze, body humming with sexual energy, and she had to take deep breaths to keep from masturbating the moment the office door closed.
Her brain was urgently warning that this was a mistake. Not that sex with a man was a mistake; Hank had made peace with that urge as a side effect of the wish, and the fantasy was powerful fuel for Dakota. She’d been a wildcat in bed since she’d broached the topic - which was saying something. But fucking her boss, at work, during business hours was really dangerous.
And it was the danger that made it so goddamn hot, her burning libido countered. Just a cheap lock keeping the other baristas out, just a thin door blocking her moans… Plus, Dakota would be waiting for the video call to start, so she could watch the show…
We could always skip the condom, her ovaries casually suggested, staring up at the ceiling and whistling.
“Man, what a morning…” Zack entered the office, shaking his head. “I swear, the fucking clock moves in slow motion on Mondays.” He sat, loading up the counting machine as he scratched down a few notes. “Hey, did you see the game last night? That 3-pointer at the half was sick! Marsten is definitely going to.. make..”
He paused. Hank was standing over him, robe hanging loose, draped over her breasts, silent save for her heavy breathing. Her cell phone was gripped tight in her left hand. He stood up slowly, unsure of what was happening, and was soon looking down into emerald eyes burning with desire.
“Hank? You ok?”
She responded by wrapping her free hand around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss, a wordless declaration of intent. Zack froze, and Hank realized that, somehow, the man had never considered that this might happen.
Maybe it was the wish, or maybe he was just clueless, but until this moment, Hank wasn’t a gorgeous, nearly naked redhead in Zack’s mind. Hank was just a barista that vaped with Zack behind the store, who liked sports and video games.
But that spell broke the moment Hank’s lips touched Zack’s. She watched the thought enter his brain like a bullet, eyes going wide and nostrils flaring. He took a step back, looking her up and down, suddenly seeing what had been in front of him the whole time. “What about Dakota?” he asked.
Hank gave him her dirtiest smile and held up her phone. “She wants to watch.”
And then the robe was gone and Hank was in Zack’s arms and their lips were locked. She sighed, pressing into him, feeling his heat against her skin. He grabbed her ass, squeezing tight, and she returned the favor. It was every bit as firm and luscious as she’d imagined. His hand rose, gripping her thigh and pulling her leg up to his waist. Hank reached for Zack’s collar, started unbuttoning his shirt. She buried her face in his chest hair, drank in his scent.
Oh my god, I’m going to get fucked by Zack, Hank’s mind murmurred, wondering how she’d wound up here.
Oh my god, I’m going to get fucked by Zack! Hank’s body cheered, wondering how it had taken so long.
Soon Hank had turned, ass grinding into Zack’s tented khakis, his strong hands groping her tits, kisses on her neck as she gasped and whimpered. His stubble felt strange and wonderful against her soft skin. She put one hand down her g-string, tracing soft lazy circles around her clit, the other reaching back to rub at Zack’s crotch.
He put his lips to her ear, tongue teasing. “You ready?”
“Condoms in my purse,” she whispered back, running a hand along his cheek. Zack moved for the coat hook, while Hank undid her garter and slid off her g-string. She hopped onto the desk, pushing aside the cash and paperwork, and sat with her legs spread wide when Zack finally found the pack.
He turned back and his eyes popped at the sight, this smiling naked goddess, and Hank almost laughed at his expression when she peeled off the pasties, leaving her in nothing but thigh highs and heels. Zack walked forward in a horny trance, and Hank felt the same high Dakota got whenever she turned Hank into a quivering ball of lust.
With great ceremony, Hank undid Zack’s belt, worked his fly and pulled down his pants. His cock strained against his boxer briefs, pre-cum making a dark stain, and she gently stroked it through the cloth. It twitched at her touch and the stain grew a little. Hank ran her finger through the stain, then sucked it clean, giving Zack a smile full of promise.
Then she pulled down his underwear, and there it was - Zack’s cock, out in the open air, waiting for her. Hank hadn’t quite known how she would feel in this moment, for all that she was aching to get fucked. Would he have a big dick, a small one? Would it be weird? Would it be gross? Would she snap out of her desire at the last moment, and be stuck staring at some half naked guy waiting to bang?
But no - Zack’s cock was exactly what she wanted. She didn’t have much frame of reference, but it seemed big; certainly more than she’d had in her old life, with a pleasing upward curve and a large pink head. His pubic hair was well groomed and his balls… Hank didn’t know how to describe balls. Hank could describe breasts in vivid detail, but she hadn’t given men’s testicles a lot of thought up to this point. Whatever - they looked great, and they made his cock look great. They really tied the room together.
She ran a finger along her new toy, watching a drop of pre-cum ooze from the head, then wrapped her hand around the shaft and began to slowly stroke. This was happening, this was real; Hank was stroking a man’s penis, getting him hard so he could fuck her.
She brought up Dakota’s contact with her free hand and started the video call. The woman picked up instantly - still at home, naked on their bed, triumphant smile on her face. “Hello Hunny Bunny,” she purred. “Show me.” Hank flipped the phone around, switching the view to her hand on Zack’s cock. She panned up, smiling at the man as she stroked, showing him what was waiting on the other end of the line.
“Hello Zack, having a good morning?” The man nodded dumbly, torn between the naked lady talking to him on the screen and the naked lady stroking his dick on the desk. “Can you do me a big favor and take Hank’s phone so I can watch while you fuck her? Thanks buddy.” He tossed the pack of condoms next to Hank’s thigh and took the phone, holding it up and freeing Hank’s hand to touch herself. “Zack, you’re very handsome, but I’m not here to see your face. Hit the flip camera button.” He did as he was told, and Dakota made a little yummy noise.
“There’s my girl - and look how horny she is.” Hank smiled up at Zack and the camera, both hands working. “You better wrap him up quick before you just finger yourself.” Reluctantly, she let go of Zack and herself, opening the condom pack and pulling one from the box. She opened a foil wrapper with her teeth, pulling out the latex ring and rolling it out down Zack’s penis.
Then she lay back on the desk, awash with desire, staring up at the handsome man above her. Whatever lingering doubts Hank had about magic, gender identity, monogamy, kids, whatever - all of that had evaporated the moment she’d seen Dakota’s face.
Hank wanted to get fucked, by a man, and she wanted to get fucked right now.
Zack leaned forward, guided his dick to Hank’s pussy with his free hand, gently pressed - and it was in. He took a moment to make sure everything was nice and wet, then got to work, hips rocking as he slid in and out, one hand on Hank’s thigh while the other held the phone.
Like almost everything else, Dakota had been right - there was nothing like a real hard cock inside of you. A dildo was great, and Hank was sure she and Dakota would be using one tonight - but this felt so primal, so organic. Ignoring interdimensional lawsuits and genie magic, this was what her body was made for. Zack gave dick and Hank took it; it was the natural order.
Hank reveled in the sensation as Zack thrust, pleasure rising with each stroke. She massaged her clit and her breath grew ragged. “Yes, oh fuck yes…” she whispered, trying hard to keep her voice low. The desk began to squeak, bolts complaining rhythmically about this misuse of corporate furniture. Hank worried they were making too much noise, but not nearly enough to consider stopping. She just stuffed a free hand in her mouth and kept rubbing.
They fucked for a long time, or at least it seemed that way to Hank. Zack towered above, broad manly chest getting dewy with sweat, gripping Hank’s thigh to keep her steady as he thrust into her again and again. She squirmed more with each stroke, fingers moving frantically. Dakota’s moans came through the tinny cellphone speaker, her orgasm not far off.
Hank closed her eyes, focused on the pleasure radiating from between her legs. She imagined Zack’s beautiful cock pumping her full of cum, over and over, in a dozen different positions until it finally caught. She imagined her swelling belly, huge milky breasts, her body filling with life…
Zack grunted, putting the phone down and grabbing Hank’s hips with both hands. He thrust for all he was worth five, ten, twenty times - then pressed his cock as far into Hank’s pussy as he could, shuddering as he filled the condom. The feeling of his pulsing cum sent Hank over the edge; she bit down on her hand as she came, back arching and legs shaking as the orgasm raced through her body.
“Hank? Hank?” Dakota’s voice called out from the phone. It was resting right next to Hank’s face, but also a hundred miles away. She picked it up with a limp hand and smiled weakly at the flush, naked woman on the screen. “Did you get your itch scratched, hunny bunny?” she asked with a smirk. Hank nodded, still panting. “I needed that,” she admitted. “Thanks sweetie. Love you, see you tonight!” They said their goodbyes and Hank put the phone down.
Zack dropped into the office chair, fuses blown, pants at his ankles. “Holy shit…” he breathed, staring blankly at the floor. He shook his head a few times, trying to make sense of what just happened. “That was intense…”
Hank hopped down, grabbing a kleenex to wipe herself off. “Yeah it was. I’ve never gotten dicked down like that before,” she said with absolute honesty. She passed Zack the tissues and started redressing. “We better hit the vape before we open the door, try to mask the smell a little. Oh - to answer your question from before, I did see the game. If Harrison and Dutton can stay off the DL, I think we might have a shot at the playoffs.”
“Not a chance,” Zack replied, throwing the condom in the trash and pulling up his pants. “The Thunder are unstoppable.” He stopped, staring at Hank as she moved to grab her purse. “Hank, what the hell is going on? You throw yourself at me, tell me your girlfriend wants to watch, let me plow you on the shitty desk - then just go back to talking basketball like nothing happened?”
“Sometimes a girl wants to get dicked deep, and I’d rather it be with someone I like than a rando off an app.” Hank pulled the compact from her purse, checking her makeup. “I’m promoting you to ‘Supervisor With Benefits,’ if you’re cool with that.”
He considered the offer. “I mean, if you’re sure Dakota’s ok with it, I’m hardly gonna say no. But, like, that’s it? Same as yesterday, only sometimes I’m balls deep in you?”
Hank hadn’t expected to hear ‘Balls deep’ today. She howled with laughter, grabbing the couch arm to keep from falling over. Eventually she composed herself. “Yeah, more or less. I’m with Dakota and I’m gonna stay with Dakota, but she doesn’t give a shit about sports or video games. You’re my go-to for that stuff, and I’d like it to stay that way… only now we have sex once in a while, too. Ok?”
“Ok,” he agreed. “You’re cool with me still seeing other people, right?”
“Of course, as long as you don’t hide what you do with me. I may be easy, but I’m not gonna help anybody cheat.” Hank wrapped up and lay on the couch. “But for now, you better get back to work. The other girls are gonna think we’re fucking back here or something.”
“Right, Right!” Zack shook himself and started sorting paperwork. “Man, we’re just drowning in customers all of a sudden. I haven’t changed anything - same ol’ coffee, same ol’ topless baristas - but dudes are falling over themselves to give us money.” He gave Hank a cocky grin. “And now I get to bang one of the topless baristas every day? It’s been a weird couple of weeks.”
“You have absolutely no idea.” Hank scrolled through the filthy text messages Dakota had sent since the call ended, several of them making her eyes pop. “And for the record, this is very much a sometimes thing. We are not going to have sex every day.”
Hank and Zack had sex every day that week - and the next. Dakota would jump Hank the moment they both got home from the coffee shop, dragging her to the bedroom or just pushing her to the hallway carpet and taking her on the spot. Seeing Hank get fucked was a powerful aphrodisiac, and each orgasm just made Dakota hungry for more. She whispered her horny fantasies to Hank each morning as she put on her lingerie, and made a big show of putting fresh condoms in her purse.
The shifts at Naked Pull became delicious agony. The stares of the customers had become routine over the past few weeks, but Zack’s hungry glances as they worked made her feel exposed all over again - only this time she kinda liked it. The hours dragged by, Hank constantly looking up at the big clock, willing it to move faster. She wondered if Gene could do something about that.
Finally, ten would arrive and Zack would send Hank on her break, trying his utmost to remain calm and relaxed. He’d spend a minute making sure the other baristas were set up, then grab the till and the tips and casually saunter to the office. The moment the door was locked, Hank’s tongue was in his mouth and her hand was down his pants. They’d bought a little tripod off of Amazon for Hank’s cell phone, freeing their hands for more athletic positions - much to Dakota’s approval.
They tried some oral on Wednesday, but it turned out that Dakota had not added any particular talent for blowjobs to Hank’s list of feminine attributes. She did her best, but a cock in her mouth did not elicit nearly the same reaction as one in her vagina. Frankly, it was a little unpleasant - and Hank had a major gag reflex. Zack made a solid effort to eat her out, but Dakota knew Hank’s pussy better than even Hank did, and did tricks with her tongue that made Hank see God. In comparison, the poor guy never stood a chance.
Ultimately, Hank just threw the robe on the office floor and had Zack take her doggy style. That was amazing, so they just stuck with what worked from then on. By the first Friday, they started going again after Zack had done the morning’s paperwork and checked in on the other baristas - a dirty little quickie before the lunch rush, Hank folded up on the couch or leaning against the far wall with Zack’s arm wrapped around her waist.
She tried her very best not to imagine how much better all this would be if the stupid condom wasn’t in the way. Sometimes it worked.
Between home and the coffee shop, Hank was getting laid from dawn til dusk. Hands on her breasts, tongues on her clit, cocks (of one form or another) in her pussy, again and again and again, all day long. Hank spent hours on her back, on her knees, legs spread wide, bent over any surface that would hold her, writhing in ecstacy, lost to bliss.
It was quickly becoming exhausting.
Hank’s only sanctuary from the hurricane of pleasure during the week was the escape room - four hours each night where all she had to do was help clueless players find the emerald key. The rest of the time she could rest, talk with Emma and play with Rose.
But even here, there was trouble. Emma had taken up Dakota’s job offer, and it was clear that editing videos of Hank and Dakota was not helping her sexual tension. She tried her best though; Hank arrived at work each day worn out, pounding caffeine to keep up her energy and sometimes falling asleep with Rose in the big chair.
By Friday of the second week, Emma pulled Hank aside after they escorted the last group out the door. “Alright… I’ve been trying not to pry, but I’m sorry, I’m getting worried - are you ok? Are you sick or something?”
“Sick?” Hank yawned hugely and shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Just tired. Really… really tired. I’ll be ok - just need a Diet Coke or a Red Bull or something.” She walked into the break room, leaning slightly on her staff, and put Rose on her lap as she sat down.
“Are you running marathons or something? You’re dead on your feet!”
“No, I’ve just been really busy with…” Hank nodded meaningfully at Rose. “Stuff.”
“Oh. Stuff.” Emma gave Hank a slightly sour look, but grabbed a soda from the fridge and passed it to her. “Have you and Dakota been making extra videos of stuff?”
“You make videos, Auntie Hank?” Rose looked up from her coloring book, impressed. “Can I see?”
“NO!” Hank and Emma shouted in unison. “No,” Hank repeated more calmly. “They’re boring grown-up stuff… and they’re not done yet! Your mom is helping me and Aunt Dakota finish the videos.”
“Oh. That’s what she’s doing when she locks her bedroom door.” Mystery solved, she returned to her work.
“That’s right, Rose. But no, Emma, no extra work coming your way. It’s something else. It’s… complicated. I’ve got a really big decision coming up soon, and I’m still not sure what I’m going to do, but I’ve been completely distracted with Dakota and Zack -”
“Zack? Your boss at the coffee shop? That Zack?” Hank instantly understood she’d fucked up. Emma stood, eyes brimming with tears. “So Zack’s good enough, but I’m not. I see. Yeah, that would explain why you’re so fucking tired.”
“Mama!” Rose was shocked at the outburst. Emma pulled her from Hank’s arms and squeezed her tight. “Sorry baby. Hank said something bad, and it made me swear. But that’s ok, it won’t happen ever again. Get your things, we’re gonna go, right now.”
The girl went to clean up and Hank grabbed Emma’s hand. “Emma, please,” she pleaded.
“Fuck you, Hank,” Emma hissed back, pulling away.
Hank shot up, putting herself between Emma and the door. “Please Emma, please - give me a chance to explain! One chance!” She started to tear up herself. “I’m really mixed up, I don’t know what to do! You’re the only person I can talk to anymore! You’re my only friend!”
Emma stared, silently weighing Hank’s plea. After a long terrible moment, she sighed and her shoulders slumped. “One chance Hank. For Rose’s sake, you get one chance.”
“Not here.” Hank wiped at her eyes, composing herself. “This is big and complicated, and you literally won’t believe me here. Take Rose home and drive back to my place. I’ll meet you in the courtyard outside the apartment complex at midnight. I swear it’ll all make sense.” She paused. “No, it won’t make sense at all - but you will at least understand why things are so screwed up.”
Dakota was mercifully asleep when Hank got home. She got out of her sorceress costume, put on some street clothes and snuck downstairs with the boardgame box and a glass. She sat in the courtyard, wishing she’d thought to put on a jacket, but was terrified to go back upstairs and miss Emma.
She pulled up right on schedule, and as she approached Hank pulled the bottle from the box. “I’m gonna handle this myself,” she whispered. “Please don’t pop out and terrify her.”
“Yer funeral, sis,” came a tiny voice from inside.
Emma grabbed a chair opposite Hank, her face a mask of barely restrained contempt. “Ok Hank, here I am. Explain to me why you’re not a manipulative slut who’s too good to sleep with me but has no problem fucking her boss. It better be real fucking good.”
Hank winced at ‘slut,’ but let it pass. The woman had a right to be upset. Instead, she set the glass in front of herself and poured a shot of Djinn, the glowing liquor lighting up the whole table. Emma leaned back, her anger turning into confusion and fear. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s what got me into this mess. If I try to explain it, you won’t believe me.” Hank downed the shot, then poured another. “But if you take a shot, you’ll understand. At least, you’ll understand how fucked up everything is.”
She slid the glass to Emma. The woman picked it up, stared at it. She looked from the Djinn, to Hank, to the Djinn and back to Hank. Then she downed the shot, tilting her head all the way up. She froze, the glass pointed at the sky for a half dozen heartbeats, and when she set it back down her eyes were wide as saucers.
“Oh my god. Hank?” She reached out, touching Hank’s face like she’d never seen it before. “Jesus Hank, how could you do this to yourself!?”
“I didn’t,” she replied, “Not exactly. It’s a long story, but TL:DR I made a stupid wish to be with Dakota, and once it was locked in, one of us had to change to make the match work. I wasn’t gonna twist her into my horny sex fantasy… so she ended up twisting me into her horny sex fantasy.”
Emma put a hand to her mouth. “Oh god, now you’re stuck as her fucking sex slave! Hank, I will absolutely help you get free! We can go right now. I have some money, we can get Rose and drive -”
“NoNo!” Hank shook her head vigorously. “Dakota hasn’t done anything wrong!” She paused. “Well, I was her mindless sex slave for a few minutes, but that was just the wish needing some adjustment. We cleared it up right away - No harm, no foul.”
“No, Dakota’s great. She’s wonderful, actually. Hornier that I would have expected. A lot hornier than I would have expected, but she’s a smart, brave, loving woman. Turning me into Playmate of the Decade was a shock, but I think that “finding” the girl of her dreams gave her the courage to tell her dad to go fuck himself and live her truth.”
“So, you’re not sexually dominated by her?” Emma looked askance at Hank, sitting in the brisk October midnight in a tube top, shivering.
“No. Well, yes.” Emma looked more askance at Hank, and she continued. “Look, she likes being in charge in the bedroom, so she made it so I like being… not in charge. But that’s only in bed! The rest of the time we are equal partners.”
“But you’re the one who works two jobs with your tits hanging out, then comes home to make porn for her website?”
“Hey!” Hank pointed a finger, rising to defend her girl. “She works her ass off on SLC_Lezzys! It takes a ton of effort to make it big as a content creator - especially in adult entertainment! You’ve seen how annoying managing all those videos is!”
Emma slumped in her chair, rubbing at her temples. “This is fucking nuts. Dakota turned you into some horny submissive bimbo who serves coffee nude to support her dreams of being a tramp on SmutHub - and you’re sitting here defending her!”
She sat up and grabbed Hank’s hand. “She did make you into her sex slave! You’re totally mind fucked! Isn’t there any part of you that sees that? Christ, she’s got you banging Zack in the break room as some kind of fucked up power game!”
Hank shook her head. “No, she lets me sleep with Zack. I know that sounds stupid, and she definitely gets off on it, but she’s trying to help me. She thinks I’m unsatisfied without some hetero sex, so she gave me permission to sleep with him. Only problem is that’s not what I want from Zack - and what I actually want, I can’t have.”
Emma waited for the punchline. “Alright, I’ll bite - what do you want?”
“What I want is a family.” Emma’s eyes went wide, and Hank pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not with him! I mean, yes, with him - but I don’t want to raise a family with him. Zack’s a nice enough guy, but he’s a total himbo. A baby daddy, not a father. Besides, owning a small business is an eighty hour a week job.”
“Hank, buddy,” Emma snarked, “you’re not beating the ‘mind fucked’ allegations by telling me you want to be bred by the stud your dommy mommy picked for you.”
There was a pause, and then Hank let out a deep sigh. “You don’t understand. Whenever Hank’s got me folded up in that office, pounding me into the couch cushions, it’s not him I’m fantasizing next to me in the maternity ward. It’s not Dakota either; I love her, but she’s not ready for kids, and she won’t be for a long time.”
“Well then, who?” Hank stared at Emma, disbelieving. After a moment, she squeezed Emma’s hand, hoping perhaps she could pump some extra blood to the woman’s brain.
Finally she got the idea. Emma gasped and she started to tear up. “Really? That.. that would be amazing. I always wanted more, but a single lesbian mom - I figured it was impossible.” She gave Hank a huge smile, her dreams coming true. “You’re gonna be an incredible mother.”
Hank took a deep breath, stared her hard in the eyes. “No, I’m not. I can’t drag Dakota into this and then abandon her. In a week or two, I’m gonna get the chance to undo my wish - and I think I have to take it. Reset everything, go back to being Henry Joseph Hamilton.”
She watched Emma’s dream die in front of her, but held her hand tight when she tried to pull away. “Emma, I can’t be the woman you want without breaking Dakota’s heart. She didn’t ask for any of this and she doesn’t deserve that. But I am always, always going to be there for you and Rose. I can’t be your girl, but I can be your friend and I can be your wingman.”
“There’s lots of wonderful women in this town. We’ll find one for you, and we’ll find one for me. You’ve always got a free babysitter for dates or to get some alone time. Then, once we’re both married, we can move next door to each other and our kids can play. I know it’s not what you want, but it’s all I can give you with a clear conscience.”
Emma squeezed her eyes closed, a few tears running down her cheeks. They sat in silence for a while, until Emma had the strength to speak. “...Free babysitting?” she asked, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Uncle Hank is ready to help, any time.” Hank took her thumb and wiped away Emma’s tears. “Me and Rose can watch movies, I can feed her a shitload of sugar and caffeine, maybe teach her some cool new swear words.”
“Yeah, you’re right. This is not what I wanted.” Emma sighed and gave Hank a tired smile. “But at least you’re not a manipulative slut who’s too good to sleep with me.”
“I have absolutely no problem getting fucked by my boss, though - you were dead on about that.” Hank helped Emma to her feet and they embraced. “Sorry Emma.”
“Eh, shit happens.” She squeezed Hank tight and held her there. “Dear god, you have amazing tits. Any chance you can transfer them to me when you flip back? Giant perfect breasts would do wonders for my tips at the cafe.”
“I doubt it,” Hank said with a shrug. “But I’ll talk to my tit guy and see what we can do.”
Emma chuckled at that, but paused. “How are you gonna explain all this to Dakota? Are you gonna explain all this to Dakota?”
Hank shrugged again. “I have no fucking idea.”
When Hank woke up Saturday, she knew it was time. She saw Dakota sleeping peacefully beside her, and knew that she couldn’t just ride things out anymore. She couldn’t keep sleeping with this woman, keep loving her, and then just undo it all in a few weeks and pretend nothing happened. It was time to tell the truth and accept the consequences.
Then Dakota opened her eyes, gave her that smile, started kissing her neck, and Hank chickened out.
They fucked in the shower, Hank on her knees, eating Dakota out with guilty desperation, as though an earth-shattering orgasm might tip the balance in the final reckoning. She licked and sucked, rubbed and pumped, used every trick she could think of to make Dakota come, and kept at it until the woman’s legs turned to jelly.
Hank wasn’t sure if it would help, but it probably couldn’t hurt.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dakota gasped from the tile floor, water spraying onto her chest. “What the fuck was that for!? Is it our anniversary or something? I’ll get you back… I’m just… gonna need a minute.”
“No time, sweetie.” Hank crawled over to kiss her, then stood up and started scrubbing. “I gotta get to the shop. You stay here today and work - I’m gonna come home right after ten.”
Dakota pulled herself up on shaky legs, wrapping her arms around Hank’s waist and kissing her cheek. “Ok hunny bunny, if you say so. But I am gonna pay you back for that performance later today. Make room in your schedule!”
Saturday morning at Naked Pull was… another Saturday morning at Naked Pull. At this point, Hank was used to it. She served overpriced coffee to horny men, dressed like a stripper - just another day at the office. She shouted names, passed cups, ignored leers, and watched the tip jar fill up. Zack gave her the fuck eyes once or twice, but the crowd was so intense they barely had time to think, much less flirt.
Ten came before Hank knew it. Zack gave his usual ‘give her a round of applause’ speech, the crowd clapped, and Hank hustled into the office to decompress. When Zack entered a few minutes later, she was wrapped up tight in the robe, flopped limply on the couch. He surveyed the scene as he shut the door. “No sex today?”
“No sex today,” she confirmed. “Sorry Zack.”
“Oh thank god...” Hank raised an eyebrow at that and Zack quickly threw his hands up in apology. “Sorry! Didn’t mean anything by it! I’m just getting a little stiff is all. That couch isn’t exactly designed for lovemaking.”
“You’re not the one getting folded into a pretzel on it twice a day!” she said with a smirk.
“You’re not the one bent over doing two hundred pelvic thrusts on it twice a day,” he countered. “But yeah, let’s take a break. Your girlfriend can jill off to a rerun.” They talked about sports instead, and took a few puffs off Zack’s vape. He counted out the morning’s tips, gave Hank her cut, and headed back out. “Alright, I’ll see you Monday, Hank. We’ll see how we feel about couch time then.”
“See you Monday,” she replied, not sure if she would.
“Hunny bunny, what’s going on?” Dakota sat on the couch, getting nervous as Hank gathered supplies from around the apartment. “Is everything ok?”
She joined Dakota, sitting opposite her and putting two glasses and the boardgame box on the coffee table. “I don’t know, sweetie. Truly, I don’t know. Only you can answer that question.” She opened the box and pulled out the golden bottle, then poured each of them a double shot. Dakota’s nerves redoubled when she saw the glowing liquid. “Hank, what is this? What’s happening?”
Hank took a deep breath, steeling herself, and took Dakota’s hand. “A few weeks ago, something completely insane happened to me, and in the moment of insanity I made a reckless choice. I’ve been trying to deal, and wait for a chance to undo it, but rolling it back and pretending it didn’t happen wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“You deserve to know the truth, so I’m going to show you the truth. Whatever happens after that, I’ll accept. It’s my fuckup. Just know that I had a great time and I love you.”
The hurt that rose up in Dakota’s eyes was devastating to see. “Did you sleep with someone, Hank? Did… Did you sleep with Emma?”
Hank sighed. “No. I fucked up a lot of things, but I didn’t cheat on you. I never would. It’s… real hard to explain, sweetie.” She picked up the glasses and handed one to Dakota. “Just have a drink with me, and you’ll understand.”
“Ok, hunny bunny. If you say so, I trust you.” Hank dearly wished she hadn’t said that, but she raised her glass anyway. “Here’s to honesty.”
Dakota toasted back, clearly afraid. “To honesty.” They knocked back their drinks in unison, Hank in one go, Dakota in three long gulps. She brought her glass down hard onto the coffee table, then stared at it, silent, for what seemed like a hundred years.
“Motherfucker,” she finally said. “Goddamn doublecrossing sack of shit.”
Hank closed her eyes, started to softly cry. She assumed it was all going to end once Dakota got a bellyful of Djinn, but she’d still hoped…
Dakota rose, started pacing the room, her anger rising as she ranted. “I cannot believe this! Just the arrogance of it! Slippery smiling bastard! Pretending like everything was fine, like it wasn’t fucking coercion!”
“Dakota, I am so, so sorry.” Hank’s voice was small, half lost behind sobs. “I have no idea why I blurted out such a stupid wish. As soon as I said it, I knew it was a mistake. I swear, I didn’t do anything to you - I made sure all the changes happened to me.”
“What?” Dakota wheeled to face Hank. “You’re sorry?”
“I fucked up so bad!” Hank wailed. “I fucked up your whole life for no reason!”
Then Hank was wrapped in Dakota’s arms, squeezed tight. “Oh, hunny bunny… my sweet hunny bunny! You didn’t do anything wrong! Oh hon!”
Hank was shocked out of her misery. She stared up at Dakota, makeup smeared and snot running down her nose. “Of course I did something wrong! I wished for you to be my girlfriend! I didn’t even know you! You were just yelling about how I’m a doublecrossing coercing bastard!”
“Hank, hunny bunny - I wasn’t talking about you.” She squeezed Hank one more time, then let her go. “You let me turn you into my dream girl, rather than force any changes onto me. It was very noble and very sexy. You slay as a girl - and that tomboy nerd stuff is sexy as hell on hot chicks. You’ve put up with a lot of crazy changes to make me happy, and I am happy.”
She gave the baffled Hank a shrug and a flirty wink. “Not how I would have asked for a date, but you made it work.”
Dakota grabbed the golden bottle from the table. “I was talking about the shitty, lying, double-crossing ASSHOLE who forced you to make such a reckless wish in the first place!” She tore out the cork and screamed down the neck. “GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OUT HERE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT GENIE!”
“You watch yer mouth, toots!” Gene appeared, finger pointed directly in her face. “You ain’t my client - I don’t gotta take no guff from you!”
Unintimidated, Dakota pointed a finger right back. “I am gonna cram so much fucking guff down your throat, your genie grandkids will be crapping it out!” Her accusing finger swung towards Hank. “What part of your Genie Union bullshit let you strongarm Hank into rushing her wish, huh? Where’s the bylaw that let you hypnotize her every time she raised an objection? I think you cut corners ‘cause you’re a lazy asshole who couldn’t be bothered to do things right!”
“Hypnotize?” Hank stood up, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “He hypnotized me?”
“Hunny bunny, he stirred your brain up like scrambled eggs. Every time you got upset, or asked too many questions, or wanted time to think, he waved his left hand and told you what to do.” She waved her left hand at Hank, miming Gene’s motion. “He did it to calm you down, he did it to make you ok with being a woman - and he did it so you’d blurt out the first wish that came to mind.”
Gene shrugged, giving the pair a ‘what could I do!?’ look. “Hey! If I hadn’t ‘a fixed da woman thing, Hank woulda gone bugnuts! Stuck as a sexy lady for six weeks, everyone oglin’ her sweet cans? She’d be crazier than a shithouse rat by now!”
“You rushed me!?” Hank got up from the couch, outraged. She marched up to Gene and poked him hard in the chest. “I had the power to reshape the whole world, and you couldn’t spare me five fucking minutes to think!?”
“Five minutes? YOU’DA NEVER COME UP WITH A WISH IN FIVE HOURS!” Gene’s shout made both women step back. He glared at them, furious. “You weak-kneed moralizin’ handwringers spend forever thinkin’ about consequences! ‘What about her feelings?’ ‘I’m takin’ away her free will!’ ‘It wouldn’t be true love!’ Blahblahblah! Buncha horse hockey!”
“It’s a wish, not a bake sale - you plays da tune, everyone else dances. Anything you change is gonna shuffle up da world; spendin’ all day makin’ spreadsheets don’t do nothin’ but waste my time. You ain’t my only client, lady - I got a schedule to keep! I got quotas! So yeah, I grease da chute sometimes, so I can get on wit my job!”
Hank stared at the snarling genie, speechless at such incredible callousness. Finally, she summarized her feelings of betrayal and outrage by kicking Gene in the balls. He crumpled to the ground, howling in agony, hands gripping his crotch.
“YOU ASSHOLE!” She gave him a second kick, driving her sneaker into his ribs. “You could have come back later!” Gene rolled and Hank kicked him in the back. “I could have sent you a fucking email!”
Gene groaned and struggled to his knees. “Ya got exactly whatcha wanted, ya dippy broad! Ya both got exactly whatcha wanted! WHAT THE HELL ARE YA COMPLAININ’ ABOUT!?”
“Like shit we did!” Dakota moved to the table, grabbing the bottle and a glass. “What about Emma? What about Hank wanting kids? Things are totally fucked!” She poured, filling the glass nearly to the top. “But we’re gonna fix all that right now. You’re gonna adjust the wish, exactly how we say, or I swear I will file a complaint with the Genie Union!”
Gene stood and clenched his fists, golden body radiating anger in almost visible waves. “Put that fucking Djinn down, lady. Ya ain’t my client; I don’t have ta play nice with you, and I won’t tell ya twice.”
Dakota looked from Gene to Hank, eyes filled with defiance. “Love you, hunny bunny,” she whispered. Then she knocked back the whole drink and threw the glass at Gene.
“I wish you’d shut the fuck up,” she snarled.
Gene roared, inhuman fury shaking the walls of the apartment. “I CAN’T STANDS NO MONKEY BUSINESS!” His left arm burst into flame up to the elbow, the heat making Hank scramble away in panic. The genie slashed his hand through the air, fire and magic leaving a trail of light hanging in the air. “FUCK OFF, YA DIZZY BITCH!”
Dakota vanished, blinked out of existence. Her shadow in the firelight hung against the wall for a heartbeat, then it shriveled and flew off, ash caught in the updraft of a bonfire.
Gene took a deep and frustrated sigh, taking off his cap and running his smoldering hand through his black hair. “I tell ya, dis job is so much easier when creeps get a wish. They ask for a million bucks or their buddy’s wife, I make it happen, ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom. I gotta bring dis up at the next -”
His monologue was interrupted by the golden bottle smashing over his head. He fell to the floor, stunned and bleeding, glowing liquor and glass shards flying into the carpet. Hank jumped on Gene’s back and got him in a chokehold, squeezing for all she was worth. “BRING HER BACK!” she screamed. “I WISH FOR YOU TO BRING HER BACK! I ORDER YOU TO BRING HER BACK!”
They fought on the floor, Hank using every dirty trick she knew to hurt the genie, but he was a foot taller and over one hundred pounds heavier. Also, he was an eternal spirit of pure magic, while Hank was a petite young woman with no formal combat training. It didn’t take long for Gene to get the advantage. He grabbed Hank by the throat with his right hand and slammed her against the wall, hard enough to knock a painting to the floor.
Stunned, Hank nevertheless tried to fight, scratching at Gene’s golden arm and kicking for all she was worth. Gene rolled his eyes at the display, deeply irritated, then waved his left hand. “Calm. Down.” Hank realized what was happening and tried to fight it, but still felt a bucket of ice water poured over her anger. She stopped fighting, struggling instead not to cry.
“Hank, darlin’, I’m not a bad guy.” Gene’s tone was soft, soothing, conciliatory. “I’m just tryin’ ta do my job. I didn’t hurt yer sweetheart, I promise. But rules is rules - can’t have nobody tryin’ ta pull no monkey business on a Union Genie. We got an image to maintain.”
“She’s safe and sound. She’s just off doing her mission, like a good Mormon girl.” A photo appeared in his left hand, like a stage magician, and he passed it to Hank.
“See?”
The picture showed an idyllic tropical town, one of those sleepy tourist towns on some distant island, white beaches and green mountains in the distance. Dakota was in the center of the frame, dressed in a white collared shirt and black slacks, nametag pinned to her pocket and Bible in her hand. Her expression was of complete shock, like she had no idea where she was or how she got there. “Greetings from Puerto Ayora, Galápagos Islands,” was printed on the shot in colorful letters.
“She’s gonna cool her jets fer a while,” Gene continued, “spread the good word ‘til a year from March. Plenty of time fer you and Emma ta figure things out, maybe squeeze out a kid. Or you can just roll things back when your paperwork goes through in a couple a’ weeks. Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass no more.”
He waved his left hand again. “But until that happens, you’re gonna go get what you want, ya follow?” Hank was lowered to the floor and Gene released his grip. She fell to her knees, struggling to catch her breath after being half strangled. “I’ll come see ya when yer cancellation comes through and we’ll settle up. Stay outta trouble til then.” He walked out the front door and was gone.
An hour later, Hank arrived at Emma’s doorstep, bruised and blubbering. They retreated to Hank’s car, where Rose couldn’t see, and she told Emma everything that happened, crying the whole time.
“...and now she’s trapped halfway across the world, and I can’t reach her! I tried her phone, her email, socials, everything! I couldn’t find a single picture or video - the fucking genie erased her from the internet! All I have is the stuff on my phone…”
Emma squeezed Hank tight, let her cry. “We’ll figure it out, Hank. There’s gotta be a way to reach her - a hotel phone or something. Puerto Ayora can’t be that big.”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right.” Hank wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together. “I can pull some money together, fly to Ecuador. I can work extra shifts at Naked Pull, do a subathon on the stream, maybe do some solo camshows. Heck, I probably have fans in Ecuador that could help track her down. I’ll find her, I’ll bring her home.”
“We’ll bring her home,” Emma corrected.
“Thank you Emma.” There was a pause, Hank wiping at her nose with a glovebox napkin. “Listen, Emma… would it be ok if I stayed here for a few nights? The apartment is way too empty all by myself.”
“I dunno…” Emma tapped at her chin playfully. “I’ll have to run it by Rose, see what she thinks about a sleepover with Auntie Hank. Why don’t you pack a bag and come home with us after the escape room tonight?”
Hank returned to the apartment, packing her clothes and toiletries, taking a quick shower and putting on her work costume. She left as quickly as she could; there was a vibe in the place that made her hair stand on end. Instead, she brought her laptop to the escape room and spent the afternoon researching the Galápagos.
The arrival of Emma and Rose finally brought Hank some joy. Half an hour of playing dinosaur doctor gave her the strength to get through the work shift, and Seductra the Sorceress did her damndest to help the clueless adventurers solve the puzzles in their allotted time. Emma ordered pizza for dinner, and a few greasy slices of pepperoni between groups further soothed Hank’s nerves.
Emma was so kind, so thoughtful. She was a good friend, a great mother, a beautiful woman…
Hank paused, mid-slice, feeling what was coming. She tried to talk herself down, tried to remember Dakota trapped on that island - but Dakota was far, far away. It might be months before she could locate Dakota, months before she could save the money to bring Dakota home. Emma was right here, right now, and she wanted Hank as much as Hank wanted her.
She hoped Dakota would understand.
When they arrived at Emma’s sister’s house, the couch was made up for Hank, Jane already asleep. Rose gave her the grand tour, showing off all her dinosaur stuffies and wall of art from kindergarten. Everyone got ready for bed, and Hank read Rose her bedtime story, doing silly voices and making her giggle. Emma and Hank then spent a few minutes talking in the living room, brainstorming ways to get Dakota home… and pretending Hank was going to sleep on the couch.
She waited half an hour before padding to Emma’s room, making sure Rose was fast asleep. The door was ajar, no chance of a creaking knob alerting anyone. Emma was waiting, wide awake, erect nipples visible beneath the cotton sheets.
Hank took off her pajamas, took off her panties, and stood naked before her. “No promises, Emma,” she whispered. “I love Dakota, and I’m going to find her. I’m going to tell her everything we did, and if she’ll still have me, I’m going to be with her. Ok?”
Emma nodded. “No promises.”
With that, Hank pulled back the sheets and looked at Emma’s naked body. God, she was beautiful. She lay down and they kissed, hands in each other’s hair. Emma pressed into her, gently grinding against Hank’s thigh, moaning into her mouth as their tongues swirled. She shifted, sliding down to suck on Hank’s right breast, which made her shiver with pleasure.
Hank moved a hand to her pussy as Emma sucked, rubbing at her clit. Emma came up for air after a minute, smiling. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.” She paused. “Actually, I guess I’ve only wanted to do that for weeks. It’s hard to believe that you weren’t always so beautiful…”
She was silenced by a fluid-smeared finger to her mouth. “Emma, hush.” Hank pressed the finger into Emma’s mouth, the woman making a little yummy noise at the taste. “Does that taste good? Do you want some more?”
Emma nodded, eyes full of hunger. They kissed one more time then she slid downward, taking a moment to suck each nipple before continuing to Hank’s pussy. She ran a finger along her wet slit, kissed her clit once, twice, three times, then began to lick and suck. Hank whimpered at the sensation, spreading her legs and gripping Emma’s braids while groping her own breasts.
She looked down, watching Emma writhe beneath her, street light shining through the window onto her body. The woman radiated power and beauty, raw sexuality, a naked goddess - and Hank wanted to worship at her altar. She rose and turned, frantically twisting to reach Emma’s sex, and pressed her lips to it, tongue savoring its tang as she explored.
Locked together, bodies in motion, their orgasms in unison, each woman trying to give back the pleasure they were receiving. Emma came first, thighs squeezing Hank tight as her whole body lit up, lightning running up and down her spine. She lapped at Hank’s pussy like a woman possessed, fingers teasing as she worked, and before long Hank had to bury her face in a pillow to stifle her moans.
They were soon snuggled tight, kissing and smiling in the secondhand light. “You’re good at that,” Emma panted, still humming from post-orgasm bliss. “A gift from Dakota?”
Hank beamed at the compliment - then realized it was kind of a slam. “I was sexually active before my life went nuts, thanks. Don’t you remember Marissa or Paige or Courtney? Moderately handsome theater guys get tons of pussy, nerd hobbies or not. I oughta get a trophy, I’ve eaten so much box.”
Emma giggled at that. “We’ll put it up on the mantle. You can explain to Rose how you won it.”
They laughed and joked a little longer, then cleaned up and put on their pajamas. Thirty minutes later, they were asleep in each other’s arms.
Plane tickets, hotels, food, travel, guides - Hank figured she’d need to raise around ten thousand dollars if she was going to find Dakota any time soon. That was a tall order, but not impossible when you looked like she did. She made Rose some breakfast, then the three of them got more clothes and Hank’s streaming rig from the apartment.
She set up in the basement, Jane giving up her sewing nook so Hank could start her subathon. She streamed all day in a blue bikini, setting whatever sexy subscriber goals she could think of that wouldn’t violate D-pad’s terms of service. The subs and tips rolled in, and Hank only stopped when it was time to get ready for the escape room. Emma and Hank helped the brave adventurers, brought Rose home for bedtime, spent some time in bed themselves, then went to sleep.
For a whole week it went on like this. Hank hustled from dawn til dusk, shaking what Dakota gave her to make extra cash. She flirted hard at Naked Pull, giving every dumbstruck guy a pretty smile and a touch of the hair, leaning forward to point her tits towards the tip jar.
She begged Zack for an advance on her next paycheck. He said no, then lent her five hundred bucks out of his wallet. Hank was very open to getting folded up on the couch after that, but held off - Emma likely had different views on bedding the boss, and Hank needed to know exactly what those were before she let Zack fuck her again.
She used her heartbreak and longing as character motivation for Seductra during her escape room shifts. Hank had never been much for method acting, but it really seemed to help. The players were more invested, more focused - they even solved some of the trickier puzzles without Emma having to jump in and save them. Between that and the “premium photo opportunities” Hank offered, the tips more than doubled each night.
She streamed and streamed and streamed, an endless boobalicious subathon, milking cows and slaying dragons in a slingshot bikini and cat ears, whispering guy’s names into her microphone for fifty bucks a shot. Hank’s viewership numbers exploded, and she started getting sponsorship offers for all sorts of crazy shit - mattresses and supplements and memecoins and lingerie. A number of fans from Ecuador helped her plan her trip and translated for her as she called hotels on the island.
All the while, without really noticing, Hank started to settle in with Emma. Her clothes were hanging in the closet, her toiletries were in the bathroom. After the third night, no one bothered to make up the sofa. They cooked dinner together before work, put Rose to bed together after. They fucked every night, hungry for each other’s bodies, neither of them wanting to say out loud that their time together was short.
After a few nights, Hank quietly explained to Emma that she had certain… needs in the bedroom. “Most of the time, I want to be an equal partner in this relationship. Open and honest discussion, no big decisions unless we make them together, everyone gets an orgasm.”
Blushing, eyes averted, she added, “But… every once in a while… I’m gonna need you to force my head between your legs, call me a good girl, and tell me I’m your perfect little pussy eater.”
Emma nodded, a dirty smile slowly creeping onto her face. She pulled up Hank’s chin to stare into her big green eyes. “I can make that happen.”
In the end, it took less than two weeks for Hank to pull the money together. She was a little shocked at how quickly she’d raised it; it would have taken her months to save up ten thousand dollars in her old life. Then again, she reasoned, guys wouldn’t have been nearly so excited to see her in a slingshot bikini before.
Hank took the next Saturday off from Naked Pull - leaving some other poor barista to don the pasties - and started making travel arrangements. Emma soon joined her, the pair pouring over booking websites and travel blogs, building a plan of attack to bring Dakota home. They worked diligently for hours, Rose coloring or watching tablet beside them.
As lunchtime approached, Hank reflected on everything Emma was doing for her. Finding Dakota, bringing her home… well, it probably meant the end for them. As wonderful as the past two weeks had been, Hank still loved Dakota and still wanted to be with her. She’d inserted herself into Dakota’s life, turned the woman’s world upside down, and when the truth came out… she was still Dakota’s hunny bunny. Dakota had stood by her, faced down a raging genie for her, got blasted halfway across the world for her.
Hank didn’t know how much of what she felt for Dakota was natural, and how much of it was magic, but in the end none of that mattered. A woman who gets teleported for you is a woman you keep.
Emma knew all that, knew what was coming, and was helping Hank anyway. A woman who does the right thing, even though she knows it’s gonna break her heart, is also a woman you keep.
The most honest thing was probably to use the reversal when it came in and roll everything back. That would stop either woman from getting hurt… but would leave Hank with two holes in her heart instead of one. Plus, there was no guarantee Emma and Dakota would forget what had happened. Gene had implied everything would return to how it was before the wish, but Hank wouldn’t trust that lying sack of golden shit any farther than she could throw him. That would be a nightmare - all three of them knowing what could have been, unable to have it.
It wasn’t fair to anybody. Hank wished she could be in two places at once, live both the lives waiting for her. Maybe she should have tried to get a larger settlement…
She blinked. Maybe she could sue Gene. Maybe she could sue the Genie Union. They had clearly fucked her over, spoiled her wish from the last case. If she could win a second one…
The doorbell rang, and Rose ran to answer it. They heard the front door open, and then there was a long silence. “Rose?” Emma called from the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?”
“It’s a big robot, mama,” Rose shouted back. “He says he’s here to see Auntie Hank.”
Emma stuck her head out of the kitchen to say something, then screamed at the top of her lungs. Hank popped out to see her scoop up Rose, shielding the girl from the combat droid in the charcoal suit that stood in the doorway. Blue light shot from its face, scanning Hank up and down.
“Ah, Mr. Hamilton! Just who I wanted to see!” The robot entered, crouching to avoid banging its featureless head on the eight foot ceilings. It extended a titanium claw to Hank. “Are you free for lunch?”
“Hank, what the fuck is going on!?” Emma shouted from the floor, gripping Rose tight.
“Mama, no swearing!” the girl scolded.
“Emma, it’s ok - this is my lawyer.” Emma looked up, incredulous, and Hank shrugged. “Magic stuff.” She crossed the room and shook the claw. “And it’s Ms Hamilton.”
“Sorry, Ms. Hamilton - updating. Alright if I call you Hank?” The robot offered Emma a claw, which she very cautiously took. “My apologies for the intrusion, Ms. Whitaker, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m JX926 Hunter-Killer Mark Nine, Attorney at Law. You can call me Jay.” He helped the confused woman to her feet, then scanned her and the girl. “And you must be Rose! Hello Rose, I’m Jay!”
“Did you used to kill people?” she asked, keen to learn more about her new metal friend.
“Depends on your definition of people,” he replied noncommittally, then turned back to Hank. “Actually, Hank, while we do need to discuss your case, I’m here on behalf of another client…”
Twenty minutes later, Emma’s minivan pulled into the parking lot of Casa Desenlace. Rose sat piggyback on Jay’s shoulders as they approached the front doors, the patio diners and other mall shoppers entirely failing to care about the huge metal robot headed their way.
“How come no one is freaking out?” Hank asked, worried that it was just a delayed reaction and mayhem would erupt at any moment.
“Attorney - Client privilege,” he replied. “This is official court business. If I showed up for a casual lunch, they’d be very upset.”
The greeter smiled at the group as they entered, head tilting up to look Jay eye to lack-of-eye, then led them to a private room. Hank entered first - and was immediately scooped up into a bear hug.
“HUNNY BUNNY!” Dakota spun Hank around, showering her with kisses. “Oh my god, I was so worried! That stupid genie didn’t hurt you, did he!?”
Hank was frozen with shock for a moment, then squealed with delight and kissed her back. “Hurt me?! What about you!? You got trapped halfway across the world! I couldn’t reach you, I couldn’t find you! I was so scared!” She started to cry a little, the relief of seeing Dakota safe overwhelming her, and they just held each other tight for a moment.
Once they’d both calmed down, Dakota moved to Emma and gave her a big hug as well. “Thank you for taking care of Hank. I knew she’d be in good hands.”
Emma shifted uncomfortably. “Of course. Happy to do it.”
Everyone sat down, Hank putting Rose into her booster seat. Questions rose up on everyone’s lips, but the waitress entered from the back door for drink orders. Once she’d written it all down and left, Dakota started in.
“So, I drink the Djinn, tell the Genie to pound sand, and he zaps me. Suddenly I’m standing in front of a camera in missionary attire - guy’s missionary attire, good job dude - some place I’ve never seen before. I’m surrounded by a buncha eager Mormon kids, ready to spread the good word, not the least bit surprised I just popped up in the middle of them.”
“Apparently I’m sister Dakota, a troubled teen in the middle of a mental health crisis. My dad sent me with them to the Galápagos, and they’re gonna make sure I overcome my sickness through the power of Jesus!” She shook her head. “They start heading back to the bus for their mountain retreat camp - no electricity, no phones, just like in the time of Christ - when that clown Gene appears. He says I made him look bad in front of his Union brothers, so he’s gonna ‘learn me a lesson’ by sticking me on this rock for a year.”
“We were coming to get you,” Hank insisted. “I’ve been raising money for weeks to buy plane tickets and hire guides. We had a whole plan put together!”
Dakota kissed her on the cheek. “I bet you worked your ass off. Thank you, hunny bunny.”
“No swearing!” Rose warned.
“Sorry kid. I bet you worked your butt off. Anyway, I had the same idea - figure out some way to escape the moment the genie fu- heads off, but the moment he does leave, out pops Jay here.”
The robot nodded. “I was aware of Ms. Wright-Simmons’ situation from discovery in your case, Hank, so I made sure to be on-site when she arrived. Your genie was entirely outside of his legal boundaries when he attacked her. Disrespect to the Genie Union is not a teleportable offense; it was a clear violation of her rights - not to mention kidnapping, trafficking across dimensional lines and assault with pure magic.”
“I immediately got Ms. Wright-Simmons to safety, contacted the authorities, and filed a lawsuit on her behalf against the Genie Union. We’ve been dealing with the litigation since then, but I’m happy to report that the Union settled this morning - standard three wish payout, as per Section 22-107(b) of the Sexy Story Code.”
“Three wishes?!” Emma looked between Jay and Dakota. “How come Hank only got one?”
“Well, my fee for time and expenses is one third of the settlement,” Jay explained.
“Plus there’s taxes,” Dakota added. Emma considered the answer, baffled, and eventually just shrugged.
“Good for you, sweetie!” Hank squeezed Dakota’s hand, then paused. “What are you gonna wish for?”
Dakota squeezed Hank’s hand back. “Oh, that’s easy. I’m gonna wish for my hunny bunny!” She nodded to Jay. “Bring him in.” Jay clapped his claws together, and the back door opened again.
A gang of the lumpy process monsters marched in, making Emma shriek and Rose clap. They hauled a heavy iron chain between them, and after a lot of tugging and hissing Gene emerged, dressed in a waiter’s tuxedo, collar around his neck. He had a tray of drinks over one shoulder.
“Dis is mortifyin’,” he bitterly complained. Scowling, he walked around the table serving drinks. “Margarita fer Hank, Diet Coke fer his gal, apple juice fer da little lady, transmission fluid spritzer fer da shyster…” He stared down Dakota, furious, but she just smiled and tapped the table in front of her. “And a Djinn martini fer da Bitch.” He placed the glowing drink before her with bad grace.
“That’s slander,” Jay warned. “I think you’re in enough trouble already.”
“Oh let him talk,” Dakota said dismissively, “as long as he gives me what I want - with no monkey business.”
“I got ya monkey business right here…” he mumbled.
“Dakota, sweetie, before you drink that… we need to talk.” Hank glanced at Emma, silently apologizing for the awkward conversation to come.
“You want to be with Emma,” Dakota said matter-of-factly. “You slept with her while I was gone. Gene made sure to tell me before he left, just to twist the knife.”
“I did sleep with her. I’m sorry. I’ve got all kinds of excuses, none of them justify cheating on you. But I still want to be with you - I’ve been doing everything I could think of to get you back! If you could just give me another chance…”
Dakota shook her head, smiling. “Yeah, you want to be with both of us, walk both paths at once. You want a carefree life, working sexy jobs then coming home to a hot girlfriend you can make…” She glanced at Rose, watching the scene with rapt attention. “...videos with, but you also want a life partner and a real family with children, a cute condo and a Subaru Outback. You can’t have both, and once you pick you break somebody’s heart. It’s an impossible problem…”
She picked up her drink. “You’d need some kind of magic to solve it.” With a toast to the table, she drank, slowly, savoring the supernatural flavor. When the last drop crossed her lips, Dakota gave a deeply satisfied ‘ahh,’ set the glass back down, then picked out the apple peel and chewed.
“That was pretty good,” she said conversationally. “You’re a shit genie, Gene, but you’re a hell of a bartender.”
“Get bent,” he snarled.
Hank looked around, confused. She didn’t feel any different, didn’t see any changes. She glanced at Emma and Rose across the table. Emma’s eyes threatened to pop out of her head from shock, staring at something Hank couldn’t see. Rose was giggling, delighted at the same sight.
“What?” she asked. “What happened?”
“I don’t get it either,” Hank said from Dakota’s right. “What are they staring at?”
“Don’t worry about it, hunny bunny.” Dakota turned to kiss Hank, their lips parting as they embraced.
Hank smiled at the sight, glad everything had worked out with Dakota and Hank. She’d been worried for a minute there. She moved to sit with Emma and Rose, but Emma was still just staring at the couple. Hank squeezed her hand and she jumped. “Emma, sweetie, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Two aunties!” Rose laughed and laughed.
Finally, she got the nerve to speak. “You… you can’t do that…”
Dakota turned to her, eyebrows raised. “Of course I can. It’s my wish. I play the tune, everyone else dances.”
Gene nodded grudgingly. “Finally, one of ya gets it…”
“Of course…” Dakota added ominously, “I could always take it back. She only strayed because dummy here used magic on her. If I forgive her, she’d be true to me forever. Mine… and mine alone…”
“Emma, what’s going on?” She turned at Hank’s voice, saw her beautiful girlfriend staring at her in confusion. “What’s the problem, hon?”
“...Nothing, Hank.” Emma reached out, touching Hank’s face, then kissed her. “Nothing at all.”
“Alright, with that done, there are a few details to work out.” Jay produced a briefcase and pulled out a large stack of paperwork. “Mostly boilerplate stuff, but it all needs to be settled before we can collapse this pocket dimension and re-enter standard spacetime. I assume you’re fine with being identical twins?”
They looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure,” one Hank said, with the enthusiasm of someone choosing between sides at a restaurant. He slid a paper towards them and they signed. “Alright…” Jay thumbed through the stack. “We’ve got division of work forms, history synthesis authorization, soul replication…” He waved a claw, yadda-yaddaing the rest of it. “A bunch of stuff. We should order lunch before we get too deep into this…”
Two hours and one sizzling fajita meal later, it was all done. One of the process monsters notarized all the forms and carried them off in a waterproof case, while Jay passed out identity documentation to the Hanks. “Be sure to shred the old stuff when you get home. They should evaporate as the new reality takes hold, but better safe than sorry.”
“Sure thing Jay.” Hank and Dakota stood up, shaking the robot’s claw. “Thanks for everything.”
He shrugged. “Happy to help. It’s cases like this that make the job worth it.”
They moved around and gave Hank and Emma hugs as they got ready to go, Rose asleep in her mother’s arms. “Now remember,” Hank said as she put on her coat, “you girls are always welcome at our place, and we will watch Rose anytime. I’m your official babysitting Auntie!”
Dakota turned, alarmed. “Well, hold on a sec -”
Hank grabbed her by the collar, eyes burning. “It’s either babysitting or a baby, darling. There’s no third way.”
“Anytime!” Dakota frantically agreed. “We’ll have princess parties and sleepovers and go to the zoo!”
“And speaking of babies,” Hank added to Hank, “You and Emma need to have a long and frank discussion with Zack about the future. If you’re serious about him putting a bun in your oven, you better figure it out quick. You’re not getting any younger.”
Hank put her hands up. “We have not made any decisions about that yet! Christ, I only had my first period last week!” There was an air of the lady doth protesting too much, but Hank let it slide… for now. With a final goodbye, Hank and Dakota headed back to their apartment.
“Well, that all worked out,” Hank commented as she watched them go. “I was afraid for a minute.”
“You’re ok with all this?” Emma waved her hands vaguely, trying to encompass all the madness they’d just witnessed. “You don’t wanna roll it back?”
Hank pulled her tight, arm around her waist. “The only thing I was afraid of was hurting somebody - and now that Hank and Dakota are together, the only person I can hurt is you. I assume you don’t want me to roll it back?”
“No thank you,” she murmured, snuggling close. “I got my wish.”
Hank turned to Gene, slumped in a chair, the process monsters listlessly tugging on his collar. “Hey idiot! You can rip up that cancellation form. I got what I wanted - no thanks to you.”
“Sit and spin, ya daffy duck!” Gene made a disgusting hacking noise, then spit a huge wad of golden phlegm on the floor. “I never got the chance ta submit ya damn cancellation form - the lawsuit ain’t been filed yet!”
Hank spun to Jay. “What does that mean!? We won the lawsuit months ago!”
“We sure did, Hank. It was a real slam dunk.” The robot pulled a second pile of paperwork from his briefcase. “However, at the time, I didn’t have sufficient evidence to actually file the lawsuit. I needed to build a paper trail from the court, to the Genie Union, to our friend Gene here.”
“His negligence in executing your wish was a clear violation of the terms of the settlement - and since he was acting as an agent of the Metafictional Court when he violated those terms, that makes the Universe liable. It’s an open and shut case; the Universe will have had no choice but to have already settled.”
“It’s entrapment!” Gene angrily protested. He tried to rise, only to be yanked back into his seat by the process monsters.
“But winning the lawsuit was what started all this!” Hank flopped into a chair, hands on her temples, trying to fathom the logic of it all.
Jay only shrugged. “Temporal Jurisprudence is a complex topic - I have two sub-personalities dedicated to handling the nuances. I’d avoid thinking about it actually; it’s a low level memetic hazard.” He patted his claw on Hank’s head, shaking her out of the mental spiral. “All that said, if you don’t like the outcome, I can withdraw the suit. That would void the settlement retroactively.”
Emma tensed, but Hank waved her off. “No, screw it. Let’s go. What do I have to do?” Emma slumped with relief, and Hank blew her a kiss.
Jay produced a pen from his breast pocket. “Just sign here and we’ll get started.”
Hank sat up and took the pen. She stared down Gene, who just shook his head and scowled.
Hank sat up and took the pen. She stared down Gene, who just shook his head and scowled.
“Ok, asshole…” She signed her name - Henrietta Josephine Hamilton - on the dotted line.
“I’ll see you in court.”
The End
Thank you for reading Bootleg Djinn by The Ethical Hypnotist!
Author’s Note:
Huge thanks to Sagesse for continuity and editing. Your last minute assistance was invaluable.
Special thanks to Neil Bimbeau for guidance and support.
Neil, you make me want to take my work to the next level - which is exhilarating and terrifying.
If you want to support me, Deluxe Editions of many of my stories, with include Text to Speech Audiobooks, are available at https://the-ethical-hypnotist.itch.io/