Inside the lamp, the world was no longer the cramped, suffocating space it had once been. Instead of a tiny chamber barely large enough for Zahiris al-Miraj to stand within, it had transformed into something vast, an endless expanse of golden desert stretching as far as the eye could see. The fine sand, warm and soft beneath the feet, had swallowed the red silk floor that once lay beneath it. But it was not merely an empty wasteland—no, in the heart of this realm stood a palace, its white walls gleaming like polished pearl beneath the endless azure sky. Lush flora surrounded it, palm trees heavy with dates, vines spilling over with ripe grapes, and vibrant flowers perfuming the air with their intoxicating fragrance. High above, where the heavens should have been, the golden outline of the lamp flickered faintly, an ever-present reminder of it's true shape.
Within the palace, Zahiris al-Miraj lounged in a grand hall, an opulent space overflowing with exotic plants and scattered treasures. Gems of every color, from the most common stones to the rarest crystals, lay carelessly strewn about. Though it might have seemed as if the interior of the lamp had expanded, in truth, its dimensions had remained unchanged.
This was the second restriction he had discovered.
Before he had been summoned by that old man, Zahiris had spent his time experimenting with his newfound powers. At first, in a moment of weakness, he had accidentally conjured a cell phone, his addiction momentarily overpowering him. From there, he climbed the technological tree, crafting laptops, computers, televisions, gaming consoles—anything he had desired. He developed games, designed apps, even created artificial intelligences. But then, he encountered his first limitation.
When he attempted to fashion an advanced AI robot, his efforts ended in failure, yielding nothing more than a lifeless chunk of warm synthetic plastic clinging to an iron skeleton. Frustrated, he turned to more organic creations, attempting to mold true life. He fashioned a body, but it was an empty shell, barely responsive and devoid of thought. He tried birds, fish, insects—every form of living creature he could imagine—but they remained still and lifeless.
It was only when he turned to the simplest forms of life—grass, flowers, and trees—that he met with success. That was when he realized his greatest limitation: he could not create sentient beings.
Then came the second restriction. His experiments quickly cluttered the already finite space within the lamp, forcing him to erase his creations just to make room for more. And that when he found out expansion was impossible; the lamp's boundaries were unchangeable. But if he could not enlarge the space, then he would simply maximize its efficiency. He had shrunk himself and everything he wanted to keep, created every grain of sand, every drop of water, every brick to form his palace, a miniature utopia of indulgence. A kingdom filled with overflowing goblets of the finest wine, orchards brimming with fruit, and an endless array of sweet pastries crafted from his own extravagant whims.
Zahiris lounged on a velvet divan, his legs shifting lazily as he rested an arm over the back. In his free hand, he idly twirled a goblet of shimmering liquid, its surface rippling with an otherworldly glow. Around him, golden trinkets and relics lay abandoned, remnants of past summonings, past deals, past desires. His domain had grown fuller once more.
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, his golden eyes glinting with amusement.
"Now that was fun."
The goblet tilted in his grip, the glimmering liquid sloshing as if laughing with him.
—
I didn't expect that to be so amusing. Is it because I'm a genie?
My mind drifted back to the old man's wishes.
"For my first wish… I wish for the land around our village to bear food once more, so that we may no longer starve."
A twisted grin curled at my lips. I wonder if the sprouts have started dying yet? The wish had been simple, even noble—if only he had been more careful with his words.
"Food? Sprouts count, don't they? I made the soil fertile enough to feed them, but is it my fault if the radiation kills them first?"
A sinister chuckle rang out, low and amused. Oh, I was laughing.
My golden eyes flickered toward the figure standing before me.
She had long black hair that cascaded down her back, tanned skin that gleamed under the golden lamplight, and a red dancer's outfit that clung to her form like woven fire. In her hands, she held a silver tray, piled high with ripe grapes, their skins glistening with nectar.
This… this was the closest I had come to making a living being.
"What is it you require, Enslaver, Zahiris al-Miraj?"
The voice that escaped her lips was not human. No, it was familiar—cold, mechanical, yet undeniably feminine.
I grinned. So it worked after all.
Before I had been summoned, I had spent countless hours experimenting, testing the boundaries of my power. If I could not create sentient life, then why not a puppet? A vessel?
The answer had been obvious.
First, I conjured the CYOA Interface's crystal skull, a half sentient object of knowledge and obedience. It had floated, moved, and responded to my simplest commands—"Move left," "Float higher." But a skull alone was not enough.
So, I gave it a body.
Silk-like skin, joints that bent with grace, a voice laced with the echoes of the system itself.
At first, I expected failure. But it seemed I had underestimated the magic of genies, for the skull had taken full control of the body, wearing it like a second skin.
And now, here she stood—my creation, my servant.
I leaned back against the divan, my grin widening.
"Feed me a grape… and use your mouth~"
The woman obeyed without hesitation. She lifted a single grape from the tray, her slender fingers brushing against its smooth surface. Her lips parted as she placed it between them, her dark eyes locked onto mine—void of true thought, yet filled with perfect obedience.
I swirled the wine in my goblet, watching as the liquid shimmered like molten rubies. The scent of fermented fruit curled in the air, rich and intoxicating.
She stepped forward, kneeling before the divan, her hands resting on my thighs as she leaned in. Her lips met mine, soft and yielding, the grape pressing between us. I bit down slowly, the skin bursting with sweet, tangy juice that mixed with the lingering taste of wine on my tongue.
I deepened the kiss, savoring both the fruit and the sensation of control. Her warmth, her presence—it was a hollow mimicry of life, but even so, it pleased me. One hand tangled in her dark hair, tilting her head just so, while my other hand kept a firm grip on the goblet, never spilling a single drop.
The lamp's golden glow bathed us in its eerie light, the palace walls flickering as if watching. I pulled away just enough to see the remnants of crushed grape on her lips.
"Good girl." I smirked, taking a slow sip of wine. "Again."
She obeyed without hesitation, her dark eyes unwavering as she lifted another grape between her lips. Her breath was warm against my skin as she leaned in once more, pressing herself closer, her chest barely grazing mine.
This time, I didn't wait. My hand tightened in her thick black hair, pulling her in as I sealed my lips over hers. The grape burst between us, its juices mingling with the wine still coating my tongue. Sweetness mixed with the deep, heady bitterness of alcohol, and I let it linger, savoring every drop before coaxing her lips open wider.
My tongue slid into her mouth, slow and indulgent, tasting the remnants of the fruit, claiming the space as my own. She responded exactly as I expected—yielding, obedient, allowing herself to be molded by my desires. The wet heat of our mouths melded together, slick and hungry, the grape's fading flavor replaced by the intoxicating blend of wine and saliva.
I deepened the kiss, pulling her flush against me, my fingers trailing down the curve of her spine as her hands rested delicately on my chest. The motion made her shiver, though whether it was real or just another programmed response, I didn't care.
Tilting my head, I sucked lightly on her lower lip before biting down, enjoying the faint gasp that left her throat. I drank in the sensation, the soft press of her body, the warmth of her breath fanning against my cheek.
Slowly, I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, my golden eyes glinting with amusement. A thin strand of saliva still connected us, glistening under the lamp's eternal glow before snapping as I licked my lips.
"Not bad," I murmured, swirling the goblet in my free hand, letting the wine coat my tongue. "But we can do better."
I grinned, leaning in once "Again," I commanded, my voice low and husky. She complied without hesitation, her dark eyes locked onto mine as she grabbed a grape and leaned in once more.
This time when our lips met—when her mouth opened slightly to reveal the grape nestled between her teeth—my hand found its way into her hair again
I gripped it tightly as I deepened our kiss; the grape burst between us at just the right moment; its juices mingling with wine still lingering on both of our tongue
As we pulled apart slightly to catch our breath—her chest heaving against mine—I took advantage of the momentary respite from kissing by letting my hands roam freely over her bod
I started at her shoulders, my fingers tracing downwards along the curve of her arms, feeling the smooth silk of her skin beneath my touch. Then my hands moved to her waist—her hips—and finally settled on the soft swell of her breast
She gasped softly against me as I began to grope them roughly through the thin fabric of her dress.
My hands continued their exploration, squeezing and kneading her breasts with increasing fervor. Her breath hitched in response to my touch, her body pressing against mine eagerly.
"Come closer," I commanded, my gaze locked onto her near-lifeless eyes. Though her body reacted to my touch, she remained an empty shell—puppeted by two parties. But for now, that was enough.
I could feel the heat radiating from between her legs as she straddled me on the divan. My cock throbbed against my pants—hard and aching for release—but I wasn't ready yet.
I wanted to draw this out—to make it last until neither of us could take anymore.
So I continued my assault on her senses. My hands moved to the laces of her corset, tugging them loose with practiced ease until it fell open completely.
Her breasts spilled out—full and round—and I wasted no time capturing one pert nipple between my lips while pinching its twin roughly between two fingers. She gasped again but made no move to stop me.
She was mine—completely and utterly under my control—and I intended to make the most of that fact.
I switched sides—lavishing attention on her other breast.
I suckled on her nipple, my tongue swirling around the hardened peak as I pulled it into my mouth. She let out a soft moan, her body arching into mine. But just as her body seemed on the verge of losing itself in sensation, I released her nipple and leaned back.
"Let's change things up," I said with a smirk.
With a snap of my fingers, the room transformed around us.
The once-bright, airy chamber was now draped in rich, crimson velvet. Heavy red drapes hung from the ceiling to the floor like a luxurious canopy above our heads. Candles flickered into existence, their flames casting long shadows that danced across the walls.
The divan beneath us morphed into a large four-poster bed, its sheets silken and black as night.
And finally, with another snap of my fingers—our clothes vanished completely.
She gasped, her eyes instinctively widening slightly at it's sudden nudity—but she made no move to cover herself.
I grinned at her response—at least some part of this was affecting her like it would any other woman—and reached out
"Lie down," I commanded, my voice firm yet gentle. She obeyed without hesitation, her body melting onto the bed as if gravity itself had doubled.
Her dark hair fanned out around her like a halo against the black sheets—her dark skin contrasting against the dark sheets.
My eyes roamed over every inch of her exposed flesh before settling between her legs.
"Spread your thighs for me," I ordered next. Her knees fell open, revealing her glistening pink flesh to my hungry gaze.
I started at her neck—my fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw before moving down to caress the soft swell of her breasts. Her nipples hardened under my touch—dark peaks against dark skin—and I couldn't resist leaning down to capture one between my lips.
She gasped softly as I sucked and bit at her nipple—her back arching slightly off the bed. But she didn't try to free herself from my grip; instead,
she simply surrendered completely.
I took advantage of that surrender—my hand moving lower still until
I was cupping the heat between.
My finger slipped between her folds, finding her clit and circling it slowly. She moaned softly—her hips bucking slightly against my hand.
"Stay still," I growled, pinning her more firmly to the bed.
She froze—obeying instantly—and I rewarded her by increasing the pressure of my touch.
Her breath hitched in response—as did mine—but neither of us looked away from each other's gaze.
I wanted to see every reaction—to watch as pleasure played across her features.
So I continued to tease and torment her—my fingers moving faster now, slipping inside.
I added a second finger, stretching her as I pumped them in and out of her tight heat. Her inner walls clenched around me—trying to pull me deeper—and I could feel the wetness coating my hand.
She was so responsive—so eager—and it only served to fuel my own desire.
I needed more—needed to feel her wrapped around me completely.
So I withdrew my fingers and positioned myself at her entrance.
"Look at me," I demanded as I began to push inside. Her dark eyes met mine—wide with anticipation—and held them as I thrust into her—hard and deep. She gasped, but she didn't look away. I could feel her stretching around me, accommodating my size.
"Good girl," I grunted as I began to move—pulling out slowly before slamming back in. She moaned softly with each thrust—her body arching to meet mine.
I released her wrists and grabbed onto her hips instead—using them for leverage as I increased the pace of our fucking. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room—along with our ragged breaths and moans.
I could feel the pleasure building inside me—but more than that—I wanted to see it on her face too.
So with one hand still gripping her hip, I could feel every inch of her—her heat, her wetness—clinging to my cock as I drove into her again and again.
The sensation was exquisite—better than any pleasure i had experienced—and yet there was something more...
Something deeper that stirred within me as I watched her face contort with ecstasy.
Her dark eyes were locked onto mine—her full lips parted in a silent scream—and yet she still obeyed my every command without question or hesitation.
It was intoxicating—the power over this creature that had been born from nothing but magic and will alone—but more than that...it felt right.
As if this was what I had been missing all along—this connection, this control over another being's very existence.
I flipped her onto her stomach, lifting her hips with the pillow. "Ass up," I commanded.
She complied instantly—her dark skin glistening under the red candlelight as she presented herself for me.
Fucking into her from behind was pure bliss—her tight pussy gripping me like a vice with each thrust.
I gripped both cheeks firmly—spreading them wide for my own enjoyment. The sight of my cock disappearing inside her was almost enough to make me come right then and there.
But not yet.
I increased my pace—slamming into her harder and faster—our skin slapping together loudly in the otherwise silent room.
The pleasure built inside me—a familiar pressure at the base of my spine
Her moans filled the room, matching my own grunts of pleasure. Our bodies moved in sync, each thrust driving us closer to the edge.
I could feel her tightening around me, her body tensing as she neared orgasm.
Reaching around, I found her clit and rubbed it firmly. She cried out, her body convulsing as she came undone.
Her orgasm triggered mine, and with a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, groaning loudly.