"What I want isn't important," the genie said. "You're the master."
Francis thought about his original task. "Okay, this is a little job. Clean up the attic into organized piles. Get rid of anything seriously... No wait, fix anything broken, and eliminate all the trash, then sweep. And put all that odd looking stuff, like the vials and the monkey's paw and all that over there." He pointed to a dark corner.
The genie sighed and suddenly everything was clean and organized. "Is this satisfactory?" she asked.
"Great! Yes," Francis said. He saw that a now-clean chair had been buried under the refuse, and he sat in it. "Come sit in my lap."
The genie rolled her eyes, but went to him and sat down, which his dick responded to instantly. "Tell me about your powers and yourself," he said, eyeing her cleaveage.
She considered the request for a moment, then said, "My name is Cheliba. I was created in the windstorms of the realm of air before your kind existed."
Francis cupped her breasts through the dress and started to massage them, which earned him a "Do you mind?" look from the genie, but she continued. "My powers are many. I can create items and servants, modify the emotions and thoughts and bodies of others, create illusions, change my own or another's size or visibility, and move myself or others to other locations very quickly."
Francis shook his head. "Wow! And you're my slave?!
"Yes," the genie said, and she lowered her gaze.
"What should we do?" said Francis.
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