the Wolf

Commissioned by Chris


The marketplace buzzed, trumpeted, squawked and even occasionally bellowed with life. Merchants of almost every shape hollered and haggled about and incredible variety of different wares ranging from foods to exotic clothing as Chris walked the main thoroughfare. He was searching for something that Julie would like, trying to listen through the cacophony for the call of some barker or other that might guide him towards a good homecoming gift. If he found the right present, it might just go a long way towards smoothing some of the bumps in their relationship. But he was also enjoying some of the simple charm of the walk through the old world market on the outskirts of Riyadh, and it was giving him plenty of time to think.

He and Julie had been together several years now and were beginning to feel a bit of the strain from his work and her adaptation to the culture. They had met in New York, when Chris had been on a business trip for the firm, and had seemed to fall instantly in love in the space of the couple weeks that it took for Chris to wrap up business. When he had been ready to return home, Julie was more than willing to start making arrangements to go with him to the small village that sat fifty miles from Glasgow.

Though on paper her dual citizenship had been relatively little trouble, in practicality, Julie had some trouble adapting to the differences she had not expected. For one, she had not expected the distance between towns and had been used the activities afforded by a large city. Still, Julie got along fairly well within the village and had a network of close acquaintances that had almost reached the status of friends. But the small village had been much more tight-knit than she had expected, and had taken a long time for her to feel even marginally accepted in the area. Despite the congenial politeness around her, Julie felt like an outsider half the time she had been there and continued to feel this separation in several parts of her day to day life.

Despite Chris’s attempts to help her adapt and cheer her at times, his constant traveling for work had been another difficulty. When he was gone, Julie felt even more isolated and alone, and there had been arguments about this which had been steadily increasing in frequency in the last few months. And lately they almost always seemed to occur shortly after he returned home.

At first there would be the welcome, in which they kissed and seemed simply happy to see each other. Then she would ask how the trip went, and after a brief summary of what he did, he would return with asking how the days had been for her. Invariably, Julie had had a rough time of it, and would start to casually wish that he could at least stay home more often if she had to be away from everything she truly knew. Even though he’d know it was coming, each time Chris would go on the defensive, feeling that his culture was being insulted and making the mistake of reminding her that it had been her choice to come along. From there the argument would always descend slowly into snide remarks that bordered on personal insults, and instead of spending the night together, as they’d both wanted while he was gone, they would wind up sleeping in different rooms.

This time, Chris was hoping to break the cycle. He’d show up with two presents in hand for Julie. One that he would hopefully find here, a simple souvenir from his trip, and the other he’d already purchased elsewhere. In one of their more intimate moments a couple years back, Julie had confessed a fantasy about being a powerful gypsy that somehow bewitched his mind and turned him into her slave… at least for a night. He had seen a sensual outfit of almost transparent veils and scarves in a shop in central Riyadh, where the firm had sent him this time. He’d purchased it almost immediately, the plan to avoid the typical fight forming in his mind.

He would come to the door and present her with whatever trinket he found here. When asked how the trip went, he’d say that it had simply been the typical business trip and then mention that he did see something else he thought she’d like. When she asked what it was, he’d show her the outfit and suggest that they role-play out her fantasy that night. With a little luck, she’d forget her frustrations and rush to the bedroom to try it on, and the night would end with the two of them lying together in their bed completely spent.

A kind of silly smile played across his face as a few idle fantasies about how the night might go played across his mind. When his mind came back into focus on where he actually was at the moment (narrowly avoiding bumping into a robed man that eyed him angrily) he noticed a small wooden awning peeking out from a squat square house. The rustic awning covered a small shelf filled with porcelain figures. Looking more closely, they seemed to display various different characters of Arabian legend and stories.

Chris moved closer, thinking he had found just what he was looking for. Julie had a small collection of figurines similar to these and adored folktales from just about anywhere. The olive skinned woman tending the shelf through a wide window was squat and stout, seeming to almost resemble her little house on the marketplace. She smiled as she saw Chris coming closer to the shelf and his eyes roaming over her wares.

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I interest you in any of these fine-made, hand-crafted sculptures?” she asked pleasantly, spreading her hands.

Chris smiled at that, having a genuine feeling that the figures were probably mass-produced somewhere, even if the mold was made off of an original sculpture. But he was willing to play along. To the woman’s credit, the figures had all been laid out without a single repeat and were positioned just right to appear hastily set out but so that each one was clearly individually visible. She was pretty good.

“Aye, I’m looking for something for my girlfriend. And we can continue in Arabic if you like. I’m fluent,” he said with his own smile.

“English is fine with me, sir. I’ve found it pays to speak many languages in my endeavor.”

“Well you certainly speak it well. Alright then, let’s see…”

And as he looked over the shelf, one of the figurines caught his eye. Standing at about a foot tall, it was cream-colored and with a fine glaze that made it almost look like china. It shined even more than some of the others, though it was completely unpainted. At the bottom, the figure started as an ornately decorated bottle, wide at the bottom but with a thin neck. At the top of the neck, where a cork might have gone, the sculpture flawlessly moved into a rendition of smoke flowing from the top, which made another flawless shift into the upper body of a genie appearing from the bottle. It was the face that caught Chris’s attention more than anything. There was something about the way it had been sculpted that made it seem so lifelike. He could clearly make out the mischievous smile on the genie’s mouth, and the eyes, even at a simple solid white, seemed to express the same feeling. Julie would love it.

“How much is this one?” he asked, picking it up and not taking his eyes off of the figure.

Taking a moment to look over what he had selected, the woman smiled. “You have a keen eye sir. That is a fine piece sculpted by one of Riyadh’s premiere artists of such items. I could part with it for eighty riyal.”

It was made by one of Taiwan’s premiere machines, thought Chris as he made a few quick calculations. Julie would still love it and it would be worth the little over twelve pounds he’d actually be spending to have something to give her. Though he knew he was expected to haggle with the woman down to about sixty-five riyal, Chris was realizing how late it was and that he still needed to pack for his flight home tomorrow.

“Sold,” he said and quickly put the eighty riyal on the small shelf where the figure of the genie had been.

The woman seemed a bit surprised, but simply scooped up the money from the shelf and took the figurine to wrap it and box it for its journey out of the marketplace. They thanked each other, and Chris quickly disappeared into the crowd, working his way back towards the city.



Ma’sma retreated back into the hut after the Westerner had left, counting out the riyal. It had been a rough morning, but this was a good start to the afternoon of selling. The man had bought the figurine without any hesitation or haggling, and she could only hope this was a good sign for the rest of the day.

In the small room where the safe waited, out of view of any passers-by, Ameen was clicking away on the laptop, working through the wireless connection to find a few more distributors and varying items to sell at the booth. It was not the greatest work, especially when he thought of his bloodline and the power they had once wielded, but when businessmen and tourists came by, it was an easy way to maintain a living and keep Ma’sma and himself fed. Besides, there was no longer much call for the work that his ancestors had once done for the powerful men of the world.

“Ah, first sale of the day?” he asked his wife as she came through.

“Yes, and he paid full price. Hopefully the afternoon will treat us well.”

Nodding, Ameen looked up at her. “This is indeed good. Where was he from?”

“Oh you know all the Westerners look alike to me. But the way he spoke, I’d suppose from somewhere around Britain if I had to guess.”

“Always good for buying a few souvenirs,” he said, turning back to his computer, “What did he buy? Was it one of the Scheherazade collection?”

“I believe so. It was the white one that you had at the back of the safe. The one of a d’jinn escaping his bottle. You should order more of them, judging from the way he looked at it. He almost immediately… Ameen, husband, what is wrong?”

Ameen was staring at her in a look of wide-eyed terror, his work on the computer completely forgotten. Slowly he set it aside and walked as if in a trance to where she stood next to the safe.

“The figure from the back of this safe? In the separate compartment?”

“Yes. I found it yesterday,” Ma’sma said, beginning to speak quickly, “I was reorganizing the safe and need a bit more room to place some of the spare riyal we keep. I found your key and the figure was inside along with a few trinkets. I knew the others were not items we sold, but I thought it was something you were planning to test in the booth, so I set it out today. Ameen, what is wrong? You look as though… Ameen! No!”

Ameen had raised his hand as if to strike her hard, his face contorting in rage. But he stopped himself seeing the fear and confusion on her face. It was not her fault. How could she know what he had never told her? And it was perfectly logical that she would want to help their business. Slowly, taking a deep breath, he lowered his hand and gently touched her cheek.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you never to take anything out of that compartment a long time ago. It was foolish of me not to trust you with at least that much information. And it is possible that your mind was… affected in some way. Now, Ma’sma, I will explain more later, but first we must find this man and find some way to get the d’jinn back. Think hard. What did he look like, exactly? Which way did he head after he left?”

“It is difficult. I do not know what this is about. But I will try. His skin was relatively pale. He had dark hair that was cut close to his head, much like many of the businessmen that visit. He stood just slightly shorter than you, but still fairly tall. I did not see his eyes very well; he spent most of his time looking down at the merchandise. He wore gray dress pants and a blue shirt, the sort with the buttons at the neck but not down the front.”

“That will do,” Ameen said, kissing her forehead moving to the safe, speaking as he opened and worked within it. “Close down the window. We are going to ask around the bazaar and find out if anyone has seen him. When we find him, we must offer anything and make him understand that it was a mistake that it was sold to him. Hopefully he is a reasonable man and not one of the more pig-headed Westerners with notions that they are always correct. And hopefully he has not already been influenced or said the wrong thing, because eventually he is likely to do so.”

“I don’t understand, husband. What is so important about this? Why are you so eager to get this thing back?”

“There is not time now, Ma’sma! You must trust me! We must track him, even if it means leaving the town. I will explain when I can. Now get moving!”

Ma’sma nodded slowly and began closing down the window. She was not sure if she would be able to find the man, he seemed to be in a hurry when he left and headed out of the bazaar.

“Ameen,” she said nervously as she finished closing the window and Ameen was sealing the safe, “what if we cannot find this man before he leaves for his home?”

Ameen shuddered visibly at the thought. “Then may Allah be merciful towards us.”



Driving into the small garage of the cottage he and Julie shared, Chris sighed happily. The flight had been long and crowded, and the service on the airlines seemed to diminish further and further with every trip. The one thing he had been thankful for was that he had not been trapped between two much larger individuals, as had happened on the flight into Riyadh.

After the flight, Chris had taken a few moments to stretch his legs (mostly spent gathering his baggage and making his way to the parking structure) but was eager to get back home. The Citroen was normally comfortable and he had bought it for that reason as well as the fact that it had been relatively affordable, but during this drive it felt almost as cramped as the plane had. In the hour that it took to get home, Chris could not help but reflect that his feelings might be based on the fact that this was the first homecoming he wasn’t dreading in a long time. He had a plan this time and was actually looking forward to seeing how well his gifts worked out. He was thinking of Julie’s smile and pushing the speed limit this time, rather than treasuring the last few moments before the inevitable argument. It had felt right. It had felt like it had been when they had first gotten together.

And now, as he was walking up to the door, rolling his suitcase behind him and carrying the box that held Julie’s new figurine, he felt the excitement build.  It was good to be home, good to be looking at his own front door again, good to know there was a beautiful brunette waiting for him to arrive inside. Slipping his key into the lock, a million fantasies of the coming night passed through his mind… along with the first hint of worry.

Just as he was about to turn the key, he had a moment of wondering if this night would be any different than any of the others. He pictured the old fight, replayed in his current clothes, adding in a few extra choice expressions and the possibility that items might even be broken in anger this time. Or that maybe he would open the door and see a sour look already on Julie’s face that no surprises would erase this time.

Well, you could always just stand out here, or spend the night in the Citroen, he thought, or you could stop being such a girl’s blouse and give it a chance. It’s going to be fine.

Smiling a little at how silly he was being, Chris opened the door and called inside as he dragged the suitcase over the threshold.

“Home, pet!”

Julie came around the corner in a nice dress covered by an apron, smiling as she saw him and walking quickly to him. Her blue eyes were bright and her hair hung perfectly back, shining and just barely resisting framing her face. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him in welcome, Chris felt the heat from her lips seem to travel down his body. It fluttered for a moment at his heart and continued its way down to his groin as her body pressed to his momentarily. And after just a moment, she broke contact again, still smiling at him. It was then that he could smell something cooking.

“Just in time. The shepherd’s pie is almost done. I’ve got to go check on it, so just sit down and relax for a minute, dear.” She kissed him again. “So good to have you home.”

“I’ve been sitting for the better part of a day, pet. I think I’ll just stick by you. I really missed you.”

“Suit yourself,” she returned, still smiling at him and even giving him a little wink.

Chris smiled and began to follow her as she headed back towards the kitchen. The smell was delicious and was helping the warm feeling that was growing inside. But something seemed to be missing, and as Julie bent to check the oven, Chris realized what it was. Julie hadn’t asked him how the trip had been. Not one word about it other than to say that she was glad to see him. Chris almost burst out laughing. Cooking the dinner, not asking the usual first question; both were Julie’s version of the two gifts Chris had found on his trip. They had been thinking along the same lines.

Still smiling, he set the box on the corner of the table next to the kitchen, which was already set with two places, and walked in to where Julie was standing now, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her ear. As long as he’d known Julie, attention to her ears never failed to get her excited, and the reaction seemed to be no different today.

“I got you a couple gifts on the trip,” he said, with another kiss to her ear. “I want to show you the first one now.”

“Really? So that’s what you had there. Hmm, so just what’s in the box?”

“You’ll just have to come to the table for a moment and find out.”

Grinning at this, Julie followed him in. Already things were going so well. He watched as she opened the box, waiting in anticipation as she began to unwrap the figurine and relaxing just a bit as he saw her eyes widening when she looked at the genie emerging from his bottle.

“Chris…” she said, pausing and turning it in her hands. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, where did you find it?”

“I had a little spare time and decided to check out one of those old marketplaces. I saw that and thought of you.”

Julie set the figurine down on the table, smiling as she looked at the detail, seeming to notice the same impressive facial features that he had.

“I love it, honey. Thank you so much!” She pecked him on the lips again and smiled playfully. “So what else didja bring me?”

Laughing along with her smile, Chris took her hand and kissed it, holding his lips to it for several seconds. “I think it’s best if you see it after dinner, pet. It’s kind of a dessert.”

“Tease,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him in that same joking manner before going to take the shepherd’s pie out of the oven.

Chris stayed in his seat at the table this time, sighing and smiling at how this was going. It was almost better than he had anticipated. As Julie returned with the dinner, he just smiled at her, looking at her face in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

The two of them ate to pleasant conversation, each of them gently steering the talk away from anything that might cause an argument. Chris couldn’t help but notice that they were both also eating lightly and rather quickly, until soon it was clear that they both felt sated enough for the time being and eager to move on with the evening.

“Now I think it’s time to show you the other gift I found,” Chris said, standing up from the table and taking Julie’s hand.

Oooh, I can’t wait!” she said, grinning in a way that always made him think there were all sorts of naughty ideas rolling around her mind. Her other hand had idly picked up the figure from the corner of the table, carrying it with her.

Chris laid his suitcase down where it had been left by the door, opened it, and removed the white box from the top. Handing it to her, he smiled and looked into her eyes. “When I saw this one, I thought about tonight. And that fantasy you told me about one time.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Julie opened the box. As she sifted through the cloth, working out just what it was, Chris could see the moment when Julie realized just what the outfit was. Her eyes widened and looked up at him, then narrowed just slightly, the grin on her face going to the next level. What had been a hint of suggestion became a clear expression of lascivious desire as she snatched the box from him and batted it lightly against his chest.

“You have a seat and wait right here mister. I need to go change.”

Feeling his own grin spread, Chris sat obediently down on the couch, watching Julie head towards their bedroom. Clearly she wanted to enjoy the full effect of her fantasy, and he was more than willing to wait for it just a little longer.



Julie entered the bedroom and sighed happily, admiring both the figurine of the genie and the outfit for a moment. She’d had no idea that Chris would come up with his own plans for tonight, but she felt he’d outdone himself. It was her opinion that from now on, all his homecomings should be like this in some way. And tonight, she was going to seal the deal in ways that she hoped would leave them both very, very happy, if a little exhausted. She wanted to toy with him as it happened in her fantasy and then just watch him sleep after he’d been completely spent. But first she had to get into the wonderful outfit.

She set the outfit and the figurine on the bed and began to get out of her clothes as quickly as she could. The whole time, she occasionally looked back at the figurine, those expertly crafted eyes almost seeming to look back at her.

Getting into the outfit that Chris had bought her seemed to take a bit more figuring. Then again, Julie had had similar experiences before with bits of more exotic lingerie and was eventually able to figure it out. She idly wondered if men had anywhere near the same problems with the clothes that were supposed to make them look sexy. She highly doubted it in the moment.

Her eyes found the figurine on the bed and picked it up, admiring it once more with a smile. It really was a nice piece; Chris had chosen well, and it made her happy to think that this was part of her collection now. Looking up from it, Julie checked herself in the mirror.

The veils and scarves suited her, accentuating her breasts and adding a certain mystique through one of the layers to her face. She spent a few moments and practiced some expressions that she hoped would drive Chris wild and add to the fantasy. She thought had found just the right sparkle to her eyes when they found the reflection of her belly, which she felt was starting to get a little pudgy. Julie turned to the side, seeing if she seemed any bigger than the last time she had truly checked and if it would spoil the effect at all. When she thought she did notice a difference, Julie sighed.

“I just wish I was a bit smaller,” she muttered to herself as she ran a hand over her belly.

As soon as the words left her mouth, there was a thrumming vibration in her hands and a flash of light around her. Julie screamed in surprise and then felt herself falling.



Hearing the scream from the room, Chris bolted out of his seat on the couch. As he reached the door, a thousand possibilities of what he might find ran through his head. He hoped that he would merely see Julie sitting on the floor, having simply tripped over something and that they would be able to laugh about it in a moment. But something about that scream had worried him; there was just a particular unsettling note to it.

As he opened the door, he saw the outfit he’d bought her laying on the carpet, the genie figure on its side amidst the sprawl. Looking around he couldn’t see Julie in the room at all, and the door to the bathroom on the right was open. There was no movement inside.


He thought he heard something like a faint whisper or mumble, but couldn’t make it out. As he looked around the room again, he saw something scurry out of the one of the veils that was sitting on the carpet and head to the wall. His eyes darted that direction, thinking he might have a vermin problem and that one had frightened Julie. Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

Standing next to the wall, at a height of just about two inches, was Julie jumping up and down and frantically waving her arms at him. He blinked a few moments, thinking he was seeing things, then looked again. There she still was, naked, tiny, looking around in fright and then waving up at him again.


He could barely hear her voice in a tiny mumble. He leaned down closer, able to hear her a bit better as he hunched towards the floor.

“J-Julie?” he stammered. “How… what… what happened?”

“I don’t know” she said, Chris realized that she was shouting at the top of her lungs to be heard. “I was standing in front of the mirror, there was a flash and I was like this! But this is impossible! It just can’t be! I thought I was dreaming when I looked around but… saw… veil… my….”

Her words were trailing out of hearing range as Julie began to get frantic, almost hyperventilating in panic. In his own shock, Chris was unsure just what to do, but he had to try to help her in some way.

“Julie? Julie!” he said to get her attention. She looked up at him, trembling slightly as his voice seemed to boom around her.

“I’m going to try and help you. For now, we should get you off the floor. I’m going to pick you up with my left hand. Nod if you understand what I’m doing.”

Julie nodded vigorously, holding as still as she could. Chris reached out slowly, trying not to frighten her and gently wrapped the fingers of his left hand around her. Without even realizing it, his right hand picked up the fallen figurine, more out of a habit of tidying up anything that fell than any real thought about it.

He carried Julie carefully to the table next to the kitchen, his right hand swing at his side with the sculpture still clutched in it. Setting her down slowly on top of the table, Chris leaned close to her so that they would be able to talk, his face filling her vision.

“Um… okay,” he said, unsure where to begin. “So what happened?”

“I told you,” said that tinny voice, “I was checking myself in the mirror, making sure I had the stuff on right; I was looking myself over and then, bam! I’m looking up at the bed and the dresser from under that damn veil. Then you came in and I knew I’d better get your attention before I got stepped on.”

“This just doesn’t make any sense though. Things like this don’t happen. If you’d combusted, at least there’d be some kind of precedent but…”

He’d trailed off, and Julie looked sadly at him. It was already occurring to both of them that unless they figured something out, she might just be stuck this way. But nothing was leaping to mind and Chris slumped to the table, putting both hands up on the surface. As he did, Julie looked over at the figurine and her tiny eyes widened.

“There!” she shouted, pointing. “That thing! I think that had something to do with it! I felt it vibrating right before it happened.”

“This?” Chris said incredulously, looking at the sculpture in his hand, “But it’s just a piece of china or some such. How could it do this to you?”

“I don’t know! I was just standing there, thinking about how I’d rather not be slowly gaining weight, and then this happened!”

Chris looked at her, could see her wheels trying to turn just as much as his own were right now. He sat back in the chair in frustration as they both tried to think, his arms hanging at his sides, the figure still clutched in his hand as he let out a long sigh. As much as he was confused and scared for Julie and about what could cause this, part of him was merely frustrated that his perfect homecoming had been ruined.

“I just wish I knew what to do about this,” he said, feeling utter futility creeping in on him.

And at that moment, his hand seemed to hum for a split second. As it did, ideas began to flood his mind. Sure, this was a tight spot, but he could at least make the most of it. They were going to play with one of her fantasies tonight, but Chris had his own fantasies, a few rather dark ones that he’d shut in the back of his mind for a while. And if the opportunity was there, why not have a little fun with them? Just a little light role-playing until they sorted out Julie’s problem. They could still make the most of this homecoming. Why not? They’d just solve Julie’s little (he almost laughed right in front of her at that one) problem.

“Well,” he said as he leaned forward to her again, idly setting the figure down, “since we can’t really do anything about this now, I know a way we can have little fun. I’ve always had this fantasy that I’d like to play around with…”

“What?” Julie’s tinny voice said as she saw the lusty, playful look in his eyes. “Where the hell did that come…?” But she trailed off before she could finish that famous question. Suddenly the pieces were starting to fit for Julie, and she was pretty sure exactly what had happened.

But Chris wasn’t listening. Hadn’t even noticed that he’d been interrupted. He stared at her with clear longing and went on with his wonderful idea.

“You see in the fantasy, a woman is a delicious little morsel, just bite-sized. I can tease her, smell her, taste her, and she’s so delicious. So I just eat her up.” He stopped and licked his lips theatrically in the same lusty that he often did when he was slowly working his tongue up her thigh. “And you always taste so good, Julie. So delicious. And seeing you like this… just gets my blood up.”

“Chris, listen,” she shouted, trying to snap him out of the lusty trance he seemed to be in. She was already getting scared. “I think that thing somehow grants wishes. I said something about wishing I was smaller, and this happened. You wished you knew what to do and it gave you ideas. But it’s not doing what we actually want. Put it up here so that I can see if I can get back to myself. I think I know how to do it.”

Mmmm, no we can’t do that yet. I might never get another chance to do this. I won’t actually eat you of course. I just… I just want to roll you around in my mouth for a little bit. Just to taste you and imagine what it might feel like…”

Chris could almost already taste her as he looked at his girlfriend. And of course he would never hurt Julie. But this would feel so good. Already he could feel himself getting hard, getting excited in a way that made all his other exploits with Julie seem to pale by comparison. He’d never wanted anything so bad in his life the way he wanted to taste her and feel her in his mouth. No, “wanted” was to light a word for this feeling. Coveted. He coveted her taste and feel with such intensity, he could never resist it.

“No, Chris, I don’t want to do that. You don’t seem like yourself. I think that thing warped your mind or something. Please… please, just set it back up here and let’s get back to normal.”

“But of course this is me, pet. I’ve always dreamed about this sort of thing. Just never thought I’d be able to do anything beyond licking you and imagining. Now I can really taste you though. Just trust me. I’ll make it fun for you too…”

“Chris! No!”

But even as her small voice shouted, Chris’s hand was slowly scooping her up and his mouth was opening. Julie looked into it, seeing the teeth and all the way back to his throat, panic beginning to grip her as he slowly pushed her inside. Soon she felt his lips seal around her waist, her legs left outside as his huge tongue began to run along her features.

Chris moaned in pleasure as he began to slowly taste Julie’s flesh starting at her face. He would just hold her here for a few moments, enjoy this sensation of her body on his lips, the wriggling and squirming she gave him that felt so real. Then he’d let her out of his mouth and see if she could wish herself back to normal. Chris had it all figured out and it wouldn’t go any farther than this, even as his tongue roamed across her shrunken breasts, rolling and teasing them on his tongue while her creamy thighs kicked outside his lips. His arousal was growing, and he slowly reached a hand down to his pants, rubbing himself through the cloth as he savored her flesh.

In the dark heat of the mouth, Julie whipped about violently as the tongue probed and tasted her. The feeling might actually have been erotic if Julie was not so terrified of how far this might go. She could not make herself as she was locked here in this darkness, and she had a terrible feeling as she heard the loud moaning around her that her lover was no longer able to truly control what he did. All Julie could do as the loud, wet slurping sounds filled her senses was hope that Chris would soon come to his.

The pleasure seemed to move throughout his whole body, and as Chris lapped at Julie’s upper half, he knew this was not quite enough. He had to feel her whole tiny body in his mouth, trapped there. After all, what could it hurt now? It was just her legs joining her top, then he’d let her after a couple minutes of tasting her whole body.

Slurping and sucking, pushing a bit with his fingers, Chris pulled the kicking legs in through his lips, sealing Julie completely inside his mouth. His cheeks bulged slightly; even at her current size Julie made quite a mouthful. He slowly rolled her about inside, licking and sucking gently at her like hard candy. The taste and the feeling were so intense, so wonderful. As he licked his lover all over, feeling her trapped struggles in his mouth, Chris freed his full erection, slowly stroking himself to the taste of his lover. He’d let her out soon, but now this felt too wonderful.

Julie let out a scream when her legs were pulled in with the rest of her, but she knew that it would go unheard. The huge mouth around her was like a sauna and she could feel the heat and the suction all about her as the tongue rolled her over and over. She was quickly losing all sense of direction, getting dizzy as she occasionally felt herself scraped against the hard teeth. Her body tried to flail, but the tongue seemed to curl her into a ball each time as it grew more difficult to breathe and think.

Moaning loudly around his succulent mouthful, Chris continued to steadily stroke himself at his table, but it just didn’t feel like enough. He knew what he really wanted, but he couldn’t have it because he couldn’t hurt Julie. But wait. Couldn’t he? If he just swallowed her for a moment, just swallowed her and spit her back up, how could that hurt her? He’d just suck her down his gullet real quickly, get that satisfaction as she hit his stomach, and then cough her up. Just put his finger down his throat right after he popped off.

Rolling her slowly and precisely, his lips occasionally opening as he moved her into the right position, Chris worked Julie around until she was pointed at and almost back to his throat. He knew it might be a tough swallow, but he could get her down. He was sure of it. Working his tongue and throat together, he could feel her body slowly slipping down in. It was tight going and as she passed steadily into his neck, he worried for one moment that he might choke on her. But soon, she was sliding into his gullet on her way to his stomach.

Occasional flashes of light entered the mouth as Julie felt herself rolled about and pushed into position. As everything still for a moment, she was able to get her bearings only to find out that her fears had come true and to feel the tight grip of the throat pulling her down. She tried to scream one last time, but knew that Chris could not hear her, knew that even if he could have, he was lost in whatever had happened to both of them. She began to black out as his throat truly claimed her and began to squeeze her like a soft vice, her mind leaving coherent thought for shear, unbridled panic.

Chris gasped in utter bliss. The familiar feel of his hand working slowly along his shaft combined easily as he felt Julie struggling down his gullet. He could feel her all the way through his neck, down through his chest and that wonderful moment when he felt her slide into his stomach. He came then sitting at the table, not caring for a moment about the mess that he made as his mind zeroed down to those two spots of pleasure. He breathed in ragged, shuddering gasps as his climaxed flowed and ebbed, the pleasure lasting longer than many recent orgasms he could remember.

As his pleasure finally began to recede, Chris was left with a warm afterglow that seemed to tingle all over his skin. His hand rested on his belly a moment, his tongue roaming his lips and still feeling that taste. He’d have to cough Julie up soon, and probably have to bring up a bit of shepherd pie with her. But he couldn’t just yet. He just wanted to sit for a few moments and enjoy the feeling as she moved around slowly inside him. He’d let her out soon enough. Even as he yawned, he knew this, that it would be just a little more time to feel her inside him.

Chris was sure that he would let her out in just a minute even as an exhausted sleep claimed him, and his stomach gurgled slowly processing his dinner and the bit of dessert.



“So will you tell me now, husband, what this is all about?”

Ameen and Ma’sma sat on the plane, waiting for it to take off. They had been unable to find the Western man, despite searching the entire bazaar and questioning the few people that had seen him. One of the other merchants had remembered the man, however, and had directed them towards the city proper. As they followed his trail through those that had seen him and dealt with him in the past few days, they found the hotel in which he had been staying. It had taken only a small bribe to find out the man’s full name and where he had come from, but unfortunately they were unable to get an exact address. Just his name and the name of the small town in Scotland. A computer search had given them a more exact location of the village.

Now after getting passports as quickly as they could and answering a battery of questions as to their intentions, Ameen and Ma’sma were prepared for their trip to Scotland.

“Yes, I suppose it is time.”

“Good. First, how is it that we can pay for all this?”

Ameen looked around the plane, careful to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. They whispered to each other in Arabic, but Ameen could not be too careful. He did not want to arouse any sort of suspicion that could delay them further, but could not go into too much detail.

“Let us say that I and a few others have a kind of emergency fund. A treasure if you will. And that it is only to be used in the direst of circumstances when grave fortunes are at risk.”

“How, husband? How are they at risk?”

Ameen was still afraid to speak plainly. “Well if you must know about the book I am writing,” he said with a look to his wife, hoping that Ma’sma would know to play along. Normally she was a decently bright woman, but she was under strain now. And Ameen knew about women under strain.

“Yes…” she said slowly, “I truly wish to hear about the book.”

Ameen took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and began.

“It all truly begins when the world was somewhat young. Or at least when our time and the time of life was young. Now all know that in these far gone times, the world was a wild and strange place for humanity. In some lands, bizarre shape-shifters and half-human beasts ruled the wild places. In others, demons from the very earth, rocks, trees could either be man’s greatest friend or his worst enemy. In the deserts where our people settled, there were some such demons. There were the rocs which would feed on us. There were mighty heroes as in every land. But in ours, for a time, the d’jinn held sway over all.”

“So your story speaks of legends?”

“No… In my book, they never were legends. They are merely the forgotten truths of ancient times, before man worked to dominate the land and push back the mystical that surrounded him on all sides. In the deserts, the d’jinn were powerful masters of the very fabrics that composed the world and all around it. Without moral, compassion, or thought for anything that came across them, they only cared for their amusements, and man supplied many for them through his suffering and his foolish requests of them. The d’jinn made all cower in fear except a scant few that were brave to the point of being foolhardy.

“As man attempted to find a solution, knowing that the d’jinn would eventually tire of them and simply wipe them from the desert and eventually from the rest of the earth in search of other amusements, some men realized that they could affect the mystical energy around them. And they determined to use this ability to find a solution to the problem posed by the d’jinn.

“Through a combination of sorcery and trickery, they were able to trap the d’jinn in bottles, lamps and other containers. They tricked the d’jinn into binding themselves to the laws of wishing and the limit of three, giving us the modern version seen in so many stories. And in this way, almost all the d’jinn were trapped and sealed within houses that could watch over them, and their rein was at an end.

“But one d’jinn was more crafty and powerful than the others. He escaped the bottle into which he had been trapped and managed to defy the limit of three. Though he was still bound to the wishing, he was more than capable of manipulating the foolish hearts of men to find the sorcerers and the other d’jinn.

“He did not see his brothers as prisoners to be released, but as weaklings to be punished for their foolishness. He manipulated men into making wishes that he could somehow interpret as killing any nearby sorcerers and obliterating the other d’jinn over which they watched. Many fell before his fury.

“In a last attempt, three sorcerers gathered together, knowing their kingdom was in the d’jinn’s path. Knowing that no actual container would hold this creature, they began working and making an unbreakable clay that once hardened could not be moved or cracked in the slightest. They were able to make only a small amount and when the d’jinn reached their kingdom, they strode out and confronted him.

“They told the d’jinn that they had made a clay that could not be molded or broken, and wagered that even with all his might, he could not enter it and shape it to his likeness.

“Laughing in his arrogance, the d’jinn called this a fool’s errand and told them to but wish it so that he could make the attempt and that he would mock their pitiful magics. The sorcerers made the wish carefully and the d’jinn entered the clay, beginning to mold it almost immediately.

“As the clay took shape, one of the sorcerers used all his power, killing himself in the process, to fire the clay almost immediately before the d’jinn could possibly leave it. When the sorcerer lay fallen, the other two stepped forward to behold a glazed figure of a d’jinn, the creatures bit of mockery to add to the sculpture the bottle from which he had once escaped. With no breaks in the hardened clay, the d’jinn could not escape again. But he still had some power. The one sorcerer who was blessed with wife and son vowed that his bloodline would be caretakers of the d’jinn. And so for thousands of years they have.”

Ma’sma was staring wide eyed at her husband. “And… and the sculpture… is the one that the wife accidentally sells to a Westerner?”

Ameen nodded gravely.

“But what power can the d’jinn have if trapped?”

“He is limited, thankfully, but still dangerous. He can affect anyone touching the clay and make small suggestions into their minds. Sometimes he can even show a bit of his will before one touches the clay. He could not control the mind directly unless the person wished for him to do so, and there is no way he can affect one that is not touching the clay. But once someone wished for something about himself, the d’jinn could easily do it and alter that person in any way he wished to interpret. The reason the situation is dire, though, is simple. How often do people absently say what they wish would happen?”

Thinking for a moment, Ma’sma went pale. “How… how does the story end?”

“There are three possibilities. In the best of all worlds, the Westerner takes the figure home and sets it on a shelf without ever saying the wrong things. The husband and wife find a way to collect it and all is well. The second is that the man or another has accidentally wished for something at the wrong moment and the d’jinn has worked some mischief, which would cause some definite trouble, but the bottle could still be retrieved. The third…”

“What about the third?” Ma’sma asked fearfully as Ameen trailed off.

Taking a deep breath, he continued. “The third is that the man makes a wish that could somehow be interpreted as having the power to break the clay. If that happens, the d’jinn escapes. And with no sorcerers to stop him, he is likely to obliterate this world in his childish rage.”

Ma’sma felt sick. She had no more questions and sat back, trying to grasp what her one mistake could mean. Ameen sat silently as well, thinking of the errors he had made and how careless he had become about the d’jinn. He begged Allah’s help and forgiveness in rectifying his mistakes. He had not told Ma’sma about the other trinkets he held with him, a few more items he had gathered from the safe, and prayed that he would not have to.



The following week was one of discovery for Chris. As he awoke the morning after his homecoming, it took him a few moments to realize that swallowing Julie has not been a wonderful dream but had in fact been very real. He awoke in the chair in front of the table, everything just as it had been left the night before, and if he tried he could still taste her flavor on his lips. That delectable flavor he would always remember.

Some part of Chris was thinking that he should feel guilty. After all Julie was gone, and it had been his doing. He’d never stopped loving her even during their worst fights, and that should have been tearing him up inside. But somehow he couldn’t feel anything but a kind of warm glow. It felt so powerful, so wonderful to know that she had actually slid down his throat, and the sensation had been better than any of his wildest imaginings. No, he simply couldn’t feel guilty, not now. All he could feel was desire. He wanted another one.

He picked up the figurine and stared at it a bit. Had Julie been right? Had it actually granted their wishes somehow? He thought about testing it. In his hunger, he almost grabbed it and wished that there was a tiny woman sitting on his table right now, but barely stopped. He remembered how Julie’s wish, if that was indeed what had happened, had been so loosely interpreted. Chris was reasonably sure he had just narrowly escaped becoming a two-inch tall woman himself. He needed something safer.

He went through a series of wishes, wishing that the table was made of stone, wishing that the carpet was grass, wishing that the sofa would dance. Nothing. None of that strange vibration occurred, nor did any change around him. He was about to give it up as some kind of bizarre fluke when he thought of something about the wishing that had been done last night. Figuring he had nothing to lose, he made a few very specific, very safe wishes about himself. Almost instantly each time, he felt that hum in his arm and the change he asked for each time, except the one time that he made a wish without touching the figure. When nothing happened at that point, Chris felt he had the workings of it figured out. But it needed a real test.

That first night, Chris drove into Glasgow for the evening. Though he had never been there before, he knew that there existed a few seedy districts where one could find a cheap prostitute. This seemed the easiest way to test his theory and enjoy another little morsel. And a pro was not likely to be missed immediately, especially if he was cautious.

Driving for a while through some shadier districts, Chris eventually saw several bits of street meat trying to do business. Not seeing any sign of a local constable, he slowly pulled over to the side of the road. Most were horror pictures in motion once he got a look, but one seemed to be a bit less rough ridden. Chris made an offer to this one, and soon she was in the car and on the way to a cheap motel.

As the pro went into the room, Chris pulled the figure out of the glove compartment, handling it carefully. Following her into the room, Chris turned slowly, looking at furtive as he could as he asked her if she’d role-play a fantasy for him. The girl told him that for an extra ten pounds, she did that sort of thing, and he agreed readily, asking her if she would hold the figure very carefully and then wish that she was two inches tall. The girl shrugged, apparently having had far stranger requests from her clients and did as asked.

Almost immediately she was shrunk, just as Julie had been, and Chris fished her neatly from her clothes and held her up to his face. No one could possibly here her incoherent screaming in terror, which delighted Chris as he slowly opened his mouth and placed her gently on his tongue. The pro did not taste nearly as good as Julie had, feeling somewhat dirty on his tongue. But this could not stop Chris as he neatly rolled her into his mouth with his tongue and swirled her for a few moments, delighting in the sensation of her squirming before he tipped his head back and bolted the struggling pro like a shot of whiskey. Chris gasped as he ejaculated in his pants while she slid down his throat, his momentary embarrassment overshadowed by the shear bliss he felt.

He left the hotel quickly with the sculpture in tow as she slid into his belly. Hoping that no one would notice him and working hard to not speed away from the parking lot. His stomach gurgled pleasantly, and he gave a slow sigh, a little belch escaping him as he felt the wild struggles within. It was simply incredible. But he had to admit that a woman who bathed more often would probably leave a better taste in his mouth.

The figure and what it could do slowly became the center of his world as he spent the next few nights traveling through bars and pubs and working to pick up just about any women he might be able to manage. Chris did not find it too difficult to find someone on the nights he went out and managed to go home with three different prospects during the week.

The first was a disaster. Chris attempted to use the same ruse he had with the pro and wound up with the woman walking out with a half-disgusted, half-fearful look on her face. The next time though, Chris was more careful. He simply found the best way he could to bring up his prize figurine from one of his business trips. As she was admiring it he worked in conversation to try and find some way to get her to make a casual wish of some kind, express a desire that could be interpreted the right way for him by whatever magic the thing held.

After a while the conversation was steered, the two of them already coming to some heavy petting on the woman’s bed, to things they would change if they could. Half out of Chris’s own guile and half out of luck, the woman had stated, his hand gently squeezing the supple form of her left breast, that she sometimes wished she could just be one of those “tiny, petite women that so many men just seem to love”. Her hand happened to still idly be holding the figure.

It was as if the figurine was reading Chris’s mind. With a flash of light, his conquest of the evening was laying next to him, shocked to find herself reduced to such miniscule size, and he smiled at the first glance of her. Before she even had time to think, Chris leaned his lips down to her and slowly slurped her into his mouth without bothering to use his hands. She was almost as tasty as Julie had been, and as her inevitable struggles began against his cheeks, Chris rolled her about in his mouth, slicking her up and savoring her, all but chewing her as he prepared to swallow her. Already he was getting better at taking them down, and soon he felt the woman from the club slide smoothly into his throat. He fell asleep that night on her bed, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

His success with the third was actually almost pure luck. They had gone back to her place, and the woman began to show her aggressive side, demanding that he strip as she did the same. He’d shown her the sculpture in the car and she had carried it in with her, holding onto it idly. For some reason both women had just absent-mindedly held onto the figure, which was a bit of luck for Chris.

When both of them were without a stitch of clothing, the woman all but ordered Chris to his knees, and he felt strangely turned on. Obliging her, Chris began teasing her thigh with his tongue, already thinking of how delectable she was and just what kind of word play he could use to have her make the right wish. But after a few moments, there was no need.

“Damn it all, I wish you’d just eat me,” she said in a commanding tone, moaning in desire.

What happened next was so sudden that he almost wasn’t prepared. It seemed like a practical joke by the thing he was coming to trust almost as his ally. First had come the flash that came last time, then his precious sculpture was falling almost in slow motion. As he tried to move his hand to catch it, the woman fell too. Directly into his open mouth. He almost spit her out in surprise, but she slid quickly into his throat. For just a moment, Chris was choking on her struggling form, his hands stroking his neck furiously. Then he calmed enough to work her down into his gullet, gulping her down like the others.

The sculpture was thankfully unharmed when he picked it up, but he had been terribly worried; too much to truly enjoy this snack. He picked it up slowly, staring at it almost accusingly. But despite whatever powers it might carry, it was still just an inanimate object. And looking back on the last few seconds, he simply had to laugh as he began to pull on his clothes. Nothing ever really went as expected.

And that last was something Chris would discover on Friday evening. He had expected to continue enjoying his little hunts, working on the game he played with each of them and then devouring them when they finally made the right wish. But it all changed with the first knock at the door.



Ameen drove furiously towards the small village while Ma’sma rode alongside him. Ameen was furious and Ma’sma did not speak with her husband so agitated.

For the last week they had been detained, questioned, and accused of being potential terrorists. During the flight, their conversation had gone mostly unheard, but one passenger’s selective hearing had cued into the Arabic phrase that meant “obliterate this world”. The passenger had casually called an attendant to his seat and whispered his fears to her, being careful not to be overheard himself. The attendant had followed protocol, keeping an eye on them and reporting the situation to the ground at Glasgow Airport.

When the flight landed, the couple had been met by several Glasgow constables and two Interpol agents. Ameen and Ma’sma had spent the entire week in custody before the officials finally believed that the two posed no threat to the Scotland or any portion of the United Kingdom.

Ameen had been furious when they were finally released and able to rent a car. For the first half hour of the drive, he had ranted about the lost time and the fools assuming he was trying to cause a catastrophe when his sole purpose was the hope of preventing one. He shouted about the wasted time and the urgency of the situation as the small Hyundai edged to forty kilometers over the speed limit.

This palpable silence was almost worse though. It hung in the air of the car, carrying all of his worries along with it as they sped towards the village.

“When we get there, we will separate,” he finally said, having calmed enough to speak and plan, “and begin searching the village. We will go door-to-door looking for this man or people who know him if we have to. It will take time, but at least this village is supposed to be very small, a place where most people know each other. We will hope to find him. Now this is very important, Ma’sma. If you feel that some mischief has been done already, do not try to recover the sculpture. You must find me first. I have protections of a sort. Call me on the cell phones that we purchased in the city. Just watch him and do not interfere. Do you understand?”

“Yes husband, just as you say. Let us pray that there has been no mischief.”

But soon Ma’sma would also discover that nothing ever really goes as expected.



At the first knock, Chris put the figure on a table in the living room. He had no expectations on what he would find, but Lisa was still the last person he would have thought.

Constable Kramer was still known simply as Lisa to almost everyone that had been in the village for any length of time. She and Chris had been friends for a long while, even before she became essentially the law in the village, but Lisa was not looking friendly tonight. She was, in fact, looking somewhat nervous but completely resolved.

“Evening, Chris. Can I come in?”

Recovering from the surprise, Chris nodded and stepped to the side. “Sure, Lisa. What’s going on? How are you?”

“Well, I’m wishing this was a purely social call. But something has come up over the past week. I’m just hoping it’s a mistake of some kind. Where’s that Yank girlfriend of yours tonight, anyways?”

Chris worked his face into a look of sadness. “Julie… ah… Julie left me. We had a fight… when I got home. Apparently this one was the last one because she demanded I drive her into Glasgow the next day. But I couldn’t do it until the evening, I had work to do. It was kind of a cold day in this house, that one.

Chris was amazed at how easily the story came to him. Lisa was nodding sympathetically, but to Chris it didn’t seem real. There was something she didn’t believe about and it was making her more nervous.

“Sorry to hear. The thing is, Chris, you’ve been making a few trips to Glasgow this week haven’t you?”

“Aye. Been kind of doing the pub crawl. Drowning my sorrows if I can.”

“Typical. But there’s a problem. You see, a couple women have gone missing this week. And witnesses saw them getting into a blue Citroen. That and a couple cameras in the area got the license plate. I got a call today. Because it was your plate and the person that witnesses saw talking to the women matched your description.

“And now, for some reason, I get the feeling you’re lying to me about your girlfriend. Chris… what have you been up to?”

As she said this, Lisa gave him a piercing look. Most would not expect her to be a constable just from looking at her. She was a slender blonde that seemed to be light of frame at first glance. A pretty face and a pony tail added to a feeling of someone young and possessed of a certain naiveté. But Lisa was actually lean, taut, and had a personality that was tough as nails. Kind in her personal life and a good friend, but anyone on the receiving end of that stare that Chris was seeing now knew in an instant that this constable could not be trifled with. Or successfully lied to.

Chris took a deep breath as he thought and looked at Lisa. And something seemed to change in a moment. He had never noticed Lisa as anything but a friend, but Chris was seeing the way her uniform fit her in a whole new light. Lisa looked wonderful. She looked strong, healthy and beautiful in a way he’d never noticed and he wondered now how he’d missed it all these years.

His old friend Lisa looked delicious.

Already evolving a plan, Chris moved slowly to the side table and picked up the sculpture, idly turning it in his hands. He looked to Lisa and walked slowly towards her, making his eyes look as glazed as possible.

“I bought this for Julie on my last trip. Thought it might avoid a row. But it didn’t work. We still started arguing and… it just went worse.”

“Chris… where is she? Tell me and I’ll help you if I can.”

“You really want to know what happened? Want to see where she went? Just wish for it. Just hold onto that genie there and wish for it.”

He placed the sculpture in her hands and knew the look on Lisa’s face. She was positive that he had gone completely mental. But that was what he wanted. A constable might humor a crazy person to get somewhere. He hoped against hope as she looked down at the figurine thinking. It was hard to keep from licking his lips as she finally looked up at him. There were almost tears in her eyes as she was sure she would have to do her duty to her old friend.

“I… I wish I could know what happened to your girlfriend, Chris.”

Flash. Lisa vanished into her uniform and dropped in it to the ground. Chris felt almost giddy as he dove at the fallen clothing, searching furiously for her. Soon he had her dug out and held in the palm of his hand, the perfect size just like the others. Lisa looked up at him in shock and fear as Chris smiled and unashamedly licked his lips.

“Well now you can. Now you can get a real close look at what happened to her. I can’t believe I never noticed how good you look, Lisa. I really must have been blind not to see it.”

He raised her up above his had, holding her between his thumb and forefinger and dangling her and teasing her with delight. Slowly, he opened his mouth wide and began to lower her downwards. Her legs slipped between his lips and he sucked steadily at them, lapping over them with his tongue as he moaned in delight. Lisa kicked and struggled futilely as Chris took his first taste of her and then slowly pulled her back up out of his lips. She was screaming and begging, but Chris was not even listening, enjoying too much the flavor on his lips and the feel as he teased his next snack.

Mmm, you taste so good, Lisa. Just about as good as Julie did. Those other two women were delicious, but I really think there’s something about being familiar that makes you taste better. I wonder how long you’ll squirm inside. You’re a fighter, so I’m thinking you’ll go a while. But let’s find out.”

He slowly lowered her down again, opening his mouth wide. This time her whole body was tucked into his mouth as his lips slowly closed. Chris gently pulled his fingers out of his lips and closed his eyes as Lisa began flailing madly in his mouth. He closed his eyes, letting his tongue roam over her body, stroking every inch of her skin and drinking down as much of her taste as he could.

Once again he could feel that incredible arousal as Lisa was rolled about on his tongue. He did not care that he was standing in his living room, because there was no living room for him any more. There was only the incredible sensation as he feverishly unzipped his fly, enjoying all the pleasures of devouring his old friend.

His throat working, Chris used his tongue to slowly push Lisa down, pleasure beginning to fire through his body as she kicked and struggled all the way through his chest. He could feel her flailing in his stomach as his climax flowed and ebbed, fueling his pleasure with each motion of her body.

Finally, even as she still kicked and fluttered inside, the incredible climax tapered off, leaving Chris feeling spent as he lightly rubbed his belly.

“Damn, that hit the spot,” he gasped lightly to himself as reality slowly came back into focus.

And as it did, Chris realized just what he had done and what he had to do. He had to leave now. Moving quickly he gathered up the uniform that was sprawled on the floor and rushed into the bedroom. Packing it at the bottom of a small suitcase to deal with later, he began to gather up a few bare essentials. People would know in some way that Lisa was coming to ask her a few questions tonight, and she had disappeared. With all the other suspicions, he would be picked up quickly unless he was smart in the next day or so. He had to gather up what he could of his savings, withdraw it at the next chance he had and then find some way to change his face. A good plastic surgeon that wouldn’t ask too many-

He almost laughed as he thought it. He had something better than any plastic surgeon tucked under his arm already. He’d just have to be very careful about his wishes and he could change anytime he wanted. He’d travel, that’s what he’d do. Find all sorts of tasty little morsels to enjoy and be gone as soon as someone was catching on. And Chris would guard his most prized possession, would never let it out of his sight, never let the slightest chip appear in its glazed surface.

It was a great plan, the perfect plan. And all it needed was a clean get away tonight. His bag was packed, the sculpture still held under his arm as he raced towards the front door.

That was when the second knock came.

He couldn’t panic at this point. Chris knew that he had to be cool, just get rid of this visitor; probably Glen from across the road wanting to know why Lisa was at his place. He’d just make a promise to tell him later but say that now wasn’t a good time.

But when he opened the door, it was not Glen or anyone he knew. Standing there was a squat, olive-skinned woman that seemed vaguely familiar. He had seen her somewhere, but could not quite place her, even as she began to speak.

“Hello, sir, I’m sorry to… You!” the woman exclaimed, and her eyes darted from Chris’s face to the sculpture under his arm. Forgetting her husband’s instructions, Ma’sma thought she could fix her mistake in this instant. “Please listen to me! You must give me the d’jinn sculpture. It was not meant to be sold. I will give you whatever you want for…”

The wide look in the Westerner’s eyes told her everything. Something had been going on, he had discovered the power it held in some way. But at least it was still intact. And Chris now recognized this woman as the one that had sold him the sculpture. She would not get it back, not for anything.

“No…” he said, glancing about. “No, I’ll never part with this. I’m sorry, but I’m leaving now and it’s very important. You’ll have to live without it. Good day.”

She stood in his path and Chris looked at her furiously, trying to push by and get out the door. “Get out of my way!”

“What mischief have you done, sir? What have you discovered?”

“I said get out of my way!”

Ma’sma made a grab for the sculpture, hoping to strip it from him and return it to Ameen when they met. Even though she had disobeyed his plans, her husband would be so pleased with her. All would be right if she could just get it from him, and she felt herself get a hold on it. But Chris dropped his case and grabbed on with both hands as well, a bizarre tug-of-war beginning to spill onto his front garden. He had to end this quickly and get away. Pulling at the sculpture, he managed to work them back into the house and away from where interested eyes might see.

“Let go!” he said in a harsh whisper, “It’s mine now!”

“You do not know what you are doing!” returned Ma’sma, desperately trying wrest the d’jinn from his grip. “This is more powerful and dangerous than you can know! What have you done already? Has anyone died?”

An idea came to Chris like lightning. Still wrestling for the figure, he stared at the woman, trying to seem lost in his desire to keep hold on his prized possession. “Do you truly wish to know that?”

“Yes I wish to know what…”

Ma’sma’s eyes widened in terror as she realized her fatal mistake in the fraction of a second before the flash of light. And then she was falling through huge sheets of cloth onto a thick carpet, shaking and wondering what had happened.

Chris leaned down slowly, smiling as his hands shuffled through the clothing on the ground for the small squirming mass buried in them. Finally, after several moments, he plucked the woman from the garments, turning her to face him in his hand.

“So now you’ll know; you got your wish. And I’ll keep getting mine. As many as I want if I just get them to say the right thing. Just like the plump little treat I’ve got now.”

The merchant screamed a tinny little sound as Chris quickly shoved her into his mouth. Rolling her about as he had the others, he almost thought about crunching her bones for trying to take what was his. But he couldn’t truly blame her for wanting it back, and he had no time to be petty. He tipped his head back and swallowed in a quick easy motion and sent her into his gullet.

Inside the tight, dark grip, Ma’sma kicked, flailed and wept. She had failed and been foolish in trying to take the sculpture that way, and now she had paid. Ameen was alone and might never know what had happened to her. She could hardly believe what had happened herself even as she was squeezed into a tight chamber, already feeling a tingling. She did not want to think about what she was pressed up against, and how much it felt like a human arm.

Chris gave his belly a little pat and walked out to his Citroen. He did not bother to close the door or move anything else. Let them search for him. In a matter of hours, he would be impossible to find by anyone. He was sure of this as he sped out of town, looking for a good place to ditch the car. With the right wishes, he wouldn’t need it at all. He felt freer than he ever had in his life.



Hours later, after Ma’sma had missed the appointed meeting, Ameen began to search the village where she was to be checking for the man. He feared the worst for her and knew that they should never have separated. It was so foolish of him, and he cursed himself for it as he saw the house surrounded by spectators.

Already knowing that he was horribly out of place, especially from the suspicious looks and closed doors he had received, he attempted to make his to see what everyone was staring at. Several of the villagers were standing around a small house, and Ameen recognized the car of a law enforcement officer in the drive.

He looked about and listened, hearing the name of the man they had been searching for mentioned a few times. This must be his house. Without waiting or standing on politeness, Ameen pushed his way through, hearing angry words follow him and even one or two slurs against his people. He did not care. He had to see what was happening or had already happened.

When he managed to push his way through, he could see an open doorway and just inside, he recognized the small pile of the clothes that Ma’sma had been wearing. Already he had an idea. She had not listened to him and had found the man and tried to confront him somehow. Clearly he had discovered the d’jinn’s power through the figure and managed to use it against her.

Tears filled his eyes as he slowly walked away, making his way back through more angry words. Before he merely wanted to find the d’jinn and secure it. But now he felt rage. Now he wanted to find this man for his own reasons as well as his obligations.

He could not know where to begin looking, but he would gather up a few more items and speak with a few of those that shared similar duties to his own. He would give himself a way to find the man.

For the rest of his life, he would search, if that was what it took. He was sworn.