The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Abazeel rolled over in the lumpy motel bed, knocking several empty travel-sized bottles of booze off as he did. He woke up, tried to sit up, and regretted it instantly as his head throbbed.

“Gods damn it!” He moaned, holding his pounding head. He struggled to the inadequate restroom, stood in a cold shower, and started the pathetic coffeepot. When he was able to think, he sat at the sticky table and reviewed his notes.

His new target was Samantha Hind, 42, single, working as nursing assistant. He planned on meeting her before her shift at the nursing home. Abazeel glanced at the clock, cursed again, and went out to his junker of a rental.

On the short drive, Abazeel managed to once again thoroughly curse the son of an unclean camel that landed him in this situation. Thanks to a combination of a long and complicated series of interlocking wishes, and several cups of a very fine locally made wine, Abazeel was now cursed himself. How was he to know that the man would create such a thick and indecipherable document. Abazeel was still not sure how the Hades the thing managed to only take three wishes. Ah, but the wine was amazing so there was at least that small consolation. His current mission was a peripheral part of the accursed man’s wish—his increasingly distant progeny were to be granted a series of wishes that were themselves bound by an intricate set of rules and clauses all designed to get around the limitations of the djinn.

Of course, the powers that be took a dim view of what he had done while under the influence, so put rather severe limits on his powers. He could no longer just transport himself from place to place unless it directly fulfilled a wish. He was banished from his beloved bottle home for the duration. He could still get drunk and hungover, but could no longer enjoy the rich flavors of fine wines or get a pleasant buzz. Thankfully they granted him a living allowance to allow him to operate in the mortal realm—but it was never quite enough to do anything really enjoyable. They were sadistically clever that way.

So now his only entertainment came from granting wishes, something that always brought a genie pleasure. Of course, he was still cursed and could not twist the wishes as tradition required in order to extract the richest flavors from them. Still, it was enough to keep him going day to day.

He double checked his notes and pulled into the drive of a rather sad-looking small suburban home in an older ‘transitional’ neighborhood.

The woman that came to the door might have been in her early forties, but if so, she had lived a hard life. She really wasn’t ugly, but none would call her pretty, or even ‘handsome’, either. ‘Coarsely plain’ passed through his mind, and it seemed a good match for her thick, lumpy body. She was obviously getting ready for work wearing cheap slacks and one of those hideous flowered scrub tops so popular among healthcare staff a few years ago.

“May I help you?” She asked, without enthusiasm.

“Actually, I am here to help you. Please invite me in.” Abazeel used a weak minor enchantment to get her to invite him in and trust him enough for his purposes. The powers that be limited this as well.

He found a seat on a worn couch in her equally worn living room. “Can we make this quick? I have to get to work.” Abazeel knew she was planning to stop at the local coffee place on her way, and had budgeted enough time for a donut or three as well. She had plenty of time.

“This will only take a moment. My name is Abazeel” He conjured a small roll of thunder with his name by sheer force of habit. “I am here to grant you seven wishes. What does your heart desire?” He crossed his fingers and hoped with every fiber of his being that she would not...

“Huh? Wishes? Seven? What the hell is going on here?” Yep. She was going to be one of those types. The small enchantment from earlier helped her to believe what he said but it was not powerful to let him avoid this rigamarole. Abazeel hung his head for a defeated second and began the spiel.

“You have seven wishes. You cannot use them to wish for more wishes, unlimited money or power, or, for that matter, unlimited anything. You cannot wish for anyone’s death, or things that are just too outlandish, like turning the Earth into a paradise or ending hunger. In fact, you cannot wish for anything specific at all. For example, you CAN wish for a new car, but you CANNOT wish for a specific model, or how you got it, etcetera, etcetera etcetera. Again, what does your heart desire?”

And of course, because she was human and he was cursed, she wanted to know lots, lots more. She argued with him, quizzed him about details, demanded more examples. and exploded when she learned what was next. “What do you mean someone else gets to define my wishes?”

Sigh. “Such is the nature of the gift (Abazeel could not repress a small shudder using this word) that your friends are the ones who will determine the details of how each wish will be shaped.” And that, of course, sparked another round of debate broken only by Samantha texting that she would be in late.

She demanded to know how he would select her friends (from her thoughts and memories. He already knew the seven to speak to but was barred from revealing their names.) “How long would all this take?” (Depends on travel times and so on, but each wish would be granted as soon as the friend finished.) “So, just all of the sudden, things will be different? Won’t that cause problems for me?” (He explained that the wish will be granted by changing her past so it will seem as if things were always thus to everyone else.) He even tried to explain how fulfilling a newer wish might change the results of an older one, and how her friend’s perceptions of her may change as things progress. She did not seem to be paying much attention.

“So if I wished to be a blonde, tall, voluptuous, beautiful young woman, that would count as a wish?”

Abazeel was scribbling notes. “OK, that’s five. What are your other two wishes?”

“Five!?” Samantha shrieked! “That is just one wish! I didn’t even wish it—I was just thinking out loud!” She screamed and sputtered on for a moment in this vein before calming enough for Abazeel to get in a word sideways. He suggested she treat things as if she had three wishes and still had two to go, and she calmed somewhat.

She thought out loud for a moment, careful to not use the keywords ‘wish’ or ‘want’. “Hmm, if I ask to rich and successful, that will probably count as two w...” She caught herself just in time. “Fame and fortune? Eternal health or youth? No, eternal things are not allowed, but maybe a longer, youthful life? My ‘friends’ get to decide the details, though, so that makes it rough.” She was about to wish her mom was here to talk to and just barely avoided saying it.

Abazeel tapped his shoe. “Come now, I haven’t all day. The longer this takes, the longer it will be before they are granted.” He was, of course, lying. He wanted to grant the wishes and had absolutely nothing else going on. It was just his experience that a bit of pressure helped prevent overly thought-out wishes and complications. Besides, lots of humans under pressure made delightfully twistable wishes—even with his restriction on twisting them too much.

“OK. I wish I was wildly successful.” She figured that most of her friends would count being rich and famous as a measure of success. Abazeel made a note and looked back to her. “And I wish... I wish... I wish for happiness.” She blurted, a tear in her eye, with a sense of almost desperation about her.

Abazeel raised an eyebrow as he noted this one. He felt his heart soften a bit at her obvious pain and fearful hopefulness. “Thank you, my dear. Here is my contact information. Feel free to call if you have a question, but remember that I cannot undo anything. We may meet again, but do not count on it.” He vanished in a puff of glittery smoke.

Of course he reappeared just outside the home’s door. He was allowed dramatic effects, but this situation did not call for teleportation so he slid behind the wheel of the clunker and headed down the road.

WISH ONE: ‘BLONDE’

His first stop was just next door. He would have just walked but the clunker was blocking Samantha’s car and she really did need to get to work. He pulled into the driveway of one Jane Hemmingway, long-time neighbor of Miss Hind. He used a small enchantment, one a bit more powerful than he had used before, to ‘convince’ Mrs. Hemmingway to believe everything he said and to cooperate. Since she was not making any wishes herself, this would make things easier. A rider to the enchantment also meant that she would forget their encounter almost immediately once he left.

“Samantha wants to be blonde? She got all these wishes and that is what she used them on?”

Abazeel reminded her that he could not really tell her much about what Samantha wished for or why, but could they please get back to the topic? It had taken him a few minutes, even with the enchantment, to convince her that her role in this was to help give definition and reality to the wish—what does ‘blonde’ mean in this context? Dyed or natural? Any other details? He explained that in his experience, it often helped to tell a story about it.

“Tell a story, huh? OK. Once upon a time, there was a young girl named Samantha.” Abazeel was about to interrupt and tell her that he did not need this type of story, but decided to hold back and see where it went. “This young girl had the most beautiful golden hair, long and shiny. She loved to comb it and brush it, and braid it and it was her pride and joy...

“I’m sorry, Abazeel, but Samantha would look terrible with that kind of hair. Can I change her looks to suit it better?” Abazeel shook his head no. “Can I at least change her skin tone?” Abazeel thought about it and agreed. Jane continued. “Samantha was a cute child with her sun-kissed tan skin and her beautiful hair. She...” Abazeel cleared his throat after letting her daydream another moment longer.

“Thank you, ma’am, but that is really all I need.” Jane blinked as if waking up.

“Oh, oh, yes, of course. Thank you, Mr.... um... “ The enchantment was already making her forget the encounter. She went back inside and felt a weird desire to watch ‘Tangled’ again.

Samantha was on her way to work when a yellow curtain appeared in the sides of her vision. She managed to wrestle the car to the side of the road and took a long look in the mirror. She was amazed at the sunny blonde hair she saw, neatly braided in a complicated style with some loose bits framing her face—the ‘curtain’ that startled her so badly. She decided she liked it before really noting that her skin was different as well—covered with an even golden tan. Her face looked subtly different as well, until she noticed and dimly remembered that it was just well-applied make up.

Samantha’s work day was a little more fun than it had been for the last several years. She felt lighter on her feet, and more cheerful, and just really enjoyed interacting with the residents today. She flirted, she chatted, she comforted, and she even hugged—things she had just been doing rather mechanically for a long time now were real to her again.

When it was time for her break, she finally took time and reviewed the two sets of memories she found. The older set, seeming more like a dream with every hour, of a trailer park trash childhood with few friends was being supplanted by memories of having some BFF’s in her early years—girls doing slumber parties and hanging out, and when she was older, some boy friends.

In the newer, clearer, set of memories, she did not loathe herself or feel sorry for herself for being poor, dumb, and ugly. She was more active, had friends, and did OK in school (she was never really smart, but this time around, she at least tried to do the homework and such sometimes.) She was not genetically prone to slender body, but it did loose some of its lumpiness—even more so as she began to eat better and be more active in college. She had learned to do her hair and make-up from her friends, and was actually pretty good at it. She took out her purse and mirror and touched up her face a bit, smiling and enjoying the sensation of a real smile after so long.

She could not help herself. She shook out her hair, undoing the braids, and just relished the sensation of running her hands through her locks. It felt so wonderful, so sensual. She ‘remembered’ how much she loved it when a rare boyfriend would do it to her, making her all quivery. She sighed and put it in a quick, thick ponytail to finish her shift. “Oh, Mrs. Martlebee, let me help you with that!”

She called Abazeel later that night, after a long brushing session, which had led to some ‘private time’, to thank him for the gift. She tried to engage him about her other wishes, but he managed to deflect her even as he thought to himself that she was much less cranky now. He felt it was too bad that she never really hooked up with any of the right guys even this time around.

WISH TWO: ‘TALL’

The next morning found Abazeel across town having tea with Deidre Jones, an older black woman that Samantha thought of as a friend, but who considered herself mostly just a co-worker. His magic again set it up so she instantly believed him and was generally cooperative.

“Tall” Deidre reflected as she sipped from her cup. She had a couple hours to go before her shift and was rather enjoying the visit of this dark and mysterious gentleman.

“Yes. Tall. No specification of how tall, how she got that way, etc. That, dear woman, is where you come in. How tall would you say is ‘tall’ in this case?”

Deidre went to her computer. “Well, the average for women in the US is 5′4″, and she seems, what, about 5′3″ or so? I guess 5′5″ would count both as ‘taller than she is now’, and ‘taller than average’, but it does not seem to be what she is asking for. How about we go for 5′11″? I bet her beautiful hair would look nice on someone that tall. Would she keep her current weight or would she just get proportionally heavier? I mean, it’s not like she is a close friend, but I don’t want bad things for her.”

“I cannot directly address her weight with this wish, but I can go so far as to have her keep her current weight. I show that she weighs about 175 pounds, which is at the upper range of that height on that chart.” Deidre was visibly relieved that things would not get worse for Samantha.

“So,” Abazeel continued. “We have the target. How did she get this tall? from birth? Growth spurts? Magic?” He smirked with the last suggestion knowing his own magic would prevent that option as part of its inherent ‘keep magic a secret’ elements.

“She should just inherit it from a tall parent... perhaps her mother.” Deidre said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

“She grew up taller than average, then?” He asked, making notes. He shook Ms. Jones’s hand and went out to his car to cast the actual spell.

Samantha went from pushing a cart loaded with cups of juice and coffee, and mid-morning pastries for the residents in her wing to pushing a lockable cart loaded with small cups of medicines in a heartbeat. As she shook her head, she noticed her new vantage point nearly a foot higher than she was used to. She looked down on the crisp royal blue scrubs she was wearing—her usual uniform as a nurse here. She also noticed that she was thin. Well, not thin-thin, but she had a bit of a waist now and her thighs were not jiggling!

She looked around, feeling her thick braid swishing along her back, and was amazed at how much better her posture felt, and how much more confident she felt! She finished her med rounds with a comfortable familiarity that she was not sure of and strode confidently to the nurse’s lounge—a room she had never been in before but also knew well. She also knew somehow that it would be empty at this time.

She called Abazeel. “What’s going on? I’m obviously taller, but I’m a nurse now? And why do I feel different?” Abazeel noted that her voice and language were much less coarse now.

“Your friend Deidre said you should be tall for a woman because your mother was tall. I had to change your mother’s background quite a lot to get her to carry the right genes, and your father a bit to arrange for her to be that much taller than him and still fall in love.”

As he spoke, Samantha felt her memories swirl and congeal. Her memories of her mother changed from remembering a rather unmemorable part-time data entry clerk to those of a full-time office manager, although her dad remained a barely successful insurance salesman. There was a lot more money available and more of a focus on education as she grew up. The trailer home she grew up in changed to a small house in the old part of the city, where they ate better and had better schools. She actually played some team sports in school, and she had lots of friends in grade school. She lost some friends and still had a hard time dating due to her height, but she still had a good time in school this time around. She even made it onto the cheerleader squad for a semester.

She had started to go to college to get a degree in business but did not really have the head for it, and changed to an RN program early on. Unfortunately, there was a glut of nurses when she graduated so working at the nursing home was the best she could find. It was honest work, but she was planning on going for her Bachelors of Nursing soon and find something better.

She shook her head and thanked Abazeel, hanging up. She finished her shift and went home to the same house, but one she had obviously spent more money on decorating and remodeling. She made a fresh salad from a fridge that was full of take-out boxes and ice cream only hours earlier, worked some more on her BN application, and hit the sack early since she had an early shift tomorrow.

WISH TWO: VOLUPTUOUS

It took Abazeel a few days to make it to the next destination several states away in the thrice-damned clunker. He figured he would make a big circle of it as the rest of the people on the list were out of state. He pulled up at Jimmy’s house and knocked on the door, casting his small spell of cooperation.

It did not take long for younger cousin Jimmy to be opening page after page of bookmarked feminine images. Tall, short, dark, fair, blonde, brunette, redhead, thick-bodied, willowy, nude, barely dressed... they all had one thing in common—an exaggerated hourglass shape.

“See, now when I think ‘voluptuous’, I think classic bombshell body—big chest, smaller but not tiny waist, big hips. These girls...” highlighting a whole group of women with large breasts, visible abdominal muscles, and slender limbs, “They’re a bit too skinny for the term. I feel like it calls for a bit of softness, a little padding to enhance the curviness.” He highlighted another group that had thick waists compared to their hips. “These women don’t quite have the ratio I would say is needed for true ‘voluptuousness’.”

He pulled a Facebook photo of Samantha up on another monitor. “See, she has the height to pull off something special. Right now, she’s just... ordinary. I can’t tell what kinds of tits she has. She has that chubby belly and I bet she has rolls on her waist. I mean, she’s OK. I’d probably bang her if we weren’t related and she wasn’t so old, but damn... if she looked more like THESE, that would be incredible!”

‘THESE’ were photos of busty models like Jordan Carver and Kelly Brook. “So... if we made it so she was... 38E, no, 38G-24-36, that would be about right for her height to qualify her. Hey, can you make it so she loves sex? That seems to be a part of what makes someone ‘voluptuous’—they are least look and act like they would enjoy a good fuck.”

Abazeel was glad the kid did not go much further—he was beginning to feel unclean. He was itching to put this in action. “And how did she accomplish this? Diligent workouts? Late bloomer? Weight-loss TV show? Grew up this way?”

Jimmy’s brows knotted as he thought about it. “I guess it would be cool if she grew up skinny and her ass and boobs blew up in middle school. You know, skinny chick in grade school turns into the popular chick in high school?” Abazeel smiled as he took his leave of Jimmy who by now was fantasising about his new dream girl’s body.

Samantha was getting ready to step off the elevator on her way back from the cafeteria. She was still aglow with the pleasure of eating with her nurse friends and a part of her was happy as things were right now. These last few days had been like a dream! A dream that was made all the more interesting when she hooked up with the guy down the street last night. OK, so maybe he wasn’t a George Clooney or anything but he was better than anyone the old Samantha had ever had if she remembered her old life correctly. She was looking forward to another night with him soon.

As she stepped through the elevator doors, however, she nearly tripped as things shifted again and she was stepping onto a totally different hallway. While it was a familiar layout—industrial carpet and a nearly endless array of doors—this hall was obviously that of a local hospital.

The other reason she nearly tripped was dealing with her new body—she was suddenly top-heavy and bottom-heavy at the same time and her newly big boobs and ass pulled her in different directions. The new shoes that suddenly replaced her broken-in nursing flats did not help at all. She nearly broke an ankle staggering to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

She was still wearing her scrubs, but now they were soft green and better quality. She was wearing an XXXL top over a snug T-shirt over an industrial bra. Even with all that, she was showing a mile of cleavage and looked like she might burst any second now. Her scrub bottoms hugged a badonka-donk butt and an actual honest to god waist! Her long legs tapered to surprisingly delicate feet in low-heeled walking shoes. Her face did not change structurally, but she was wearing nicely applied make-up and apparently had had her hair done.

She shook her head as new thoughts filled in the spaces of her mind. Her mom was tall and incredibly busty now, and made a ton more money as an office manager for a large corporation than her dad did in his insurance business—even though having his almost trophy wife at social events had significantly advanced his stature. She was also a master of make-up, being fairly bland without it but able to appear pretty to gorgeous as her needs dictated.

Samantha’s new home was in a much nicer neighborhood but otherwise life had not changed a ton growing up until she hit 7th and 8th grades, when she began to blossom—damn near explode—to new and dazzling dimensions. Suddenly, guys were looking at her and she found she liked it! She began to become a bit of a party girl, flirting, dancing, drinking, and pretty much everything but going all the way. Then she overheard a couple guys talking about her. “She’s a solid eleven if she wears a bag over her face. She’s only about a six otherwise.” the guys high-fived each other as they laughed over the jibe. That night she wept as she asked her mom for make-up tips.

Samantha threw herself at the challenge of being cool and popular. High school became a swirl of classes, parties, discovering the joys of full-penetration sex, and more parties. It was a rare Sunday now that did not find her hung-over and reeking of sweat and sex. She had developed a real love of oral and tit-fucking and rarely had difficulty finding someone to take her up on it. She fought with her mom all the time now—grades, hem lengths, boyfriends, birth control, peircings, her growing drinking problem. At least she never got into drugs.

She made it to college by the skin of her teeth and dire threats from her mom. She started in a general studies program and partied so much that she nearly flunked out. Thankfully, some of her friends held an intervention for her in her sophomore year and she got her act together—her Sunday mornings were still pretty rough but the rest of the week she focused on her classes. She managed to make it into the Bachelor of Nursing program, and graduated with acceptable grades and an acceptable class rank.

As Samantha walked to the nursing lounge on the familiar/unfamiliar floor, she thought about graduation and after. Her parents were at graduation and she enjoyed a wonderful time with them, but the after-party with her sorority and some frats was epic. She did not drink a lot but she danced with anyone who asked, kissed people who did not even ask, and competed against some of her sisters to see who could get the most guys off. She practiced her signature move from her ‘bad days’—rubbing her giant tits against a guy as she kissed and stroked both his cock and his ego until he popped. She laughed as she ‘remembered’ scoring three different guys at once with that technique.

Reality set in soon after that and she had to find a job. The market was tight, especially with her unspectacular grades, and many interviewers seemed jealous of or intimidated by her body. She asked her mom for help out of desperation. She went into the next series of interviews looking like she ran the place. She wore taller heels, a perfectly tailored power suit that revealed a long line of cleavage but still kept her breasts ‘locked and loaded’ right where she wanted them, and make-up designed to make her look smart and in-charge. Her secret weapons were an intoxicating perfume, a carefully cultivated wiggle as she walked, and a new resume that her mom had her HR department friends polish to perfection.

She had her choice of jobs from the next three interviews she gave. The one she selected offered the best long-term opportunities even if it did not start at quite as high of a pay level. She had diligently worked her way through various departments in the hospital’s system and was now the head nurse for their women’s hospital division, with an eye on the Director of Nursing’s job. On the other hand, she really liked working with her patients so was perfectly happy where she was for now.

As she made it into her office, she was reminded of another perk of her job. Roger was sitting in her office, all muscular and tan, trying so hard to look debonaire and cool. He was the tech rep assigned to the hospital to take care of his company’s equipment. He was also almost painfully shy around women and it had taken Samantha some time just to get him relaxed enough to talk to her. She smiled at him. “So, does the fact you are here mean you have a little ‘down’ time you’d like to turn to ‘up’ time?”

His grin got all shy and cute, and his face went hot pink. It got worse as Samantha pulled her top and T off in a well-practiced motion, then shucked her bra, letting them fall and wiggle before pulling his face to her ginormous G-cup boobs. Roger fought back valiantly, wrestling his way to suck up a thumb-sized nipple in his mouth as he tried to capture the other with a hand. He was so distracted by trying to undo her clothing that Samantha just said “Fuck it” and pushed him back in the chair. She grabbed his shoes and pants and pulled them off along with his undies and took his already erect cock in her mouth. He came quickly and she swallowed, then sucked him again back to hardness as he played with her breasts and hair.

Once he was hard, she dropped her scrub bottoms and bent over her desk, presenting a magnificent ass to his view. As usual, he stared and caressed it for a moment. She shivered lightly at the sheer pleasure of being worshipped by a man like this. She gave a wiggle to break him out of his trance, and he lined himself up. They fucked good and hard for several minutes, each working up a deserving sweat.

Roger was not the biggest or most skilled of her lovers, but he was earnest, enthusiastic, and had great stamina. Besides, he made her laugh! He brought her to multiple peaks before taking his own pleasure, and, as usual, paid proper homage to her bounteous breasts. After they rested, they alternated using the small en-suite shower in her office before he had to scoot back to work and she had to finish the reports. Before she did, though, she checked her phone’s calendar. “Oh, tomorrow is Jeff! Wonderful!” She smiled as she thought about the man from accounting’s thick cock and long tongue. God, she loved her life!

WISH FOUR: BEAUTIFUL

“Well, I mean, one can be considered ‘beautiful’ for many reasons besides looks. They can have a beautiful spirit or a beautiful mind. It is really not a cut and dried thing.” Sue Parker was one of the girls from Samantha’s altered time-line, the one that cared for her enough in college to organize an intervention to keep her friend from getting too wild and hurting herself. (A different woman would have had this wish originally, but she was no longer involved in Sam’s life in this time-line. It screwed Abazeel’s itinerary up a bit to have to veer to the new wish-writer, but that is just how things went sometimes.)

“And that is all well and fine. As I said, you need to help me define what this means and how it occurs. If you choose to define it as a beautiful spirit, that is what it will be.”

Sue sighed. “No. I can’t do that to her. She obviously meant to be truly pretty. I know she was never really happy with her looks, even though she had gotten good at covering them up. She told me about something a couple kids said years before that must have really hurt her, something about only being a six even with her curves. I... I know how she feels.” Abazeel wished he could do something for Sue’s face, a good looking girl whose face was ravaged by acne scars. Not for the first time he cursed the restrictions that held him back.

“So, lets do this right, shall we?” Sue pulled a photo of Samantha and began to discuss her eyes, they discussed the nuances of noses, and the lines of the lips. Sue argued that Samantha’s whole body needed some tweaking, that it was just too... too... well, too much. Abazeel pointed out that she could not invalidate a previous wish, so Sue worked within the parameters she could.

“This would be so much easier if I could somehow see what I was doing!” Sue huffed. Abazeel smiled. Working with this sweet woman was so much more enjoyable than working with Jimmy, or indeed, most mortals.

“Would this help?” Abazeel held up a photo of Samantha in a bikini at the local lakeside. With a gesture, it became a close-up of her face and reflected what the two had been discussing.

“Oh, perfect! Oh, dear... those eyes and skin do not go well with her hair now. Can we make her a red-head?” Abazeel told her that it would be outside the parameters of the wish. She sighed and tweaked Samantha’s eye color and such a bit to help. After another couple hours of happy work, Abazeel was back on the road.

Things shifted around Samantha wildly. Her office went from ‘hospital neutral’ to a tasteful modern look with natural woods and decorator colors. Her clothes had shifted to an expensive women’s-cut suit over what had to be a custom-fit silky blouse. What the heck? She looked around to get clues about her new reality and each little discovery sparked a new memory. If she was right, she needed a mirror, quickly. She strode on sky-high heels to the en-suite restroom and looked at the full length mirror, gasping. She was gorgeous!

She looked like someone who routinely won beauty pageants and appeared in cosmetics ads. Clear sun-kissed skin, gorgeous blue eyes that complimented her golden hair perfectly, a delicate nose and kissable lips... even her shell-like ears were attractive. Her hair was professionally done, her make-up just enough to emphasis what she had, and her whole suit looked custom-tailored. She looked just like her mother, she suddenly realized as she re-remembered her now beautiful, successful mom. Her brain buzzed for a moment and she suddenly remembered that she was a pharmaceutical rep.

That memory juxtaposed over her memories of being a nurse (twice) and thinking of most pharma reps as being bimbos or himbos in nice suits and now she was one! Her memories whirled—beautiful mom, her dad (and an early divorce, then remarriage to a more successful man that moved everything along a new path towards a more prosperous lifestyle. She recalled getting a sports car for graduation, boys, parties, upper-end schools, boys, girlfriends—some BFFs, others jealous bitches faking it. She was recruited for modeling, got business cards from supposed producers, and then a friend of her step-dad asked her to be a rep for his pharmaceuticals. She went to work for him as an intern and changed majors to further her new career path.

She advanced quickly in her field since she could combine her extraordinary beauty with decent brains and take her sales to a higher level. Now she was one of the top salespeople. Besides her nice paychecks and bonuses, she also was able to satisfy her raging libido frequently with A-List guys. In fact, her schedule showed that she had reservations tonight with William at the hottest new restaurant in town, followed by some time an equally hot night club. She noted that the limo would be there in a few more hours so turned herself back to her computer after giving her favorite pussy a little pat.

WISH FIVE: “Young”

“Dammit! She gets ALL the damn breaks! I HAVE to do this?” June raged in front of Abazeel. The furious woman was another of the ‘friends from the new time-line’ people. Abazeel really wished he could have gone to one of her friends from the hospital, or even the nursing home, but he did not have much leeway in this.

“All this time playing nice to the bimbo because the bosses seemed to think she was something special. She stole my goddamn boyfriend, had him break our engagement, and then dumped him just to screw with me. Then the plastic bitch stole my promotion, and I HAVE to grant her a WISH?” June was screeching by now. He could have told her that Sam was not why Leonard broke up with her, and that she was never in contention for Sam’s job but she was in no mood to listen. Abazeel also could not cast any further enchantments on her thanks to the many restrictions. This was not boding well for poor Sam.

“Damn it, and damn her! I should make her five years-old forever!” Abazeel explained to her that ‘forever’ is not an option, and then he fibbed to tell her that he was limited to eighteen at the youngest. Thankfully, she did not push against that as he was not sure he could have mounted much of a defense.

“Eighteen, huh? She’d still get carded everywhere, and be too young to have gotten what should have been my job or my boyfriend. Can I have her age really slowly, or at least look like she is aging slowly?” Abazeel nodded slowly “OK, here’s the deal. She will be, let’s say twenty-six, but look eighteen or as much younger as you can arrange. She will age as slowly as you can can make it and always act like, talk like, dress like, and present herself like a teenager.” Abazeel shuddered slightly at this idea. He was going to resist this as much as he could within the limits imposed on him—but the same rules that kept him from twisting wishes badly also would keep him from twisting this one to Sam’s benefit. He left June’s home in a thoughtful mood.

Samantha was lounging in the limo on her way to meet William and his delightful cock, when things shivered and she was suddenly on a huge fluffy bed in what looked like a bedroom owned by a teen. The walls were a light violet and there were stuffed animals on the shelves. She struggled out of the bed, noticing that she had changed again but unsure of the details. She went to the full-length mirror on the walk-in closet door and examined her reflection.

OK, she was still a tall blonde—her head was nearly off the top of the mirror, and her beautiful blonde hair was down to almost her waist. She was still voluptuous—her breasts may have shrunk a bit but so did her waist and it was all in proportion. She guessed/knew she was a 36EE-22-34 now. She was still sexy as fuck even without her make-up. And, of course, she still looked like a teen. “When am I going to stop looking like a high school student?” She whined, blowing some of her bangs out of her eyes. “Darn it, I’m the oldest in our group and keep getting carded.” She grabbed a pillow and fell back onto her bed.

Hold it... William, limo, manager... she was forty-two, damn it! Um, Darn it. Memories twisted and flowed. Sammie was doing fabulously as a... OK as a pharmaceutical sales rep but her youthful looks were holding her back. It was hard for doctors and other key contacts to take her seriously. Even when they met at bars to conduct business, she preferred non-alcoholic drinks and dressing a bit... young. If the suits were cut nicely, the colors were too bright. If the colors were more business-like, the styles were more teen-oriented. It was not bad when she was just an intern or assistant, but as she passed her mid-twenties, it became more and more of a liability. She had been living off small contracts and a few accounts she developed early on.

She remembered flashes of her previous life and things like thinking that “Maybe I should take Junie up on her suggestion.” Sammie thought Junie was one of her BFFs, not knowing that June was/had been burning with jealously over the younger girls looks and opportunities.

June had been hinting for over a year now that Sammie should get into stripping or something. “My girlfriend Wanda works at that place over on Pine? The place with that big neon sign? She says she makes more in a couple good shifts from tips than I do from sales in a week. If I had the looks, I’d sure think about doing something like that.” June was too smart to ever oversell it, she just kept dropping bits and hints. The idea slowly took root in Sammie’s mind and she began practicing moves she saw on YouTube and porn sites. She even took a pole dancing class ‘just for the fun of it’.

She had gone to an amatuer night at the club outside the city limits a few months ago and done pretty well for herself. The woman she lost to played on a regular circuit and had pro-level moves and tricks. Nonetheless, the whole thing had left Sammie feeling excited and alive—something she had not really felt much lately worrying about her job. She went another night and had made the mistake of inviting Junie along. The girl had secretly taped her performance and it was all over work the next day. Sammie was quietly let go soon after but at least the club had offered her some shifts on a trial basis.

It took her a while to work her way up to the good shifts. Sammie had made friends with a couple of the more experienced girls and had learned a lot from them. She was still not really comfortable with the VIP Lounge area or private dances, but had done a few to help make ends meet. She was often requested due to her youthful beauty, but most nights she just worked the floor for a while and went home. She also had taken a part-time job at a coffee shop to help make ends meet more comfortably. She really dressed down for the coffee shop and was amused at the difference in how her customers acted in the two different venues.

In fact, she had met her current male friend, Jason, at the coffee shop. The poor guy took forever to ask her out and was horrified when he realized that he had asked her out for coffee but she laughed it off. When she found out that he was only 22 and thought she was younger than him, she decided to play along for a while. It took a few dates to convince him to start going for the bases, but once he discovered how much fun her breasts were, he was hooked. It took several more dates to move him to the next base, but he was worth the wait.

Fortunately, it was Tuesday night. She did not have a shift at the club and had a date lined up with Jason. If things went well, he’d get to ‘home’—finally—she thought to herself as she tossed a few condoms in her bag. She looked at the clock and sat down at her make-up vanity.

In the meantime, Abazeel finally tracked down wish-speaker number six. Selena was a big name on the stripper circuit and travelled much of the year, making it hard to catch her with his limited resources. She and Sammie had gotten fairly close when she headlined at the club recently, and they still kept in touch on and off with Facebook and the like.

“Well, I guess I’ve been thinking about hanging it up for a while now. I’m not getting any younger and the competition is getting tougher every year. So, why not make her the most successful stripper around? It could be a pretty good life for someone like her” She pondered, smoking on a foul cigarette.

Abazeel waved the smoke away and quizzed her on the details even as he devoutly wished he could tell her about Samantha’s great previous career as a sales rep, or even a head nurse. He was trying to figure out a way to get Selena to think about non-stripping options when he realized she was already deep into describing Sammie’s new life and it was being locked in.

“Maybe one of the recruiters for one of the big outfits caught her act and recognized her potential? Yeah, a scout for someone like Silver Stars International sees her and signs her on. She takes some classes but mostly just discovers that she has all these hidden talents for it. You know, one of those who can do a lap dance that results in a happy ending without touching the guy? Someone who loves their body and what it can do to a man, and has it down to a fine art. I guess she’d have to lose her inhibitions—she still stayin’ away from the private rooms? Yeah, she’d have to get real enthusiastic about doing that sorta shit.” Selena went on for a bit longer, describing a woman who loved performing—on stage or in bed, mostly a dominant personality with a touch of submissiveness that ‘would turn the marks on’.

Abazeel made his notes and thanked her with a heavy heart. As he left, Selena was stroking herself thinking of her old friend for some reason.

The lights around her vanity flared and momentarily blinded Sansa. She shook herself and looked at the mirror. Something was different, but she could not put her finger on it. She was still tall, six and a half feet in these heels. Her shimmeringly pale blonde hair was still long and silky... she still regretted dying it to the paler shade, but it really helped her career. Her blue eyes looked huge with the make-up and eyelash extensions, and some carefully researched injections gave her cock-sucker lips without the silly ballooning so many girls ended up with. She stood up and finished dressing in her trademark schoolgirl outfit complete with the sequined tie.

As she stretched in her spacious Las Vegas dressing room she remembered the old, dingy spaces she started in and marvelled at how far she had come. Fame, money, travel... it was often like a dream. One of the best parts was that the VIP lounges she spent time in now were generally full of actual VIPs. She had met famous actors and actresses, multi-millionaires, successful CEOs and business moguls, and royalty. She had spent weekends and entire weeks as a girlfriend for hire or just to act as arm candy in some of the most scintillating places on Earth.

She reflected on being recruited for modeling out of college, and thinking about the bullet she dodged when one of Daddy’s friends wanted her to go to work for him. Mummy and Daddy were not real thrilled about their not-so-little Samantha going full-on pro as Sansa but she absolutely loved the life—the glamour, the excitement, the incredible sex! (Well, she smiled ruefully to herself, the sometimes incredible sex. It was amazing how many of the big name men she ‘dated’ were pretty bad in the bedroom. Still—there were other rewards.)

The gopher gave her a heads-up and she strode out to the wings to wait for her music. She peeked out at the full house and felt her loins warm again. All these eyes locked on her! She wondered who the lucky guy, or maybe guys, were going to be tonight. Then she heard the music swirl and the crowd started to chant “Sansa! Sansa! Sansa!” Her nipples hardened as she took to the stage.

It took Abazeel some time to work his way back to Samantha’s original hometown. Car breakdowns, an inordinately long detour, and so on seemed to conspire against him but he finally pulled into a driveway.

Jason was a young man that briefly dated Samantha when she worked part time in a local coffee shop. He was madly in love with her, but knew that her attention was elsewhere. The two stayed in touch through social media but he knew he was just one of her legion of admirers. Abazeel was greatly pleased that he had remained on the list between the last two time-lines.

“Happy. I get ‘happy’? I don’t know if this is some sort of cosmic joke or the best example of good karma ever. You know, when she was working at the coffee shop, I didn’t know she had another career. I just thought she was this wonderful, warm girl that went on some dates with me. Maybe she said yes the first time out of pity or to get me off her back, but we seemed to have a good time together. It was kind of a shock to find out about her other life. Tell me, is there anything else about her I probably should know?”

Abazeel positively shuddered in happiness. The way he phrased that was perfect! Abazeel took some time to fill Jason in on everything that happened, not worrying about giving too much away since he would forget this visit soon.

Jason was stunned. “Wow. Successful nurse, high-paid pharmaceutical rep? Why did you have to follow June’s wishes so closely? Couldn’t you have done something about Selena’s wish? Why...” Abazeel held up a restraining hand and filled him in on some of his own past.

“OK, so can I undo any of this? Rather, let me think. OK... Abazeel, I wish you could tell me how to make this all right for her.” Abazeel smiled.

Samantha woke up in a huge fluffy white bed, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. A warm body beside her stirred and she remembered that she and her husband were on their first anniversary in Vegas, where they got married a wonderful year ago.

She laid back and reflected on her rich variety of memories. She wasn’t sure why, but she now remembered most of every different time-line, and enjoyed reliving highlights now and then. One of her favorite memories was actually from this time-line, when Jason showed up at her Vegas performance and they rekindled their relationship—several warm and wet times, in fact. They had a whirlwind romance that ended up with their getting married in a Vegas chapel right after her contract with both the agency and the club was up.

They moved back to their hometown. She really had not built up much savings as a stripper, even though she was well paid. She did sell off the flashy car and overpriced jewels and furs she had accumulated and managed to pay for a good chunk of a new degree. She was currently enrolled in the local college on a ‘general studies’ track as the two of them decided what she wanted to major in.

They had several ideas of career options for a smart, beautiful young woman. Samantha knew enough about June’s ‘young’ curse/wish to understand some of the challenges facing her, but her skill with make-up, learned from the ‘voluptuous’ wish, would really help here. Now that she understood that she had been sabotaging her own efforts by acting like such a teen—thanks to the wish—she could counter-act to some extent, and now she had Jason’s help!

Right here and right now, however, she was feeling a bit frisky. She knew that it was just part of Selena’s ‘Successful’ wish that was juicing her up, but she loved the feeling and knew just what to do. She slipped under the covers and found Jason’s cock. At first, she just played with it in the near darkness. Then she settled down and began to suck. She knew she could bring him off like a true professional, but instead she used her skills and experience to make the sensations last... and last... and last.

Jason woke up and flipped the covers down so he could see his gorgeous wife. He stroked her hair and wished her a good morning as she continued her efforts. She carefully monitored his responses and used a combination of squeezing the base of the shaft or under the head to slow things down just... enough... that he felt himself shiver in a mild orgasm without really cumming. He gathered his beloved up and gave her a huge hug and brief kiss (to protect her from his dragon breath). He returned her favor by worshipping her big, firm breasts and kissing her perfect little pussy.

Soon she was thrashing and screaming. If he thought it unfair that she should get big climaxes and he only got a small one, he did not show it. He knew that she would stoke his fires all day and they would share a huge orgasm later today. Besides, he knew she would really get worked up when they visited her old club later today and she had the chance to spend some time with her old girlfriends.

He also knew that one of the other left-over bits of Selena’s wish would involve her getting hot and sweaty with a couple of them, and that he just might get invited to play along.

All in all, Samantha was happy, and Jason was happy.

Even Abazeel was happy as he drove towards his next appointment.