Your One, True Wish

Your trip to the antiques show left you with very little to show for it but you weren't disappointed in the slightest. A wide array of old decorative knickknacks sit atop your table, each and every one of them as strange as the last: An old incense burner from India, various road signs from famous stretches of road, and even an old oil lamp you figured would look great somewhere. 

After you set about cleaning and organizing the various oddities, you finally lay your hands on the tarnished oil lamp; you figure it must have been some kind of fancy make due to its ornate markings and the like. You begin to polish the cloudy brass, only for the lamp to emit a strange, hissing noise from within. You step back, watching as an iridescent cloud pours out from the lamp, a large, toned man stepping forth from the strange smoke. His eyes smouldered like coals, which were now fixed upon you radiantly. 

"I see someone has finally managed to disturb my slumber," The supposed genie begins, folding his arms while regarding you with a dour expression. You can't even begin to find the words, only stammering and pointing towards the lamp - you could hardly believe your eyes.

"Oh, that? We normally keep our hide-outs contemporary, but enough about that. Due to a number of changes over the centuries among Djinn kind, I am only obligated to offer you a single wish - you are well aware of such an offer, right?"

You nod slowly, standing there like a deer in headlights. The genies' eyes look you up and down before looking straight into your own as if peering right into your soul. He sighs, glances towards his bare wrist, gazing around the room like he has better things to do.

"Anytime this century, mortal." He reminds you with a hint of annoyance to his voice, you roll your eyes.

"As if I can come up with something like this on the spot! What do you expect me to do?"

The djinn, clearly annoyed with what he perceives to be your arrogance towards such a lofty being like himself, snaps his fingers. You freeze in place immediately, barely able to move a muscle let alone think of what you could possibly want. "You're the slowest mortal I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. How about I choose for you if you're going to be so ill mannered?"

You only begin to realize the implications of his words as he peers into you deeply, you can feel his smouldering gaze within your very being, studying what must have been your innermost thoughts and desires. His steely expression gives way to a soft, mischievous smile. Without so much as uttering a single word, the genie seizes you with his large, powerful hands. He begins to mold you, squeezing and contorting your body like clay. You could only feel what could best be described as the greatest discomfort you've ever experienced in your life. It takes a while, but you finally discern his goal as his warm hands caress your belly, causing it to fill outwards at an alarming rate. Your shocked expression elicits a soft chuckle from the genie as your stomach begins to spill over his grip. He was making you fat. You finally begin to understand the full gravity of his plan once his palm presses into your crotch, causing your manhood to recede into your body, leaving a tingling slit in its place.

His hands continue to roam your frozen body, his warm touch causing great swells of fat to explode from your body, distorting your frame, leaving you jiggling intensely as you continue to expand in width to the point of enormity. The genie takes a moment to scrunch your face, causing what felt like an extreme pressure encircling your head. A loud pop leaves your ears ringing once he pulls his hands away, causing you to gasp in your new, feminine voice. 

"Your reward," He jests in a teasing tone, holding his arms aloft as if showing off some divine work of magic when in fact he was just marveling at your reddened, humiliated expression. The intense feeling of discomfort as well as your paralysis fades within moments.

Your newfound weight sends you straight to the ground, your enormous ass finding purchase against the floor with a loud, fleshy slap. Lengthy locks of hair spill into your vision as you frantically look yourself over. There wasn't a trace of your former self remaining, it was as if you were always this heavyset woman. You can't help but cringe at how different this all feels: Every single movement requires exertion on your part, leaving you panting softly as you lift your heavy, wobbling arms to probe and squeeze at your fleshy body. Even the simple act of breathing seems to take far more effort than ever before. You felt weak.

You open your mouth to protest, but the genie is much too quick, slapping his hands down against either side of your stomach, you're unable to help but cringe at the way your belly sways and wobbles with even the slightest provocation. You were pure girl-fat and little else.

"And now, your punishment." The genie announces, pressing his fingers into your flab, causing them to simply vanish. You felt intense discomfort followed by a dull pain as his magic warps your insides. You writhe against the floor weakly, groaning and exhaling hotly. You can feel a great heat stir from within the core of your being as droplets of sweat begin to form around your flabby body. The discomfort somewhat gives way to a bloated sensation as you lean forward, the sensation quickly building up against your backside. Try as you might, you're unable to stop yourself from releasing a loud, lengthy fart that leaves you dumbstruck with its revolting smell. You manage to peel your thighs apart with a loud, sticky noise as you squirm against the floor, that bloated sensation quickly building up once again.

"Who could wish for such a thing?" The genie questions no-one in particular, shaking his head. "A body, ruined by years of indulgence and gluttony. Just what is going on in that head of yours?" He observes, tracing a finger along the vast swell of your padded hips, chuckling in delight as he cups one of your bulbous, cellulite-ridden ass cheeks, bouncing it in his palm. "Only made worse by a bit of mischief from a kind, patient benefactor." He adds, delivering a firm slap to your ass, forcing you to answer with a soft moan and another massive fart. By now, the room reeked of sweat and gas, your pale body shimmering in the dull light of your dwelling. "You're going to do that often from now on, understand? You will find very little relief from this. Women will laugh at you and only the most desperate and perverse of men will regard you with any degree of lust, that is of course, after they find out about your various little issues."

"And finally, a dilemma." He murmurs, producing a small bottle of dark blue liquid from seemingly nowhere, dangling it front of your face before setting it on the table. "A simple potion, my dear client. You may have noticed that your reality is intact - that was intended. Drink this and your new life begins: You will forget your old one and you may very well end up as someone else entirely. What kind of person do you think lives like this? A desperate, gassy slut? A slobby shut-in?" He laughs, "You may even end up hating your new body."

"Or," His grin widens to the point of where it looks as if the top half of his head could fall of at any moment, "You pick up the pieces of your new life on your own, memories and reality intact. I wonder how you could possibly explain turning into a train wreck of a woman to your friends. Will you embrace it? Run away from it? How will you ever get used to this? The choice is yours, dear mortal."

And with that, he vanishes before your very eyes, taking his lamp with him, leaving you stuck as this enormous slob of a woman.