Gene of the Lamp
It was a lamp that caught the coyote's attention. It was a curious-looking thing, with glass panes supported by a metal frame. One of the panes was held in place by a latch, signifying that it was capable of swinging outwards, allowing access to the wick inside. When Alan asked about the strange item, the proprietor, a jackal so old he was grey as a stone, simply smiled mysteriously. "That's an oil lamp, that. They were the main source of light before electricity. That one's said to have magical properties."
"Properties? What kind of properties?" inquired the curious coyote, but no matter how much he pressed, the jackal would give no further information. Slightly frustrated, Alan studied the object. It seemed so... so mundane. How could something like that be magical? Sighing, he checked the price tag. Despite the age the proprietor insinuated the lamp had, it was fairly cheap. Supposed magical properties or not, it was still a nice piece; the coyote pulled out his credit card and paid for the lamp.
The grey jackal chuckled. "Enjoy that," he intoned as Alan left the shop.
When he got back to his house, the coyote set his keys on a small table by the doorway. He brought the small lamp into the kitchen, where he set it on the table. "Magical properties, huh?" Alan muttered, staring intently at the glass-and-metal construct. "Wonder what he meant by that." He picked up the oil lamp and turned it in his hands, but saw nothing that could possibly distinguish it.
"Old jackal must'a been crazy," he mumbled to himself. "There's nothing wrong with this lamp." He got up from the table and fumbled in one of the kitchen drawers for a candle lighter. Unlatching the side of the lamp, he pressed the button on the lighter until it lit and hurriedly pressed the flame against the wick.
As soon as the wick caught, thick smoke of a color that reminded Alan of a chocolate bar began to flood out of the open lamp. Startled, the coyote stepped backwards, tripped over the leg of a chair, and fell onto his back. Meanwhile the smoke drifted into the corner of the kitchen, where it coalesced into the shape of a short marten with fur the same color as the smoke had been.
As Alan sat up, gaping in shock at the strange creature that had materialized in his kitchen, the marten stretched, gazing around the room. "Ooh... It's about time someone let me out. It was getting a wee bit stuffy in there," the mustelid complained in a British accent. His eyes settled on the canid sprawled on the floor. "So you're my new master, eh? Don't seem to be much of a king or a lord. Or is there a different caste system these days?"
The coyote got back to his feet, inching slowly away from the strange being. "What... what are you?" he asked warily, his tan fur bristling.
The marten was exploring the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and rummaging through the bits of food he found there. He received a bit of a nasty shock when he opened up the freezer, his whiskers twitching at the sudden cold. "Eh! Some kind of glorified ice box, is this?" At Alan's question, the creature grinned widely. "I am Gene, at your service. I have been trapped in that lamp for quite a long time now, and in gratitude I now grant you three wishes." The brown-furred marten bowed dramatically.
Alan's jaw dropped. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. The coyote asked the first question he could think of, which happened to be "Gene... the genie?"
"Oi!" the marten snapped irritably. "Don't judge! It happened to be a very common name when I was born."
Apparently the genie's name was a touchy subject. "Alright. Okay. Uh, three wishes. Right. Any limitations?" The coyote wasn't a fool - he'd heard stories about genies before. He'd just never believed they were true.
"No wishing for more wishes, no wishing for more genies - there are so few of us nowadays, no bringing anyone back from the dead, and no forcing someone to love you," Gene rattled off, counting on his fingers. "Other than that, it's up to the limits of your imagination."
Alan could think of several things he'd like the cute fluffy marten to do, but he thought it would be best to spend these wishes wisely. For inspiration, he decided to turn to some of the sexual fantasies he had. After a moment, he knew what he wanted from the genie. But he knew he had to be very particular about his phrasing - genies weren't known for their accuracy, after all - and he also had to figure out what order to put the questions in. The wrong order, and he wouldn't get the results he desired. The right order, however...
He decided to start with the simplest one first, the one least likely to scare the marten off. "I want to be able to control my virility - to be able to impregnate any female of my choosing, whether she's in heat or not."
"Eh? Got a thing for the milky ones?" The marten smirked. "You might wanna use the word 'wish' in that, mate. Otherwise I can't grant it." Alan rolled his eyes before repeating the request. The genie snapped his fingers in a z-formation and the coyote immediately felt a twisting sensation somewhere deep inside him. "Now all you have to do is find some poor lass to test it out on," the marten said cheerfully. "Next wish."
"I wish to be able to call upon you from the lamp at any time, no matter whether I am in possession of the lamp or not, to willingly perform any sexual act of my choosing, so long as I am still alive - and furthermore, you will always be submissive to me during such times, unless I direct otherwise."
The furry mustelid raised an eyebrow at Alan. "Such a complicated wish. Guess you've heard about the small print if specifications aren't made, eh? Well, I suppose I can deal with being your pet. You mortals do have such comparatively short life spans." Again Gene did the strange ritual, and again Alan felt the strange twisting in his gut. "Third and final wish, mate. It's up to you."
A grin slowly spread across the coyote's muzzle. "My final wish is this: transform yourself into a woman equally as sexy as you are now - and make sure the parts work, too." He could feel his tail begin to wag as he thought of the plans he had in mind for the sexy marten.
Gene's jaw dropped. "But - but - but I don't WANT to be a giiiiirl!" the genie whined pitiably.
So pitiably, in fact, that Alan almost changed his mind. But then he shook his head. "Nope. I made my wish, and I'm not taking it back. Go on, girl. Change yourself. Oh, and take off your clothes before you do it. I want to watch." The coyote sat in a chair to watch the show.
The marten scowled at him, but on such a cute face, it was hard to take the little mustelid seriously. "Fiiiiine," he whimpered, giving in and stripping himself of his clothes. With another snap of his fingers, Gene's body began to change. His furry chest swelled outwards, each expanding to be roughly half the size of the marten's head. His head itself became more feminine in appearance, eyes becoming large and moist like a doe's. Even the marten's body arranged itself, waist slimming and hips growing wider to give him an hourglass figure.
The change next focused on Gene's genetalia. The marten's balls slowly shrunk until they vanished, his sheath moving downwards to rest where a woman's parts would, slowly changing form until they became the folds of a female. He - she, now - shuddered as the changes to her sex worked their way inwards, removing any trace of the marten's former self and making her solely female.
"Well... now that's done," the marten said, sounding exhausted from the changes to her body. "If you don't mind, I'll be going back to my lamp now." She began to cross the room to the table where the lamp was still lit.
"Not so fast, pet," interrupted the coyote, grasping the she-marten around the waist. "I haven't played with you yet." He nibbled at the junction where her neck met her shoulder, causing her to let out an involuntary yip of surprise. "If I were to breed you, would our children be furs or genies?"
"Whaa?" Gene yelped. "No, no - I don't want to be a mum!" She attempted to wriggle out of Alan's grasp, but the canine held her tight.
"Don't even try," he crowed triumphantly. "Wish two means you have to perform any sexual act I want you too. And right now," the coyote continued, loosening his belt buckle, "I want to breed you like the bitch you are. Now bend over the table." Once the marten had done so, he pushed his pants the rest of the way down, freeing the red cock that was already beginning to poke out of his sheathe.
Alan rubbed the tip against her slit, which was already growing wet with arousal despite the marten's claims that she didn't want to be bred. He continued to grind against her for several moments, making sure she was well and truly soaked before he pushed into her. As the virginal barrier within the marten gave way, he reflected that the name "Gene" no longer suited the female.
"I think you need a new name, pet," he commented as he began to rock his hips into her. "What do you think of Haley?" Each of his thrusts caused the marten to let out unintelligible squeaks. "Sorry, what was that, Haley? Do you like your new name?"
Realizing that her master couldn't understand her, Gene - Haley - nodded vigorously. The marten was quivering against the table, and Alan had the idea that the wooden structure was the only thing keeping her from falling nervelessly to the floor - well, that and the canine's shaft. The little mustelid was incredibly tight - he had to grit his teeth to keep himself from blowing his load before he knotted her.
The knot slammed against her slit with each thrust. He wasn't sure it would be able to fit, but he knew he had to try anyway. Alan leaned over Haley and nibbled on her ear possessively. "Be a good girl and relax for me," he growled. The little marten bit her lip and used her leverage to press back against the large canine. That extra push was enough. The coyote's knot popped into the poor mustelid. Haley cried out in shock, and Alan grinned, knowing that the genie would be walking bowlegged after this.
"Get ready to be filled with my puppies, pet." The canine could feel his virility taking effect as he unleashed his seed straight into the marten's waiting womb. His knot ensured that they would be tied for a while, guaranteeing that as many of her eggs as possible were fertilized. Once he relaxed enough to pull out, Haley gave him a pouty look over one shoulder before vanishing in a cloud of chocolate-colored smoke which pooled back into the lamp.
Alan blew out the candle flame and moved down the hall to the bathroom. After his adventure with the genie, he needed to get cleaned up. As he stepped into the shower, he couldn't help but grin. Buying that lamp had been one of the best decisions he'd ever made.