"You're doing great, keep it up!"


We were alone now. Except maybe for an older lady in the deepest section of the pool, but that didn't really count. Vivian was completing her final set of exercises of the afternoon and she seemed as tired of it as she probably was. She only needed to complete two laps in total and was down to her last half. I followed her closely. Every time I left her alone in times like these, or if I kept my distance when she got hungry, my hair would start smelling like burned toast. We had bonded through her wish and I had a duty to fulfil or else my powers would consume me on the spot. My hands stayed close to her body, only once or twice pushing her closer to the surface when she struggled too much. Her face stuck out of the water like the tip of an iceberg while the rest of her body stayed submerged. Activated by her abs, her hips swung up and down like the tail of a fish, slowly propelling her to the other side of the pool, her shoulders sometimes swinging along with the motion. When her head finally hit the tiles, I let her rest on my knee and propped her against the wet sides of the pool.


"And that's it for today!" I said with a smile. I let her catch her breath and relax while I cleared the water out of her eyes. "Judging by the time, I think we should take your shower here before heading out for the evening. What do you think?"

Her rib cage was still rising rapidly and she took her time to answer. "Yeah, sure. I'm getting hungry though. We'll grab something on the way there?"

"Of course, Vivian."


I secured her against my body with both hands and exited the pool by the stairs, in one of the corners of the shallowest section. I wasn't very strong, but I didn't have much trouble carrying her around. First wrapping her towel around her shoulders, I quickly dried myself and put mine around my neck before kneeling to pick her up once again, one hand beneath her ass, the other one on her back. She craned her neck to watch where we were headed, looking out for anyone who would happen to hang around the corridors. After a quick pit-stop in the locker room for soap and shampoo, I walked us to the handicapped shower stall and scrubbed us both clean. I had to put her on the seat to shampoo and rinse her hair, but could manage to wash her body with a single hand if I angled her on my left hip, again supporting her back with my hand. We were getting pretty used to this routine and she seemed less and less bothered by the whole concept of our two naked bodies being in contact.


"Do you actually need to shower at all?" She asked out of the blue.


Her question took me by surprise. Of course I showered everyday when I was living my life alone, but now that I had assumed the role of a genie I didn't really think about it. I could've scrubed me clean just by snapping my fingers, which I could also have done before when I think about it. I stopped the flow of water coming from the shower and shook the water out of her hair. 


"I don't but I enjoy the feel of it." I lied. "When you're trapped for long stretches of time, even regular things like showering can become extremely satisfying." Again, I certainly wasn't trapped for 100 years in that lamp, but this wasn't entirely a lie. It sure felt good to scrub my own skin after getting it back.

"Oh. Okay then."


She followed this with a shrug, her bare shoulder rising towards her ears making the skin tighten against her ribs. She was facing away from me, but I knew something was starting to change with her. She was becoming more and more compliant with this situation, making jokes or comments like she just did. It had been four weeks now, and she had rarely addressed her wish directly. Instead, she had been trapped in a vicious circle of self-loathing and hatred towards me, sighing loudly at herself or making sharp remarks when I helped her around. Last Monday, she asked me to go shopping and we bought quite a few things along with a black one-piece swimsuit so she could at least try to stay in shape. Two pool lengths, three times a week. Today was the last day of the first week.

After having dried her and slipped on her panties, I turned her around and put my towel around my body, making it into a short dress. As I reached for her bra and shirt, she stopped me.


"Wait!" She said, her left shoulder extended forward.

"Don't you like that color?" I mocked her, placing her bra vis-à-vis my breasts.

"No it's not that." She frowned and looked away, her eyes catching her towel hanging behind me, then the door leading out of the stall. "I'd like to wear my new dress."

"Well it's in the locker, I'll get it and be right ba..."

"No, it's been long enough." She interrupted. If she had had feet, she would've stomped them. Instead, she swung her right hip forward. "I can deal with this now."


She straightened herself, assuming a confident pose. In the silence, we could hear the voice of several people filling the locker room, which had been empty only a few minutes before. I raised my eyebrows at her and she nodded. I wrapped her in the towel again, grabbed the bag of clothes I had prepared for us both and pushed the door open.


-------------------


In a big puff of smoke, created only for the need of the show, her wish had been sealed. From the nails of her fingers and toes up to the very last atom of bone connecting to her torso, all four of her limbs instantaneously ceased to exist. The pants of her jeans deflated and laid flat against the couch. Her remaining sock, the other having fled when I had first materialised, collapsed on the floor. The sleeves of her shirt met a similar fate and fell against her sides to reveal two protruding collarbones where no arms could be found. When the smoke had dispersed, she froze. For a moment, only her head turned. To the right, to the left, then downwards. When her ring and bracelets bounced on the dirty plates and banged on the floor, she squirmed as if to try and catch them. Then, she screamed. First it was more of a loud screech, but after a few breaths I started to recognise words again.



I smiled. "I granted your wish. You wished for me to take..."


"You wished for me to.."


I raised my voice but refrained from yelling. "You wished for me to take care of you. I distorted your wish for my own pleasure and fun. You had been warned."



Her shoulders moved hastily beneath her shirt, reaching in all directions. Her sleeves swayed along with her movements.


"You should know that genies are incredibly vile, waiting for every opportunity to fuck you up. You played directly into my hands."


I was still standing before her in my ancient attire while she laid back against the couch, squirming helplessly from side to side inside her oversized clothes. 



"Not so faaaaast, girl. You were aware of the details. Only one wish a year. You're gonna have to wait another 364 days, 23 hours, 54 minutes and 25 seconds, 24, 23..."



Having leaned forward too much after yelling for the umpteenth time I felt a sharp jolt run on my scalp as I watched her fall off the couch. I reached out to grab her and she immediately tried to bite me, wriggling stronger than ever in my arms, her reduced body flapping like a fish out of the water. I put her back on the couch, laying on her back where she turned and writhed in her own anger, yelling a few more obscenities at me in the process. She craned her neck to take another good look at herself and shuddered. She whimpered as she tried to control her own body, which was now barely responsive to any of her commands. Encouraging the empty folds of fabric of her clothes to move, she wriggled her hips and shoulders uselessly.

To my surprise, I heard a loud knock on the door leading out of her appartment. I snapped my fingers to change my clothes into hospital scrubs before answering it hastily. 


"What the fuck is going on in there..."


The voice was coming from the other side of the door. When I opened it, the bushiest mustache I had ever seen appeared in front of me, sitting above a policeman's angered upper lip. 


"Hi Miss, is there a problem?!" He flashed his badge in front of me before speaking again: "We've had reports of someone in here screaming to death, I'm going to have to get through."

I showed him a tag of my own. "Nurse Peters. I was assigned this case, I just got here and we were talking and she started..."



"Miss, stand aside." His hand near his gun, I followed him as he proceeded down the corridor. When we reached Vivian, he turned to me, confused. "What am I looking at, exactly Miss?"

I cleared my throat. "Miss Jones has been in need of constant supervision since her accident, which resulted in the complete amputation of her four limbs." I produced a chart from behind my back. "Her most recent helper had to move away and I was assigned to her today, but she refuses to hear anything I..."


"Let me inspect that badge, Miss."


Meanwhile, he allowed me to pick Vivian back up, who was now struggling on the floor of the living room, tangling herself in the empty sleeves of her clothes. Tears rolled down her face as I placed her upright on the couch again and secured her with a belt I had just summoned. I joined the officer.


"What's with the clothes?" He pointed to her jeans, which she so poorly filled.

"I'm assuming that's part of her grief, Officer. Most victims of amputations have symptoms of grief quite close if not stronger than when loved ones perish.  Maybe the previous nurse put them on before she left earlier today."



I called his attention to a specific line of her chart. Disconnection from reality. Schizophrenic tendencies. Rejection of the accident, it's causes, or any of it's consequences. 


"Let me just confirm these information with one of her friends. Protocol."

"Of course Officer."


Vivian was sobbing now. She still squirmed against the tightened belt, but with less force and conviction than before. Her eyes moved from one shoulder to the other as she encouraged her collapsed sleeves to fill again. Officer Mustache stayed on the phone for several minutes with a girl named Chloe, whom I was supposed to end up jinxing instead of Vivian, and bombarded her with questions about her friend's whereabouts. After several minutes, he hung up.


"Well it was all a misunderstanding, I'm sorry to have bothered you both."

"WHAT?!" Vivian shouted again, her voice now noticeably quieter then before, while still very aggressive.

"Your friend Chloe told me all about your day. When Nurse Howard was dismissed early in the morning, Chloe came here and picked you up. You spent the day together, including going to the night club you just spoke about."

She sighed of relief. "Thank you Officer, I knew I wasn't.."

"Which was very crowded and was incommoded by the size of your electric wheelchair. Your friend then brought you here, dressed you up like this at your demands and left you in front of the TV to wait for your replacement Nurse."


Her jaw dropped. The officer asked to see the chair before departing, just to be sure everything was in order. Then, he wished me good luck and left. I joined her in the living room.


"Will you please behave now? I still have your wish to fulfil."


I kneeled in front of her, levelling her eyes with mine. She didn't answer. In fact, she didn't seem to know what to think or do next. She had slumped back in the couch and stared back at me with lifeless eyes.


"Okay. Yes, I did strip you of your limbs. No arms, no legs, that's pretty rough. But you get taken care of, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for the whole year! No dishes, no cleaning, no cooking, gosh I might even have to help you study and pass your exams, too! Isn't that what you wanted?!"


She sighed. Twice. Then three other times. She closed her eyes, still muttering things to herself, her shoulders and her pelvis still twitching at the four corners of her body, now just as mobile as a stuffed pillow. Slowly, slowly, I saw her give in and she looked back at me before staring down at herself.


"Bring me in front of a mirror." She said.


The seat belt vanished and I picked her up, securing her body against my own as I walked and set her on the bathroom cupboard, in front of the mirror that covered the entire wall. She pressed her lips together as she examined herself. I put her hair up to clear it out of her vision and her neck.


"The shirt." She said, leaning her head to one side. "Take it off."


I grabbed her dangling sleeves and pulled up, effectively throwing her shirt over her head. At the sight of her naked shoulders, she shivered and frowned. She twisted her torso from side to side to inspect them from all angles, finding nothing more that she already couldn't feel. The straps of her bra hung loosely near the edge of her shoulders. Shrugging brought her as much dismay. She spoke again firmly.


"Pants." She sniffed.


Pushing her alternatively on one butt cheek, then the other, I plucked her out of her pants. Without any legs, her genitals seemed overly exposed, vulnerable, and her balance impossible to maintain. After a few failed attempts on her part, I rotated her and she craned her neck to look at her butt. And just when I thought she'd explode in anger again, she laughed.

But not the laugh of someone who's having fun. The laugh of a maniac. The laugh of someone who has been completely and entirely broken. She had lost the control over the situation and she couldn't figure how to deal with all of this. Instead, she simply laughed until her voice cracked and she could no longer speak.


-------


At that point I'm not sure if it can still be called staring. I had become used to getting double takes in public when I modified my own body or someone else's just for fun. After all, what use is there to change if there isn't anybody to notice it? However, at this point, her being scrutinised was more appropriate to describe Vivian and I's situation as we walked out the shower stall. Elbows poked ribs and chins pointed our way as I set her on a bench against the wall, her entire body comprised inside of her towel. She noticed it. And for the first time, she didn't seem to care, but rather embraced it. She squirmed and writhed, adjusting her position, or attempting to free herself of the towel. She reached over it using one of her empty shoulders and ran it repeatedly back and forth against the fabric, successfully causing it to crumple around her naked body. I took it away and clipped her bra in place, leaving her exposed for all to see while I took my time fetching things in the locker. 


"I think I'm getting the hang of this whole swimming thing." She said, speaking above the sounds of ruffling clothes and banging doors. "It's in the hips really."


As I lifted her, she started swinging her hips around again, just like she had done in the pool several minutes ago. 


"Would you stop? I'm actually trying to get you dressed!" I laughed as I tried to hold her body against my own while simultaneously trying to adjust her panties on her buttocks. "You wouldn't want me to drop you, would you?"

"Are you insinuating something here?" She replied mockingly. Her shoulders rubbed against my skin as if she tried to hold on to me. "I'm the one doing all the work here."


Instead of avoiding looks, she candidly challenged them, smiling to the other women as they stopped what they were doing to steal a glance at us. They all seemed to want their own mental picture of the limbless girl in the locker room, and had become a lot less subtle in trying to snag it. But Vivian was toying with them, now. Purposefully struggling in my arms to get their attention, making sure she showcased what little she had to try and escape my grasp and how miserably she failed to do so. She had never done anything remotely close to this before. Something inside her had changed.

Moments later, I slipped a pair of adjusted spandex short up her hips, hiding away the flat patch of skin that had replaced her legs, and laid her flat on her back on the narrow wooden bench. I pretended to leave her there, worming in her helplessness, as she called out for me and pleaded the others to help her up. Uneasy about suddenly being called to action on her, none did.

Back from my walk around the block, I set her on the bench once again and fit her head through the opening of a floral summer dress. She swung the stray hair out of her face while I dressed myself and packed our things. Then, I lifted her up and carried her over to her wheelchair under the supervision of a few dozen pairs of attentive eyes.