I'm a thirty year old male (I don't flatter myself with the term 
man) and have had a very active, if not very imaginative, fantasy life 
for nearly all my life.  When I was young, I used to picture myself in 
the roles of my heros:  Robin Hood, He-Man, Dr. Doom, Superman, even 
Godzilla.  As you can see, these figments of popular fiction had the one 
thing I most certainly lacked--power.  Their boundries, whether it be for 
heroic acts, acts of strenth or intellect, or mere destructive power, 
were nearly unlimited.  For a young boy of my mediocre abilities, 
imagining myself without boundries was heady stuff indeed.
	As I got older and more and more awkward with the onset of that 
horrible time called puberty, when all your instincts tell you to do 
things that your upbringing has not prepared you in the least to do, my 
fantasy life, quite predictably, took on sexual elements.  No longer was 
it enough to perform heroic acts in my mind; I must perform heroic acts 
in my mind for one of the beauties in whatever class I was sitting, 
earning, of course, the hero's reward.  Great feats of strength, 
intellect, or destructive power were now geared to the fullfillment of my 
purile adolescent fantasies, which was as it should have been.
	I was not, throughout junior high and high school, the most 
popular of children.  In fact, I might have been considered one of those 
rare boys whom both the jocks and the nerds, as well as every girl 
concerned at all with the opinions of others (in other words, every girl) 
despised.  I don't believe it was because of my looks, which although 
plain, were not particularly repulsive.  Nor do I believe it was through 
any intellectual defect, since, although I was no genius, school came 
reasonably easy to me.  It is, to this day, like so much of the 
interactions between human beings, inexplicable to me why I was so 
reviled.
	It does not matter, for it was so, and it drove me ever deeper 
into my fantasy life.  One of my favorite fantasies, one which I would 
replay over and over again in my mind, was the Genie in the Bottle 
fantasy.  Simply, I, through luck or need or the righting of the cosmic 
balance, would receive or come upon an old, elaborite bottle which 
contained a Genie.  Out pops the Genie, male or female or ether depending 
upon my mood, ready to grant me the three wishes every Genie seems to 
have stored away in some cosmic pool of wonder.  Of course, as every boy 
knows, Genies are apt to play unfairly, delighting in twisting every 
innocent sounding wish into something to torment the wisher.  No, in my 
fantasy it was not safe merely to wish for something from my Genie; I 
must, through torturous mental application, frame my wishes so exactly, 
with multitudes of conditions and exceptions, that sometimes I failed to 
complete even one wish before the real world rudely pulled me away from 
the attainment of my fondest desires.
	These desires were, without saying, mundane in the most extreme 
sense:  wealth, power, and the adoration of men and women, especially 
women.  I thought up thousands of ways to frame these wishes, and 
imagined thousands of ways in which I could enjoy their fruits.  It was 
all rather pathetic, I know, but I was young and unpopular, a curse worse 
than any witch or demon or goblin ever placed on some poor upright soul 
in all the literature in the world.  So that was the state of things as I 
entered college, grateful to escape the reality of high school and hoping 
to make new, or any, friends, and especially looking forward to my first 
sexual experience, since everyone knew college girls were easy.
	College, sadly, did not turn out to be the social bonanza I was 
hoping for.  That black cloud over my head, that evil mojo that I could 
not shake, that unknown quantity or quality which I possessed, followed 
me to my new society, subtly alienating everyone around me until I was 
left as I had always been left, alone with my fantasies.  Although it was 
something I was used to, it was nonetheless a terrible blow; I had raised 
my hopes so high, believed so much, that a new place would mean a new me, 
that I was devastated when it turned out to be untrue.  I felt betrayed, 
cast out, worthless.
	It was in this state I spent the first two years of my college 
existence, with only my increasingly complex fantasy life sustaining me.  
Now I was President or Governer or had Mental Powers or wielded some 
other great amount of power in some other way, and slowly revenge 
elements creeped into my fantasy world.  No longer was it enough to save 
the world from nuclear annihilation and recieve the gratitude of the 
world's supermodels, now I had also to crush some insignificant bug, some 
horrible person who I imagined had looked at me funny as he passed me on 
the street, grinding him beneath my heel before I could truly enjoy my 
rewards.  Even my purely sexual fantasies took on a violent edge:  I 
would be a martial artist fighting some ninja master evil woman, 
beautiful but deadly, who sat in one of my classes but refused to look 
in my direction; I would defeat her after grueling combat and force 
myself upon her sexually, punishing her for not wanting me.  In my 
fantasy, of course, although they fought tooth and nail, they all ended 
up loving it and begging to remain with me as my love slave.  More purile 
sexual fantasies, I know, but remember, I was twenty years old and still 
a virgin; I had no idea what I was fantasizing about.
	All that changed one night shortly before my twenty first 
birthday, because I finally, my wildest (well, my most realistic 
actually) dreams coming true, got lucky.  Lucky is the operative word, 
you must understand, since as I thought about it later I realized I, for 
once in my life, had been in the right place at the right time.  The 
right place and the right time was walking down frat row on a Thursday 
evening, coming home from a long day of fantasizing at the student 
library and trying to dodge all the drunken, partying students who 
frequented that area at that time.  Luckily (there's that word again) I 
couldn't avoid three drunked sorority girls who were staggering down the 
sidewalk towards me.
	It may help to show the depths to which I had sunk to say that I 
hardly noticed the girls except as obstructions to my journy homeward, 
even though they were, I will say, quite attractive and dressed very 
provocatively in high heels, mini skirts, and spandex tops.  To continue 
my story, I was walking down the sidewalk, lost in my fantasies, when a 
commotion up ahead distracted me and caught my attention; the commotion 
was the three girls, the two on the outside laughing and staggering a 
joshing the girl between them.  More obstacles, I thought, and began to 
make my way unobtrusively around them, only, to my great shock, to be 
stopped by a feminine hand on my upper arm.
	I turned, quite discomfited, and faced a tall, slim, attractive 
bleached blond sorority girl, who happened to be raging drunk and 
gripping my arm firmly.  I remember what happened next quite vividly, 
although I am sure my memory has adjusted certain parts to suit my own 
particular self image.
	"Hey," she said to me, "my friend here" and she nodded to the 
shapely brunette girl she and her friend were bodily holding up between 
them, and who looked at me happily drunk, "my friend here" she repeated, 
"needs a little company."  They all giggled and laughed at that.  "Come on,"
she said and started tugging on my arm, meaning for me to follow her.
	This had to be one of the most terrifying events in my life to 
that date, and I followed in a state of shock and not a little bit of 
dismay; I didn't seem to realize that all I had to do to escape was use a 
little strength to pull my arm from the girl holding it and walk briskly 
away.  Besides, these were WOMEN, and having never been the object of 
anything but negative attention from the female of the species, I was 
overwhelmed by what appeared to me to be very positive attention, or, at 
the least, soon to be very postive attention.
	I was not wrong in my estimation:  staggering and laughing, they 
dragged me, staggering and stunned, into a frat house, through the mob 
dancing and cavorting to a sound deafening even when compared to the 
noise of a jet engine, and upstairs into a bedroom.  Once there, her two 
friends threw the brunette against me, making sure, I am now convinced, 
that her momentum would carry us crashing onto the bed.  In that 
seemingly eternal second between the time she staggered into me and the 
time we landed together onto the bed, I felt for the first time the 
utterly unique sensation of a female grasping and groping my entire body 
while similtaneously trying to press her lips full against mine, her 
boozy breath strong in my nostrils and her luscious body squirming 
against my very, very stiff one.
	Once on the bed it was only a short while before her mini-skirt 
was bunched around her waist and my pants and underwear (she wasn't 
wearing any, much to my surprise and delight) were around my knees.  Her 
friends must have been watching us as we squirmed around together on the 
bed, her intoxicated state combining with my total inexperience to, I'm 
sure, make quite an amusing sight, but I, lost as I was by now in a 
sexual fog, did not care; all I cared about was finding the right hole in 
which to place my throbbing member, which is, for a novice, much harder 
than it sounds.  My fumbling did not upset my partner; on the contrary, 
she giggled and reached down and put me inside her.  Once firmly in place 
I had no more trouble, and started humping like a rabid jackrabbit that 
has discovered that it has only a few more minutes to live, and is 
determined to get the most out of that little time.
	Like that jackrabbit, I am afraid to say, that little death came 
quickly upon me, and as I lay soft and spent upon my brunette lover, I 
was overcome with a sense of reality.  The three girls combined to roll 
me off the girl and left, leaving me to face the ugly consequences of my 
actions; now that I had satisfied my formerly never before satisfied 
lust, I realized what a small and pitiful thing it was, how demeaned and 
degraded it had made me.  I quickly pulled up my pants to cover up my 
shame and walked home as fast as my legs could carry me, thinking that 
everyone I passed saw what a pitiful and malignant creature I truly was, 
and that was not the last of my worries:  what if I had caught some 
horrible venerial disease from that girl?  My mind recounted the 
thousands of miserable possibilities, all including various grotesque 
deformities, and for once I hated my overactive imagination.
	In the final analysis, my experience with those three drunken 
sorority girls left me with one, and only one (no, it was not a vd, thank 
god), thing, a deep abiding sense of disillusionment.  I had been, up to 
that point in my life, a romantic; all my fantasies, revenge laced as 
they may have been, saw good triumphing over evil and saw sex as a 
glorious experience of pleasure and binding.  Reality, I now realized, 
was completely different, with sex being a gross, ugly distortion of the 
way I had imagined it should be; no, not only imagined, but demanded it 
should be.  The next few months, needless to say, were unhappy times for 
me; with this conclusion, I must revise my thinking, and say that my 
encounter with these girls was far from lucky--unlucky would be more 
correct. 
	In this state of depression and disillusionment I spent my twenty 
first birthday like I seem to have spent most of my birthdays, alone, but 
this time with a twist, since I had decided to go out and do something on 
this particular day.  So my birthday found me wandering along a sandy 
stretch of ground abutting the ocean, desolutely kicking at the surf 
which flowed over my bare feet.  At some point during this listless 
ambulation, a madness of a sort grasped me in its vicious claws, and I 
decided to take my own life, and what could be better, my mind, now my 
enemy, said to me:  here's the ocean, waiting to carry you back to the 
sweet oblivion of the womb, of eternal sleep.
	My body, obeying the traitorous commands of my mind, turned to 
carry me out to sea, to a gasping, painful death below the waves, 
deprived of the precious air that is life.  It was then that the divine 
intervened, for how can I explain what happened then except to say that 
God or some gods willed it to be so?  I stumbled over something lying in 
the surf, and when I looked down to see what had delayed me in my search 
for Nirvana, all thoughts of death fled my mind:  I beheld the stuff of 
my dreams, an elaborately blown glass bottle, opaquely reddish and 
stoppered firmly with a cork swollen by the salten waters of the ocean.
	I bent down to pick it up, my heart fluttering within my rib cage 
as my mind strove against itself to bury my fantasies under the reality 
of the world:  there were no such things as genies, this was only an old 
piece of junk which washed up on the beach at an opportune time, but I 
did not believe.  There would be, I believed with all my heart as I 
struggled manfully to pull the cork from the bottle, a genie in this 
bottle, a genie capable of granting me my every wish.  Imagine my 
surprise when I finally managed to pull out the cork and was greeted by a 
booming voice.
	"FREE, FREE AT LAST!"
	From my position on my ass I saw the air coelesce before me into 
the form of a giant bald head attached to an enormous barrel chest ending 
in a wisp of smoke.
	"AHAHA," the voice boomed some more, sending me deeper into 
shock, "THANK YOU OH MORTAL FOR RELEASING ME FROM MY PRISON."  It gazed 
down on me, a huge broad smile on its insubstantial face.  I rubbed my 
eyes and looked again--it did not disappear; instead, its smoky substance 
seemed to flow into a different form, until it stood before me as a 
naked, sexless, hairless manaquin with bulging muscles and bright, 
shining eyes.  I scrambled to my feet in time to meet his bow as he spoke 
one more time.
	"HOW CAN I REPAY YOU, BREAKER OF THE MIGHTY SPELLS WHICH BOUND 
ME?  THE STANDARD THREE WISHES, PERHAPS?"
	I had gone insane, I was convinced, although I much prefered this 
madness to the one which sought to take my life.  There was nothing for 
me to do, though, except play along with my torturous mind, which was so 
willing for me to see my fantasies finally come to life.
	"Okay," I said boldly, "three wishes.  My first wish is..." and 
then I began to detail, in great depth, how I would aquire great, in fact 
nearly boundless, wealth, using all the experience of my fantasies to 
insure that there were no loopholes available for this nearly all 
powerful being to twist my meaning into a curse.  The genie listened 
patiently for five minutes before interupting.
	"HAHAHAHAHA!  OH PUNY MORTAL WORM.  DO YOU THINK I WOULD CARE TO 
TRICK YOU?  DO YOU THINK IF YOU ASKED FOR UNIMAGINABLE WEALTH I WOULD 
GIVE YOU GOLD WHICH NO ONE WOULD TAKE BECAUSE THEY COULD NOT IMAGINE IT 
EXISTING?  HAHAHAHAHA!  I AM A SPIRIT OF THE ETHER!  THE VAST BOUNDLESS 
SKY IS MY DOMAIN!  I WAS BORN TWIN TO THE UNIVERSE AND WILL LAST UNTIL 
SPACE AND TIME COLLAPSE UPON THEMSELVES!  ONLY THE GREATEST, MOST 
TERRIBLE SPELLS OF YOUR RACE OF DUST COULD EVEN CAPTURE ME FOR AN 
INSTANT!  WHAT CARE I FOR YOU OR YOUR PUNY DESIRES?  THEY ARE YOURS.  
ASK! AND THE WORLD WILL BE YOURS!"
	I don't want you to think that I believed him for a second, even 
though what he said turned out to be absolutely true, but I decided that 
if, in my madness, I had created a genie which said he was not going to 
try to trick me, then I was going to believe him; why doubt my own mind?  
"Okay, then first I want unlimited wealth."
	"DONE!" the genie roared.  
	I looked around me, hoping perhaps for a huge pile of gold to 
materialize from thin air, or for hundred dollar bills to fall from the 
sky, or any other sign of miraculous powers revealing themselves to me, 
making me instantly a rich man, but nothing had changed.  "Well...?" I 
asked accusingly to the genie; I began wondering why my madness had failed 
me now, just when I had begun to become interested in this little game I 
was playing with myself.
	"LOOK IN YOUR WALLET, OH CREATURE OF DUST AND ASHES!"
	I pulled my wallet from my pocket and gazed into the billfold, 
wondering if it would now produce endless cash; I was disappointed when 
all I saw was two fives and a one dollar bill stuffed where I had put 
them, crumpled up into one side of the billfold.  I was about to turn 
back to the genie and ask him what he was talking about when my eyes fell 
upon a thin piece of colored paperboard which I immediately recognized as 
a lottery ticket.  So I had been given a winning lottery ticket, I 
thought, and although properly impressed, I was also most certainly 
disappointed, for the million or so dollars this ticket would bring was 
nothing compared to the amount of wealth I had actually requested.  
	Holding the ticket I turned back to the genie and made ready to 
speak, but he, perhaps seeing the expression on my face, spoke before I 
could, saying, "AH, MORTAL, THAT IS ONLY PART OF YOUR FIRST WISH.  
AWAITING YOU AT HOME IS A MESSAGE FROM A FAMOUS FINANCIAL ADVISOR, WHO 
WILL TURN THAT PALTRY AMOUNT YOU HOLD IN YOUR HAND INTO UNBELIEVABLE 
SUMS, TRULY UNLIMITED AMOUNTS, OF WEALTH.  ARE YOU SATISFIED, OH LOW ONE 
IN THE SCHEME OF THE UNIVERSE?"
	I had to say I was, if everything the figment of my imagination 
said was true; of course, I believed that in a few moments I would 
probably wake up face down in the sand with a rather nasty concussion of 
some sort, or maybe I was dying and my mind was hiding behind this 
childhood myth.  At any rate, I did not care; I was having fun.
	My next wish, since I, although only twenty one, was feeling my 
age, being of a rather morbid and introspective turn of mind, was for 
immortality fixed at the age of twenty six (an arbitrary pick of ages, 
really, since I did not see too many differences between the ages twenty 
four through thirty).
	"DONE!  OH MOST WORTHLESS OF CREATURES IN THIS COSMOS."
	I must make a comment before I continue this story:  I was, by 
this time, growing quite tired of the attitude this being, which anyway 
was only a temperary chemical imbalance in my brain, was taking toward 
me, calling me worm and worthless and dust.  Since, though, he was giving 
me everything I had ever wanted in life, I decided to put up with it, 
knowing that he would take off after he granted my last wish, which was 
the ability to control the minds and bodies of others.
	"OH HO HO, OH KING OF WORMS, YOUR FINAL WISH IS GRANTED.  I WISH 
YOU FARE WELL AND WILL SEE YOU AT THE END OF TIME."  With those final 
words, the genie shot off into the air at an amazing speed and soon 
disappeared from sight.  At this time I fully expected to come back to my 
senses, for the lottery ticket to have disappeared from my hand and for 
reality to have set back in.  I had had my fun, and now it was time to 
get back to real life; it came as a shock then, when I looked down at my 
hand and still found it holding a lottery ticket.  A little bit dazed, I 
put it in my back pocket and began to wander back toward my car, lost 
deep in thought about what had just happened to me and wondering if it 
could actually be true or if it was just a figment of my imagination, 
like I had believed, but was beginning to doubt.  
	My revere was rudely interupted by the sounds of laughter and 
giggling down the shoreline, and I looked up to see a man and a woman, 
he wearing a bathing suit with his chest bare and she wearing a one piece 
bathing suit with a sarong wrap around her waist, walking toward me in 
the distance, talking and laughing and generally carrying on.  It was, I 
know, petty for me to become annoyed at these two human beings, even if 
he reminded me, with his bulging physique and dull expression, of every 
jock I had ever despised and she reminded me, with her long bleached 
blond hair and her small, pretty nose and splattering of freckles, of all 
the women who had ever tormented me in my retiring nature.  
	Annoyed I did become, though, and instantly decided that I would 
now discover whether or not the genie had actually granted me my third 
wish, or if I really had been imagining things.  To this end, I 
concentrated hard and imagined that the young man was peeing his pants; 
while I was so engaged, I felt the strangest sensations:  underneath my 
surface thoughts, my brain, or rather unknown subteranean thoughts, 
seemed to move, sluggishly at first, pushing this way and that, 
gaining speed and precision, until I imagined my mind was the innards of 
an intricate watch, going <clickity clack> as it set my desires into 
motion.  This feeling lasted only a moment, and I stood amazed as I 
watched the man I was concentrating on freeze, gaze down at himself in 
amazement, curse, look around in dismay, and then dash off into the 
ocean.  The woman was calling out to him what was wrong, what was the 
matter, and I, in my amazement at what I had accomplished, decided I 
would see what else my newfound power could do.
	<Clickity clack, clickity clickity clack> my mind went as I tried 
to speak directly to her mind, informing her that her companion had just 
peed in his own pants, and somehow I knew that I had transfered this 
information, that she now knew what I had meant her to know, but knew as 
if she had just come to the conclusion herself.  I continued <clickity 
clack> and thought that it made her hot to imagine him pissing, pissing 
on her, over her naked body, into her mouth, down her nose, all over her; 
in fact, I thought, it made her so hot she was going to orgasm just 
thinking about it.  As I watched, I knew just what she was thinking, for 
I had put it in her mind, and I saw her stop, her hand fluttering down to 
her groin area, and squeeze her legs together and slightly bend over at 
the waist, and I knew she was coming, just as I had mentally told her 
to.  
	Oh joy of joys, I thought, it was all true, all my dreams and 
fantasies had come true that day, and my life would be changed forever 
for the better, but I was not done with the woman yet, for now my 
sadistic side came out, wanting revenge for all the slights of my 
childhood and adolescence; I placed in her mind <clickity clack> that she 
loved being peed on, that every time a warm stream of uring struck her 
body she would grow excited and achieve incredible orgasms, that she 
would beg her boyfriends to pee on her, and would not be satisfied with 
sex, would never orgasm, unless it involved this bodily fluid streaming 
over her body.  I walked away more than satisfied with myself, and 
anticipating, really anticipating, my new life for eternity, with 
unlimited wealth and everybody in the entire world doing just exactly 
what I wanted when I wanted it.
	I will skip over the next few days in which, practicing with my 
newfound powers, I visited endless petty and mundane revenges upon people I 
didn't even know, but who had, by dint of their existence, somehow 
reminded my of my alienation and worthlessness.  Perhaps I should not say 
worthlessness, since my financial advisor had taken money I did not yet 
possess and magically created more money from it, until I was, within a 
few short days, the possessor of a fund of ever increasing wealth, which 
seemed unlimited in its growth potential.
	Finally, though, I screwed up my courage and decided it was time 
to get up close and personal, in a way that I had experienced only one 
very unsatisfactory time before; in other words, I was determined to use 
my powers to possess a woman of my choice for an afternoon.  Perhaps, 
though, I should not use the word woman, for women, even though I was now 
rich and nearly all powerful, still intimidated me in the most extreme 
fashion, to the point where I would find it difficult to talk when one 
was near; therefore, I decided to visit a junior high school (the area in 
which I lived had one college, one high school, and three junior high 
schools, one of which was private), the private one, during their lunch 
time, where I would choose a young girl to satisfy my lusts without 
making me nervous as to my status as a man.  I must say that, by this 
time, I was no longer concerned with my school work, for I was now an 
immensely wealthy man; besides, I could control the minds and bodies of 
others--what need had I for an education?
	I arrived at the school just as the students were being let out 
for lunch, and watched as their thin legs sent them streaming across the 
fenced in campus, their little voices high and loud piercing the air with 
a caucaphany of sound.  I stood and watched the girls at play, eating, 
talking, laughing, waiting patiently for one to strike my fancy, and 
finally one did:  she was as delicate as the pedal of a flower, and as 
innocent as a young dove, and I knew I had to have her.  Looking back, I 
now see that the main reason I was so instantly attracted to this small, 
thirteen year old chinese girl was that she looked so much like a young 
boy, with her boyish face and hips and walk and her short bob of a hair 
cut, that she both appealed to the streak of narcissism which ran through 
me and failed to threaten me in the way that all other women seemed to do.
	Once I saw her, I certainly did not waste any time:  immediately 
my mind went <clickity clack, clickity clack> and instantly the girl knew 
that she had met me yesterday (untrue) and liked me quite a bit, so much 
so in fact that she had agreed to meet me at my apartment, whose location 
she now knew, directly after school; she also knew that she was not even 
going to hint about what she was going to be doing to anyone, but she was 
looking forward to the meeting with great excitement, as well as a 
certain amount of sexual longing.  Imminently satisfied with my work, I 
lingered a few moments, fixing the image of my soon to be lover firmly in my 
mind, before returning home and waiting expectantly for my little chinese 
beauty to arrive.