TicklishLurker
4th Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jan 13, 2006
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Hadji stared at the lid of the lamp and wondered how long he had been sitting on the shelf. He could remember the movement of the lamp when it was dug up. The swaying as it was transported across the desert. Being packed and shipped out. Then just sitting here when finally unpacked. Occasionally the lamp shook violently when someone picked it up, but then it was put back down every time.
How boring life was when you were an immortal djin, or genie as people insisted on calling him. All that power had never brought him happiness. All he ever did was serve others. Bringing them dancing girls, riches, power.
When he thought about it, there was only one time he was not bored. When his master had ordered him to bring him the most ticklish women in the world and tickle them for his pleasure. The women weren’t always beautiful. One had been a regular hag with a face like a broken down old mare. But the master didn’t seem to mind so long as the woman cackled while having her feet tortured with feathers. And Hadji had to admit he didn’t mind so much either. He even drew great pleasure from the one with a hump on her back like a camel as he used his magically created arms to torment her ribs and armpits.
Once again the lamp shook. Then spun as someone slowly examined it. Hadji could tell from the way he was being handled that it was a woman. He could hear her and her friend speaking now, the friend was saying bad things about his lamp.
“I don’t care.” The one holding it snapped. “I like it, I’m going to buy it. It’s only two dollars.”
The friend snorted. Hadji was distracted for the rest of the time. He was always prone to motion sickness.
...................................................................................
Lizzie set the lamp next to the sink then went to retrieve the cleaning supplies. Though everyone said it was a bad thing to clean a possible antique, she felt the lamp probably wasn’t worth much anyway. It would look much better shined up. Picking it up, she began to work on removing the tarnish.
Inside the lamp, Hadji forced himself to wait it out. Now normally a djin was suppose to appear as soon as the lamp was rubbed, but he was a genie with pride, and he wanted his home cleaned up before he popped out. It was difficult though as the movement of the lamp made his stomach churn. Not to mention that he had to keep fighting against the water that came in when she started to rinse it off.
“There,” Lizzie said almost a full hour later as she finished polishing the lamp. It was like something out of Arabian Nights, only with some dents here and there. The lid had been stuck tight due to tarnish and corrosion, but now it only took her a second of pulling for it to pop out.
Out of the lamp came what Lizzie thought was a cloud of dust. She started to cough, then felt a hand slapping her on the back. She jumped back. The cloud was gone, in it’s place was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was well muscled, though not too heavily, his skin a well burnished bronze and his bare chest hairless. Dark hair peeked out of an old fashion bejeweled turban. His eyes glittered like black onyx. He began to speak in a language that Lizzie couldn’t understand.
“Oh, excuse me,” he said suddenly, “I forgot myself for a moment.” He smiled a soft, slightly embarrassed grin. “I am Hadji, the genie of the lamp. I’m here to serve you.”
As the woman stood there in shock, trying to comprehend what was going on, Hadji took a moment to study her. She was, in his opinion, the most lovely mortal he had ever seen - if only because she was different from the dark eyed and haired beauties he was use to. Her hair was a soft red-gold halo. Eyes as green as the sea with hints of blue. She was short with a large bust and wide flaring hips. Her waist was well indented but still thick. She was clad in strange blue pants that showed her well padded thighs that tapered down into nice calves. He wondered what her feet looked like.
Meanwhile Lizzie had come to her senses. There was no such thing as genies! They were the product of stories or played by Barbra Eden! Sometimes even Shaq. This was the 21st century.
“Look, buddy,” she said, crossing her arms over her more then ample chest. “I don’t know how you got into my house but I won’t call the police if you promise to leave right now.”
Hadji sighed. “You mortals, always wanting proof.” With that he waved his hand.
Lizzie found herself suddenly clad in a harem girl’s outfit. The only difference was her feet were bare. The fabric was the same green as her eyes. It felt very odd. For one thing she was suddenly wearing no underwear. Her heavy breasts sagged, free of the constraints of her bra. The silk rubbing against her crotch that only a second ago had been covered with white cotton.
“Okay, I believe you.” Now her arms were crossed to hide her breasts. “Please give me back my clothes.”
Hadji stared down at her feet with undisguised lust. How adorable they were! Short feet, pale pink, with the pudgiest toes he ever saw. Each nail painted a different color. She obviously took great pride in them, yet kept them hidden from the world. Probably because every man in his right mind would want her if he saw them. “I prefer you like this.” He said, his voice suddenly thick and husky.
Lizzie felt herself grow pale. Curling her toes. Why was this - genie - staring at her feet like that? It made her nervous. “If I wished to set you free, would you go away?”
It was against a djin’s nature to go against their master’s or mistress’ wishes. They were suppose to grant their every desire. Yet all Hadji could think of was his own lust. “I do not wish to go.” He finally looked into her eyes. “I can give you anything your heart desires. Wealth, eternal youth and life, knowledge of all subjects, fame, talent. Name it and it’s your’s.”
Lizzie’s heart caught in her throat. For a brief moment all she could think of was that she wished this magical being would take her in his arms and kiss her. Then she thought about it. Her life was so lonely. Men were always saying to her things like “You’re a nice person, Lizzie, but you’re just too fat for me.” Or worse, “You’re too fat to be seen with in public.” At 31 she was still unmarried, unhappy. She hadn’t had sex since she was 24. Perhaps Hadji could change that?
“Could you - could you make me beautiful?”
“You’re already beautiful.” Hadji replied, confused. In his youth she would’ve been the prized wife of the sultan.
“No I’m not.” She said, suddenly moving to the table and picked up magazines. “I’m too fat. Men tell me that all the time. This is what they want.” She handed him pictures of women men lusted after. Tone deaf pop stars, collagen filled actresses. “This is beautiful.”
“Ug!” Hadji said, shaking his head. “This isn’t beauty! They’re too slim. This one,” he held up a model, “has the body of a young boy, this one,” he showed a picture of a pop star with her new baby, “has a lazy eye that keeps wanting to cross - they’re ugly. If men think that this is beauty then they must all be blind and stupid.”
“Well, that’s what’s considered beautiful today. And frankly, I’m tired of being alone all the time. Sharing my bed with a teddy bear instead of a man.” A bitter, childish edge entered her voice. “I’m sick of my orgasms coming from a vibrator!”
“If it’s sexual satisfaction you seek, my mistress, that I can give you.”
Suddenly Lizzie found herself laying down in a sumptuous room. In a plump four poster bed.
And she also found she was tied up, completely nude!
Hadji was there, but much bigger then before. Four arms growing out of either side of his body. Tentacles where there should’ve been legs, each ending in a feathery appendage.
“What is this?” Lizzie demanded. “Release me at once!”
“You wished for sexual satisfaction, my mistress.” Hadji said. “I cannot release you from this wish until it’s been fully granted.
Then, grinning an evil looking grin, Hadji approached her nude, plump form.
Lizzie couldn’t believe it when it started. It was such a shock that when it started - she actually forgot to laugh! For that damn genie was - tickling her! With his eight hands, eighty fingers, he was tickling her armpits, ribs, and breasts. The feathery appendages were attacking her feet, inner thighs, under her knees, and her soft belly. Every nerve ending stimulated beyond belief.
Lizzie had always been very ticklish. What no one knew was that being tickled also turned Lizzie on. To her it was an extremely important part of foreplay. Without it, it was impossible for her to achieve a true orgasm.
Soon both the sheer shock and absurdity of the situation was over whelmed by the sensation of being tickled. Every single nerve ending was on fire with ticklish feelings. Lizzie was laughing before she even realized she was laughing. Her mouth already sore from being open so incredibly wide. It was and utterly delightful torture. Unlike those times with her very few human lovers, there was no concentration on just one area of her body. It was coming from all portions of her body at once, except for those she was laying on, of course. What would normally take her near a half hour of tickling to achieve, was happening in seconds. Her large hips grinding, lust-filled moans coming out with the laughs.
As for Hadji, he was - well, he couldn’t really call it happy, for things like happiness, love, joy, even sorrow, those were things djins could not feel for they had no hearts and therefore no souls. Lust, boredom, hatred, anger, those were the sorts of things they could feel. He knew he was not bored. He was defiantly filled with lust.
Lungs burning from lack of air, stomach hurting, Lizzie kept laughing. She could no longer think of anything but the tickling. The tickling and how bad she wanted Hadji. Thrusting her hips at him lewdly as the tickling turned her from a shy, overweight woman to a lust crazed animal. She loved it. Eighty fingers that twirled, twisted, and danced on her torso, starting in her armpits, over her breasts, playing her ribs. Feathery touches in and around her belly button, brushing her hips, inside her thighs, under her knees.
But the best was on her feet. Sending shockwaves of pleasure through her even as her soft, plump soles were plundered with touched from the feather tentacles, the tender flesh between her toes ravished.
Hadji now released his tongue. Magically making it grow longer, more flexible. It slid up her now slick thighs, tickling her even more. Then delved into her soft folds. Giving light touches inside her, enough to tickle, to torment. Growing stronger as his own desire for her grew. Then he couldn’t take it any longer and neither could she. Though he still tickled, they rocked together until both were sated.
While she slept he summoned things from her world, studying. When she woke he fed her with delectable fruits and chocolates, urging her to replenish her fluids with water and wine.
“Tell me, mistress, do you still wish to look like this - things.” He distastefully handled a tabloid. “They are so thin. In the time I was created women like this were only taken by men who preferred the embraces of men, but were too ashamed of themselves to admit it. Men wanted women who could give birth to strong sons. These women would never survive such.”
“Times change.” Lizzie said with a sigh. “The truth it, it’s not so much I want to look like them - it’s - damn it, Hadji, I’m so LONELY. I hear all the time how I’m a great friend, a wonderful person, but I’m simply too fat to be considered more then. Men want women like them. They talk about it, write stories. Once - once I got so angry after seeing yet another erotic tale involving two tone deaf pop stars that I wrote one myself - where a very geeky guy managed to kidnap one, only to find out she wasn’t ticklish, her breasts were fake, and her gentiles rotting away from all the STDs she got from the record producers she slept with to get her recording contract in the first place. The women on the site loved it - the men complained and I got banned.”
Hadji chuckled. “Well, while I cannot control the minds of people, I could change the standard of beauty by revealing these women as they really are.”
“I doubt that would work. Despite the fact that this one,” she pointed to a famous pop star, “revealed more then once how trashy she is, men still want her. And this one,” she pointed now to a large lipped actress, “is reported to seduce all her male co-stars and make them leave their wives and girlfriends, yet despite her whorish ways everyone still wants her.”
“It’s like Egypt all over again.” Hadji said. “They were never much for virginity. In fact, it was almost preferred a woman had a child out of wedlock to prove herself fertile. Before marriage, they were allowed as many lovers as they wanted. You know, if she had a hooked nose and a wart on her chin right there, she’d look just like Cleopatra. She was a very ugly woman you know.”
“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen coins with her actual image, I don’t remember a wart though.”
“Hm - well, trust me, she was quite hideous. Besides the over-sized nose that could’ve doubled as a fish hook for whales and the wart, she wore so much makeup and so rarely washed it off that her skin underneath was as grey as the flesh of one of your movie zombies.”
Lizzie laughed. A different sort of laughter then her tickling-induces hysterical laughter. She had always had an odd sense of humor. Finding strange things funny. Sometimes in the movie section of the library, she would move the videos around so Ghost was right between Ghostbusters one and Ghostbusters two. She was the only person in the movie theatre to get the jokes in Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride. “So,” she said, “I take it I only have two wishes left.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Hadji said. “I am your slave until the lamp is lost, given away, stolen, or destroyed - or you die. Whichever comes first. You can have as many wishes as you want. Within reason of course. I cannot raise the dead, control minds, or time travel. But I can cure, grant immortality and eternal youth, give you riches, anything else you’d like.”
“Well, I suppose that’s nice.” Lizzie said, thinking about it. “It would be nice to have money and not live from paycheck to paycheck.” Smiling, she continued, “And it was nice to be touched, tickled for once. It’s been so long.” Even now her feet were being stroked lightly. Enough to make her smile and squirm, to send warm, erotic thoughts to her mind.
Hadji kept up for awhile. Sometimes doing it enough for Lizzie to laugh. Other times just such light teases she simply was lost in lustful feelings.
“You know what I really wish, Hadji?” Lizzie said, “I wish I could find someone who loved me just the way I am. Who would tickle me to insanity and orgasm, but also give me massages without an ulterior motive. Someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to hold my hand in public and even kiss me in front of others. Someone who’d believe in me.”
A painful thing happened in Hadji’s chest. He gasped for a moment. Then as he sat there, Lizzie looking up at him with concern, he realized that Lizzie’s wish had just caused him to gain a heart.
For the first time Hadji felt something other then lust or boredom. For the first time he felt - love.
Almost in a panic, he tested his powers. Turning himself into a giant, snake-like feather. Knowing he still had his powers made him feel much better. Now he crawled over Lizzie’s ticklish skin, feeling her squirm and buck, trying to roll away. Though in this form he could not hear nor see her laughing, he could feel her do so.
Lizzie rolled around in hysterics. Oh this tickled so bad it was good! Random spots would be hit all over her body. When she rolled over her excessively ticklish butt was tormented. Then her sides. Nothing was safe. Not her vulva. Not her breasts. Ribs, pits, neck, arms. And especially her poor feet. Everything was tormented again. Her nipples growing hard. As Hadji tickled her she reached down between her legs to pleasure herself. Her nerve endings sang with ticklish delight. Laughter reaching to the ceiling of this magically made room.
And as Hadji tickled Lizzie long into the night, he knew he would never feel boredom again. It would take time to convince her that a magical being could love a mortal woman, but he’d do it. Even if it took days, months, years of tickling. He would do it.
Then all he’d have to do was cure his motion sickness.
~The End~
How boring life was when you were an immortal djin, or genie as people insisted on calling him. All that power had never brought him happiness. All he ever did was serve others. Bringing them dancing girls, riches, power.
When he thought about it, there was only one time he was not bored. When his master had ordered him to bring him the most ticklish women in the world and tickle them for his pleasure. The women weren’t always beautiful. One had been a regular hag with a face like a broken down old mare. But the master didn’t seem to mind so long as the woman cackled while having her feet tortured with feathers. And Hadji had to admit he didn’t mind so much either. He even drew great pleasure from the one with a hump on her back like a camel as he used his magically created arms to torment her ribs and armpits.
Once again the lamp shook. Then spun as someone slowly examined it. Hadji could tell from the way he was being handled that it was a woman. He could hear her and her friend speaking now, the friend was saying bad things about his lamp.
“I don’t care.” The one holding it snapped. “I like it, I’m going to buy it. It’s only two dollars.”
The friend snorted. Hadji was distracted for the rest of the time. He was always prone to motion sickness.
...................................................................................
Lizzie set the lamp next to the sink then went to retrieve the cleaning supplies. Though everyone said it was a bad thing to clean a possible antique, she felt the lamp probably wasn’t worth much anyway. It would look much better shined up. Picking it up, she began to work on removing the tarnish.
Inside the lamp, Hadji forced himself to wait it out. Now normally a djin was suppose to appear as soon as the lamp was rubbed, but he was a genie with pride, and he wanted his home cleaned up before he popped out. It was difficult though as the movement of the lamp made his stomach churn. Not to mention that he had to keep fighting against the water that came in when she started to rinse it off.
“There,” Lizzie said almost a full hour later as she finished polishing the lamp. It was like something out of Arabian Nights, only with some dents here and there. The lid had been stuck tight due to tarnish and corrosion, but now it only took her a second of pulling for it to pop out.
Out of the lamp came what Lizzie thought was a cloud of dust. She started to cough, then felt a hand slapping her on the back. She jumped back. The cloud was gone, in it’s place was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was well muscled, though not too heavily, his skin a well burnished bronze and his bare chest hairless. Dark hair peeked out of an old fashion bejeweled turban. His eyes glittered like black onyx. He began to speak in a language that Lizzie couldn’t understand.
“Oh, excuse me,” he said suddenly, “I forgot myself for a moment.” He smiled a soft, slightly embarrassed grin. “I am Hadji, the genie of the lamp. I’m here to serve you.”
As the woman stood there in shock, trying to comprehend what was going on, Hadji took a moment to study her. She was, in his opinion, the most lovely mortal he had ever seen - if only because she was different from the dark eyed and haired beauties he was use to. Her hair was a soft red-gold halo. Eyes as green as the sea with hints of blue. She was short with a large bust and wide flaring hips. Her waist was well indented but still thick. She was clad in strange blue pants that showed her well padded thighs that tapered down into nice calves. He wondered what her feet looked like.
Meanwhile Lizzie had come to her senses. There was no such thing as genies! They were the product of stories or played by Barbra Eden! Sometimes even Shaq. This was the 21st century.
“Look, buddy,” she said, crossing her arms over her more then ample chest. “I don’t know how you got into my house but I won’t call the police if you promise to leave right now.”
Hadji sighed. “You mortals, always wanting proof.” With that he waved his hand.
Lizzie found herself suddenly clad in a harem girl’s outfit. The only difference was her feet were bare. The fabric was the same green as her eyes. It felt very odd. For one thing she was suddenly wearing no underwear. Her heavy breasts sagged, free of the constraints of her bra. The silk rubbing against her crotch that only a second ago had been covered with white cotton.
“Okay, I believe you.” Now her arms were crossed to hide her breasts. “Please give me back my clothes.”
Hadji stared down at her feet with undisguised lust. How adorable they were! Short feet, pale pink, with the pudgiest toes he ever saw. Each nail painted a different color. She obviously took great pride in them, yet kept them hidden from the world. Probably because every man in his right mind would want her if he saw them. “I prefer you like this.” He said, his voice suddenly thick and husky.
Lizzie felt herself grow pale. Curling her toes. Why was this - genie - staring at her feet like that? It made her nervous. “If I wished to set you free, would you go away?”
It was against a djin’s nature to go against their master’s or mistress’ wishes. They were suppose to grant their every desire. Yet all Hadji could think of was his own lust. “I do not wish to go.” He finally looked into her eyes. “I can give you anything your heart desires. Wealth, eternal youth and life, knowledge of all subjects, fame, talent. Name it and it’s your’s.”
Lizzie’s heart caught in her throat. For a brief moment all she could think of was that she wished this magical being would take her in his arms and kiss her. Then she thought about it. Her life was so lonely. Men were always saying to her things like “You’re a nice person, Lizzie, but you’re just too fat for me.” Or worse, “You’re too fat to be seen with in public.” At 31 she was still unmarried, unhappy. She hadn’t had sex since she was 24. Perhaps Hadji could change that?
“Could you - could you make me beautiful?”
“You’re already beautiful.” Hadji replied, confused. In his youth she would’ve been the prized wife of the sultan.
“No I’m not.” She said, suddenly moving to the table and picked up magazines. “I’m too fat. Men tell me that all the time. This is what they want.” She handed him pictures of women men lusted after. Tone deaf pop stars, collagen filled actresses. “This is beautiful.”
“Ug!” Hadji said, shaking his head. “This isn’t beauty! They’re too slim. This one,” he held up a model, “has the body of a young boy, this one,” he showed a picture of a pop star with her new baby, “has a lazy eye that keeps wanting to cross - they’re ugly. If men think that this is beauty then they must all be blind and stupid.”
“Well, that’s what’s considered beautiful today. And frankly, I’m tired of being alone all the time. Sharing my bed with a teddy bear instead of a man.” A bitter, childish edge entered her voice. “I’m sick of my orgasms coming from a vibrator!”
“If it’s sexual satisfaction you seek, my mistress, that I can give you.”
Suddenly Lizzie found herself laying down in a sumptuous room. In a plump four poster bed.
And she also found she was tied up, completely nude!
Hadji was there, but much bigger then before. Four arms growing out of either side of his body. Tentacles where there should’ve been legs, each ending in a feathery appendage.
“What is this?” Lizzie demanded. “Release me at once!”
“You wished for sexual satisfaction, my mistress.” Hadji said. “I cannot release you from this wish until it’s been fully granted.
Then, grinning an evil looking grin, Hadji approached her nude, plump form.
Lizzie couldn’t believe it when it started. It was such a shock that when it started - she actually forgot to laugh! For that damn genie was - tickling her! With his eight hands, eighty fingers, he was tickling her armpits, ribs, and breasts. The feathery appendages were attacking her feet, inner thighs, under her knees, and her soft belly. Every nerve ending stimulated beyond belief.
Lizzie had always been very ticklish. What no one knew was that being tickled also turned Lizzie on. To her it was an extremely important part of foreplay. Without it, it was impossible for her to achieve a true orgasm.
Soon both the sheer shock and absurdity of the situation was over whelmed by the sensation of being tickled. Every single nerve ending was on fire with ticklish feelings. Lizzie was laughing before she even realized she was laughing. Her mouth already sore from being open so incredibly wide. It was and utterly delightful torture. Unlike those times with her very few human lovers, there was no concentration on just one area of her body. It was coming from all portions of her body at once, except for those she was laying on, of course. What would normally take her near a half hour of tickling to achieve, was happening in seconds. Her large hips grinding, lust-filled moans coming out with the laughs.
As for Hadji, he was - well, he couldn’t really call it happy, for things like happiness, love, joy, even sorrow, those were things djins could not feel for they had no hearts and therefore no souls. Lust, boredom, hatred, anger, those were the sorts of things they could feel. He knew he was not bored. He was defiantly filled with lust.
Lungs burning from lack of air, stomach hurting, Lizzie kept laughing. She could no longer think of anything but the tickling. The tickling and how bad she wanted Hadji. Thrusting her hips at him lewdly as the tickling turned her from a shy, overweight woman to a lust crazed animal. She loved it. Eighty fingers that twirled, twisted, and danced on her torso, starting in her armpits, over her breasts, playing her ribs. Feathery touches in and around her belly button, brushing her hips, inside her thighs, under her knees.
But the best was on her feet. Sending shockwaves of pleasure through her even as her soft, plump soles were plundered with touched from the feather tentacles, the tender flesh between her toes ravished.
Hadji now released his tongue. Magically making it grow longer, more flexible. It slid up her now slick thighs, tickling her even more. Then delved into her soft folds. Giving light touches inside her, enough to tickle, to torment. Growing stronger as his own desire for her grew. Then he couldn’t take it any longer and neither could she. Though he still tickled, they rocked together until both were sated.
While she slept he summoned things from her world, studying. When she woke he fed her with delectable fruits and chocolates, urging her to replenish her fluids with water and wine.
“Tell me, mistress, do you still wish to look like this - things.” He distastefully handled a tabloid. “They are so thin. In the time I was created women like this were only taken by men who preferred the embraces of men, but were too ashamed of themselves to admit it. Men wanted women who could give birth to strong sons. These women would never survive such.”
“Times change.” Lizzie said with a sigh. “The truth it, it’s not so much I want to look like them - it’s - damn it, Hadji, I’m so LONELY. I hear all the time how I’m a great friend, a wonderful person, but I’m simply too fat to be considered more then. Men want women like them. They talk about it, write stories. Once - once I got so angry after seeing yet another erotic tale involving two tone deaf pop stars that I wrote one myself - where a very geeky guy managed to kidnap one, only to find out she wasn’t ticklish, her breasts were fake, and her gentiles rotting away from all the STDs she got from the record producers she slept with to get her recording contract in the first place. The women on the site loved it - the men complained and I got banned.”
Hadji chuckled. “Well, while I cannot control the minds of people, I could change the standard of beauty by revealing these women as they really are.”
“I doubt that would work. Despite the fact that this one,” she pointed to a famous pop star, “revealed more then once how trashy she is, men still want her. And this one,” she pointed now to a large lipped actress, “is reported to seduce all her male co-stars and make them leave their wives and girlfriends, yet despite her whorish ways everyone still wants her.”
“It’s like Egypt all over again.” Hadji said. “They were never much for virginity. In fact, it was almost preferred a woman had a child out of wedlock to prove herself fertile. Before marriage, they were allowed as many lovers as they wanted. You know, if she had a hooked nose and a wart on her chin right there, she’d look just like Cleopatra. She was a very ugly woman you know.”
“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen coins with her actual image, I don’t remember a wart though.”
“Hm - well, trust me, she was quite hideous. Besides the over-sized nose that could’ve doubled as a fish hook for whales and the wart, she wore so much makeup and so rarely washed it off that her skin underneath was as grey as the flesh of one of your movie zombies.”
Lizzie laughed. A different sort of laughter then her tickling-induces hysterical laughter. She had always had an odd sense of humor. Finding strange things funny. Sometimes in the movie section of the library, she would move the videos around so Ghost was right between Ghostbusters one and Ghostbusters two. She was the only person in the movie theatre to get the jokes in Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride. “So,” she said, “I take it I only have two wishes left.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Hadji said. “I am your slave until the lamp is lost, given away, stolen, or destroyed - or you die. Whichever comes first. You can have as many wishes as you want. Within reason of course. I cannot raise the dead, control minds, or time travel. But I can cure, grant immortality and eternal youth, give you riches, anything else you’d like.”
“Well, I suppose that’s nice.” Lizzie said, thinking about it. “It would be nice to have money and not live from paycheck to paycheck.” Smiling, she continued, “And it was nice to be touched, tickled for once. It’s been so long.” Even now her feet were being stroked lightly. Enough to make her smile and squirm, to send warm, erotic thoughts to her mind.
Hadji kept up for awhile. Sometimes doing it enough for Lizzie to laugh. Other times just such light teases she simply was lost in lustful feelings.
“You know what I really wish, Hadji?” Lizzie said, “I wish I could find someone who loved me just the way I am. Who would tickle me to insanity and orgasm, but also give me massages without an ulterior motive. Someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to hold my hand in public and even kiss me in front of others. Someone who’d believe in me.”
A painful thing happened in Hadji’s chest. He gasped for a moment. Then as he sat there, Lizzie looking up at him with concern, he realized that Lizzie’s wish had just caused him to gain a heart.
For the first time Hadji felt something other then lust or boredom. For the first time he felt - love.
Almost in a panic, he tested his powers. Turning himself into a giant, snake-like feather. Knowing he still had his powers made him feel much better. Now he crawled over Lizzie’s ticklish skin, feeling her squirm and buck, trying to roll away. Though in this form he could not hear nor see her laughing, he could feel her do so.
Lizzie rolled around in hysterics. Oh this tickled so bad it was good! Random spots would be hit all over her body. When she rolled over her excessively ticklish butt was tormented. Then her sides. Nothing was safe. Not her vulva. Not her breasts. Ribs, pits, neck, arms. And especially her poor feet. Everything was tormented again. Her nipples growing hard. As Hadji tickled her she reached down between her legs to pleasure herself. Her nerve endings sang with ticklish delight. Laughter reaching to the ceiling of this magically made room.
And as Hadji tickled Lizzie long into the night, he knew he would never feel boredom again. It would take time to convince her that a magical being could love a mortal woman, but he’d do it. Even if it took days, months, years of tickling. He would do it.
Then all he’d have to do was cure his motion sickness.
~The End~
The 'lee in my recent story The Countess and the Cossack is a little like your 'lee heroine, and the one in my next story, "The Grand Inquisitor" will be even more so. 
