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I Dean of Genie	By : rae_roberts Category: Supernatural > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Supernatural, nor do I own any rights to either Disney's Aladdin or I Dream of Genie, which I have heavily ripped off for this fic. No money is being made from this silly little fic.

Chapter List
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“So I’ve been, you know, thinking about my next wish.   I look like a rich bitch,” Liz Anne gestured to the body she’d chosen. “I’m like, so out of Brandon’s league now.”
Dean stayed silent, more revolted by the former shapeshifter with each encounter.
"I might wish for an Ivy League education,” she went on. “What's to stop me from, you know, going legit? You got the power to get me a PhD?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Dean gritted through clenched teeth.
“Well, you’re the genie. Would that be a good wish?”
“That’s not for me to decide. You’re the Master.”
Liz Anne huffed out a breath. “You’re not very good company. Come over here,” she ordered, patting the space beside her on the bed.
Dean couldn’t disobey. He walked over and sat down next to her stiffly, his muscles tense.
“Oh my god, you need to chill the fuck out. Come on, genie... Deanie." She reached up to massage his shoulders. When he stayed tense she slid closer, wrapping her arms around him, grinning at his discomfort. "Kiss me."
Dean wanted to turn his face away, but the conflicting desire to do his Master’s bidding was stronger. He puckered up and gave her a brief, reluctant kiss.
Liz Anne chuckled. Instead of being offended by his lack of enthusiasm she seemed to take it as an enjoyable challenge. She reached up to run a hand through his hair, playfully mussing it. “Loosen up a little, Deanie-Genie. You’re cute, and we both know I’m hot as hell. Why not, you know, have some fun between wishes? Beats being stuck in that old bottle, doesn’t it?”
All Dean could think of was how that hot body she was so pleased with had belonged to another woman first, one whose life she’d stolen away.   “Honestly? I’d rather spend a thousand years in that bottle than fool around with a murderous skank like you.”
“Yeah? But you don’t get a say in it, do you?” Liz Anne smirked. “Genie, I wish for you to fuck me...Like you’re crazy about me. Like you can’t get enough of me!”
No, Dean thought, disbelieving, there was no way that that could count as one of her wishes. Sure, Liz Anne was physically attractive, but the whole murderous skank bit canceled that out. He literally couldn’t--
But he was already blinking his eyes to grant the wish, her desire overriding his free will. His stomach gave a lurch, a disorienting mix of nausea and raw, primal lust. The now-familiar spike of pleasure he felt when granting a wish was twisted this time, unwanted arousal flooding his veins. It felt like a betrayal, his own body rebelling against his will. Dean reached for Liz Anne, hands roaming hungrily over her body as his mouth eagerly claimed hers.
He could sense her malicious delight in his predicament. She knew he was disgusted by her, but he was completely unable to disobey, and Liz Anne was loving it. Dean pulled away, but only because he knew she wanted to see him undressed. She licked her lips as he stood at the end of the bed and stripped off his clothes, moving quickly so he could display his naked body and erect cock for her pleasure. It was humiliating, but another jolt of arousal hit him as he sensed his Master’s enjoyment.
Dean moved up onto the bed, leaning over Liz Anne and kissing her deeply as he undressed her. He crouched over her body and pulled off her panties, sliding them down her legs, then licking and kissing his way back up to the apex of her thighs.

“You love it,” she gloated. “Fuck me! Tell me how bad you want to fuck me!”
No, Dean thought, frantically denying it. The word was a soundless scream trapped inside his mind. As if he was caught in a fever dream, unable to wake up, his body responded to his Master’s desire with wild passion. He could feel the thrill it gave her when he debased himself, and an answering thrill ran through him, leaving him panting with desire, his cock so hard for her it ached.
“God, yes,” Dean groaned. “Please… Want you so bad… Please, Master,” he begged, unable to stop himself.   He positioned himself between her legs and rammed his cock into her, fucking her with mindless abandon. His self-will was banished to a back corner of his mind, locked away from control of his own body. He fought as hard as he could, but it took all his strength just to manage to close his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at her. Liz Anne’s face was contorted as she slammed her hips up to meet his every thrust, but Dean could sense her smug satisfaction. Even with his eyes clenched shut he could picture her smirking up at him.
His body was slick with sweat, on fire with lust, caught on the brink of a climax that never came. Liz Anne had wished for a lover who was wild for her, who couldn’t get enough of her, and that was the fantasy Dean was compelled to deliver. They rolled across the bed, Liz Anne on top, then beneath him again, changing positions according to her whim. Jolt after jolt of pleasure shook him as he fulfilled her wish, bringing her to orgasm after orgasm. All the while, Dean raged against it, but he was trapped, closed off inside his own mind, sick with shame and fury.
He was kneeling behind Liz Anne, thrusting into her doggy style, when Sam kicked down the door. Her moan of passion rose in pitch, turning into a scream of terror. “Oh my god, no! Don’t let him hurt me!”
“Dean? Dean!” Sam’s confusion lasted less than a second.   He raised his pistol, aiming for Liz Anne’s head.
He couldn’t shoot, Dean realized, for fear of hitting him.   His body was shielding her from Sam. Hell, he was still inside her. His stomach churned and he yelled, “Goddamnit, Sammy, take the shot!”
Liz Anne realized her mistake. “I wish he can’t hurt me!”
A blink, and Sam’s gun flew from his hand. Dean felt an immediate sense of relief as he granted Liz Anne’s third wish and the connection to her was broken. He pushed her away, his body was already starting to transform into smoke.
“Sam! She’s human. She wished herself human--” he rushed out.
“Dean!” Sam’s head swiveled as he scanned the room, searching for the genie bottle. The tail of purple smoke trailing from Dean’s lower body started to stream toward his prison and Sam leapt to follow it. Dean rematerialized as his brother’s fingers closed around the neck of the bottle.
A blink, and a pair of handcuffs dangled from Sam’s other hand. Now it was Dean’s turn to smirk at Liz Anne as she scrambled backward off the bed. It only took three of Sam’s long strides to catch her. He pressed her back down onto the mattress, easily capturing her wrists in one big hand and cuffing her with exaggerated care.
“Asshole!” she spat at Dean.

“What?” He widened his eyes at her, all innocence. “I didn’t let him hurt you.”
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I Dean of Genie