Because of my pending travels I can’t say that my usual limit of one week between story Parts will be upheld for the immediate future, but I will try! ~dS

An Origin Story

by Dan Standing

1 – Discovery

Pita Delworth had never aspired to anything. There were two reasons for this; she wasn’t very smart, and she wasn’t very attractive. She had grown up constantly jealous of the girls who Nature or Nurture had gifted one way or the other, and long gave up on achieving either through hard work. During her pimply teen years the pretty girls mocked her and called her “Pizza Girl,” and the smart ones giggled because she wasn’t witty enough to even come up with a retort.

Like everyone she needed money, and as soon as she was old enough to drive – and eventually be given – her parents’ old car, Pita got a job. The fact that she was a pizza delivery girl didn’t help her reputation any; age had not added to her intelligence or looks. The required, dowdy, and unflattering outfit – which consisted of a collared shirt, a puffy jacket, baggy slacks, and a reverse-worn baseball cap – in no way flattered her body. Pita was not overweight, but she also had no desirable curves. Her breasts were apple-sized if held properly, but dropped down the same line of her body as her stomach. Her hair was frazzled almost constantly, and her skin still held some scars from her acne.

Whether it was the size of her classmate’s IQs or bras she was always envious, and her obsession kept her from doing much more than spending time forlorn and alone in her room, reading graphic novels, surfing the web, or both.

After high school she, along with everyone going to college, moved out of their parents’ homes. Except she didn’t move out to pursue education; she rented a small one-room apartment with the money she’d saved from pizza delivery to escape her parents’ disappointment in her not applying to any schools.

Other than the new venue, not much changed for Pita – even the mockery. Most of her fellow pizza house coworkers had moved on to college, and the new young group of workers were no less willing to pick at her faults. She wasn’t in school anymore, but most of the pizza house workers had been in the grades below her and were familiar with the taunts of the classes before them.

The first day things started to change was when Pita was given an address for delivery she didn’t recognize. The house number was strange; 1245.5. There were no multi-family homes in her little hamlet of a suburb, so how could a property be .5? Pita’s GPS certainly didn’t recognize it, so she plugged in 1245 sans the decimal and extra digit, which was accepted without issue, and went on her way.

As she pulled the car up to the curb Pita was puzzled. There, before her, was indeed 1245.5. Her brain knew it couldn’t be there; it seemed too big to fit between the 1245 and 1247 lots. But somehow there it was, as if it was bending matter around it. She tried to figure it out, but the more she thought on it the further away the concern slipped. She attributed this to her unexceptional intelligence, but in truth the issue was not her mind.

Walking up to the house and entering the porch Pita grabbed the screen door with one hand while simultaneously ringing the doorknob with the other while balancing the pizza on her arm. Her fingers tapped in succession on the metal exterior door while she waited. After a moment an incredibly sexy and voluptuous woman opened the interior wooden door. Her luxurious blond hair was done up in a ponytail, and she wore gossamer lingerie that in no way obscured her incredible dimensions. Her breasts – grapefruits which nearly conked Pita in the head – swung over a tiny midsection that opened up to a pair of wide hips which poured into never-ending legs. An incredibly round ass disappeared back into the house. Large brown nipples waved atop their mountains, and although they had already appeared hard the brisk outside air brought them to full attention. Although the fabric of the nightgown extended past the woman’s groin, it was practically invisible and her shorn womanhood was on full display.

“Holy crap, why are you dressed like that?” the startled Pita exclaimed. The woman’s face suddenly drained of animation.

“It is a requirement of my freedom,” the woman replied emptily, as if on automatic pilot. Then expression and personality returned to her face as she looked to the side, “Oh, damn, let go of the storm door.”

“What? Why?”

The woman’s face again became robotic.

“As long as you are in direct contact with part of this house I am required to answer your questions truthfully, mistress.”

“Mistress? Freedom? Are you role-playing as some sort of genie?” Pita asked, trying to look past the woman for an equally half-naked man somewhere within.

“No, I AM a genie,” the woman replied, “I was Synthia of the Gold Bow when the man who lives next door found me. For his third wish he granted two of our fantasies in one; my bow was transformed into this house, allowing me some freedom. But now I am the erotic and horny girl-next-door that my former master always fantasized about.”

“My God, that’s horrible!” Pita exclaimed, adjusting her hand on the door but not removing it. Synthia seemed to shudder a tad.

“It’s not so bad,” the genie replied, her actual personality pushing through again since Pita had not asked a question, “He is not immortal. Eventually he’ll die and I will be rid of him. I’ve been a genie for nearly 300 years. It’s given me scope. And patience.”

“So…since I’ve touched your house…do I get three wishes?” Pita grinned.

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“You get one wish. I’m a partially free genie, so I am only bound to grant you one wish per day, and only when you touch my house, and it must effect you alone. Ultimately, you would only be granted three wishes, but after you leave here you will be unable to relocate the house unless I send for pizza again and you happen to be the one who delivers. But I will not be repeating this mistake.”

“What if I wish that over the next two weeks you would order pizza twice more when I would be guaranteed to deliver it?”

Synthia shuddered, her eyes closing and her body flushing as if experiencing a climax.

“It is done.”

“Really? That was my wish?” Pita exclaimed, “I wasted it!”

“It was your wish,” emotionless Synthia replied, whose personality immediately erupted to the surface with, “And you’ve had your wish for the day, so would you please let go of the door now? This is incredibly humiliating.”

“Sorry,” Pita replied, letting go and letting the door rest on her jacket-padded shoulder. Synthia’s body seemed to relax a bit. “So, are you stuck in the house or do you have greater freedom than that?”

“If you don’t mind, I have the refreshing option of not answering that and I’d like to exorcize it,” Synthia sighed. She was counting money which Pita could not remember her retrieving from anywhere. “How’s this, with tip?”

“That’s all I get?”

“You’re getting two more wishes.”

“Fine.”

Pita took the money and handed over the pizza.

“I’ll see you next time.”

“Yeah, great. Thanks.”

The delivery girl turned and walked off the porch. She was halfway to her car before a thought struck her and she turned around.

“Oh, when do you think you’ll-”

The house was gone. A shimmer did seem to exist between the 1245 and 1247 houses, but Pita couldn’t recall why that was significant. She fully remembered her conversation with Synthia, her wish, and that she’d deliver to the house twice again, but the location of the house and the significance of the odd sparkle before her would not associate with any of that information in her head.

Not thinking of anything else to do Pita got back in her car and returned to the pizza house for her next delivery, wondering when next she’d be called to the genie’s home. A slip of paper with an address sat on the passenger’s seat, but she had no use for old addresses and crumpled it up onto the floor.

To be continued…