Spider-Man stared for a long moment, the eye-covers of his mask dilating open and appearing to 'widen his eyes.' When he was first starting out, Peter Parker was new not only to his powers but to his senses -- especially his Spider Sense. As a result, he'd felt like he was being bombarded with stimuli and information at all times, so he'd developed a mask that would easily 'shutter' over his eyes, cutting down on the barrage. Over the years he'd grown and learned a lot about using his abilities, so the mask's 'opening and closing' eyes had slowly reflected his expressions instead.
"...okay. Let me get this straight," he said, finally.
"Of course," the woman in front of him said, bouncing slightly. Literally -- her bra was clearly more for decoration than support, her breasts jiggling with each movement. "I'd hate for you to be confused."
"...right. You're a genie."
"Yes!" She giggled. "Is that it? Are we done?"
"Not even close. You're a genie... and you're... connected to me?"
"You're my master, yes!" She seemed even more amused.
Spider-Man put his hand over his eyes. "Okay. Let's not go that far, okay? I... summoned you... and now you're here to grant me three wishes."
The girl laughed full out -- it was a musical laugh, and each 'ha' slid down the back of Spider-Man's spine like a caress. She smelled good, too. Earthy, with a hint of spice. It reminded him of Felicia Hardy after a long night across the rooftops, or Mary Jane in the morning after cinnamon cocoa and fellatio--
Spider-Man paused, then took his hand off his eyes, staring at the beauty, her terra cotta skin warm with an almost golden undertone, but as for the rest of her--
--but she was answering his last question. "You summoned me, yes. But I'm not here to grant three wishes. Well, not just three wishes. I'm your Djinn for life, unbound from the lamp until you should pass beyond the pale. And not just any wishes -- only your most--"
"You're reading my mind," Spider-Man snapped.
The genie -- or djinn -- blinked. "Excuse me, Master?"
"You're reading my mind. Adapting to my 'wishes.' Looking at you... you're like a composite... you have MJ's eyes, Felicia's smile, Gwen's sidelong glance. Your breasts are all MJ, your butt's.... Jeez I think that's Jessica Drew's...."
"Oh! Yes!" She smiled a bit more. "As a spirit bound unto the lamp, I have no proper form. I haven't for a very long time. When a new master releases me, I am formed by his impressions and beliefs and dreams. So when you see me, you see the things you most want in a woman -- a lover... a friend... a sexual partner... all wrapped up into one." She ran her finger along the brass shell belt over her silken pants. "And you clothed me in whatever you think a genie of sex would wear. Honestly, I'm just glad I'm not blue, topless, and making pop culture references in Robin Williams's voice."
"...yeah... though hey... blue could be a good look for you--"
The genie moaned, eyes half-closing as she wriggled, a ripple of light playing over her skin and leaving her a light blue, her polychromatic hair tossing back over her shoulder.
"--hey! That wasn't a wish!"
"It was a suggestion," she said. "Those are kind of an edge case. Though if you'd rather I look like someone else, or something else? Well, I'm here for you."
Spider-Man took a long breath. "And we're in my apartment, which suggests you know my secret identity."
"Peter Parker. Son of Richard and Mary Parker, ward of your Uncle Ben and Aunt May Reilly Parker. Bit by a spider, given great power, learned the price of responsibility and been overpaying it back ever since. Yeah, Bobcat -- I've been briefed."
"Bobcat?"
"Well, I can't call you Tiger. That would just make you mad since I'm not 'MJ.'" She paused. "Though I can be."
Spider-Man pulled his mask off, staring at the blue girl in his apartment. "No, you can't. You can look like her--"
"Oh, I can do better than that." She rippled again, becoming Mary Jane Watson in body, in posture, in hair and attitude, her outfit becoming a black bikini even as she slid her arms behind herself. "Look at me, Tiger. I mean, really look. Look with all the senses you have that no one else does. Do you know anyone better than Mary Jane? And is there anything about me that rings wrong?"
Spider-Man stared at the voluptuous redhead -- so perfectly a match for the woman Peter had been closest to of everyone in his life...
Peter turned away. "More than you could possibly know rings wrong. Change back right now, and don't turn into -- don't turn into anyone like that unless I tell you to."
The djinn giggled. "All right," she said, her voice back to the husky voice she had before. "But it might make it hard to explain the blue girl in veils in your apartment if I can't disguise myself--"
"Fine. You... come up with a 'civilian look.' Something that isn't one of the girls I..."
"Granted!"
Peter turned, then froze.
Her hair was lush, brown with golden tips. Her skin was a deep brown. Her body was if anything lusher now, her skin a much darker brown. She wore a light yellow tutu-style dress, stockings and heels, with matching gloves. Her eyes were almond-shaped and looked Asian -- the combination looked like a biracial Harujuku girl. She didn't look at all like anyone he knew.
And she hit his hormones like a sledgehammer.
She laughed again. "Look, I'm literally incapable of becoming something unattractive to you. Only sexual wishes, remember? Still, you should see the look on your face."
"Okay," he said, again. "Okay, I believe you. What did you say your name was, again?"
"Ova. Well, Ovyah, if you go back far enough. I was a princess, until I was trapped in a loveless marriage. I made my husband angry, and he cursed me into the lamp, consuming my humanity into pure sexual power. For decades I thrilled him, then when he died my lamp vanished through the universes until it was found by another man, and then another. And a woman or two. Honestly, it's been thousands of years so--"
"How do I free you?"
Ova blinked. "You don't."
"I don't accept that. You're a sentient being -- not an inborn slave."
"I'm a nigh-omnipotent spirit of sexuality and have been for longer than your human race has had written language, Peter. And I enjoy my life -- way more than the miserable girl who was sold to a political rival for a momentary advantage ever did. And you can't 'free' me without destroying me down to the very soul -- no afterlife, no second chances. Worse than murder. And it would be all your fault if you managed it." She cocked her head. "What was that about responsibility, again?"
Peter kept staring. "You're... using emotional blackmail against me?"
"Hey, deep down you must get off on it, if it's part of my arsenal." She smirked. "So, instead of focusing on how you have to save me from existing, why don't we focus on what I actually am and what I can be for you."
"You mean a sex genie?"
"Exactly." She giggled. "But expand your mind, Peter. You're good at seeing past horizons, right? I can grant any sexual wish... which means I can grant any wish you can express sexually."
"...like... like what?"
"Like what?" She rolled her eyes. "Remember when Mary Jane broke her arm? You could wish for the power to heal any of her injuries completely by having sex with her. Or wish to fuck a power upgrade into Silk with every thrust, making her stronger and hardier. Or send me to fuck Flash Thompson and give him his legs back." She smiled, almost wickedly. "Or should I play dirtier pool?"
Peter was staring again. He felt a tightness -- then adjusted, his suit constricting the raging erection he couldn't control. "What kind of dirty pool could you possibly play compared to that?"
Ova's smile grew. "You miss Gwen Stacy, don't you? I can literally bring her back to life, restored from the instant before her neck snapped, so you can fuck her as long and as hard as you've always dreamed... and when you were finished... well, she'd still be alive, wouldn't she?"
Peter's own eyes didn't widen as much as the mask's eye covers, but right then it was hard to tell the difference.