Dreams of Jeannie
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I Dream Of Jeannie 2: One Century Plus One free porn video
"I Dream of Jeannie" was created by Sidney Sheldon; it is being
parodied by me.
Please note: While under the spell that made Major Anthony "Tony"
Nelson a genie, he can no longer have a name, any name. He can
only be referred to as "genie". To keep him separated in your
mind from the real Jeannie that you know, I'm calling him
'Jeannie', since he now looks like her. To help with the
confusion, I'm also calling Jeannie's sister Genie. She, too, is
allowed to have no name. (In the original TV series the two
sisters did have the same name. That is the motivation behind my
whole concept.)
I Dream of Jeannie 02) One Century Plus One
By Ron Dow75
[email protected]
In a plaza surrounded by two, and even three-storied whitewashed
mud brick buildings, a pregnant woman in an undyed linen light,
sleeveless, robe and soft untanned apron over her skirt pulled on
a rope with a pottery jar at its end from the community well. The
people about were dressed similarly to her; those loitering in
the best shade were mostly men, and they, except for a couple of
old men, wore less; two even wore merely loincloths in the hot
sun.
The woman lifted the half-gallon-sized jar, and turned up her
eyes to see a man in a very strange (and uncomfortable looking)
muddy green attire that covered his body with only his head and
hands revealed to the hot sun; he had to be wealthy, with all
those small pieces of metal on him. (Unknown to her, it was a
U.S. Army Major's uniform.) With him was a blond woman wearing a
gold trimmed blue velvet vest, and top, bottom (with loose
gossamer legs), and slippers.
"Is this Baghdad?" the man asked.
"Which part of Baghdad do you wish?" she asked. "This is the
Persian Quarter."
"The part that Jeannie lives in."
"Roger! Even if she did know who Jeannie is, she can't tell us."
The woman with lots of blond hair piled up under a blue velvet
cap, that had still more hair that came out in a long ponytail
falling from the top of it. "Remember? "Jeannie" isn't her real
name!"
"Jeannie isn't Jeannie, any more, either. She's you... And you're
her."
"I am not! We did not switch bodies: We just have our bodies
changed into the other one's."
"Oh, that explains it. But what happened to your size 40D bust?"
"You wished it away!"
"I did? Why would I do something like that?!"
"Something about a Barbie doll."
"So-o! You want to see my daughter," the dark-haired woman with
strands of gray said, just as she picked up the jar and waddled
towards a five-foot (or so)-high pillar. (Because the sleeveless
opening was so wide, you could see the plain linen rag that she
had tied around her very round breasts.)
"You're Jeannie's mama?!" 'Jeannie' almost laughed at the
coincidence. It was like magic they'd found her so fast.
Roger studied the woman's face. "You do look like her. Only
younger."
"Roger! We're 2000 years in the past, of course she'd look
younger!"
"Right! The past. You wished me to wish you back before Jeannie
became a genie."
("Actually, I wished to go back before Jeannie's...")
"I told you my daughter is a genie. You need to go back another
century; 101 years, sometime in Leo. Ay, was that a hot summer!"
Mama said emptying the jar into a much larger, perhaps 10 gallon,
simple pottery jar.
Roger looked at the woman, amazed. "You're over 101 years old?
And pregnant!??"
"And about to deliver, at last, may Ormazd only hear my words!"
Holding her back, she put the smaller jar on the low pillar
beside the larger. "Some punishment for raising a unthankful
daughter who cannot blink her own mother indoor plumbing, right?"
"Roger! Do you know who that baby is?!" 'Jeannie' said, his-her
hand clutching on his forearm.
"I know I had nothing to do with it," Roger said, just staring at
the swollen belly.
Jeannie's mama stared back; after a century of gawks, she knew
how to gawk back.
"Roger, that's Jeannie!"
"That's right... all genies have to be named genie. Jeannie's
mother is a genie, too."
"I am no meshuga genie. My daughter is; and I told you, she is
further back in time, if you want to meet her before she was
turned into a genie."
"Why are you staring at me?" Roger asked.
"Are you not used to people staring at you?"
"I'm an astronaut. Of course I am."
"Hmm... You could be the one."
"The one what?"
"Father!"
"What??!!"
"Don't you even know the father?!!" 'Jeannie' laughed tensely.
"The memory fades. If you were a man, would you remain around a
hundred years waiting for your child?"
"Of course I would!" 'Jeannie' said, standing as erect, and
military (shoulders back, stomach in, breasts out) as he-she
could. "And I am a man!"
The woman now ran her eyes up and down the shapely form before
her. "Funny. You don't look it."
"It's magic."
The woman shrugged. "I have heard of worse wishes. Ay, the tales
that Sophia tells!"
"Sophia?" 'Jeannie' was almost afraid to ask.
"Where did you steal this fancy from, foreigner?" the chief dupe
of the loiters, a large wide man of muscle, asked with everybody
but the two ringleaders backing him up.
'Jeannie' then realized that they had been staring at his-her
body all that time. Two of the five were actually droolers. And
the one talking was looking more at his-her too prominent boobs
and butt than any place else.
"Nard!" Mama said before either of the two could say something.
"I know you're the local idiot, but even you should be able to
see that this is a genie!"
"She is?" the local idiot said, looking, for the first time, at
'Jeannie's' face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Genie! I didn't recognize
you! You changed the color of your outfit!"
"And your hair," one of those backing up added. (The two
ringleaders were trying not to laugh too hard.)
"Boo!" 'Jeannie' said. And the five of them screamed, and ran
from the plaza in different directions.
"Thank you for not putting a spell on them," Mama said, putting
her back against the well-worn pillar. As she attempted to do
knee bends while heavy with child, she explained, "I have enough
of a reputation in the neighborhood."
"What are you doing?" 'Jeannie' asked.
"Unlike you, I have to carry water back to the house," she said,
getting her head into the slot that the big jar sat on.
"You carry that huge thing!?!" 'Jeannie' cried in shock.
"On the head, too!" Roger whistled. "Strong neck muscles."
"But the back! Ay! Do you have any idea what a child does to a
mother's back? Not to mention the bladder and kidneys!"
***
Pop!
The three of them were now inside one of the mud brick houses. It
had to be the kitchen. There was a large adobe oven that covered
nearly one half of a wall; there were shelves with small pots;
there was a long wooden table that didn't look too sanitary. But
the most prominent theme were the large, some as big as 50
gallons, pots scattered about, seemingly at random; and they all
had a different style about them. Only one, about 10 gallons, was
glazed. A nanny goat bleated when it saw them, and went outside.
Four chickens continued to peck around the floor.
It was a bright shadowy place, though. One wall was missing, with
only three exposed beams. Beyond the canvass awnings were plants
and some trees (most of them had something edible, as the bites
out of them showed) filling the courtyard with brick pathways.
From the sounds, and the glimpses, piglets, and lambs, and kids,
and chickens were out there (and in some of the rooms around it).
"Not on the table! How strong do you think it is! The jar goes
there!" Mama said, pointing to a spot between it and the oven
with two openings.
"There's already a jar there," 'Jeannie' noted as he-she blinked
the first water jar before the other.
"Tomorrow is a festival. May the gods have fewer holy days! You
try fighting the crowds just to get from the well. The weeklong
ones are the worst! No wonder everyone gets drunk."
"Talk about no modern conveniences," Roger said, still taking in
the meager kitchen.
"You would think the mother of a genie could have one slave! Ay,
let her do all the women's work!"
"A slave is a "modern convenience"?!" 'Jeannie' cried, his
American history kicking in.
"What could be more convenient than not to have to do chores?"
The women's attitude changed, and she smiled at 'Jeannie'. "Of
course, the only thing more convenient would be if I could blink
everything done. Relying on others can be such a disappointment."
"I'm not your daughter."
"Ay. Do you think I would ask anything of my ungrateful
daughter?"
"You sound kind of bitter," Roger said, his survey of the simple
room complete.
"You try being down and out with child for a hundred years! Ay!
Can I expect to get my figure back?"
"I hope you don't resent your new daughter?" 'Jeannie' said.
"Resent?! Go out to the courtyard, and I will show you how much I
resent her!"
***
Outside, the noon sun struck the very exposed 'Jeannie' in his-
her harem costume. "I'm glad a genie can protect herself from the
elements." He-she looked down at his-her size-30-something-C
cleavage. "And dancing size-40D breasts."
"Look at that!" Roger said, going over to a collection of wood
and clay toys. "A hobbyhorse!"
It was a pole with two small wheels at one end, and a cloth
unicorn's (the other end of the pole) head crudely, but lovingly
made. There was small furniture, and bowls and plates, and toy
knives. And there was a cradle, and baskets for dolls of every
ancient description--wood, and clay, even some cloth ones who had
seen better days. There seemed to be just about every kind of toy
a little girl would have wanted 2000 years ago. There were
probably even dress-up clothes and jewelry and the like inside
somewhere.
"These are for your baby?" 'Jeannie' asked.
"These are what can not fit in the nursery. Ay, the things you
accumulate in a century."
"But the way you talk about your pregnancy?!"
"Who has a better right to kvetch once in a while? I should
suffer in silence?"
"Then you do not resent her!" 'Jeannie' grinned, happy and
relieved.
"I stopped resenting her a Jubilee ago. It is not her fault. And
for a burden, she is well-behaved. Our bond is strong. I do
believe she tries to please me as best she can."
Mama looked at the toys. "If only she would come out and play
with her lovely things."
"Roger, get off that hobby horse," 'Jeannie' chided the grown
man.
"Just like my child's father," the woman said, studying Roger
again. "Are you sure you are not him?"
"What?!!" Roger cried, stopping in his hobbyhorse's tracks. "No,
you've got me confused with somebody else! How can I be Jeannie's
father? I haven't even been born yet, myself!"
"Hmm... If you go back to before my daughter the genie was a
genie..."
"'Jeannie'!! I don't wish to go back!" Roger told his best
friend.
"Roger! How can you become a father, if you know ahead of time
not to!"
"I'm weak." Roger dropped the hobbyhorse, put his hands up
against his face, "Oh... The things I almost did to Jeannie!!"
"See?! You're not that weak."
"I'm weak, not stupid. Messing with a genie? (Whew!)" Roger
whistled.
"Then-"
"Ow! Ow-oh!"
"What is it, Mama?!" 'Jeannie' asked, concerned.
"Oh, it is nothing. Ow! Really. Help me to a bench where I can
sit down."
"Right. Over here," 'Jeannie' said, taking an elbow, and guiding
the bulging woman with his-her hand on her back.
"You are so kind. Young man, the master, will you find Sophia for
me? She can be so helpful at times like this."
"Sophia?" Roger asked, looking around.
"Ow!" the woman flinched forward as much as she was able with a
full belly in the way. "That one was not the worst I have had. It
will do, though."
Roger headed to an open door on the other side of the courtyard.
He could barely see over the fronds and shrubbery in the way.
"Which is Sophia's room?"
"Ay! The hemorrhoids," Mama said as she sat down very carefully.
"Sophia has no room. She lives out here in the courtyard."
"Then, where--?"
"Sophia! Sophia! Wake up you lazy creature!" the woman said,
rolling her weight onto a hip and a hand pressing up against the
wooden bench, and looking to the rafters.
Roger nearly tripped over a bird. The white breasted silver with
browns and greens thing was a little over three feet high. But
most of that was tail. It had two long pale yellow-with-stripes
tail feathers that curved out; about ten or so silver haired thin
ones in the middle, and two very thin dark ones among those.
"I was not sleeping, Madam. I was trying to eat."
"A talking bird!" Roger said.
"You have never heard of a parrot?"
"You're not a parrot. And, besides, parrots don't live in the
Middle East. Do they?"
"Neither do lyrebirds, but here I am."
"Lyrebirds? Is that what you are?"
"Sophia, will you stop talking to strangers, and come and talk to
me?"
"Yes, Madam," the bird said, moving past the man dressed in the
most outlandish thing she'd ever seen.
"That's "Sophia"?" 'Jeannie' said. "But only male lyrebirds have
tails like that."
"Look who's talking, Mister 'I-Am-A-Man'," Mama said.
"Do I not sound like a woman?"
"You have a lovely voice, Sophia," Roger said, tailing her. "Much
better than a parrot's."
"Thank you, Sir."
"How did a lyrebird get here? Australia won't even be discovered
until the year 1606! 1700 years from now!"
"It had something to do with me playing my lyre, and singing like
a bird."
"A lyre?" Roger asked. Then, noting her tail, "Is that like a
harp, or something?"
"Sophia! You mean you were once a human?!"
"Do you think a real bird brain would have anything intelligent
to say? I did know this greedy little man once who got turned
into a parrot, though. The spell made him forget he was once
human. He was still greedy the last I heard of him."
"Ay-H-ow! Enough of this chatter. I need something to help me
through my labor," Mama said, lying back on the bench.
"Yes, Madam," Sophia said. She started singing a medley of bird
songs that was very beautiful and relaxing.
"Labor??!" 'Jeannie' cried. "You mean... Now!!?! After a hundred
years of waiting, you choose now to do it?!!"
"You are a man. One does (hss!) not choose labor. It choo-(oo!)-
ses you." And the woman put a foot on either side of the bench.
The robe was roomy enough to not hike up her legs; her knees
remained covered. The top wanted to come open, though, exposing
more of that cloth wrapped around her very ample breasts.
"Roger and I took basic medicine as part of our astronaut
training. I'm sure we can help deliver Jeannie for you!"
"We!?! Who are you calling "we", kimo-sabe?"
"Roger, you were willing to think about fathering--"
"I'm not willing! That's why I don't want to go back any further!
Being a father is a big responsibility! And I've managed to be
irresponsible, so far!"
Mama tried to find a more comfortable position. "Ay, do not worr-
ry, buballahs! It's not what (ut!) you think." The woman said as
she waved her hand at them. "This is false labor pai-ins. It
happens all of the time-mm with me. When-" She raised her eyes
and a hand to the heavens- "If the real labor comes: Ay!! What I
had to do to bring my unpraiseworthy first child into my life.
What will this one be like? The stories I have heard! But at
least you get amnesia, I pray to any god who will hear me!"
"Don't you mean anesthesia?" Roger said.
"She means amnesia, Roger," 'Jeannie' said. "We're you paying any
attention in those medical classes?"
"No. Things like that make me squeamish."
"Roger, how did you get to be a soldier?"
"I'm not a soldier. I'm a pilot. Pilots don't have to look at
that kind of stuff."
"Roger, test pilots have to-"
"AY!!" she said in a show of annoyance.
"Sorry, Mama!" 'Jeannie' said. "Another contraction?"
"No. You could say, it is just the opposite. Would you like a
drink, Young Master?"
"What?"
"It will only go to waste."
"What!??!" Both of the visitors cried in surprise.
"And it has been so long since I had any man suckle from me."
"Uh, no, sorry!" Roger said, backing away. "I'm, like, trying to
avoid involvement, remember?"
"(H-ay!...)" the older woman sighed forlornly. "Will you, at
least, then, round up one of the young animals, for me?"
"Animals? That's getting kind of kinky, isn't--"
"Roger!!" 'Jeannie' said. He-she popped in a baby pig. If he
remembered his biology correctly, they didn't have many teeth.
The woman rolled up onto her hemorrhoids. "(Ahy-ngh) I used to be
a wet nurse. But I got tired of living in the houses of other
people. Now I must raise animals for the local market."
"Shouldn't you be on a farm, then?"
'Jeannie' handed the piglet to the woman who looked like how
Jeannie (and, therefore, like him-herself, now) was probably
going to look, if she was ever given the chance to age, "Roger,
it's only until more modern times that they..." 'Jeannie' saw the
woman accept the squealing animals, and start to--
"No!! I can't let you continue living like this!!" 'Jeannie'
cried. He-she slapped his-her hands on his-her slender arms, and
gave the biggest blink he-she had ever done.
Nothing.
"Never mind. Really," Mama said, pushing the piglet's head inside
the opening of her robe, and pulling down the damp rag around her
bulging mammaries. "I am a mother-yet-to-be. Such is my lot in
life. H-ay...I have lived like this for a hundred years. What is
another--"
"Roger!! You're the Master--Make me wish for Jeannie to be
born!!"
"Are you nuts!!? I'm not officially the father until there's
officially a kid!"
"Roger, you can't leave Mama like this!!"
"Why not?! I ran out on her a century ago!"
"Roger, one of these days, Jeannie is going to be born,"
'Jeannie' said in that way he had had when he had been Tony
Nelson and was making a threat. "What will she say when she finds
out who her father is... And what he did, or did not do?"
"I wish Jeannie was born."
Blink!
The little white pig became a little pink baby, suckling at its
mother's nipple. "My baby!! My baby!!" Mama wept for joy,
tenderly pressing the fresh-born to her mammary. "At last you
have arrived!! Welcome to the outside world!"
"Well-played! Like a virtuosa!" Sophia cried, hopping up onto the
bench beside her. "You had them actually believing your tale of
suffering."
"The suffering was real. It just was not happening at the moment
I most needed it," Mama said; the look on her face, though, told
them that her need to give milk was real.
"You mean this was all an act!?!" 'Jeannie' cried.
"A woman does not live a century and not know a thing or two
about dealing with foolish men." But her gaze was only for the
babe in her arms.
"I'm the father of a pig??"
"Roger!! Aren't you the least upset?!" 'Jeannie' asked him.
"I find out I'm a father, and it's a..."
"Roger!! Snap out of it!"
"Don't worry, young master," Mama said, rocking with her child.
"You are not the father. I just said that knowing that you were
this genie's master. I had hoped I could trick you into helping
me give birth. ...And now you have," she cooed, hugging her
bundle of joy. "You are her Godfather."
"A Godfather!? Only a Godfather?! I'm not the father!!" Roger
cried, a huge, relieved grin breaking out on his face. "It was
all a trick!! Oh, man! You had me going there for a while!! I'm
not Jeannie's father!!"
"Who is Jeannie's father, if I may ask?" the still peeved
'Jeannie' asked, hoping to salvage something out of the
experience.
"Oh, you will meet him when you go back in time," she said, no
longer interested in much else but the nude infant she was
stroking.
"We're still going back?" Roger asked.
"Roger, if you're not Jeannie's father, then you don't have to
worry about going back."
"That doesn't mean I can't become somebody else's father!"
"What if you do become a father... And that person is one of your
ancestors? If you don't go back, you'll never be born," 'Jeannie'
said.
"You're right. I do care if one child is born."
"Fine, then, let's go back... uh..."
"101 years ago, in Leo."
"...It was a 'hot summer'," Roger repeated what he remembered.
"You know you won't live to be over a hundred years old if we
change history?"
"I also know I will not have carry my dear daughter for a hundred
years. If you were me, which would you choose?"
"Good choice!"
"Oh, before we go. What is Jeannie's real name?" 'Jeannie' asked,
reaching out to take baby who would grow to love him.
Very reluctantly, Mama parted with her youngest. "I am going to
name her "Zahreh"! That means 'Happiness'."
"'Happiness'!" 'Jeannie' laughed. "I don't know if that is
appropriate or not. She's a happy child-woman who can make my
life happy, but she can also...."
"What is it, 'Jeannie'? Is there something missing?" Roger asked,
coming over to see the baby.
"This is a boy!!"
"Only by accident of birth!" Mama told them. "Once I do to Zahreh
what I did to Genie-"
"Jeannie's sister is a boy, too!!?!!"
"She is not!! I worked hard to get Genie turned into a girl! Is
it my fault that Genie didn't like being punished for acting like
a woman?! I trained her to be the perfect, modest, beautiful
helpmate: And did she appreciate it?!! Whoever heard of women
having rights?!!"
"In America they have rights!!"
("They do?" Roger wondered. "Then what's this about Women's
Lib?")
"This is not that foreign land no one's ever heard of! A woman's
place is just fine -wonderful!- if you know your place!!"
Thunder, lightning flashes, and an earthquake.
"Uh, oh!" Roger said, trying to keep his balance (while Jeannie
held tightly to the baby, ready to protect it with his-her own
body) "I know what this means!"
With a mighty gong, Hadji appeared before them all. He was
definitely a man, large around the middle and in the nose, with a
very waxed and pointed goatee and handlebar moustache, dark skin,
and even darker eye shadow. He wore a heavily gold adorned white
turban, robe, and opaque 'harem' pants.
"Another trespass against all that is lawful and proper!!"
"Yep. I was right," Roger said meekly.
"I see that you have not learned your lessons, Vashti: Even after
a century of a woman's suffering! If yours does not vex you,
perhaps your child's..."
"Now, wait at minute, Hadji!" 'Jeannie' broke in. "Jeannie is
your favorite! You've said so! I heard you!"
The man with the icy blue eyes in the dark shadows turned to the
one who had dared to interrupt. "You are mistaken, if you think
you know me, woman!"
"Woman!!?! You're Hadji: How can you--"
"I said 'Silence!'" And, with one sharp jab of his splayed
fingers in the air, 'Jeannie' could no longer talk.
"I'm being quiet! Tick a lock!" Roger said, and gestured. While
the great Keeper of All the Genies was distracted, the post-natal
Mama had time to slip off the bench and kowtow before him.
He stared down 'Jeannie'. "I am the Hadji of a century ago--For
that is who I chose to be!" his voice cracked and rolled like
thunder.
"You!!" he turned his fearsome attention away from the genie, to
her master. "You were given the power to circumvent law and
nature. To you it was permitted to do all things."
"I can?! I mean--did you say 'was'?"
"But there is one wish no genie may grant!!"
"Uh, delivering babies?"
"Going against the will of a Greater Master!! For that offense,
you must be punished!!" And he swept his soul-searing gaze around
the group, "You must all be punished!!"
The thunder was deafening. The lightning was blinding. The quake
crumbled the building all about the courtyard.
All that remained were the frightened animals, squealing, baaing,
bleating and squawking as they escaped from the dust into the
strangely calm streets.
...And Sophia. The she-cock was still perched up on the, now,
toppled, bench. "Can you take me with you, Sir?" she asked.
With no special effects, she, too, disappeared.
***
Okay, it's established that Roger isn't Jeannie's father. But how
about his being her mother?
Will Vashti like being a no-luck lecher?
Just how good a foster mother will 'Jeannie' be to little Zahreh?
Will they like living in an ova?
And, oh, let's not forget Genie. I hope I can surprise you more
than, perhaps, you were surprised by how this story turned out.
(As anybody who's read the story ideas I had following "I Dream
of Jeannie: One Year Minus One", all these scenarios are subject
to changes due to alternative inspirations. But once I write
something, I do want to stay consistent! I hate 'soap opera'
stories you try to follow the plot of, and which they then make
meaningless and a complete waste of your effort. Down with
Marvel!)
Please credit: I looked and looked in super search under "genie"
variations, and in key word under "pregnancy," I wish I could
find the author's name of the story about a man who found a genie
in a booze bottle at a bar, and ended up being told he would be
pregnant for 100 years.
Sorry, about that fellow author.
Before I came across that story, though, I had already written
that Jeannie's sister had already been a genie a hundred years
before Jeannie was born. Under the circumstances, I'm sure I
would have come up with a similar idea to explain that little
piece of news, and thought it original. Oh, well.
Charlize
- 13.11.2022
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- Category:
- Humor
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