Switch with Zara herself Be Careful What You Wish For chapter 4 by deleted_user

The power was a cold, coiled serpent in your gut, restless and hungry. Staring at Zara, at the impossible perfection of her form, made the decision for you. Why shop for a used car when a starship was hovering right in front of you?

“I’ve made my choice,” you said.

Her golden eyes glinted with amusement. “Oh? And which of the mundane souls out there has caught your fancy?”

You didn’t answer with words. You lunged forward, your aged body moving with a speed it hadn’t possessed in decades. Your hand, gnarled and spotted, closed around her bare, honey-toned forearm.

The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of screaming colors and sensations. You felt your bones turning to liquid, your skin stretching and shrinking simultaneously. It was a nauseating, violent rearrangement of your very essence. You heard Zara’s gasp, which quickly morphed into a roar of pure, undiluted fury that seemed to shake the foundations of the attic.

When the vertigo passed, you were floating. You looked down and saw the dusty floorboards several feet below. You saw your own old body, crumpled on the floor, clutching its chest. It looked up at you, its face—your face—contorted in a rage so profound it was terrifying.

“You… insect!” the thing that was Zara-in-your-body snarled, its voice your own rasp, but filled with a cosmic power that cracked the air. “How dare you defile me with this… this decaying flesh-prison!”

You ignored her. You were too consumed by the reality of your new form. You held up your hands—sleek, elegant, with perfectly manicured nails. You ran them over the smooth, firm skin of your stomach, up the dramatic curve of your waist, until your palms cupped the heavy, perfect weight of your new D-cup breasts. A shockwave of pleasure, so intense it was almost painful, radiated from the contact. Your new nipples hardened into aching points against your palms. Every inch of this body was hypersensitive, thrumming with a latent, sensual energy that made your thoughts scatter. The scent of cinnamon and ozone was your own scent now.

You were Zara. You were breathtaking. You were divine.

Your old body struggled to its feet, its movements clumsy and weak. It pointed a trembling, wrinkled finger at you. “You think you have won? You think this form is the prize?” A cruel, knowing smile twisted your old lips. “The power was never in the body, you fool. It is in the spirit bound to the lamp. My spirit.”

The truth of the situation, and its terrifying question, finally pierced your sensual haze. You were in the genie’s body. But were you the genie?