tagChain StoriesLaresa's World Ch. 09: Hanna

Laresa's World Ch. 09: Hanna


Author's Note: I appreciate the great response from readers as well as the wonderful stories that the other writers have contributed to this chain story of a genie. I am enjoying it and look forward to more chapters as we each take the time to bring some entertainment to your day. Thank you to gotwood49 for help with my paltry attempt to edit; he sure likes red ink. Enjoy the read and as always, please fill free to comment on the story. We writers love it ~ as is my policy, only respectful public comments remain in the public comment section. . .even criticism can be done with class. ~ Red

In a medallion lost in time and space, waiting to be found. . .

Horace played with the images in his mind. His hand ran over his chest, down his abdomen and across his waist, as he remembered the time he'd spent with the young genie. Her eyes had been full of innocence and desire. Her lips tasted the sweetest after she'd serviced him, and her gaze reflected the feelings of love she had often spoken out loud as they lay in a sweat-coated embrace.

"Horace," she'd whispered, and snaked her magic around his sex, making it rise; though he had the ability within himself.

"Yes, little one?" he asked, and twirled her satiny locks of silvery hair.

"You never say you love me," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Little one, love is a fleeting thing," Horace answered, and rolled her to her back. "I love power. I enjoy you," he told her and thrust his sex into her eager home.

She arched her back, as the memories began to move past her in a blurred rush.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Indianapolis, Indiana - 2006

Hanna rolled the ring in her palm, and tossed it up and down in the air. "Magic, huh?" she whispered. She thought of the young woman who had pushed it into her palm as she quickly hurried away. Why had the woman been in such distress? She wondered what had caused the look of terror on her face, but was then forced from the sidewalk by a crowd of running police officers. She'd cursed them, but quickly picked herself up. As she brushed herself off, she slipped the ring into her pocket. Now she lay on the freshly mown grass of the park and played with the gold- and gem-filled jewelry. "Stolen?" she thought. "Was that why she was running?" She wondered if she'd ever have the answer, but something told her she wouldn't.

"Oh, well. Magic or not, it is one fine rock." She slipped it on her finger and placed her hands behind her head. Bending her legs, she began to watch the sky darken and the stars come out. Several glittered down on her, and she smiled as she tried to count the diamonds in the sky. She blew on the few strands of strawberry-blonde hair that fell across her forehead and quietly whispered, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star; how I wonder what you are. Up above the World so high; like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star; how I wonder what you are."

"I believe that is to be sung, Mistress, not spoken."

Hanna jumped to her feet and spun around. "Jesus Christ, Lady! You don't sneak up on someone like that. You'll get yourself killed!"

"Only if the ring is destroyed would I die, Mistress."

"The ring?" Hanna asked, and then looked at the ring on her finger. "Hey, that woman gave me this thing. But it ain't worth dying over."

"Not for you, perhaps; but for many it is, and it is certainly worth my life for it not to be destroyed."

"Is it yours?" Hanna inquired. She eyed the woman and then laughed as she realized what the stranger was wearing. "Oh, good lord. Who put you up to this? Brian? Katie? Dean? Those jerks."

"Mistress, these are your friends, but I have not had contact with them. I can if you like, though. You only need to think your desires, or voice them, and they will be yours."

"You're good! Bubble pants and a sweet little vest, just like in the movies. I bet if you wanted, you could even bob your head and flick a pony tail up, to make spells work," Hanna chuckled.

"Is that your wish?"

"Nah! I think all that Hollywood stuff is crap. But, come on. Who sent you?" Hanna asked. She watched the woman in the genie costume take on a perplexed look. "Okay, I'll play along. What the hell! The guys paid good money for this freak-show. I might as well make sure they get their money's worth." Hanna cleared her throat. "I wish for a mansion on a hill, overlooking the ocean."

"Which ocean? And where?"

"Which ocean? Damn, I don't know. Pick one," Hanna said, rolling her eyes. "And as far as where, I don't give a flip, either! This is just for kicks. I figure I'll end up with some toy in my hand, like a snow globe or something. But the real thing would be cool," she said with a sarcastic laugh.

"Mistress, I cannot choose for you. You must tell me what you wish, and where you wish to be."

"Fuck, man! Oh, okay. A mansion on a cliff, overlooking the ocean, in Hawaii." She giggled hard and then suddenly she felt a breeze. Hanna smelled the ocean, and was embraced by the rays of a tropical climate. "What the hell?" she said, and spun around. She felt her balance start to go, and she scrambled to catch her footing. She turned to look over her shoulder, and noticed a beautiful blue ocean and the cliff edge she was standing on. "Holy fuck," she muttered, and jumped three feet forward. Her gaze returned to the front, and she stared at the huge house that, she swore, took up three football fields. "Wow," she muttered.

"You are pleased?"

Hanna spun around and with a slack jaw, muttered, "Yes." She swallowed and shook her head, opened and then clenched her eyes tightly shut, counted to twenty, and then opened her eyes; only to repeat the shake, clench, count system three more times, before she said, "I wish for a million dollars," quickly adding, "tax free!"

She watched the genie roll her eyes and blow strands of wispy silver hair off her forehead. That image was soon replaced, when Hanna's gaze focused on two large glass boxes that suddenly appeared on either side of her. They were both filled with green hundred-dollar bills. Hanna slumped to the floor. "Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck!"

"Mistress, I . . ."

"Wait!" Hanna lifted her hand, commanding the woman not to speak. "One more. One more. Oh, fuck. . .One more. Don't waste it. World peace? Nah. . . Think of all the unemployed military. A cure for cancer? Oh, that would be good, but. . .scientists need jobs, too; and pharmacists and . . . nah. . .Cancer; yeah, that's it." She looked up and stared at the woman, no longer doubting that she was, in fact, a genie. "I wish for them to find a cure for cancer."

She waited for some sign that her wish had been granted, yet nothing happened, and the woman still stood there. "Ummm. . .aren't ya gonna do something? Zap a lightning bolt, or perhaps cause some great wind, and then disappear."

"Mistress, I can not give a cure for cancer. It would cause too much of a ripple. I can tell you, though, that I have been in the time where they find the cure. So, in essence, Mankind fulfills their own wish, and I can only heal individual sufferers. It was sweet of you to desire that. I can sense in you a great want to have that wish fulfilled. I am sorry I am not able to do it. If I may. . ."

Hanna lifted her hand again, cutting the stunning creature off. "Okay, so not big wishes. I guess these are small ones?" she said, waving her hands toward the money and the huge house.

"Yes, minimal and easily explained in history, but if you would like. . ."

"No. Now, stop. I don't need the ins and outs. I know how this works," Hanna said. She tossed back her hair and stood up, walking back and forth, until, finally, she spun around to face the woman. "I wish for a full body replacement," Hanna grinned. "I mean, the perfect healthy body. Little fat, but I want sexy curves; round boobs, that are natural; and I want flawless skin, but bronzed, with no tan lines. My ass? Raise it a little, round it out. And then, this. . ." She lifted her shirt and pointed to a scar. "I got this when I was eight; when I fell on a pair of scissors. I want this scar gone. You know what I mean, don't you?" Hanna asked, "and hey . . .what's your name?"


Hanna grinned. "Cool. Now I'm ready. I wish for that body I told you about."

"It is done, Mistress," Laresa answered with a smile.

"Huh?" Hanna made a face and then looked down at down, at her perfectly tanned arms; slim, and free of scars from her childhood. "Whoa. . ." she muttered, and lifted her shirt, seeing that scar, too, was gone. Her hands moved under the material and she cupped her breasts. "Oh, yeah," she said, and giggled. "This is too fuckin' awesome." Her hands moved behind her, and she squeezed her ass cheeks. "Hot damn! Very nice." She winked at the woman, and then sighed in delight. "Now, this is a body to die for. What happens to you? Do I give you to someone, toss the ring over my shoulder and whisper words of magic? You gonna teleport, like Dr. Spock?"

"Mistress, I am your servant," Laresa told her, bowing her head and then raising it, her gaze holding that of Hanna's.

"My servant. Like. . .my slave girl," she said, with a humorous giggle. "I mean, the whole three wishes thing doesn't apply?"

"Exactly, Mistress. I am to serve you."

"Woo-hoo!" Hanna spun around and chuckled. "Let's get this money into the house, and talk. I have a feeling you and I are going to have fun. Too bad I don't have two of you. That would be something! Fuck, I wish I had a second genie," she said offhandly. "How cool would that be?"

Laresa's eyes grew wide. "Mistress, no. . .Don't. . ."

Hanna watched in wonder as a ray of light formed from a single speck of dust. Laresa closed her eyes and waited for the winds to settle. Hanna watched in disbelief as the speck grew brighter, and then burst suddenly into a million pieces.

Horace cursed, as the pull of the medallion forced him from his erotic fantasy. He looked around and found the source that radiated around him. His eyes grew wide in amused shock, and then he turned to see the woman wearing his medallion. He then looked back to the silver-haired Goddess.

"Laresa, it has been a long time, hasn't it?"

Laresa shuddered, and her stomach pitched forward. "Horace," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the genie. "It has been some time. This is Mistress Hanna," she whispered.

"I didn't tell you my name," Hanna answered, as she stared at the man before her. His slacks were similar in fabric to Laresa's, but darker; more black and form-fitting. His sex was covered by thicker woven material, and she found herself curious as to what was under the fabric; but refused to form the words "wish" in her mind. There was no hair on his body, or at least the parts she could see, and she unknowingly licked her lips.

"You need not tell her anything, beautiful one. She is your slave, your minion. Her job is to read your mind and give you whatever your heart desires. I, too, know your needs. I am glad my form is pleasing to you," Horace whispered, as he reached out and touched her neck. "You now wear my medallion."

Hanna shuddered from the intense heat that rushed through her skin. She felt her nipples tighten. "Where did that come from?" she asked, and then felt the warm touch of the genie's skin when she brushed his fingers. Her palm patted the medallion that rested against her breastbone. She looked to Laresa.

"Horace was the closest genie without a Master, or Mistress. When you wished for a second genie he appeared," Laresa replied.

Horace quickly took over. "I can see what you are thinking, Mistress. No, you may not wish for more genies. It is not allowed. Thousands of years ago, there were evil-doers that possessed hundreds of genies. Many worlds were destroyed before order was restored, and the laws of the Djinn, or genies, were rewritten. It is for the safety of millions that a limit was placed on the number of genies one is allowed. Two is a small number, but," Horace whispered and moved closer, "we are still a powerful force."

Hanna moaned softly as she felt another rush of heat flow over her. "Damn," she muttered and shivered. "Spine tingling," she groaned.

"Laresa, you have done well in your growth. I have thought of you through time," Horace said, turning his attentions back to Hanna. "Mistress, I believe you will like having the power of two genies. I sense in you a hunger for more knowledge. A need to have fine things and explore different places. Worlds, perhaps? I stress to you, that you have much time to learn of many new things; you are quite safe in my powers."

Laresa felt a soft growl roll from her throat. "Mistress, if you'd like we can remain here or go; he speaks the truth to you."

"He can't lie? How come?" Hanna asked, her gaze traveling to the handsome genie and then back to the beautiful woman by her side.

"No, Mistress. He can not lie to you, nor can you lie to him. There are rules, Mistress. Horace mentioned them, if you will recall. He said they had been rewritten. He is a tricky one, though, I caution you. It is my job as your servant to warn you when you are in danger, unless you wish me not to." Laresa felt Horace's gaze.

"Why did you tell her this? Are you still choosing to reveal all to your Mistresses and Masters without them asking for it? You are a foolish one, but still beautiful," Horace mentally whispered to Laresa.

"Go away," she muttered silently.

"I can not, my sweet flower, she has not wished it."

"I will make her see the true depth of your character," Laresa replied. She kept her thoughts divided, one set on her Mistress, the other on protecting herself from the charms of Horace.

"I am only a mere mortal when I am in your arms and the arms of all women," Horace purred.

"You are what the Earthlings call a smooth talker, a playboy, a trickster, a fool. . .a. . . ."

"Enough, woman," he hissed."

"I'd like to go inside the house and then, perhaps, we can discuss other things," Hanna said, unaware of the genies' silent war of thoughts.

"Of course, Mistress," Horace said, offering his arm to her.

Laresa's gaze fell on her Mistress and the other genie. She felt his glee when Hanna took his arm, as if he was a fine gentleman and she, Laresa, was simply the help.

"Mistress, he is not to be trusted," Laresa mentally connected with Hanna.

"Holy fuck!" Hanna jumped back and stared at Laresa. "You just talked in my head. Don't do that again! You freaked me out. At least Horace was gentle and warm. Damn, woman," she rolled her eyes and sighed. "You said you're younger than Horace, right?" Hanna asked.

"Yes, Mistress. Horace is an old genie," Laresa stressed.

"Old means wiser," Hanna said and turned to Horace. "I will leave you in charge of Laresa, and you will answer to me. She can be, like, your employee. Your underling. . . Your. . ."

"Apprentice?" Horace asked, offering a word to his Mistress after sensing her struggle.

"YES! Apprentice. She will be your Apprentice."

"Mistress, I don't need. . ." Laresa heard the words, before Hanna whispered them.

"Laresa. I wish for you to listen and follow the commands of Horace. You will obey him as if he were me. He will be your Master and I your Mistress. You will do this, but. . .I will overrule him if I feel it necessary."

Laresa felt her world shift and she turned her gaze to Horace.

"You'll suffer from this. . .someday," she told him.

Horace said nothing, keeping his thoughts hidden from Laresa. "Mistress," he said. "I am honored by this wise decision and I will not lie to you, I am greatly pleased. Laresa is young and she will learn much under my rule."

Hanna grinned. "See, he's not a bad genie. Laresa, I bet you and he were lovers and you had a lover's spat some century ago. Come on, let's see what this house is like, and decorate."

The small group walked into the richly adorned house and Hanna smiled. "Oh, which one of you did this?" she asked.

"I did, my Mistress; I read your thoughts; gently, mind you, and produced the things you desired. You had not asked me to not enter them," Horace told her.

"No, you're cool. You were warm and gentle. She just popped in there unannounced, and started throwing accusations around," Hanna said, her voice showing her annoyance with Laresa. "You're welcomed."

"You honor me, Mistress Hanna."

Laresa rolled her eyes and blew at the strands of silvery hair that fell across her brow.

"Laresa, Mistress wishes for a hot bath and a warm meal. Do these things for her, but do them without magic. It will help you to experience life as a simple female and help your magic in the future, by bringing more realism to your gifts. The supplies you need are in the kitchen and in the large suite at the top of the stairs," Horace said, and then took Hanna's arm. "Mistress, I would like to hear you speak. Would you tell me of your life, though I know I am welcomed into your mind? I prefer to hear your voice."

Laresa ground her teeth and sulked off to the kitchens, while Horace led Hanna up a long winding staircase and into the largest bedroom of her home.

"Wow, you're amazing," Hanna whispered. She walked over to the bed and lay down. Her hands toyed with the medallion, and then the ring. "Me, huh? I'm not all that special. Not like you guys; you guys are magical. I probably can't wish to be a genie, can I?" she asked.

"No, Mistress, that is a wish that is not possible. A genie is a sacrifice for a people that are long dead to the world. Once the last genie is freed, we are no more," Horace answered.

"How do you free a genie?" Hanna asked.

"I have heard that it is different for all genies. If their home is destroyed, they perish and pass on. No one knows where, so it is believed they die, just like mortals cease to exist. If the trick to freeing them happens, they do not know it until they are pulled from the powers of their home for the final time," he said, and casually sat down next to her.

"How do you know this?" Hanna asked.

"I was one of the first, formed from fire and mineral and linked to the medallion. I have heard stories, just like you know of the past before it was written down. Legends, you call them; sometimes fairy tales. And I have witnessed the 'almost' death of one Djinn." Horace made a face, growing angry with his inability to answer the question of freedom to its fullest extent. It was something he was rarely asked about, as well as something he never cared to be. He loathed the idea of freedom. Freedom meant you were nothing more than a man, susceptible to the tyranny of greed, or the over-powering suffocation of kindness. His thoughts shifted back to Hanna and he listened to her voice, again enjoying the deep throatiness of it.

"There is no way to wish for Laresa's freedom or yours?" she asked.

"No, my beautiful Mistress, there is no way to do it. It is an empty wish." Horace replied.

Hanna sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "So, give me the rules. I wish for all of them that you know of, since you are so well-learned, and Laresa isn't."

Horace felt his free will become locked in a battle, one he knew he would lose. He hated when they asked for the rules. It made his job less enjoyable. He sat down and took her foot, eased her shoe off and then her sock. "Yes, Mistress."

Hanna lay there listening to the man's voice wash over her. His hands moved up around her ankles and she purred as she tried to focus on his touch and his voice. "Mmm. . ." she moaned softly, as he kneaded the muscles of her right calf. "No lying," she muttered. "Damn, you have great hands. Higher baby," she growled and spread her legs further.

"As you wish," Horace answered and smirked. He pressed circles around her knees and continued speaking softly to her. "I can not raise anyone from the dead, or make someone fall in love with you or another," he whispered and moved his palms higher, pushing deeper onto the corded flesh. "Your body is amazing, Hanna."

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