The Discovery

At first, I wasn’t even sure of what had happened.

I’d taken my pontoon boat out, heading out onto the lake for a swim. It was a brutally hot day for Vermont; the temperature was hovering just under one hundred degrees and the humidity wasn’t far behind.

The boat was moored at my brother’s camp but it being a weekday, nobody was there except for my eighteen-year-old niece Becky and one of her girl friends, enjoying their last summer before college. Becky and her friend weren’t home, however, they’d taken Becky’s little ten foot speedboat out and motored south to the Sand Bar State Park in South Hero.

Just as I was casting off from the dock, another one of Becky’s friends showed up at the top of the stairs, a tall, striking youngster we called Henderson, dressed in cutoffs and a tiny bikini top. When she found out that the girls weren’t there, her shoulders slumped. She had really wanted to get out on the lake today to go swimming.

So I, being a total sucker for pouting nineteen-year-old cuties, invited her out with me. About a half a second later, she was down the stairs, out at the end of some fifty feet of dock and laying on one of the two couches in the bow of my pontoon boat. Somewhere along the way, she had managed to shed the cutoffs and she was in just her bikini.

A bikini that wouldn’t fill a thimble.

Henderson was about five feet, eight inches tall, and one hell of a sexy little package. Her face was an oval shape, dominated by a wide mouth with plump, sensual lips. Her nose was wide but it fit her. Her eyes were brown and glinted mischievously. She had a beautiful smile with even white teeth and her hair was midnight black, thick, satiny and cut short. She had long legs, strong and shapely from hours of soccer and field hockey. Her butt was fucking perfect, wide and womanly and just looking at it made me think of bellying up to it and sinking my cock into it. At first glance, she looked a little wide through the hips, until you noticed the hourglass figure that they gave her. Her belly was firm and just the slightest bit rounded. Her bikini bottoms rode low on those sexy hips, so low that they should have been showing some bush, but they didn’t. She had a slim waist and her breasts were perfect for her, ripe, lush mounds that sat widely spaced and girlishly high on her chest.

Her name? When she was hanging around with Becky and family, she answered to Henderson. My brother had told her once that she looked like a Henderson and apparently the name had stuck, at least while she was at camp.

We’d motored over to Lazy Lady, a privately owned island just outside the entrance to Saint Albans bay and I’d run the pontoon boat up onto the only beach on the island. The land dropped off quickly there, if you wade ten feet out from the beach, you’ll be treading water.

It was the work of just a moment to loosely secure the boat to a handy tree with a dock line, and then I climbed back on board, walked the twenty feet to the back of the boat, stepped up onto a seat and then to the padded sun platform that hid the outboard engine and dove into the cool, refreshing water.

I arrowed down about fifteen feet to the bottom, looked around for a few moments, and then planted my feet on the sandy bottom and pushed off strongly for the surface. As I pushed off, something gave way under my right foot and I felt the unmistakable pain of something slashing the bottom of my foot.

I was on the surface just a few seconds later and as I lifted my foot to check it out, I could see the trail of red it was leaving in the crystal clear water. And then, something strange happened

A big air bubble erupted from the water right in front of me and a moment later, my vision clouded, and I felt short of breath. It only lasted for a few seconds and then I felt completely normal again. I wrote it off to the sight of my blood in the water.

I lifted my right foot a second time and looked at it, and sure enough, there was a three or four-inch gash on the sole, and it was bleeding at a pretty good clip.

‘Damn it!’ I thought as I looked at it. ‘I wish I hadn’t cut my foot.’ And as I watched, the ugly little gash closed up and vanished.

My jaw dropped and I said to myself, “What the fuck just happened here?”

And from behind me, a pleasant contralto voice said, “I fixed your foot, Master. Isn’t that what you wished for?”

I damn near drown before I recovered from the surprise she’d given me. And then she had me by the arm and I was standing on the sand of the beach before I knew it, my unexpected visitor right beside me.

I looked at her and then I took another look. She was worth two looks, at the very least. She was blond, she was stacked and she was beautiful. She was a dead ringer for Barbara Eden from the old TV show I Dream Of Genie, only better, younger looking and way more sexily provocative than Miss Eden had ever been allowed to be on network TV in the sixties.

Her body was absolutely perfect from the part in the thick mop of her platinum blond hair to her small, slipper-clad feet. Her waist was impossibly slim, and the ripe, heavy mounds of her breasts and her womanly hips accentuated it. Her hips made a cradle of her flat, firm belly, a cradle I’d have given my left nut to lie in. Her ass was achingly perfect, as were her long legs.

She was dressed as Miss Eden had dressed on the show, except for one small detail. You could, in the right light, catch tantalizing glimpses of her gorgeous body through the sheer bra and pants of her harem outfit. And the light was right a lot! The soft pink of a pouting nipple, the golden fleece that covered the mound of her sex, the tight crack that split her delightful ass, all were seen in fleeting peeks as she moved. Oh, and there was one other thing.

She was dry. I know damned good and well that she had been twenty five feet out into the lake with me, and yet her harem girl outfit was bone dry.

I leaned against my boat and shook my head violently. I had to be dreaming. But she was still there when I looked up.

“It’s not a dream, Master,” she smiled. “I am real.”

“How many times have you been told that you’re a dead ringer for Barbara Eden? And how did you fix my foot? And how...”

“Unca Jerry? Who are you talking to?”

Shit! It was Henderson. I’d forgotten all about her. She was sitting up on the couch and looking at me like I’d lost my mind. And no, she wasn’t related. All of Becky’s girlfriends called me uncle, just because she did. Their way of teasing an old bachelor, I suppose.

The beautiful blond Genie raised her hand in a small sweeping gesture and Henderson just ... stopped. Right in the middle of getting off the couch, she just stopped. It was like someone had pressed her pause button.

I sagged back against the boat, staring at Henderson and trying to decide if they’d use a butterfly net when they came to get me, or just ask politely.

“Good heavens!” the blond exclaimed. “Surely your grip on reality isn’t that weak?” She shook her head and said firmly, “You are NOT losing your mind. I am real. I exist and I am a Genie. Your Genie, now. And yes, you may call me Genie.”

I stared at her for a few seconds as she smiled at me. “Ah, is that why you, um, look like her?” I asked. I was stalling for time, trying to decide which of us was crazier, her or me.

“Yes. Do you remember when you felt a little ... discomfort, out in the water? That was me, indexing your mind. I know everything that you know now, so that I may serve you better. And since she played the part of a Genie, I took on her form to make you more comfortable with me.”

And she suddenly morphed into the Genie from the Aladdin cartoons. “Unless you’d prefer me this way.” he boomed.

I leapt back in surprise and croaked, “Christ, no!” And just as suddenly, the beautiful blond was back.

“I thought not,” she smiled.

“Um, where ... where did you come from?” I asked. “I didn’t see a lamp down there.”

“You stepped on my bottle and broke it, cutting your foot and releasing me. Releasing me, of course, made you my Master.”

“Of course.” I echoed, fighting down the sudden urge to laugh. “Ah, how did your bottle wind up here?”

“Oh, Samuel lost it in a storm one night, and I’ve been down there ever since.”

“Samuel who?” I asked. “And how long ago was it?”

She looked surprised. “Why, Samuel de Champlain, of course! He lost me in 1609, some four hundred and seventeen years ago.”

We talked for another half hour and Genie laid out the rules for owning a Genie. And the rules are that there are no rules. How a Genie serves her Master depends on the Master and to a lesser extent, how the Genie feels about her Master.

“Let me put it this way,” Genie said. “An evil Master doesn’t last long. Evil is based on hate, and us Genies, well, we’re lovers, not haters. So if you’re planning World domination or something like that, you’d better write your Will.”

“You mean that you’d, ah...”

“No.” Genie shook her head. “I won’t kill you outright, but I’d find a way, and that way would be a direct result of the wish that brands you as evil. So no World domination or mass murders, ok? Just stick to the usual and we’ll get along just fine.”

“What, ah, what do you consider ‘the usual’?” I asked.

“I can make you rich, famous, handsome and irresistible to women ... All the usual stuff men ask for. But no immortality. The only way you can die now is from one of two causes; old age ... Or me. You’ll have to settle for that.”

“Ok. That sounds reasonable, I suppose.” I said. I got up off of the sand where we had sat during our talk and headed for the boat. I untied it and climbed aboard, and then turned and offered Genie my hand, and helped her aboard.

I sat at the helm and looked at Henderson, still paused in place. Genie made that little wave again and Henderson was suddenly back on the couch and asleep, judging from the way she was snoring.

“No one can see me or hear me, unless you and I both wish it.” Genie said, answering a question that I had not asked.

I sat and thought for a moment and then said, “I like the answers to the questions I didn’t ask you, but should have.”

Genie smiled and I got a definite feeling of approval from her. “Very good, Master. Here are the answers. No one will attempt to occupy the space that I am in or even notice that the space appears to be empty. No one will ever know that I am a Genie. You’ll find that you can’t tell anyone about me, no matter how hard you try.”

“Nothing can keep me away from you unless I am sealed in my bottle by you. Someone else sealing my bottle will not lock me in, only you can do that. I cannot die and I do not get sick. Serving my Master is my reason for being, and I do not tire of serving or from serving. You do not need to talk to communicate with me. Just thinking your words at me will allow me to hear you. It works over any distance unless I am sealed in my bottle by you.” She leveled a serious look at me. “Keep that last one in mind. If you seal me in my bottle and something happens, I will not be able to hear you. Masters have died that way.”

“Offhand,” I said slowly, “I can’t think of a single reason to lock you away. What’s the point, if I own you body and soul?”

She nodded approvingly and said, “You would be surprised at how many Masters don’t think of that.”

She continued, “I will tell you if your wishes go against my ‘Do no Evil’ rule. I can reverse any and all of your wishes if you want me to, at any time. Any granted wish for something that would normally require a paper trail in the real world will have that paper trail and it will be completely genuine and correct. Wishes involving great wealth are granted with no financial damage to any person, business entity or Government.”

She saw my questioning look and answered the question I had not asked. “There are more lost riches in your world than you can imagine. I could make you richer that the top ten richest men listed by Forbes and it would not even make a noticeable dent in that lost fortune.”

She gave me an inquisitive look and I nodded at her. “Thank you,” I said. “Please continue.”

“Wishes involving time travel are possible, but not too likely to be granted, owing to the nature of time itself. Wishes involving weather are possible over a limited area, usually a couple of hundred square miles. I cannot create weather arbitrarily. A sunny day will require that the correct type of front be available for me to build on.”

“Wishes involving body modifications are allowed. If you want a two-foot horse cock, I’ll give it to you. However, finding a woman who’ll let you fuck her with it is your problem.”

I smothered a laugh and said, “Sorry. Please, go on.”

“Wishes of a sexual nature involving other beings are allowed, but only if the other beings are willing, understand what they are about to become involved in and if it does them no physical or mental harm. Age is not a limiting factor. I am the sole judge as to whether or not a sexual partner meets those conditions. Wishes involving sex with animals will not be granted for the reasons I just stated. Wishes of a sexual nature involving my person will not be granted, unless I desire it too.” She gave me a bawdy grin and said, “Genies are, on the whole, a very horny breed.”

“Jesus!” I muttered, shaking my head. And then her last sentence replayed in my mind and I looked at her. She looked back at me calmly and then winked and smiled. I smiled back and then laughed.

“I think that we’ll get along just fine.” I said, and started the boat.

Henderson

As soon as the engine turned over, Henderson woke up. Genie did her little wave thing again and Henderson froze. Then Genie held her hand out over the side of the boat and a broken clay bottle burst through the surface of the water and landed in her hand. Some shards of broken clay followed the bottle and it fitted itself back together, the pieces melding back into the bottle seamlessly.

She set it down on the seat beside her and it vanished, as if it had never been there. A second hand wave and Genie vanished. At the same time, Henderson finished sitting up and said, “What’d you let me sleep for? I wanted to go swimming.”

I goosed the throttle and the boat slid off the beach and into deep water. “I figured you must have needed the sleep.” I said as I put the motor in neutral.

Henderson got up from the couch and walked over to me, seated in front of the helm. “Can I drive?” she asked.

“Sure.” I slid out of the seat, making sure to do it in such a way that the tall nineteen year old girl had to back up a little to make room for me. She stepped out of the center aisle, in front of the gate, and before she could react, I scooped her up in my arms and tossed her overboard.