That Damned Blessing Ch. 01

Authors Introduction: This is my first foray into the magic and mind control genres, which is something I've wanted to do for quite a while now. Without revealing too much of the story in the preface, I will say that I hope to write something that is a little different from the average MC story both in how the mind control and magic affect the characters and in their reactions to it. The degree to which I succeed shall be seen, beginning with this chapter.

Also, a note to readers: while there is sex between various characters over the course of this story, only sex involving both of the main characters will be fully described -- and that doesn't start until the end of the chapter and will build gradually in later installments. If you're looking for something that gets right to the nitty gritty, look elsewhere.

That Damned Blessing, Chapter One

In Which One Is Saved and Two Are Lost

Day One

Ryan McCullen ran along the beach, following sandaled footprints in the wet sand. The prints were small, even dainty, but they marked a stride that was surprisingly long. He knew the feet that made the prints and the legs that made the stride, and he liked both very much -- but of course, what he was after was neither feet nor legs, but what was in between. And because the prints were made by a fleeing girl who was not actually trying to get away, he knew he would have it soon.

To his right the waves of the South Pacific swept in on a long arc that made up a gorgeous bay lined by green hills; out past the breakers he could see, just barely, the low shapes of four other small islands that were part of the island nation of Ranu Ratu. The country was made up of eighty-two islands, mostly tiny uninhabited rocks, dotted over four thousand square miles of ocean. He'd only ever been on Ranura, the largest island of the group, and as far as he could tell it was the only island worth visiting unless you liked looking at fishermen and jungle.

Ryan preferred looking at other things, like the girl who made these footprints.

The beach, normally pristine, was scattered with debris from the tropical storm that had struck the day before and had swatted the island with sheets of rain and gales for almost eighteen hours. At the other end of the beach from the hotel was a little collection of fishermen's huts; a hundred yards before it the footprints veered inland, up over the sand ridge that marked the edge of the beach. The ridge was topped with brush, and he knew that right over the hill was an unpaved road that ran parallel to the sea, and then past that was jungle -- or at least it looked like jungle to an eighteen-year-old kid who'd never been more than a few hundred miles from home before. In reality it was a narrow strip of thoroughly tamed forest that set off the road from a plantation of guava and papaya orchards. He crossed the road in two long strides and vaulted a rail fence. He looked left and right and then down at the ground, but his prey had seemingly vanished.

Well, she did like her games.

It wasn't even nine in the morning yet, but already the heat was turning puddles and even the damp from the ground into steam. He stepped into the shade of the trees, and while the fact that he was no longer taking tropical sun to his skin made him feel cooler, those same trees blocked the breeze so that the humidity immediately became oppressive, plastering his unbuttoned blue cotton shirt to his back with sweat.

He looked left and right again but saw nothing but trees and undergrowth. "Lexy," he called softly, playfully. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." No response came except for the sound of a distant engine from somewhere in the orchards ahead. "Lexy? I bet you're...behind this tree!"

She was not behind the tree, nor the next one, nor the next, and he was starting to get a little irritated until he heard a giggle from the road behind him. He turned and there she was: lithe and long-legged, clad in a very scanty blue bikini and a gauzy white beach shirt, her long, raven hair pulled back into a simple pony-tail, the gold stud in her left nostril glittering in the sunlight. She was looking at him over the top of a pair of Ace