Gilded Lily

by Allan, Pauline

  Nick was right, Adam thought as he ran his hand over his sweat-drenched forehead. There was a presence on this land. The air was embedded with the whispering voices and moving shades of people. This was the place where memories came to expand or die. For his Lily Flower, those memories were going to do both.

  “Adam?” He heard her soft voice behind the door. It sounded low, as if she was sitting on the floor. He kept silent. “Are you still there?” She sniffled. “If you are, please let me out. I promise I won’t disobey you again. I promise.”

  He turned to stand, then stopped. He leaned against the door so she could hear him. “Tell me your safe word.”

  “What?”

  “Now, tell me your safe word.”

  There was a long pause behind the door.

  “Marigold.”

  This was what she needed. He could tell in the tone of her voice, the way she tensed when they talked about her grandmother. The sadness in her eyes when she talked about Nick affected him. The memories of what she’d lost taunted her. Her grandmother left her longing for the innocence she’d once cherished; the bastard who made her feel shame took away her strength to fight for her pleasure; and the loss of her friend left her scarred. He knew the memories had to fuel her passion instead of hindering the desire she deserved. The time had come for her to accept what she’d lost and cherish what she’d shared with the people she loved. The time was now to let go—to experience complete abandonment. The meadow was the perfect place for her to safely let that energy transform into something beautiful.

  Adam started to make his way up the grassy incline. He looked back at the shack. Dusk was coming. He’d bring her something to eat, then leave her. Excitement filled his chest as he thought about her washing herself tomorrow. She’d be as wild as a caged cat, and he’d savor every moment of it.

  ADAM HADN’T ANSWERED. Lily looked around the small space as she hovered by the locked door. She’d promised she wouldn’t touch herself again. She shivered as she remembered the look on Adam’s face when he found her in the outdoor tub. She thought he’d gone to town, that she could just sneak a moment. But she’d quickly realized she’d been wrong when she saw the disappointed look on his face. So here she was, sitting naked on a hardwood floor with a mattress and an old, worn journal. He’s got some nerve! She’d specifically told him she didn’t like it down here; too many memories.

  Lily wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them close to her chest. Inside the cobblestone fireplace were ashes piled on the hearth floor. Who had been here? There were only two small windows that were crossed with two thin wooden slats. The herbal aroma of lemongrass and lavender filled the dusty air. There was no furniture, no radio, no TV. No other soul to speak to. She was alone. Alone. The one place she feared most. The one place Keith had said she’d always be. Realizing that dusk was looming outside and nightfall wouldn’t be far behind, she peered out of the dust-covered window as tears began to fall again.

  “Why did you leave me?” She started to sob, then gathered her breath. The realization slapped her. The empty feeling deep inside her wasn’t because Adam had left her. The others had. Her grandma’s frail body had given up. Lily had sung to her while her lungs slowly weakened. The antibiotics weren’t working fast enough, and the pneumonia was taking its toll on the withered body lying in the bed.

  Lily dipped her head to stare at the dusty floor. She’d spent night after night reading from the wretched romance novels her grandmother had kept next to her chair in the living room. Finally, on a Tuesday afternoon, her grandmother fell quietly asleep for the last time.

  Lily felt the heat on her cheeks cool with the tears drying there. She wasn’t going to break down again. She didn’t want to use her safe word. She was strong and could be down here without losing it. She recalled the last time she and her grandma had worked in the garden. She’d come back home from college to visit. They’d spent the greater part of the afternoon sweltering in the sun and drinking sweet tea as the dragonflies and bees did their familiar dance.

  “You know why my flowers grow so well here, Lily?” she’d asked.

  “Why?”

  “Stop, love. Listen to me.”

  Lily had stopped fussing and looked at her grandmother.

  “Because they know I’ll be back to see them. They smile at us. Look.” She pointed to a giant sunflower with its bright yellow petals radiating from its ebony center. “She’s watching over everyone, just like I do.”

  Lily shook her head to release the memory. She didn’t want to think about that afternoon. College had taken her away. Her life had gone from hectic to out of control, and the summer visits had dwindled. Phone calls and letters had replaced the warm afternoons spent swinging on the porch and picking carrots from the garden. Life had happened, and at the same time, life had thrown her away.

  She jumped to her feet and started looking around for a flashlight or lantern. Certainly Nicholas had kept some kind of light in here. If a mattress was here, he must have had a light somewhere. She stopped and looked over at the mattress. It was new. The white cotton sheet, it was new too. Nicholas hadn’t left these things in here. They looked fresh, newly placed. He’s planning this for me. He cares enough to keep me comfortable. Adam had planned to punish her all along, but had also tended to her needs. But how long was she to be kept in captivity? Surely he’d be back to get her by nightfall. He knew she was afraid of the dark, but mostly of being alone in it.

  She leaned her forehead against the thin glass of the window. The meadow was stretched out before the line of slave quarters. The tall grass and wildflowers were scattered across the field. The beautiful rainbow of colors had obviously been neglected. Even if she could get out, she’d cut herself on the prickly vines of the wild roses.

  The confined space started to grow smaller and smaller as the sun finally made its last descent. How quickly the darkness came down here, much faster than up at the house.

  The last of the light left the meadow as Lily lingered on the mattress with the pillow buried against her chest. With knees drawn, she curled up. “Oh, Adam,” she whispered, “please come for me.”

  She moved her leg and felt the point of something dull. Moving her hand down the mattress, she stopped when she felt the hard cover of the journal sitting on the bed. It was too dark to write in it. She rolled over and set it on the floor next to the mattress. She stilled. What was that?

  There was a rustling outside, behind the back wall. Lily buried her face in the pillow. There it was again. What kind of animal would make a noise like that? Lily held on to the pillow so tight her body began to shake.

  Lily startled when she heard the sound at the front of her solitary prison. “Is someone out there?” she yelled. She heard metal rub against metal before the door slowly swung open. Lily could see the shadow of an arm reach inside, down low, near the floor. “Adam?” She tried to reach the door before it closed.

  The door banged shut before Lily reach it. She tried the handle. It was locked. She looked down at the container on the floor. She picked it up. The wonderful aroma of fresh bread and honeydew wafted over her nose. Frantically, she opened the lid to find the small loaf of bread laden with honey and butter along with a pile of honeydew and blueberries nestled inside the container. A plastic tumbler sat beside where the container had been. Lily opened the lid to find the plastic cup full of wine. Next to it was another tumbler filled with water. Even through the darkness, she found the joy to smile.

  After arranging the containers on the floor, she sat her bare bottom on the hard, dirty floor and used her dust-covered fingers to fill her mouth with the sweet honeydew. The space didn’t seem so bad now.

  Lily trembled. But maybe, just maybe, Nicholas had been right. It could be haunted. As Lily ate her supper, she sipped the wine and looked around the space, trying to push the disturbing thought from her mind. It looked so different in the darkness. Somehow quieter…safer. She savored the thickness of the honey as she devoured t
he warm bread. She hadn’t realized how famished she was until she smelled the food.

  As she sat eating, she stilled and listened to the sounds coming from outside. The crickets were loud. The frogs chimed in with their deep bellows. Then the familiar hoot of an owl rose above the chorus. Lily smiled at the sound, realizing she was no different than the wild menagerie stuck out here in this overgrown meadow, only they were free to roam, to fly—and she wasn’t. A sense of comfort washed over her. She was fed, safe, and content. Drowsiness silently blanketed her as she crawled back to the mattress.

  * * * *

  The afternoon sun filtered through the room, revealing the clouds of dust sputtering up from the floor as she paced the small space. Where is he? Thirst coupled with the rising afternoon heat wasn’t making the situation any easier. Where is someone, anyone? Damn! She lay on her back, watching the rafters in the ceiling. Remembering the journal, she crawled back to the mattress and grabbed the leather-covered book from the spot where it had been left last night.

  The prickly hardness of the boards on her naked belly brought a welcome sensation. Surprisingly, the first page had already been written on. Lily sighed as she read the passage. The sight of Adam’s handwriting made her heart ache for his touch.

  I watch her while she is playing in her garden. I watch her while she is cooking my supper. I watch her while she is lying underneath me, writhing with my cock buried inside of her. And my favorite time to watch her is while she is moaning as my whip is coming down on her. And now, she is locked up in the little shack, waiting for my touch, my cock. She is dirty, thirsty, hungry, hot, and desperate. She is my lover, my slave.

  Lily gasped and slammed the cover shut. When was he coming back? Questions flooded her mind as she looked for the discarded pen. She scurried back to the journal and turned to the second page. The gleaming white page called to her to write her secrets as well.

  I can’t wait until he will come for me. I wait impatiently for his cock. His thick cock to be driven far into the depths of me. I crave it so much I ache. He seduces me with his whisper and fulfills me with his touch. An owl’s voice called to me last night and calmed me. Had it spoken to him and sent me his secret longing also? I fear many things…but the loss of his handsome face I fear the most. I am but a slave tethered by his design and kept by my own. He must fill this void soon, or surely I will go mad.

  Lily stared at the passage for a moment, contemplating scribbling over the whole thing. Was it too much? What the hell! She was locked in a garden shed and finding herself quite content, except for the lack of his touch. She wasn’t lying. Going mad was a viable option if he didn’t come soon. She shut the journal’s cover. The pacing began again.

  It had to be past noon. Well past it. Why hasn’t he come yet? It was time again for the costume ball, and they had only two weeks to finish up the last minute things.

  Panic took over as the walls grew malignant, inching closer. A hitch in her breath caught. Something outside? The sound of the metal latch unhooking rang through the space. “Adam?” she croaked out. “Is that you?”

  No sound, just the door creaking open. Lily cautiously walked to the door to find no one there. “Adam?” she said as she walked out onto the small, planked front porch. She squinted, trying to shield her eyes from the glaring sunshine. A smothering breeze gripped her body as she took in a full breath of the warm air.

  Looking across the meadow, through the overgrown tall grass and wildflowers peppered throughout the landscape, she could see her grandma. Her plump body bent over, snapping green beans from their little green perches. Lily wanted to rub her eyes to wash the memory away but instead took a step off the porch.

  “Can I have a strawberry?” she could hear her little voice say from the patch at the edge of the garden.

  The melodic sound of her grandma’s sweet voice drifted through her head. “Get a basketful, love. Let’s make a pie.”

  Lily smiled at the memory. Looking over the property, she felt ashamed. Her grandmother would’ve been so disappointed to find her flowers had been grown over with weeds and her garden nonexistent. Maybe, Lily thought, she could change all that. With Adam’s help she could bring back the beautiful meadow her beloved grandma had created. She could honor the memory of all those who’d suffered here.

  Just past the porch, in the tall grass, sat a wooden tub. Upon reaching it, Lily saw it had been filled with clean water. She cupped her eyes with her hand, looking around the empty meadow for someone, anyone. No one. The cool water was a refuge. The tub was only big enough to sit in with her knees drawn, but she didn’t care. It was cold, clean, and felt wonderful.

  Filling her hands with the water, she poured it over her head, letting it stream down her back. Nestled in the grass beside the tub, she found a fluffy white washcloth along with a new bar of lavender soap.

  As the lather gathered on the washcloth, she enjoyed the tranquil sounds drifting about. The dragonflies dived into the tall weeds as the butterflies fluttered above the brush. The peaceful sensations seeping through her skin felt like they had the potential to be permanent.

  The water rushing over her face refreshed the frantic sensations that had overtaken her in the shack. A sense of serenity replaced the panic. As the calm came, a rumbling settled in her stomach. She was hungry.

  Realizing whoever brought her the tub had forgotten to leave a towel, she stepped out of the water and shook off like a wet dog. The coolness of the water was left behind on her skin, allowing the hot summer breeze to feel like a warm sheet engulfing her entire body.

  Looking around, seeing no one, she decided to take advantage of the open door on the shack and explore. The wild roses claimed the flesh on her calves, leaving their cutting marks as she made her way farther into the meadow. The sunflowers were scattered with bunches of wild lavender and misplaced daisies. The sky seemed a brighter shade of blue out here. Why had she feared this place so much?

  A wince drew her breath as her foot caught on something hard. Kneeling, she found a dull piece of metal. As she dug the dirt away from it, she gasped when she realized what it was. Slowly, she unearthed the small, rusted spade. The examination of the small shovel brought tears to her eyes as she stood up, looking for her grandmother as if she’d come out of the bush to claim it.

  No one came. No one at all came to claim this piece of her precious past. She had traveled from her wooden bathing tub to wander in all this overgrown meadow to find her peace. This small gardening tool was able somehow to bring her the much-needed tranquility she’d longed for all her life. Her grandmother had been right. There were voices and memories here. The wonderful woman she had spent so much time with had made this a place of joy for the ones who’d been here. She’d created a space sacred for them and in turn made a place for Lily to come to and be at happy.

  Deep down inside she knew she deserved it, to be down here. And now, looking at this simple yet complicated artifact of her past, she knew she was where she needed to be. Being in this placed wasn’t an imprisonment, it was a confirmation of freedom. Freedom to let Keith’s hurtful comments go, to enjoy watching two men fuck, and find pleasure in pain.

  She wanted to be kept in this shack, this meadow, because it brought her the pleasure of release, of acceptance. She knew now that she needed to experience everything that fear and joy could bring. She deserved to be loved by someone who could be her other half—an alpha for her omega. Someone who could supply her demand for all things forbidden and find the same peace in eroticism as she did. Her someone. Her hero.

  My Adam.

  Lily returned to the cabin, wild daisies and dandelions in hand, to find the door still standing open. A sharp sensation made her calf itch. She inspected her legs to find the thin cuts from the thorns on the wild roses. She set her bounty of flowers on the stoop and set out to rinse her legs in the wooden barrel. The washcloth and soap were missing. She turned around to see if someone was near. No one. Inspecting the shack again, she noticed the door wa
sn’t as open as she’d left it.

  She finished rinsing her legs and rushed inside to find a cleaned basin, tray of food, and pitcher of ice water. She looked down and wished he’d at least left her some clothes. But who was going to see anyway, the ghost bringing her the new supplies?

  The journal was gone. She smiled and sat down next to the tray. Again, she filled her belly and drank from the pitcher. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Thank God her captor had opened the windows. She was excited by the thought of the night’s breeze floating through the darkness and wrapping around her. Instead of fearing it, she found herself welcoming the intrusion.

  Lily snuggled on the mattress and drifted into a deep sleep. She jerked awake some time later and lolled around on the mattress, trying to fully wake up. She began to pace the floor when she noticed the door had been shut. It had been open when she’d fallen asleep. And the tray of food was gone. The need to make contact with Adam made her eyes water. She wanted to curl up in the corner and scream, but what good was that going to do? The situation was completely out of her control.

  Dusk had set in as Lily looked out one of the small windows. She shook it as hard as she could, to only open it halfway. She reached her head out to see the moon’s glow igniting the tree line. The sound of soft footsteps scraped across the porch. The thud in her chest beat like the hooves of a wild stallion. She quickly turned and watched the door creak open.

  This time Adam didn’t make an attempt to hide his presence. He stood in the doorway half naked, silently watching her.

  Was she dreaming? Had she finally gone mad down here? “Adam?” Her voice was dry and weak.

  He maintained his silence as he set the journal on the floor. His dark hair was a wavy mess, and his stubbled chin was a reminder that this adventure was taking a toll on him as well. He wore no shirt, only a pair of loose-fitting jeans that hugged his narrow waist. The dark work boots that he was wearing were covered with dirt. He was sweaty and covered with what looked like a patchy layer of sawdust. Each muscle of his broad chest twitched. His tight abdomen flexed and released. His muscled biceps curled as one hand rested on his hip and the other held… What was that?