The walled garden – A short story
By Yotna El'toub  (Caution F/Plant Trans)

With thanks to my proof-reader Esu.
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Inspired by Lost Boys third competition and dedicated to the LB and his work.
WARNING: This story will contain situations and explicit language of an adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal age to do so. If you are a minor or object to stories of an adult nature, LEAVE HERE IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is 18+ please abide to your own local laws. Please note and understand the content codes for this story.
 
The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story.  Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors.
© Yotna El'toub 2004

Chapter one: Outside

It was four in the afternoon, on a perfect summers day. Bethany lifted her head and stretched backwards to ease her cramping muscles. It was nearly done; the large lawn spread out before her - pristine. Bethany rested her well-padded chin on the top of the rakes handle. She breathed in deeply, savouring the sweet July air ‘Bliss’ she thought. She heard a slight cough behind her, and swiveled her substantial shoulders. Mr. Groome stood behind her, his crumpled appearance oddly out of place in so much perfection. He cleared his ancient throat.

“Master Hubbard has asked me to talk with you, Beth…” He started.

“Oh no, what have I done wrong, I’ve tried so hard – I loves it here Mr. Groome!” Bethany’s face reflected her genuine concern.

“Ahem, now calm yourself Beth, Master Hubbard is pleased with you, very pleased! He wants you to work elsewhere tomorrow – doing more vital work,” croaked Groome’s dry voice.

“Where, the vegetables patch, the nursery? Oh I’d like that caring for the young plants!” Bethany beamed.

“Even better, Beth,” Groome paused and held up a scrawny arm, the long crocked forefinger pointed directly at the walled garden, “there, the inner sanctum!”

“But, but I’m only a casual, me work in the walled garden! Are you sure those were his words?” Bethany gazed, open-mouthed.

“Yes Beth, he feels you have something to give to the old place,” Groome smiled, the first she had ever seen, “you m’dear are to be congratulated!”

“Thank you Mr. Groome, I’m so excited” Bethany turned back to her work with added gusto.

As Groome wandered away he heard her voice, she started to sing in her lovely lilting style, it was always the same song.

“Early one morning just as the sun was rising,
I spied a poor maiden in the valley below…”

Groome stuffed his slender hand deep into his trouser pocket, and withdrew a mildewed handkerchief. He paused his shuffling progress, just long enough to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Old fool” He muttered to no one in particular. 

--------------- 

Evening time arrived and Bethany’s delight evaporated, it would soon be time for supper. She hated this more than anything else, the snide comments, the hurtful glances. Bethany sighed a big sigh, and trudged towards the despised kitchen. Her thoughts took on a familiar darkness ‘Why do I have to be me, why am I so different?”

Bethany washed her hands in sullen silence, and then made her way to the supper table. Helen saw Beth coming, and she slid to the left crushing her side hard into George’s.

“Sorry George, but I got to make way for porky Beth, I don’t want to get flattened! I’m sure Tim don’t fancy her enough to offer his lap.”

Tim and George roared with laughter, and George blew his cheeks out grotesquely, lurching from side to side in a feigned wobble.

Macy spoke up.

“Leave her be! She can’t help her looks, none of us can!”

Tim winked at George.

“I think you fancy her Macy – I seen you staring at Helen when she bends over in the garden. I thinks you’re a bit of a cat flap”

“Cat flap?” queried Helen.

George replied for Tim.

“You know Helen, a cat flap – swings both ways!”

Macy stared hard at Tim.

“Just because I reject you, it doesn’t mean I’m a dyke – I’ve just got taste!”

The table erupted into laughter again, except of course for Bethany, and her silence was as profound as it was angry.

The rest of the meal passed away in good-natured banter. Bethany said nothing, soon the clock chimed 10, and they all headed for their respective bedrooms, before the dim light became total darkness.

Bethany settled down in her secret spot by the window and waited, she knew she would not have to wait too long. Keeping her head well back from the window, she stared into Helen’s window opposite her own. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark she could make out Helen on the bed, and yes, she was doing it again – playing with her young supple body – arching her back against her pleasure.

It was an odd and guilty pleasure that Bethany enjoyed, watching someone else, go where she had never been. Tonight was different, the moon was out and Bethany’s view became increasingly clear. She could make out the detail of Helen’s sensual dance in a way she never had before. For the first time Bethany was aware of her body, she wanted what Helen had.

She slid quietly from her window seat, and stood before her mirror. Raising her arms quickly she tugged the nightdress over her head. Her hands fondled the smooth slopes leading to her distended breasts and their heavy nipples. Then the moonlight flooded the room, the full moon had wrestled free of its cloud cover and a blue cast brilliance fell on everything.

Bethany saw her reflection, it was stark, and she observed all her faults, her large hooked nose, thin lank hair, and worst of all her body! Bloated breasts sagged between her chubby fingers, and her over-stretched belly took on a pasty, mottled hue. The spell was broken; Bethany sank to her bed and cried herself to sleep. 

--------------- 

Chapter two: Inside

When the new day dawned Bethany was up with the lark. Her sombre mood of the night before forgotten, she sang softly as she dressed. She slipped downstairs, avoided the kitchen and headed for the staff pigeonholes. To her amazement it was there, a lumpy envelope containing the key to the walled garden. She had only seen it once before, on the day of her induction – and now she was to work in the wonderful place!

Once outside Bethany virtually ran to the cherished gate, and she stood before it puffing madly. Her hands tore clumsily at the brown envelope, before extracting the key. She grasped it firmly and slid it into the lock, with all the care and passion a lover would use. Click, and the door swung open, one step and the garden engulfed her – the door swung to and locked itself firmly against the outside world.

There was a riot of colour, each shade carefully matched to the rest; it was as if she had walked into a Monet painting. It was an impression of paradise. Bethany walked past the flowing fountain, and breathed in deeply. The scented blossoms lifted her soul; she almost forgot that she had come here to work. Her lazy eyes ran along the borders – she could see nothing to be done – all was perfection. A light tap on her shoulder caused her to visibly jump. She spun and looked straight into Mr. Groome’s friendly eyes.

“Sorry m’dear you’d drifted off, hadn’t you – I do some times – breathtaking isn’t it?”

“It’s better than I remember it, Mr. Groome – I have never seen such perfect blooms!” Bethany whispered, overawed by the magical place.

“Yes, well quite so, but it’s a lot of sacrifice, you know m’dear” Mr. Groome answered, quietly.

“So where am I to begin?” Bethany asked.

“The rose’s, you are to feed the rose’s – come this way, Beth”

Bethany walked along the perfect lawn side-by side with Mr. Groome, now she felt proud – his equal! Shortly they tuned a slight angled corner and Bethany saw them for the first time. Row upon row of gigantic roses in every conceivable shade and colour, from black to white and from deepest red to the palest of yellows it was stupefying.

“This will be your life’s work, Beth” Mr. Groome announced, with a surprising flourish.

Bethany was amazed.

“You mean I’m being offered a permanency?” She enquired, dizzied by the thought of such luck.

“Indeed, a permanency, Beth” Mr. Groome smiled.

He then pointed to the myriad solutions and containers.

“These roses are not normal Hybrid-T’s, no these are special hybrids. The blooms are used for the main house displays. They need tender care and a special touch – you have been selected for this privilege,” Mr. Groome announced, imperiously.

“Roses are my specialty Mr. Groome, I will not let you down!”

“I know, m’dear, I know,” he paused, as if to say some thing else, then shook his white mop of hair, “get to it then girl!”

Bethany beamed, and walked confidently over to the feeds and mulches spread out on the sackcloth that protected the lush grass. Her work began.

---------------- 

Mr. Groome locked the gate securely after him, and slowly trudged towards the main garden. Half way across the lawn a waving arm hailed him. ‘Hubbard, damn him!’ Mr. Groome thought, but still he respectfully made his way to his master.

“Groome, how is the new garden bride?” Hubbard rasped.

“Settling in, master, settling in” 

“Well she better be up to it, the family’s suffering Groome, we’re getting scented blossoms – but little more, We can not survive much longer, without true sustenance!” Hubbard commented, rudely.

“Have I ever let the family down, master?”

“No, no Groome, you haven’t”

“Apology accepted, master”

“Ah, yes, good day to you, Groome”

Cursing under his breath, Groome hobbled off to his other duties.

Bethany paused in her labour, and looked up at the bright sun. It was way past mid-sky, so it must be well into the afternoon – she must have worked for hours without rest. Strangely she felt fine, not in the least bit tired. Bethany took out her water flask and took a deep draught, swigging it back quickly. 

Clumsy to the last, she missed her mouth with some of the water; it ran in rivulets over her sweating body – and finally dripped onto the parched earth. The soil drank just as deeply as Bethany, sucking the moisture into its darkness, and dampening the roses roots.

In the heat of the afternoon, the gentle breeze stirred the roses pollen into fertile clouds; they billowed across the still garden. Bethany took a deep breath, having finally slaked her raging thirst. She drew handfuls of the pollen-laced air deep within her nourishing lungs.

At the end of a long and satisfying day, Bethany left the walled garden, dutifully locking the gate behind her. Not even the thought of supper could depress her tonight; she strode across the garden singing merrily. Her buoyant mood carried her through the meal with ease; she even took part in the banter – laughing at her own ways. Bethany helped Macy clear away the plates.

“You’re in a good mood Beth!” Macy commented.

“Yes, it must be the new job” Bethany smiled.

“That and the hairdo, it really suits you – where did you get it done?”

“Nowhere, I’ve been in the walled garden all day!” Bethany replied.

“Yeah, sure – anyway we all deserve or little secrets” Macy quipped.

Macy slapped Bethany’s ample behind and ran for the stairs.

“See you tomorrow” she giggled, before disappearing.

Bethany shook her head in disbelief, and then moved the thick strands of hair away from her eyes, before climbing the stairs.

Once in her bedroom she ignored the ritual spying, she was too tired to bother watching Helen tonight. As soon as Bethany’s head touched the pillow she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

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Chapter three: Inside-out

When morning finally arrived, Bethany rose early and wandered down to the walled garden, she reveled in the freedom of have some time to wander around its splendours before the working day began. 

She found the pull of her corner of the garden irresistible, and soon found herself walking through the roses she now loved, tenderly stoking the dew damp petals as she passed. They felt almost like living flesh, smooth, slippery and seductive. Her fingers lingered deep in the recesses of one flowers petals, she felt sure it was suckling on them, just as an infant would.

Something tickled her thigh, and she reached down to swat the intruding insect away - to her surprise her fingers met lush vegetation. She glanced down her ample body to see what looked like a rose sucker, clinging to her leg. Then she felt the sharp but pleasant scratching of its thorns. Her leg felt warm, pleasantly warm, but there was something else. Bethany recognised the feeling – it was what she felt when she watched Helen secretly – it was desire!

Too late she tried to pull her limbs away from her new lovers embrace. The anesthetising power of the plant aphrodisiac had immobilised her. Her mind grew dark, the oddest feelings and desires flooded in. For some reason the name Confucius came bobbing into her head, something about ‘lay back and enjoy it’. Bethany sighed and followed the ancients’ advice to the letter.

Bethany awoke, stood, and got on with the job of tending for her roses. She lavished care on them and chatted to them, as one would a companion. All to soon her day in the garden came to an end. She locked up and walked back to the kitchen, she shared a pleasant supper with her friends. 

Even Helen was pleasant to her, asking her what diet she was on and how she had made her skin so clear. Bethany laughed off the comments, sure there was a jibe in there somewhere – but it didn’t matter, something had made her immune to the pain.

So it remained, the pattern became routine. Early mornings with her roses, days of hard work, and evenings filled with laughter. There were also the strange questions, the compliments, and a subtle change in the way Tim and George reacted to her. 

Their behaviour to her had altered; it became more attentive – almost as if they want something from her. Something she had, Bethany was puzzled – what on earth could it be?

Late one evening, Bethany looked up from her labours in the walled garden, suddenly realising how late it was. The sun was low on the horizon, and the round face of the full moon peaked above the far garden wall. Bethany sighed, late for supper again! Bethany slipped lithely through the gate, locked it, and headed to the kitchen.

Supper was over, the kitchen was empty, the plates long since scraped, and washed. Bethany simply washed her hands and went to bed. Tonight though, sleep would not come, she rolled and tossed on her bed for a while, then she finally gave up. Idly she wondered, for the first time in ages, whether Helen would still be frantically exercising her desires. Curiosity defeated her reserve and Bethany stole her way to the vantage position by the window.

Bethany drank in the moonlit drama before her for all she was worth! Helen had company, it was Tim – the couple writhed passionately on the low bed. Bethany held her breath, she watched avidly as Tim’s long stalk slid in and out of Helen, over, and over. The desire hit Bethany from nowhere, intense and primal need – burst from her belly. She slid quietly from her window seat, and stood before her mirror. Raising her arms quickly she tugged the nightdress over her head.

Her hands fell to the gentle slopes of her firm breasts, her fingers twined themselves around the high domed nipples. Then the moonlight flooded the room, the full moon had wrestled free of its cloud cover and a blue cast brilliance fell on everything. Bethany saw her reflection, she was beautiful, dark brown hair cascaded in lush ringlets to her sumptuous breasts, her waist nipped tightly in, and the muscles on the flat stomach glistened.

Her eyes fixed on her sex; dark hair framed moist petal-like lips of rose red. Her lips hung lushly between finely sculpted thighs. She was astoundingly perfect. As perfect as anything in the walled garden! . The spell was complete; Bethany sank to her bed and brought on her first ever orgasm. Bethany finally fell into an exhausted, sated slumber.

----------------- 

The next day, flowed to the established routine, but Bethany felt different – complete – a woman for the first time in her dull life. She worked with an added vigour, sang with a more joyful lilt to her voice. The day flew by in happy endeavour. When the evening came she rushed to join her friends, to tell them of her fortune.

Seated around the table Bethany chatted amiably with the group. Tim spent much of the mealtime talking to Bethany, making her laugh – and teasing her. Suddenly Helen burst into tears and rushed upstairs, Tim hesitated and then reluctantly followed the sniveling girl. 

“What’s wrong with Helen?” asked Bethany, innocently.

“She’ll live, she’s just jealous Beth” Macy replied.

“Of who?” Bethany asked, sweetly.

George exploded in fury.

“Of you, you prick-tease! Don’t come the innocent with me, you flaunt it in front of us both, how do you expect us to react?”

George stood, and stomped moodily upstairs.

“Oh, I see, Helen isn’t the only jealous one!” giggled Macy.

“What you mean – George fancies, me? Don’t be so silly!”

“We all do Beth, believe me - we all do” Macy replied in a low voice.

“You all do…” Bethany’s voice fell.

She felt something pressing against her panties, it rubbed rhythmically, and Bethany shuddered involuntarily, her eyes drawn down into her lap. Macy’s bare toes were wriggling between Bethany’s thighs, as wrong as it seemed – it felt wonderful. Macy’s big toe flicked past the hem of Bethany’s pants and plundered her wetness.

Bethany jumped up, her eyes filled with horror.

“Leave me alone, just let me be Macy!”

Bethany raced from the kitchen, leaving Macy alone.
The girl shrugged, used her elegant fingers to transfer Bethany’s wetness from her toe to her expectant mouth. She swallowed, licked her lips and smiled – before sliding her saliva-coated digits deep into her own groin.

Once Bethany was safe in her room, she pummeled her pillow with pure frustration. It was just as bad; being beautiful was just as bad as being ugly. Before they had all wanted to ridicule her, now they all wanted to possess her! Not one of them wanted Bethany, she had no one, nothing. Then she thought, she did have something, she had her roses. She would visit them, she would visit her secret lover – and spend the night in rhapsody.

Bethany waited, eventually the house became quiet, and she slipped through her bedroom door. Quietly she edged it shut, creeping down the stairs. The smell of female musk hung heavy in the dark kitchen, but Bethany was soon in the pure cool night air. Her slim naked form pranced across the lawn, pausing only momentarily to unlock the gate to the walled garden.

Bethany ran into the centre of her beloved roses, and lay prone in their midst. She waited for the rustling, the soft caresses that drove her wild. She felt the familiar roughness of the stems against her wet sex. Then something new, the tender pick of a thorn at the junction of her lips. 

She grew wild with passion, thrashing her head from side to side. Small prickles assaulted her inner lips; Bethany arched her back at the sensation. She felt the final act, a thorn penetrated her clitoris – cascading her into multiple orgasms. With each gasp Bethany grew more diffuse, slowly her body merged with the soil, her intense pleasure feeding the hungry roots. Bethany fed the roses.

----------------- 

Epilogue

The girl followed Mr. Groome around the garden, nodding politely as he pointed things out. It took sometime, her large bulk made progress terribly slow. Eventually after what seemed hours the ill-matched couple walked up to the Master.

“Master Hubbard, this is Emily, our new casual gardener” Mr. Groome announced.

“Delighted to meet you my dear, I will show you around my most prized garden personally, if you would just walk over to the gate in the yonder wall – I will catch up with you presently” the master suggested, pointing to a small ironwork gate.

Emily wobbled off, making slow, but determined progress. 

“A tasty morsel, I think she’ll do well!” the master grinned.

Mr. Groome muttered something unheard, and then spoke clearly.

“Have I ever let the family down, master?”

The end.

Foot Notes                            ©Yotna El'toub 2004

I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.  As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my only payment for my work. Please address comments to Yotna.eltoub@hushmail.com
 
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