Author's Note: Emily, a confident North American white 18 year old virgin has found herself slipping deeper into a contract with a workman in which she's exchanged her body for his help fixing up a hidden room. Now, after only a few days, she's concerned about how obsessed she's become with sex. She's wondering if she's been the victim of the room's prior owner, a 19
th
century occultist.
She woke up tired, not as ready to get back into practice as she had been the day before. 6:00. Swimming. She looked at the temperature. It was cool, the pool was going to be warm in comparison. Hopping in the shower, she rinsed the smell of wood conditioner off her skin, dried off and threw on her suit, shorts and a top. Her head was fuzzy; dreams she couldn't remember; the conversation from the night before.
She was thinking back to what she'd said to Cos, and what he'd shared with her. Could she do that? Do people really like that? The memory triggered the ball of worry, constantly lurking beneath the surface, that she was a fool or was doing something wrong. Not
wrong
like against the law, but like she wasn't doing something as well as she could. She didn't know what it was, exactly, but it lingered there, her constant worry.
She knew she needed to nip it in the bud before it grew too large to control.
Swimming, as always, cleared her head. The chlorine wiped the fragrance from her nose and her memory, the water, warm and embracing, her arms sluicing, her body leaping forward. She felt like a dolphin, slick from her cap, across her Speedo, to her toes. Her times were horrible, but Coach didn't seem to care. "You're doing fine, Broston. Fine. Stop trying to push it too soon. How's the body building?"
She wasn't sure if the construction work had actually been helping...
maybe the gym.
Last week had been the first she'd not gone, thinking she'd get what she needed from helping Cos. She thought about it on her drive back to the house. She thought about it while she showered.
I need to work out more.
She broke out of her thoughts and came back to the moment when she was in her room, drying off, looking at what she should wear. The jeans and t-shirt from yesterday, still crumpled on the floor? She threw on shorts and a clean t-shirt.
More conditioning
. And then she was downstairs scraping together scrambled eggs and cheese.
They'd agreed if she got the second coat on by 10:30, it would be dry enough to start staining later in the day. She looked at her phone; her friends were all still raving about the weekend, teasing her for not coming along. She posted pictures from the cabin: the lake, glass smooth in the morning, the loons, the cattails. She would have loved to be with them but was just as happy having cooled off with her family.
As she scanned through her photos, she saw the wood inlay, remembering she still hadn't looked up what it might be. It didn't take long: a Celtic love knot.
Of course it is.
Her arousal lifted up, like an animal awakened by a favorite smell.
Fucckkk...Abby...
9:15. She put down her phone, ran upstairs to throw on proper work clothes and went at the second coat, but when she got to the room she saw the plywood backing sitting on the saw horses. Looking at the other pair of sawhorses, she quickly ran through the steps she'd need to take to get them all coated so they'd be dry enough later in the day. She remembered how heavy it was, and tested one side to see if she could tip it over by herself. There was no way. Convinced she needed to start with the plywood, she turned her attention to the cans and rags.
As he'd predicted, things went much faster on the second coat, the liquid spreading farther and not soaking in so fast. With the plywood finished, she focused on the smaller pieces, the time passing quickly. She returned to the plywood, testing it to see if the conditioner had dried. It wasn't even tacky.
She ran downstairs "Cos?" She yelled down to the basement.
"Wassup?" He was covered in dust.
"I...shit...I got all the second coats done except the other side of the plywood..."
"No worries! I'll be right up."
And then, back up the stairs, waiting for him, his goggles draped below his chin, white dust everywhere else.
"K. On three."
They lifted and set the piece on its edge, then flipped it and put it back on the saw horses.
"You can leave it here and we'll stain it later." He pointed to the other set. "All done?"
She nodded, turning to the rags and cans. Fifteen minutes later she had finished, long before the deadline. She brought everything downstairs to clean up..
"Caroline?"
"Hey! Em! What's up?"
"Soooo, I'm back, and I was thinking...you busy right now? You want to check out this room I'm so weirded out about?" She held her breath.
Silence.
"Caroline? You there?" Emily's heart began to race, anxious her friend wouldn't be available. She didn't think she'd muster the courage a second time.
"Yeah! Yeah! Sorry. My phone. It goes on mute, like all the time. I'm so pissed at it. What? You want me to come over and see your enchantress's den of iniquity? Is it safe?"
Em knew she was poking at her, but wondered if it would be. She'd be the first person other than Cos and her, and if there was something going on..."Uhhh, I can't guarantee that, Caroline." She sounded funny to her own ears.
"Hnnh. You're serious. You think I might get infected or whatever and turn into a..." she stopped before she said something stupid.
"A...what, Caroline. What do you think I might be becoming?" She wasn't pissed, just poking back.
"Got me. Score. Ummm, when? Now? Hold on." Muffled voices. "Sure! I can be there in 15. Is your guy there?"
"Just get over here. Yes, he's here, but we're not going to look at the animals in the zoo, Caroline. We're going to see what Ms. Abeline Crewitt stored in her cabinet of curiousity."
"Curiosities. I think it's Cabinet of Curiosities."
Sheesh. Did everyone need to correct her grammar?
"Yeah. What I said. See you here. 15."
She ran upstairs and found the portable apothecary box, to put it back in its rightful place, aligning it exactly over the discolored rectangle. When she entered The Study, it smelled mostly of drying conditioner, but after Emily opened the cabinet, the red-orange fog of herbs and flowers enveloped her. The memory of Caroline's massage leapt into her brain, her arousal filling her gut.
Fuck. Fuck. No. Get out of here. Get your head together.
"Em?!"
