Lily placed the last of the dishes into into the dishwasher, closed the door, and pressed the start button. Happily humming to the soft Christmas jingle coming from the living room, she set the timer on the coffee machine for next morning. Her husband, usually waking up before her, liked coffee the first thing in the morning.
Turning out the lights, Lily made her way upstairs. Her husband was already in bed, reading a book. She slipped under the blanket and rested her head on his chest, and eyed the page he was reading. As was usual for this time of the year, her husband was reading one of his favorite books by Charles Dickens. She has never read them herself, but knows all about it from listening her husband talk about it.
"Don't you get bored of reading this book so many times?" Lily asked.
"But it's the perfect Christmas story," her husband said. "Scrooge was began as a good man. He wasn't always destined to become a greedy, grumpy old man. I blame the society he grew up in. So the when the ghosts show him visions, they were actually showing him what his life could have been. So every year, this time of the year, I remind myself to stay true to myself."
"Hmm..." Lily said.
"If the ghosts visit you, what do you think you'd see?"
Lily, her head still on her husband's chest, looked up to meet his eyes. "I will see me just as I am right now."
"C'mon Lily... You're telling me there is nothing you regret giving up because of society?"
Lily turned her eyes away, afraid they'd let the truth slip. "Nope." She took a deep breath, faked a yawn. "I'm off to land of dreams."
"Me, too," her husband said, placed the book on the night stand, and turned out the light.
The couple kissed, wished each other love and slipped deeper under the blanket.
Lily tossed and turned but sleep kept its distance. Part of her mind kept wandering back to what her husband had said, and the other part would force those thoughts out.
Piercing through her internal turmoil, a flash of light filled through the room. Lily yelped and sat up.
By the foot of the bed, a ball of light was floating, swaying in the air.
"Lily..."
Lily tried waking her husband, but as her hands reached for him, his sleeping form moved away. The bed extended, the room got bigger, wider, darker, colder until it was just Lily and the shinning light floating in front of her.
"Lily... come with me..."
"Stop whatever you're doing! This is a dream... I'm dreaming. Stop this!"
"It will stop only after you've see what you must see. Come..."
In a dizzying moment, the bed vanished and she was in the air, high above the ground. She shrieked and reached out to grab the ball of light.
"Breathe..." the ghost said. "Breathe.."
Slowly, Lily realized she wasn't falling. She was floating. In fact, she had remarkable control of her body. A rising excitement was quickly drowned by fear. She turned to the glowing light.
"Am I dead?" Lily asked.
"No," the ghost said. "This is an alternate world, Lily. A far away world that could have been. A past that ceased to exist... because of you. A past that could have been if you stayed true to yourself."
The world below seemed like a scene out of medieval fantasy world. Taverns and horses and carts. Drunkards and merchants and travelers. The twilight sun was setting in the distance, and darkness was creeping over the horizon.
"Come, let me show you," the light said. "Here, no walls will stop you, no ears can hear you, no eyes can see you. Here, you're a ghost, Lily."
Ghost-Lily followed the light, floating down like two leaves in a snowy breeze, they descended toward one of the buildings.
"What is this place?" she asked.
Before the light could say anything, both of them passed through the wooden walls of the building as if they were passing through curtains, and Lily found herself in a wide courtyard. It was well-lit with torches, with some pockets of dimly-lit booths along the walls. The area looked busy, and yet didn't feel congested. People dressed in all manner were sitting in the booths, talking to women in sheer clothes and expensive jewelry. The women were leaning into their companions, wrapped around their arms, laughing and giggling, touching their chests and kissing at every chance they got. Some were feeding exotic fruits to their men with their fingers, others used their lips. Drinks were flowing freely from the glasses to one or two mouths before making its way down the throat. Soothing music permeated the air, along with a soft aroma that had a strange effect of easing one's inhibitions.
It was obvious where they were, but feigning innocence, ghost-Lily asked, "What is this place?"
"It was a whorehouse. And it could have been your home."
Ghost-Lily jerked her head as she looked at the light. "What!?"
"Watch..." the light said.
The front door opened and a group of men came through. Some young, some mature, some big and burly, some lean and athletic. Some hairy, some bald. But all of them with a smile on their face, leering at the women around them.In response, they got equally leering looks from the women, and waves and air-kisses.
The leader of the group came to stop in the center of the courtyard. He was tall and broad, his long hair was dark with streaks of grey in them. His blue eyes surveyed the area, and finally came to rest at the opposite end of the courtyard, where a woman came descending the stairs.
"Mom!" ghost-Lily blurted out.
The matriarch of the whorehouse was in her mid thirties. Tall, ample breasts, brown hair flowing down well beyond her shoulders. Like a queen, she gracefully walked down the stairs, with a smile that could disarm a thousand men. Her red dress had a deep plunge in the front, exposing a generous cleavage. The high slits on either side of her hips showed almost all of her legs as she walked, and made it clear she wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"Welcome to my house..." the matriarch said in a smooth, silky, breathy voice.
The leader gestured his hands towards his men behind him. "My men and I have traveled far. If you would, some pleasure and comfort for the night for all of us."
"Some comfort... I have that," the matriarch said, as she strutted her way past the leader and walked through the group. Here and there, she caressed a face and felt a chest. "And for you brave men, strong men..." she brushed her hand over one's breeches, feeling his cock jump, "...mmm and big men... I have plenty of pleasure."
The men responded with their lewd compliments and tried to grope her breasts or finger her clearly visible cameltoe, but the matriarch kept moving and was always a fingers breadth out of their grasps. The only thing they caught was her perfume which heightened their lust. Few more deep breaths of that and she would get ravaged by the group.
Of course, the matriarch would welcome such an outcome. But not tonight. Tonight, she had to oversee something special.
The matriarch walked her way back to the leader, giving a view of her backless dress that exposed all of her back and a hint of her ass cleavage. She stood next to the leader and grinned at her customers.
