Hathor's Orchid

1

The Sprague Science Center was an unusual collection of architecture that had seen better days. The collection of artifacts had not been updated in over a decade, many of the interactive displays were worn out from overuse, and the café menu had not seen a new special since the late nineties. In daylight hours, it had the look of a strange international village. At night, it looked strangely eerie in the reflections of the nearby Colombia River. It was however, a large facility with a movie theater and a beautiful glass arboretum in the classic Victorian style. All of which needed to be watched over by security guards at all times.

Persephone Timmons was at five foot two, the shortest security officer on the payroll. Her athletic frame and highly active lifestyle did little to change the opinions of many of her fellow officers. The older generation thought she had no business in security and the officers her own age were far too busy trying to bed her to notice her work ethic. She took this job in order to attend school during the day and looked forward to her graduation day. Once she was done with school, she would put this place behind her and not look back.

She walked through a service door and made her way to the security office in the basement of the main building. She had to squeeze past boxes of lost and found items that had never been reclaimed that filled the hallway. Once in the security office proper, she took a set of keys off the wall and looked at the night shift roster posted on the door. There was a private party wrapping up tonight and most of the guests had already left for the evening. Normally she would be working with a pair of other officers, but one was on vacation and the other had come down with the flu. This meant after the swing shift departed for the night, she would be on her own for the next eight hours.

"Great, just great." Persephone groaned. "Just me to watch over a campus that covers nearly two city blocks."

She collected her flashlight and security jacket before nearly running into the swing shift supervisor. The rotund man of nearly sixty was one of the most unpleasant people Persephone had the displeasure of meeting. Phil Nunez, his hygiene was on par with his disposition and left much to be desired. He hacked and coughed for a few moments, not bothering to cover his mouth before leering at Persephone.

"Oh, the littlest security guard is back for another shift." He said as he stood blocking the doorway.

"Get out of my way Phil or we will have another talk with HR." she said with vehemence.

Phil cleared his throat nosily and coughed up something unpleasant.

"Sure, little miss, I will just sit down over here." Said Phil as he squeezed past her, much to everyone's discomfort. "Oh, before you go, the boss upstairs wants us to make three sweeps of that fancy greenhouse now." Said Phil as he unsnapped his utility belt. She nearly gagged at the close proximity but said nothing more. She did not want to egg him on to some act of further unpleasantness. She quickly left the office and walked briskly to the nearest stairwell; it was time to start another long night shift.

She exited the stairwell and found herself in the section of the Science Center devoted to Pacific Northwest History. She took a moment to admire the beautifully crafted Native American ceremonial masks kept in a special display. She was fascinated by the intricate details carved into the likeness of birds, whales, and other natural features. She thought this was her favorite exhibit in the whole campus and she made time to always visit the case of masks.

She meandered past the Hall of Industry with the interactive displays of hydroelectric dams and the Manhattan Project. Most had been broken from overuse but enough remained to amuse the younger visitors. The illuminated lights of a steam turbine cast a soft glow over the exhibit. She turned off screens that played archival footage of the building of the Grand Coulee Damn that buzzed a dated soundtrack from the eighties. For some reason, this side of the Sprague Science Center always smelled of ozone and machine oil. Satisfied that nothing else remained powered on, she stepped out into the main thoroughfare and continued her patrol. The next stop was the arboretum.

2

The arboretum was not an area she spent much time in. The glass structure housed many rare plants in the carefully climate-controlled facility. To prevent unnecessary contact, the previous security manager had simply said no one was to enter after hours, however, there was a new manager which meant new rules. Now every night, a security officer was to make three walk-throughs of the arboretum, no exceptions. Every exit checked; every fire extinguisher verified.

The large door had a simple card-reader and did not require any special keys. She waved her ID badge over the card-reader and the door clicked unlocked with a soft buzz. She hefted the door open and felt a warm, fragrant breeze from inside. The scent was that of earth, wet potting soil, and something that she could not quite put her mental finger on. It was a pleasant, organic smell that seemed to tease the tip of her nose.

She entered into a sea of greenery; trees and shrubs formed a canopy above the footpath. The bright lights from the ceiling above only barely filtered down through the greenery. She passed the displays of Venus Flytraps and Pitcher Plants that always seemed to fascinate kids and adults. She walked briskly away from a young Corpse Flower that was kept in an air-conditioned case of its own. There was a little vent that someone could lift and catch a whiff of the noxious plant. The odor was enough to send Phil Nunez scurrying for a shower.

As she was rounding the walked to her first stop in the giant greenhouse, she could not help but note that the strange smell was getting stronger. It was not unpleasant like the Corpse Flower, nor the artificial burnt smell of ozone, but something fragrant and organic. She thought it must have been a new flower of some sort and she wondered if she might see it on her patrol. As she pushed through a brace of low hanging palm fronds, she heard a soft tuneless humming coming from up ahead.

3

Hunched over a mound of soil and wielding a trowel, a woman hummed a tune as she labored over a freshly plotted display. She wore a white gown that was spotted with earth and hung loosely over her shoulders. From time to time, one side would slip, and she would reach up and adjust it without breaking her concentration.

"Excuse me miss, we are closed for the night. What may I ask are you doing here?" asked Persephone in her professional tone.

The woman started in alarm and whirled to face the diminutive security guard. As she stood up, Persephone could not help but notice the woman was strikingly beautiful. Long dark hair, pale skin, and full-figured, she was also much taller than Persephone. This woman must have been at least six foot-four and simply towered over her own five foot-two. Persephone suddenly felt small indeed before this stunning woman with a face that reminded her of the porcelain angels she had seen in nativity displays.

"Terribly sorry dear, you gave me such a fright." Said the woman.

"I-I-I'm sorry, I did not think anyone was here after hours." Stammered a suddenly nervous Persephone.

"I can see from your attire you are the night shift guard. Don't worry, my name is Ms. Hathaway, and I am the night gardener."

"Your name was not on tonight's roster." Said Persephone.

"That must be Mr. Thornton's doing. He never seems to remember I come in once a month for many special specimens we have on display. I will send him a note in the morning."

"I see." Said Persephone. The strange smell seemed to be getting stronger and she felt lightheaded and more than a little dizzy. "If you are supposed to be here, I guess I will leave you be."

"Oh, must you go? It does get rather lonely tending to these Brugmansia and Moonflowers without anyone to talk to."

Persephone swayed a little under the heady scent and realized she needed to sit down badly. Her feet had begun to hurt from the walking and the bench seemed so inviting all the sudden after all.

"Well, just for a few minutes. What sort of flowers are these?" asked the security guard as she sat down heavily on the bench.

"Well, here I have the tender perennials and Gardenia Augusta. Over here I have the Queen of the Night and the White Datura." Said Ms. Hathaway as she gestured to the different plots. "All of these exclusively bloom at night and require a great deal of care."

"What about that one over there?" asked Persephone as she pointed to a beautiful bloom of purple and gold petals.

"Oh, that is a rather special specimen. It is called Hathor's Orchid and it only blooms once every two years. You are incredibly lucky to see it in bloom tonight."

As Persephone sat and gazed at the rare flower with its unique patterns of purple and gold, she felt a spreading warmth from the tip of her toes to the ends of her ponytail. She felt relaxed and at ease with this lovely woman. While she considered herself comfortably heterosexual, she could not help but admire Ms. Hathaway's figure and impressive bust. Her loose gown was made of thin material that left little to the imagination and Persephone could not help but notice she was not wearing a bra.

"Are you all right dear?" asked Ms. Hathaway, her voice radiating maternal concern.

"Sorry, I was admiring your dress. It doesn't look to be appropriate to wear in a museum." Said Persephone.

"Well, working in a green house like this one is warm work, I find this to be much more comfortable if a bit revealing. Why? Do I look ugly?" Said Ms. Hathaway, suddenly defensive.

"Oh god no! I just worry that someone in the museum hierarchy will take issue. I think you are just gorgeous." Persephone gushed. She realized Ms. Hathaway was grinning mischievously.

"Oh, I know dear. If Mr. Thorton were to see me dressed like this, I am sure the shock would kill him like a bolt from the blue." She giggled. Persephone found herself grinning like a schoolgirl; she felt warm and dizzy, almost like she was back to her twenty-first birthday. Her head was buzzing and sweat was starting to form on her brow.

"It smells...different from the other flowers in your collection." Said Persephone as she gazed at the orchid.

"Ancient Egyptians used the pollen in fertility rites. I'm told it was used as an aphrodisiac among the queens and high born members of the Pharaoh's court." Said Ms. Hathaway. The gardener's expression changed to one of concern.

"You look like you are about to topple over. Why don't you lie down next to me in the grass?" said Ms. Hathaway. She stood up and gently took Persephone by the arm and led her to a patch of open grass. It was just as well, Persephone felt giddy and was glad for the assistance. Ms. Hathaway stepped gingerly over the "Keep off the Grass" sign and stretched out. Persephone felt a rush of sudden vertigo. She tripped over the sign and went tumbling into the outstretched arms of the gardener.

"Sorry, I am not usually so clumsy." Apologized Persephone still cocooned in the strong arms that were wrapped around her. That peculiar scent was stronger now and she realized it was the woman's perfume.

"Why don't you lay your head down in my lap, dear. You look flushed and feverish."

"Sure, that would be nice." Said the diminutive security guard. Without thinking, she unsnapped her utility belt and set it aside. She had a hard time thinking straight and struggled with her collar of her uniform shirt.

"Oh, it's just us women, why don't you take that off? I can't imagine all this heat and humidity could be good for you in your current state."

In her foggy thoughts, she could not see anything wrong with the suggestion. She was wearing a sports bra underneath that concealed her more feminine features. She reached up to undo the buttons but found her fingers did not want to cooperate. Deftly, Ms. Hathaway reached up and gently undid each button before helping Persephone out of her uniform shirt. Grateful, Persephone laid her down in the tall woman's lap. She felt suddenly exhausted by the effort and was glad for the comfortable place to lay down.

As she lay in the grass, she felt a hand softly stroke her right shoulder, following the twists and patterns of her tattoos. She had a full sleeve of ink on her right shoulder and an unfinished work on her left. Persephone was proud of her tattoos as she had designed them herself. She smiled at the casual contact and let out a contented sigh as she closed her eyes for just a moment.

"Tell me about yourself, Persephone." Said Ms. Hathaway.

She did. She described her goal of becoming a nutritionist. How she grew up in a small town in North Dakota with a single dad. How she grew up without a mother.

"Oh, dear one, I am so sorry." She said with genuine sympathy. "To be without a mother is a tragedy."

"I did okay, my father did the best he could." Said Persephone defensively.

"Oh, I am sure he is a fine man to have raised a daughter like you, but there are some things that only a woman can teach." Said Miss Hathaway as she continued to stroke and caress.

"There is a connection that all mothers have with their daughters. It starts the day they are born and it is the most sacred of connections. I am so sorry you were denied this, my dear." She continued. "From the moment you enter this world, your mother provides care, nurturing, and support. Most important, a place to lay down your burdens and seek the love you crave."

Persephone felt her eyes prickle with tears, her heart heavy with mourning for loss of the woman who gave birth to her. She began to weep softly and Miss Hathaway with her angelic face gave a warm smile and held the young woman.

"Shh, Shhh, let it out my dear. You are a beautiful and strong young woman." She said as she began to kiss the tears away. Her lips were soft and inviting, Persephone realized. She felt her body respond, her lips meeting Miss Hathaway's a moment later. She felt a hand that was not her own cupping her breast, a thumb brushing her nipple through her sports bra. Felt a tongue drifting over her own and felt a rising warmth from below her belly.

"Would you like to experience a connection with me, Persephone?" asked Miss Hathaway huskily. Her expression one mixed of maternal instinct and desire. She undid her loose fitting blouse, freeing her ample breasts, massaging her chest lasciviously for a moment.

In a haze of lust and need, Persephone nodded, unable to speak. She opened her mouth in an effort to say something, when Miss Hathaway guided the young woman's mouth to her left breast. She felt the hand on the back of her head massage and caress her as she began to suckle. She felt Miss Hathaway's hand gentle move her head in a hypnotic, bobbing rhythm as her tongue played with nipple in her mouth.

"That's a good girl. Drink of me and all will be well." Miss Hathaway cooed.

As if on cue, milk began to flow into Persephone's mouth, the sweet cream overwhelming her senses. She could feel heat rising from her loins and she reached down and unzipped the fly. As she continued to suckle, the growing need and desire became too much. She plunged her fingers between her legs and massaged her sacred place. The sensations of warmth and pleasure filled her mind and she began to suckle more aggressively, her tongue darting and flicking the nipple in her mouth.

She was lost in a haze of lust and desire. Her work and responsibilities forgotten, all that her mind could focus on was pleasure. She felt Ms. Hathaway's fingers trace lines down her forearm, felt hands run down her thigh and tease around her mons. Molten pleasure dripped from between Persephone's legs and into the grass. A great wave building in her center, the finger now inside her and stimulating her pleasure zones. She moaned in ecstasy into Ms. Hathaway's breast, sweat beading at her forehead. She was entirely enthralled in the older woman's hands.

Ms. Hathaway's expert hands applied another finger and Persephone gave a convulsive shudder as the powerful orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave. She quaked, shook, and shivered. Her mind going blank, her eyes a riot of color and images. Gilded columns. Gold Bracelets. A vast crowd of worshippers all chanting the name of the Goddess. All looked upon the beautiful face of an angel carved in stone and yet somehow full of life and promise.

4

Hathor/Hathaway looked down at her new disciple and smiled. The conversion process was complete. Her newest supplicant enraptured at her serene beauty, her lips still wrapped around her breast. Already her own breasts were swelling and figure filling in as deserving of a priestess of fertility and harvest. Reaching down, she patted the young woman on her head and indicated she should rise. Persephone raised herself into a kneeling position before Hathor/Hathaway, her head bowed.

"How may I serve goddess?" asked Persephone in a toneless voice.

"Praise your goddess with your lips and tongue, my priestess." Ordered Hathor/Hathaway. The goddess parted her legs and revealed her fertile garden to the diminutive young woman. Eagerly, she inclined her head and began licking the woman's labia. The aroma and flavor overwhelmed an already entranced Persephone and she eagerly licked and sucked, trying to draw in the essence of her mistress.

Soon Hathor/Hathaway gave a shudder, her legs locking around Persephone's head, holding her in place. She rhythmically rocked her hips as she closed her eyes and muttered words of forgotten magics. Persephone felt a great upheaval and then all went dark.

5

Persephone awoke to find herself alone and naked, her clothing discarded in a pile nearby. She tried to put them on quickly but found everything fit too tightly. Her shirt pressed into her chest uncomfortably and her pants seemed a few sizes too small. She tried to recall what had happened but found her memory was blank.

"I must have sat down for a moment and fallen asleep." She said aloud to no one in particular. She struggled to put her boots back on and reattached her utility belt, adjusting it several times to fit around her waist. She noticed her skin was much more pale than she recalled and her chest seemed to have swelled at least three or four cup sizes.

"What on earth?" she thought as she made her way through the shrubbery and back onto the footpath. Leaving the arboretum, she returned to the security office where she could write up night's activity. She tried to check the cameras inside the Victorian-style glass building, but there was no sign of her once she entered through the main doors.

Not wanting to create more trouble, she neglected to write about the time she lost inside the arboretum. Instead, she simply stated the routine happenings at the Sprague Science Center before returning her keys and radio. As she walked out of the office, she noticed one of the Guest Services workers had arrived. The mousy young woman moved in quick nervous steps. The poor woman suffering from perpetual anxiety, she rarely made conversation with anyone in the Science Center. Until today.

She seemed to sniff the air for a moment before her expression seemed to soften slightly. Persephone could see her eyes had slightly dilated and she seemed a little unsteady.

"I'm sorry, I was curious, what is that perfume you are wearing?"

"Hathor's Passion, I keep a little in my locker. Would you care to try a sample?" asked Persephone. Her smile warm and angelic. Another priestess for the goddess.

The End....for Now.