Fifty Shades of Alice in Wonderland (9 page)

When she’d recovered enough to think, Alice peered up at the Hare. With her bottom claimed by Dor, and her womanhood overflowing with the Hatter, there was obviously only one game left to play. She opened her mouth wide, trying to get him to understand.

“You want to play dentist?” the Hare said. “I’m to examine your teeth?”

The rhythm continued. Back and forth and back and forth until Alice felt she was going to lose her mind.

“My… my… my rules,” Alice said, struggling mightily to get the words out. “You have to… put it… in my mouth.”

“
It
?” he said.

“Your…”

“My?”

The Hatter did something with his fingers again, and Alice screamed so loud the dog ran and hid under the porch.

“Your… man part.”

“Which part?” He frowned, still not following.

“Your…” she ogled his sweet, curved shaft, hoping he’d follow her meaning.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

The Hatter’s thrust and Dor’s parry grew faster, and Alice could feel another orgasm roaring up fast as a freight train.

“Your cock! Your cock!” she cried.

And the other two stopped.

“Please, keep going,” Alice begged frantically, bucking against them and sending her breasts bouncing.

“That was the safeword,” said the Hatter.

Of course it was, and she’d forgotten. But she didn’t want to be safe now. She wanted to be totally filled by all three men. She wanted them to send her over the edge and then go over along with her. “I’m… I’m being bold and changing the rules,” she gasped. “Can I do that?”

“You can do anything you want,” said the Hatter. “All you have to do is figure out what it is.”

Alice didn’t have to think about that, not right now, which was probably good, because she was beyond thinking. “I want three cocks inside me right now.”

“But wait,” said the Hare.

Alice stared at him. “
Wait?
”

“What’s a tea party without tea bagging?”

She was almost frantic, wanting him in her, needing him. “Why are you talking about tea bags? I want your cock in my mouth.”

“I’ll show you.” He took hold of his manhood and lifted it, then he straddled her hear and lowered his other parts—his balls—down to her lips.

Immediately understanding his odd request, Alice opened her mouth and took them inside. And although she still didn’t see what this had to do with making tea, she sucked and she rolled until he tensed up with a groan. Then he plunged his cock between her lips as the other two rocked her, and an orgasm crashed through Alice so fierce she was sure she’d become as mad as they were. It was followed by another, and another.

“I’m coming,” cried Dor.

“Almost there,” moaned the Hatter.

Alice sucked the Hare harder, hoping to make him climax at the same time. And then Dor cried out, his hips spasming, and the Hatter bellowed deep, pressing his cheek into Alice’s chest and holding her tight as he shuddered, and the Hare’s hot essence shot into her mouth and dribbled down her chin, and Alice literally exploded with pleasure.

Okay… Alice didn’t really
literally
explode. But it was pretty damn epic.

Their energies spent, the Hatter helped her up off the sex chair.

“I have to buy one of those,” Alice said, blowing out a huge breath and eyeing the chair.

“Amazon.com,” said the Hare. “They sell everything, and have the best prices.”

Dor began to snore.

“Does he always sleep so much?” Alice asked. She felt lovely and content and a little sore, and just about ready to curl up and go to sleep right beside him.

“He can’t sleep for long. He’s invited to play croquet with the Queen.”

“Were you two invited?” Alice asked, looking from the Hatter to the Hare.

“Of course we were,” said the Hare. “Weren’t you?”

“She must be,” said the Hatter. “Why wouldn’t a beautiful and sexy woman like Alice not get an invitation?”

And although Alice was embarrassed, she had to shake her head. “I have no invitation.”

The Hatter frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe you should look inside you.”

Alice frowned. “What do you mean? Search my soul and see if I deserve to go?”

“No,” the Hatter said, pointing to her nether-regions. “I mean
inside
you.”

Alice stared down between her hairless legs. “There’s a croquet invitation in
there
?”

“Check and see.”

Alice reached a hand down there, then hesitated. She
never
touched that part of her. And had certainly never reached inside. Squeezing her eyes shut, hating every moment, the put a single finger in and moved it around.

“There’s nothing,” she lamented.

“Go deeper.”

Alice did.

“Deeper.”

“There’s nothing,” she yelled, pulling out her hand in anger and humiliation.

“Of course there is nothing,” the Hatter said. “Who ever heard of such a ridiculous thing?”

“So why did you make me do it?” Alice demanded.

“Because it was really hot,” he answered.

The Hare nodded in agreement.

The Duchess was right. Men were pigs.

“Well, I have to get dressed,” the Hatter said. “I can’t play croquet like this. It would cause a scandal.”

The Hare nodded. “And sunburn.”

And as they dressed, the Hatter in his suit and the Hare in his costume, Alice again felt self-conscious about her nudity. “What about me? I have no clothes.”

“You have boots,” the Hatter said, studying her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, his manhood started to grow again. “And they make your legs and bottom look stupendous.”

“I have something for you to wear,” said the March Hare. And he reached into the discarded furry pants of his costume and pulled out a leather bra. “Put this on.”

Grateful to finally have something that covered her breasts, Alice slipped the bra on. But though the leather contraption fit her perfectly, it was like no bra she’d ever worn before. Made of leather straps and silver buckles, the apparatus surrounded each of her breasts, hefting them high. But it left most of her fleshy mounds totally bare, her nipples protruding luridly in front of her.

“I can’t wear this,” she said.

The Hare made a face. “Of course you can. Look in the mirror. You’re wearing it right now.

“But it doesn’t even cover my nipples.”

“Your nipples are delicious, Alice,” said the Hatter. “Why ever would you cover them? They should be seen and tasted and suckled by the world. But…”

“But what?”

“You’re right. The look isn’t quite complete.” And so he took off his leather motorcycle cap and plopped it on her head. “There, that’s perfect. We’ll see you there. Just walk through that hedge.”

“Don’t be late,” added the Hare, and the two of them walked away to the house and left her.

Alice looked down at sleeping Dorian Maus, then shrugged. It had been the loveliest tea party she’d ever attended, but now that it was over, what was there to do but continue on her way?

Alice wasn’t sure what croquet was, because she lived in modern day America and not nineteenth century England. She had never seen croquet on YouTube (though one of her favorites was that adorable little baby panda sneezing), and the sad fact is that most teenagers are, by their nature, rather dense, and Alice was no exception. She thought it may have something to do with knitting, recalling that she once received a terrible birthday gift from one of her elderly aunts, who had croqueted a sweater.

But she had never met a queen before (other than a rather flamboyant boy in her science class who painted his nails pink and called everyone
girlfriend
) so Alice was both excited by the prospect and a little nervous. If anyone knew how Alice could get back home, it was probably a queen.

She walked through the hedge, as instructed, and it lead to a clearing with a green, lush, carefully maintained lawn hemmed in by bushes trimmed in the shape of playing cards. Her spiky heels dug into the sod, making walking awkward, but anyone watching would have agreed that her legs and bottom looked awesome. However, no one was watching, which suited Alice fine. Even though she’d been naked for what felt like forever, she still hadn’t gotten used to it, and every time she met someone new it was embarrassment and humiliation all over again. Alice once heard it said that more people were afraid of speaking in public than dying. She understood completely. But there was one thing worse than public speaking; public speaking while all of your private parts were showing.

Sounds of conversation and laughter broke through the bushes, and Alice followed them until she reached a crowd of people. Considering all the weirdoes she’d recently met, these people were dressed more or less normally. Alice had heard it called business casual. No ties or suits, but the men wore pleated pants and long sleeved shirts, and the women wore fashionable skirts and tops. It made the ridiculous outfit Alice was wearing even more outrageous.

She hobbled up to the group, which seemed to be circled around four people hitting colored balls across the lawn with large, wooden mallets.

So that’s croquet,
Alice thought.
How ridiculous. Haven’t these people heard of PlayStation?

Three of the players were men, but one was a woman. She was tall, in a red dress that clung to her every curve, and she wore red boots that had heels just like Alice’s. Her hair was deep red, pulled back in a severe bun, and her bright red lips formed a heart when she pouted, which at the moment she was doing. Alice immediately knew this must be the queen. The woman radiated power, and authority in a way Alice had never known, and everyone buzzed and flocked around her as if she was the center of the universe, some people looking timid and frightened, some looking infatuated.

Also, she wore a gold crown, which kind of made it obvious.

“Has anyone seen where my red ball went?” the Queen demanded, hands on her hips.

There was shrugging from the three men she played with, and intense murmurs from the crowd of a dozen.

“If that ball isn’t found immediately,” the Queen said, “you shall all be publicly paddled!”

Alice couldn’t think of anything worse than that, and apparently everyone agreed, because the next few seconds were a frenzy of frantic searching, everyone climbing all over one another to find the Queen’s ball. Alice was pushed, bumped, and shoved, and she wound up flung into a hedge and on all fours. And there, under the hedge, was the red croquet ball.

Alice snatched it and stood, holding it triumphantly over her head.

“I found it! I found it, Your Majesty!”

All at once the crowd went silent and still. They parted, forming a circle around Alice and staring intently as the Queen approached. Alice inwardly shrank, placing an arm across her bare nipples, lowering the hand with the ball to shield her naked loins. A blush crept up her cheeks, getting worse as the crowd began to whisper and point at her.

“And who are you?” the Queen said, her voice loud and mean.

“I’m Alice. I found your ball.”

Alice held it out, meekly. The Queen slapped it away, and it went rolling under another hedge.

“You shall not speak unless spoken to,” the Queen said.

“But you just spoke to me.”

“Silence!” the Queen ordered, pointing a finger at Alice’s face. The Queen’s nails were glossy and red. “This croquet party is private and can only be attended if you have an invitation. Do you have an invitation, Alice?”

Alice wasn’t sure whether or not to answer. She didn’t like being yelled at. It added to the humiliation of being naked in public. She wished, more than anything, to just disappear.

“You refuse to answer?” the Queen asked. “So be it. Guards! Off with her clothes!”

One of the men in the Queen’s croquet game, a man in khakis and a polo shirt, approached Alice and grabbed her arm. “My Queen,” he said, “she doesn’t seem to be wearing much in the way of clothes.”

“Is that so?” the Queen asked.

“Just a hat, boots, a garter belt, stockings, and a demi bra, Your Majesty.”

“So it seems. Tell me, why are you dressed that way, slut?!”

Alice was shocked by the vulgarity. “I’m not a slut!”

“You are certainly dressed like one,” the Queen said.

“But these are the only clothes I have!”

“The only clothes you have? If those are your only clothes, then you must be a slut!”

“But I’m not!”

“Seize the slut!”

The next thing Alice knew, guards were holding both of her arms, stretching her out so she could no longer cover her body. The Queen approached, then spent a moment looking Alice up and down. Her gaze felt like a laser, burning Alice’s skin wherever it focused.

“Everyone, look at Alice’s bare breasts,” the Queen said.

The crowd came in for a closer look. Alice struggled, but was held firm, exposed to all.

The Queen reached out, pinching both nipples. “See how her nipples are erect?” the Queen said. “Who but a slut would have erect nipples at a croquet game?”

More murmurs, many people agreeing. “Yes, she does.” “Those nipples are certainly hard.” “Only sluts get horny playing croquet.”

“But you just pinched them!” Alice said.

“And look at these boots!” the Queen said. “Thigh-high leather with spiked heels! Who but a slut would wear spike heeled boots to a croquet game?”

Again the crowd mumbled in agreement.

“But you’re wearing spike heeled boots!” Alice cried.

“Mine are red,” said the Queen.

“What is the difference?” Alice said.

“More proof!” triumphed the Queen. “Who but an oversexed slut couldn’t tell the difference between black and red?”

“I swear, I’m not a slut!” Alice declared.

“Oh, really?” the Queen asked, smiling. She glanced down, below Alice’s belly. “You have no hair down there. Who else but a slut shaves off all of her hair?”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Of course it is you. I’m looking right at it.”

The Queen ran her hand down Alice’s belly, between her legs.

“So smooth,” the Queen said, gently working a finger inside of Alice.