Fifty Shades of Alice Through the Looking Glass (Second Book of the 50 Shades of Alice Trilogy)

by Melinda DuChamp

  “I can sort of see the repose action,” Alice said, squinting, “but I don’t understand the camel reference.”

  “It refers to the hump, dear,” said the White Queen. “There is also a two humped camel variation.”

  “Also forbidden,” the Red Queen snapped. “And look at this nasty one; The Leaky Faucet. Just look at that mess they’re making.”

  “Delightful,” the Red King said, though he said it in a very sad way.

  The Red Queen seemed not to hear her husband. “Check out this abomination, The Spinning Noodle. I don’t see how that is even possible unless both partners are double jointed.”

  Alice wasn’t sure it was possible either, but the explicit pictures were making her ache with desire. She wondered if it would be rude if she were to touch herself.

  “Show her Reverse Layup with Happy Ending,” suggested the Red King.

  “How about ER Visit?” suggested the White. “That one is quite a challenge.”

  “We should stop this,” said the Red Queen, her face getting brighter than her outfit. “I have not approved those positions. And fantasizing about them is off limits, too.”

  “Even fantasy is forbidden?” Alice asked. The Red Queen had mentioned that before, but Alice still found the idea shocking.

  “I have forbidden everything I am uncomfortable with or don’t understand,” said the Red Queen. “Tolerance is a slippery slope to debauchery. Why, we wouldn’t want people strutting about, making love in any perverted way they please, would we?” she asked the other royals.

  They grumbled a non-coherent reply.

  “Am I allowed to touch myself?” Alice asked, her fingers eagerly anticipating the answer.

  “Yes, of course you are,” the Red Queen said. “But only in bed at night, with all the lights out, and not for more than eight seconds.”

  “Eight seconds?” Alice said. “But, that’s not long enough!”

  “That’s all I need,” said the Red King, even though he was touching himself right that moment and had been doing so for far longer than eight seconds.

  Alice was just about to point that out, when the White Queen gasped.

  “Oh, my!” she said, walking to the window and peering outside. “Whatever shall we do?”

  The Red Queen’s attention snapped around. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

  “I think there’s a problem in the courtyard, Red Queen. I believe they are all too bored to continue making love.”

  “Take care of it.”

  “As you wish,” said the White Queen and peeled off her bra, unleashing a very attractive pair of breasts with long, erect nipples.

  “Not that way,” said the Red Queen. “You are far too much of a slut, White Queen. If it were up to you, all manner of fantasies and positions would be allowed, and then where would we be?”

  “Having fun?” muttered the Red King.

  “Tolerant of others?” whispered the White King.

  “Harrumph!” sputtered the Red Queen. “We need order in Looking Glass Land. Only with order can we have conformity, and conformity, as we all know, is the only path to happiness. I’ll have to take care of things myself.”

  And so she stormed out of the room, leaving Alice and the others with the book.

  The White Queen sidled up to Alice, her breasts still bare, one nipple brushing lightly against Alice’s. “While she’s gone, let us look at more of the fun positions.”

  She stared flipping through the book, while the kings ogled and stroked.

  “What’s that position called?” Alice asked, pointing.

  “Agonizing Cramps.”

  “And that one with the one man and two young women?”

  “Impending Divorce.”

  “What are those three people doing?”

  “Knot of Rectums.”

  “And that single man, in the corner?”

  “Frightened Virgin.”

  “What’s that one called, where she has her legs up over his shoulders and her arms behind her in a twist?”

  “Quadriplegia.”

  “How about this one, where he puts it in her bottom while hitting her in the back with a rotten fish and calling her vulgar names in French?”

  “Joyful Sunset.”

  “And that woman on her knees, surrounded by eight men touching themselves?”

  “Emergency Trip To The Hairdresser.”

  “How about that man who has two other men in his hands?”

  “Carpal Tunnel.”

  “That woman over there, eating pie?”

  “That’s an ad for Weight Watchers, dear.”

  “Oh. How about those five old men, with all the girls climbing on them?”

  “Aerosmith.”

  “There certainly are a lot of banned positions,” Alice said. “How about this girl held upside down on the table, all greased up with lard?”

  “Impending Lawsuit.”

  “The man who has the rope around his neck while he’s touching himself?”

  “Cautionary Tale. It’s also known as Dead on Arrival and Twitter Meme.”

  “How about that woman with her whole fist in her mouth?”

  “I have no idea,” said the White Queen. She turned to the White King. “Do you know the name of this position?”

  “Can’t say I do, but her boyfriend is one lucky bastard.”

  The White Queen turned to a new picture, a position like Alice had never imagined in her wildest dreams.

  “I can’t believe THAT!” said Alice.

  “Can’t you?” the White Queen said in a pitying tone. “Try again: draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.”

  Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one can’t make love in such an impossible position.”

  “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the White Queen. “When I was your age, I always did that for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I tried as many as six impossible sex positions before breakfast.”

  Alice studied the photo again. She’d have to think about that, and even as she did, standing there with the kings and queen, she could feel the ache between her legs grow stronger.

  “If I were you, dear, I’d get out of here while she’s gone.”

  Alice snapped out of her reverie. “Gone? Who?”

  “The Red Queen,” said the Red King.

  The White Queen nodded. “We’re having a swinging party, and you don’t want to be part.”

  “A swinging party?” Alice said. She glanced around the room but saw no swings. Perhaps they were in the garden. “I love parties.”

  “Not this one, you won’t,” said the White King with a sigh.

  “Why not? Are the swings outside?”

  “There are no swings, dear, although sex swings are delightful fun.”

  “Yes, they are,” said the Red King with a sigh.

  “How do you have a swinging party with no swings?”

  “A swinging party, my dear, is a party where couples gather and have sex with other couples.”

  Well Alice wasn’t a couple, not since she broke up with Lewis, but the idea of the swinging party sounded naughtily enchanting. “And I can’t join, because I’m not part of a couple?”

  “Oh, you can join,” said the Red King.

  “We’d love to have you join,” said the White King.

  “It would be wonderful to have you, my dear,” said the White Queen. “Attractive and charming women such as yourself are welcome at virtually any swinger’s party. You don’t need to be part of a couple.”

  “I find the three of you to be attractive and charming, too. So why shouldn’t I love this swinger’s party?”

  “Because my dear, at a swinger’s party on this side of the looking glass, we must all follow the Red Queen’s rules.”

  Alice pictured that for a moment. Missionary position. No fantasies allowed. “Oh, I see. But can’t we change the rules?”

  The White Queen slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid the rulin
g queen gets to set the rules for fantasy and sex on this side of the looking glass.”

  “Funny,” mused Alice. “On my side of the looking glass, fundamentalist religion does that. Although most people only pretend to be pious, so enforcing their rules is not all that successful most of the time.”

  “I say we all try to jump through the looking glass!” said the White King, throwing a fist in the air.

  “I say we get in a quickie before the Red Queen gets back,” said the Red King, rubbing his stiff member against Alice’s thigh and cupping one of her breasts and one of the White Queen’s in each hand.

  “What do you think we should do, Alice?” asked the White Queen.

  “Well,” Alice said, wrinkling her brow. “I don’t rightly know. Should I even have a say?”

  “Everyone should have a say,” said the White King.

  “But you are all royalty. I’m just plain, regular Alice.”

  “There’s only one answer to this problem,” the White Queen said.

  All three turned to look at her; Alice and the two kings.

  “Alice has to become a queen.”

  If there was something she could say that would have shocked Alice more, Alice didn’t know what it was. “A queen? Me?”

  “Certainly!” said the White Queen. “You’d make a fabulous queen.”

  “Yes, you would,” said the White King, lowering his head to suckle Alice’s nipple.

  “Yes, you would,” said the Red King, now behind her and probing between her legs with his rigid manhood.

  “Yes, you would,” said the White Queen, dropping down to her knees and preparing to lick between Alice’s thighs. “You just need to have an open mind.”

  “That’s all I need to become a queen?”

  The White Queen toyed with Alice, using the tip of her tongue. “That’s all you need.”

  “I daresay, you have the rest of the requirements already,” said the Red King, rubbing his hardness over her bottom and between her legs as if coating himself with her nectar.

  A thrill swept over Alice, the physical pleasure of three people making love to her, and the delight of imagining that she was a queen.

  She would have a crown, of course, or maybe a tiara of diamonds. And she would wear beautiful dresses and attend parties and everyone in her kingdom would adore her.

  “Please, can you take it in your hand?” the White King asked, stroking her fingers with his stiff rod.

  Alice was very anxious to be of use, so she gripped his member in her palm and started working up and down over his rigid length, soft skin and prominent ridge.

  “Oh, yes.”

  She felt a pressure behind at her opening, and tilted her bottom upward in response.

  The Red King’s fat member slid into the hungry wetness of her enchanted tunnel. He gripped her hips and delved deep, just like she’d done with the rabbit, just like she’d imagined a man doing when she was watching herself in the mirror.

  The White King took one of her nipples between his teeth, giving her a gentle nibble. He cupped both breasts in his hands, massaging and kneading and making Alice feel wonderfully thrilling sensations while he pumped his shank into her tight fist.

  “Your tits are so hot, Alice,” he said. “I want to spill my essence all over your nipples.”

  Alice had never heard of such a thing, but it sounded interesting all the same. Perhaps it was something reserved for royalty; something she could try once she’d opened her mind enough to become a royal herself. Maybe some of those pretty, queenly dresses she’d wear would be designed to leave her breasts bare, for just such an occasion.

  “The rest of you is hot too, Alice,” muttered the White Queen between licks, and her enthusiasm rippled through Alice in trembling waves.

  “I’ll say!” The Red King bellowed, taking another deep plunge. “Alice has the hottest box in Looking Glass Land!”

  Alice wasn’t sure if it was polite to say thank you to such compliments or not. But truly, the more the kings and queen licked her and teased her and explored her and thrust into her, the hotter she felt, and the more queenly.

  The White King had just started making loud grunting sounds and the Red King had just settled into a driving rhythm and the White Queen had just slathered Alice’s sex trigger with a good, fat lick of ecstasy when a voice cut the room.

  “This is NOT an approved position!”

  The White Queen fell back on her haunches. The Red King pulled out of Alice’s special place. The White King reluctantly gave her nipples one last tweak, and then they left Alice to face the Red Queen’s wrath.

  “Leave this party at once!” she shouted.

  Alice cowered away. “I’m so ever sorry, Your Highness.”

  “Don’t sorry me. I was going to invite you to our very proper party, only to discover that you—with those perky nipples and shaved special place—are a troublemaker. To the courtyard with you! There you will learn the simple joys of Missionary While Cross Stitching and Missionary With Eyes Closed Hoping It Ends Soon.”

  “But the mirror is my only way back home,” Alice said, backing up. Although if she was honest, she didn’t want to go home, not just that minute. She wanted The Red King to be thrusting inside her, and the White Queen to be licking her, and the White King to anoint her nipples with his essence. But of course, she couldn’t say any of that to the Red Queen.

  “To the courtyard, or I will have you arrested and taken to the HDO!”

  The two kings and the White Queen gasped in unison.

  Alice didn’t like the sound of that, whatever it was. So naked and aroused and totally unsatisfied, she dashed from the room.

  Chapter 2

  The Garden of Live Flowers

  Alice raced through the house, not wanting to be arrested. Not that she was all that excited about going to the courtyard where only the missionary position was allowed, but Alice feared what would happen if she disobeyed the fearsome Red Queen, whom Alice feared quite fearily. Fear fear fear!

  So for the courtyard she ran, seeing the patio door in the distance, and tripping over a book that had been placed conveniently in the middle of the floor for the purposes of this plot. Rubbing a stubbed toe, Alice picked up the doorstopper of a tome, cursing that the royals in this house still hadn’t adopted ebooks, which wouldn’t have stubbed her toe nearly as bad, or even at all. On the cover of the book was a strange word in a language Alice didn’t know.

  YKCOCREBBAJ

  She puzzled over this until she realized, “Duh! It’s a looking glass book! If I hold it up to a mirror, I can read it the right way!”

  But Alice didn’t even attempt it, because upon opening the book she saw lines of prose that looks suspiciously like quatrains and stanzas, which meant it was a book of poetry.

  Alice despised poetry. She found it to be the most self-indulgent, most useless, most boring type of art. She’d rather watch a meth-addled performance artist scream incoherently about Martians while throwing rotten eggs at the audience than read poetry. Especially old poetry, and the copyright on this book said 1871. That sealed the deal that she would never, never, never, no way, no how, read this poetry book, because everyone knows nothing worthwhile was written before 1970, which was when Judy Blume released Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. Everything prior to that was boring and stuffy and full of itself.

  “I’m not going to read this,” Alice said. “Never, never, never, no way, no how.”

  Then she opened it up and held it up to a mirror and began to read. After all, how was Alice supposed to open her mind, as the White Queen said, when she refused to even open a book?

  JABBERCOCKY

  ’Twas horcky in the HDO,

  Beased so long they mersycried,

  Empty was the bordello,

  Tolerance had up and died.

  Beware the Jabbercock, my girl!

  The pole that jabs the secret patch!

  Torment shall make her toesies curl,

  She was s
o shunned, they bandersnatch.

  A soul condemned to face the beast,

  By missionench, so crimson mean,

  But pleasure fiftyfold increased,

  Made her then the Golden Queen.

  The Jabbercock shall masturbate,

  Poor Golden Queen with fiendish chode,

  But she shall rise and liberate,

  And jabbing pole shall overload!

  One, two! One, two! And through and through

  Until the machilit the smoke,

  The souls condemned, they came and flew,

  While Golden Queen BJ’ed her bloke.

  Freedom rang in Kingdom high!

  Snowballing and hot bukkake!

  Gokkun, felching, and creampie!

  Queen shall wed the panty jockey!

  ’Twas horcky in the HDO,

  Beased so long they mersycried,

  Empty was the bordello,

  Tolerance had up and died.

  “Well,” Alice said. “That was awful.”

  She tossed the book aside. Not only did it make zero sense, with all of its made-up words, but there was a smarminess to it that reminded Alice of grammar school, being condescended to by an underpaid teacher’s aide who would have rather been travelling through Europe than dealing with children.

  “Knight!” The Red Queen screamed from the other room.

  Alice didn’t wait to hear the rest but ran out the patio door and onto a stone courtyard littered with small beds. On each of the beds, reclined a naked woman, and on top of each naked woman was a timidly thrusting man.

  Alice even recognized some of the positions from the Red Queen’s book. One couple doing missionary was doing it with their faces together: Missionary Touching Foreheads. The next were holding hands: Missionary With Hands Held. Another watched a TV show about a woman dying of cancer who was being stalked by her boyfriend after her daughter who needed a kidney transplant was kidnapped: Missionary While Watching Lifetime For Women.

  Alice stood and stared at the copulations for a few minutes, unsure what to do. It was a titillating scene, to be sure, and Alice felt like she should be aroused by it. After the Red King’s quick exit from her love cave, The White King’s final tweak of her nipples, and the White Queen’s forced abandonment of Alice’s pleasure folds, Alice was feeling rather lustful. Maybe as long as she watched the missionary position with its endless variety of arm raising and other nonsense, it would be within the rules for her to touch herself.