No fucking way.
He had the tweezer clamps that came off my body.
Chapter Six
Friday. 9:00 p.m.
I was dressed in my school girl outfit, complete with platform Mary-Jane shoes, standing on the sidewalk just outside my fake dorm, waiting. I’d attached the antique silver key to the slave collar around my neck. It dangled down into the hallow of my throat. It was my entry into Wonderland, so it was staying with me.
A dark black Mercedes with black tinted windows rounded the corner. I assumed this was my ride. My assumptions were confirmed when the gorgeous vehicle pulled up at the curb where I stood, and came to a stop. An extremely tall gentleman, with mocha skin, wearing a pitch black suit and long dreadlocks, exited the car.
“Alice,” he said. His accent sounded Jamaican. “I have come for you at the request of Master Hatter.” He opened the back door and extended out his hand toward me. I took it. He helped me into the car, closed my door, and procured his spot in the driver’s seat. Over the stereo, Breath Control by Recoil blared. “You will notice a trinket beside you.”
“Let me guess. I must put it on,” I said.
“Yes,” he said.
I picked up the mask. It was made of black satin. I rubbed my fingers over the material then placed it over my eyes before I tied it off behind my head. Once it was in place, I felt the movement of the car.
“So, I suppose you won’t be telling me where we are going?”
“Relax, Alice. Master Hatter wouldn’t allow any harm to befall you.”
I can’t really be sure how long we drove, but it had to be at least thirty to forty-five minutes before the car stopped. The door opened, someone took my hand, and led me the rest of the way. I know I heard at least two steel doors open and shut. Whoever assisted me stopped. Let go of my hand, and removed the mask from my face. It took me a moment for my eyes to adjust. The room I was in looked industrial. Dim red lights flashed on the walls. In front of me was an elevator. Above it a sign hung carved out of a piece of wood. “Rabbit Hole.” I glanced around. No one but me occupied the space. Black curtains hung from the ceiling to the floor behind me. My choices were to turn around and find my way out, or enter the rabbit hole and take a ride.
I pushed the only button on the wall next to the elevator. The steel doors opened. I stepped inside. The walls, ceiling, and floor were black. The overhead light flickered and changed to a black light. Someone had written on the walls. The neon scribbles appeared bright on the black backdrop. I read, “Going Down.” This was written over, and over. I glanced at the wall in front of me. No buttons to push. The elevator automatically lowered.
After a couple of minutes, the elevator stopped. The doors opened, and I stepped out. Laser lights flashed and flickered. It had a psychedelic feel. Music bumped, sending a vibration over me. I saw a bar located in the middle of the large space. I’d head that way. I passed several women pole dancing. A short, stubby, man with a slave collar, being led by an almost freakishly tall woman. She was dressed normally, in every day clothes you would see someone wear on the street. Her slave was dressed in full black leather. She tugged at the chain connected to his collar. He sat down.
I took a few more steps forward, trying to take it all in. Smoke drifted across me. I coughed, and swiped my hand to fan the smoke from my face. To my right, a man, naked and covered in neon green, yellow, and orange body paint, sat on a mushroom chair, puffing on a hookah. He waved. Wanting me to come over. I figured, why not. My journey to Wonderland had been strange already, so what did this guy have to offer?
“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice,” he said in a gruff, raspy voice. “Master Hatter awaits your arrival.” He motioned with his head to the left. I turned to see the man in the white suit from the library business meeting, only this time he was dressed in a slick shinny white rubber bodysuit. It adhered to his frame like a glove, and covered his entire body, feet and hands. The only thing not covered was his head. If it was real, and not done for show, Mr. White had a loaded package going on beneath that suit.
“Follow me,” he said. I’d come too far to back down now, so I followed him.
We walked past people dancing, some seriously making out and grinding up against each other, and a woman who was bound and gagged. The rope work on her body was so intricate that it reminded me of artwork.
“Watch your step,” Mr. White said to me. We made our way down a small flight of stairs. At the end was a door. “You will need to use your key, Alice.”
I removed the key from the metal loop on my collar, placed it into the lock on the door, and heard the click when it unlocked. I re-hooked the key to my neck adornment, turned the knob, and opened the door. Mr. White had gone back the way we came.
“Come in, Alice. I’ve been expecting you,” a deep voice called out. It was the Hatter.
I entered the room, shut the door, and glanced around. I didn’t see anyone. The room was lit with hundreds of candles. The walls covered in deep purple, what looked like, velvet material. In the middle of the room was a purple round upholstered, for a lack of a better word, bed. There were mirrors on the ceiling, anchors on the back wall, and on the floor around the bed. I supposed these were used to tie and strap people down.
On the wall opposite the bed, were an array of whips, ropes, chains, paddles, and cuffs. In the corner sat something reminiscent of a medieval torture device. Sitting next to it was some kind of a strappy swing.
“Remove your clothing,” Master Hatter said from somewhere behind me.
I turned around, but he wasn’t there.
“Where are you?”
“Alice,” he said sternly. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “Do as I instruct.”
I tugged the pink half shirt up and over my head. My pony tails bobbed, being disturbed by the removal.
“Let your hair down, Alice.”
I reached up and took the rubber bands out of my hair. Combed my fingers through the strands to straighten them out some.
“Good. Now the bra and the skirt,” he said.
I slipped the straps off my shoulders, reached behind me, and un-did the clasps. I let the push up bra fall to the floor. A spike of heat rushed my body. Part of me liked this. The mystery, the taboo of it all, being told what to do, and giving someone else control. But I was here to do a job. I couldn’t forget that.
“The skirt,” Master Hatter reminded.
I unzipped the side zipper on the school girl skirt. It shimmied down to me feet. I stepped out of it.
“Leave the panties, the stockings, and the shoes,” he said. “Remove the collar and place it on the table to your right, then go over to the bed, lie on your back, and close your eyes.”
I unbuckled the collar around my neck. Placed it on the table. “The key?”
“You need not worry your pretty little head about the key, Alice.”
I walked to the bed. Sat down. Took a breath, then lifted my legs up, and laid down. I saw my reflection above me. Blonde hair splayed out on the pop of dark purple beneath me. Nipples hard, tight, and pink. My body pale. White lace bikini panties. Lacy thigh high stockings, and black platform Mary-Jane shoes. I took in the whole picture then closed my eyes. I noticed how quite this room was. I wondered if it were sound proof. The club wasn’t that far away, and the music was booming, yet I heard nothing until the footsteps started.
“I am going to place something around your eyes,” Master Hatter explained. “Do not be frightened, and lift your head.” He tied something soft around my eyes. “If at any time you feel you cannot continue, you are to say ‘red.’ When I hear you say that word, I will stop. What are you to do, Alice, if you feel you cannot continue?”
“Say, ‘red.’”
“Yes. ‘Red’ is your safe word.”
“All right, Master.”
“Very good, little Alice. Now, I am going to attach some thigh cuffs. The cuffs are lined, and will not harm you, but you will be bound. Do you agree to this?”
I nodded. “Then let us continue our journey.”
The metal clank of what I imagined were buckles rang out. Something wrapped around my upper right thigh. Then my upper left thigh. Master Hatter took my hands, and attached soft cuffs around each wrist. Hooked them in some way to the thigh cuffs. He lifted my arms some. My legs spread. It was quiet for a moment. Music started. In the background I heard things being moved or adjusted.
What happened next can only be described as an erotic flogging. Multiple straps splayed across my navel, my sides. There was softness, along with a slight sting to the blows. My body jumped, startled at the barrage to my flesh. The onslaught continued across my breasts. Splattered across my arms. Bombarded down my thighs and calves. But when the lashes landed on the lace covered section of my crotch, the building sensations of bliss took on a life of their own.
“Oh, God,” I mumbled.
“Little Alice likes that,” the Hatter said.
Swat.
Another direct hit to my pussy. I writhed. Squirmed. Over and over he tantalized my body until I heard myself begging.
“Please,” I said. “I need—”
“I know what you need.”
Something buzzed. The sound came closer. Then I felt it. Bull’s-eye. The buzzing equipment was laid then pressed onto my panties. The sensations running across my lower lips and tip of my clit were incredible. The tool jiggled, vibrated, with the pressure tight against my body. I lost all composure.
“Oh, shit!” I exclaimed. He didn’t relent. “I’m-I’m-cumming!”
My body shook. Wrenched within the restraints. My pussy vibrated not only on its own, but pulsated due to the machine while I climaxed. nonetheless, he didn’t take a softer line. He pressed even harder. My panties had to be sopping wet. The apparatus went faster. Rattled up and down, all the while being pushed against me.
“Cum for me,” Master Hatter said.
“Oh…”
I came over and over, shaking and writhing. Unable to stop the experience, but I didn’t want to stop. My body seemed electrified. Alive. He sucked on a nipple, pulling it with his teeth while I came yet again. I became one long prolonged orgasm. One climax running into the other.
When the tears streamed down my face, the instrument moved from my body. They were tears of ecstasy. Tears of exhaustion. The buzzing device went quiet.
“Until next time, little Alice,” he said. “Feel free to enjoy the club, wander about freely. When you are ready to go, let Chester know. You met him as you came in. He was the man you spoke to, covered in body paint. Chester will inform your driver to take you home.”
“Will I see you again?” The question came out on tremulous lips. Then I thought about what I asked. Strange choice of words since I’ve never really seen him.
“Oh, yes. I will text you the location of our next encounter.” The Hatter lightly kissed my lips. I wanted more, but he was in control in his world. “I will remove the restraints. You are to wait until the music stops then you can remove the blindfold around your eyes, get dressed, and mingle within the club. Good night, little Alice, and Welcome to Wonderland.”
While I was tired, there was also an exhilaration skipping through me. The Hatter had done things to my body that I would never forget, but I needed to put the pleasure aside. I’d gained free reign in Wonderland, so it was time to find the answers to this secrets behind the club.
Once the music stopped, I loosened the blindfold. Pulled it off. The room was still flickering in candle light. I blinked a couple of times. Stretched. Threw my legs over the side of the bed, and stood. They felt like Jell-O, all wiggly for a moment. I took in a deep breath, and got dressed. I noticed there were two doors in the room. The one I came in and another not too far away from the entry door. I walked over, rattled the knob. It was locked. I glanced around to room. No other doors. No windows.
I left Master Hatter’s lair the way I came in. I wandered through the club. There were numerous doors that led to different rooms. I tried to check out a few, only to find many of them occupied. Like the restroom on a flight, these doors were rigged up the same. Once inside the room, you’d lock the door and the word occupied shown next to the knob in the chrome box facing the entry side. I had no choice. The main club would be my focus.
I took a seat at the bar, ordered a rum and Coke, and tried to pay for my drink. The man behind the bar said it was taken care of by Master Hatter. I said, “Tell Master Hatter thanks.” The tender nodded. Once I had my drink in hand, I sat and observed. Mr. White was donning a full white rubber hood to match is bodysuit. His mouth, eyes, and nose were the only thing showing on his body. He was at the end of the bar, talking to a woman dressed in a tight red dress. I sipped on my drink, was able to ask the bartender a few casual questions, however, I knew I needed to be careful. Not be too obvious I was snooping.
I tried to glance around without coming across as “looking.” The space did have security cameras positioned in the far corners of the room. I couldn’t be sure of any others. I handed my half full glass to the tender and inquired as to where the ladies room was located. He gave me directions, took my glass, swiped the bar down where I’d been then moved to the end of the bar to speak to Mr. White.
On my way to the restroom, I saw Zaden. There was no mistaking it was him. His long black-blue hair swishing around his shoulders as he ducked through a dark curtain. My restroom break could wait. I changed directions, scampered past the dance floor, passing a public spanking exhibition, and was stopped by a big, burly guy right as I reached the curtain.
“Restricted space,” the burly man said.
“But I know the man who just entered here, and I need to talk with him,” I said.
“Not going to happen.”
“Well, can you go? Tell him someone wants to talk to him?” He shook his head. “Please.”
“Nope,” he said and crossed his massive arms across his chest.
It was clear I was at an impasse. If I wanted past the burly dude, I’d need a distraction.
I turned around, took a few steps then dropped like a rock. My fainting spell could have won an award.
“Ms., are you all right?” the burly man asked. I peeked to see him coming toward me. When he bent down to assist me, I jumped up, hopped around him, and dove for the curtain. He was too big to move fast so I had the advantage. For a few moments, anyway.
“Zaden!” I yelled down the hall. I knew the big guy would be on my tail. I ran, full speed, until there was nowhere else to run. The door at the end of the hall was locked. I banged and banged. “Zaden! Are you in there?”
My time was up. The burly man was clearly upset. He stomped, and snorted his way down the hall, looking like a pissed off bulldog on steroids. I held up my hands. “Sorry,” I said.
He grabbed me up like a sack of potatoes, carried me out to Chester, placed me on my feet without letting go of my arms and said, “She’s ready to go.”
“No, I’m not,” I said.
“Yes, she is,” he rebutted.
“I’ll call her driver,” the naked, neon painted Chester said.
“Come on,” pissed off bulldog man said. He tugged at my arm. Escorted me into the elevator.
It was an awkward return to the surface.
Chapter Seven
The Stroke of Midnight.
My Wonderland driver had dropped me off at my fake dorm address in the middle of a deluge. Of course he didn’t know the front door he walked me to wasn’t my building. I waved at him from under the awning when he pulled away. Waited a couple of minutes, listening to the storm as it built intensity then decided to go for it.
The rain was coming down in buckets, plastering my skimpy school girl outfit to my body as I ran through the parking lot of SU. The periodic street light marked my way, illuminating the dark. Raindrops that felt more like bullets pelted me in stinging blows by the time I reached my vehicle. I frantically searched for my keys with the knowledge I was getting wetter by the moment, and located
them in the bottom corner of my bag. I played slip and slide with them in my wet hand, trying to unlock my door, finally making progress as the first crackle of lighting lit up the sky in an impressive display of nature’s power.
I hopped inside. Slammed the door as soon as my soggy ass hit the seat. I wouldn’t say I dripped, but showered the inside of my car. I rummaged for some left over take out napkins that I keep in my glove box. I always find some sort of use form them, why not a makeshift towel? The wad of napkins were behind the bottle of Tylenol, some just in case of an emergency tampons, and the zipper pocket that held my registration paperwork for the car. I scooped the napkins up, having fewer than I originally thought, and dabbed my face dry. The rest of me would have to stay wet. I’d need a beach towel the size of Florida to really dry off, and that, unfortunately, wouldn’t fit in my handy dandy little glove box stash.
When I tried to start my car, the engine didn’t turn over. A strange click-click noise took the place of the engine sound.
“Shit!” I said and pounded the steering wheel.
I tried again. Nothing but the click-click-click, followed. I stared at the time on my phone. What in the heck am I going to do? I didn’t bring any real money with me, nor my ID or credit cards. I was Alice Smith tonight, and I took every precaution not to have Allison McCray discovered. I quickly ran through a list of friends who might be willing to come help me. Most of my friends were already married, with families, and rarely stayed up late, even on a Friday night. I had my work acquaintances. Derik. He’d be up. He told me he was a night owl, and did his best research for the weekly entertainment column he wrote at night.
I grabbed my phone and texted.
Hey, Derik. This is Allison. Sorry to bother you, but I kind of need your help. I figured you’d be up, and I know its storming. Anyway, my car won’t start and I’m stuck in the parking lot at SU.
Tied Up in Wonderland Page 6