by Liz Adams
Alice couldn’t hold on. She dropped the piglets onto the ground. They scampered into the forest.
A sinking dread weighed heavy inside her gut. She just lost someone’s children! Alice didn’t know what the punishment was for losing someone’s children, but it couldn’t have been good. There had to be a reason why losing them didn’t matter. A reason she could give, if asked. They were never really children to begin with, right? How do you lose children that aren’t children? Surely she wouldn’t be in trouble for losing starfish that turned into piglets.
Alice thought of the duke discovering his babies being gone. She suddenly didn’t feel so bad. In fact, she felt a wicked grin come over her. Serves him right! Better yet, “the boys” were surely better off away from the duke. Alice couldn’t imagine how horrible a father he was. But what about the cook? She loved those babies so much! They were the reason she stayed. That’s when Alice realized the full extent of how good it was that she lost those babies. Now the cook wouldn’t have a reason to stay. She’d leave the duke and would never submit to his temper again.
Alice moved on into the woods comforted, at least, that she had the benefit of having the experience of nursing at all. Something she could look forward to as a mother of her own children.
Chapter 15
Alice found a dirt path through thick trees and followed it. A path was likely to lead her to some sort of civilization, where she could get help to grow and return home. It led her to a fork with a signpost. One way led to the Hare, the other to the Hatter.
A voice said from behind her, “You could have stopped him, you know?”
Alice spun around and saw a cat in the tree with the most hideous tooth-filled grin.
“Who are you?” Alice put her hands on her hips.
“The Cheshire cat.”
“How did you get here?”
“I thought about you and turned left.”
As Alice struggled with that, the cat continued, “You could have stopped him.”
“Who?”
“Put a finger in your pussy,” the cat said. “And no, I’m not trying to be funny. Just do it.”
“I won’t,” Alice said.
“Believe me, you’ll be very glad you did. I won’t see anything. You can keep your hand under your dress the whole time. Just do it.”
Alice looked at him. Should she really put a finger inside her in front of this cat? His smile revealed that he’d like it too much. But his words, you’ll be very glad you did, sounded truthful.
Alice turned her back to the cat and lifted the front of her dress. She looked back to make sure the cat couldn’t see. He just smiled. Convinced he couldn’t see, she slipped a finger inside.
“How does it feel?” The cat asked. “Does it feel like a lizard?”
Alice felt her finger tingle and transform. Inside, it no longer felt like a finger. It felt like tiny feet pushing against her inner walls, a little tongue darting around in there.
“Like a banana?” the cat asked.
The legs and tongue receded but there still was no feeling of a finger inside of her. Alice felt a firm, cold curve fill her, as though her finger turned into a banana. She whimpered and felt herself becoming moist.
“Like a vibrating banana?”
The thing buzzed inside her, now, drilling and whirring her wet. Alice gasped. What was happening to her?
The cat continued. “Like a fist? Like a flute? Like a bat? Like a bottle? Like your finger?”
Shapes and textures stuffed and wiggled and stretched Alice’s insides. Heat spread across her body and her juices dribbled down her thighs. After flashes of incredible changes filled inside of her, her pussy finally relaxed around her finger again. She pulled out her hand from under her dress and looked at the glistening finger. It looked normal.
“Do you get it now?” the cat asked. “Any cliché, simile, or metaphor becomes true around here. That has its disadvantages of course, but it also has its beautiful advantages.”
Alice thought about it a moment, as her body calmed down. She could change anything at will, anytime she liked.
“So you could have stopped him,” the cat said for the third time.
“Who?”
“The duke.”
“But I did stop him! I banged on the door to stop him!”
“But he’ll be back later. And when he finds out his boys are gone, who do you think he’ll blame?”
Alice felt her lungs stiffen shut.
The cat continued. “You could have turned him into a mouse if you wanted to. Then he couldn’t do anything more to the cook.”
She could have stopped the duke. But she didn’t know about the crazy rules of this land with all the powers of clichés and metaphors. Or did she? She saw the way the villagers started the campfire with ice. And Caterpillar had said his cum tasted like peppermint to make it true. She should have figured it out. She could have stopped the duke. “I’ve put the cook in danger,” she said in a whisper.
“No you didn’t,” the cat said.
“What?”
“The cook isn’t in any danger. She realized the babies were gone, packed her things, and left the duke’s cottage.”
“Then why did you say he’d hurt the cook?”
“I said no such thing. I’m just making a point.”
Alice waited. “Which is…?” Alice coaxed.
“Everything in the past seems easier with hindsight. That’s why I travel backwards in time.”
“Wait, what? What do you mean you travel backwards in time?”
The cat smiled wider. “Since I know what happens in hindsight, I’ve decided to move from place to place further into my past. That way I know just what to do and when to do it. I don’t see why everyone else doesn’t do that.”
Curiouser and curiouser! Could it be true? Alice decided to test the cat’s claim by asking a question the cat could answer with his unique time-traveling knowledge.
“Which way do I go?” Alice asked. “To the Hare or to the Hatter? And which way is the better way?”
“Beats me,” the cat said. “I only know what happens in your past. Even though I came from your future and perhaps even was with you in your future, I don’t remember it. I only remember the past, the next place I’ll be going.”
Alice sighed. “A lot of good you are.”
“But I will say this. The Hatter is quite mad.”
“Oh!” Alice said. “Good! So I’ll go see the Hare.”
“Enjoy!” The cat said and vanished. Literally vanished. Like a magic trick. It was quite extraordinary how the cat could disappear like that.
Alice looked at her moist finger again. It chilled in the air. Could it really be that simple? To find out what a cock feels like? To finally get that elusive orgasm? “My finger is like a thick penis,” she said.
Her finger transformed and grew into a large, hefty shaft of flesh. The perfect cock.
Alice pulled up her skirt and pressed the head against her folds, stroking herself. The cock felt hot, real. This was truly it. This was what Jack truly felt like.
A voice said, “What happened to the duke’s babies?”
Alice withdrew her hand with its floppy cock-finger and hid it behind her back.
It was the cat. He was back in the tree from out of nowhere.
“What?” she said.
“What happened to the duke’s babies?”
“They turned into piglets.”
“Ah! Very good,” the cat said and disappeared again.
Alice sighed with relief. Put the cock back between her thighs, imagined it was that moment. That first moment when Jack cried out her name, told her he loved her.
“Did you say ‘Chick Lit’?”
Alice rushed her hand behind her back again. Damn that cat! “What?”
“Did you say they turned into ‘Chick Lit’?”
“No, I said ‘piglets.’ “
“Ah!” The cat said. “Well that’s okay, then.”
&nbs
p; “I wish you wouldn’t appear and disappear so suddenly,” Alice said. “It’s very…disruptive.”
“Precisely,” the cat smiled. “Goodbye, then.”
The Cheshire cat slowly disappeared with just his grin left floating in the air until that, too, faded away.
Alice looked at her hand, the wobbly cock sticking up. “It’s like my finger,” Alice said. She soon had her regular hand back. I better try climaxing later, when I’m certain to not be interrupted, Alice decided and trampled down the path to the Hare.
Chapter 16
Alice took the path toward the Hare. After a few minutes of walking through a quiet forest, she arrived at an enormous house that must have belonged to the Hare for the path ended there. In front of the house was a long table decorated with china teacups, teapots, teakettles, and teaspoons. Two men sat with a sleeping woman between them. One of the men had a Roman nose and big jaw, wore an orange shirt and green vest, and an enormous top hat. Clearly, the Hatter. His orange shirt sported a picture of a teapot on it. Ridiculous. Shirts with tea illustrations on them. Alice decided such tea-shirts would never stay in fashion long.
The other man was, well, yum. The signs must have made a spelling error. The sign should have read "Bare." This other man was naked, muscle-clad, and covered with hair. The woman had a beautiful flow of blonde hair draped over her shoulders. She, too, was naked. She slept leaning back in her chair.
As Alice approached, she could hear their discussion more clearly.
“Some more tea?” the Hatter asked the Hare.
“Yes, please.”
The Hatter poured, but as far as Alice could tell, nothing came out of the spout.
“Milk?” the Hatter asked.
“Yes, please,” the Hare replied.
The Hatter placed the empty teacup directly under the woman’s breast and tweaked her nipple. The woman giggled in her sleep and her nipple hardened. But no milk had come from it.
Alice did a quick check and squeezed her own nipple. No milk.
She walked over to the table just as the Hatter handed the teacup past the woman to the Hare.
It wasn’t until Alice took a seat across from the three that the Hatter noticed her.
“You can’t sit there,” the Hatter said. “There isn’t enough room.”
“There’s plenty of room,” Alice protested.
“Alright then,” the Hatter said. “If you want join us, you must figure out the one thing that is wrong about this poem. ‘Twinkle twinkle goes your eye, as I finger you to cry. Moan above my fingers’ thrusts, like a tortured soul of lust.’ ”
Alice scowled.
“Well?” the Hatter asked.
“Well, everything seems wrong with that poem.” Alice folded her arms across her chest.
“Ha! You can’t find the one thing, can you?”
“I give up,” Alice said. “What’s the one thing wrong with it?”
“Beats me.” The Hatter turned to the Hare, “Do you know?”
The Hare shrugged, his flexing muscles glistening in the sunlight.
The woman blurted out, “I love you, Hare!” And mumbled back into sleep.
“Well then, have some more tea, Mr. Hare.” The Hatter poured another cup of emptiness.
“Milk?” The Hatter asked.
“Of course,” the Hare said.
The Hatter pinched the woman’s nipple again, over the empty cup. She giggled, and then snored.
Alice asked, “Why do you pinch her nipples all the time?”
The Hatter said, “Why, to get milk for our tea, of course.”
“But there is no milk.”
“There is no tea, either,” sighed the Hatter. “Honestly. Do keep up.”
The woman shouted, “I love you, Hatter!” And mumbled back to sleep.
“Who is she, anyway?” Alice asked.
The Hare said, “This is Minnie. The most wonderful woman in the world.”
Minnie cried out, “Kiss, please!”
The Hare kissed Minnie’s lips until Minnie fell back to sleep.
He turned to Alice and said, “Would you like to hear a story? Minnie tells the best stories!”
“Yes, very much!” Alice said.
The Hatter lovingly brushed Minnie’s hair past her ear and whispered, “Minnie, wake up. It’s story time.”
Minnie’s eyes fluttered from a dream. She looked back and forth between the Hatter and the Hare. “Oh, good,” she said smiling. “It wasn’t just a dream.”
The Hare kissed her cheek and said, “It’s story time.”
“But I don’t have a book to read from.”
Alice jumped in. “I have a book.” She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the title. “But it’s broken.”
“How can a book be broken?” asked Minnie.
“It says, ‘The Story of OMH,’ but that’s not right.”
“Let me see,” said the Hatter with an outstretched arm.
He took the book and showed it to Minnie. Minnie said, “You’re correct. That’s not right.”
Alice nodded.
“It doesn’t say, ‘The Story of OMH,’ ” Minnie said. “It says ‘The Story of O.’ ”
“Really?” Alice said. She rounded the table to look over Minnie’s shoulder. As far as Alice could see, it read, “The Story of OMH.” She took the book from Minnie’s hands and read to herself the beginning. “Old Mother Hubbard lived in a cupboard…”
“You better read it aloud,” Alice said giving the book back to Minnie. “It seems to work with you.”
Minnie started on page one and it was just how Alice remembered it. The starting scenes of O meeting her lover René at the park, taking the taxi ride, taking off her panties and René removing her bra before arriving at a chateau, the scene where O is bathed by two chambermaids, then dressed in a collar and bracelets and cape, and paraded in front of anonymous men…
Alice, the Hatter, and the Hare listened in silence as the erotic words left Minnie’s lips. Alice admired how the Hatter and Hare gazed upon Minnie with love in their eyes. Such a contrast to The Story of O. Every so often, the Hatter and the Hare drank from their teacups. Alice ignored the ridiculousness of them drinking nothing and listened to Minnie’s reading.
“ ‘Finally, finished with her, they moved away...’ ” Then Minnie stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Alice asked.
“What do they mean by ‘finished’?” Minnie said.
“You know,” Alice said. “They had an orgasm.”
“What’s an ‘orgasm’?” Minnie asked.
Alice scowled feeling confused. Did Minnie have the same problem with reaching climax?
“You know when you have sex?” Alice asked.
The Hatter said, “Male or female?”
“No,” Alice said. “Sex like what they were talking about in the book.”
The Hare said, “They weren’t talking about gender?”
“No!”
Minnie murmured, “I think I may have completely misunderstood this story.”
The Hare and Hatter looked at Minnie and nodded sympathetically.
Alice looked at the three of them. They seemed to love each other so much. And without having made love. Alice realized she could be the one to take them to a whole new height of appreciating each other. With both the Hatter and the Hare, there was ample penetration that could even provide Minnie with the orgasm she so deserved.
“I’ll do it,” Alice said.
“Do what?” The Hatter asked.
“I’ll show you what an orgasm is, and while I’ll definitely be able to get you guys to experience one, Minnie, I’ll do my best to make sure you have one, too.”
“Yay!” Minnie said. “Do I get to choose its color?”
Alice chuckled. “Orgasms don’t come in different colors,” she said. “Not literally, anyway.”
“Then I guess I’ll have it in its normal color,” Minnie said.
Chapter 17
Alice moved
dishes, cups, saucers, and spoons down to the far end of the table.
“Hare,” she said, “I need you to lie down on the table.”
“Face up or face down?”
“Face up,” Alice said.
The Adonis laid his naked, muscled body on the table. His hairy chest filled and emptied with each breath. His penis rested flaccid at his hips. His strong legs and arms looked clenched even in their relaxed state.
“Minnie,” Alice said. “You need to kiss the Hare on the lips.”
“It’s a kiss?” asked Minnie. “Well, in that case, I’ve had puh-lenty of orgasms!”
Alice smiled. “The orgasm comes later. For now, just love him with your kisses.” Meanwhile, Alice said to herself, I’ll be giving him a hand job to make him hard.
Minnie sat in the chair beside the Hare’s head and looked into his eyes. Alice was about to reach for the Hare’s cock, but stopped when she saw Minnie wasn’t kissing him.
Minnie just sat there, and the two of them looked into each other’s eyes. Alice couldn’t believe it but just watching them interact this way made her pulse race.
Minnie moved her head closer to his, still gazing into his eyes.
Amazing, Alice thought. He was getting hard just anticipating the kiss. Alice watched the Hare’s cock come to life, growing bigger, increasing every inch their lips came closer together.
Alice felt her nipples harden. Lord, this is so hot!
At last, Minnie kissed the Hare full on the mouth. The Hare pulsed, his length bobbed clearly aching for attention.
“Okay, Minnie,” Alice said. “You can stop kissing him and come over here. Now I want you to--”
Minnie continued to kiss the Hare.
For goodness sakes! “Minnie! Wake up!”
Minnie separated from the kiss, but kept her eyes fixed on the Hare who smiled up at her. “Now come sit here,” Alice pointed to the Hare’s waist, “with a knee on either side of him.”
“That’s a funny way to sit,” Minnie said. But she climbed atop the Hare letting his cock nuzzle against her cleft.
“Now rock your hips back and forth on top of him.”