Alice In Chains (3 page)

The Queen, seeming even larger within the confines of the room and making it appear drab and cramped by comparison, was looking round her curiously. ‘Is this the Overworld? Very strange.’

‘It’s sort of a transition point between here and there, Mistress,’ Alice explained. ‘It’s actually a copy of my bedroom. That’s the real one, which is in the Overworld through there.’ She pointed at the mirror.

The Queen stepped over to examine it, running her fingers over the glass. Suddenly she withdrew them as though the contact was painful. ‘Yes, I can feel its otherness. So the Overworld really exists. But how did you breach the dividing barrier?’

‘I just kind of imagined there was a way between my world and this, Mistress.’

The Queen looked at Alice with growing interest, as though assessing her for some purpose only she knew. ‘Was it as simple as that? An exercise of will alone?’

‘More or less, Mistress,’ Alice admitted. ‘Of course it helped that I already knew Underland existed.’

The Queen looked at her intensely, her red eyes seeming to lance right through Alice. ‘And you returned to Underland to find a cure for this odd affliction of yours?’

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘And how badly do you want it?’

‘Very badly, Mistress.’

‘What will you do to get it?’

Alice gulped, feeling herself being manoeuvred in some way while being helpless to prevent it. ‘Anything, Mistress.’

‘Then take me into your world!’

Alice blinked. ‘S … sorry, Mistress?’

‘Take me into your world, then bring me back. Show me it can be done. I command you!’

Those red eyes had her in their spell. Hers was not to question, just to obey. Dumbly Alice nodded and, having no real idea what she was doing, took the Queen’s hand and walked up to the mirror. I know it’s possible, she told herself. She thought of her world, her bedroom. It was not a reflection before her but another place. Taking a deep breath she stepped through the mirror … and the Queen stepped through after her.

She was back home. It was as easy as that!

Even as she felt a dizzy sense of elation course through her, a little voice inside her said, You’ve no idea what she wants you to do for her. She can’t be as powerful here as in Underland. Now’s your chance to get away!

But the Queen’s hand was closed firmly about hers, strong and cool. Somehow Alice could not even muster the will to make an effort to prise apart those slender red-tipped fingers and tear herself away. Besides, did she really want to escape whatever fate held in store for her back in the world of slaves and submission?

There was a faint murmur of voices from downstairs and a whiff of freshly brewed coffee. Her mother must have a visitor. Please don’t come upstairs because there’s no way I could explain what’s going on right now! Alice thought.

The Queen was sniffing the air and wrinkling her nose. ‘Your world has a foul smell compared to which a dungheap would seem as fragrant as a rose garden … what was that?’

A pantechnicon had driven past on the road outside and the rumble of its engine had penetrated the room as its blocky shadow passed across the curtains.

‘Just a lorry. A mechanical device for carrying people and goods about, Mistress,’ Alice explained. ‘Like a cart but without horses.’

‘How do you live in such a place? It is no wonder you choose to return to Underland.’ An edge of alarm entered the Queen’s voice. ‘You have proved yourself, girl. Now take me back!’

In a dream, Alice turned and stepped back through into Underland with the Queen at her heels.

On the other side the Queen sighed in relief, breathing deeply and looking exultant. She smiled at Alice, who felt a thrill of delight in the warmth she saw behind it.

‘I had need of a girling, but I never expected to find one with your ability,’ the Queen said. ‘Serve me well and you will have your cure. That I promise.’

‘Thank you, Mistress’,

‘Now we go to my pavilion. Come!’

And she strode back outside into the green Underland wood, with Alice trotting helplessly after her like a faithful dog.

Two

AS ALICE FOLLOWED
obediently after her new mistress she silently strove to come to terms with the strange and sudden turn of events. She was a slave again. Well, she knew more or less what that entailed; pain and pleasure. But it was vital that she did not let herself surrender completely to its intoxicating combination. She had to hold a little of herself back or else she might lose track of her own objectives and never return home. Nevertheless, she would do whatever it took to find a cure, both for her own and her parents’ peace of mind.

Her parents! Presumably when her mother found the house empty she would think Alice had gone out to see a friend or something. But if she did not return that night … oh no! They knew she had been worried about something and would think … well, any number of unpleasant things. She would put them through even more anguish! But there was nothing she could do about it now. She would just have to hope it worked out in the end. Meanwhile she had to concentrate on getting herself through the next hours or days, however long it took.

I’m the Queen’s slave now, she told herself. So I’d better act like one!

Yes, she was just a girling doing what came naturally. It was surprisingly easy to push her other life into the background. She felt herself slipping into a submissive
state
of mind where, paradoxically, she was free to live without mundane worries and only obedience mattered. Underland had always seemed more real than her own grey world. Had she been born in the wrong set of dimensions, or was this the only way to get here?

The Red Queen’s pavilion was a red-and-white-striped tent with a high conical roof and round walls, reminding Alice vaguely of the tents medieval knights lived in while camped about a jousting tournament. It nestled in a small dark clearing in the woods and was half smothered by a mass of ivy, which coiled about the guy ropes and across the roof like thick shaggy ropes. Was it intended as some sort of camouflage, or had the tent simply been there a long time?

More strands of ivy twined about a ring of a dozen statues that circled the glade. They were life-sized, carved in white stone and portrayed either men in armour carrying swords and maces, or else in long robes wielding ornate staffs. They were not mounted on plinths but rested directly on the ground, where the encroaching ivy made it appear as though the earth was trying to reclaim them. As Alice followed the Queen into the tent she noticed they were finished to a minute level of detailing.

The interior of the tent was carpeted with a scattering of thick rugs while its sides were hung about with tapestries depicting marching armies and battle scenes. A thick pile of silks and furs served as a bed. There were a couple of large brassbound wooden trunks and a single ornate chair. On a low table was set a huge golden platter piled with bread, fruits and slices of meat, and a matching golden pitcher and pair of goblets. Placed against the tent side was an odd device formed of curving strips of wood bolted together to form a broad U-shaped frame, standing a little higher than Alice’s head. Its base was mounted on a thick spindle rising
from
a solid stand, and pairs of cuffs dangled on chains hanging from heavy hooks which ringed the tops of the frame posts. Beside it was a rack holding a selection of chains, shackles and various corrective instruments, all of which Alice eyed anxiously.

But the focus of the interior seemed to be a chessboard inlaid on its own table, the squares made of red and white ivory divided by thin bands of gold. Taken pieces, also in red and white ivory and beautifully carved, were lined up on opposing sides of the board. Apparently the game was nearing a finish because there were very few pieces left in play.

‘You cannot be my slave without a collar,’ her new mistress said briskly. She sorted through the items on the rack until she found a plain steel collar with a single large securing ring. ‘There,’ she said with satisfaction, ‘solid and practical. Come here, girl, and lift your hair out of the way.’

Alice did as she was told and the Queen closed the collar about her neck with a click of some hidden spring. It fitted snugly, not too tight but nonetheless heavy and bringing with it a sense of confinement. Its metal hardness enclosing the soft flesh of her throat contrasted with the exposure of the rest of her body.

‘Beautiful,’ the Queen said, admiring the collar as though it was an expensive necklace. ‘Now onto the frame, girl. I want to examine you properly.’

With a little shiver of perverse anticipation, Alice stood on the base of the frame between the arms of the ‘U’. The Queen buckled thick broad cuffs about her wrists and adjusted the chain links over the hooks so that Alice’s arms were raised and outstretched. Then she took down the second pair of cuffs and secured them about Alice’s ankles. With easy strength she lifted and bent Alice’s legs up and out and hooked their trailing chains beside those securing her wrists. From the rack the Queen then selected a plain length of chain which
she
threaded through the ring on the front of Alice’s collar. Drawing on the ends of the chain until they were taut, she hooked them over the frame tops, doubling Alice over a little more but also supporting her neck and head and relieving a little of the strain on her arms. Alice was now slung in mid-air between the arms of the frame dangling from her wrists, ankles and neck, with her head raised a little higher than her bottom. She could feel the tendons at the back of her knees standing out under the tension, but most of all she was conscious of how completely her enforced posture exposed her groin, thrusting out her mound of Venus and opening the crinkled star of her anus.

The Queen took a step back and admired this blatant display. ‘What a pretty creature you are. It’s been so long since I’ve had a girling to play with. I acquired a few during the last game, I recall.’ She frowned. ‘How long ago was that? No matter …’

She began to undress, untying her cloak and tossing it aside, then unbuttoning her dress. With a whisper of silk it slipped down to the ground and she was naked except for her slippers and filigree crown.

The Queen was pale and perfectly formed, her skin the lightest shade of pink. Her legs were long and slender and seemed to go on for ever. Her waist was trim, her navel deep and her breasts, perfectly rounded and small only in comparison to her size, carried cherry-like upstanding nipples. Between her thighs burned a close, tight pubic bush as fiery as the hair on her head.

Alice stared at her, helplessly aroused. The Queen smiled at Alice’s own painfully swollen nipples. ‘Do I excite you, girl?’ she asked.

‘You … you’re very beautiful, Mistress.’

‘Yes, I am,’ the Queen said with sublime self-assurance.

She stepped onto the base of the U-frame so that she stood between Alice’s stretched thighs. Alice felt the
heat
of the Queen’s body and was aware of her own response in her loins. She was dripping with excitement and scenting the air with her intimate perfume. Weighed down with her troubles she had not had sex or even masturbated since she had returned from her first trip to Underland, which suddenly seemed an age ago.

The Queen gracefully knelt down to bring her face level with Alice’s groin and examined her pubic mound.

‘A novelty,’ she commented as though half to herself, ruffling the soft feathers with her fingertips, ‘but not unpleasant to the touch.’ Watching Alice’s face intently she teased her fingertips into her cleft, parting the tender pink folds of flesh and toying with the little bud concealed between them. Alice stifled a little moan as her clitoris pulsed harder under the expert manipulation and the liquid heat grew in her loins.

‘You quicken nicely,’ the Queen observed. ‘Are you unchanged inside, I wonder?’

Two fingers slid up into Alice’s vaginal passage, testing the elasticity of the ribbed sheath of hot flesh. Alice shuddered and tugged at her bonds; unable to quell the automatic uninhibited responses drilled into her, which were now inexorably reasserting themselves. No girling could resist such expert and confident handling, and she knew she was at heart a girling, with all the slavish sensuality that implied.

The Queen withdrew her fingers from the warm clinging embrace of Alice’s passage and sniffed the exudation that glistened upon them. Then with an approving smile she licked her fingers clean, saying languidly: ‘Such sweet oil.’

She reached between Alice’s widespread thighs and pried them wider to expose her anus. Alice yelped as long red nails bit into her skin. The Queen examined the tightly crinkled bottom mouth, noting its nervous contractions.

‘A neat little pucker, perhaps ripe for plugging. How well used is it?’

She ran a teasing fingernail round the fleshy wellhead which tightened and then opened under the intimate stimulation, as though in a welcoming pout. The inquisitive finger dipped again into Alice’s slippery wet cleft to lubricate itself, then drove into her anus. Alice moaned as she felt the questing finger explore the smooth pliant duct of her rectum, but she was quite helpless to prevent the intimate examination. Nor could she stifle an instinctive clenching of her anal ring as the intruding finger was withdrawn, which made it seem as though she was trying to hold it inside her.

‘A hot tight hole, but not inexperienced,’ the Queen pronounced, standing up and wiping her finger clean on the inside of Alice’s thigh. ‘I’m sure much can be made of it.’ Once again she stroked the delicate pubic cap of feathers. ‘And this growth is the result of a potion you took?’

‘Yes … Mistress,’ Alice said, struggling to keep her voice level. ‘I had to escape from Queen Redheart. She wanted to execute me …’ Alice briefly related the events that had led to the dramatic conclusion of her first visit to Underland.

‘A curious tale,’ the Queen said when Alice had finished. ‘I have heard of the excesses of the Redhearts. But then all the Cardians are rather coarse. They would play almost any game. So very common. And to think she would execute such a delightful creature as yourself.’ She smiled. ‘Why, I can think of a hundred better uses for you.’