Alice’s eyes lit up with joy as the cat dangled the silver key teasingly before her. Her freedom was within grasp, only, with her hands trapped behind her back, she wasn’t exactly sure how she might grasp it.

“I don’t suppose you could assist me, Cheshire.”

“I could,” the cat grinned.

“Thank you ever so much,” Alice sighed in relief and waited. And waited. And waited, finally frowning as the cat had done nothing but stare at her, never once even blinking. Finally, her patience wore out.

“Well?” she demanded, doing her best to stamp her foot in ire.

“Pardon?”

“You were going to unlock my shackles!”

“How do you suppose?”

“You said you would! After all, you have the only key!”

“No, you supposed I could. I simply agreed with you. I most definitely could. That’s not to say I would. Or I should.”

“But-“

Alice was interrupted by a commotion just outside the door.

“If you truly wish to be free,” said the cat as he slowly faded, taking the key with him, until only his smile remained, “come find me.”

“But where!” Alice shouted so that she could be heard over the cacophony outside.

“Start at the beginning and when you get to the end, there I’ll be.”

And with that, even his grin was gone.

“This is madness,” she said, quite angrily. Had her hands been free she would most certainly have pounded her fist upon the table to vent her ire. As it was, she stamped her heel against the floor and cursed.

“Dash and Bother!” And then “Oh!” For just then the door was thrown open, this time by a burly man dressed in crimson armor. Alice couldn’t help but stared in amazement, for atop his shoulders where one might reasonably expect the head of a man, he had the head of a horse.

She found herself staring into large bloodshot eyes as the creature pulled its lips back to reveal large square teeth.

“Friend or foe!” it, or perhaps he, said, for Alice was unsure how to categorize the red knight.

“Friend, sir knight,” she responded, trembling as she struggled to her knees and then unsteadily to her feet. She blushed furiously, reminded of her immodest state in the knight’s presence.

The knight stamped the butt of his spear against the wooden deck, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“You wouldn’t be lying about that, would you?” he, or perhaps it, demanded.

“No, sir. My name is Alice and I am, or rather was, a prisoner. As you can see, I am in chains and I assure you, I am here against my will.”

The knight moved closer, each footstep shaking the floor. Alice managed to tear her gaze from his face for a moment and stare at his feet, or rather its hooves, and then at its spear as it lowered it, pointing it at her chest. Holding her breath, she stood still, unable to quell the tear that welled up and ran down her cheek. Inside, she felt a sob welling up as well.

“Well, you are my prisoner now,” the knight huffed.

Alice sighed in exasperation at being captured once again, thinking that it was quite unfair that no one seemed interested in rescuing her.

“I don’t imagine you could free me?” she asked plaintively.

“And let you escape?” He chuckled loudly, shaking his head.

“I give you my word that I will do no such thing.”

“Well, I suppose.”

Seeing as he (she decided to settle on ‘he’, at least for the time being) looked thoughtful, Alice kept quiet while trying her best to look both trustworthy and harmless.

“Turn around,” he finally told her, tapping her on one shoulder with his spearhead. Obediently, she turned, taking care to move slowly so that she wouldn’t fall. After all, her ankles were still chained together, not to mention she’d been unable to pull her knickers up, making it difficult to remain upright.

“Stand still and take a deep breath.”

She did both, as well as squeezing her eyes closed and blushing furiously as she felt a draft of cool air tease between her thighs unsure of what he planned. After all, the Cheshire Cat still had the key to the cuffs and the only way she could imagine being freed was to break the chains connecting them, which is almost exactly, yet not quite, what happened. Instead, he struck them in two, one at a time, with the point of his spear, parting them neatly. Not quite what she had in mind, but she chose not to complain.

She felt another tap, this time on her exposed bottom, and blushed even harder if that was possible.

“About face, prisoner!” the knight snapped.

Taking a deep breath, she turned once more, but only after hastily pulling her panties back into place so that she could retain a modicum of decorum in the presence of her horse headed captor.

“Please, sir. May I dress properly – and in private – before being paraded before your fellow sailors, not to mention any surviving pirates? I am, after all, a creature of delicate sensibilities.”

She blushed even deeper as the knight’s gaze wandered indecently from the outline of her breasts to her barely covered thighs. Her silk slip, after all, was very little protection should he decide to take advantage of her. She shivered at the very thought, unable to make up her mind if it was a shiver of fear or of carnal hunger or, perhaps, a combination of the two.

“I suppose,” he said reluctantly.

“Oh, thank you,” she exclaimed with a breathy sigh of relief, managing a small curtsy. “Now if you’ll just step outside and give me a minute. I give you my word that I won’t try to escape.”

“Promise?” he asked suspiciously.

“My word, sir!”

“Well, then. Don’t take too long. I’ll be right outside the door.

"Things are beginning to look up," she said to herself, not entirely convinced as she searched the room. "Now, if I were a pirate captain, where would I stow my wardrobe. Most likely in a trunk. And where would I keep that trunk? Why... I am certain I would keep it at the foot of my bed. And where would my bed be? Why... on the other side of that door!"

‘That door’ being an oak slab opposite the one the knight guarded and decorated with a single brass knob that could only be to his sleeping quarters. Or so she hoped. There was only one way to know for sure and so she approached the door and placed her hand upon the knob, intending to find out for herself.

“Who goes there?!”

Startled, Alice withdrew her hand and quickly looked around, baffled, as she was alone.

“I’m sorry?” she said, looking perplexed.

“You don’t sound too sure of that.”

“I’m not too sure of anything today,” she admitted, blinking as she realized the voice was coming from the door in front of her. More specifically, from the brass knob. “I didn’t know doorknobs could talk, for example.”

“Did you ever think to inquire?”

“Well, no,” she admitted.

“There you are. Never thought to bother, did you? Just go around all day grabbing and turning, never once asking permission first. Rude, if you ask me. No manners at all.”

“I am terribly sorry. I promise to be more thoughtful in the future. I’d very much like to open the door.”

“Password!”

“Excuse me?”

“No one’s allowed in without the password.”

“Oh. But I don’t know the password!”

“Thought as much.”

Alice sat down on one of the chairs, her chin in her hands, and knitted her brow, hoping that would help her think. She wasn’t sure how long the knight would allow her, but she was certain that if she took too long he’d come to check on her before she had a chance to change into something less improper than her undergarments.

“I could give you a hint,” the knob said, apparently taking pity on the obviously distressed young woman.

“Would you?” Alice sat up straighter, brightening. “That would be very kind of you. Very kind indeed.”

“Well, I’m not a scoundrel, after all. Fact is before I was purloined by pirates I had a respectable job working for a jeweler.”

“That sounds very respectable, indeed,” Alice agreed. “You must have been very trustworthy.”

“I was,” the knob said, his voice full of pride and more than a hint of sadness. “Now, however, I am resigned to guarding the quarters of the very man who sullied my reputation when he not only stole the fine jewelry I was guarding but me as well!”

“That sounds very unfair,” Alice said with feeling before falling into a long silence and resigned herself to going out upon the deck of the Looking Glass in her current state of undress.

“I suppose I could give you a hint,” the knob said, breaking the silence.

“A hint?” Alice felt a sudden stab of hope

“A riddle, perhaps. Are you good with riddles?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m rather clever. At least I like to believe I am. Just in case I’m not nearly as clever as I think I am, perhaps you could make it an easy riddle?”

“I could do that. Yes, I believe I could. Let me consider it for a moment.”

Again, Alice sat in silence, but this time, it was infused with hope, until finally, it announced that it has come up with the perfect riddle, not too hard, in case she wasn’t as clever as she thought, but not too easy so as to make it a true challenge.

“What turns everything around but does not move?”

“Oh, dear,” was Alice’s reply once she heard the riddle. Perhaps she wasn’t as clever as she thought. Still, the Doorknob had thought this an easy clue, so perhaps, if she thought about it for a moment, the answer would come to her.

“What turns everything around but does not move?” she repeated softly, trying to reason out the answer. The earth? No. That would be backward. The earth turns while everything upon it sits still. What else could it be? Something that doesn’t move. And yet, there are so many things that do move!”

She looked around the small cabin, hoping for some inspiration, but nothing seemed to be coming to her. “Dash and bother,” she cursed quietly, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Why couldn’t it be something easy, like the captain’s name? Or the name of his...

“Oh! His ship! The Looking Glass! When you gaze in a mirror, your reflection is in reverse. That’s it, isn’t it! A mirror!”

“Clever girl,” the knob announced as it turned clockwise, allowing her access to Captain Foxtrot’s private quarters.

“I am in your debt,” Alice told it, remembering her manners and performing a quick curtsy in gratitude as she pushed open the door and slipped inside, closing and locking it behind her. Then, with a sigh of relief, she leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes. For the moment, she was safe from scoundrels of both crews.

“Perhaps I will find a way to escape this predicament,” she said allowed, her voice hushed so that the knight could not overhear her as she looked around the room, eyes wide at the collection of stolen items about the small room. Gold and silver winked at her from every surface. Jewels as well. Everything from elaborate candlesticks to religious idols decorated the room.

“A very prolific pirate,” Alice mused as she searched for a trunk that might hold something suitable for her to wear, pausing for a moment in front of a full-length mirror propped up near the bed.

“I look a mess,” she frowned at her reflected image. Her hair was tangled and her bottom pink from the spanking. Her wrists and ankles and even her throat were adorned with steel bands from which chains dangled. Even her once pristine panties were sullied by a damp patch that was impossible to ignore and reminded her of the spanking the captain had administered. Strangely, the memory excited her nipples into stiffness. She thought the sight of them poking through her thin white shift was somewhat erotic. With a trembling hand, she slid her fingers over the front of her silk drawers licking her lips at the sultry image presented.

“I look like a French postcard.” While she’d never actually seen a French postcard, she’d certainly heard about them. Indecent! Her sister had once said when a cousin mentioned them after returning from a trip abroad to Paris. Scandalous! Her mother agreed, shaking her head. Her father, however, had just coughed and went back to reading his paper, his face hidden behind the headlines, a tactic he often used when not wishing to join in the conversation. Alice had wondered at the time of his opinion on the matter. She had, after all, thought them to sound quite exciting and had retired early to her room that evening to pose in front of her mirror as she imagined a French girl would if she were having a picture taken for a racy postcard.

“More like a French whore.”

She gasped in surprise, her hand flying from her panties to her mouth as she spun around, looking for the owner of the voice.

“Who is there?”

“Silly girl. It’s just me. Or rather, it’s you.”

She spun again, facing the mirror, sure that someone was hiding behind it. She let out a soft gasp of surprise at what she saw, for her reflection didn’t look at all surprised but rather... pleased.

“I must be dreaming!” she said, reaching out to press her hand against the reflective glass.

“Must you?” she, or rather, her reflection, replied, its hand pressed palm to palm with hers.

“I cannot say for sure. This has been a very curious day, after all.”

She stepped back, expecting the 'Alice' in the mirror to do that same. Instead, it stepped forward and out of the mirror and performed a small curtsy.

“Don’t be afraid, dear Alice,” she told herself, or rather, her reflection told her as it reached out to cup her chin and tilting it slightly until it was at the perfect angle for a kiss.

And what a kiss it was. Alice had been kissed before. Chaste kisses by suitors that left her wanting and a little disappointed. This kiss, however, was not the tentative peck on the lips she’d experienced before. The other Alice’s lips were soft and warm against hers, pressing into hers. She felt heat building deep within her and moaned softly, her mouth opening in an invitation to the soft wet tongue of her mirror image.

‘This is very improper,’ she thought, willing herself to push the other Alice gently away. ‘A lady should never kiss another lady, especially if that lady is herself. It’s improper and indecent.’

“And yet, you want to kiss me again,” Alice said, laughing at the look of surprise on her face. “I know exactly what you’re thinking. I am, after all, you. I know what you want, too. And what makes you feel good. Push all those silly thoughts of impropriety and indecency from your head.”

When she’d finished speaking, she slowly pulled her slip up over her head and Alice followed suit as if she was the reflection now and the other Alice was in control.

The other Alice smiled, stepping closer which, in turn, forced Alice to step closer as well, so that their small breasts were almost, but not quite, pressing against each other.

“This is all very confusing,” Alice murmured into Alice’s mouth as they resumed their kiss. She felt soft hands upon her breasts and, at the same time, felt soft supple flesh beneath her fingers. She whimpered softly into mirror Alice’s kiss as her already stiff nipples stiffened more as they were teased and gently tugged.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she breathed, panting softly as a hand slid down her flank to settle on her hip as they kissed passionately, her own fingers finding a will of their own to slide through waves of silky golden hair. She brushed a few strands behind the other Alice’s ear gently, while the other Alice traced her hip bone slowly until she trembled with a desire bordering on lust.

“It feels nice, doesn’t it, Alice.” It was not a question.

“Yes,” she breathed, her own hand taking the route her reflection had, sliding past ribs and settling on her slim hip, her fingers trailing over soft warm flesh just above the line of her silky undergarments. This time she took the lead, slipping her hand down until she was cupping her mirror image, her fingers stroking gently as her thumb pressed against the material, seeking out the nub of pleasure that she was so familiar with from all her late-night explorations under the covers. Unsurprisingly both pairs of knickers were growing damp, so damp that they might even be described as soaking wet.

“Have you ever tasted yourself?”

“Once,” she whispered, her cheeks pinkening at the memory. Curious, she had dared herself to lick her fingers, still under the spell of enrapturing while touching herself. It had made her feel dirtier than she ever had before or since.

“Did you like the taste?”

“Oh, yes,” she panted as other Alice slid her hand inside of her panties, doing exactly what Alice was doing to her, only without the barrier of the silky material, her fingers slipping tenderly between her cunny lips until she could feel her knuckles pressing against her mound of Venus.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her mouth forming an oval of surprise and pleasure, several strands of saliva still connecting her tongue to her reflection’s.

She stayed that way, unable and unwilling to do more than continue to stroke the other Alice, pausing a moment to push her gusset to one side so that she could feel her cunny against her fingertips.

“No. Please don’t.” A few heartbeats ago that might have been her response to felling her cunny invaded by her look-alike’s fingers. Now, it was in response to it being abandoned.

“Patience, Alice. Now, keep your pretty little mouth open for me...”

Patience is its own reward, she’d once been told. The feel of fingers pushing past her parted lips and the sweet coppery taste of her own cunny juices was a much better prize, she decided as she closed her mouth and sucked, her tongue exploring the delightful taste of her own arousal for the second time in her short life.

“I taste just like that. Just like you,” other Alice murmured into her ear, kissing it softly, her tongue traveling down her neck playfully whilst she continued to pleasure her small breasts and swollen nipples with the fingers on her other hand.

“Mmhm,” was all Alice could manage, her own two fingers pushing apart swollen lips and sliding into the other Alice’s very slick and extremely tight hole. She was rewarded with a moan of pure pleasure that sounded exactly like her own.

“Fuck me, Alice.”

‘My reflection speaks like a sailor,’ she mused to herself. ‘Or, dare I say it, like a French whore. I should be mortified and yet, I find it appealing in a strange way. Curious.’

“Fuck me!”

Her shackled wrist was suddenly wrapped in fingers so that it was held in place as her reflection began to thrust her hips with wild abandon, forcing her fingers deeper into her quite wet cunny while she covered her mouth with her own and kissed her almost violently, her moans vibrating against her tongue.

How long this went on for, Alice wasn’t sure, for she’d lost all track of time, awash in pleasure as she was. It felt like an eternity and yet, strangely like a blink of the eye.

“I need to feel your mouth.”

Alice wasn’t quite sure what that meant at first but learned quickly as the Alice from the mirror took control, pushing her roughly to her knees and tangling both hands in her golden locks.

“Lick me. Make me cum with your sweet little mouth,” she moaned, forcing Alice’s face against her cunny. Alice gasped, their gazes meeting. “Use your tongue, Alice. Lick me. Use it just like you use your fingers when you play with yourself. Don’t stop until you’ve made me come.”

‘I can do that,’ she thought, and so she did, noting that her reflection’s juices did taste exactly the same as hers – a blend of sweet coppery musk that was not at all unpleasant to the senses. She started tentatively, gaining confidence as her administrations drew whimpers and moans and comments that would have once turned her cheeks bright red as she wrapped her arms around her reflections slim thighs, holding on tightly while she used her mouth on her hot cunny.

“Good girl. Fuck me with your dirty tongue. Don’t stop until I come. I want my pussy juices dripping all over your face. Oooh, yes, just like that, just like you’re a naughty little...”

Alice never got the chance to find out if she was a naughty little French whore or a naughty little cunny licker or just a naughty little girl – although she bristled a little at that possibility, for she had just celebrated her seventeenth birthday, after all! – for at that very moment, other Alice let out a gasping cry and forced her head against her mound while trembling violently.

“Fuck!” she cried out as she released a torrent of juices into Alice’s mouth and against her nose and cheeks.

“Mmph!” Alice exclaimed against her cunny, both surprised and shocked by the sudden flood, most of which dripped down her chin and onto her chest, coating her perky little nipples and breasts.

“Good girl.”

Alice beamed shyly as she felt the other Alice patting her head tenderly before sliding down to her own knees so that they were face to face once more. She leaned in, mouths once more pressing together, lips parting, the other Alice tasting herself on Alice’s tongue while she reached between her thighs and stroked her needy cunny – her pussy, Alice amended, feeling deliciously naughty at the use of the word – whilst Alice reached behind her to fondle and grope her bottom with both hands, pulling herself closer until you couldn’t have fit a razor between them.

***

I am forever indebted to Greenman for help with editing.