Now that she could see beyond the shrubberies that ringed the clearing, Alice didn’t feet quite as lost. The Caterpillar had told her to follow the signs, or rather, the sign, since there was only one.
‘Argyll Meadow. I like the sound of that. I could do with a leisurely walk, although it doesn’t look nearly as pleasant as the meadows I’m used to. In fact, I’m not sure it’s even a proper meadow.’
In Alice’s experiences, meadows were usually covered with grass and populated with wildflowers while this meadow seemed to be covered with shallow water and lily pads.
‘Argyll Fen would be more appropriate, in my humble opinion.’
Still, there was a path meandering between the pools of water and it appeared to be relatively dry, so she set out, careful to avoid getting her feet wet, for she did not wish to catch a cold. As she made her way through the wetlands, she began to admire the beauty of the place. While certainly not a meadow, it had a certain charm, if you enjoyed gloomy wet places, that is. By now, Alice had become quite used to travelling about naked and thought very little of continuing to do so. After all, there was no one else about to see her, and even if there was, there was very little she could do about it unless she came upon a wardrobe along the way which was highly unlikely, or so she thought. Unless, of course, she was to find herself in a village or a town full of shops. Of course, she had no coin, nor anything to trade with, so she supposed she would have to rely upon the kindness of strangers in such an event.
“Eventually, this path should lead somewhere,” she mused out loud. “After all, it is a very nice trail. Oh, and here is a bridge and it’s quite charming!” she exclaimed, somewhat surprised, for indeed, she had come to a small stone bridge that crossed a particularly deep stretch of water, and it was, indeed, quite charming as small animals were carved into the stone posts and there was a small metal plaque upon the small gate that blocked her way. Fortunately it didn’t seem to be locked. Pausing, she read the sign.
“Tread quietly and sing no songs, nor stamp your feet in mirth, lest you wake what dwells beneath.”
“A warning,” she whispered, a sense of dread filling her, for it did indeed sound dire, and she had nothing to defend herself with should she be set upon. Still, she supposed that, as long as she tread lightly, she’d have nothing to worry about, and so, very carefully (for the hinges appeared to be rusted over) she opened the gate and stepped out onto the bridge, nervously eyeing the water for any sign of danger.
‘It seems rather peaceful,’ she thought as she made her way across the bridge, trying not to hurry, lest she wake whatever fearsome creature made its home beneath her feet, holding her breath when she heard a loud croaking. Peering nervously over the short stone rail on her left, she spied a dapper-looking (for it wore a scarlet coat decorated with gold buttons and brocade and a black tricorne also trimmed with gold) frog sitting upon an unusually broad lily pad.
“Do be quiet,” she shushed the frog, holding her finger to her lips.
“How rude, not to mention impertinent,” the frog replied in a thick Scottish accent. “I will not be shushed by the likes of you. Who do you think you are?”
“I’m Alice, and I don’t mean to be rude,” she said hurriedly, “But if the sign upon the gate is to be believed, a fearsome creature lies within these waters and I would very much hate to see him gobble either of us up for dinner.”
The frog just snorted loudly at her announcement and shook his head.
“Don’t believe everything you read,” it croaked. “Nor everything you don’t read, for that matter. In fact-“
What other pearls of wisdom the well-dressed frog planned on sharing were swallowed up, much like the frog, as a huge gaping maw full of razor-sharp teeth rose out of the water and swallowed the lily pad upon which he was sitting, as well as him, whole.
Alice let out a surprised cry at the sight and turned to run even as several thick tentacles burst from the water, sending her running as fast as she could towards the far end of the bridge, her heart pounding with fear as they followed, close at her heels.
Glancing back, she quickly realized that it was very unlikely that she could outrun them, and yet, what choice did she have, so while she continued to sprint as fast as she could, she was not surprised when one of the slick appendages wrapped itself around her waist, a multitude of small suckers attaching themselves to her exposed flesh, bringing her to a sudden halt, just long enough for the others to wrap themselves tightly around her limbs. Despite her best efforts to free herself, her struggles were in vain and she quickly found her feet parting company with the bridge as she was lifted into the air.
“Help!” she screamed, the sound echoing across the churning water as several more tentacles rose from the surface, suckers opening and closing like mouths as they sought her out.
“No!” she cried out, flailing as more and more wrapped themselves around her, kicking and striking uselessly until she was pinned in midair, no longer able to defend herself or her virtue, for that matter, for one of the tentacles seemed intent upon probing intimately between her thighs.
“Oh, please stop!” she cried out, breathing hard as she felt its tip caressing along the edge of her pussy and then stroking delicately in a clockwise circle around her sensitive button.
“Oh, please, don’t,” she said breathlessly, her eyelids fluttering and her thighs quivering as it continued its exploration of her nether regions even as another tentacle encircled her pert breast, the tip teasing her hardening nipple in a like-wise manner.
“No, oh, no, please?” she moaned, ceasing her struggles, unable to keep her hips from rolling as she felt undeniable waves of pleasure wash through her, her flesh growing warmer with each stroke and caress.
“Oh my,” she gasped as she felt the tip of a tentacle pressing against her bottom, teasing her puckered hole in a manner most decidedly not unpleasant. After that, she ran out of words and simply gave into the flames of lust being fanned within her as the monstrous tentacles had their way with her, slipping over her naked body, gripping her flesh, stroking and caressing her mercilessly. She felt suckers attaching themselves to her nipples, pulling and twisting, creating a tug of war of pain and pleasure that made her cry out. Between her legs, her swollen pleasure nub was receiving the same treatment. She felt her juices begin to overflow, dripping from her slit, coating the tentacle that was invading her, and the one the joined it. She felt her bottom being forced open as a third explored that hole as well, the sensation of being ravaged in both entrances heavenly.
She felt something inside her building, welling up deep within, until she couldn’t contain it any longer and she let out a high pitched wail of unearthly pleasure until she was too hoarse to continue. She felt it pumping jets of hot cum into her cunt and she came again. Another tentacle pushed its way into her mouth and began to pump cum down her throat and she came again. And again when the one in her bottom filled her bowels full of copious amounts of seed. And then, when she thought it impossible that she climax again, she did. Not just once more, not just twice, but thrice, during which she went limp and passed out.
What happened after that, she could not say. Nor how long she was unconscious. When she awoke, she was covered entirely in cum. Not only that, but it dripped from her cunt and her bottom and her mouth (it tasted oddly like toasted marshmallows she decided, somewhat surprised). She lay upon the edge of a large pool of water upon a small grassy knoll, beside the path she’d been travelling, or so she thought, for the bridge upon which she’s been attacked was no longer in sight. Sitting up unsteadily, and then rising to her feet, she surveyed her surroundings, spying a stand of trees not too far distant.
Other than being sore in all the places one would be sore if they’d been ravished by a tentacled creature risen from waters of a rather large pool, she didn’t seem to be harmed in any way, and so, she set off, once again, upon the path which seemed to be leading her towards the copse of what appeared to be young oaks, thinking to herself that it would be nice to find a secluded cottage nearby, in which lived a kindly old woman who would offer her tea and cakes and perhaps a proper meal before offering her a warm bed with plump pillows and soft cozy blankets so that she could get a proper night’s sleep and, perhaps, dream of sheep standing lazily upon a grassy hillside.
“But this being Wonderland, I am most assuredly not going to find anything of the kind,” she said with a sigh as she made her way slowly towards the oak trees, pausing, her brow furrowed as she caught what sounded like raucous voices carried on the wind. They seemed to be singing, although what, she couldn’t guess, for she was too far away to hear either the words or the melody clearly.
“I suppose I should take a look,” she decided, for voices meant the possibility of food and drink and, while it was all fine and good to talk to oneself, she’d never considered herself a particularly witty conversationalist and it would be a nice change to have someone else to talk with.
And so, she continued on, her stomach growling with each step, until the words of the song began to become clear. Someone was singing a birthday song, only it wasn’t exactly a birthday song. It was, in fact, an un-birthday song, which seemed rather strange to Alice.
‘But it would be even stranger if it did not seem strange,’ she thought to herself. ‘Oh, I do hope this means there will be cake, whether it be birthday cake or un-birthday cake! I’d best hurry, in case it’s all been eaten before I arrive!’
And so, without further ado, she did just that.
