Eventually, Alice awoke. Not before experiencing a rather strange and yet vaguely familiar dream. The floor beneath her was made of bronze, and mostly obscured by a thick mist. Like she remembered from the last time, the platform resembled a giant sundial, although there was a distinct lack of sunshine, making it impossible to tell if it was closer to midnight or noon. Shadows, however, there was no lack of. Deep dark shadows of crimson and violet, swirling around her feet like tentacled sea monsters searching for prey.

“Dash and bother,” Alice exclaimed, standing perfectly still, wondering if they might sense movement. “I would have preferred to wake up in a perfectly proper feather bed with a tea pot and a cup upon a tray upon my lap. As they say, however, if wishes here horses… oh, how does that go?”

“Then fishes might fly,” a soft masculine voice answered.

“No. Not that,” Alice answered thoughtfully, taking a moment to compose herself as best she could. She was dressed in a pale blue cottage dress trimmed with white lace and matching slippers. Her hair was tied back in a single braid with a bow. What color, she could only guess at. Blue seemed to make sense.

“Not that anything makes sense here.”

“Not entirely true.” This time, although sounding similar, the voice sounded feminine.

“I suppose, in a non-sensical way, everything makes perfect sense.”

“Exactly.” The masculine voice again as the shadows at her feet rose, forming into a pair of creatures that resembled the squid she had seen at the market on occasion, or at least they had strange-looking heads that resembled fleshy arrowheads and several tentacles where one would expect arms and a quartet of legs with padded feet where one would expect legs, all covered with small suckers. One’s flesh reminded her of purple velvet while the other's was shiny and crimson.

“Although, some things make more sense than others.”

“Such as you. You make very little sense.”

“My sister is cross. Pay her no mind. We weren’t expecting guests.”

“I’d have put a kettle on. And put out biscuits.”

“She makes the best ink and kelp biscuits.”

“I don’t doubt that. Oh, where have my manners gone. I am Alice.“

Alice was about to finish with a polite curtsy when an eerie hissing broke the eerie silence of the fog, sending goosebumps up and down her arms and, apparently, alarming the squid-like creatures.

“Flee for your life!”

“Hide!”

Violet and crimson shadows swirled through the fog, only, instead of scampering off and leaving her to face whatever danger approached – alone - they swirled up under the hem of her dress and clung to her legs, their suckers opening and closing nervously, pulling at her flesh. It actually felt quite nice. Nice enough to distract her from the apparent danger that had alarmed them. The far-off hissing that seemed to be drawing slowly nearer. Like a hunter stalking its prey.

“Maybe I can conjure up a weapon. It is, after all, a dream,” she mumbled breathlessly. One of the creatures had decided to crawl higher. Remembering the squid, she’d imagined that their touch might be slimy, but instead it was slightly cool. And wet. Wet like the natural lubrication of her pussy. She did her best to concentrate on conjuring a weapon rather than the extremely pleasant feeling of tentacles gripping the insides of her thighs and the curves of her hip, both sets slowly moving upward.

Thankfully, she was able to form a sword made of light. And not just a sword, but a shield as well.  A moment later she felt the cool touch of tentacles upon her breasts and outer lips, almost breaking her concentration.

“If I’m to die, at least I’ll die… oh, god, that feels so good…” she managed, breathlessly. “Concentrate, Alice!  Then beggars would ride. That’s it. If wishes were horses then beggars would ride,” Alice announced to an unseen audience. For an audience she had, despite it being invisible. The one hidden beneath her dress, teasing her until her breathing grew ragged and her cunt began to flood with the fragrant scent of need and the one that threw shadows upon the fog, forming the shape of some sort of mishappen monster. One that hissed and clicked as it paused before her.

Terrified, Alice held perfectly still, fingers gripping and trembling as she attempted to hold her sword out before her, her shield pulled in close against her chest. She recalled a trip to the British Museum once. She’d been fascinated by the mummies. And the insects. Strange species from all over the world, carefully pinned and curated and identified by their scientific names. All in Latin, naturally. Heterometrus longimanus.  The Black Scorpion. That’s what she was facing. Only… much bigger. One other thing that was different than she remembered. Its tail ended with not a stinger, but a phallus-shaped tip that wasn’t quite as menacing.

“Curious,” she murmured, her voice trembling as suckers found, not only her nipples, but the little pleasure button hidden way between her thighs. Briefly she wondered if she should ask the squid-like creatures to pinch her into wakefulness but the giant scorpion distracted her with a menacing-sounding hiss, causing her to raise the tip of her sword and  pull her shield closer.

“Go away,” she demanded, her voice shaking, sniffing the air. Curiouser and curiouser, the smell of freshly baked gingerbread permeated the fog…

She tried again, gathering up her courage. “Leave. Now!”

She stood her ground, trying to keep her knees from trembling and her legs from betraying her. She could feel a familiar sensation roiling between her thighs. A most inopportune time to have an orgasm.

“Stop that,” she whimpered, but it was too late. She felt herself being pushed to the brink, suckers sucking her clit, her nipples, tentacles pushing into her slick pussy as if to hide from the horror that stood, watching her, in the fog.

“I mean it, stop that this very… oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh…”

She came. Hard. The tip of her sword dropped to the ground, clanging against the bronze plate softly.

Afterwards. Other than Alice’s ragged breathing and soft whimpers, there was silence. The scorpion had stopped hissing. The squidlings beneath her dress had gone silent. Even the fog seemed to stand still, waiting for something to happen.

“I don’t suppose we could just get this over with,” Alice grumbled, gritting her teeth. As if lifting a spell she felt her dress being vacated hastily as she did her best to bolster her courage – just a smidgeon - and once again, brought the tip of her sword of light up, putting it between her and the monster before her.

The scorpion let out a hiss and clacked its claws together, but was otherwise silent.

“Do you even speak?”

“Not usually,” it managed with a voice sounding rusty with disuse.

“But you can?”

“Yes,” it hissed. Usually I just chase people down. No one’s ever stood up to me before.”

“No one?”

“No one. Never. Not once.”

“And what happens when they run away?”

“Chase them down. It’s fun.”

“Doesn’t sound like fun to me.”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it shrugged, its tail swaying above it hypnotically.

“Maybe not everything’s about you.”

“Maybe not everything is about you.”

Again, it shrugged. “My territory, my rules.”

“But it’s all part of my dream.”

“Is it? Then you should be able to just wake up where ever you came from.”

“I… well, that makes sense.”

Deciding to take his advice to heart, she simply closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was… still standing in the fog, sword in one hand, shield held before her, a menacing black-scaled monster looming over her.

“Guess you’re wrong. See? My territory. My rules.”

“What happens now?” Alice asked, the tip of her sword dipping once more.

“You run. I chase.”

“And then?”

“I catch you.”

Alice frowned, looking the creature over carefully. On one hand, it seemed awfully sure of himself. On the other, she had little doubt that, if she ran, he would catch her. She wondered if she should ask what he’d do with her once he did catch her and decided against it and tried a different tack.

“What if I don’t run?”

It answered by simply opening and closing its claws menacingly so she decided to take the scorpion's advice and run.

Alice, while young and energetic, was no match for the scorpion. She hadn’t even enough time to get out of breath before it caught up with her, grabbing at her dress with one claw and ripping a gaping hole in it. Apparently it had left out the part about playing with her like a cat with a mouse, since it obviously could have caught her and didn’t. Taking a gamble she spun, swinging at it with her sword of light. It simply batted at it with the other claw, knocking it from her hand. She watched, sighing as it spun across the sundial, until it was lost in fog before continuing to run, her heart pounding in her chest as its shadow loomed over her.

Again, she felt her dress tear down the back, exposing her from shoulders to shins. Again she spun, this time thrusting out her shield which quickly joined her sword, lost in the chill mist.

“You run. I catch,” the scorpion repeated, hissing as it reached out and grabbed the neckline of her dress and yanked, pulling her closer and to her knees.

“You have terrible manners,” Alice complained, scrambling back as it loomed over her, its tail raised, the phallus-shaped tip seemingly poised as it tugged harder, spinning her around until she felt quite dizzy.

It let out a hiss of triumph as she attempted to stand, her ruined dress slipping down her body, leaving her wholly and entirely exposed.

“Oh, dear,” she exclaimed, having meant to extrapolate further but was most rudely interrupted when the scorpion struck with its stinger, or at least with the phallus-shaped tip at the end of its tail. It was, Alice decided very quickly, one of the largest pricks she’d ever been pricked with if not the largest. Mentally she attempted to list the pricks she accommodated since her adventure had begun. Master Foxtrot. Or had it been the chess piece? There was the doorknob. And The Tweedles. And the caterpillar. And the Hatter and the Hare. And the Knave of course. And quite a few in between, she reconned,  but her thoughts were currently being muddled and befuddled as she felt her cunny being stretched impossibly wide and she was being properly penetrated with both vim and vigor who, now that she thought of it, might possibly both have penetrated her poor pussy as well.

“Dash and bother. I can hardly recall my own name let alone that of those who’ve abused my cunt,” she managed, thinking that it would be the perfect opportunity to stamp her foot in exclamation or, perhaps, the perfect opportunity to stop thinking so much and simply accept that fact that she was on the verge of climaxing. Once she’d made up her mind to dwell less on the past and more on the present she was rewarded by a very powerful orgasm. One that started in her toes, making them curl and twitch before traveling up her legs and making them shake and shiver before pausing in her pussy and making it drool – much like she was currently doing, her saliva running down her chin and coating her breasts and her incredibly sensitive nipples.

"Oh, dear,” she moaned, her orgasm not only taking hold between her thighs but in her head, suddenly overwhelming her to the point where she wondered if it was possible for her brain to actually melt or if too much pleasure could actually cause death or if she cared one whit or another if the answer to either question was ‘yes’.

She screamed, not with pain, but with ecstasy, her nubile thighs clamped around the scorpion's tail as it fucked her quite senseless as her climax crested over and over becoming two, then three, then four, and finally five before her lashes began to flutter and she decided that the only proper reaction to such an event was to faint, which she did immediately, a black miasma wrapping itself around her like a nice warm blanket and lulling her into a dream of a different sort or, one that transported her to Wonderland once more