The orgasm that ripped through her almost tore her into pieces. It nearly drove her to madness. It left her sobbing as she hung from the ceiling by her wrists. It reduced her limbs to jelly and lit her cunt on fire. When the screams died down they were replaced by whimpers. Fiona held her while the Master of Spanking lowered her to the floor. She was left babbling and crying, a myriad of fluids coating her bare flesh. Her nipples throbbed. Her ass ached and burned. Her cunt wept.

“Good girl,” her hulking tormentor told her as he replaced the final crop on the wall.  “Punishment done.”

“Thank you,” She whispered.

Grinning he fingered one of the whips. It was thin and it looked like it was decorated with thorns. Alice shuddered at the sight.

“Next time?”

“Next time,” she told him, promising herself that there wouldn’t be a next time. Fiona kissed her, though, and her resolve began to waver.

“Next time.” She said managed before returning her kiss.

She didn’t recall falling asleep. Nor did she recall her dreams, although there were vague visions of her head in Fiona’s lap and of being bathed and then tucked into the most comfortable feather bed she’d ever imagined. When she woke, however, she discovered it was only that. A dream. She was clean, at least. And someone had put a blanket over her. Peaking beneath it, she winced. She was still naked and her tits and ass were still sore, though the marks of the crop seem to have faded.

“Pleasant dreams?”

A very large and familiar grin appeared suddenly. Hovering just beyond her feet was the Cheshire.

“Where were you when I needed you?” she asked crossly, her arms folded beneath her breasts as she scowled at him.

“Here. There. Everywhere. And you were doing fine on your own, Alice.”

The smile was joined by a pair of cat-like eyes and a tail. Nothing more.

“Where am I now?”

“Exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“I’m supposed to be in my room. At home. With my family. Not lost in this place. This mad wonderland.” If she had been standing, she would have stomped her foot on the floor. Instead, she squinted her eyes angrily, hoping it was as effective at conveying her ire.  

The cat’s tail twitched as the rest of him appeared. “Are you?”

“You are so vexing at times, Cheshire.”

“It’s my nature, Alice.”

She let out a sigh and sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest in a modicum of modesty.

“I don’t suppose you have any advice for me?”

“Be yourself.”

“I mean, about what to do next, where to go. I’m not even sure where I am.” She pouted, shrugging as she surveyed her surroundings. It didn’t look at all familiar. The last thing that was remembered was the small room in which she’d been spanked. That room had hardwood floors and spanking implements hanging from the wall. And a winch. This place had none of those. It had furniture, for once. Such as the divan she found herself lying upon. And it had wallpaper and carpets and painting upon the walls. And a grandfather clock in one corner and a chess board set out upon a table against the far wall. Above it was a large mirror.

“The chessboard looks familiar,” she mused, swinging her legs around so that she could stand. The carpeting felt lovely under her bare feet.

“Does it,” the cat said with amusement.

“Oh, dash and bother. Of course, it does. It’s fathers.”

“Look closer, Alice. Not everything is as it appears.”

He faded out, then, leaving her alone. Sighing she stood, the blanket wrapped around her as she moved across the room, curiosity filling her. It looked like father's and yet, it didn’t. The board was the same. It was the pieces that were different.

Idly she picked up one of the black rooks. Mister Hammer. One of the orderlies from the hospital ward. She recoiled, dropping it on the lush carpeting as memories of her time in the ward came crashing in, heart pounding as she examined the remaining pieces. The bishops resembled Doctors Carpenter and Paine. One of the knights was clearly Mistress Sinclair while the other looked like her sister. Eerily, the king and queen reminded her of mother and father. As for the pawns?

“Why, they are me. Each and every one. Curiouser and curiouser. And the white pieces resemble the denizens of Wonderland. There’s The Knave and the Queen of Hearts. Cheshire and Caterpillar.

Hatter and Hare. And I do believe the towers are Dum and Dee!”  

Picking up one of the white pawns, she held it in the palm of her hand, letting it roll from side to side. Once again, the pawns are likenesses of me. I can’t help but wonder if this is meant as some sort of message. A riddle perhaps or a clue. Most perplexing indeed.

Looking upwards she examined her reflection in the mirror, turning her head from side to side, still clutching the blanket about her slim form.

“I don’t look any different, but then changes are less noticeable than changes without. While I still look like Alice and feel like Alice I know that the Alice that sat upon the river bank full as her sister read would hardly recognize who she’s become since her (or rather, since my) adventures began. It seems like ages ago and yet I don’t believe it’s been but a month or perhaps too since I plunged into the stream so as to more closely examine that miniature Galleon.”

She paused, glancing around the room once more. Nothing, besides the chessboard, was familiar. And yet, it felt like it should be. On a whim, she decided that, while the Alice she had been would maintain her modesty and hide her nakedness, despite the fact that there was no one here to see observer her, the Alice that she had become would not only not care, but might even flaunt it. She released the blanket, letting it gather around her feet before stepping free, once more glancing into the mirror.

”Why yes, I am naked. And no, I am not embarrassed, In fact, I believe that I am rather proud of how I look and, if I do say so myself, which I do, I appear quite desirable. That said, I can’t help but wonder if there’s a wardrobe about. Should I decide to explore the rest of the house as well as the grounds, strutting about naked might not be entirely practical so I shall try to avoid it if possible.

That decided, she looked about the room, spying both a wardrobe that looked promising as well as a small closet.

I hope this room doesn’t belong to an old dowager aunt who buys everything in shades of brown but rather someone stylish, although from the décor I am guessing that the truth lies somewhere in-between.”

The truth did lie somewhere in between, just as Alice surmised. While nothing in beige awaited her, neither did bright colors such as a peacock might envy. What she did find was some very sensible dresses fashioned from pastel fabrics.

“I guess it was too much to wish for something more eye-catching.”

Pouting briefly she dressed, deciding that to make up for the lack of naughtiness in the dress she chose she would go without a shift or knickers.

“If anyone catches wind of what I am wearing, or rather not wearing, beneath my dress it will cause quite a commotion, don’t you think?” she commented to her reflection as she carefully brushed the tangles from her thick blond tresses, half expecting it to reply.

“I am either no longer in wonderland or I am and it’s being as perverse as usual about following the rules,” she decided, “Either way I shall have to follow my own advice as best as I can and not rely on others. I suppose I should put on stockings…”

Settling in one of the chairs at the chessboard and planting her elbow firmly upon the table and her chin firmly upon her fist she began moving the pieces around as if playing an opponent, making moves for both sides for several turns until one of the pawns with her likeness on it was captured.

“That’s no good,” she decided out loud. “I am enjoying my newfound freedom too much to let myself be caught again.” She replaced the white pawn back upon the board. “I think I would like to explore the rest of the house. Would you care to join me?:” Once again she addressed her reflection. And once again there was no answer forthcoming.

“Wherever I am, I am very droll,” she told herself before trying the door leading, presumably, into a hallway.

She had presumed correctly. The door led to a hallway. A rather mundane hallway at that. The plaster on the walls had been painted beige with spidery cracks running through it. There was a doorway at the far end and two on her right. Midway was a small table adorned with a vase containing daisies which were in desperate need of watering. Above it was a picture of a cottage. Had she been an art critic she would have given it a most savage critique and perhaps suggested that the artist find another craft to pursue. It was simply awful.

To her left was a narrow staircase leading down. Alice paused to peer down the stairs. They turned sharply so that she couldn’t see into the room below.  “I suppose I shall explore methodically and try the first door. I would certainly hate to miss anything interesting by skipping ahead.”

Testing the knob which, disappointingly did not talk, she discovered it to be locked.

“Dash and bother. This is no good.” It was then that she spied a set of keys tucked away behind the vase. Plucking them from the table triumphantly, she tried first one, and then another, until she found a key that not only fit, but turned the tumblers. Slipping the key into one of the pockets of her dress (it had two, one for each hand) she pushed the door open slowly and peeked within, expecting wallpaper and carpeting and comfortable if boring furniture and perhaps a picture or two upon the walls.

“If you expect nothing you can never be disappointed,” she announced sagely as she stepped into a room decorated with wallpaper and paintings on the wall and a beige rug. Against one wall was a bed and against another a single chair. No windows, she noted. In fact, she had yet to get a glimpse of the world outside the house if, indeed, there was one.

“Of course, there is one. Any other notion is simply silly. What kind of a world, however, I would like to know. One as mundane as this house seems to be? Or perhaps this house is out of character and the world outside is vibrant and exciting.”

Pausing, she thought back on her recent adventures and decided to amend her statement. “Reasonably exciting, that is. I have weathered enough dangerous situations for a lifetime already! Oh, and is that my tummy rumbling? I can’t recall the last time I ate. I do hope there is a well-stocked pantry somewhere about. Better yet, a bakery on a bustling and busy street. Perhaps I shall purchase a tart. A tart for a tart,” she said with a blushing giggle.

“Oh, but I have no purse with which to purchase anything,” she realized, her smile diminishing. “Bother. And Dash as well. Nothing to be done for it. In the meantime I still have a house to explore and, since there’s nothing of interest in this room, it’s on to the next!”

Disappointingly, the next room looked almost exactly the same. Same wallpaper, same carpets, even the same bed and chair. Only the pictures hung on the wall were different. She spent scant moments surveying its contents before closing the door behind her and proceeding to the one at the opposite end of the hallway.

“Surely there is something interesting within,” she sighed hopefully. “Although I am beginning to have my doubts that I’ll find anything to satisfy my interest at this juncture.”

Unlocking the door she discovered that she was wrong in her assumptions. Delightfully so, for the door opened up upon a reading room, one lined with bookshelves filled with more books than she’d ever seen on one place. Clapping her hands together she stood staring in wonder at the treasures within. Not just books, but padded chairs and tables adorned with all manner of diversions. Mostly gewgaws and such. She spotted a snowglobe upon one, as well as a cigar box and a pair of spectacles. Upon other were several carvings of exotic animals made of ivory. A candy bowl made of blue glass sat out as did a pair of figurines of knights in armor. Upon one table sat a globe. From where she stood the land masses seemed to take unfamiliar shapes. Several of the tables held lamps decorated with glass crystals. She spotted a letter opener carved from obsidian. The handle was decorated with glass beads.  Next to it sat a pile of unopened letters.

The walls were similarly decorated. There were paintings and some artifacts. A shield that looked like it might have been imported from the dark continent. A pair of spears as well. She noticed a musket and several strangely curved swords and the heads of animals she had only ever read about, stuffed and mounted, their glittering eyes seeming to stare accusingly at her. Nervously she approached one, noticing a brass plate beneath it.

“Panthera sondaica balica,” she read out loud, careful not to get too close for its fierce expression was most unsettling and there was something about its eyes that seemed most unnatural. A flicker of intelligence, perhaps, one that had no place in a stuffed and mounted trophy.

“I don’t suppose you can hear me.”

“I don’t suppose you have anything to say worth listening to,” it responded, giving her a startle.

“You can talk!”

“Obviously.”

Not quite liking his attitude, nor his disposition, not to mention his teeth which looked to be very sharp and made for the purpose of eating young ladies such as herself, she took another step back before continuing to converse. Perhaps it might have answers to her questions, of which she had many.

“I don’t suppose you know where we are?”

The tiger, or rather its head, snorted disdainfully.

“A reading room. Just look around. Even the dullest of humans should know that.”

Alice narrowed her eyes in a glare, thinking him quite rude, and then relented. Perhaps she had asked the wrong question.

“I do know that we are in a reading room which, in turn, is within a house. I am wondering what is outside of the house. Is it a country house or does it reside within a town, perhaps, or a city and if so, what is the name of the town, or city? And furthermore, what is the name of the country that the town, or city, is part of?”

“We’re in Turvy, I reckon,” a nearby voice called out. Turning, Alice was greeted by the head of a rather large bear with white fur.

“I have never heard of Turvy. Is it near London?” she wondered out loud.

“London? Never heard of it. Nearest city is Topsy, or so I’ve heard. Never been there myself.”

“Are we at least in England?”

“London? England?” the tiger rejoined the conversation. “They’re just myths, silly girl. Like Paris or Rome or Greece. Just made up places.”

“We’re in Ock,” the bear added helpfully.

“I have never heard of Ock,” Alice admitted. Perhaps I can find it on a map” Recalling the globe she had seen earlier, she hurried over to the table upon which it sat and studied it. As she had suspected, the map upon it was quite unfamiliar as were the names. It took her several minutes of slowly turning the globe until she found Ock. It shared a border with Ick, which made her shake her head and smile.

“Ick Ock. Of course. Like a clock. It makes perfect sense in a world full of nonsense.”

“Nothing is what it is, Alice, because everything is what it isn’t. if you want sense you’ll have to make it yourself.”

Unsurprisingly the Cheshire had decided to show up at that precise moment, curling up on a nearby chair. She glanced over, surprised to see him fully formed and not just a smile.

“I don’t suppose Wonderland can be found on this globe.

“Perhaps you’re not looking in the right place.”

She spun the globe slowly, reading the names of countries unfamiliar to her as she went. As she suspected Wonderland was nowhere to be found. Exasperated she settled in one of the overstuffed leather chairs, her legs sprawled out before her, and shoved her hands into her pockets.

“I fear I am even more lost than I was, Cheshire.”

“It is because you don’t know where you’re going. If you knew that, you wouldn’t be lost.”

Taking a moment to ponder, she decided that, for once, Cheshire made perfect sense. If she was being quite honest, he often made sense only much of it was disguised as nonsense. Sighing she watched her toes wiggle, or rather, she wiggled her toes thinking it might help her think more clearly.

“Where am I going, I wonder?”

“Now you are asking the right questions. I would suggest finding the right answers next.” And then he was gone again.

“I don’t suppose I might find them in here.” Searching her pockets she found only the keys which she had discovered earlier. A sudden thought took hold and she sat up straight. She was, after all, in a reading room full of books and tomes and manuscripts. Surely one of them held answers to her questions.

“Where to begin?” she wondered, gazing around the room. There must be hundreds of books to look through. “Why, at the beginning, of course!” And with that, she began…

oOo

“I never did eat,” she mumbled, her tummy rumbling loudly. “Perhaps I should amend that.”

While she hadn’t yet gotten any answers to any of her questions, she had discovered quite a lot concerning the Empire of Landran, the history of cheese, how to build a velocipede, the Fresco-Saltern wars, The life of President Benjamin Tuttle, the hunting and mating habits of the Western Snark, and read a great deal of poetry as well as several short stories by Alexandra Chopinksy, A history of the Anzule Isles, Art of the fourteenth and sixteenth century, The writings of St. Archibald of Naterwald, The philosophy of Mankopf, the life and times of Harold Bare, the myths and legends of Shuvan the elder, The war of 1221, and selected chapters of an incredibly lurid novel by J.O. Simmons which, had she been wearing any, would have made her knickers quite damp. As it was she couldn’t resist taking a much-needed break and settling down in a nearby leather chair. The arms were perfectly situated to put her spread legs over as she hiked up the hem of her dress and read a particular erotic passage out loud as she pleasured herself towards an orgasm...

“Carlyle attached a lead to the diamond-studded choker around Tess’s slender throat,” she read quietly, her voice quavering with anticipation as she hiked the hem of her dress past her moist pussy. “Down on your hands and knees where you belong. From now on you will be my bitch. Understood? Tess whined softly, falling easily into her role as Carlyle’s dog, relishing the humiliation she felt as she was forced to walk along behind him on hands and knees wearing only a collar, her most intimate attributes fully on display. While inside the mansion, only he could witness her debasement, she couldn’t help but fantasize that a guest might come calling or that he might dare to show her off in a public outing. The very thought made her shiver and shake with desire. She felt her gash – oh, that’s a new one. I shall have to remember it. It sounds quite dirty!” Alice decreed, interrupting herself.

Pausing, she struggled out of her dress, feeling the need to be completely naked. Briefly, she glanced at the heads mounted on the wall, wondering if they could see her. Were they watching? What did they think of her antics? Were they judging her? “I am a tart, after all, and this is how tarts behave,” she announced defiantly before continuing to read.

“She felt her gash well up with cream, the scent filling the room. Surely Carlyle noticed. Your slutty little slit betrays you, Tess, he teased, giving the lead a soft tug as they approached the kitchen. My slutty little puppy must surely be hungry. She is worse than me,” Alice murmured, one hand between her thighs, her fingers teasing her nub from its hiding place as her nipples began to swell and ache.

“Carlyle filled a bowl with water and another with shredded chicken and set them down on the floor in front of his dog. Be a good girl and clean them for me. And then we can go play, Tess. Woof! Knowing her place she pushed her face into the bowl and began to eat, taking an occasional drink of water to help wash them down.”

“Oh, I imagine her gash was dripping and drooling all over the tiles,” Alice mumbled, whimpering as she plunged a pair of dainty fingers into her own dripping drooling gash. “Oh, I wish to be treated so as well.”

She continued, panting softly as she turned the page.

“That’s a good girl, Carlyle told her as he undid his trousers and freed his cock. Tess whined softly, her eyes going large. It was huge. Massive might be the word. Yet, she still wanted it. Wanted it badly inside her quivering quim. Suck it, he told her. Obediently she took it in her mouth, her drool sliding down her chin as she began to suck on his rock-hard member, gasping as he began to push it further and further into her mouth until the bulbous head filled her throat.”

“Fuck me,” Alice said, not at all apologetic that she used such language. After all, there was no to judge her. “Come in her mouth, Carlyle. Fill her belly up with your cream. Fuck her face and make her your bitch.”

Apparently, she and Carlyle were on the same page (quite literally she thought as she turned the next page, eager to find out what came next. Or rather who came next).

“Carlyle led her upstairs, tugging at her lead when she went too slowly, admonishing her to keep up.”

Alice closed her eyes, imagining the scene. In her version, Tess was blond and had Alice’s face and tits and ass and name. “What are you going to do? We mustn’t ruin the surprise by telling you, Carlyle responded. Spank her. You should spank her. And then use her ass. Fill her ass up with your cum, Carlyle. Make her beg for it first,” she managed between moans as she imagined him doing just that, not to Tess, but to her.

“Carlyle removed several lengths of rope from a trunk. Yes, tie your bitch down first. She will protest, but don’t listen to her. It’s what she wants. What she needs, Carlyle… Oh, god, too soon, I can’t, I mustn’t, I’m a bad girl… Oh yes, yes yes!”

Alice felt herself giving in to desire, her lust overcoming her as she rapidly drove her fingers into her cunt – her gash! – over and over, the book sliding from its resting place upon her tits to the floor as she erupted in orgasmic pleasure, her soft cries, accompanied by the sound of her fingers driving in and out of her squishy cunt, were the only sounds in the room for a full minute. Perhaps more. And then silence, only her panting breaths marring the silence.

She’d fallen asleep. Or passed out, perhaps. She wondered if they were the same thing or somehow different? When she awoke or came to, she was sprawled naked in the large chair, the leather beneath her slick with her cum, a string of drool hanging from her chin.

“How very unladylike, and yet, Natural, not to mention comfortable. I should really get back to the task at hand if I truly wish to find any answers but what was the question again? I do believe I have forgotten it.”  At that precise moment, her tummy rumbled. Not a soft dainty rumble but a demanding one.

“Perhaps I should find something to eat. Maybe it will help me remember,” she decided, gathering up her dress and pulling it down over her head and shoulders so that, once again, she was presentable if not decent. “I fear that I shall never be decent again,” Alice mused, shrugging. It wasn’t said with a frown, however, but a smile. “I must admit, I am enjoying my indecency much more than I’ve been led to believe.”

And with that thought, she smoothed her dress down over her bare things with her hands and exited the room with a song on her lips, one she’d just made up that conveyed perfectly how she was feeling at that exact moment.

“I’d rather be a tart than a good girl. Tarts have more fun after all. I’d rather be naughty than behave. Naughty girls get to cum after all.”

With a spring in her step, she fairly bounced down the stair, hoping that the lower floor might provide substance for her empty belly whilst idly imagining what it would feel like to be led around on a lead and made to drink out of a bowl like a bitch.

“I think I would like it very much,” she decided as she descended, still humming her improvised song rather than paying attention to what lay at the bottom of the narrow staircase which proved to be her undoing.