by Selena Kitt
Then the picture went back to black, and the Red Queen cried out, “Consent! We have consent!”
“Wait—” Alice struggled. She’d almost forgotten her restraints, that the king was still holding her in the bulk of his arms.
“No time for that now.” The king stomped hard on the floor with one foot and Alice felt things began to change beneath her. The floor itself was moving. No, it was softening, melting, turning into some other substance. She expected to look down and see herself covered in some sort of goo, but the stuff was solid and it cushioned her feet. It was strange, impossible, but true.
The king let her go and she stood, still manacled, in the middle of the dias. He walked around the edge of it, studying her naked body. Alice flushed and went to cover herself, but the instant she even thought about it, the leads on her restraints tightened and prevented the motion.
“I need to go home.” Alice saw the Red King flash by out of the corner of her eye. He was behind her now but not touching her. “Have you seen my driver?”
“What driver?” His voice, behind her. “What do you want your safe word to be, Alice?”
“He had white gloves on. And a hat. He was very tall,” she explained. His hand moved over her shoulder, his touch light, but his palm huge. “My safe word?”
“The white rabbit?” the king inquired. She gasped when he cupped her breast, kneading the firm flesh in his fingers. “Yes, dear, your safe word. You do know what one is, don’t you?”
“White rabbit?” Alice asked, confused, trying to ignore the tingling sensation from her nipple to her crotch as he manipulated it between thumb and finger.
“Well, it’s strange, but it will do,” the king said with a laugh. “White rabbit it is.”
“Wait—” Alice said again, but it was too late, far too late. Behind her, the king had disrobed. She felt the heat from his body and the press of his cock, thick and huge, against her hip. “What are you doing?”
“From now on, the Red Queen asks the questions.” The king reached down between her legs and cupped her mound from behind. Alice had shaved smooth for Wade and her vulva was soft as velvet in his hand. “And I do all the dirty work.”
“I like the dirty work,” he confessed, his fingers parting her lips, dipping in, testing the waters. Then he lifted her like that, in one hand, tilting her hips with the flick of his wrist, and she found herself suspended spread-eagle by silver thread, attached from her restraints to the ceiling. She had time to wonder how things had turned upside down—the string had gone from manacle to floor just moments before—but the strain on her arms and legs, carrying the fullness of her weight, grew painful almost immediately.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can.” He whispered the words into her ear, which was at mouth-level as he stood beside her. “But she is watching.”
“It hurts,” Alice gasped, trying to turn away from or into the pain in her limbs.
“It’s supposed to!” The Red Queen sang from somewhere below them. How could she possible see? Alice wondered. They were far off the ground and she was down there. She turned her head from side to side and then she saw it, a glimmer of light below—another transmission, this one showing the scene above displayed on the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw herself suspended, nude, helpless.
The king made some motion and Alice sighed in relief as the strings holding her up drew closer together on the ceiling. She couldn’t see where they were attached, no pulleys or levers. They seemed to disappear in to the red and white material above with no fastening at all. The affect was both good and bad. Her limbs were still holding her own weight, but they were drawn together now, arms parallel with her legs and perpendicular to the floor. It left her body jackknifed and her unable to see, except peripherally, what was going on around her.
“Such sweet skin.” The king had something to pet her with. She couldn’t tell at first what it was, the touch was so light over the backs of her thighs, behind her knees. “Like peaches and cream.”
But when the first blow fell near her hip, she recognized the implement immediately. A riding crop. It was one of Wade’s favorite toys.
Alice howled when the crop bit her behind a second and third time, leaving a burning sting. Below her, the queen mimicked her response, howling back, the sound making an echo. It was painfully humiliating, knowing she was not only being punished, but that someone was watching—and enjoying it.
But this is a test, she reminded herself, thinking of Wade. He’d asked her to say yes to this, yes to him. This was part of it, and so she would submit. She would have done anything for him. Maddie would call her crazy, or maybe she would come up for a name for the hormone in her brain responsible for the way she felt, but Alice knew the truth. She wanted Wade, and she wanted what he wanted for her.
“Oh Alice, that’s lovely.” The riding crop came down again, but this time she didn’t cry out. Her body relaxed and the moment she let go, she realized how tense she had been, how much she had been fighting against her restraints.
The king knew just what he was doing. She didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but he was almost better than Wade in his technique. He knew just when to deliver a sting, followed by the soft pet of the leather, and then two more, quick, on one side, then three on the other. He kept her guessing, anticipating, soothing her at turns and then going back at her with great force.
He was warming her up. And it was working. She could feel herself giving into it, floating away on the sensation. The king seemed to sense the shift in her because he slid the riding crop’s leather end between her pussy lips, making her gasp and twist and moan. There was nothing she could do to stop him. Her legs were pressed together, but her pussy was completely exposed to him between her thighs, plump and ripe as a peach.
The flat edge of the leather crop snapped against the top of her cleft and Alice whimpered, twisting, not knowing if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted more. The sensation was something between pain and pleasure, a feeling she knew all too well. Then the other end of the riding crop, the hard handle, found its way between her swollen lips, the tip trailing up and down, teasing her clit and then her hole, back and forth.
“She likes that.” The king’s voice sounded distant to her, but Alice knew she was far away, transported somewhere else, giving into her own need. Her body was on fire with it. She clutched her ankles as the riding crop slipped inside of her, slow and easy, her breath hot and panting against the flesh of her knees. Moaning, she tried to rock to meet the object fucking her but had no leverage, no range of motion. She was powerless.
“Please,” she whispered, knowing better, but she wanted it more than she could say. The crop was removed almost immediately and the business end came down against her bottom, hard, the sound echoing in the room.
SMACK
Alice whimpered and then wailed when another blow fell and then another, teaching her the lesson swiftly, in staccato beats. SMACK SMACK SMACK. They rained down like stinging leather kisses, leaving her bottom in a hot, fiery mess.
She heard the Red Queen laughing somewhere. “Can you do addition, Alice?” she called, still giggling. “What's one and one and one and one and one and...”
“I don’t know, I lost count!” Alice moaned, sinking her teeth into her own flesh, biting her knees to send sensation somewhere else besides her sore behind. And as suddenly as the storm began, it was over. The crop was gone, but so was the Red King. She was left alone, hanging, aching, waiting. Alice rested, panting, wanting to cry but holding back her tears. Is this what Wade had wanted? Was he watching her from somewhere? No other man had ever touched her this way. She had never given herself to anyone like this before. Was this her test?
Alice gasped when the threads attached to her restraints began to move. They spread her legs apart and when Alice peered between them she saw the Red King standing there, larger than life, hands on hips, completely nude. His cock was enormous and already covered with a strange lime-green colored co
ndom. At least she hoped it was a condom.
Part of her wanted to beg, plead, tell him no, the same part of her that wanted to save herself for Wade and only him, but she remembered him telling her to say “yes,” on the video. And if she was honest with herself, just seeing the length and breadth and thrust of the king as he stroked himself while he looked at her, Alice wanted to be fucked. She had wanted to be tied and punished. She wanted nothing more than to surrender to this giant man’s will, his insistent need for her.
So when he lifted her behind with both hands, bringing her pussy to his mouth, she quivered under his attention and gave into whatever he wanted to do. His tongue made delicious circles over her aching clit, drawing it out like a bee taking honey. She almost sobbed with relief, feeling her orgasm building in the tremble of her thighs and belly. When his big fingers slid into her, she gave him her juices in a torrential flood, coming so hard she bucked against her restraints, feeling her connective tissue straining as she arched and spread for him.
“You threaten to drown us all.” He chuckled, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he stood between her thighs. His face was covered with her slick wetness. She whimpered as he continued to rub her throbbing clit, eliciting shuddering aftershocks for his cock’s delight. The head of it was pressed against her hole, poised at the entrance, aimed and ready, but waiting.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Alice?”
She looked at him through a blurry haze of lust, her body singing with it like a tuning fork. She couldn’t tell him no. Even if she’d wanted to—and she decidedly did not—the word “no” wouldn’t come from her throat.
She groaned and gave in to it. “Yes. Oh yes, please.”
“What do you want?” he asked again. Snapping his fingers, something appeared, another string or thread, and there was a silver thing attached to it. Alice watched as he slipped something over the nub of her hard, pink nipple.
She squealed when she felt it tighten.
“What do you want?” He snapped his fingers again and this time she knew what would appear, where it would go, how she would writhe and moan and grit her teeth.
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered, eyes half-closed, feeling the throbbing promise of his cock between her thighs.
“No.” He chuckled, tweaking her nipple, and the thing tightened again. She squeaked in surprise, biting her lip to draw sensation away from the spot. “Tell me what you really want.”
What did she really want? She wanted Wade. She wanted a forever life with him, doing whatever he wanted to do, as long as she could follow him. She wanted to love and be loved, to give herself completely, to empty herself, body, mind and soul, and then to be filled up again with him.
Alice moaned when he tweaked both nipples, as if tuning a radio dial, tightening the fasteners and sending hot waves of pain and pleasure down between her thighs.
“I want…” she whispered, feeling his hips shifting, just barely, teasing her with the mushroom head of his cock. Wade, I love you, this is all for you, everything for you. She closed her eyes and let herself go limp. “To surrender.”
He gave a low, triumphant growl and thrust deep, taking her pussy to the hilt and then digging in a little more. Alice cried out in surprise. She’d anticipated the size of him, but not quite enough. He began to fuck her, using long, teasing strokes, his big hands gripping her hips so hard she knew she would have bruises on the soft flesh of her behind.
Her nipples were tingling, going nearly numb from the pressure of the silver clamps there. Her arms ached from being suspended, but at least he had her hips, relieving some of the pressure at the juncture between her thighs. He began to thrust harder, faster, and Alice thought it would be over soon—far too soon. But that wasn’t up to her. He could take his pleasure as he liked it. Her pleasure or pain was his choice.
Alice felt the world slipping and opened her eyes in alarm. The silver threads were moving again and she moved with them, like a puppet on strings. They lowered her head toward the floor until her shoulders rested on the strange, softly gelatinous stuff that had materialized on the dias. She sighed in relief as her arms fell free to her sides. Her body was now at a forty-five degree angle, half-suspended from the ceiling, and the king’s gaze swept over her as he plunged between her thighs.
She watched him fuck her, the hot pounding of his cock shaking the whole dias beneath them. She wanted more, needed more, but couldn’t speak. She didn’t want to be punished again. There was nothing to do but give in, no matter what happened.
“Sweet Alice.” The Red King was on top of her now, all of the strings gone slack, even the ones around her nipples. The sensation burned there, quicksilver, sending shockwaves between her legs. He used fast, hard thrusts, and she couldn’t help it, she wrapped herself around him and began to rock herself toward climax.
It was like taking the weight of a boulder, a mountain, he was so thick and solid under her hands. She couldn’t even get her legs all the way around his thrusting hips, so she just dug her heels in and arched. He groaned against her ear and began to grind his hips, not so much thrusting now as rutting.
“Please sir.” She dared too much, always, but she couldn’t help her need. She whispered the words, barely moving her lips to speak. “Please make me come.”
He slowed just slightly and swallowed. She heard it. Fully expecting to be suspended and spanked again, she tensed and waited for the inevitable. Instead, he rocked her back with his powerful thighs, shifting her weight and lifting her legs in the air as he knelt between them.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded.
Alice sighed happily, her fingers playing in her own wetness. He watched her, eyes dancing, as she rubbed her clit in circles, panting, eyes closing in blessed relief. From somewhere below them, Alice thought she heard a growl, something animal-like, but she was too distracted to really care.
“Don’t come until I tell you.” He was watching her and enjoying it, she could tell. She’d expected that command—Wade asked it of her often enough. She was practiced at keeping herself hovering at the edge of orgasm, sometimes for hours. She’d found the anticipation sweet, and the longer it went on, the better the reward.
She groaned when he slid out of her pussy but she waited expectantly for his next move. Her fingers never stopped rubbing her little clit though. He moved to straddle her chest, rubbing the wet head of his cock against her swollen red nipples. That made her gasp. Then he shifted further up, sliding off that lime-green covering. It didn’t snap off like a condom and she wondered at the soft mass it made next to them when he tossed it aside and pressed his cock to her lips.
“Suck it, Alice.”
So she did, using tongue and lips and the soft insides of her mouth to caress every glorious inch of him. It was a lovely time. She so enjoyed giving pleasure to a man this way, feeling the involuntary thrust of his hips, the low growl building in his throat. Her pussy was so wet she was dripping juices down the crack of her ass. She had to stop rubbing so fast and instead just used her fingernail to graze her clit, back and forth, keeping herself at the edge of bliss.
“Oh god.” His hand buried itself in her hair as he began to thrust in earnest, fucking her mouth, using it like a tight little cunt for his pleasure. She trembled beneath him, wanting nothing more than to taste the fruits of her effort. “Oh fuck, fuck. Alice!” His eyes flew wide and he buried himself into her mouth. “Come! Come for me!”
She cried out, but it was muffled by the enormous cock being driven into her throat, and did just as he asked, quite a feat considering she had to swallow his cum at the same time. All she had to do was press her finger once against her little clit and it went off like someone had lit fireworks between her legs, pop, pop, pop, growing bigger, coming faster, and then slowly fading to black. The Red King emptied himself completely into her eager, waiting mouth, and Alice swallowed every last drop, wondering at the taste. His seed was as sweet as honey.
“Oh your majesty.” A saccharin
e sweet voice came from beneath the dias and Alice knew it was the Red Queen.
“Coming,” he called, slowly extracting himself from Alice’s still suckling mouth.
“Not anymore,” Alice whispered and then giggled, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She noticed with wonder that the restraints she had formerly worn were gone.
The Red King grinned and stood, towering over her for a moment before he stepped over the edge. She screamed at his sudden departure but when she looked over the side of the dias she could see nothing, no king or queen. The room was empty.
Alice rested on the platform, her body slick with sweat, now unrestrained, and stared up at the red and white big-top ceiling. Wade was here, somewhere, she was sure of it. This strange and wonderful night was his doing and there was probably more to come. She just hoped the rest of it included him.
She should have been cold but the room seemed to adjust to the perfect temperature and she drifted easily off to sleep thinking about her man. When she woke, the dias had descended, becoming part of the floor again, and she was resting on the original black and white parquet tiles. She lifted her head and looked around the room, which had been changed again in the time she’d been asleep. The bistro table was still there in a corner, but now there was another, a long thin one, kind of like a doctor’s table.
Alice sat up, curious, and looked around. The room was still empty except for her, but she was sure someone was watching. She stood and made her way over to the new piece of furniture, running her hand over the padded surface. It was rather like a massage table. She’d been on a few of them, the kind with the hole at the end. It had seemed strange to her, but putting her face there during the massage had made the experience so much more enjoyable because her body could rest completely flat. Although this hole seemed to be in a strange place, much further down on the table than it should have been.
The other table still held the empty plate with the note, “eat me,” which she already had, and the glass full of wine marked, “drink me.” She hadn’t had a chance before the Red King and Queen had come in and she found herself very dehydrated after that interlude. She lifted the glass, contemplating it for a moment. Maddie’s voice threatened to surface and she smiled at the warning. Too late now.
