Alice

by Bradley Stoke

  “No, Alice,” smiled Kedi. “But you have the look of someone who lives here.”

  “Have you always done this?”

  “No, of course I have not. I came to this country to work as a maid in a rich person’s house. But it is some months now since I was working there, and this is how I make my money now. But it is better than prostitution, and that is better than not eating enough and I am content.”

  “Why don’t you wear any clothes?” wondered Alice.

  “In my country nobody wears clothes.”

  “But you can buy clothes if you wanted?” Alice asked looking at the money in the hat which wouldn’t buy very many clothes at all.

  “No,” answered Kedi sadly. “The rich person I worked for did not pay me when I left, and if I wanted I could not buy clothes.”

  “That’s awful!” Alice exclaimed. “Why weren’t you paid?”

  “I am sure I will be paid, but because I am black I am not permitted into the house and I can not ask. The doorman will not allow me to go in.”

  “Perhaps I can ask for you,” Alice suggested. “I may be able to enter.”

  “You are right,” grinned Kedi. “And you are kind. I will show you the rich person’s house.”

  Kedi picked up her blanket and ivory dildo which seemed to be all that she owned. Alice and she walked through the streets away from the shops and they talked. Kedi told her that there were many black people living in Wonderground who had come from abroad to find work, but it was thought they were only able to do very menial work and people made fun of them. “In my own country people do not make fun of me, but in this town I hear many jokes and people say many odd things.”

  “What is your country like?”

  “It is very poor and nobody has very much to eat or wear. But we are happy. I have come to this country to make money for my family. I have come with my brother who is younger than you. I worked for the rich person, Mrs Duchess, for many months and I worked very hard. One day I was told that I was not wanted any longer. I was told to leave but my brother stayed. I have not seen him since that day.”

  “That’s terrible! Why not?”

  “Because I am black I am not permitted to enter the house of Mrs Duchess. But my brother, Pig, he works there and I do not know if he is happy.”

  As they walked, the houses became steadily more opulent and they passed many beautiful gardens. They were the loveliest gardens you ever saw. How Alice longed to wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains.

  They came suddenly upon an open square with a big house four floors high. “That is the house of Mrs Duchess,” announced Kedi. “I will wait here.” She indicated a bench that stood in the square. Alice smiled and put a little sweet into her mouth and approached the big house. For a minute or two, she stood looking at the house and wondering what to do next, but she went timidly up to the door, and knocked.

  A footman in livery opened the door, and there was a most extraordinary noise going on within ‑ a constant howling and shouting, and every now and then a great crash from the music being played. The footman looked at Alice vacantly, and let her in without a comment.

  The door led into a hallway and at the end of it was a living room from which came the sounds. The room was full of sweet‑smelling smoke from one end to the other: Mrs Duchess was lying on the carpet with a small black boy mounted on her and fucking her: her friend, a woman with a large dildo strapped around her waist was leaning over the boy and gently prodding the boy’s anus with her finger. Mrs Duchess was nearly naked except for some black suspenders and tights and a hat on her head. Her friend wore just a bonnet and the dildo. Mrs Duchess was very fat, but her friend was very thin ‑ her breasts were almost as small as Alice’s but crowned by much larger and clearly erect nipples.

  “There’s certainly too much smoke in this room!” Alice said to herself, looking at a large hookah pipe, as well as she could for coughing. There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even Mrs Duchess coughed occasionally: and as for the boy, he was coughing and crying alternately without a moment’s pause.

  “Please would you tell me,” said Alice, a little timidly, for she was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to speak first, “what you are doing?”

  “Fucking the boy,” said Mrs Duchess, “and that’s why. Pig!”

  She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice quite jumped: but she saw in another moment that it was addressed to the boy, and not to her, so she took courage, and went on again:‑ “I am on an errand from the boy’s sister, Kedi, who wants to be paid.”

  “It’s in the hallway,” said Mrs Duchess: “in an envelope with her name. Take it to her.”

  “Thank you,” Alice said very politely, feeling quite pleased to have settled her errand.

  “Do you want to join in?” asked Mrs Duchess.

  Alice did not at all like the suggestion as the boy really did not seem to enjoy the activity. Mrs Duchess’s friend had now positioned herself above the boy and started pushing her groin and the dildo into the boy’s arse. Mrs Duchess reacted by gasping as the boy pushed hard into her cunt with the extra thrust from behind. The boy started howling so much and it was impossible to tell whether the thrusts hurt him or not.

  “Oh, please mind what you’re doing!” cried Alice, jumping up and down in an agony of terror.

  “If everybody minded their own business,” Mrs Duchess said, in a hoarse growl, “life would be much more pleasant.”

  The two women continued playing with the boy who looked at Alice with a very sad expression. Tears were running down his cheeks and he reacted to each thrust from behind, which pushed the dildo deeper into his bottom, by another little gasp.

  “Here! Do you want to come to the garden party?” suddenly asked Mrs Duchess pushing off the boy whose struggles must have become less enjoyable. She pulled herself out from under him, and Alice saw his little penis shudder and start as it discharged. Her friend continued buggering him, but standing up so that Alice could see the dildo thrusting in and out from underneath his legs. A thin trickle of semen dripped down his legs.

  Mrs Duchess walked over to a closet, her fat breasts, stomach and buttocks wobbling as she walked. She was a very ugly woman and her fat fell like folds over each other. It was only the large nipples which differentiated the fold of fat which was her breasts from those which were folds of her stomach. Her thighs and arms were wobbling folds of fats with the feet and hands at the end appearing rather small in comparison. She picked up a gilt‑edged card which was an invitation to a Garden Party and handed it to Alice. “Everyone will be there,” she announced, patting Alice on the head. Alice was more aware of the rich smell of sweat and semen than of being touched.

  Alice took the card and left the living room to the hallway to pick up the envelope which did have the word KEDI written on it. Alice poked her head into the living room to say “Thank you” before leaving, to see Mrs Duchess wrapping her tongue around the small boy’s penis while her friend continued buggering him. The small boy was still crying but more as grunts and sobs. “If Kedi sees Pig,” she said to herself, “she would be very upset: but at least Pig doesn’t have to masturbate for a living like Kedi.”

  She left the house and walked over to Kedi in the middle of the square who was sitting cross‑legged on the grass. She only grinned when she saw Alice, looking very good‑natured and relaxed.

  “Kedi,” Alice began, not knowing if she knew her so well as to be familiar. “Here’s your money. And here is an invitation I was given to go to a garden party. Should I go to it?”

  Kedi took the envelope and counted the notes inside it grinning. “For how many people is the invitation?” she asked. “Why! It’s for two!” said Alice. “Would you like to come with me?”

  “I will,” grinned Kedi. “Mrs Duchess and her friends are all mad. I am mad, but I will help you at the party. And maybe I will meet my brother Pig.”

  “Where will I meet
you?”

  Kedi looked at the invitation card. “You’ll see me there,” she said and stood up. She bent over and kissed Alice very tenderly on her cheek.

  “By‑the‑bye, what became of my brother?” said Kedi. “I’d nearly forgotten to ask.”

  “He is being buggered by Mrs Duchess and her friend,” Alice answered very quietly.

  “I thought he would,” said Kedi, kissing her again, this time on her lips. Kedi walked away carrying her blanket and dildo, her black buttocks moving as stately as her stride. She turned her head back.

  “Did you say ‘buggered’ or ‘bothered’?” said Kedi.

  “I said ‘buggered’,” replied Alice.

  “All right,” said Kedi and she walked on with no apparent disquiet. She turned back with her broad grin, which remained in Alice’s mind some time after she had gone.

  VI - A Sex Tea‑Party

  Mouse invited Alice to a Tea‑Party with her friends Henry and Howard. “It’ll be great fun!” she said. “They’re both mad you know!” Their house was fairly ordinary, but when she knocked on the door there was no answer. The name on the plaque quite clearly read Henry and Howard, and the door was open so she walked in.

  She wandered into the living room to see Henry and Howard sitting on the sofa with Mouse sitting between them, smoking a reefer and looking very sleepy and wearing no clothes, and the other two were leaning on her using her as a cushion and wearing only underwear.

  The room was a large one, but it was not at all obvious where Alice should sit. “Oh hello Alice!” smiled Mouse seeing her come in.

  “Hello,” said Alice sitting down in a large armchair.

  “I’m Howard,” one of the two young men announced. He was wearing a hat and bow‑tie Alice noted, which looked very odd with only his underpants and socks.

  “Have some wine,” Henry, the other one, said in an encouraging tone. Like Howard he wore a bow‑tie but otherwise he was wearing only an open shirt.

  Alice looked around and saw that there were wine and alcoholic drinks everywhere. However, she wasn’t tempted. “No thank you,” she said.

  The conversation dropped and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice wondered what it was that made Mouse think Henry and Howard were fun. Howard was the first to break the silence. “How’s your cunt?” he asked. Alice was taken aback by this, but she realised it was in fact addressed to Mouse.

  “Itchy”, she remarked.

  “I told you butter wouldn’t suit!” he commented, looking at Henry.

  “It was the best butter,” Henry meekly replied.

  “Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,” Mouse grumbled: “you shouldn’t have put it in with the breadknife.” Mouse looked at her vagina gloomily: she opened it wide, dripped some wine into it and looked at it again. While she was doing this Henry started pouring some more wine down her front, which also ran down into her wide‑open vagina.

  “Treacle!” announced Howard. “Do you want some treacle, Alice?”

  “I like treacle,” considered Alice, “but what is it with?”

  “Mouse, of course,” laughed Henry who produced some treacle and started smearing it over Mouse’s body. Howard pulled off his underpants and socks and licked off the treacle from her nipples. Henry took a banana out of the fruit dish and unpeeled it. “What do you think of this?” he asked, holding it against his penis which was beginning to grow to very similar dimensions to the banana. He pushed it into Mouse’s vagina and started eating it from inside.

  Alice continued to watch this display, and thought it was very curious. While the banana was being eaten by Henry, Howard pushed his erect penis into Mouse’s mouth and she sucked at it while her own groin was being eaten. When the banana was eaten, Henry pushed his penis right up Mouse’s cunt and the dialogue Alice was listening to was reduced to a lot of grunting and groaning. This continued for several minutes until Howard pulled his penis out of Mouse’s mouth and his semen dripped out of the corners.

  “More! More!” demanded Mouse, so Howard pulled Mouse over into a new position on the sofa, so that both he and Henry could get to Mouse’s vagina. For an awkward moment it looked as if the three of them would collapse in their new quite contorted position, but finally Howard pushed his prick into Mouse’s vagina and for a moment, Mouse had two penises thrusting in and out of her.

  “Why don’t you join in, Alice?” asked Mouse between gasps. She was sandwiched between her two friends supported only by her knees, which were on either side of Henry’s chest, and her hands, which held the edge of the sofa.

  “Yes, I’m sure there’s space for us in your cunt,” Howard considered.

  “I’m not sure if I really…” began Alice.

  “Oh, don’t be silly!” gasped Mouse, but she didn’t pursue her argument as the thrusts from her friends put her off any more conversation.

  Alice stayed watching a little longer, but she felt rather left out. On the other hand, she didn’t think it was quite right to join in. When Henry pushed his penis up Mouse’s bottom, Alice started thinking that perhaps she had outstayed her welcome. Mouse’s cries became more guttural and urgent at this stage. “Piss on me!” she cried to Henry who was drinking a long draught of beer. “Gladly,” he said and a long torrent of pee gushed out of his prick, and trickled through Mouse’s hair and down her face.

  This piece of vulgarity was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust and walked off: Mouse continued crying in ecstatic spasms, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping they would call after her: the last time she saw them, they both had their pricks up Mouse’s bottom.

  “At any rate I’ll never go there again!” said Alice, as she left through the door: “It’s the most disgusting tea‑party I ever was at in all my life!”

  VII - Turtle’s Story

  Alice was a polite girl and she believed that when you are invited to a party, as she had been by Mrs Duchess, she should go. This was at the house of Mr and Mrs Hart in a very genteel part of the town. So she put on some very respectable clothes that Mouse had lent her and went to the address. The house was enormous, and Alice wasn’t sure that she was in the right place as she entered the front door, but the footman looked at her invitation card and nodded her through.

  Alice saw a beautiful garden through the doors in the living room with bright flower‑beds and a cool fountain, and attracted by its beauty she walked in. A large rose‑tree stood near the entrance of the garden, and just by them were three black boys, hardly older than her, wearing only little silk scarves around their necks, who were in a very odd position together. One of them was leaning against the tree holding himself up while another boy was behind him and seemed to be pushing his prick into the first boy’s backside. A third boy was standing behind the two of them and seemed to be trying to do the same thing. The problem was that none of the boys appeared to enjoy what they were doing and their pricks were barely erect enough to stay lodged inside the other’s bottom. Furthermore, the one who did have a prick inside him was not grunting from pleasure but more from discomfort.

  “We should have used soap,” complained the middle boy pulling his penis out of the first boy’s bottom. “Or butter. Cooking oil is clearly not good enough.”

  “My arse hurts like hell,” complained the first boy stroking his bottom with his middle finger.

  “Would you tell me, please,” said Alice, a little timidly, “why you are doing that?”

  The first two boys said nothing, but looked at the third boy, who was in least discomfort, who began, in a low voice, “Why, the fact is, you see, Miss, we are supposed to be buggering each other in a row for when the guests arrive and if Madam finds that we aren’t doing it we should all lose our jobs, you know. So you see, Miss, we’re doing our best before she comes, to ‑” At this moment, the first boy, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out “Madam! Madam!” and the three boys insta
ntly threw themselves flat upon their faces with their bums sticking out suggestively into the air. There was a sound of many footsteps, and Alice looked round, eager to see the other guests.

  There were a motley bunch of people dressed in the most peculiar ways. Some wore leather outfits that covered their faces and most of the body except for their genitals and nipples. Some wore nothing at all. Many wore only clothes that covered some of the body but seemingly never their genitals. There were several children ‑ almost all naked ‑ and they came jumping merrily along, hand in hand, in couples. In amongst the guests, Alice last saw the hosts who were Mr and Mrs Hart. Mrs Hart was clearly the most dominant, wearing a striking combination of leather and chains which did little to hide the fact that she was rather old and that her skin and breasts were quite seriously sagging. Even so, she seemed to have no shame about displaying her drooping nipples which balanced at the top of the creases of her folded stomach and the threadbare patch of her crotch which was just beneath.

  When the procession came opposite Alice, they all stopped and looked at her, and Mrs Hart said, severely, “Who is this?” She said it to a young gentleman, possibly a butler, who was almost modestly clothed in a jacket without underpants or trousers, who only bowed and smiled in reply.

  “Idiot!” said Mrs Hart, smacking him with a cane impatiently; and, turning to Alice, she went on: “What’s your name, child?”

  “My name is Alice,” said Alice very politely.

  “And who are these?” said Mrs Hart to the butler, pointing to the three black boys who were lying round the rose‑tree, “Stand them up!”

  The butler did so, very carefully, with one foot.

  “Get up!” said Mrs Hart in a shrill loud voice, and the three boys instantly jumped up, and began bowing to her and the other guests. “Why weren’t you doing what I told you to do?”

  “May it please you Madam,” said one of the boys, in a very humble tone, “we were trying…”

  “I see!” said Mrs Hart. “Fuck off and don’t come back!” The procession moved on, and the unfortunate boys scampered away.