Alices True Adventures Prologue
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Alice's Very Naughty Adventures Chapter XII: The Room Of Doors free porn video
“Please!” Alice cried as yet another almost orgasm began to build within. She’d lost count of the number or times she’s almost gone over the edge, only to be pulled back yet again. Enough that she was willing to do exactly as Nobody had claimed – beg him to release her and do whatever he wished to her as long as he would finally let her climax.
“Please release me and make me- oh! Oh no. Not again!”
She barely heard his chuckle so intent was she upon the bumblebeetle within her pussy vibrating deep within her until she was sure she would soon go mad with desperation.
He moved closer, squatting before her, a key upon a slender chain dangling from an ebon finger.
“What would you do for this?” he asked with a knowing smirk.
“Anything. Anything at all,” she whimpered as she clutched at the metal belt, attempting to pry it from her quivering hips.
“Would you let me fuck you, Alice?”
“Yes,” she answered with a despairing moan.
“In the mouth?”
“Yes.”
“Or the ass?”
“Yes, even there. Please!”
“I’m not sure you’re desperate enough yet.”
“I am!” she cried out, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she felt herself reach the crest once again and linger there for an eternity before, once again, receding. Frustrated, she cursed at him like a sailor. Amused, he simply shook his head and began swinging the key back and forth like a pendulum.
“You’re drooling. It looks delectable upon you. Your lips glisten so very prettily. I bet they would feel good around my prick were I to just slide it in.”
“Do it!” she cried as she began tugging and twisting at her nipples again.
“Oh, I plan to. In fact- what is that?”
Confused by the question, Alice’s breath caught in her chest she felt it coming once more, knowing that she was to be denied yet again. And then, she heard it too. The off-key cry of a bugle followed by a familiar – no! Two familiar voices!”
“To the rescue! Charge!”
Had anyone told her just a few hours ago that she would be so glad to see Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum once more, she might have scoffed and yet now their voices were like the sweetest of music upon her ears!
“Help!” she cried out as she writhed around on the floor of the cave nearly overcome by yet another non-gasm. “Oh, please, help me!”
“We’re coming Alice!” the Tweedles cried in unison, the sound of their feet filling the darkness of the cave. She could just make out their smiles and their silver rattles in the darkness. And the key for, unsurprisingly, in his surprise, Nobody had forgotten all about it.
‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth, or so father often says,’ Alice thought to herself, taking the opportunity offered to grab at the key with both hands even as her rescuers bowled into Nobody and began to strike at him with rattles raised.
At first, Alice thought that they would soon overcome him. But then, as she watched, she realized that as well as being quite cruel, he was also quite skilled in the art of battle and soon it became quite evident that, outnumbered as he was, he very well might prevail.
‘Dash and bother and bloody hell!’ she thought. And then, a moment later, a different thought occurred. ‘I have the key! Oh, Alice you are such a clever girl! Now, to simply unlock this awful device and be free!’
Triumphantly, she fit the key into the keyhole, but before she could turn it, a noisy mass of legs and arms and snarling face crashed into her, sending her rolling further into the darkness where she encountered the rim of a very large hole into which she tumbled!
“Help!” she screamed as she succumbed to gravity and began to fall like a stone dropped into a well. “Help me!” she tried once again, her voice echoing as she continued her descent into the pit.
“Oh, what a terrible way to end my story,” she said out loud, certain that it was indeed the end. And then, a very curious thing began to happen. She began to slow, or rather, her descent slowed. It was as if she now weighed no more than a leaf. Drifting slowly down, turning this way and that and even head over heels, she took notice of the darkness diminishing until she could see the side of the pit into which she’d tumbled into.
‘Why, this is not a pit at all, although what it is, I am not quite sure yet, for a pit would have roughly hewed walls of stone, or perhaps even bricks, and yet, the walls are made of earth. Not only that, but they are anything but plain. Curiously, it appears that I have fallen into a pantry!’
It did indeed resemble a pantry for the walls were lined with shelves baring all manner of bottles, jars and tins. As she fell, or rather drifted, she did her best to read the labels.
‘Rose honey. Aprodesiac from Minsk. Hogweed Jam. Ginger tea biscuits. Poppy and mommy seeds. Essence of Philosophy. Trumpet mushroom powder. Sardinian sardines. Tincture of Appleseed. Jubjub oil. All so exotic and strange. Black peppermint. Dried orange peelings. Oh, and what’s this? Dolls!’
For the shelves she now drifted past were decorated with dolls of all sizes, from fancy porcelain ladies to plumply stuffed dolls with button eyes and everything inbetween. There were even a few stuffed animals mixed in. Bears. Cats. Mice. Rabbits. Lizards. A calico elephant and a gingham Horse.
Next she drifted past what must have been a library, with books of every possible kind filling the shelves. Anatomy, astrology, philosophy, alchemy, biology, physics (which she considered attempting to read as she floated past in hopes that it might explain why she was able to drift slowly past rather than fall at a surely fatal rate), history, art, and even some picture books.
‘While I would rather fall slowly than quickly, I do hope that I shall come to a stop upon a reliable floor sometime soon.’
Next she passed wardrobes, some of which had been left open so that she could admire some rather fancy and presumably quite expensive fashions.
‘If only I could control my descent,’ she mused, ‘I could play dress up for I am rather tired of being undressed. Which reminds me! I have the key!’
All it took was a simply turn and she was free of the armored device that Nobody had fitted her with.
“Free at last!” she exclaimed as she flung it from her, noting that it, too, feel rather slowly.
“At last!” echoed a tiny voice from between her thighs, accompanied by a strange wiggling sensation as the bumblebeetle wormed its way from her still very wet pussy.
“Oh!” she uttered in surprise. “You can talk.”
“Of course I can,” grumbled the insect, the ghost of a frown upon it’s tiny face. “Why wouldn’t I be able too?”
“Where I come from, insects can’t talk,” Alice explained, blushing with embarrassment.
“Sounds like a terribly dull place,” the bumblebeetle muttered before launching itself into the air and unfolding its wings before flittering off.
“Well, compared to here, I guess it is, but then, Wonderland is rather a terribly strange place and often quite vexing! And look, there below me is the bottom and I shall be rather glad to feel the ground, or in this case, the floor, beneath my feet once more.”
Before she could utter another word, she was indeed feeling smooth tiles beneath her bare feet as she alit in a rather large circular room with an assortment of doors leading, presumably, out. As for the room itself, it reminded her of her father’s study as it had appeared in her dream. She half expected Cheshire to simply appear out of nowhere to ply her with a new riddle and was somewhat crestfallen at his lack of presence.
“I wonder if I’m dreaming again,” she murmured, looking around the room whilst wondering if she should pinch herself, just in case she was. In fact, it seemed like such a good idea that she did just that.
“Such a relief!” she declared after deciding that she was quite awake. “Now, what to do next. Take a look around, perhaps. I wonder if one of the doors leads to a closet full of pretty things to wear. In truth, I am quite tired of being naked. A hot bath would also be much welcomed, but I am not getting my hopes up.”
Deciding that it made sense to try the doors one by one until she found what she was looking for, she strolled across the room, passing the table that should have held a chessboard. Instead, there was a glass bottle containing a pinkish liquid, a cupcake on a plate, and a pipe. Taking a closer look, she noticed that each had a small tag attached to it, with a single carefully scripted word upon it.
“Eat me,” she read, eyeing the cupcake. It was rather pretty with cream colored frosting and small blue frosting flowers decorating it.
“Drink me.” The teacup was likewise decorated, as was the saucer it sat upon.
“Smoke me.” Of course, the pipe held to the same thing. It seemed to be made of white tinted glass and had blue flowers painted along the rim of the bowl.
“Cheshire had said something about tea and cake,” Alice recalled out loud. “Only it has been so long ago and so much has happened since that I cannot recollect exactly what it was. Oh, dash and bother. I wish that Wonderland wasn’t so confusing or confounding. Why can’t anything be easy here?”
Alice half expected an answer from any one of the furnishings in the room. A doorknob, perhaps, or a table. Maybe even the cupcake upon the table, but she was disappointed in that, eventually letting out a soft sigh.
“I guess I shall have to work it out on my own. I wonder if the doors have keyholes through which I could peer so that I can decide which of them to try. I shall pick one at random and see what I can see.”
With an eye to the keyhole of the door nearest her she discovered a most welcome surprise. It seemed to lead into a rather sizable closet full of fashions of every hue and color.
“At last!” she declared and wasted no time in opening the door and stepping forward, somewhat overwhelmed, for the closest was as lengthy as many a hall and was lined with enough outfits that one could go an entire year and never wear the same one twice.
She began to examine them, one at a time, touching them carefully, yet not daring to take any off the hanger, for they looked far too fanciful for a someone such as common as Alice to wear, or so she thought at first. Then it struck her. While That Alice would never try on such finery, This Alice just might.
“I am sure that This Alice would at least try on something, especially since This Alice is tired of not having anything to wear. Nor does This Alice which to catch a chill and, while it is not drafty in here, who knows what the climate might be like upon the other side of another door. The only question is, which to try on first. Perhaps I shall go alphabetically by color, alizarin being first, then ameranth, amber, amethyst, apricot, aqua, aquamarine, asparagus, auburn, and finally azure. After that, well, perhaps I won’t need to look further than that.”
As it turned out, Alice was well into the F’s before she found a suitably pleasing style in an equally suitably pleasing fuchsia.
“Oh, this is quite lovely,” she decided, holding it out at arm’s length and then to her before a full length mirror, one in which her reflection appeared to be just that, a reflection. By then she was feeling quite peckish and remembering the small cake upon the table.
“After I am dressed,” she promised her reflection which, apparently, agreed with her for it simply nodded its head in affirmation, much to Alice’s relief. “I don’t suppose there are undergarments as well.”
Looking around she spied a rather large dresser with several drawers in which there were, indeed, all manner and color of pretty brassieres, bustiers, camisoles, chemises, corsets, drawers, knickers, shifts, slips, stockings, and suspenders. So many, in fact, that Alice felt quite overwhelmed and decided to sit down upon a plump footstool until she felt sufficiently recovered to make a decision, all the while aware that her stomach was quite unhappy about its current state and showing its displeasure by growling threateningly.
“I best not take too long,” she murmured as she rose to her feet. “Perhaps it would be easier if I simply closed my eyes and left it to chance.”
She took her time dressing, enjoying the sensuous feel of silk and lace upon her soft skin. She’d chosen undergarments of tangerine, thinking they complimented the color of her dress perfectly. Knickers that with so little material that they would be considered scandalous anywhere but in a brothel and a bra that barely hid her rosy pink nipples. Lace suspenders held up silk stockings that felt slinky as she pulled them over her calves and thighs. A corset that laced in front rather than in back which she had tightened as much as she could stand so that her figure resembled an hourglass. She liked how it pushed her breasts up, making them look fuller. She stood for several minutes in the looking glass, striking poses that she imagined what it would be like to actually be a French whore, blushing at how wicked she was being and at the hint of dampness that was slowly growing on her orange drawers and how visible her nipples were as they poked against the silk of her brassiere.
“Perhaps I will simply forego a dress and comport myself such,” she said with a giggle, tilting her head saucily as she blew a kiss to the sexy girl in the mirror.
‘Of course, that could lead to mischief should I meet pirates or bandits or men with nefarious intentions, so perhaps it would be best not to,’ she decided, although the idea of meeting such men while dressed solely in undergarments made her pulse race the damp spot upon her knickers spread until she wondered if she’d soon have to change into a new pair.
‘Oh, dash and bother. This Alice doesn’t care a whit what anyone might think, not that they’ll see. Only I will know… Oh dear. I can’t believe this, after all that has happened! I am simply shameless.’ she scolded herself, having noticed that her hand had made it’s way into her knickers without her permission and her fingers had began to caress her pleasure nub teasingly.
“Oh, but it feels so good,” she sighed, her eyes closing so that she didn’t have to watch herself behaving indecently. “And no one is here to judge me for being wicked…”
With that in mind, she gave in to temptation, watching herself in the looking glass as her hand moved inside her panties. Her breath began to quicken and her pulse race and she began to moan as she reached out with one hand to steady herself against the mirror frame as she pushed two slender digits inside of her grasping cunt. Spreading her legs apart, she began to properly fuck herself, her cheeks flushed as she panted and purred.
“You are such a naughty slut,” she admonished her reflection as she felt a long denied climax building into an inferno inside her until she was overcome with such passion that she lost all control, thrusting a third finger into her tight wet cunt as far as she could as she let out a passionate cry and came, her juices pushing their way past her fingers and coating the insides of her thighs. Shaking, she sank to the floor, her palms pressed against the rug upon which she knelt, hair hanging over her face as she tried to catch her breath.
“Oh, my oh my,” she finally managed, her hand still trapped between her thighs, her fingers dripping with her discharge. “Oh my oh my oh my.”
Eventually she managed to make her way to her feet once more, aware that she smelled like a French whore, and not caring in the least, at least not at present.
“I should finish dressing,” she mused out loud, still unsteady on her feet. “And then explore the other doors. I really should. Only I would rather just stand here all day and do that over and over until I am to exhausted to stand, in which case I might consider kneeling or perhaps laying down whilst doing it. that said, I fear my stomach is becoming increasingly upset with me and there is cake and tea.”
Despite her hunger, she took her time dressing, wanting to look pretty. ‘That that there is anyone to notice, but sometimes it’s enough to know that, if there was, they would certainly compliment me.’
The dress was far fancier than anything she’d ever tried on before. Risque as well, for it was made of lace that was so sheer that one needed guess at the color of her undergarments.
“Not that I give a fig, let alone two,” she decided with a firm nod, her chin pushed out defiantly. Picking out a pair of leather boots, she slipped her feet into them and laced them up to just below her knees. “I wonder if I should compliment my ensemble with a bonnet and parasol. It might add an air of properness, although, when one has their wet knickers on display such as I have, it might be considered a useless gesture.”
Returning to the room in which she had begun she strolled carefully towards the table upon which the small cake had been placed, mindful of her boot heels, something she wasn’t altogether used to.
‘It certainly looks harmless. Quite the opposite, and I am terribly hungry. I can’t imagine it would hurt to take a bite or two.’
She did just that, pleasantly surprised to discover that it was harmless, for how could something so incredibly scrumptious be harmful?
‘This might possibly be the best cake I have ever tasted,’ she thought, taking another bite and moaning softly as her mouth was filled with a delightfully sweet flavor. ‘I don’t think I can stop at simply having a bit or two. I must have the entire cake.’
Once she had finished it her tummy didn’t feel quite so empty. In fact, despite it being such a small cake it seemed to sate her appetite perfectly.
Feeling quite content she placed the now empty plate back on the table, beside the pipe.
‘Smoke me? I should think not. Only gentlemen smoke. It’s simply not lady-like. And yet, I am not much of a lady, or so I have discovered.’
She eyed the single match and striker that lay alongside the piper, wondering what it would feel like to smoke a pipe. ‘I wonder if it has a taste or just an aroma? I never thought to ask father. Nor am I sure exactly how one goes about smoking. Perhaps it is just a matter of puffing? Maybe I will try it and, if I decide it is not for me I will simply never do it again.’
That decided, she picked up the pipe and placed the stem to her lips. Thinking back on all the times she had watched her father light his pipe in the comfort of his study she bit down on the stem whilst striking the match head against the striker. Once lit, she placed it over the bowl and sucked in as hard as she could, dimpling her cheeks with the effort, until she could taste a smokey sweetness fill her mouth, and then her throat, and then her lungs until it was all she could do to keep from coughing, at which point, she exhaled and did cough.
“Perhaps smoking a pipe is not for me,” she decided out loud as she replaced the pipe on the table. “I think that, next, I’ll explore some of the other doors and see if they lead anywhere interesting. Perhaps the blue one.”
Before she was half way across the room a strange feeling came over her.
‘I feel… fuzzy,’ she decided, for that was the word that best described how she was feeling. It was a nice kind of feeling so she wasn’t overly worried about it, concentrating on the door which, strangely, seemed to be getting farther and farther away with each step rather than closer.
‘How very curious. Perhaps if I were to walk away from it, I might get closer,’ she decided, and did just that, taking a careful step backward whilst still facing the door. Much to her delight, the door seemed to grow closer, or at least larger, and so she took another step, and another, until the door was towering over her head.
“Why, I had no idea it was so large!” she exclaimed out loud, her voice echoing in the large room. It was, in fact, much larger than Alice recalled, as was the table upon which the cake, bottle, and pipe had been placed. “Oh, Dear. I fear that the room hasn’t gotten larger. I have gotten smaller! Dash and bother. Now what am I going to do?”
She looked around her at all the doors. Each one had a knob that was too high for her to reach, even if she stood on tiptoe.
“At least I have stopped shrinking. Oh, but my head feels quite funny. Not only are my thoughts growing fuzzy but it feels like I am floating.”
Glancing down at her feet she realized that she was, indeed, floating slowly off the floor.
“It’s almost like being in the pond behind the house. I wonder if it is possible to swim through air. I guess there is only one way to find out.”
She began to wave her arms around as if she might be swimming in a large pond, quite pleased that she had thought of this solution to her dilemma. Soon she was floating next to the door knob.
“Hello,” she announced warmly, curtseying in mid air.
“Why, hello to you as well,” the knob replied brightly. “I can’t recall having seen you before and I most certainly would have remembered such a pretty bird such as yourself.”
“I’m not a bird, silly,” Alice giggled, her thoughts growing even fuzzier. She blinked, trying to focus on the knob, for it seemed that there were now 4 identical knobs on four identical doors. “I’m an Alice.”
“Well, you certainly look like a bird. And you’re flying, so it’s only logical to assume that you are, in fact, a bird. Besides, I have never heard of an Alice before. Perhaps you are confused.”
Alice nodded absently, thinking the knob – or rather, knobs, for now there seemed to be six of them – were correct. She did seem rather confused. Maybe she really was a bird. That would explain why she was able to fly, or at least float. And she did seem to be covered in pretty colors much like the plumage of a bird.
“Perhaps I am. My pardon. Although I have absolutely no idea what kind of a bird I am.”
“A yellow crusted contrarian wobbler would be my guess. Or perhaps a three toed tangorio.”
“Perhaps,” Alice murmured, her small hands resting upon the brass knob so that she didn’t float way in the middle of their conversation. “I don’t suppose you know what’s on the other side of the door.”
“I do, in fact,” the knob corrected her eagerly. “A beautiful garden full of butterflies and flutterbies and every flower you could possibly imagine as well as some you couldn’t possibly imagine,” it proclaimed.
“It sounds delightful,” Alice slurred, for it seemed that not only had her thoughts grown fuzzy, but so had the rest of her. “Would you mind opening up so I can see for myself?”
“I would be happy to,” the knob nodded, turning slowly until the door begin to swing slowly open, allowing Alice to drift through, before closing once more, firmly behind her as she floated into the most lovely garden she had ever set eyes upon.
Blaze
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