Alice Chapter One by The Third Marker

A literotic sexstories: Alice Chapter One by The Third Marker ,

This started as a rewrite of Angel 1 by Starbuck, but now has none of the original left.

Alice

Chapter One

The Secret Garden

Alice skipped down the white gravel path, enjoying the bright spring morning. Everything was so green and smelled fresh. The flowers were in bloom and filled the air with a sweet fragrance. It was the day before her fourteenth birthday, and tomorrow the whole estate would be full of people celebrating. The servants were already busy, erecting the wooden poles upon which would be strung lights and pennants, whilst the kitchen worked round the clock. Today, though, she was on her own, at least as much as she ever was. The path she walked down skirted the neat topiary hedges that in turn framed several square gardens. Further down the path turned back to meet with the driveway, and here, if you turned left instead of right, you could enter the woods. She wasn’t really supposed to go into the woods, for soon they turned dark and tangled, and getting lost in them would be easy, even for the adults.

Alice ducked under the welcoming branches of a young oak and picked her way between patches of lilacs and foxgloves, treading a route that was second nature to her, weaving her way to her secret spot. It took a few minutes to get there, a clearing surrounding an ancient silverbirch. Between its ancient root boughs green mosses formed soft, natural cushioned areas, and it was here that Alice kept her ‘secret things’.

She waited for a few seconds, listening for the sounds of people, but as usual the only things she heard were the cuckoo’s calls. It was cool, here, but not cold, and Alice laid her coat down, after taking her phone from the inner pocket. She then carefully lifted her white dress over her head, before hanging it on one of the drooping branches. Once she has come here and had got so stained with grass that her clothes had been fit only to be thrown away. After the thrashing her father had given her, especially when his spanks had moved between her buttocks, she would certainly not make that mistake again. She stood then in the streams of diffuse light, naked but for her white stockings, tied with bows, and her pair of white shoes. She ran her hands down her body, over her budding breasts, down her belly, past her little patch of blonde hairs, and down to her stocking tops, feeling the crisp air goose-bumping her flesh.

She sat, then, between the thighs of the tree, and rustled through the dried leaves next to her, until she found her bag of secrets. She took each thing out nervously. First there was the bottle of wine she’d taken from the cellar. It was half-drunk, now, and would soon need replacing. Next there was a battered packet of Marlboro, with three cigarettes in it that she’d still not had the nerve to try smoking. Next were three dirty magazines she’d discovered in one of the gardener’s sheds, a copy of Hustler, a Swank, and a German edition of Private Taboo. She set these down next to her and reached back into the bag, pulling out her trophy, a used condom that she’d found in the greenhouse after one of her father’s parties. It was red, and starting to dry out, but when she’d first found it, it had still been supple, and filled with semen. Lastly came her most prized possession, a slim silver vibrator that one of the maids had given her on her twelfth birthday, with a sly smile and a promise that no one would know about it.

She began her ritual, always the same now, by running the condom over her face, breathing in the scent of old latex, before bringing it down her belly, and finally, she tucked it into her stockings. She then took a single swig of the wine, swallowing it down as it warmed her. She opened the Swank, positioned it on the wooden root beside her, and turned the pages. She’d read the stories so many times she could practically recite them, and soon she found her self reading the phone sex adverts, and the full page ads for videos. Her hand was by then holding the vibrator between her legs. She’d tried to insert it, once, but it had been too uncomfortable. As she held the buzzing plastic to her clitoris, she felt her self opening, as though her special spot was begging to engulf something, anything, like the girls in the pictures.

She ended up peering at a couple of adverts. One was labeled ‘taboo videos’ and had suggestive titles, like ‘Barnyard Whore’ and ‘Kennel Princess’, along with a picture of a girl hugging a huge great dane. The other was ‘Great Little Porno’ and had a photograph of a girl’s face, even younger than Alice, smiling oddly at the audience. She often ended up examining that one small advert. Did this mean that men wanted her? Not the boys in school, they were sweet, but fully grown men? Did they look at her with lust? She thought they must, they must dream of taking her, forcibly, perhaps, roughly, deeply, even though she was just thirteen. She imagined one of the gardeners finding her now, like this, and taking her, overcome with lust, and she’d welcome him in, let him deflower her right there, take his cock, and then his seed, oh his seed, flooding her, how perfect would that be…

It was then that she came, with a squeak, clamping her thighs together. Biting her lips as aftershocks rippled through her. She leant back against the tree, feeling her slit dripping as the wine worked in her blood, and gently, almost without knowing, she drifted into a light sleep.

The White Rabbit

Alice opened her eyes, sensing something was amiss. She turned her head slowly, scanning the trees. It took her a second to realize it, but off to one side, there sat a rabbit, looking back at her. It had pure white fur and bright blue eyes that seemed almost intelligent, but the most striking thing was its size. It was sat on the ground, and still it had to be three feet tall, not including his soft ears, one of which was flopped down. Alice looked at him for a little while, and all the time he stared back. She got to her feet, slowly, watching him all the time. As she stepped over the roots of the tree, the rabbit turned suddenly and bounced off into the woods. Alice felt a pang of disappointment, but then realized he’d stopped a little further away. She grinned and slowly walked over, cautiously avoiding the twigs lest she step on one and frighten it.

She’d gone perhaps forty feet from her silverbirch before the rabbit bolted again, but once more he stopped, just in sight. Alice followed again, and once more the rabbit scampered away. She realized as she moved further into the forest that it was getting a lot thicker, and darker. She also realized she’d forgotten to get dressed, she still wore only her stockings and shoes. The thought of being so exposed and so far from the modesty of her dress and coat excited her. She felt a thrill of adventure, made more keen when she realized she didn’t actually know how to get back to the tree, and would have to spend some time trying to find it, all whilst more or less naked.

The rabbit moved again, and this time, she lost sight of it in the undergrowth. Just a little further, Alice though, after all, one cannot get more lost than one is to begin with. She looked around, stepping round some bushes, and then spotted him. Well, his ears at least or to be even more precise his one ear, standing erect, in a field of nettles. Well, that was decidedly unhelpful, she wasn’t about to wade into nettles when wearing only stockings, so she’d just have to leave the rabbit, and head back. She turned to start retracing her steps, and suddenly she was falling backwards, with a shriek of surprise she landed on her back in amongst the nettles, but she had not stopped moving, carried along on a river of leaf litter she slid down the steep slopes, and all too quickly, she was plunged into darkness.

The Rabbit’s Hole

Alice woke up with a start. She was curled up on a bed of dried grass. It was dark, very dark, and it took her a while to make out the shape of things in the gloom. There were bookshelves on either side of her, and a table with a small bottle on it. A pair of comfy looking worn red armchairs sat facing each other on either side of the table, and she could see a dim light coming from round a corner. Roots intertwined everything, and the scent of musty earth pervaded. She got onto her knees, and realized her skin tingled with the sting of the nettles she had fallen through, but other than that and a few scrapes, she seemed not to have damaged anything. She looked up, and could just make out the hole she had fallen through, but it was a long way off, and the slope of the tunnel she had slid down was too steep to climb. She decided there was little else she could do, and walked towards the light. She came round the corner, and found a little kitchen, wooden surfaces sat a couple of feet off the floor, and held a few old looking pots and bunches of vegetables tied with string. There was a small cooker there, unlit, but warm still. There were two perfectly little doors, four feet tall, and rounded, as if they’d been carved to fit the shapes of the rocks that made up the walls.

Alice opened one door, and found a pantry, lined with jars and tins and small baskets of bread and fruit. She closed that door and opened the other. She had to go through on her hands and knees, but once inside, she found this was a hallway of some sort. There was another door, and a wooden chest bound with metal straps. Beside the door stood a large rocking horse, it was difficult to see because it was all black. As Alice walked over to it she blushed as she realized that this rocking horse wasn’t for children, at least she hoped it wasn’t, for between its hind legs there was a huge wooden cock. Alice stood beside it. The light had played a trick on her, she imagined, because this rocking horse stood almost life sized, the saddle was level with her chin. She ran her hand down its flanks, feeling it smooth and warm to the touch. She bit her lip as she nervously reached below, and tentatively wrapped her hand around the wooden shaft, feeling her heart racing as her fingers explored its carved surface, thrilling at the dirtiness of such a thing.

“I see you’ve met my steed.”

The voice shocked Alice, coming as it did from nowhere. She spun round, frightened, and standing behind her was the rabbit, even taller now, as he stood on his hind legs.

“Did you say something?” She stammered.

“Are you deaf? Of course I said something, I said ‘I see you’ve met my steed’.”

“I see. I suppose I have.”

“Well, isn’t that typical? You may be the rudest little girl I have ever met!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything,” Alice stammered, not at all sure what to make of a talking rabbit, not least a talking rabbit that was scolding her. It was only then that she realized she was standing naked, and then tried to cover herself with her arms.

“Didn’t mean anything? First you chase me through the woods, then you cave in my roof, my roof, mind you, how I’ll ever deal with the rain getting in I don’t know. Then I come back to find you wandering around as happy as you like, and giving my horse a thrill!”

“I didn’t mean to chase you, I was just following you because I thought you were quite the prettiest rabbit I had seen. I certainly did not want to fall down that hole, that was an accident, and I don’t know why I was touching your horse, it just seemed so very interesting.” The rabbit’s whiskers shook as he twitched his nose. He looked back at the rocking horse, then at Alice again.

“I should have the Heart Guards drag you away to the Queen, you know. But perhaps I might forgive you, especially if you really think I am the prettiest rabbit you ever saw.”

“I don’t really understand, I think I may have gone quite mad!”

“You certainly seem quite mad to me!”

“I just want to go home, really, Mr Rabbit, can you show me how to go home?”

“I should think you will have to ask the Queen, or perhaps the Cockturtle. I suppose I could show you the way, but I am not sure I’m not inclined to help you after you’ve ruined my house.” Alice was quite in a pickle. She must have gone insane, she reasoned, but what else could she do but play along with this?

“I am very sorry, is there something I could do to make it better?” She asked earnestly.

“Hmm. Perhaps. Let me look at you, first, lift your arms for me,” the rabbit replied. Alice’s eyes widened in surprise. What harm is there, she mused, he is, after all, a rabbit, and I am, after all, a girl. She raised her arms up, exposing again her breasts and pussy. She saw his eyes wandering over her naked body, his mouth open.

“Now, turn around, and bend over that chest there…” he whispered. Alice did as she was told, curious at the strange demand. She felt the rough metal under her, cold but not too cold. She heard him moving, but then suddenly there were two hairy paws pressing into her back and Alice realized with a sickening certainty what the Rabbit planned to do.

“Oh, no, please, please don’t!” She squealed, but it was to no avail, even as she tried to lift herself off the chest she felt his hard dick stabbing into her thighs, his fur brushing the back of her legs. She screamed, a great sobbing howl as he grunted, and shoved, his thin but very hard prick suddenly forcing into her virgin pussy. There was an explosion of pain as her hymen split, and it only got worse as the rabbit humped her, driving his dick fully inside her and getting faster. Alice moaned, long and low, her eyes blurred with tears.

“Shut the fuck up!” growled the rabbit. His body pressed down on her back, the fur sticking to the sweat that had broken out on her skin, his thin hard prick rammed mercilessly into her. Alice’s hands gripped the chest tightly, her teeth were gritted against the pain, which was starting to subside, she realized. As his furious fucking continued she found her thoughts drifting. She began to think of her room in the house, and she tried to count the toys she had stacked on shelves, anything to avoid thinking of the furry creature that was intently raping her. She had always assumed she’d lose her virginity to one of the young boys that worked at the house, she’d imagined experimenting with one of them, a gentle and loving bout of play. Perhaps Tom, the kitchen hand, who was always so kind to her. Perhaps he’d have found her after dark, and they would have played teasing games until, eventually, she’d allowed him inside her. The thought of his strong hands touching her, exploring her body, young and eager, but scared a little, it would have been better than this, but anything would be better than this.

Alice realized that something was happening, the rabbit had stopped moving, his cock firmly inside her, he was panting and then there was a sudden gush of hot liquid in her. He had come, the rabbit had come in her. He had raped her, fucked her, and now he had come in her, and now he was pulling out, leaving her bruised and sore.

“There, that’ll teach you to be more considerate!” He grumbled as he stepped away. Alice got to her feet weakly, tears running down her face.

“You raped me!” She cried.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Who’s to tell? Anyway, you ought to be grateful I didn’t fuck your tight little arse, and don’t think I wasn’t tempted!”

“You’re horrible! You’re a horrible, horrible thing!” Alice sobbed. She felt something on her thighs, and realized with a groan that the rabbit’s semen was trickling out.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. But don’t think that makes us even! One little screw won’t make up for my roof, young lady.” Alice stared as the rabbit walked away, pausing by a shelf to retrieve a cigar and a match.

“Now, don’t stand there crying all day. If you want to get home, you’d best go see the Queen.”

“How do I get to the Queen?” The rabbit grunted, his match flared to life and he lit the cigar. He exhaled, a swirl of blue smoke curled towards the ceiling. He then opened the door, letting light flood into the room.

“Head down the valley, then cross the river, you’ll find someone there, ask them to help you find the Cockturtle, he might help you. Now, get the fuck out, and don’t let me catch you again, or I’ll give you another lesson, and I won’t be gentle that time.”

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