("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Alice In Wonderland by Jack Rabbit (address withheld) *** In this parody of the movie, Alice's adventures in Wonderland begin without her panties. She discovers that many of the odd characters she meets are easily aroused by what they see of her. (g/M, g/beast, mast, voy, first, movie-parody, fantasy) *** From the Desk of ALICE Dear mother goose, Your collection of sensual confessional stories from the various fantasy stars reminded me of what was left out of my story in the movie about following the white rabbit on his hurried mission to Wonderland. I thought I might share the rest of this story with your readers. I'm older and wiser now, but back then it was all a wonderful adventure when I was a girl who believed that reality could change if you wanted it to. My trek to Wonderland took place one lazy afternoon in May, sitting under an oak tree in the middle of a meadow ablaze with the color of thousands of wildflower. I remember it well. I was wearing a blue dress with a white apron. Mother was trying to read to me from a boring book about English history. I think it was an account of the chivalry period of nights and ladies and small kingdoms and royal families after King Arthur. Whatever she was trying to teach me, it was too nice a day for me to pay attention. I would rather play with my kitten Dinah and daydream about adventures and romance. I was a young girl at the time, and you know how we are at that age. Mother was sharp with me for not paying attention. She scolded that I should learn about the history of our people. An educated young lady would want to know the way things are in the world. It was too nice of a day to concentrate on academics. If her history book had pictures and romance and humor I would have been more attentive. I slipped down from the tree branch I was sitting on, and rolled around on the ground among the daisies. Stupid. I felt something wet and squishy on my leg. I had rolled on to a small pile of dog poop. It missed my skirt, barely, but it made a mess on my leg and on my panties. I didn't want to continue wearing the messy garment, and did not want to leave the meadow. Mother noticed when I slipped the underwear off, rolled it up, and stuck it in my handbag. She scolded me once more for exposing myself in public, and then she continued with her history lessons. I returned to playing with my kitten. I muttered to kitten Dinah that in my world everything would be different. Things would not be what they appear, and what we see would surprise us by constantly defying the rules. Up would be down. Serious would be silly. Ridiculous would be normal. My thoughts about an imaginary world were distracted suddenly when I watched a white rabbit running by. Dressed in a costume, holding a big pocket watch, and talking to himself. He paused, looked at me, said, "I'm late. I'm late. For a very important date. No time to say goodbye. Hello. I'm late, I'm late, I'm late." He hopped away, and then disappeared into a rabbit hole at the base of a nearby tree. I was curious. "Mister Rabbit." Crawling on all fours with the kitten behind me, I followed him down the rabbit hole. A rabbit wearing a costume and speaking English. That would be part of my upside down world. Where would he go? Suddenly, I fell down a deep shaft, waving goodbye to kitten Dinah as I left. It was a long, long fall. My dress and petticoats popped out like an umbrella, slowing my decent like a parachute. At the bottom I found myself in a well illuminated lobby with a checkered tiled floor. The only exit was a side door that was way too small for me. The door was alive, and could talk. Looking up at me wide eyed at where my panties should be, it whistled and smiled and winked and then mentioned how nice I looked. Remembering that I had removed my panties, I blushed that the talking door was looking at my naked pee-pee. I pushed my dress against my legs to cover my exposure, and then asked about the white rabbit. The door explained that the rabbit had continued on to the gardens past the door. The door clarified for me that to shrink small enough to go through the door I needed to drink from a bottle that happened to be there. I shrank to the right size following a sip from the bottle, only to be told I needed the key from the adjacent table to open the door. The taste of wafer near the table made me big again, so that I could get the key. Too big to fit through the door. I started to cry with frustration, raining excess tears that flooded the room. As the teardrops hit the floor, they each expanded to massive quantities of water. The door, hoping to avoid drowning, urged me to drink from the bottle again. I downed the whole thing. That immediately shrank me to smaller than the bottle. I dropped inside the bottle, that was by then floating in the flooded room. Currents swept the bottle, with me in it, through the door's key hole into a stormy ocean beyond, where I was splashed about by the stormy waves. The waves splashed and bounced my bottle, eventually filling it with enough water to sink it. Splashing about, trying to keep my head above water, I feared I might drown. Instead, I was washed up near a shoreline by the surf. Wading through the breakers, I hastened to join a crowd of colorful creatures dancing in a circle around a dodo bird, who was perched on an outcrop above the surf. The cycle of the breaking surf was such that the dancing circle was splashed over by incoming breakers, followed by the water receded until the next wave. All were repeatedly submerged except the dodo, who kept singing a catchy tune to help keep us dancing around the circle. We kept getting flooded by the incoming breakers. The dodo promised that we would soon be dry if we kept dancing around the circle. Silly dodo. Every time the breakers hit, it rolled me and the other creatures for a loop. Those creatures were gasping for air, dizzy, and disoriented, but the dodo was fine. I remember thinking at the time that the big bottomed dodo with his humongous beak looked an dressed like Mister Elliott, a retired old sea captain who wanders our neighborhood telling everyone how they should do the most ridiculous tasks that he wouldn't do himself. He noticed my bare bottom when I tumbled in the surf. With a developing erection between his legs, he urged me to join him on his higher standing, it would help me dry faster. I decided to leave his beach and walk out of the water into the undergrowth beyond the beach instead. I thought I saw the white rabbit go there. "Wait, Mr. Rabbit." I followed a pathway into a dense forest, but soon lost sight of Mister Rabbit. I was still sopping wet, needing a moment to dry, so I decided to slow down. At a hollow log, surrounded by green bushes and trees, I figured I was hidden enough to try to dry off. I slipped out of my dress and petticoats. I draped the clothes over a low tree branch to dry, and then sat down on the log to wait for the clothes to dry. Quietly enjoying the sun and the breeze on my bare skin, I felt naughty but it felt good. I thought about how I wished I were older with larger breasts and shapely hips. Not yet. I had the body of a young girl. I had no breast to speak of, just pink nipples, stiffening in the breeze, and the tight, bare, pudgy lips of a young girl's pee pee between my legs. I was happy to have the obscure spot to dry. I stretched out on my back on the log, closed my eyes, and tried to imagine where I was. The warming sun felt restful. Then I felt a tingling in my breasts and abdomen like something was touching me. No, I sensed that someone was watching. I opened my eyes to be surprised. Two identical little round men were standing next to the tree; both staring with happy smiles. They were dressed in strange red and yellow uniform outfits. It was too late to protect my modesty. I blushed at their silent smiles. Their trousers bulged in a way that telegraphed their aroused fascination with my naked body. Labels on their shirts read 'Tweedle Dee' and 'Tweedle Dum'. They reminded me of a two men I've seen in town who work in the factory. I thought of them because they are always talking and acting silly. When I sat up, they introduced themselves with a little song and dance routine. I started to stand, but they pleaded for me not to go. They would tell me the story of the Walrus and the Carpenter. The promise of a story caught my attention. It was a silly, poetic recitation. The walrus and the carpenter were walking along a beach, crossing from day to night to day, searching for females to romance and food to eat. When the carpenter suggested work to build a place on the beach, the walrus tut-tutted the whole idea. "Let us talk of other things. Let's talk of shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings, of why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings." As he prattled they happened on a maid so pretty and inviting, she looked a lot like me, except that she was older, bustier, and had dark hair. Dressed in a flower wrap, she looked enticing for the two wanders as she sat in the sand waiting. She offered her charms for a house on the beach and some food to taste. The walrus continued to sing to her about 'other things – shoes and ships and sealing wax - of cabbages and kings – and why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings' – while the carpenter discovered a bed of oysters in the waters near her shore. The carpenter quickly built a cabin above the beach with a bedroom to rest the maid, a kitchen to cook the oysters, and a dining room to eat the meal. While the carpenter worked so fast and excitedly, hoping to share the charms of the beach maid and the meal of oysters, the walrus indulged himself. He took advantage of the sensual charms of the pretty maid with the promise of food, and then gorged himself on oysters, sharing nary a one. Miffed at the slight, the maid gather her wrap and walked away. When the hungry, horny carpenter came from the kitchen he found the empty oyster shells and the empty bedroom – and all that was left was a happy walrus who burped and smiled, his pants a mess of goo – signaling that no rewards remained for the carpenter. Enraged, the carpenter immediately chased after the walrus with his hammer on high. The story was entertaining, but made no sense. I read the minds of Tweedle Dee and also Tweedle Dum. As they provided their tales, they smiled so happily, their pants bulging their excitement at the sight of at my naked female body. They danced and sang and laid their hands on me in hopes that I could share their hope for frolick. The hands on my hips felt strange, but what they offered scared me, and what they wanted I was not ready to share. As they began to sing and dance to tell another curious tale, I gathered my clothes, and walked quickly away. They pleaded for me to stay, but as I left I stated, "But I must find white rabbit!" As I strolled I quickly donned my still drying my clothes. I would have waited, but I needed distance from the suggestive chubby little twins. After a bit of a walk following a path thru the forest, the woods opened to a small two story house. There I saw the white rabbit at the window muttering about the time. As I approached the front door, the white rabbit bumped into me on his hurry to come out. Calling me Mary Anne, he instructed me to go in for his gloves. I did not know any Mary Anne. Mr. Rabbit vaguely reminded me of someone I knew I had met, but I couldn't recall any details. I was curious about Mr. Rabbit, but I dashed upstairs to look for his gloves. Not in the dresser drawers or on the table. I was perplexed. In a small box near the bed was a stash of cookies embossed with frosting that read 'Eat Me'. I was hungry, so I indulged myself. Once again I started growing, bigger and bigger. White Rabbit had come back in the house to hurry the search for his gloves, only to be pushed aside when my expanding size pushed him down the stairs with one of my enlarging feet. He slipped to the side of the living room as my legs pushed through the front and side door. Oh my. Not again! My body occupied the whole house; my head pushed into the rafters, and my feet sticking out in the yard. I was able to push the second floor window shutters open as I was getting myself oriented to how I was trapped in the house. Then I realized that Mr. Rabbit, the size of one of my hands, was himself trapped between my legs in the living room. Starting to panic, he began pawing at the fluffed open petals of my slit, a furry paw repeatedly rubbing the clitoris nub. Ooh. That felt wonderful. I sensed a heightening wave of pleasure as he cried out, "Help, a monster is in my house." I sensed a surge in dampness leaking from my loins. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rabbit." I was enjoying the pawing. "Oooh." At this point he stopped pawing, turned to open the window, and crawled outside. "Help, monster." The building erotic sense of pleasure ebbed. The cool breeze blowing between my legs gave me goosebumps. White Rabbit, dashing about the yard yelling about the monster, bumped into the Dodo bird walking up the path. The dodo paused, took a puff from his pipe, then looked in the living room window. "This monster looks like a maid who washed up on the beach." He climbed in the window, then pushed his hand into my aroused, moist opening. I sucked in air at the delicate feeling that reaching arm created in my open legs. A minute later he was out, and to calm the excited white rabbit, he offered to solve the problem by smoking the monster out. Despite Mr. Rabbit's protests, Dodo started gathering furniture and clocks and materials from the yard to build a fire. I couldn't let this happen. I sensed I needed to eat something else to resize myself. I reached my arm out a second story window for a carrot growing in the garden. Mr. Rabbit tried to stop my raid of his garden, but I won the tug of war. I then took a nibble. Once again, I shrank. Withdrawing my feet back thru the house, I was reduced smaller than before, to the size of Mr. Rabbit's foot. I dashed from the house, past the dodo, who was still building a fire. Mr. Rabbit, trying to stop the dodo, ignored me, and looked at his pocket watch. "I'm late. I'm late. No time to say goodbye. Hello. I'm late." He hopped away down the path. I tried to follow, but he was too big and fast. After awhile I was tired and sensually distracted. My bare pee pee pulsated with frustration, still aroused from the actions by the rabbit and the dodo. I needed to sit down and rub myself. I stopped in a flower garden to start a pleasure massaging, trying to imagine Mr. Rabbit exploring what I had between my legs. Before I could do anything I heard voices. I was surrounded by a garden full of female talking blossoms. They explained the bread and butterflies and the rocking horseflies buzzing through their shrubbery, then introduced themselves. There were daisies and pretty pansies and marigolds and daffodils. Led by an aristocratic orchid and some regal roses, they started singing as a community choir a lovely tune about the flowers. I liked their music, and joined in with my own vocal rendition. The faces and voices of the flowers made me think of the ladies in the community social club my Mother used to belong to. That was until they started questioning what type of flower I was. I told them I wasn't a flower, I was an Alice. They had never heard of an Alice, so they decided I must be a common weed. They didn't want to associate with weeds, so they chased me away. They even dumped a leaf full of water again, once again making me all wet. It was good that the day was so pleasant, or I would have gotten sick from being nearly drowned so often. A little further along the trail I was attracted to the inviting sounds of someone reciting the vowels echoing from a clearing. "Ae – EE – Eye – Oh – U." There I found a large caterpillar, bigger than me at the moment, sitting on a portabella mushroom reciting poetry while smoking a hallucinogenic pipe. I stopped to sit on the next mushroom and listen to his poetry. I pondered that maybe he could satisfy my uncompleted sensual frustrations, but when he became aware of my presence he got obnoxious, blowing smoke in my face while asking, "Who – are – you?" He invited me to go away when I explained. Then I protested that if I were my normal size I would not be so easy to intimidate. Morphing within a cloud of smoke, he transformed into a butterfly before my eyes. Before he fluttered away, he advised me how to control my size; that, "One side would make me grow, the other side would make me small." When I inquired about the side of what, I heard 'Mushroom' floating back on the breeze. I broke off two piece of the mushroom I was sitting on, one from each side, and nibbled on one. I suddenly enlarged to as big as a tree. When I realized what had happened, I took a bite of the other piece. That shrank me to smaller than I had been before. Finally, I licked the first piece again. I zoomed up to my right size. Dropping those pieces of mushroom into my apron pockets, I started walking the trail again, hoping to find where Mr. Rabbit was going in such a hurry. Following the trail for awhile, I stopped at a fork. Posted signs and trails hinted I should go four different directions plus up, down, and back. I was confused. As I stood perplexed, trying to figure a direction, a soft sing-song voice wafted through the air. Then, up on a branch appeared two eyes and a wide toothy grin. Finally, the purple striped physique of a chessar cat appeared. Smiling down on me, he offered advise on where to find White Rabbit. He then contradicted his first statements. Parts of him faded in and out of sight. When I asked again which way I should go, he disappeared from the branch. Parts of him reappeared on the path in front of me. As he prattled, his fluffy tail slid under the hem on my dress. I could feel a furry body rubbing my legs the way that cats rub against people. Lifting the skirt to see the cat, I mutter, "Mr. Cat, what are you looking... oooh... that feels nice." I could sense him nuzzling within the slit of my pubic mound. I heard purring. Then his tongue started licking the nub. The waves of pleasurable sensation pulsated through me. He then walked away behind me. "Don't stop Mr. Cat. I liked that." The Chessar Cat blinked out on the path, and reappeared on another branch. As he continued to fade in and out he suggested that if I wanted to know where to find White Rabbit, I should ask the Mad Hatter to the left, or the March Hare to the right. Then he disappeared. Once again I was standing alone, confused, horny, and frustrated. I dusted my skirt, then started walking. A short trek down one of the paths brought me to a noisy yard party in front of cute cottage. At a table for twenty, I found the Mad Hatter, the March Hare, and a little door mouse having a crazy party. At first they tried to chase me off for being rude by coming to their party without an invitation. Then they offered tea for a new guest. Finally, the two talkative and silly residents had me join in with their 'Unbirthday Celebration." It seemed like fun. It was my 'Unbirthday' also. They put a cake in front of me with instructions to blow out the candle and make a wish. When I did, the cake fired into the air, then burst with a blaze of color like a holiday skyrocket. These two were crazy, funny, and fun. I liked them. I was still aroused from the naughty contact earlier. Maybe these two might be able to satisfy my continuing sexual frustration. When they were pulling me around the table for a 'Shift Position' musical chairs dance, I stumbled. Rolling on the ground, I ended on my hand and knees with my skirt flaired up over my waist. I paused to catch my breath, giving the rest of the party a good view of my bare bottom and the pink pubic lips between my legs. The Hatter and the Hare both paused, saying to each other that what I had was just the gift they wanted for their Unbirthday. Without hurrying to get up, I watched them looking at me. They each opened their trousers. Two large, erect shafts were suddenly in view to be hand rubbed. I gasped. They looked way too big for me. I got up before they could try to mount me from behind. We exchanged silly comments for a few minutes. Fascinated by the two erections I was seeing, I felt a surge of desire for something like that, but I declined to let them enter me with those. They were both too big. I offered to let them rub my private parts, if that would help. I took off my dress, put it aside, then stood to give them a show. My tiny pink nipples turned hard in the breeze and my pubic area longed for physical contact. At their suggestion, I bent over a chair where I watched the Hatter grasped his manhood with one hand, raising the other in the air. He giggled while rubbing himself up and down. At the same time, with me bent over, the Hare approached me from the back to explore my bare bottom. I felt one hand on my buttocks cheek, while fingers on the other hand slid between my legs. Those fingers rubbing back and forth across my slit made it difficult for me to stand, let alone focus on the Hatter before me. I closed my eyes. The Hare's finger slipped and slid within opening. Sensational waves of uterus muscle spasms pulsed in my loins as his fingers went deep inside me. Without opening my eyes, I sensed the withdraw of his fingers. He knelt between my legs. Instead of his finger, his tongue probed me. I humped out my hips to meet his pushing tongue. Just as I began hitting a pulsating climax, the Hatter demanded a shift of players. I was not finished. My insides continued to erupt as the Hatter stepped between my legs. He started with one hand massaging a nipple on one of my barely discernable breasts, the other hand sliding fingers over my crack. Urging me to close my eyes. I felt his finger start to push inside me. It was a big finger. My body resisted, and there was a sharp pain when he pushed through my maiden head. It felt like I was being stuffed beyond capacity. I felt hands on both breasts. My eyes popped open, and was about to object, but just then he pushed his hips so that his manhood drove deep. It felt tight and wonderful. "Oh my God." I burst with a pulsating climax. Simultaneously, I felt his shaft filling me with liquid. I was angry and happy at the same time. White Rabbit appeared out of the forest just as we dressed ourselves again and were preparing more tea and cake. Reacting to the frantic rabbit waving his pocket watch, Hatter took the watch, opened it, dunked it in the tea, and said, "This is two days slow." With Hare blocking Rabbit's effort to retrieve his watch, Hatter proceeded to fix the watch by adding salt and sugar and tea and jam. When the watch started bouncing around, he smashed it with a mallet. White Rabbit couldn't deal with the madness any more. He muttered that he was late, and hopped off down the path. I had enough myself. I put on my dressed. "Mr. Rabbit, wait for me." I followed. Looking back over my shoulder, I observed the Hare and the Hatter sharing more tea and making themselves happy with vigorous self abuse. I lost sight of Mr. Rabbit. As I continued further into the deep woods I began to grow weary of this whole trip thru the silly sights of Wonderland. I was losing interest in trying to follow the white rabbit, and started wanting to go home. As I proceeded I encountered all types of strange creatures, glasses with legs, birds made out of umbrellas, ducks made of squeeze horns, dogs made of shovels, and so on. It was all so crazy and silly. I had seen so many strange things and this was all a great fanciful adventure, but I had a warm feeling in my belly for having experimented with arousal. Now it was dark and I was tired. Which way to go home? A crescent moon suddenly illuminated the trail I was on. Then that moon changed into the chessar cat again. When I asked the cat for directions, he responded that I should not go until I visit the queen, where the White Rabbit had gone. Royalty? If that is where Mr. Rabbit is, I would like to see. If there is a queen reining over this enchanted wonderland, her royal highness would be able to tell me how to get home. How do I get there? The cat responded that some go left, and some go right, but he prefers the short cut. He opened a doorway through a tree that provided access to the royal gardens. I could see a brightly lit palace on a hill above the dense green hedges I confronted when I went through the portal. I began to rapidly follow the pathways between the various rows of hedges, but those hedge walls were formed to create a confusing labyrinth maze, a supreme puzzle to someone with a map of the gardens, but an impossible maze for a visitor exploring it for the first time. I repeatedly followed twisting pathways to dead ends and trails that doubled back to where I had already been. I slowed my rush, and was ready to stop to cry, when I heard singing. It was a choir of three male voices singing, "We're painting the roses red. We're painting the roses red." The singing was nearby, and I found pathways cutting through the hedges that led me directly into a rose garden. There I met three soldiers, with bodies from individual cards from a deck of cards, the Ace, Duce, and Three of Clubs, each armed with a spear. They were busily splashing red paint on the white blossoms of a series of tall rose bushes. When I inquired why were they painting the flowers, they nearly panicked. They had planted white roses by mistake. The queen was the Queen of Hearts, and as such expected all her blossoms to be red. She was irrational and quick to anger. If she found out the roses were white, then they all would lose their heads. When I heard that, I empathized with the three card soldiers. "In that case, I'd like to help." I picked up a paint brush, began splashing paint on the roses. I joined the chorus to sing "we're painting the roses red. Or we will lose our heads. They can't be white, they must be red, so we're painting the roses red." Suddenly, our merry singing and painting was interrupted by the blare of royal trumpets announcing the approach of her royal highness, preceded by the marching formations of several hundred playing card soldiers. The military formations marched in precise columns that arrived in the rose garden. Once there, they took up positions to honor the royal arrival. As they approached, the four of us quickly stashed the paint supplies, then stretched out prostate on the ground as required subservience to her highness's appearance. Abruptly, White Rabbit step forward with a scroll to officially announce the arrival of her royal highness, the Queen of Hearts. He added as a soft spoken after thought, "Oh, and also the King." The large robust Queen walked up from among her guardian cards, accompanied by her mousy, pint sized king. She stopped and bellowed, "Silence." She looked at the rose bushes, where the fresh paint was dripping from the blossoms. She had an instant angry expression combined with a reddened face of rage. She stomped up to the rose bush, ran a finger across one of the painted flowers, then bellowed, "Who has tampered with the royal flowers. For this offense, someone will lose his head." The three cards hurriedly attempted to justify their actions, blaming each other. Their defensive pleadings were cut short with a royal scream, "Silence. Off with their heads." In a moment guardian cards were hauling the three cards away to their fate. I feared a similar outcome, when the cute little King timidly asked what I was. I gulped, in anticipation. However, the Queen's bellicose manner softened. "Why, this is a girl." Then, before I could react, she told the King, "You should confirm it." She proceded to inspect the rest of the garden. A small tent was quickly set up next to me, and while the Queen was busy, the King led me into the tent. There he had me stand before him. "Well, my dear, I need to confirm that you are a girl." I nodded agreement, responding, "Yes, your highness." He directed me to raise my skirt. I blushed and swallowed. I raised my skirt to my waist. With a wry little smile, he said, "You look like a girl." He asked me to spread my legs a little. He reached out to place his hand between my legs. The unanticipated fingers slipping within the lips of my vagina felt ticklish, but caused an escalation in sensual arousal. I tried to avoid reacting. "You feel like a girl." He moved a stepping stool in front of me. The pint-sized king stepped up on the stool so that our bodies were at the same level. With my arm holding my skirt to my waist, I watched him open the fly to his pants and pulled out his small erection. With one hand on my hip, he used his other hand to guide the small stiff manhood into my opening. Finding his proper pathway, he used both hands on my hips to push himself as deeply inside me as he could go. My vagina resisted temporarily, but having just done this with the Hatter, my pussy was pleasantly accommodating this further contact. A little shaky on my feet, I smiled while continuing to hold my dress to my waist. I stared down at the top of his head. He used his mouth to nibble at my excited nipples through the fabric of my dress. I moaned a little "Oh my!" He pumped his hips into me. It felt so wonderful, this royal penetration, that I soon began pulsating my vaginal muscles to grip and release his manhood as he began squirting inside me. After a few minutes his royal penis soften. He withdrew from me. He straightened himself, got down from the stool, and signaled me to let my skirt down. "Yes, your highness." I felt as if he stopped too soon for me. I lowered my dress. We exited the tent, where he told the garden crowd. "I confirm that she is a girl." The Queen, returning from her inspection of the garden, mumbled, "Good to know. Who are you, little lady?" She smiled down at me. "Do not try to flirt with the king. You must curtsy when you speak. Open your mouth to speak. Where are you from? Where are you going?" "I am lost," I said cautiously, "I am trying to find my way home." "Your way?" The Queen's temper started to flare. "Why must it be your way? This is not your way." I stammered to try to apologize. The Queen reversed attitude again. She smiled, and asked, "Do you play croquet?" When I agreed, the assembly of soldier cards shifted positions in a frenzied manner, setting up a croquet field with soldier cards setting themselves in position as the loops for the balls to go through. The Queen grabbed a croquet mallet, a living, laughing, colorful stork. She hammered the ball, a round fat little furry creature that went rolling before it could be hit. The soldier card loops quickly adjusted their set positions so that the rolling creature ball went through to give the Queen a good score. One soldier card loop missed his readjustment. An enraged Queen had him hauled away to lose his head. For me the game was more difficult. Those silly stork- mallets wrestled with me, and caused a great deal of havoc. Anyway, the game continued for a few more turns, when the chessar cat began appearing and disappearing from the Queen's shoulder and back. Finally, the cat grabbed the neck of the Queen's stork-mallet during her back swing, hooked it's beak to the hem of her skirt. The forward swing flipped the Queen upside down. An abruptly furious Queen began screaming. "Someone will lose their head for this." As she got herself together again, I tried to explain about the cat, but she would have none of that. "You did this. You will lose your head." The mousy little king interceded, asking for a trial first. Just a little trial. It was a silly trial, with nonsensical procedures and witness testimonies, followed immediately by a guilty verdict and an execution sentence from the Queen. About this time I grew weary of the ridiculous trial. I pulled the mushroom pieces from my apron pockets, and took a nibble. I immediately grew to a height five times larger than anyone else. I began scolding the Queen, the soldier cards, the White Rabbit, and all of the other ridiculous life forms in the court. I continued on even though the growth effect suddenly reversed, reducing me back to proper size. Before the Queen could react with new angry orders against me, I pushed my way through the soldier cards, and began to run. I ran wildly through the hedge mazes closely followed by the Queen and her soldiers. I ran through the forests, passing all the silly animals. I passed the dodo as he was leaving Mr. Rabbit's house, and rushed across the Mad Hatter's table where I fell into a large cup of tea. The tea became the ocean that nearly drowned me when I first started. With so many closing in on me from behind, and nearly drowning again, I knew I was in trouble. Ahead was the talking door, and I pleaded with it for help to get out. It responded that I already was outside, that I should look through the keyhole. There I was, asleep under the tree. Behind me was the Queen with her soldiers highlighted by a flashing, spinning sky. "Alice. Wake up. Alice." I opened my eyes to see mother shaking my arm. "You missed a most of your history lesson." My eyes fluttered open. I lay for a minute, mumbling. "I had such a strange dream." "Well, it's getting late," She turned to put her books and blankets and things in her basket, "We need to be getting home." I sensed a heightening erotic warm fuzzy wetness between my legs. Underneath my skirt my kitten Dinah was purring, snuggled up to my loins, using her two front paws to alternately press and draw back from my pubic mound. She was happily suckling on the clitoris nub and licking juices that were oozing out. I liked the feeling, but blushed with embarrassment. I picked up Dinah and adjusted my hemline before Mother could notice. END This fantasy sexual parody of a popular fairy tale was written as a fictional creative erotic flight of imagination. The author does not condone actual sexual conduct with children. However, literary sexual fiction is comparable to crime story gangsters killing of opponents. Both add to exciting fiction, but both in real life are immoral, dangerous, and wrong; those adventures should remain fiction. Additional Jack Rabbit erotic Fairy Tale parodies posted: Alice In Wonderland Peter Pan Pinocchio Snow White Chronicles (Kristen Archives, Directory: Just First Time Stories) Wolf 1, Grandma (Kristen Archives, Directory: 52) Wolf 2, Hansel & Gretel (Kristen Archives, Directory: 52) Wolf 3, Jack (Kristen Archives, Directory: 52) Wolf 4, Ten Little Indians(Kristen Archives, Directory: 52) Wolf 5, Three Little Pigs(Kristen Archives, Directory: 52) Wolf 6, Red Riding Hood (Kristen Archives, Directory: 52) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 56