Allison's Adventures in Wonderland: Chapter I

The Mad Hatter’s Pee Party

It was an ordinary day for me. I’d begun a large order for a client sure to keep me busy for weeks. The White Rabbit had just taken his place and had begun pouring tea for the two of us. After sitting back down, his nose began to twitch more than usual.

“What’s that” he asked looking around?

“What’s what” I asked without the slightest curiosity to his reference?

However, before he could reply, a girl, neither old, nor too young appeared through the hedge. She was panting, a bit sweaty, with nicks in her white hose. Her light blue party dress Widgie, what’s a girl doing coming thru my hedge wearing a party dress? was disheveled and lightly damp with perspiration. The skirt portion was short enough that it was standing out more than hanging down in the back because of her nice, rounded derrière. Her stockings rose just a few inches above her knees, displaying exactly the right amount of bare leg to arrest my attention. Needless to say, the entire frilly ensemble combined perfectly to accentuate her feminine form. Her hair was tangled and her chest heaved silently as she caught her breath taking in the sight. Then, surprised at seeing others in the clearing asked,

“Have you seen him?”

“Seen whom” I replied.

“My cat” she said with astonishment. “Seems I’ve been chasing him all day.” Given her looks, I had to agree. I continued,

“There has been no cat visit us here today. We get so few strangers here that even a stray cat would have been persuaded to take tea with us before moving on.” Then without further ado, I asked, “Would you be so kind as to join two lonely bachelors? From the looks of it, you could use some time to rest and recoup.”

Confused, she moved to go, then stopped and asked, “just exactly where is ‘here’ anyway?”

Given her current state of confusion, I simply motioned for her to come and sit beside me. Of course by this time my subconscious mind had already begun entertaining ideas to stall such a beautiful creature for the afternoon. Hesitant at first, she cautiously approached the spare seat to my left, brushed down her ruffled dress, and sat with a polite smile. I’ll never forget that smile, so innocent, so sweet, so . . . sensual. Where oh, where are you from little girl? She looked familiar somehow, but I couldn’t place how or why. Clearly neither I nor the White Rabbit had ever seen her before. So before trying to answer ‘where’ she was, I said, “Perhaps a bit of tea will help calm your nerves.”

“Thank you” she said primly and properly. “Perhaps some refreshment would help. I’ve been chasing that naughty cat for hours.” Then, feeling an inner pang of hesitation, she asked, “Are you quite sure I’m not intruding?” When I smiled, she had her answer and consciously made to sit up straight.

What a mixture of curiosity and caution, playfulness and fight; Spunk! Widgie, she’s got spunk, I can sense it.  She seemed so naive but intelligent; transparent but reserved; vulnerable yet open to endless possibilities . . . independent. Would she be eager to please also? Widgie, she’s not like the other girls, whose pussies I used as pin cushions for my long, sharp hat pins as they writhed in agony on my work bench, swollen lips full of pain and steel. They had to be bound spread eagled in order to serve me properly. She seems wonderfully different somehow. Willing even? Regardless, I’m sure her labia will also provide a useful place to hang my clamps while working. Maybe I’ll make a ring for her, Widgie . . .maybe.

Looking up, I caught that neurotic White Rabbit high-strung little sh . . . having produced a cup and saucer for her, reaching for the tea pot, so I smacked his paw to remind him who the real host was. He sheepishly Ha! a rabbit mimicking a sheep backed off and sat down with a downward glance and nod. Remember your Master you lapine lout, or she and I’ll be having you for dinner!

True to form, the tea did its job. After a couple of cups, she informed me that her name was Allison James, and proper introductions proceeded around the table. In the conversation which followed we learned that in reality she was in her late 20’s and from some strange, far away land College she called it but far more important for the events I have yet to relate, she’d come ‘here’ alone.

With the preliminaries aside, soon we were laughing and telling jokes. The White Rabbit even induced me to pose a riddle or two, all of which Allison quickly solved.  Such a bright, curious girl. She was full of a thousand questions. Whenever her curiosity became taxing however, defensively and quite innocently, either the White Rabbit or myself offered her yet another cup of tea which she always devoured as though she hadn’t drunk anything in ages. Finally, I become intoxicated by her charm and wanted nothing more than to bask in it as long as I could. Her spell affected me deeply and drew out a visceral, carnal, and yes, even a savage response; a yearning which had lain dormant and unsatisfied longer than I cared to remember, a yearning which only the most sophisticated and beautiful high society ladies could draw out in the past; and then only incompletely. However, she was more rough and ready than they, eager to play and always moving. No pretence here, no artificial polish or finish; she was raw girl, candor in motion. Yet, in her embodiment of vis femina lay something I wanted, no, had to have it! something I’d had once, or at least fancied I had: some hedonistic déjà vu. Little could I know at the time how far that embryonic impulse would take Allison and me. Recognizing the awakened fire within, I proceeded to concentrate my attention on possessing her, looking for, hoping for, anything which might offer me a hook, some innocent intervening device, offering entree to her. For in spite of the very brief nature of this first encounter, I knew three things: one, she was unlike any girl I’d ever known; two, that I wanted her deeply; and lastly, that even though we’d met only a short time ago, somehow we fit – I could read it in her expressions and interactions – we were comfortable together – a match.  

The banter and fun went on for quite some time, and as the day began to wane, I noticed during her more absent minded moments she would ‘wiggle’ in her seat. Nothing terribly overt, but a motion, an antsy nervousness if you will, which can be observed in the very youngest at play when they become so enraptured in what they are doing that they hate giving up a moment of play time for nature breaks. Over a short time, I watched her through the fun and frivolity. It became obvious that Allison had to attend to a certain bodily function. In the short hiatus between understanding that fact myself versus when she became aware of it, I had sufficient time to light upon a simple and elegant idea, sure to appeal to her curious naiveté and keep her around until at least morning. Who knew, given enough time, an unattached girl, lost in the woods, might be persuaded to stay indefinitely. I can always use another helper around the shop, Widgie.

After the White Rabbit had completely lost interest in the proceedings, such a dull fellow, I continued to play the gentleman and offered her cup after cup of tea. After even more stories and riddles she began noticeably moving in her chair, until finally I asked her with ingenuine civility, “Are you alright?”

Looking around with a twinge of embarrassment, she shyly conceded that yes, in fact she needed to relieve herself and was wondering where she could do so. Without any hesitation, I offered her the use of my home for that purpose along with a bed for the evening, explaining that I had a lovely spare room, would enjoy more of her company, and that it was nearly dusk and no time for a disoriented young lady to be alone in the woods.

“Thank you” she replied, “that’s very kind of you. But only if you’re certain I won’t be intruding upon your generosity.”

“Don’t think twice about it” I immediately replied. “I live here alone, well, at least without other human companionship. The rabbit sleeps in his warren at night. I don’t’ get much company out here and I rather miss it. So if you allow me this small hospitality, take my arm and we’ll get going. Time, I imagine, is of the essence” I said with a wink and a smirk.

“Oh, yes!” she said.

With a smile and my arm extended to her, Allison rose quickly, slid her arm through mine and we walked . . . um, enthusiastically, shall we say, towards the house. Such an exuberant girl! Before we crested the shallow hill, she stopped and asked,

“Shouldn’t we clean up after tea first?”

Wait, Widgie, such a servile attitude. Is she really more concerned about my dirty dishes than her own needs? Oooh, she might be perfect. Let’s find out!

“No, that’s what the White Rabbit does for me. He arranges tea and cleans up afterwards when the weather is warm and sunny enough for us to partake outdoors.”

“Then he’s your servant.” She concluded.

“No, he just enjoys . . . oh, what would you call it? Pleasing me? He’s an odd fellow to tell the truth.” I replied with a tilt of my head and a gentle shrug, uncertain that I was making sense.

You’re baiting her Widgie and you know it . . . .

She took one last glance back at the White Rabbit who by now was slumped in his chair, snoring softly under the influence of too much tea, too many cakes, and the warmth of the sun on his fur. His nose twitching randomly and hind leg kicking occasionally, no doubt fleeing some dreamed of predator. “He’s the vision of contentment” she said smiling at him. Meeting her smile, I reminded her that if we didn’t hurry, she’d be twitching for an entirely different and wholly un-lady- like reason. Then, with a nod we resumed our course towards the cottage. 

Upon arriving, we entered. Being a guest in my home for the first time she politely waited just inside the door for instructions from me. I pointed her to a chair nearby asking for a moment to get what she’d need for the night. She nodded and sat, crossed her legs deliberately, and began kicking the free one unconsciously. No tea party posture for her now. The urge was growing stronger by the minute, but my practiced mind told me she was in no danger of embarrassing herself quite yet. Soon she would be in real distress, but not before I’d taken full and well planned advantage of her need. Wiggle little girl, you’ve only begun to suffer.

I secretly began looking for some reasonable excuse, anything which would enable me to perpetuate such a fortuitous condition. Pursuing the only course available to me at the time, I excused myself and ducked into the linen closet to find the proper dressings for her bed. Taking my leisure finding what I wanted, I intentionally dawdled, humming and hawing audibly to myself giving her the impression that the decision was far more complicated than it really was. I took as much time as I could justify, shuffling through the paltry selection there, knowing that in the mean time her already uncomfortably full bladder was becoming harder to ignore. Finally, thinking I could delay no longer, I popped out of the closet, sheets, pillows, and blankets in hand.

“Sorry to take so long, I just wanted to make sure I had everything you’d need for tonight” I lied. With a hand gesture from me, she rose and followed me down the hall. When we arrived at the bedroom adjacent to my own, I said, “This room should do nicely. It has a sunset view and is right next door to mine should you need anything.”

“Thank you” she said nervously, “I’m sure it will be fine” waiting no doubt to be shown a chamber pot.

By now I was so engrossed in her predicament that I began fantasizing until she brought me back to reality with an “ahem.”

“Oh, pardon my rudeness, let me set things in order for you, then I’ll leave you to your privacy.”

Slowly, I made the bed, glancing at her now noticeable dance by the door. I doubt I’ve ever made a bed more slowly. Being a bachelor, I’d made hundreds of them, but this afternoon, I just couldn’t force myself to move any quicker. She squirmed. I procrastinated, looking for some way to engage her curiosity or sense of play in order to prolong her discomfort.

Finally, with the pillows fluffed for the umpteenth time, I said, “Well, there you go, a nice bed with clean sheets and a pleasant view.” Before she could respond, I moved to the window saying, “Just let me open these for you and I’ll leave you be.” Pulling back the heavy drapes, glimmers of setting sunlight filtered into the room, revealing the dancing dust, and a now very animated girl. “There now, all set. Is there anything else you require” I asked as innocently as I could muster?

With eye brows lifted, head cocked, and looking at me out of the corner of her eye, she asked, “Well Sir, could I have a chamber pot now please?”

“Oh, a chamber pot, how clumsy of me, I beg your pardon” faining sincerity as she blatantly clinched her legs tighter, held her mound, and did the grind of the urgent. “Give me another second.” With that, I left her to wait in abject misery, holding way too much tea for a girl her size. Naturally, I took more time than I would have had I been the one in need. After locating what I needed, and satisfied that I could keep her waiting no longer, I returned with it.

Upon re-entering her room, she was standing at the foot of the bed, her ruffled and slightly soiled panties laid out on a chair so the crotch could dry, legs tightly crossed, knees bending rhythmically, with not one, but both hands pressed tight into her crotch over that alluring blue dress. “There you go” I said, setting the pot before her waiting body. To my amazement she lifted her skirt, straddled the pot, and began to squat, completely oblivious to my presence. Oh, she’s very desperate, Widgie, very! Just one more trick, think, do you have one last riddle to capture her curiosity? As she did, it brought her quivering pudenda into view, afternoon light from the window revealed a tuft of wispy pubic foliage. Resigning all hopes of prolonging her agony, I blurted out softly, “very nice!” However, as fate would have it, this innocent comment was enough to turn the trick.

“What” she asked? Freezing in mid act, she continued holding her skirt, and turned to face me so that the fading light of day illuminated her tender mound perfectly.

“Those wisps of hair are delightful” I exclaimed unable to resist starring at her tender exposed loins. The clock in the foyer could be heard ticking. I sniffed the air.

Distracted, she rebutted, “No, it’s disgusting! Every time I come down the rabbit hole it returns. Back home I have it removed for months at a time electronically. Electronically? I love the smooth clean feeling it provides. Besides, there are benefits to a clean shaven . . . um . . . uh, I can’t explain and really shouldn’t be discussing it with you.” Growing self-conscious, she dropped her skirt and added, “Now if you don’t mind . . .”

Seeing my opportunity to torment bothered flesh was disappearing before my eyes, I tried one last device. “Would you be so kind as to do something for me?” It was a gamble, but it was all I had left. Incredulously, she looked at me through eyes glazed with need, yet with a spark of curiosity, eager to learn what possible request could be so important as to interrupt such a critical moment. Nevertheless, she paused. I think we have her Widgie. She’s curious enough. Maybe she’ll play. And you know, if she’ll play out of mere curiosity, maybe she’s . . . Pursing my lips, I stroked my chin buying a few more seconds. In the mean time she’d straightened herself, once again holding her skirt to her navel, straddling the pot. Her labia protruding below her crotch caught my eye. How beautiful it would be to see more of that. In my last ditch effort, I asked, “Since you dislike it so much, would you allow me to remove that patch of unsightly hair for you now?”

“Are you a barber too” she asked, genuine curiosity audible in her voice?

“Well, we hatters have to shave too. I think between your expertise in how you want it to feel and my shaving hand, we could clean you up nicely in a matter of minutes. I would be honored if you’d allow me the privilege. It would be a rare treat for me to pamper you in this way” I said hoping.

Smiling she said, “Why not, as soon as I’m done with this.”

“Ahem, well, now, there is the reason I’m interrupting you now. There’s a condition I’d like to append to my offer” I said.

“And that would be” she asked?

There’s that twinkle in her eye . . . Oh, Widgie, the game is on!

Quickly I explained to her how we would make it a game; in exchange for a shave, she would agree not to empty her bladder until I’d finished. “Besides, it might be fun to see if you can hold it that long” I added in playful conclusion.

“Ok” she said, dropping her skirt and looking at me with a nod of consent.

There’s the first sign: willingness.

As her skirt settled, I noticed some dark lines in the tops of her white leggings. No doubt there were unseen, clear lines above them, extending from her quivering groove, indicating that she was already losing the battle to contain her excess of tea.

I lead her to my kitchen where I kept my toiletry items. Handing her a pan, I asked her to go to the pump outside the back door and fill it with water. “God” is all she said. Nevertheless, knowing that the sooner she returned, the sooner she would finish the game, Allison trudged off as quickly as her shaky legs would allow. Soon she returned. I could tell that the slow, dripping pump had done its job masterfully because she displayed even larger stains in her hosiery now.

“Before you get into position, set the water to warm while I get everything else ready”

Grimacing at every thought of water now, she placed the pan on a burner and turned up the heat under it. That done, she hiked the back of her skirt, lay back onto the table with her hips at the very edge, allowing her legs to dangle off the end,  and crossed them for support against the growing flood of discomfort. In this position, she waited with her eyes shut, back arched, chest heaving in labored efforts at control, and hands clinched, waiting as patiently as she could.

When the water was the desired temperature, I poured a little into my soap cup to begin softening it. Next, I immersed a cloth in what remained in the pan. After soaking it, I removed it, wrung it lightly, and took it to the business end of the table where I slowly raised the front of her dress to apply it. Meeting only mild resistance, I gently opened her legs wide enough to position the steaming cloth on her fur tangled crotch. She whimpered softly as I arranged things and began whipping up frothy lather in my cup. When all was finally ready, I opened her legs wide, placed her feet on the backs of chairs stationed on either side of the table, and removed the towel, revealing a beautifully moist and pungent flesh-folded tear.

With steam lifting lightly from her girl flesh, I quickly applied the warm shaving lather to her patch. A louder moan, whether of pleasure or agony, I could not tell, escaped her throat as the warmth soaked into her saddle area. While letting it ooze into the nooks of her crease, I stropped my razor, whetting it for its delicate task. With each stroke, her breathing increased. Finally she begged, “Please hurry, I really don’t think I can wait much longer!”

“Be patient, my dear. I’m about to begin.” Laying a firm hand on her lower abdomen, I began applying my straight razor to her pubes after swishing it in the water. The sound of moving water elicited another deep groan; this time there could be no mistaking it, she was in serious anguish. “Hold still and I’ll be done in a jiffy.” With that, I bore down to my work. Little did I know or maybe I did that in doing so I was pressing harder on her already distended bladder.

“Please don’t press so hard, Sir. If you do I can’t hold it the way you want” she said in one breath.

Without a pause, I continued. Each stroke cleared away more hair, leaving her bare between her dribble dampened thighs. Wiping the razor on the towel, I said, “There now, all done except for the hard part. Please grab your legs behind your knees and spread wide for me. I need to get between them really well.”

“Yes Sir” she said, breath hissing between clinched teeth as she fought to hold back the looming flood.

As I shaved carefully between her thigh and labia, she began trembling so hard that her tremors threatened to stop my work. “Now try to hold still” I encouraged, “I know this is hard, but I’m almost done, and you wouldn’t want me to slip at such a . . . ahem . . . ‘strategic spot’ would you?”

“No Sir, I want to satisfy you if I’m able, but I do so need to pee.”

There it is, Widgie! There it is! She wants to please.

A few more strokes and she was clean. I wiped the remaining soap from her now clean mound, placed her legs back onto the waiting chairs, and stood back to admire my handiwork. Sweat had beaded up on her young forehead, she was visibly trembling now, and there were droplets of urine seeping out uncontrollably in unison with her breathing. “A couple more things and we’re done.”

“More!?” the veins bulging in her neck as she craned to stare at me?

Ignoring her question I disappeared into the pantry and secured a cucumber of nice size. Hiding it behind my back, I returned to the kitchen. With strain on her face, perspiration soaking thru the parts of her dress still covering her body, breath coming in ragged sobs now, and her hands gripping the sides of the table like a woman in labor, she steeled herself for some unknown torture.

Without delay, I lowered myself to her now glistening gash. I wondered if the process of being unable to void herself had also aroused her. It had with many of the town girls who had endured this ploy before. To find out I dived in and began sucking her clit for all it was worth. No playing around now, just full-on mouth covering her smooth slit, drawing her turgid bean into my mouth, hood and all. She gasped in surprise then squealed, “Oh my God!” loudly enough to startle even me.

Breaking away temporarily I instructed her, “Please keep it down, you don’t want us interrupted by that nosey White Rabbit do you?!”

“Sorry Sir, that just feels soooooo good” Her voice quivering but more controlled by the sudden change of sensations. “But please hurry” she added peeping over her raised skirt.

“Yes, my dear, but you are so succulent I can hardly contain myself. Please try to hold on, I promise I won’t make you wait much longer.” With that, I cruelly plunged my mouth back onto her engorged clitoris, repeatedly bringing her to the verge of climax before relenting each time. She writhed and cooed, bucked and begged, thrashing like a common whore in heat. Her pussy tasted of briny, piddled urine. I accepted it as the nectar of the Gods.

When her chant changed to, “Please don’t stop” between ragged breaths, I knew she was ready to both go and cum. So I backed off the cunnilingus to prevent the latter. It was then that I retrieved the cucumber and asked her if she was ready for the final challenge.

“If it pleases you, Sir . . . but if it takes too long . . .  I will never last” she said in phrasing punctuated by heavy breathing. She was a glorious sight now, fully soaked from a variety of bodily fluids. Her skin glistened with a light coating of sweat, and the table bore a large puddle of girl cream mingled with urine. The only thing she had not done yet was shed tears. With the lurid ideas I now entertained for her, I was certain they would not be long in coming. Satisfied that she was as primed as she could be, I slid the fat cucumber into her lubed fuck hole to wrest every possible drop of agony from her hyper charged, but unsatisfied state.

With the added internal pressure, she gripped the table harder, bent her elbows and growled softly. Grunting with each exhale, her sweat soaked face glared at me in feral savagery, unable to utter a single word. But of course, I wasn’t ready to relieve her quite yet.

“Just a little longer my beautiful Allison. I know it’s hard . . . It’s supposed to be” the last phrase delivered with savage cruelty and venom.

No response this time, just pleading eyes, irregular spasms in her belly, and a constant, uncontrollable dribbling between her legs, expelling little jets of liquid in rhythm with her heaving, sobbing exhalations. As she fought desperately to hold back, to please me; I told her how lovely she was, wiping the hair from her knitted brow. The whole time I fucked her with the huge intruder, reminding her how much she pleased me by playing my little game, suffering for me, hurting this way. She bucked and struggled against the multiple sensations assaulting her wracked little body. I told her how I could use an assistant like her in my shop and how useful she could be to me if she wanted to stay. However, the one thing which elicited the greatest positive response from her, and it was heroic given the conditions under which she offered it, was when I told her that I wanted her as my playmate. She nodded assent, then shed her first tears. With that, I laid my free hand on her lower belly and firmly pressed.

Without a second’s pause, Allison blew hard and grunted as her belly convulsed, setting free a powerful stream of warm, salty piss which sailed a good 12 feet inside the next room. She followed that with the most guttural, savage sound I’d ever heard issue from a young lady and I’d heard plenty you must know as she raised her legs into the air as if to facilitate easier evacuation while spewing the contents of her bladder everywhere. At least a full minute passed before the intensity began to wane. As she became aware that she was almost done a smile of relief inched its way across her sweat stained face. In that euphoria of release, the flow slowed to a dribble, and finally stopped altogether. Her breathing was still labored, her abdomen gently quivered, and her legs shook. Fearing that she had had an orgasm on the fat intruder which was still filling her, as her body spasmed involuntarily in the wake of such an eruption, it quickly became apparent, due to what followed, that she had not.

With the first conscious notion that she had returned to the present, she shot her right hand to her rip and furiously began rubbing her pee soaked pea. Instinctively releasing the cucumber, now slick with white chic cream, I let it slide out of its own accord and drop. Before it reached the floor, I had arrested her hand and said, “Oh, no, there’ll be none of that in my house!”

“Oh God, Sir, please let me cum” she begged.

“No-no, if you’re going to please me, there’ll be no orgasm tonight. Our game was for a shave and a pee, not a cum.”

Clinching her fists in frustration and growling playfully, she rested until she’d regained some composure. After a few minutes, still lying on my table, her hands placidly on her bare stomach, legs limply hanging off the end of the table, she looked at me with glowing eyes and quietly asked, “Did this please you, Sir?”

“You pleased me, Allison” I corrected.

While she lay there contented, darkness fully descended upon us. After lighting some candles, I cleaned up the mess she’d made. Finally, helping her to her feet, I removed her soiled dress, promising to wash it for her while she slept. I reheated what was left of the water in the pan, retrieved the cloth, and gave her abused naked body a well deserved bath. When done, I wrapped her in a plush towel, kissed her on the forehead and showed her to her room. There I bound her hands to a rope I had tied high up around her waist to prevent her reaching her aroused pussy and ruining what I’d worked so hard that day to create. With that, I tucked her into bed.

I’d like to tell you that she slept soundly after such an eventful day, but I cannot. Deep into the night, I was awakened by her pleading whimpers and the gentle thumps of her headboard bumping against our common wall as she tossed and turned in discomfort, discomfort of another kind.