Allison's Adventures in Wonderland: Chapter II

The After-Tea-Party

Very little light leaked through the heavily draped windows of the cheap, business grade motel room. The only illumination came from a radio-LED alarm clock flashing 4:37 on the night stand between two queen-sized beds. The smell of coitus lingered in the air like a stale cigar. Light snoring came from a man, about 50, sprawled without covers on the right side, boxers in disarray, actually on backwards in feined modesty, but way too late for it. His paramour, 30ish, was enveloped completely by the covers, holding them tightly drawn to her chin against the air conditioner’s fury, her auburn hair a tangled mess with a matted spot on the exposed side. She was not nearly so modest as her present position implied; her clothes littered the room.  Her skirt and blouse, granted, were draped across the back of the cigarette- pocked upholstered chair near the window, but her bra lay at the foot of the bed, her lacey panties, while not visible from an entry vantage point, were half in and half out of the garbage can which was tucked in that small space between the dresser and the cabinet housing the TV, and she still wore her black pumps.

The neighbor bed had also been occupied. Now empty, it was totally wrecked. Its spread and sheets lay in a pile on the floor. A tale-tell, irregularly shaped wet spot of about 12” darkened the fitted sheet which, having borne the full brunt of savagery, was hanging on by only three corners. Needless to say, there was no doubt about the business conducted there last night.

On the first ring of the phone, the man stirred, and reaching over his sleeping companion, answered it hoarsely saying only “Thank you” before hanging up. Then, without a word shook his cocooned lover awake by her sheet covered shoulder.   

* * * * * * * * * *

In spite of the interruptions to my sleep, I awoke refreshed and eager for a new day. Many times during the night I could hear her whimpering and moaning gently to herself. No doubt the ordeal I’d put her through had awakened a desire deep within her for which I would not now grant relief. There was even once in the night when I clearly heard her call out, “Please Sir, let me cum.” When I went to check on her, she was still hand-tied and sleeping soundly in her bed.  

Waking before the sun rose as was my custom, and taking care of my morning routine, I hit upon an idea. I’d promised to wash her dress, and while I could easily enough do that, she’d need something to wear while it dried. So, realizing that she’d likely sleep in very late, I set out for town, her dress in a bag for sizing. Arriving in town, I found the tailor up in his shop. After describing to him my needs he directed me to two dresses he had readymade which he thought would fit her nicely with minimal alteration. Comparing the dress I brought with me, he agreed to make the needed alterations while I shopped in town for my other needs. Having purchased the two dresses with instructions to take the hem up a few additional inches, I set off in search of a launderer, knee socks, and shoes. By the time the tailor had the dresses ready, I had secured three pair of hose, a nice pair of black shoes, some slippers, and a house robe. I’d also found some toiletry items I knew a young lady would need and enjoy: a nice new wooden hair brush and some hair clips. Additionally, I bought a nice collar for her; my design being to keep her frilly, revealing, and submissive for my hedonistic pleasure. Oh the plans I have for her, Widgie, oh the plans!   

Making my way back home, I laid the dresses, stockings, and shoes out in my parlor like a Christmas morning surprise, but out of immediate view. My intent was to present them to her as a token of my gratitude for her play the evening before and as a pledge of support and encouragement for her continuing as my playmate. This done, I laid the other things on my table and tip-toed into her room where I silently laid the robe and slippers on the chair by the window. Lying there was her soiled underwear from the previous day’s fun. Before pocketing them, I deeply inhaled the full bouquet from its crotch, enraptured by her rich fragrance.

Once back in the kitchen, I slid the collar into my pocket and decided to go to my shop in search of a small lock while waiting for her to rise. This excursion not taking but a few minutes to accomplish, I returned and began opening up the house for the day. While cleaning up after my hastily eaten breakfast, the brighter illumination of a bright morning sun flooding in from outside showed well the carpets upon which she’d urinated the night before. I’d managed to sop up the obvious puddles, but due to working only by candle light I’d missed much which now was evident by a light, but unmistakable stain. I smiled thinking back to the fun we’d had. I’ll leave those there Widgie; they may prove useful sometime. Besides, replacing a soiled rug was the least of my worries. So, I decided to wait for her to rise before setting out for my day’s work.

Dirty dishes done, I set a place for her breakfast and sat to read my book. In glancing up between chapters I looked at the table, the same table where hours before she’d soaked one end with her cream mingled with warm, salty urine. I moved her setting to that spot. About then I heard her stirring in her room. Excellent Widgie, here she comes. Expecting her to arrive clad in her new robe and slippers, I was pleasantly shocked to see her appear in my kitchen totally naked, wrists still bound to her waist. Widgie, this is a very good sign! A very good sign indeed!

Before I could posit the usual, “did you sleep will?” She sheepishly asked,

“Sir, may I use my chamber pot this morning please?”

“Why of course you may, why would you ask?” I questioned, resisting the temptation to bite my knuckles openly.

“Because if I’m to be your playmate I assumed I’d need your permission for everything. Wasn’t that the whole point of our game last night?” she asked.

Widgie, we’re there! The work is done. Bring me the net . . . Without saying a word, I simply motioned for her to come to me as I turned my chair to face her. When standing passively in front of me, I gently slid a finger between her warm folds. Her slit was still a bit puffy from the night before and her tummy no doubt needed to be emptied again. Once untied, I pointed her in the direction of her room, and with a gentle swat on her naked bottom, bade her with a smirk “hurry now, you don’t want to soil the carpets again.”

With a playful squeal and winking glance over her shoulder, she trotted off to her room. In a few minutes she came back out, still naked, hair tussled from our play and sleeping. Presenting herself before me again, eyes looking at my knees she asked, “I see you left me a new robe and slippers, would you like me to wear them for you Sir?”

 “No, not yet” I replied. “I have other gifts for you too, but first let me clean you up better.”

“Gifts?” she asked excitedly. “I love gifts, what are they?”

“I’ll show you soon” I said rising and going to a cabinet where I retrieved a glass bottle of baby oil. After finding a fresh towel, I returned and sat before her again.

 “Your hair is a mess. Let me massage some oil into your skin then I’ll brush it out for you. Afterwards, I’ll show you your gifts and help you get dressed.”

Grinning mildly, she stared at my knees in humble submission, hands clasped in front. I reached up and took her chin, raised it and looked into her green eyes. “Allison” I said, “I want you as my play thing. It’s obvious that you want it too. Just so we’ll understand each other, let me establish some basic rules. There will be others.” She nodded meekly and I continued. “I don’t want you going around hanging your head. You may look me in the eyes without hesitation. You are too vibrant to wear a gloomy submission. While I’ll treat you as property, I want you to be yourself.  I’ll use you hard, make no mistake, but I want you, not some artificial you. You’ll earn your keep by helping me in my shop. Beyond that, I’ll expect you to please me in whatever way I desire. Last night was simply amazing; I’ll expect more of the same.”

Standing as still as she could during my short lecture, realizing I was finished, she looked at me with a broad smile, and then asked, “What now, Sir?”

Without a word, I took the bottle, uncorked it, and began pouring small amounts of the oil onto her shoulders, chest and back. Taking my time, I began massaging it into her skin beginning around her neck, and making my way down her trim, tight body. I lingered longer than needed at her pert, pointy nipples, still very much alive from the teasing the night before. Arousal showed on her face as I flicked and twisted them. When I gently tugged on them, she moaned softly. Her back received the same treatment. Slowly and methodically I worked my way to her alluring bottom, skipping her crotch intentionally, before moving to her thighs. Working delicately both inside and out, I made my way to her bare feet. By now she was breathing harder, but not noticeably animated. Of course, we both knew where the oil would go next.

Using my oily hands, I gently nudged her inner thighs open sufficiently to expose her damp and cleanly shaven mound. The morning dew glistened there already. There were little eddies of her honey which had already slid onto her oily thighs. Her fragrance wafted into the room, my cock stiffened. Gently I massaged oil into the folds of flesh there, purposefully not touching her babe bump. I applied a generous portion of oil to her plump, engorged lips. Audible gasps slid from her lips. Her breathing was noticeably heavier.

Satisfied that she’d been thoroughly oiled, I turned to cap the bottle. In turning back, I had to stay her hand which was wandering down her abdomen towards her crease, looking to satisfy a growing need between her tender legs. “No, no, Allison. Not yet” I scolded in a gentle tone. She playfully stamped her foot, scrunched up her nose, and looked at me in false disapproval.

 “It looks like I need to keep you occupied” I said patting my lap, “so turn around, sit on my lap, and let me brush your hair while the oil settles.” To which she turned and sat on my thighs as though I were the chair, her legs properly together, back straight, hands folded in her lap.

As she sat placidly looking forward, she too noticed the stains on the carpet and remarked in some surprise, “Did I do all that?”

“Yes” I said without any emotion, beginning to brush her shoulder length, dark hair.

“I’m really sorry. I assumed you’d let me use a chamber pot, but given the urgency and arousal of the moment, when you laid your hand on me that way, I just let go. I guess I really should have asked permission too. But . . . it just felt so good. It never crossed my mind that I’d ruin your rug” she said with her hands covering her mouth in embarrassment.

I continued stroking her hair telling her that it wasn’t an issue. To change the subject I asked innocently how she’d rested, about whether the bed was comfortable enough, and if she had any problems during the night. She responded, “I found it very hard to sleep, Sir. The game you put me through made me very horny. With my hands bound I couldn’t touch myself the way I would have back home. So it was more than a little frustrating to be blunt. I hope my moaning and wiggling didn’t keep you up.”

“I slept like a baby and never noticed a thing” I lied.

“Good” she said. Then added, “I was afraid my tossing and turning would disturb you.”

Disturbed me? Widgie, how could her aching flesh disturb me? No, this is going better than I’d ever hoped. Beautiful girl, beautiful!

“Allison” I said, “I can see you are still deeply aroused.”

“Yes Sir, I am. I hate to admit it, but I am. And honestly, sitting here on your lap naked isn’t helping any. Am I wiggling too much?”

“Oh, no, it’s hardly noticeable at all.” I lied again to her. I wonder if she’s left a damp spot on my trousers Widgie.

Satisfied with the job I’d done on her hair, I laid the brush down.  Her skin had taken on a rich, shimmering glow, while the sunlight played alluringly off her curves. Reaching into my coat pocket, I removed the collar and said to her, “Here is the first of several presents I have for you today, Allison. Don’t look, just sit still while I fasten this on you.” With that, I collared her pristine throat and locked it onto place with a small brass lock. At the click, she asked,

“What is that?”

“It’s a collar, Allison, to show that I own you.”

Her hand went to her neck and caressed the leather she found there. It was black leather and was about an inch and a half wide. Except for the lock, from a distance it would look like an unornamented choker. Handling the small lock between her fingers and thumb she asked, “Why the lock, Sir?”

“So you can’t take it off.”

“Thank you, Sir” is all she said.

With that, I attached a leash to her collar and asked her to stand facing me. There she glowed in radiant beauty. The mid-day sun was glinting off her shinny body like a goddess in her glory. “Allison, you’re beautiful” I couldn’t help saying. Widgie, she is stunning! I don’t know how long I can resist having her. She blushed, twisting from the knees, hands clasped in front. Then turning my attention to where she’d sat, I noticed, as I expected, a rather noticeable wet spot on my trousers. “Do you see that?” I asked.

Blushing yet more deeply, all she could get out was a soft “Sorry” as she turned her eyes downward in embarrassment.

“We’ll have to deal with that in a minute. For now, let me show you the rest of your presents” I said as I stood.

With a strange mixture of feelings of unworthiness and excitement, I lead her into the parlor where her new clothes were laid out. She inhaled audibly, holding one hand to her open mouth. Side by side were two nearly identical dresses, one a light yellow, and one a deep green. “They’re beautiful, which should I wear for you today, Sir?” she asked nearly hopping in excitement.

“Today, you may choose.”

Moving quickly to the couch, she snatched up the green one, held it up to her chest, swayed from side to side, and made to go to her room. Feeling the tug of the leash she remembered her place once again, stopped and sat down. Taking up the leggings she rolled them up just over each knee, and then slipped quickly into the dress. The cut and lacey under slip were perfect for highlighting her protruding backside which made the dress stand almost straight out in the back, covering only the most essential parts of her delectable anatomy. Any significant deviation from the vertical would reveal far more than she intended. 

After twirling around like a five-year-old trying on a party dress for the first time, she turned again to have me button it in back for her. Satisfied with the fit, she again sat to put on her new shoes. Properly shod, she stood, turned back to the sofa quickly with knitted brow and an inquisitive look on her face. While she rummaged through the items still on the couch, I asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, Sir, am I overlooking them? I don’t seem to find any panties. This dress is unusually short, even for my tastes. I’d hate to embarrass you or myself at a party wearing one of these without at least something covering my . . . um . . . bum” she explained.

With an air of authority, but not sternly, I replied, “No, my girl, there is not mistake. While my plaything, you’ll wear no undergarments and you may count on plenty of opportunities to expose yourself to me and others. I’d get used to it if I were you.”

Regaining her composure, and standing still once again, hands folded properly, she said softly, “Yes, Sir, if it will please you. Thank you too for the beautiful clothes.”

Smiling at her, I gently tugged on her leash and said, “Since I’m already going to have to change my pants, I might as well get full enjoyment out of messing them up. Come over here.” Finding an available spot on the sofa, I sat. Watching her advance towards me by the leash made my cock harden inside my trousers. Knowing what I had in mind, made it twitch.

Once comfortably seated, I invited her to sit in a chair next to me. She sat primly and properly. Just as I’d suspected, the tailor had met my requirements exactly. When she sat, her bottom was covered from the sides of the skirt, but the length was such that she could not sit on even an inch of material. She sat totally bare on the chair. “Perfect, my girl. The length is perfect!”

“If you like it Sir” she replied.

“Oh, I do” I said, patting my lap. “Please join me again here.” She rose and once again sat properly on my thighs facing away from me. “Since you’ve already left your mark on my pants, I want to fully enjoy you before changing them.” With that I took both of her arms and wrapped them behind her, placing them on my thighs. “Now don’t move your hands, no matter what.”

“Yes, Sir” she said.

I then spread her thighs open obscenely, moving each foot to the sofa beside me. This locked her knees below the level of my thighs, arched her back seductively, and caused her chest to heave as she breathed deeply in anticipation of what was coming. Once open in this way, I opened my thighs slightly to hold her in position. I lifted the front of her skirt with my left hand. Her tummy was firm but trembling in anticipation. How eagerly she responded to my touch. How beautiful she looked, head back, eyes closed, breathe deepening. With my right had I began feeling her smooth pubic mound. I also gently kissed her neck and shoulders, whispering to her how pleasing she was to me. Sliding my hand further south, I began fingering her soft, wet folds. With the stirring of her flesh, her scent rose to fill my parlor. Her fragrance was ambrosial. Finding a brutal rhythm there, I met the dampness I’d found last night, only this time there was nothing but lust lube slipping from her lips. With that first brush of her clitoris she let out a feral “UUUH” gripping my leg fiercely with her hands. Immediately she begged, “Please be kind, Sir.” Nevertheless, heedless to her pleas, I ruthlessly teased her trim, taking her to the brink of orgasm repeatedly and without pause until the clock had advanced through a full cycle of its chimes. Finally, just before I stopped, she hissed through sweaty heaves and catching sobs, “Ha . . . have . . .  mmme . . . mer . . .cy, Siiiir.”

For the first time in over an hour I stopped, allowing her to catch her breath. I reached up with my left hand, grabbed her hair and slowly turned her towards me. I kissed her deeply for the first time. Her tongue fought to play with mine. I felt not only perspiration from her lips but tears falling from her closed eyes. She softly cooed for me, eager to please, eager to devour, and clearly wanting more. My cock was still hard and eager inside my pants. Turning back away from me, she resumed her travail. Then slowly this time, but deliberately I began assaulting her nubbin again, more tactically this time, bringing her ever closer to a thundering climax. Yet each time I’d back off, keeping her teetering on the brink but never allowing her to slide over. After another half an hour of this, she was gyrating, sweating, and blowing hard. Occasionally she’d let out a soft “Please don’t stop” under her breath. Nevertheless, I always did.

When I thought she was about as far gone as she could be, I really laid into her babe button. I rubbed it furiously, reducing her to a slobbering, pleading minx, bouncing on my lap. As she did, her bare, shapely ass would rub my cock still encased in my pants. The more she squirmed, the more excited I got. Just as I thought we’d both cum I had a wicked idea.

I suddenly stopped and she turned with a look of abject terror on her face, “Whhhhaat? Please don’t stop, I’m so close.” She pleaded.

“No Allison, I’m going to give you the mercy you craved earlier. Stand up and go to the table and bring me your new hair brush” I commanded releasing the leash from her collar. Silently climbing from my lap, she scampered after the item.

 Returning she presented it to me and repositioned herself on my lap. After asking if she was ready and receiving a soft “yes” I gently shoved her forward. Catching herself on her hands, she allowed her legs to reposition so that she could lay on my lap, ass upturned, stocking covered legs extended akimbo to both sides of me. She was a vision of undignified, carnal passion. The sight was glorious too. My pants were soaked by her Jill juice and her pussy was a mess of swollen meat and white cream. “Raise your skirt for me Allison” I commanded.

Looking up at me pleadingly, she complied, slowly sliding her dress up until it cleared her waist. Then with resignation of what she knew was coming, she placed her hand back on the floor for support and said, “I’m ready, Sir.”

With that, I took the brush and began laying on hard, cruel strokes to her bare, upturned bottom. I began slowly with single or double strokes; placing them strategically to bite previously untouched flesh. She hissed in pain, and then began to slowly dry-hump me. Picking up the pace, the globes of girl flesh giggled and reddened quickly as I laid pain all over her exposed, tender back side. With the increase in fire, she began cursing, crying, and telling me how much it hurt. I continued. She shifted her position further back onto my lap, finding friction for her nubbin against my wood. Stroke after painful stroke I wounded her upturned ass. She wailed, she begged, but not for me to stop now, but to keep going. Soon she was screaming through her tears, “Harder, Sir, Please harder!”

With each new stroke she began to dry hump my lap more furiously. Given the time I had been aroused, each of her pelvic thrusts threatened to fill my trousers with spume. Nevertheless, I beat her nether cheeks until I feared injuring her. However, as she took on that red rash, I finally could hold my flood no longer and erupted, filling my pants with salty man spunk.

When my cock finally stopped spurting, I stopped beating. The silence was nearly deafening. She sobbed while I caught my breath. Then with fained gruffness I said, “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve filled my pants with cum. I’ll expect you to clean that up.”

“Yes, Sir” she eventually sniffed. I then eased her off my lap and positioned her on her hands and knees in front of me. I next slid the brush handle to the hilt into her hot and bruising back side, penetrating her tight resistant sphincter without warning and without lubricant - although there was plenty at hand. She let out an “ouch!” but didn’t resist. As she adjusted to this unwelcome intruder her breathing came in jagged catches, and her hips thrusted with a will all their own.

I soon reminded her that she was not finished; she still needed to clean me up. She slowly composure herself and re-positioned herself between my legs where she methodically unfastened my pants.  With a skill I doubted she possessed, she sought out and devoured, accompanied by soft, inner moans, every drop of my eruption, sucking and cleaning my cock in the process too.

Shortly she looked up at me, eyes swollen from crying, lips puffy, and her face as wrecked as her bruised bottom and asked, “Would you like anything else now, Sir?”

“No, dear girl, that’s quite enough for now” I said stroking her hair over her ear gently.

Standing to button my trousers, I took her by the hair and lifted her to her feet. The hair brush protruding from her anal cavity kept the skirt lifted sufficiently to reveal the darkening bruises on her rounded posterior. I gently removed her dress and laid it with the other. Then in answer to her questioning expression I offered, “I don’t want to get anything on your new dress Allison.”

With hushed sobs and trembling in deep arousal, she looked at me and whispered, “If it please you, Sir.”

“You do, Allison, very much.” I insisted. After directing her back onto all fours, I placed her directly in front of me where I could watch my handiwork turn dark blue. Resuming my seat, I took up Through the Looking Glass, placed my feet on her back as a human ottoman, and began to read – ignoring her whimpering appeals.