He was behind her now but not touching her. “Have you seen my driver?”
“What driver?” His voice, behind her. “What do you want your safe word to be, Alice?”
“He had white gloves on. And a hat. He was very tall,” she explained. His hand moved over her shoulder, his touch light, but his palm huge. “My safe word?”
“The white rabbit?” the king inquired. She gasped when he cupped her breast, kneading the firm flesh in his fingers. “Yes, dear, your safe word. You do know what one is, don’t you?”
“White rabbit?” Alice asked, confused, trying to ignore the tingling sensation from her nipple to her crotch as he manipulated it between thumb and finger.
“Well, it’s strange, but it will do,” the king said with a laugh. “White rabbit it is.”
“Wait—” Alice said again, but it was too late, far too late. Behind her, the king had disrobed. She felt the heat from his body and the press of his cock, thick and huge, against her hip. “What are you doing?”
“From now on, the Red Queen asks the questions.” The king reached down between her legs and cupped her mound from behind. Alice had shaved smooth for Wade and her vulva was soft as velvet in his hand. “And I do all the dirty work.”
“I like the dirty work,” he confessed, his fingers parting her lips, dipping in, testing the waters. Then he lifted her like that, in one hand, tilting her hips with the flick of his wrist, and she found herself suspended spread-eagle by silver thread, attached from her restraints to the ceiling. She had time to wonder how things had turned upside down- the string had gone from manacle to floor just moments before-but the strain on her arms and legs, carrying the fullness of her weight, grew painful almost immediately.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can.” He whispered the words into her ear, which was at mouth-level as he stood beside her. “But she is watching.”
“It hurts,” Alice gasped, trying to turn away from or into the pain in her limbs.
“It’s supposed to!” The Red Queen sang from somewhere below them. How could she possible see? Alice wondered. They were far off the ground and she was down there. She turned her head from side to side and then she saw it, a glimmer of light below-another transmission, this one showing the scene above displayed on the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw herself suspended, nude, helpless.
The king made some motion and Alice sighed in relief as the strings holding her up drew closer together on the ceiling. She couldn’t see where they were attached, no pulleys or levers. They seemed to disappear in to the red and white material above with no fastening at all. The affect was both good and bad. Her limbs were still holding her own weight, but they were drawn together now, arms parallel with her legs and perpendicular to the floor. It left her body jackknifed and her unable to see, except peripherally, what was going on around her.
“Such sweet skin.” The king had something to pet her with. She couldn’t tell at first what it was, the touch was so light over the backs of her thighs, behind her knees.
“Like peaches and cream.”
But when the first blow fell near her hip, she recognized the implement immediately. A riding crop. It was one of Wade’s favorite toys.
Alice howled when the crop bit her behind a second and third time, leaving a burning sting. Below her, the queen mimicked her response, howling back, the sound making an echo. It was painfully humiliating, knowing she was not only being punished, but that someone was watching-and enjoying it.
But this is a test, she reminded herself, thinking of Wade. He’d asked her to say yes to this, yes to him. This was part of it, and so she would submit. She would have done anything for him. Maddie would call her crazy, or maybe she would come up for a name for the hormone in her brain responsible for the way she felt, but Alice knew the truth. She wanted Wade, and she wanted what he wanted for her.
“Oh Alice, that’s lovely.” The riding crop came down again, but this time she didn’t cry out. Her body relaxed and the moment she let go, she realized how tense she had been, how much she had been fighting against her restraints.
The king knew just what he was doing. She didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but he was almost better than Wade in his technique. He knew just when to deliver a sting, followed by the soft pet of the leather, and then two more, quick, on one side, then three on the other. He kept her guessing, anticipating, soothing her at turns and then going back at her with great force.
He was warming her up. And it was working. She could feel herself giving into it, floating away on the sensation. The king seemed to sense the shift in her because he slid the riding crop’s leather end between her pussy lips, making her gasp and twist and moan. There was nothing she could do to stop him. Her legs were pressed together, but her pussy was completely exposed to him between her thighs, plump and ripe as a peach.
The flat edge of the leather crop snapped against the top of her cleft and Alice whimpered, twisting, not knowing if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted more. The sensation was something between pain and pleasure, a feeling she knew all too well.
Then the other end of the riding crop, the hard handle, found its way between her swollen lips, the tip trailing up and down, teasing her clit and then her hole, back and forth.
“She likes that.” The king’s voice sounded distant to her, but Alice knew she was far away, transported somewhere else, giving into her own need. Her body was on fire with it. She clutched her ankles as the riding crop slipped inside of her, slow and easy, her breath hot and panting against the flesh of her knees. Moaning, she tried to rock to meet the object fucking her but had no leverage, no range of motion. She was powerless.
“Please,” she whispered, knowing better, but she wanted it more than she could say. The crop was removed almost immediately and the business end came down against her bottom, hard, the sound echoing in the room.
SMACK
Alice whimpered and then wailed when another blow fell and then another, teaching her the lesson swiftly, in staccato beats. SMACK SMACK SMACK. They rained down like stinging leather kisses, leaving her bottom in a hot, fiery mess.
She heard the Red Queen laughing somewhere. “Can you do addition, Alice?” she called, still giggling. “What's one and one and one and one and one and…”
“I don’t know, I lost count!” Alice moaned, sinking her teeth into her own flesh, biting her knees to send sensation somewhere else besides her sore behind. And as suddenly as the storm began, it was over. The crop was gone, but so was the Red King.
She was left alone, hanging, aching, waiting. Alice rested, panting, wanting to cry but holding back her tears. Is this what Wade had wanted? Was he watching her from somewhere? No other man had ever touched her this way. She had never given herself to anyone like this before. Was this her test?
Alice gasped when the threads attached to her restraints began to move. They spread her legs apart and when Alice peered between them she saw the Red King standing there, larger than life, hands on hips, completely nude. His cock was enormous and already covered with a strange lime-green colored condom. At least she hoped it was a condom.
Part of her wanted to beg, plead, tell him no, the same part of her that wanted to save herself for Wade and only him, but she remembered him telling her to say “yes,” on the video. And if she was honest with herself, just seeing the length and breadth and thrust of the king as he stroked himself while he looked at her, Alice wanted to be fucked. She had wanted to be tied and punished. She wanted nothing more than to surrender to this giant man’s will, his insistent need for her.
So when he lifted her behind with both hands, bringing her pussy to his mouth, she quivered under his attention and gave into whatever he wanted to do. His tongue made delicious circles over her aching clit, drawing it out like a bee taking honey. She almost sobbed with relief, feeling her orgasm building in the tremble of her thighs and belly. When his big fingers slid into her, she gave him her juices in a torrential flood, coming so hard she bucked against her restraints, feeling her connective tissue straining as she arched and spread for him.