She itched around, seeing if there was a G spot to touch. Her finger explored, stirring inside her. She knew her finger was reaching those places Caterpillar’s tongue found, those places she could never reach before. That finger filled her, stretched her, pressed and pushed inside. Deeper still. Her pussy tightened around her sopping wet finger. Alice moved it inside and out, like a cock would, thrusting through her slippery entrance. Faster now. A machine pumping her hard with all it could, with all her strength, and all her energy. Alice focused on what it felt like to have a hard, driving force pounding her deep inside. And it felt good. Felt very good.
…That was all it felt like.
It didn’t get her any closer to orgasm. Alice sighed and removed her finger.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with length and everything to do with…girth? Was that the word? The thickness of the cock. Her fingers were only as thick as regular fingers. Even a small cock was thicker than her fingers. If that was true, then all she needed was to have sex with a man. Any man. And maybe, that would make her come.
Alice took out the piece of mushroom that would make her smaller and ate just enough to shrink herself back to where everything about her body was proportionally correct. No more long neck, no more long legs, no more long fingers. Unfortunately, that brought her back down to rabbit size. She wandered back into the woods to see if anyone else could be of more help than the villagers or Caterpillar.
Chapter 12
A clearing in the forest opened up to a beautiful garden of ripe carrots and tomatoes, potatoes and celery, the care and attention so reminiscent of Jack’s love. And there were peppers. Chili peppers, bell peppers, pepper corns, in red, yellow, orange, and black. Beside the garden perched an adorable cottage with crimson colors and cottontail trim.
Two men sat on the steps to the cottage. One had a frog-like face. The other had a mouth that looked like a fish. They had on curly white wigs, like courtroom judges, and their tailored suits made them look as though they were only interested in getting down to serious business. So why were they sitting on the steps?
Clanging and crashing noises called out from the interior of the cottage. Sounded like pots and pans being tossed about. The men sat there unperturbed, not speaking.
“Hi,” Alice said to the two men. “What are you sitting on the steps for?”
“We have an invitation to deliver,” the frog-looking man said.
“An invitation to what?”
“To the queen’s croquet game.”
Oh! To play croquet with a queen, Alice thought. How wonderful that would be!
Jealousy burdened her heart. Alice wanted an invitation, too.
“Who’s the invitation for?” Alice asked.
“For the duke. So we’re waiting,” Frog-face said.
“Waiting for what?”
“For the duke to finish.”
Alice heard the interior clamoring noise violently shatter the serenity of the garden. She overheard a man inside shouting, “You good for nothing woman! Stirring the soup the wrong way! Clockwise! Clockwise!”
“What’s going on in there?” Alice asked.
“The duke is hurting the cook.”
“What?!”
“The duke is hurting the-”
“I heard what you said!” Alice felt her body grow cold. “Why don’t you stop him?”
“Because of the percentages. You see, we have 100 % responsibility to stop the duke so the two of us have 50 % responsibility.”
“And since you’re now here,” Frog-face continued, “that’s three of us. So each of us have about 33 % responsibility to stop him, meaning we each have about 66 % responsibility to not stop him.”
Alice could hear the duke shouting, “Good for nothing woman! Even sex with you is like stuffing a piece of dead meat!”
Alice clenched her fists. She pounded on the door, “Open up! Open up! Open up!”
She grabbed the handle. It didn’t budge. She hammered on the door yelling for the duke to open it. The door flung open and in the doorway stood a large man. Alice saw the fury in his face. The aroma of chili pepper stabbed her eyes.
He put his puffy red face right up to Alice’s and growled, “What the hell do you want?”
Alice gulped.
The two men behind Alice announced, “My Lord, you are invited to attend the queen’s croquet game.”
Suddenly all the redness in the duke’s face seemed to vanish. “The… the queen’s croquet game! I…I better not be late!”
He put on a coat and turned to Alice. His gaze dripped down her body.
Alice shuddered.
“I’ll deal with you and that fragile, little body of yours later. In the meantime, breastfeed my baby boys.”
And the duke left accompanied by the odd-looking officers.
Chapter 13
Alice tiptoed inside the cottage and walked down the hallway.
“Hello?”
No one replied.
“Ms. Cook?”
The hall led to a kitchen where a slender, big-busted woman crouched over broken plates and cups. She wore only an apron, leaving her backside completely exposed. “Why can’t I do anything right?”
Alice’s eyes stung from the powerful odor of chili peppers. She squinted hoping that would help. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I did.” The cook stood up straight and placed the broken pieces into a trash bin. “I stirred the wrong way.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no wrong way to stir.”
“And I’m no good in bed.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that!” The words came out of Alice louder than she had anticipated. Perhaps because she didn’t believe she was being truthful.
“Did you hear him?” The cook leaned on the kitchen counter staring at the rest of the broken dishes on the floor. “I’m no better than a piece of meat.”
Alice was about to say it wasn’t true, but she realized she had no way of knowing what the cook was like in bed.
“Look at me.” Alice took the cook’s hands. “Look at me!”
The cook did.
“There is nothing wrong with you. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman and any sensible man should feel privileged to know you and love you. The duke…” Alice paused. “Any man who dislikes you because of how you are in bed doesn’t deserve you.”
The cook took a deep breath and let it out. Alice felt like her words to the cook were truthful. But only about the cook. If anyone told Alice those same words she’d know they were lying. Just saying things to soothe her.
Why was that? Why did she feel it was so important to know how to please a man and at the same time the cook’s sexual inexperience didn’t matter? What was the truth? Was there any difference between the cook and herself that made sexual experience important?
Alice asked, “Why don’t you leave the duke?”
“And leave his baby boys? I could never leave the children. Now let’s have you breastfeed his baby boys before he comes home.”
The cook left the kitchen, perhaps to a bedroom. Alice didn’t understand what was expected of her.
“I can’t breastfeed,” Alice called out to the cook.
The cook came back in to the kitchen holding a giggling baby in each arm. Both babies were bundled in blankets so Alice couldn’t see them directly. She just saw the bundles and heard the giggles.
The cook said, “Of course you can. Come here.”
Alice approached.
The cook nodded to her chest and said, “Take them out.”
Alice scooped out her breasts over her dress’s neckline. To her surprise, dribbles of milk came from the nipples. That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?
“Take one of the babies,” the cook instructed.
Alice looked at them and didn’t see babies. They looked more like…starfish!
“Those aren’t babies!” Alice said. “What’s this all about?”
Both starfish lay upside down in their blankets. At the centers where their legs met each had two closed eyes and a giggling mouth, babbling incoherent words.