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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)

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 56