Chapter 4

Alice jumped from the bed, and stood beside it on the floor, both relaxed and nervous.

The relaxation was a direct result of her activities with the March Hare. Fucking that man/rabbit, of whom, needless to say, there was no sign, while distracting, was very nice.

The nervousness was caused by the fact that she still didn't have her knickers. The determination to get them back might not have made sense, but she couldn't just wander around down here without them.

Pulling at the hem of the nightie again, she giggled. It really was a ludicrous piece of clothing, but perhaps she should keep it on for now. At least it covered her breasts. Sort of.

Turning on the floor beside the bed, she could see seven arched doorways leading from the room. She could have sworn that when she followed Bert and his erection in here earlier it was a little room with one entrance. Which way to go?

The doorways were all identical, though the views through them were not. Some led to further hallways. One looked like an entry to a kitchen. The one that caught her attention though was directly across the rumpled bed from her, and led to a field of some sort. She could feel the warmth from the sunshine, and the breeze. There was a delicious smell of summer, and she decided she wanted to go there.

She ran around the bed, heading for the doorway, and stopped suddenly. The exit had changed to a damp dark hallway, uninviting to say the least. She could still smell the forest though, and when she looked up, back across the bed to where she stood before, she could see that doorway had become the one she wanted.

Needless to say, she ran back around the bed, and again stopped abruptly. The exit had once more vanished, replaced by the same chilly hallway. In fact, as she walked around the bed, she noticed that the door into summer also moved. It stayed opposite her no matter what. She tried walking slowly, and then running fast, her bare bum bouncing behind her, but nothing would work.

Suddenly, she thought of a way. Keeping the doorway in sight, she walked toward the bed, climbed up on it on her hands and knees, crawled across the centre of it, realising it still smelled deliciously of her, and Bert, and sex...

She stopped then, remembering the wonderful feeling of it all, and the simple strength. Realising she wasn't quite in the hurry she had thought, Alice climbed back under the covers, pulled them up, and lay there with her eyes closed.

She wasn't sleepy however, not the slightest bit, and so her thoughts turned, as they often did, to sex. Not any specific instance, or anything particular, just a jumble of thoughts and feelings, memories and fantasies.

As her thoughts became a little more organised, her body began to respond, and she hiked the little nightgown up over the top of her breasts, and kicked the covers back off. Privacy was nice, but freedom was much better.

Her bare nipples were suddenly accosted by the gentle breeze flowing through the room, and as she caressed her breasts around them, carefully avoiding the nipples themselves, they became erect, hard little arousal meters.

Touching her nipples finally, she shuddered, and her body jerked on the bed, in time to the groan that escaped her pursed lips.

She had thought she was in for a long, relaxed self-massage, but now she felt some urgency, some need to finish. While one hand stayed and played with alternate nipples, the other slid down her body, over her ribs, down past her ticklish navel. Then it continued over the thatch of blonde hair, into the warmth, the softness, the moisture.

Pulling her knees up now, and spreading her legs for better access, she attacked herself vigorously, rubbing and tweaking, pulling and sliding.

Eventually, she decided she needed both hands to finish this properly, and reluctantly left her nipples to their own devices. One hand delved deep inside herself, sliding in and out almost frictionlessly, while the other seduced her clitoris, little slippery swipes across the top of it, almost too much, but not quite. Squeezing and pressing around the area, with occasional dips down further for more moisture.

Alice lost track of her surroundings then, her mind enveloped by the feelings, desperate now to finish.

She lay there, undulating, on the bed, hands between her legs, edging closer and closer, groaning with the strain, until she pushed herself over the precipice, and her whole body shuddered as she came, clamping down on her own hands, trying desperately to stop moving until she could regain some control. Of course, she couldn't, and her muscles continued to tickle her nerves, and she jerked there on the bed, slowly calming down.

As her body returned to something approaching normality, she remembered why she'd climbed up, and looked across at the door into the forest, which hadn't moved. She crawled across the bed, turned around feet first and slid, never taking her eyes off the doorway, not even to drag the nightie back down over her ass.

Hopping from the bed, she ran toward the doorway, and leapt through it, hands high, feet apart, very unladylike, but very, very post-orgasmic Alice.

She landed on a leaf strewn path, crouched down and looked. She could see some sort of activity in the distance, and started walking down the meandering path toward the noise.

Three steps later, she was there, suddenly. At the edge of a clearing, listening to the chatter. She looked back and couldn't quite work out how she'd covered so much distance in such a short time. Then the conversation caught her attention, and she looked ahead again.

"You say you took them from her?"

"Yes yes I talked her into taking them off."

"Oh, you did not! You must have found them somewhere. Who would hand over their knickers just because you asked?"

In the middle of the clearing stood a big old wooden table, surrounded by about a dozen rustic chairs. To one side of the table stood a small group. What looked disturbingly like a large mouse, a little old man in a huge top hat, and Bertrand.

Bertie was swinging Alice's black knickers above his head, and exclaiming to the old man still.

"I did I talked her into handing them over and then I fucked her too."

"Now you're being ridiculous."

"In the bed in the tunnel room I did really I did."

The mouse was asleep, and the argument was held over its head.

The old man was just ready to make his disbelief known again when he saw Alice.

"Oh, my dear, come over here, please."

Bert looked over, and squawked again. "That's her Hatter that's the one there with no knickers see."

Walking over to the table, Alice took a spare seat, and sat, looking at the two of them, unsure what to say. "Umm... Hello. I'm Alice."

"Hello Alice. I'm the Hatter."

"The Mad Hatter he is."

"Quiet Bertrand. We have company."

"I already had that company."

Alice waved a finger at him then. "Stop it!"

They both looked at her for a moment.

"I like her spunk," said the Mad Hatter, thoughtfully.

"She liked mine, too," Bert responded.

The Hatter ignored him this time. He smiled at Alice, and bobbed his head a little, tipping the huge hat precariously.

"Hello Mr Hatter," Alice responded. "Tell me, does he always tell tales?"

"Oh, he's terrible."

"I don't like him telling those awful lies about me."

"I told him that myself. I asked him why anyone would just hand him their knickers."

"Thank you. I can't understand it myself."

"No. And then, to have claimed to seduced you."

"Oh, no, that part's alright."

"What?"

"Well, it's the lying that worries me. He picked those knickers up off the ground. Stole them, basically."

"Yes, but..."

"As for the rest, well, I can't argue if it's true."

"You fucked a rabbit?"

"Good God no. I looked the other way."

"What?"

"Well, he only looks like a rabbit from certain angles."

"Yes, so?"

"Well, the angles we were at, he was a man."

"A man?"

"So long as I kept one eye shut."

"So he's telling the truth?"

"Well, yes, about the sex."

"But not the knickers?"

"No."

"Seems rather minor."

"Not to me. It's the principle. Do you think, Mr Hatter, that you could convince him to give the knickers back? I'm not exactly overdressed here, you know."

"Hmmm... possibly. Quiet Bert. What would you be willing to do for me in return?"

"Ahh... pour you some tea?"

"Nope."

"A nice smile?"

"Doubt it."

"I think I can see where this is going."

"I thought you might." His head was bobbing frantically now.

"You'll lose your hat if you keep that up. Tell you what, get the knickers off him, and we can discuss it."

"No, I need commitment."

"I don't mean to be rude, but you are a frail old man. You sure you can manage?"

"You already know nothing here is as you imagine."

"Alright then. Deal."

"Good." He turned then to Bertrand, and whispered to him. Bert frowned, handed over the knickers to The Hatter, turned in that strange way so that he suddenly looked like a rabbit again, and bounded off into the forest. The Mad Hatter lifted his hat, threw the black briefs inside it, and planted it back on his head. "Before or after?"

"Before or after what?"

"Tea, of course."

"Oh. After."

"Would you like milk?"

"Oh, yes please."

"Sugar?"

"Don't I look sweet?"

"Oh, you do. Definitely."

"Just as well. One please."

They sat quietly and drank their tea, The Hatter with a gleam in his eye, Alice with her nightie forgotten, and up around her waist. The mouse slumbered on, snoring loudly, between them.

As the level of tea in the cup got lower, Alice started to feel a little strange. A little distant perhaps, as though every time she spoke, there was a delay before the sound came out of her mouth. When she listened to the old man, as well, it was as though she understood what he was saying before he finished saying it.

"Mr Hatter, was there..."

"Yes?"

"... something? Something in the tea?"

"Milk, you mean, dear?"

"No, not milk. Something... I feel a little strange."

"It will wear off soon enough."

"Soon enough?"

"For you to get your knickers back."

"Oh, good."

The conversation continued, and slowly Alice felt herself merge back into herself, to become one person again, instead of two. It wasn't unpleasant exactly. Just strange.

Putting her empty cup on the table finally, she turned to the Hatter again. "You know, Mr Hatter, I feel much better now."

"I knew you would, Alice."

"In fact I... oh."

"What?"

"Oh, it's... nothing. You... wow. You look younger than you did before."

"Oh, thank you very much."

"No, you're... you're getting younger."

"This is a problem?"

"Well, it's not entirely... Hmmm..."

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, that depends. How does this work? Is the tea affecting me still, and am I just seeing you younger, or has something actually changed?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Of course. You... Oh, you're quite dashing."

"Well, thank you."

"That... that's alright. Just stay there, would you?"

"You think I was going somewhere?"

"No, no. I just want to have a close look." Jumping up from her chair now, and feeling remarkably alright, she hopped over to where the Hatter was sitting. All timidity firmly aside, she clambered up on his lap, facing him, oblivious of her underwear challenged state, and put her hands on the sides of his face. "You seem to be real."

"Isn't that what matters?"

"I guess. You're... Kiss me?"

"What?"

"Come on."

"You're sure?"

"Oh, yes." The Hatter tipped his head down a little to find Alice's mouth, and their lips locked together. Their arms wrapped around one another, as did their tongues. Alice couldn't believe the affect he was having on her, as she pressed herself into his chest, and ground her face into his. "I can't do this without a proper name. What do I call you?"

"Michael."

"Your name is Michael?"

"Close enough."

"Mmmm... Stop talking, Michael. Kiss me again."

The kiss continued, the two of them sitting alone beside the mouse, who still snored in complete ignorance. Eventually, Alice pulled her face away from The Hatter's, and looked up at him. "You know, for an old man who hangs out with a rabbit and a mouse, you're very good at this."