I don't own Alice in Wonderland or any of its characters. Based on the 2010 Tim Burton film.
Rated M for explicit adult content and mild but loving bondage.
This story was created by me partially by a phrase given to me by a special friend, Paradisiacal, and partially by a LiveJournal Prompt.
Thank you, Paradisiacal, for your proofing and suggestions!
And perhaps, another Piece O' Crap! We'll see!
Alice dreams of herself and Tarrant engaging in very compromising behaviour. And when she wakes up, something is very, very different.
"And she tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew your Hallelujah"
*I'll have to update this and credit the lines above. I, once again, cannot locate the source! For an aspiring writer, I'm not terribly organized!*
*Update - with the help of my wonderful readers, here is the proper credit! The song is "Hallelujah" and written by Leonard Cohen and sung by Rufus Wainwright. *
And She Knew
Oh, Tarrant was so beautiful! She had missed him so.
She had missed his porcelain-fine features, his ever-changing rainbow eyes, his lush and crimson mouth that, when he smiled, revealed a gap between his front teeth that, though she did not know why, made her feel weak in her knees. Never out of her mind, either, was his wild and bushy, almost passionate in itself, orange eyebrows and hair. His gentle lisp and his low-burred Outlandish brogue made her spine tingle and her mouth go dry. His teasing and joking one moment and his sudden seriousness and maddening senselessness the next was something that she found she liked. He was like her that way. They both were what she thought of as kaleidoscopic people; never what they seemed and ever-changing.
If she was with him right now, would she actually sip of a cup of tea? Or would he hand her a cup, only to immediately chant "Clean cup, move down, move down!" so she wouldn't even have so much as a drop of the delicious-smelling Earl Grey or Strawberry tea? The very tea that would tease her senses so much that her mouth would water and her senses would swim with the anticipation of it touching her tongue, sliding down her waiting and eager throat and finally settling in her belly and filling her with a sense of satisfaction and completeness?
His coat was peacock-blue today, and so bright in the sunlight Alice felt wan and plain by comparison. His ascot was azure blue and dusky rose, and his hat, though still a bit battered, had a new Life about it. The ribbon seemed almost new, and the breeze about them lifted and caressed it as a lover would. His trousers were purple with peacock-blue pinstripes, and the pinstripes seemed to shimmer. When the young woman attempted to fixate her gaze on them, they would shift position slightly, seeming to deliberately tease her. His endearingly scuffed brown shoes carried him closer to her as he saw her and drew near. His mismatched socks, one red and one dark blue, showed themselves generously, reminding her that his legs were much longer than his trousers. Were all his limbs so long?
Alice blushed. Where were these thoughts coming from? Why was she seeing such beauty in him? And not only his inner beauty, but his outer beauty? She knew she was, at the moment, helplessly fixated on his physical appearance, and his very palpable, almost-right-beside-her-now appearance had a decidedly physical effect on her.
She was blushing, she was beginning to perspire, her knees were weak and her lips were trembling even as she smiled to him in greeting.
Tarrant drew so near that she felt the heat of his lean and muscular body through the layers of fabric that separated them.
"Alice," he lisped, leaning down and brushing the tip of his nose against her ear, tickling it, "you're late again. Naughty!"
"I...I do beg your pardon," she stammered, shivering at the unnerving, yet somehow very welcome, heat of his breath, "but I don't even remember why I'm late! I knew I had things that had to be done, but..."
"You came as soon as you could," he finished for her. He kissed her ear so quickly and softly that Alice wasn't even certain that he did kiss it, much less why! He took her hands in his and turned her to face him fully. "I forgive you, My Alice. But then, I always do, you know." His eyes sparkled emerald green and he favoured her with his gap-toothed smile.
It was then she noticed that his hands were bare. No gloves or thimbles adorned them. Curious, she raised them for closer scrutiny and heard him gasp softly, but he allowed her to do as she would. She saw his scars, the mercury stains and the callouses. She even saw damaged and partially dead fingernails. But none of those things; those badges of honour and signs of dedication to hard work and his Trade repulsed her. These were his hands, and she adored them!
Without asking him, or allowing herself second thoughts, she raised them to her lips and brushed and dappled kisses along every inch of them: his scarred palms, every finger, every scar, and then on the softest skin of his wrists just above.
When she gazed up into his face, fearing that she had been too forward, she was surprised to see that his eyes were lavender and his gaze tender. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch in nervousness, and then curve into a smile of relief and, yes, satisfaction. He liked her attentions!
"You...don't terribly mind my boldness, sir?" she asked him, teasing, yet also needing reassurance despite the tell-tale colouring of his eyes and the expression on his pale, almost ethereal features.
Their gazes locked, and Alice felt work-rough thumbs caress the tops of her own soft hands.
"Mind?" he asked, his voice bemused and his lavender eyes sparkling with amusement and affection. "Why would I mind the Lady of My Heart being bold with me? I find it not only welcome, My Alice, but long, long overdue."
"I have my Muchness," she countered playfully, enjoying the twinkling in his eyes even as his caressing thumbs began to make her feel suddenly warmer.
"Aye," he said, "that you do." He stopped caressing her hands, but her disappointment was short-lived as he raised them to his lips and pressed a warm, slightly moist kiss to each palm in turn, before folding her fingers over them, as if to trap his kisses within. "You'll need your Muchness, My Alice. Come with me."
"But our tea," she said, though her protest sounded feeble even to her own ears. She no longer craved the sweet-smelling concoction. She only craved Tarrant's nearness and attention.
"Perhaps later," he replied, obviously disinterested in tea for perhaps the first time in his life, and began pulling her gently towards his house, "or perhaps not. Let us surprise ourselves, my dear."
They were suddenly in his kitchen and Tarrant pulled a chair from the small table to the centre of the floor. He bade her to sit, and she did, feeling how hard the wood was beneath her bottom. Well, of course it would feel hard; she was, after all, only in her night-gown.
Wait...her night-gown? Had she been wearing her night-gown the entire time? And outside? And in front of a fully-dressed man? How had that happened? Hadn't she dressed that day? And...what had she done earlier that day?
Those questions vanished the moment Tarrant smiled at her and waved his hands before her face. He waggled his fingers playfully, and then suddenly made fists. When he opened his hands again, two scarves fell from each hand onto the floor.
Alice, mesmerised by the sight, looked down to the scuffed wooden floor. There lay four dark purple scarves. Tarrant knelt before her and selected one.
"Do you trust me, My Alice?" he asked, the look on his face still passionate and loving, yet flecks of white were now dotting his large eyes. Somehow Alice knew that those flecks were indications of Lust.
The man she had missed and craved and...loved? for so long was kneeling before her, almost as if he were her slave, and asking her if she trusted him.
Well, of course she trusted him! Without Trust how could there be True Love?
Alice smiled. "I love you, Tarrant," she said, startling them both with her sudden Admission. Then she nodded in supreme Conviction. "I do believe I always have."
Tarrant gaped at her for a moment, then cried out in joy. He leaned into her body and wrapped his arms tightly about her waist and pressed his face to her bosom.
"Oh, My Alice! I've waited so long to hear those words from your lips! I love you, too, you know! And I know that I always have! I love you and need you and...and I need you to trust me now."
Alice closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his cheek and hot breath through the wisp-thin and lacy fabric of her night-gown. His breath came in rapid pants that quickly warmed her right breast. To her embarrassment, yet also her pleasure, the nipple tightened.
Tarrant pulled her closer to him, scooting her slightly forward in the chair, and suddenly took the nipple into his mouth and sucked.
Alice gasped and gripped his shoulders tightly as he wet her breast through her gown. She quivered and shook and felt a strange sensation coil deep in her belly and radiate outwards and then centre in her most Intimate Place. It was a most decidedly odd sensation, but a most welcome one. It was so titillating that Alice felt a wave of embarrassment cascade over her, but then she resolutely Banished it.
No, there was no room for embarrassment between her and Tarrant! She and her Hatter were as they were meant to be. In Love. In Trust. And, right now, in his kitchen, with her breast in his mouth and she trusting him with every fibre of her being.
"I trust you...oh!" she cried, as her nipple grew harder still and his tongue and teeth teased her mercilessly.
"Good," he said, drawing back and looking into her face. "I need you to trust me. I'm going to tie you to this chair, My Alice."
Strangely, this did not frighten or surprise her.
"This is your Throne, and I am your humble Servant," he went on. "I need to tie you and then I need to present to you my Tithe, my Offering, and all of Myself."
"Well, sir, do so!" Alice responded with a smile and obediently sat still for him.
Tarrant grinned and Alice watched his orange head bob and weave as he tied her wrists to the arms of the chair that was, now that she was giving it more of her attention, an unusually wide kitchen chair. He then secured her ankles to the legs, spreading her own rather widely.
"I don't remember this chair being so large and wide before!" she murmured with curiosity, but no tension, in her tone.
"That's because it didn't need to be before. It does now."
"Oh," she said only.
Tarrant then looked into her wide blue-silver eyes. "Remember that you can trust me. I'll not hurt you, My Alice."
"I know," she whispered.
"Even though your hair wants cutting," he added with a mischievous grin.
Somehow, Alice didn't feel the need for an explanation. Why not? On the other hand, why? She trusted him. If he wanted to cut or style her hair, then why complain? The man had impeccable taste, after all, and there was no-one she trusted more with her hair, not to mention every other part of her being, than Tarrant Hightopp: Her Hatter.
Even though the larger part of her knew what he was about, she was still caught by surprise when he lifted her gown to her knees, revealing her bare legs, and more so, exposing not only all of her naked flesh, but her obvious disdain for undergarments when sleeping!
"Oh," he breathed reverently, kissing first one knee, then the other, "I like this, My Alice. You are very Muchy, indeed!"
Alice squirmed in embarrassment. She had completely forgotten that beneath the thin gown she was most extremely and completely nude!
"I don't know what to say!" she panted, his hot, moist kisses covering her knees while his warm hands caressed her calves. "I know that I'm not very proper, but..."
"No 'buts' from you, my dearest," he said, lifting her gown higher and then moving his mouth inwards to her widely spread inner thighs. He then bunched her gown about her waist and used his hands to gently tease the backs of her knees while his wet, open-mouthed kisses travelled further up her thighs and ever closer to her Secret Garden!
"Oh, my!" she moaned, tilting her head back and revelling in the hot and tingling and terribly arousing sensations assailing her entire body, centring in her belly and her ever-moistening Maidenhood. She felt Tarrant grinning against her sensitive skin, and now he was breathing heavily into her softest and most tender flesh.
He inhaled deeply and groaned, almost as if in pain. "You smell exactly as you should, My Alice. You smell of Innocence and Curiosity and Trust and proper Alice-ness. You smell of Our Dreams and Our Love. Now, let me offer you a bit of pleasure to show you a taste of Our Lives Together when you Return For Good." He paused and chuckled softly. "Of course, I'm the one who will be doing the actual tasting, but I want you to just close your eyes and enjoy it, my love. You are ready now."
"I know I am," she whispered, and closed her eyes.
However, she wasn't ready for the sudden rush of pleasure that caused her entire body to stiffen and quake and her feminine core to seep fluids onto the tongue now teasing it.
The Hatter's hands gripped her hips and pulled her forward as his tongue laved up and down her slit, then all around the tender insides of her pink petals of flesh. Alice heard as well as felt him hum his satisfaction as she quivered and gasped from his ministrations. Encouraged and emboldened, apparently, he now stiffened his tongue and wriggled it into her tight opening and into her hot and slick passage.
The unexpected shock of pleasure at his bold invasion of the unplumbed depths of her body caused her to cry out in incoherent ecstasy at not only the sensations of bliss assaulting her heightened nerves, but the sheer act of his taking Possession of her made her feel so completely and utterly His. And she loved it, every bit of it! This was Right. This was so wholly Right!
Even as he used his skilful mouth to elicit the most agreeable of sensations from her, Alice realised that not only was she His, but that he was Hers. She suddenly realised that there was no longer a Tarrant and an Alice, but a TarrantAlice. A Them.
And she liked that. It was Right-Proper.
"Oh God, Tarrant!" she cried out loudly, not caring if any creature or plant within earshot of the house could hear her. He was now using his tongue to tease and wriggle that tiny nubbin of nerves near the top of her femininity. He stiffened his tongue and pressed it on her tiny and delicate organ while suckling and she arched her back and struggled involuntarily at the bonds holding her firmly in place. She was glad of them, for they allowed her body to do as it wished while not preventing Tarrant from giving her the ultimate gift of pleasure and sensations that she had never conceived of.
She was now perspiring profusely and quivering so badly that she began to feel fatigued, yet she was past caring. Tarrant was making her feel so good and so blissful that she wouldn't have cared if every denizen of Underland entered the kitchen right now and saw them. Tarrant was coaxing her to a place so special and celestial that it would have been forever locked and denied her if she had not found Love with Tarrant.
Her Hatter was now flicking his stiffened tongue against that tiny organ of her greatest pleasure and his fingers teased into her wet curls and wriggled, nudging her rapture even higher, until Alice suddenly screamed out his name, stiffening in her bonds and shaking uncontrollably. Flickering golden lights behind her eyelids then exploded into a blinding flash of brightness and her peak of pleasure nearly catapulted Alice out of her own body.
Somehow, however, she was still in her own body and not in this other Celestial Place, and Tarrant was gently kissing her thighs and belly to coax her down carefully and slowly back to herself.
"Oh, Tarrant," she gasped, "I never knew! I never dreamed that such bliss existed!" And then she saw his smile and thought of him. "Tarrant," she added, "what about you? What about your pleasure?"
"Ah, lass, your pleasure is my pleasure." He grinned and kissed her thigh as Alice's breathing began to stabilize. "But don't you worry on my behalf. Are you ready for me? Or...not this time?"
"Ready?" And then she understood. Of course! He wanted to know if she would let him take her completely.
"Tarrant, of course I'm ready! Take me and make me so much yours that you'll never even look at another woman again!"
He giggled at that. "You're being absurd, My Alice! I've not looked at another woman since you came back last time."
Alice blinked in surprise. Tarrant was suddenly naked, his clothing strewn about the floor, and he was straddling the chair and positioned between her legs. When had he shed his clothing?
Ah, but why care? He was naked! He skin was gloriously white, his tiny nipples were lavender and the large root of his Desire was white rouged with purple and pink. Orange hair was lightly sprinkled on his chest and grew thicker as a trail led to his quivering and Needful manhood.
Alice laughed. "This isn't the position I thought we'd be in when doing this for the first time, but I like it! Please, Tarrant, come inside." The last part was spoken in a low and husky voice, betraying her own intense desire.
Tarrant looked down at her bound wrists. "Ah, Alice, perhaps I should untie you first! I forgot..."
"No! Just take me, please, Tarrant. Now."
"Not untie yeh?" His brogue began to creep in. "Are yeh sure, lass?"
"I'm certain, sir," she teased. And then more seriously, she added, "Love me and make me yours!"
He grinned and then leaned forward to kiss her yearning-for-his-kiss lips.
"As yeh wish, Mah Alice! Buh be prepared fer a little pain. Ah'm sorreh."
"Don't be! I'm ready."
And she was. His entry into the sacred temple that was the unbreached core of her body was uncomfortable, but not overly so. Tarrant went slowly and gently, kissing her and whispering endearments in her ear. He was telling her how very much he loved her and needed her, and thanking her for allowing him to love her and trusting him to be not only her first, but her last.
Finally, he was inside her all the way and both were tense with discomfort: Alice because her body was straining to accommodate him, and he because her tightness was almost painful. But as they kissed and allowed their tongues to slowly dance and twine with each other, her body loosened and slowly became the Perfect Fit.
"Mah Alice, Mah onleh Love," he burred softly against her throat now, while Alice leaned her head to the side to give him greater access.
"Move, Tarrant," she pleaded softly, "you feel so good!"
"Aye, tha' Ah dew," he teased, then became serious again. "Buh tell meh if Ah hurt yeh."
Alice had no such intention as he began to move inside her. He slowly moved his pelvis back and forth, and then sometimes he wriggled in an almost stirring motion, as if he needed to feel every nook and cranny and possible secret place of her body.
Oh, he felt wonderful and right being inside her! The more he moved, the more Alice enjoyed not only the bliss of him being inside her, but his own obvious pleasure. His eyes flickered from lavender to gold and back to lavender flecked with white. His face flushed, and his cheeks became infused with a blush of pink. His breathing became ragged, and he was constantly gasping her name.
Alice now almost wished she were untied so she could embrace him, but it was too late now. Besides, she had to admit to herself, she liked him being in control for this – their First Time. It was like being bound and wrapped in a most pleasant Dream.
"Ah, lass, Ah can nae hold out much longeh!" Tarrant gasped, moving more quickly now.
Alice saw his lavender eyes take on more gold and white and his movements become less and less voluntary.
"It's all right!" she assured him. "Let go, Tarrant!"
She was near her peak, as well, as the discomfort had almost disappeared in lieu of the most pleasant assault she had ever experienced. However, Tarrant buried his face in her neck and cried out her name hoarsely as his body trembled and then stiffened. Alice felt warm fluid spurt from his shaft into her hot and constricting tunnel. She didn't quite reach her peak, and Tarrant knew it. As he was shuddering his release he reached between their bodies and rubbed his thumb over her tiny clit until she was gasping once more. Her own release followed soon after.
Panting and smiling with pleasure and basking in the warmth of their loving afterglow, they pressed their foreheads together.
"I love you," they whispered simultaneously, and then giggled.
Tarrant carefully withdrew from her and stood. Alice was suddenly very tired.
"Sir, I fear that you have nearly done me in. I'm quite exhausted!" She yawned, and then grinned in embarrassment. "Excuse me!"
"Nothin' needs teh be excused," he said, chuckling. "In fact, wearin' out a lass is one of th' finest compliments a man can git!" Then he leaned down to his suit jacket and pulled something from one of the voluminous pockets.
"Close your eyes," he said. "Your hair wants cutting."
Alice obeyed, as much out of acquiescing to his request as from her own extreme fatigue. Then she heard the sound of shears snipping. She heard them behind her head but felt nothing. A fresh wave of exhaustion swept over her; she felt her head slowly bob forward, and she fought it. She threw her head back, attempting to snap herself awake.
Suddenly the chair was tipping over, and the last thing Alice heard was the sound of splintering wood and Tarrant desperately crying out her name.
All awareness fled her, and Alice knew no more.
She opened her eyes and took in the scene before her with a horrible wave of disappointment. She was in her family home in London and not with Tarrant.
It...it had all been a dream? Their Loving had all been a dream?
Sighing in sadness, she sat up. Then she realised that something was different. This morning was very, very different.
Tentatively, Alice reached beneath her night-gown and gingerly touched herself at the juncture of her thighs. She was...sticky.
Alice gasped. She was sticky! Tarrant's seed, blended with her own dried blood and juices, was in her quim and on the tops of her thighs. She then remembered another important detail. She left her bed and went to stand before the Looking Glass. Yes...it was as she had hoped and expected. A single curling lock from the left side of her face was now much shorter.
"Your hair wants cutting," he had said, and now she laughed softly. It wasn't her hair that had wanted cutting, it was Tarrant who had wanted to cut her hair!
Alice Kingsleigh smiled as she fluffed her blonde tresses. No-one but she and Tarrant would notice that a piece of it was gone. Obviously it was a Keepsake for Tarrant. Her only regret was that she had not remained with him long enough to tell him that he could consider it a Gift.
It had happened – all of it! There was no denying it and it was not just wishful thinking. The magic of Underland had been kind to them. And then, with that realization, the strongest sense of Knowledge and Certainty she had ever known insinuated itself into her mind. It had all been Real.
And there was Something Else.
One day, about six weeks later, Alice's suspicions were confirmed by a Midwife who was known and respected for her discretion.
She looked down, for what must have been the thousandth time, at her hand. On her left hand, still the most common finger for an engagement or wedding ring, Alice saw a ring that had been lovingly crafted from a blending of blonde and orange hair, tightly and firmly bound and very strong.
The Proposal itself she barely remembered, but that hardly mattered. It was Real and True and Right!
She smiled. She would be returning to Tarrant very soon. And this time she would Stay, she and her unborn baby both. The three of them would be a Family.
Alice sat at her desk and began to pen a letter to her mother.
I hope you all enjoyed this story of a blending of two different inspirations. All comments are welcome!