A.M. Wyckid's Erotic Word-Forge

Alice in Wonderland syndrome(AIWS, named after the novel written by Lewis Carroll), also known as Todd’s syndrome[1], is a disorienting neurological condition which affects human perception. Sufferers may experience micropsia, macropsia, and/or size distortion of other sensory modalities. A temporary condition, it is often associated with migraines, brain tumors, and the use of psychoactive drugs.[citation needed] It can also present as the initial sign of the Epstein-Barr Virus (see mononucleosis). Anecdotal reports suggests that the symptoms of AIWS are fairly common in childhood[citation needed], with many people growing out of them in their teens. It appears that AIWS is also a common experience at sleep onset.

— Wikipedia

Behind The Bookcase

When Alice found the room behind the bookcase she was, at first, surprised. When she understood that it couldn’t possibly be there because it extended through an outside wall of the house and into the front yard where there was no such room, surprise turned to terror. She stood with her heart hammering fear into her chest and her breath coming in ragged sobs for a while until, after a time, when nothing really bad happened, her terror subsided and her curiosity soothed her fears and urged her to investigate.

Okay, this is really weird and impossible, she thought, pulling the bookcase further away from the wall and widening the opening from a mere crack to something a few inches wide.

Ooo … unh … ahhh … huh, huh, huh, came the sounds again. It wasn’t exactly the same as before, of course, but it was these sounds or sounds like them, of a woman in obvious and undeniable pleasure, that got her to move the bookcase and find the room behind in the first place.

“Oh, yes!” Now there was more than sounds; there was a voice, too. Alice looked, once more, out the window into the the sun-drenched front yard where the room would have to extend across the rose-beds and onto the lawn, then looked behind the bookcase into the vague dark-room-like illumination that dimly lit the narrow strip of floor where the carpeting of her living-room ended and the wooden floor of that impossible room began.

“Oh god, yes!” the voice came again.

Alice, all fear gone now, had become quite desperate to know what was going on. The loaded bookcase was far too heavy to move. It was in danger of tipping and falling to the floor, crushing the coffee table as it was. As she grabbed arm-loads of books from the shelves and dumped them unceremoniously onto the couch, the passionate sounds and occasional exclamations continued.

Ooo … unh … unh … unh and “Oh, yes! More!”

If you don’t get a move on, Alice, she’ll be done before you finish! she chided herself. She wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to see the woman before she climaxed, but this was her house, after all, hers and Peter’s anyway, and she had the right to know who was having such a good time in it, since she never did.

Even with the books off the shelves it wasn’t all that easy to move the heavy oak bookcase, but she grabbed the end and pulled it back and across the sun-bright window, reducing the light in the room by half. Alice ran round to the other end, and now the opening was fully visible. It was too narrow — a bit more than a foot-and-a-half wide — and too short — perhaps four feet tall — to be called a ‘doorway’ though it had those proportions. Alice stood with her back against the wall beside the opening. Now that it was uncovered, her fears were back. Anything could come out of there, she thought.

“Yes, … yes …don’t… stop!” the voice cried out.

Alice steeled herself, ducked down, peered around into the opening and into the dim red lit room trying to orient on the somehow too familiar voice of the woman. If you were counting the odd things that were about, there were an awful lot of them to count. The hole in the wall, the room that couldn’t be, the strange red light that seemed to come from nowhere, the impassioned woman, Alice’s curious reaction to her fear, and a thousand other minor details too small to notice, but Alice wasn’t counting. As her head pass through the low and narrow opening she was hit with a wave of dizziness and she staggered — or was it jumped? — and fell — or was it lunged? — through the narrow opening. Somehow it seemed to take a very long time for her to fall to her knees on the floor and as the plane of the strange opening passed through her — or was it she that passed through it? — it left a peculiar ache behind. First, her head, then arms and shoulders, then chest and abdomen, and finally legs. Alice came to rest on the floor in the opening with her ankles still in her own living-room, but the rest of her in the impossible room.

If you were still counting odd things, there were now a few more to add to the list. Alice’s sports-bra had doubled in size as had her tight running shorts. The garments were so big that they threatened to fall right off of her. There was a line of achiness that sliced through her shins where they intersected the opening back to her home. Looking back through the opening, Alice could see that her shoes, feet, and ankles had ballooned up to twice their normal size. With difficulty, she pulled one foot through the opening and that line of dull pain tracked down across her ankle and foot, while her body parts resumed normal size, her huge gun-boat of shoe remained huge and dropped off her foot. Her enormous workout sock hung limp on her foot, seeming the size of a kitchen trash-bag. She pulled her other foot through the opening away from the pain and lost her other shoe.

The woman, who had been the prime object of Alice’s attention until the strange events of going through the opening had driven her right of out Alice’s mind, now resumed center stage by loosing a long drawn-out half-growl, half-howl. Alice jumped to her feet, with her socks sagging down around her ankles, and looked toward the woman.

There were yet more things that could now be tacked onto the end of the odd-list. The woman was a giant, easily nine feet tall. All of her furnishings were also proportionately giant-sized. And last, and most disturbing, she looked exactly like Alice!

When viewing an optical-illusion, the viewer can experience a sudden shift in perception, seeing things first one way and then another. Back and forth. Alice’s perceptions shifted in that way now. The evidence was all there, but her mind refused to accept it, but now looking at her double, she experienced a flip in the forced perspective she’d been accepting. Alice knew that it wasn’t her clothing that had grown; it was she herself that had shrunk. Shrunk to about half her normal size.

Alice backed away from her double, holding her top in place with one hand and her shorts in place with the other, and the feeling of her double being a giant returned.

“Oh, Jacques! That was the best, ever!” the double sighed, sprawled back on the couch with her eyes closed. Alice continued to back away and her perspective continued to flip. First, herself small and her double normal size, then herself normal-sized in giant clothes and the double and the furniture giant-sized.

Alice backed into the opening into normality and came up against a solid window-glass-like surface that covered it, and, in striking the unexpected surface, it gave off the most absurd, cartoon-sounding and elongated Boing! sound. Her double’s eyes snapped open and she said with derision dripping thickly from her words, “Oh look, Jacques, it’s her!”

Jacques Comes Up For Air

There is something terrifying about meeting one’s self. That feeling is magnified if your other doesn’t seem to be particularly happy about seeing this you. And this feeling is magnified perhaps twice again if your other self is double your size.

Alice looked Big-Alice over desperately, trying to see some difference that would make that other one not-her, but found nonesuch. She was dressed in a way that Alice would never have dared, and if dressed was was the right word for it. The shiny black formfitting suit covered her from wrists to ankles with an opening around her face that had a widow’s peak of latex, a tiny little triangular dip at the forehead, and a bit that cupped her chin below her brightly red-glossed lips. Coming down across the chest, a narrow strip of latex ran between her breasts which were, themselves, laid bare in two circular openings, the nipples hard and engorged. Coming down further across the abdomen and between the legs the suit opened again to bare her genitals which had been cleaned of pubic hair and so were visible in their least detail. The glistening lips of her sex pointed directly at Alice between her bent and lewdly splayed legs.

A low fart-like sound riveted Alice’s attention on Big-Alice’s crotch. Terror turned slowly to horror as a tiny hand emerged from between Big-Alice’s pussy lips, loosing more of the swampy sounds. It was shortly followed by a second hand, one on either side. Horror built, nauseatingly, as a tiny wet-suit covered head emerged from Big-Alice’s depths with a sickening squelch. The tiny scuba-diver heaved his body out to the waist from her pussy with a bright yellow scuba-tank strapped to his back. He pulled back his diving mask and removed the mouthpiece which continued to hiss out compressed air. He slid his small hand under Big-Alice’s fleshy hood and stroked across her clitoris. The giantess hissed a sharp intake of breath and sighed out pleasure, then, “Don’t be naughty, Jacques. We have company.”

Jacques turned awkwardly in Big-Alice’s tight opening to face little-Alice. “Ah, yes, her.” he echoed, his tone a copy of his mistress’s disdain. Alice had expected a high-squeaky voice, but Jacques was a baritone rather than the soprano his size and cartoon physics might have suggested. “Perhaps, now that she’s here,” he continued. “She’ll finally do something interesting. Or, if not, then perhaps we can do something interesting with her.… Or to her.”

Alice’s mind had had quite enough of this. She’d been thinking she was dreaming and wanted desperately to wake up. Failing that, she flipped over into the idea that she’d gone quite insane, which was far more comforting than the alternative that what was happening to her was actually real. Now none of that mattered. Her fight or flight reflex cut in with a surge of adrenaline and she forgot all about her saggy clothing. She turned to the window-glass-like covering over the now normally door-sized opening and hammered it with both fists. Boing! Boing! it went absurdly. She looked back over her shoulder at the pair — one giant and one too small to even be a midget — and they howled with laughter. She turned and ran toward a Big-Alice-sized door-less opening and down a dimly lit hall with their laughter chasing her all the way.

Bedroom Ceiling

Alice ran down the hall, and turned up a staircase with steps much too big for her. Along the right side was a smaller, Jacques-size, set of stairs; nine inches wide with eleven steps for every one of the Big-Alice-sized ones. She was exhausted from the ascent on the fifteen too-large stairs. Some unexpectedly calm portion of her mind first calculated that she’d gone up about twenty-five feet, but then adjusted the scale for her reduced size and came up with a height that put her just a bit above the height of the ceiling of her house. She ran down a hall, took a left and skidded to a stop, feeling like a cartoon character that has run off a cliff and is about to remember that there is such a thing called gravity before falling. She stood, naked since she’d lost all of her much too large clothing in her mad dash, looking down onto the expanse of her bed, thinking, Oh good, that will make for a soft landing!

She stood looking down expecting to fall at any moment, but then she felt the smooth glass-like surface under her toes and decided that she wasn’t standing on air after all. The bird’s eye perspective of the place where she slept was startling. The big bed, her dresser and Peter’s, the chair in the corner. Everything looked too big, and still somehow too far away. Alice crossed the bedroom and stood over the master-bath. She ran off a short way and now she could see down into the top shelf of the linen closet in the hall. So that’s where that missing flashlight had got off to, she thought, noting it stuck against the back wall on the top shelf. She moved on and came to the living-room. The couch was covered in the books she’d removed from the bookcase which was pulled out of position, but there was no sign of the hole in the wall that had been her entrance into this strange reality. The wall that surrounded the outer edge of the large space that gave view onto everything that was her life matched up perfectly with the outer walls of the house itself.

“Here she is!” The voice was Jacques’ baritone.

Alice turned and there he was, standing in the open doorway though which she’d come. So far, it was the only exit from this place she’d seen. He only came up to her mid-thigh which made him about a foot tall to her just over three. There was a clicking sound out in the hall, slow and measured, and soon a boot with a long heel and a high platform stepped into view followed by Big-Alice, who stood astride her diminutive counterpart who put his hand on one of the slanted columns that were her legs. “Vanilla, Alice?” she said, wearily. “Seriously, why does it always have to be vanilla? Couldn’t we have a little chocolate now and again? A little rope, maybe? Some light spanking? Dogie-style? Oral? Anal? We don’t ask for much. We’ll show you what we like.”

Horsing Around

At first she was too scared to run, and by the time that passed, Big-Alice was already reaching for her. She ran then, but it was too late. She only made a half dozen of her short steps before the giantess grabbed her by her ponytail and yanked her to a stop. There was a brief struggle followed by a painful and humiliating spanking, and then Alice had to yield. Big-Alice knelt and fastened a collar around her throat, snapped a leash into the collar, and led her sobbing back down the stairs.

“I’m not an animal!” she said a short while later, trying to sound more defiant than she felt.

“You are if I say you are, my pet,” Big-Alice said. “Get on your knees.”

“N-no,” Alice stammered.

“Do you need me to take you over my knee again?” Big-Alice threatened.

“No, mam,” There was something about her size in relation to her tormentor that made her feel like a little girl again and old patterns were re-emerging.

“Good. Then get down.”

Alice dropped to her knees and the giantess pushed her her down until she was on all fours. “Jacques, your steed awaits,” she said.

With a whoop, the tiny man jumped onto her back. He only weighed five pounds, so it was not the weight that made her feel so oppressed, it was the treatment. Big-Alice handed him the leash and Jacques guided her by pulling the leash this way and that to show her where he wanted her to go. If she moved too slow, he slapped her ass with all his might. Even though he was small, so was his hand, and those slaps still hurt a great deal. As she went on though, something strange was happening. Alice’s sex life was dismal. The low-point of that sex life was when Peter would come home, usually a little tipsy, crawl on top of her and put himself inside her, thrust for a few minutes, and then roll off of her and go to sleep. The highlight was when, every few days, she’d lay down on the bed and let her fantasies go wild. Images of muscular and cruel men who would use her in ways much more degrading than what Big-Alice had done so far. And as she was taken violently in her head, her fingers would bring her real-self to a climax that was mostly satisfying. But now, something different was happening. The cruelty was real, the control was not in her head, she was unable to touch herself, and yet the feelings were building far beyond anything she’d experienced before. I’m a … a … masochist, she thought. It was the only word she knew to describe anything like what was going on. As she understood it, that was person who became excited when they were hurt, used, or controlled. Because of her fantasy life, she decided that she must have always been one.

She began to calm down, became less scared of what was going on, and was getting into the playful spirit. She went too slow on purpose, causing Jacques to give her a stinging slap on the ass. Then she took off with all the speed she could muster, making him reign her in. She reared back like an out of control mare and Jacques clung to the leash and yelled “Whoa, horse!” She came back to all fours and everyone laughed.

As they continued on after that, Alice thought, “Too bad Jacques isn’t bigger.” Only then did she realize that she’d said it aloud rather than thinking it.

“Oh, Jacques can be any size I want him to be,” Big-Alice explained. “Why? Do you want him to give you a hot beef injection?”

“What?” Alice began, and then she understood. “Well … um …”

“You want him to fuck you,” Big-Alice said in sing-song. “What about Peter, don’t you love him?”

“Well … uh …”

“He’s a lousy lay,” Big-Alice stated.

“He’s not! How would you know, anyway?” Alice said defensively.

Big-Alice chuckled quietly for a few moments, then said, “I stood over your bed for months waiting for you two to do the nasty in a way that was … well …nasty. It’s actually much more interesting to see you do yourself than it is to watch the pathetic three minute dance you two call fucking. I’d watch him roll you onto your back, stick it in, and grind away. I’d look down into your face and wonder Is she thinking about the shopping or the laundry right now? Girl, you’ve got to get yourself a life. Maybe, starting with a sex life.”

Alice noticed for the first time, in full consciousness, something that she’d known all along: Big-Alice didn’t just look like her, Big-Alice was her. Or, at least, an alternative version of her. One that was aggressively comfortable with her sexuality, assertive in her beliefs and desires, and out-spoken about her opinions. Everything Alice wanted to be, but wasn’t. It was almost like the good-Kirk / bad-Kirk of some old Star Trek episode. Not that Big-Alice was evil and she good, the divide between them was not nearly so straight-forward. Alice knew that she could trust her counter-part as much as she could trust herself.

Bound

“Dismount!” Big-Alice said, like some cavalry officer calling her troopers to a halt at the end of long day’s ride. Jacques swung himself to the floor by the the leash.

She looked down into the tiny man’s face and he whispered, “I wish I was bigger, too. Ooo, baby!” He thrust his tiny but erect penis in her direction. “I’d give you at least four minutes, maybe even five!”

“Knock it off, you two,” Big-Alice said playfully. “You’ve never gone less than six, you silly little man.” She scooped her small double off the floor and set her on the edge of the table.

Alice felt the smooth, cool, padded surface and looked at the table. This table had only one purpose and Alice knew what that purpose was. She looked at Big-Alice with the tingle intensifying between her legs. “You’re going to …”

The corner of Big-Alice’s mouth twitched into a smirky grin, “Yes!” She took a coil of rope from a basket beside the table, undid a knot and shook the line out. It seemed to come alive in her hands and she began to bind Alice’s arms to her sides. This was a matter of skill instead of some kind of magic of that impossible place. The movements reminded Alice of a sketch artist. Each movement was bold and sure, and the wraps of rope around her body were like the lines in a drawing. She began by holding the doubled center of the rope on Alice’s chest just above her breasts. She took the doubled lines around and then through the center loop, reversed direction and came around her body and back through the loop again. There was now a wide band around her chest and upper arms composed of four strands of rope. Big-Alice split the lines now, taking one to each side where it cinched the band between her chest and her arms. Before the cinches had been added, the band around her chest had been rather loose, but now it was tight and yet still comfortable. Big-Alice repeated the same process with a new coil of rope three more times. Once just below her breasts, again across the stomach and just below the elbows, and finally across the lower abdomen at the wrists.

Big-Alice shoved her down on her back on the table in a way that reminded Alice of the men in her fantasies. She felt helpless, and that feeling only intensified when Big-Alice bound her calf to her thigh and then fastened the knee down to the edge of the table. When she began to work on the other leg, Alice was sure that she was going to treat it similarly which would have left her spread wide open, and very exposed. What actually happened was different and left her even more exposed than she would have been. Big-Alice tied a wide loop around her ankle, exactly how she’d begun on the other leg, but now she ran the lines up though a big steel ring suspended above the table. As she pulled down, Alice’s leg went up until it was extended straight up toward the ceiling, then Big-Alice pulled more until Alice was pulled off the table slightly. She could feel how the position caused her pussy to gape open, and even her rear-hole, where the men in her head sometimes used her, was exposed in a way she’d never even dreamed of.

“What do you think Jacques. Want to lick her?”

“Uh … she so … hairy,” he said slowly.

“Right. Jacques doesn’t like pussy hair. That’s why I did mine.” She stroked across her smooth mound and parted her lips with a sigh. “It was well worth it. Get the rug munchers, Jacques.”

Oh god! Alice thought. What are rug munchers?

Rug Munchers

Rug Munchers turned out to be the strangest little creatures. Half slug and half sea-horse with little goat-like beards and stalked snail eyes. Like some weird version of an armless centaur, only candy-striped in red, white, black and blue. They were actually kind of pretty. Alice was prepared for them to be cold and slimy and winced when Big-Alice dumped the three two-inch little creatures on her stomach. Instead of cold and slimy, they were actually hot and, yes, slimy. Or at least their little foot seemed to exude a slick almost lube-like substance. They got their bearings, looking around on their stalked eyes, then headed south for her pubic hair. When they reached the edge of her patch, they began cropping it like goats going after a grass lawn. They pulled hairs up by the roots in two and threes then chewed and swallowed. It hurt a little, but it was no worse than plucking her eyebrows, at least, not yet.

Smack! She’d been so intent on the little creatures that she hadn’t noticed Big-Alice wind up and slap her on the inner thigh of her up-stretched leg. Her Oww turned to an Ahh as Big-Alice slid her fingers between her lips and stroked up toward and across her clitoris. Then Jacques came walking across her chest, sat between her breasts and grabbed a nipple in each hand. “Oh, god!” Alice moaned.

Big-Alice covered her clit with a finger as the munchers got close and gave it a little side-to-side vibration. “We’ll save that patch for last, my dear,” and the little creatures went around, one going down each side and the last picking up the occasional strays between her lips. With the attention of the rug munchers, Jacques stimulation of her nipples, and Big-Alice working her pussy with a slap on the thigh or ass now and again, Alice was getting quite worked up.

The muncher going down the middle had less work to do, but had to hunt for food in the folds of her labia. It parted them this way and that, as it stretched out the loose surfaces, and cleaned her up, adding its own hot secretions to her own, making her very wet and slick. This made for slower going. Still, he got a little ahead of his companions. He reached the bottom of her slit and found the pickings there a lot less lean. Then he began working on the area around the little hole itself. The sharp little plucks, the nuzzle of his tiny mouth, and even the stroke of his silky little beard were all driving Alice mad. She felt the other two munchers turn back north toward the last little patch that Big-Alice had saved. The giantess moved her finger as they approached. She inserted one of her large fingers into little-Alice as the muncher began cropping her clit hair, and Alice shrieked with the mix of pain and pleasure as the finger probed into her, feeling about the size of a smallish cock. Then Big-Alice added a second finger and now it was more girth than Alice had felt in that passage before. The southern muncher’s foot slid right onto her hole and the orifice clenched and twitched with the sensation as the little creature cropped the last of the hair from that region. One of the munchers blunt teeth nibbled her clit as it pulled out the last hair and the other nuzzled around looking for more.

Big-Alice picked up the little creatures one-by-one and dropped them back into the jar from whence they came. Alice thought she heard the last one give off a little contented belch as he joined his brothers.

Big-O

The rest was most satisfying. Somewhere along the way, Big-Alice had made Jacques grow from one-third little-Alice’s height to something just about half. She looked down as his head appeared between her legs and she didn’t recognize him at first. His tongue licked her from the top of her soppy slit just above her little hole that now yearned for more stimulation. As he came upward, one of his small hands slipped into her pussy and caressed her G-spot and the other stroked across the muncher-slick little hole and, first one, then two, and finally three of his small fingers slid into her. Peter had wanted to use her there once, but she’d put her foot down. She didn’t think she would be turned on by such attention, but she was wrong. Still, Peter hadn’t earned such a privilege, and she was certain he would have disappointed her in his typical fashion, even if she’d allowed it.

“Oh, fuck!” she sighed and gasped for breath.

One of Big-Alice’s hands moved from nipple to nipple on her chest. The other stroked her hair, then her cheek, and finally one finger touched her lips. Alice was struck then by how the clashes in scale made her feel. On the one hand, Jacques, at half of her size, made her feel like she was be attended by a child. On the other, Big-Alice’s large hands, at twice normal size, stroking her head and chest, made her feel like a child herself. She would have thought such collisions in expectation would be distracting and disturbing, but now, in the moment, Alice found the double adult-child-divide very exciting. She understood why some women liked tall men or some men liked large women, and, at the same time, she understood the reverse.

All rational thought was driven out of her then as Jacques’ whole hand entered inside her tight sphincter. Then as both hands, one in her pussy and the other in her ass, expanded and contracted as they slowly closed and opened, and he licked her clit, the inevitable happened and Alice rode on wave after wave of pleasure, never-ending.

Alice Goes For A Walk

Alice was only dimly aware of what happened after that. Her next clear recollection was of being spooned by Big-Alice behind her and spooning child-sized Jacques in front. Both seemed to be deeply asleep, and Alice would have liked nothing more than to remain there with them except, she needed very badly to pee. A need that was rapidly becoming more urgent. She picked up Big-Alice’s arm and moved it off of her and then eased herself over Jacques and out of the bed. Alice turned to look at the pair and the issues of scale hit her again. Intellectually she understood that Big-Alice was simply normal-Alice sized, about five-foot-six, while she, herself was about half-size, a few inches under a yard, and Jacques was freaky-small, about eighteen inches tall, but without any of the proportions of infancy: large head and torso, and short limbs. No, he was shaped just like an adult man, and an attractive one at that. His size was about double the eight or nine inches it had been when he climbed out of her double’s pussy earlier.

Big-Alice groaned and reached out, evidently missing Alice. She found Jacques instead and pulled him against her. Jacques loosed a contented sigh and slipped back into a deep slumber. The pressure increased in Alice’s bladder, and she slipped quietly out of the room and into the hall.

There’s always a bathroom near the bedroom, Alice thought. She heard the sound of running water which made her need even more urgent in that perverse way that it will. She moved toward the sound, hoping that the running water would be associated with some sort of facility. About now, I’d even pee in the sink if I have to. Across the hall and down a little she found the opening from which the sound came. She stepped through the doorway and the floor turned to cool wet sand, as if she just walked onto a beach. The walls became water-smoothed stone. The sound of rushing water came from a little water fall that came down on the left side and pattered into a small pool that was raised higher than the rest of the room. The water overflowed out of that and into a small sink-like basin. From there it poured into a trough that ran down the right side of the room and into a wide drain. So, from left to right, it’s shower, tub, sink, and so this must be the toilet, she thought looking at the trough. There were some low plants with wide fuzzy-looking leaves growing beside the trough. She remembered hearing about backpackers using leaves of plants like that as emergency toilet paper.

She found a spot where she could squat with her feet in the sand and her back comfortably against the smooth stone. The water rushed in under her from the right side, then out into the drain on the left, and the plants were within easy reach. If this wasn’t what she thought it was, it would do for what she desperately needed.

She let loose and the stream gushed from her and into the running water to be swept away down the drain. The pleasure of the release made her think back to being tied on the table; of Jacques’ hands inside her and his tongue licking her, Big-Alice spanking and stroking her, and the rug munchers cleaning between her legs. She looked down to her smooth mound, and hairless lips. She’d seen it before, of course. On her double, but it wasn’t the same. This was really her, and the way it looked, the utter nakedness of it, made her shudder with delight. I wonder what Peter will think when he sees it, she wondered as she stroked a finger across her clit. Fuck Peter. Or better still, Peter can go fuck himself! The thought made her chuckle.

She finished, stood, and then dipped her hands in the basin. She found the water comfortably warm. Next, she ran up the steps and jumped into the pool. The water came up to her chest and that meant it was about two feet in depth, but felt like four. She looked up to where the light shown down from above, like daylight filtering around corners and through cracks down into some rocky grotto. If I could climb up there into the light, I wonder what I’d find? she thought. Would it be sunlight shining on some hill-top, or would it just be a light bulb tucked up there? Does the light here stay constant or come and go with the day and night? Is it always sun-yellow, like this? Or is it moon-silver sometimes? She realized something then. Something important about herself. I don’t want to know. Knowing would ruin the magic.

She swam out toward the little water fall. The floor there was higher and she stood knee deep in the water, and stuck her hand into the waterfall. It was like a gentle rain in the front, but intensified into a good hard pounding toward the back. She backed into it as far she could stand and let the water crash over her. There was something soothing and yet exhilarating about the way the warm water slapped into her skin. It reminded her of being spanked by Big-Alice.

There was a wide dry ledge just one tall step above the pool. Alice climbed out onto it and lay face-down along the edge gazing down at the sandy floor one small-Alice length below. The rock was smooth and warm. The heat seeped into her and made her sleepy.…

Going Home

“Alice?”

… ??? …

“Wake up, Alice.”

… ??? …

“Alice!” Big-Alice was shaking her gently. “It’s time to go home.”

“Do I have to?” she whined and opened her eyes to gaze into her larger double’s face.

“Yes. Peter will be home soon.”

“Fuck Peter. I want to stay here forever.”

“No you don’t,” Big-Alice said with certainty.

She’s right, Alice realized. She’d miss mom and sis, her friends, and even Peter. If only he wasn’t so … So … what? She wondered. Peter-like, was the best she could do. “Okay, but can I come back?”

“Yes, but not right away. Give it some time to sink in first. Maybe next week.” Big-Alice picked her up and set her on the floor. “Go back out the way you came in,” she said. “Otherwise, you’ll still be small.”

Alice went back into the red-lit room. Threw her two giant-size running shoes and her over-sized clothes back into the living-room and was about to go through herself.

“Wait!” she heard Jacques cry. He ran into the room and jumped up into her arms like a small child will do. “I want to say goodbye.” He said and kissed her in the most un-child-like manner while his hands touched her in fun places. “Are you going to miss me?” he asked.

“Yes, I think I will,” Alice said with a tear in her eye.

“You’ll come back?” Jacques asked.

“Yes,” she said and backed through the hole.

“Oww, fuck it!” Alice screamed. She’d clipped her head on the top edge of the hole when she shot back to her normal height. She held her head and whimpered. It was impossible for her not to think about Big-Alice watching her from over-head. She looked up, pulled herself together, smiled, and waved.

Peter would be home soon, and she didn’t want him to find the hole. She began to lug the bookcase back into position. Once she had it there, she thought the better of it. It would be a pain in the ass next week when she want to go back through. She moved it to the left of the hole and turned it to sit on the wall between the couch and the hole, then loaded the books back onto the shelves. Once that task was complete, she found a batik wall hanging of purple hearts and geometric patterns that she liked but Peter hated. It covered the hole nicely.

She left her running clothes sitting on the coffee table and went to the kitchen to fix something to eat. Suddenly, an entire day of excitement, fear, sex, and sleep without any food caught up with her, and she was ravenous. That’s where Peter found her when he got home.

The Problem of Peter

“Hi honey, I’m home,” he called from the living room. She heard him putting up his coat and other things and then he came in behind her. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m having eggs on toast. I’m not sure what you’re having.” She turned to look up at him and that revealed what she was wearing, or not wearing as was the case. Then she turned back to her food and ate the last forkful of eggs and the last bite of toast.

“Are you … uh … okay, Alice?” he asked. “Why aren’t you wearing anything?”

“I’m fine,” she said with a snort. “Just peachy, and ’cause I don’t feel like wearing anything.”

“Are you mad at me?” he asked almost shyly.

That gave her pause. It was as much her own fault as it was his. She couldn’t really be any more angry with him than she was with herself. “No. Not really,” she said with a sigh.

He came and sat at the end of the table beside her. She turned her chair toward him, slouched down, lifted a heel onto the chair, and let her knee splay out to the side. He’s going to have to find out eventually, she thought. “How was your day?” she asked and let her hand slide down from her knee, across her thigh, and between her legs.

“That’s … uh … very interesting,” he said, his eyes riveted on her pussy. “When did you have that done?”

“Oh, a month ago. I’ve been waiting for you to notice.” He looked at her in surprise, and she laughed. “No, it was just today.”

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked nervously.

“Who, you mean,” she teased. The look he gave her made her laugh full-out.

“What do you mean?” he asked defensively.

She shrugged. “You’re supposed to be smart. Figure it out.”

“Well if you’re going to be like that,” he said, getting hot now, “I’m going to have a bite and drink with the guys.”

“Yeah, you do that,” she said to his back.

Alice sat up in bed and looked down at Peter as he slept. It was all different now. She couldn’t go back to the way things were. She didn’t want to. Peter was a lousy lay, and, now, Alice needed more. She could continue to visit Big-Alice and Jacques, but when Peter climbed onto her, after coming home sloshed, again, and it was the same thing as always, she thought she was going to scream or even bash his brains in with the lamp on her bed-side table. She’d tried to get him to slow down, tried to get something different to happen, but it was useless in his condition. She couldn’t let him use her like that ever again. Somehow, she was going to have to change Peter in the same way she’d been changed. She took the covers and striped them down off the bed and onto the floor.

“Unhhhh!” he complained. “What the hell, Alice, it’s cold.”

“Get up. I have something to show you,” she said.

“Not now, honey, I have to be at work in the morning,” he said.

Alice grabbed him by his ear and pulled, “I said, get up!”

“Oww, that hurts,” he cried, but did roll groggily out of bed. “What is it?”

She led him to the living-room. She’d come down and checked a little while ago to see if the hole was back. The rest of the plan came easy. She unhooked the wall hanging and dropped it on the couch then got behind him like a scared little girl. “I heard a sound and I found this,” she said, and added, to stroke his ego, “I’m frightened, Peter, I need you to check it out.”

“What the hell is that!” Peter exclaimed looking at the hole. He had one hand on each edge and his head ducked down to peer into the the dim redness.

“I’ll show you,” Alice said. “Give me your hand.” Without looking back at her, Peter reached back with one hand. Alice took it and folded it along the small of his back, then she put her foot on his ass and gave him a good hard shove. As his head pass through the interface between home and wonderland, he lost his balance. She pried the fingers of his other hand off the edge where he clung like a man trying desperately not to fall to his death. It took one more kick to get him all the way through. Alice replaced the wall-hanging. Big-Alice will take care of little-Peter, she thought. I can call in sick for him tomorrow and then it’s the weekend. He won’t be the same when he gets back. I wonder if she’ll teach him to eat pussy? Yeah, she will! I can spend the day getting ready for when he gets back. The hardware store will have rope, and I’ll get him a collar at the pet store, or, better, at Red Satin Dungeon. They’ll have all kinds of toys. Time to go shopping!