The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales(168)

I longed to go home to my nursery with the broken furniture and tattered wallpaper. I longed to see my parents, even if all my presence earned from them was frowns. “You would get me out of here?”

His mouth lingered over mine, the Hatter’s breath filling my nostrils as he hissed, “Oh, yessssssss.”

Heart racing at the thought of freedom, there was no question on my part. Stretching my neck, I gave him the kiss I’d denied him all those years ago, and felt him chuckle at the innocent press of my lips to his.

I counted to three before drawing back, and his laughter came all the louder.

The Hatter was positively cackling. “You would think that was a kiss, wouldn’t you?”

He fell upon me before I might try again, his mouth sucking the air from my lungs. His tongue drove in, his lips slid over mine, and I felt the kiss a man might give a woman. It was a shocking thing, and all I could fathom in that instance was a single repetitive question: why did it feel good.

He was still laughing, his body seizing and shaking in mirth. No, that wasn’t laughter, it was another noise. It was an extended groan, racking moans, and I could feel them vibrate in my chest—just as that machine had vibrated between my thighs.

There was a twinge, a reason I felt a dire need to press my legs closed. Head driven back upon the padded floor, I angled my jaw away. Sucking in a breath, I felt the Hatter’s tongue lick at my lips while he allowed me a brief offering of air.

Though his fingers were spread, hands braced on either side of my head, though his body hovered over mine, at no place did we touch. He still could not, and I knew to mock him for it, for the way he scuttled to angle for my mouth, that I would be abandoned for another set of years to decay in this hell.

Warning and threats black as sin, burned hot in his unforgiving eyes.

If I were left in this padded cell for even one more day, I truly would go mad. “You’ll save me from the examinations, from the pinching fingers? They strap me down and I cannot get away... They spin me around until I vomit. All the water is ice.” Sickness was twisting in my gut, there was buzzing, my muscles tensing to the point I tremored. “Please, make it stop!”

The Hatter’s head cocked and he seemed for a moment transfixed. “Say the word, Alice. Give yourself to me.”

Nodding, frantic to be out of the confines of the straightjacket, out of the blaring light of that room, out of the asylum, I swore to him, “I’m yours. Take me.”

With a smile blooming from the deepest parts of his evil heart, the Hatter sealed our deal. “My pleasure.”

His hands were on my shoulders, my relief palpable when he helped me to sit up. But he was not angling for the straps at my back. With force, I was twisted, my belly slamming into the ground. Yanked back until my knees parted, my legs crooked like a frog, he lay full upon my prone figure. The skirt of my hospital gown no longer brushed my thighs, and I was as bare as I had been on the table day in and day out.

And then I was on fire.

The Hatter’s long-fingered grip encased my skull, pressing my face down into the padded floor. There was no way to breathe. Lungs screaming for air, I forgot the pain between my legs, how my thighs cramped from the force of his hips on my joints.

Parts of him were inside my belly, his jerking on my back frantic.

I don’t know what came over me, or why I fought to turn my head. I wanted his mouth back on mine. I wanted to taste the grit and the dirt, feel his serpent’s tongue.

As I’d once been accused of by Sir Rothfield, I was rubbing against things. I was rubbing against the Hatter, begging into the floor for something I couldn’t understand.

Long dirty fingers crept between the padded ground and my nest of curls. A touch came to the place orderly Calvin had fingered daily. Above the hole I was stretched full, the Hatter smeared slippery friction in exacting precision. I felt my insides clench, growing tighter, a twisting of snakes wriggling where he thrust over and over.

His grunts crept inside my ears. “I’ll cut the orderly’s fingers off, Alice. I’ll let you watch me devour his soul. The doctor can be made into your newest toy. Do what you will with him. Inflict the pain he deserves.”

I shuddered, I screamed, and where he toyed with me, I felt wicked and alive.

At the feel of body’s release, he strained, bucked, and threw back his head, shouting in tongues.

I lay beneath him, heart racing, crammed completely full.

“You were delicious,” he sighed, tasting the shell of my ear when my body gave out and vision blurred into nothingness. “What games we will play. What degradations you will adore me for.”



Come morning I was found sprawled on my back, my legs spread wide, tied parted to the rings in the floor. Blood and fluids matted my pubic hair. Pupils pinpoint, I was oblivious to all that went on around, but I grasped flashes of Sir Rothfield, and I saw alarm when he was summoned to look upon me.

He barked at the orderly who’d opened my cell. “Who has done this?”

“One of the inmates escaped the men’s ward. He bashed Calvin’s fingers with the gate until they split from his hand. The bastard stole his keys.”

“She could be with child. Don’t you know who her parents are?” Sir Rothfield’s anger was not for my state, but for his potential complications. “We would be ruined should her belly grow.”

I felt nothing. There was no shame that the world might see me splayed and oozing. No ice bath was called for to calm hysteria. There was no hysteria. And when I was deemed full awake, there was no talk of a white rabbit, or forced pelvic massage... Nothing was said at all.