against her inner walls, a little tongue darting around in there.
“Like a banana?” the cat asked.
The legs and tongue receded but there still was no feeling of a finger inside of her. Alice felt a firm, cold curve fill her, as though her finger turned into a banana. She whimpered and felt herself becoming moist.
“Like a vibrating banana?”
The thing buzzed inside her, now, drilling and whirring her wet. Alice gasped. What was happening to her?
The cat continued. “Like a fist? Like a flute? Like a bat? Like a bottle? Like your finger?”
Shapes and textures stuffed and wiggled and stretched Alice’s insides. Heat spread across her body and her juices dribbled down her thighs. After flashes of incredible changes filled inside of her, her pussy finally relaxed around her finger again. She pulled out her hand from under her dress and looked at the glistening finger. It looked normal.
“Do you get it now?” the cat asked. “Any cliche, simile, or metaphor becomes true around here. That has its disadvantages of course, but it also has its beautiful advantages.”
Alice thought about it a moment, as her body calmed down. She could change anything at will, anytime she liked.
“So you could have stopped him,” the cat said for the third time.
“Who?”
“The duke.”
“But I did stop him! I banged on the door to stop him!”
“But he’ll be back later. And when he finds out his boys are gone, who do you think he’ll blame?”
Alice felt her lungs stiffen shut.
The cat continued. “You could have turned him into a mouse if you wanted to. Then he couldn’t do anything more to the cook.”
She could have stopped the duke. But she didn’t know about the crazy rules of this land with all the powers of cliches and metaphors. Or did she? She saw the way the villagers started the campfire with ice. And Caterpillar had said his cum tasted like peppermint to make it true. She should have figured it out. She could have stopped the duke. “I’ve put the cook in danger,” she said in a whisper.
“No you didn’t,” the cat said.
“What?”
“The cook isn’t in any danger. She realized the babies were gone, packed her things, and left the duke’s cottage.”
“Then why did you say he’d hurt the cook?”
“I said no such thing. I’m just making a point.”
Alice waited. “Which is…?” Alice coaxed.
“Everything in the past seems easier with hindsight. That’s why I travel backwards in time.”
“Wait, what? What do you mean you travel backwards in time?”
The cat smiled wider. “Since I know what happens in hindsight, I’ve decided to move from place to place further into my past. That way I know just what to do and when to do it. I don’t see why everyone else doesn’t do that.”
Curiouser and curiouser! Could it be true? Alice decided to test the cat’s claim by asking a question the cat could answer with his unique time-traveling knowledge.
“Which way do I go?” Alice asked. “To the Hare or to the Hatter? And which way is the better way?”
“Beats me,” the cat said. “I only know what happens in your past. Even though I came from your future and perhaps even was with you in your future, I don’t remember it. I only remember the past, the next place I’ll be going.”
Alice sighed. “A lot of good you are.”
“But I will say this. The Hatter is quite mad.”
“Oh!” Alice said. “Good! So I’ll go see the Hare.”
“Enjoy!” The cat said and vanished. Literally vanished. Like a magic trick. It was quite extraordinary how the cat could disappear like that.
Alice looked at her moist finger again. It chilled in the air. Could it really be that simple? To find out what a cock feels like? To finally get that elusive orgasm? “My finger is like a thick penis,” she said.
Her finger transformed and grew into a large, hefty shaft of flesh. The perfect cock.
Alice pulled up her skirt and pressed the head against her folds, stroking herself. The cock felt hot, real. This was truly it. This was what Jack truly felt like.
A voice said, “What happened to the duke’s babies?”
Alice withdrew her hand with its floppy cock-finger and hid it behind her back.
It was the cat. He was back in the tree from out of nowhere.
“What?” she said.
“What happened to the duke’s babies?”
“They turned into piglets.”
“Ah! Very good,” the cat said and disappeared again.
Alice sighed with relief. Put the cock back between her thighs, imagined it was that moment. That first moment when Jack cried out her name, told her he loved her.
“Did you say ‘Chick Lit’?”
Alice rushed her hand behind her back again. Damn that cat! “What?”
“Did you say they turned into ‘Chick Lit’?”
“No, I said ‘piglets.’ “
“Ah!” The cat said. “Well that’s okay, then.”
“I wish you wouldn’t appear and disappear so suddenly,” Alice said. “It’s very…disruptive.”
“Precisely,” the cat smiled. “Goodbye, then.”
The Cheshire cat slowly disappeared with just his grin left floating in the air until that, too, faded away.
Alice looked at her hand, the wobbly cock sticking up. “It’s like my finger,” Alice said. She soon had her regular hand back. I better try climaxing later, when I’m certain to not be interrupted, Alice decided and trampled down the path to the Hare.
Chapter 16
Alice took the path toward the Hare. After a few minutes of walking through a quiet forest, she arrived at an enormous house that must have belonged to the Hare for the path ended there. In front of the house was a long table decorated with china teacups, teapots, teakettles, and teaspoons. Two men sat with a sleeping woman between them. One of the men had a Roman nose and big jaw, wore an orange shirt and green vest, and an enormous top hat. Clearly, the Hatter. His orange shirt sported a picture of a teapot on it. Ridiculous. Shirts with tea illustrations on them. Alice decided such tea-shirts would never stay in fashion long.
The other man was, well, yum. The signs must have made a spelling error. The sign should have read 'Bare.' This other man was naked, muscle-clad, and covered with hair. The woman had a beautiful flow of blonde hair draped over her shoulders. She, too, was naked. She slept leaning back in her chair.
As Alice approached, she could hear their discussion more clearly.
“Some more tea?” the Hatter asked the Hare.
“Yes, please.”
The Hatter poured, but as far as Alice could tell, nothing came out of the spout.
“Milk?” the Hatter asked.
“Yes, please,” the Hare replied.
The Hatter placed the empty teacup directly under the woman’s breast and tweaked her nipple. The woman giggled in her sleep and her nipple hardened. But no milk had come from it.
Alice did a quick check and squeezed her own nipple. No milk.
