Alice in Thunderland

'I could remain still in the stocks against birch rods,' she almost screamed out, 'but I am driven wild by a feather?'

The feather continued its course up her body, and fingers now took their place on her clit. They rubbed and twirled and slid while the feather itself slowly danced across her breasts and tickled the very edges and then the tips of her nipples. Nothing else touched her body anywhere. Only the feather and the fingers, but that was enough.

That was more than enough. She could hear her voice growing louder and more shrill as her cries became almost continuous grunts which changed only in pitch as she drew in or exhaled her forceful breath.

"You wanted someone to control you," he said. The feather swirled around a nipple. "I control you." The feather and the fingers continued their dance. "You cannot find release unless I tell you that you may. You will cum when I command and not before. ... Do you understand that, Alice?"

"Yes," she panted. "I understand, master." She grunted and groaned before adding, "But I need to cum so badly now. Please let me cum. Please!"

His only answer was a laugh. "I could take away my fingers... or the feather... and leave you to smolder here on the cross."

"No!" she screamed. "No. Please master, do not do that." She was crying as she begged, "No. Take me higher... let me feel more... ... and let me cum!"

Again he laughed. "I will take you higher, and you will feel even more, but you will not cum until I order you to do so."

The feather began moving slightly faster as did the fingers. Alice could feel the passion welling within her. Her head was throwing from side to side. She was pulling against the wrist restraints with all her might. She could feel her hips pushing against his hand and her legs attempting to lower herself down onto his fingers. She heard her voice chanting, "Please, please, please, please, please," almost as if it were speaking on its own. She was losing control of her body and her mind.

"Please, master," she screamed, "let me cum!"

Laughter, again, was his only response. That and increased pressure with his fingers and increased speed with the feather. Then suddenly the hand was gone. So was the feather. Alice strained against the restraints trying to bring her body back into contact with either one.

The feather touched her once again. This time on the very top of her forehead. "When the feather reaches your clit, you may cum," he said in a soft but very stern voice.

The feather moved slowly- very slowly- down her body. It brushed down the center of her nose. She moaned as it crossed her lips. She moaned again as it passed down between her breasts. The moan became almost continuous as the feather swirled slightly in her navel. Her breathing was coming faster and faster. The feather continued its slow journey downward. It was almost there. Why was it taking so long?

"Now!" he said as the tip of the feather finally touched the center of her passion and she exploded. She could hear herself screaming. She could feel herself thrashing against the wood of the cross. But it was as if she were not in her own body. She was there, but she was not. She was a bystander... a witness, and yet somehow still a participant in the overwhelming feelings which tore through her.

Alice had no idea how long she was senseless. Perhaps if she had more experience with losing control of her mind and body she might have been able to make a guess, but this was her first time. It could have been a moment... it could have been a day. She was hanging limp against the cross. Her body was sticky with sweat. She could smell not only the sweat, but the aroma of her own sex.

He stood in front of her. She smiled weakly at him and tried to speak. It came out as "mmmmmmmmmm"... almost a purr. 'I sound like my cat,' she thought to herself.

"There are many other things which can be done on the cross," he said, "but I want you to experience a taste of each of my favorite devices today and we have only so much time."

He released her arms and then her legs and led her over to the punishment bench. He had to support her as she walked the few steps to where she knelt on the pad. The lowest pad was just high enough so that her toes did not touch the floor, and just long enough so that with the top of her feet against the edge of the pad, her knees were aligned so that she was able to properly bend over the higher pad.

She lay her shoulders on the smaller separate pad. Her breasts hung down between that pad and the pad for her stomach. He placed her arms against the supports for the shoulder pad and began strapping her in place.

The straps were designed to hold her firmly in place without totally immobilizing her. Leather straps held her wrists and elbows firmly to the front supports. Additional straps held her ankles and knees to the lower pad. There were no straps on the rest of her body. This meant that she was free to writhe and squirm under the paddle or lash, but would be unable to move to avoid it.

"We will begin with a simple hand spanking," he said quietly. "... just to warm you up."

He then began spanking her with slow, steady spanks that moved from the top of her ass to just below where the ass cheeks began blending into the leg muscle. The blows alternated left and right so that her ass took on a uniform red glow. After every fourth of fifth swat, he would reach up with his other hand and stroke her still wet slit, sliding his fingers easily into her and twisting them slightly.

'Am I feeling pleasure or pain?' she asked herself. Then she told herself firmly, 'Don't think, just be. Let it happen. Let the sensations overwhelm your body and mind.' As she did so, she noted that the pain and pleasure were beginning to merge and form a painful pleasure, or perhaps a pleasurable pain. Which was it?

'No, don't think, experience,' she told herself once again.

"I think you are moving around a little too much," he said. "I think you need some incentive to remain still."

Alice could see out of the corner of her eye that he went over to a small cupboard on the wall and took out something silver. As he walked back toward her, she could see that he was holding something in each hand. It looked like one of those pull chains that you sometimes find on a ceiling light, except that it was bright silver and the large knob on the end was also metal.

"These aren't too uncomfortable as long as they are hanging still," he said. Then he showed her the clip on the end of the chain. He squeezed the clip to open it and reached under the pad which was supporting her shoulders. She gasped as she felt the clip close on her left nipple. She gasped again as the other clamp closed on her right nipple. The pressure of the clip was uncomfortable, but bearable.

"As long as you keep still, they will not swing," he said. "But if you move around too much..." he reached under and tapped one of the metal weights with his finger setting it in motion. Alice gasped again, this time in obvious pain.

"We will resume with a paddle," he said calmly. "And you will count the strokes. There will be twenty-five," he explained, "and then I will give you pleasure to balance out the pain."

He walked behind her. She could not see him, nor hear him as he stood still behind her. Then there was a slight swishing noise and a very loud splat as the leather paddle slammed into her ass.

"Aieee!" she screamed. Her body had also unconsciously jumped and the nipple weights were swinging wildly.

"Was that 'One, Master,' that I heard?" he asked.

"One, Master," she replied, trying to hold very still so that the painful pulling at her nipples would end.

There was another swish followed by the loud splat followed by pain that radiated from her asscheeks throughout her body. This time she merely grunted and gasped in a short breath. Then she said, "Two, Master."

There was another swish, another splat, another burst of pain. Again she grunted and gasped. "Three, Master."

'This isn't fair' she thought to herself. 'I can either prepare myself for the blow or work to keep myself totally still. I can't do both.'

From somewhere deep in her mind her own voice- but not her own voice- said, 'Then do neither. Let your body go. Let your mind go. Accept the pain. Experience the pain. Go into the pain. ... Let the pain overwhelm you.'

When the next blow landed, her back arched and she nearly rose off of the padding which supported her stomach. A loud scream escaped her lips, but it was followed almost immediately by, "Four, Master."

And so it went. Swish, splat, scream, count. Swish, splat, scream, count. Swish, splat, scream, count. As the count passed eleven, Alice noticed that there was something different about the pain. At sixteen, she noted that her screams were now closer to moans and gasps. At twenty she realized that she was rocking her hips so that her ass rose to meet the paddle and so that the weights on her nipples were swinging in wide arcs beneath her.

And then it was over. She lay sweaty and panting against the leather of the punishment bench. Someone was moaning, "More. More. Don't stop. Don't stop! I'm almost there."

It wasn't until he said, "Do not worry, Alice. I will give you what you need," that she realized that it was she who was saying those words.

A soft hand caressed her flaming ass. Fingers slipped between her legs and made one teasing pass through her dripping slit. "One final thing for you to experience on this bench," he said softly as he continued to stroke her asscheeks. "I am going to give you three strokes with the cane. They will hurt. Mmmmmm, they will hurt, but on the third stroke of the cane, all of the pain that you have received will suddenly turn to pleasure. That third stroke of the cane will be pain and pleasure working together to overwhelm your body, mind, and spirit."

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Alice wanted to scream, "NO!!" but instead she just clamped her mouth shut and said "mmmm" as she nodded her head up and down.

The first stroke was immediate and Alice screamed louder than she had ever before screamed in her life. The second stroke soon followed and the scream turned hoarse and frantic. Then there was a pause. Alice's ass was literally on fire. She could feel the two stripes which burned deep across her already inflamed asscheeks. There was a swish, a snap, an explosion of pain, and then Alice's world disintegrated.

It was as if her mind and body had shattered. Somehow the pain had become pleasure that tore through her as the most powerful orgasm she could imagine. As she pulled against the straps and bucked and writhed on the pads, she vaguely felt him release the nipple clamps and then felt the straps on her ankles and wrists being removed.

She was floating in a cloud of pain and pleasure as he helped her to her feet and guided her across the room. By the time clarity had returned to her mind, her feet were firmly locked within the padded foot stock of the rack and her hands were above her head in the long wrist restraints.

She could hear a light clicking noise. He was standing alongside the rack slowly turning a large iron wheel. "The true terror of the rack," he said in a voice that sounded very much like the guide at the Tower of London. "... is not the pain, but the helplessness and the feeling of inevitability."

"You start off at the very beginning already trapped in the mechanism. That itself is fearful enough. But as the ropes or chains grow tighter, you can no longer even struggle. Your body reaches its limits but you know that the final outcome is inevitable. You know that you will be taken beyond your limits... and there is nothing you can do about it."

He stroked Alice's cheek and looked into her eyes. "When you reach that point," he said, "I am going to make love to you." He smiled and stroked her abdomen. Then he patted her tummy and said, "But it will not be inevitable."

He pointed to a lever on the side of the rack. "That is the lock mechanism for the tension wheel. When I set that lock, we have reached that point."

He ran his fingers across her breast and lightly tweaked her nipple. "But when I set that lock, you are released. Your escape phrase will once again work. At that point, you can leave, or you can experience the finish of our little game."

He turned the wheel so that there were a series of small clicks. Alice's arms were now held tightly above her head. She could feel the leather padded stock pulling strongly on her feet. He stroked her now tight abdomen with two of his fingers and said, "You think that you have reached your limit, don't you?"

Alice stared back at him but remained silent. The fingers slid downward across her stomach until they reached her pubic bone. He raised his hand as it continued its downward path and then brought it back upward between her legs, slowly pulling those two fingers through her slit.

She gasped slightly as he then slid them into her and pushed gently, once... twice... three times before pulling them almost out and continuing upward over her clit, pausing to press lightly and then continuing until he was once more moving across her quivering abdomen.

"But it isn't that simple, is it?" he asked as his fingers circled her navel. "You think you have reached your limit, but then your body adjusts and establishes a new limit." His other hand moved on the tension wheel and there was a quiet "click" as it moved forward another notch.

Alice felt the slight additional tension. She also felt his fingers begin moving back down on her abdomen. The path was identical. The fingers raised off her body as they reached her pubic bone and then made contact once again as they began moving upward. This time it was a moan that came from Alice as the fingers pushed into her once... twice... three times and then a light pressure on her clit before she heard the "click" and felt the very slight increase in tension.

He looked deeply into her eyes as his fingers again retraced their path around her navel and back down. Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

Alice could feel her hips thrusting up to meet his hand. She felt like she was a string on a violin, being pulled tighter and tighter while the musician strummed the bow listening for the proper tone.

Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

Her moans were becoming more high-pitched. Her hips were starting to strain against the tension as they thrust and pushed against his fingers.

Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

Alice wasn't sure how many times he had turned the wheel. She knew that she was now keening a continuous high wail of passion. And yet it continued.

Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

It was to the point where all that she could move was her head, which she thrashed wildly from side to side.

Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

"You are now very close," he said softly. Did he mean that she was reaching the true limit to which she could be stretched, or that she was approaching orgasm?

Perhaps he meant both.

Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

"When you reach that final limit, you will be released."

Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

Alice thought that she could stand no more. Her body was now tighter than a violin's E string.

Once... twice... three times... light pressure. "Click."

He moved so that he was now above her. He lowered himself down so that his member was nestled against her opening. "Click."

That click was followed almost immediately by a deeper "Clunk." The lock had been dropped into place.

"You are released," he said softly.

With that sound and those words, Alice felt her passion explode within her. In the microsecond of time before the orgasm began to overwhelm her mind there was an instant of clarity. Time and space seemed to disappear. She was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Her mind screamed out to her, 'I am released!' Her spirit rejoiced, 'I am free! I am truly free!!'

She now knew what freedom meant. It did not mean crying out her release phrase. It meant going beyond her limits. Going beyond the limits by not resisting those limits.

The orgasm tore through her body. She thrust upward against him, pulling him into herself. Her body was able to respond, not because the chains had slackened, but because she was no longer holding herself back. Her passion went beyond anything that she had ever before felt... also for the same reason. She was no longer holding herself back. She was released.

Alice felt him erupt within her. He looked down into her eyes. She could see herself reflected in his huge, black pupils. He stroked her face and smiled at her and said, "You are truly beautiful... and you are truly free."

Then he was gone.

The foot stocks had opened. The wrist restraints lay alongside her arms on the slanted wood of the rack. As she lay there breathing deeply and trying to make sense of what had just happened, she heard the soft pop of the panel / door opening.

The young man stepped into the room. Alice stood from the rack and faced him. "You have finished the game, Alice." he said. "I hope that you have enjoyed Thunderworld. Remember, your release phrase is, 'Delete me; delete me; delete me.'" And then he was gone, leaving Alice standing naked next to the rack.

***

A uniformed messenger hurried into General Hunnington's office in the fourth sub-basement beneath the visible portion of the Pentagon. There was a black metal briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. The secretary said, "He's waiting, Colonel Morton " and the courier rushed into the inner office.

"We have another one," the messenger said quietly as he entered the room.

"Rank? ... Nationality? ... Name?" the general said brusquely.

"Civilian; American; Alice Lutwidge, replied the messenger. "She is the prodigy who invented the Lutwidge battery. Details are in the package."

He held up the briefcase and General Hunnington inserted a special thumbdrive into a port on its side. He then entered a seven digit number and the case popped open.

"Anything that isn't in the written report?" the general asked.

"Same gray helmet," the colonel answered. "It was apparently delivered to her house by an unknown delivery service. She's alive but no brain activity. The body is being transported to the special ward at Walter Reed. We don't know if she will recover like some of the others or if we are looking at long-term life support like General Adams, Admiral Siraku, and Commodore Markowski."

"I assume all that is in the report," snapped the general. "What isn't in there that might be important?"

"I don't know if it is important," the messenger replied, "but she was naked except for the helmet when she was found and her body seems to be in a high state of sexual arousal. The doctors can't explain it..." he laughed nervously, "... but that's not surprising since they aren't even sure how or why she is still alive."

The general snapped the now empty case closed and said curtly, "Dismissed."

***

A soft chime indicated that someone wished to enter Star Commander Roundoff's quarters. He huffed his irritation at being interrupted while reviewing the departure procedures. Their four- year probe mission had been very successful despite the early problems. It should be possible for the next ship to initiate successful contact.

He had hoped to be part of the first contact with this planet. In fact, he had been in command of the first contact attempt twelve years earlier while he was still a Captain. Unfortunately they had badly underestimated how warlike and paranoid the inhabitants of the blue world actually were. The three-member contact team had been killed almost as soon as they landed by fearful civilians who did not understand that they were not a threat.