Although Alice found it very uncomfortable to be chained to the rafter, not to mention the draft blowing through the room, she also found it quite boring. At first, she wiled away her time attempting to conceive a clever plan of escape, only to discover she wasn’t nearly as clever as she had hoped. Then, she tried to bide her time thinking of more pleasant things. Being buggered by the Hatter, for instance. Or by being ravished by the Chessman. Or delightfully tormented by Yum and Yee. Or spanked by Captain Honeyglass. Or…

She let out a sigh. “Oh, I wish that I was anywhere but here right now. But, as they say, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Though I have seen some impossible things since arriving here, so perhaps if I wished hard enough!”

So she began to wish. She started out small, testing the waters, and simply wish that her manacles were unlocked. When that didn’t work, she began wishing for someone to come rescue her, thinking that perhaps wishes need to be bigger to work. When that didn’t work either, she began to wish she was back home in her father’s study, reading a book that had nothing to do with adventures or danger or romance. Something boring. Perhaps a historical novel by a stuff old dowager with absolutely no sex, swordplay, or witty banter.

While she didn’t find herself suddenly transported away, she did find herself growing bored at the thought and began to nod off which, in a way, fulfilled her wish, for as she closed her eyes she did find herself elsewhere, lost in her dreams.

“Or perhaps I was lost in my dreams and now I am awake,” she mused, squinting her eyes against the harsh light emanating from a single uncovered bulb upon the ceiling above.

“Oh, here again,” she sighed disappointedly. For indeed, that is exactly where she was. Here or, more succinctly, in a small cell in the medical asylum, neatly tucked away in less than pristine straight jacket, leaving her with very little to do but lie upon her uncomfortable cot and stare at the ceiling and the flickering blub.

“This is not at all how I remember Father’s study but at least it’s elsewhere. Maybe I just need to wish harder.”

And so she did. For a very long time, or at least until she was interrupted by a pair of familiar voices; those of Mister Hart and Mister Hammer who were noisily unlocking the door.

“Our favorite, Mister Hart.”

“Very much so, Mister Hammer. Very much so. If Doctor Paine wasn’t so impatient to see her we might have a bit of fun.”

“More than a bit. Perhaps if we’re quick about it.”

“Quite quick. Quick as a candle wick.”

“And quiet. Quiet as a cracker.”

Alice felt her cheeks burning. Worse, she felt herself growing wet at the idea of the rather large orderlies having a little bit of fun with her.

“But Doctor Paine-“

“Doesn’t need to know. I certainly won’t tell her, Mister Hart.”

“But the little tart might, Mister Hammer. She might indeed.”

“She might what?”

“Sing like a canary.”

They both paused to stare down at Alice, who suddenly felt very small and vulnerable and perhaps a little frightened.

“You wouldn’t rat us out now, would you?”

“That wouldn’t be very nice.”

“Not nice at all.”

“And we all know what happens to girls who ain’t nice, don’t we, Mister Hammer.”

“Do we, Mister Hart?”

“Oh, yes, we do. Bad things, Mister Hammer.”

“Terrible things.”

“Unspeakable things.”

Alice lay there, her arms strapped securely, trembling as she tried to wake herself from what was quickly become a nightmare.

‘Oh, if only Cheshire was here right now,' she thought to herself. ‘But he’s not and there’s only me. What would he say, though? He’d tell me I’d lost my muchness, wouldn’t he? And that I’d need to find it again. Or perhaps he’d tell me this was all a dream and that I simply needed to wake up. Oh, if only I could do both! But why can’t I? That Alice might not be able to, but This Alice certainly can!'

And so she did. Find her muchness as well as wake from her dream – or perhaps she simply went back to sleep and found a different dream, one in which Mister Hammer and Mister Hart weren’t standing over her and leering. A much gentler dream in which she sat in her Father’s study in front of his chessboard, across from a very familiar opponent.

“Alice?” she stammered.

“Quite,” she replied. “Surprised?”

“Quite.”

Indeed, it was her seated opposite, only not her.

“You’re me.”

“More concisely, you’re me.”

“That is quite impossible.”

“And it’s not even breakfast.”

“I suppose it isn’t although I hope it’s close. I am suddenly famished.”

“Close enough. Care for a game?”

Alice gathered up the kings from the board, closing her dainty fists about each, and held them out. Without even thinking, Alice chose the left, not a little surprised when she unfolded her fingers to reveal the white king. She took the ivory piece from Alice’s hand, a strange thrill shimmering through her as their fingers brushed, and place it on the appropriate square.

“Your move,” the other Alice told her.

Alice stared across the board, barely aware as her own pieces slowly turned from white to crimson. The other Alice regarded her shrewdly. Although they looked identical, there was something very dissimilar lodged behind her clear blue eyes. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced over her shoulder, into the large oval mirror that sat directly behind, studying her from behind. Again, they were identical, both dressed in matching blue frocks trimmed with white lace, Both with silky ribbons decorating wheat coloured hair. Both with straight backs and perfect posture.

“Very curious,” she mumbled, moving her king’s pawn forward two spaces.

She watched herself move her queen’s pawn forward, then swiftly moved her king’s knight, falling into a steady rhythm, each move anticipated and matched.

‘It’s as if she knows my own mind,’ she thought to herself, so evenly matched were they. ‘But of course, she does! She is, after all, me. Perhaps the only way to beat her is to do something I would never do. But then, she may be thinking the same thing. Such a conundrum.’

And so the game played on, neither Alice able to get the upper hand, until one of them did exactly what Alice had considered earlier. Something unexpected. As Alice took a pawn with her rook, Alice reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her across the table, upsetting the board, pieces flying in all directions.

“What are,” Alice gasped, unable to finish her thought as Alice kissed her. Not a friendly peck on the cheek, but a kiss full of passion, one worthy of the steamiest novel she had ever read. Understandably, she responded in kind and soon they were stretched across the table fumbling at each other passionately as long lost lovers reunited.

Eventually, the table became too small to contain them so they retired to the floor, writhing around on the rug, buttons popping.

“I don’t know what has come over me,” Alice moaned, lust clouding her thoughts.

“Nor do I, but I have more sense than to question it.”

Not another word was said, although many salacious sounds did fill the room as Alice and Alice did things that would make a French whore blush until they ended pressed together, their faces buried between each other’s thighs, tongue licking and lapping at the copious amount of cream pouring forth from glistening pink pussies.

“Yes!” screamed Alice as her tight slit was penetrated with a hardened tongue.

“Yes!” cried Alice as her clenching cunt was impaled likewise.

“Yes!” they both cried together as waves of ecstasy crashed through them, leaving them gasping like fish and reeking of sex as they collapsed in each other's embrace, heads resting against each other's pussy, cum dripping from their lips.

“That was-“

“-nice,”: Alice murmured as she slurped creamy cum from her cunt.

“I was going to say something much more-“

“-enthusiastic?”

“I believe so.”

“Terribly amazing, then.”

“Very much so.”

“I should depart,” Alice sighed, a hint of resignation in her voice. “I have… matters to attend to.”

“Pressing matters?”

“Very."

Alice helped Alice stand, embracing her tenderly and tilting her chin up so that she could deliver a gentle kiss.

“I’m sorry,” she told herself softly, Brushing her hair from her face, her blue eyes seeming haunted for a brief moment.

“Whatever for?” She wondered out loud.

“For everything that has yet to happen. You’re going to wake up in a moment.” Something was pressed into her hand. Something made of metal. Looking down she saw a golden key. “Remember, not everyone is who, or how, or what they seem. Especially in Wonderland.”

“I will,” she muttered as her eyes fluttered open, her arms stretched toward the rafter, held by chains.

“What a strange dream,” she murmured groggily, her thoughts still thick with sleep. “And yet it felt so real. And if it was only a dream, why is that I am holding a key?”

For indeed, her fingers were closed around what could only be a key.

“I don’t suppose it fits these cuffs. And even if it did, I would need my hands free in order to use it. Oh, what a useless thing to bring back from a dream within a dream. Dash and bother, why couldn’t I have dreamed of something helpful!”

Frustrated, she decided that the only proper thing to do was have a good cry, and so she did. And that was precisely what she was doing when the knave burst suddenly into the room, his eyes wild, his uniform disheveled, and his drawn blade dripping with blood. He advanced towards her, his stance menacing, and drew back his blade.

Alice, helpless to do anything else, cowered, her eyes shut tight.

“Oh, to have all my adventures end thusly,” she sobbed, waiting for the blow that would end her life, one which, surprisingly never came. Instead, she heard the sharp sound of steel upon steel. A moment later, she collapsed upon the bed, her arms miraculously freed.

She heard a great shout from beyond the door as she was gathered up as if she weighed no more than a bag of feather and was thrown unceremoniously over her rescuer’s shoulder.

“I have desired you for myself ever since I set eyes on you. Forgive me for delivering you to the Queen for she has gone mad. Now, hold on tight if you wish to see another sunrise!”

Hastily deciding that she did, indeed, wish to see another sunrise, Alice clung to the Knave, gripping his torn jacket with all her strength. A good thing too, since the doorway was now blocked, leaving only one other route from the tower room. The window.

She let out a cry and closed her eyes tightly as the glass shattered and he let out a great shout and leapt from the window. Together, they fell. And fell and fell and fell. In fact, they fell for so long that she soon became curious as to why they had not yet hit the ground. Eventually, her curiosity overcame her fear and she opened one eye, just enough to see what was happening, surprised to discover that they were falling as a feather falls. Slow and gentle and, at the rate they were going, had she needles and yarn, she might have time to knit a tea cosey. Perhaps two.

Having neither needles nor yarn, she decided to pass the time with polite conversation instead.

“I wonder how it is it that we haven’t plummeted to our demise?” she asked demurely, attempting to retain a sense of dignity, despite being in a state of complete undress.

“Never you mind,” was his brusque reply. So brusque, in fact, that she refrained from asking any more questions until, finally, he had both feet upon solid grown and had set her down as well.

“Thank goodness, the lawn is soft, for this was all been very trying and I would like to lie down for a moment. Or perhaps two,” she announced. A moment later, she swooned, collapsing to the lush green grass, unaware of the events which continued to transpire around her.