Alice In Chains Read Online Free PDF Page B

here, if you’ve said a thing, that fixes it and you must live with the consequences.’ As she spoke she reached out and plucked a single golden hair from Alice’s head and deftly tied it about the figurine. ‘And now the bond, forged in pain and pleasure, freely asserted, is sealed with a token. This is you and as I control it, so I control you.’
    Alice sprang to her feet. The Queen had not said she should rise, but she knew without words it was what she desired. She stood ready, expectant, eager and utterly helpless to resist. The Queen’s will was now her will. Her body and mind were now her tools. This was not slavery but almost total assimilation. A tiny insignificant part of her knew what was happening but could do nothing to prevent it.
    ‘A little test,’ the Queen said.
    Like a robot, Alice marched out of the tent with the Queen behind her and began running round and round the small clearing just inside the circle of the statues. Knees lifting high, breasts bouncing, she made her circuits while the Queen watched in approval.
    Suddenly Alice veered off into the trees. There was a large tangle of brambles in front of her and, screwing her eyes shut, she threw herself into it, shrieking as the thorns pricked and cut and tore her skin. Rolling out the other side of the bush she scrambled to her feet and ran on, heedless of the stinging pain and raw red scrapes and blotches and the dozen broken thorns now lodged in her burning flesh.
    Alice ran back into the camp and round the statues until she stopped before one depicting a warrior armed with a shield and mace. The carving was perfect in every detail, even down to the weave of the man’s tunic and his eyelashes. He was crouching on one knee with his shield raised protectively, perhaps warding off a blow about to fall on him. His mace was held outwards as though frozen in mid swing.
    Unhesitatingly Alice bent down and began licking the head of the mace, which was a large ball studded with small pyramidal spikes. That uncontrolled part of her shivered in anticipation, but it made no difference to her actions. Standing up she clawed apart her outer labia with her fingers and ground the soft pink inner flesh now exposed against the stone mace head. The studs jabbed her flesh, tormented her clitoris into renewed erection and scraped and teased the mouth of her vaginal passage. Whimpering with pain she clasped the shaft of the mace and rotated her hips, oscillating the slippery folds of her nether mouth about the spiked ball as though passionately kissing it.
    This cruelly enforced masturbation rekindled her slavish capacity for sex, even though she had only spent herself so recently. The pain gradually melted into mounting lust and fiercer rubbing against the mace head despite, or perhaps because of, the pain. Is this my doing or hers? she wondered desperately. Then she cried out and convulsed, soaking the mace with orgasmic discharge.
    Only then did she feel the Queen’s will leave her and slumped like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
    ‘Most satisfactory,’ the Queen said. ‘I think this proves my control is total. There is a stream over there. You may wash yourself and then return. If you attempt to run away I shall know it instantly through the sceptre. While you are close by you are under my absolute power at all times, do you understand?’
    ‘Yes, Mistress,’ Alice said weakly.
    Alice sat in the stream washing off her scratches and picking thorns from her body. None had caused any serious damage and she knew the minor wounds would heal quickly enough, but her mind was still disturbed. She had never known such a sense of utter helplessness. Many times others had wielded complete control over her body physically and she had relished the sensation of being forced and broken through carefully applied pain and pleasure, of being dominated and finally submitting to their will. But it was her choice to do so, while this was mechanical joyless obedience. And