ALICE DOES NOT LIVE HERE ANYMORE

BY CHRISTOPHER TOILKIEN

Alice Feathersham arrived at Heathrow airport alone in a strange land.

She had spent the first twelve years of her pampered life in an exclusive Newhampshire walled community. Her parents were of British and American ancestry granting her dual citizenship. Death in her mothers family had lead to the inheritance of the family holding corporation and all the responsibilities and privileges of the British aristocracy. Her parents had sent her ahead, just after grade eight graduation to enable her to both acclimatize physically and socially before she attends a very exclusive private school in the fall.

The plane was an hour early doe to tailwind and scheduling mix-ups. She had been told someone would meet her at arrival. The stewardesses had pampered her on the flight and left her safely in the VIP lounge upon arrival. It was dark outside, but she would be safe there. But Alice was a very adventurous little female and soon wandered out, as her namesake was wont to.

At any given time just about any race colour or creed can be found passing through, hanging out or working at British London’s Heathrow airport. And some actually have a legal right to be there. Some pick pockets, some steal luggage some swindle and some search for lost little girls.

Two smartly dressed “Scouts” soon spotted the richly dressed little girl with long blond hair as she tried to buy a drink with US money. Leonard, the older, and a consummate sadist, in his mind already pictured the nude young female hanging in his “Entertainment “ chamber. Her sweating body criss crossed with the marks of his whips and frightfully awaiting his rape. Mathew, younger and always left with the remains of Leonard’s work, hopped she was strong enough to be conscious when he acquired her for his even more perverse pleasures.

“May we help you?” the said, already counting up the profits from the sale of this little pre-teen, after they were finished with her.

“Well, I have just arrived and was only trying to buy a V8” she replied.

The two boys paid for the juice and a bag of “Crisps”. Then with one on either side, lead the little girl off to a quiet corner.

You are American, aren’t you? How is it you are traveling alone? Is someone supposed to meet you? You look sixteen, how old are you? What is your name and were are you going? Let us help you?

All these questions as they gradually lead the girl further away from the more populated areas of the concourse towards the parking garage and they’re waiting van. Once inside she would disappear forever.

Just as there stood in front of the elevators waiting to ascend to the Garage, the doors opened and a large bustling lady stepped out, brushed them aside and whisked the girl away. Leonard was holding Alice’s elbow, but quickly let go when the tip of the newcomer’s brolly pricked him in the arm as she swept by.

“Alice? I am Teresa, the housekeeper. Sorry I am late to pick you up, but traffic on the number one was dreadful. Those two, touts did not have your best interests on their minds. Alice looked back at the two dumfounded, disappointed boys as she was swept up into the protective envelope of this physically imposing elder female. Leonard was rubbing his arm and Mathew his hip.

{Days later, they were discovered dead in their van were it was parked in the airport garage.}

Teresa soon discovered were Alice’s baggage’s and other belonging were. A porter appeared with all her baggage and within minutes she was sitting beside Teresa in a chaffer driven vintage Rolls Royce speeding north towards her new home. Alice was sound asleep in Teresa’s arms and missed her first sight of the imposing edifice that was Tenagal Manor.

Alice woke with Teresa gently shaking her. “Wake up little one, we are here” Alice, half asleep tumbled out of the huge car to find a set of wide stone steps leading up to a huge iron bound wooden door set in a very imposing stone wall. Two casemate windows flanking it were full of small iron trimmed glass, ablaze with light. As she approached a maid, dressed as if directly out of a Dickens novel swept open the door.

“ Welcome to Tenegal Manor, Mistress Alice” she said bowing.

Inside Alice had to blink twice to believe the tremendous size of the dark wood paneled entrance hall with an imposing staircase leading to a wide balcony. Bright lights abounded and the iron chandelier hanging by a huge chain from the ceiling three stories up was larger than the Rolls outside. Knight’s armor in the centers of each sidewall, was surrounded by a circle of weapons. Mediaeval banners hung from flagpoles at the balcony level.

“Yes I know, a rather showy lot, but people do expect it in a Manor house this old. Don’t worry ducky, the living quarters and bedrooms are as modern as you will find anywhere. Speaking of which, we may as well get you installed in the “Princess’s Room”. She led the drowsy Alice up the main stair, along the balcony; past innumerable doors until they came to another large iron bound door. By this time Alice was just about asleep on her feet

“This is the original part of the Manor” Teresa said as she directed Alice through. They entered another balcony, this one at the end of an even larger medieval banquet hall, looking more like the inside of a great stone church. At the other end another iron bound door led to a tightly right turning stone stairway. At the small landing at the top another iron bound door. But at this door, Alice balked. Her sleepiness swept away by the primeval fear of imprisonment beyond this yet another dungeon like door.

From a deep pocket Teresa produced a large key and unlocked the great iron bound door to reveal a white walled circular room over thirty feet across. Slipping her arm under that of her growing reluctant charge, she literally swept her off her feet and into the center of the room.

Alice slowly revolved in place taking in her new room. It certainly was a room fit for a medieval Princess.

The white plaster walls were painted with unicorns, Knights on rearing caparisoned chargers slaying dragons and fantasy castles on impossibly high cliffs. Narrow windows set in niches deep enough to have velvet covered seats on either side of them. A dark wooden amour was set along one wall beside a solid wooden table with two padded high-backed chairs. But a huge dark wooden four poster bed complete with light blue canopy dominated the room. Soft deep pile rugs covered the inlay wooden floor and bright white sheepskins lay either side the bed. A flat topped chest; big enough for a coffin was along the other wall.

But how far is the wash room? Alice asked.

Don’t worry Lady Alice, the modern facilities are in here. Terisa indicated a four foot wide by eight foot high plate glass mirror, with odd looking six inch plain wooden trim set in the white plastered wall, about three feet to the left of the entrance door. She pushed against the right edge and the mirror-hidden wooden door swung into the room exposing a fully modern tiled bathroom complete with corner shower stall, sink, toilet, and washbasin. “The entire manor is fully modernized, but often hidden as this one is”

Suddenly feeling very tired; Alice wandered over to the bed with the turned down covers.

“In you go lass, the sheets are fresh and you can sleep as long as you like. Terisa clapped her hands and the light grew dim, again and all illumination, except a dim glow from the three-quarters moon striking the mirror was dark. She softly closed the door and Alice drifted off to sleep.

The sweet song of a bird outside her window woke her, and she looked about her new room.

Sunlight streamed through the narrow windows as she rolled out of bed still fully dressed. Someone had brought up all her luggage while she slept and Alice decided to try out the modern washroom. Stripping as she approached the mirrored door Alice characteristically left a trail of discarded clothes. Reaching the curious mirror door, she stopped to examine herself.

Looking back was a classic All-American little pre-teen female rushing irresistibly towards femininity. Just under five feet tall, long straight blond hair, long thin limbs, flat stomach, slightly protruding bone structure, but already carrying a pair of breasts a sixteen year old cheerleader would have proudly shown off. When they started to sprout as she turned eleven, her mother remarked.

“It looks as if you have inherited my mothers breasts Alice. They were 40+ by the time she was eighteen. The boys will be sniffing after you soon enough”

And they certainly have Alice smiled to herself.

Mother had insisted she learn to ride a horse and packed her off to a riding school almost before she could walk. Then years of hard work to be accepted into Mistress Seymour's very prestigious dressage and show jumping school. She had earned two Olympic medals while on England’s show jumping team. The regime she insisted on was rigorous, students were expected to wash and comb their horse, as well as clean and maintain its harness before and after riding.

One hot afternoon Alice was rubbing down, Knight-Ridder, her black stallion. They were the only ones around, and the horse barn was steaming. She decided to strip off right down to her bra and panties. Many commented on her seemingly instinctive relationship with her horse, but Alice only smiled in response, if they only new.

As Alice brushed the front of his head, he nuzzled between her swelling breasts, and then licked them, pushing up her bra, exposing them. His strong tong licked the sweat of her breasts and moved down her fluttering stomach towards her sweat soaked panties. A soft moan escaped Alice’s sweat glistened lips as his muzzle forced its way between her legs. Her hands instinctively reached out to grip his rigid ears. As on the first day she rubbed him down scantily clad, Alice responded by spreading them wide. His hot breath added to her heat as his tong probed upward. Rotating up her hips in response Alice was again well on her way to an orgasm.

“AAAAAAAH” Alice jumped almost out of her skin as a riding crop smashed into her tight rear, again and again. She could not escape the blows, stuck between the unmovable horse and the flailing crop.

“Pain is a companion of pleasure, Alice. One has to endure the first in order to earn the later” It was Mistress Seymour. She grabbed the frightened little creature in front of her and dragged her into the next enclosed stall. Their fastening her wrists to a chest high capture ring she bent the protesting pupil over and proceeded to deliver ten more swats with the riding crop. She the reached down and turning the girls tear filled eyes toward her, said.

“ He is just after the salt in your sweat Alice. But you seem to appreciate his probing. It is a bonding technique I only teach to my most promising female students. You seemed to have learned it on your own. How long have you been allowing him to lick you off?”

“For the last two years, Mistress” Alice sobbed.

“ I cannot have you doing that in case the male students catch you as I did. The older boys would be well within their rights to take more than you are prepared to be separated from yet. Your virginity”

Alice looked up at her riding instructor, pleadingly.

“I will do anything you ask to stay in the school, even give up Knight-Riders tonguing. Or even freely give my self to the boys”

“ Never give yourself freely little Alice. Make every male, who uses your body for his own pleasure pay somehow, someway, for it. It is always yours alone”

“But I accept your subservience. I will keep you on, but you must move in here with me as my protégéé. I will make the announcement to your parents tonight. Finish off Knight-Rider, get dressed and be off home with you’ She released Alice, kissed her on both cheeks and gently swatted her on that very sore posterior.

That was the start of Alice’s very prominent horse jumping career. Alice, riding Knight-Rider won local, then regional, county then state competitions. Professional coaches began to attend her competitions and complemented Mistress Seymour on her prize pupil. And boys, both fellow competitors and classmates began paying close attention to her as well.

But Alice had no time for anything but school or riding. She rode two hours every day under Mistress Seymour private tutelage after regular classes. And when not riding or cleaning her horse and his harness, she worked cleaning the house and anything else she asked. But Mistress Seymour taught her everything she knew about horses, riding, breeding and raising them. How to trick, coerce or train them to perform as and when desired. But these classes were held with Alice nude and Mistress Seymour applying the switch mercilessly.

After failing to convince a new colt to wear a bridle. Mistress Seymour strung her up by the wrists, toes reaching for the ground, in the horse barn and delivered a stinging switching with a riding crop. Alice screamed, pleaded, and even begged for forgiveness to no avail. Then, still nude, covered in sweat and with her thin body crisscrossed with whip marks she was lead by a leash attached to a collar around her neck. Back in the large riding barn she found the frisky colt still there. With Mistress Seymour standing on the sideline she finally convinced it to wear a bridle and be lead around the ring, and handed over to Mistress Seymour.

“You had the knowledge and the training. All you needed was incentive. I will provide that, every time you do not live up to my expectations Alice. That is how my Master trained me, I will train you, and in time you will train another”

Alice was then released from the collar and allowed to bathe. After which Mistress Seymour rubbed soothing liniment all over her trembling body. Then dressed in a warm wooly bathrobe she sat down to a nutritious filling meal cooked by Mistress Seymour as if nothing had ever happened. And, as usual retired to her bed of straw and blankets in the stall beside Knight-Rider’s.

But this spring her world changed. When her parents announced the impending move to England, Alice revolted. She refused to consider going, or even communicate with her parents. But after she accepted the trophy for winning the eastern states championship, Mistress Seymour announced she would have no problem being taken on by one of England’s finest coaches. She had already spoken to the Captain of the English team. And as he was retiring this year to take up a prestigious position running England’s most famous horse raising establishment, willing to take her on.

“He is a very strict teacher, and many of the current team are his students. But he has a weakness you can exploit. He has a passion for little girls and leather. Here is your first leather and a card signed by me that will grant you access to a very private London leather shop” She held out a tiny piece of leather that barley covered the leather business card it sat on. Alice held up the little leather bit.

“It is a leather thong,” Mistress Seymour said. When we get home, I will show you how to wear it. Keep the card private, and no one must know when you go there”

At home after she washed down Knight-Rider first, she emerged from the shower wrapped in her thick bathrobe. Mistress Seymour was standing in the living room and had just added the new trophy to the shelf nearly full of them. Alice reached into her bathrobe pocket and withdrew the thong, discarding the robe as she approached her mistress.

Mistress Seymour took the thong and kneeling down slid it up her protegee’s thin legs settling in place around her thin hips, the tiny patch barely covered her hairless slit. Alice wiggled her little hips as the thin leather strip settled between the cheeks of her firm young rear, running up to her crotch. Checking herself in a nearby mirror, Alice noted for the first time a curious symbol branded on the little leather patch.

“ What does that mean?” Alice asked.

“It is the symbol of my Master” her mistress said, but would not elaborate. They then had their last meal together as Teacher and pupil. Her mistress attempting to add a little festivities to the occasion by popping the cork on a bottle of French Champaign, But Alice was inconsolable. And when in the middle of the night, Mistress Seymour felt her protegee’ slipping into her bed, tears running down her sobbing face, cuddled her close.