ALICE PRYDE

BY XAINIA

[ part 1 ]

Pussy by the fireplace a-licking of her toes, When out flew a sparklet and nipped pussy's nose.

"Ouch!" yelped pussy. "That wasn't very fair!"

"So," Mrs. Kilowsky said, "You shouldn't be sitting there!"

Alice Pryde had the strangest feeling about the place, even though she had been there several times before. Everyone knew that Mrs. Kilowsky was an extremely old woman. If Alice had waited until she answered the doorbell, she would be waiting until her next, her fifteenth, birthday. Mrs. Kilowsky would just sit in her rocking chair and let the world come to her. The feeling persisted as she walked through the dark hall and turned the great brass handle of the living room door.

It was as natural a scene as a cat purring on the hearth rug before a blazing log fire or lapping milk from a saucer. The blazing log fire was there and the cat, even the saucer of milk. But the cat was not on the hearthrug, nor was it lapping the milk. Instead the beast sat on a studio couch as big as any double bed the girl had ever seen. The cat was proportionately sized, huge and gross, hairy and fat. It fastened its eyes on Alice Pryde the moment she prised open the heavy oaken door. There was a draught excluder along the bottom of the door and it scraped the carpet with a hissing sound as Alice pushed. Alice loved cats. She set her basket on the thickly carpeted floor and made immediately for this one and stroked it, but, instead of purring as cats should do, this animal created a resonating base drumming sound deep in its chest. It reminded Alice of the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland and she wondered if it was in any way related to the famous fictitious feline. She giggled. The cats were as unlikely to be related as she was to her more famous namesake.

"You have just spilled the cat's milk!"

Alice jerked round at the sound of the gruff voice from the other side of the room. It was not Mrs. Kilowsky's voice. Then she stared at her feet. She had indeed upset the saucer. "Oh! I'm sorry!" she exclaimed. "Really sorry!" But the mess on the carpet did not behave like spilt milk. It did not soak into the carpet like milk. Instead it lay there like a white quivering jelly. There was still a little bit sticking to the saucer and the rest spilling over like a piece of plastic on the carpet. Alice remembered something like it in a Salvador Dali painting they had studied in art class at school.

"Little girls who make a mess..." The most handsome man Alice had ever seen emerged from the shadows. He had been sitting at a table in a kind of alcove in one corner of the vast room. He stood beside the little girl almost before Alice realised he had moved. He studied the strange spillage. ".have to be punished!" He laid a hand on her slender shoulder. "Is that not so?" She gazed up at him and her heart missed several beats. She nodded. The man sat on the couch. Alice stood facing him. He stroked the side of her face and brushed her hair back from her forehead. He let his eyes drift up and down. His hands moved to her shoulders. He massaged briefly, then with the back of one hand he brushed up and down over the distinct swellings on her chest until the nipples stuck out and were evident through the cotton sweater. The sensation flooding her body was bewildering.

"The problem is." The big man seemed to go into a trance of deep thought. It was ages before he completed the sentence. ".how to punish such a pretty little girl!" He placed both his hands on her hips. He kneaded the flesh and pressed home to the bone. "Perhaps a mild spanking would be sufficient, don' t you agree?" He shifted his gaze from the activity of his hands and her groin to her face. Alice nodded. Then suddenly he pushed her gently away and stood. "What are you doing here anyway?" He stooped down and swept the spilt milk back into the saucer, and again it seemed more like a pliable bit of plastic than liquid.

"Please, sir," said Alice, "where is Mrs. Kilowsky?"

The man smiled. "Mrs. Kilowsky doesn't live here any more, Alice! I have been her for nearly three months. I have not seen Mrs. Kilowsky for even longer." The smile seemed to evaporate. He appraised the girl with searching eyes which provided Alice with an odd mixture of emotions. "That does not explain why you are here!"

"Please, sir! I am selling ginger cookies to help pay for the dialysis machine in the county hospital. I am in the girl scouts."

The man interrupted her sharply. "Girl scouts? I thought girl scouts wore those short skirts and smart shirts with neckties! Why are you wearing these horrible jeans and a dirty sweater? Little girls should wear pretty things, short frocks or shorter skirts. Pretty little girls should always make themselves pretty."

Alice stuttered. "I..I.I..didn't...th..th..think it mattered." Alice always stuttered when she was excited or afraid, and she couldn't make up her mind which it was - whether she was excited by this handsome stranger, or afraid of him. "Mrs. Kilowsky didn't mind and she often bought our ginger cookies." The man laid his hands on her shoulder again and looked into her eyes. "Go home," he said. "I can't spank a little girl when she is wearing jeans.

Change all your clothes - even these horrible checked knickers. Put on something pretty, a nice frock, a short skirt, a clean blouse and a sexy pair of panties, the nice white ones with the blue and pink lace edging and the little love bow in front. I can spank you in those. And if you are exceptionally good, I shall buy all your ginger cookies." He smiled softly and Alice's heart melted. He led her to the main door of the house and closed it silently as soon as she was outside.

"Now, that is strange," thought Alice to herself as she walked homewards. "How did he know I was wearing checked knickers?" She looked down at herself to make sure that there was nothing showing that ought not to show. "And how did he know about the white panties with the lace edging and the love bow?" She stopped and asked herself aloud, "How did he know my name?" It was strange indeed, and she was just a little bit afraid.

It did not prevent her from returning to the house, however. She was wearing the shortest frock she possessed. She had not worn it for nearly a year. The hemline was a good twenty centimetres above her knees. She was also wearing her white, lace-edged panties and a cape that came down to her waist and tied with a ribbon at her neck. She did not go straight into the house this time, but rang the doorbell and stood on the step until the big man appeared. He smiled, and again Alice felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"That is much, much better," complimented the man as he took her hand and led to the room where she had first seen him. The huge cat was still there, but this time it was sitting on the hearth beside the huge fire of blazing logs and was cleaning itself with a thick paw and making the odd drumming sound. The man held her at arm's length to admire her clothing. "That is how little girls ought to dress to please their men friends." He caught himself as if he had spoken out of place. "Can I hope that you regard me as a man friend?" He smiled as Alice nodded. He undid the ties of her cape and draped the garment carefully over a massive armchair. He sat down and turned her around. "And now for your spanking. But first I must secure your wrists and your ankles." He wound a cord around the lower parts of her arms and legs. "And you must tell me if it is too tight or if anything I do to you hurts in any way. Do you understand?" Alice Pryde twisted her head round and nodded. "Now, I want you to attempt to wriggle free, and if you succeed in escaping I shall buy all your ginger cookies for the next ten years." He chuckled. "Or anything else you have to sell!"

Alice struggled against the bonds, but the more she twisted the tighter they became. The man laughed. He lifted her and laid her face down across his thighs as easily as Alice used to lift and lay her dolls. He pulled the skirt of her dress away from her backside. The panties were semitransparent. The man hummed his pleasure. He kneaded the firm flesh gently. Alice felt a strange warmth being generated in her most secret places. She felt the waistband of her panties being pulled and the delicate garment being drawn down to her knees. The massaging started again. The warmth in her groin was beginning to kindle a flame inside her.

"You have a lovely soft skin." The voice above her seemed to be a million miles away. "There is nothing purer or finer in this whole world than the skin of a little girl's bottom." And with that he administered the first slap. It tingled, but it did not hurt much. Then there was a long pause. He rubbed gently. And another smack almost as soon as the tingling from the first one had dissipated. And another long pause. And another smack, but this time he had put his free hand around and under her and was massaging the cleft of her vulva.

"You have earned yourself a sale." He leaned over and spoke softly into her ear. "I shall purchase all the cookies in your basket." He gave her another smack. It was slightly heavier handed this time. His probing finger rolled her enlarging clitoris and sought and found the opening to her tunnel of love. She was already soft and extremely moist. "If you consider yourself punished enough, I shall stop now." Another smack. "Do you understand what I am saying, Alice?"

Alice Pryde found it difficult to reply. "Yes!" She gasped for breath. The fire was raging within her. She felt herself jerking in the strangest way; she had never experienced anything like it.

"Do you think you have been punished enough?"

"No!" Alice considered her reply too eager, but when she tried to moderate it, all she could say was, "No, please sir! I think I should be smacked just a little more."

The man laughed. He stopped spanking. The spanking hand he thrust between her legs from behind and the other hand he slipped down the neck of her dress, tearing off a button in the process, to mould her breast. The rhythmic groping worked its magic. She felt a fountain, a fresh mountain spring, gushing within her. Then a volcanic eruption. And her whole body was shuddering and throbbing and she started to jerk as if in the throes of an epileptic fit. And then she found herself completely overwhelmed by an orgasm so intense and violent that she believed she would die from its effects. Her wetness flooded down on his exploring fingers. The spasm continued for several minutes.

The man turned her over and cradled her in his arm for a long, long time. Time had ceased to exist, at least, it ceased to be of any real importance. She was limp and breathless, and the perspiration ran from her face and soaked her clothing. She had achieved orgasms before, when she and her girlfriends played their games in the meadows around the township, or when one of the older boys was feeling her up when he was supposed to be baby-sitting her younger brother, or when the gymnastic coach at school gave her special tuition. But never before had she experienced anything of such spine-splitting, nerve-tingling, muscle-tearing ferocity. She gazed up at the man and knew that she would be his slave for ever. He could command anything, and she would have to obey!

He stood her upright in front of him. The heat from the log fire was fierce against her back. She really believed that her legs were about to give way under her. The man crouched forward and undid the knots of her bonds with less effort that he would have untied his shoe laces.

"Pull up your panties, Alice!" he ordered. "And smooth down your dress both front and back. He observed her carefully as she did as she was told. He pulled her close to stand between his outspread thighs. "Do you agree that your punishment was just and fair?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes sir!"

He kissed her mouth and let his hands trace the hourglass shape of her chest, waist and hips. "Next time, Alice." He broke off again as if he were contemplating the next time. "The next time you come to see me, I want you to bathe first." He smiled an apology. "Little girls should be clean all over." He thrust a hand under her skirt and between her legs. "Especially here!" He rubbed. "Will you do that for me?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir!"

"You have to clean enough to kiss!"

"Yes, sir!" Her hips were beginning to jerk again with his rubbing.

"Now how much are your cookies?"

"A quarter each," she replied.

"And how many did you have in your basket?"

She thought about it. She had started off with forty five in the early morning and had sold fifteen to her nearest neighbors and another twelve to the people who lived in the main thoroughfare through the village.

"Thirteen!" she said.

"Thirteen is an unlucky number!" He pulled a twenty dollar bill from his pocket book. "That should cover it!" He pressed the note into her hand. "Can you come again tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir!" She would most certainly come again! Tomorrow!"