ALICE IN TICKLELAND
by: [email protected]
DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
It was a lazy spring afternoon as Alice sat beneath the tree with her
books; the very same tree she sat beneath all those summers ago with her
sister, when she was younger and had much less common sense than she had
now. And when she had Dinah, her cat and only friend.
Dinah was dead now, and Alice remained friendless from that time on, as
she progressed through middle school on into the college studies she now
pursued.
A light breeze fluttered the pages of her book on library sciences. She
tried vainly to flatten them out, but the wind persisted, mussing her
hair. She closed the book in frustration, giving up until the wind died
down. She made a useless attempt at straightening her long blonde
tresses, when she smelled the scent of spring wildflowers.
A smell is a funny thing--it can bring back memories from long ago,
memories you've forgotten to remember. This particular memory was of
that long-ago day when she had silly dreams of white rabbits and baby
pigs and little men dressed as playing cards. She shook her head at how
silly she had been. Now that she was all of nineteen, she was far too
serious for such nonsense. Her studies were the most important thing to
her, taking precedence over any kind of social life, which was fine by
her.
Another gust of wind picked up, blowing open her book and carrying away
her loose-leaf note.
"Drat!" she exclaimed, and hurried after them across the meadow. She ran
as fast as she could to chase them, but they always seemed to stay just
beyond her reach. Then, just as she almost had one of them in her grasp,
the ground gave way beneath her and she screamed.
It was an inordinately large hole, and she couldn't imagine how she could
have not seen it. She was certain she was going to die as she continued
falling down the interminable tunnel, when she noticed a particularly odd
thing: she wasn't wearing the prim and proper attire she had been wearing
a few minutes earlier, but rather the blue pinafore dress and white
stockings like those she had worn as a child--which looked particularly
foolish, as they were enlargened to fit her more mature nineteen year old
body. She only noticed this because the skirt had blown open like a
parachute, slowing her fall to a float.
As she fell, she felt something brush against her and she shrieked. She
regained her composure (what composure a person could have when they were
falling, she thought) when she realized what had brushed against her was
only the root of some tree. She felt more and more of them, and realized
the tunnel was getting narrower, closing in about her.
Her fall was abruptly stopped for a second as her blue skirt got snagged
all around by these roots, and she hung suspended in the air. Alas, it
was not a permanent stop, as gravity tugged at her body, and soon she
found herself falling through the dress as it was raised up over her
head, revealing her white stocking and the white camisole slip she would
wear when she was a child. For a while, she was held up by her
upstretched arms and her head, and greatly feared she might hang herself,
when she felt more tree roots against her exposed body. She heard a rip,
and then began falling again. Looking up, she could see her blue dress
hanging from a higher root like a little blue tattered flag.
Her descent was still a slow one, and the roots, which were now rubbing
her all over, and even snagging and lifting her camisole a bit.
"How very, heh, undignified," she said with a bit of a giggle. She
realized the roots were beginning to tickle a little bit as she fell past
them.
No, not falling, she realized. The tunnel walls were now completely
covered with roots which reached out and not only rubbed, but grabbed at
her. The were very soft and covered with a light fuzzy covering. But they
were very strong as well, and they had begun *passing* her downward, much
like a football quarterback might get passed by his teammates after a
victory.
"Oh, please do stop," she exclaimed. "That, hee-hee, that tickles me."
The roots almost seemed to be encouraged by this bit of information,
although Alice realized that was absurd. Nonetheless, it certainly seemd
as thought the roots acted with intelligence as they tugged at her shiny
black shoes until they came off, and pulled and ripped at her camisole
until it came apart in shreds, exposing her firm round breasts, nipples
hard and pink with embarassment. She tried to bring her arms down to
cover herself, but the tunnel was too narrow, and the were now stuck high
over her head.
The roots now increased their tickling, which in turn increased Alice's
giggling. She was as giddy as the little girl she used to be, as each
fuzzy tendril which wasn't busy gripping her and passing her along slowly
traced paths from the bottom of her feet, around all sides of her legs,
across her belly, all over the small of her back, about her breasts, and
poked into the wells of her armpits.
"Sto-ha-haahap," she cried, "no mo-hohohore, plea-heeheeessse!" But the
roots were unrelenting in their tickling, and Alice's laughing was only
broken by the occassional "Yipe" as a curious root goosed her behind, or
an embarrassing moan of pleasure as another various root sometimes rubbed
slowly circles around her crotch area. So she was passed down the tunnel:
"No, haha, plee-heeze, sto-ha OH! No, don't do-hoo -oooh mmmmmm Heeeee
Hee Hee Hahaha OH MY! Hahahahhee hee Mmmmm Hmmmmm Ohhh..<heh heh>
Hmmmmmmmm..." Until such time as the tickling and waves of pleasure were
too much for her, and she experienced a warm tingly feeling she had never
felt before, right before she passed out.
When she awoke, she was at the apparent bottom of the hole. She lay on
her back, and could see the roots reaching for her, mere inches above her
prone body. She tried to stand, but as soon as she did, the roots began
tickling against her, and she quickly recoiled back down to the ground in
a horizontal position. She realized she had been completely stripped down
to just her stockings which were held up with garters. Her cotton panties
had obviously become ripped apart whilst she had been oblivious to all
else but the tickling as she fell.
She rolled over onto her stomach and looked about. A tunnel lay before
her, with roots dangling from the ceiling. But it looked like a little
door was at the end of the tunnel, and she thought that if she scooted on
her belly, she might just be able to fit through the tunnel and maybe
escape out the door. She began her trek, and although it was only less
than a hundred yards, it felt as though it were miles. For every time she
scooted, her buttocks raised up just enough for the roots on the ceiling
to tickle her cheeks (and sometimes, she realized with exclamation, her
anus!). Still, despite the tickle torture of her bottom, she managed to
make her way to the door and open it. Wriggling as best she could, she
made her way out the door headfirst, and found herself standing in the
sunlight, in a garden of extraordinarily large flower blossoms.
2 B Continued...
Continue
by: [email protected]
DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
It was a lazy spring afternoon as Alice sat beneath the tree with her
books; the very same tree she sat beneath all those summers ago with her
sister, when she was younger and had much less common sense than she had
now. And when she had Dinah, her cat and only friend.
Dinah was dead now, and Alice remained friendless from that time on, as
she progressed through middle school on into the college studies she now
pursued.
A light breeze fluttered the pages of her book on library sciences. She
tried vainly to flatten them out, but the wind persisted, mussing her
hair. She closed the book in frustration, giving up until the wind died
down. She made a useless attempt at straightening her long blonde
tresses, when she smelled the scent of spring wildflowers.
A smell is a funny thing--it can bring back memories from long ago,
memories you've forgotten to remember. This particular memory was of
that long-ago day when she had silly dreams of white rabbits and baby
pigs and little men dressed as playing cards. She shook her head at how
silly she had been. Now that she was all of nineteen, she was far too
serious for such nonsense. Her studies were the most important thing to
her, taking precedence over any kind of social life, which was fine by
her.
Another gust of wind picked up, blowing open her book and carrying away
her loose-leaf note.
"Drat!" she exclaimed, and hurried after them across the meadow. She ran
as fast as she could to chase them, but they always seemed to stay just
beyond her reach. Then, just as she almost had one of them in her grasp,
the ground gave way beneath her and she screamed.
It was an inordinately large hole, and she couldn't imagine how she could
have not seen it. She was certain she was going to die as she continued
falling down the interminable tunnel, when she noticed a particularly odd
thing: she wasn't wearing the prim and proper attire she had been wearing
a few minutes earlier, but rather the blue pinafore dress and white
stockings like those she had worn as a child--which looked particularly
foolish, as they were enlargened to fit her more mature nineteen year old
body. She only noticed this because the skirt had blown open like a
parachute, slowing her fall to a float.
As she fell, she felt something brush against her and she shrieked. She
regained her composure (what composure a person could have when they were
falling, she thought) when she realized what had brushed against her was
only the root of some tree. She felt more and more of them, and realized
the tunnel was getting narrower, closing in about her.
Her fall was abruptly stopped for a second as her blue skirt got snagged
all around by these roots, and she hung suspended in the air. Alas, it
was not a permanent stop, as gravity tugged at her body, and soon she
found herself falling through the dress as it was raised up over her
head, revealing her white stocking and the white camisole slip she would
wear when she was a child. For a while, she was held up by her
upstretched arms and her head, and greatly feared she might hang herself,
when she felt more tree roots against her exposed body. She heard a rip,
and then began falling again. Looking up, she could see her blue dress
hanging from a higher root like a little blue tattered flag.
Her descent was still a slow one, and the roots, which were now rubbing
her all over, and even snagging and lifting her camisole a bit.
"How very, heh, undignified," she said with a bit of a giggle. She
realized the roots were beginning to tickle a little bit as she fell past
them.
No, not falling, she realized. The tunnel walls were now completely
covered with roots which reached out and not only rubbed, but grabbed at
her. The were very soft and covered with a light fuzzy covering. But they
were very strong as well, and they had begun *passing* her downward, much
like a football quarterback might get passed by his teammates after a
victory.
"Oh, please do stop," she exclaimed. "That, hee-hee, that tickles me."
The roots almost seemed to be encouraged by this bit of information,
although Alice realized that was absurd. Nonetheless, it certainly seemd
as thought the roots acted with intelligence as they tugged at her shiny
black shoes until they came off, and pulled and ripped at her camisole
until it came apart in shreds, exposing her firm round breasts, nipples
hard and pink with embarassment. She tried to bring her arms down to
cover herself, but the tunnel was too narrow, and the were now stuck high
over her head.
The roots now increased their tickling, which in turn increased Alice's
giggling. She was as giddy as the little girl she used to be, as each
fuzzy tendril which wasn't busy gripping her and passing her along slowly
traced paths from the bottom of her feet, around all sides of her legs,
across her belly, all over the small of her back, about her breasts, and
poked into the wells of her armpits.
"Sto-ha-haahap," she cried, "no mo-hohohore, plea-heeheeessse!" But the
roots were unrelenting in their tickling, and Alice's laughing was only
broken by the occassional "Yipe" as a curious root goosed her behind, or
an embarrassing moan of pleasure as another various root sometimes rubbed
slowly circles around her crotch area. So she was passed down the tunnel:
"No, haha, plee-heeze, sto-ha OH! No, don't do-hoo -oooh mmmmmm Heeeee
Hee Hee Hahaha OH MY! Hahahahhee hee Mmmmm Hmmmmm Ohhh..<heh heh>
Hmmmmmmmm..." Until such time as the tickling and waves of pleasure were
too much for her, and she experienced a warm tingly feeling she had never
felt before, right before she passed out.
When she awoke, she was at the apparent bottom of the hole. She lay on
her back, and could see the roots reaching for her, mere inches above her
prone body. She tried to stand, but as soon as she did, the roots began
tickling against her, and she quickly recoiled back down to the ground in
a horizontal position. She realized she had been completely stripped down
to just her stockings which were held up with garters. Her cotton panties
had obviously become ripped apart whilst she had been oblivious to all
else but the tickling as she fell.
She rolled over onto her stomach and looked about. A tunnel lay before
her, with roots dangling from the ceiling. But it looked like a little
door was at the end of the tunnel, and she thought that if she scooted on
her belly, she might just be able to fit through the tunnel and maybe
escape out the door. She began her trek, and although it was only less
than a hundred yards, it felt as though it were miles. For every time she
scooted, her buttocks raised up just enough for the roots on the ceiling
to tickle her cheeks (and sometimes, she realized with exclamation, her
anus!). Still, despite the tickle torture of her bottom, she managed to
make her way to the door and open it. Wriggling as best she could, she
made her way out the door headfirst, and found herself standing in the
sunlight, in a garden of extraordinarily large flower blossoms.
2 B Continued...
Continue
