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The Appeal Of Alice

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My own take on the adventures of Alice.

Alice in trouble!

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The notice on the door of the balcony of her hired apartment was very clear.

“Nudity is prohibited in Zanzibar! Penalties are severe! First offence: 100 lashes of a rhino hide whip, administered in public in the square outside the Grand Mosque, plus six months of hard labour in the salt mines. There has never been a second offence.”

Alice, like so many tourists, considered it a joke. So much so, in fact, that she took a nude selfie and posted it on Cruxforums, together with a report on her holiday in Zanzibar.

She was dozing on the balcony, dreaming happily about the night she had spent with the muscular beach boy she had met, when the door burst open and she was surrounded by men in white robes. They were all shouting at once, and although she couldn’t understand the language, she knew she was in trouble!

“Please, let me put some clothes on!” She begged as they dragged her down the stairs. “Why, whore of an unbeliever?” The man in the red headdress shouted in her face. “You want to flaunt your godless body! You can flaunt it in the square as the whip flays your skin, and you can flaunt it for the next half a year in the salt mines. Perhaps at the end of that time you will have learned some modesty!”

As they hustled her out into the street, she managed to break away. She ran! The coral paving cut into her feet, she could hear the men close behind her, panting, but desperation lent wings to her feet. The narrow alleys twisted and turned, she had lost all sense of direction, she ran, desperately!

Suddenly the alley opened into a large square. She could see the sea. She ducked around a huge fig tree, then skidded to a halt! Ahead of her was large, gold domed building. A crowd of white robed men waited in front of it. Many others, men and women, stood around the edges. In the centre of the square was a tall pole. Next to it, a superbly muscled man, stripped to the waist, stood, smiling broadly. Coiled in his hand was an evil looking whip.

Sobbing, panting, Alice stopped. There was no escape!

Render by Julie and Melissa.


Another variation on the theme of Alice.

Alice in the Grand Bazaar.

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“For once, just for fucking once, the fucking guide books didn’t exaggerate!”

Alice had looked forward to her stay in Istanbul. The history, the romance, the architecture, all had appealed to her. She had explored the historic monuments, Hagia Sofia, the Blue Mosque, so many of them. She had walked the streets and the alleys, wondering at the architecture, the bustle of this huge, incredibly ancient city that straddled two continents. She had particularly enjoyed the Grand Bazaar, that centuries old emporium that attracted almost a hundred million people a year.

“The Grand Bazaar was started in the 1460’s as a cloth market. It has grown ever since, until it is now possible to buy almost anything there. A wonderful place for the visitor to explore. A place that will transport them to fantasy land of clothing, handicrafts and almost anything the heart could desire.”

“Fucking guidebook,” Alice thought, as she sat on the hard floor, her legs spread wide, the taste of a stranger’s cum filling her mouth. “And now it’s me that is for sale! Me! Anything the fucking heart desires, indeed!”

TRY BEFORE YOU BUY! The sign above her head said in half a dozen different languages.

“How much is it for a blowjob?” She heard an American voice ask the woman who ran the stall. “One hundred lira, sir, twenty US Dollar,” the old bitch replied.

“You’re being ripped off,” Alice said to herself. She had always been good at numbers. “It’s more like thirteen or fourteen.” She thought.

“Can I come on her face, lady?”

“Of course.”

Alice heard the rustle of money. There was no point in resisting. She opened her mouth and looked into this hick tourist’s eyes, hoping to shame him. No such luck!

At least he was quick! Quick but very productive. Her face, her hair, her eyes were covered in thick, gooey cum. She lifted her hands to wipe her face. “Hayir!” The old woman’s voice was sharp. With a sigh Alice dropped her hands, blinked eyes free of the slimy stuff. She knew what that meant. “No!”

How could she have been so stupid? It had all seemed so innocent, a simple, ancient game, played by the Byzantines. The shopkeeper had offered to show her how to play. “We bet, play money, just to make it interesting.” Only after she had lost telephone numbers did he demand payment, in real money! Arguing was useless, there were suddenly ten male witnesses to support the shopkeeper. The police had come, attracted by her shouts, only to confirm that she was legally in debt to the tune of tens of millions of lira. The shopkeeper ‘grudgingly’ accepted that he would have to settle for whatever assets she had. Some clothes, a nice camera, and her tight little body.

So here she was, chained to a stall in the Grand Bazaar, giving cheap blowjobs, cheap fucks, and waiting for somebody to offer and acceptable amount for the ownership of her body.

“Fucking Istanbul! Fucking guidebooks!” She thought. “All in all, I’m fucked!”

Renders by Julie and Melissa.


Staff member
Now that Alice has fulfilled her task I think it's a brilliant idea to continue with her adventures.
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