Alice - Shadows of Perdition

Alice - Shadows of Perdition
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ISBN:  9781907753428
Author:  Surreal
Word Count:  65,569
Format:  eBook

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Harris picked up the mid-sized cane and bent it between his fists. 'All I saw was you making off with my money, and for that you will suffer the consequences. Take off your skirt.'
   Wanting nothing more than to get the ordeal over as quickly as possible, Alice obediently unfastened the button at her trim waist and let the skirt fall to her feet, Harris intent on her every move.
   'Now place your legs together and bend forward,' he went on.
   Alice reached down for her toes and waited, stomach churning with nerves, breathing difficult.
  'So far so good,' drooled the fiend. He flexed the rod, chest out. 'You will receive twelve with this cane.'

The trials of Alice continue in Shadows of Perdition. Having escaped the clutches of the overbearing and pious Uncle Richard, Alice settled with the Howells, and although welcomed and cosseted, her feelings toward Jonathan cannot be suppressed. For all the attacks on her conscience she again attempts a seduction, reasoning the woman might succeed where the callow girl failed.

Oblivious of her sexual magnetism, it transpires that Jonathan is not the only one with designs upon her delectable seat and beguiling figure. In an effort to deliver Katy from the wily and incorrigible Harris, she entraps herself, discovering his arm to be one to avoid.

Seeking the results from Carters, she meets again with the unpredictable Richard, and nothing would have prepared her for the bitter reception, or for the awful secret he harbours.

This powerful mix of tenderness, sado-masochism, passion and austerity will take you into a candid and plausible world of the provocative...

She didn't hear her uncle climbing the stairs.
   She failed to notice the bedroom door opening.
   The first she knew of Richard's presence was when he hissed, incredulous. 'What the devil do you think you are doing?!'
   Alice scrambled from the bed, her indecent hand rapidly withdrawn. She caught sight of the cane and backed to the window.
   Richard pointed the threatening implement at her. 'You just can't help yourself, can you?' he hissed. 'Your whole damnable world revolves around smut. You know it's a sin! You know the Catholic tenet. What the hell is the matter with you?'
   Alice shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks. 'I don't know, uncle,' she pleaded. 'I don't know. I just don't know!'
  'I've said it before and I will say it again,' he went on without compassion. 'You, young lady, are out of control. You have no shame. You have no morals. How many times do I have to discipline you? You obviously have no self-restraint. You are without moral fibre and incapable of self-denial. Have you anything to say for yourself before I cane you?'
   Again she shook her head, missing the fact that he had the rod with him, and the implication that held.
   'Nothing at all?' he demanded.
   'I'm sorry, uncle,' she offered feebly. 'What else can I say?'
   'I'm afraid that doesn't right the wrong,' he said dourly. 'Regret doesn't countenance the crime.'
   'I'm confused,' she uttered. 'I feel so lonely. I have no one. I need to be loved. Everyone needs that. I had a loving family, but they were taken from me so suddenly. I just feel so hollow inside. So empty.'
   'Nothing you have done, no crime you have committed, can be blamed on loneliness, only on depravity. Kneel on the bed, Alice, then place your head on the blanket.'
  Eyeing the cane with trepidation she assumed the required position, her ill-treated bottom thrust up, wanton commotion flustering.
   Richard placed the length against those coloured cheeks, satisfied at the stretch of skin, the vulnerability of the target. 'Before I commence, Alice,' he stated, 'I want to know if you have slept with Mr Howell.'
   'No, uncle,' she whispered, 'I haven't.'
   'I'll put it another way, then,' he persisted. 'Have you had intimate relations with him?'
   'No,' was the only answer Alice could offer. To admit to any amour with Jay would be akin to placing the noose around her own neck - and Jay's too.
   Lips twisted in bitter response, Richard levied the rod on her upper thighs, the result excruciating, her concupiscence doused.
   'I'll ask you that question again, Alice. Have you had intimate relations with Mr Howell?'
   'He's not interested in me,' she sobbed. 'He's married. He loves his wife.'
   The cane sliced an inch lower, the hurt piercing. 'I don't believe you. I think there is something going on and I will find out, eventually.'
   'Please, uncle, cane me for what you caught me doing, but not for something I am innocent of.'
   Certain of his suspicions, he struck again.
   'Why won't you listen to me?' Alice whined.
   'I hear you. I just don't believe you. And I will thrash you until you admit to those relations.'
   Alice held out until the eighth stroke, her thighs tortured, the smart agonising. 'All right!' she near screamed. 'All right, we have kissed, I admit it.'
   'Kissed?' he derided. 'I think you have done more than kissed.' He slashed her striped limbs. 'The truth, Alice; I will have the truth.'
   'Honestly, uncle, we haven't had sex. I'm still a virgin.'
   'But you've done more than kiss, haven't you?' He added another stroke to emphasise his determination to get to the truth.
   'Petting, that's all,' she wailed.
   'Slowly I drag the truth from your disreputable body. Slowly we unearth the filth. He's old enough to be your father. In fact, he has taken up that station. I knew I couldn't trust him, or you come to that. This only justifies my fears.'
   He whipped her rump, the cut severe. 'So what do you see in him? I can guess what the lecher sees in you.'
   'He's handsome, kind, generous and thoughtful,' Alice wailed.
   'Everything I'm not, you mean?'
   'I didn't say that.'
   'But you are thinking it.'
   'No, all I ever wanted from you was an uncle's affection.'
   Richard sneered. 'You want my affection?'
   'Yes, I need it.'
   Richard studied her for a few moments, and then laying the cane on the bed he gently stroked her beaten spheres, his hand wandering, caressing the cheeks.
   'What are you doing, uncle?' she asked timorously.
   'I'm being affectionate, Alice,' he stated. 'It's what you want, isn't it?'
   'I meant an uncle's love,' she mumbled, her thoughts in a spin.
   'You find Jonathan attractive but not I?' he asked, his tone heavy with mock hurt. 'Is that it, my dear?'
   'You keep putting words in my mouth, uncle,' she protested, the mention of her mouth and putting something in it making the flesh pulse again in the secrecy of his trousers.
   'I simply seek the truth, Alice,' he told her. 'No more than that.'
   'I can't be attracted to a relation, can I?' she reasoned. 'It wouldn't be right.'
   'You could try to understand me,' he said. 'Understand my needs instead of always your own.'
   'What are you suggesting?' She rolled onto her back and snatched at the blankets, covering her lower half, wincing as her beaten bottom made contact with the sheet.
   Richard climbed onto the bed beside her, his hand possessively seeking and then feeling her nearest breast through the still damp material of her blouse. 'I'm as much of a man as that Howell,' he growled. 'Admittedly I don't have his money, but that isn't everything.'
   'It's not his money, uncle, it's him,' she said, his comment momentarily distracting her attentions from the uninvited hand that cupped and pawed her breast.
   'And does Jennifer know about this dalliance?' he asked, observing and gauging her reactions carefully.
   'What do you think?' she said sulkily, her pout confirming that the woman did indeed know, the thought of that seeming to distract her even further and allow him to trace the outline of her nipple with the ball of his thumb.
   'Oh dear, Alice,' he said, shaking his head and tutting, 'you certainly know how to live dangerously...' Not prepared to wait any longer, and assessing the battle already won, Richard unfastened those same top three buttons of the blouse, paused, ready to quash any last rebellion, and seeing none in her eyes, slid his hand inside, the feel of her supple warm breast exquisite against his searching fingers.
   'I don't think you should be doing that, uncle,' she whispered, lying inert on the bed as he knelt beside her, as though pinned there by his intimidating presence. 'I'd rather you didn't, uncle.'
   'And I'd rather you didn't fuck with Mr Howell,' he said viciously, his use of that offensive verb astounding them both in equal measure. Alice had never heard him swear, Richard normally incapable of forming such a word.
   'This is sick,' she said and rolled her head to the side, unable to look at him, nauseated by his clammy groping.
   'Oh, I don't think so, my dear,' he replied smugly. 'You are being taught an important lesson of life. A girl such as you, attractive and shapely, will invite unwanted attention by emphasising her body. I could be that stranger who asked you out. I could be that butler who thrashed you. In fact, I could be just about anyone. Be thankful it is me here with you, teaching you, someone you can trust, someone with nothing but your best interests at heart...'
   'If you say so,' she mumbled, unconvinced, feeling her treacherous nipples responding to his loathsome touch, rolling her head to look back up at him, her damp auburn hair spread out on his pillow. 'I think I'm getting to understand your message.'
   Gaining in the confidence of attaining certain victory his fingers probed further, his hand tilting to facilitate their early exploration just inside her lacy bra cup, finding an erect nipple waiting there for them. 'No, Alice, I don't think you do,' he differed, his voice heavy. 'But you will. That I can assure you.'
   His hand withdrew and Alice dared relax for a moment, thinking his staunch beliefs had re-established reason in his mind, but then she squealed as he gripped her blouse and aggressively tugged it apart, the last of the buttons yielding without resistance. Before she could respond he yanked the blouse off her shoulders to her elbows, utilising it as an effective piece of bondage, pinning her arms to her sides. Alice squirmed and tried to recoil, but without her hands to protect herself he grinned down triumphantly, then swooped and pressed his face to her cleavage, burying his nose between her soft, fragrant breasts, his vile tongue licking and slobbering as he muttered incoherently against her flesh.
   She tried to roll to the side, to dislodge the frenzied man, but he easily pinned her, refused her escape. Never did she anticipate such a blatant sexual advance, not from her uncle, not from the pious Richard. She protested again. 'This is wrong, uncle,' she pleaded. 'For whatever reasons you may have for doing what you're doing, this is still against God's laws.'
   He rose from those succulent breasts, saliva wetting the upper slopes of the fleshy orbs and his chin. He rebuked her, his face a snarl. 'Don't you dare lecture me on God's laws!' he growled threateningly. 'You little hypocrite. I know exactly what I do and I can assure you I will be rewarded in the hereafter, not vilified.'
   Frozen to the bed, completely unable to move, Alice gazed up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. He was punishing her for her own sake. Is that what he was doing? He was demonstrating the consequence of what he saw as her folly; what she might expect by attracting the wrong sort. But what was the alternative for her? To wear a sackcloth and a veil? She would escape his vile clutches. She would never return. Perhaps she should take her revenge, do what she came for. Inflame him. Drive the twisted little bastard mad, knowing he couldn't take that final satisfaction, for that would be incest, and even the demented Richard wouldn't chance incurring the wrath of the authorities or God by doing that.
   Deciding it was her only chance of finally getting away from the creep, she took a deep breath, managed to release one of her hands without him intervening, and reached up to gently stroke his thinning hair, the feel of the lank strands repulsive. 'It's okay, uncle,' she whispered gently. 'I do understand. You're doing all this for me...'
  For the moment he seemed pacified, kneeling without touching her, merely gazing down at her perfection, her breasts still encased snugly in her bra, one arm still pinned to her side by her blouse, her lustrous hair spread like silk on his pillow. She continued to soothe his temple, his tongue licking slack lips. He was a shabby, pathetic worm, and she could see why he had never married. No woman in her right mind would have him. He was a selfish, arrogant egotist. His unkempt clothes screamed miser; that threadbare grey shirt, the collar and cuffs worn through; those baggy trousers, oh neatly pressed but discoloured at the knees and, she wrinkled her nose, the flies.
   'Uncle,' she whispered, wanting to conclude the nightmare as quickly as possible. 'Uncle, let me sit up. I want to do something for you. It'll be nice, I promise...'
   Richard watched the girl carefully, considering any possible deceptions, and deciding she posed no threat allowed her to sit and remove the remnants of her tattered blouse, devouring her every movement with beady eyes, every quiver of youthful flesh.
   She sat beside him in the centre of his bed, stared deeply into his eyes, then slowly reached behind her back with both hands, the movement pushing her bra-encased breasts towards him, her cleavage tight and inviting as one just brushed tantalisingly against his shirt-sleeved arm. Alice paused, her sweet breath drifting over moist, slightly parted lips. The man waited, an urgency in his mien, and then a nerve twitched in his cheek as she moved slightly and he knew she had unclasped her bra.
   Alice adroitly moved her hands forward and clasped the cups without letting them fall, then offering her most seductive pout, her fingers spread over her breasts, holding the bra to them, she asked, 'Do you want to see them, uncle? Would you like to see my breasts?'
   His eyes transfixed to those delicate hands, his lips moved but no words came.
   'Uncle,' she pressed, 'perhaps you might even like to touch them. It would be very naughty of us, but perhaps just a little feel wouldn't be sinful, would it?'
   Again his lips moved, and this time he managed a croak.
   'I'd like you to look at me, and perhaps touch me, uncle,' she whispered. 'I want to do this for you. Wouldn't you like that?'
   'Yes, Alice,' he finally sighed. 'Yes, I would like that, very much.'
   'Good,' she whispered, 'because I want to please you,' and taking another very deep breath to summon her resolve, she moved her hands and dropped the lacy cups from those exquisite breasts, Richard groaning audibly as he feasted his eyes on the delectable spheres of soft flesh. They thrust towards him, trim and perfectly shaped, uplifted and firm. Richard groaned again, shaking hands reaching out, encompassing, grasping those juicy morsels as Alice tried not to recoil from the clammy touch.
   So he had done all that had gone before to teach her a lesson for her own good, to help her? The weasel was beside himself with lust, she knew that. What would he do later, sin whilst alone? Masturbate himself stupid? Alice had little doubt that he would, and the thought made her cringe inwardly.
   Wanting to convince him of her gratitude and acceptance, Alice placed one hand over one of his, guiding its slow movements on her breast as she whispered words of encouragement, and with the other she lifted his chin, almost faltered as she saw his wet, loose lips, but closed her eyes and leant forward, pressing her lips to his, kissing him.
   The incendiary planted, Richard rocked to the explosion. No one had ever kissed him in such a disturbing fashion. His guts took on wings and flew. His heart held the promise of a cardiac arrest. His legs weakened, despite the fact he was not standing, that projectile rigid between scrawny thighs close to bursting point. If Alice truly intended to arouse him, then she had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.
   Alice withdrew, leaned back, the man staring wildly, mouth agape. She said nothing, but still held his hand to her breast, moving it slowly. Words could only rankle. She knew not, nor cared not what he thought.
  Gathering wits he savoured the feel of her, squeezing and mauling. Wanting to regain the initiative he leaned forward and engaged teeth, biting the sleek orbs. Alice gasped, and experienced a pang that shouldn't be. Nefarious activity tingled tight between her thighs. Treacherous bursts of energy fired her body. Her mind screamed no, she was losing the control she'd only so recently gained, but despicable lust stood firm, impervious.
  Richard laboured on her, slobbered and fed from her, fevered by her pliant flesh, his continuous manipulation of spheroids, areola and extended nipples intensifying licentious emotions within her. She had to detach herself from them; it was her only chance of finding another avenue of retreat.
   The man disengaged from all virtuous doubts, committed himself wholeheartedly to animal instincts. He descended her smooth torso, licking and nibbling her flat belly, his hands constantly roaming, possessing, feeling, pinching, despairing of fulfilment.
   He tugged away the blanket she'd previously used for cover, Alice knowing she should cling to it, but unable to. His nose and lips burrowed between her thighs, prising them apart.
   'Uncle,' she whispered, fingers entwining in his thinning strands of greasy hair, her strength to push him away failing her, 'you shouldn't... you can't...'
   Her feeble protests encouraged him, their lack of conviction speaking volumes. Her hands on his head clearly urged him on, giving her agreement to venture further, marking her as a collaborator in his avaricious act. Not that he had any intention of being denied now. So he pressed her flat to the mattress, enjoying her hiss as her welted bottom sank more firmly against abrasive material, positioning her perfectly for him to feast upon...

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