Alice Chapter One

Alice

Chapter One

The Secret Garden

Alice skipped down the white gravel path, enjoying the bright spring morning. Everything was so green and smelled fresh. The flowers were in bloom and filled the air with a sweet fragrance. It was the day before her fourteenth birthday, and tomorrow the whole estate would be full of people celebrating. The servants were already busy, erecting the wooden poles upon which would be strung lights and pennants, whilst the kitchen worked round the clock. Today, though, she was on her own, at least as much as she ever was. The path she walked down skirted the neat topiary hedges that in turn framed several square gardens. Further down the path turned back to meet with the driveway, and here, if you turned left instead of right, you could enter the woods. She wasn’t really supposed to go into the woods, for soon they turned dark and tangled, and getting lost in them would be easy, even for the adults.
Alice ducked under the welcoming branches of a young oak and picked her way between patches of lilacs and foxgloves, treading a route that was second nature to her, weaving her way to her secret spot. It took a few minutes to get there, a clearing surrounding an ancient silverbirch. Between its ancient root boughs green mosses formed soft, natural cushioned areas, and it was here that Alice kept her ‘secret things’.
She waited for a few seconds, listening for the sounds of people, but as usual the only things she heard were the cuckoo’s calls. It was cool, here, but not cold, and Alice laid her coat down, after taking her phone from the inner pocket. She then carefully lifted her white dress over her head, before hanging it on one of the drooping branches. Once she has come here and had got so stained with grass that her clothes had been fit only to be thrown away. After the thrashing her father had given her, especially when his spanks had moved between her buttocks, she would certainly not make that mistake again. She stood then in the streams of diffuse light, naked but for her white stockings, tied with bows, and her pair of white shoes. She ran her hands down her body, over her budding breasts, down her belly, past her little patch of blonde hairs, and down to her stocking tops, feeling the crisp air goose-bumping her flesh.
She sat, then, between the thighs of the tree, and rustled through the dried leaves next to her, until she found her bag of secrets. She took each thing out nervously. First there was the bottle of wine she’d taken from the cellar. It was half-drunk, now, and would soon need replacing. Next there was a battered packet of Marlboro, with three cigarettes in it that she’d still not had the nerve to try smoking. Next were three dirty magazines she’d discovered in one of the gardener’s sheds, a copy of Hustler, a Swank, and a German edition of Private Taboo. She set these down next to her and reached back into the bag, pulling out her trophy, a used condom that she’d found in the greenhouse after one of her father’s parties. It was red, and starting to dry out, but when she’d first found it, it had still been supple, and filled with semen. Lastly came her most prized possession, a slim silver vibrator that one of the maids had given her on her twelfth birthday, with a sly smile and a promise that no one would know about it.
She began her ritual, always the same now, by running the condom over her face, breathing in the scent of old latex, before bringing it down her belly, and finally, she tucked it into her stockings. She then took a single swig of the wine, swallowing it down as it warmed her. She opened the Swank, positioned it on the wooden root beside her, and turned the pages. She’d read the stories so many times she could practically recite them, and soon she found her self reading the phone sex adverts, and the full page ads for videos. Her hand was by then holding the vibrator between her legs. She’d tried to insert it, once, but it had been too uncomfortable. As she held the buzzing plastic to her clitoris, she felt her self opening, as though her special spot was begging to engulf something, anything, like the girls in the pictures.
She ended up peering at a couple of adverts.