We don't own Alice in Wonderland or any of its characters. Based on the 2010 Tim Burton film.
Rated M for explicit adult content.
Special warning - bdsm, slavery, torture, non-con sexual situations. Don't like, please don't read!
Based on an idea by PsychoJinx - thank you very much!
Part of this is also written by AliceAD.
An innocent excursion to the abandoned Red Castle leads to Alice and Tarrant being taken captive by the former Knave of Hearts. What he plans for them is nothing less than horrific.
"All you have to do is love me!" Stayne hissed at Alice, a small piece of angry spittle striking her cheek. "That's all you have to do! Do that, and you and your precious Hatter will have very comfortable lives, indeed!"
Alice had no hope of breaking the choke-hold the Knave had about her neck, and Tarrant had no hope of breaking free from Stayne's guards who held him firmly within their grasp.
Alice could barely process the fact that she and Tarrant were in this situation at all. The Jabberwocky had been defeated, and the Red Queen and Stayne sent into Exile. It was obvious that Stayne had slain Iracebeth of Crims, as he still bore the remains of the handcuffs on one wrist. All of the links were missing, as well as the other cuff, but the one cuff was magically bound to his right wrist and he had so far been unable to remove it. Also, he had told her that Iracebeth was dead and he had watched with glee as scavenging creatures made a feast of her bulbous-headed corpse.
Now he was back at his old ancestral castle. He was the eldest son of his deceased parents, and as far as he knew, the only surviving child at all. Alice suspected he had something to do with the rumoured brutal murder of his siblings. Stayne had returned to his home to rule, and his home, wherever it was, was very, very far from Marmoreal.
All Alice and Tarrant had done was to return to the castle at Crims to scout the premises for any signs of survivors of the fallen Queen's reign, or any former guards in hiding who would be willing to serve under Mirana, the White Queen.
But Stayne had been there with his men, and any survivors or guards there may have been were either dead or scattered. They had been captured with relative ease and taken by horseback, bound and manacled, many days, perhaps several weeks, journey into the Outlands, or so Alice could only guess, until they came upon a large, brooding black structure that was the home of the once noble Stayne family.
And now Ilosovic Stayne intended to be king of his own, albeit secluded and barren, territory. He had many dozens of men at his command, and the castle was filled with servants. Where had they all come from? Why did they serve him? Alice looked fearfully into the Knave's angry eye. Her air was all but cut off and she wondered if she would even live to discover the answers.
"What say you?" Stayne hissed.
"No, Alice! No matter what, don't give yourself to him!"
Alice closed her eyes, expecting the guards, or Stayne, to strike Tarrant, but nothing happened. When she opened her eyes again the Knave was still glaring at her with his single dark and menacing eye.
"No," she choked out. "I don't love you and I won't!"
She was suddenly hurled onto the unforgiving stone floor, her elbows and knees striking it painfully; and she knew she would bruise badly.
"You'll regret that," the Knave replied, calmly now. "Oh, yes; you and your precious Hatter will both regret that."
The Knave obviously meant to make good on his promise at once. They were now in his bed chamber.
Tarrant's wrists were manacled behind his back and his ankles were chained with the chain allowing only enough slack to permit small steps. Two guards flanked him and each held an arm.
Alice was free of chains, but the Knave held her arm and his strength was overwhelming to her. She could not break away, nor flee. And even if she did, where would she go? And she couldn't leave Tarrant behind! No matter what, she swore to herself, she would never, ever, leave him.
Stayne then released her and began to remove his clothing. Tarrant said something under his breath and this time he was struck. The guard to his right punched him in the stomach, momentarily winding the Hatter.
"Yes," Stayne said, "you be quiet or it will go much worse for your pretty little blonde. As it stands now, I shall be generous to her." He turned to glare at Alice. "I'll take you here and now. I'll take you in every way that a woman can be taken; and your friend will watch." He spoke as if he were speaking to a child; in short and precise sentences.
"But first, you will pleasure me with that pretty little mouth of yours. And, no worries, my dear, at your inexperience. You will, over the course of your life with me, have countless opportunities to perfect your technique. I am rather...large; so at first I will be forgiving of you. But I suggest you learn quickly."
Alice felt her stomach roil at his words. She was innocent, but she was not entirely ignorant. She understood exactly what the Knave meant.
"But first," Stayne said, "I want to view my prize. Take off your clothes. And do be quick about it or I'll have your harlequin friend whipped to within an inch of his miserable life."
Alice trembled violently and desperately wanted to look to Tarrant for even the smallest amount of reassurance; however, she did not dare. She knew she did not truly want to see the pain and fear that would inevitably be etched in his eyes right now.
Oh, this vile man was evil! Not only did he want to hurt and humiliate her, and likely also break her spirit, but he had no qualms about doing the same to Tarrant through her. He obviously wanted to have two people to play with and amuse him. He wanted two slaves, and as long as they could not escape he would have what he wanted. And by knowing of their attachment to each other both were considerably weakened.
Alice slowly bent down to unbutton her half-boots. No, she and Tarrant were not weakened; they were completely impotent.
She pulled off her boots and then her socks. She stood and began to work at the buttons at her bodice, but her hands were shaking so badly that she made a hash of the job. She fumbled and stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again. This time she succeeded in unfastening three of the buttons before Stayne lost his patience.
He strode to her and grasped the front of the gown and ripped it open, baring her upper body completely. Why, oh why, did she never wear a corset? Yes, she hated them, but if she had worn one now she would at least appear to have some modicum of modesty. Surely she appeared to have little to no shame!
"Hah!" Stayne said loudly, "no corset! What a wanton my pretty little Champion is! Beneath that demure facade surely lies a..."
"Din nae talk abou' her lak tha'!" Tarrant shouted, and Alice whipped her head towards him, forgetting her near nudity for the moment. Tarrant was so angry that his eyes were orange with flecks of the mad red that threatened to overtake them. He was spitting his words and saliva dribbled down his chin in his anger and rage.
He struggled against the guards, pulling at the manacles behind his back so powerfully that when he turned and suddenly bit a guard's shoulder so hard that blood spurted, Alice saw Tarrant's blue blood dripping from his mangled wrists onto the plush red carpet on the Knave's floor.
The red blood (why was the guard's blood red, Alice wondered in the back of her mind) spurted from the man and he yelled and pulled back in shock and fear of the struggling Hatter.
The other guard and Stayne quickly restrained Tarrant and held him fast, but both men betrayed surprise and more than a hint of fear at the extent of Tarrant's strength and determination in his madness.
Stayne drew his dagger and struck Tarrant's head with the butt of the weapon, effectively rendering him mercifully unable to fight any longer. Tarrant fell to his knees, helpless, dazed, and barely conscious.
That was good enough for Stayne. "You!" he hissed to Alice, "finish undressing!" He now regretted ripping the top of her gown off, as part of his plan for 'breaking' Alice was to force her to humiliate herself. That way she would not be able to assume the role of a martyr in her disrobing.
With hands that were trembling more violently than ever, Alice shoved her torn gown over her hips and it puddled around her bare feet. All that was left to clothe her were her bloomers, and even the length of those were no comfort for the young woman.
Alice stood still, concern for Tarrant over-riding her mortification for the moment. His eyes were orange tinged with grey; which Alice could only assume was injury and confusion blending with his fury. When she heard that his breathing was regular, however, and that he was not bleeding profusely from Stayne's wound, she forced herself to assume that her beloved friend was not seriously injured.
For now, however, she had to obey Stayne. She was terrified for herself, but she also had Tarrant to consider. Angering the Knave would not bode well for either of them. Even though she was generally aware of the sicking and frightening fate that was awaiting her, her fear for Tarrant would keep her behaviour in check. Of course Stayne knew this. He held the best bargaining chip in Underland; the man Alice loved above all others.
When Stayne's eye dropped to her waist the blonde quickly fumbled with her bloomers. When they lay discarded atop the remains of her gown she blushed furiously. It took all the will-power she could muster to prevent herself from attempting to shield any part of her body. She couldn't prevent her fists clenching at her sides, however.
Stayne grinned as he approvingly raked his dark eye over every inch of her pale form. Her long, curling hair did not completely cloak her full, but not large, breasts; her flat stomach and tiny navel, and below that he greedily drank in the sight of the golden curls that concealed her most intimate femininity. Normally, virgins did not appeal to him, as their ignorance in bed was not something he had patience for. But in Alice's case he couldn't have been more pleased.
Breaking her in would be the single most satisfying feat of sexual conquest he would ever experience.
Tarrant, for his part, was regaining his senses; or what passed for senses in such a situation. His Alice was standing naked and vulnerable! Oh, she was so beautiful! Like an ethereal goddess of beauty, she was. He wanted, with every cell in his body, to crush her into his embrace and shower her with kisses that were hungry and loving and passionate; and even reverence. For would she allow him such an honour he would surely be humbled beyond belief.
But suddenly the clarity of precisely what was happening came crashing down on his half-broken mind once more. This was no dream. This was reality. And the reality was that Alice was about to be painfully and sickeningly violated by the former Knave of Hearts.
Ilosovic Stayne grinned and stepped forward to examine his prize more thoroughly. He used his teeth to remove his close-fitting soft leather gloves one finger at a time. He dropped each glove from his mouth as they left his hands and flexed his fingers, wanting to make certain that they would be properly sensitized when he felt of his captive.
Tarrant swallowed and Alice squeezed her eyes closed as his hands cupped her breasts. Her soft globes were being touched by a man for the first time, and if the man had been Tarrant instead of the Knave, Alice would have found pleasure. Instead, all she felt was disgust and mortification.
She suddenly cried out as a nipple was cruelly squeezed and twisted and her eyes flew open in shock.
"Look at me when I touch you!" Stayne said sharply, with anger and a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Disappointment? Alice was puzzled. She was certain that she detected disappointment. Could it be that he was sincere in wanting her to...want him? Then she realized that her initial assumption was incorrect. The look on Stayne's face told her the truth. He wanted her to desire him; but not because he cared about how she felt, but because he, as a man, was not accustomed to any woman being repulsed by his touch.
Stayne squeezed her breasts and ran his calloused palms over her nipples, stimulating Alice against her will. But she would be damned to Hell itself before she would allow her body's...poor judgment to betray her true feelings!
When the Knave softened his approach and then began to toy with her nipples more gently, Alice felt anger mixed with shame. That secret place between her thighs was growing damp and she swore she could smell the slightest scent of musk radiate from her maidenhood. She desperately hoped that Stayne did not notice.
"So, my little captive enjoys my touch after all," he crooned, dispelling any notion that he had not noticed the signs her body was betraying. "I can smell you, little one. You smell like every lady, serving maid, tavern wench, and whore that I have ever favoured."
Alice gasped in shame and Tarrant growled in fury. He knew that Alice couldn't help what her body felt; but did she? Did she think she was to blame for her purely physical responses?
Then Stayne suddenly grasped both of her nipples and tugged on them, forcing the completely discomfited blonde to totter to his bed. He released her reddened and bruising nipples and shoved her onto the bed.
He began to undress, obviously not caring about the presence of the guards who would be witnesses to the atrocities that were about to occur. "Ready yourself, my little one. You are about to experience Ilosovic Stayne. All of him."
Alice shivered as the last of his clothing fell to the floor. He climbed onto the bed with her.
"Prepare yourself," he said.
Comments are welcome except for flames about the content as there is a clear warning at the top. I have this story about halfway completed, so I'm also open to suggestions along the way.