Ch. 7: Turtle's Story
Alice was a polite girl and she believed that when you are invited to a party, as she had been by Mrs Duchess, she should go. This was at the house of Mr and Mrs Hart in a very genteel part of the town. So she put on some very respectable clothes that Mouse had lent her and went to the address. The house was enormous, and Alice wasn't sure that she was in the right place as she entered the front door, but the footman looked at her invitation card and nodded her through.
Alice saw a beautiful garden through the doors in the living room with bright flower-beds and a cool fountain, and attracted by its beauty she walked in. A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden, and just by them were three young black men, hardly older than herself, wearing only little silk scarves around their necks, who were in a very odd position together. One of them was leaning against the tree holding himself up while another boy was behind him and seemed to be pushing his prick into the first boy's backside. A third boy was standing behind the two of them and seemed to be trying to do the same thing. The problem appeared to be that none of the boys appeared to enjoy what they were doing and their pricks were barely erect enough to stay lodged inside the other's bottom. Furthermore, the one who did have a prick inside him was not grunting from pleasure but more from discomfort.
"We should have used soap," complained the middle one pulling his penis out of the first one's bottom. "Or butter. Cooking oil is clearly not good enough."
"My arse hurts like hell," complained the first one stroking his bottom with his middle finger.
"Would you tell me, please," said Alice, a little timidly, "why you are doing that?"
The first two said nothing, but looked at the third one, who was in least discomfort, who began, in a low voice, "Why, the fact is, you see, Miss, we are supposed to be buggering each other in a row for when the guests arrive and if Madam finds that we aren't doing it we should all lose our jobs, you know. So you see, Miss, we're doing our best before she comes, to - " At this moment, the first one, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out "Madam! Madam!" and the three young men instantly threw themselves flat upon their faces with their bums sticking out suggestively into the air. There was a sound of many footsteps, and Alice looked round, eager to see the other guests.
There were a motley bunch of people dressed in the most peculiar ways. Some wore leather outfits that covered their faces and most of their body except for their genitals and nipples. Some wore nothing at all. Many wore only clothes that covered some of their body but seemingly never their genitals. In amongst the guests, Alice last saw the hosts who were Mr and Mrs Hart. Mrs Hart was clearly the most dominant, wearing a striking combination of leather and chains which did little to hide the fact that she was rather old and that her skin and breasts were quite seriously sagging. Even so, she seemed to have no shame about displaying her drooping nipples which balanced at the top of the creases of her folded stomach and the threadbare patch of her crotch which was just beneath.
When the procession came opposite Alice, they all stopped and looked at her, and Mrs Hart said, severely, "Who is this?" She said it to a young gentleman, possibly a butler, who was almost modestly clothed in a jacket without underpants or trousers, who only bowed and smiled in reply.
"Idiot!" said Mrs Hart, smacking him with a cane impatiently; and, turning to Alice, she went on: "What's your name?"
"My name is Alice," said Alice very politely.
"And who are these?" said Mrs Hart to the butler, pointing to the three young black men who were lying round the rose-tree, "Stand them up!"
The butler did so, very carefully, with one foot.
"Get up!" said Mrs Hart in a shrill loud voice, and the three instantly jumped up, and began bowing to her and the other guests. "Why weren't you doing what I told you to do?"
"May it please you Madam," said one, in a very humble tone, "we were trying..."
"I see!" said Mrs Hart. "Fuck off and don't come back!" The procession moved on, and the unfortunate young men scampered away.
Mrs Hart and the others moved on to the lawn where the guests all settled down on the grass. Alice thought she had never seen such a curious scene in her life as the activity which followed. The guests started jumping on top of each other and making love. Some of the men were buggered by some of the women. Some women started making love to other women and some men to other men. The whole lawn was a writhing mass of naked and half-naked bodies. Mrs Hart was wandering around giving instructions to the guests as to how they should be conducting their sexual activities with each other.
Alice began to feel very uneasy: to be sure, she had not expected the garden party to be anything like this and she didn't want to do any of the things that Mrs Hart was instructing the guests to do. She was sure Mrs Hart would approach her any minute, "and then," thought she, "what would become of me?"
She was looking for some way of escape, and wondering whether she could get away without being seen, when she noticed a grin in the distance and she said to herself, "It's Kedi: now I shall have somebody to talk to."
"How are you getting on?" said Kedi, as soon as Alice approached her. Kedi was, as before, wearing no clothes, but she seemed modest in comparison to the additional accoutrements worn by the guests. Alice began an account of what was going on, feeling very glad she had someone to listen to her.
"How do you like Mrs Hart?" said Kedi in a low voice.
"Not at all," said Alice.
"Who are you talking to?" said Mr Hart who was dressed in only an open cloak and a hat, coming up to Alice, and looking at Kedi with great curiosity.
"It's a friend of mine - Kedi," said Alice: "allow me to introduce her."
"I don't like the look of her at all," said Mr Hart: "however, she may suck my prick, if she likes."
"I'd rather not," Kedi remarked.
"Don't be impertinent," said Mr Hart. "Well she's a filthy sambo and she must be removed," he said very decidedly; and he called to his wife, who was passing at the moment, "My dear! I wish you would have this blackamoor removed."
Mrs Hart had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. "Fuck off!" she said without even looking round.
Alice could think of nothing else to say but "She's a servant of Mrs Duchess: you'd better ask her about it."