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Copyright Oggbashan December 2014
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
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Alice's Wonderland, or 'Eat Me; Drink Me'
Prologue
The planet Sextiple was known throughout the galaxy as the place to go for gambling, entertainment, pleasure and unusual experiences. If you could afford it, Sextiple was the place to let your hair down.
It advertised itself as bigger and better than the historic US gambling town that most had forgotten.
I wasn't there for pleasure. My employers, a large pan-galactic business management company, had sent me to Sextiple as a senior accountant helping with their audits of the companies who ran Sextiple.
Unlike on many other planets I didn't have to worry about obscure accounting practices to avoid taxes. There was only one tax on Sextiple, a one per cent levy. The tax was collected at the Currency conversion points. Only Sextiple currency could be spent on the planet, and the one per cent was deducted when off-planet currency was exchanged.
It was a serious criminal offence to use any other currency, but why would you? The exchange rates, including the tax, were very good. Almost any planet's currency, once changed into Sextiple money, had a purchase power at least three times that of the original money.
The downside? You couldn't take Sextiple money off-planet. If you won big at poker, you could convert your winnings, or spend it on Sextiple for three times the fun.
Before I landed on Sextiple I had arranged for at least three-quarters of my wages to be paid off-planet. The quarter, paid in Sextiple currency, was more than I needed to live and enjoy myself within reasonable limits, particularly as my employment contract barred me from any gambling beyond lotteries.
Most of the residents on the planet were there temporarily, like me. It was a great place to work when you are young. Most contracts provided full board accommodation at no cost, two trips a year back to your home planet, and facilities for employees.
Anyone who worked for five years on Sextiple, whatever they did, would be able to save most of their earnings, unless they were seduced by the gambling opportunities. At the end of their contract they could return home with sufficient money in the bank to set themselves up for life.
Like many others I was buying a house on my home planet, and would have paid off the loan by the time my stay on Sextiple ended.
Meeting Alice
One of the common facilities offered to employees on Sextiple were staff clubs. They were meant to be only for employees of the particular contractor but that wasn't enforced or even observed. As long as you were a local employee wearing a staff tag, you could go to any staff club and enjoy the free food, free drink and free entertainment.
I, and many of my friends, had tried other staff clubs. The one we agreed was a disappointment had been the Prostitutes' Club. Off-duty, the last thing the Prostitutes wanted was sex. They might talk sometimes about unusual client requests, exchange information about clients to be avoided, but generally they were even more boring than my accountant colleagues.
One Wednesday evening my colleague Brian persuaded me to join him at the Entertainers' Club. His girlfriend Zoe was a serious actress, performing in drama. I had been told that most Entertainers weren't great company off stage, but surely they might be better company than my Accountants' Club where people spent too much time talking shop. The designation Entertainers included those who performed sex in public such as Pole and Lap Dancers.
When I entered the prospects looked much better. The people were all young, attractive, and animated. Some were still wearing their stage make up, because they had just finished a performance or would be starting one shortly. The big names, the headline acts, didn't go to the Entertainers' Club. They had their parties in their luxury hotel suites. Those there that evening were the bit players, the children's entertainers, the specialist performers including the sexual artistes.
In my formal accountant's pinstripe suiting I looked out of place. I had thought I could pretend to be an actor in a play. I couldn't continue that deception if anyone came close to me because my mandatory staff tag showed my employer and my status. I was labelled "Senior Accountant".
Some of the tags near me read "Ingénue"; "Dancer"; "Chorus Line" etc.
Zoe introduced me to her friend Helen. Helen was a tall raven haired woman dressed in a long white Greek dress held together with gold straps. Zoe introduced her as Helen of Troy. Helen's boyfriend was temporarily off-planet visiting his parents.
Helen explained that he was intending to gently break the news that he might become engaged to an actress. She was very willing to be with me for the evening, but as Brian and Zoe's friend, not a replacement for the absent boyfriend. We four shared a table. Brian and I danced with Helen and Zoe several times. I had an enjoyable evening.
Helen was a good companion for an evening. She seemed to like me too and suggested that Brian and Zoe bring me back another night.
They did. Several times. I had become almost a regular, with or without Brian and Zoe, even after Helen's boyfriend returned. We had enlarged our group of acquaintances in the Entertainers' Club. I could choose to dance with an increasing number of women who were part of the group of friends.
Several weeks later I was free on a Friday evening. I knew most of our friends wouldn't be there. They were regulars on Wednesday and Thursday evenings, a quiet time for entertainers because most entertainment was staged on Friday and Saturday nights.
Even though I expected to miss most of our friends I thought a few might be there. I didn't recognise anyone. They were a completely different set of people.
But one woman came straight towards me.
"You're a new face, aren't you?"
She lifted my tag.
"Graham Smythe, Senior Accountant? You are slumming, aren't you Graham?"
I looked at her tag. It said: 'Alice Wonderland, Pantomime and Fetish Artist'. She looked like it.
Alice was wearing the traditional Alice in Wonderland outfit of a full skirted blue dress with a white apron. The apron was large, the upper part covering her torso. It was frilled at the sides, had short cap sleeves, and the apron ties crossed her back before being tied behind her waist. Her blonde hair bounced on her apron covered shoulders. But she was no children's Alice. Her breasts strained against the bodice of her dress. Her legs were clad in white stockings but as she had walked towards me the white suspenders had been visible under her petticoats.
Her face looked lived in, world weary. The expression seemed to say 'OK, I'm Alice in Wonderland, but I've seen it all, done it all, and I'm bored of it'.
"Alice Wonderland?" I asked. "Is that your real name?"
"No, Graham, it's not. You couldn't say my real name. Human throats can't produce the right sounds."
"Human, Alice? You look human, a very attractive human."
"Thank you, Graham. I try. But appearances can be deceptive. Just like you. There must be something different under that suit for a Senior Accountant to come here. I'd like to find out how different?"
"Why not? Miss Alice, would you honour me with a dance?"
"I thought you'd never ask. That's why I came across to you."
Alice waved a hand vaguely.
"I've danced with most of those here at least once in the last year. They're OK, but they're too emotional, like most entertainers."
Alice snuggled against my chest. My arm went around her waist. She put both of her arms around me. Our faces were very close as we danced a slow number. I was very aware of Alice's breasts with erect nipples pressed hard against me. After the second dance Alice led me to an empty table. I sat down. She sat on my lap.
Alice stopped one of her passing friends called Moira. Moira was a redhead wearing a clinging green gown that showed an interesting cleavage. She asked Moira to get drinks for us -- the usual. Since drinks at all staff clubs are free, I didn't have to play the gentlemen and buy them. Drinks are provided by dispensing machines.
Moira returned with two drinks. She gave Alice a lurid green foaming concoction. Mine looked clear, like Vodka or Gin.
