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ball pressing her swollen lips.
    “We won’t bother with the teasing this time. I have some chores to do around the house. Yell for me when you get to—I don’t know—fifteen. That should be enough.”
    He switched on the vibrator, instantly making Alice cry out. She squirmed and struggled against it, but there was no way to escape the sensations.
    “Pilar, please… I’ll go mad.”
    “You’ll do fine, Alice dear.”
    Alice thrashed. “It’s too intense!”
    He put the black dildo back into her mouth, and then found another, even larger, dildo in his bag. It had a thick, elastic strap on the end of it. He forced it up into Alice, filling her completely, and fastened the strap around her thigh so it stayed in place. Already the pleasure began to overpower Alice, the orgasm building rapidly.
    “I’ll check on you in half an hour,” Pilar said.
    A half hour? That was torture! Her eyes implored him not to go, but at the same time Alice didn’t want to spit out the dildo. The sensations were overpowering.
    “Let me tell you how beautiful you look, suffering like this. I should call in the townspeople, sell tickets for them to watch.”
    Alice shook her head, mentally begging him not to do that. She would never be able to handle such humiliation.
    Pilar chuckled to himself, walking away as the orgasm swallowed her.

Chapter 3
Pig and Pepper
    The half hour went by quickly, and yet lasted longer than a lifetime. When Pilar returned and untied her, Alice’s legs felt like rubber, and she could barely walk. She wanted nothing more than to curl up near the fire in his cozy cabin, sip peppermint tea, and then sleep the afternoon away.
    “Goodbye now,” he said, throwing open the door.
    Alice pouted. “Can’t I stay?”
    “No.”
    “But I want to stay. Here. With you.” She’d only just met the man, yet he’d given her everything she’d longed for, everything and much she hadn’t even known existed. “Please?”
    “Don’t be silly, Alice. You have things to do, and so do I. Now, go.”
    Alice didn’t have things to do, at least not in this strange place, but the way he’d said it, so forceful and sure, she didn’t want to contradict. And she did want to go home. Very, very badly.
    “Might I at least have something to wear?” she asked.
    “Nonsense. A woman as beautiful as you, it would be a tragedy to cover you up. But the woods out there can be rough on bare skin. Just a moment.”
    Alice waited, and thirty seconds later, Pilar appeared again, holding a cardboard box.
    “You look to be a size seven,” he said.
    A seven would be a bit tight on her, especially since her breasts still felt a bit swollen, but Alice would be thankful for any dress he gave her.
    But when Pilar opened the box, it didn’t contain a dress. Or a skirt. Or pants.
    It was a pair of black leather boots, with pointed heels and silver buckles at the thighs.
    “Here you are,” he beamed.
    Alice had never worn any such footwear. They looked to be made for strippers. Or prostitutes. But the trail was indeed rough on her bare feet, so she sat in the doorway and with great effort tugged them on.
    “Magnificent,” Pilar said. “They make your legs and bottom look incredible.”
    “Thank you. I—”
    But he had already slammed the door.
    So Alice forced her incredible-looking (but still rubbery) legs to carry her through the mushroom field, and peered up to see the sun glistening on their dew-kissed caps. She’d been in Pilar’s cottage for what seemed like an eternity, and although her balance was wobbly and the spot between her thighs deliciously sore, she didn’t feel the least bit tired.
    She felt brilliant.
    Alice walked in the direction Pilar had pointed, and soon she cleared the forest of mushrooms and came upon a ranch-style house with pink shutters. For a minute she stood looking at the house, wondering if whoever lived there could direct her to the path home, when suddenly a man wearing a police uniform with big