Alice In Wonderland

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

 

Thomas was just coming up to seventeen. Recently he’d been having the weirdest idea: what would it be like to be a girl? Thomas knew it was ludicrous, but he honestly began to feel that he could have been born the wrong sex, an idea completely without merit for the captain of the school football team.


Nevertheless, it would not let Thomas alone. It niggled and nagged, struggling to obtain a place in his identity until he despaired. He did not have any sisters, and it was not as though there was much female influence in his life, or props to try it out – the whole thing was crazy.


Then, during a summer visit to his Aunt Jessica, he at last confided in someone. He trusted his aunt and knew she would not tell on him. They had just finished breakfast when Thomas took a deep breath.

“Sometimes,” he sighed, “I wish I could be a girl, even if only on a trial basis. If I didn’t like it, I could always be a boy again.”


Jessica smiled. “Nothing like covering all your options and having a get-out clause,” she said.

It was no surprise to Thomas that his aunt was not shocked or taken aback – nothing seemed to knock her out of her stride. Yet he was somewhat disappointed that she had nothing more to offer than sympathy and a fresh cup of tea. Soon after, Thomas returned to his own home.


It was dusk, the evening was heavy with humidity, the sky blood red and he knew a storm was pending. He looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror – he had just started shaving and how he hated it. He slung the razor down. How he wished he could tell his parents or his brothers, but he was sensible enough to realise that they would never understand.

He looked out of the window. The sky had turned black as the night closed in. The odd flash of lightning was followed by the rumble of thunder, rain began to beat a tattoo against the window. Water ran from a broken gutter and splashed onto the concrete patio below like a mini waterfall, and the sound of the wind made Thomas glad he was in the warm confines of his house.


 

 

Thomas undressed and climbed into bed complete with his fantasies and dreams. He looked towards the bottom of the bed at ‘Mr Jeeves’, an old teddy bear much ravaged by time and two older brothers. Gone was the right ear and left eye, and bits of stuffing hung raggedly from a pulled seam in the arm.


Once, his mother had suggested that Mr Jeeves had served his purpose and should be laid to rest in the dustbin. With such loyalty
for battles fought and won, and tearful cuddles, Mr Jeeves had earned his place at the end of the bed. Thomas fell into the deepest of sleeps.


He was woken by the gentlest of touches… “Alice, it’s time to get up.”

Thomas turned dreamily.

“Come on Alice, there’s a cup of tea on the table by your bed.”

Thomas shook himself awake and listened to the departing footsteps. He yawned, rubbing sleepdust from tired eyes. His eyes drank in the room: this was not the room he had gone to sleep in…

Mr Jeeves winked at him from two gleaming eyes. There were left and right ears, and only the tiniest piece of stuffing missing from the arm.


Thomas allowed his gaze to wander around the room. There were also lace chintz curtains at the windows, a beautiful china doll looked at him from the chair by the bed, dressed in the prettiest of dresses. There was a small dressing table with silver brush and comb set, laid out on delicately patterned lace cloths.

The room exuded an aroma of scent and flowers – the paper on the walls was green and covered in woodland scenes of fairies and pixies. His gaze turned to the wardrobe door from which hung a dress and petticoats. Thomas shook his head and reached for his cup of tea with his small, delicate and finely manicured hand, the ruffled wristband of the nightdress he wore seemed to awake him to the reality of the situation.


He became aware of his long brown tresses and the softness of his body and face. Suddenly he tumbled out of bed, pulling off the nightdress to stand naked in front of the mirror. What had happened to him? He felt frightened, unnerved, disbelieving, and a girlish gasp escaped his lips. The reflection was not his, but that of a pretty girl, who looked back at him with large saucer-like brown eyes, framed with long curling lashes.


There were the cutest pouting lips and a pert nose. The body had a slender waist and flared hips, long shapely legs and a fully female venus mound. The small delicate hands went up to the pert little breasts.

Thomas shivered. It really was true – he was a girl. He had to pull himself together, his fantasy had come true but now he was terrified and confused. He turned to the corner of the room and filled the wash basin.

“Alice,” came a voice from a different room. “Hurry, you mustn’t be late.”


 

 

Alice washed herself, feeling the soft sensitivity of her own body. It was hard to explain how she felt as she slipped into the silky knickers and fastened her bra. She stepped almost daintily into the layers of petticoats. The mid-blue flared skirt came almost to her knees, she fastened it and drew up the zip. She pulled on the white polo-necked sweater and fastened the wide black belt around her waist.


How feminine she felt as she sat among a froth of petticoats! Her legs were so silky and smooth, so unlike Thomas’s. She put on the short white socks and black patent shoes with their two inch heels.

Alice brushed out her long hair and moisturised her face. Walking gingerly in her shoes, and very nervous of other people’s reactions, she walked into the kitchen. How gorgeous was the feel of petticoats against one’s legs!


“Morning Alice, did you sleep well?” asked her mother.

“Exceptionally so,” smiled Alice coyly.


Alice’s sister sat opposite her. “You look like the cat who got the cream,” Shirley whispered. Alice could not tell the truth as she squirmed with delight at the feel of her clothes, and her very sex. Nothing else was said until she and her sister were walking to school. How conspicuous Alice felt. But why should she? After all, she really was a girl…

“you look pretty today,” said Shirley.

“Thank you.”

“I hope you have got that stupid notion out of your head about being a boy.” She looked closely at Alice. “I began to think you were cracking up.”

“I don’t remember anything about it. Why would I ever want to be a boy?”


Shirley looked puzzled. They passed several other children who said hello. Alice felt strange tinglings as she passed one boy. How handsome and strong he looked. She checked herself – she had never thought of boys in that light before. But then again, she had never been female before.


The school day passed quickly and it seemed that Alice had the edge on Thomas for schoolwork. People seemed so much kinder to her. She felt totally different, more placid and prone to the giggles over things that Thomas would not have found at all amusing. As the day wore on, Alice became sure that here was the happiness she had always craved.

After school some of the girls stayed to watch the boys play football – not so much for their ability as for their legs and looks. Alice nearly said that she could play better than most of them but caught her tongue in time. Perhaps she would not be so good at football anymore…

 


 

 

Shirley and Alice arrived home for tea together. She felt so confident in herself that she asked to be allowed out.

“I’m sorry Alice, but it’s your turn to wash up, and you also have needlework to do on your dress for your party next week,” said her mother. “Anyway, you know I don’t agree with you going out after dusk.”

Alice felt annoyed. She had never been refused when she wanted to go out in the evenings as Thomas. She helped wash the dishes, then retired to her room. Why was she suddenly so tearful? Did she miss her family? Of course she did. If only she could be Alice with them… She liked Alice’s family well enough but they were not hers.

Alice decided on a hot scented bath before preparing for the night. She looked once more at her naked body, before donning her panties and nightie. She curled up inside the comfortable covers of the bed, knowing that tomorrow it would be back to boring Thomas.


Saturday dawned, the fanlight window let in the crisp morning air. Thomas snuggled comfortably in the warmth of the covers. He looked at Mr Jeeves and the old bear winked at him, one eye and one ear missing.

“Cup of tea, sweetheart,” smiled Thomas’s mother putting it beside the bed. The fragrance of his mother’s scent reminded him of his strange but wonderful dream. It was the same scent Alice had used.

Thomas picked up the cup and a slender hand flicked back a long tress of hair. His mother’s voice sounded from the kitchen.

“Alice, please remember you’ve got ballet at nine-thirty.”


Thomas choked on his tea, he put the cup down and ran to the mirror – Alice looked back at him. Thomas opened the wardrobe door. Gone were all the clothes he usually wore and in their place were those a fashionable young girl should have. Ballet shoes and high heels replaced football boots and training shoes. It was as though Thomas had never been. How could it be possible, he wondered, that Alice was an accepted part of his family. What magic was afoot?


 

 

Alice washed herself, feeling the soft sensitivity of her own body. It was hard to explain how she felt as she slipped into the silky knickers and fastened her bra. She stepped almost daintily into the layers of petticoats. The mid-blue flared skirt came almost to her knees, she fastened it and drew up the zip. She pulled on the white polo-necked sweater and fastened the wide black belt around her waist.


How feminine she felt as she sat among a froth of petticoats! Her legs were so silky and smooth, so unlike Thomas’s. She put on the short white socks and black patent shoes with their two inch heels.

Alice brushed out her long hair and moisturised her face. Walking gingerly in her shoes, and very nervous of other people’s reactions, she walked into the kitchen. How gorgeous was the feel of petticoats against one’s legs!

“Morning Alice, did you sleep well?” asked her mother.

“Exceptionally so,” smiled Alice coyly.

Alice’s sister sat opposite her. “You look like the cat who got the cream,” Shirley whispered. Alice could not tell the truth as she squirmed with delight at the feel of her clothes, and her very sex. Nothing else was said until she and her sister were walking to school. How conspicuous Alice felt. But why should she? After all, she really was a girl…

“you look pretty today,” said Shirley.


“Thank you.”

“I hope you have got that stupid notion out of your head about being a boy.” She looked closely at Alice. “I began to think you were cracking up.”

“I don’t remember anything about it. Why would I ever want to be a boy?”

Shirley looked puzzled. They passed several other children who said hello. Alice felt strange tinglings as she passed one boy. How handsome and strong he looked. She checked herself – she had never thought of boys in that light before. But then again, she had never been female before.


The school day passed quickly and it seemed that Alice had the edge on Thomas for schoolwork. People seemed so much kinder to her. She felt totally different, more placid and prone to the giggles over things that Thomas would not have found at all amusing. As the day wore on, Alice became sure that here was the happiness she had always craved.

After school some of the girls stayed to watch the boys play football – not so much for their ability as for their legs and looks. Alice nearly said that she could play better than most of them but caught her tongue in time. Perhaps she would not be so good at football anymore…

 


 

 

Alice opened her wardrobe and a thrill ran through her as she touched the feminine finery. She dressed prettily in a leotard with a short white skirt. She put her hair in a less-than-expert ponytail and slipped on a pink woollen wrapover. Alice bubbled with excitement as she stepped into white ankle boots and picked up her ballet shoes.

“Tut, Alice, let me do your ponytail,” said her mother.

Alice’s brothers smiled and jested. It was as though Alice had always been part of the family. Even the photos dotted around had changed to show Alice instead of Thomas.

“Don’t forget, Graham is meeting you here after ballet,” said her mother.


Alice found it all a little overpowering. “She” did not even like Graham. Ballet class proved to be hard work and the mistress was not impressed by Alice’s lack of attention. The trouble was, she was desperately trying to work out how all this had come about, and the only possibility she could think of was Aunt Jessica.


Alice returned from ballet and changed into her prettiest pink dress. It flared from the waist, and how her petticoats swished! Her high-heeled white patent court shoes made her feel so elegant. She added blusher to her cheeks and flicked mascara onto her long lashes. She picked out her lips in pretty pink – she felt daring and crazy, yet she was a girl.


The doorbell rang and Graham entered the lounge. She looked at him – how different he was, masculine and strong! She felt her nipples go react and her breasts go taut. Surely she could not fancy him, but he was sending her hormones wild.

They went walking and talking. At first she resisted the arm around her waist, but eventually she gave in. It felt so reassuring and Graham was so different from how she remembered him from Thomas’s point of view. When he took her into his arms and kissed her she felt unable to resist. Her mind said she shouldn’t, but her weak female body failed her…


 

 

A week later she went to Aunt Jessica’s for the weekend. “Can I take your vanity case, dear,” smiled Jessica.

“Thank you Auntie. How pretty your garden is,” remarked Alice as they sat drinking tea. “I do so like your ornaments.”

Alice was able to express her feelings far more easily than poor Thomas.

Alice helped her Aunt in the kitchen before settling herself on the sofa. How wonderful to sit in a froth of petticoats with silk-clad legs. Thomas was becoming little more than a hazily remembered dream. As each day passed Alice felt more and more sure she had always been “Alice”. Aunt Jessica looked at her and a cheeky smile crossed her face.


“Well, Thomas, how do you like your new life?” she asked.

Alice squirmed in her knickers, then compsed herself. “So you were behind all this?” she said.

“You have your wish,” smiled Jessica. “And, so far as everyone else is concerned, you’ve always been Alice.”

“But what if I wanted to become Thomas again?” asked Alice, tempting fate.

Aunt Jessica looked carefully at Alice. “But you don’t, do you?”

“But if I did?”

“It’s too late, my pretty little rose, far too late.”


She shook her head. “This isn’t Clapham Junction, you know, and you can’t change as you want. Anyway, you are such a pretty girl, Alice.”

Alice blushed, embarrassed by her aunt’s words. “Aunt, how did you know what I would choose?”

“I knew for years, even before you asked for my help…”

“But how did you manage it?”

“That, Alice, is my secret and from what I hear you already have the young boys chasing you. It will soon seem as though you’ve always been Alice.”

“What happened to the real Alice?”


Jessica laughed. “Dear girl, Shirley’s sister is now Thomas in the same way that you are Alice. If I had not found someone who wanted to change places with you I could not have altered the cosmic balance. Alice always wanted to be like Thomas and you like Alice. You have your wish and Thomas his. Now concentrate on being the pretty girl of your dreams.”

The End

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