Authors: Adriana Arden
Ruddle beamed. ‘Ah, now this is one of my specials. It’s called Nullivoluntaris musculum. I breed it for the special quality of its scent. What do you think of it?’
Automatically Alice bent her head forward to sniff at one of the blooms. As she did so the flower head seemed to convulse, puffing out a cloud of fine pollen into her face.
She jerked backwards, reaching up to wipe the powder away, only to find that her arm did not want to obey her. Ruddle caught her as her legs folded beneath her.
‘Don’t be afraid, Alice,’ he said, scooping her up effortlessly into his huge arms. ‘It only takes the control away from your muscles for a while. I’ll keep you safe. A thing of beauty is always safe in my garden.’
He carried her over to one of the long potting tables and laid her carefully down on her back. Her head lolled to one side. She could roll her eyes a little but only a faint and plaintive sigh escaped her lips. She could still breathe and feel, but could not move so much as a finger. If he’d wanted sex he could have asked, she thought desperately. She would have paid her way. He didn’t need to do this!
Ruddle beamed down at her, gently brushing the hair out of her eyes, his face still kindly but his eyes now deeper and sharper. He was standing more erect as well. And where had his accent gone?
‘I really couldn’t let you go, not such a fine specimen,’ he continued. ‘Your place is here, along with the rest of my special blooms. Now, let’s have a proper look at you.’
He took hold of her breasts in his large work-roughened hands and squeezed and rolled them in his palms, carefully assessing their weight and the
development
of the glands below their soft skins. It was appreciative but not overtly sexual, and unlike any touch Alice had felt before. What was he going to do with her?
‘Fine ripe fruits,’ he declared. ‘No problem there, I’m sure.’ He prodded her stomach. ‘Trim and firm. Good. But I see your pubic hair is somewhat odd.’ He bent over her groin and stroked and tugged at her downy growth curiously. ‘Most interesting. The result of a potion?’ Alice gave a desperate throaty groan, which Ruddle appeared to take as an affirmative. ‘Quite so,’ he said sympathetically. ‘Well, we’ll just have to trust it won’t interfere with the process. You appear to have lost a few feathers here and there and your groin is sore. Was it those Tweedles? Really, they are incorrigible. I hope they did no other damage.’
Ruddle eased her limp legs further apart and slid two fingers into her vagina, gently but purposefully exploring the depth and elasticity of her passage. Alice gurgled helplessly as he probed her. Withdrawing his fingers he examined them critically. ‘You lubricate easily, which suggests a healthy, sensuous nature. I’m sure you will make a fine addition to the garden.’ He spoke as though some honour was being bestowed upon her.
Turning her over onto her front he examined her bottom, sliding a finger, still slippery with her vaginal secretion, into her rectum. When he found how pliant her anal ring was he introduced a second and explored her passage to the depth of his knuckles. ‘Your orifices have been well used,’ he pronounced when he finally withdrew, ‘but they retain their natural tightness. All to the good. Now, we must get that collar off.’
Tucking a rag under the back of Alice’s collar for protection, Ruddle found a hacksaw and began sawing away steadily, talking to her as he did so. ‘Hard steel … not the proper material for collars around such pretty necks. Something pliant like good thick rubber, that’s
the
right stuff. Soon have this off you, then I’ll put on a broad buckled strap, so it won’t cut you but you’ll be well supported. Much more comfortable …’
He sounds so kindly, thought Alice, silently raging against her dumb immobility, how can he be doing this to me? Her collar fell open and Ruddle removed the pieces.
As her head was turned to one side she saw Ruddle go to a slatted wooden locker and carefully lift out a tray of a dozen large glossy purple plant bulbs. Selecting one he held it out as though for Alice to admire. ‘My finest creation,’ he said proudly. ‘Femini mutotisflos ruddeli, I’ve named it. It took years of experimentation and crossbreeding, but it’s been worth the effort. You’ll soon see. Just a little sunflower oil to ease it in …’
He ran some oil from a bottle over the bulb, then pried open Alice’s buttocks and pushed the narrow end into her anus, forcing her muscle ring to stretch wide. Alice grunted, then the fattest part of the bulb was past her bottom mouth. Ruddle continued to push it in until it was lodged well up her rectum.
‘Let it bed in for a few minutes,’ he said. ‘I’ll just fit your frame, then I’ll stake you out with the others.’
Ruddle gathered a stout post and two thinner wooden rods from the assortment outside, together with a bundle of black rubber straps with sleeve fastenings that enabled them to form double loops. He arranged Alice so that she lay straight with her legs apart and arms a little way out from her torso, then laid the post on her back and fastened it with straps about her neck and waist, leaving a good length extending beyond her feet. Holes had been drilled through the post at certain intervals, and through these he slid the rods so their ends crossed Alice’s wrists and ankles, which were secured in turn. He passed two longer straps between Alice’s legs so that they lay in the folds either side of her pubes at the tops of her thighs and then ran up along
the
undercurve of her buttocks. These straps were looped over the lower transverse rod and buckled tight.
Ruddle gathered a bottle and metal funnel from a shelf and slipped them into his pocket, picked up Alice and the frame to which she was now securely bound without apparent effort and carried them outside. There was another closed gate to one side of that through which she had entered the greenhouse yard. Ruddle produced a key, unlocked the gate and they passed through into a small walled enclosure with a path running down the middle and flower-beds on either side.
‘Now this is my special garden,’ he said. ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’
Alice gave a despairing gurgle of amazement as she saw what was growing there. Of course they were in the book, but not like this! No … he couldn’t be going to do that to her!
The mouth of a narrow upright pottery pipe protruded from a patch of watered earth ready to accept the base of Alice’s stake. Ruddle slotted it in so she stood securely upright.
‘Now, you need a dose of my special mixture to activate the bulb,’ he explained as he took out the funnel and pushed its curving spout into Alice’s mouth. Unstopping the bottle he poured half of some cloudy fluid down Alice’s throat. She choked and spluttered but felt the bitter burning liquid course through her.
Ruddle smiled. ‘It might make you feel a bit odd at first, but you’ll soon get over it. I’ll be back to check on you later.’
He walked out, closing the gate behind him. The dozen other flowers in the walled garden turned their heads to watch him go, then looked at Alice.
They were girlings strapped to stakes as she was, arranged in two rows along either side of the path. No, they
had
been girlings, she corrected herself. Now they were living flowers.
Their hair had become halos of coloured petals encircling their faces. Rings of smaller petals grew out of their areolae, making pretty flower heads of their prominent nipples. Fans of petals had also replaced their pubic hair. But most grotesquely of all, long thick white roots ran down from between their buttocks and burrowed into the rich earth.
Alice suddenly felt sick and dizzy and jerked feebly at her straps. The effect of the paralysing pollen was wearing off … but too late.
The girlflower staked opposite Alice was looking at her in horror. As Alice groaned she turned her head away and began sobbing.
‘Don’t fight it,’ the girl beside Alice said. ‘I know it’s like a nightmare, but you’re not going mad. You can get used to it. I did.’
Alice’s skin was prickling and her bowels were hot. She felt the bulb in her rectum begin to stir and swell. Her breasts tingled. Struggling to recover the use of her tongue again, Alice said, trying to sound braver than she felt at that moment, ‘I’ve had change potions before … got turned into a bird once …’
The other girl smiled encouragingly. ‘You must tell me about it sometime.’ She had clear dark eyes with well-marked brows, a firm straight nose and neat expressive lips. Her face looked bizarrely pretty within its blossom frame. There were butterflies flitting about her petal-breasts, which were not large but very rounded and prominent, with glistening pointed nipples.
Alice felt her scalp crawl as her hair began to fan out, the strands fusing together. Her nipples were pricking up as soft petals grew out from the edge of her areolae. Her pubic feathers stung for a moment, then also blossomed. The bulb was growing, pushing stems upwards and threading their way through her bowels, while a rootstalk was extending back down her rectum. She gasped as it pushed its way out of her anus with a
frighteningly
sensuous motion and reached downwards for the soil.
‘The worst of it’s almost over,’ her neighbour said. ‘I mean, things will still be crazy, but they won’t happen so quickly.’
The root penetrated the soil and immediately began to thicken. Alice felt it swelling inside her, becoming firmer. A new tingling began in her stomach. Her head felt strange.
‘Do I … do I look like you, yet?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
The girl nodded, her delicate fan of petals gently bobbing as she moved. ‘Yes, you do,’ she said quietly.
Alice screwed up her eyes for a moment. I will not freak out, she told herself. I’ve had worse things happen to me.
‘My name’s Suzanne Ryder,’ the girl said. ‘What’s yours?’
‘Alice Brown.’
Suzanne smiled. ‘Hello, Alice. Is your stomach turning over?’
‘Yes,’ Alice groaned.
‘It’ll settle down after a while,’ Suzanne assured her. ‘Meanwhile let’s get the introductions out of the way. You’re going to get to know us all pretty well …’
Still feeling sick, Alice nodded to the other girlflowers as they were introduced. The young girl opposite was Juliet. She had wide almond eyes, full lips, skin tanned a light golden brown and heavy breasts with large areolae at the centre of their petal rings. Because of her transformation Alice had no idea what colour her hair had been. Her pretty rounded face was tear-streaked and she seemed unable to look at Alice directly.
‘Juliet was the last girl Ruddle brought in,’ Suzanne explained quietly. ‘She’s new to Underland and hasn’t got used to the way things work here yet.’
‘I can hear you,’ Juliet said miserably. ‘This place is mad, it’s evil! I shouldn’t be here. This can’t be
happening
. I want to go home!’ Her last words came as a despairing shriek.
Alice felt sorry for the girl, but she could not even help herself right now. Suzanne called over to her: ‘You know that’s not possible, Julie love. You have to learn to make the best of things.’
Juliet said nothing and turned her head aside.
In a whisper Suzanne confided to Alice, ‘I think it’s harder for her because she’s never been slave-trained. At least the rest of us are used to bondage and we’ve some idea of the things they can do to girlings. Juliet wandered into the garden a week ago and Ruddle caught her. She’s been too confused to explain much, but as far as I can tell she’d only arrived here the day before. She won’t say how but I don’t think she had any idea what she was getting herself into. Most of the girls I’ve met were picked in some way and can fit in. She may be here by accident.’
‘I can see why she’s freaked,’ Alice said. The wave of nausea had largely passed, though she had a sense that something was going on in her stomach. She tried not to think about it. ‘Who is Ruddle? What’s he up to? Does he work for anybody?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘Why does he use the old yokel act?’
Suzanne shrugged as well as her straps allowed. ‘Puts people off their guard, maybe? It certainly fooled me.’
‘Me too,’ Alice admitted. ‘He seemed so easy going. I’d never have guessed he was a head case.’
‘The thing is, in a twisted way, he does care about us,’ Suzanne said. ‘Most of the time he couldn’t be kinder. I think he really believes he’s doing us a favour keeping us here like this.’
‘So what happens now? Do we hang about here for the rest of our lives looking pretty for a flower freak?’
‘No, it’s more complicated than that. We’re meant to be useful as well as decorative. You see, what happens is … oh, he’s back.’
Ruddle came through the gate. He beamed benevolently at the flowergirls as he made his way along the rows, chatting cheerfully to them, stroking their petals and praising the fullness of their breasts. How could he be so considerate yet so blind to what he had done? Alice wondered. Finally he reached her.
‘How are you feeling, Alice?’ he asked gently. ‘The worst of the change should be over by now.’
Alice overcame her natural desire to scream at the man for the outrage he had committed upon her and instead said levelly, ‘This is wrong. You know that. Having a little fun with a few girlings who wander into your garden is one thing, but you’re taking away what we are!’
Ruddle simply smiled benignly, as though excusing a child’s tantrum. ‘You’ll get use to it, Alice. In time you’ll understand that things are better this way. Ask some of the others. In the meantime you’ll be safe in here.’
‘Perhaps we don’t want to be safe all the time!’ Alice said. ‘You can’t hide away from the world and pretend it doesn’t exist. Maybe we’re braver than you are.’
Was there a slight flicker of resentment at her words? Had she touched a sore spot?
Ruddle held something up for Alice to see. ‘Look what I’ve got you.’ It was a small neat sign with her name painted on it mounted on a wooden peg.
‘That’s supposed to make me feel better, is it?’ Alice replied sarcastically. ‘You change me into a freakin’ plant but it doesn’t matter because I’ve got my name on a sign! You know where you can stick it!’
Gravely, Ruddle pushed the sign into the earth beside Alice’s frame. She now saw that all the girls had similar markers by them.