Alice: Slave at the Marketplace (3 page)

Samuel picks up two Easter eggs from the cart
and inserts them one after the other into my vagina.

“These are real eggs, hard-boiled, so don’t
squeeze them too hard or they will crack,” he warns.

The eggs are large ones – oval, firm and cool
as they slide into my pussy. They are larger in diameter than the
average cock, and my vaginal tunnel has to stretch to accommodate
them. They feel like solid balls in my pussy.

“Now we are going to make you part of the
décor,” Samuel says.

“Am I going to be a flower?” I say
sarcastically.

“No, you’re going to be an Easter surprise.”
He motions to a bush. “Get behind there.”

How surprising can a bush be? I get up.

“No, don’t straighten yourself,” Samuel
cautions. “The eggs might slide out. Just walk on your hands and
knees and follow me.”

It is an uncomfortable exercise, but I trudge
after him on all fours to round the bush. I spy at least two Easter
eggs perched in between the branches. At least the verdant carpet
grass is soft.

A stone table awaits me behind the bush. Four
Easter eggs nestle at the foot of it.

“Climb on that and lie on your back. Spread
your legs.”

I do so, spreading my thighs for him to see.
Samuel gazes at my enticing pussy, noting the bottom half of the
blue and green speckled egg that must have been showing at its
aperture.

“Stone surprise?” I say drily.

He guffaws. “I find your sense of humor
refreshing, though I can’t say the Mistresses will. That will earn
you a cuff from Karen, for sure.”

Another woman comes in. I recognize her as
one of the harried staff putting decorative touches on the girls
out there. She carries a small tray of pastries and little jars
filled with what I presume is foodstuff.

“Busy morning, Stephanie?” Samuel
inquires.

“Like the pits,” Stephanie grumbles. “The
johns misbehaved and tried to mount the rabbits. We made it very
clear that this Easter Egg hunt is not a mounting exercise. That is
for the other attractions.”

Stephanie peruses my pussy and nods
approvingly.

“Still tight, this one. Stay still,” she
orders me.

She squats between my legs and busies herself
with the tray of pies. The pies are small – about three inches in
diameter – and they emit an aroma of freshly baked crust. Stephanie
displays a knife, and my heart stops.

“Relax,” Samuel tells me. “It’s for the
pie.”

Stephanie makes a few deft cuts into the
bottom of one of the pies, and places it upon the shoal of my
pussy. The manipulated crust embeds itself in between my labia and
clit. Shuddering sensations emit from my clit as the pastry kneads
and squeezes it.

Stephanie pats the pie into place and ensures
it is well balanced.

“If you do anything to make it fall off, I’ll
stick an electric prod up your ass,” she threatens me.

Nice manners, these.

Samuel takes in my look of alarm.

“Relax,” he says. “Steph just woke up on the
wrong side of somebody else’s bed this morning.”

“You bet I did. One of the horses . . .
what’s his name? Caleb? Cain? He has a cock like a bull. I’m still
sore from all that pounding.”

Steph stands up and admires her
handiwork.

“Nice. I’ll bet you had a go at that pussy,
Sam.”

“Sweet and tight, as expected.”

“Yeah, I can see she’s got you curled around
her little finger. You’ve got to stop fraternizing with the farm
animals or they’ll cut your bleeding heart right out of you.” To
me, she hisses, “Don’t move.”

Then she strides away.

Samuel says, “Stay right here, Alice. Easter
Egg hunt is about to begin.”

He makes to move away, but I call out to him,
my breasts heaving, “Wait! What’s going to happen to me?”

He pauses at the side of the bush. “I’m not
supposed to fraternize with you, remember?”

He laughs and leaves me all alone to my wild
imagination.

4

The loudspeakers sound even before I have
time to adjust my expectations.

“Welcome, welcome to all you treasure
hunters!” says a disembodied female voice with a clipped English
accent. “Just look around, take in the glorious sights, indulge
your senses and enjoy. Remember, you are only allowed to use your
hands and your mouths. No penetration of any of the girls’
genitalia by any instruments, including your penises, is
allowed.”

There is a rush of footsteps into the
tent.

No penetration? Now I understand Stephanie’s
remark.

The voice on the loudspeaker continues:

“During your Easter egg hunt, there is one
egg in particular you will be looking for. But you won’t be able to
recognize it from the outside. In that egg, a surprise inside
awaits you. All eggs must be brought back to the podium and we will
have to crack each one to find the surprise.”

My heart skips a beat. I wonder if any of the
eggs rolling inside of me contain the surprise they are speaking
of. Does it mean I am special?

“If you encounter any edible barriers to the
eggs, you would have to consume the entire pastry. Failure to do so
will lead to forfeit of five eggs. The first contestant to collect
the most eggs through these barriers wins a prize, and the
contestant who finds the special egg will be given a special
treat.”

There is a murmur which runs at the other
side of the tent, as if all the contestants are poised and
ready.

“In twenty minutes, we will ring the bell for
you to stop collecting eggs. So we’d best get going. Are you
ready?”

There is a collective manly chorus of
“YES!”

“Are you truly ready?”

“YES!”

“Well then, contestants. On your marks, get
set, go!”

A scuffle of shoes ensues.

I wait, all my muscles on red alert. I wonder
how long it would take for someone to find me. Exclamations of
surprise and pleasure punctuate the air closer to the entrance,
indicating that some of the girls have already been ‘found’.

I do not have to wait long, apparently.

A man comes around the bush. He is naked but
for a thong which delineates his erection. He is in his thirties, I
suppose. Raven-haired. Barrel-chested. Stocky. He carries a basket
with a dozen eggs rolling within it. His left bicep is adorned with
a black elastic armband which displays the number ‘5’.

His eyes light up as he sees my proffered
pussy, all covered in its pie.

“Ah, delicious!” he proclaims. “Would you be
the surprise now?”

I am wondering that myself. I smile up at him
to encourage him.

He kneels down between my legs, just as
Stephanie has done.

“Now what do we have here?”

I wonder if I am allowed to speak to the
contestants. I decide I don’t care.

“Eggs,” I reply sassily.

He smiles at me. “A chipper, aren’t you?” He
has a decidedly Australian accent. “Now let’s see. I have to finish
my pie like a good boy, don’t I now?”

I smile at him again. He lowers his mouth to
my crust-covered pussy and starts to eat it. I don’t know what’s
inside the pie, and I think of asking him, but he is so absorbed in
nibbling and biting and chewing and slurping that I don’t want to
disturb him.

His tongue and teeth soon reach my clit and
labia. He grazes my erotic bits with his teeth, and I gasp.

He looks up. “I’d love to eat all of you, but
I have to be getting to the eggs.”

“So take them,” I say.

His fingers delve into my pussy and nudge the
outermost egg.

“Tight fit,” he observes.

“Suck them out,” I urge him.

“Good idea.” He gazes at me with new
light.

He opens his mouth and places it on my vulva
this time, and sucks. His cheeks hollow as he makes a slurping
sound. I can feel the eggs being suctioned out of my passage. It is
a strange sensation, akin to a string of sex beads being pulled
out.

He takes out the first egg from his mouth and
shows it to me.

“Are you the surprise?”

I shake my head lightly. “I wouldn’t
know.”

He sucks the other egg out in the same
manner.

“I would love to get to know you better,” he
says regretfully, “but I have a contest to win.”

“Go win it,” I say.

Smiling, he puts the two eggs from my pussy
into the basket and scoops up the other ones by the base of the
rock.

“Bye,” he says, and vanishes around the
bush.

It is all I can do but wait till the entire
hunt is finished. The loudspeakers keep us abreast of the
happenings.

“And Contestant 13 is racing ahead. Our spies
tell us he has collected twenty-one eggs already and is racing to
get more!”

“Now Contestant 21 is a true challenger! He
has amassed thirty eggs and he’s seeking that special one that will
make a difference. But can Contestant 5 be a dark horse in this
hunt? He has just discovered a secret cache of fifteen eggs all in
one place!”

Number Five! My Australian suitor!

A couple of other contestants stumble upon me
in my little hideaway, noting the crumbs left on my pussy.

I tell them, “Sorry, but the well is dry,
boys.”

They seem disappointed as they turn to race
away.

The whole thing is so bizarre and ridiculous
that I start laughing. I keep on laughing in my prone position,
unable to stop. I am sure the cameras hovering above me are
capturing my little transgression, but Mistress Karen can poke me
with her prod for all I care. I still can’t stop laughing.

Finally, the bell rings with a clanging sound
that reverberates throughout the entire tent and makes me want to
clap my hands to my ears. The hunt is over. The contestants are
told to return with their goodies to the podium for the egg
count.

As the count begins, Samuel comes to me.

“Had a good time?” he asks me.

“I could do with a bit more licking and
sucking,” I reply, “but maybe you can indulge me tonight.”

“Getting bold, are we now?” He wags his
finger. “Don’t cross the line or I will be forced to tattle to
Karen about you.”

I make a face, which he catches and laughs.
He gives me a hand to pull me up.

“What happens now?” I ask.

“We wait for the count to finish, and then
you are off to your next assignment.”

“I have a next assignment?” I squeak. “I
don’t get a break?”

He relents. “OK, maybe just a little toilet
break.”

“But I’m starving.”

It’s the truth. All those cakes and pastries
are positively making my stomach growl. I hardly had any breakfast
because I was trying to watch my weight. I had honestly thought
that they would feed us at the market, but we are surrounded by all
this food and I am scarcely getting a nibble!

He looks furtively around him, spots the
camera mounted on a structure near the top, and shields my body
from it.

“OK.” He takes out an Easter egg from the
pocket of his dungarees. “I swiped one. You can have it.”

I take the egg eagerly.

“Peel it and eat it quickly,” he cautions,
his expression seeming anxious.

My hands fumble and almost drop the egg as I
attempt to crack it. I must admit I am not very good at peeling
hardboiled eggs. I usually have them cracked and peeled for me. And
so I chip away at the eggshell. My nails are no longer long and
French manicured.

“Hurry,” Samuel says urgently.

There are still flakes of eggshells sticking
on the white egg which is revealed, but I pop the whole thing in my
mouth and crunch it in two bites of my molars. I swallow the thing.
The huge lump almost gets stuck in my throat and I burst into a fit
of coughing.

The loudspeaker blares again: “And now, for
the final tally. With a grand total of fifty-eight eggs, the winner
is Contestant Number 13!”

“Damn.” I did kind of like my rugged
Australian.

“And the winner of the special egg is . . .
Contestant Number 5!”

I knew it! I knew the special egg was inside
my pussy! I am virtually beaming with glee, which amuses
Samuel.

“Liked him, didn’t you?” he says.

“He gave good head,” I reply affably.

“And I don’t?”

“To be honest, Samuel, I have never received
head from you. You merely fucked me from behind.”

“That’s true.”

The MC is saying again: “And for Contestant
number five’s special reward, you’ll get to fulfill your kinkiest
fantasies with any of our ripe girls . . . or boys. How do you feel
about that?”

I can hear the Australian accent of my suitor
saying: “Only one girl?”

The MC laughs. “But of course, if you require
more than one girl, we would be happy to accommodate.”

“It’s all right. I only want one girl. I want
the girl I found the special egg in. The sassy one.”

My heart leaps. So he did take special notice
of me.

The MC oooohs coquettishly. “Got your eye on
that one, haven’t you? So tell all of us here, what’s your special
fantasy involving that sassy girl?”

I strain my ears to listen. But all I can
hear is the MC saying next: “Ah, Contestant Number 5 does not wish
his kinkiest fantasies to be made public. However, he has already
whispered it into my ear, and we certainly can fulfill that
request.”

Damn! I want to know what he has in mind for
me.

Samuel says, “I guess I’ll have to go find
out what they’ve planned for you. You seem to be the lucky one.
I’ll be back.”

I grin at him, my mind full and my body ripe
for all the kinky fantasies someone will want to do to me.

5

When Samuel comes back for me, he is still
mum about what Number Five has in mind for me.

“Come,” he says simply.

Once again, he helps me don my red cloak.

“Where am I going?” I demand. I’m feeling a
lot bolder with Contestant No. 5 obviously having the hots for
me.