Wonderland Fantasy

by Anne O’Nonymous

 

Part 4

 

On the walls along the cherry wood staircase were more oil and watercolor paintings. I managed to recognize an oil painting of a local lake by its summer canoe rental. At the top, we turned down a carpeted hall and Amy stopped at the third door, politely opening it for me to enter. As I entered, she followed, located a switch and turned on the lights.

The illuminated room had a huge canopied bed, French Provincial furniture, several large dolls scattered around the room, and, on the bed, two pink Baby Doll nightgowns.

"Err, Amy, is this the right room?" I knew the answer, but just wanted confirmation.

"Yep! This is our room," Amy replied, her emphasis on our, "Now, I’m tired. Let’s get you undressed, showered, powdered and bedded down."

I could see by her expression that this was something she would enjoy immensely. First, the pinafore was untied and unbuttoned.

"I tied this bow in a really good knot to make sure it wouldn’t come loose," Amy stated, as she unzipped the blue dress.

The dress went, then, sitting down, the shoes, knee-highs and camisole followed. Standing, Amy helped me out of the petticoats. All but the shoes went into the hamper for washing.

"Hey, a little help here," Amy said, "Be a dear, and undo the zipper on my dress."

I quickly complied, almost tripping in the rush to help. To give Amy some privacy, I decided to shower. A door on the right of the bed led to a private bath. As I entered, I could see various perfumes, hair shampoos and conditioners, and lotions around the sink, ready for use. The sight of a razor and shaving gel seemed to be incongruous, at first. I was struck by the size of the shower stall. It was big enough for four people. I stripped off the last of the clothes, and was about to enter the shower stall when Amy entered.

"Don’t forget your shower cap!" she cried, putting the flowered covering over my head. "Come on, I can wash your back, and you can do mine."

Entering the stall, together, Amy set the water temperature and pulse rate. She soaped up and started on my back, working her way down. I couldn’t wait to repay her favor. Her technique was a delightful massaging of muscles, along with a thorough cleaning. I was so busy enjoying Amy’s ministrations that I failed to hear another person enter the stall.

"Am I too late?" asked Dani.

"No, grab a washrag and clean her face."

Dani started scrubbing the cosmetics off, as Amy work on my lower back. I grabbed a rag, found a cake of Ponds and started working on Dani’s chest. I had to hold up for awhile as I was getting soap in my eyes. After that was taken care of, I washed Amy’s back while she did Dani’s. Well, we washed each other, patted each other dry, and I almost made a mess on the floor, when Amy started washing down between my legs. Outside the stall, I had the privilege of moisturizing and powdering both Amy and Dani, and they returned the compliment. We smelled like a bed of lilacs.

"Amy, I’m glad you thought to get rid of the genital hair," Dani remarked as the three of us, properly towel covered, made our way to the bedroom, "Alice might have a few more revealing outfits to wear."

Dani, dressed herself in a beautiful Peach-colored Waltz length nightgown, walked over, and then sat on the bed beside me. I noticed that she, too, was clean-shaven in the pubic area.

"Dani," I asked, "I have yet to meet the head of Wonderland. Is she coming tomorrow?"

"She’s been here, and you know her very well."

"I DO! JAN? My sister is my boss," I guessed.

"Sort of. Jan and I will be the co-heads of operations as sort of an experiment. Here’s what happened: When the company was bought, its founder ran the whole operation with five assistants. Two of those people left to go elsewhere. Except for ten design personnel, the company will stay where it is as a manufacturing facility. The design people will relocate here, and work with our people."

"And the three assistants?"

"One will stay and run the company; the other two are in design," Dani informed me.

"Now for your education," Amy said as she walked over to the bureau and retrieved some items. She held them up so I could see them. It was a strip of five of condoms.

"I’m glad you’re a virgin. It means you don’t have anything to unlearn, and can be taught the right way," Dani stated in a matter-of-fact fashion. "Amy, assume the position."

Amy stripped, got on the bed and spread her legs as wide as she could. She had a beautiful, well-developed body with a light tanning, and two stunning breasts. Her body was completely devoid of hair. I just adored this lovely woman.

Dani opened a condom pack, took one out, and indicated she would put it on me. In her hand, my erection grew as she slowly rolled the elastic material down the shaft. She explained that it was pre-lubricated.

"That’s to prevent accidents – of various kinds," Dani remarked. "Some men suffer from pre-ejaculation."

As I dressed in the Baby Doll, I remembered the Sex Education classes in school; there were none. Usually taught by a Phys. Ed. teacher, he would start and a few rowdies would be making asinine comments, asking silly questions or something else to disrupt those who really wanted to learn. This would happen over and over, ’til the teacher would say, "That’s it. I’ve had enough. Sit, be quiet and not a peep out of you." This would go on week after week. So, Sex Ed. was a joke. You learned from your peers or books or not at all.

Dani sat me down on Amy’s right and she sat on the left. "Okay, let us begin." Using my hand, she trace out on Amy her clitoris, perineum, the labia, and vaginal opening, using the correct name for each. My fingers were inserted far enough to locate the "G-spot," and I was instructed on how to massage it to pleasure my partner at the time. (I noted the word "Partner," meaning two equals, each doing a service for the other.) Next came the breasts – kissing, massaging, kneading, even nibbling and sucking them. Kissing was next. I thought it was just on the lips, but was soon corrected – it was all over. A light kiss on the forehead, the cheeks, the earlobe, nose, lips, neck, arms, wrist, working down to the breasts, the areolas, and the genital area, slowly, gently, in a nice easy fashion. For a man, his erogenous zone seemed to be his penis; in a woman, on the other hand, it seems to be the whole body.

"The trouble with most men is they rush! It’s like they have a train to catch," Dani said, "Remember the vulgar word for a female’s genitals – sn--ch?"

"I remember, vaguely."

"Well, the word means ‘to seize hastily,’ and that’s how they feel about it – it’s a quick possession," she remarked. "Think of it this way: women want love, men want sex, and they are two entirely separate entities."

Dani had Amy move over to sit on the edge of the bed. I was to kneel in front, something like in a position of worship. Then, under Dani’s tutelage, I was instructed on how to excite Amy using fingers, tongue and lips.

Now I understood why men liked fellatio. The woman would be kneeling to him, a position of worship, and he would be standing over her, in a position of dominance. One subordinate to the other is not love in my book.

During this "lesson," there was a time when I thought I had accidentally bitten her, as her body was quivering, and she was moaning and screaming something. I held off for a minute, and inquired, "If I hurt you, I’m really sorry, I’m new at this."

"Honey, if you’re new at this, I can’t wait ’til you’re really good," was Amy’s reply.

"Well, I think we’ve had enough lessons for tonight. Let Amy get dressed for bed."

"I need to wash again, I’m really wet!"

"Dani, there are more instructions?"

She looked at me, grinned, and replied, "Honey, every time you make love, not have sex, it’s a different experience. We, Amy and I, will teach you the basics – then you’ll learn more with each encounter. Just think on this – making love should be a pleasurable occupation, not something you feel you must do. Each person must experience the other’s pleasure. Keep three things in mind: It’s caress, not possess; be playful, it’s not work; and, mutual pleasure should be the uppermost thought."

I thought that she was right. Here, I had not entered Amy, nor did I mount her (like she was a brood mare), but I did have a most enjoyable experience. Could it be that in giving her contentment I was, in turn, taking my bliss in the mere act of seeing her enjoyment? There seems to be a loop operating here: I give pleasure, my partner takes it in and is happy, and that happiness gives me satisfaction and makes me want to do more for her.

So, there we were: three tired, happy, people all curled up together in bed, legs and arms tangled in some strange Gordian knot. I know I was feeling especially great having had a taste of Amy’s sweet, lovely body. I can’t wait for another session!

Ultimately, morning came, and we had to untangle to get up. I found a pair of pink slippers, and matching robe. Dani was already in an attractive multicolored, waist-length robe, white Malibu slippers and waiting for us. I shook Amy awake, and was greeted with a lovely smile, and, "Is it morning already?"

A quick wash to wake us up and we were ready. Each of us, in turn, used the facilities for its designed purpose. Since I was now accepted into this group, I thought nothing of using the toilet (sitting, of course) while Amy washed her hands. In fact, I found it curious that I had accepted this change so easily, possibly because it was to my actual benefit. Meeting Claudia, Amy, Dani, the sex lesson, and the dressing all seemed to be changes for the better.

"Come on, get a move on! Breakfast is waiting," Dani said emphatically as she walked to the door.

"We’re coming," Amy replied, following, with me to the rear.

Another feast awaited us in the house dining area. The various pastel-colored robes and gowns were a treat to see. After "Good Mornings" all around, Jan directed me to a seat next to Claudia, Jan took a seat to my right and Dani sat on Claudia’s left.

"Did you sleep well last night," Claudia inquired of me.

"Eventually, yes I did."

"The excitement of the day’s events were a little tiring to Alice," Amy interceded for me, "But in due course, she did get a good night’s rest."

"Good! I was hoping you ladies didn’t have too many extracurricular activities planned."

Dani started snickering, then replied, "She had a few necessary instructions in her new life."

Now let me describe breakfast: eggs scrambled in butter with bacon bits, peppers, chopped ham and onions; ham steaks; sliced tomatoes; sausage links and patties; hash browns or home fries; English muffins or whole wheat toast; grapefruit juice and/or OJ; herbal or green tea; and coffee. I managed to eat quite well.

While drinking my coffee, I asked Claudia, "Your daughters are married, yet I haven’t seen their husbands."

"They’re out at a bankers convention this weekend. They sell banking, accounting and financial software. Their office is on the fourth floor, in the front."

"Ma’am, we better get Alice dressed for today," Amy said. "They’re coming at ten."

Who was coming at ten?

We took our leave of Claudia and made our way back upstairs to "our" room, "we" meaning Jan, Amy, Dani and myself. Jan put out my clothing for that day.

Now in dressing, I was pretty much on my own. First was a pale green satin 35B bra and matching panties. Again, the panties had a lacy touch. As I still was not too flexible, Dani fastened the hooks and eyes of the bra for me. The garter belt confused me for a bit – "Does it go under or over the panties?" – then I realized that it would slip on the smooth panty fabric and under would make it easier for those calls to nature. Ahah, chalk one up for me! Anyway, Amy pulled down the panties, fastened the supporter around my waist and adjusted the garters. Spoilsport, I wanted to do that! (Oh, really? Amy was more fun.) A lacy V-neck white satin camisole was next. (For some reason, I was beginning to truly enjoy the feel of silk and satin. They seemed to arouse some deep centers of pleasure in me.)

As I checked the nails, the coral-blush polish looked to be in good shape and there did not appear to be any rough spots to snag nylons on. (I’m a big girl now – I get to wear stockings!) Carefully I rolled up the brown (I think Jan called the color Taupe.) material and put my toes in. These were seamed stockings, so I knew they were right side out. Working the hose up my legs was another pleasing sensation, only it was spoiled. The stockings appeared to be wrinkled and the seam turned on my leg.

"Having trouble?" Dani asked.

"Yeah. I’ve seen Jan do this and it looked so easy. I’ve got the seam crooked and I could use help," I pleaded.

"Sure, little sister. Roll the stockings down and adjust the seam at the heel. When you pull them up, you can unroll them easier using both hands to keep your seam straight. It’s kind of like caressing your legs using your hands – here I’ll show you."

Taking the covered leg, Dani demonstrated the technique. It did appear to be a massage of the leg muscles. Again, it seemed so easy.

"Okay, hold your leg out straight and I’ll fasten the garters," she said.

I did as she requested, and watched as another feminine art was revealed. I managed to get the other leg covered, the seam pretty straight and the garters fastened.

"Keep that up, and I’ll enter you in the Junior Miss America Pageant," Jan said with a giggle.

"Little sister is doing quite well, don’t you think?" Amy said in my defense.

"Oh, it’s little sister now."

"Amy and I adopted her," was Dani’s retort.

"Ladies, I think it’s getting close to ten o’clock." I was still in underwear with my curiosity piqued about who was coming.

Amy, now dressed, came over and said, "No makeup. I’m going down to set up the equipment." She waved her fingers good-bye as she left.

A lacy-hemmed half-slip, a pale lemon V-neck silk blouse and a pleated plaid skirt later, I was almost ready. Jan handed me something to put over my feet before I put my shoes on. (I think she called them "Peds," or is that a candy?)

"What are these for?" I asked.

"It prevents your foot from sliding out of your shoes. If your feet have a tendency to sweat, they absorb the moisture rather than your shoes," Dani replied.

Last, but not least, the shoes. I wonder how women maintain their sanity with so many choices: Mary Janes, Spectators, Open-Toed Pumps, Espadrilles, Sandals, Penny Loafers, just to name a few. (I put on Oxfords, Loafers, or Sneaks and I’m ready to go.) What to wear with what will be major decisions that I, also, will soon be required to make. The right shoe for the right dress for the right occasion; no wonder females almost always ask, "Where are we going?" Gee, this is really going to be an experience I’ll remember. Jan came to my rescue.

"Here’s a nice pair of pumps that will go nicely with your blouse," she said, handing me the shoes. They were lemon-colored, had a single strap across the instep, and matched the color of my blouse. Funny to think "my blouse" when only two days ago I wouldn’t even come near any of this stuff. Oh well, a job is a job!

I slipped on the shoes, buckled them and stood up. Jan then led me over to the vanity where I was seated so she could brush my hair. There were times when I brushed Jan’s hair, and I found it to be most erotic. It seemed to be a time of real bonding between brother and sister, With that accomplished, a hair band was next, followed the locket I treasured. Dani supplied me with a Bolero jacket and I was ready. I don’t remember walking down the stairs, as I was looking at the paintings almost like it was the first time.

With Dani and Jan beside me, I walked, or glided, into the front room. There, a frightening scene came into view!

A bit of an explanation: in Junior High School, I was not popular with girls; in fact, girls teased me more than the boys. I was a loner, just surviving to get an education. Now here I faced what was my worst nightmare: thirteen- and fourteen-year-old girls. Twelve of them!

"Now, girls, I would like you all to meet the newest member of the Chantel family, Alice," Amy said as an introduction. "She will be the model for all Wonderland products, and my model for today. Alice, these young ladies are all daughters of employees of Chantel."

Well, what to do? I smiled, waved "Hi" and waited for Amy’s direction. I mean after all, that was long, long ago -- back in the days when I was almost a man. I was now one of them!

Amy directed me to a rather high seat while motioning the girls to gather around. I could see Jan on the edge of the group. Seeing made me feel a lot safer for some reason. Amy started right in.

"One of the most important details of good make up is that your face be clean," she said as she showed a bottle of skin cleanser, "and there are many good products to use. I happen to prefer this one."

As she was making her spiel, she opened the bottle, moistened a cotton ball thoroughly and started working on my face. It felt cool, as she wiped it across my face. After each was used, she showed it to the audience.

"Dirt and soap residue in your pores gets trapped under any covering you put on, and if you don’t get it cleaned off, you wind up with skin problems; for example, pimples."

I sat there, letting Amy work, fascinated by what she was saying. I wondered why more men didn’t take care of their skin. She showed me the crud that she was getting off. This continued until she was satisfied it was clean enough.

"Okay, I think Alice is ready. Whatever foundation you use, use it as lightly as necessary. It’s a base to cover those small natural blemishes, to hide them away from the world. In this case, less is more."

Now she started on the model. Her fingers placed a small dab of liquid on my skin, and she worked it over the face almost like a facial massage. The girls were following her every move. Jan handed me a mirror so I could also observe the proceedings. It was by chance that I opened my mouth to ask, "Would this be appropriate for both day or night?"

"Good question, Alice. It depends on where you’re going, the kind of lighting there, and the time of day," Amy replied, continuing, "Young ladies shouldn’t use too much make up. That, in my opinion, is their biggest mistake."

The rest of the time was taken up with blush, lip liner, lipstick, lip gloss, and eye "make up." By the time she was finished, I was amazed at the resultant product. I was actually beautiful – I actually felt beautiful.

"Miss Amy, ma’am, will I look that good?" asked one of the group, and "Ma’am, she’s pretty," came from a cute blonde. (Funny, but I still noticed the attractive girls – even a young as these. Can’t be that much wrong with me!) Even Jan got into the act with, "Hey, little sister, you’ll be fighting the boys off," then whispered, "or, in your case, the girls."

"And there you have it, properly done, makeup can enhance the natural beauty that is in all of you," Amy said in closing. "Now, I’ll remove the material from Alice; you girls can pair up, practice with each other, and I’ll give you a critique on your efforts. Alice, would you work with, emmm, Joyce?"

Amy pointed to a pretty brunette, the daughter of one of the vice presidents I met yesterday. We found a place on the floor and got comfortable and went to work. Joyce took the cleanser and worked over my face, and then I returned the compliment. She was a little rougher than Amy, and realizing it, she inquired, "Sorry, am I too rough? I’m not used to this."

"No, that’s okay. I think a mirror would help, though." I got up, located a magnifying mirror to use and went back to Joyce. Getting down again was a bit of a chore, what with having to keep everything in it place. Now there we were, two future Grand Dames working on our coming-out presentation. As I worked with the cosmetics, Joyce evaluated the efforts; in return, I did the same for her. As we worked, we talked.

"My mother saw you yesterday. She said you looked so pretty in your blue dress and all. She wants me to dress like that," Joyce remarked.

"Well, why not? Don’t you like feeling pretty?"

"With all that stuff on! I prefer a pair of pants and shirt, any day."

"So, you would rather be a boy? Run around in icky boxers, smell bad, have a dirty face, and do nothing but play. Is that it?"

"No, I just think. . ."

"Well, that’s what you are implying," I interrupted. "If you want to be pretty, you must think pretty. Boys aren’t pretty."

"But they have it so good. After breakfast, my brother disappears. He goes and plays basketball all day, while I wash dishes, make beds, do laundry and, well you know."

"Sorry, I don’t. My brother and I shared chores. Now, if you used your feminine wiles, I’m sure you could get him to do almost anything. After all, there must be a few things that are too heavy for you…." I didn’t go any further, as the seed was planted. All she had to do was to play up to his masculinity.

Meanwhile, Amy had made her way over and was looking over our efforts.

"Hey, Great Job! You see how much help a good mirror can be. Joyce, your lipstick looks great, but a little lighter on the blush next time. Alice, real nice, except I think you could use a shade lighter eye shadow. Girls, you can experiment with these ideas until you find out what works for you. Good work on both your parts."

Using the mirror, I could actually see that she was right. Now that’s a revelation! A few days ago, I wouldn’t have cared, now I can see how each part works with the other. This feminine thing seems to be like a huge jigsaw puzzle with hundreds of pieces, all fitting together.

"Okay, ladies, you all look great, and I want to congratulate each of you on your efforts," announced Amy, "Just remember, when it comes to makeup, there are no hard rules – each of you is unique – and now, fashions."

 

To be continued.

Annie O

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Ann O'Nonymous. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.