Warning: This story is intended to be erotic/pornographic, although there is
little actual sex. However, as well as breast enlargement it contains some
of my other favourite fetishes. Do not read it if it would be illegal in your
country of residence for you to do so or if you are under age.


Alice in Pornoland  by Hot Dog  - Part 2
------------------


5: Imprisoned in Black Latex - F Cup.

The walk to the cottage was uneventful. Alice knocked on the front door,
but there was no response. The door appeared to be locked, but on going
round the back she found that the back door was open. Stepping inside,
she found herself in the kitchen. There was a large piece of cheese on
a plate on the kitchen table. Seeing it, Alice realised that she was
both hungry and thirsty; it must have been at least six hours since she
had last had anything to eat or drink.

Although she realised that eating or drinking anything could have any
manner of strange effects in this peculiar world, since she had no
immediate prospect of returning home she felt that she had little
alternative but to risk it. Besides, there was a little corner of her
mind that felt a thrill at the prospect of the peculiar things
that might happen to her. She ate the cheese, and found some milk and
drank it. She was almost disappointed to find that this appeared to have
no effect beyond sating her hunger and thirst.

Her next priority, she realised, had to be to find something to wear.
She did not want to have to go around with her breasts hanging out,
though she realised that finding a top that would go over them could be
tricky. Exploring the cottage further, she found a bedroom with a large
wardrobe. Looking inside, she found a shiny black latex jumpsuit that she
hoped might stretch sufficiently to cover her seven boobs. When she put
it on, she found that it fit well, but that her boobs expanded again.
Damn! She had thought that that would only happen with outfits in the club.
If it happened with any outfit she put on in this world, she was going
to have increasing problems. Her original two boobs had swelled enough
to add one inch to her conventional bust measurement, but matters were
made worse because the other five had swelled proportionately. That was
another couple of pounds she had to carry round, she supposed, though
in fact she still couldn't feel the weight. Looking in a full-length
mirror after zipping up the jumpsuit, she noted that it fit her as though
it were moulded on, with all seven breasts - and even her nipples, which she
realised had been erect ever since she gained her extra breasts - being
sharply defined. It covered everything except her head and her hands, even
her feet.

The shoes she had been wearing were not practical over the latex (they
kept slipping off her feet), but she found a pair of bright red,
knee-length, tight-fighting rubber boots, which she struggled into. (Her
initial idea on seeing the cottage that it might belong to some little
old lady had long since been dispelled.) "All I want is a whip,"
thought Alice, "and I'd be ready for a rematch with Donna the
Dominatrice!"

Her musing was interrupted by feeling a flexing in the material of the
jumpsuit. Looking down she saw that what was causing this was that the
latex on either side of the zip, which ran from neck to navel of the suit,
was pulling together. Within a second or two the zip had disappeared,
and the latex across her front was seamless. How was she ever going to
get the suit off again? 


6: Splosh - Still F Cup!

Worse, Alice realised that her bladder was uncomfortably full. Perhaps
that milk had been a mistake. She found the bathroom, but since she
could figure out no way of removing the jumpsuit that did not help very
much. An attempt to cut it with scissors had no effect, and when she went
back to the kitchen to get a sharp kitchen knife all she managed to do
was to blunt the knife. The material might look like latex, but it seemed
impervious to anything she tried to cut it with.

She was hopping from foot to foot by this time, and realised that she had
no alternative but to pee in her suit. She hoped the material was as
impervious as it looked; she would hate to leave a puddle on the floor.
Letting herself go, she felt a great relief. However, she then realised she
seemed to be urinating with unusual force; it felt like it was coming out
from a hosepipe. After 30 seconds or so she realised that the duration was
also unusual. She tried to stop, but now it had started she seemed unable
to cut off the flow. Her feet were now beginning to made sploshing noises
whenever she took a step. She could feel the warmth of the liquid - surely
the quantity was too great for it really to be urine? - telling her that
it was now up to her knees. She wasn't surprised that the suit appeared to
be totally waterproof.

After about 5 minutes the liquid had risen to the neck-seal, which
(like the seals at her wrists) unfortunately also appeared to be leakproof.
She noticed that the liquid had had one effect upon the suit, though. It
had turned it transparent. She could see that the liquid was a clear amber
colour; it certainly looked like piss.

Her flow continued with unabated force, and she could feel the pressure
of the fluid in the suit beginning to increase. The suit began to stretch
outwards, except below her knees, where the boots prevented it from doing so.
Soon she began to resemble the Michelin Man. The suit was now
touching her skin in very few places as the rising pressure forced it
outwards. Fifteen minutes later, and the swelling at her thighs had forced her to
stand with feet wide apart. Walking was clearly impossible; shuffling was the
best she could manage if she did not wish to overbalance. She estimated the
suit's waist measurement at not less than 60 inches. The swelling of the arms of
its arms meant that bending her elbows was impossible. Any sudden movement
would send a wave around the suit with a splosh, threatening to tip her off her
feet. Just when Alice thought that things could get no worse, she heard
someone open the front door.

7: Conversation With The Rabbit - Still F Cup!

It proved to be none other than the White Rabbit, who came to a surprised stop
when he saw her. "I've been looking all over for you," he said, "and here you
are in my own home. You'll have to be punished for running off like that...But
on second thoughts, looking at you, perhaps you already have been." And he
grinned broadly.

"Please help me," Alice pleaded, at the same time wondering why the Rabbit had
had a black latex jumpsuit in his wardrobe. The Rabbit leaned forward and, to
Alice's surprise, gave her left ear a painful twist as if turning a tap.
The flow immediately cut off. "It must have been the shock," Alice rationalised
to herself. "Come into the bathroom and get in the shower," instructed the
Rabbit. "I don't want my carpets ruined." With some difficulty, Alice managed
to comply. The Rabbit gave her ear another twist, and Alice found that where
the liquid had been gushing out it was now being sucked in at a tremendous
rate. The dimensions of the suit did not seem to be reducing, however. Alice
realised that all that fluid had to go somewhere; instead of being between her
skin and the suit, it was increasingly being drawn inside her and swelling her
out. She was not sure that this was an improvement! Soon it was her waist, rather
than merely the suit's, that measured 60 inches.

The Rabbit then twisted her other ear, and Alice found she was doing
an impression of one of those statues you sometimes see in the middle of
garden ponds, with a great stream of water emerging with some force from her
mouth. Soon she was back to her normal size. The Rabbit could now clearly see
her seven breasts, assisted by the transparency of the suit. "Here's a little
maths problem for you," he said. "If you have seven F-cup breasts, what size
of cup would that equate to if you only had the normal two, assuming equal
volume of breast-flesh? You may assume your breasts are perfect hemispheres."
Alice did not reply; maths was not her favourite subject.

Instead she said: "This seems very different from the Wonderland that my ancestor
experienced. And you also seem very different, assuming you are the same White
Rabbit." "Well, Wonderland changes from time to time, and those within it
change too. It's been Pornoland for several years now, and we've all changed
accordingly. In fact, if you stay here any length of time it will change you
too - mentally, I mean, not just in the obvious physical ways. Actually, I
suspect the change has already begun." A chill ran down Alice's spine at this.
"When you first got here you were appalled, yes?" Alice nodded. "And now you
feel a little intrigued, almost eager, to find out what will happen to you next?"
Again Alice had to admit he was right. "In a day or so, maybe less, you will be
the exhibitionist slut that all pretty girls rapidly become here." Alice had a
nasty feeling that the Rabbit might be telling the truth.

"Now," said the Rabbit, "you've still got your set at the club to finish, but
it's only 3pm now, and the club doesn't reopen till 8." "But," objected Alice,
"it can't possibly be 3 pm." "Time runs differently here. As the hours from 1 am
till lunch-time are of no use to anyone, we've done away with them. 1 pm follows
immediately on 1 am. Nobody needs to sleep here, except the Dormouse, so it's no
hardship. While we wait for the club to open, I suggest I take you to tea at
The Mad Hatter's." "Not dressed like this," objected Alice, but she was already
being dragged out of the front door.

8: "Clothes Don't Grow on Trees" - G Cup

The Rabbit hustled Alice across the meadow and into a wood on the far side of it.
"I wish I wasn't wearing this horrid jumpsuit," Alice again complained. "Oh,
that's easily remedied," replied the Rabbit. He whistled, as if to a dog, and
said: "Home!". To Alice's surprise, the jumpsuit seemed to detach itself from
her body. It hovered in the air, shaped itself into the semblance of wings, 
and flittered off back towards the cottage like some giant black bat.

"But now I'm naked," wailed Alice. "Some people are never satisfied," said
the Rabbit. "In any case, you're still wearing the boots. Clothes don't grow
on trees, you know. Hmm, on second thoughts, that's not totally true. We'll
make a little detour."

After five minutes or so they arrived at a clearing. In the middle of it was
a large tree. Attached to the branches of the tree, apparently growing from
them, were a large number of women's outfits. Unfortunately all those on the
lower branches, the ones which could be reached without needing to climb the
tree, appeared to be either very skimpy or very fetishistic. The ones higher
up looked a lot more modest.

"I don't suppose you'd climb the tree for me?" asked Alice. "Whoever heard of
a rabbit climbing trees," replied the Rabbit, and Alice had to admit he had
a point. So Alice decided she would have to climb the tree herself. The tree
was not very easy to climb, and the seven large breasts attached to Alice's
chest did not make it any easier. Still, she managed fairly well. Soon she
was able to ease herself along a branch some ten feet off the ground, at the
end of which was what looked to be a fairly respectable black dress.

Unfortunately, as she edged her way along the branch, sitting astride it,
it began to sag. She could not safely go any further. The dress was only
some four feet away now, though, and she leaned forward to try to grab it.
Disaster! She overbalanced and fell. She hit her head on landing, and lost
consciousness.

When Alice fuzzily regained her senses she felt rather strange. She went
to move her hand to rub her forehead, but couldn't. Panicking, she opened
her eyes. "Ah, good, you're conscious," said the Rabbit. "You've broken
almost every bone in your body falling from that tree. They'll mend in a
matter of hours here, but in the meantime I've put you in a cast." Alice
was indeed almost totally encased in plaster. The only parts that were left
uncovered were her head and neck, her hands, her feet, for some reason her
pubic area, and her seven breasts. Alice could move her neck enough to see
that her breasts again looked larger - did even a plaster cast count as an
outfit? It was getting awfully crowded on her chest now her tits were so
large, she thought. Oddly, they seemed to be almost impervious to gravity;
although she was lying on her back they had not noticeably flattened out.
It was by her sense of touch rather than by sight that she knew the area
around her slit was exposed - she couldn't see it, as her breasts were in
the way.

The Rabbit had somehow acquired not only a quantity of plaster of paris but
also a hospital stretcher, on which Alice was now lying helpless on her back.
She wondered if the Rabbit was telling the truth about her broken bones, or
whether this was his idea of fun. She wiggled her toes, which on bending her
neck she could just see past her tits, and her fingers experimentally.
Thankfully, they moved OK; at least her spine seemed to be undamaged.

9: Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow? - Still G Cup.

"We may be a little late for tea now," said the Rabbit, "but we might as well
still pay the Mad Hatter a visit." And he started pushing the trolley. The
ground was not particularly flat, and Alice found that she was jolted about
rather painfully. If her bones were really broken, surely this would not help
them to set properly, she thought. After a short while, they arrived at the
Hatter's. Tea had been set up on a table in the garden, but the meal now
appeared to be over. The Hatter and the March Hare, who both looked just like
the John Tenniel illustrations from so long ago, seemed to be having an
argument, and took no notice of their arrival.

"That hair restorer you sold me doesn't work," said the Hatter to the Hare.
"Look," lifting his top hat (on which the label still said "10/6d" - no
decimalisation of the currency had happened here, apparently, or inflation
for that matter). The March Hare solemnly examined the bald patch on the
Hatter's head. "Perhaps I gave you the hare restorer by mistake," he said.
The Hatter, understandably, looked confused. "Try this instead," suggested
the Hare, producing a bottle of some ointment from somewhere about his person.

"I'm not trying that till I've seen it tested on someone else first," said
the Hatter. "But you're hairy already so...She'll do," he continued, having
noticed Alice for the first time. "No, please," Alice objected. But the
March Hare was already rubbing the ointment into her scalp. Then, ignoring
her shriek of protest, he massaged some into her chin and above her upper
lip. He then moved towards her breasts, but an even louder shriek from Alice
apparently made him think better of it. He moved further down, and then Alice
felt him rub some in and around her rather sparse bush of pubic hair.

Then the March Hare stood back and stared intently at her. For half a minute
nothing happened. "See, it doesn't work," said the Hatter. But then Alice
felt a prickling in her scalp, and her hair began to grow. Alice's head was
right at one end of the trolley, with her hair overflowing it. In a very
short space of time, her originally shoulder-length dark tresses had reached
the ground, some three feet below her. That was the least of her worries,
though. She now had a rapidly growing beard and moustache. When she looked
down, she could see the end of the beard, which when it stopped growing
was about a foot long and some six inches across at its widest point. The
Rabbit thoughtfully produced a mirror from underneath the trolley, and held
it up so she could see that she also had a handle-bar moustache that any
RAF World War II fighter ace would have envied. Alice shrieked at the Hatter:
"You bastard! Look what you've done to me." The Hatter merely grinned at her.

The Rabbit turned the mirror so Alice could see her pelvis. Luxuriant frizzy
hair covered almost all of the triangle, some eight inches to a side, that had
been left uncovered by the plaster. The hair was sufficiently stiff to grow
almost straight out, and it was about six inches long. "Now that's what I call
a bush," said the March Hare appreciatively. "I told you it would work." But
the Hatter responded: "I'm not using that stuff. It's altogether too powerful."
The ointment apparently had another effect, for Alice's hair was now changing
colour. After another minute or so it had stabilised at strawberry blonde.

Somehow the beard upset Alice far more than all the other indignities that had
been heaped on her since she arrived in Pornoland. "Shit", she said. "Since
I don't want to join a freak show as The Bearded Lady, what do I do now?" The
Hatter and the Hare were still grinning at her predicament, but the Rabbit at
least had the grace to look apologetic. "Sorry about that," he said.
"Unfortunately my morphing powers do not extend beyond the stage of the club,
so there's not a lot I can do at the moment."