“What do you mean?” I asked. Caterpillar’s name rolled over in my mind—Shaheen. I hadn’t known it. Most everyone just called him Caterpillar.
“He’s pompous and narcissistic. Some people like that though. Is that what you like, Alice? Or is there something else about Caterpillar that makes you wet?”
“That’s none of your business,” I said in offence, my face hot. Perhaps it was ridiculous to be offended by a crass statement in a place like this. I wasn’t sure. “What do you mean he sent the last customer away? I plan to pay…”
“Yes, you will pay and there are no refunds,” Cheshire laughed. “So if he thinks you’re unworthy then you’ll toddle away unsatisfied and with much less money.”
“How much less?” I asked, wondering if this was really my best option. A paper appeared from the smoke above my head and flitted down towards my waiting fingers. A number was written on it that made me cringe. I’d brought exactly that much but had hoped to only use a percentage. I had to wonder if Cheshire had a way of knowing exactly what I had on hand so he could demand all of it.
“Maybe someone else will do? I mean, if he’s too expensive,” Cheshire said, his voice cloying. He was searching for more information. I shot him an annoyed look and pinched open my clutch. Cheshire gave me a small laugh, knowing full well I was avoiding giving him answers but giving him answers all the same. Yes, Caterpillar was too much. And no, no one else would do.
“Here,” I said, pressing a neat pile of banknotes on the counter, then sliding the stack toward Cheshire. My family would be shamed if anyone found out I was in a place like this. Society would thrust us out in the cold. Those concerns had a way of feeling unimportant while in Wonderland. It’s not as if normal people were aware of this world nor this devious den inside it. Only people more than a little mad could find themselves here. And most often, they never found their way back out.
However, if there was a way the entire world would find out, I’d still be here paying the devil for a taste of Caterpillar. My mind filled with the image of him and I grew impatient, my fingers shaking a little in anticipation. My thighs pressed tight together, an attempt to control the excitement I felt rising between them.
A blue-grey paw pressed on the top of the banknotes, claws coming out a half-inch to scrape across the paper. Cheshire smiled—as always.
“Through the curtain and down the hall. Good luck.” I nodded and swept my eyes around the room. A few of the workers were looking me over. The patrons were much too engrossed in their own desires being met. In darkened booths, I saw bodies sliding against one another. In others I saw men and women in a slumber, long pipes still clutched in their sleeping hands.
The music seemed louder as I finished my talk with Cheshire. I walked across the room, ignoring the burn in my cheeks as I moved towards the beaded curtain. I pushed past it, the wooden beads brushing together quietly. There was no light in the hallway, just the glowing remains from the other rooms filtering through the curtain.
Two green eyes appeared on a ledge against the hallway wall, a striking image in the shadows. Cheshire was back for another last word. He always loved to leave everyone reeling as a final send-off.
“Formicophilia,” he purred and I inhaled sharply. Of course I knew the word for what I had–bug lover. I’d searched for many things on the subject. “Many people come for Caterpillar but none so far for that. What a novelty you are Alice. Usually, it's his other attributes that drag in people to give the bug a try. But you’ve been dragged in because he is a bug,” he broke off in laughter, highly entertained with my desires.
“You don’t know anything,” I said angrily, stomping forward.
“There’s no hiding what you want. Not from me.” How he knew was beyond me. Cheshire had many tricks and many little birdies who loved to talk. Mad Hatter could have told him. I stopped walking and swallowed, choosing to remain silent. If I kept talking, Cheshire would just keep talking. He always needed the last word.
“Have fun,” he crooned knowingly, his voice fading as the glow of his eyes did as well. The smile was the last to go. I blew out a breath, feeling the burn of embarrassment on my cheeks.
“Who cares if a cat knows anyway,” I grumbled, walking forward. Of course, that cat clutched the puppet strings of Wonderland these days.
Chapter2
Alice
Thick red fabric covered the entrance to Caterpillar’s room. I stood in front of it for a moment, taking a deep breath and trying to calm myself down. The object of my lustful obsession was just beyond the curtain. I was nervous, excited, concerned. I swallowed my emotions and pushed through the barrier into his room.
There were draped fabrics, plentiful cushions, rugs, and beautiful glass lanterns just like the main room. However, there were also the mushrooms from the forest, growing right from the floor and glowing their blues and greens, offsetting the rich reds in which the room was decorated.
In the farthest corner, I saw shadows and smoke. I heard the gentle bubbling of water as a hookah was sucked. More smoke billowed out from the cloud.
He was here. I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking now, couldn’t stop my heart from rapidly pounding in my chest. I thought of all the nights I’d used the idea of him to find my pleasure. I thought of the hundreds of times my feverish fingers brushed over his picture before hiding it away. I was overwhelmed with conflict. Either he would be everything I dreamed of, or I would discover I’d dreamed of something too good to be true.
Slowly, I moved towards him, shuffling silently. This room was hazier than the one up front, wisps of smoke giving a dream-like quality to the space. The dim lighting and bioluminescent mushrooms didn’t help that feeling. I started to wonder if I’d eventually look back at my memories of this room and question if it had been just another dream.
I heard the water in the hookah softly purr once again. Smoke rings shot out from the space where Caterpillar sat, one after another they briefly danced before dissipating into the underlying haze. Red curtains were pulled to the side of the grand canopy bed he lounged in.
“Hello,” I called, wondering if he even realised I was here. New smoke rings flew through the centre of older ones until finally, the procession stopped.
“Who… are… you?” From a curtain of smoke, his measured words dripped in disdain. Two all-black eyes pierced me through the fog, looking me over as if I was unworthy of his time despite paying an arm and a leg to have it…to have him.
He held off smoking as he awaited my answer. The smoke around him slowly shifted away, parting as he leaned forward to get a better look at me. I held my breath as he started to come in view.
His eyes were large and all-black, he had two antennae that came from his forehead like horns. His face was beautiful—pouty, downturned lips that curled slightly in distaste as he eyed me, thin eyebrows that curved in judgement, angular high cheeks, and dark hair someone had braided with silk strings of gold.
He had on a white robe with gold detailing on the edges. It was open wide, a tan chest on display. His four arms pulled my attention. Two of his arms pressed into the bed as he sat up and leaned forward. His third arm gripped the hookah hose, holding it loosely to the side. His fourth arm reached for a glass. I watched as he removed an absinthe spoon from the top before plucking the cloudy, green drink up and bringing it to his mouth.
