As a child, Mirana had been fascinated with death, even while her elder sister concerned herself more with the living. She had never harmed a creature but she yearned to, she just couldn\'t decide on a method. When her sister had fallen asleep at night, Mirana would creep from her bed, find a dark corner and a lantern and read for hours about torture and death. The number of ways to kill and maim an individual was numerous and intoxicating to the young girl. She hungered for malice as much as her sister hungered for attention.
Then there was a day that Mirana was watching a frog sleeping on a log at her feet. The frog slept soundly, unaware that his very life was in danger because the girl standing before him was contemplating his demise. Carefully, Mirana was picking her way through the numerous methods to kill it and sate her fascination for death. She could bash him with a rock nearby, stab him through with a stick, capture him and concoct a deadly poison to boil him in... Iracebeth appeared at her side and misunderstanding her sister\'s fascination of the creature, raised her foot and crushed the frog beneath her black heel. It was in that moment, seeing death with her own eyes for the first time, that Mirana felt a quiver of fear down in her very soul. The sound of the squishing was not the atrocious, fear-inducing problem, no. The look in her sister\'s eyes as she looked coolly at her afterward that made fear swell in her chest.
Iracebeth\'s eyes were dark pools of disgust and ire; anger and hate bubbling beneath the surface as she smiled at what she had done, proud of it, and walked away as quietly as she had appeared. For the first time, Mirana realized the dark side of her fascination and knew that if she were to give in to her curiosity, it would eventually twist her and blacken her heart. Might even make her head swell as it had begun to make Iracebeth\'s. Falling to her knees before the frog\'s corpse, Mirana swore an oath to never harm a living thing and locked away her dark fascinations deep in her heart. For a time, a good long time, she was able to hold up her word without trouble because the longer she stayed away from her dark interests, the easier it was to not desire it. That was, until she met the woman who would go on to become the champion of Underland, freeing them all from Iracebeth\'s dark reign.
Alice was fragile, yet strong. Beautiful, but not conceited. Mad, but in a special way that allowed her to transcend the existance she had once knew and see Underland as her real home despite all of it\'s quirks. After slaying the Jabberwocky, Alice left and Mirana\'s heart wept for she had seen something in the woman that she desired in a way she hadn\'t desired since her fascination of death. For a long time, Alice was gone, but eventually she returned. Did she return simply because Underland had been beckoning her home in her heart? Nay. The champion of Underland returned for one purpose - The White Queen. Five years gone and all Alice could think of was the queen of Underland.
Now that same queen sat quietly upon her throne, the throne room empty save for two other people - Alice and a servant girl. Standing partially clothed in a simple nightgown, Alice was standing, hands gripping the columns at either side of her. Her wrists were bound in chains that bruised pale wrists with each tug of her arms. Lips that had once spoken of dreams and disbelief in reality, cried out now with each lash of the whip. The servant girl\'s arms were growing tired as she swung the whip again and again, confused as to why the queen had demanded she beat the champion of Underland who had freed them all from the wicked Red Queen\'s tyranny. Still, when she had hesitated, it was the same champion that spoke up and pleaded for her to listen to her queen. So now she stood lashing out, blooding the pale expanse of flesh on Alice\'s back and tearing the nightgown\'s material occasionally, unbeknowst of the pleasure she was illicting in both women in the room.
Finally, the queen bade her to cease her actions and unrestrain Alice, which the servant girl was more than happy to do. With fast hands, she freed the long haired blonde and helped her to kneel at the spot before the queen\'s throne. The White Queen waved the servant girl away with a smile and a request not to speak of what had happened to which the girl was quick to agree to out of embarrassment of what she\'d been made to do. When the girl had left the room, Alice looked up slowly at the White Queen, blue eyes blazing with the fire of her soul and the vigor of her heart. The look sparked the built up lust in Mirana\'s heart and she rose quickly and took Alice\'s hand, helping her up to her feet. She spared a moment to brush stray strands of wild, untameable locks from Alice\'s face, offering the woman a smile that was quickly reflected back. Together they made their way to the bedroom, falling against the door as soon as it was closed, lips locked and fingers tugging at clothing.
\"My champion, your pain makes my heart beat rapidly and my body quake in rapture,\" Mirana spoke when she was allowed a moment to breathe.
\"You are a peculiar one, Queen,\" Alice replied as her nightgown, bloodied and torn, fell to her feet. \"Perhaps that is what brought me back to you.\"
Reaching for the clasps Alice had missed, Mirana tilted her head in thought, smiling. \"Perhaps. Or it was your desire for madness that brought you back.\"
Silent now, Alice helped the queen out of her robes and when she had the White Queen as nude as she was, she guided her to the bed. Laying the queen down first, Alice laid beside her next, careful to rest on her side and not her injured back. Their lips found one another again as Alice\'s hand took hold of flesh she had yearned to touch since before the whipping. While her skin was pale, the Queen\'s was white and Alice\'s hand gave it color so the former champion made sure to touch every bit of skin she could reach. Fingers that had grown strong while in the real world in preparation of one day returning to Underland and protecting the White Queen again if need be, found their way between thighs eager for their touch. Alice was not surprised to find the queen thoroughly slick and wet; her hand sliding against the white haired woman\'s slit with ease and making the woman tremble in anticipation. Slipping her fingers past nether lips, Alice watched quietly as the White Queen squeezed her eyes shut as the blonde fingered the sensitive pearl between the queen\'s thighs.
Knowing she would harm Alice if she touched her because of her injuries, Mirana balled her hands in the bedsheets beneath them as she began to pant and Alice trailed kisses up and down her jawline, unable to resist the expanse of white flesh as it flexed between gasping and panting. Adding another finger, Alice trapped the pearl she\'d been rubbing between her index finger and thumb, rubbing both sides of the precious gem and making the queen buck and shout. Risking a look, Mirana found blue eyes that desired nothing more than her pleasure, and cried out as an orgasm tingled through her body. Crashing her lips against Alice\'s, Mirana shuddered as she moved but was so overwhelmed by the feelings pulsating throughout her that she had to release them onto her champion or she might explode. The kiss was rougher than intended and Mirana balled a hand in long blonde locks as she entwined fingers with the other woman and pushed her onto her back, damn be the blood that would stain her satin white sheets. As carefully as she had studied death as a child, Mirana had studied her champion\'s body and knew it well by now. She slid down between creamy thighs, inhaling the scent of arousal that was far better than the scent of buttered fingers, and teased Alice with her tongue until the blonde was softly begging for release. It was the only time Mirana indulged in her role of power and fascination of torture, enjoying the sweet sound of begging from the woman who had slayed the Jabberwocky as an unsure young woman.
Tongue teased and teeth tugged at sensitive flesh until Alice was nothing more than a quivering bundle of desire; a begging shell of the strong, but perhaps foolish, woman the denizens of Underland knew. Satisfied with this, the queen relented her torment and slipped a pair of fingers into the blonde, making her sigh contently. Tongue lapped at the precious gem between the champion\'s thighs as fingers thrust in and out of the moaning woman. Alice\'s body flexed involuntarily as the orgasm built up within her until she could practically feel every lap of the queen\'s tongue on her own tongue. Hand flowing once through long white hair, Alice threw her head back, forgetting the world that might not really exist, despite what she told herself, and came to her lover\'s touch. Wiping her chin on the back of her hand when she was done, Mirana took a moment to survey the ravished body laid out before her and while she loved it, there was a sight she loved more but had yet to properly view yet.
\"Roll over onto your stomach,\" the queen commanded in a soft voice.
Without question, Alice did as asked, more to get off her back which was beginning to throb in rememberance of it\'s condition. Mirana was delighted by the criss-cross of blood and welts that laid before her. She knew she could not leave Alice like this but she took a long time in enjoying the sight before reaching for the balm on the bedside table. Alice\'s hair, tangled and wild, was slipped to the side as she waited for the queen to finish her observation. One arm was tucked beneath the blonde\'s head but the other was lying across the bed above Alice\'s head and Mirana could see the bruises from the chains beginning to surface on the pale wrist. Placing a kiss on the small of Alice\'s back, on a patch of skin unharmed by the whip, Mirana reluctantly took the balm and applied it to the wounds on the blonde\'s back. It sizzled for a second as it set in, instantly healing the wounds that were not open or too swollen. The rest would disappear by the time Alice awoke from a nap they had both earned. The bruises on Alice\'s wrists would stay however so Mirana could look upon them in glee later on and be able to savor this moment until they healed. Then they would repeat the whipping.
And maybe, just maybe, the woman who had renounced injury of another as a girl out of fear of falling in love with it, would be the one to wield the whip.