Somehow my copies of "Red, Black and Blue" had been overwritten by an unrelated document. If anyone out there has a copy of "Red, Black and Blue" by some stroke of miraculous good fortune, I would absolutely love you to email it to me!

Alas, there is no recreating a story once it has been written.

I would be grateful.

The sailors of his ship had made a rubber woman for themselves to while away the time and satisfy the desires they felt during their six or seven months at sea. The woman had been beautifully made and gave them a perfect illusion.

She looks to her right, into the dense gathering of vegetation. The forest seemed pleasant enough. Not the dark foreboding that hid wolves and witches waiting to prey on little girls. The canopy of trees towered above her, and all around, sunlight spilling in through the break in the trees. With little more than a fleeting thought she wandered into the woods. There are no thistles, thorns or thick weeds to warn her that she's gone too far. Her bare feet feel soothed by the moist softness of thick cool moss as she continues on deeper.

He felt the tell-tale quivering of her inner thighs; felt her fingers entwined in his hair; felt her heels pressing hard into his back; felt her thighs scissoring his neck and head as her spasms began.

They were alone at last, and her hands began to quiver. Afraid to look at him, unable to meet his eyes, she walked to the window. The small talk continued. Her fingers found the curtains, absently petting the soft fabric to distract from their trembling. Eyes fixed outside, she heard him approach.

The water poured down. Hot. The glass of the enclosure was fogged with steam.

They had soaped and rinsed and were now locked in an embrace. Mouth on mouth, hands and fingers busy.

Lady: I've been bad.

Master: Patience is a virtue and no sassy responses, please.

L: I prefer my vices.

M: I see we need significant and extended obedience training my pet. Meditate on your sins.

Past quarreling children coming down off sugar rushes, and frustrated parents panting under heat exhaustion and the weight of their children's luggage. Even for them the place was loosing its whimsy and she began to regard is as the naval of hell that was reality. Still they had one last stop and made their way towards another famed classic: The Mad Tea Party.

In honour of every unbirthday party she had ever thrown, and every white rabbit she had chased, they would have to visit the dizzying tea cup!