"You're far too tall to be Alice. And your current build simply won't do!"

"I won't play a role in your twisted fantasy, Tetch. This will only get worse for you the longer you keep this up," Batman growled, swinging again at the Mad Hatter, only for him to disappear once more.

"Tsk... tsk... You’re no fun! I will never let you leave my sight. You'll never leave my world, Alice; you are mine and mine forever," the Mad Hatter whimsically hummed, dancing around the Dark Knight, easily evading his punches and jabs.

“You won’t break me, Tetch, stronger men have tried. Once I’m out of here, I’ll make you regret trying this!” Batman frowned, his eyes following the villain. There had to be a way out of here. There always was. None of it was real, just a corrupted simulation modified to fit the whims of a psychopath obsessed with a fairy tale.

“Regret? Why would I regret being here in such a wonderful place with my favorite girl in the world?” Jervis said with a grin, sipping a cup of tea.

“You need your eyes checked, Tetch. I look nothing like your precious Alice,” Batman swung, making Jervis vanish, but this time anticipating his movements and reaching out just as he reappeared. Bruce’s grip tight on the Tetch’s collar, he held him up off of his feet. “One last chance, or you’ll have to spend a month recovering in Gotham General once I’m done with you! Then they’ll ship you off to Arkham where you belong.”

"My, my, my, you're right!” The shorter man squabbled in Batman’s iron grip. “I wouldn't want a towering, imposing figure as my Alice, no. You're far too tall to be Alice. And your current build simply won't do!” For a second, it sounded like he had finally seen reason. “So how about we cut you down to size?" the Mad Hatter said with a giddy expression.

Suddenly, the floor rumbled like an earthquake. "How could this be a dream if I can feel the seismic impact? That means..." The ground below Batman cracked as the concrete split apart. Batman couldn’t find an edge to grapple himself out of, and it was far too late to do so, given the rumbling and crackling ground, which caused Batman to lose his balance and fall into the dark abyss below.

Batman spread his cape out as he descended, slowing his fall. A myriad of strange objects trickled down with him from above, and not just concrete debris either; it was all teakettles, grandfather clocks, and stopwatches. It felt like hours had slipped by, but Batman was able to see the floor—a dirt-covered surface where he slowly landed, making it onto the surface with the light tap of his heel.

The entire environment was muddy, and above, twisted trees with gnarly branches blocked the view of the sky. The detective quickly picked up on the several multicolored mushrooms in the abyss with him, each several times his size. They looked otherworldly.

The mushrooms seemed to exhale an orangish-pink cloud from their gills. Batman tried to swish away the clouds, but the gas still seeped into his lungs, sending him into a coughing fit. He shot a hand to his utility belt only to find his gas mask compartment had been filled with… jolly ranchers? Dammit, Tetch was right. He really was trapped in Mad Hatter’s domain. There were no laws of physics here, reality merely bent to the green hatted lunatic’s whim.

Turning, the Batman bolted as fast as he could, but the sheer volume of mushrooms releasing spores was too great. He struggled to cover his face with his cape in a vain attempt to avoid breathing more in. Batman coughed spontaneously as he tried to keep up the pace. His eyes darted every which way, desperately trying to locate a way out. His body starting to ache and twitch as he went, stomach churning. But he couldn’t let up, this gas could be poisonous for all he knew. He had to get out of this mushroom forest alive, ignoring all of the changes happening to his body.

The bulky muscle that Bruce had worked tirelessly to acquire and maintain shrank and slimmed down. His sizable biceps deflated and shrank, and his arms becoming slender and elegant. His meaty hands compressed down into dainty palms and digits. Sleeves now hanging on his dainty arms, gloves slipping off his hands. As he struggled to maintain his marathoner’s pace, he waivered. Knees weak, he collapsed to the ground, gasping and coughing violently as the gas seeped into his core. He went to cover his face with his hands, only to see they were slender and effeminate, manicured even.

“W-wha… ERGH!” The Dark Knight grunted. Rock hard abs sinking in, flattening, waist cinching inwards. His bones then crunched as his spine jutted and shrunk, taking a whole foot off Bruce’s original height, leaving him at 5'2". Bruce Wayne’s build lost its bulky masculine physique and became much more fitting for a petite woman.

As Batman struggled to get back on his feet, his movements were becoming much more sluggish. “This dream… it’s changing m-me,” Bruce said, his deep tone cracking, shifting higher in pitch and coming out as a youthful soprano. “My voice,” Bruce squeaked, his delicate hands reaching for his throat only to feel the lack of an Adam’s apple. He sounded like… a girl?

“No, there has to be a way out!”

Just as Bruce fought to get back to his feet with a newfound vigor, there was a loud crackle. His spine curved inward, forcing his butt and shoulders out and creating a neat S shape along his back. It made Batman fall onto the muddy ground, screaming in pain. The pain from the sudden shift sent a shock to his system, accelerating the dissipation of his muscle tissue. The mass circulated through his body, quickly melting his pecs away into soft lovable fat, making him moan out of surprise. His nipples hardened, grazing the rough texture of the interior of his batsuit. The lumps increasing a cup size with every intense, heavy breath Bruce inhaled and exhaled as he hopelessly tore at his costume. One hand desolately trying to press one of his burgeoning breasts back as if that would stop it. The result only made their growth faster, more violent and intense, pleasurable even. Face flushed red, his stiff bulge shrank into his crotch, pressing into his newly forming walls.

“Gahh!” Bruce cried out, the foreign sensation overflowing his mind with endorphins. His muscular legs shrank and slimmed down, fat building up and filling out his ass and thighs, hips popping outward to give him a distinctive hourglass figure. His new shape suddenly made the lower body portions of the suit just as ill-fitting as his arms.

Bruce’s short raven hair had lightened to blonde and lengthened down to his shoulders, blonde bangs falling into his eyes. His face lost all of his strong Wayne features, his nose shrinking, jawline softening, lips plumping out, eyes taking on an attractive almond shape, cheekbones shifting, wrinkles and age lines vanishing, and overall becoming more akin to that of a 22-year-old woman than a 40-year-old crime fighter. Even his irises lightened from an ocean blue to a sky blue.

“Ugh! Make it stop!” Bruce demanded, his bust finally settling at a firm DD-cup, the chestplate of the cartoonish version of his batsuit resting uncomfortably on the soft mounds. Both hands miserably tried to prevent the inevitable, as his dick slid and schlicked back inside his body. Tantalizing it’s replacement on the way up.

Bruce raised her head, her eyes drooping and clearing as she noticed a door just a few feet away. The fog of unbearable pleasure fading.

“Finally… an exit…” Bruce groaned as she scampered to her feet. Weak and flimsy, she stumbled here and there. But there was no time to rest or dwell on the sudden physical changes; Mad Hatter was sitting in front of her, at the end of a table, drinking tea and smirking patiently waiting for Bruce to show up.

“My little Alice, you have finally come to my tea party. But you aren't dressed for the occasion,” Mad Hatter said whimsically.

“I… I am not… Alice!” Bruce huffed.

“But you are Alice, haven't you seen yourself in the mirror,” the Mad Hatter gestured. Her new reflection horrified her. Some young blonde woman in her early 20’s was inhabiting an ill-fitting Bat suit, which was so large on her that it hung from her collar. “Those spores... they made me…” Bruce sputtered, at a loss for words to describe the situation. She just hoped that this was all a dream from which she could wake up.

“Yes, they have made you Alice… more specifically, my Alice. Isn't that wonderful? You and I can stay here in Wonderland forever and ever until the end of time. Isn't that WONDERFUL?!” the Mad Hatter grinned, delighted to watch Gotham's greatest detective as the main character of his favorite tale. His mannerisms were comparable to those of a scientist taking gleeful intrigue in their research. “No more worrying about that putrid lost cause of a city, no more fighting crime or putting your life on the line for those who are unappreciative! Here, you can be my carefree little Alice!”

_“Go to hell, Jervis,” _Bruce snarled, desperately wanting to change back and escape.

“Oh dear, it seems that my little Alice isn’t grateful for all that I've done for her. Don’t worry, we'll have to change that attitude soon, and then you'll never leave my side ever again, and you and I will remain reunited forever and ever," the Mad Hatter said with a wicked grin.

Bruce turned, searching for an exit, a path forward, a way out, something.