Back to Rose.

"Wait," said present Clara. "What the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean?" said the Ghost.

"With Alice. She's up to something. I can see her. Does this mean I can remember what she's doing in the future, and stop her."

"It should," said the Ghost, "but it doesn't. You see, because of timey-wimey, you won't actually remember any of what I'm showing you. Otherwise, it would create a paradox."

"What?"

"Luckily, you also won't remember what I just told you, and you won't see fit to ask any more inconvenient questions. Unless it becomes convenient for the plot, that is. Remember, we're in the Land of Fiction, and even time travel follows fictional rules here. Unlike in the outside world, where it always functions in a completely coherent and logical way."

"Will I be able to remember it?" said present Rose.

"Maybe. Let's find out."

The scene skipped ahead. Rose was running stark naked through the streets of New York, being teased and ogled by everyone she met. It skipped ahead again. Now she was finding a magic golden key hidden somewhere in the Museum of Modern Art, seconds ahead of Wonder Woman, who was brandishing an enormous wooden paddle and looking very annoyed. A door in nowhere opened and Clara stepped out.

"Just in time," she said brightly. "How are you feeling, Rose?"

"Oh my god, it's so embarrassing, please please can we go? Please? I found the key, I found it!"

Clara stepped back to avoid a group of Japanese tourists, who were all taking pictures of the furiously blushing Rose. Wonder Woman was advancing on her, slapping the paddle against her palm. "Please? Clara? It's been days, and I'm naked, and getting spanked hurts, and..."

"And what?"

"And I really... want to cum..."

"What's that? Louder, please, so everyone can hear you."

Ruse blushed even harder and fell into a crouch, her knees turned in, her mittened hands clasped to her body as she nervously side-eyed Wonder Woman. She summoned up all her courage and said "I want to cum."

"You want to do what now?"

"Cum! I want to cum! I'm a horny little slut who wants to cum!"

The Japanese tourists broke into polite applause. Clara laughed. "Alright, there's no need to shout, girl! I see you completed my challenge. You've earned a bit of a rest."

"Good! Can we go, please?"

"But I don't know if you've earned an orgasm. It wasn't that hard to find, was it?"

"It was! It was really hard!"

"Tell you what," said Clara. "I'll let you cum. But first you have to let Wonder Woman spank you."

"W-what?"

"One more spanking, an extra hard one, and then I'll let you play with yourself. While all these Japanese tourists watch, obviously. And me. And Wonder Woman. And whoever else happens to come along. Otherwise, we can leave now, but I'm going to have to give you another week of orgasm denial."

"B-but..."

"You get to choose, see? I'm being nice to you."

The tourists giggled. Many of them were schoolgirls, Rose couldn't help but noticing. She bit her lip, knowing perfectly well what she was going to choose. She really didn't want another spanking, but the thought of another full week of not being allowed to cum was just too much to bear. She lowered her hands and said, in a very small, soft voice, "I'll take the spanking."

"What's that? Ask Wonder Woman politely. It's the least you can do."

"W-wonder Woman, can I please have a-another spanking?"

"Because?"

"Because I'm a horny little slut who wants to cum?"

Wonder Woman grabbed her by the hair and pulled her down over her knee, binding her arms behind her back with a golden lasso in one smooth motion. "Let this be a lesson to you," she said. "You're such a dirty little girl."

"Ow! Ow ow ow!"

"Intteresting," said Clara, pulling out her typewriter as she watched the scene unfold. The Japanese tourists, especially the schoolgirls, were crowding around Rose as the Amazon reddened her bottom, prodding her naked thighs and pulling her hair. "This gives me an idea."

She laid her fingers to the keys and wrote "Alice was also really, really horny, and **** to have an orgasm, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite get there. She was trapped in a state of hot, wet, permanent sexual frustration, an endless humiliating hell of orgasm denial that endured no matter where she went. And to make matters worse, she kept getting stimulated in all manner of exciting and degrading ways, that brought her all the way to the edge and kept her trapped there in front of everyone. It was infuriating. She hated it so, so much, and it felt like it was going to go on forever and ever."

-

"Eek! Eeeeeek! Stop! You bitches, stop!"

The housemaids giggled as Alice squirmed under their feather dusters, playing lewdly over her nipples and clit, driving her mad with sensation. Beside her, Elizabeth Bennet struggled against her bonds, strands of hair plastered to her sweaty red face. The women were tied down over a pair of drawing-room tables, spread-eagled on their backs, wrists and ankles firmly attached to the tables' wooden legs, stark naked and completely at the mercy of half a dozen pretty perverts in frilly black dresses. Mr. Darcy stood in the corner, watching with mild amusement.

"This will teach you to lose all your clothes at my ball, Elizabeth," he said. "And don't forget, afterwards, it's the duckpond for you."

"Oh! Oh, goodness! It's so... damn it, it's so good! Ah! Oh, no... yes! Yes! Fuck me, Mr. Darcy! Fuck me!"

"Do you know, I believe I shall."