The Witch's Dollhouse Pt. 02

When he woke up Philip just stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. His mind was still groggy and his body was reluctant to make any kind of move.

He was completely naked, his clothes had vanished and yet he felt cleaner compared how he was when trapped under a horde of horny living dolls.

Maybe they bathed him before leaving him? That is, if there was any trace of sanity left in them.

Phil was doing his best to keep his eyes open as he lay in the bed, even blinking flashed images of those glazed eyes drowning in lust, the twisting bodies in their carnal dance atop his cock, and the mother and daughter from the picture that old crone showed him.

The old crone...what did she say again? Be on your guard and leave as soon as possible.

Great advice, but there was something else. A brief worry fluttered into his thoughts and lingered just beyond his reach. Something the crone said that had confused him at the time but was beginning to make sense as he lay there numb and dazed.

Ah right.

If you're the one she has chosen...

She?

A flash of purple invaded his mind, the memory of a spellbinding gaze cast from violet eyes.

The girl in the attic was by far the most captivating enigma the mansion had revealed to Philip and even now he couldn't understand why.

What little glimpse he caught of her was brief as he would pass out almost immediately afterwards and yet his brain refused to write her off as a simple mirage created from an exhausted state.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up in the bed, regardless of how many mysteries surrounded the house, it was clear that he was in danger and needed to escape.

As he looked around the room his eyes rested on a figure standing sentinel in the corner of the room. He didn't flinch nor did he startle but a creeping unease settled over him as he watched it, goosebumps broke out over his body, he broke into a silent sweat and he felt his dick harden as he remembered the things the doll and it's kind did to him before he fell unconscious from exhaustion.

The doll was like the others of it's kind, pale skinned, slender and beautiful. The only thing separating each doll from each other were their hair styles and colour as well as their eyes.

They were practically indistinguishable from a regular human if not for the visible ball joints on it's elbows, knees and waist.

Though it wouldn't have mattered since they must have been human at one point.

Phil remembered the two dolls that joined in his reverse rape that bore a tragic resemblance to the mother and daughter that recently went missing after entering this cursed placed.

Normally Phil felt he should have written it off as a coincidence, or that whoever was responsible was simply pulling a macabre joke by making the dolls' likeness equal to the missing victims.

He felt like it would have been natural to do so, if only to deny the reality of a strange, absurd world he was currently trapped in.

But a part of himself knew, not guessed or assumed; knew, that these dolls were humans.

That this is the fate of all women who come into this home.

He approached the doll, a young lady with light brown hair that exploded into curls and small hazel eyes, freckles surprisingly dotted her cheeks and across her breasts.

She was holding a small card, the front had written on it in elegant font;

Two more attempts remain, good luck.

Phil felt his cheeks flush, was that orgy his first failure? What counted as a failure? The act of being caught or the act of falling unconscious?

He flipped the card around to reveal another message on the back;

Journey to the basement and kiss the bride.

On the bright side the instructions were simplistic, though that only served to fuel his nerves more.

Surely there was a trap waiting for him, another group of dolls ready to molest him or something worse?

Phil left the room and walked down the corridor, though he was the only person present in the house he felt rather uncomfortable walking in the nude so openly but couldn't find an alternative way to dress without hindering his movement should he need to make an escape.

He passed more dolls on his way to the foyer staircase but none of them appeared to wake up or attack him.

Presumably, the dolls would leave him alone until he had the key but it was better to remain cautious regardless.

He made it to the basement door without incident, or rather what he assumed was the basement door.

It was an iron door he saw when he first came into the manor. It was unlocked but heavy, and it swung inward revealing stone steps that descended into the gloom, a stuffy, oppressive atmosphere loomed over the staircase.

Phil left the door open and descended, using the light to help guide him down the steps as much as possible.

The stone was deathly cold against his bare feet, each step sent shivers up his body as he walked practically blind into the yawning abyss.

Deeper and deeper he went, beyond the guardian gaze of the light until he reached yet another heavy iron door.

He pushed it open, the metal scraping unbearably loud against the cobbles revealing another dark room abandoned by light.

Philip paused for a moment before returning to the foyer. After looking around he found the best light source he could; a single wax candle unused and ready and a box of matches before returning to the darkness armed with a feeble flame to help him see.

The room was expansive, it was impossible to tell in the gloom but the room could have easily stretched the entire expanse of the mansion for all he knew.

Because for all intents and purposes it looked like an endless dark void of nothingness. But voids are empty and this room wasn't.

Philip never considered himself a timid or nervous boy but after his experience with them before, he practically screamed when he bumped into another doll in the dark.

After a brief panic attack which almost had him drop the candle and his only source of light, Phil a few deep breaths and, steeling himself for his nervous journey, pushed on into the darkness.

The doll he saw had the same physical properties as the previous dolls he encountered, the same fair skin, pupil-less eyes and ball-joint connectors between their limbs and their torsos, however certain physical properties were more than obviously tweaked.

For one thing, the doll was much larger than the previous ones, standing 7-8 feet tall and towering over Philip. Also, her breasts and ass had received a cartoonish boost in mass too, juxtaposed to the slender waist and delicate features, the sight was too absurd for words, like one of those tacky porn artists had brought their oversized bimbos to life, he couldn't help but laugh at what he was gawping at.

But that laugh died in his mouth as quickly as it was summoned. He knew exactly what these dolls were made for and the level of assertiveness they used to dominate their prey, a behemoth like this would would drain him in a far more rapacious manner than the previous inhabitants showed.

Phil also took note of several other things; the first being was that there were many more dolls of equally comical proportions lining the entire walls of the room, their lifeless stares and glassy eyes added a hauntingly sombre tone to the infinite silence of the basement.

A tone enhanced when Philip began lighting the wall mounted lanterns to get a more stable light source in the gloom and noticed that each doll was chained up to the wall.

Black iron chains coiled from ringlets bolted into the cobble walls and fastened themselves to rusty anklets on each of the enlarged dolls. In the light of the dancing flames, it was as if the chains were swallowing the light shining onto them instead of reflecting the glow back.

The other thing that set them apart from the upstairs dolls was that unlike them, these dolls all looked the same.

The same raven black hair, falling low to their calves and melding into the darkness around them.

The same dark blue eyes like a bottomless ocean that drew you into it's unfathomable depths with the intention of drowning you.

The same physique, the same face, they were all carbon copies of one another.

And that they each looked far too familiar for his comfort, every time he saw them his chest tightened and his body flushed with heat. He could feel his body break out into a cold sweat like it was remembering something his mind was ignoring.

Phil traversed the walls of the basement, taking care not to stray to close to the dolls in case they "activated" and only got close to light any lanterns he found.

Eventually Phil made a complete circuit and found, to his annoyance, that not a single doll gave any indication that it was the "bride" he was searching for.

Phil then switched his attention to the still unlit centre of the cold room, the shy flames around the walls struggled to reach the no man's land shrouded in a blanket of darkness but every so often, they would offer a glimpse at a large shape that sat patiently in the gloom.

It was either a structure that would offer another clue or, more likely, another doll.

Phil made his way back to the door he came from and opened it slightly, enough for his skinny frame to slip through and dissuade any oversized pursuers from following if he needed to make a quick break for it.

Then, steeling his nerves, the young fool plunged into the obscure void.

He walked slow and quietly, afraid of bumping into something in the dark and of the dolls' reaction to any loud noise, he still had no idea what exactly caused them to awaken specifically last time and wasn't intending to chance fate.

As he got closer, his dying candle managed to pick out a jagged and thin entity dangling from the ceiling to the ground before looping back up to the unseen heavens like a lifeless serpent.

Phil reached out and grabbed the chain, the iron colder than the touch of death itself, there was no knowing the outcome of pulling the chain and there's was no reason to suspect the house conformed to a natural sense of logic or architecture.

If humans can be turned into dolls within this mansion then anything could potentially be possible.

That being said, his candle was ill effective and the lanterns were too far to make for any useful source of illumination so there must have been at least one other source of light for the middle ground.

Phil took the chance and pulled on the chain, ready to bolt if the shapes bound to the wall began to shift in any suspicious manner.

The heavy chain made lazy progress and complained ingloriously loud but Phil didn't need to pull it much, just enough to confirm the machination's meaning.

No sooner did he begin did a blade of light pierce the darkness next to him, it's radiant aura was small but dispelled much of the surrounding gloom regardless.

Phil took a brief moment to analyse his surroundings, so far the dolls weren't stirring but who knew how long it would be before that changed.

Taking a few deep breaths, Phil pulled the chain as hard as he could, bracing himself not only against the weight the chain seemed to carry but against the fear that the dolls would attack at any moment. He focused on the light that was growing in size has he worked and not on the dancing shadows that surrounded him, nor on the ceaseless clamour of the chains and cogs above him, creaking on like a siren to rouse the sleeping sentinels from their daze and urge them onto their meal.

Phil didn't realize how badly his muscles were aching until the chain stopped budging.

Phil reflexively relaxed his grip for a moment only to tighten it again when the iron links fled from his grasp, swallowing the light with them.

Looking around, Phil found an anchor point bolted to the floor and secured the chain as tight as he could. When he determined that the chain wasn't budging any time soon and that he wasn't in danger as of yet, he turned his focus to the shaft of light.

It came from a grate in the basement's ceiling, a heavenly eye peering into the abyss, becoming a shaft that extended up to an opening leading outside, likely to the expansive lawn in front of the estate building.

He contemplated briefly on climbing up the chain to reach the grate but wasn't particularly confident in breaking the wood and iron bars from their secure lodging.

While the hole itself wasn't very large, the light it emitted was illuminating the whole basement, washing over the orange dim of the lanterns without competition and granting a better look at the occupants of this cobbled crypt.

At the centre of this luster, Phil managed to get a better look at what was in the middle of the room.

A large circular bed, complete with red silk sheets dominated the empty space, behind it were too wooden frames in the shape of an "X" with a small bench inbetween carrying dubious instruments and erotic equipment.

Attached to each of the frames and on the bed were three women.

Not dolls, human women.

They were still breathing and there were no markings on their body to indicate they were injured but there were definitely not given any VIP treatment either.

The two women bound to the wooden frames; one was maybe as old as he was, 18 if not a little older.

She was pretty plain looking in a cute sort of way except her dark hair which had a rebellious streak of orange lining her fringe. It was a hollow attempt at looking like a rebel but it definitely set her aside from her otherwise ordinary appearance.

The other woman was definitely older by a few decades, the tell tale crows feet creasing her tanned skin spoke louder than words.

She had a well kept body, nothing olympic-like but toned enough to show how outgoing she was, maybe she had been travelling when she stumbled across this manor.

Both girls were completely naked aside from a gag fastened around each other's mouths and a pair of white panties each, both of which bulged around the crotch and anal regions and stained a dark grey with femcum, a puddle of lewd origins surrounded their restrained forms and a low hum could be heard from their nether regions.

On the table between them, Phil spotted what he expected; several sex-toys were arranged, some were unused, some, coated in slick translucent juices, had clearly been used already and judging by the empty space available, many were already employed.

There were beads and plugs, egg vibrators, nipple clamps and various other things that seemed out of place in a manor that originated a few hundred years ago.

Wait, how old IS this place actually?

He stifled the question when he noticed several similar looking dildos on the table, at least 7 inches each and thicker than a natural penis, they looked too detailed to be an ordinary sex toy.

Upon touching the object, he found it to be disturbingly fleshy and soft, like the texture of the doll bodies; distinctly close to a human's body yet also clearly not the same.

Furthermore, the base of the penis seemed to open up like a flower bud, the inside of each flap was covered in hundreds of bumpy protrusions that secreted a thick foamy nectar. God knows what that was used for but Phil put the thing down.

He pulled down the panties of the captive women as far as he could, noting the strands of pussy juice bridging flesh and fabric as he did as well as the harem of erogenous utensils lodged firmly into their lower holes, anal and vaginal.

It was easy to remove the embedded toys but there was a distressing number of them stuck deep inside, with their exit came a literal flood of orgasming nectar now that it's dam of lust-inducing torment had been removed.

Phil then removed each girl's gag and gently shook them awake.

"Hey, you two! Come on get up, you're in danger here!"

The first sleeping beauty to be roused awake was the younger girl, her eyes flickered open and she looked up, her hair was messy and unkempt and veiled her eyes.

Phil brushed her hair back and looked into her eyes, trying to appear as calm as he could despite his exhilaration at finding a couple of companions in this mad house.

"Hey, it's ok." he whispered gently "Everything's fine now, I'm getting you two out of here".

The girl didn't reply, she simply stared at her saviour with glistening eyes and trembling lips. Poor girl must have been terrified.

"I'm gonna undo these bindings alright, just hang on."

The girl mumbled something under her breath that he didn't quite catch.

"I'm sorry what did you say?"

"...ed...k"

Phil leaned in closer, his ear next to the scared girl's mouth, her voices was a sensual whisper at this range.

"I need cock"

Philip frowned, processing her words and felt a wet presence crawl into his ear.

He jumped back at the touch of her tongue, noting her eyes were now hazy and filled with a certain hunger while her once shy lips were now puckered, her tongue protruding from the opening with a veil of saliva seeping out.

"GIVE ME YOUR COCK MISTER!!"

Phil backed up into the second girl, who introduced herself by sliding her hips on his back and nibbling on his neck.

Phi jumped out of her reach and watched the two victims, broken from their torment in the manor, thrash about, struggling against their bonds and writhing in an attempt to satisfy whatever itch they felt beneath.

Their faces contorted into several sensual expressions focused solely on the man in front of them, their lips pouted and smacked together in whatever seductive manner they could before regressing into a feral bout of sticking their tongues out and drooling all over themselves, all the while screaming demands and coercions for their prey to come to them.

"FEED ME YOUR DICK!!"

"Please mister, just for a little bit!"

"Make me feel like a woman!"

"It won't stop itching! Please, FUCK ME LIKE A WHORE!!"

"I want to make you scream for more"

"Don't you dare walk away!"

Phil tried to get the gags back on but every time he ought it close, they snapped at him or knocked it away, so he put up with their screams for the moment.

Lastly he turned his attention to the reason he was down here.

There was one other woman on the bed, dressed in the honest white of a bride, she looked like a beautiful princess as she slept in her gown, untouched and unsoiled.

Her fair skin, blonde curls and velvet lips accentuated her elegance, she would have looked like the fair lady in any fairy tale if it weren't for the modifications to her dress.

The dress' skirt had been opened at the front like a showgirl's, revealing the scandalous yet innocent white lingerie beneath, her upper body was covered by a tight corset with a few strings undone and a black chocker with a padlock ornament.

She looked like a newly wed trying to entice her husband on their first night together, Phil wasn't sure if the modified dress was added for him or if it's what she was wearing when she was captured.

Looking closer, Phil noticed that a key was inserted in the padlock, it resembled the key to the mansion itself. Was this what he was looking for then? Could it really be that easy?

Phil thought about waking the girl up but not only was she the only one fully clothed (well, kind of) she wasn't bound up even slightly.

Plus looking up he could see the two other victims of the dolls hurling abusive threats and sensuous promises in equal measure.

Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice? Oh hell no.

Phil got on the bed and took the key from it's sheath, realizing that if he was correct earlier then now would be when the dolls would start to-

"I've missed you darling"

Phil looked down at the bride, her eyes were open and she wore the loving smile of an honest newlywed.

With warning bells chiming in his skull, Phil backed off with the sole intent of getting as far away as he could. He barely shifted an inch when the bride's loving expression and elegant features shifted to a slutty gaze and voluptuous grin. She interlocked her fingers behind Phil's head faster than he could react and pulled him close, ramming her tongue deep into his gullet.