The Witch's Dollhouse Pt. 02

Startled, Phil attempted to buck her off of him but she wrapped her supple legs around his waist and tightened her grip. Cocooned by her limbs and assaulted by her french kiss, Phil was too tightly trapped to be able to offer any acceptable resistance.

Any attempt at pulling away was futile, her arms were crossed firmly behind his neck, melding his face to hers as she continued her fierce kiss, the aggressive movements of her tongue were like a cat batting a defenceless mouse to and fro.

Phil managed to manoeuvrer his hands in-between their bodies but lacked any leverage to dislodge his attacker. His hands drifted from the insane spouse's stomach to her chest where it found refuge on her modest mounds. Phil squeezed hard, hoping he could stimulate her into weakening her grip, but all he managed to achieve was to encourage her to act more passionately.

Her screams of blissful pleasure were sent directly down Phil's throat and the taste of her breathe lingered in the space where their mouths connected.

Her assertive tongue made it agonizing to breathe and the kiss was cancelled only for a second of breath before her tongue snaked back into his mouth, the fresh air they took in was shared between them and quickly turned stale and hot in the lewd atmosphere.

Unable to push her away, Phil opted for a plan B and kneaded her breasts with added enthusiasm, the sweat of her body making it easier to entice her mammaries out of their corset prison.

Free to the world, every touch to her breasts begot greater stimulation than before, her moans grew louder and more obscene, filling her lover's head with echoes of lust and making his head spin.

But he persevered.

Taking her nipples inbetween his fingers Phil twisted and pulled as much as he could, no matter how painful he thought it would get, he needed to throw this woman off.

Fortunately this was more than what the lascivious lady could handle, her arms relaxed their grip on Phil's head and she broke off the kiss to indulge in her ecstasy.

Philip rose from her body, taking in gulps of air as he did so. He caught a glimpse at the other captive women watching with intense focus, their breathing erratic and heavy with lust.

Phil continued to squeeze the bride's nipples for a moment longer before snatching up the key from the bedsheets. He now had what he came for and now it was time to make his exit.

Disentangling himself from the woman's legs, Phil started to crawl off the bed but as he reached the edge, slender arms reached for him from behind, their fingers clawing into his hair and pulling his face into the moist panties of his assaulter.

"Not yet honey!" She purred as her hips grinded Phil deeper into her folds. "I still need more of you. Stay there...mmm...just a while longer..."

Phil tried to escape but her thighs gripped his skull like a vice, refusing to permit his leave until he had tasted her fully. Her pussy, sealed behind silk and lace, was slick in feminine oils and the natural perfume of perverse want pervaded the air and swamped Philip's senses. Her sweaty thighs scissoring his head, her fingers entwined in his messy locks and her drenched panties smearing his face with her scent, Phil was truly trapped in heavenly-hellish pleasure.

His nose had speared into her plump labia where it became engulfed in the odour of a harlot in heat, a somewhat surly smell that was more akin to a swamp devouring those that enter and never granting them freedom.

And his tongue became familiar with the taste of her body as liquids secreted from the panties where they invaded Phil's mouth and mixed with his saliva, concocting a sinister flavour that had him unconsciously seek out more, suckling at the pussy and prodding it with his tongue to take in more of her essence.

However, his conscious mind rebelled, unwilling to accept defeat when escape was so close at hand it attempted to pry the bride's legs off of his head.

When that failed he resorted to slapping her, the crack of skin on skin reverberated throughout the stone chamber alongside a short-lived squeal. The slaps steadily increased in ferocity until the young man let loose any inhibitions against harming the bride, who was still, despite everything, a victim like himself, curling his hands into fists and pummelling the young bride.

But no matter how hard he hit her, it only seemed to entice her further; her moans increased in volume, her grip tightened and her juices became more pungent and bountiful.

"OH...oh my goooOOOH!! I never...mmmm...knew you were...Oh Yes!!...Such a beast..."

Suddenly her legs shifted and Phil was dragged further up her body, until his head was lodged firmly between her breasts.

Her legs closed over him again only this time, trapping his arms as well, denying him the ability to retaliate and push her off now.

The heat of her body made it difficult to breath properly and the salty taste of sweat was present all around him.

With a giggle, his captor loosened her grip on his head which he greeted with a gulp of fresh air.

"Get off of me you bi-uurrgh!"

Phil's complaints were muffled when he was forced back down, this time into one of her breasts.

His mouth closed over one of her nipples, his tongue automatically sought out the hard nub, flicking at the erect maternal tower and drawing out innocent cries of pleasure.

I can't stop! Phil thought to himself. I want to stop, but it's like my body is in auto pilot.

"So rough! More my darling. My dear sweet darling. Ravish your bride like a beast would!"

You're not my bride! Wake up woman!

With how deep the madwoman was pressing him into her chest, communication was impossible. Every word came out like a violent mutter which seemed to tickle the vixen to no end.

Every so often she would allow Phil a moment of respite away from the pillowy tomb of her cleavage but he'd only managed to achieve a single breath before being forced back under, trapped in the valley of her sweaty tits or forced to gorge upon one or the other. Her hips, meanwhile, gyrated on his belly, slathering his torso with her pussy juices. On the lowest point of her hip movements, Phil could feel his glands meet her tender cheeks briefly before they were whisked away by blind lust, each touch more torturous than the last.

In his struggles to break free, his fervent lover apparently mistook his intentions and rolled with him until she was on top.

Smiling down with a flushed face, the young girl looked more like a predator cornering it's prey than a bride accepting her dearly beloved.

"Ooooh darling you naughty boy. Now it's my turn to play the brute".

Now? What about what was happening earlier?

Ignoring his inner questions, Phil tried to reason with the girl, perhaps he could still convince her to stop her madness.

"Wake up already!" he yelled. "I'm not your 'darling' or whatever, I don't even know you! We need to get out of here, please! I have the key! I can save us!"

The girl looked down on her prey with a confused look, like the haze of passion had just cleared away and she was thinking clearly again.

Did it work? Was that enough?

Phil let out a moan, a cry of defeat, as the enslaved beauty began grinding on his shaft with renown vigour. Her seductress smirk, like a mask of fanatical desire, taunted Phil and his efforts.

"What are you talking about silly?" She whispered into his ear, softer than the faintest breeze.

"You were always my darling, even before I knew myself. Before I came here, I was ready to marry some guy I knew since my childhood. I even thought I was keeping myself 'clean' just for him".

Her face softened into one of monomaniacal admiration. Like the mere sight of Phil's face set her heart ablaze with all the greatest joys the world could ever know.

It was the same gaze shared by the nightmare dolls that had mounted him earlier.

"But then she made me realize, through the servants' love, that my one true love, my only love, was you. That I was born to be yours, that I could only BE yours and no one else's."

Philip shook his head before the intense confession of pious love.

"Not possible...there must be a mistake, there's no way it was- arrrghh!"

Startled, Phil's words caught in his throat as his rapist draped her tongue across his face, taking in his sweat as she went. After that, she leaned into his neck and took a deep whiff of his scent, extending the moment to an uncomfortable period before rising up until she was sitting up straight on top of him.

Her hands wandered up and down her body, one cupped her left tit, clutching the nipple firmly between her fingers, while the other snaked into her practically useless panties.

"There's no mistaking it" She panted lewdly. "Your taste, your scent, your body and voice, even your soul itself. I can feel it...MMMMmmm...it's just as that girl described you to me. You are every bit the man I imagined you to be."

"Girl? What, you mean that bitch with the purple eyes?!"

His question was ignored as the woman, now reduced to a bitch in heat, had pushed aside her panties to reveal a smooth, wet pussy, drooling as if in hungry anticipation for the dick it was nestling on.

"I'm so glad I came here and met you my love. Because now I can show you the hospitality this mansion's servants have been showing me, in my own special way ofcourse."

Still pinning his arms down with her legs, she positioned her hungry vagina over the tip of Phil's erect penis, it's lips embracing the head in a sloppy pre-emptive kiss sparking through his nerves.

She looked down with temptress eyes and a slutty smile, whispering in low, sultry tones: "Now let me devour you".

With that she descended onto him.

Her vagina swallowed his penis completely down to the root while her mouth engulfed his own in another sloppy, aggressive kiss.

Her pussy was certainly tight, nowhere near as snug as the dolls that came before her but it was definitely the untouched treasure of a virgin.

Phil squirmed under her feral hips, bucking up and down in an attempt to dislodge her, but she clung on tight, maintaining her advantageous position on top of him all the while suffocating him in an endless smooch.

The sounds of slapping flesh was muted against the roar of her moans and serpentine tongue that pervaded his head.

Phil found himself looking up and behind him at the two captives at the head of the bed.

I almost forgot they were there.

The two of them were thrashing about violently, their threats directed at the girl currently riding him, demanding their own turn, that they "saw him first" and such while they squirmed to soothe their empty pussies of their itch.

Phil was very glad he didn't free them earlier, he wasn't sure he could handle all three of these cock starved whores.

Then he heard it.

It was quiet at first so it was easily masqueraded by the bride's horny assault, but now it was loud enough to be heard regardless and was coming from all over the room.

The sound of chains jangling and straining.

All around Phil, illuminated by the lantern fires and the skylight above, countless dolls fixated their eyes onto the two of them...no, just him!

Some of the dolls masturbated right there and then, shoving their slender fingers into each other's hungry pussies or kneading their massive mammaries, their hands sinking into abundant flesh. But there were many, with feral stares and drooling lips, that fought against the chains that kept them from swarming their prey.

Could they even break them? They were definitely stronger than the average human but surely they weren't THAT strong right?

No. He couldn't risk it, he needed to escape now. If he stayed and they broke out then he'd lose his chance to break free.

First he needed to throw off the bride, and there was only one method that sprung to mind.

Philip began bucking wildly again, not to throw off the girl but to orient himself so that his legs were hanging off the bed. He managed to free his hands now that the woman was bucking her hips like a beast in heat, but instead of pushing her off he grabbed her thighs to maintain their balance as he stood up.

It was hard, walking towards a line of horny dolls without falling over while a sex-crazed nympho swung her hips back and forth on your cock.

Her deep, sloppy kisses made his head spin and with every step he took her pussy had already eaten his dick down to the root three times. The pleasure was enough to send him stumbling but he persevered. If he wasn't careful, he'd be taken into the dolls with her.

He was doomed if he waited anyway so he felt it was better to take the risk for the chance of freedom it teased.

When he was close enough the nearest doll, who had anticipated their arrival since they left the bed, reached out for her prize only to struggle to grasp Philip's ankle which lay tantalizingly out of her reach.

The bride continued to bounce on his cock, threatening to either cause him to stumble into the mass of dolls or have him unload into her pussy, he couldn't let this continue much longer.

Suddenly, he felt the nympho jerk back from her kiss.

She stopped shaking her hips and even looked surprised, then he felt her being pulled back, into the arms of the dolls who had switched targets and were now latching onto her hair, dress and pretty much anything of her that was in range.

She was yanked away so suddenly with so much force she barely had time to put up a resistance and was soon lost into the writhing mass of flesh.

Exhausted, Phil fell back on his arse and watched as his horny jockey was groped molested by busty dolls, numerous fingers snaking into her orifices and plump lips clamping down on her nipples as her once elegant, if a little slutty, dress was ripped apart in the rabid orgy.

Phil trudged back to the bed and found the key, covered in sweat and various other liquids, lying on the bedsheets. He briefly lamented on his erection, painfully maintained as he never got the chance to release what that woman had built up but there was a time and a place for that an a dungeon surrounded by horny sentient sex dolls was not it.

Just then: SNAP!

Phil turned to see a doll stumble to the ground, the chain that connected her ankle to the wall had broken and she was now free.

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

More dolls came loose and stumbled and crawled towards their prey, it was now or never, a do or die moment if there ever could be another.

Phil legged it back to the door, the dolls nearby were also straining against their bonds and one in particular barely brushed against his skin as he ducked into the slim opening he left in the door.

Panic propelled him along, that and the foreboding sounds of the heavy slapping of bare feet against stone getting closer and closer and the sounds of iron bonds snapping in chorus.

When he finally broke through to the other side, he turned back just in time to see arms reach through the gap with eyes enriched with desire glaring back at him, the curvaceous figures of his pursuers making it difficult to immediately follow through.

He didn't bother to wait and watch as they began prying the door open wider so that their bountiful figures could squeeze through, he just took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he sprinted up the cobble corridor to freedom, chasing after the light at the top of the stairs, the light of hope that would lead to liberation.

A hope that flickered and died the closer he got.

When he came to the top of the stairs, he realized that the light didn't come from the corridor set beyond the heavy iron door, which was now sealed closed with him trapped inside, but from a single lantern he didn't notice when he first entered the basement, dangling above him spitting out the last remnants of light it could muster.

He pulled at the door, defiance welling up within him, he didn't want it to end like this! But no matter how hard he pulled at the metal frame the sturdy sentinel remained resolutely shut.

He could feel tears in his eyes, he hadn't cried in six years, not since his first girlfriend rejected him, but here he was practically an adult now crying in the face of failure.

He turned to face the abyss, his back to the door, he could hear the wordless cries of the dolls creeping out of the shadows in faint echoes and the quiet rumble of many, MANY wet, fleshy bodies stampeding towards him.

He watched them emerge into the light, practically dominating every bit space imaginable, a tidal wave of meat rushing towards him.

Phil braced himself as the stampede crashed into and consumed him, trapping him between the hard door and the soft pillowy party of dolls in front of him.

Their boobs suffocated him, every time he freed himself from one, another would just be shoved into his face all the while wandering hands would trace across his body, exciting him further.

He was dimly aware of being dragged back down into the darkness through the wall of flesh, every so often a new breast would slap his face, a wet nipple on his skin or he'd feel a stray tongue leave a trail of saliva across his body and for the next minute or so it was him trapped in this corridor of blind sensations.

When at last they reached the bottom, one of the dolls reached under his arms and hoisted him up sandwiching his head firmly between her two breasts as she strode back to the centre of the basement.

Thrown back on the bed, Phil watched as all the dolls filtered back into the room, surrounding the bed in a ring of lust evoking images of a pack of lions surrounding a single defenceless deer before tearing it apart.

A doll at his legs moved first, pulling him towards her by the ankles until his dick was sandwiched between her tits, the sensation approached a tender embrace yet was simultaneously a crushing grip, like getting a bear hug from a peculiarly soft but strong beast.

His shaft quivered under the pressure of the malleable flesh, already weakened from the pounding it took from the bride previously it was incapable of enduring much more.

Phil growled, an animalistic noise from the depths of his throat as shudders raced through his body, muscles that were tensed from fear and adrenaline relaxed, his body felt a million times lighter as if he were adrift in the air, engulfed in a warm cozy cloud.

Another doll from behind propped his head onto her lap, her thick thighs working like a springy pillow that coaxed him from his restless worries.

In that position, another doll ensnared him with her set of well-endowed motherhood, clumsily suffocating him under the weight of her pliable pillows as she tried desperately to lead her erect and leaking nipples into the gaping maw of her guest but Phil didn't mind, his mind was already in a haze of immature sanctity.

His arms and legs were also occupied entertaining the dolls around him and the ones without anything were left to satisfy each other.

Soon dolls piled onto the bed covering every inch of the frail, complaining frame in an attempt to service their bedfellow, the gentle cloud he lay on suddenly got more and more crowded as even more comforts rushed to smother him in their warmth.

The violent relief overwhelmed him, drowned him in the love the dolls wanted to share with him.

His penis was snatched from it's cradle and strangled by another pair of breasts, rubbing and kneading his rod as if to mould it into a tool of pleasure for their use, which may have not been too far off.

Then, when the doll's boobs had reach their lowest and only the head of Phil's penis peeked out from her maternal mountains did the fake girl strike like a cobra, swallowing his entire penis in one go without any resistance.

All he could do in response was helplessly moan and fruitlessly struggle while being restrained by the nethers of every other doll around him.