The Witch’s Dollhouse 4

Author’s Note: Now that my university obligations are done for the year I should spare more free time for this…’Should’ is the key word, I promise nothing.

You need to get out of here! Run! You can’t stay here!

Phil’s soul seemingly screamed at him. The moment he locked eyes with the petite figure, a part of him somewhere deep down inside of him wanted nothing more than to throw off whatever bonds held him in place and flee, even if it meant out of a window of the top floor.

Unfortunately whatever tied him to the bed kept him from moving anything but his torso and head, forcing him to shuffle uncomfortably under the soft yet heavy duvet.

The young lady smiled and performed an elegant curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you at last my beloved, I am Cecilia Belbrook.” She stated calmly. Once her curtsy was finished, she flashed him a wide smile, somehow conveying both innocent glee and predatory lust at once.

Phil felt himself instinctively shuffle back under her gaze. “We…we’ve never met before” He muttered numbly. She giggled in reply, a dainty titter like birdsong.

“Perhaps not” she said “but I’ve been waiting oh so long for you my dear”

“Well either way, you’re the reason I’m trapped in here right? Let me go already!”

She watched him struggle futilely with a wide grin, like a child observing the fruitless struggles of an insect in a jar.

“Adorable though your struggles may be, they are pointless. You cannot escape me as you are now. Besides, you lost the game did you not? You were ensnared three times and now all avenues of escape are locked to you.”

Phil frowned. “But I DID escape. Towards the end, I got out!”

“You simply opened the doors silly, not only did you fail to step beyond them, but you didn’t escape the whole estate proper.”

“You cheated dammit!”

The young girl ignored him, pressing a finger to her lips as if in thought.

“Still, it was risky to let the spares taste you like that. All other mean have been drained dry at their hands.” She beamed down at him, her fingers fiddling with her straps and laces. “I suppose the fact that you’re the only one to survive is cause for celebration!”.

“You can celebrate by letting me go home!”

His insistence falling on deaf ears, Phil could only lie there and watch his captor undress in front of him.

Loosening knots and removing straps she let her Gothic gown fall from her figure, an elegant shape that curved and twisted into a supple body that betrayed the true age of the monster standing before him.

Fine silk and lingerie, frilled at the trim like her dress, hugged her shapely form like a second skin. Black like the rest of her palette, it stood out in contrast to her pale skin.

She turned around in mock embarrassment, hiding her body behind the abnormally long curtain of hair and turning her head to look back at him with a sultry smile.

Not breaking eye contact, she bent her body forward as if to remove the clothing beneath her feet, all the while keeping her ass up in the open as if to display it to her unwilling audience.

The curtain of hair parted like the opening act to an erotic show, providing him a glimpse at her shapely buttocks, still obscured by her tight panties but that only served to accentuate the shape.

Despite rationality arguing to not give in to her game, to resist her and try to escape, Phil found he couldn’t look away.

Slowly, in no clear rush whatsoever, she removed the clothes at her feet and the heeled shoes she wore, keep her arse steady and visible aside from the occasional cheeky wriggle.

Leaving her thigh high socks on, she stood back up and turned to face Phil, beaming at his flushed face and drooling mouth.

“Oh my, is the sight of my beauty so grand that it has you enraptured so soon?”

Phil heard her taunt and his body flushed vermilion in shame, but his mind was still hazy and it was difficult to find the words to respond to her.

All he could manage to do instead was glare at her, though to anyone else it would have looked like his facial features had contorted into a puzzled frown, like a man fighting to express two separate emotions at once and couldn’t pick between the two.

The young witch watched his clumsy scowl with a smile, absent of malice and devilish glee but filled with patient and warm love.

“If you show me such a cute expression, I am afraid I will be unable to control myself too” she warned, licking her lips.

Her eyes found his glare and challenged it, the haze that swamped Phil’s already addled mind had grown thicker the longer he stared back at her, but he just couldn’t muster the sense to look away either.

With a giggle, Cecilia lifted up the covers from the bottom of the bed and dived in, a lump on the duvet being all that signified the approaching woman as she burrowed towards her prey’s defenseless form.

Phil felt her warm touch caress his inner thighs first, slender fingers massaged his muscles and slid across sweat-slick skin before cupping his balls.

“It certainly is a fine specimen” came her bewitching voice, drifting out from under the covers. “The mere sight of it, it’s smell, it’s taste –” punctuated by her tongue running along the length of the flesh “– everything about it simply sets my heart ablaze. Ohhh how outstanding!”

Her flushed and heavy panting swamped his penis as her curious hands groped his shaft vehemently. What started as a gentle touch quickly ignited into a passionate motion of lust, the young witch’s hands pumped the cock they held and gained speed faster than her body flush into heat.

The movement lifted the duvet slightly and offered Phil, amidst his wincing, a glimpse of his assailant.

She stared back with upturned eyes, her face as close to his dick as she could manage, resting on his skin as if glued to it. Her idle tongue snaked out from her glistening mouth and crawled along the area around the base of the rod. Her other hand had reach out across his torso, leisurely caressing Phil’s chest with no real goal or aim aside from feeling up as much of her “‘lover’ as physically possible.

Phil was forced to do nothing but watch, flinching whenever her tongue flickered at his frenulum or gasping in morbid delight whenever she took the entire length into her small mouth, her delicate, dainty lips now clamping down sluttily on the meaty pillar, bubbly saliva spilled erotically from the corners of her mouth and flew away in time with her rough head bobbing.

The same tongue that spoke beautiful birdsong was now letting out guttural and lascivious slurping moans that dominated the otherwise silent room.

Phil would often glance up amid his spasms and see the dolls surrounding the bed just watching them.

No, not them, him.

They trained their focus on him alone, the same vacant and empty expression present on all their faces but there was something else there. A slight twitch of the muscles, shifting feet, quiet but ragged breaths, hands creeping to neglected nethers, their movements were subtle enough to be barely noticeable and yet they stood out more because of the unnatural stillness of the dolls beforehand.

They were growing impatient, watching their master going to town on the man that up to now, they had dominion over, must have been torturing their horny souls.

Though relieved they weren’t pouncing on him immediately, he couldn’t help but fear a twinge of fear that they might submit to their temptations and attack without warning.

“Do my delightful children frighten you dear?”

Phil turned back to his captor who had now defused her mouth from his cock, remnants of spit still coating the shaft as her hand heedlessly pumped it rhythmically and strands bridged the gap between the dick and her lips.

The slutty girl slid her body upwards, carefully making sure their bodies remained glue together the whole time. He felt the petite bumps of her breasts as they squished against him, her humid breath on his skin and the unmistakable wetness of her slit sliding up his side.

With her hand still tending to his erect member, she peeked her head out of the blankets, draping her body on top of him as she looked up at him affectionately, almost as if she wanted to let him know how much she owned him in that moment.

“Fuck…you…!” He muttered between breaths.

To her credit, the witch didn’t so much as flinch at his words.

“If you’re going to be distracted while your betrothed services you lovingly then maybe I can put my toys to better use…”

Without shifting her gaze, she brought a slender hand out from the covers and snapped her fingers.

The dolls blinked once and, as if receiving an unheard command, marched out of the room in an orderly manner, except for the three dolls Phil had yet to recognize.

Before he could ask her what she was planning, Cecilia plugged his mouth shut with her own, her greedy tongue slapped at the insides of his mouth, tasting his gums and dominating his own tongue, which felt clumsy and weak in comparison.

Whenever he tried to turn his head away, she reached out with her hand, gripping his face tightly as she held him in place while her thighs pinned down his penis, trapping it between her soft legs and his stomach.

She eventually cut off the kiss with a loud, wistful sigh, as if she wanted the kiss to continue for longer. But if she was upset, the mere sight of her captive brightened her mood again.

“No doubt you’re wondering why you are here to begin with” It wasn’t a question, she knew it was what he wanted to know.

Phil wanted to reply with as much dry humor and venom he could mix together, but the kiss had left his tongue numb somehow, drunk on her taste and too dizzy to continue it’s function.

Though perhaps, whatever she did to him, was to allow her to speak without interruption.

“You may not know anything about your heritage, but your ancestors, The Carlyles, where once noble Barons that ruled these fields some 300 years ago. They weren’t particularly noteworthy, neither abundantly kind nor distinctly unfair to their subjects, but the kind of anonymity that can bring is not necessarily a bad thing.

It was, however, in 1822 when their lifestyle would decay, thanks to the young heir, Philip Carlyle.”

Phil’s eyes widened at the mention of a namesake, he didn’t think he was named after any ancestor, in fact he remembered asking his parents about it once.

His grandmother had brought up the fact that his mother was named after her grandmother before her and that his father’s middle name was also shared with one of his ancestors or something along those lines.

Curious, Phil had wondered if he was named after anyone and his parents told him proudly that he was the first Philip Carlyle of the family.

“Did that grasp your attention my dear?” She had asked, interrupting her story. As she spoke, her legs began to fidget under the sheets, crushing Phil’s member against his body as she watched with poorly veiled delight as he squirmed sheepishly under her touch.

“The young man was like you in ways that would make you uncomfortable, not just in character but in appearance too.” She indicated behind her with a tilt of her head “perhaps you won’t be able to see it perfectly but that painting there is the young man himself.”

Phil strained to glimpse at the painting, but it was hard to get a good look at the muse of the painting with both the canopy obstructing his view and Cecilia’s incessant teasing distracting him.

He glimpsed at the mirror and managed to get a somewhat better look.

“Can you see it? That sloppy portrait barely captures his elegance in it’s entirety but it should be sufficient to notice a likeness between you two yes?”

“I…”

He could certainly see that they shared the same short brown hair, the same pale green eyes and a similar, slender build but he couldn’t really say anything about the image was a perfect duplication of his own image.

Though he felt an unexplained twinge in his heart whenever he looked at it, a painful ache that felt…mournful perhaps?

“He was a magnificent man!” The young witch continued. “So kind and sincere, handsome and humble, the perfect man in every way.”

As she spoke, Cecilia slipped into a daydream-like state, her movements slowed in distraction and her eyes unfocused and seemed to look past Phil, a dreamer’s grin on her face.

He didn’t dare move, letting her stay in her trance and hoping she wouldn’t rouse herself from the fantasy she was crafting for herself.

“We were in love! We didn’t need words of confirmation, ours was a love that words and expressions could not come close to describe. That coy young man, so much alike a prince, always too shy to let his true feelings be known, but I could tell how much he loved me in turn.”

Phil felt a twang of pity for his ancestor, it must have been exhausting to deal with someone like her on a regular basis.

But now it was his problem to suffer and thinking that, the pity turned to anger.

Just then her constant humping ceased.

Phil watched as the witch’s face, once euphorically living in a pleasant memory, now clouded by a more darker expression.

“But then that…that…whore! That she-devil! She took my beloved away from me, stole his heart and warped his mind with twisted whispers!”

Her voice, once reminiscent of jubilus birdsong now dripping with a toxic tone of a broken heart, her polite demeanour now replaced with a vulgar tongue.

“A noblewoman of a neighbouring estate they called her, but a harpy to her core was what I saw! I could see past the pleasant facade she had cast, I could see my beloved suffering where others saw the two in bliss together, I could hear his anguish while others spoke of laughter and love.”

Tears began to flow in her eyes as she looked up at Phil. She was trembling as she lay on top of him, it was a genuine performance of sorrow. But it was misguided.

Phil couldn’t explain, but part of him knew that what she spoke of was only true to her, that her ‘beloved’ did not reciprocate her devotion.

He kept listening though and didn’t interrupt, partly out of fear and partly out of curiosity.

“I tried to save him” she sobbed quietly “I tried…so hard to save him from that woman. But it was too late. He rejected me with lies and venom, rejected my salvation and I knew that he was too far gone. Her siren’s temptations poisoned him to the depths of his very being and I could never get him back!”

Her fingers curled into Phil’s flesh, digging in and causing furrows and scratches in her grief.

Phil flinched in pain but she did not draw blood, strangely enough.

“The next day, the two had vanished. They left everything behind to run away together. It was her. She stole him away from his life and luxuries just so that I couldn’t intervene in her schemes.”

She continued to relive this nightmare she had built for herself and Phil lay there, an impossible woman, two centuries or so old laying on top of him surrounded by living dolls in a cursed mansion.

As he watched the witch weep into his chest, he found he couldn’t muster up any sadness on her behalf. Something deep inside him refused to pity this…thing on top of him, so the next words he uttered were not of comfort but of denial.

“Not…me”

Cecilia looked up from her tears, startled as if she had forgotten Phil was there to begin with.

“That’s…not…me…” He croaked, his tongue still felt heavy but there was more feeling in it now than before.

Cecilia continued to watch him as tears fell from her eyes and tickled his skin.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” she asked innocently, the sweet tone cutting through her sadness “Of course you are silly, after all I made sure of it.”

Phil frowned at her words and the witch brought herself closer to his face, not bothering to wipe her tears away, just letting them dry out.

“My love…have you ever heard of reincarnation?”

With that she continued moving again, her crotch now straddling the tip of his penis, massaging his sensitive head with her silk panties mercilessly while she watched his expression closely. She smiled again.

“The belief that when humans pass on, their souls are reborn into another earthly vessel, whether as another human or a different species altogether.

“I suppose I could not say if such a process occurs naturally on it’s own, but I can say there are ways to…manipulate such a thing by force.”

Her movements grew fiercer, Phil could feel the pressure of an orgasm approaching him but he fought against it as best as he could.

He refused to submit again, especially directly to his enemy.

Completely ignorant to his desperate struggles, Cecilia continued with her lecture.

“When my beloved said those awful things to me…it hurt. And yet I could not bare to abandon him either even though I knew he was lost forever. But there was another way.

“I cursed him! Not his body or his mind, but his very soul. One day his soul would return as one of his descendants. It would have abandoned the memories of his prior self, the shackles that vixen had ensnared him in, leaving only the wonderful, kind-hearted young man I fell in love with.”

Phil paled at her words but in contrast, gazing upon the face of her reincarnated beloved, Cecilia flushed a deeper crimson.

“I’ve waited so long to see you again.” She whispered lovingly. “Watching your family from a distance, waiting until you returned to me before bringing you here. I love you my sweet prince”

“I’m not- Mmmph!”

Phil’s protest was cut off by the witch’s kiss, this one more forceful than the one before it.

Her saliva seemed to melt his tongue like chocolate, whenever the drool touched a taste bud his brain erupted into paralyzing euphoria. His breath escaped him but hers rushed in to fill him up, carrying her hot, bitter taste with it choking him with her essence.

Her ass had started bouncing up and down, rising high up before slamming down with incredible force, directly on top of his dick head.

His cries muffled by her mouth and his movements restrained by her body pinning him down with deceptive strength, there was little he could do but accept her affections.

With his mind growing more sluggish every passing moment they remained locked together, Phil’s focus and awareness of the world around him began to splutter into darkness, leaving only the rising sensations in his dick.

Cecilia’s teasing ass was keeping the tortured member on the brink of climax, leaving it throbbing and twitching for release. But no matter how close he came, peace hovered just out of reach and the edging of his rod continued unabated.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way but eventually the embrace was ceased and Cecilia freed her captive’s lips from her soul-snatching smooch.

Phil lay there with heavy breath, staring up at the canopy as it faded back into focus.

As his eyes adjusted he surveyed the room, trying to focus on every aspect of it to get his sense back under control, glancing at the dolls, the mirror, the desk, the door and landing on an unfamiliar grey lump that was definitely not there before.

As his eyes adjusted and the blur passed, he realized he was looking at one of the statues in the room next to the attic.

It was a woman frozen in a state that could only be described as if she were resisting something, her thighs were kept close together but her feet remained a large space apart, her arms were folded upwards but hovered close to her ample chest, as if in an unconscious effort to protect herself yet unable to fully use her arms.

Her face however, seemed all but resistant.

Her open mouth revealed an outstretched tongue, reaching for a kiss and begging for stimulus. Her eyes looked pained but expressed no hint of resistance, with anticipation juxtaposed with fear and hesitation.

Remarkably, despite being a statue, there was a disturbing amount of detail used, not just on a physical level but even deeper than that.

Looking at her, Phil could easily see the emotions she was feeling and a faint hint of life in her eyes. There was too much in it for him to believe that it was man-made, it felt alive, like it could jump up and walk around any second now.

He was uncomfortable with how ordinary the absurd thought seemed to him at that moment.

The doll that brought in the statue — The bimbo amazon — set it down to the right of the bed next to the unfamiliar blonde doll.

As Phil was inspecting it, he became aware of a faint buzzing starting up from the room.

No, not the room — from the statue.

Cecilia untangled herself from Phil and stood beside the statue, coming roughly shoulder height to the alluring trophy, admiring the figure as if enraptured with it’s paradoxical expression.

“Clever boy that you are should surely know what my dolls are at this point, yes?” She asked with a side glance.

“Pprrrpllll” Phil burbled in response, entertaining his host with his drugged tongue tripping over itself.

“At any rate” she continued “After I had cursed my beloved I decided to wait for him, such an act would be impossible had I heeded the laws of nature, so I’m afraid I had to resort to more magic in order to become exempt from the natural order of this world.

“You’ll forgive this bad girl for her heretical sins won’t you my love?”

At those words she flashed him a sultry stare and let her hand drift down the side of her body to her upper thigh, empathizing the curve of her buttocks.

Phil narrowed his eyes aggressively but if she caught his glare, she chose to ignore it. Instead she focused on fondling and groping the unreactive rock in front of her, her hands drifting from her breasts to her nethers.

“Eventually I determined that a man like yourself would deserve more than what my paltry body could offer you. So I returned to the home you had abandoned, slaughtered all on the estate save the female servants and make preparations to receive you once again.

“These dolls, as you’ve no doubt ascertained, were once people like you and me, their souls now trapped within empty husks created from inhuman alchemy for the sole purpose of being your ever loyal lust dumpsters.

“They even resemble the women who’s souls pilot them — which is why I chose only the most beautiful women to serve you — unlike my original batch to whom I was forced to share my own soul with.”

Phil immediately thought back to the basement, that horrible place swarming with the giant dolls, each resembling the petite witch standing before him.

Thinking back on it, he did find it weird that they were all the same compared to the diverse range of dolls before them. And why were they all chained up?

“I…I thought you would have preferred a woman with more…assets” she mumbled to herself, her hands absentmindedly stopped groping the statue and moved across her own body, tangling itself in her bra and panties as it, almost reflexively, ran over her hips and breasts.

Was she…self-conscious?

“Seeing you — the one before you, rather — become so bewitched with that vixen made me question my own beauty, I wondered if I wouldn’t be enough in your eyes and before I knew it, I had…well…

“I left them in the basement after a while, I couldn’t bare to look upon my shameful self-doubt given form but they would oft wander back up when someone knew entered the estate so I was forced to restrain them in irons. Not that it mattered, I’ve gone through so many chains keeping them from going berserk, it’s absurd!”

Phil thought to himself that he might have found this show of shame cute had it come from someone that wasn’t a crazed wielder of dark magics.

Snapping herself out from her self-shaming, she turned her attention back on the statue, her wandering hands now gliding lower down towards the body’s nether region.

It was here that Phil noticed that the statue was wearing panties. Not a part of the stone or anything like that but actual normal panties, a once pure white frilly piece now stained a dark grey from an unknown source of wetness, worn over the otherwise naked statue.

Cecilia’s middle finger caressed the fabric, pressing into the crease caused by the girl’s slit, moving delicately up and down.

“It was much simpler to just take these poor girls and pull them into a doll each, but first I had to ensure they wouldn’t rebel against me and would wait patiently with me for your return.

“Fortunately for me, the human mind is such a fragile thing, each of these girls have experienced heaven and hell for days on end, weeks for others. And endless pleasure of agonizing pleasure where I practically rewrote and elevated all of their bodily senses past the breaking point and further, all the while filling their heads with thoughts of you…”

At that she indicated with a tilt of her head to the doll standing next to her. Phil turned to her only to see that the impassive and expressionless features of the servant were now flushed a bright pink.

The doll had begun fidgeting to itself, mindlessly shifting it’s feet and rubbing it’s thighs together, now sleek with a film and liquid lust flowing down from her glistening maidenhood. She began quivering violently the moment he turned to her too, her mouth, previously pursed shut to hide her discomfort was now opened slightly as heavy gasps for air escaped her fevered lips, her wanton gaze locked on the man she was forced to serve as if she were about to pounce on him at any moment.

Phil struggled to look away from the erotic sight, her erratic gasping, her longing gaze, the drool escaping the corners of her wet lips, they all tempted him, captivated his attention and imprisoned his focus.

But what was causing this reaction?

“My word” Sighed the witch “Have you yet to notice? Honestly, I had hoped you were more observant my dear darling.”

Something about what she said made Phil’s head throb…no, it was the combination of what she said and the face he was looking at currently.

What was it she said? What about this doll was so familiar? It was an absent thought swimming just out of reach, teasing him but never allowing itself to be pinned down.

He continued to watch the doll, forcing his mind to ignore the irrelevant stuff, her blush, her pursed, velvet lips, her blonde curls and fair skin the fact that she reminded him of…

“Dah…ling…”

All of a sudden, the thought which had eluded him so thoroughly was immediately snatched up.

She didn’t remind him of anyone, she WAS someone.

The newly-wed from the basement.

Phil forced his head to turn the other way, facing the other two dolls, finding his suspicions confirmed when her looked at them, they too were familiar for a reason.

The plain looking doll with the rebellious orange steak in her otherwise dark hair and the tanned athletic body of the older woman — both phantoms from his harrowing experience in the basement.

But the three of them were-

“It appears you pieced it together, I’m so proud of you”

Phil turned back to Cecilia, still absently kneading at the stoic stone figure.

“These…these were…people…” He managed to breath out, the young witch merely looked on with a superior, if not proud look in her eye, like a mother appraising a child that scored well on exams.

“Correct, they WERE human. In fact they should have been dolls roughly one month ago, but I figured since your arrival was to come soon, I’d keep them around as my own special surprise.”

Cecilia brought her fingers away from the cold rock to caress the soft flesh of the blonde bride who melted into her touch after having been left without comfort in her aroused state.

“This one in particular I took careful care over. She had arrived here with her husband for a brief honeymoon, or rather I influenced their decision to stay here.

“After I dealt with her husband I took the time to comfort his grieving widow, granting her a new family and a new love to serve, in less than two weeks she was already a starving whore”

Cecilia frowned and looked into the infatuated eyes of her thrall who smiled back as if she was in the most comfortable bliss.

“She must have replaced her memories of her husband with you when I brainwashed her with thoughts of you, how fascinating but she is wrong!”

Cecilia shoved the bride out of her embrace and onto the floor, she didn’t get back up though Phil assumed it was less because of injury and more because her legs must have been too weak to support her in her current state.

The young witch returned to her assault on the statue, bringing her knee up between it’s legs, rubbing her thigh across it’s slit while violently tweaking the lifeless stone’s erect nipples.

“You are mine and no one else’s!” She cried “I have no rivals! No equals! She is merely a servant for you, but she is permitted to delude herself so long as she can carry out those duties.” She turned to the discard form beside her and scoffed “There is no greater love than that of a bride’s after all, even as a lie.”

“Statue…”

“Hmm?”

Phil had spent time looking at the statue now that he recognized the doll. His exhausted mind was working overtime to keep up but the fog that was obscuring his thoughts was beginning to fade now.

“That statue is…”

“Pray speak up dear. The statue is what now?”

“Real”

“Real…what?”

Phil was growing frustrated with her replies, and in that frustration his mind was becoming addled again. He shook his head and focused on the statue, not the witch, who was smiling playfully at her captive’s attempts to figure his situation out.

“Real…person…”

“You’re so slow but you’re correct! Oh how proud I am of you my beloved!” Cecilia began to applaud, beaming at her obsession before planting a soft rewarding kiss on his lips.

“Indeed, you are right. This is the real person, specifically it’s their body.”

She turned to the statue — the statue of the bride — and renewed her tortuous assault, the doll meanwhile, continued to spasm on the floor, feeling every part of her mistress’ touch.

“When I remove the soul from the body and place it inside a doll I make sure to leave a bit of it in the vessel I took it from and freeze said vessel to stone, that way whatever the body feels, the soul feels too.

“It was the only way to keep my servants in such a state of obedience while we waited for you, so I thought of this method to keep them aroused indefinitely — look!”

The excited young lady, delighted to show off the fruits of her labor to an audience, pulled down the statue’s panties — the one part of the figure that wasn’t stone — revealing what was underneath.

The pussy, quivering and wet, was not stone.

It’s glistening vulva leaked out forbidden nectar, stings of which connected the flesh to the sticky fabric which was now caked in her creamy residue.

It was here that the buzzing noise grew more apparent and clear and it was then that Phil realized vaguely what it was that was making that noise too.

Cecilia, leaving room for Phil to watch, reached into the agitated flesh and pulled out several long objects that hummed and thrashed violently in her hands.

Among the dildos she held in her hands, he recognized one as one of the fleshy looking instruments in the basement, a more supernatural looking toy that appeared less man-made than it’s siblings.

It looked alive too, while the other toys were buzzing in chorus, vibrating so strongly a visible blur coated their image, the fleshy instrument thrashed to and fro like an unruly and rebellious beast, droplets of womanly nectar flung across the room in it’s fury.

“I was most surprised to find that humans of the modern era would create similar effigies of the male penis, and with so many various shapes and wonderful sizes” She said with an almost child-like grin, rubbing her cheek against her monstrous toy with a delightful, if not smutty grin.

“If I don’t pleasure them every second of every day, there’s always a risk they’ll regain their sanity and break away from me, I couldn’t bare to risk such insensitivity so I stuff their holes with these toys.

“At first, I merely created doll-like replicas of a penis and granted it movement via magic, but when I found these plastic replicas on one of my…guests…I just HAD to make wonderful use of them.”

With that said, she slipped the humming toys back inside the holes they came from, still tight despite the volume being packed into them — perhaps whatever preserved the bodies in stone also kept their tightness preserved too?

A flood of fem cum dribbled out of the slit, both the lasciviously gasping doll and the statue’s.

As Cecilia struggled to pull up the still drenched panties back into place and seal the instruments of torture back into place, a question came to Phil’s lips.

“What happened…to the men..?”

“Hmm? Oh don’t worry yourself my love, I didn’t let them touch me, I wanted to remain pure for you, see!”

She said so in a most charming, oblivious tone, as if not aware of the gravity of what she’s done, all the while clambering up so that her rear was positioned just above his face.

Reaching back, she pulled away her panties, allowing Phil a brief peek at her tightly closed cleft, glistening from sweat with droplets of erotic juices seemingly ready to ooze out from the sealed slit.

A venomous aroma, tantalizing and sweet, wafted out from her forbidden place and took hold in his nose as it hovered mere inches away from his face.

It was a beautiful bud waiting for his touch to bloom into a deadly flower that would ensnare him.

“I had no use for men other than you my dear so I threw them to the spare dolls. They’re not operated by a specific soul like these ladies, nor are they fragments of a single soul like my…prototypes…downstairs…rather they’re controlled by a manifestation of all the lust my dolls built up over the years, perhaps my magic gave form to it somehow? Magic is truly complicated to say the least.

“Either way, I figured I may as well filter all that lust into that room, if only to prevent any disturbances with my dolls if I left it be.”

“What…did…you do?” Phil croaked once again, his voice returning to him.

Cecilia smiled and wiggled her tight butt above him, gently brushing the fabric that was taut over her slit across his nose in the process, it almost wound his mind back into a state of inactive thinking again.

“That room became an execution chamber so to speak. The spare dolls, powered by decades, if not centuries worth of pure, unbridled lust, were insatiable and unrelenting. But you’ve already experienced it yourself haven’t you, the feeling of a dozen bodies pressing against you, all eager to taste every inch of you; your sweat, your tears, your sperm…all of it.

“Most men could last two days at most before they’d break, you would have joined their number had I not stepped in to salvage your body.”

Phil froze, something about that statement was off. Something about that struck him wrong, why did she say–

“Salvaged?”

“Oh? Have you not noticed yet? Silly boy, no wonder you were so easy to capture if you’re this inattentive.”

The witch stretched forward, gripping the duvet covers, before throwing them away with a flourish to unveil what was beneath it all.

Don’t look…

I don’t want to look at it!

Somewhere in the corners of Phil’s shattered and fatigued mind, a small plea of resistance warned him.

It was like he knew, deep down, that she had done something to him, that if he looked he would have gone mad.

That the inevitability of his situation would have been solidified had he looked at his body.

But he looked anyway, because the voice was small and weak, easily parried by his rationalizing denial and confusion.

There was nothing wrong with him, he thought. My body is fine.

He looked down.

And screamed.

And thrashed.

Thrashed and flailed his limbs that he couldn’t feel, that were not there.

Ball joints wiggled in place of his shoulders and thighs, his body was gone — replaced with a doll’s torso.

“Oh do calm down”

In the midst of his screams, Cecilia plugged his mouth shut with her buttocks, firmly grinding herself deep onto him, yet he continued to scream, his muffled cries only served to pleasure the witch though.

“Ohhhh…even terrified you find some way to make me feel good my love. Our passion for one another burns as strongly as ever I see.”

Ignoring her warped affections, Phil tried to buck and dislodge her from his face, though such action is difficult without limbs.

She was also disproportionately heavy despite her size. She should have been thrown off no problem, even though he wasn’t much of an athlete, Philip was still bigger than her after all.

And yet no matter how hard he struggled, the stronger her grip on him became, pressing herself deeper on top of him until it felt like his face was beginning to imprint itself onto her ass.

“Even this looks like it’s raging most…splendidly…”

A firm hand grasped his erect, exposed cock, pawing and stroking it in a soothing motion, as if to calm it rather than to extract from it.

But Phil continue to curse and scream into her cunt, unable to calm himself down he felt something warm and wet slip onto his lips.

Before he could try to spit it out, the droplet of her erotic poison, dripping from her nether, sneaked into his open mouth and splashed upon his tongue.

Though the dose was minute, the taste exploded in his mouth, far more potent than entire mouthfuls of the same kind of toxin that flowed from the dolls’ pussies.

He felt his will fade, his anger calm and his muscles relax, all resistance was erased from his mind as he accepted the taste of his mistress’ arousal.

“Finally calm down have you?”

Though she continued massaging his penis she lifted the pressure on his face slightly, allowing him to breath more clearly though her scent still remained prevalent to the air he took in.

“As you can see, yes, your body is clearly no longer your own, I decided that if I am going to keep you to myself you’ll need an immortal body to match. One that never tires, that has no need of sleep and food, one that can feel pleasure every second of every minute of every day.

“Your new body is special, it will never run out of your seed, your wonderful member will never fall limp again and you will be able to satisfy all your servants with your boundless, infinite love. Is it not such a wonderful dream?”

Her voice dimmed to a whisper towards the end, indulging on her own passion as she drowned in the dream about to come true.

“Pa…nts…”

“Hmm? Still able to resist?”

Phil’s will to resist had already dissipated, it was the last remnants of his rational mind that clung on, refusing to be banished for pleasure.

Specifically one though remained constant with him, that kept him from surrendering to the eternal bliss promised.

“Mam…d…ad…”

That’s right, he couldn’t abandon them. His parents were still around, waiting for him to get back. He couldn’t give up if only for their sake–

“Oh them? You’re dead to them, do not concern yourself with them.”

A dead weight, that had briefly lifted from his soaring heart has once again snagged on Phil and dragged him back into despair.

“Wh…wha–”

“Did you not find it queer that your parents would take you to such a place and leave you on your own without worry?” She quizzed in an almost condescending tone.

“The letter you got to invite you here contained a hypnotic suggestion to lure you here, though it alone wouldn’t have been enough to stop your parents from coming for you afterwards.

“So I sent another letter to your residence after you arrived, one to hypnotize your parents into believing that you died in a most tragic car accident while removing memories of this place from their minds.”

Phil grew colder and colder with her words but couldn’t muster up the strength to resist her again. If anything her words only served to bring him into a slothful stupor more than her juices.

They think I’m…dead?

Can it really be so easy to trick a mind to believing such a thing without question, even with all the power she’s displayed thus far? It was honestly too absurd for Philip to believe despite everything he’s seen thus far.

Or maybe it was the one truth he didn’t want to believe, the one absurd thing he wanted to reject from the bottom of his heart in this absurd reality.

Cecilia simply giggled on top of him, that giggle erupting into rapturous laughter.

“Now you have nothing weighing you down and holding you back! You have no reason to go back my love! No reason to leave me! You can be together with me forever, and ever, and ever, and–”

She cut herself off, sitting up on top of her beloved and staring at the door.

“Hmph, it took them far too long for such a simple task, honestly…”

With a snap of her fingers and a pout on her lips, an unheard order to enter bade the return of the missing four dolls.

The redhead and the missing mother strode in with another statue held between them while the daughter and petite blonde carried a wooden box each, which they both settled on the desk.

Phil was drawn to the statue, he initially expected it to resemble another of the dolls present but as it was being settled down, it became clear just what, or who he was looking at.

The statue was a man, completely naked with disheveled hair and a slovenly expression, as if he had experience an ordeal so immense it left him catatonic. He wasn’t muscular but he wasn’t out of shape either, an awkward in between of the two states, and an erection jutting outwards like the bow of a ship, the only part of it that wasn’t made of stone much like the pussies of the women statues.

It was odd seeing himself like that, different from looking into a mirror it was like he was having an out-of-body experience in that moment.

Had his mind not been so thoroughly exhausted already he might have been disturbed.

The young witch eagerly hopped off of his face, striding towards his original body with a purposeful sway to her hips, letting Phil watch her cute cheeks jiggle to and fro.

“Now then, our night of consummation can finally begin!” She chimed excitedly, circling round Philip’s statue her hand drifting across the surface until it lightly brushed against his dick.

A sensation, like a brief breeze, passed over the back of his dick in accordance to her touch and he gasped from the sudden feeling. As the witch gripped his statue’s cock, the sensation of his own doll body’s effigy being held in a vice came to him. As her hands moved up and down, so too was the feeling shared with Phil as he lay there panting to a phantom pleasure.

Cecilia soon knelt before his member, looking up with a fanatical smile worshipping an erotic figure that haunted her dreams for as long as she could remember.

She pumped him hard with one hand, cupping his heavy balls in the other and kissed, licked and sucked his meat stick to absolution

with her tongue and her lips, all the while gluing her face as close to the source of her arousal as possible, slapping herself with it as if to remind herself that she wasn’t dreaming.

And Phil felt it all yet was absent from her warm touch, the unusual phenomenon flipped his brain on it’s head and made him squirm harder than before.

But he couldn’t cum.

Brought to the edge of what his body — his new body — could take, he experienced a heavy orgasm but no cum burst out in celebration.

His cock remained engorged on the thick cream racing through him just waiting for release, causing even greater agony as the witch continued toying with his sensitive dick.

“Not yet dear…”She gasped between mouthfuls of her beloved cock, a trail of saliva tracing down the corner of her mouth.

“I’ll have you…haaa…wait until we’ve…we’ve immersed you…in our…love…right girls?”

Phil was too busy focused on the assault on his senses to notice that the dolls had busied themselves with the two wooden boxes while he was distracted.

Now each of them held in their hands one of the flesh-like dildos that were used as their torture devices, though dormant compared to it’s agitated counterpart he saw.

Horrified, he had a sinking feeling for what they were going to use them for on his defenseless and exposed body.

It was perhaps unfortunate that they had another more diabolical use for their toys.

One of the dolls — the mother — held the false member in clear view and began to open up the base of the dildo, revealing four flaps like a peeled banana, lined on the inside with a squirming mass of ridges and bumps that wriggles in morbid anticipation.

Phil watched with grim curiosity as she brought the abnormal instrument further from the place he initially believed she would shove it and towards his head, settling the base of the dildo on his forehead.

He felt the slimy touch of the little bumps rest on his skull, hot and sticky to the touch and then–

A burning, shocking sensation passed from his head all over his body.

His muscles clenched as his body went rigid, he screamed with the foreign shock if only for his sanity’s sake, it was like a bolt of lightning had lanced throughout his body and ignited every synapse he had.

And no sooner did it happen did the feeling pass, leaving Phil panting wide eyed, afraid that whatever happened had permanently damaged him in some way.

Strangely enough though, while there was still a sort of pressure on his forehead, he could no longer feel the distinct, slimy ridges from before the shock.

The mother reached out for the dildo however, so maybe it had simply fallen over and she was trying to right it back up. At least, that’s what he thought had happened.

As she grabbed it, a tight pressure was felt on the base of his cock, the suddenness had him gasp out loud.

He presumed Cecilia was responsible for this new sensation but to his confusion, she was standing apart from the statue, a wide, sultry smile on her face as she watched him squirm.

The mother began moving her arm in slow, stroking motions and the pressure on his penis corresponded to the same movement, it was just like when Cecilia played with his statue’s cock.

As the pieces clicked into place in his brain, Phil could only watch horrified when he realized that each of the dolls around him now had one of the same fleshy dildo in hand, each with their base opened like a maw of thousands of hungry tongues, ready to fuse into his flesh and become one with his body.

“St…stay a—aahhhhh!!”

His attempts to resist broke down as the stimulation continued to increase along with the tempo of the doll’s strokes, even Cecilia was returning to her original position worshiping the stone shaft before her.

“Do not fret dear” she called over cheerfully “they are not permanent fixtures to your body, but they’ll most certainly spice up your time with your servants I’d say”

She gave a dainty little giggle, and then proceeded to sloppily take in the entirety of his cock into her mouth.

The feeling of having his shaft stroked and deep-throated at the same time was indescribable; like the witch’s tiny mouth had grown another inside of itself to torment him further, but even then the feeling of having one girl’s palm press into his flesh in the exact same place a tongue was sloppily caressing at the same time was impossible to process.

With Cecilia noisily slurping up the entirety of his penis and the doll firmly gripping, what felt like, the same appendage, Phil was far too distracted by the united assault against his senses to pay any heed to the other dolls.

At least, not till they punctuated his rapture with the feeling of sticky, soft flesh followed immediately by a tsunami of sudden, intense pleasure — blasting through his senses and flooding his synapses.

Every time the feeling calmed down, another appendage was attached and he was forced to endure the unbridled shock again and again in their entirety.

He found himself unable to catch his breath let alone think straight by the end of it. He didn’t need to look to know eight fake dicks had now fused to his body, he could feel them standing erect like he could his own original member.

The one on his forehead, one on each nipple, slightly below his belly button and one attached to either shoulder and thigh.

Though he saw it coming and though he had previously experienced what it was like to be teased in the same spot simultaneously, nothing could have prepared him for the sheer agony he experienced when each doll reached out and toyed with a penis each.

Imagine the feeling you would receive when a girl jerked you off while you were already close to the brink, now imagine that pleasure times 8 or 9.

Their firm but gentle movements as their nimble fingers danced along the length of his shafts while kneading his flesh with their soft palms all the while.

In order to keep their free hands from remaining idle, the dolls began fingering each other, drawing out orgasm after orgasm while they serviced their master. Some even strayed to other penises, offering assistance to already hard working hand jobs, sometimes it was a tongue instead of a hand, coiling around the erect rods and dragging them into their wet mouths, filling themselves on the essence and taste they gave.

Licked, swallowed, kissed, stroked and gripped all at the same time, the impossible pleasure should have made him cum from the start, yet almost as if something was stopping him from achieving such release, he was forced to remain on the brink of madness while the dolls availed themselves over what his body offered them.

“Now, now” Cecilia chimed, throttling the statue’s dick in between her thighs, her naked, juicy slit tortuously rubbing against the back of the penis all the while. “We wouldn’t want you letting loose this early now would we?”

He felt her slide up and down his shaft, up and down, painting his dick with her juices, marking him as her own.

In spite of the maelstrom of sensation he was feeling, the pleasure she was providing him was the most distinct and recognizable by comparison.

Her monotonous movements matched the rhythm the dolls were pumping and sucking his new genitals at and spiced up his agony more and more.

“Please…” he sobbed. “Please just…just end it—ARRRRGHH!!”

If his complaints did anything it hastened the speed of her torture, he felt her tighten her thighs as she quickened her pace, smothering his penis with her tiny, yet soft, body.

“I’ve waited centuries for this…” she panted manically, grinning ear to ear as she looked down at his peeking bellend with unabated hunger “I’m confidant you can wait a little bit longer while I get my fill!”

Her slick folds slid back and forth, back and forth until finally they kissed the tip of his stone cock.

Lingering on the head for a moment too long, savoring finality of her goal while Phil felt her increasingly wet fluids tickle his shaft as they trailed slowly down from the tip to the base.

And finally, after a deep breath, the small witch pierced her tight, virgin cleft onto his eternally erect length.

Phil let out a silent scream, absorbed into the immense pleasure, arching his back and bucking his hips as much as he could without limbs for leverage.

The penis naturally attached to his hips was left untouched by the dolls around him, wagging in the air unable to unload the building semen inside him, begging for attention.

The little witch was left in a standing doggy-style position with her butt pressed tightly against the statue’s crotch, the disparity between heights left her on her tiptoes but if it inconvenienced her, she gave no evidence to such with her enraptured face.

He could tell that even without effort Cecilia’s insides were naturally, insanely tight — likely due to her immortally petite body — but in spite of this she continued to constrict his cock greedily, reluctant to part with his warmth as her insides clung to him.

The constant groping of her servants despite his crushed cock’s condition did little to help alleviate himself.

“I never…imaginnnnnnghh…imagined…that it would feel…this…good..ahhhhhh!!”

Breaking out of her brief reverie, Cecilia stood up straight, one hand to her crotch and her right hand arched over her head, hooking onto the statue’s back as if for support.

She moved her other hand further down, tracing the length of the shaft with a single, extended finger before reaching it’s balls — a light impact which startled Phil briefly.

Then she heaved her body upright, wincing the whole way as the penis, buried inside her, shifted with her

Once she felt her body press up against the statue’s torso, she moved her finger in circular motions causing Phil to flinch in his bed-bound state. He noticed a creeping grey wash over his balls and the base of his penis, turning the root to stone to keep the rest of the shaft towering skyward with Cecilia suspended on it.

Feet dangling and panting with exhaustion, Cecilia appeared trapped where she lay, though that was likely her intention.

She attempted to move, hoisting her body upward an inch before collapsing back down into a heaving wreck, her insides fastened around his cock tighter as an explosion of warmth erupted from within, coating Phil’s phallus with a seemingly never ending stream of liquid lust.

Phil twitched and moaned in response to the feeling of his dick being exposed to her hot insides and warm juices. The dolls too changed their tactics as well, switching to giving each penis a blowjob while running their hands across his body, the added feeling of his penis being trapped in several flesh tunnels, drowned by overflowing saliva, several times over meshed with the constricting pleasure Cecilia’s pussy yielded and brought him closer and closer to madness.

Now utterly silent save her erotic breathing, Cecilia clung tightly to the stone frame and rocked her hips atop him with reckless abandon.

Without much purchase however she could barely rise halfway up the shaft before falling back down again, though it seemed more than enough to satisfy her lust. With her tight sheath plunging his cock deep inside her and the dolls tongues tasting every inch of flesh that entered their mouths, Phil’s dick felt like it was caught within the coils of half a dozen horny vipers, trapping him in their slimy bodies while he remained unable to ejaculate.

This hell continued for some time.

Phil continued to beg and plead but his cries fell on deaf ears so it wasn’t long before he remained silent and weathered out the storm. The dolls continued their endless service, some beginning to use their bountiful breasts to enslave their chosen dick while some returned to teasing his cocks with their hands, the variety of different techniques was a stunning spectrum of euphoria that no human could possibly replicate. His body was nothing more than a toy, powerless to do anything but lay there and take what they gave him.

He was aware however, that the dolls were still in a passive state and weren’t nearly as aggressive as they were the previous times he was caught by them. He could only imagine what would happen to him now if they went berserk while he was trapped in a body that would never exhaust itself.

Their bodies were trembling however, their stoic faces were becoming more and more flushed by the second, their eyes growing misty, their breath hotter and they were bringing quivering lips close to his own as if in an unconscious effort to meet him in a kiss, only to snatch themselves away at the last second. It was clear that, as bad as he was having it, the dolls were likely being tortured in their own way.

Meanwhile Cecilia remained blissfully unaware of the suffering of her dolls and lover. She came several times now, each one as drawn out and violent as the first with her whole body shaking from the feeling. After about the third orgasm, he felt her insides twist and warp around his dick as she twisted on her seat so that she was facing the statue with her legs locked around it.

Now in a position to bounce up higher, the feeling of her snug insides became more prominent than ever. She also took to melding her lips to the statue’s, kissing it passionately while her tongue infiltrated the insides of it’s mouth.

Phil felt this, the forceful, sloppy smooch was more than he could bear, especially since he had no means of fending off her tongue.

The choking sensation made him panic but his struggles were easily subdued by the more powerful dolls as they continued to drown him in their lust.

Eventually, whether by calming herself down or after remembering the state she left the dolls in, Cecilia briefly ceased her bouncing and turned to the bed.

With a drunken expression and giddy laughter she said nothing but waved her hand in a rather simple motion. That simple motion however, must have carried some kind of command with it for all the dolls soon terminated their teasing and stood up. The eight bare-naked babes then took a hold of Phil’s torso and hoisted up from the bed, holding him between their gorgeous bodies as they began to march out the door.

“H…have…fuuuuunnnnnngggghhh…” The witch slurred as they left, her polite, sophisticated facade long gone, now replaced with the vulgarity of a nymphomaniac.

Phil felt, rather than saw, her firm vagina pulse around him as he was lead through the empty hallways, the feel of her phantom tongue intrude into his throat and the burning heat of her erotic waters bathing his member again and again.

At this point, Phil’s mind, body and spirit were all battered and exhausted, too weak to argue back or even struggle, he lay limp in the arms of his captors — his “servants” if they could be called such — as they took him away for god only knows what.

They arrived at the second floor balcony over looking the main hall: the place of Philip’s final surrender and the tomb of his freedom.

Had he the energy or the time he might have scowled at the front doors and how they mocked him in his helpless state, but as it stood he was preoccupied analyzing the scene before him.

The entire hall was packed tight with a crowd of naked dolls of different shapes and sizes, some he recognized and some he didn’t.

Juices flowed out of their crotches and splattered onto the floor, marring the crimson carpet with darker splotches at different intervals.

At first they just looked up at his arrival with the same apathy they all showed at first. It almost made Phil forget that had he been in the middle of that horde they would have torn him apart just to taste a male’s dick.

As he thought this, a shudder broke out across the sea of flesh, dolls began to quiver before, one by one, each of the glorified sex dolls collapsed to their knees or just falling down into a heap.

Not even before half the dolls in attendance had been seized by this violent episode was Phil suddenly jostled by the ones holding him up, each of the dolls consumed by this quaking sensation before dropping him and falling into a heap or leaning against the bannister with weak legs for support.

A pregnant silence filled the air, spoiled only by the heavy breathing of each doll and the sound of liquid shooting out or trickling from the honey pots of the aroused horde.

He knew what was happening, even though he never saw a reaction this violent before, he was already too broken down to care.

Although, he did feel his fear resurfacing from the hazy waters of despair he cast himself in after he saw the look on the dolls’ faces.

They rose up on unsteady legs one by one, heaving and giggling to each other in contrast to their silent, stoic selves beforehand. A blush seemingly crept across their entire bodies, he could feel the heat radiate from their flushed forms form where he lay, liquid secreted from different orifices in their aroused state.

Some where dripping so much from their vagina’s it soaked the floor around them, others leaked from their breasts regardless of size and others broke out into what appeared to be sweat — or whatever replicated such function.

The Amazonian bimbo, who had been one of the dolls to carry him into the room, picked him up with a hungry grin, her heated breath tickled his skin and caused all nine of his dicks to stiffen up.

She then took him to the balcony and then, suddenly, tossed him over the edge into the sea of flesh below, like he was at a rowdy rock concert.

Phil embraced the brief free fall before impacting into soft, slick flesh.

The dolls looked at him in silent disbelief for a second, and then the crowd surged and he was engulfed among their numbers.

The feeling of being crushed between dozens of voluptuous bodies wasn’t a new sensation at this point, but now Philip had more erogenous zones than before.

He’d wince and moan when one of his plethora of penises was caught between fat, thighs, breasts and arms, his cocks still sensitive having yet to receive the freedom to ejaculate. The torture was made more unbearable by the unmistakable feeling of Cecilia continuing to pound her hips down on his real dick, her tightening folds suffocating the shaft trapped deep inside them and the feeling of warmth when she inevitably ejaculated on his literal rock hard cock.

In his limbless state, Phil was passed around like a community sex toy or a beach ball in a party. A different sensation overcame his genitals before he was whisked away to another group of increasingly lustful ladies.

He’d feel legs pincer a cock between their soft thighs as their slits drifted up and down the length of his rod, the glistening vulva embracing him like the drooling lips of an impatient kiss. Next moment he’d feel a cock wrapped up in a coffin of firm breasts, slick with shameless enthusiasm as wandering tongues poked and prodded the head poking out between their mounds.

A vortex of wet tongues swarming his sensitive penis, half a dozen hands gripping a single cock and twisting around the throbbing pole, an assembly of hot breathed lips pressed against his, winding tongues exploring the inside of his gums or if there wasn’t enough room, they press against any unclaimed patch of skin to suckle and taste their beloved captive.

At one point, his head was caught under another doll’s nethers for quite some time, her viscous juices ever flowing outwards down his throat as her humid pussy was pressed quite roughly against his own mouth. In this position, her thick ass was positioned so that the phallus on Phil’s forehead was nestled snugly between her cheeks. With an intense control no human could possibly replicate, the doll’s ass drew the quivering rod deeper between her buns where it tightened and firmly sandwiched the shaft in the crack between the inflated rear. The doll began to grind on his face, maintaining her grip on his cock while her pussy smeared it’s essence all over the lower half of Phil’s face, marking his taste buds and his nose with her existence.

Thrown from doll to doll, with no regards to his well-being, Phil was spared no time to think, he could barely let out a scream anymore, his cocks hurt so much it was becoming too painful to process anything.

And as the horde was whipped into an even greater frenzy, the problem of sharing nine cocks between the few dozen or so dolls present continued to hamper their fun.

To resolve this, they decided to add more.

The shock of another cock being fused to his body broke through the chaos of agony he was in like a piercing light in darkness, followed by more, equally excruciating shocks as more and more were added.

Eventually, the dolls were beginning to run out of room and had briefly stopped to retrieve something. Minutes later, a dull click (the kind you feel when you crack your knuckles for instance) followed by another, and two more afterwards and Phil was aware that he could move — no, FEEL! – his arms and legs at last.

It felt as though they were never gone in the first place and for a brief moment he felt the spark of life return again.

But it wasn’t long before the dolls fixed more fake dicks to his arms and legs, the explosion of pleasure eroding his returning will every time.

It wasn’t long before practically every part of his body felt like a giant erogenous zone, the wandering hands of his harem was like a wild fire spreading beneath his skin.

With his limbs returned to him, so did his courage and will to fight back, he felt he had regained some of the control he had lost as he struggled and swatted at the women around him, the multitude of dicks fastened to his body swaying in the movement like an erotic anemone.

But it didn’t take the dolls long to show him that he never had control to begin with. With no visible effort they gripped his thrashing limbs and pinned him down, continuing to affix more phalluses to his exposed body parts while he gave a token resistance in response, giving up just as quickly as he began.

He felt frustrated that he couldn’t do anything, the dolls didn’t feel particularly strong so much as his body felt insignificantly weak in comparison. Though if the witch’s goal was to ensure he’d be “serviced” no matter what then it’d make sense she’d make his body useless.

Pinned to the ground, he was defenseless as the dolls’ groping hands explored every inch of his body with no end. He felt another dry orgasm come as the increasingly pulsing rhythm on his dicks indicated that Cecilia was about to come again. The orgasm came quicker than before since more and more cocks were added to his body, sharing the senses across each new appendage without any lag in information. Perhaps Phil’s brain would have exploded had he been in his human body.

The orgasm kept building and building, and right as it hit the limit…

It kept going and going.

Phil panicked. He expected the feeling to subside like normal but it continued to intensify more and more.

Uncertainty getting the best of him, Phil screamed and as his voice escaped his lips, the white seed of his surrender surfaced from his penis.

All of them.

He rode out what seemed to be the longest orgasm in his life, the feeling of ejaculation amplified a hundredfold by experience numerous ejaculations simultaneously and from releasing after a lengthy build up. His cum streaked into the air, like a group of fountains going off at once, coating the horny spectator’s in his filth.

His body felt weightless and adrift afterwards, like all the stress chaining him to earth had been cut loose and he was now free to soar away.

In his stupor he failed to notice that a deathly quiet had coveted the hall, the dolls now sat silently, staring at their master caked in his seed.

His taste, his scent, his warmth, it filled their minds and consumed their every waking thought. Their loins overflowed impossibly and their souls quivered as they stared at the face of the one they all loved more than life itself, smiling in delirium.

Just then, something cosmically unprecedented occurred.

The order Cecilia imparted on her dolls and forgotten to rescind; the order to never take Philip’s penis inside their vaginas, was shattered. The overbearing lust of the dolls had reached tipping point and even overpowered the will of the one that should have been their indomitable master.

Losing all sense of self-control, the dolls gripped onto any of the now sensitive penises they could and impaled themselves on top of their beloved, screaming incoherent expressions of love in the meanwhile.

Forced out of the comfortable dream he had barricaded himself in, Phil had discovered the voice he thought he had lost when, one by one, each of the sensitive post-orgasm dicks was devoured by the starving snatches of his fervored hosts.

On top of the inhuman snugness, the inexorable flow of their feminine cream kept their flesh slick, sticky and, more noticeably, hotter.

His penises felt like they were being cooked, held firmly in a soft embrace as the flames of lust lapped at his nerves and set his mind ablaze.

The giggling gaggles of girls slammed down on his flesh with enough force to bruise, scattering their arousal as it leaked from their lower lips as they choked on cock or sprayed from the tender teats of their bursting breasts.

The deranged orgy continued unabated. The dolls now without restraint or interruption, now free to violate their host how they pleased had reduced him to nothing more than a glorified cushion, a throne of lust to relieve themselves with.

Hot fluids dripped and sprayed all over his body with such volume, Phil felt he was melting. The feeling of each doll’s impossible narrow slits throttling his multitude of genitalia consumed his every conscious synapses, had he not been pinned down so thoroughly he would have thrashed and spasmed with each bounce of each girl’s hips.

Though it didn’t stop every orgasm that followed.

Now that the restraints keeping his semen in check were removed, his seed spilled forth in unnatural quantities, flooding the insides of his concubines with a white surrender. Every thrust, every squeeze any movement at all, little or sudden, was enough to draw out one orgasm after another.

And the hungry cunts would guzzle it all down greedily, pulsing around his shaft as if to draw out any remaining cum hiding in the urethra like a straw.

The dolls were as rough as they liked, they continued bullying his body as they violated him thoroughly, giving him little time to breath and no time to rest.

Phil lay there as the orgy continued. Hours passed, and passed, and passed.

Some dolls would collapse to the floor, twitching and muttering with a broken grin plastered to their face only to be replaced by another hungry lover. Some dolls stayed down, a pool of cloudy liquid congealing at their crotches. Others hadn’t had enough and would rise again on shaky legs to shake their hips on top of Phil’s body

Ass cheeks and tits dominated his sight with the occasional blushing beauty coming in for a sloppy kiss, smearing her tongue inside and outside his mouth.

All in all, Phil lost track of himself and must have blacked out at some point because when his focus returned, he was unburdened by a woman’s weight, surrounded by unconscious beauties, soaked in secretions both his and theirs.

Time had remained ignorant of his pleas, and he ignored it’s passage in turn. The orange hue of twilight enveloped the estate, the innocent chirping of birdsong roused Phil’s tired mind, it was as if everything was a dream in that moment.

He could have believed it, had he not used his eyes. But the sight of his surroundings brought with it a tiring foreboding.

Phil, though free of the dolls’ affections, could still feel the presence of Cecilia, clinging to his penis like a lustful phantom, her pulsing pussy refused to rest and only served to make his dick feel sore.

As he examined his surroundings he noted that some of the false penises had come off of him, laying around him or trapped inside the womanhood of those around him plugging up a reservoir of cum within their sated wombs.

He made an attempt to remove the rest but his body ached all over and he only felt as though he was jacking off when he tried to grasp one so he stopped.

Lying there peacefully he barely registered to sound of a heavy door, groaning loudly as it swung open until the thing was almost fully agape.

When he finally looked over he froze and perhaps more out of reflex than command, his body began crawling away from the giant doll emerging from the basement.

The face, modeled after Cecilia’s retained an impassive glare but the magenta eyes, locked onto his battered form, screamed out boundless fantasies of lust.

She stalked over the graveyard of sated libidos, her large breasts swaying with every step, moving at three times the speed Phil’s nagging muscles could drive him in the other direction.

It was to no one’s surprise then that she caught up, snagging his ankle and dragging him to the basement while he feebly kicked and scrabbled for purchase.

He tried holding onto the dolls but their skin was already oiled up with sweat and the like so his grip slipped without much challenge.

With little more than a tired whimper, Phil was picked up, the giant’s arms wrapping around his torso holding him like a new teddy bear with his head nestled between her breasts and his sweaty skin sticking to her fatty folds as she enveloped him in her flesh.

Carrying him into the darkness as the basement door shut completely, Philip could only wait as he would inevitably experience a taste of the pleasure he would forever feel for the rest of his life.

THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR