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The house stood just beyond the town’s most westerly boundary. An old state home, the building had for a long time been a constant feature of the land, becoming a well-known landmark for travelers and locals alike. The mansion loomed large and imposing, its undeniable elegance brooding over the surrounding landscape like an icon of timeless antiquity and opulence.
Though it had seen its fair share of successive owners, each and every one had left an imprint of their own whimsical desires on both its facade and inner halls and corridors. Every few years, a new wing would be added, or the windows would be changed to follow the latest trend or fashion. Thus, the house had become somewhat of a hodgepodge of architectural styles. This did not seem to matter to the house’s current owner, however, and in fact such motley craftsmanship had been a key factor for its acquisition.
The manor’s grounds spread over more than ten acres. Though sprawling, the terrain had always been well looked after by an army of gardeners and landscape artists. Wooden paths, lush ponds, and hidden winter gardens dotted its hidden nooks and crannies. A lonely wanderer could easily spend a few days journeying through the grounds and not step over the same path twice.
Yet, the house held its secrets, because that is what old houses do. The edifice itself may be just brick and mortar, but every old mansion does have a living soul that remembers. Houses hold onto, and conceal, whatever has taken place inside, and over time, whoever -or whatever- walks and dwells within the myriad of rooms and hidden closets learns to live with such untold realities.
The sun, now hanging low on the late autumn evening sky, would soon give way to its eternal lover, the moon. Reddish tones began brushing the world with crimson strokes, and the birth of dusk reflected wanly on the car’s windshield, bathing the driver and his female companion inside with an eerie, almost mystical shine.
The pair travelled in silence, their stillness only broken by the whispering murmur of their car’s powerful engine. Yet, the silence did not seem to trouble either one of them. To the contrary, it hinted at the level of comfort with each other. No words seemed necessary at this particular moment in time. Their minds were surely occupied with more fanciful affairs.
“The gate should be open. That’s what they said on the phone.”
The man nodded and smiled at her, his gaze lingering on the woman’s well-defined shape. “You look amazing tonight.”
The man laughed a little and glanced at her wry smile. “You know what I mean.”
“Slow down. House’s just ahead.”
He nodded again, just as the car went through the open gates, skidding over some gravel. Two stone gargoyles with long, protruding forked tongues stood on the gates’ supporting pillars. They cast long shadows in the fading light.
As the car approached the house’s inner grounds, the woman looked at herself in the rear view mirror. Perfect makeup, down to the last detail. Unblemished skin, long, red hair tied up in a ponytail, and a very elegant black dress barely reaching mid-thigh completed an image of stylish and contemporary beauty.
Her companion looked no less attractive. Hazel eyes, neatly trimmed greying hair, a dark grey designer suit, and white shirt open just below the neck made him look like a sports star, or indeed a playboy. Yet, his love and attention were solely devoted to his red-haired partner.
On this night, this good looking couple would embark on a journey of pleasure and self discovery together, pushing the boundaries of their own sensuality.
As darkness fell on the last smoldering embers of daylight, the car pulled into the manor’s front car park. Four other vehicles were in sight.
The man maneuvered carefully into a parking spot, killed the engine, and looked straight into her blue eyes. “Here we are,” he said, and a hint of a cheeky smile drew briefly on the corner of his lips. She smiled back her beautiful smile and nodded. “Shall we go in? They’re expecting us.”
“Yes indeed,” she said, and his cheeky smile turned into an honest one. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
The pair exited the car and stood motionless before the house for just a moment. In the dusky light, the edifice’s looming beauty appeared somewhat spooky, and oddly alive. Twilight seemed to lick the walls with lascivious irreverence. Up in the third floor, a dim light flickered with a hypnotic beat, and the high, slanted roofs gleamed with crimson fury.
“Some place,” the woman said, and shivered in the rapidly dropping air temperature. She scanned the house’s odd architecture. The darkening windows seemed to twinkle curiosity at the couple’s very presence there. As she looked, a raven landed on a balcony railing and perched itself there. “Why do they call it the Dollshouse?”
The man smiled and gingerly took her hand. “You’ll see. Come on inside.”
The kozyatağı escort pair walked together along a gravel path towards the Dollshouse’s main entrance. Small statuettes with erotic motifs flanked the path all the way. The woman walked in awe of the carefully and beautifully crafted stone figures. Here, a pair of lovers danced together under a lush fountain. There, three women engaged in sapphic activity on a large bed while a fourth poured oil from a flask on their bodies. The sheer amount of erotic combinations was nothing short of breathtaking. Someone had gone to great lengths (and even greater attention to detail) to make this place a true monument to sensuality.
The beautifully landscaped path led to the house’s threshold, a large oak door festooned with ivy that would not have been out of place in a fairytale castle, or indeed an insane asylum.
Two rather burly and impeccably dressed men stood at the doors.
“Good evening madam, good evening sir. May I see your invitations, please.” The man’s tone was deeply polite, yet his demeanour clearly implied that he would just as quick turn them swiftly away if the invitations for tonight’s festivities were not forthcoming.
“Yeah, sure,” the woman said as she opened her purse. She produced two laminated cards about the size of a small envelope with the letters ‘TB’ elegantly emblazoned on them. Up in the distance, two jays took flight from a nearby lawn. The flutter of their wings carried clearly across the nascent night.
“Thank you madam,” the security man said in that same polite yet firm tone. He took and pocketed the invitation cards and said “enjoy your stay.”
The second guard punched in a 4 digit code on a numeric keypad behind him and the large oak doors obediently opened. He motioned them to step inside.
The pair walked forth, right into the Dollshouse foyer, and the oak doors closed silently behind them.
Ochre shadows danced and jumped across a narrow hallway. Two open, roaring fireplaces, and two sets of overhead spotlights kept the foyer warm and capriciously lit. Two large mirrors above the hearths created an illusion of depth, which the woman in the short black dress found slightly dizzying. Nevertheless, the elegance of the place was rather striking, and very tasteful indeed.
She checked herself in the mirror to her left, and golden shades danced across her face. She tussled her hair, and as she did, the man watched her breasts become taut against the fabric of her dress. He felt a twinge of lust, and was about to give her a compliment when the foyer doors slid open.
A woman stood at the threshold, and regarded them with a welcoming look. Then, she closed the door behind her, walked towards the pair, and threw a curtsy, holding the hems of her wispy skirt with the tips of her fingers, in very old fashion style.
“Welcome to Teach na Babog.” She spoke in a soft, subdued voice. “Paul and Diane, yes?”
“Yeah,” Paul said. Diane nodded, all of a sudden feeling a tad intimidated and insecure.
“You’re both very welcome here tonight. Most of the house is open for you to explore and enjoy, but some areas are off limits to guests, and you shall not enter these. Please abide by these rules.”
Diane felt both awestruck and immediately attracted to this soft spoken woman. She found her voice strangely unnatural, yet oddly enchanting. Mesmerizing. If sirens ever spoke, they would surely sound like her, Diane thought.
But it wasn’t her voice that impressed her the most.
It was the makeup, and the outfit she wore.
This Dollshouse denizen wore white makeup on her face, and two bright red circles decorated her cheeks. Heavy, dark eyeliner made her blazing green eyes look a tad menacing, yet deep, and alluring. The woman’s wild, blonde hair was tied up in twin ponytails, and she wore a black lace corset and crotchless underwear on her near-perfect body. If one looked closely, her outer labia were just visible. Thigh-high black tights completed a vision of otherworldly sensuality. Her body gave off a musky scent, which neither Paul nor Diane could readily identify, but was intensely pleasant nonetheless.
“There are fifteen Nightsisters inside this house tonight. We belong to the Coven of Lilith. All of us were born into bondage, and raised within the bosom of our Elder Sister. We dedicate our lives to the path of sensual pleasure. With us, there are no boundaries other than your own. The Dollshouse is our home. Tonight, we open it for you, and many others like you. You may remain inside the house for the entire length of this night’s darkness, but you must leave before the sun rises above the balcony of your room. My name is Sister Selene. Any questions.’
Paul and Diane shook their heads in a motion that looked rehearsed, but was not.
“Very well. You may follow me.”
Sister Selene turned and opened the foyer doors with a gentle push küçükyalı escort of her hands.
The main hall of the Dollshouse opened up to a fantastic world of luxury and riches usually only seen in daytime television soaps. Whoever had created the mansion’s interior design had certainly spared no expenses. From the immaculately clean marble floors to the dangling chandeliers, the place had been made to look like a royal palace.
Paul and Diane looked awestruck, specially Diane. She looked around, her mouth half open in sheer amazement, and smiling like a kid let loose in the biggest toy store in the world.
Because, apart from the aristocratic charm of the Dollshouse, its theme was also unmistakably clear.
Diane gazed at the gigantic canvases, tapestries, and sculptures decorating the hall and the sprawling walls. One tapestry, well over five square feet in size, depicted an scene which could have easily been taken from an unabridged version of the Kama Sutra. The scene showed three men and five women engaged in sexual activity. The eight bodies formed a sensual daisy chain, with the men standing at each end, taking two women from behind, while the remaining four women interacted with one another using their fingers, tongues, or any other body part available.
Beside this tapestry to Diane’s right side, a large plasma screen played a movie. In the current scene, two men wearing carefully crafted wolves’ mask were fucking a blonde female, one through her pussy and one through her mouth, while a second female, clad in red PVC and wearing a Venetian mask, flogged her chest, drawing red streaks on the soft skin of the woman’s breasts. The flogger’s snapping sounds resonated across the hall as much as the woman’s muffled moans of pleasure.
But the feature which Diane found the most beautifully engaging were the two white marble statues standing guard at the bottom of the grand staircase leading to the mansion’s upper levels.
Flanking the foot of the staircase stood two winged creatures, ten feet high. They were humanoid in shape, and two emerald green stones were encrusted in their eyes. Their mouths were wide open, and large, sharp teeth and forked tongues were visible. Two human females laid in their grasp, the creatures’ tongues wrapped around their carefully sculpted shape, the legs open in such way that the winged beings could enter them easily. The sculptures were arranged in perfect symmetry, and the creatures’ scaly tails loomed well above the floor and linked about one third of the way from the ceiling. One could not help but stare at the twisted beauty of these creations in sheer admiration.
“Sacred deities,” Sister Selene said, and Diane nearly jumped. She had been wholly mesmerized. “They represent lust and desire. Sentinels of the threshold, guarding a world of sex and pleasure just beyond them. Would you like to explore further?”
Paul said nothing. He simply looked intently at Diane, that cheeky grin again drawing on his lips. Diane looked at his handsome face, gazed upwards at the sculptures, and back at him.
“A new set of guests is arriving,” Sister Selene said in that soft, subdued voice. “Make your choice, Paul and Diane.”
Paul took one step up the staircase, still smiling, and offered his hand to his companion. “Shall we?”
Diane’s gaze went from Paul’s hand to Sister Selene, whose eyes were fixed on them, and once again to the two winged creatures presiding over the Dollshouse’s main hall. Their level of detail was breathtaking. One could make out every fold of skin, every line on their bulky shape, and down to the erect nipples on the female’s breasts, if one looked closely enough. She realized right there that tonight would be special indeed, Paul had promised her that it would, and she loved him enough to believe him. And indeed, the Dollshouse had so far blown her mind. It oozed sex from every corner. No matter where one looked, there was some erotic motif to be found. Here, a canvas depicting a close up of a woman’s face covered in sperm. There, a tall vase decorated with a painting of a naked female, legs wide open, and a jetstream of fluid pouring from her pussy. The house itself stood as a monument to eroticism.
“Diane. Shall we?”
Diane looked up at him, and saw that disarming smile that had hooked her from across the bar, 3 years ago. She smiled back. “We shall,” Diane said finally, taking Paul’s hand. “Let’s go.”
“Remember. Freedom awaits you. There are no boundaries other than what you carry inside. My sisters dwell upstairs. Go and find them.”
And with a curtsy, Sister Selene turned and walked back into the foyer, the sliding doors closing behind her.
“Come on Diane. Let’s play.”
They walked right under the winged creatures of the Dollshouse, right under that wondrous threshold of sex and pleasure. Their hearts started beating a little faster as they climbed the grand mutlukent escort staircase, heading to the upper level of the house.
The sounds of pleasure became louder the closer they got to the top of the staircase. Diane immediately felt a twinge within her pussy, her keenly refined sexual instinct now fully awake. Desire began to flow freely around her body, arousing each and every one of her senses.
There was a landing and a short hall at the top of the stairs. Large lumps of wood burned brightly inside an open fireplace there. The hall was dim, bar for the capricious luminosity cast by the firelight. A few large cushions covered in red velvet were arranged near the fireplace, and a young woman with a perfect body laid on them. She was naked apart from a red blindfold and two diamond-shaped nipple clamps. Her hands were bound behind her back with cable ties, and a ball gag covered her mouth. Two Sisters were fucking her with black silicone strap-ons, one from underneath and one from behind. The woman’s moans were loud but muffled, and as the Sisters filled her body, the one lying beneath her pulled hard on the clamps, making the gagged woman cry out in pleasure pain. Diane noticed that both Sisters wore exact same outfits as Selene did, same makeup, same crotchless underwear, and same wispy skirt.
As they watched, the woman began to orgasm. Her muffled screams became louder and louder, the body quivering in sheer delight. The Sister pulled the clamps even harder, to enhance her climax. At the same time, the other Sister grabbed her hair and tugged it back. The woman’s crescendo of pleasure resonated inside Diane’s head, and she wished to be that woman, to offer her body to be fucked by two, three, or as many Sisters as she could get her hands on. Her clit throbbed wildly at the thought, and her mouth parted open a little. This didn’t go unnoticed by Paul. “Like what you see?”
“Do I ever.”
“Come on. Let’s have fun.”
They ran off down a long corridor, leaving the three women behind.
The hall opened up to a dimly lit bifurcation. Red and green spotlights cast a ghostly glow all around the beautifully crafted reliefs decorating the walls. Scenes from Diane’s own imagination, she could have sworn. Icons of beautiful sensuality welcomed and encouraged her to live and experience this night to the full. The Dollshouse had quickly become Diane’s favorite place, and she would make sure to explore every nook and cranny, and be fucked by Paul and the daughters of Lilith in every one of her own body cavities, in every position imaginable, and welcome the sunrise with an screaming orgasm.
The musky scent of raw sensuality drifted all the way around the house’s corridors, pervading every angle, every hidden corner of such monumental icon to the most forbidden pleasures of the flesh. The aroma of sex, intangible, intense, intoxicating, sensual, seemed to be inextricably linked to the house’s very own atmosphere.
Paul and Diane walked briskly, looking around like two kids lost in paradise. Here, they saw a room with a beautiful four post bed in the middle. Two Sisters were tied up by the wrists to the posts near the foot of the bed, and two men wearing hooded black robes were fucking them.
There, a muscular man wearing nothing but a studded leather thong was being flogged by three red-haired Sisters, working in perfect synchrony. Two of the females used cat’o’nine tails and the third used a robust riding crop. The man’s arms were securely fastened by steel shackles to a low-bearing beam right above his head, and he moaned and cried out in pleasure and pain every time his body was licked by the Sisters’ weapons of choice. As Paul and Diane watched, the Sister holding the riding crop dropped to her knees and pulled down the man’s thong to reveal his mighty hard cock. She ran her tongue along the shaft a few times, making that piece of rugged flesh glisten with natural moisture, and finally took it deep into her mouth. As she did this, the other two sisters clamped the man’s nipples with adjustable clamps and tightened them until the man moaned and groaned, nearing climax, his cock buried all the way into the Sister’s throat.
Further down the corridor and inside a room to their left, three Sisters were transforming a woman’s body into a waxy work of art. Each of the daughters of Lilith held a different coloured candle over different parts of their guest’s body. Diane watched mesmerized as long, thick strands of wax landed on the woman’s skin. A dark, emerald green stream ran most of the way down the woman’s navel and spread to her thighs. Her breasts were covered in reddish, amorphous wax. Her legs were decorated with blotches of brown and yellow. The woman squirmed every time the hot fluid touched her skin, yet she kept masturbating with her fingers all the while, deep moans of absolute ecstasy punctuating the way the capricious way the wax spread around her body.
They kept walking down the house’s hauntingly sensual corridors, watching, listening, feeling. Wanting. A galaxy of pleasure surrounded them. Even the walls seemed to be alive with the primordial force of lust and desire.
As they walked down the hallowed paths of the Dollshouse, they came across a small balcony. Paul caught a glimpse of the outside, did a double take, and grabbed Diane’s hand.
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