Outside
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."
"Only 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."
"Let's go."
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 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.
