When he woke up Philip just stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. His mind was still groggy and his body was reluctant to make any kind of move.
He was completely naked, his clothes had vanished and yet he felt cleaner compared how he was when trapped under a horde of horny living dolls.
Maybe they bathed him before leaving him? That is, if there was any trace of sanity left in them.
Phil was doing his best to keep his eyes open as he lay in the bed, even blinking flashed images of those glazed eyes drowning in lust, the twisting bodies in their carnal dance atop his cock, and the mother and daughter from the picture that old crone showed him.
The old crone...what did she say again? Be on your guard and leave as soon as possible.
Great advice, but there was something else. A brief worry fluttered into his thoughts and lingered just beyond his reach. Something the crone said that had confused him at the time but was beginning to make sense as he lay there numb and dazed.
Ah right.
If you're the one she has chosen...
She?
A flash of purple invaded his mind, the memory of a spellbinding gaze cast from violet eyes.
The girl in the attic was by far the most captivating enigma the mansion had revealed to Philip and even now he couldn't understand why.
What little glimpse he caught of her was brief as he would pass out almost immediately afterwards and yet his brain refused to write her off as a simple mirage created from an exhausted state.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up in the bed, regardless of how many mysteries surrounded the house, it was clear that he was in danger and needed to escape.
As he looked around the room his eyes rested on a figure standing sentinel in the corner of the room. He didn't flinch nor did he startle but a creeping unease settled over him as he watched it, goosebumps broke out over his body, he broke into a silent sweat and he felt his dick harden as he remembered the things the doll and it's kind did to him before he fell unconscious from exhaustion.
The doll was like the others of it's kind, pale skinned, slender and beautiful. The only thing separating each doll from each other were their hair styles and colour as well as their eyes.
They were practically indistinguishable from a regular human if not for the visible ball joints on it's elbows, knees and waist.
Though it wouldn't have mattered since they must have been human at one point.
Phil remembered the two dolls that joined in his reverse rape that bore a tragic resemblance to the mother and daughter that recently went missing after entering this cursed placed.
Normally Phil felt he should have written it off as a coincidence, or that whoever was responsible was simply pulling a macabre joke by making the dolls' likeness equal to the missing victims.
He felt like it would have been natural to do so, if only to deny the reality of a strange, absurd world he was currently trapped in.
But a part of himself knew, not guessed or assumed; knew, that these dolls were humans.
That this is the fate of all women who come into this home.
He approached the doll, a young lady with light brown hair that exploded into curls and small hazel eyes, freckles surprisingly dotted her cheeks and across her breasts.
She was holding a small card, the front had written on it in elegant font;
Two more attempts remain, good luck.
Phil felt his cheeks flush, was that orgy his first failure? What counted as a failure? The act of being caught or the act of falling unconscious?
He flipped the card around to reveal another message on the back;
Journey to the basement and kiss the bride.
On the bright side the instructions were simplistic, though that only served to fuel his nerves more.
Surely there was a trap waiting for him, another group of dolls ready to molest him or something worse?
Phil left the room and walked down the corridor, though he was the only person present in the house he felt rather uncomfortable walking in the nude so openly but couldn't find an alternative way to dress without hindering his movement should he need to make an escape.
He passed more dolls on his way to the foyer staircase but none of them appeared to wake up or attack him.
Presumably, the dolls would leave him alone until he had the key but it was better to remain cautious regardless.
He made it to the basement door without incident, or rather what he assumed was the basement door.
It was an iron door he saw when he first came into the manor. It was unlocked but heavy, and it swung inward revealing stone steps that descended into the gloom, a stuffy, oppressive atmosphere loomed over the staircase.
Phil left the door open and descended, using the light to help guide him down the steps as much as possible.
The stone was deathly cold against his bare feet, each step sent shivers up his body as he walked practically blind into the yawning abyss.
Deeper and deeper he went, beyond the guardian gaze of the light until he reached yet another heavy iron door.
He pushed it open, the metal scraping unbearably loud against the cobbles revealing another dark room abandoned by light.
Philip paused for a moment before returning to the foyer. After looking around he found the best light source he could; a single wax candle unused and ready and a box of matches before returning to the darkness armed with a feeble flame to help him see.
The room was expansive, it was impossible to tell in the gloom but the room could have easily stretched the entire expanse of the mansion for all he knew.
Because for all intents and purposes it looked like an endless dark void of nothingness. But voids are empty and this room wasn't.
Philip never considered himself a timid or nervous boy but after his experience with them before, he practically screamed when he bumped into another doll in the dark.
After a brief panic attack which almost had him drop the candle and his only source of light, Phil a few deep breaths and, steeling himself for his nervous journey, pushed on into the darkness.
The doll he saw had the same physical properties as the previous dolls he encountered, the same fair skin, pupil-less eyes and ball-joint connectors between their limbs and their torsos, however certain physical properties were more than obviously tweaked.
For one thing, the doll was much larger than the previous ones, standing 7-8 feet tall and towering over Philip. Also, her breasts and ass had received a cartoonish boost in mass too, juxtaposed to the slender waist and delicate features, the sight was too absurd for words, like one of those tacky porn artists had brought their oversized bimbos to life, he couldn't help but laugh at what he was gawping at.
But that laugh died in his mouth as quickly as it was summoned. He knew exactly what these dolls were made for and the level of assertiveness they used to dominate their prey, a behemoth like this would would drain him in a far more rapacious manner than the previous inhabitants showed.
Phil also took note of several other things; the first being was that there were many more dolls of equally comical proportions lining the entire walls of the room, their lifeless stares and glassy eyes added a hauntingly sombre tone to the infinite silence of the basement.
A tone enhanced when Philip began lighting the wall mounted lanterns to get a more stable light source in the gloom and noticed that each doll was chained up to the wall.
Black iron chains coiled from ringlets bolted into the cobble walls and fastened themselves to rusty anklets on each of the enlarged dolls. In the light of the dancing flames, it was as if the chains were swallowing the light shining onto them instead of reflecting the glow back.
The other thing that set them apart from the upstairs dolls was that unlike them, these dolls all looked the same.
The same raven black hair, falling low to their calves and melding into the darkness around them.
The same dark blue eyes like a bottomless ocean that drew you into it's unfathomable depths with the intention of drowning you.
The same physique, the same face, they were all carbon copies of one another.
And that they each looked far too familiar for his comfort, every time he saw them his chest tightened and his body flushed with heat. He could feel his body break out into a cold sweat like it was remembering something his mind was ignoring.
Phil traversed the walls of the basement, taking care not to stray to close to the dolls in case they "activated" and only got close to light any lanterns he found.
Eventually Phil made a complete circuit and found, to his annoyance, that not a single doll gave any indication that it was the "bride" he was searching for.
Phil then switched his attention to the still unlit centre of the cold room, the shy flames around the walls struggled to reach the no man's land shrouded in a blanket of darkness but every so often, they would offer a glimpse at a large shape that sat patiently in the gloom.
It was either a structure that would offer another clue or, more likely, another doll.
Phil made his way back to the door he came from and opened it slightly, enough for his skinny frame to slip through and dissuade any oversized pursuers from following if he needed to make a quick break for it.
Then, steeling his nerves, the young fool plunged into the obscure void.
He walked slow and quietly, afraid of bumping into something in the dark and of the dolls' reaction to any loud noise, he still had no idea what exactly caused them to awaken specifically last time and wasn't intending to chance fate.
As he got closer, his dying candle managed to pick out a jagged and thin entity dangling from the ceiling to the ground before looping back up to the unseen heavens like a lifeless serpent.
Phil reached out and grabbed the chain, the iron colder than the touch of death itself, there was no knowing the outcome of pulling the chain and there's was no reason to suspect the house conformed to a natural sense of logic or architecture.
If humans can be turned into dolls within this mansion then anything could potentially be possible.
That being said, his candle was ill effective and the lanterns were too far to make for any useful source of illumination so there must have been at least one other source of light for the middle ground.
