slavescotty: Deviant ArtPREV ALL NEXTThe Doll House, Part 8 by Croft by l8xbrb2 MATURE CONTENT :
slavescotty: Deviant Art PREV ALL NEXT The Doll House, Part 8 by Croft by l8xbrb2 MATURE CONTENT :iconl8xbrb2: The Doll House, Part 8 by Croft by l8xbrb2 i 4 The Doll House, Part 8 - by croft (The Final Chapter?) Part 8. How it Ended They moved as quietly as clacking towering heels on polished marble floors would let them. Both had scant memories of the floor plan, at least pertaining to the area between the small dank punishment room and their individual ‘sleeping chambers’. The plan was simple. They lead one another through the halls, trading off when one found an area that looked more familiar than not. The goal was to find a door that actually led out, and leave. The halls were myriad, and the individual rooms that dotted the hallways, filled with instruments of pleasure and pain, were numerous. It all was strangely peaceful in the dead of the night. A peace that was however broken by the low hum of a motor and beep. The pair ducked into a room as an automated roomba looking machine shuffled down the hall toward them. Cold moonlight flooded in through mosaic windows of patterned glass displaying scenes of sexual delight, whipping and struggling bondage artfully throwing long shadows onto the marble ground. It was a training room they had entered, but the most sadistic kind of training. A treadmill was set up with shackles and a rotating flogging machine at it’s back, with a bit gag dangling from a chain attached to the ceiling. Other exercise machines, equally corrupted and kinky in purpose and design filled the room. They made their way through toward a back exit, one that looked out of place, even purposefully ignored. Luckily the door was unlocked, and the pair made their way into a dank stone brick back corridor. This new path forward was more twisted and dark than the last. There were no adjacent rooms, only more sparsely lit dark corridors. The path twisted forward and they followed it in silence. Both took turns in the apparent quiet to slice at more of their encased rubber bodies with the sliver of glass, freeing what they could as they went. Everything was silent outside of the sound of slicing and squeaking rubber as both refused to talk out of fear and a lack of conversation. “Is that a dock?” He said with a voice still parched by the long encasement and lack of a drink. A smoky dirty thick plate of glass, akin to an extremely small window of about 6 inches square gave them a view to the outside. Through the dirty glass plate a large sprawling lake reflected the full moon above the valley. A long wooden dock housed a docile speeding motorboat and a variety of small canoe. “I think it is.” Her whispered hush accompanied her attempt to push the glass plate out from the wall, a futile effort she knew would fail but had to be done nonetheless. “Ok. So we have maybe…however long until the house wakes up to find a way out to there. That shouldn’t be so-” *BREEEEEEEEEEE* Even through the insulated stone brick walls of the back passage the alarm sounded all encompassing. “WELL THEY-” The alarm cut off just as he tried to shout over it. “Well we’re fucked. They know were missing.” Both broke out into a beeline down the corridor. “Where do you think they’ll look first?” Their heels clacked like horse hooves in a frenzy across the stone floor. “I don’t know, I don’t want to guess, I just know I want to not be here anymore.” At this point they had gotten too far for her to give up. Not another day, she thought, not another day would be spent in this house of horrors. Their break neck pace brought them to the only door down the singular corridor they were traveling. It was an iron bound wooden door, complete with ancient latch-key that emptied out into a quaint old english kitchen. The major difference between a classic english kitchen, complete with wooden cupboards and hanging vegetables and a large central oak table, was the towering black mechanical monitor built floating off the ground and attached to a complex track that crisscrossed the ceiling. It hovered looming in the far corner of the room next to the door leading further into the house. It’s multiple eyestalks and operator hands were fearsome enough, but the multiple nozzles filled with murky black liquid seemed most intimidating. What the room also had was an old english iron bound wooden door, this one with a glass window pane looking out on a dock. The way out lay before them, and the only thing in their way could also spell their doom. *Bweep…bweep…bweep… Dolls Detected. Analyzing…* The monitor sprung to life, it’s many appendages revving up with a low hum. The pair dared not wait for it to come to life and they darted across the room as fast as their en pointe shoes could allow. *Dolls have damaged suits. Repairing…* Just as they reached the door a *THOOMP* *THOOMP* THOOMP* was followed by a trio of large globs of liquid ebony shot in their direction. “Watch out!” She was pushed out of the way as he leapt forward, his hands being the primary recipient of a black rubbery glob. His open palms were instantly sealed together into a bulbous black binding, his hands a useless mass of marshmallowy soft shiny rubber. With every ounce of strength he had he pulled the single mass apart, the rubber curing into two puffy binding mittens. The other two globs of black rubber crashed into the doorframe and adjacent oak table, expanding slightly in a splat and solidifying. *Do not struggle… Stand still while your doll suits are repaired. Resistance will be noted, and punishments given.* The monitor began moving along it’s track toward them menacingly. One of it’s many cylindrical body segments turned and another rubber nozzle came forward. It sprayed a continuous stream that both barely managed to dodged. “Get the door open. I’ll distract it!” She barked while grabbing a free hanging metal pot. Nodding he pushed to his feet from the scuffle and dodgework he’d been doing and ran to the door. While he did she swung the pot as hard as she could, a spread of black rubber spraying off of it as the pot connected with the nozzle of the monitor. *FZZT* Resis- *Crash* Resistan- *crash* Resistance noted. . * The machine was knocked off it’s ceiling track as the pot handedly brought the black monitor to the ground. “Fuck off with you!” She huffed in a rage, flooded with anger in her first real victory and show of independence since she woke up there nearly a day ago. As the monitor sputtered black liquid and died at her feet she could hear the shuffle of feet and the squeaking of latex clad dolls coming from down the hall. “Get the door open! We’re leaving!” She jammed the door into the deeper mansion shut with one of the monitor’s mechanical arms in an attempt to slow the oncoming capture. She looked back toward the door and frowned, her companion’s hands still completely unusable in their rubbery mitten bondage. He pawed at the door, the most he could do to open it. She took off toward the oak door and opened it herself, the fresh breath of outside air greeting her. “Thanks, uh… we’ll figure out my hands after we’re out of here.” He said while ducking out onto the dock. She took one last look back at the jury rigged blocked door, already pounding of fists and shoulders on the other side trying to break it down, a veritable army of living sex dolls at their back with the intent of taking them back into the fold. As she turned to make her own rush out the broken monitor she’d pummeled into defeat churned to life with a whirring noise. *Resistance…countered…FZZT* Multiple manipulator hands reached out and grabbed her in blinding speed, wrapping her hands across her abdomen in a tight hug and drawing every inch of breath from her body. A dying sputter of black oily rubber shot out across her back and glued her hands onto the small of her back. She pulled away with all her strength, crying as the monitor held her and the door began to break down. “Not now. Not when we’re so close! Help!” *CRASH* A pair of glued mittened hands pushed over well stocked kitchen cabinet filled with pots and pressure cookers. Her male companion returned just in time to save her, slamming his mittened bound hands down on the mechanical arms that held onto her body. The massive clatter broke the monitor’s hold on his female companion and crushed its last remaining electrical life. It also had the bonus effect of further blocking the door from the army of living rubber dolls chasing them by making a mountain of clutter against the door. She struggled to pull herself out of the tight self-hug but the rubber spray had cured solid. “Fuck. Just…come on, let’s go.” The pair rushed out of the kitchen finally onto the dock. Her run was labored as her own hands cut her ability to breath in half, and her companion’s efforts were stymied in his own way by his inability to use his hands. They made their way to the large speed boat, being the quickest way away from there. The sun just barely began to peak across the valley trees behind them as they ascended the dock stairs. “Ok…uh…shit.” She was wheezing as they finally got on board. There was both good and bad news waiting for them on the boat. The good news being that the engine was already running, a low hum running constantly beneath their feet. The bad news dwarfed this good news though. On the speedboat they were met with two problems. The first being the complex panel of buttons and knobs that neither knew the function of nor could use in their bonds, and the second was the key slot next to the driver’s plate, a slot devoid of a key. “Well…canoe?” As the pair left they knocked over a gasoline canister settled on the back of the speedboat by accidental stumble. Down the dock they found the only canoe not tied with a complex knot. The pair got into the boat, and with a fumbling handle the once male doll took hold of the rowing oar. They paddled away as an explosion rocked behind them, the speedboat exploding and cementing their escape. With the sun rising and the glinting of golden sun sparkling across the lake, freedom was theirs to taste, and it tasted sweet. For the first time in the history of the Doll House someone had escaped. Not just one, but two dolls. As they paddled down the lake in their canoe and to the gentle river beyond and whatever lay beyond that, the fear of capture still rung in their hearts. They were free, relatively speaking. They were also prisoners still, bound in rubber suits and various bondage, and just one bad turn away from being recaptured. In truth the Doll House had grown lazy in its pursuit to capture and make more rubber dolls. A mistake the complex algorithm of computer parts would not make again, as it immediately began to map out hundreds of contingencies for these solitary two escaped dolls. It projected their escape trajectory, where they could hit shore at, what civilization they could find, and who they could seek for help. It would get them back, somehow and somewhere, they would be returned to the Doll House and made to serve the cause of rubber servitude. It would also quash any rebellion this sole escape would ember, and make stronger safeguards against this ever happening again. The automated House analyzed the video feeds and found the exact moment defiance had begun. Immediately it began to reinforce its endless series of rubber beds, and equipped it’s nighttime monitors with software upgrades to spot more rigorous escape attempts. The Doll House wasn’t happy, as far as a cold mechanical house could be unhappy. It would fix all the holes in its defenses, and it would get back what it owned. No one escapes the Doll House, no one. www.furaffinity.net/view/23930… -- source link