Turn the Key 03 - Open the Gate

CW: Contains themes of hypnosis, CNC, ménage and doll play. All characters are consenting adults.

I see the gates in the stone wall around the property swing open for the first time since my arrival at my new home with Daddy. Several expensive looking cars roll through the opening in the elegant wrought iron and I remark at the strangeness of the procession. It's unusual that everyone has arrived exactly on time as if no one would dare to be even a few moments late.

Daddy holds one of my hands and I hold Citrouille's collar in the other. I don't want to take the chance that he'll bolt through the gate. The property is so secure that he's had free run of it and I'm sure he'll have forgotten how to walk on a leash in no time.

I stand stiffly now in my tea length, rose-colored dress. The delicate pink hemline of the full skirt falls around my calves, and when I'd dressed this morning I'd not been able to resist swinging my hips back and forth to make it twirl. The short-sleeved blouse is ruffled with a large bow at the neck, leaving only a small opening through which I know the key hole at my hollow is visible. It's clear at this point that my Daddy doesn't believe in undergarments and so my nipples are also on display. They are covered only by the gauzy white chiffon of the blouse and framed by the pink dress which scoops low beneath my breasts.

My life has taken on a surreal quality, and it dawns on me that I now live full-time in a world of afternoon tea and garden parties. I'm not a stranger to elegance but I'm not used to such formality being a daily occurrence. Citrouille wags his tail excitedly and as I wait to get a glimpse of our guests, I replay the conversation from the night before in my mind.

Daddy had shown me my dress and explained to me that each of his friends attending the party would bring his own babygirl as company. Our guests would be very familiar with Daddy's skill as a magician and would very likely want to "play dolls" as the party progressed. He'd reminded me that it was his prerogative to show off his own lovely doll if the situation called for it, but promised me that none of his friends would touch me. He simply wouldn't allow it.

This may have allayed my nerves if not for the following reminder that Daddy was very much looking forward to watching me "play nicely with the other girls." That idea alone had made him simply feral and he'd taken me right there on the floor in the purple room.

As our guests begin to exit their vehicles I'm surrounded by a swirl of color. The other women look to be about my age and are dressed from head to toe in pastel and ruffles to match my own. I find it surprising that each one has a unique color, with no overlap as if the whole thing has been coordinated.

Not knowing their names, I begin to refer to them by color in my thoughts.Lavande, Bleu, andMenthe approach hand in hand with distinguished looking older gentlemen. The men are dressed with the sort of relaxed elegance befitting of a posh daytime event. As each of the guests makes an introduction and heads towards the garden, I peek through a gap in the crowd and see one final couple approaching.

Jaune Soleilis the loveliest of all and I squeeze my Daddy's hand as she approaches. We both blush as our gazes meet and I hear my Daddy chuckle as I learn her real name is Ana. Her blonde hair, cropped in an adorable bob, and bright blue eyes contrast with my own waist length ebony curls and green ones.

I smile when she offers me her hand and we set off together towards the garden looking like day and night personified. Citrouille lopes beside me and it's not long before he makes himself the center of attention, basking in belly rubs and enjoying the peanut butter treats set aside just for him.

In the garden are two tables elegantly set with macaroons and tea sandwiches. I sip a glass of sweet sparkling wine and strawberry garnish. Ana wrinkles her nose at me over her own glass and then bursts into giggles when I advise her that technically speaking, it can't be called a Champagne. I notice this time, that the stack of macarons seems to have a disproportionate number of the lemon and pistachio flavors I favor. Ana's favorites are the chocolate and I wonder privately if I'm the only one not wearing any panties.

Our table is set with some of the same floral place settings that I have become accustomed to seeing at my regular meals, although this time instead of a mix of color I notice each place setting is a single pastel hue corresponding to one of the ladies' dresses. It all seems very choreographed when we take our places and I suspect that the ritual is only new to me. The dollhouse is full this afternoon.

Strangest of all, I notice that one place setting, soft peach in tone, remains without an occupant. The mystery is solved when I see a latecomer approaching the group. A bit younger than the rest, the man is dressed in a navy-blue suit with no tie and brown loafers. He stalks towards the second table where the men are seated in front of significantly more subdued dishes and utensils. No companion joins him and I wonder if he's had a falling out withMademoiselle Pêche, making him late to the party.

Ana whispers at my side and fills me in on the latest scandal. I learn that the newcomer's name is Johnathan and that Ana suspects Pêche has left him for good this time. Despite his handsome looks he is known to treat his lovers' feelings with callous disregard. Ana tells me that she doesn't have any proof, but that she's heard rumor that more than just feelings were hurt prior to the separation. I watch my Daddy greet the man with a reserved handshake rather than the warm hugs and slaps on the back he'd exchanged with his other guests.

Lavande and Menthe seem to be close friends and Bleu remains shy throughout lunch. It's nice to have some female company, and we banter back and forth with the drama of the late arrival soon forgotten. We all fall silent however, as then men rise to a stand and begin to approach us. Dishes are quickly whisked away by a discrete caterer and by the time all of the men have reached our table, it's been completely cleared.

All eyes are on my Daddy as he smiles wide and offers me his hand. I rise to take it as he begins to speak. "I'm so happy you have all been able to join me in welcoming home my lovely Fleur," he begins, introducing me formally. I smile and blush before turning to meet Ana's eyes. She looks a little bit nervous but smiles reassuringly back at me.

"Now that you've all had a chance to meet my good girl," my Daddy continues, "I'd love the chance to introduce you to my lovely doll." I stiffen beside him before he even has a chance to produce the key. "It's alright Honey," he whispers softly so that only I can hear and tugging gently on my hair. I relax in his arms as he begins to speak again.

"You seem to have really taken a liking to Ana," he says quietly. "As a doll I suspect you won't feel any embarrassment about being watched. In fact, when I turn your key you might notice that you feel only pleasurable sensations. You might notice also, that while normally you are unable to move unless I pose you, your parts will become human one at a time and be able to move on their ownonly when they make contact with Ana's skin. You might even come to see that she is also a doll and that her parts may only move on their own when her skin touches yours."

Slick begins to pool between my thighs, and I'm so focused on my Daddy's words that I don't even see that he has pulled the key from his pocket until he slides it into the key hole in my throat. The key makes an audibleclick as he turns it and I feel my body become immobile. This is no longer disconcerting to me as I have become accustomed to my doll state. I know that as a doll I'll be unable to form full words and that my voice box only makes intelligible sounds.

My Daddy lifts me and carries me towards a large cream-colored blanket that someone has spread out on the grass. He sets me down in a seated position with my legs sort of spread eagled and my arms rounded at my sides. As a person, I'd be grateful that my skirt coversma minette, but as a doll I'm not bothered by the awkward position.

I am always aware of my Daddy's presence however, even as a doll, and I strain to hear as he walks towards the ladies' table. I'm unable to turn my head to look, but I catch snippets of his words such as "crystal" and "doll" from a few meters away.

My Daddy returns and I feel, rather than see, him kneel behind me. Soon Ana's Daddy enters my field of view with Ana lying stiffly in his arms. He lays her beside me so that we would be facing each other if she were to sit up and her hips are even with mine. It's difficult to see anyone else as the other guests stay far enough away to avoid my direct line of sight. They remain silent but I maintain an awareness that I am being watched until my Daddy whispers in my ear that as a doll I am only aware of the people currently seated on the blanket.

The rest of the world fades away, and when my Daddy takes my forearm in his grasp and guides my hand under Ana's dress, I become aware that she isn't wearing panties after all. As soon as my fingers touch her soft skin, I regain full control them. My arm however, remains as rigid as the rest of my body. Ana makes a soft sigh encouraging me to make use of my new found mobility. Gently I begin to explore her delicate folds with my fingers and I notice that both are now coated in slick.

She whimpers when my Daddy pulls gently on my forearm extracting my fingers and as soon as I lose contact with Ana, I lose movement again. This time his presses my fingers softly against Ana's lips. I'm caught off guard by the warmth of her mouth as she draws them inside and sucks softly, having regained the ability to move her lips at will. I understand how this game works now.

The men shift making themselves more comfortable, and when my Daddy tilts my head to the side, I can see Ana's Daddy flipping up the bright yellow skirt, leaving Ana's legs and minette bare. I feel my breath hitch and while I remark at her loveliness in my mind, I can say nothing coherent. My Daddy presses my arms down by my sides and slides the straps of the pink dress down over my shoulders. He then raises my arms towards the sky and slowly lifts my blouse up over my head, leaving me nude from the waist up.

As I doll, I have no modesty but I seem to be left with impatience. I make a small noise of protest and he laughs softly before returning my hand to its previous position between Ana's thighs. I resume my caresses and I can feel her breathing quicken. This time with my head tilted and her skirt lifted I can see what I'm doing, increasing my skill. I imagine her wanting to grind her hips upwards into my hand but finding that the unfreezing spell doesn't extend to her pelvis.

As I touch her my Daddy plays with my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. Ana's Daddy leans forward and kisses her lips. Neither of the men's touches result in any additional movement and so they are free to caress us at their leisure. I'm jealous of the kisses Ana receives from her Daddy, wanting to swallow her soft moans myself.

I trace my fingers downwards, careful not to lose contact with any of my fingers, and with a little help from my Daddy I'm able to press two fingers inside of Ana. As I stroke her inner walls in a "come hither" motion, I feel the squeezing around my fingers increase in speed and intensity. Maintaining control of my thumb, I'm able to side it upwards with precision to circle her most sensitive bundle of nerves until the squeezing yields to spasms. I imagine that she wants to arch her back and claw the blanket, but being unable to move she releases a primal cry which I can only hope is an attempt at my name on her lips.

My own thighs are wet now and I suspect that I am soaking through the blanket. My Daddy lifts me in his arms again, and I'm shocked when he lays me back this time on the table where we'd eaten. It still smells like lemon and chocolate macarons. He positions my bum as close as possible to the edge of the table while still allowing him to bend my legs at the knees and press my feet into the table. This time it's my own skirt thrown up over splayed knees, leaving ma minette exposed to the early evening air.

My Daddy turns my head slightly to the side so that I can see Ana's Daddy approaching with her tossed limply over his shoulder, also stripped to the waist. When my gaze is returned to the sky, I feel motion in the air and realize she's being set in the chair in front of me as if I am the dessert. I can't see Ana at all but she makes a tiny noise that while intelligible, I can only describe as wicked before her Daddy hinges her body forward at the hips and her lips are pressed against my core.

My Daddy leans forward and I cry out for the first time into his kiss. The tables are turned and this time I'm the one screaming internally. My form lays motionless even as my body begs to writhe in pleasurable agony. It's my turn to cry out incoherently and she continues to torture my clit with her tongue until I detonate, screaming out loud this time in release.

As I lie boneless but unmoving on the table my Daddy gently arranges my limbs in order to dress me. Fully clothed now, he reaches for my hollow and turns the key, withdrawing it from my throat. I become aware of the others, gathered around us when a rowdy applause breaks the silence in my mind. I blush as they turn to return to house.

My Daddy leads me by the hand upstairs to the bathroom in our master suite. He tells me that our guests will stay the night and as I peruse the colored bottles full of scented bubble bath, I hear more footsteps on the tile behind me.

Turning I see Ana, already nude, smiling back at me with her Daddy close behind. I show her my collection of bubbles and decide to let her choose this time. She selects a bright green bottle that smells of peppermint. I excitedly tip the bottle into the tub, instead of giving it to my Daddy to pour and he swats me on the bottom for being impulsive and making far too many bubbles.

After a thorough washing, the men leave us to our own devices. Citrouille, making his nightly rounds is the only one to see what we are up to and he won't be spreading any rumors. This time we are fully in control of our touches and kisses and we make the most of it for the better part of an hour before our Daddies return and collect us for bed. My Daddy dries me in a soft towel as always, but makes no move to dress me for sleep. As he leads me out of the bathroom his expression tells me that he isn't about to let me have all the fun tonight. Pulling me close at the side of the bed, and tangling his fist in my hair, he kisses me wildly and groans into the side of my throat, "Don't worry little darling, Daddy will let you sleep in tomorrow morning."