Step into the Kinktober ’24 Spooky Story Contest, where four eerie, Femdom-themed tales await! Dive into each chilling story, then cast your vote for the one that gives you the most thrills. On Halloween, we’ll unveil the winning tale, and one lucky voter will score a $50 Amazon Gift Card! This is Story #1 (you can start the series here)
One of the lesser-known perks of being a part of Greek Life is getting the inside scoop on what’s happening on campus.
I was at my friend Geena’s apartment, listening to scary stories one late October evening, and it was my turn to tell a tale. And boy, did I have a tale to tell!
The apartment was the perfect place to tell stories. Geena had turned off the lights and lit some candles, so that we were all hidden in the comfy, flickering shadows. The room still smelled like apple cider and baked goods, and the vanilla and cinnamon spice called to mind the harvest season. It was the perfect setting for ghost stories.
A lot of people like ghost stories: the idea of a spirit that’s been taken from its body, and forced to wander the Earth untethered. But what about a body that’s had its spirit removed? What about a body without a soul, a body that can’t die, but still hungers to live, unstoppable, insatiable?
“I’ve got a story that’s going to knock your socks off,” I informed my friends, leaning back on Geena’s couch and giving my knuckles a good crack. “Send me the talking sub!”
The “talking sub,” Clark, was a freshman pledge to the Delta Theta Kappa frat, and I knew him well. He had a mop of dark hair and a pair of owlish glasses, and he was the only virgin in the room, which was why we’d designated him as our “talking sub.” Whoever had Clark got to tell their story. When all four of us– Geena, Rachel, myself, and Igora– had spun our yarns, we would vote for the best, and the best would get use of the boys in the room for a full week. I was very confident I could win, because I had a story I had been dying to tell for weeks. And this was my chance!
Clark had been sitting on Rachel’s lap; he slipped off and padded over to me. I pointed to the ground in front of the sofa, and he knelt. I slung my legs over his shoulders and crossed my ankles over his chest, pulling his back against the couch and squeezing his head between my thighs. I hoped he could still hear me, but if he couldn’t, it didn’t matter. Only the girls were voting, after all. The boys were just prizes.
“Ahem,” I began. “As you all know, Clark here is still a virgin–”
“Hey!” protested Clark meekly, blushing. So he could hear me, after all.
“–which is nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of freshmen are virgins,” I continued. “And, in fact, being a virgin can be awfully valuable, you know, Clark.”
Clark mumbled something under his breath.
“But,” I continued, ignoring him, “It can also be dangerous. In fact, just last month, we had a peculiar situation that illustrates the risks of purity…”
It all began in early September, with the Zeta Kappa Theta Fall Cultural Exchange Program. Zeta Kappa Theta is one of the most well-connected sororities in the country, and it has several sisterships with other sororities, including a few international ones.
Our sorority president, Bonnie, had been hard at work over summer break to get the exchange and transfer program squared away, and her efforts had been rewarded. One Friday evening, she announced that we would be accepting a transfer student for one month, from a Romanian sorority called Beta Alpha Tau.
It was very exciting to meet a new girl all the way from Romania, even more so because she was a complete mystery. We didn’t know a thing about her, not even her name, and we got no new information about her until Bonnie escorted her into the lounge to introduce her to us.
And I literally mean escorted. Because when Bonnie arrived, she walked in by herself, and then had to walk back to the door, where the mysterious new transfer was standing on the threshold of our door, waiting, as if there were a forcefield that was holding her back. It was raining out, but the new transfer didn’t dare step in, even though she was getting soaked.
“Don’t be shy, come on in. You’re one of the sisters now!” said Bonnie.
The new transfer student finally came forward with a very tight-lipped smile, revealing herself to us for the first time. She was a striking figure, and my very first impression was that she looked like a porcelain doll that had been brought to life. Her face was ghostly white, and she looked as cold as a corpse.
“Ladies, this is Drusilla,” announced Bonnie. “She’ll be with us all month. Let’s make sure we make her feel welcome!”
We applauded, beaming at her, eager to make her acquaintance. Drusilla gave us another very tight-lipped smile in return.
Drusilla was undeniably beautiful. You couldn’t help but notice that. She had long, dark hair that fell in a silky black curtain down her back, nearly to her waist. Her eyes were just as dark, and very big, amplified by her long, dark, curled lashes. By contrast, her skin was very, very pale, which was emphasized by her clothes. She wore a long, lacey black dress that went all the way to the floor, like she was going to attend a formal ball later, and she wore a small pillbox hat tilted on her head. The hat was black, too. In fact, the only color on Drusilla at all were her lips; she wore bright, flaming red lipstick that stressed every tiny movement or twitch of her mouth.
“Thank you for inviting me into your beautiful home. I am very welcome to be here,” said Drusilla. Her voice was surprisingly husky, but not rough. Just low and deep and smooth, like aged whiskey. Her English was impeccable but heavily accented, with a heavy emphasis on the vowels and the R’s. That first introduction sounded like this: “Dank yew forrr eenviteeng me eento yourrr beeooteeful home. I am very velcome to be heerrr.”
Drusilla had only two pieces of luggage: a black, square leather suitcase and a large jar of what looked like dirt. She cradled the jar in one arm and held the suitcase in her other hand. I couldn’t imagine only packing one small suitcase for an entire month!
“Do you want to tell us a bit about yourself, Drusilla?” asked Bonnie politely.
“Yes. Of course. I am looking forward to learning many American customs here and to meeting many American boys. But I already miss the home country. I brought some of it here with me,” she said, hefting up the jar of dirt.
Ah. So that explained it. Kind of weird, but whatever.
“I am having– what do you call it?– jetlag. So I will be taking the night classes and mostly sleeping in daytime. I hope I can still meet the boys here.” She gave us another one of her smiles, one that stretched her mouth but didn’t open it at all. She barely opened her mouth even when she talked, like she was practicing ventriloquism. I thought maybe she didn’t want to mess up her bright red lipstick.
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of young studs on campus,” said Bonnie, looping her arm into Drusilla’s. Everyone giggled; Drusilla smiled, still close-lipped.
“Young stud, meaning virgin, yes? I am particularly interested in the virgins,” emphasized Drusilla with a very serious air.
A few people clapped at this, giggling some more. We liked her already! Who doesn’t like a woman who knows what she wants?
Drusilla exuded the air of a very well-practiced pro-Domme. I had no idea if she was a freshman or a senior, and when I asked around, no one else seemed to know her exact age, either.
Bonnie showed her to her room and offered to help her unpack, but Drusilla insisted on putting away her things alone, with the door closed. I didn’t think she could really have many things to put away, though; her suitcase could probably only hold two of the long, flouncy lace dresses she liked to wear.
We soon found that Drusilla was very, very independent. She did not want a tour of the campus (though she did ask where the Delta fraternity was), or help finding any of her classes. True to her word, she was only registered for night classes, and the only time she emerged from her room was after sunset. During the day, she must have been napping or working on her homework, but we weren’t really sure, because she always kept her door securely shut. She was a private person.
But she wasn’t shy!
Within the first three days, she brought home her first boy. He was a pledge for Delta Theta Kappa, fresh-faced and over-eager. A strange choice for Drusilla, in my opinion, because she was clearly such an experienced pro-Domme with enough practice and confidence under her belt to command any boy she wanted to. This lowly pledge didn’t seem a likely candidate for her valuable attention.
But they vanished into Drusilla’s room and, when she emerged the next evening, she seemed very pleased and invigorated by her experience. There was a blush of color in her pale cheeks, and her dark eyes seemed brighter and more alert.
“Hi, Drusilla,” I said. I had been preparing a bowl of cereal in the kitchen as a little late-night snack before going back to my dorm. “Did you and your date just get up?”
“Yes,” said Drusilla, leaning over the countertop. I was wearing workout shorts and a sports bra. Drusilla was, as usual, overdressed in one of her big lace gowns.
“Do you want some cereal?”
“I already ate, thank you.”
“Did that guy already leave?” I asked, munching on a spoonful of wheaties.
“Yes. He is finished,” said Drusilla. “These Deltas, they have very fine boys. Mostly virgins?”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “Maybe the freshmen, I guess.”
Drusilla seemed to consider this, tapping her long nails against the counter, before pushing herself upright and striding out.
The next night she came home with another boy, a different one, this time. And the night after that, a different one again.
At first I thought she was just trying them out. After all, she was a transfer student in a new place, and she had only a month to explore our campus. She probably wanted to get as much experience as possible. But even so, most Dommes I know tend to have “favorites.” Drusilla seemed to only care about one thing: whether or not they were virgins. Beyond that, nothing mattered. And I never saw the same boy twice.
But I didn’t think anything of it until I found a nervous young pledge named Ned standing on the steps of the sorority one evening. He was a cute, short, round little guy with dark hair and round glasses, and he was checking his watch worriedly while he hovered by the door.
“Hi. Can I help you?” I asked.
He jumped, then relaxed. “Hi. Yes. I’m– I’m looking for Willow. I’m Ned, one of the Delta pledges. Willow agreed to– to help me with something.” He sounded nervous.
“Okay, come in. I’ll get Willow for you,” I said. I gestured for Ned to follow me in, but he balked on the front steps.
“Is Drusilla here?” he asked, checking his watch again.
“Probably. She sleeps during the day,” I said.
“I’ll just wait for Willow here, if that’s okay,” he said with a small, nervous laugh.
I shrugged. “Suit yourself.” I let myself inside and found Willow to tell her she had a visitor, thinking to myself that if Ned was too nervous to be around beautiful women then he wasn’t going to get very far as a Delta!
But the next night, he was on the steps of the sorority house once more, checking and rechecking his watch. He was wearing a striped polo shirt and a pair of shorts that looked extremely out of place in late September, and was wearing a thick strand of twine around his neck. At the end of it was a bulb of garlic.
Weirdo, I thought.
“Are you here for Willow?” I asked him pleasantly. He looked nervous and I felt sorry for him.
He blushed when I mentioned Willow and shook his head. “Cordelia,” he said.
“Not Drusilla?” I teased. I didn’t mean anything by it; I was just naming another random girl who lived at the Zeta house, because it struck me as a bit strange that he was here for a second night in a row, but to serve someone else.
But the moment I mentioned Drusilla, his blush vanished, and he went pale instead. He shook his head, fervently. “No! Just Cordelia! Please,” he added, belatedly, “Mistress.”
“…I’ll go get her for you,” I told him, going inside to find Cordelia.
Later that night I bumped into Drusilla walking down the hall, leading a drooling young freshman down the hall by his tie. I flashed her a thumbs-up, and she flashed me the first full smile I’d ever seen her give.
I’ll never forget that smile. Her teeth were impossibly and impeccably white, and razor-sharp. They were as straight as soldiers, all four canines twice as long as the rest, and the moment she smiled at me I felt my blood run cold. It’s hard to describe the feeling it evoked in me; it was primal, the way I would have felt if a sabertooth tiger had looked at me. It was the feeling of being prey, and having an apex predator notice you.
I felt ashamed, right away. Drusilla had been polite to everyone and she was a guest. The strange, tight-lipped way she talked must mean that she felt self-conscious about her teeth, and no wonder, if people gave her awful looks every time she smiled!
The next day, for the third time in a row, I found Ned sitting on the steps in front of the sorority house, reading a book while leaves gathered at his feet. He was shivering visibly and squinting in the crisp, harsh light of the sunset, but didn’t seem like he wanted to budge from his sunbeam.
“Hi, Ned. …are you looking for Willow, or Cordelia today?” I asked.
“Well… no one, today,” he said.
“What do you mean, no one? You’re just loitering for fun?” I asked, squinting a little at him. He was still wearing his garlic clove, which had started to sprout. The small green finger emerging from the top seemed to point at him and say, Weirdo!
“Well, I thought maybe I could… have a session with whichever Domme would have me,” he said.
“You’re a pledge, right?”
He nodded.
“Maybe Drusilla would be interested. She likes the underclassmen,” I suggested.
Ned recoiled in horror. “Not her,” he said.
“Hey! Drusilla may not technically be a Zeta, but she’s still a member of our sisterhood, and–”
“Don’t you know?” he interrupted, rising from the steps, his look pleading with me to understand. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? Isn’t it obvious?”
“Isn’t what obvious?” I demanded.
“Drusilla! She didn’t come here to learn about our culture. She came here to feed. Haven’t you noticed all the pledges who have suddenly disappeared because of medical issues or ‘family emergencies?’ Haven’t you noticed how they all spent a night with her, right before they disappeared? How she only goes for pledges? How she wears all black and only comes out at night and never goes into any buildings unless someone invites her in first?”
“That’s just good manners,” I protested.
“She’s literally from Transylvania! Have you seen her teeth, April?”
Defensiveness flared up in me. “She can’t help how her teeth look, and she’s very self-conscious, Ned! It’s horrible to judge her over something like that! I’m going to have a talk with Eric about you, and–”
“April, she’s a vampire.”
My jaw dropped. I wanted to laugh at him. But he was deadly serious, quivering with conviction, and all I could think of was the cold feeling of dread that had trickled down my spine the night before, when Drusilla had flashed me that hungry smile.
Come to think of it… where had all of her dates gone? She had a boy come around almost every other night, but never a second time. And I’d noticed my European History 101 class looking a bit sparse. A lot of freshman pledges had definitely dropped. But maybe that was just because the class was dull.
“So what are you doing here? Hoping to stake her?” I asked Ned in annoyance, still not willing to take his side over Drusilla’s.
“What? No! Who do I look like, Abraham van Helsing? I’m just a freshman pledge! I’m here because–” He began to redden with embarrassment. “Well, because– the thing is– I’ve been watching Drusilla’s feeding patterns. She’s got a very specific taste. She likes virgins, and I, um… well… the thing is…”
“…you’re worried you’re what’s next on the menu,” I finished for him.
He nodded.
“What about Willow and Cordelia?” I asked.
He reddened even further.
If he was telling the truth and Drusilla was really a vampire, she probably would have gone crazy over all the blood rushing to his face.
“Well, there were, um, technical difficulties.” He met my gaze, his eyes pleading. “April, she’s been watching me. I’m going to be next. I know it. Please, I need to make sure I’m safe, and the only way…” He took a deep breath. “… is if I lose my virginity. Tonight! It’s the only way to make sure I’m safe!”
“What about your garlic?” I asked.
“I can’t lose my virginity to the garlic, April!” he practically screamed, loud enough for a few nearby crows to take wing, cawing in annoyance at being startled.
“Okay, okay,” I said hurriedly. I pitied him. I didn’t really believe him, but he seemed so panicked that I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “I’ll help you. Follow me.”
Ned relaxed, just a little, hitching up his backpack and following me into the sorority house. My actual residence was back in the dorms, because I was only a freshman, but I spent a lot of evenings in the sorority house because it was much more comfortable, and had certain… well, amenities that the dorms didn’t. Including a few free use rooms.
I took Ned there, not because I actually planned to do anything with him, but just because I didn’t want to leave him on our steps outside, freaking out about vampires.
But then something happened that changed my mind.
I led him into one of the upper rooms and told him to make himself comfortable, and then I left, planning to just leave him there to calm down. But as I descended to the first story of the sorority house, I bumped into a young Delta pledge.
“Oh, I didn’t see–” I began, but then drew back in horror.
He was naked except for a pair of white briefs, and as pale as the moon on a clear night. His eyes were blue but they were clouded and unseeing. He had a dumb grin on his face, like someone who’s dreaming of something silly, and for a moment I thought maybe he was sleep-walking because of the way he stumbled weakly down the corridor. But then he turned and I saw the two spots on his neck. Two red puncture marks, swollen and leaking, twin trails of blood trickling down his neck and onto his bare chest.
“Hmm-mm-mm…” he hummed, turning and staggering off as if he were in a trance. I watched him go, too shocked to speak. He was vaguely familiar and it took me a moment to remember where I knew him from.
I’d seen him a day earlier, outside of the library, late at night… talking to Drusilla!
A tingle went up my spine as I ran to her room to knock on the door. Maybe she knew what had happened to him. Maybe she could explain.
But there was no answer.
I rapped my knuckles harder, but still nothing, and after a moment of indecision, I cracked open the door and peeked inside.
Drusilla’s room was bare of any furnishings at all. She lay on her back on the bed, on top of the covers. The bedspread was sprinkled with dirt, giving the impression that she was lying in a freshly dug grave, and she was fully dressed in one of her dark, lacey gowns, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes closed. She was as rigid as a board and everything about the way she was laying there was completely unnatural. I felt like I was looking at a corpse, displayed for viewing at a wake. Everything about her, her clothes, her hair, was perfectly in order, like she wasn’t even sleeping at all, but waiting.
The only thing about her that was off was her lipstick. Usually perfect, one corner of her mouth was smeared across her cheek. As I stared at her, her tongue snaked out of her mouth to lick the corner of her lips, and swipe at the red blotch. It came away easily. It wasn’t lipstick at all. It was blood!
I drew back, my breath caught in my throat. I closed the door shakily and ran back upstairs to find Ned, my heart pounding.
“You were right! You were right! She’s– she’s–” I gasped as I slammed the door of the bedroom.
Ned sprang up from the bed, where he had been waiting with his hands clasped. “I told you! She’s a vampire!”
“Should we tell someone?” I asked.
“Last time I told someone, they told me to fuck garlic,” said Ned pointedly, glaring at me.
“Okay, okay, point taken. But how do we keep her from draining our blood?”
“Our blood?” Ned snorted a little. “You’re safe. She only seems to like men.”
“Well, that’s good news for you, then, since you’re acting more like a boy than a man,” I snapped.
Despite my fear, I felt a prickle of annoyance. Ned was acting awfully smug for someone who was about to become a vampire’s lunch.
Ned looked like he wanted to argue with me, but his Delta training made him bite his tongue. “Most vampires are picky eaters. Your blood isn’t appetizing to her, so you’re safe. Plus, she’s living in the sorority, so all of the sisters are part of her coven, as far as she’s concerned. None of you have to worry. What she wants are male virgins. Pure blood. If my blood were unappetizing to her, I wouldn’t have to worry, either.”
He raised his eyebrows at me.
“But didn’t you spend a night with Willow? And Cordelia? What happened?” I asked. “Didn’t they help you… ‘unpurify’ your blood?”
Ned looked down bashful and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Well, um… we had a very nice time… heh, I think I still have the marks… but… there were some technical difficulties.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Y’know,” he said.
I crossed my arms. “Say it.”
He fiddled with the garlic around his neck. “Okay, okay. I couldn’t… I couldn’t quite… y’know, keep it up. I got freaked out. …it’s not my fault! The women here are very intimidating, you know, and also, there’s a vampire in the building!”
I tapped my finger against my cheek. “Okay. Those are fair points. I think I have a solution, Ned. I can take your virginity for you, if you’ll agree to do exactly as I say. I’m not playing around, though. If you get uppity, I’ll kick you right out. And I’m pretty sure it’s after sunset now.”
Ned was already nodding, his expression full of gratitude. “I will! I promise. I’ll do whatever you want, Mistress April. Just please, take this curse from me. I don’t want to have pure blood anymore. I want to be desecrated.”
“Okay. Wait here. I need to get some things,” I said. “…and give me that garlic. I’m not spending the night with a guy who’s wearing a plant around his neck.”
Reluctantly, Ned pulled the twine over his head and handed me the garlic bulb necklace. I took it and left him in the room, going back to my dorm to fetch an overnight bag.
As I walked across the dark campus lawn, listening to the crickets, my way illuminated by the light of the moon, I couldn’t help but feel my skin crawl. I felt like I was being watched. As I returned to the Zeta headquarters, I saw a dark shape flit jerkily across the moon. It made me shudder, the way it moved through the air, and I hurried back inside and up the stairs to the room where I’d left Ned.
He was still there, all right, sitting up in bed. His lower half was covered by the sheets, but his upper half was naked.
“What are you doing?” I demanded as I entered.
He looked down at himself. “Well, I thought you were going to help me lose my virginity.”
I rolled my eyes. “I am, but not right away! Geez! You don’t just jump right into it! You need to set the mood, Ned. Here. Put this on.” I tossed a piece of thin, silky fabric at him.
He just barely caught it, unfolding it to reveal a red spaghetti-string négligée. He looked over at me quizzically. “You want me to put this on you?”
“No, I brought my own stuff to wear. I want you to wear it, Ned. Your first time should be special, and I want you to feel pretty,” I said as I set my bag onto the room’s desk and began rooting through it for my gear.
Ned gawked at me. “But–” he began.
I gave him my best Domme warning glare, and his mouth snapped shut. Kicking off the sheets, he rose, hunched and a little shy, and pulled the nightgown over his head. It fluttered down over his body, and I saw him look down at himself, twirling back and forth just a little, examining the fit. I could tell he liked it, that he was surprised to find he liked it, too. But I’d already known he would. Who doesn’t like the sensation of silk caressing their skin?
“Beautiful,” I said. “And look. Easy access!”
Ned grinned a little nervously. The nightgown just barely came down to his mid-thigh. “Easy access,” he agreed.
I turned my back to him, pulling my shirt over my head. I felt my breasts bounce free. Behind me, I heard Ned inhale a little. I could imagine him growing, his manhood lifting the thin material of the lingerie I had given him.
“Why don’t you get into bed and get comfortable?” I suggested as I rooted through my bag.
Behind me, I heard the covers rustle as Ned dove into bed.
My lips turned up in a smile. Ned wanted to lose his virginity? Oh, I could definitely help with that.
I pulled the black leather harness from my bag and stepped into it, pulling the straps up my legs and tightening them, buckling my gear around my waist and adjusting it so it was comfortable. I turned to face Ned, hands on my hips.
Ned was gazing at me with excitement, but when I turned, his eyes immediately dropped downward, toward the long, heavy dildo hanging between my legs.
He gulped. “I– I thought you were going to–”
“Take your virginity? Yes, I am. And you don’t even need to stay hard!” I said, reaching down to stroke my cock. I snatched a bottle of lube from the dresser and drizzled some of the liquid over my shaft, letting Ned have a good, long look at it. “Now turn around and present that ass for me, Ned. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
Ned hesitantly shifted onto his hands and knees, sticking his ass up into the air. The négligée was short enough that when he pushed his behind up, it slithered down his back, exposing him, providing me with a perfect target.
I put my knees on the bed and fell forward, lining myself up behind Ned and reaching between his legs to fondle his balls. He clung to a pillow, his body tense.
“Ned, you need to relax. Don’t clench up on me. Trust me, you’re going to enjoy this,” I purred, massaging the globes of his ass with my hands. “Besides, it’s the only way to ensure you’re safe. Right?”
“…right,” squeaked Ned into the pillow he was clutching.
“I’m going to go slow, since it’s your first time, but you really ought to work on your attitude. If I were a less forgiving Domme, I would wreck that ass of yours to teach you a lesson,” I said, fingering Ned’s crack. He squirmed and arched against the violation, but he was at least smart enough not to protest.
“Yes, Mistress,” he said.
I put my hands on his hips and lined myself up with his hole. The weight of the strap-on was comfortable and familiar to me, and I felt almost like it had a mind of its own as I sought out Ned’s entrance with the tip. It caught the puckered ring of muscle, and with a push of my hips, I breached Ned’s unadulterated ass. Despite all of his apparent hesitation, his body swallowed the length of the dildo hungrily, easily taking the full pole, every little ridge sending a shudder of pleasure through him. He wasn’t having any trouble staying hard, now. He rocked back against him, fucking himself on the dildo with rhythmic moans, his own fleshy cock (much smaller than mine!) hard and bouncing as I filled his ass.
Our balls kissed with every pump of our hips, his own soft sack no match for the thick silicone monsters that hung from my strap-on. But Ned knew this was no competition. His arrogance had vanished; now that he was being topped, he was as soft as butter, happy to let me lead him. He was no longer a virgin, and was proving that he was a true Delta, too!
I pegged him for a solid half-hour session, driving my cock in and out of him. He came halfway through, spilling his jizz all over the sheets, but he didn’t ask me to stop. His fists balled up in the sheets and, whimpering with over-stimulation and pleasure, he let me continue to tap his prostate, training his ass to accept its role as a sheath for my dildo.
When I was finally ready to pull out, he was a shivering, weak mess of gratitude.
“There. I’d say you’re definitely no longer a virgin,” I said, as I withdrew my shining strap-on from him. He all-but collapsed in the sheets, his red nightgown soaked in sweat from the exertion of taking it.
“Are you sure?” he asked, dazed.
“Almost positive that counts as losing your virginity,” I said, laughing as I patted one of his asschecks.
Utterly worn out, I let Ned stay the night. To tell you the truth, I don’t think he would have been able to walk if he’d wanted to! He’d taken an admirable pounding, and I doubted his blood would have been of any use to Drusilla after that.
Not that it mattered.
The next morning, he came by the sorority looking for me.
“I got these for you,” he said, holding up a bouquet of colorful purple monkshood.
“Oh, wow. These are gorgeous!” I exclaimed. “We should go put them into a vase in the kitchen so all of the sisters can enjoy them, too. Come on in.”
Ned eyed the looming facade of the sorority house with trepidation. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Ned, you’re not a virgin anymore, remember?” I said, rolling my eyes.
“I know. But… well, she must be getting desperate. None of the rest of the pledges have disappeared lately. If she’s hungry enough, she might resort to desperate means.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine, Ned,” I assured him.
“How can you be so certain?”
“Easy,” I said, brightly. “Drusilla went back home to Romania two nights ago!”
– The End –
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