The Sorority Sisters
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are 18 years of age or older. Names, characters, events, and scenarios are entirely fictional and not based on real persons or events. This story contains explicit content intended for adult readers only and is a product of imagination, not reality. The creator assumes no responsibility for readers’ interpretations or actions. Reader discretion is advised.
Emma Caldwell’s fingers trembled as she lifted the black envelope from her desk, its crimson wax seal gleaming with a crescent moon.
She tore it open, and the words struck her like a spark: Lambda Noctis. Initiation tonight. Dress sharp. Her stomach fluttered—not just nerves, but a fierce anticipation.
At twenty, a junior at the university, Emma had spent years blending into the background. Tonight, though, she could join Lambda Noctis, the sorority girls whispered about in awe, and she refused to let the chance slip away.
Her mousy brown hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, framing hazel eyes that glinted with ambition.
She wasn’t a knockout—her lean runner’s body carried small, pert breasts and a tight, athletic ass—but she had grit. Rummaging through her drawer, she pulled out a black lace dress, a thrifted find she’d grabbed on impulse.
Its short hem skimmed her thighs and hugged her slender frame. The lace scratched her bare skin as she slipped it on, but she smoothed it down, hoping it screamed sophistication.
The sorority house rose before her, a Victorian silhouette against the dusk. Inside, the air buzzed with candle wax and floral perfume, a heady blend that quickened her pulse.
She descended the basement stairs, her footsteps echoing off stone walls, until she faced the seniors of Lambda Noctis.
Kirsten Larsen stepped forward, a statuesque Norwegian with golden hair swept into a sleek updo. At six feet, her black satin robe clung to full breasts and a narrow waist, the hem parting to reveal long, toned legs.
