Sapphic Sorority Slasher

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It’s a hell of a storm.

Howling wind shakes the trees and deafening thunder rattles the windows of the sorority house. It’s almost two miles outside of town, up in the forested hills. The rain is so heavy that the road is completely washed out. The storm is like a typhoon, pounding on everything in the dark.

The windows glow yellow. Tonight, the house is full. More than full. Inside are all ten officers of the Chicks Cum Loud sorority as well as ten freshmen girls who have pledged to the sisterhood.

A beer delivery truck sits outside the open door, with light spilling out over the wet gravel outside, and plenty of other cars are parked here too. Such a big sorority doesn’t just have its members… there are other people, all of them stranded by the storm: the CCL cook, the CCL maid, the woman who drives the beer truck… and another woman: a missionary, hoping to show the notoriously free-spirited, horny, extremely gay sisterhood of CCL the light of God.

And there’s one more car parked outside: an unmarked, white sedan. The woman who brought that car, a police detective, is also stuck here during the storm.

The house itself is even older than the sisterhood, which is very, very old. It’s a sprawling mansion, old-fashioned, and not very well kept up. It has ancient radiators that rattle as they try to heat its big hallways and high-ceilinged rooms. Some of the rooms still have velvet curtains from like the Civil War, and huge canopy beds. The house has been expanded over the years, so the layout doesn’t make much sense. Big rooms, little rooms, twisting hallways, staircases… there’s even a rumor about a secret passage, and then there’s the enormous cellar area underneath as well.

And the attic, but nobody goes up there.

The storm rages outside the house. It’s cold and miserable.

Inside… it’s just another Friday night for CCL. No classes tomorrow, hence the beer truck delivery. The freshmen pledges are all present and accounted for, some of them due for their initiations.

CCL is well-known for its uninhibited, honest, sapphic practices. In fact, it’s become almost a brand. Being a sister of CCL is a badge of honor that identifies any girl as not being just another college grad, but someone who knows how to have fun and loves women.

That said, the life of CCL hasn’t been a bed of roses. Scandal after scandal, tragedy after tragedy has rocked this sisterhood through the decades. Many things have happened, some of them truly awful… some are known to the media and the world outside, and of course the CCL historian—but some, no one knows about, certainly not the more than twenty women inside the house on this rainy night.

Inside, the kitchen is full of delicious smells as the cook, Dorothy, prepares huge pans of chicken wings and pizza rolls for the sisters. She softly sings a song from her native Arkansas as she works busily. She wants to make a salad so some of the girls at least have the option to eat something healthy, and as she opens the drawer with the knives in it she jumps in surprise…

…it’s full of vibrators and dildoes. A normal CCL prank.

In the front hall, Detective Lopez shakes rain off her coat and wipes her feet as some of the girls look at her curiously, wondering what a detective is doing at CCL House. She’s a tall, thirty-something woman with full lips, cold eyes, and curly hair.

Upstairs, the top sister of CCL, Amy, sits at her desk in her room in slippers, panties, and a sweatshirt, diligently planning the next three weeks of events for CCL. This isn’t just a sorority, it’s an institution in the town of Gurlberg. You’d expect that being the boss of a big crowd of horny lesbians to be fun, but it’s really just a lot of work. She’s hunched over her desk, squinting at her laptop as she works with Excel spreadsheets to figure out the budget, and sends emails to plan charity events and volunteering. She doesn’t look like much tonight with no makeup, but when she puts herself together with lots of makeup and her goth clothes, Amy turns a lot of heads. Of course, the leader of CCL turns heads no matter what she looks like.

Directly below her, a Freshmen with short, bleached hair named Nevaeh moans around a pair of damp panties stuffed in her mouth. Her thin, pale body tenses on sweat-soaked sheets, and she hisses in pain, not from the thick strap-on buried in her ass, but from the tattoo needle that’s piercing her back.

On top of her is another Freshman named Elsa, a talented artist. She’s the one wearing the strap-on, and the one giving Nevaeh her new tattoo: the letters CCL. Beside them, a bottle of lube leaks unnoticed onto the sheets.

On the other side of the room is another bed, and there’s a tall, muscular Freshman with a good tan. Her name is Rey, and she’s clipping her toenails, ignoring the scene across the room from her. Her phone dings, and a photo shows up of a smooth, shaved labia. She ignores it.

Down the hall, three officers of CCL are huddled together, planning initiations. Their names are Beth, Duni, and Sun.

“The lineup was best,” Beth is saying. She’s a short, slim, sporty brunette from England, and she’s referring to an initiation in which they took all the pledges, stripped them naked, then bent them over and lubed them up before penetrating them anally with dildoes. The first girls to make a sound were disqualified, and the remaining five were allowed to join.

“That was cruel,” Duni chides her. Duni is much taller, visibly very fit, and also obviously from Africa—but she speaks like she was born in England, which she was. Duni is CCL’s voice of reason, but she also remembers the night of that lineup, and the party that followed. She could call it cruel, but she’d gotten head from three freshmen that night, and there are still videos circulating of her lying on the rug, climaxing over and over with a freshman tongue deep inside her.

“I don’t think we can get away with that now,” Sun says calmly. Like Duni, she’s one of the more restrained and reasonable members of CCL. “There’s a detective here.”

There certainly is.

Downstairs, a CCL officer named Riona changes the channel on TV, looking for something she wants to watch. She’s Irish, pale, freckled, busty, and not paying much attention to the girl with her head up her skirt.

That’s Delilah, a gorgeous black girl from Louisiana with such good grades that the university was just dying to have her on a full ride. She’s no good with her tongue, though… that’s why Riona’s so bored. She pulls the Freshman’s face harder into her pussy, flipping channels.

Delilah’s tongue finds the spot, probably by accident.

“Oh,” Riona gasps, putting the remote down. She puts both hands on Delilah’s head. “That’s it.”

So of course that’s when Tracy walks in, a tall woman with dark hair and glasses: CCL’s faculty sponsor. Her pantsuit hugs her curvaceous body.

“Hey,” she snaps. “Not in a common area.”

Riona groans in frustration and lets Delilah go. The other girl pulls back, wiping her dripping face.

“Get a room,” Tracy says, wagging a finger.

Tracy’s cool about most things, but not when there’s a detective walking around.

Down the hall and behind a locked door, an officer named Olivia poses in front of a mirror, admiring her muscular, firm, bubble butt as it appears in a pair of black boy shorts, then snapping several photos of it.

Next door, a shy freshman named Sally sits on her bed, blushing as she listens to the sounds from the next room over. It’s hard to ignore. The creaking bed and loud moans are… a lot.

As for what’s going on in that room? A Freshman named Cynthia is fully clothed on her back on her bed, and sitting on her face is Lotte, a blonde, Dutch officer who didn’t even do her the courtesy of moving her underwear out of the way. Cynthia is just smothered, panties and all, digging her tongue into Lotte’s pussy as the blonde, Dutch girl mercilessly rolls her hips, making the bed creak and protest. She won’t stop until she cums, and she won’t give Cynthia anything in return. She never does.

“Yes!” she cries, squeezing her breasts through her top.

One floor up and two doors down, a petite girl from France kneels on the floor in the nude as a fully-dressed officer from Japan ties her hands and feet with soft, white rope.

Across the hall, CCL’s cleaning girl tries so hard to work like she’s supposed to. She’s a little chubby, and she always wears black jeans and black hoodies. Her hair is dyed blue, and she has a nose ring… but she’s good at her job, and good at putting up with dumb lesbians that like to tease her like Kylie, a freshman from Australia who has no reason to be naked, but is still naked as she stands in front of her mirror, bent forward a bit to push her butt out alluringly, doing her makeup.

Becka stubbornly ignores her and changes the sheets, though she can clearly smell the juices on them.

Downstairs in the other living room, the one where Riona wasn’t getting head, a blonde officer from Sweden nods and smiles at the missionary girl who has come to convert everyone. The missionary girl is actually from China, and her name is Bao. She explains to the Swedish girl that God doesn’t have a problem with people being gay, but that it’s better to commit to a relationship, not just hook up with whoever.

The busty, beautiful Swedish officer’s name is Ingrid, and her English is not very good.

“OK,” she says, smiling at Bao.

Bao sniffs the air. “Are you cooking?” she asks. “I’m kind of hungry, and I can’t leave until the weather’s better.”

“OK,” Ingrid replies, smiling.

There’s a lot more going on, but in other words, it’s a normal Friday at CCL… except for the weather.

And except for the fact that one of the women in the CCL house is a killer. Pretty soon she’ll don her costume, pick up her knife, and the screams of pleasure that normally provide the soundtrack in this house will be replaced by screams of terror. Horniness will be replaced by bloodiness.

SAPPHIC SORORITY SLASHER

The rules are simple. There are 10 freshman pledges in the house.

VOTE in the comments when chapters end in [ Open ] to influence the actions of the pledges and help them evade the killer’s knife. The longer each pledge lives, the more clues she will uncover, helping you toward the endgame: not only identifying the killer, but also uncovering her motive.

When a pledge dies, she dies canonically. The night resets and the story begins again with you, the readers, controlling a different pledge. There are 10 pledges, so we have 10 tries.

Accusations are unlocked! Enough clues are in play that someone could theoretically get the killer's identity and motive correct, but of course it's not easy. The reader to correctly identify both the correct killer and the correct motive will get a bespoke story by me based on his/her specific request. (Provided that the kinks requested are doable.) That story will include the same number of chapters as the number of pledges left alive when the correct accusation is made. So if there are 5 pledges left when you figure it out, the reward story will have 5 chapters. The more pledges you save, the better the reward.

Information on the various characters will be posted periodically in the Character Info area. There's also more in-depth Game Info on this page.

A correct accusation will include the killer’s name and motive, for example: “(Name) is the killer, and she’s doing it because (Name) ate out her girlfriend at the Christmas Party and (Name) covered for her.”

So: who is stalking the girls of CCL House? And why might they want to do that?

UPDATE: 2/27/2022 - A reader has correctly identified the killer and her motive. (No spoilers here.) And then someone got the accomplice too! So the accusation part is over, but the story is still going. Get in there and vote to keep the pledges alive!

UPDATE: 4/2/2022 - SSS has come to an end! Big thanks to everyone who participated and voted. (SSS:1980 was chosen as the sequel)

UPDATE: In June, 2022, the readers did a great job winning SSS:1980 and SSTGG became the new ongoing SSS story!

UPDATE: February 2022: SSS2 begins and ended in July 2023!

UPDATE: August 2023: SSSD begins and is ongoing with new chapters on Saturdays.