Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
The party was in full swing when they arrived. Asher had been keeping an eye out for his pledge, Chris, while also checking out each girl the other final pledges brought. As the chapter president, it was his job to ensure this crop of pledges were up to the task. And that task for the night was bringing girls they could share. Chris swore his girl was topnotch, so Ash couldn't wait to see for himself.
The Bacchanalia had been a tradition of Omega Tau for generations. As a fifth generation legacy member, and also the third president in the family, Asher had begun hearing the stories of this night since he hit puberty. Even though the world frowned upon such things in this day and age, this initiation had never wavered in any chapter. Ash wasn't about to change that now.
It was almost funny that his mind turned briefly to the girl he had brought for his first Bacc, some little mousy thing called Nell from Small Town USA who had no idea what she was getting into that night. She dropped out of school not long after that according to Kari, Nell's roommate. Kari quickly became his girlfriend, and he had pinned her at that spring's formal.
Kari wasn't here, though. None of the guys' regular girls would be. Though some girls from AKZ, their partner sorority, would be, but they knew when to leave.
When Chris and his date arrived, Asher was surprised by how correct the freshman was. Unlike many of the girls in the mandatory togas, hers was just this side of sheer and it flaunted her obvious curves. She'd woven wines into her mess of brunette waves, which fell freely nearly to her waist. She walked as if she were dancing, which she clearly wanted to do, but Chris insisted on introducing her first. And when she got to Ash, he found himself surprised by her eyes, which were such a soft warm brown they were nearly amber that shone against her tanned skin.
"Asher, this Penelope," Chris introduced, manner formal as he had been taught. Penelope, on the other hand, grinned widely under her pixie nose and hugged Ash. He forced himself not to get a stiffy when he quickly noted that she wasn't wearing anything under her toga. Her wild hair assaulted him with the scent of pine and incense, a surprisingly pleasant smell. At least it wasn't patchouli, he thought as she stepped back.
"Thank you for inviting me to the Bacchanalia," she said, her singsong voice seeming to be at the verge of laughter. "I brought you a gift." She offered him up an ornate bottle filled with a dark red substance. "It's a wine I made myself. I would be honored to drink it with you later."
Ash slid his eyes to his pledge. Had the boy fucked up and told the girl what was going to happen? But Chris didn't seem concerned or guilty, only pleased with his catch. With his most charming smile, Asher bowed and kissed her hand. "That sounds great, Penelope. We will be sure to do that." Hell, he might not even have to add a little extra to her cup in that case.
She smiled a sweet smile at him before Chris led her off to the main room, but Ash frowned as his eyes followed them. Something about that smile struck him as familiar, but he couldn't figure out why. He took another swig of the wine he was already drinking - the traditional fare for the OT Bacchanalia - and decided it didn't matter. He'd probably just seen her talking to Chris before.
By eleven-thirty, the party portion of the event hit its crescendo. There wasn't a sober person on the property, though no one had gotten sick or passed out. Instead, they were all dancing, even Asher who hated to dance. No one noticed the creeping change to the music, from the usual fare into more instrumental and, eventually, less electronic songs. Drums continued to pound out an incessant beat that the drunken revelers matched. Those who'd been outside now crammed themselves into the house proper, so the building was packed wall to wall with sweaty bodies grinding against each other.
Precisely eight minutes after midnight, the music abruptly stopped. So did the dancers, most looking around as if lost. Then the girls that the pledges had brought stepped forward, each with a small drum. As if by some unseen signal, they struck their instrument at the same time before moving into a complex rhythm that got the dancers' feet moving again.
Well, most of the dancers. Asher stood in the middle of the floor, blinking around himself in confusion as everyone around him began to swing more wildly in their dancing. He shoved his way through the thrashing throng, not understanding at all what was happening. This was his party, his dance, and his ritual. By the time he got to the platform where he was supposed to be overseeing the initiation of his pledges, the dancers were whipping themselves into a frenzy that was not purely dancing anymore. Where the party had been a sea of white before, it was rippling into a sea of uncovered flesh. He blinked stupidly at the sight before him, wondering if what he was seeing was real.
And then, she stood beside him. Penelope gave him that sweet smile again as she uncorked the bottle of wine she had brought with her. "I think it's time we had that drink, Asher. Don't you?" When she stepped onto the riser beside him, he took a step back, or tried to. In his current state of intoxication, he stumbled and fell onto his butt. Penelope continued a quiet measured approach, her feet bare and toga so damp with sweat it clung to every inch of her.
"Get away from me," he rasped as he scrambled backwards, hands sliding with perspiration. The vines in her hair seemed to have grown thicker, the leaves hanging in an intricate serpentine pattern like a crown. There was a faint glow that emanated from both her amber eyes and from her covered abdomen. "What the fuck is going on?" He stopped, his back now up against the wall with nowhere else to go.
Penelope knelt down beside him and took a deep drink from the bottle she carried. When she offered it to Asher, he shook his head and tried to push her away. She laughed, a shockingly light and happy sound in the midst of the cacophony of the room, and grabbed him by the throat. Her grip was too strong for a girl her size, but he couldn't pry her fingers away from him. He opened his mouth to gasp for air, and she shoved the bottle in and tipped it back. He had no choice but to swallow or drown.
The wine was rich and cloyingly sweet. There was a hint of something else in it, but Asher didn't care. He just wanted it to stop pouring down his throat. And, eventually, she relented. He gasped and coughed, watery eyes noting that she drank what was left of the bottle as he recovered. When he managed to catch a glimpse beyond her, he noticed that the partiers were beginning to fall to the floor. Not from exhaustion, like he first guessed, but in a pique of ecstasy as the unmistakable sound of sex rose.
