Monster Girl Mixer: Zeta Zeta Zeta House

Normally Harry could trust what Mike had to say. More than just sensible, he had a way of separating the wheat from the chaff without so much as a second thought. So, you know, when Mike had come to Harry with the news of a party at Zeta house, when he had raved about it, sworn by it, Harry was understandably excited to head over.

This was without a doubt the worst part Harry had ever been to.

Fucking twenty people in a basement, half of them asleep, and the music playing was something like…what, Enya? It had to be Enya, but pitched down and slowed to a crawl. No booze — Harry was pretty sure they were serving fucking chamomile tea — and nothing to even, like. Do. No one was dancing, no one was talking. The most people were doing was cuddling on the couch.

Mike included.

Harry leaned down from his miserable perch on a stool and elbowed his roommate in the ribs. That coaxed a groan past pursed lips, so at least Mike was awake. “Hey,” Harry hissed, cupping a hand to his mouth in case any of the other people would hear him. “What the fuck, man!”

“Mmf?” OK, so he was awake. That didn’t mean that he was in a state to hold a conversation. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Mike propped himself up with an elbow and squinted at Harry. “Whuzzat? Whuh’s wrong?”

“This fucking sucks!” It was probably just the comparison to the undiluted relaxation surrounding him, but Harry felt like a vein was going to burst in his forehead if he didn’t calm down. “What the fuck, you said Zeta had, like, the best parties on campus!”

“They do,” Mike sleepily asserted. He shut his eyes and laid back down, nuzzling into the cleavage of his partner on the loveseat. The sheepgirl cooed happily in her sleep, one arm lazily raising up to drape over Mike’s waist. “You just gotta…” He yawned. “It’s not your typical party. Is like.”

He waved a drowsy hand in the air before it eventually went slack. “‘s like a get together. Unwind.”

“Fuck this and fuck you! I don’t come to parties to unwind! Look at this!” Harry thrust his drink at Mike. “They have exactly two drinks here. Tea. And water! I saw a fucking garbage can, and I thought ‘oh, so they have some booze,’ and I look inside, and it’s full of tea-bags! What kind of-“

“Something wrong?” A dreamy female voice cooed from over Harry’s shoulder. He looked, and-

Alright, so there was a definite appeal to Zeta house. As mad as he was about the overall energy — or lack thereof — the women were unilaterally gorgeous. Sheepgirls were known for a lot of things, and curves were one of them. The one that had come to check in on Harry was no different, and her otherwise simple outfit — a white sweater and black jeans — strained against her luscious figure. Hips, tits, ass, she was a walking pin-up, and with a head of wavy, white hair framing her angelic face, she was enough to shut Harry up, if only for a few seconds.

“Hey, Georgia,” Mike mumbled from the loveseat. Eyes shut, he was all but drooling against his cuddle-mate’s crop top. “Harry’s bo-o-o-ored.”

“No!” Harry whipped back to face Mike, then back to Georgia. “I’m not- This is just different from most parties I’ve been to is all. I’m.”

Lie, Harry. Lie to her face.

“I’m having. A good time?”

Georgia giggled into her hand, though it turned to a yawn about halfway through. “Mike, your friend’s awful sweet, but I think you may be right. Pleasure to meet you.” She extended her hand, and Harry took it. “Georgia Sutherland. I’m kind of the house mom here, but only because I’m the only one out of bed before eleven most days.”

“Harry Maison. I’m, uh.” He looked over his shoulder at Mike. “I’m thinking about pledging to a frat, but not quite sure at the moment.”

Georgia’s sleepy eyes lighted up at that, and she pulled her hand away to press it to her chest with a grin. “Oh, you’re a freshman!” She smiled dreamily, canting her head to the side just so. “Well, I’d be so pleased if you took a glance at Sigma Nu, but that’s kinda what I’m supposed to say.”

He blinked at her.

“Oh, you probably don’t know.” Georgia waved a hand towards a bedsheet tacked up on one of the walls, proudly emblazoned with “Z Z Z” and a few Greek letters Harry didn’t quite recognize. “Sigma Nu Rho is Zeta’s brother house. They’re such dears, and I don’t know why they put up with us. Hold on, is-“

She narrowed her eyes at the various dozing bodies, clicking her tongue. “Most of the guys here,” she explained, “are from Sigma Nu, but I think they’re a little occupied at the moment. God.” She shook her head with a laugh. “I’m kind of jealous. I’m stuck upstairs cleaning up.”

“I can help!” Harry’s cheeks burned as soon as he blurted it out. At least his voice hadn’t cracked. “I, uh- You know, I’m not really. Doing anything.”

Her smile turned beatific, and Harry nearly melted. Then she reached out to cup his cheek, and it was all Harry could do to stop himself from swooning against her.

“Such a gentleman.” She hummed. “If you insist, I’m not about to turn you down. Here-” She turned on her heel — oh, no, she had hooves — and clip-clopped towards the stairs. “Just follow me. I’m straightening up the den right now, but I think after that, it’s just a few more rooms.”

Harry hadn’t really heard her, given that she walked with a pronounced sway to her hips. Still, it’d be impolite to not nod along.

It’d be impolite to stare, too, but that only really came up when he saw Georgia watching him over her shoulder. Given the smirk on her lips, it didn’t seem like she minded, but Harry still went beet-red.

“Like what you see, hun?” She teased, turning at the top of the staircase and placing a hand on her hip. Before Harry could answer, though, she continued. “Forgot to mention. The girls like it warm upstairs — kinda toned it down in the basement for the party — but it might get a little hot up here. You just let me know if you want me to get you water or something. OK, doll?”

Harry nodded, his voice utterly lost. God, he hoped she didn’t think he was easy or something, but he’d been practically eye-fucking her on the way up the stairs. He took a deep breath. Shut his eyes. And held it. He was just helping her clean. Sure, he was helping her clean because he was pretty much smitten, but he was still only helping. That was it. If she came onto him, he’d-

He’d think about possibly saying “no.” But, really, why should he be so opposed to sleeping with her? Harry was a sexually-liberated man. Yeah, there was no shame in engaging in consensual lovemaking with a partner he found attractive! Especially if-

Especially if she’d stripped nude while he was parsing it in his head.

“G-Georgia!” He sputtered, looking away and shutting his eyes in gross defiance of his every instinct. “I’m right here, you know!”

“Hm?” There was a pause. “Oh. Right. Hun, don’t worry, I’m not…” She giggled. “‘Indecent.’ You never seen a sheepgirl in the ‘nude’ before? Here.” Another pause. “Don’t worry, I promise I won’t flash you.”

Stiff in his pants, Harry cracked an eye open and slowly looked to Georgia.

She wasn’t wearing anything, true, but she wasn’t exactly naked. Her nipples and the cleft of her sex were concealed by white, fluffy wool, covering her breasts and her lower body in a natural facsimile of a bra and pants. Rings around her neck and her wrists completed her naturally-provided ensemble, but it did absolutely nothing to hide her curves. Any “lewd” parts were hidden from his admittedly prying eyes, but when she was practically nude in front of him…

Harry managed a nervous laugh at the revelation, and he turned to face her once more.

“Aha. Sorry, I, ah. I didn’t know, I guess. Never, uh.”

“Never counted sheep?” Georgia cracked a wry grin, though her cheeks were flushed, too. “Sorry. Shoulda said something, but…” Fanning herself with one hand, she sighed. “Gawd, it gets stuffy. Kinda have to wear clothes and all because it’s indecent otherwise, but we already got a whole mess of wool on anyway. A girl gets hot with all them layers on, y’know?”

“Don’t get me wrong, snuggling under the covers is nice an’ all, but you can forget about trying to make me wear anything up here when we got the heat on. Ah-” Georgia looked back to Harry. “I’m sorry, hun. This doesn’t make you unc-“

“No,” he blurted out.

She blinked.

“Well. Good to know. Anyway, keep your hands to yourself.” She turned to the sofa in the den and sauntered over. “Sheep got a ways about them, so it’s best to steer clear if you don’t know what you’re dealing with, and I’d hate to see you get all sleepy. Here-” She waved a hand over to the other sofa. Seemed like that’s the only type of furniture they had in here, really. “The girls don’t really clean up after themselves, but it’s all just pillows and blankets. Just gotta fold ’em up.”

“Right.” Harry needed a moment to focus. Maybe a few more on top of that, given that Georgia saw fit to bend at the waist to straighten the pillows on her couch. God, she had the kind of hips that could grind his lap into dust and have him begging for more. And a cute little tail on the small of her back, too!

“So, uh.” He finally wrenched himself from the sight of her and turned his attention to the pillows and blankets littering the floor. “What do you mean ‘sleepy?'”

“I’m gonna guess you don’t need me to explain what it’s like to be sleepy, Hare.” Georgia murmured.

“No! I mean-” He looked over his shoulder at her, lost himself in the gentle rock of her hips, and refocused. “I don’t really know what, like. Sheepgirls are like. What’s sleepiness got to do with anything?”

Georgia straightened up for a moment, fluffing a pillow in her hands. “Ah, yeah. Hold on, lemme think about how to put it.” She seemed to look upwards for a moment. Before yawning. “So-” She covered her mouth with her hand, pillow tucked under her armpit for a moment. “So, you know when you’re under the covers, and it’s cold out, and you gotta wake up? But you don’t really want to?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s like that. Uhm. Most girls got, like, some magic, and they can use it consciously. Sheep don’t.” She yawned again, not bothering to cover it this time. “It’s.”

Georgia went silent for a moment, looking back down. Her shoulders shook with laughter, and she spoke through the giggling. “For sheep, it’s passive!”

Harry smiled, though he didn’t quite get the joke — if there even was one. “So. So you guys can put people to sleep?”

“That’s the long and short of it, yeah. Gotta be our wool, though. Hoo, otherwise it’d be real inconvenient.” Georgia shook her head with a quiet sigh.

“Well,” Harry began, turning back to his admittedly neglected work. “At least you guys probably get good sleep. I, uh.” He canted his head in her direction, though his focus stayed on the sofa. “I’m pre-med, so, uh. Finals last year were kind of rough on my sleep schedule, and I almost got burnt out studying for them. Woulda been handy to know about this kind of stuff.”

“Ah!” Georgia seemed to perk up, though given how sedate she was before, it was more that she was buoyed up to normal enthusiasm. “We actually kind of run a little program when it’s finals and such. Most of the girls here are always ready to just latch on and cuddle, so-” She giggled. “If someone needs help sleeping ‘cuz they popped an adderall or something, they just come over, and we help them get a nap in.”

First time he’d ever heard of something like that.

“It’s that strong, huh?” Harry spared Georgia a look. Of course, he’d forgotten that she’d stripped “nude,” so that got cut short pretty much instantly. “I mean, caffeine and stuff like that…that affects your body’s chemistry. I’ve heard of succubi and such hypnotizing people, but is this, uh. This is different, huh?”

Georgia was right beside him now, folding blankets. “Wanna feel what it’s like?” She murmured with a lop-sided smile. “Most guys feel it just brushing their fingertips against a girl’s wool, so a touch oughta be fine if you just wanna get a taste.”

Harry had to admit. He was curious. He’d heard all the warnings before about predatory girls and how they’d use whatever tricks they had to reel in guys, but. What was she going to do, cuddle him to death or something? One hip pushed out, Georgia offered a flank of fuzzy, fluffy white to his eager fingertips, but Harry still hesitated. It was just one touch.

His gaze flicked up to hers. “Pull my hand away if I yawn, OK?”

Her eyes twinkled with unspoken laughter. “OK.”

He reached forward. And his fingertips touched the tuft of her wool.


It was soft, yeah. And a little warm. But besides that, there wasn’t much special about it, Harry decided. He grabbed a handful of her wool and gave it an experimental squeeze. Same as before, it was pleasant to the touch, but there didn’t seem to be any noticeable effects. He clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes at her flank. “You said I’d feel it after a touch, right?”


“Huh. Do you mind if I…?” He looked up to her again, raising another hand and bringing it to her other hip.

She shook her head with a wide smile. “Oh, not at all, hun. You just go as far as you need to. I understand it’s different for everybody, so…”

So it was OK that he reached up and took her by the hips. Rubbing her wool with two hands now, it was apparent that there was something special about it, but…it certainly didn’t make him feel any sleepier. It more kind of impressed him. He’d never felt something so soft and fluffy and warm before. It had a special quality to it, one that he couldn’t quite put into words.

Like. There was obviously no specific temperature that he would say made him feel comfortable. Sometimes he liked it warm, sometimes he liked it cool. But the temperature of her body was undeniably “just right.” Nice and warm, but it wasn’t so hot that he wanted to pull away. Quite the contrary. Harry was grabbing handfuls of it now, marveling at the sheer lightness of it.

“You like?” She whispered to him, and with a slow inhale, Georgia pushed her chest out for his lidding eyes.

“Mhm.” Harry was more keen to nod than speak, but he could manage. “It’s nice. Like, I don’t feel any sleepier. More. Relaxed, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it,” Georgia agreed with a purr. “It doesn’t make you sleepy. It relaxes you. And being relaxed just happens to let you be sleepy.”

“Mhm.” Harry nodded again. “It lets you be sleepy. That’s interesting to think about.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Georgia murmured. “I know there are some sheepgirls that sell their wool to make blankets with it. They’re all nice and snuggly, but there’s really no comparison to a real, live sheepgirl.” With a grin, she raised her hands to settle on his shoulders. “We got all sortsa perks, see?”

“Mm.” Words were getting more and more difficult to muster. All he really had to do was listen to her explain things, after all. His eyes shut, and he leaned against her, a smile curling at his lips. She reached up to stroke at the back of his head, and Harry purred.

“Aw, lookit you.” Her voice was a whisper. “You’re such a doll.” Georgia giggled, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “Pretty eager, though. But I guess it’s a compliment, huh?”

Whuh? Harry didn’t really know what she meant, but-


With a sort of half-mumbled apology, he realized that his hands on her hips had turned to two greedy handfuls of her rear. She started to sway, and he started to sway with her.

“Easy, baby. I’m not mad or anything.” She hummed in his ear, her hands going to the hem of his shirt. “I wanted to show you what it’s like to feel a girl like me. So it’s good that you wanna feel every inch of me. That’s what I want. Is that what you want, too?”

He nodded, and the motion took his face right into the crook of her neck, right into the “muffler” of wool around it. Tension bled from his body, and the inches that separated them were squished into nothing as he wriggled up against her, chest to chest, lap to lap, belly to belly. She was like a pillow, she was like a big, soft, stuffed animal. Or.

He smiled wider. Maybe it was the other way around? Maybe he was her stuffed animal. A big pillow to hug and snuggle and cuddle with. Maybe she was a kinda girly-girl that had a buncha stuffed animals on her bed. Harry shivered, and though he didn’t realize it, he was stiff in his pants.

“I wanna show you how good it can feel,” Georgia whispered. Right in his ear. He could feel her breath against the shell of it, hot, intimate, reassuring. “So I’m going to take off your shirt. Is that OK, baby?”

He nodded against her neck. He wasn’t going to budge from there anytime soon.

“Take a step back for me, baby.”

Well, unless she asked him to.

He was sort of in the liminal state between waking and sleeping, where he was too drowsy to think about what she was saying. Where he obeyed her on instinct. He didn’t think twice when she unbuttoned his shirt, nor when she pulled it off of him. He didn’t even wonder what was going on when her hands moved deftly to the front of his pants. Off went his belt, and the zipper was similarly undone seconds later.

“Step out of your pants, baby.”

He raised his right foot, then his left, and soon he was in the nude. The chilly, uncomfortable nude. The room’s temperature nearly stung his eyelids open, so unpleasantly different from Georgia’s dreamy embrace, and Harry’s placid neutrality turned to the inklings of a frown as the air — the objectively warm air — seemed to nip at him. But it didn’t matter how warm it was, because it wasn’t as snug as she was.

Her arms went around him, her wool pressed against his skin, and Harry swooned into her embrace. The contrast only showed just how wonderful her touch was, and it was with a happy little hum of pleasure that Harry nuzzled into the wool around her neck.

Of course, he’d felt her wool before, but he hadn’t felt her body pressed up against his just yet. Not like this, not his bare skin against hers and her fluff. Her breasts pillowed against his chest. Her lap pressed up against his aching prick. His arms went around her, tangling in his own embrace, and Georgia gently, gently guided the two of them down onto one of the couches.

She pulled a blanket over them, gave Harry a peck on the forehead, and let him take himself deeper.

It was how it always seemed to go, really. One touch was never enough, especially if it was their first time. A cursory brush of their fingertips against fluffy snow-white turned to a handful, a grope, and then drowsy obedience. Poor little boys too sleepy to do much more than let themselves be herded like lambs.


Georgia, wide awake despite her apparent lethargy, couldn’t help but giggle at the notion that Harry’d been practically hissing at his friend when she’d set eyes upon him. Now he was dozing peacefully in her arms, grip loosened to a sleepy loop around her waist.

And, she noted with a pleased murmur, he was hard.

Very hard.

Harry was too out of it to manage anything more than a lazy grind of his hips forward, but Georgia was more than happy to help him along. One hand reached down to take his penis by the shaft, and it was with an unconscious moan from Harry that Georgia guided him into her sex. Warm, wet, and just tight enough to feel good without being so intense as to shock him awake. And he wasn’t going anywhere until she’d had her fun with him.

“Harry,” she purred in his ear.

He murmured into her wool.

“You’re having a dream, Harry.” Georgia whispered, rocking her hips forward. “A sexy, sleepy dream.” His cock gave a twitch at that, and she giggled. “You’re dreaming about a cute, curvy sheep pinning you down and fucking you silly. She’s bouncing on your lap, riding you nice and hard and fast, just how you fantasize about.”

Harry’s lips parted just so, and his breathing quickened. It was still sedate, but now there was a certain heat on his breath, a kind of needy panting.

“She’s so sexy. She’s sexy because she’s on top and because she’s so curvy. You’re too sleepy to stop her from fucking you, and you know that if you cum inside of her, she’s going to hyp-no-tize you, and you’re going to fall asleep. Doesn’t that sound sexy?”

Harry nodded. At least, his head sort of twitched in the crook of her neck.

“It’s so sexy that she knows exactly how to make you cum.” Georgia ground her hips forward harder. Not quite faster. Harry had been hilted in her from practically the moment that she’d taken him into her, so it wasn’t as if he was given much of a rest from the sweet, suckling heat between her legs. “It’s sexy that she knows how to hyp-no-tize you. You want her to hyp-no-tize you. You want to cum for her.”

By now, she’d guided Harry onto his back. Eyes shut, mouth open a little, he was the picture of mesmerized malleability. And Georgia knew exactly what she was going to mold him into.

“You’re so aroused, baby,” she husked, rolling her hips forward, pressed up tight against her whimpering lover. “You’re so turned on, because this sexy, curvy sheep knows exactly how to treat your cock. You love it, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming inside of her.”

Hell, even Georgia was getting worked up. It’d been- It’d been ages since she had a boy as cute as Harry wrapped around her little finger, and even if this would only last until he woke up, even if he was- She bit her lower lip, thrummed with pleasure, and pushed her hips down insistently. The only sound in the room was the muffled squelch of their laps pressed together and the syncopated gasping of their breath.

He was close. She could feel it. Feel him twitching, throbbing, aching in her cunt.

“And when you cum inside her,” she hissed, “you’re going to be so sleepy, your brain is going to be so drowsy and satisfied, you’re going to listen to everything she has to say.” Georgia ground down with insistent, ravenous need. “And you want to do everything she says, so you want to cum. You wanna cum so bad, so you have-“

She gasped. He whimpered. His arms constricted tighter around her. “You hafta cum, baby. You gotta cum right. Right now!” Her voice was a needy squeak, and even under the blankets, even as comfortable and lazy and drowsy as the whole dreamy ordeal had become, Georgia and Harry were-

Her eyes rolled back. His jaw had long since gone slack.

“Cum! Cum for me, baby!” She keened, and Harry managed one single twitch upwards before-

Before he pumped a load of seed into her. She’d worry about if he were on birth control later. Right now she was going to ride this high, the ultimate soporific for both him and her. Her insistent need turned to lazy, almost drugged satisfaction, and her breathing slowed to luxurious adagio.

They stayed like that for a moment. Him plugging her sex up, keeping her womb pleasantly bloated with his seed. Her gently milking his cock for the last few drops of his cum with the clench-slack-clench of her cunt.

And then, finally, she spoke again.

“And she leans down to whisper in her ear. And you’re so sleepy, so happy and drowsy, that you can’t begin to disobey her. It feels so warm in her arms, and you love doing whatever she tells you to do.” She gave him a slow, sensuous kiss, right on his parted lips, and giggled.

“Here’s what you’re going to do, Harry…”

“I thought you wanted to look around the other frats?”

Mike had been a little surprised to hear that Harry’d made up his mind so fast. Not like it came out of nowhere, but…he’d decided quickly.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Sigma Nu seems like a nice frat. Good values. Service-oriented and all that. The house is clean, the guys are cool, the sister sorority’s nice.” He stretched out on the couch and let his eyes fall shut with a smile. “I asked Georgia about it the other day, she was happy to fill me in on the kind of activities they organize together. Seems like Sigma Nu does most of the work, but I’m not doing much anyway, you know?”

Mike managed to hold his tongue, but he couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin off his face. He leaned over, nudged Harry’s side, and simpered. “Ah? You gotta girlfriend now or something?”

Harry nudged him right back. “More like a blackmailer. She was so understanding about it, but apparently I straight up fell asleep helping her clean up the house during that party. I was mortified.”

“Ha!” That sent Mike leaning back in his seat, laughing. “Yes! Oh, my God, that’s brilliant.” His amusement mellowed. Before he shut his eyes and thought for a moment. “Mm. Hey, just outta curiosity?”


“…Anything happen to help you make up your mind as fast as you did?”

Harry went silent. He didn’t quite know why, but his breathing slowed, and his pants turned just the slightest bit tighter. “Nah, not really.”

He shifted on the sofa and made a note to talk to Georgia later.

“I guess it came to me in a dream.”

52 votes, average: 4.40 out of 552 votes, average: 4.40 out of 552 votes, average: 4.40 out of 552 votes, average: 4.40 out of 552 votes, average: 4.40 out of 5 (52 votes, average: 4.40 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.

2 thoughts on “Monster Girl Mixer: Zeta Zeta Zeta House

  1. The premise was great and I love the story. There was a bit of a problem with the overly casual style of writing. The style works well in dialogue, or in first person narration when the narrator is talking to the reader. In third person it feels somewhat out of place, though. The sudden unmarked perspective shift from Harry to Georgia felt off to me as well. It allowed you to keep telling the story, but with no warning it catches the reader off guard.

  2. A nice shift in perspective from Harry to Georgia, almost imperceptible in its scope.
    This is definitely not what I expected when I read the tag: ‘femdom’. Thank you for surprising me.

    I would label your story: “Mesmerizing”. Quinque Stella!

Leave a Reply