Drusilla | Part 1 [Comm]

Story by Horatio Husky on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

#24 of Short Story Commissions

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ollie has been itching for some good haunted house action for a while now. After all, nothing like a good scare to get the blood pumping! However, when he finds himself lost inside of the very mansion he paid an expensive ticket for, he finds out that he might have gotten more than what he originally bargained for.Contains: Diapers, Hypno, Brain-drain, Bloodsucking, NSFW, StickiesRating: 18+

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Commission for: BoopyDoopy

Thumbnail design and story by: HoratioHusky

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If you are interested in commissioning a story from me, click here for information.

Make sure to follow me on Twitter for updates and previews of my writing!


Drusilla

By Horatio Husky

Commissioned by Ollie the sheep

Part 1: Drusilla Hall

"Beware all ye who enter here!"

Red lettering scrawled with the haste of one using blood as ink was smattered across a wooden sign which hung precariously by a single hinge. Positioned above the worn, black-painted Victorian doors the forewarning text was proudly displayed at the entrance to a haunted house.

After seeing the residence listed as one of the top ten haunted houses in the country, Ollie had eagerly purchased tickets and waited with baited breath for the opening to come.

Soon enough, the day had arrived. With the wistfully chilly feeling of fall air playing across his green painted muzzle, the sheep half skipped his way to the back of the line forming in front of the looming establishment.

The windows were black, with several old-fashioned shutters hanging dangerously on their last few hinges. The entire place was 'freshly unrenovated' as it's historical significance prevented it from being knocked down. Since the cost of legitimate renovation was too steep to be justified, a compromise had been reached by the owners.

After an architecture journalist had commented that the place looked fit for nothing else other than a haunted house, the decision had been made to do just that. Several months later, they announced that 'The Drusilla Hall' had been opened to the public, just in time for October.

Ollie stood impatiently, his Frankenstein costume stating that he had been eagerly planning this evening for quite some time. Idly, he perused through the pamphlet he had picked up at the front of the line. Having read through the material several times now, he craned his neck around and tried to gage how much longer he would have to wait.

He had not been the only eager beaver wanting to see the inside of the haunted house, as the line stretched for several blocks making it so he could not even see the dilapidated structure from where he stood.

"Hrmpf..."

Looking behind him, he saw that the line appeared to stretch as far back as it did forwards.

Yeesh... They really did a number on public outreach, didn't they?

Deciding that it would be best for him to settle in for the long haul, Ollie reached into his pocket to pull out his earbuds. His sheep ears twitching to clear any strands of curly hair that might get in the way, he put them in and hit play on his phone.

Dubiously, the sheep took a couple of steps every few minutes. In the distance, even through the music jamming in his ears, he could hear the distant but distinct sound of screams and hollers.

The chorus of horror emanating from the direction of the haunted house only further exasperated the keen fur. Sighing audibly, he switched over to a DnD podcast instead and did his best to ignore the lugubriously slow queue in front of him.

[Approximately Two Hours Later]

The evening had dragged on slowly, with several fursons giving up in exasperation behind the sheep and leaving. Unfortunately, it appeared that the furs in front of him held more resolute determination than those further behind in the queue.

Ollie checked his watch, pulling back a ragged sleeve to see how long he had been waiting as at last he rounded the last corner of the block. With the haunted house in view, he noted that he had been waiting two hours and forty seven minutes.

This better knock my socks right off...

Feeling slightly crabby but still determined, Ollie continued the slow shuffle forward towards an equally bored looking ticket clicker. A ferret, wearing a green outfit resembling a minecraft slime, popped her lime green gum in her mouth loudly as she repeatedly scanned QR codes appearing bored.

At last, mercifully, it became Ollie's turn to have his ticket scanned.

"We're closing up in a few minutes, you're the last one."

A round of boos and sounds of disappointment rose up from behind the sheep, who gulped nervously. He had been exceptionally lucky. His prior irritation now gone, he strode hastily inside of the open, tall doors.

Stuffing his earbuds back into his pocket, Ollie was immediately taken aback by the sudden silence of the house's interior. All sounds of protest and disturbance from outside seemed to be absorbed and muffled by the house. The only vibrations his ears could pick up were the creaking of floorboards beneath his hooves and the distant sound of muffled screams coming from further along the hallway.

The sheep glanced backwards, noting that he was indeed the last one to have entered the house.

Well... Might as well take my time then!

Disregarding the arrows that had been drawn in luminescent paint on the walls, Ollie began to slowly meander between the weary bones of the ancient home. Cobwebs that he realized were actually real appeared to garb every corner of the various rooms, like wretched drapery poorly disguising the house's rotten insides.

Although some effort had been made to ensure that at least the floorboards that Ollie walked on would not collapse, it was obvious from the peeling wallpaper to the water damage in the ceiling that the place was in dire need of repair.

His mouth opened from the sheer awe of witnessing such a state of architectural decay. Ollie found himself wandering aimlessly. Tapestries and framed paintings displaying ancient, noble looking furs of various species seemed to follow him with their eyes no matter where he stood. A shiver ran down his spine, even as a little grin spread across his muzzle. This was the experience he had been looking forward to.

Suddenly, he stopped. Abruptly he turned around, seeing the poorly illuminated hallway whose only source of luminescence were a few, thin streams of moonlight peaking through several boarded up windows.

In the air, dust floated gently like grey snow. Appearing and disappearing once more after passing through the beams of lunar-filtered sunshine.

A moment later, Ollie realized that he had not been scared by any actors or mechanisms. Not once. He frowned, turning around several times once more as he tried to figure out whether it was he or the staff that had made a mistake.

Did I... Go the wrong way? What about the-

From deep inside the house, a loud, wooden thud could be heard followed by

the tell-tale click of a lock being clicked into place.

The sheep's heart skipped a bit, his little tail flicked back and forth rapidly in irritation before he set off in the direction of the noise. Rounding the corner, Ollie found that he had managed to make his way back to the front of the house. Alarmed at seeing the open doors had now been shut, he rushed forward and began banging his fists against the ancient wood.

"Hey! You locked me in here! Hello? Help! I'm locked in!"

Shouting at the top of his lungs, the sheep continued to bang now in desperation on the doors. Despite their decrepit appearance, they held strong. Ollie felt his heartbeat beginning to pick up as he took in several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Looking around, he told himself that he could figure it out.

He grimaced, his muzzle drawing up in a tight-lipped smirk before he gave the door one final, satisfying stomp with his hoof to vent his frustration. Turning around, he hesitated briefly before continuing deeper into the house in search of a tool to pry the door open.

Deep within the recesses of the rotting mansion, a creature stirred. In the pitch black, inside an ancient stone coffin engraved with thorns, petals, and lush roses a monster had awoken.

A soft, red glow emanated from inside of the coffin pouring through the seam between the slab and coffin bottom. Deep within the crypt underneath the house, a female baritone let loose a laugh that bounced against the stone walls of the wine cellar and worked their way up through the house.

The sheep nervously clip clopping two floors above tensed, his ears picking up on the sound causing him to whirl around.

"Who's there!?"

He shouted out, an uncontrolled quiver coming out through his voice. He squinted, trying to make out whether there was anybody standing in the dark shadows of the hallway.

The sheep's heart skipped a beat. Out of the darkness a pair of red, glowing eyes appeared to materialize out of thin air. A tall, noble face followed shortly after as the tall figure stepped into the moonlight streaming in from a musty window to their left.

Ollie gasped, frozen in fear. The fur in front of him appeared to be a borzoi, a rare species of canine fur that he had never encountered before. Her regal, gangly form was accented by the pair of fangs that she revealed in a ghoulish smile spreading across her proud muzzle.

Her clothes were starch black, her fur a pale, snow white causing her wardrobe to strongly accent her appearance as dastardly and aggressively sanguine. A high collar complimented her long nose, her entire facade appearing as a pinnacle of the sanguine hierarchy which she dominated.

Behind her, a pair of bat-like wings extended out of her shoulder blades and poked brutishly out of her clothing. Leathery, almost flakey in appearance they seemed to have a mind of their own. They twitched and flapped haphazardly causing plumes of dust to twist and coil around her feet as if to exaggerate her dramatic entrance.

"And I vas just getting peckish!"

Her voice came out with a thick accent, her tongue flicking against her fangs with a heavy tone that delivered each syllable with an air of profound deliberation. Her message dropped onto the mortal fur's consciousness like the heavy weight of anti-christ's demonic condemnation.

A flash of movement, and the vampiress was upon the helpless sheep. Levitating several inches above the ground her wings flapped once as she closed the distance between them. Ollie's muzzle opened in a silent cry of surprise, lost in his throat as fangs plunged themselves deep into the side of his supple neck.

Petrified, his arms and hands spread out and frozen in a state of magical stasis he could only bear witness to the vampire draining him of his life force. Unseen behind his face, a look of profound demonic fury filled the muzzle of the vampiress. Her eyes shifted from glowing red to appearing as large, crimson orbs as her muzzle contorted into an infernal grimace.

She swallowed several times, tasting the sweet, innocent blood of the costumed fur as her ancient consciousness deliberated on what she would do with her new victim.

After only a few seconds, which felt like eons to the poor sheep, she withdrew from the bite, arching her head backwards as she released him. Composing herself, she daintily dabbed at her lips with a cloth napkin drawn from the depths of her long, hanging sleeves. Her previously terrifying visage resumed its previously pristine, almost maternal appearance.

Ollie felt light-headed, he swayed before falling down onto his knees, arms limp at his sides. His eyes appeared glazed over as his muzzle was slightly agape, his jaw slack.

His initial sense of panic had been replaced by a dull, warm sensation that blanketed his mind. The vampiress's bite had caused him to plunge into a state of bleary confusion, feelings and emotions of pain and pleasure tumbled over themselves until an uncanny feeling of safety and comfort defeated all other thoughts and overwhelmed his mind.

He was hooked.

Settling down in front of him, the vampiresses began to pace slowly in a circle around her charge. She peered down her imperial muzzle at him, her eyes receding from red orbs back to cat-like slits as she studied the mortal vessel in front of her. Her tongue ran along her muzzle, licking her fangs while she contemplated the flavors of his life blood.

At last she stopped in front of him, towering several feet above him; her predatory visage appeared to pierce through the complete summation of his identity. The air felt cold around her, a dank smell of moss and rotting flower petals surrounding her and engulfing the sheep's olfactory senses.

He was smitten.

"A new pet, perhaps? That vill do."

She looked him over once again, noting the childish Frankenstein costume he had put on earlier that evening. Picking up on his childish, natural fur coat and cute, hazy expression on his muzzle she smirked to herself.

"Cute too... I keep."

Her thick, borderline slavic accent appeared to contain notes of satisfaction in it for she had come to a conclusion. Unbeknownst to the still dazed sheep, he had just been chosen to be the vampire's new chosen familiar.

The undead countess snapped her fingers, a sound that shattered through the sheep's dazed state like a splash of cold water. Although he still felt as if there was a blanket over his mind, he found that he was at least able to fully perceive the vampiress' presence and commands.

His limbs moving as if beckoned on by the urgings of a puppeteer, he felt himself lie down flat onto the faded, red carpet lining the hallway.

"Dis vill keep you from needing to run off, my little pet."

Blinking slowly, his mouth still open from his magically induced sedative state, he could just see and feel the undead queen unbuckle and pull down his pants. Something deep inside of his disorientated state, a feeling of self-consciousness emerged causing him to blush.

The red, slitted eyes of the vampiresses flitted upwards and fixated on the blush that now adorned the sheep's cheeks, her mouth opening reflexively as a droplet of saliva formed on one of her fangs. Controlling herself, she shut her mouth and spoke in an admonishing tone.

"Now now, darling. It is not polite to tempt your mistress with such delicious crimson cheeks, is it now?"

Still crimson and feeling helpless, Ollie watched as the vampiress withdrew a plastic square out of the depths of her robe. Small decorations of candy corn, ghosts, and cartoon skulls appeared distributed across its plastic exterior, giving an impression of appropriate seasonal relevance.

"Now then, to keep my carpets free of puddles as vell."

Her voice landed upon the word, 'puddles' like stone sinking beneath the surface of a bottomless lake, Ollie came to understand her intention. Unfolding the square, the sheep realized that she had just unfurled a diaper. A small squeak of protest escaped his throat, which was promptly ignored by the being in front of him as she gently tapped the right outer side of his thigh.

Uncannily, he floated up several inches above the carpet while the vampiress laid it out beneath him. Gently tapping him again, he floated downwards until his exposed bottom alighted onto the soft, absorbent material beneath him.

"I always vanted a little baby, running around all thoughtless and dopey. You vill do quite nicely, I think."

Pulling up the front of the diaper over his crotch, Ollie felt himself growing more and more flustered while she stretched each tape over into place. Soon enough, he had been fully encased inside of the thick, fluffy diaper. Spreading his legs apart by several inches, he understood that she must have intentionally placed him into padding so thick that he would have difficulty maneuvering around.

"Now then, vaddle little duckling."

Snapping her fingers, Ollie felt a sudden sense of weightlessness throughout his body as he was oriented upwards. Landing softly onto his hooves, the sensation vanished as quickly as it appeared. He teetered unsteadily, unused to the sensation of bulk forcing him into a slight spreadeagle position.

Her movements as quick as the wind, the vampiresses appeared further down the hallway her arms outstretched. Palms upward, she beckoned with her fingers towards herself as she spoke up once again.

"Come now, darling. Come to Mama Drusilla and she will give you a nice, varm bottle of milk."

Compelled, unable to disobey her, Ollie took a hesitant step forward. Normally, he would have not had as much trouble as he was having now despite the thick, absorbent pillow keeping his legs apart. However, something about the overpowering, intimidating presence of the immortal being in front of him instilled a sense of fear and admiration inside of him that he found utterly irresistible.

Step by step, one shaky leg following another, he was able to comically make his way over to the vampiress just like he had with his own mother when he had been a lamb learning how to take his first steps.

Arriving in front of her, he fell forward and collapsed into her open arms. Sweeping him up into a tight embrace, Drusilla gently hugged her charge. Cooing softly into his sensitive ears, Ollie felt a tingle run down his spine as she whispered.

"Now den, I think it's time to reward my little lamb...No?"