Just One Drink; 6
Violet missed her classes for the next two days because she was sick. Whether it was the side effects of the
morning after pill, or the stress from everything that happened, she spent most of those days in bed feeling
awful. Not so awful that she didn't watch that horrible recording while she played with her clit though. It was the
most erotic and terrible thing she had ever seen. It was a sex tape of her, being fucked against her will, and she
only had the dimmest memories of it actually happening. That made it a digital out of body experience, and as
unhealthy as she knew it was to dwell on this event, she couldn't put it down. She tried to delete it a dozen
times, but she was weak, and so she watched it again instead. She told herself that if she deleted it, she'd just
have to beg James for another copy, and there was no way she'd ever be able to look herself in the mirror again
after that. It was the sreason she couldn't bring herself to call the police... because even if she did everyone
else would see her as the little victim girl, and eventually that was how she would see herself too.
Wednesday she finally returned to her classes. It was a constant battle between an inability to focus on anything
her teachers were saying because none of it really mattered and trying to ignore the knowing looks and snickers
sof the male students in her class gave her. What did they know? Was she imagining it? Were they even
looking at her? It was impossible to say, and she had no confidence in her ability to judge these things right now;
maybe she never would again, she thought. She'd watched the video enough to have a good idea of the men
that did this to her, so she could confidently say that someone didn't look like anyone on that tape, but she
wasn't sure that she could identify the identity of her actual assailants. Later that day the question was resolved
as she finally cface to face with the man that violated her in class on the rules of evidence.
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"Violet, right?" he smiled, sitting down next to her a few minutes before the class started, "I'm Thomas, we met
at the party the other night?" He laughed "You might not remember though. You were pretty hammered.and
James brought you home."
Smug bastard, Violet thought, using the thread of rage inside her to fight her urge to run or hyperventilate. She
held it all down and forced a smile, trying not to make a scene. Let him think she didn't know. Let him think that
he was getting one over on him. She knew his name, she knew his face, and she had the evidence to do
something about it. When the twas right... except she didn't, did she? Nothing on that tape made it look
anything but consensual - she looked like a horny little whore, and the whole thing seemed to be just a drunken
college hookup. When the tcit would be just and another case of he said she said, and she would be...
She realized he was looking at her expectantly. She'd missed something.
"I said," he repeated, smiling, "Maybe the three of us could go out again sometime. I'll bet you're even more fun
when you're only a little drunk."
Violet opened her mouth again to tell him off, feeling the anger rising inside so quickly that it colored her cheeks.
She was only saved from the embarrassment of that outburst in front of everyone only by the professor entering
the room. She cleared her throat and turned away, fixing her eyes on the whiteboard and pretending to pay
attention, but the only thing she heard was the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She spent the rest of
the day fuming about his brazenness and learning what classes he was in with her, so she could avoid them, or
at least make sure she sat down far from him just before the bell to avoid a repeat of today.
Wednesday after class, James sent her sflowers and a get well soon card, which she thought was both
vaguely sweet and profoundly creepy. She couldn't bring herself to get quite as worked up about him as she
could about Thomas. Taking her... raping her like that was so much more honest than taking advantage of a girl
so drunk she couldn't remember her own name; that was cowardly, despicable behavior. But Violet decided to
keep the bundle of flowers on her table, looking at them from tto tas she tried to sort through her own
emotional turmoil. In the end, all she could decide is that while she loathed Thomas and the other two mystery
men, her feelings towards James were... complicated. Thursday and Friday she managed to avoid all the evil in
her life, and finally feel almost normal. That is until James appeared after class on Friday, lounging on the stairs
of her dorm as she went to enter. "Lovely evening isn't it Violet," he said, smiling, not a care in the world.
She stopped, crossing her arms, wishing she had a way to avoid him and get back to her room where she could
hide for the weekend. "You said, you'd leavealone for a week," she said defensively, "I haven't even gotten...
nevermind" she said, realizing she didn't owe her rapist an explanation. "What do you want?"
"Me?" he feigned shock, "Why | just wanted to check on you. You know how concerned I've been. | hope you got
my flowers."
"I did," she said, finding it hard to hold out to her outrage under such unfailing politeness. "I haven't even thrown
them away."
"I never thought you would." he assured her. "You seem to be back to normal pretty quickly. Faster than | would
have thought. You're a strong girl."
Violet blushed prettily at the compliment, chastising herself at the impulse. This was her rapist, not a man to
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmenjoy the compliments of. "Sure. Thanks," she demurred, "But none of that tellswhat you're doing here."
"True," he countered, "But | didn't think you'd want to talk about that here, maybe we should go up to your room
or go for a walk."
"No, you're not going up to my room," she countered too quickly, making him smile at the psychological victory.
She was afraid of him. "Let's go for a walk."
James gave a mock bow, and followed her as they walked to the park just across the way. There were still
enough students around to make her feel safe, but they were far enough away that they wouldn't hear every
word they said. For a tthey just walked in silence, until James finally spoke. "You're not any safer here than
your room, you know. You need to get that through your head, you'll never be safe from me. Never."
"You're wrong," Violet said confidently, "If you tried anything I'd..." And that was all she got out before James
quickly stepped into her space, grabbed her by the throat, and pinned her to a tree just off the path.
"You'll what?" James asked with a predatory grin. "You'll scream? You'll struggle? You'll make a scene? Well. Go
on. Showjust how much you'd fight to keepfrom doing terrible things to you."
Violet wished she could say that she tried to do those things, but his grip on her throat was too tight and she
couldn't get a sound out... but in reality, she crumbled beneath his confidence. She was too afraid to do any of
that, and he knew it.
She just stared at him with all the fear of a frightened animal. She was no more capable of fighting him off than a
rabbit was capable of fighting a hungry wolf. If run and hide both failed then the only option left was to be
devoured.