Just One Drink

Warning: This is a particularly dark story that contains nonconsensual sex and other kinks that are not for everyone. Reader discretion is advised.

*

So far college had been an easier transition than she expected, academically, but Violet was definitely out of her element at this party, which she'd been dragged to. She was a quiet girl throughout high school that had been more into books than boys. Suddenly becoming a freshman hadn't magically made her more exciting. Or prettier. Her awkward coltish body hadn't filled out into womanly curves, and her plain form hadn't been blessed with any last-minute growth spurts. She was still as flat at 19 as she had been years ago. After being mistaken for a boy for the third time this week she'd decided that she was going to have to grow her hair out to something longer than the pixie cut she'd favored for years just to keep that from happening again.

For some reason, she'd let herself be dragged to this party by some of her new friends in her program, and somehow, they'd even managed to get a drink in her hand. She didn't know anyone though, so once they'd disappeared to flirt with guys, she'd been forced to adopt the strategy of standing in the corner until it was late enough for her to politely leave. So far it seemed to be working out. A few guys had tried to talk to her, but after a little awkward small talk they'd moved on to girls that were prettier, funnier, or both. She'd only been at school for a month, but she vowed silently to herself not to do this again anytime soon.

The movies made these things seem much more fun but being wedged into a large house just off campus with what had to be close to 100 of her fellow students in her university's pre-law program was mostly just boring and awkward. The crowd was mostly freshmen with some sophomores and upperclassmen too. They were supposed to be talking about the law program and what to expect, but mostly everyone was settling into small knots of friends and getting drunk or pairing off so they could better get to know the student body under the covers when this thing ended in a few hours. That was exactly what you would expect from a room full of hormonal university students though, wasn't it?

Finally at close to 10, she decided she'd made enough of an appearance. With one quick drink, Violet knocked back what remained of the cheap beer she'd been holding most of the night and set it on an empty table. She was just sipping it earlier, because she didn't want anyone to see it empty and put another one in her hand, but once she picked it back up when she got back from the bathroom, she'd just held it because it was more than half gone. She had trouble telling people no, and if they figured that out, she'd end up wasted by the end of the night. That would make the evening even worse than it already was. She'd lost her friends hours ago and hadn't gotten any of her questions about the curriculum answered, so it wasn't going to be any loss she thought, if she bailed now.

Slowly made her way through the crush to the door. If she made it home soon, she could still catch a couple of episodes of the latest streaming show that hooked her before it was time for bed. She was almost free of the noise and the heat and into the cool night air before some guys she hadn't talked to before, dragged her into a conversation about what she thought of the teachers with his friends. She couldn't remember his name, but she'd seen him around in a couple of her classes. This was the last thing she wanted now, but this was the only school related conversation she had all night. So she humored them for a few minutes. Since classes had just started, she did more listening than talking, and after the room started to feel oppressively hot, Violet made her excuses, and headed toward the exit.

Once outside she started to feel a little dizzy, so she sat down on a low retaining wall, and waited for her head to clear. She looked up to the stars and appreciated the night sky, not just for the sweet cool breezes, but for the way it made everything stop spinning. Eventually her reverie was interrupted as a couple of smokers came up to her.

"Hey, hey man - Sorry... Uhhmm, Miss - you okay?" The tall one asked, some concern in his voice. Violet didn't remember closing her eyes, but she slowly opened them anyway, turning to look at them without sitting up.

"I'm fine," She said, "just fine. I was just taking a little rest."

"Just resting, huh?" the stranger said, a note of mirth creeping into his voice. "You going back to the party then?"

"No, no" Violet said, repeating herself as she tried to remember where she was going if it wasn't to the party. "No. I'm going to... to... I'm going back to..."

"Your room?" The shorter guy offered helpfully.

"Yes,'' she said, ''My room. I'm going back to my dorm room. How did you know?" she asked, in all seriousness. Afterall, if she didn't know exactly, how could they have known?

"Alright" The tall one said, "So are we, you just wait there, and as soon as we finish smoking, we'll walk you back and make sure you get there safe, okay?"

"Aww, thanks," Violet said, trying and failing to rise, "You guys are too sweet. You don't need to trouble yourself though. As soon as I finish resting, I'll..." She paused, losing her train of thought. "I'll be fine by myself."

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, tall guy and short guy were back. "Come on miss, let's help you up," the tall one said, each of them taking a hand and helping her rise unsteadily to her feet. "What's your name?"

"Violet," she said, after only a few seconds of deliberation. "I'm a freshman and was here to learn more about the law program.".

"Ah, that's it," Tall guy said, less to her than to his friend, "She's new here and can't hang with all the alcoholics. They both laughed, and she joined in belatedly.

"Too too true," Violet said between giggles, not quite remembering the joke, "but I only had one drink,"

"Sure you did Violet - just the one, huh?" Tall guy chuckled to himself, "So which dorm is your room in?"

"I'm not sure..." Violet said, looking around and realizing that all the buildings sort of looked the same.

They both laughed at that. "Well, if you can't remember you can always crash on our couch and figure it out in the morning when you sober up," short guy chimed in.

"No, that's alright, I'll..." That was the last thing Violet remembered before she woke up in her own bed.

The sun was streaming through her curtains, as she unpleasantly discovered as she shut her bleary eyes. Maybe those guys were right. Maybe she did have a few more drinks she'd just blanked out on. She felt terrible. Her eyes hurt, her head hurt, her body hurt, and she felt the desperate need to brush her teeth. But for the moment at least she refused to face the day and rolled over to cover her head with the blanket; she needed to thank them for helping her get back home safely, Violet thought. She would never have gotten back to her bed without their help.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning, she finally resigned herself to the idea that sleep wasn't coming so she decided to face the day. Getting out of bed she found herself still dressed in last night's outfit, and she started unzipping it as she walked to the bathroom. On the way there she noticed that the floor was cluttered which was strange, because she thought she'd remembered cleaning up before she went out last night. But that wasn't the priority Right now she needed to feel human and wash away the party. She felt stained by the smells of secondhand drinking and smoking she was suffused with. She let her dress fall around her feet just outside the bathroom before she walked past the mirror and vanity, not sparing it a glance as she started to run the water so it could get hot. Then Violet undid her bra and let it fall to the floor automatically while waiting for the steam to start to rise.

It was only when she leaned down to ease off her cotton panties and let them fall down around her ankles so she could kick them off that she got the feeling that something was wrong. Looking down she could see a black stain on the waistband of her panties, and beyond that, bruises on her legs... not the normal one or two she had from being clumsy as she bumped into furniture, but broad ones like handprints on her thighs and ankles.

She rushed back to the mirror and looked to see what else she hadn't noticed in her fogged state and was horrified to discover that something awful must have happened to her last night. RAPEDOLL was written across her barely visible breasts, and CUMDUMP was written above her pussy in the same hand. That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was the tally marks on her Inner thigh. If she was reading them right, 8 men had fucked her last night, or she'd been cum at least 8 times. She didn't know what they were supposed to mean, because she didn't remember. She'd gone to bed a virgin and woken up a whore.

Violet rushed into the shower, the tears coming hard now. She'd never had sex with anyone before and hadn't dated in a year - not since she'd figured out that she might like girls more than she liked boys. How could this happen, she thought, chastising herself as she turned the water hotter and soaped up a washcloth so she could try to wash away the terrible evidence. Now that she knew what had happened... Now that she was aware of what must have happened to her, it wasn't her body that hurt anymore, as it had so indistinctly in bed. Her wrists hurt from where she must have been held down. Her jaw ached from when she must have been forced to suck cock, her ass and her pussy felt raw from where she had been used while she was unconscious, and most of all her tits hurt from where she'd been brutally and painfully molested. Her entire body had been defiled. Every first... Every Hole... Every inch of her had been claimed by faceless strangers.

The crying didn't stop, but eventually the scrubbing did as she collapsed and curled up into a ball at the bottom of her shower. It was only there when she started sobbing so hard, she thought she would break that she started to remember things. First just little flashes of last night. A cock. A slap. A pair of hands holding her down. The longer she sat there though, the more these little images resolved into details and terrible moments.

She was on her hands and knees on her own bed as someone grabbed a handful of her short hair and tried to get his cock inside her mouth. She refused to open it though and so instead he rubbed the slimy head along her lips, then suddenly whoever was holding her hips thrust forward, forcing his dick all the way inside her in one painful thrust. But before she could focus fully on the pain, she was consumed by thoughts about how she was being violated in two holes simultaneously. Each thrust from one direction pushed her harder into the other... It was terrifying, and disgusting, but also strangely arousing.

Violet shook her head free herself from the terrible image and looked down, surprised to find she had two fingers in her pussy. This was wrong. This was terrible. She shouldn't be fingering herself to the idea of being violated. She definitely shouldn't be this wet, and while Violet tried to come to grips with that, she struggled to decide which would be less disturbing: if she was soaking because she was aroused by what had happened to her, or if she was still wet from all the cum her rapists had forced inside of last night.

She went to pull her fingers out in disgust, but something about the way she was sitting reminded her of the way she was straddling one of her rapists when the other one forced her down against him and shoved his dick inside her tight ass. The memory was revolting... The idea that she'd ever be okay with something like that... of feeling both cocks glide against each other as they wrestled for space deep inside the guts of her tiny body. It was disgusting... But she couldn't stop pumping her fingers in and out of her pussy while she remembered all the terrible things that happened to her. In a way that disgusted her almost as much as the memory of someone fucking her asshole. But it felt so good.

She tilted her face up into the spray with her eyes closed and tried to let the spray of water blank out her mind - to forget the awfulness she'd endured and at the same time she tried to wash away all of her negative feelings from her soul with the rising tide of pleasure emanating from her clit. She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn't be sexualizing her trauma, but it was the only refuge, and it was awfully inviting.

The dark thrill combined with the water cascading from her face to remind her of another terrible scene. This one must have happened at the end of the night, because she was slumped on the floor in exhaustion as three or four men, she didn't know jerked off all over her face, shooting rope after rope of hot sticky semen across her skin and hair. She didn't know them, but she could hardly concentrate on their faces with the disgusting sensation consuming her. It made her skin crawl, and with her eyes closed the water only added the illusion as she imagined that even now, she was covered in her rapist's cum. She was permanently dirtied... stained by the terrible thing they had done to her, and she didn't see how she would ever be clean again.

It was this final thought that pushed her over the edge into a cripplingly powerful orgasm. Even in the throes of pleasure she imagined that she was on the floor surrounded by the monsters that did this to her, dripping with their disgusting sperm as she came for her tormentors. She would never ever do something so wrong, but in the moment the forbidden image made everything that much hotter, and she came like a whore with two fingers stuffed deep inside her ravaged pussy.

After the blissful afterglow faded though, she was left with only shame and the dull ache from her torments. What was she supposed to do after something like this happened to her? Should she call someone? The police? Would they believe her? She'd probably just washed away what little evidence there was, and it's not like she could remember enough about any of the perpetrators for a conviction, or even an arrest probably. She thought about some of the rape cases she'd followed, and how traumatic it appeared to be for the victims. The reporters eventually found out their identity and then they hounded them for all the salacious details. Imagining that now it seemed like a whole second rape; there was no way she could go through such a thing. Better to pretend it never happened. Better to let the scant details drift away until she could convince herself it was just a party that got out of hand.

"Or I could just kill myself," she added in a barely audible whisper while she continued to sit on the cold wet floor. It was a last resort for sure, but people had done it for less hadn't they? No, she decided after a moment of silence, slowly rising to her feet. She wasn't going to do that. They weren't worth it. If there was anything she was good at it was baring the slings and arrows of a life which had never been kind to her. Not since well before she'd been institutionalized in high school.

She could do this.

Tomorrow.

She could do this tomorrow.

She thought, as she started drying off. Now she just wanted to go back to bed and forget all the terrible things that had happened. Tomorrow she could go to school and pretend that nothing had happened. She could throw herself into her academics until she either had top marks or a nervous breakdown, whichever came first. Today she could crawl into bed, tune out the world, and pretend that today never happened. And that worked for a while, but sometime towards the evening, when the sunset was streaming through her curtains in reds and oranges there was a knock at her door that woke her up out of her temporary coma. Violet looked at the door but did not make any move to get up. It was probably one of her friends from the party last night, and she knew if she started talking about it, she'd just start crying again.

So, she waited in silence for them to go away, and after another minute there was another knock. This one was more forceful. "Come on Violet," an unfamiliar voice said, "I know you're in there, and I brought pizza."

She didn't know who that was, or how it was that he knew her, but she felt no need to investigate further as she looked at the door with antipathy and annoyance. At least until he followed up with "We need to talk about last night," after that she sat up in bed immediately. How could someone know about last night? Unless he was a part of it? She was filled with fear then, but also anger. What was the right thing to do here? Should she ignore him? Should she talk to him? Should she call the police? After a moment of deliberation, she got out of bed wearing only her panties and her long shirt and padded quietly to the door to look in the peephole. The man on the other side of the door was a little taller than her, and a little older, but she didn't recognize anything about him. Not in her hazy recollections of the party or in the terrible snatches of memory from later that night she was already trying to forget. He was in fact carrying a pizza and had a little laptop bag over his shoulder, while he stood there, smiling to himself.

"I know you're in there," he said, quietly this time. "I've got something you're definitely going to want to see Violet."

"Go away," she said, barely audible through the door. "I don't want anything, and if you know what happened, then you know why. Just, please... leave me alone."

"I know. I get that. But I'll bet you don't know what happened last night, do you?" he said. This conversation itself was starting to make her nervous. What if one of the people that lived next store was listening? What if they figured out what they were talking about? "If you don't join me for dinner then you'll never have the evidence you need for..."

Violet opened the door, not so much convinced by what he was saying so much as he didn't want her to say anymore in the hallway. She was mortified that anyone might find out, because once anyone knew, it would only be a few days before everyone knew. But it was only when she opened the door that she was even more embarrassed to realize that she wasn't wearing any pants.

"What do you want?" she hissed, stepping back as she tugged down her nightshirt to just above her knees. "Say what you need to say and then get out." The stranger opened his mouth to speak but she quickly interrupted him, "And if you so much as touch me I swear to Christ I'll scream. If you think I'm just some helpless little victim..."

He laughed sardonically, stepping in the room and closing the door behind him. "Don't worry Violet, I don't think you're a victim. I'm James by the way, and in a few minutes, I promise everything will make a lot more sense, but first, why don't you put some pants on while I find us some plates, and we'll have dinner. I doubt you've eaten anything all day, have you?"

She ignored him, turning to find her least sexy pair of sweatpants, while dishes clattered in the kitchen. She wanted to ignore everything he was saying, but now that she could smell that pizza, she was surprised to discover that she was in fact starving. She could eat his pizza and hear him out... But then she was kicking this weirdo out even if she had to call the police.

She returned from her closet, finally decent in the sloppiest way possible, to find him set up at the table. She took the glass of water obviously intended for her, dumped it out in the sink and then took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and opened it, glaring at him. James for his part only chuckled, shook his head and started to eat while Violet sat down.