Just One Drink Ch. 02

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 same reason 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 some of 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 came face to face with the man that violated her in class on the rules of evidence.

"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. Me 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 time was 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 time came it 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 some flowers 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 time to time as 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 leave me alone 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 I just wanted to check on you. You know how concerned I've been. I 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 I 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 enjoy the compliments of. "Sure. Thanks," she demurred, "But none of that tells me what you're doing here."

"True," he countered, "But I 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 time they 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. Show me just how much you'd fight to keep me from 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.

"Go on slut," he said, letting his left hand wander down her body, across her tiny tits and dangerously near her pussy. "Fight me. Expose me." The moment lingered and then just as suddenly as he had started, he let her go. "Exactly. Fighting isn't really your thing, which is unfortunate because I love a good fight, but you're only capable of struggling in private." Violet blushed hard, not just because of how right he was, but because of how wet his actions had made her. Her panties were probably already visibly damp, and she was more afraid of people finding out than of what he might do to her.

"You've made your fucking point," she spat at him, "You can do whatever you want to me whenever you want to, so just tell me what you want already so I can go home and start my essay."

"My poor little Violet," James said, sardonically, "I've taken pity on you, and I've come to offer you a chance at redemption. I've decided that if you want to, we can play a little game, and if you win I'll destroy my copy of the tape and never talk to you again. Would you like that? To be a free woman instead of my own personal slut?"

Violet swallowed hard, looking for the trick. "A game, huh? And what do you get if I lose?"

"Why," he answered matter of factly, "then you have to go on a date with me. A consensual date of course. Dinner and movie. The whole deal. You have to do it of your own volition and try to have a good time. Heads or tails - you win either way, what do you say?"

"I say it sounds too good to be true," she answered suspiciously.

"Awww," he cried dramatically, mocking her, "What happened to the cute trusting Violet I used to know? It seems like only a week ago you were so sweet and kind you'd let strangers bring you home. I miss her."

"If you liked her, then you shouldn't have ruined her," Violet countered, anger creeping into her voice. "I'm not giving you an answer until you tell me what the game is, so if you're going to be difficult, I can just go home."

"That's right. You can go home, and tomorrow, or the night after or maybe sometime next week I'll show up and do whatever I want to you, and I'll claim your soul and your cunt one terrible orgasm at a time and we both know there's nothing you can do to stop me..." James said, pausing for dramatic effect, "Or you can be polite and use the magic fucking word."

The way that he could flip back and forth between kind and monstrous was something Violet had no idea how to handle, but every time he did it, it made her think he was a true sociopath. A person with actual feelings just couldn't do that, could they? Violet opened her mouth ready to tell him off, and then closed it. If he was going to offer any possible way out of his sick blackmail fantasies, it had to be worth a shot, right? Finally she answered. "Please tell me about the game you're proposing."

James smiled. "It's simple, slut, we're going to go to a business a friend of mine has, and we're going to play a little game. If you can pick the dick that took your cherry, then you win, but if you pick either of the other two guys, then you lose? Simple right? I mean, a first fuck is special in the life of any woman, even a fucked up slut like you. Surely you can remember all the details of such an important night, right? There's no way that a woman as respectable and smart as you would get blackout drunk before she spread her legs for the first time."

"I didn't get drunk and you know it," she spat back defensively. So that was his game. He never wanted to let her go, he was just rubbing it in that she couldn't remember anything. Well the joke was on him. She had met Thomas already this week, and she'd never forget that face as long as she lived. "I'll play your stupid game, but if I win I want to make sure that neither you or that creep even so much as looks at me ever again."

"Fair enough," James said, holding out his hand and shaking on it before he started walking, "Now come along, we've got to meet the other players in half an hour."

"What," Violet asked, hurrying to catch up with him. "Right now? You already arranged it? How did you even know I'd say yes?"

James laughed, "Oh Violet, there's precious little about you I don't know."

She stewed on that as they walked, continuing on in sullen silence. They left the park heading away from campus, and as they went the neighborhood got more run down, and the businesses seedier, and the graffiti more plentiful. Finally, a couple miles from her dorm, James came to a stop in front of a rundown adult bookstore.

"This? This is the place?" Violet protested as he opened the door and led her inside, flipping the sign from open to closed as he went. Inside it was even worse. Cheap DVDs and cheaper sex toys stocked the shelves and the old balding guy that was behind the counter leered at them as they walked in.

"Hey Dimitri," James said, "Toss me the keys and I'll lock up." He did, and all the while Violet's horror increased. The strange stains on the floor... the weird booths in the back. She never wanted to end up in a place that was half so sleazy, but here she was.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Violet said nervously, "Maybe we should call this off..."

"Good thing it doesn't really matter what you think Violet," James said smiling, "You can play the game or I can just bend you over that counter and fuck you after I bruise your ass for being such a stupid little slut. Either way, going home isn't an option."

"You don't own me," Violet started, "You can't just..."

"Don't fucking start with me cunt. I know you've watched the copy I gave you. Probably dozens of times by now because deep down with both know you're a natural born rape slut. I have enough on you to make sure that you have to move AND change your name." James threatened, before softening as the tears started to well in her eyes as his words once again found their mark, Look - you said you wanted to play, and we're going to play. You've got a one in three chance, so maybe you'll even succeed, even though we both know you don't remember anything about that night."

Violet tried hard not to smile as he said the last bit, not wanting to reveal her trump card. "Fine," she agreed, not able to keep all of the petulance out of her voice. "Let's just get this over with."

"Good girl," James said, handing her a lipstick.

"What's this for?" Violet said, examining it and discovering it was a shade of particularly whorish red.

"I don't want any confusion or take backs, so when you decide which guy is your Romeo, I want you to leave a bright red kiss on him so we can compare..." James explained.

"You want me to kiss my fucking rapist?" Violet interrupted.

"I want you to kiss the man you think is your rapist, but I doubt you will succeed, yes." James' tone brooked no argument, and after a second of staring at him in rage, she opened the lipstick and started applying it.

He smiled and let her back to the booths, opening up the first one. Each one was a stall with a monitor for watching porn, and there was a hole in the wall that a cock was sticking through. Violet's mouth went dry, "I thought you wanted me to pick him out of a line up," she stammered.

"Yes," he said, "A dick lineup. What could be more memorable than The feeling of the first cock to claim you. This should be a walk in the park. Only a complete whore wouldn't be able to..."

"You didn't say anything about that before," she argued, feeling desperate.

"I most certainly did cunt." James said, a note of anger creeping into his voice. "I told you dick and..."

"Yeah, but I thought it was a figure of speech - that you were just being crude for dramatic effect," Violet backpedaled,her heart sank now that she knew that even though she knew exactly what her rapist looked like, it would do her no good at all. The only reason she'd agreed to this twisted game was because she thought that was going to tip the balance in her favor. "I didn't think that.. That you would..."

"Well if that's what you thought, then I guess you feel pretty fucking stupid for not asking more questions, slut," James responded, his eyes gleaming with malicious joy. "Because these guys came all this way to play, and if you don't want to now, then I'm going to have to give them a consolation prize, and we can see just how much you enjoy being a three hole slut like you were on my video."

"No, please," She practically whimpered, remembering that scene. She'd masterbated to that scene so many times it scared her. "Don't do that. Don't let them fuck me."

"Pick a dick then cunt, and I won't have to" he whispered in her ear, "If you play the game I promise you wont have to fuck all three of us today." It scared her that his words reassured her, but they did all the same. He would toy with her. He would torment and manipulate her... but he wouldn't lie to her. She was growing increasingly sure about that.

Reluctantly she walked towards the cock in the first booth and gave it a hard look. It was average sized, and circumcised. There was nothing about it that made it memorable, but the idea that it could be her rapist's cock repulsed her. She would look at all three before she decided, but based on the height of her rapist, she was leaning towards no. These things were supposed to be proportional, right? Did that mean that short guys had small dicks? Didn't people watch midget porn because they were hung or something? She couldn't remember, but these increasingly bizarre tangents swirled in her head as she walked to door number two and opened it.

The second cock was shorter than the first one at maybe 5 inches, and uncircumsized. Could she at least remember that, she thought, reaching back to the dim recesses of her mind, trying to recall if the glans that had been forced into her mouth was shiny or dull... hooded or cut. But there was nothing. Nothing definitive anyway. It was sad, because if she could have just remembered that fact, it would dramatically have increased her odds. Reluctantly she walked to door number 3 and opened it. The last cock was circumcised and bigger than the first two. At almost 7 inches it was thick, heavy, and almost certainly too big to be her rapist.

Slowly Violet walked back to between the first two doors, where she could see both easily. She noticed that James wasn't around now. Did that mean he was one of these dicks, or was he just filming her struggling to make this decision like the perv he was. It didn't matter. All that mattered is that she had a 50/50 shot of being free from his sick little games, and she was going to take it. Was he short or average? Was he circumcised or uncircumcised? These were the questions that went through her mind. Violet's memories would be no help in this. It was going to be a game of odds.

It took a couple minutes of agonizing over the two cocks before she finally walked up to the smallest of the three and with obvious disgust, left a bright red kiss on the dick's tip before stepping back. At an unseen signal, all three dicks withdrew from the holes, and a few seconds later, all three men started to walk out of a door to the back room. James was the only one still wearing clothes, and he had zipped up his pants. The other two were stark naked, and she was incredibly saddened to see that she had chosen Dimitri's dick, not Thomas'.

For a moment, tears built up in Violet's eyes, but she forced herself not to cry, squeezing her hands into fists so hard her nails dug into the tender flesh of her palms painfully to distract her. It wasn't fair. She had been so close to putting this whole thing behind her... she was a coin flip from freedom, and she had lost. Now she would have to keep playing James' games until he got tired of her, and who knew how long that would be.

"So close," James said, full of mock sympathy echoing her internal monologue, "But sometimes things just don't work out. What can you do? Don't worry, I'll pick you up tomorrow at 6, and find some way to make this up to you."

"Fine," Violet said, her disappointment obvious, "So can I go now?"

"Sure," James said, smiling wickedly, "Just as soon as you take care of our other two contestants, I mean."

"What?!" she practically yelled, "You said that I wouldnt have to fuck all 3 of you if I played your game."

"And you won't," James responded, "I'm leaving. I have a previous engagement, and there are some things more important than pussy." Then he turned to the two men eagerly advancing on her while she slowly backed away. "Remember guys, her pussy is mine, so use her other holes and have fun."