The CUNT Rapist

[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: MF, noncon, voyer, FF
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An explosive chapter where Alex rapes Stan on Danielle's bed while Danielle and Violet watch inside the closet. And they do a little more than watching.

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Chapter 26 A Hollow Victory

The plan worked wonderfully. We tricked Stan into thinking Sums was at Danielle and Violet’s apartment. On the way over he spewed out drunken nonsense just like Jason did the week prior. I didn’t even try to understand it this time. Once we got to the apartment, Danielle asked a question I knew was coming. “So where are we taking him?” I pretended to think for a few moments while Stan let out a giggle and said something in drunkanese. “Danielle’s bed would be easiest. Just put a towel over it and I’ll be all set. Won’t even make a mess, promise!” I of course already chose the location long before. Why Danielle’s bed you might ask? No idea, some kind of OCD impulse to do it in Danielle’s bed to balance things out since I did it in Violet’s bed the week prior.

“Can you both help me take his clothes off? It’s going to be a pain to do it myself,” I asked. Violet looked at me with narrowed eyes. Did the way I asked make her suspicious about something? Suddenly I wasn’t so sure having help was such a great idea, but there was no turning back now. The girls both stripped him of his clothes and lay him on the bed. Stan was oblivious in his own little world thinking Danielle was Sums and mentioning something Violet was wearing. I don’t know, he was still speaking in the language of the drunks.

“Ok, I’m all set.” I said. Danielle and Violet just stood there. “I’m a little embarrassed about this,” Danielle admitted, “but voyeurism turns me on.” Her face flushed red at the admission. The thought of Danielle watching me naked made me feel uncomfortable about her seeing all the fat on my body. “Um,” I said with my own cheeks turning red.

Thankfully, Violet broke the tension. “Us in the closet,” she said to Danielle. “Will that be enough even though you won’t see that much?” Danielle nodded. That didn’t make me feel much better. Violet saw the look on my face hadn’t changed and added “Danielle, are you good to do what we did at our last high school party.” Danielle frowned, “I don’t remember much of that party.” Violet whispered something into Danielle’s ear and her face flushed red again. I caught the implication. Danielle had a woman to woman experience with Violet in the past.

“I’m not so sure,” Danielle said with an apprehensive look on her face. Violet said in a flirty tone “Is that a fun no, or an actual no?” The monster in me recognized Violet’s flirt. Violet had a dark side, and the thought of her forcing herself on Danielle while I forced myself on Stan was intoxicating. “No judgement,” I said, “I’m about to do it for real over here you know.” Danielle’s body relaxed a hair and she said “Fun no.” They went into the closet together and disappeared into the darkness.

I felt their eyes on me as I undressed, but it was better than them being directly in the room with me. It also helped to focus on Stan. As I got on top of him, I could tell that he was getting a little more sober. “Who that?” He still didn’t recognize me. Good. “Vengeance,” I whispered to him. His face twisted in confusion. “Wha I do?” I climbed on top of him and said “Sums. You raped her. She can't even get out of bed because of what you did to her.”

“Yo gessh off what shoo doin?” His words slurred worse than anyone I heard before. Whatever he drank must have been some strong stuff. “Noo my fooo, watch gone.” My hand lashed out before I realized what I was doing, striking him across the face. “You’re getting a taste of your own medicine,” I growled. “You hurt Sums, now I’m gonna hurt you.”

Stan put his hands up defensively, his movements slow and uncoordinated. “Nono, no...” I slapped him again, harder this time. His head snapped to the side, and he raised a hand to his reddening cheek. The smell of alcohol rolled off him in waves. I started rubbing my hands all over him. He tried to push my hands away, but his movements were feeble and uncoordinated. The alcohol had robbed him of his strength, just as the drugs had robbed Sums of hers.

“Geoff meee! Oooof! Mmph!” I ignored his pleas, just as he had ignored Sums'. My body hummed with dark anticipation as I positioned myself against him. I kept one hand firmly over his mouth, my other hand guiding him where I wanted him. He tried to twist away, but there was nowhere he could twist to. I pressed forward, taking him inside me. His body betrayed him, responding despite his protests. I rode him methodically, my eyes never leaving his face. I wanted to see every flicker of emotion, every moment of realization that he was powerless to stop what was happening.

“How…does…it…feel?” I grunted between thrusts, my voice harsh. “To…have…no…control…” Stan's eyes filled with tears. He tried to turn his head away, but I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me. “You…won’t…hide…” My hips moved faster, driven by a rhythm of rage and vengeance. Waves of dark satisfaction pulsed through me with each thrust. This was justice. This was karma. This was for Sums, lying broken in our dorm room, unable to face the world because of what this monster had done to her.

But I was doing the same thing to him, would that make me the worse monster? The thought flickered through my mind and was gone just as quick, lost in the physical sensations overtaking my body. I felt the tension building inside me, that familiar pressure coiling tighter and tighter. When it finally released, it wasn't the mindless ecstasy I'd experienced with my previous victims. This was sharper, more painful, and it didn’t feel as satisfying.

Stan made a choked sound and his body jerked. I felt him finish inside me, his eyes squeezed shut in what looked like shame rather than pleasure. I stayed motionless for a moment, my breathing ragged, before pulling away from him. This wasn’t like the others. Why wasn’t it like the others? The others felt like a Thanksgiving dinner meal where your stomach and taste buds bask in the bliss of what you ate. Stan felt like a cheap TV dinner that satisfied the biological need of hunger, but didn’t taste anywhere near as good.

“We’ll get him out of here for you.” Danielle quietly said, startling me. I had forgotten they were both there in the closet. Both their hair was a little disheveled, but it didn’t look like they got too wild in there. “Take a shower and put the towel in the laundry bin.” Violet chimed in, her voice shaky. “Sheets too, even if they look clean there needs to be no evidence he was here.” I looked down at Stan one last time. His eyes were closed and tears wet his cheeks. I had broken something in him, just as he had broken something in Sums. But the victory tasted like ashes in my mouth.

The shower didn’t feel as refreshing as it had last week. “It’s not enough,” I whispered to myself as the hot water poured onto my skin. “Everyone who was involved needs to pay, not just him.” Uttering that aloud made my victory against Stan feel even more hollow. Suddenly out of nowhere I just started crying. I realized it didn’t matter what I did to Stan, Sums would still be in that broken state when I returned to the dorm room. Getting even at Stan wouldn’t suddenly bring Sums back to her old self.

When I finished with my shower and dressed, I emerged from the bathroom to find Danielle and Violet in the living room area. They both looked away from me as I emerged, but I could see a flash of something in their eyes. Fear. They were afraid. Had I made a terrible mistake in bringing them into this? Was my need for revenge about to cost me everything?

“Tonight didn’t happen,” Violet said quietly, her voice still shaky. “We left the party early to study. Right Danielle.” Danielle nodded “R…right,” she stammered. “Stan was at the party when we left,” I added. “I saw him go up the stairs. That’s our story and we’ll stick to it.” “Agreed,” the pair said in unison.

As I walked back to my dorm alone, I couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted tonight. Not just for Stan, not just for my co-conspirators, but for me. I did this one for revenge, not for fun. My body ached in every soft place. I kept flashing back to the moment Stan came, his eyes shut. I loved the feeling of a cock throbbing inside me, but this time it was different.

The dorm hallway was mercifully empty. I let myself in and found Sums where I’d left her, cocooned under the covers with only her hair visible. Nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change no matter what I did to any of those bastards in Alpha whatever house. I should have felt the power of another conquest. Instead, as I crawled under the covers, I felt the hunger for more. Stan wasn’t enough. I wasn’t done. Others hurt Sums too, not just Stan. And I would get even with every last one of them, even if I had to rape the entire Alpha whatever house in the process.

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Originally just planned on having one or both of them watch Alex work Stan over, but then as I wrote it I realized Alex would feel a little uncomfortable getting in the nude for friends she wasn't romantically involved with. Having it snowball into a little off screen CNC lesbian action in a closet added a nice touch to it. Danielle and Violet did do a few things with each other, but after a little while they couldn't ignore Alex as she worked Stan over. And as you can tell, it's got them spooked.

[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: Nosex, story
Content Warnings: Descriptions of rape and the aftermath of it.
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Sums gets the courage to report her assault to campus police and wants Alex to go with her.

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Chapter 27 The Face of Courage

I woke Saturday morning to the soft sound of rustling fabric. I blinked away the heaviness from my eyes and saw a silhouette perched on the edge of Sums' bed. It took me a moment to realize it was Sums herself. She was fully dressed and in a hoodie. I sat up in bed. “Alex,” she said with a voice croak from not being used much. “What do you need?” I asked. “Come with me,” she timidly said. “Help me report what…” she paused for a few moments “…happened.”

I blinked away the sleep fog, unsure I heard her correctly. Was I dreaming? There was one way to find out. I picked up my phone and called Sums on it. Sums looked at her phone, then looked at me in confusion. “Sorry,” I said. “Had to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Most people don’t realize this but,” Sums’ eyes lit up, the first spark of life that I had seen in her in a while “your phone doesn’t work right in your dreams,” she finished. The spark vanished, replaced with a hollowness that I knew all too well. “Yeah, if the roles were reversed I would have double checked too,” she sadly said. “Yes, I’ll help you report this,” I said. “Let me go pee and get dressed first.”

As we stepped outside, the first drops of rain began to fall from a dark sky. “We should hurry,” I said, placing a hand lightly on her back to guide her forward. She flinched away. “Sorry,” I said and withdrew my hand. The rain intensified as we walked, soaking through my sweatshirt and plastering my hair to my head. Sums hunched deeper into her hoodie. We didn't speak as we made our way across campus. What was there to say? She was marching toward a moment of painful truth, and I was drowning in my own lies.

I thought about Daniel's panic attack when I whispered to him, about Mark curled in the fetal position, about Jason passed out on a couch, about Stan's tears as I violated him. Had any of them reported what happened? Would they make the connection if Sums' report led to increased attention on sexual assaults? The thought made my stomach clench with anxiety, but as I glanced at Sums' determined profile, I felt admiration. She was the face of courage fighting her demons, while I had let mine transform me into something monstrous.

The rain created a strange privacy around us as we walked. Most students were still asleep at this hour on a Saturday morning, their dorm windows dark and shuttered against the gray dawn. Those few who were awake hurried with heads down against the downpour, too focused on their own discomfort to notice us. Water splashed beneath our shoes, forming dark mirrors that reflected the bruised sky above. I watched Sums from the corner of my eye as she navigated the slick sidewalk, her body rigid with purpose despite the occasional tremor in her hands.

What if her report triggered a wider investigation? What if campus security increased? What if they started connecting patterns between assaults? What if they started looking for a female assailant? I could end up exposed. Arrested. Imprisoned. My future destroyed. My family's shame complete. As far as I knew, none of my victims had reported what I'd done to them. Not Daniel, who'd had a panic attack at the mere suggestion I knew a secret. Not Mark, whose assault had been misinterpreted as drunken self gratification. Not Jason, who probably didn't even remember what happened. And now, probably not Stan, who would be too ashamed or afraid of ridicule to admit a woman had forced herself on him. Yet here was Sums, pushing through her terror to make sure Stan faced consequences.

Sums stopped so abruptly as we reached the campus police station I nearly collided with her. Her entire body seemed to seize, breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. She was about to have a panic attack. “Hey,” I said, “I’ve got you.” I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and this time she didn’t flinch away “What if they don't believe me?” Her voice was barely audible above the rain. “What if they say it's my fault for drinking? What if…” “You don't have to do this,” I said, and I meant it. Part of me hoped she would turn back. “We can go back to the dorm. You can report it another day.”

She turned to look at me, rain streaming down her face, indistinguishable from tears. For a long moment, she said nothing, her eyes searching mine as though looking for something she desperately needed to find. Then she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and said, “No. I'm doing this now. What if…it…happened to someone else last night?” I didn’t dare tell her it did indeed happen. “It can’t happen to someone else. I won’t let it happen to someone else.” She bravely trudged along into the building and I wordlessly followed.

“Can I help you?” an officer at the front asked, her voice professionally pleasant. Sums nodded, “I need to report a sexual assault,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but in the quiet reception area, it seemed to echo. The officer's face softened almost imperceptibly. “Of course,” she said, reaching for a clipboard with forms attached. “Please have a seat and fill these out. Someone will be with you shortly.”

I watched Sums’ face cycle through emotions as she worked her way down the form. Fear when she reached the section asking for details of the incident. Shame when she checked boxes describing the nature of the assault. Determination when she wrote Stan's full name as the perpetrator. Her handwriting grew smaller and shakier the further down she went. By the time she reached the bottom, her signature was barely legible. On the next form, where she had to list witnesses or others with knowledge of the incident, she wrote my name. My heart skipped a beat seeing it there in black ink. Permanent. Official. Connected to an assault investigation. I swallowed hard and forced my breathing to remain even.

A clock on the wall ticked loudly, marking each second we sat in those uncomfortable chairs. Eight minutes. Twelve. Seventeen. Finally, the door to an inner office opened, and a woman in a detective's uniform emerged. She was in her mid thirties, Hispanic, with dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, her expression professional but not unkind. “Summer Phillips?” she called. Sums stood up, the clipboard clutched against her chest like a shield. “That's me.”

“I'm Officer Martinez,” the woman said, extending her hand. Sums hesitated a fraction of a second before taking it. “I understand you're here to report an assault. Would you like your friend to join us?” She glanced at me questioningly. “Yes, please,” Sums said, her voice small but determined. Officer Martinez nodded and gestured for us to follow her down a short hallway. She led us into a small room with a table, four chairs, and a camera mounted in the corner. A recording device sat in the center of the table, its red light currently unlit. The walls were a neutral beige, probably chosen to be calming but instead feeling oppressively bland. There were no windows.

As we sat down, I noticed Sums' breathing becoming shallow and rapid. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. Officer Martinez seemed to notice too. “Take your time,” she said gently. “We'll go at your pace. Would you like some water?” Sums nodded, and Officer Martinez stepped out briefly, returning with two paper cups of water. She set them in front of us, then took a seat across the table. “I'm going to record our conversation, if that's okay with you,” she explained, gesturing to the device. “This helps ensure we capture all the details accurately. You can stop at any time if you need a break.” Sums nodded again, her eyes fixed on the recorder. My heart pounded in my chest. I was going to be recorded too.

“Before we start, I want you to know that what happened to you isn't your fault,” Officer Martinez continued. “No matter what the circumstances were. My job is to gather information so we can take appropriate action.” She pressed a button, and the device's red light blinked on. She stated the date, time, and names of everyone present, then turned to Sums. “In your own words, can you tell me what happened?” she asked.

Sums took a deep, shaky breath. When she began speaking, her voice was almost mechanical, as if she'd rehearsed the words so many times in her head they'd lost their emotional weight. “Last Saturday night, I went to a party with my boyfriend, Stan Wilson. I had one drink that he gave me, and then everything gets... fuzzy.” Her voice caught. “I remember feeling really dizzy, like the room was tilting. Stan helped me upstairs, and I thought he was taking me somewhere to lie down.” She paused, taking a sip of water with a trembling hand. Some of it sloshed over the rim onto her fingers.

“The next clear memory I have is waking up in a bedroom I didn't recognize. Stan was there, and...some of his friends. I don’t know how many. They were...” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks and she let out choked sobs. “Take your time,” Officer Martinez said “there’s no rush.” She pushed a box of tissues across the table. Sums took a few. Then after a ragged breath, and through tears, said “They…were…taking…turns…with…me…I…couldn't…move…but…I…could…feel…everything…hands…touching…me…and…a…p…p….pen…penis…inside…me…” She couldn’t continue and started sobbing uncontrollably. I placed my hand on her back and rubbed it gently.

My stomach churned violently as her words painted vivid pictures in my mind. I'd seen Stan crying beneath me, felt his futile attempts to push me away. I'd watched Mark curl into a fetal position on the grass. I'd left Jason unconscious and exposed. I'd enjoyed their vulnerability, their helplessness. Just like Stan and his friends had enjoyed Sums'. The realization hit me with physical force, a wave of nausea so strong I had to swallow repeatedly to keep from gagging. Was I really just like them? The monster inside me twisted uncomfortably, refusing to accept the comparison. No, I told myself. It's different. I didn't drug anyone. I didn't do it with a group of friends. I didn't brag about it afterward. But was it really that different? I had still taken what wasn't freely given.

Sums managed to pull herself together after a few agonizing minutes of nonstop crying. “I remember one of them had his phone out,” Sums continued, her voice hollow now. “I think they were recording it. They were laughing. Saying things about me. About my body.” Officer Martinez's professional mask slipped for just a moment, a flash of genuine anger crossing her features before she composed herself again. She made notes on a pad in front of her, her handwriting quick and precise.

“I must have passed out again,” Sums said with a sniff. She rubbed her eyes, which were bloodshot from the tears. “Because the next thing I remember is cold water hitting my skin. Someone was spraying me with something. A shower head or a hose, maybe. One of them said, ‘Clean her up. Can't have any…evidence.’” Her voice broke on the last word, and she pressed her fist against her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. I placed my hand on her back again. She was so thin, so fragile. How could anyone want to hurt her? The hypocrisy of my own thought struck me like a slap. I'd hurt people too. I'd justified it. I'd enjoyed it. “Take your time,” Officer Martinez repeated softly,

“I realized I was outside,” her voice sounded haunted. “My clothes were wet beside me and no one was around. I managed to get dressed somehow.” She was talking fast, now that the worst part of the story was over. “I walked back to my dorm. I don't remember much of the walk. I just, I couldn't believe it had happened. It felt like a nightmare.” Sums visibly slumped. I could tell she was emotionally drained. “Did you tell anyone afterward?” Officer Martinez asked. “Just Alex,” Sums said, glancing at me. “I...I was too ashamed to tell anyone else.”

Shame. I knew that was why Daniel and the others hadn't reported me. Why Stan probably wouldn't either. The shame of victimhood was a powerful silencer and one I had counted on to protect me. Officer Martinez turned toward me. “Did Summer tell you about the assault immediately afterward?” I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. "She came back to our dorm early Sunday morning. She was soaking wet and crying. She could barely talk at first, but she told me what happened.”

The officer looked at me in the eyes and I felt my mask slip for just a moment, long enough to see a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “What was her condition when you saw her?” she asked. I swallowed hard and told myself not to panic. She’s not interrogating me for something I did, but for something someone else did. “She was completely devastated and traumatized. She's barely left her bed all week. This is the first time she's really been out of the room aside from going to the restroom.” Officer Martinez started at me intently for a few moments after making a few notes.

“Were you at the party too, Alex?” I nodded, “Yes, I didn’t go with Sums though. She went with Stan. When I arrived Stan and Sums both waved at me.” Sums nodded “I remember that part. You were mingling well, but then after a while I didn’t see you.” “Yes,” I said, “I got tired and decided to leave early.” Officer Martinez’ piercing gaze softened to my immense relief. She was right to be suspicious of me, but not in this particular situation. “You're doing great,” the officer said to Sums. “Can you tell me if you've had any contact with Stan or the others since the assault?”

Sums shook her head. “No. I ignored his texts. Blocked his number eventually.” Officer Martinez continued to question Sums for a little while longer. She asked probing questions about about the room, descriptions of the other men, and the timeline of events. Through it all, I sat beside Sums, outwardly supportive while inwardly grappling with my own guilt and fear. Every question the officer asked about Stan and the others could just as easily have been asked about me. Every tear Sums shed could have been shed by one of my victims. The monster inside me, the part that had laughed with glee at the thought of raping again, was unusually quiet. Did this experience of seeing the aftermath of a rape victim tame the monster within?

Officer Martinez clicked off the recorder, the small red light fading to black. Sums sat beside me, exhausted from the emotional toll of reliving her trauma. Her face was pale, eyes rimmed with red, but there was something different in her posture now. It was as if naming the horror aloud had transferred some of its weight from her shoulders to the official record. Officer Martinez regarded us both with a careful expression that was neither pitying nor doubtful, but something more nuanced. Professional compassion, maybe. She folded her hands on the table and leaned forward slightly.

“Summer, I want to thank you for your courage in coming forward," she said. "I know that wasn't easy.” Sums nodded, her hands twisted together in her lap. “I need you to know that the university has adopted a zero-tolerance policy for sexual assault,” Officer Martinez continued. “Especially following the Cook Creek incident. The administration has been under significant pressure to address these issues more aggressively.”

My pulse quickened. A zero tolerance policy. Increased scrutiny. The predator inside me shrunk back from the implications, while the part of me that cared about Sums felt a surge of vindication. “What happens now?” Sums asked, her voice hoarse from talking. “With your permission, I'm going to call the Dean of Students right now,” Officer Martinez said. “In cases like this, we can implement an immediate temporary suspension while the investigation proceeds.”

Sums' eyes widened. “Even though it's Saturday?” Officer Martinez nodded. “The administration has a protocol for these situations. Time is often critical in gathering evidence and preventing further incidents.” She paused. “Would you like me to make that call now?” “Yes,” Sums said without hesitation. Officer Martinez picked up the phone on the table and dialed a number. She spoke briefly into the phone, her words crisp and professional. I couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but Officer Martinez's face remained impassive as she provided a snapshot of the allegations. After a few minutes, she thanked the person and hung up.

“The Dean is implementing an immediate suspension,” she informed us. “Stan Wilson will be prohibited from entering campus buildings or attending classes pending a full investigation. They'll be contacting him within the hour.” Sums' breath caught. “Just like that?” “Just like that,” she confirmed. “The university is taking these matters very seriously now. There will be a formal investigation, and you'll be called in for further interviews, but this immediate action helps ensure your safety on campus.”

“What about the others?” I asked before I could stop myself. “The friends who were involved?” Officer Martinez asked “Do either of you know their names?” Sums shook her head. “I don’t know who was there in the room exactly, but I was in a group chat with some of Stan’s friends.” “That's enough to start with,” the officer assured her. “Give me the names of those in the group chat and we’ll see if they know any information.”

After Sums gave her the names of the people in the group chat, the officer reached into a drawer and pulled out several pamphlets, placing them in front of Sums. “These are resources for counseling services, both on and off campus. This one explains the investigation process, and this has information about restraining orders, though the university suspension already restricts his access to you.” She wrote on a card and handed it over. “And this is your case number and my direct line. Call me anytime if you have questions or remember additional details.”

Sums took the materials with trembling hands, staring at them as if they were artifacts from another world. I could see her struggling to process that her nightmare was being taken seriously, that official mechanisms were in motion. “Are you okay to go back to your dorm?” Officer Martinez asked gently. “Or would you prefer we arrange temporary alternative housing?”

Sums glanced at me. “I want to go back to our room. Alex has been...” She swallowed hard.
“She's been helping me through this.” A knife of guilt twisted in my gut. While I had physically been present for Sums, much of my mental energy had been consumed by planning revenge, not healing. I'd used her trauma to justify my own monstrous desires.

“Ok, I have everything I need for now,” Officer Martinez said, “The days ahead won’t be easy, you’ll likely have to have a few more interviews,” she warned. “But for now, go rest and we’ll contact you if we need anything else.”

As we left the building back into the outside world, I was surprised to find the rain had stopped. The pavement was still slick with puddles, but the heavy downpour had given way to a sullen stillness. Dark clouds hung low overhead, neither advancing nor retreating, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. “They believed me,” Sums whispered, her voice lighter with a hint of hope. “They actually believed me.”

I glanced at Sums' profile as we walked back to our dorm. Her face was still tear stained, but there was a determination in her jaw that hadn't been there before. She had faced her monsters and survived. She had spoken her truth and been heard. Meanwhile, I walked beside her, a monster masquerading as a friend. I had assaulted four men, including the one who had assaulted her. I had reveled in their fear, their helplessness, their tears just as Stan and his friends had reveled in Sums'.

The contradictions within me were impossible to reconcile. I genuinely cared for Sums, wanted her to heal, admired her courage. Yet I was guilty of the same crime that had broken her. I had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, become someone I could never unmake. As we approached our dorm building, the clouds overhead began to shift, allowing a thin blade of sunlight to slice through the gray. It illuminated a small patch of wet grass, making it gleam like polished emerald. Beauty emerging from the aftermath of the storm. But for me the storm wasn’t over, and I wondered if any part of me would ever be beautiful.
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[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: Nosex, story
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The fallout of Stan's suspension.

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Chapter 28 Fallout

Sundays were usually quieter than other days on campus. The weekend was winding down and people would generally plow through hangovers to get their college coursework done that they had put off. But the next day everyone was talking about Stans suspension. The news had spread like wildfire.

Just outside the student union, a group of Alpha whatever were talking about it. I sat on a nearby bench, pretending to scroll through my phone as I eavesdropped without looking like I was listening. One of them, a guy with a baseball cap, gestured wildly as he spoke. “Bro Stan’s gotta be lying to save his ass. He claims he was raped by some chick?” He guffawed then asked, “Seriously?” “He's desperate, man,” another guy with a maroon shirt said. “Grasping at straws to save his ass.” A third guy with an orange shirt howled with laughter. “The CUNT Rapist strikes again!” He made crude grabbing gestures with his hands. “Watch out, bros, she'll climb on top of you while you're passed out drunk!” Laughter burst out of all their lips.

I couldn’t hide my smile as I pretended to scroll through my phone. My plan that no one would take Stan seriously had worked. “Maybe she's real hot,” Maroon Shirt suggested with a leer. “Like, I'd let her rape me anytime.” Orange Shirt shook his head “Dude, no way. Stan said she was a fat chick. Like, super huge. Couldn’t tell who it was just that she was fat as fuck.” I was hardly the only large woman on campus, so I felt safe in that regard since it didn’t seem like Stan recognized it was me. But what about Danielle and Violet? They knew about it, would they be able to keep the secret?

“That's why nobody believes him," Baseball Cap replied. “Like, who'd believe a chick, especially a fat one, could overpower a guy like Stan? The dude's ripped.” Baseball Cap did a muscle man pose in what was probably an imitation of Stan. “He was drunk as shit that night though,” Maroon Shirt pointed out. “Even drunk, no way.” Baseball Cap shook his head. “Besides, have you ever heard of a chick rapist outside of like, female teachers banging their students? It's not physically possible. Guys are always down to fuck.” He laughed.

“Stan's just embarrassed he got caught,” a guy in a blue hoodie chimed in. “Trying to flip the script and make himself the victim.” Baseball Cap doubled over, wheezing with laughter. “What a dumb as shit way to try and flip the script.” He kept on laughing and a few of the guys joined in with them. ““The CUNT Rapist. I can't even with that shit. It's like some campus urban legend.”

Urban legend. The phrase echoed in my head as a strange, twisted pride unfurled in my chest. They were talking about me and they had no idea I was sitting among them, listening to every word. The monster inside me preened at the notoriety, at being something people whispered about in the dark. At being feared, even if only as an abstract concept, a bogeyman. No, a bogeywoman.

“What’s so fucking FUNNY?” The voice made everyone jump, even me. I hadn’t seen Sums approach. Baseball Cap turned, surprise flickering across his face before settling into an uncomfortable smirk. “Just joking around. No big deal.” “Sexual assault isn't a fucking joke!” Sums shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. The raw pain in her words made several students turn to stare. “If there really is a woman out there attacking people, she needs to be caught and punished just like Stan!”

The color drained from my face so quickly I felt lightheaded. I couldn't even raise my hand to wipe away the cold sweat that had broken out across my forehead. What the hell? She was sticking up for Stan who hurt her? And she said the woman needed to be punished just like him. “Whoa, chill,” Blue Hoodie said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Nobody's saying assault is okay. We just don't think Stan's telling the truth.”

“Why?” Sums challenged, her fists clenched at her sides. “Because he's a man? Because you think men can't be victims? Because you've got some toxic bullshit idea that guys always want sex?” Her voice rose with each question, trembling with barely contained rage. “Let me tell you something. Rape isn't about sex. It's about power. It's about taking someone's control away from them, making them feel small and helpless and used. And it doesn't matter if the victim is male or female. It's equally fucked up either way.”

Each word was a blade sliding between my ribs. My vision narrowed to a pinpoint, the edges darkening as if I might pass out. I'd told myself what I did to Stan was justice. Retribution. All for the sake of Sums. I'd convinced myself it was different from what he'd done to Sums. But here she was, my broken, beautiful friend, saying it was the same. Exactly the same. What the hell did I become?

“And if there really is some...some…some...predator out there,” Sums continued, tears now forming in her eyes, “some woman who thinks it's okay to violate people, then she's no better than Stan. No better than any rapist. She deserves the same punishment, the same disgust, the same consequences.” My body went rigid. No better than Stan. No better than any rapist. The monster inside me howled in protest, clawing at my insides, desperate to defend itself. But Sums' words cut through those rationalizations like a hot knife through butter. I'd become the very thing I hated. The very thing that had destroyed my friend.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for a few moments. A few people were heading this way, probably to see what the commotion was about. Someone had their phone out and looked like they were recording. “You don't know what the fuck you're talking about,” Baseball Cap muttered, but the bravado had drained from his voice. His eyes darted around, gauging the reaction of the crowd that had formed. “I know exactly what I'm talking about,” Sums replied, her voice dropping to a deadly calm. “I know what it's like to wake up violated, to have your body used against your will. I know what it's like to have people not believe you, to laugh at your trauma. And I would never, ever wish that on anyone, not even Stan.”

A cold realization dawned on me. Sums had been raped before and no one believed her. That’s why she was so happy after we went to campus police. It’s why she only told me and didn’t say anything to anyone else. Some of the students in the growing circle looked ashamed, their gazes dropping to the ground. Others shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to be anywhere else. A few rolled their eyes, already turning away to find more entertaining drama elsewhere.

“Whatever,” Baseball Cap finally said, hands in a gesture of surrender. “Let’s go guys, this chick is crazy.” Orange Shirt piped up, “She’s got a point though man, Stan’s too macho to try and get out of trouble that way.” He turned to Sums, “I wasn't near you or Stan, but in the basement at the party. Even though I wasn't there I still want to apologize because I’m part of that house. It shouldn’t have ever happened to you there. I’m sorry.” He spoke quickly, the words falling out of his mouth like an avalanche. “Thank you,” Sums said in a whisper. “Literally shouldn’t have happened,” Maroon Shirt chimed in “Jason was supposed to keep watch, instead bro got drunk and passed out near apartments.”

My stomach dropped and it felt like my heart skipped a few beats. Jason was the designated one to be sober that night. A horrific realization dawned on me that Jason wasn’t really slurring his words when I walked up to him. It just sounded that way because of the music. Violet’s words from the other day echoed in my head “The bartender knows who the lookout is and will only give the lookout non alcoholic. If I get the drink and don’t tell him it’s for the lookout, or don’t tell him non alcoholic, then the bartender won’t think twice about it.” A few people were still talking, but I no longer paid any attention.

Jason’s words after I had given him a drink then flew through my mind. “Suppo ta remember sonthing. Needa lookie looo fer adding dayskin underug. Ferget da lezgo Violet.” “My God,” I found myself whispering, “It’s all my fault.” If I hadn’t given Jason a drink and assaulted him, he would have seen the funny business and put a stop to it before it got out of hand. Maybe Stan didn’t even know Sums’ drink was spiked. Why would he spike it when Jason would have noticed Sums acting weird and put a stop to it? The thoughts raced through my head. I felt everything and nothing.

“Alex, ALEX!” Sums was gently but frantically pushing against my arm. Sums, it was my fault that she got...that she got... “Alex what’s wrong,” she said with rising panic in her voice and worry in her eyes. Breathing, I was breathing heavily, but a the same time I couldn’t breathe. My fault. All my fault. Those were the last thoughts I had before I slipped into unconsciousness.
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Don't worry folks, Alex will be fine. She just had her first panic attack and will be back on her feet momentarily. These last few chapters were not easy to write and delve into the character's emotions. This story has become more intense than I initially planned for it to be, so it seemed natural to have Alex become so overwhelmed when she realizes her actions inadvertently caused Sums to be raped.

I'm curious to know if these last few chapters were intense for the readers. Because it was really intense to write.

[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: Nosex, story
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Alex wakes up in the hospital and there is a surprise in store for her. A good one.

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Chapter 29 Hospitals

I drifted back to consciousness slowly, like swimming up through murky water. White ceiling tiles came into focus above me, harsh fluorescent lights burning into my retinas. The antiseptic smell hit me next, that unmistakable hospital scent that clings to your nostrils and coats your tongue. Ugh, hospitals. What the hell happened? My thoughts were foggy, struggling to arrange themselves into any coherent order as I realized I was wearing a paper thin hospital gown that crinkled with every slight movement. I felt exposed, vulnerable. Dangerous.

“Alex?” Sums' voice came from beside me, tense with worry. I turned my head to see her perched on a plastic chair, her face drawn and pale. Dark circles ringed her eyes, making them look huge in her thin face. “Thank god you're awake. You really scared me.” “What happened?” I croaked, my throat sandpaper dry. The last thing I remembered was standing outside the student union, listening to those Alpha whatever guys talking about Stan, and then Sums confronting them, and then…oh god. It all came flooding back. Jason. The designated watchman. The one who was supposed to stay sober. The one I'd drugged and raped just hours before Sums was attacked. My fault. It was all my fault.

My heart monitor started beeping faster, the digital readout climbing as my pulse raced. Sums reached for my hand, her cool fingers wrapping around mine. “You had some kind of attack,” she explained with a gentle voice. “While sitting on a bench you just went rigid and started hyperventilating. Then you passed out.” I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. “How long have I been out?” Sums checked her phone. “It’s Monday morning.”

The door opened with a soft whoosh, and a middle aged dark skinned man in a white coat entered, clipboard in hand. His face had the worn look of someone who'd been awake far too long. “I'm Dr. Karim. How are you feeling?” “Like shit,” I admitted. My head throbbed dully, and my limbs felt heavy, disconnected from my body. He nodded, unsurprised. “That's to be expected. And who is this?” He gestured toward Sums.

“My best friend and college roommate,” I said, the words sticking in my throat. Best friend. The phrase mocked me, knowing what I'd done. What I'd caused. “Summer Phillips.” Sums gave a small wave but stayed silent, her eyes darting between the doctor and me. “Are you ok with her in the room while we discuss your medical care?” I nodded. “Yes.” “Well Ms. Turner,” he said in an almost robotic voice, “it seems you had a panic attack. Have you ever had one before?” I shook my head. “Symptoms typically include rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, dizziness, trembling, and in severe cases like yours, fainting,” he explained, his tone clinical. “They can be quite frightening, and it is a concern when it’s your first one, but they're generally not physically dangerous. Your blood tests and vitals look normal, which rules out other potential causes.”

My hands trembled slightly as I pulled at the thin blanket covering me, trying to feel less exposed in the flimsy gown. The IV port in my arm ached when I moved. “What causes them?” I asked, already knowing the answer in my case. Guilt. Horror. The realization that I'd indirectly caused my best friend's rape. “Stress, trauma, life changes,” Dr. Karim listed. “Have you been under a lot of stress recently?” You have no fucking idea, I thought. Instead of saying what I thought, I nodded. “Yeah, freshman in college and all that. First time away from home.”

Dr. Karim nodded, “Then what happened to you while unusual is expected. The important thing moving forward is to identify what triggers these episodes and develop coping strategies,” he continued. “I'm going to prescribe a mild anti-anxiety medication that you can take if you feel another attack coming on. And I'd strongly recommend speaking with a counselor at your university's Student Wellness Center.” Sums gave me a look that silently said I had better go back to the wellness center. I nodded at her, unwilling to argue.

“We'll keep you under observation for a few more hours, but you should be able to go home tonight, assuming everything remains stable,” Dr. Karim said. “Try to rest. Your body's been through a shock.” He gave a professional nod and left the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him. As soon as he was gone, I let out a shaky breath. The hospital room felt both too small and too large simultaneously. The walls seemed to pulse slightly, like they were breathing. I focused on the steady drip of the IV, trying to ground myself.

“I was so scared,” Sums whispered, still holding my hand. “You just...slumped. Your eyes rolled back and everything.” “I'm sorry,” I said, the words inadequate for all the things I was actually sorry for. “Don't apologize.” She squeezed my fingers. “I shouldn't have made such a scene. The doctor said stress might have triggered it, and I know you've been taking care of me all week and…” “Stop,” I interrupted. “This isn't your fault. I think I just got overwhelmed.”

My heart was finally slowing to a more normal rhythm, but the dizziness lingered, making the room tilt slightly when I moved my head too quickly. I was acutely aware of everything that touched me from the scratchy hospital gown against my skin, to the cold plastic of the ID bracelet around my wrist, and to the dull throb where the needle entered my vein.

“Do you need anything?” Sums asked, her eyes wide with concern. “Water? Another blanket?” I shook my head, then immediately regretted the motion as the room swam around me. “I'm okay,” I lied. My hand trembled as I reached for the plastic cup of water on the side table. Sums quickly grabbed it for me, holding it to my lips. The role reversal wasn't lost on me. After days of caring for her, she was now caring for me. But she didn't know what kind of monster she was helping. Would she still be here, holding my hand, concern etched across her face if she knew the truth?

I sipped the water, letting its coolness slide down my throat. My fingers still shook slightly as Sums placed the cup back on the table. We sat in silence for a little while before the hospital room door swung open. Danielle poked her head in first, her eyes wide with concern. Behind her, hovering awkwardly like he wasn't sure he belonged, was Tom. My stomach did a strange little flip at the sight of him. This was the same Tom who'd rejected me at that first party, the same Tom who'd later started dating Danielle. He wore a gray hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and clutched a small bunch of yellow flowers that looked like they'd been hastily purchased from the hospital gift shop. He stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes darting between me and the medical equipment surrounding my bed, as if the sight of me hooked up to machines had frozen his brain.

“Hey,” Danielle said softly, stepping fully into the room. “We heard what happened. Are you okay?” “I'm fine,” I said automatically. “Just a panic attack, apparently.” Tom finally moved, taking a few hesitant steps into the room. He extended the flowers toward me, then seemed to realize I couldn't easily take them with the IV in my arm. “I'll put these in water,” Sums offered, taking the flowers from Tom. She smiled at him warmly, then at Danielle, before disappearing into the small bathroom attached to my room.

Danielle moved to stand at the foot of my bed, her fingers fidgeting with the metal rail. “You really scared everyone. It's all over campus that you collapsed right after Sums’ explosive spectacle.” “Oh joy," I muttered. “I wasn't nearby,” Tom said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I heard about it later. Danielle called me.”

I felt my face crumple in confusion. Why would Danielle call Tom? Before I could ask, Tom answered the question in my head for me. “Look, I know this is probably terrible timing,” he began, “but I've been wanting to talk to you for a while, and hearing about you going to the hospital kind of puts things in perspective, you know?” I didn't know, but I nodded anyway, confusion temporarily overriding my guilt and self loathing.

“The truth is,” Tom continued, “I've been an idiot.” He glanced at Danielle, who gave him an encouraging nod. “That night at the party, when you asked for my number... I panicked. I wasn't used to someone being so forward. And then I made up that stupid excuse about my roommate.” His cheeks flushed red. “I didn't have anyone. I was just... intimidated.”

I stared at him, unsure if I was hallucinating. Was this really happening? After everything that happened? After my descent into predatory behavior? After assaulting multiple men? After indirectly causing Sums' rape? Was Tom seriously confessing that he'd had feelings for me all along? “I kept seeing you around campus,” Tom continued, apparently taking my silence as encouragement. “And I wanted to apologize, to explain, but I didn't know how. Then Danielle and I started hanging out, and...” He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

“I was the one who asked Tom out,” Danielle chimed in. Her eyes looked tired, but her voice was steady. “But it became obvious pretty quickly that we didn't have much of a romantic connection. And he kept talking about you.” Sums returned with the flowers in a plastic water pitcher, setting them on the small table beside my bed. Her eyes darted between Tom and me, picking up on the tension in the room. “What's going on?” she asked.

“Tom was just explaining that he's had feelings for Alex this whole time,” Danielle said, a small smile playing at her lips despite the awkwardness of the situation. Sums' face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. She clasped her hands together, excitement radiating from her like heat. “Oh my god! That's amazing!” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, beaming. “This is what you wanted!” She glanced to Danielle and had an apologetic look on her face. “Oh, it’s not so great for you is it?”

Danielle shook her head, “Don’t worry about me, I’m ok. Really. Tom and I are better as friends than as a couple. I’m sure someone will come around soon to sweep me off my feet,” she giggled at the last part and Tom smiled, like it was some kind of inside joke between them. Tom cleared his throat. “I know it's a lot to take in,” he said. "And I understand if you're not interested anymore. I just...after hearing you were in the hospital, I couldn't not tell you.”

My gaze drifted to the window, where the evening sky was turning a deep blue. What was I supposed to say? That I'd spent weeks obsessing over his rejection, allowing it to feed my growing darkness? That I'd channeled my hurt into violence against others? That the monster inside me had consumed so much of who I once was that I wasn't sure I could even feel normal attraction anymore? “Alex?” Sums prompted, her smile faltering slightly at my silence.

I snapped my attention back to the room, plastering on another fake smile. “Sorry, still a bit foggy from what happened,” I lied. “I'm just...surprised. In a good way.” Tom's relieved exhale was audible. “I know this is probably the last thing on your mind right now, with everything that's happening. But maybe when you're feeling better, we could get coffee or something?” “Yeah,” I said, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. “I'd like that.”

Sums was practically vibrating with excitement beside me. Her joy was so pure, so genuine, it made my chest ache. She deserved a friend who could share in that joy, not someone who had indirectly caused her worst trauma. “I told him you'd say yes,” Danielle said with a small laugh. She perched on the edge of my bed, careful to avoid my legs. “I've never seen someone pine so obviously.” “I wasn't pining,” Tom protested, but his blush deepened. “You absolutely were,” Danielle insisted. “Every time we went anywhere, you'd scan the room looking for her. It was painful to watch.”

Their banter continued, but I found myself drifting, my responses becoming automatic. Yes, I was feeling better. No, they didn't need to bring me anything. Yes, I'd probably be discharged tonight. My gaze kept returning to the window, to the darkening sky beyond the glass. Inside, I felt hollow, a carved-out space where satisfaction should have been. Tom was watching me with a mixture of concern and affection that made my skin crawl. Not because he was repulsive, but because I knew I didn't deserve it. Because the girl he thought he was developing feelings for no longer existed. She'd been consumed by something darker, something hungry.

“You look tired,” Danielle observed, interrupting my thoughts. “We should probably let you rest.” I nodded, grateful for the excuse. My hands were still trembling slightly, though I wasn't sure if it was from the lingering effects of the panic attack or the surreal nature of this conversation. “I'll text you later?” Tom asked, the statement lifting into a question at the end. “Sure,” I replied, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears.

They all stood up. I noticed Sums exchange a glance with Danielle, something wordless passed between them. Was it concern? Suspicion? I couldn't tell, and the not knowing made my heart rate tick up slightly. “Feel better,” Tom said, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for mine but thought better of it. “Thanks for the flowers,” I replied. “I'll walk you guys out,” Sums offered, following them to the doorway. She exchanged a few quiet words with them that I couldn't hear, then returned to my bedside as their footsteps faded down the hallway.

Instead of sitting back down, she stood beside my bed, arms crossed over her chest, studying my face with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. “What?” I asked, trying to sound normal. “You tell me,” she replied. “That was Tom Reeves practically declaring his undying love for you, and you looked like you were at a funeral.” I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. “I'm just tired. And this isn't exactly the romantic setting I'd imagined for that conversation.”

Sums tilted her head, unconvinced. “It's more than that. You've been...different. Not just today, but for weeks now.” She sat down on the edge of my bed, close enough that I could see the whites of her eyes. “At first I thought it was because you were taking care of me after...after what happened. But it started before that, didn't it?” My throat tightened with panic. Had she noticed something? Had I been too careless? “What do you mean?”

“I don't know exactly,” she admitted. “You just seem...distant sometimes. Like you're physically there but your mind is somewhere else entirely.” She took my hand, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “And sometimes, the way you look at people...it's intense. Almost scary. Almost like you’re hunting them.” The monitor beside my bed betrayed my racing heart, the steady beep increasing in tempo. “I've just had a lot on my mind,” I said carefully.

Sums looked down at our joined hands, then back up at my face. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I mean, after what you did for me this week, listening to me, helping me report Stan...I just want you to know I'm here for you too. Whatever it is.” The irony nearly choked me. She was offering to be there for me, to help me through whatever darkness I was battling, completely unaware that I was partially responsible for her trauma. That I had become the very thing she feared most.

“I know,” I whispered, unable to say more past the lump in my throat. Sums' eyes lingered on my face, searching for something. I could almost see the thoughts turning behind her eyes, trying to make sense of the disconnect she sensed in me. Finally, she nodded, seemingly making a decision. “Whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush.”

I wanted to desperately tell her what I had done. Wanted to tell her that I hurt people just like she had been hurt. But I didn’t. Even though she reassured me she was there for me, I was too terrified of losing her. Sure, she defended Stan under extreme circumstances but she wasn’t spending time with him anymore. What if I just stopped letting the monster take control? Could I do it? Could I go back to the way I was? I didn’t know for sure, but I was determined to try. Perhaps if I stopped hurting others everything I had done would just go away.

Discharge from the hospital was uneventful. It was near the end of the evening before they let me go. We took an uber back to campus, Sums paid for it, and we walked back to our dorm room. I still felt monumentally tired and crawled into bed. Sums gently reminded me she was there and that’s the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.
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[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: Nosex, story
Content Warnings: Discussion of bullying that lead up to lesbian rape in the past
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Alex hears people talking about the CUNT rapist and gets paranoid.

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Chapter 30 Rumors

Tuesday after classes felt like walking through a fog of paranoia. Every face that turned in my direction sent a jolt of fear through my body. Did they know? Could they see the monster that lived behind my eyes? I kept my head down as I trudged across campus, my backpack heavy on my shoulders, not just from textbooks but from the crushing guilt that threatened to snap my spine in half. Classes had been a blur of voices and faces that I couldn't focus on. All I could think about was Jason, drunk when he should have been sober. Stan, crying beneath me, and Sums, broken. I popped an anxiety pill in my mouth and swallowed with water from a drinking fountain. How long till one of these things worked?

The campus buzzed with normal activity, oblivious to the predator in their midst. Students lounged on the grass, backpacks scattered around them like islands. A frisbee sailed through the air, followed by laughing shouts. Everything looked so fucking normal, while inside I was crumbling. As I approached the student union, my steps faltered. A cluster of girls huddled near the entrance, heads bent together in conspiratorial closeness. Something about their posture made the hair on my neck stand up. Their voices carried on the breeze, not quite loud enough to make out the words but with a tone that suggested gossip. Salacious. Excited. Afraid. My instinct was to duck my head and hurry past, but a single phrase reached me, clear as a bell.

“I can't believe people are still talking about the CUNT rapist,” one girl said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She wore an oversized Cook College sweatshirt that swallowed her small frame. “It has to be made up.” Another girl with bright red lipstick that matched her flaming hair shook her head vehemently. “No way. It has to be real. That guy Stan? Someone said he was too macho to admit something like that just to get out of trouble.” She lowered her voice dramatically. “I hear he’s at someone’s house not even getting out of bed.”

My heart hammered against my ribs so violently I was certain everyone could hear it. “But how would a girl even do that,” a blonde girl with pink highlights asked, wrinkling her nose. “Like, physically?” Sweatshirt shrugged, “Drugs, blackmail, getting them drunk. You don’t have to have a six pack in order to do it.” Drugged. The word echoed in my skull. I hadn't drugged anyone, not directly. But I had given Jason alcohol when he was supposed to be sober. I might as well have slipped something into Sums' drink myself. My stomach lurched dangerously.

“I heard someone else from Alpha got raped weeks ago,” Lipstick continued. “Daniel something. He was your average normal jock then all of a sudden one day BAM,” she slapped her hands together, “suddenly he’s getting panic attacks for no apparent reason and missing classes. Then eventually says a large woman worked him over.” I shrank into myself, hunching my shoulders as if I could make my body disappear through sheer force of will. My size had always been a source of insecurity, but now it was evidence. A clue that could lead straight to me.

“Katie thinks it's bullshit,” Highlights commented, “but I don't know.” She shook her head, “Why would guys make that up? It's weird.” I couldn't stand still any longer. My skin felt too tight, like it might split open and reveal the monster beneath. I forced myself to walk past them, keeping my eyes glued to the ground. But their voices followed me, wrapping around my throat like ghostly fingers. “If it is really happening, that’s totally fucked up.”

Fucked up. That’s what I was. I quickened my pace, heart thrashing like a wild animal in my chest. Sweat beaded along my hairline despite the cool autumn air. How many people were talking about this? How long until someone connected the dots? How many victims before a pattern emerged that pointed straight at me? And when was this anxiety medication going to kick in?

My vision tunneled, darkness creeping in at the edges. No. Not again. I couldn't have another panic attack, not here in the open where everyone would see. I forced myself to breathe, counting the seconds like I had seen on a youtube video. Four in, hold for seven, eight out. My hands trembled, but my vision returned to normal. As I rounded the corner of the student union, I leaned against the brick wall, waiting for my heart to stop trying to escape my chest. Something had to change. I couldn't live like this, jumping at shadows, terrified of every whispered conversation.

Suddenly I saw Violet walking. Violet, she was smart. She’d know what to do. I willed my feet to move toward Violet. She turned down a narrow passage between buildings, temporarily out of sight from the main walkway. Perfect. No one would see us there. No one would hear what I was about to say. “Violet!” I hissed, quickening my pace. She turned, a flash of surprise crossing her face before her usual composed expression returned. “Oh, hey Alex. Glad you’re ok. What's wrong?”

I grabbed her arms before I realized I had done it. She let out a low squeak of surprise. “People are talking about Stan,” the words practically vomited out of my mouth “About a CUNT rapist. The things they’re saying are spreading.” Violet didn't struggle against my hold. Instead, she stared at me with an unnervingly steady gaze. “And?” I blinked. “What do you mean ‘and,’ what if someone figures out I did it to Stan, what if, what if, what if…”

My breath came in short, panicked bursts. The walls of the narrow passage seemed to close in, the brick scratching against my back as I pressed Violet harder against the opposite wall. A small voice in my head warned me I was overreacting, that I was drawing more attention to myself with this behavior, but I couldn't stop. The fear had taken hold, sinking its teeth into my rationality.

“Alex,” Violet said, her voice low and controlled, “take a deep breath through your nose.” I paused and did as she instructed. I felt my nostrils flare. “Good,” she said, “now breathe it out through your mouth.” Air whooshed out of my lungs and a little bit of saliva came out on her face. “Shit,” I cursed. “I’m sorry I…” “Alex,” Violet resumed, voice still calm and low. “Do it again, this time slower.” I did as she instructed, and found myself relaxing my grip on her.

“Good,” she said and gently broke out of my hold. “Now, keep breathing just like that,” she instructed. I did and as I took air in she spoke “All Stan’s saying is he was raped by a fat girl. That’s all anybody knows.” I started to protest, “But what if…” Violet gently grabbed my shoulders. “Don’t do this to yourself. What’s done is done and there’s nothing you can do about it. Nobody knows anything, nobody’s out to get you, you are safe.”

Something in her eyes shifted, a flash of calculation that made me wonder, not for the first time, just how much was going on behind Violet's perfectly made up facade. She'd surprised me before with her intelligence, her ability to see through situations, to manipulate them to her advantage. “But you and Danielle know about it,” I argued. “Yes, we do,” she conceded. “And if one of us gets in trouble we all get in trouble.” She glared at me intently but calmly “It would be very bad if Danielle got into trouble again.”

Right, Danielle had been an online bully in the past. She probably already had something on her record. Maybe more than just something. I felt myself start to relax, but then paranoia kicked back in. “But what if someone saw us take Stan out of the party, what if…” Footsteps echoed in the passage, growing louder. Someone was coming. My heart leaped into my throat.

Violet's hand shot out and covered my mouth. “Just act normal,” she hissed, her eyes suddenly intense. “When I take my hand away, laugh like I just told you something funny.” I forced a laugh that sounded hollow and strained even to my own ears. Violet smoothly linked her arm through mine, turning us both toward the approaching students as if we'd just been having a casual chat. Two guys in Cook College sweatshirts rounded the corner, deep in conversation. They barely glanced at us.

“Totally obsessed with that new Thai place,” Violet said loudly, her voice cheerfully bubbly and natural. “We should go there this weekend. The pad Thai is to die for.” My tongue felt swollen in my mouth. “Y-yeah,” I managed. “Sounds good.” The guys passed without incident, their conversation never pausing. I exhaled slowly, my heart still hammering against my ribs.

“Those guys will probably never remember we were here,” Violet whispered. “People see what they expect to see,” she lectured. “Blend in. Be what people expect you to be and no one will suspect anything.” The way she said it, so casually, made my stomach turn. When had this become my reality? “But the rumors,” I started to protest. “…are just that. Rumors.” Violet replied, then straightened her blouse where I'd grabbed her. “College campuses run on gossip,” she explained. “By next week, someone will do something to generate more gossip.” She smiled. “Trust me, it’s inevitable. Eventually all this will blow over as long as you play it cool.”

Violet's confidence should have reassured me. But something in her eyes, something calculating and cold, left me more unsettled than before. Could I really trust her? She seemed to read my mind, “You can trust me, Alex,” she said reassuringly. “Just remember to keep breathing slowly. I have to go now, I’ve got a date with my boyfriend.”

With that, she stepped around me and back into the sunlight, leaving me alone in the shadows. I leaned against the cool brick wall, trying to slow my breathing. Violet wasn’t going to tell anyone for Danielle’s sake. But what happened when being together became too risky? What happened when saving yourself meant sacrificing someone else? I had a feeling Violet knew exactly what she would do in that situation. And I wasn't sure I wanted to find out. Then, I had the scariest thought of all. What if Danielle told someone?

Need to talk, meet at your apartment right now? I sent a quick text to Danielle and she immediately texted K, just give me a few minutes.

***

In the apartment I paced the worn carpet, checking my phone every thirty seconds. Each minute that passed twisted my stomach tighter. What if she didn't come? What if she was already talking to someone about what we'd done? Finally, the door creaked open. Danielle slipped inside, her eyes darting around the empty room before landing on me. “Hey,” she said, her voice tentative. “Everything okay?”

I didn't waste time with pleasantries. “Have you told anyone?” The words shot out like bullets, too loud in the empty space. Danielle blinked, taken aback by my directness. “About...?” she asked, though we both knew exactly what I meant. “About Stan. About what we did.” My voice dropped to a harsh whisper despite the empty room. "Have you told anyone? Tom? Your parents? Some random friend from high school? Anyone?”

Her face paled slightly. She moved to the sagging couch and sat down, the cushions dipping beneath her weight. “Jesus, Alex. Of course not.” Her fingers began to fidget with the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric into tiny knots. “Why would you think that?” I remained standing, too wired to sit. “People are talking. About the CUNT rapist. About Stan. They're talking about other victims. It's spreading.”

“That's just gossip,” Danielle said, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine. Her fingers moved faster, worrying the fabric. “Campus rumors. You know how it is.” “That's exactly what Violet said.” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the roots until pain sparked across my scalp. “But gossip becomes investigation. Investigation becomes evidence. Evidence becomes prison sentences.” Danielle's head snapped up. “You talked to Violet about this?” Something flickered in her eyes. Fear? Jealousy? I couldn't tell.

“I cornered her after I overheard some girls talking.” I started pacing again, unable to stay still. "She was all cool and collected, like nothing could touch her. Like we hadn't committed a fucking crime.” Danielle softly replied, “we did it for a good reason.” I stopped pacing. “Was it a good reason? Or did we just tell ourselves that to feel better about what we did?” The question had been eating at me since my realization in the hospital. “We got him drunk. We took him somewhere he didn't want to go. We...” I couldn't finish the sentence.

“I would never tell anyone what happened,” Danielle said, her voice gaining strength. Her hands stilled in her lap. “Not just because it would implicate me too, but because...I understand why you did it. It’s the same reason I went along with it.” I sank onto the couch beside her, the springs groaning in protest. “What do you mean?”

She drew in a deep breath, as if preparing herself. “Remember when I told you about my online bullying phase? How I said it was like an addiction?” I nodded. “What I didn't tell you was why I started. My sister was bullied by a group of girls.” Anger and sadness flashed in her eyes. “They would do all kinds of things to her. Trip her, push her, play keep away, and stuff like that.” A tear slid down her cheek. “It kept getting worse and worse as they got older.” She balled her hands into fists. “Then one day they cornered her and assaulted every part of her they could with multiple different objects.” She looked at me with fierce fire in her eyes. “All because she was different,” her voice practically became a growl, “all because she has autism.”

Danielle was quiet for a while. I could only stand in stunned silence. I remembered how I contemplated taking advantage of Sums. Suddenly I was glad that I managed to resist those urges. “I wanted revenge,” she continued “I wanted the girls who did it to suffer. So I created fake profiles, spread rumors, manipulated social situations to isolate them one by one.” Her voice had taken on a detached quality, as if she were describing something that happened to someone else.

“Until Violet came along,” I said, remembering fragments of what she'd told me before. Danielle nodded. “She caught me doing it one day. I thought she wasn't even paying attention to me.” She laughed “I was wrong about that obviously. She confronted me away from others.” Her face turned dark, “At first, Violet wanted to use it as leverage against me.” She then smiled a nostalgic smile, “but when I told her why I was doing it, she helped me destroy those girls using her network of rich connections.” Danielle looked me in the eyes and I could tell she was being genuine. “That’s how we became friends.” Her smile turned into a haunted look of regret. “But I didn't stop bullying. It became a rush. The power of watching someone's social life implode because of words I typed from the safety of my bedroom.”

“So when it came to Stan…” I said, bringing us back to the present. “…It felt familiar. Right, even.” Danielle had a firm resolve on her features. For the first time since my panic attack, I felt myself relax slightly. Here was someone who understood. Not just the fear of getting caught, but the darker impulses that had led to our actions in the first place. Danielle saw the monster inside me and wasn't repulsed. She recognized it from her own reflection.

“I keep thinking about what Sums said,” I admitted. “About how rape is rape, regardless of who does it. About how the female attacker is just as bad as Stan.” Danielle quickly stood up and gave me a hug, surprising me. “Listen,” she said after the hug ended, “Sums doesn’t know it was us. She doesn’t need to. Nobody else needs to.” Her face darkened again “I got in way too deep and got into some serious trouble for what I did. Violet helped me out of it.” She shook her head “I can’t get in trouble again. Yes what we did was fucked up, but we have to live with it and move past it.”

“That’s why I had a panic attack,” I explained. “When Sums yelled all those things I felt so guilty that I got overwhelmed.” Danielle nodded in understanding. “Everyone knows you helped Sums after she got assaulted. If you act normal, they’ll assume it was just the stress of taking care of her that caught up to you.” She smiled reassuringly, “After a week or two, nobody will be talking about this supposed female rapist.”

Danielle and Violet both made me feel better in different ways. They were right. All I had to do was suppress the monster inside me and be the old Alex. The only question remaining was, how could I be the old Alex when I had changed so drastically?
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[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: Nosex, story
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Alex goes on a date with Tom even though she no longer wants him and wants Sums instead.

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Chapter 31 Dating

Wednesday morning I could feel the effects of the anti anxiety meds. The paranoia was still there and so were the dark thoughts, but they were both dampened. I felt like some of the edge was taken off. In the bathroom I stood before the mirror. The face staring back at me looked less haunted, eyes clearer but somehow flatter. It looked…normal. Large, but normal.

The campus pathways teemed with students rushing between classes. Normally, I would have hunched my shoulders, convinced that every glance, every whisper, every laugh was about me, about what I'd done. Today, I walked with my head up, noting with detached curiosity how little attention anyone actually paid me. Two girls passed, deep in conversation about a biology exam. A guy on a skateboard nearly clipped me, calling a hasty apology over his shoulder.

None of them looked at me with suspicion. None of them pointed and whispered, "That's her, the CUNT rapist." Violet and Danielle had been right. Maybe the campus gossip machine had already moved on. Or maybe it had never focused on me at all, and my paranoia had manufactured the entire threat. Fragments of conversation floated around me. A group of engineering students comparing notes for an upcoming project. A girl complaining about her roommate's boyfriend who was breaking the rules by living in their dorm. Two guys debating which professor graded easier for a required course. Not a single mention of assaults or rapists or suspensions. Just the everyday buzz of college life continuing as if nothing had happened.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A message from Tom.

Hang out after classes?

I stared at the message, feeling a strange disconnection to it. Two weeks ago, this text would have sent my heart racing for entirely different reasons than panic. I would have fretted about what to wear, worried about being awkward, and felt like we were the number 10 if you stood us side by side. Now I felt empty because my heart pined for Sums. And I didn’t feel like I deserved to be with either of them.

It’s a date <3

Weeks ago I would have overanalyzed and kicked myself for saying the “date” word. Now it was just an afterthought. I sent texts to Sums, Violet, and Danielle because that’s what the old Alex would have done. The normal Alex. They all replied with various emoji’s that could have meant anything from “congrats” to “get it girl.” I should have felt happy, but instead I just felt like a spaghetti dinner with just the noodles and no sauce. Bland.

***

We had our date at a coffee shop within walking distance of the campus. “I can order for us,” he smiled, “what would you like to drink?” I asked for black coffee, simple and bitter, like the thoughts circling my mind. Tom seemed disappointed, like he'd expected me to order something complicated that revealed hidden depths. He went to the counter while I watched his back, the way his shoulders hunched slightly when he talked to the barista, how he shifted his weight from foot to foot. All the signs of nervousness I would have found endearing before.

He returned with my coffee and something for himself topped with whipped cream and caramel. “So,” he said, tapping his fingers against his mug, “I realized I never actually told you much about myself. Which is pretty stupid considering how long I've...” he trailed off, cheeks flushing. I smiled a half fake half genuine smile at him “wanted to talk to me,” I finished the sentence for him. This should have been a memorable moment, but instead it was just…dull. He nodded and seemed to be unaware of my inner struggle.

I took a sip of coffee, felt it burn a path down my throat. “Tell me about yourself, then.” Tom grew up in a small town three hours west of Cook, the kind of place where everyone knew everyone's business and the highlight of the year was the county fair. His parents were both teachers and they’ve always been supportive of his interests. He didn’t know what he wanted to do as an occupation yet, but felt like making video games would be a fun job.

When he talked about his passions, Tom was transformed. His hands moved expressively, punctuating his words. He made jokes that surprised laughs out of me, real ones that I felt bubble up from somewhere. For brief moments, I forgot who I was, what I'd done. I was just a girl on a coffee date with a boy who liked me. Then his hand would brush mine accidentally-on-purpose across the small table, and reality would come crashing back. His touch should have thrilled me. I should have been analyzing the meaning of every finger brush, every lingering glance. Instead, I found myself thinking of Sums.

“You're a million miles away,” Tom said, breaking into my thoughts. His smile had turned uncertain. “Did I talk about myself too much?” I shook my head “It’s the anti anxiety medication the hospital gave me,” I said. That wasn’t the whole truth of course, but it was close enough. “It’s starting to work and I’m getting used to feeling more normal.” He smiled “Awesome. Enough about me, tell me about you.”

I found myself repeating the same thing I initially told Sums when we first met. Then said “I’m going for psychology to help people, but I don’t know what to do yet.” Saying the words ‘I want to help people’ felt like a massive lie given what I had done. “It’s good to help people. That’s a noble cause.”

If only he knew how completely opposite of noble I really was. How many secrets festered inside me. I looked at our joined hands and felt…nothing. There was no spark. It was like holding hands with my brother. Tom wasn’t who I really wanted, not anymore. But how could I tell him that without hurting him?

We walked back to campus as the sun sank toward the horizon, painting everything in burnt orange and long shadows. Tom walked beside me, close enough that our arms occasionally brushed. Students crossed our path, heading to evening classes or dinner, their faces aglow in the fading light. I wondered if any of them carried secrets as heavy as mine, if any of them walked this same path feeling like a fraud in human skin.

Tom's hand brushed against mine once, twice, before he finally gathered the courage to take it properly, his fingers intertwining with mine. I looked down at our joined hands with a strange sense of detachment, as if I were watching it happen to someone else. His palm was warm and slightly sweaty against mine. I remembered how desperately I had once wanted to be chosen, to be seen. The memory felt like looking through the wrong end of a telescope, distant and impossibly small.

“I had a really good time,” Tom said, glancing at me with that hopeful expression that should have made my heart race. I smiled automatically in response, a reflex developed from years of watching others interact, learning how to mimic normal human reactions. “Me too,” I said, and it wasn't entirely a lie. I had enjoyed parts of our conversation, the glimpses of passion and intelligence. But beyond that, I really only wanted Tom as a friend and Sums as a lover.

We walked in silence for a while, the medication allowing me to be comfortable with the lack of conversation in a way I never would have been before. Tom kept glancing at me, then away, like he was working up to saying something important. I waited, neither dreading nor anticipating whatever might come next. “I know it hasn't been that long,” he finally said, “but I really like you, Alex. There's something about you that's different from other girls.” If only he knew how right he was. How fundamentally different I had become. “You're not trying to impress anyone. You just are who you are.” “Thanks,” I simply said, unsure of what else to say. Every moment made me feel bad for Tom. Here I was, leading him on when I had no interest in him anymore. I didn’t want to hurt anyone ever again. But how could I avoid hurting him?

We reached my dorm building as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the trees. The golden hour was over, leaving behind the blue-gray twilight that made everything look slightly unreal. Tom stopped at the bottom of the steps, turning to face me. His eyes reflected the harsh security lights mounted above the doors, pupils contracting to pinpoints as he looked at me.

“So, Alex,” he looked really nervous. It was cute, but the kind of cute when you see a puppy instead of romantic cute. “Will you be my girlfriend?” Damn it, why couldn’t he have just asked to go out on another date? He had to go that route. “Yes,” I heard myself say. What else could I do when any other answer would hurt him?

His smile was immediate, lighting up his entire face. He stepped closer, one hand still holding mine, the other coming up to touch my cheek. I knew what was coming next. I could have stepped back, made an excuse, avoided it. Instead, I stood still as he leaned in, his lips pressing against mine in a gentle, questioning kiss.

The kiss was surreal. I should have felt a spark, a connection, butterflies in my stomach, something. Instead it just felt like a kiss from an overly friendly neighbor. Tom pulled back, his expression a mixture of happiness and uncertainty. He could tell something was off, but he didn't know what. How could he? I barely understood it myself.

“Goodnight, Alex,” he said, squeezing my hand once before letting go. “Goodnight,” I echoed, then turned and climbed the steps to the door, not looking back though I could feel his eyes on me until I disappeared inside. The hallway to my room seemed longer than usual, the distance stretching as I approached my door.

Sums sat at her desk in the dorm room, surrounded by textbooks and scattered notes, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail that exposed the elegant line of her neck. A single desk lamp illuminated her workspace, casting the rest of the room in shadow. She looked up when I entered, and the immediate warmth that bloomed in my chest at her smile felt like stepping out of a freezer into summer heat.

“Hey,” she smiled, “How’d it go?” The contrast between what I'd felt with Tom and the immediate, visceral reaction to Sums' presence was stark. With Tom, I'd gone through the motions, observing my own behavior like a scientist studying an experiment. With Sums, I felt present in my body, aware of every heartbeat, every breath, every sensation.

“It was good,” I said, not completely a lie but not the whole truth either. “He asked me to be his girlfriend.” Sums eyes sparkled, something they hadn’t done since the…incident. “And you said yes, right?” The eagerness in her voice was painful to hear. She wanted me to be happy, to have what she thought I wanted. “I did,” I confirmed. She frowned. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a ‘but’ at the end of that?”

“Sorry,” I apologized, “the meds are working but they make me feel a little different. It’s just going to take some getting used to.” “Good.” She beamed at me. “You deserve someone nice after everything. Especially when you helped after…” I almost flinched at that. If she knew what I'd done, what I'd caused, she wouldn't think I deserved anything good. She'd run from me, report me, hate me. And she would be right to do so.

I excused myself to go to the communal restroom. There, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, searching for any outward sign of the truth burning inside me. My heart had made its choice, but it had chosen someone I could never have. I had become the very thing that had hurt her. The medication might control my panic, my paranoia, but it couldn't erase what I'd done or change what I now knew about myself. No little pill could fix that.
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Originally I thought I would make this chapter where the police start investigating rumors of the CUNT rapist, adding to Alex's paranoia. But then I considered something. Most of the time victims of rape are, sadly, not believed or not taken seriously. What if they didn't take Stan seriously? What if the majority of people really did think that it was a stupid urban legend?

[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: Nosex, story
-------------------------------------------------------------

Alex makes a good choice and feels better about herself.

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Chapter 32 Positivity

About a week after starting the medication, I skipped a dose by accident and noticed that I wasn't a trembling mess of paranoia and guilt. The er doctor and prescription label did say “as needed,” so I naturally decided to do just that. He also said to go to the counseling center, but I hadn’t done that yet due to both the bad experience and if I confessed my secret the therapist would have to report it.

Tom sent me a heart emote text on our two week “anniversary.” Thankfully he didn’t say “happy two week anniversary” like some people who go over the top with celebrations do. I replied with a heart emote back and wondered how long the relationship would last. Not out of paranoia, but more out of guilt. My feelings hadn’t changed since the day Tom asked me to be his girlfriend. I liked him, but my heart felt like it belonged to Sums. I didn’t know how long I could keep up the charade. At least the guilt about the other things I had done was slowly fading away. It also helped that I was avoiding the frat parties by using classwork as an excuse.

Tom and I walked to the coffee shop where we had our first date. After we sat down I could tell he had something on his mind. “Alex,” he said, his voice suddenly steady as he made purposeful eye contact. “I need to ask you something, and I want an honest answer.” The ambient noise of the coffee shop seemed to fade away, the clatter of dishes and murmur of conversations receding until all I could hear was Tom's breathing and the thundering of my own heart.

“Do you actually want to be in a relationship with me? Romantically, I mean.” The directness of his question startled me. I'd expected to be the one to broach the subject, to carefully navigate my way to the inevitable breakup. But here was Tom, cutting through all the pretense and asking the exact question I'd been dreading. “Because,” he continued before I could answer, “I just... I feel like something's off. Like maybe we rushed into this.”

I said in a remorseful tone, “I’m sorry. I have feelings for someone else and didn’t know how to tell you my feelings changed without hurting you.” The silence that followed felt eternal, though it probably lasted only seconds. I braced myself for his hurt, for the anger or disappointment that would surely follow. But to my astonishment, Tom's shoulders visibly dropped, the tension bleeding out of him like air from a punctured balloon. His breathing steadied, and something almost like relief flashed across his face.

“I’ve been feeling the same way,” Tom said. “You’re an amazing woman Alex, and I’m sorry I just feel like…” “…like we’re brother and sister instead of a couple,” I finished for him. Tom snapped his fingers, “yes, that’s exactly what it’s like. It wasn’t the same way with Danielle.” His face grew remorseful, “I hope she will take me back if I ask her.”

My mind flashed back to what Danielle had said about their relationship, how they were better as friends. Had she been lying to make me feel better about dating Tom? Or had she been trying to convince herself as much as me? “I think Danielle will be thrilled,” I said honestly. “She’s a good person.” I didn’t tell him the exception of good until you mess with her sister, but I doubted Tom would do something like that. At least I hoped not.

“Are we ok as friends, and are you ok?” Tom asked with concern in his eyes. It was adorable in a brotherly way. I nodded and smiled, genuine this time. “Yes to both. Now go ask Danielle out. The worst she could say is no. If she does, I’ll be there for you as a friend.” Tom smiled back. “Thank you,” he said, “you are a great friend Alex. Don’t ever change.” Those last three words echoed in my brain. If only he knew.

When I walked back to my dorm that day I felt better than I had in weeks. I hadn’t hurt Tom, he hadn’t hurt me. We were truthful to each other and it wasn’t a messy affair. The guilt of hurting others was still there, it would probably never go away, but it was diminished now. Was this what it felt like to do the right thing? To face a problem directly instead of twisting it to serve my darker impulses?

A small group of students sat in a circle near the humanities building, a professor gesturing animatedly as she conducted what appeared to be an outdoor seminar. I watched them as I passed, struck by how ordinary the scene was. In another life, perhaps I would have been one of them, my biggest concern a midterm or a weekend party, not the constant battle against my own monstrous urges. But even as I entertained this thought, I recognized its falsehood. I'd never been that person. Even before the assaults, before the monster fully emerged, I'd always felt outside, looking in. Different. Overlooked. Anger and resentment had been my companions long before I'd acted on them.

My thoughts turned to Sums. Sweet, broken Sums who trusted me completely, who had no idea that I was partially responsible for what had happened to her. Who had no idea that my feelings for her went far beyond friendship. The lightness in my chest dimmed slightly. How could I ever be normal when I harbored these secrets? These feelings? And yet, hadn't I just proven to myself that I could choose not to act on my darker impulses? I could have continued pretending with Tom, using our relationship as a shield against suspicion. I could have manipulated the situation to my advantage. But I hadn't. I'd chosen honesty, even at the risk of my own comfort. One good choice. One honest conversation. I smiled to myself. This was a good start, perhaps. A tiny crack in the darkness where light might eventually grow.
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This was a difficult decision to make. Do I continue the story by jumping from day to day like I have been doing, or do I make a short time jump into a few weeks later? If this story were about Alex and Tom's relationship, then it would have been good for me to detail the day to day feelings of Alex like I had been doing. But this story is not primarily about Alex and Tom's relationship, and I think if I didn't time jump a few weeks the chapters I'd end up writing would essentially be the same.

We've had several intense chapters in a row. Time jumping to the point where Alex is feeling positive about herself seems like the right way to go. Readers are now able to catch their breath on something positive after several chapters of intense emotional distress. Buckle up though for the ride in the next chapter!

[JTCK]

I’d skimmed this story once before, and back then it just didn’t pull me in.

But since it keeps getting mentioned in various comments, I wanted to “briefly” take another look… and this time I got hooked. I ended up reading all the chapters published so far in one go.

Even though the sex scenes are rather short, the story is nevertheless great: I especially like the very authentic-feeling depiction of the whole college scenario, and also the completely believable psychological portrayal. You mentioned that there are autobiographical parallels — and you can absolutely feel that while reading; it gives the story a huge amount of authenticity.

It’s a wonderful story so far, and I’m excited to see how it develops.

[RapeU]

I’d skimmed this story once before, and back then it just didn’t pull me in.

But since it keeps getting mentioned in various comments, I wanted to “briefly” take another look… and this time I got hooked. I ended up reading all the chapters published so far in one go.

Even though the sex scenes are rather short, the story is nevertheless great: I especially like the very authentic-feeling depiction of the whole college scenario, and also the completely believable psychological portrayal. You mentioned that there are autobiographical parallels — and you can absolutely feel that while reading; it gives the story a huge amount of authenticity.

It’s a wonderful story so far, and I’m excited to see how it develops.

Awesome, I made a few edits in the story based on @Claire's early suggestions. That's likely what pulled you in because the original beginning was not as great as it is now.

The story is mostly developed already, I am at the beginning of the end. There are a lot of ways I saw this story going. She has to go through a lengthy trial, mental hospital, parents rejecting her, and I had an original ending of the story as her at a new college campus coming across a drunk guy and being able to resist, but not knowing how long she can resist - thus ending it in a cliffhanger.

@Claire also wanted to see Alex rape a professor. I liked that idea too, and I created a plot to where Alex goes to a professor to rape him, but something felt off about it. The professor wasn't Alex's typical target. It didn't make sense for her to go to the professor like that, unless the professor was drunk. But why would a professor be drunk on campus? Then I realized I was trying to get a character to follow a plot when I should instead let the character make the plot. Let Alex, and her dark side, decide what happens. Once I let Alex lead the way, the last several chapters where I had planned on a mental hospital, jail scene, and trial didn't fit. So, I got rid of them and let Alex steer me towards a different ending than the one I had in mind. Perhaps those subplots I had planned will be fun short stories later down the road, but for this story they just don't fit.

[RapeU]

Chapter Tags: MF, drunk, sleep
Content Warnings:
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Alex listens to her dark side, one last time.

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Chapter 33 One Last Time

Shortly after Tom and I broke up, maybe the day of or the day after, I was in the library gathering sources for a paper I had to write for a class. Earlier in the year, someone helped JJ by showing him a website that helps cite your sources for you, citationmachine.net. He texted me the website and said it was great. Once I used it I agreed with him. Who actually had the time to flip through a massive book on the rules of citations to search for whatever was relevant for their paper?

It was 11:50 pm when I finally finished polishing my paper and ensuring the references section was correct. Ten minutes to spare before the library closed at midnight. As I packed up my notebook, shoved my laptop charger into my bag, and collected the rest of my scattered stuff I felt a flutter of pride. Everything felt normal. I was doing normal things, feeling normal emotions, and having a normal college life.

The cold air hit me like a slap as I walked out of the library. I pulled my jacket tighter around my body and paused on the steps, taking in the emptiness of the campus. Security lights cast yellow pools onto the walkways, creating sharply defined circles of light amid vast stretches of darkness. Wind rustled through the trees, sending dead leaves skittering across the concrete like tiny, panicked animals.

In the distance I could see Alpha house and their Omega rivals. Whoever thought to have rival fraternities next to each other was both a genius and a madman. Prank wars could easily be done with minimal damage to the campus itself. But the sound from two parties going on at once? Musical nightmare if you were in earshot of both, which you were if you were outside like I was. Why were they both suddenly throwing parties at the same time? Ugh, annoying. A gust of wind sent a shiver down my spine, and I quickened my pace. My footsteps echoed in the emptiness, a lonely sound that seemed to emphasize how isolated I really was, even surrounded by thousands of other students.

Suddenly I wasn’t alone. An older guy, probably a junior or senior stumbled along like a broken marionette. His phone's screen illuminated his face in harsh blue light as he squinted at it, thumbs clumsily trying to type something. He stumbled, caught himself against a lamppost, and let out a string of slurred curses that echoed in the empty space between buildings.

The guy was completely wasted. His jacket hung off one shoulder, exposing a wrinkled shirt underneath. As I watched, he dropped his phone, then nearly fell over trying to pick it up. When he straightened, I could clearly see his flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, mouth slack. He was handsome too. “Fuckin' hell,” he slurred to himself, squinting at his phone screen again. “Forgo whissh way to go” His words blended together in the language of the drunks.

One moment. One thought. One second. “The parties are so loud no one would hear anything,” I found myself thinking. I should have kept walking. Should have gone straight back to my dorm where Sums was waiting, where I could crawl into bed and continue my streak of good behavior. I'd been doing so well. Weeks without incident. Weeks of fighting back the darkness, of proving I could be normal. But something in me shifted as I watched him stagger forward, so vulnerable, so unaware. One more thought. One more moment. One more second.

One last time.

“Hey there,” I said. “Need any help?” He squinted at me and said “Gurrrl I jussh tryn get bac. Greeaaat paryyy Mega bessh houuushe.” I frowned. “You want to get back to the Omega party?” He clapped his hands “Yessssh, Mega bessh. Alpha boooooo. Alpha shooola bee gooone buuuzzzz noworking.” I wasn’t even going to try and understand what he was saying that time. He wobbled and I caught him before he fell.

“Woah big guy,” I said in a flattering tone, “careful. Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He let out a drunken giggle like a school girl. “Youuu niccche, tannks gurrl.” I led him to the side of a building and contemplated about where to go. Sums would probably be in bed by now, so my dorm room was out. Violet and Danielle might still be out, but then again they might not. Or I could just do it here.

The decision was made for me when the guy said “Sleeephere toni, sleepyes sleepyes.” He slumped to the ground and within moments was unconscious. No one would know if I indulged one last time. He probably wouldn’t even know when he woke up the next morning. Without thinking about what I was doing, I pulled his pants and boxers down along with my own pants and panties. The chill nipped at my naked ass as I slid myself down onto his member.

I had missed this feeling, power and control of taking what I want. The satisfaction of pleasing my dark side. His cock wasn’t hard, but that was ok I knew I could get it there. I rubbed myself against his flaccid sausage and felt it start to twitch. My lips pressed against his, and I could practically taste the alcohol on them. Time compressed, expanded, lost all meaning. There was only the harsh sound of breathing and the absolute power I wielded over this stranger's body.

The cock was large enough to hit that sweet spot of pure pleasure. I craved it, needed it, deserved it. His cock throbbed and I felt the familiar feeling of ooze squirt up inside me. Immediately the cock softened and became flaccid again. I didn’t care and kept rubbing myself against him, against his body, against a body that was for that moment mine for the taking. On and on I went until my body finally exploded in the sweet, sweet release of pleasure. Then, I lay next to him on the ground, feeling extatically wonderful from that sexual thrill. But the sexual thrill didn’t last long. Moments later, reality came crushing back to me like I was on the beach getting hit with a tidal wave. What did I just do?

The question hit me like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. Cold sweat broke out across my skin despite the chill night air. I stared at the student, the victim, my victim, and saw for the first time not an object of predation but a person. A human being I had just violated in the most intimate, devastating way. Just like Sums had been violated.

The comparison I'd been avoiding slammed into my consciousness with brutal clarity. This is what had happened to her. This feeling of being used, of having no control, of being treated as an object rather than a person. This was what Stan and his friends had done to her. And this was what I had just done to this stranger. I was no better than them. No better than Stan. No better than any rapist.

Nausea rose in my throat, burning and insistent. I bent double, certain I was about to vomit, my stomach heaving with self-disgust. My hands shook so violently I had to press them against my thighs to steady them. Tears stung behind my eyes, hot and shameful. “I'm sorry,” I whispered to his unconscious form, though I knew the words were meaningless, inadequate, pathetic, and didn’t matter because he had passed out. “I'm so sorry.”

What did I just do? I couldn't stand there any longer, couldn't bear to look at what I'd done. With clumsy, frantic movements, I put my pants and panties back on, wiping my hands repeatedly against my pants as if I could somehow remove the evidence, the touch, the guilt. Then, I really did vomit. My stomach contents heaved out like a river bursting through a dam, like how San had nearly vomited on me the first time I saw him.

After that I just ran away. My feet pounded against the concrete as I fled from the scene, from the crime, from the monster I had become. Each breath came as a gasp, painful and insufficient. The campus blurred around me, security lights smearing into streaks of yellow as tears filled my eyes. I ran blindly, instinctively, driven by panic and self loathing. What the fuck was I thinking? As a psychology major, I should have known better. People with addictions always told themselves one last time and never meant it. That meant I was addicted. It meant I was irredeemable. There was no coming back, no way to undo the damage I'd inflicted.

I slowed only when my lungs burned unbearably, when my legs threatened to collapse beneath me. Bent over, hands on knees, I sucked in ragged breaths and tried to orient myself. I was on the far side of campus, nowhere near my dorm. I'd run in the wrong direction, driven by nothing but the need to escape. I turned around and went the correct way, making sure to completely avoid the area where I had my way with the guy. With each step, the horror of what I'd done settled deeper into my bones. I hadn't just broken my promise to myself. I hadn't just fed the monster one last time. I had become the monster. Completely and irreversibly. And I had no idea how to live with that knowledge.
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