College

All the trouble that the girl fell into began with a simple gust of wind. The town that she had moved to was known for its' breezy climate, and this particular wind crawled its way along the side of the building she was in until it found an opening. Most of the windows in the building were open in the late-summer heat, but the wind didn't care for the temperature. It found the window and let itself in, pushing aside the heavy curtain upon it’s' entry.

In the half second the blind was moved out of position a large of sunlight fell upon the sleeping form of the girl, striking her on her face. This stimulus was enough to jerk her awake, and as her eyes opened she became overwhelmed with an uncontrollable feeling of nausea. As the saliva collected in her mouth, as her mind tried to prepare for what was coming, her body acted on instinct and pulled itself out of the well-used bed. The girls' legs moved of their own accord as she stumbled out of the bedroom and into the second of three rooms she lived in.

A few steps later and she was in the paltry bathroom; a tiny room filled with utilities produced in the height of the Cold War. She had stumbled on the mat upon entering, and, neither caring of the age nor of the number of users of the equipment, she grabbed onto the cool porcelain of the toilet and hauled herself into position using the last of her strength. No sooner had she gotten to the correct place that her body let go, expelling anything that may have entered her system in the past day. Time stood still for the girl. The only sensations she felt were the convulsions of her digestive tract and the coolness of the toilet she held on to. Sounds of her evacuation echoed in the small room, and her ears were filled with her horrible retching. Only one thought filled her head, a small voice endlessly screaming out "oh god make it stop".

Finally, mercifully, it ended. A trembling hand reached for the flush and missed, but the body that controlled it did not care. The girl somehow got on her feet and walked out, using any surface within reach to steady herself as she tried to make her way back to the bedroom. She made back through the middle room, clutching onto the two identical desks like a man clinging to a splinter of wood in the ocean. Her bleary eyes caught sight of her bed; old, saggy, and in disarray from the previous nights' restless sleep. With her goal before her she fell onto the mattress. The girl would have passed out immediately were it not for one thing: Another breeze came through the window, inviting in yet another flash of sunlight.  Upon feeling the stinging invader the girl uttered a groan of pure misery, and to avoid any further torment she pulled the sheets over her head. 

It was in this fashion that the girl, the young Kimberly Thompson, spent her first weekend as a college freshman; alone, suffering from a massive hangover, and completely unaware that an irrevocable chain of events had been set into motion.

Monday morning brought a great many things to the small college community. The wind had shifted, bringing cooler temperatures and allowing the infectious feeling of excitement to be carried through the air instead of being stifled by an oppressive heat. It was the first day of classes at the college, and Kimberly, having recovered from the events of the weekend, was getting herself read to meet the challenges that accompanied this day headlong. Her alarm had woke her up at an hour that most college students believe is mythological, and she had practically leapt out of bed in her excitement. Kimberly’s' first step was to go out and run for a mile around campus, allowing her to take in the stillness of the ancient buildings and letting her double check where her classes were at. Upon returning she stripped down at a leisurely pace while the shower in her now-clean bathroom warmed up. Kimberly was an only child and thusly felt no shame about walking around her dorm room naked. Granted, the fact that her roommate had not shown up yet was a bit odd, but she enjoyed not having to explain how the bathroom came to look like a war zone. 

As the bathroom steamed up, Kimberly took a look at herself in the full-length mirror. She was a girl of average height, but had been blessed with long, beautiful legs. Years of dancing had toned her limbs, and that definition extended upwards. Her buttocks were firm, shapely, and perfect. A flat belly was placed above the cleft of her sex, which in itself was a sight to behold. Her nether region was almost hairless, a trait that Kimberly had enforced since the onset of puberty, and the lips of her sex were small, tight, and almost childlike. The only sign of her maturity was her clitoris; it protruded from her lips at the slightest of angles, but it was visible enough to show that her body was ready. Travelling upward along her tanned body her eyes landed upon her breasts. With her cup size at 34 C Kimberly had been the envy of many of the girls in her dance classes, and rightly so. They were firm and round, capped with rosy pink nipples that were still erect from the exertion of the morning and covered with a splash of freckles from the past summers' sunbathing. Despite her womanly charms, Kimberly’s' gaze turned to what truly caught the attention of those she met: her eyes. They were a vivid blue, containing an indescribable energy and a passion that could not be dampened by anything. Surrounding those lovely orbs was a small, tanned face that held a multitude of attractive elements: the spread of freckles across the bridge of her nose, the mouth that always seemed to be kept in a small, coy smile... All of this was topped with long golden brown hair that had a distinctive wave to it despite the fact that sleep had created a number of snarls and twists in it.

 

As she gazed with approval at the body before her, Kimberly noticed a faint tendril of steam floating above her. It was apparent that her shower was well past ready, and so she walked into the bathroom and stepped into the shower with no hesitation. Her actions in the shower were largely automatic, habits that were enforced through years of practice, leaving her mind free to wander. She started to dwell upon the events of the past few days, quickly dismissing any memories of the hangover she suffered. Kimberly had never felt pain like that before, but that is where the mystery began. She remembered that the plan was to go to a few local hangouts with a few girls from her dorm, and she knew that had happened since her hand still bore the large black "X" that the bouncer marked her with to show her status as a minor. The night had progressed well from that point, with the small group of girls taking the time to know each other while they made fun of the patronage of the club and quickly sipped the drinks that had been discreetly sent over to them. Hours later, with a small buzz working in her head, Kimberly had followed the girls down the road to the fabled parties on Frat Row. Here the scene was the same as the club, if a bit more unrestrained. People were drinking openly on the sidewalk, music was being blasted from every open window, and there was the occasional fight that brought around a large, chanting crowd. After taking in the sights for a time the girls reached their destination. To Kimberly the Greek letters on the side of the house were indecipherable, but her new friends had said that the place was, in their words, "cool", and so she entered. It seemed that the house was twice as crowded as the club had been, but there was a clear path to the main feature of the party. Someone had bought a large number of kegs of beer, and one man stood vigilant over them. Mimicking her friends Kimberly gave him a five dollar bill and got a traditional red plastic cup, which was filled by the guardian of the alcohol. Beer in hand, she wandered around with the girls until she was caught in a conversation with some men she didn't know. They tried to convince her to go upstairs with one of them, using compliments and sweet talk to weaken her resolve, but Kimberly just sipped her drink and politely excused herself after a few minutes of this. She had no intention of having a one-night stand, and disregarded the calls of "prude" and "upright bitch" as she walked away.

Then, for some reason, her recollection of the night ended. Her mind was a complete blank after the time she was propositioned by the two men. She froze for a second, her hand holding the loofah between her soapy breasts, the water pounding down upon her. Kim tried to force the memory to return to her, but no matter what route she took in her mind those hours on Friday night were locked away. She saw no point in wasting time on something that wouldn't come to fruition, and so she simply shrugged and went back to cleaning herself. With only a few spots to touch up on she began to rationalize why she shouldn't worry about her missing memory. Her first memory after the blackout was waking up in her own bed, meaning that she got home safe and sound. Besides, she said to herself, if anything bad had happened someone would have noticed and stopped it. It was a foolproof piece of logic, and she was smiling as she stepped out of the shower; her thoughts now filled with her expectations for the upcoming day. Although her outlook on the day had improved, the reality of her situation was about to become painfully clear to her.

A couple of hours later Kimberly walked out of the building where her first class where her first class was held. It had been a good lecture, presenting a class that was going to be both informative and challenging, and she was feeling extremely confident in herself. Not only had she been awake, attentive, and excited to be a true college student, but she had dressed up so that her appearance matched the vigor and confidence inside her. Kim knew she had nothing to fear from this class, or any of her other classes for that matter. She had been an excellent student back in high school. In fact she had been the favorite of many of her teachers. This kind of attention did draw some negative comments from the other students, though. A rumor did circulate for a time, one that alleged that she had slept with some of her male teachers in exchange for good marks. Kimberly remembered hearing about the rumors, and how she simply laughed in response. She knew that most of the school was jealous of her looks and talents in the classroom, but tried her best to be humble about it. Humility was a part of her being that she prized, that she protected. The only part of her that she treasured more was her virginity. She was proud of herself for resisting the advances of the legions of boys in high school, though she did have her share of fantasies when it came to a select few. There was one time that she almost succumbed to her urges, though she would never admit it. On one of the last days she was at home she gave a blowjob to her longtime friend. There was no motive behind it, but in her mind she hoped that he wouldn't forget her while she was away. 

It was in this wash of memories that Kimberly walked back to her dorm. Trapped in her nostalgia she was vaguely aware of what was around her, though conscious enough to avoid the passing crush of human bodies on their way to class. Once back in the dorm she stopped to check her mailbox, and much to her surprise there was a large envelope waiting for her. Although there was no name where the return address would go, her excitement was so great that she took it and walked back to her room with a skip in her step. This joy that she was feeling was short-lived, however. Kimberly opened the envelope as she made her way down the halls and, for the second time that day, became paralyzed at the impossibility her mind encountered. The envelope contained two things: a small, folded piece of paper, and a very lacy, very fine black thong. Immediately Kimberly recognized the undergarment as hers.  It was what she had worn to the club on Friday night, but... Wasn't it the same pair of panties she had come home in? How could this have gotten in her mailbox? Mobility came back to her in an instant, and she quickly ran to her room at the end of the hallway. Her hands were trembling, causing her keys to jingle incessantly, and she felt the anxiety rising in her body. With a quick turn she was in, and once in the safety of her dorm room she locked the door behind her, sliding down in front of it as if though her weight would keep intruders out. Silence held firm in the room, and Kimberly’s' mind went into overdrive trying to figure out how this possibly could have happened. There was no denying that it belonged her, but it seemed impossible that some stranger had gotten their hands on it. Unless... Kimberly got up and walked over to the small clothes hamper that was in her closet. She dug into it, knowing that the clothes she came home in on Friday night were at the bottom. It hardly took any time to get to where they were since she only had two days worth of dirty clothes, and she knew they were what she was looking for not only by the position in the pile but by the scent. A foul mix of tobacco, sweat and alcohol pervaded the fabric, and a part of Kim’s' mind wondered how the entire room didn't stink of that. The more sensible side was still in charge, though, and under it’s' influence she opened up the smelly bundle of clothes. Inside she found the sexy, skinny top she wore, along with the frilly skirt and bra that completed the ensemble. She reached into the skirt, feeling for anything resembling a pair of panties, but much to her surprise she came up empty-handed.

The anxiety returned to her mind, causing her breath to be caught in her throat and spawning a cold sweat all over her body. Hundreds of questions whirled through her head. How did this happen? Was she raped? Why didn't anyone stop it from happening? Who was the sick bastard that did this? Kimberly tried over and over to answer these questions, curled up on the bed and shaking with a nervously energy. Suddenly, she remembered that there was something else in the envelope she had received. She walked to where the envelope lay on the floor in a daze, part of her still insisting that none of this could have happened. She reached in and pulled out the folded paper, opening it and looking desperately at the information written on it. She had been hoping for an explanation, perhaps an apology, but instead there were two lines of text. "Call me by noon. XXX-XXX-XXXX" Despite the lack of information on the page Kimberly read it over and over in the vain hope that some sense could be made. After the twentieth time she balled it up and tossed it aside, feeling disgusted at herself for being so stupid. Then, in the midst of her self-loathing, the confident side of her spoke up. There was no denying that this horrible event had occurred, but why should the memory of this event consume her? Yes, her virginity had been taken away from her, but one night with a passed out woman is all that the sick bastard had gotten. She, for all intents and purposes, was still in control of the situation. This particular thought made Kim smile, and she let her confident half expand on its' wonderful idea. All she needed to do, it said, was to simply ignore the pervert. She would toss the note and carry on with her life after stopping by the campus health department to get checked out. Granted, she'd have to be more cautious when and if she went out again, and she'd probably need to talk about this to someone, but for the most part everything was fine. Now that she had reasoned all of this out, Kimberly was ready to put it into action. She got up, dusted off the few specks of dust on her pants, threw the wadded-up paper and her panties into the small garbage can near the door, and then walked out of her room. It was still a good day, and she was determined to enjoy it.

Kimberly only had one other class that day, so she took a leisurely lunch in the dining hall. She chatted with some of her fellow dorm mates and particularly entertained by the antics of the upperclassmen that were at a nearby table. Finally, when everyone else left for class, she went back to her room and enjoyed part of a movie that was on TV. It was getting close to class time when she reappeared in the hallway, backpack loaded with all the tools necessary for an apt pupil like herself. She had plenty of time to spare and so she took her time, striding down the hallway in confident steps. In the main lobby of the dorm she stopped to check the huge bulletin board that hung on the wall, and she managed to overhear a conversation two girls were having. 

"Did you see those posters all over campus?"

"Yeah! What was up with those?"

"I don't know, but they were pretty disgusting. How someone was able to put those up is beyond me."

The conversation turned to something frivolous, and Kimberly turned away from the board and walked out the door. She was a little curious about the posters those girls were talking about, but the chance of seeing the same things as someone else on a campus this size were slim to none. What happened next could be considered proof of the law of unintended consequences.  A sudden gust of wind caused a loose sheet of paper to fly right into Kim’s' face, causing her to let out a surprised yelp. She looked at her assailant after clawing it from her face and was momentarily put off by the vibrant neon pink color the paper had. She turned it over after seeing the blank paper she held, and in a dizzying rush of deja vu she stiffened at the sight of the firing on the page. "WILL THIS SLUT FOLLOW DIRECTIONS? IF SHE DOESN'T BY 3 PM EVERYONE WILL KNOW HOW MUCH OF A WHORE SHE IS." was printed in large black print on the top of the page, and on the bottom half was a black and white photograph of a naked woman. The girl was sitting on a bed, her knees up and her hands between her legs, fingers spreading open the lips of her sex. Her breasts dangled down towards in that position, and someone had placed the word "cockwhore" on them using photo editing software. The girls' face was blacked out, but her hair was clearly visible, if hard to make out due to the photo quality. As Kimberly looked at this, a horrible idea started to form in the traitorous part of her mind. All rhyme and reason told her to shut the idea out, but when she looked closer at the hands of the girl in the picture she saw that she had a large black "X" on her hand. Her gaze traveled over to her own right hand, and upon seeing the ghost of the mark she got on Friday the impossible idea took hold in her thoughts. Somehow, this was photo of her! Everything else seemed to point towards that conclusion; the mark on the hand, the way her hair was done, even the shape of her breasts... It was all a match. Frantically Kim read the message again. "WILL THIS SLUT FOLLOW DIRECTIONS?" Upon reading it again she made the connection. Whoever made this poster was the same guy who mailed her the envelope. This revelation shook this poor girl to her core. She wasn't dealing with any old pervert like she thought before; this guy was sick, someone who had no morals. Her mind whirled at this revelation. How could she possibly deal with this? Would he actually show the photos? What did this mean for her and her future? She let the paper slip from her grasp, and as she gazed off in the distance she saw one final impossibility. Every tree, every lamp post was covered in pink paper. Unbeknownst to her these posters were found all over campus, ensuring that no matter where Kim agent she would get the message. With all hopes of having a normal day destroyed, Kimberly turned and ran to her dorm as quick as possible. 

She was back in her room, preparing herself to punch the numbers into her phone. Kim had sprinted down the hallway, ignoring the annoyed yells of her dorm mates, only focused on finding a resolution. While she dug through the trash for the bit of paper that was sent to her she was also preparing a tirade against the pervert she was dealing with, a speech, an argument that would truly change his mind and let her off the hook. Once the number was dialed, she thought of what could happen if he kept his promise and released the photos; her reputation would be shattered, her scholarships revoked, her parents eternally ashamed of her.... But these thoughts were all shattered when the line began to ring. Once, twice, three times, four... Now she began to panic, thinking that it was the wrong number and that the whole thing was a colossal joke, but there was the sound of the line being picked up. Kimberly waited with bated breath, and when she couldn't wait any longer, she spoke. 

"Hello?"

Silence held for a few seconds longer, and then, a voice.

"Hello, Kimberly. I'm glad you got my message."