Campus Rapist
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2008 by cellophanesmile

Bee was in her creative writing class, the only class where she didn't know anyone, which made her nervous. You see, Bee was hopelessly shy. Her really good friends, Poppy and Melanie, she had had since high school, and any knew ones she made were through mutual friends.

Bee couldn't just go up to a stranger and start a conversation, and she didn't know how the rest of the world did it. She was especially shy around boys, and had never been on a date. She had been asked a couple of times, but the prospect of having to make conversation for an entire evening had kept her from accepting.

And being that she had never been on any dates, Bee had also never been kissed. Poppy always threatens that she would get some random boy to give her a smooch, that way she would stop complaining about probably being the only freshman here to never have been kissed. Melanie always contradicts her though, saying that a first kiss has to be special.

But Melanie always wants the first of anything to be special, a first kiss, a first night away from home, a first taste of crème brulee. That's why she remained a virgin until she was in college; she was saving herself until she knew it would be special. That is until she was raped two months ago.

Bee had trouble thinking about the fact that her best friend had been raped. It was made all the worst because she knew Melanie was saving herself for the right man. And Melanie was so pretty she never had problems getting dates, or boyfriends. She could have had sex any number of times, but no matter how hard it was to resist, her desire for the first time to be special always won out.

The rapes around campus were scary, and it seemed like everyone was talking about them. There hadn't been another one in a few weeks, and some people hoped that it was just over. Some wouldn't feel safe again until the guy was caught, like Melanie.

"For your next assignment, you are going to be working with a partner," the professor said, "One person will write a chapter of a story, then the next person will write the other, and so on. This is something I want you to have fun with, make it about whatever you want."

Bee felt worry settle in the pit of her stomach, who would be her partner? "I've randomly assigned you partners, the list is posted on the bulletin board. The stories will be due at the end of the month, so don't wait till the last minute to get started, I can always tell."

She continued with class, and Bee wasn't too worried. It sounded like she didn't have to interact with this other person at all; she just had to pass off her story to them.

At the end of class she looked at the posting on the door. Chris Stanwick. She groaned inwardly, he was a jock and a player: a moron. An incredibly handsome moron, but still a moron.

"Hey Beatrice, looks like we're partners," he said suddenly appearing in front of her. He had deep blue eyes, and blonde hair just long enough to fall into them, a Grecian nose, and a sturdy strong mouth.

"Um, yeah," she said, looking at his chest, which was eye level with her.

"So, do you want to go get some lunch and talk about what we want to write about?" Was he asking her on a date? she thought hopefully. Bee cursed herself for being so easily dragged in by his charm. She was determined not to let him make her swoon.

"No, you just go ahead and write the first chapter, I'll just continue off that," she walking out of the classroom. Chris didn't follow her.


"Uhh, what a creep," Melanie said upon hearing who Bee had to work with.

"You didn't used to think that," Poppy teased, "You used to think he was a dreamboat." Poppy held her hands to her heart and pretended to swoon. Logan snorted and pulled Melanie closer to him. Melanie just giggled and nuzzled his neck.

They were all eating lunch in the dining hall, Bee slowly picking at her french-fries.

"And speak of the devil," Logan said, nodding in the direction of the door. Chris was standing there with three girls surrounding him. He had his arm slung around one, and even without hearing him, Bee could tell he was flirting outrageously.

"Uggh," Bee gave a disgusted snort, "He thinks he's god's gift to women." She turned back to her lunch.

"Well, sucks for you," Melanie addressed Bee. Bee gave her a friendly glare in return. "See you later," Melanie said, as she and Logan got up, heading for their next class. As they walked away, Melanie reached out and grabbed Logan's hand, holding it in her's.

"Those two are sickening," Poppy said, looking at their clasped hands.

"Aww, they're adorable." Bee was happy for her friend, that she had found such a great guy, but she was also a little jealous. What was wrong with her, that she had never had a boyfriend?

"Okay, I'm leaving." Poppy gathered up her trash and headed for the door. "See you."

Bee continued to eat her lunch, she had always been a slow eater.

"Oh, I see now why you were too busy to get lunch with me," Chris said, sitting down opposite her. Bee startled, and looked up at him.

"I never said I was too busy," she pointed out.

"So you just didn't want to have lunch with me?"

She was at a loss for what to say, so she didn't say anything.

"Do you not like me or something?"

"No!-- I mean no I like you. Well, I meant I mean no I don't not like you. As in yes, I don't dislike you." Bee just let her voice dwindle off, wondering if what she had just said made any sense.

Chris just chuckled. "I see now, you have a way with words Miss Beatrice. I'm lucky I got you as a partner for this assignment."

Bee noticed that he was using her full name, which she thought made her sound like a complete nerd, but didn't correct him on it.

She just continued to eat up her fries, conscious of every bite she took and how long she chewed each one, now that she could feel the weight of his eyes on her. Why wasn't he leaving? She didn't say anything else to him throughout the entire lunch, but he seemed content to just sit there and watch her. Could he see how incredibly uncomfortable he was making her? Was he doing it on purpose? That bastard.

When she got up to throw her tray away, he followed. "Where are you going now?"

"The library."

"Good, I'll come."

Bea glanced at his face, then averted her gaze to her feet, watching them carry her forward. She could feel Chris walking beside her, but didn't turn to look at him.

She got to the library and grabbed her usual seat at an empty table in the corner. She didn't have a class now, and she could almost always be found in that spot in the corner. Today was the first day anyone was with her, though.

She sat in her chair, staring at the table in front of her.

"Beatrice."

She looked up at him sitting across from her.

"So, what do you want to write about?"

She shrugged.

He sighed.

Bea pulled out her math homework and started working on it, with him just sitting there, watching her. Bea desperately hoped he would leave. After a while, he reached into one of his folders and pulled out a single sheaf of notebook paper. On it he wrote in clear straight letters: Despite his best efforts, the lowly knight failed to catch the eye of the beautiful princess. Perhaps her heart is frozen.

Bea stared down at the words on the paper when he slid it over to her. She picked up his pencil and scratched hastily:, or perhaps the knight is just unworthy.

Bea would never have been able to say anything like that to his face, but she always felt more free to be herself when she was writing.

Chris smiled when she slid the paper back over to him and without hesitation he added another line of text. If the latter be true, then the knight begs the princess of a task he can complete to win her heart.

Bea rolled her eyes. The knight must cut out his own heart and serve it to her on a silver platter.

Chris laughed when he read what she wrote. He scribbled something down, but didn't pass the paper back to her this time. Instead he left it there and got up and walked out. Bea watched him go, as soon as he was out of sight, she grabbed the paper and read the last line: So the princess eats hearts for breakfast? I'll have to remember that.

Bea tried to concentrate on her math homework, but just ended up rereading the sheet over and over again until all the words were jumbled up in her head. She had meant what she had written to just be playful, but now rereading it she was afraid that she came across as a bitch. And did he think she was some sort of man-eater now? Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Bea forced herself to stop thinking about it, no good could come of it. She gathered up her books, slipping them into her bag.


Bea settled down into her usual spot in the library, grabbing her book from her bag. Opening up it up, a crisp white envelop fell out from between the pages. All that was on it was her first name. Wondering how it could have possibly gotten there, she tore it open and pulled out a folded sheet of computer paper. Typed on the page, she read:

In the land that never rained, the princess would sit in her sandcastle, taming wildflowers and kissing chickadees. She would sometimes glance out her frosty windowpanes at the sky, but only by accident, for the outside world didn't interest her too much. The princess was so beautiful, however, that the sky longed to see her face all the time. It would try to tempt her with sunsets and rainbows, but the little princess just couldn't be lured to her window. Heartbroken, the sky started to cry, and her castle melted to nothing but a pile of sand.

The devastated princess sat on this giant pile, crying and crying for her lost home. She cried so much she made her nose red and her cheeks splotchy, she grew pale, and her hair lost its waving life.

The sky, not able to bear what it had done to the lovely girl, flew away from that place, but the princess hardly even noticed, so intent was she on her sorrow.

But the rest of the kingdom sorely missed the sky, and they sent the West Wind to find someone to help. The duty befell a young farmer who had grown poor with no sun to grow his crops.

When he heard about the princess, he set out to find her. He ran all the way, only to find that he could not climb the pile of sand to reach her, every time he tried, the sand would just slip out from under him. He called to her, but she could not hear him, so he wrote a message and put it in a bottle, throwing it up to her.

The bottle landed in her lap, and surprised, she opened it and read: I will catch you at the bottom.

It didn't have a name anywhere on it, but Bea knew it was from Chris. She quickly reread it for hidden meaning. She thought of yesterday, was she supposed to be the princess and he the knight? If so, that means he thinks she's beautiful ... or does he think her nose is read and her face splotchy? And if it is them, does he think she's a crybaby? Or maybe it's not even supposed to be them, and it's just a story.

Either way, it didn't seem like something Chris Stanwick would write, she had always pictured him as some stupid jock, but maybe she had misjudged him. Bea smiled down at the page in her hands. She carefully refolded it and put it back in her book and back in her bag. She knew Melanie and Poppy wouldn't be at the dorm yet, and she wanted to be alone to write her response.

Sitting down at her laptop, she didn't know where to start. Should the princess come down from the sand? After several starts she wrote this:

The princess read the note with much trepidation. She had no idea who was at the bottom, whether it was a kind soul who wanted to help her, or an evil monster who wanted to eat her alive.

For the first time in days, the princess stopped crying, and looked up. Though she had never really appreciated the sky before, she now almost felt bad that it was gone. She realized that she must have driven it away, and simultaneously realized that she couldn't stay on her pile of sand forever.

Taking a deep breath, she slid down the sandy slope, squeezing her eyes shut the whole way. Then suddenly she felt a pair of strong arms around her waist.

"Open your eyes," and when she did, she saw the most handsome man she had ever seen. He smiled down at her and was instantly in love. He was still holding her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, and ran her hands through his golden hair, getting lost in his deep blue eyes. Wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on hers, she reached up and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth.

Bea printed it out and folded it into a new envelope, and wrote his name on the front. Putting it in her book, she took out his story to her and put it in an old tin, lovingly tucking it onto her bookshelf.

Bea suddenly sat up in bed, looking at her alarm clock, the digital numbers blinked 2:02am. Bea scrambled out of bed and over to her laptop. What was she thinking? What if the knight and the princess were supposed to be her and Chris? And she had kissed him!

She opened the file and erased the last two paragraphs. She reprinted it and took the old story out of the envelope, placing the new one in instead. Feeling a lot calmer, she went and crawled back into bed.


Bea walked into her creative writing class the next day, seeing Chris sitting there she was a bit worried about how to give him the envelope. Eventually, she just walked up there and set it on his desk, walking away again before he had a chance to say anything.

Bea sat nervously all throughout class, forcing herself not to look over at Chris, pretending to be utterly interested in what the teacher was saying. Afterwards, she was painfully aware of his presence beside her, but she shyly refused to look up.

She felt him grab her hand from where she was collecting her notebook from her desk, holding it palm up in his. Bea stared down at her hand encompassed in his big one, making hers look tiny and fragile by comparison. He gently laid a folded piece of paper into her palm, his hand caressing hers as he did.

Bea folded her hand around the paper, but didn't pull it from its resting spot in Chris's hand, neither did Chris take his hand away.

"Come have lunch with me," he asked her, and Bea finally looked up at him.

She really wanted to go, and was about to say yes, the realized she would into Melanie and Poppy in the Cafeteria. She didn't want to explain why Chris was with her.

"I'm not hungry," she said pulling her hand away and grabbing her notebook.

"Then we'll go to the library," he said taking her books out of her hands and walking briskly for the door. Bea had no choice but to follow the man making off with her books, and she scurried along behind him.

Chris sat right in the table they were before, laying her little stack of books in front her usual chair. Bea slowed down warily as she got closer to her destination, but finally took a seat in her designated spot.

They sat there for a while, Chris's gaze on her unfaltering and intense, Bea's flickering from her hands, to the table, to the ceiling, to him, to the table, to him, to the bookshelf, to him.

"Aren't you going to read what I wrote you?" Chris finally asked, and Bea remembered the paper in her tightly closed palm. She had completely forgotten she was even holding it.

Opening her palm she unfolded the paper she found inside. The front was familiar to her, the words what she had typed and handed to him just today. Flipping it over she found something handwritten on the back in blue ink. She started reading only to find the she couldn't with him staring at her.

Bea carefully braced her hands under her chair seat and walked it around until she was facing the wall. She started to read again, The princess opened her eyes and knew innately that that man holding her would never hurt her, or at least the farmer hoped she knew. Either way, he couldn't resist kissing her for a second more. For though he had only held her in his arms for a moment, his heart already ached with wanting her. She held her beautiful face up to his, and the poor farmer gave the princess a kiss.

Bea quickly reread the paragraph to make sure she wasn't imagining things, then she lifted her head, but no sooner than she had, she felt something soft and warm against her mouth, and it took her a moment to realize they were lips. Chris's lips.

Bea basked in the glow of her first kiss. It was tender and undemanding, not asking for anything, only giving.

Chris pulled away and stared into her eyes.

"You're blushing," he told her, and Bea remembered herself and quickly looked around to see if anyone had just witnessed her little indiscretion.

"Um, I've got to go," she said standing up and hurrying out of the library, practically running all the way back to her dorm.


Bea sat alone on the couch in her dorm, mindlessly watching television. Melanie was over at Logan's house and Poppy was on a date.

Bea was so angry at herself. Why was she so scared? Why couldn't she let a boy know how she felt? A boy who had just kissed her!

Bea flipped off the T.V and laid down on the couch, her face buried in a pillow. No wonder she didn't have a boyfriend. Mystery solved. She never let anyone have a chance.

And Chris was so wonderful, so different from what she expected. She didn't really understand it, how could someone that everyone saw as just this big partier actually have the soul of a writer? And he had been interested in her. In her.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was in her closet pulling out a pair of jeans and a top. She knew where Chris would be, at the big frat party down the street. And damn it, she was going to be there too.

Never mind that she had never been to a frat party before and she felt awkward and uncomfortably in large crowds, she was going to take a risk. For the first time in her life she was going to take a risk. She was going to walk right up to Chris and give him a kiss. Turnabout was fair play after all.

She wasn't feeling so confident standing just inside the door at the noisy party, however. It was exactly how she thought it would be, full of beer cans and drunk people. Well, she was here and she couldn't back down now.

Bea made her way through the partiers, but didn't see Chris anywhere. She stood awkwardly in the corner, and when someone pressed a drink into her hand she started sipping it just so she could have something to do.

Bea never drank, and attributed her sudden dizziness to that fact. Making her way upstairs, she started searching for a bathroom. She wanted to be alone for few minutes, to get out of the overwhelming crowd. Opening a door, she saw that it was a bedroom, and she would have closed it again, but someone pushed her inside.

Bea stumbled in with little protest, finding she couldn't really make one in her inebriated state. Turning around she tried to see who was now in the room with her, but it was too dark and her vision was too fuzzy. She tried to stumble away, but somehow she found herself on the bed.

The giant shadow pushed her onto her back.

"Who are you?" Bea asked in her slurred speech, still not yet realizing what was happening to her.

There was no answer, but Bea felt her pants being unbuckled.

"What are you doing?" she said tiredly lifting her heavy arms to push his hands away.


Chris stood pensively chugging on his beer while the guys around him were laughing and joking. He just couldn't bring himself to forget little Beatrice and have a good time. He hadn't stopped thinking about her from their first meeting, and now was no different. He was wondering if it was just her shyness that had caused her to hurry off after he had kissed her, or it was because she didn't like him.

Maybe she just thought of him as a big, annoying nuisance that she had to deal with until their assignment was over, then she would tell him to beat it.

"Hey Chris," one of his closer friends walked up to him. Chris knew a lot of people and got along with most of them, but he didn't really think that he had any true friends. He never felt he could truly be himself around anyone, but that he always had to put on a show.

Josh was one of his friends that he knew would accept him for whoever he was, if only he was given the chance. But still, Chris found that he couldn't open up to him. He didn't really feel comfortable around anyone, accept Bea that is.

"What's up Josh?" Chris asked slapping him companionably on the back.

"You know that girl you've been working on your creative writing assignment with?" Josh asked. Josh was in Chris and Bea's class, and he hadn't been oblivious to the sparks between the two.

Chris immediately perked up, "Yeah. What about her?"

"Well," Josh said smiling at his friend who couldn't hide the obvious transformation his face made when Bea's name was mentioned, "I saw her here. It looked like she was looking for someone."

Chris immediately shoved his half-drunken beer on a nearby table and made to go look for her, hoping she hadn't left. She had to be looking for him, didn't she? Chris couldn't picture Bea going to a party full of drunken idiots just because she wanted to.

"I saw her go upstairs," Josh shouted after him, and Chris smiled at his friend's intuitiveness.

Chris made his way up the stairs two at a time. "Bea," he shouted, and although the few partiers who were upstairs turned to look at him, there was no answer from the one he was seeking.

Chris opened the first door he saw, and saw two dark figures together on the bed, obviously getting intimate. He closed it again, wondering where Bea could be. She was probably in the bathroom he thought, and he made his way toward the other end of the hallway, but something made him turn back.

He didn't know what it was but he suddenly felt an urgent need to return to the room he was just in, like Bea needed him to be there.

He walked back to the door, only this time found it locked. For some reason this made his blood run cold and he was more desperate to get into the room now than before. He bodily shouldered the door a couple times, but it refused to budge. He stepped back and forcefully kicked the door right in the center of it, making it fly open.

He threw on the light and saw Bea lying sprawled on the bed, her pants pulled down to her knees, staring at him with wide eyes. He saw a dark figure on the roof outside the window, and ran to it, but the figure was already dropping to the ground below and running toward the woods. Chris felt the urge to chase the man down, but his need to go see Bea was greater.

The sickening realization of what had just almost happened hit him like a ton of bricks. Bea would have been the next victim of the rapist tonight. He hastily walked over to the bed, sitting down next to her he reached out a shaking hand to gently stroke her cheek.

His raw nerves made him jump when the wind blew the door shut, and he realized that he had never been so scared or relieved or angry as he was now.

"Bea?" her name was a whisper on his lips.

"Chris," she said smiling up at him like she was in the most normal situation in the world, but her barely intelligible speech revealed a different story. "I was looking for you."

"Oh Bee," he said pulling her into his arms and pressing his face into her hair feeling a tear slide down his cheek. Her arms dangled limply over the ones that were wrapped around her, and her head rested against his shoulder. "You're okay, everything will be okay," he told her gently, pulling back to see her face.

But Bea didn't seem scared at all, "I'm glad you're here Chris," she said smiling. Her complete calmness scared him more than if she had been hysterical.

"I'm going to call the police," he told her laying her back on the bed and pulling her pants back up and buttoning them.

"No, don't leave," she moaned out.

"Shh," he pulled her back into his arms, stroking her back comfortingly.

"It's okay Bea, I'll be right back," he promised, but she would have none of it.

"No, stay, make love to me." And she let her droopy head stretch up to his, pressing her pliant lips to his mouth.

"Bea, you were just almost attacked, let me get you home," he said, pulling his head away from her hungry mouth.

"Please, Chris, please kiss me." Her weak arms were on the back of his head, coaxing him down to kiss her again.

Chris just groaned, "Bea, what are you doing?" But he let his lips meet hers anyway, matching her hunger with his own.

"No," Chris said pulling back after a long kiss, "You are drunk out of your mind, and I'm not going to take advantage of the situation, okay?"

"I want you to, oh please take advantage," her words were slow and slurred, but Chris couldn't resist them. She was begging him to make love to her. How could any man resist? He kissed her again, before standing abruptly up away from her.

"Oh no, I won't be pulled in that easily. Come on little seductress, I'm taking you home," but as soon as he approached the bed again, she grabbed the base of her shirt, and pulled it up over her head.

She wasn't wearing a bra, her breasts were so tiny and perky she didn't really need one. And her chest was instantly bare to Chris's gaze, which was more than his will power could handle.

His hands were already close to her body, intending to pick her up to take her home. But now he completely forgot his previous task, and he reached out to cup the tender orbs, which were now stretched flat due to her arms being up behind her, tangled with her shirts which had gotten stuck around her shoulders and head.

Chris smiled tenderly at her puny struggles to get her shirt off, and caringly used his own hands to pull it off her, letting his hands caress her arms as he removed it. He tossed it on the floor, and she looked up at him with big, sexy eyes.

"Please Chris," she asked holding her arms out to him. But it was unnecessary for her to do so, because he was already kissing her, running his hand up and down her sides. He paused to undo the jeans he had just buttoned a moment earlier and pull them off, only to be disrupted by her shoes. He quickly tugged them off as well as her socks, before pulling her jeans off the rest of the way.

Then her panties went with the rest of her clothing and she was naked before him. He let his hand run up from her knee, to her thigh, then to that delicate spot in between her legs. Bee squirmed, and held out her arms for him. He leaned down to her, and kissed her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Don't stop," Bea gasped out breathlessly. Those sweet little words sent Chris over the edge, and he unzipped his pants and pushed them down to around his feet. He laid over her, bracing himself off of her.

"I want you," she begged. Chris slowly started to press his hard cock into her tight little snatch. God she was tight! Chris was still marveling at how wonderfully tiny she was when he came to something he wasn't expecting, a hymen.

"You're a virgin," he stated out of surprise.

Bea didn't say anything, only tugged at his shoulders for him to continue. He continued to press into her, taking her virginity in one stroke.

"Are you okay?" he asked her gently, not wanting to hurt her.

"Don't stop, Chris. Please don't stop," she begged.

Chris grinned. "Don't worry, baby, I'm not going to stop."

He continued to bury himself in her, taking her completely. Bea was moaning under him, and he pulled out and shoved into her again. She gave a little shout and raked her nails over his shoulders. She was bucking her hips in her eagerness, and Chris could feel his pleasure rising.

She came around him almost immediately. Chris felt it, but he was too wrapped up in his own pleasure to pay attention to anything else. Chris had made love to many women, but he had never cared for any of them like he cared for little Beatrice.

He soon came inside her, and it wasn't until a few moments after that he realized she wasn't responding anymore. "Bea," he said gently, stroking her face. Her eyes were closed, she must have passed out.

Before he could do anything else, the door was suddenly slammed open. "Get out of here," he shouted.

"Sorry," someone said, but then a moment later, "Hey, is she okay?"

Chris had gotten off of her and had pulled a blanket over her naked body, then pulled his jeans back up.

"Fuck, she's out cold," the guy said after peering at her face "You fucking rapist pig!" he yelled loudly.

"You don't know what the fuck your talking about..." Chris said, but some other guys had already come running.

"Chris, man, what the hell's going on?" one of them asked.

The guy who called him a rapist spoke before Chris had a chance. "I walked in on them, he was on top of her and she was passed out."

"No, she was awake a few moments ago, she just passed out. The real rapist climbed out the window and ran off."

They all looked at him disbelievingly, disgustedly.

"Fuck, I'm calling the cops," the one said, leaving the room.

 
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