The Rose Diaries Ch. 16

Disclaimer and Notes: The Rose Diaries is an incredibly dark story focusing on forced (heavy emphasis on "forced") feminization of a completely non-compliant individual. There are elements of non-consent, violence, and dark subject matters. In addition, this story depicts dysphoria, dissociation, and general depression.

I hope you do enjoy this chapter if you decide to continue reading. If you do enjoy this chapter, please leave a comment/feedback and let me know!

Act 2 will have fleeting moments of intense physical violence. I will give more warning when it is present in the chapter. It is in general darker than Act 1.

Thank you.

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There were in Peter's opinion two types of silence. The first was the quiet and absence of any sort of noise. The silence that most average people would be blessed with. The sound of nothingness and peace. Then there was the second kind. The kind that could only be described as ominous and foretelling of some sort of future tragedy ready to befall him. The silence before a storm as it were.

The ride back from Doctor Johnson's was absolutely the second kind. Mistresses Luck and Charm sat in cold emotionless quiet for the entire duration of their long trip. He tried to keep his unease to himself. He tried to focus on the road, on the sky far above, or even on the floor but nothing took effect.

His mind wandered to uneasy places. Were they going to hurt him? Beat him until he bled? What exactly had the two gotten from their surprise gift from Miss A.?

He sighed loudly at the thought of that cruel bitch. Anything that Miss A. had a hand in was absolutely horrific for him. For all he knew, she had ordered them to do something truly depraved and disgusting to him when they had left him alone with Doctor Johnson.

Not to mention that she had enlisted that strange fucking man into those weird sessions. What exactly was his deal? Was he simply some fucked-up therapist? Some grossly immoral asshole who got off at causing boys like him mental anguish?

He hated every moment of it. Every moment of the second silence that permeated the car. Every moment of the anxiety that coursed through his veins. His heart beat hard in his chest to a never-ending rhythm of his own fears.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Doll, get the fuck out of the car!" Mistress Charm's voice broke through his mental barrier. Slowly he opened his eyes and found himself back in the dark space of their garage. Mistress Charm and Luck both glanced over at him from the front of the car with a look of both worry and anger. He nodded as he followed their orders stepping out of the vehicle at once.

"Luck, get the door?"

"On it." Mistress Luck was even quicker than he was to the door and as she opened it, she pushed him through. It was odd how comfortable he was at catching himself in his heels. As he felt his body begin to fall, he was quick to catch himself. Even quicker to remain planted on his feet. He shot a look over his shoulder at Mistress Luck who simply narrowed her eyes and pushed past him as a shrill alarm rang out.

Their kitchen was simple. It wasn't decadent, ornate, or fancy. In fact, it was rather plain for something that belonged to Blackstone. There was a large silver refrigerator, a white stovetop and oven, and all of it flanked by white countertops and cabinets. There were a few personal touches such as a to-do list on the front of the refrigerator doors, a chore schedule, or even little magnets that spelled out "get fuckd" on the side. He watched while Mistress Luck quickly typed in something at the keypad next to the garage door and the alarm quickly stopped. She strode over to the stovetop and took out a pot from the cabinet above before turning the range on.

"What a fucking day." Mistress Charm sighed shutting the door behind her. "Out of my way, Doll." She growled pushing past him and opening the refrigerator. He caught himself once again before he could fall.

"What happened to being my friend?"

He asked. He regretted it instantly ass she slammed the door shut and glared back at him.

"How about you fuck off while I make dinner with Luck, okay? Shouldn't you be happy about that? Being left alone?" He didn't need another second to escape the rising tension. The living room provided ample reason to stay on the first floor. There was enough entertainment to well and truly take his mind off the second silence. He strut carefully over to the couch before sitting down letting his entire being be absorbed by the soft leather seats. He had a couch once-upon-a-time just like this. Not as expensive or large but more so in comfort. A place where he could rest his weary body after a long day's work. A place where he could kick up his feet and watch television, play video games, or just nap without anyone to bother him. He pressed his hand flat against the cushions as he gazed down with a look of melancholy and regret.

Ted, Daniel, and Charlie. His friends, his brothers-in-arms in keeping the chaotic store in check. What were they up to now? It had truly been months since their last movie night. Since the last time they were all together eating pizza, drinking cheap beer, and laughing. Now, what was he? A prisoner stuck in a cell of regret and anguish? Just merely clawing at the walls of his rotting mind in an attempt to break free?

His guards laughed from the kitchen nearby. A sound that sent pure chills down his spine. He was sure of it now.

Another tragedy was ready to befall him. Another beating. Another rape. Another torturous exercise in an attempt to keep his mind from healing, his body from recovering its strength, and his will broken and gone.

It wasn't so odd to believe it was going to happen. That with all the goodwill that he had received he was due to another episode of pain and torment. After all, had that not been what Blackstone had conditioned him to believe? Had that not been his life for the past few months?

He missed his friends. Peter hated the somber thought of never seeing them again. Never hearing Charlie's goofy laugh, Ted's snarky comments, or Daniel's sighs. This couch, soft and comfortable, would be perfect for a movie night. Perhaps, that was why Mistresses Charm and Luck had it. A symbol of comfort in their oddly uniform home.

There came a knock at the door followed by the sharp sound of the doorbell cutting through the quiet. He held his breath for a moment before another series of short raps came from the door.

"Are you kidding me?" Mistress Charm shouted from the kitchen. "Ugh, fine I'll be right here!" He watched her strut out with a white apron tied around her waist. She continued with a confident and aggressive stride until she stopped at the front door and laughed.

"Holy shit!" She cursed as she threw open the door. He could only see a bit past the television and to the outside, but he could at least notice the figure darkening her door. They were a small and almost frail looking boy with unkept brown hair. He wore a dark blue shirt and denim jeans as he cast his gaze nervously towards Mistress Charm before setting it back to the floor. Peter quickly adjusted himself so that he could catch a better look but Mistress Charm quickly folded her arms against her chest with another soft laugh.

"Well, well, if it isn't little Willy." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"M-Mistress Charm," The boy stammered. It was not the voice of confidence. It was the voice of fear and anxiety. As if Peter's own feelings in this moment were given flesh and blood and set out into reality. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, you absolutely can." She purred pulling the boy inside before shutting the door. Peter guessed he was no older than nineteen. He had a youthful look to him. A sort of baby face that made it hard to determine his exact age.

"P-P-Please." He stuttered again. "I-I-I came to talk." He spat out. He was visibly shaking, and beads of sweat were forming on his brow. Mistress Charm wasted no time in pulling him by the collar and slamming him against the wall of the entryway.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon, Willy." She leaned in close so that their face were barely inches apart. "But if you were so hungry for my touch then who am I to deny you?" She placed her hand on the wall next to him blocking any further exit or movement from the boy. He wanted to scream for the boy to run. But instead, Peter just looked on with anger and frustration.

"Mistress, I came to talk." He forced out again.

"Why would we?" She laughed. "I always knew you were such a bottom. From the moment I lay my eyes on you-"

"Mistress, I'm moving back home." He squeezed his eyes closed as he braced for a blow that didn't come.

"Home? What about your degree?" She took a step away from him as she let her entire demeanor shift from playfulness to concern.

"It, It doesn't matter. I'm leaving and I thought I would let you know." His voice rose in both volume and confidence. Enough to finally regain even an ounce of composure in her presence.

"Doesn't matter?" She spat back at him crossing her arms with a scowl. "How many times did you leave my house because you were going to be late? How many times did you show up hours early because you knew that you had important work to be done later? Willy, you stressed more over exams then anything I could ever throw at you. So, don't tell me it doesn't matter when you stand here shaking in your boots and cowering in front of me when you never did."

"It doesn't matter." He shook his head once more. "I'm leaving the state and I'm never coming back. I just wanted to let you know."

"Bullshit." She growled. "Absolute bullshit. Why are you leaving now and if you say 'it doesn't matter' I will take you right here and now until you are bruised from head-to-toe."

"I," Willy swallowed hard. "My grandma passed away last night." He let his gaze slowly drop back down.

"Oh." Mistress Charm sighed as she let her arms fall to her sides and pulled him into a hug. "I'm so sorry William."

"I don't want to leave. I don't. But I have to go back home. I have to be there for my mom."

"I know." She nodded cradling his head in her arms. "I know."

"Please Mistress Charm." He trembled once more. "I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Would you stay for a bit longer?" She asked. He nodded slowly as he sniffled loudly. "I'll be right back." Peter watched her nearly run upstairs without another word before vanishing from his sight.

He met eyes with William. Both of them prisoners of Mistress Charm's twisted desires. Victims in very different ways. He wondered if he saw him in the same light as he did.

That he was the lucky one to be able to leave. He wondered if William stared back and saw the jealousy in Peter's eyes.

"Okay," He heard Mistress Charm's voice from above as she descended the steps quickly. "Here."

"What is this?" William asked as he accepted two envelopes from Mistress Charm as she came back into Peter's view once more at the bottom of the stairs.

"It's everything." She sighed. "All of it. All the money I ever took, all the photos, and the videos that I have of our first encounter."

"Mi-Mistress." William's eyes watered as he clutched the envelope tight.

"No." She shook her head. "I'm not your Mistress. You're free to do as you please." Mistress Charm nodded. Mistress Luck emerged from the kitchen with those words. He watched as she approached William from behind and pulled him into a deep tight hug.

"Be good boy." She laughed before returning to the kitchen. "Sorry about your grandmother." She added right before she crossed the threshold back into the other room.

"Thank you." He sniffled. A tear fell down his cheek as he nodded. "Thank you both."

"William, you're going to make some girl very happy one day. If you find yourself back in the neighborhood, my door is always open for you." Mistress Charm smiled as she gave him a small kiss on the forehead.

"Thank you." He repeated. He backpedaled a bit before nodding once more. Peter watched as the young boy left the way he came and as Mistress Charm gently closed the door behind him with another heavy sigh.

"Dinner!" He heard Mistress Luck call from the kitchen. But neither of them moved. Mistress Charm just continued to stare deeply at him.

"Are you coming?" She asked. He flinched at her annoyed tone. He nodded slowly as he rose from the couch. He couldn't help but feel sick as he inched closer to the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" He let his concern finally come through in his voice. There was something off in the way that she moved. Something in the way that she stared at him.

"I'm fine." She hissed through her teeth. "Let's eat before it gets cold." She strut quickly back into the kitchen as he followed her closely behind. At the small little table, Mistress Luck had set three plates of what appeared to be spaghetti and meatballs and three cups of water. He took his side across the table from Mistress Luck and gave small sigh as he sunk into the chair.

The two women barely paid him any mind. His hands shook as he raised a bite to his lips. Her cooking wasn't anything to praise. It was simple pasta and tomato sauce. Not the best he ever had but simply not the worse.

They didn't say anything. Didn't do anything but eat in absolute silence. The only noise that could be heard in that little room was of their forks against their dishes.

With every little bite that he swallowed, his stomach grew uneasy. With every second that passed, his heart beat faster. He felt the table shake slightly and glanced down to see his left leg shaking on its own accord. He grabbed hold of it fast in attempt to steady himself, but he couldn't stop it. He couldn't take another moment of second silence.

"Enough!" He slammed down his fist on the table as hard as he could. Sharp jabs of pain coursed through him as his hand made impact with the hard surface. The blow rang out for a moment in the kitchen. Mistresses Charm and Luck both focused their eyes on him in an instant.

"Do you have something to say, Doll?" Mistress Charm hissed placing her fork down on her plate.

"Why are you two so quiet? What the fuck is going on?" He screamed slamming his fist down once again.

"Raise your voice to me again and I'll make you regret it. We clear on that?" She simply added before picking back her fork once more.

"What the fuck is going on?" He growled rising from his seat. "What happened at that building?"

"You don't get to do this to me, Doll. Sit down."

"No!" He stamped his foot down. "I won't."

"Fine." She narrowed her eyes. She slowly rose from her chair and walked around the table tracing her fingers against the surface as she moved ever closer.

"Mistress Charm-"He was cut off but her sudden movement and as her hand shot out and caught him by the throat.

"You. Do. Not. Question. Me." She hissed. He barely had time to respond before she tossed him aside and to the floor. A sharp explosion of pain followed quickly but his grit his teeth through it.

"I just wanted to know-"He raised his head back up just in time for her heel to come crashing down on to him. She pinned him hard to the floor with only her foot clenching her fists at her side.

"Know what?!" She screamed as she ran a hand through her hair pushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"Charm." Mistress Luck attempted to cut in but he could see only anger in Mistress Charm's eyes.

"Apologize." She said putting more pressure down on him. "Apologize now."

"I-I can't." He sputtered as the pain from her heel driving a spike through his throat overwhelmed any sort of anxiety or anger that he had.

"Apologize to me!"

"S-S-Sorry!" He forced out as she removed the heel from his neck. "Sorry!"

"Good. I think our little bitch has forgotten her place here. Would you care to remind her, Luck?" She scowled as she looked back at her friend.

"No." Mistress Luck shook her head in an act that elicited both surprise and pure shock from both Peter and Mistress Charm. His jaw nearly dropped at her words and he watched her with absolute bewilderment as she took another forkful of pasta into her mouth.

"No?" Mistress Charm balked at the response.

"No."

"Are you kidding? I'm done here." She scoffed throwing her hands up in anger. "Come upstairs if you need me, Luck." Mistress Charm added before storming off. He waited until she vanished from sight before standing back up.

It was uncomfortable how normal it felt to be picking himself off the ground once again.

"Thanks." He offered Mistress Luck who just rolled her eyes.

"Wasn't for you." She shrugged taking the last few bites of her food.

"Then who was it for?" He cocked his eyebrow.

"Not you." He sighed at her response. "I'll go check on Charm. Do the dishes and then wash up for bed."

"I don't know where anything is." He groaned. "How do you expect me to clean anything?"

"Soap on sink, sponge next to it, and water from the faucet. Have fun." She sighed before standing from her chair and grabbing Mistress Charm's plate.

"That is not helpful." He muttered as he watched her leave. He sat back down at the kitchen table before returning to his meal in peace. Bad enough he was dressed like one but now he actually had to be a maid? In what sick sexual fantasy does a french maid ever have to clean anything?

He swallowed the last few bites of pasta remaining on his plate before scooping up Mistress Luck's and his own and bringing them over to the sink. He knew how to do dishes. He knew how to clean. But that didn't mean that he wanted to do someone else's chores.

Still, that would be enraging Mistress Luck and Charm. He didn't want both of their ire at the same time. That was a recipe for disaster. That and he was also dead certain that Mistress Luck could literally just break him in half.

He turned the faucet on and began his chores making sure to scrub each and every inch of the odd ceramic plates clean. He remembered how much he hated washing dishes back home. It was always his job to clean after dinner. Oscar was busy with obligations, his father would be tired, and Peter would be the only person without a life. It meant that most of the housework belonged to him. He vacuumed, swept, did the dishes, and sometimes even the laundry. The old house wasn't that bad and for the most part kept itself rather clean. But it still was unfair for him to do all the work.

You were born to be here.

Miss P.'s words rattled around in his skull as he continued to scrub harder under the hot water, his hands vanishing under a thick layer of foam and soapy bubbles.

"Fuck you." He hissed to her. He didn't want to think of what she would say if she saw him now. Nor Miss K. or R. Dressed as a fucking french maid and doing housework. He threw down the sponge in the sink as he crossed his arms.

"Fuck this." He muttered again. It was humiliating! It was unfair! It was disgusting the things that he had to do in order to survive in this hellscape. He needed to make a break for it. Before Miss A. came back into the picture. Before Blackstone's walls closed in on him again. This was suburbia. This would be his only opportunity to make a run for it.

He couldn't do it while they were within sight. He remembered how Mrs. Tyson completely shut down his pleas in front of that fucking waitress. She stood there and accepted that he was insane rather than he was a victim of this cruel fate. How dense could that bitch be?

He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand as he exhaled deeply. He didn't know if the hot water, the steam, or the vigorous scrubbing was but he had begun to sweat.