The Rose Diaries Ch. 19

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

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I suppose I should start from the beginning. Like, the very start...

I was born on February 10^th, 1988 in Austin, Texas. I was a healthy little boy who was born to a semi-loving couple and had my entire life ahead of me. Except that wasn't exactly it. My mother Racheal Collins was not the most reputable woman and my father Donald Collins was even worse. It was decided far before I was born that they'd leave me with my Aunt Lisa. That I would be her problem not theirs.

So, they did. My own mother and father brought me to the tiny little apartment my Aunt called home, handed them me, and walked out of my life forever. But Aunt Lisa didn't really care. She just saw a little innocent soul. She told me years later that I was her 'little light' and my parents couldn't handle how brightly I shone upon them. She took me in immediately and from that moment on I was hers.

I never lied to you about my aunt. She was a saint and the most beautiful woman I saw before Blackstone. I loved her. I loved her more than you will ever know. She raised me on two very simple lessons.

Respect others.

Respect yourself.

So, I did. I was kind-hearted and naïve to the cruelty of the world. The other boys would see my emotional availability as weakness and mercilessly tease and harass me. I was called all sorts of names and insults. Crybaby was always one of them. A name that would follow me into my adult life. As I aged, my youth stayed lagging behind my body. I was feminine, dainty, and beautiful. My withdrawn and wallflower-like tendencies never helped improve my standing amongst the other boys either. On a warm spring day, I was cornered by a group of boys from my school who proceeded to beat me senseless, strip me naked, and bind my hands behind a tree. I cried for help. Cried for hours. But it never came. Eventually, I surrendered myself to my fate. To be left here forever with no one who would come find me.

But as soon as my tears dried, a girl appeared before me. She was my age, young and alone, and wore a face of sadness. She called over two adults who helped me out my predicament. Afterwards, as I tried to hide my shame, she gave me her name: Wendy Burke. Wendy was my first real friend. She was much stronger than I was and helped keep the bullies away from me. I fell in with her group of girlfriends and became known through my school days as the "class faggot" but I did not care. Aunt Lisa was more than accepting of my choices. She baked cookies and cakes for me to bring to Wendy's house in the evening. Her parents, convinced I was gay, let me stay the nights as long as I slept in a different room. I attended birthdays, graduations, and my fair share of slumber parties. I never enjoyed any of the traditional feminine party events. I didn't get makeovers or talk about boys. I was just simply content to spend my time around people who made me feel safe.

Wendy and the others grew up to be spectacular looking girls and quickly the mockery that the boys pointed my way became unbridled jealousy. I lost my fair share of fights when the older boys came around. Calling her a whore and me even worse names. The harassment continued for all of my time in high school. Eventually in my senior year, I asked Wendy to prom.

She said no. I cried for days after. Watching her flit around the school getting offers from all kinds. Of course, Wendy Burke wouldn't go out with a fag like me. She ended up in true high school fashion dating the quarterback of the football team. To make his point clear, he had his friends surround me one day after I walked home from school and grab me. They forced me into a cheerleader's uniform and smeared makeup across my face and tied me to the goal post. He told me that they next time I went near Wendy he'd cut off my cock and feed it to me.

Aunt Lisa found me first. Helped me out of the clothes and into the car under the cloak of night. She made me a cup of hot chocolate and I stayed home from school for two weeks. Every day before she left for work, she'd make me breakfast and leave a hand-written note of her love for me. Wendy never called. I doubt she ever knew. It didn't matter. This was the beginning of the end after all.

In the second week I grew restless and I left my home in search of something. I knew the town's streets pretty well and I was confident that no one would cause trouble before school was even out. I came across a middle-aged man who anxiously approached me. He asked me if I would help him to look for his puppy, Honey. I didn't have much else to do and I couldn't help but feel sad for that poor lost dog, so I agreed. We looked for about a half-hour until a little corgi came running up to us. The man immediately recognized the dog as his own and this happy little thing barked and wagged its tail at the sight of him. The man handed me a fifty-dollar bill and walked away with his dog happily in tow. I held the crisp fifty dollars in my hand and resolved to go treat myself to a nice lunch for a good deed well done.

There was a pretty good old-fashioned diner that served these delicious home-made pies. Aunt Lisa loved blueberry the most and so I resolved to surprise her with one for dinner tonight.

I turned the corner when a van pulled up beside me. Two men grabbed hold of me tight and pulled me inside. They stuffed a piece of cloth in my mouth and taped it shut binding my wrists and arms together. I remember screaming until I couldn't scream anymore. But there was no way that I was going to escape.

We drove for what felt like forever. The men didn't talk nor even look at me. They just kept their mouths shut and their eyes focused on the road ahead. We drove until the sun set and day turned into night. I kept on crying and wailing in the backseat of this car. I was scared for my life and I had no idea what to expect.

Suddenly, the moon's light was extinguished, and I found myself engulfed in complete and utter darkness. The car stopped and the men looked nervously at each other before killing the engine and stepping outside. It was so cold. That was the first thing I remembered. It was bone-chilling cold.

Then I noticed the other cars. It must have been ten or more cars of all shapes and sizes lined up in the exact same place. I glanced around the place with tears in my eyes. We were in some sort of hangar and in front of us there was two men in pressed suits with these tall muscular men flanking them. They gave a small nod to each other before whistling loudly.

"Boys to the left! Girls to the right!" The one on the left shouted. The men forced me to walk forward and follow a trail of similarly bound boys. On my right, I saw a group of young girls who were just as distraught as I was. Each man shouted orders as they arranged their captives as they saw fit. For the boys, we were forced to stand in a single line facing the man. I imagine the girls did something similar. The man who stood in front of us was not a young man and his face was wrinkled and old. He licked his lips as he approached each and every boy in the line grabbing hold of their faces and inspecting every inch. He wore an almost permanent scowl and after each boy he would either nod or shake his head. He approached me and I could only stare deep into those dull eyes of his. He grabbed hold of my face and jerked it left, right, up, and down before running his hands through my hair. He nodded after awhile and snapped his fingers. The muscular men barked orders for all those who were approved to step forward.

A young man, perhaps a little bit older than I was, broke free of the men holding him and tried to run away at this opportunity.

And I watched as the old man drew a pistol from his suit jacket and shot him dead.

There was silence for a moment. The pure stillness of absolute horror and dread that surrounded all of us. But as reality came crashing back into us there was nothing but noise.

I can still hear the gunshot rattling around in my skull, I can still see the dark red mist that exploded out of the boy's chest, I can feel the cold harsh fear of death that gripped my heart. The warm trail of urine that flowed down my leg. The sobs and muffled screams of a chorus of souls.

Some of us fell to our knees. Others shook like leaves. But the point was made clear as day. We took our steps forward to the best of our abilities.

I think there was ten boys, but I remember standing amongst seven. Those who were not approved were led away and out of the room. To this day, I still don't know what happened to them. A man stepped forward with a pair of scissors and cut the clothes from my body and helped me remove my socks and shoes. I shivered in the cold as my legs shook. I shot a glance over at the girls. All of them remained standing watching in horror. I couldn't help but feel shame as I caught one of them looking at my nude body. The old man approached me first out of all the boys and tore the strip of tape from my mouth.

"Your name?" He asked in a cold uncaring voice.

"A-Arnold." I stammered. My fear of staying alive was overriding any horror that was currently playing out beside me.

"You sick, Arnold?"

"N-N-No." My teeth chattered with fear.

"Open your mouth." I hesitantly followed his orders. He retrieved a small penlight from his pocket and shone it into my mouth.

"Good." He nodded. "Do you see the man behind me, Arnold?" I glanced over his shoulder to another man. This one was a little bit younger and a bit more jovial as when my eyes met his he waved hello.

I could think of nothing more terrifying, yet I nodded.

"Go to him." He gave me a small pat on the back. I took a small step forward and then another. I could feel all these eyes on me as I approached. I knew I couldn't run. I knew that if I took one step out of the way that I would end up dead with no one who would even know that I died. Perhaps it was stupid of me to continue following orders. Perhaps it was smart of me. All I know is that I did. As I approached the man, another man quickly draped a blanket around my nude form. The man gave a warm smile and a small laugh.

"Smile sweetheart." Was all he said. I watched as the old man continued to inspect the other boys but shook his head at each of them. I remember standing cold and alone next to these horrendous men as I watched the old man return.

"Only one this time." He sighed.

"Only one." The younger man confirmed. "Still other places to offload 'em." He shrugged. He took hold of my arm gently and led me away. We walked together into another room and I didn't dare look back.

The room itself was pastel blue and decorated like a child's playroom. There were board games littering the walls, a television set on a shelf filled with toys, and a couple of bean bag chairs on the floor. It was brightly lit and carpeted unlike the industrial feel of the large room before. The younger man gave me a gentle shove into the room.

"Do you like ice cream, Arnold?" The older man smiled.

"Y-yes." I nodded swallowing the lump in my throat.

"We're going to leave you now but if you sit still, you can have all the ice cream you want in a bit. Don't worry, no one is going to harm you." He spoke in a sweet voice. Even then, I knew he was lying.

"Ok." I nodded as I cast my gaze down.

"Oh, we lucked out with this one." The younger man grinned. "You're a real treasure."

The two men took their leave and I simply sat on the floor and cried as soon as I heard the door lock behind them. I hated this feeling of helplessness, of anger, but I wiped the tears from my eyes as best I could. It didn't help much. I remembered that when the door opened again, I didn't have anything left in me, but I still sniffled all the same.

When I glanced up, the younger man gave me a small little silver dish of vanilla ice cream. He looked at me with kindness but there was such hidden intensity behind his eyes. Whether I was right or wrong, I took a small bite of the frozen treat before tasting something off about it. Then that was it.

I had no memory of ever leaving the playroom nor getting into another car. But when I came back to my senses, I was standing naked on the green lawn of a palatial mansion in the summer heat. The two men had vanished from view instead only an older man who stood on the stoop of the home was present. He was not old nor young with his pale blond hair beginning to fade to a silvery hue and a pair of brass glasses that sat neatly on the bridge of his nose. He was dressed in a fine dark suit with a wine-colored tie. He reminded me instantly of some sort of politician or businessman. He had this air of authority as if he didn't even need to look me in the eyes. As if my existence was nothing to him. Quickly, I placed a hand over my genitals to shield them from view.

I took a quick glance behind me and into the desolate green woods that lay before me. As I took a step backwards, the man cleared his throat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." His voice was commanding and instantly demanding of attention. It had this hint of gravel in it that made it seem almost like a polite growl.

"Huh?" I tried to play dumb, but he merely clicked his tongue and shook his head again.

"All kinds of nasty things out there. At least come inside first."

"What are you talking about?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You're thinking about running or at least it just occurred to you. I'm giving you a polite yet firm warning not to." He sighed as he descended the steps.

"I don't-"

"Enough." He gazed directly at me as he cut my thought off mid-sentence. "My name is Roger Stone. I am the owner of the house behind me and all the surrounding land. Together, you and I are about to play an incredibly exciting game. Would you like to hear the rules?"

"I," I curled my toes in the soft grass. "What the hell is going on?"

"Do you wish to hear the rules or not?"

"I don't want to play this game!" I yelled back at him. My legs trembled and my nose ran slightly as tears welled in my eyes. "I want to go home!"

"That was not the question." He frowned. "Yes or no?"

"Fine!" I clenched my fists at my side as I grit my teeth. I don't think I had ever been so scared of a game before in my entire life.

"There are only four rules in my game. Do as you are told, do not disobey, do not cause harm, and do not run. Very simple, wouldn't you say. The object of our game is to simply keep me happy. As long as you keep me happy then you will be happy. Make me mad however and I can't say that the results will be pleasant." My legs nearly gave out from underneath me as fear completely strangled my body.

"Please." I begged him loudly. I could nearly hear my heart beating in my ears.

"If you would like to stay warm, fed, and clothed I suggest following me inside. You are more than welcome to turn around and press your luck in the wilderness. Again, I would not recommend it. The nearest town is quite the journey away and you are not nearly dressed for that sort of hike, are you?" I bit my bottom lip so hard that I could taste the sweet warm metallic tang of blood at his rant. He was a maniac, deranged, and absolutely out of his mind.

Yet, I glanced down at my own nude form and wiggled my toes in the grass, and I couldn't help but agree. There was no way I could survive out there. The nearest town could be just outside of view, but I couldn't imagine even making it that far. It could've been a lie, a misdirection, or simple a gamble on his part. But I glanced up at him through tear stained eyes and nodded.

"Okay." I muttered.

"Very good." His entire demeanor shifted in an instant to a warm and welcoming smile and nod. He stepped aside and gestured to the front door. I put one foot in front of the other until I was face-to-face with the entrance.

My heartbeat even louder as I slowly passed through the threshold before Mr. Stone closed it behind me. I remember the entrance of Blackstone Estate. I remember the polished marble floors, the large crystal chandelier, but what I remember most was the air.

It's unlike how it is now. Dressed up in expensive aromas from the various scented candles burning around or the hard work of our maids. It's invisible and light as feather. One could hardly notice it unless they really tried. In other words, it was insignificant.

But the air on that day? The air on that day was heavy, thick, and unmistakably coated in fear. My synapses went haywire as my senses were overloaded by the mere presence of inevitable danger. My eyes grew wide, my fingers twitched, and my legs trembled as the sense to fly filled me.

"I never liked the introductions." He sighed sliding a lock into place. "Much like I never like playing rigged games. Yet, here we are."

"You're insane." I muttered under my breath.

It didn't take long for him to show his true colors. For the first time Roger Stone, my future adoptive father, touched me was to punch me directly in the face.

I reeled from the sudden blow as my vision blurred for another moment. I had started to cry before the pain even reached me. Before the punch had even processed in my mind, he kicked me in the chest and sent me falling backwards in pain.

The entryway was filled with my pained cries as I sprawled out on the marble floor gripping my chest in pain.

"Don't insult me." He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I do not like being called names."

"Please." I wailed. "Don't hurt me."

"Discipline is hard thing to instill. It's why I detest these little bouts. Still, this is why I have others." His voice was low and quiet almost as if he was bored with the very topic at hand.

"Please." I begged again.

"Roger! A man's voice called out from nearby slicing cleanly through the brewing tension. His voice was deep yet smooth and I let the sound of my possible savior wash over me like a gentle stream. "What in the world is this?"

"Madison." Mr. Stone sighed fixing his tie. "How good of you to join us."

"I am shocked at this display. How dare you?" A large hand reached down and wiped the tears from my eyes.

I could see him clearly now. My savior was nearly the picture of masculinity from his strong chiseled features, to his broad chest, and muscular form. He had the build of an athlete but the eyes of a saint. I gazed deep into his pale ocean-blue eyes as I whimpered quietly to himself. I could still feel the dull throbbing pain in my side.

He had a nearly blinding white smile while he placed his hands gently underneath me and lifted me off the ground. I couldn't have fought back even if I had wanted to. I was simply paralyzed to my core with fear.

"Who's around?" Mr. Stone sighed clearly ignoring the man's accusation.

"Lawing, Braun, Ruiz, and myself." The man answered.

"There's only four of you?" Mr. Stone cocked an eyebrow as he rubbed his chin.

"That is correct."

"I suppose let's go join them."

"Let's." The man carrying me didn't waste any time bringing me further into the mansion. He didn't glance down, didn't even speak a word to me, but I still trusted him more than Roger Stone.

I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be a man and stand up for myself in the face of this truly bizarre danger. Was I about to be eaten by cannibals? Tortured to death? What grisly fate awaited me?

I remembered the gunshot. The thunderous roar that darkened that poor boy's eyes. How much more time would I have until I joined him? These questions hounded me with each step that the man named Madison took. I ran the numbers in my head quickly.

As it stood, there was no chance for me to escape. There was simply no hope for me. I could feel the tears form as my throat ran dry again. I whimpered pathetically in Madison's arms, but he did not even seem to notice or care. Instead, he carried me through the threshold of a set of double-doors.