The Rose Diaries Ch. 20

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 moments of intense physical violence. I will give more warning when it is present in the chapters. There is dark subject matter in this chapter in particular.

Thank you.

-----------------------------------------------

Blackstone Manor

Room 3E

Nearly a Month Later

It had taken him nearly half a year, but he had done it. On a warm autumn day, Peter Baker opened his bedroom door on the third floor and found a bed inside. His eyes filled with tears of joy as he took a running start and leapt high into the air before crashing down with a slight bounce.

He never thought he would've missed it. But after months of sleeping in a cage, then a blanketed cage, then with two pillows, a couch and finally an actual mattress, he had felt like it was his own personal heaven. All the suffering, the labor, and the lies finally paid off. He barely made it under the covers before letting his head hit the cool pillows and falling asleep right there.

Still, he could not shake the feeling of an oncoming reprisal. In what form would it take? Would it be quick? Or slow and drawn out like the schedule he so dutifully abided by. This was not anything new to him. In fact, he would guess that torturous games had taken up most of his time at Blackstone. The women who lived here were monsters. Demons, succubi of their own admission, who delighted in the pain they caused. The confusion that they sparked. In order to hunt them, he had drunk deep of their poisonous charm and learned something truly profane.

Miss Katelynn Machart-Stone, the woman who had fallen in lust with. The woman who had started as his mortal enemy and then begrudging friend. She was once in his shoes. She had been a girl of Blackstone and suffered all the offenses that were inflicted upon him daily and by some cruel twist of fate had deemed it not only necessary but beneficial to her growth.

Now, she had become his enemy. A traitor to his cause, a liar, and a monster beyond compare. He had sought in the beginning to help her. In the few days after the revelation, he sought to help her return to normal. But she was too far gone, and he pushed just a little too hard.

Miss K. and he had begun to regress to mutual hatred of one another. Hers sparked by a deep maternal need to "help" him on to the correct path. His sparked by her insanity and deluded excuses. Peter knew that he wouldn't ever be able to change her mind. She was set on her own perverse notions. But really what could he have possibly expected from a woman of Blackstone?

Blackstone Manor was a place where men and boys came to die. It was a place that stripped each individual of their soul, their personality, their hopes, and their dreams and replaced it with something truly despicable. What remained was nothing short of an abomination. A pretty one but an abomination, nonetheless. He knew that this place had always been evil. But he had never realized it sooner when he looked deep into Miss K.'s green eyes and saw not an ounce of regret. This place was truly cursed, and that curse lingered more and more inside him with every passing day.

Lying with his face towards the ceiling and his eyes unfocused on anything past a few inches from his face, he came to a sudden and harsh realization.

He was likely going to die here, and he had known it all along.

James or Lily had been right all along. What separated him from being obedient if he never acted? If he had just gone along with every single little machination of the Misses than how was he not a slave? Yes, he had learned secrets. Yes, he had earned trust. But at what cost? The cost of his resistance? The cost of his fading manhood? Every single day, he sat in front of that vanity mirror and watched his face slowly yet surely change the longer he stayed here. His eyes were bigger, his lips fuller, and his chin rounder. His body was beginning to change too. His hips widened and he was forming a small bust with every passing moment. That was only physical change as well. What about the mental changes that had slowly taken root like a monstrous invasive weed in his brain?

"Shit." Peter spoke aloud to the room. He couldn't help but feel anger beginning to build once again. To feel sadness well in the back of his eyes. He was not ready for death. Not by a long shot.

"Shit." He cursed again. But what could he do? Every path brought him closer to his fateful meeting with the reaper. His body would still be alive but if he lost everything that he had held dear, would he truly be him? Or would it just be a puppet that danced to the Misses' pulls of the stings.

"Fuck." His frustrations were boiling over. He had no plan and it was time to admit it. It was time to admit that he was not prepared to fight back. That his delusions of resistance were only there to safeguard him from the fact that he did this out of fear. Fear which drove him to tear himself apart piece-by-bloody piece until he barely remained. It had been less than a year. So how the fuck did the others remain so put together after so long? Was he truly the weakest one here?

He couldn't take that answer and with a quick hop, he was on his feet and marching to the door. He would have to ask them. His brothers, his friends, his comrades in this demented dungeon. He would have to find out what they had gripped on to in the never-ending currents of Blackstone and how they kept from being swept away.

An odd sound pierced the air from outside and his ears twitched. He could hear muffled voices and the sounds of a car door being shut. Who had come to visit Blackstone? More importantly, who had come to the front door? He had never heard anyone before. Before he could even dwell on the thought, Miss K. and R. burst through his door with a look of grave seriousness.

"Doll, come with us." Miss K. ordered as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Shouldn't I fix my makeup?" He asked shooting a glance over to the vanity at his side. His face was fine. Somehow yesterday's look still held firm to his skin.

"You're fine." She drummed her fingers on her arm anxiously. He had never seen her be this impatient before. Usually that was the calling card of Miss P.

"Dolly, don't make us ask again." Miss R. spoke as she shot a sly glance at her friends erratic behavior.

"Fine." He sighed. He followed the two women out of the room and towards the stairs. As they approached, he quickly took the lead and began to descend towards the second floor.

"What are you doing?" Miss K. spat as she glanced over the railing at him.

"Going downstairs?"

"We're going up." She added and his heart sank.

"Oh." He gulped climbing back up to their side. "Really?"

"Yes." She sighed. "I don't want to either."

"Am I in trouble?" He laughed nervously. "Because the last time-"

"Miss A. threatened to kill you. I remember, Doll." She rolled her eyes. "But up we go so be on your best behavior."

"I wouldn't dare to do anything else." He added as he followed her upstairs. The bulletin board on the fourth floor was vacant of any notices or surprises and when Miss K. quickly unlocked the door to the main part of the floor, it was still as death. Not a single woman was standing in the halls, nor, were any of the doors left closed. Marcela's door was left slightly ajar and he did not hear a single word coming from inside of the room. In fact, it looked as if the corridor had been abandoned completely. No, that wasn't quite it.

Instead, it looked as if the place had never been lived in before. Not a single spec of dust, not a single spec of dirt was on the carpeted floors. The verdant forest had begun to change colors ever so slowly and the pool had been covered for the oncoming cold season. Every DVD, video game, or book was carefully placed away in their proper place. What was going on?

"Let's head upstairs." She sighed. "Remember, best behavior."

"Aren't I always?" He smiled back.

"Doll, seriously, this is important. No girls are allowed on this floor and yet you've been here twice. This is either really good or really bad and I'm the one saying this." Miss R. bit her bottom lip.

"I know." He nodded. "I know."

"Up we go ladies." Miss K. shook her head as she motioned them up and into the spiral staircase. Amanda's office was so much brighter than he remembered. The large circular room sat at the highest point of the manor. He could see its significance. That the person who looked over Blackstone could also look over the physical house as well. From beside the large intricately carved mahogany desk a row of windows led out to a small balcony that was currently being occupied by an elderly woman.

Miss A.'s desk was covered with paperwork, two laptops, and a few scattered photographs. He could see her and a younger Miss K. smiling in front of some kind of beach. The thought of the two of them together made him want to scream. On the walls of her office were various paintings that he did not recognize but he did recognize a lovely still-life piece in Lily's distinct style of the front of the Manor. Miss A. emerged from beside the elderly woman and gave the three of them a small wave.

"Good morning!" She smiled. The elderly woman slowly followed her inside. She was pale and bore the scars of aging well. She looked like Mrs. Tyson if only a little bit more relaxed. She gave him a blank stare as she glanced at the three of them. In her hands she held a china teacup and saucer and dressed impeccably well with a pair of silver circular framed glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. When her eyes met Miss K.'s form, he saw her gaze soften.

"M-Mrs. Stone!" Miss K. yelped as both her and Miss R. stood fast at attention.

"Katelynn," She sighed placing the cup down on the saucer with another look of disappointment. "We've spoken about this. You are my daughter. Please address me as such."

"Yes, Mother." Miss K. nodded.

"Good," Her lips curled into a crimson smile. "It's so good to see my girls together once again. But alas, we aren't here for a simple reunion or I wouldn't have asked you to fetch that." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I see." Miss K. placed her hands behind her back with a forced smile. "What is the cause of this occasion, mother?"

"Oh, you'll see. I'd like to address it if none of you mind."

"Of course not." Miss A. smiled. "She's just as much yours as ours."

"Hello Doll." She smiled as she slowly took a step towards him. He could feel her hatred from nearly across the room. Not to mention the evil glint of malice in her eyes. "I am Mrs. Martha Stone and I am your very distant Matron of the House."

"It's good to meet you." He offered in a sweet-sounding voice.

"Don't speak without permission." She hissed. "My late husband liked to play games. So, I would like to play one with you." She snapped her fingers and Miss A. brought over a small little chest. Without even looking to her daughter, Mrs. Stone snatched the chest up and slowly opened it. His heart raced as he could feel the room growing even hotter.

He couldn't speak so he simply nodded in response.

"This chest contains your future, little one. In a few moments I will let you peek inside, take the contents, and decide your fate. But until then," She smirked. "We have a meeting to attend."

"A meeting?" Miss K. asked. "I wasn't told of anything."

"I know. It's a fun surprise meeting." Mrs. Stone laughed as she walked confidently towards them. "I look forward to your contribution, my troublemaker." She purred.

"Very suspenseful, Mother." Miss A. sighed as she stood from her desk. "Ladies, if you'll follow me to the first floor."

He could barely think straight. He just looked at the small box in Mrs. Stone's hands. It was the size of a book closed with heart shaped clasp like his collar. What was inside that was so important? Just what in the fuck was going on?

Peter wiped the sweat from his brow and softly chewed his lip in absolute terror. His mind was foggy, heavy, and barely comprehending the small talk that the women made as they called the small elevator to the fourth floor.

"I swore the records said that it talked more?" Mrs. Stone pondered aloud.

"She's scared, mother." Miss K. answered back as the elevator arrived and they stepped inside.

"Ah, I see. So, it does have common sense." He clenched his fists at his side as he fumed silently. Mrs. Stone referred to him only as "it". She didn't even see him as a girl. To her, he must have been an object. Something even less than human.

The elevator came to a halt as the first floor came into the view. He was ushered out quickly and into an open corridor. He recognized the area.

Where the gardens met the first floor, where the large ornate columns flanked the windows, and where he had opened his eyes for the first time in a truly strange place.

Mrs. Stone was spry for an elderly woman and led them quickly past the small kitchen and towards two large doors he had never seen before. From inside, he could hear loud laughter and scattered conversations.

"After you, Doll." Miss A. smiled as she motioned for him to open the door. He could only take a small breath and nod before he pushed the doors open.

Inside, was a meeting room a row of chairs were set up around one solitary figure in the center of the room. Situated around the room was nearly every Miss he had ever seen that owned a girl. Miss P., Miss T., Miss D., Miss S., Miss B., and even a few he did not recognize. The figure appeared to be a slender young man who was bound to the chair with a black bag around his head. From inside the bag, he could hear muffled screams.

"Good morning ladies!" Mrs. Stone called and the room fell into a quiet hush. A few people snickered as they saw him enter with them.

"Doll, from this moment on, you are forbidden to make a sound." Miss A. hissed into his ear as she strode past him.

"Mother, may I take over the proceedings?"

"Yes, you may." Mrs. Stone smiled. "Please show me how you run this house, Ms. Stone."

"Hello everyone. I've gathered every owner here today for little event. Sitting in that chair is the newest addition to Blackstone Manor. Shall we welcome them to their new life?" She smiled. Miss T. stood from her chair with a wide grin as she walked towards the figure. He flinched at each clack of heels against the tile floor.

"I would love to." With that she yanked off the hood and Peter fell to his knees as he clasped a hand around his mouth as he screamed silently in horror.

Sitting in Blackstone Manor with his hands bound behind his back and a blindfold tied around his eyes was his best friend: Daniel Wu.

He couldn't let the tears flow fast enough as he punched the ground and reeled over in sorrow. Reprisal had come swiftly and without mercy. He had played their game. He had done everything that they had wanted and yet they still had the upper hand. All of the rounds with Miss A.? All of the trials?

"Oh, she's upset." Miss T. purred as the room laughed at him. With a small little tug, she pulled a gag from his mouth.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING?!" He screamed. He hadn't heard Daniel's voice in so long. His voice was not what one would call masculine but not feminine. His black hair was unkept and longer than Peter remembered.

"Let's use our inside voice, Wu." Miss T. laughed in his face. "Or I'll get violent."

"Go fuck yourself!" He spat at her direction. "I'll fucking kick your skull in. Who the fuck are you? What the fuck is going on?"

"Oh, it's so simple. You're going to become a female sex-slave."

"Oh, is that it?" He hissed. "You're fucking with the wrong person. What did you do with Michelle? If you harmed one hair on her head, I swear to fucking god I will eviscerate you."

Even through his blurry eyes, he saw Miss T. smirk and the following blow to Daniel's face even caught him by surprise. It was brutal, pure and unchecked savagery, that collided hard with his cheek. Another quick jab caught him under the chin as he opened his mouth to scream. The chair shook before falling with a clatter backwards. He could hear Daniel's groans of pain.

"That all?" He smiled a bloody smile. "Gonna have to do so much better than that. Now answer my question, cunt."

"Danny." A woman in the right-hand corner stood up. She was seated next to Marcela and he wiped his eyes immediately to take another look. The long ebony hair, the soft and gentle blue eyes with flecks of brown, and the face of a model.

BattyBrat. The girl who had started it all. The girl who had taken him from the park on that fateful day. The girl who had ruined his life.

"Michelle?!" Daniel screamed suddenly. His voice trembled with concern while he frantically moved to find the source of her voice.

"Danny, I'm sorry but I..." She bit her bottom lip. "I'm the cause of this."

"You what?" His jaw dropped. He wanted to call out to his friend. To tell him to not say another word. To hold on to his strength.

"Daniel, our entire relationship was so I could lead you here. I'm sorry but this is how it had to go down."

"But," He stammered. "But I loved you." The room exploded into jeers and coos of at his expense.

"I know." She said as she sat down.

"Love is a poison, Mr. Wu." Mrs. Stone called out and the room fell quiet immediately. "A addicting toxin from which even the strongest men fall succumb too."

"Fuck off."

"You should watch your tone, brat." Miss A. quickly snapped. "Or else."

"Fuck." He inhaled with a grin. "Off."

"My name is Mrs. Martha Stone. I own the chair you sit on and the house in which you reside. Unfortunately, Mr. Wu this is the last time that you will be referred to as such. I have seized your cell phone, your wallet, and the contents therein." Mrs. Stone's voice was vacant of any sort of emotion. She spoke in the low tired tone of a woman of her age. But her voice oozed self-importance. A fact that made Peter hate her even more.

"So, you're robbing me?" Daniel's smirked.

"No, there is no one to rob here. From the moment you entered my front door you became property of this house. I don't mean to unnerve you, but your life has been over for a few minutes now. Every breath you take from that point is in a body that will be reformed to fit my criteria. I lack the fire that I once had. So I cannot smack you around or scream at the top of my lungs. But I do want you to know that I am not a woman with a large amount of patience. Compose yourself and think very carefully about your choices. Ms. Stone, please finish from here." Amanda nodded as she was called upon.

"Dani," Miss A. smirked as she switched to a feminine pronunciation of his name. "I could regale you with the fun facts of my household. But I would much rather do something far more hands-on. Doll, if you would give our new friend a proper Blackstone welcome."

Peter froze as all eyes fell on him. He trembled as he tried to refuse. Instead, he found nearly a sea of hands reach out to him. All attached to hungry malice-filled eyes that hurled him towards the center of the room against his will. As he was shoved into the center, he fell to his knees in front of Daniel.

"I've thought about it." His friend sighed. "I'd rather die than entertain this. You can't keep me tied-up forever. You need to sleep, eat, and shit and I'll fucking be there. I promise you that I'll eat your heart unless you kill me now." He growled.