The Rose Diaries Ch. 22

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 3 will have moments of intense physical violence. This chapter is the darkest chapter of the entire story.

Act 3 is also the shortest being only three chapters long.

Thank you.

*****

In the afterglow of his dreams being realized, in the instant that his egress from Blackstone drew nearer and nearer he came to his own final decision of his comrade's plans. Lily, the beautiful intelligent and clever bastard brushed a long lock of ruby hair from her eyes as she cracked open the small black book. He could taste the anticipation in the air. He could feel the hope that simmered in each and every one of their souls. He watched as she poured over the book with a slight smile before returning with his curious glance with a smile of her own.

"So, Peter, you ready?"

"Ready for what?" He asked as he stood up from the couch with a groan.

"I'm going to brief you on the plan. If you betray me, I'll kill you. You got it? Don't go turning back into that monster now." Even with the slight joy in her eyes, her tone was anything but. It was a serious as could be and he knew that Lily would be more than up for the task of ending his life should it come to it.

But would it? He had gone through hell and back recently and between his endless naps that stretched for days, his unyielding despair, and his pure horror at the very idea of his actions towards his best friend but she had yet to show her face. Even in his dreams, when he had them, she had yet to appear once more.

Was Doll gone? Had he finally vanquished whatever part of him that had broken when he was raped in the mirror room? When he was defiled in the waiting room? How much of it was delusion and how much of it had been fact? These questions plagued his every step as he came ever closer to his potential killer.

But he bared her no ill will. He did not hate Lily. Instead, he trusted her to do what had to be done. He did not know how long she had been in this hell. How she had survived for years pretending to be something that she wasn't. She had painted scenes of horror, devoted her soul to Blackstone in her art, and was still treated as a plaything. In all that time, she had stayed strong and true to herself. To her true mission and that was truly admirable.

So, if he had to die at her hands then so be it.

"Yeah." He nodded. "If I turn back into that thing then go ahead and just slit my throat."

"I'll remember that. Listen, we do not have a lot of time. On the next full moon, we will get out of Blackstone." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Right." He nodded. "So, what's the plan?"

"This," She jabbed a finger towards the book. "This is Juniper's diary."

"Juniper?" He nearly took a step back. "But she's died years, ago right?"

"No, she died last year. The thing you have to understand about Juniper was not stupid. Do you know what killed Juniper?"

"Didn't she kill herself?"

"No not that." She shook her head with a sigh. "Juniper died because she attempted to escape, Peter."

"That does not fill me with confidence."

"Okay then how about this? Juniper died on after her third successful escape plan. She only got caught because she hesitated. The Misses think she attempted it once but what they don't know is that Juniper got out three other times and recorded all her notes."

"Wow." His eyes grew wide as he couldn't help but nod. "That's incredible." His voice could barely contain the awe that he felt deep in his heart at her success. Doing it once made his heart nearly stop but three fucking times? He couldn't help but wonder if Blackstone had kidnapped Houdini instead.

"Yeah, it was impressive. The information in here is vital to my plan. Unfortunately, I do not have time to go over it in full. You see, this room doesn't have cameras due to the fact that some of the old masters of Blackstone used this room for some real shady shit. Now, Miss A. knows this and so do the Misses, but they don't know that we do. We've been in here for less than a minute, Peter so we have to get out of here before three minutes or they'll start suspecting us. Anyway, the plan is for all of us to escape. You trust me, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Let's do it."

"There's just one thing, Rose." Her voice trailed off as she whispered something under her breath.

"What?"

"Um," She paused as she rubbed her arm. "Jade isn't coming."

"WHAT?" He growled as he lunged at her. "The fuck do you mean?"

"Jade doesn't have a room and likely is the object of the Misses' attention. They will likely never let her leave her sight."

"So?" He grabbed hold of her collar as he pulled her in closer. "You suggesting we leave Daniel behind?"

"Yes." Lily sighed.

He did not stand a chance of quelling the rage in his heart. The very idea of not only putting his friend in Blackstone's crosshairs but then ditching him to this cruel fate was simply too much for Peter Baker to bear. Before he could stop himself, before reason could prevail over his passions his right hand curled into a fist and in an instant, he connected with Lily's beautiful face with a vicious punch.

There was a moment of chaos that took hold in their tightly knit group. As his anger stoked the flames of the room's unease and confusion. Belle didn't even have a chance to respond before he connected with a second blow to her chest. His eyes blurry with tears, snot running down his face, and his teeth gnashing against each other as his fury ignited in a glorious explosion of rage.

She threw her hands up to block his assault stumbling ever so slightly as the chair behind her fell to the floor. Lavender took a step towards him as he threw blow after blow not caring if they even connected. He wanted to scream, to yell, to curse but found his mind stagnated by the moment. Belle shoved Lily out of the way of another blow before taking it herself. Unlike his intended target, Belle had no protection nor room to move. He felt her flesh under his fist, and he raised his arm to continue his attack when Lavender grabbed him from behind and before he knew it, he was completely subdued.

As the shock of the attack wore off, he panted for breath as he thrashed in her arms. There were no words exchanged just looks of horror and yet understanding. Lily crouched to the ground holding her reddened cheek as he lunged towards her in vain.

"I know," She spoke sadly. "I know that this is a big ask."

"NO." He hissed. "I refuse!"

"Peter, you have to. It's either leave him behind or die here. It's not fair and I hate asking you, but I need to you to decide. He'll be with the Misses until he breaks. If what I saw today was any indication, we have weeks not months until then. He seems like a fighter, your friend, right? But even the strongest of us break down eventually. He won't be in a room of his own. If we attempt to save him, we can fuck everyone over. You need to decide, Peter. Are we leaving without you?"

"I can't do that." His anger gave way to something far more potent. "I don't know if I can even do that."

"I know it's a tough choice. Look man, I wish there was another way but there isn't. I'm so sorry, Peter. I really am."

"I-I can't." He whimpered quietly. "Please Lily."

"We don't have to abandon him." Lavender sighed from behind. "We can get help. If we escape from Blackstone, then we can go public and get the authorities to raid this place and shut it the fuck down."

"Right!" Lily nodded. "But we can't do that unless you come with us. You know everything about him. You can find your friends and prove that this hellhole exists."

"I-I guess." Peter nodded slowly. "I guess that works."

"No one is being left behind, Peter." Belle added with a cough. "No man left behind."

"Okay." He exhaled loudly as he caught his breath. "I can do this."

"Good, cause it's going down with or without you. On the night of the full moon, dress as masculine as you can and warm as you can. We don't know how long we'll be running for. Also grab as much jewelry as you can. There's no way this place gave us costume jewelry and we're gonna need some cash if we do succeed."

He gave another small nod to Lily and Lavender released him from her hold. He wiped his eyes once more removing more of the makeup he had so carefully done before and kept on nodding.

"Okay." He said finally.

"Great cause that was two minutes, so we need to get the fuck out of here. You should fix your makeup still Rose."

"Yeah, I can do that." He sighed as he sniffled once more. "Sorry for hitting you, Lily."

"That's okay. I'm just glad to have you aboard the plan."

"Me too. I get it now though."

"Oh yeah?" She asked as she folded her arms.

"It's one hell of a fucking unusual day."

Blackstone Manor

Room 3E

Several Weeks Later

He stirred quietly in his bed as the grasp of slumber still clung to his eyes. Miss K. and R. had been very particular with him getting a full eight hours of sleep. It still felt odd to hear them call him by his new name. He had been obedient, sweet, and subservient in the past weeks ever since Lily had briefed him in the odd reading room. For his actions, he was rewarded with more and more affection even from the cold-hearted Miss A. who couldn't help but acknowledge his rising total points. He had received for his actions, a copy of The Lord of the Rings and the first four seasons of Game of Thrones.

It was interesting to see Miss P. attempt to rationalize his reward to his owners. She argued that a proper girl would never indulge in such violent and action filled fantasies. Instead, she offered that he could enjoy a bit of culture and class. But he was able to prevail over her strange notions by claiming that these things were beloved by many girls and that the entertainment choices he had made would not change who he was as a girl of this house. Satisfied with the answer, he received his DVDs and escaped into them as he counted down the days.

It was almost dangerously easy to fall into routine. He would wake up, brush his teeth, get ready, go to his lessons, eat lunch, go to more lessons, serve dinner then eat afterwards, shower then go to bed. Sometimes, he'd sneak in an episode or two before sleeping but many days were the same.

Even in the fantastical worlds of political intrigue, romance, bloodlust, and death he still never felt it was any shred as threatening as his life in Blackstone had been. In fact, Peter Baker would have welcomed the chance to duel amongst the lords and ladies of Westeros. To trade sharp words and hidden knives in the dark as they played about their wicked machinations. He would have gladly accepted the opportunity to be an adventurer against the ultimate evil in Middle-Earth. To fight ring-wraiths, urk-hai, and giant fucking spiders. If Blackstone was correct, could he kill the Witch-King? After all, according to the Misses he was no man.

It was here in this blessed monotony that the sands of time effortlessly passed through his fingers nearly in the blink of an eye.

His bedroom was cloaked in night and the sounds of Blackstone were no more. He had rarely ever woken up while it was still dark. Usually, he had slept through the entire evening without a care in the world. But as he leaned forward and yawned, he saw the telltale sign of the promised evening.

A bright full moon that hung high in the sky shedding silvery light down over the previously verdant stretch of trees beyond and into the darkness of the manor. He crept out of bed as he admired the starlight sky for just a moment. He had rarely found pleasure in staring at the sights beyond his touch here. It only made him long further for home but instead, he found tonight to be rather peaceful and as he stared out into the void of space and the light of the stars beyond, he couldn't help but feel his lips curl into a small smile.

But as quickly as his mind roused from its slumber, the peace began to fade and quickly madness gripped his heart.

He leapt over the bed and nearly sprinted towards the closet door. He had usual been careful when stripping out of his evening wear. The delicate silk fabrics, the satin nighties, all of it lighter than air on his skin. But on this evening, he ripped them from his body leaving only the delicate shreds on his floor. He slammed his hand on the light switch and squeezed his eyes shut before the light could blind him. With a whirl, he slid the door shut behind him and snagged his only purse hanging from beside the door. Carefully, he set it on top of a nearby chest and then spun on his heels.

His eyes darted around the small room as he sought out anything that did not leave him exposed. His closet, his godforsaken closet, contained the clothes of his bearing of a whore. Between the skirts, dresses, and frills he could not find anything that even resembled the word masculine. Finally, he settled on a pair of tight-fitting yoga pants and a black t-shirt that read in bright pink bubbly letters, "Yes, Daddy?". He grimaced as he slipped into a pair of boy shorts and then frantically assembled the rest of his not-so-androgynous outfit. Finally, he took hold of a pair of ballerina flats, the only shoes in his closet that did not have a fucking heel and slipped them on.

He turned once more returning to the bag and opened it without a moment of hesitation. He didn't discern whether or not the items on the carousel were real but with greedy hands he scooped up handful after handful of glittering jewelry fit for a queen and dumped them haphazardly into the open bag. He continued until the bag was nearly full before stopping for a single breath.

But that was all it took for his anxieties to take root. He felt his entire body tremble, his teeth chatter, and his hands begin to shake. He fell quickly to his knees as tears flowed from his eyes. Could he even do this? Failure was certain death or perhaps even worse. He had done a lot of terribly dumb things in his life, but would this be the dumbest? A bead of sweat rolled down his face as he dwelled on the very idea of recapture. If he were to abandon the plan, to keep himself from falling victim to the Misses deadly response, then perhaps he would be better off. His hands shook even more as he slowly opened the door back to the dark room once more. He stood erect against the golden light that poured from behind and blanketed his soft pink bedroom with it's rays. But his eyes couldn't seem to glance from the long slender shadow that was cast over the bed and to the edge of the small reading nook he never once used in his long stay here. How funny it was. That he had spent what had felt like an eternity in the pastel nightmare and yet there were still crevasses that he had yet to explore and depths he had yet to plunge.

A small chill washed over him as more and more sweat clung to his forehead. His stomach turned angrily as he grasped to the doorframe. He began to burn up as more and more flashes of heat robbed him further of any strength that he could cling to. His clothes grew tighter as they gripped to his damp skin.

It came suddenly. The physical manifestation of his fear and regret. He doubled over as he felt the sick bubbling at the back of his throat. With another heave, he expelled the contents of his possibly final meal on to the carpet beside his bed. His esophagus burned as he retched once more before panting for breath as saliva poured from his open mouth. He took mouthfuls of the sweet night air as he caught himself from falling over. He groaned loudly as he spat the remaining taste from further infecting his tongue and shakily returned to an upright position.

His hands. His stupid fucking hands would not stop shaking. Every single second he trembled like a leaf as he took step after step closer to the door. He knew the plan. He knew what he had to do.

A small misstep sent him stumbling and into the vanity mirror which shook violently with the impact. It was dark still, yet he could tell just be the sound of the falling objects exactly which ones were disturbed from their resting places. Hours of his life, days of his life, months of his very existence wasted in front of the shining polished mirror adjusting his appearance for the horrors of the day and yet, somewhere deep within him, he couldn't help but feel a bit sad at leaving his routine behind.

The very idea made his stomach turn once again and he retched violently as he felt the acidic burning bile siting on the back of his throat. He clutched the back of the chair with a grimace and he grit his teeth. He would not falter. He would not fail. He would not be the very thing that held everyone else back from their escape from this hellhole. It had been six months since his initial abduction or at least it had been at least six months. The emerald ocean of trees had begun to change colors and shed their ancient leaves in preparation for the far colder months ahead.

If there was one thing that did not change, Peter hated the wintry months. When everything began to dull and fade. Winter was the season of depression, of regret, and of death. To him, it was a bad omen and fall? Fall was just as bad. It was a insidious poison that led to the cold death that awaited everyone. Disguised as warm colors, hot beverages, and large gatherings and everyone that he had known eagerly ate it up. He had worked retail after all. He knew far more than anyone how terrible the holiday season truly was. The constant dull pounding of his heart that filled his ears brought him back to his senses. With every passing moment, he felt the beat increase and increase as more and more waves of heat hit him.

He slowly turned back towards his bedroom when a horrible sound pierced the still evening air. A knock. A simple loud rapping sound from outside of his door. His eyes widened as his legs nearly buckled from underneath him. He didn't dare answer. Not that he could have anyway. Slowly, the brass knob began to turn every so slightly until he heard the loud click of the lock disengaging and the door began to creak open. In the silence, the only thing he could hear was the beating of his own heart. As the door swung open fully, he fell backwards and to the ground as he could barely form a word. Either death or salvation awaited him now and he was not ready for either.

Two silhouettes stood in the threshold between his room and the third floor and it wasn't until the golden light bathed over their shadowed form that he could take a exhale a deep breath of relief. Lily and Belle glanced down at him with an almost confused look on both of their faces. Both of them wore tight fitting dark ensembles comprised of skinny jeans, flats, and the odd sweatshirt. He had never seen Belle clothed before. Her delicate form concealed from view as she tugged awkwardly at her collar. With every second, she couldn't help but fidget and tug at the clothes that clung to her body. In accordance to her plan, Belle carried a large purse and Lily had cylindrical case slung over her right shoulder. As he opened his mouth to speak, Lily pulled something from her pocket and his eyes widened.

There were two very wrong things about her. For one, she held a collar remote extended towards him and the second...

Her hands, arms, and torso were covered in blood.

Before he could process the visage before him, he had another terrible thought. Had the Misses sent her to punish him? Had this all been an elaborate joke? He opened his mouth to speak as she clicked a button and he readied himself for the oncoming wave of pain.