The Rose Diaries Ch. 14

Standing outside with a cigarette in his mouth was Bartholomew. He scowled as he watched Peter approach before opening the back door. Instead of his normal look, he had one of disdain and anger.

"Throw the bitch in the back." He growled to the men as he walked back to the driver's side door flicking the cigarette butt into the distance. The men all too happily obliged throwing him into the vehicle before slamming the door shut. Peter screamed into the gag as the car pulled away from its spot and sped away.

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Despite his screams, his thrashing, and general outbursts Bartholomew never checked in on him. The limo just continued on its merry way and he dreaded their eventual destination. Even as he lay face down on the limousine's floor. It wasn't that he feared Miss A. No, wait, that was an outright lie.

He was terrified of Miss A. As any sane person would be due to her cruelty and anger. He hated her. He hated her with everything that he had. Enough to break a massive moral boundary in a vain attempt to harm her. Now, she was going to return the favor. He needed to stand ready against the inevitable torture. Whatever Miss A. could throw at him he needed to at least be ready to take it. To fight back against her with everything he had. He couldn't let her just simply win, could he?

Peter groaned loudly at the continued silence of the vehicle and was met with even more of it. Miss A. wasn't the only person he probably pissed off. He probably pissed off Miss K. as well and he knew much more about that first hand than any other person should. He didn't know if he could stand a two-pronged assault from the two of them. Truthfully, he didn't know how much more he could take of any of it. His own emotional state never had a chance to reset back to zero. He was either so mad he was physically ill or so depressed that he just felt numb. He was always swapping between the two extremes with never a moment to simply relax. He needed a reprieve somehow. He needed to force a break somewhere or he was going to go insane.

Or worse he was going to break again and become everything that Blackstone and seemingly the rest of the world wanted him to be. Even the memory of Doll gave him a sick feeling. He had never lost control of his own body before. He had not been the pilot of his own fate. But when Doll had taken control, he had lost months of his life. There was the waiting room and then there was the kitchen. He couldn't remember anything between those two points in time. It wasn't just a foggy memory either, he had become nothing. He had simply vanished.

The thought of vanishing again gave him chills down his spine. He would never let that happen again. He would never disappear again.

The car began to slow down until it came to a stop. He craned his head in attempt to see from the limousine floor but found no sights to behold. He heard the sound of shoes on dirt nearby and the backdoor flew open to reveal Bartholomew.

"Last stop." He muttered cutting the binds around Peter's legs. "Get out." Peter could hear crickets and almost taste the freshly cut lawn of suburbia. As he stepped out of the vehicle, his hunch was proven correct. They were parked in the driveway of a modest home near the end of a street. The night-time air was filled with the sound of sprinklers going off in unison as they watered the lawns of almost identical two-story homes all around. Bartholomew pushed him forward towards the front door as he carried with him a duffel bag over his shoulder. He knocked on the front door only once and stood back as it immediately swung open.

Standing in the doorway was an interesting looking girl. For one, she was taller than most and wore an annoyed scowl at the late-night visitors at her home. She had hair the color of pale ice that flowed down her shoulders like a frozen river before resting at the top of her breasts. She carried herself in a way to cried that she was far too important for them. An almost arrogant dagger-like gaze that she regarded them with her dark sapphire eyes.

She wore nothing like he was used to. Instead, it was nice to see an average even frumpy looking girl. No suits, pantsuits, or costumes. Just a tight-fitting midriff bearing black t-shirt with a cartoon sheep resting that read "Sleepy Sheepy" in letters that resembled clouds overhead and a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Yeah?" She spoke with a tone of annoyance that matched her face. She leaned against the doorframe with one hand as she held the door open with the other.

"This is for you." Bartholomew handed her the duffel bag. He reached into his coat pocket before withdrawing an envelope with a wax seal. "This too."

"Bit late for mail isn't it?" She cocked an eyebrow as she accepted both of them with a shrug. She had a mysterious air about her and she gazed at Peter in the same way that Miss K. often did. With hungry eyes that made his skin crawl. "Thank you." She offered, turning the letter over and inspecting it.

"Of course." Bartholomew nodded. "Have a wonderful evening, Miss." With that he simply turned around and walked away. It was an odd feeling for Peter. Ever since he had started this little adventure, Bartholomew would never leave him alone. Yet, he watched the car pull away from the driveway before vanishing into the evening. He stood dumbfounded, confused, and excited as he continued to watch the street for his return. As if he would return any moment as part of a cruel joke. A joke in which he was given a taste of his freedom. Then an odd thought occurred to Peter Baker.

Why was this girl so nonchalant about him being naked, bound, and gagged on her doorstep? She cleared her throat and Peter turned his gaze back to her. He gazed at her in confusion unable to either thank or curse her out. That odd question burning in the back of his mind.

"Come in." She stood aside and motioned him into the house. He stood bewildered by her until she let out a frustrated groan as she gazed up at the ceiling. Without another word, she hooked two fingers underneath his collar and pulled him inside slamming the door shut behind them.

He offered a word of resistance, muffled as it was, while she quickly relocked the door.

"Company!" She called into the house shoving him forward as she walked. The house was odd from the start. The entryway was sparsely decorated with only a bookshelf lined with odd mismatched reference books and a small table nearby on which sat a pair of keys. Next to the keys was a coat rack that hung a puffy silver coat and a leather one with a fur collar. Ahead was what appeared to be a large living room. The centerpiece, a large flat screen tv, sat on a glass stand facing what appeared to be a leather couch. Behind the couch was a small open area that held an ironing board, a washing machine, and a dryer. There were stairs to the right as well that was closer to him. Leading up to a second floor that overlooked the living room/entrance. He could make out two doors behind the balcony railing.

What struck him as odd was how clean and uniform everything was. Like she had just moved in.

"Are you listening?" She yelled again into the living room. He breathed heavily through his nose as his body tensed up.

There was something that rubbed him the wrong way about this place. He had an awful feeling about it. He flexed in the binds but found no give. So instead, he stomped a bare foot down on the floor and screamed into the gag.

"Hush." Came a woman's voice from behind the TV. It was rough, commanding, and had a heavy almost Russian accent not unlike some sort of cliché James Bond villain. "I hear you both."

"What's so important that you won't come say hello?" The girl crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.

"News." The woman answered.

"We got a letter too." The girl called back. "So, I'm just going to read it out loud and you're going to have to deal with it." She grumbled as she tore the letter open.

"Dear Charm and Luck," The girl laughed. "Ooh, she put me first!" She must have been named Charm. He already hated where this was going. Anyone with a stupid name like that meant trouble for him. He knew that.

"Read." The woman who must've been named Luck scoffed. Charm paced as she cleared her throat.

"Fifty names. That's how many I tasked you with collecting in that ledger before I would consider you. It was at thirty-five that we met face-to-face. I thought that would've sufficed but you two have always surprised me. You've added a total of sixty names to that book. A feat that does not go unnoticed. But then it occurred to me. Those are just names. Those are just numbers in a book. Why not have a more practical example? So, I give you Doll." She read stopping only at the final point.

He only had one thought at that: Fuck

Peter's mind raced, his blood burned, and he readied himself. These girls were a part of Blackstone. These girls meant him harm. He took a small step backwards as he felt Charm's gaze back on him. She glared at him placing a hand on her hip as she narrowed her eyes.

"Don't do it." She warned. "There's nowhere to run." Peter screamed back at her, but she simply continued to stare.

"What's wrong?" Luck's disembodied voice came again. "Was that all?"

"No, there's more. But I think I need to have a chat with our guest first." She walked across the room and to the left vanishing behind a wall. She quickly returned with a small stool and slammed it on to the ground. "Sit." She commanded pointing a finger to the stool. He did not dare to approach it or her. He just stood with his nostril flaring and his fists clenched behind his back. After a moment of quiet, she groaned loudly before quickly approaching him. He didn't know what to do. He just watched her approach until she stood within spitting distance of him.

Something that he absolutely would've done if not for the gag in his mouth.

"Sit." She repeated in a low growl jabbing a finger back to the stool. Peter inhaled deeply before shaking his head no.

"Okay," She shrugged. "Suit yourself." She marched back over to the stool before taking a seat. She crossed her legs as she continued to analyze his every move. He just stood strong as he had been doing. Unwilling to move an inch forward into whatever hellscape Miss A. had planned for him. She unfolded the letter in her hand before clearing her voice once more.

"I don't ask you to break her. Though, extra brownie points if you do! I just ask that you simply show me what you are capable of. Congrats on this final step, I know that you girls will make me proud. You may use your names once again if you so choose at this time as well. I'll be in touch later with some more details via chat. Sincerely, Miss Amanda Stone." She finished reading as Peter's worst fears were indeed confirmed. She wanted them to do their best? That was all? Peter rolled his eyes at that. There was no way he was going to break to these two amateurs, right?

"Want to start?" Luck called as he heard her stand up. He heard footsteps until she finally revealed herself. Charm had an average in-shape body, but Luck was something else entirely. She looked like she belonged in a fighting ring somewhere taking on all newcomers. She looked like she belonged in professional wrestling. He half expected someone to come out and hit her across the back with a folding chair.

She was at most six-foot, but she was absolutely muscular and toned for a girl or even a guy. She was half-bald with only her right-side having light blonde hair and her left having a thin layer and she had the most piercing bluish-green eyes he'd ever seen. She had on a t-shirt that had the sleeves completely torn off as well as a pair of sweatpants much like Charm.

"Start now?" Charm scoffed at the notion. "We haven't given them a tour."

"Don't need a tour."

He protested at that. Anything to delay the start of whatever torture they had planned.

"Fine but I'm doing intros and you can suck my cock if you don't like it." Charm grumbled again crumpling up the letter and tossing it away.

"Isn't that their job?" Luck smiled leaning against the staircase. Peter struggled some more at the binds behind his back.

"Doll!" Charm shouted hopping out of the stood and strutting back over to him. She hooked two fingers and there came a click from behind. She removed the collar with ease before closing it back up and twirling it on her index finger.

"Neat toy." Luck called motioning to the collar. Peter exhaled as he felt the weight of the collar finally gone for once.

"Yeah right? Amanda told me this comes standard at Blackstone. It's a shock collar capable of putting down a fully grown adult human male. Nasty little thing." Charm turned to her friend tossing the collar aside

"Don't need that." Luck cracked her knuckles. "We're better than a silly collar."

"Oh yeah. Besides, I'm not having a bitch wear someone else's collar in my house." Charm spoke flicking some hair over her shoulder as she sat down again.

He narrowed his eyes at the two of them before unclenching his fists.

"My name is Mistress Charm," She announced laying a hand on her chest. "That is Mistress Luck. From now on, we own you. I bet you're rather familiar with being someone else's bottom bitch, but you aren't nearly prepared for us. The door next to the staircase is your room. It used to Luck's gym, but we adapted it especially for breaking in disobedient bitches. Upstairs is our room, it's the leftmost door. Before we wake up and before I go to sleep, I want you on your knees in front of that door." She stood up before quickly pulling her pants down. Peter's eyes widened in shock as he resisted the urge not to run headlong into the door in an attempt to break it down.

Between Mistress Charm's legs was a large cock. A cock that belonged on a porn star rather than a girl like her. It wasn't even erect, and he was still terrified.

He glanced over at Luck who sheepishly undid her pants and dropped them to the floor as well.

Defying all logic, hers was even bigger and fucking thicker too. He could feel himself turning white as a ghost while his head swooned at the thought of what they wanted to do. Though somewhere from the deep recesses of his mind, his mouth began to water at the sight of them.

"Yeah bet you weren't prepared for that were you?" She smirked. "Luck and I are trans and to be honest that's the last I'm going to ever tell you. The next thing out of your mouth is probably going to be my cock so," She shrugged at her comment.

"Every morning and every night I'm going to use you. I'm going to paint your insides white regularly. When I do spill a drop or if you do, I expect you to lick it up like a good slut. Luck will use you too of course. Fair is fair." Luck rolled her eyes at that.

"Fair is fair." She repeated with a small nod.

"Anything I missed?" Charm glanced over to her partner as took a step closer to him.

"No?" Luck shrugged. "I think that's good."

"Awesome." Charm grinned strutting over to him with a cruel smile. Without any mercy she tore the gag free from his mouth and slapped him lightly in the face. "Let's get acquainted with that pretty mouth." He felt her hands on his shoulders before he narrowed his eyes at her and finally spoke his mind.

"There's no fucking way," He spat at her through clenched teeth. "that this is happening."

"Okay." Charm shrugged. "I'll just fuck you then."

"No." Peter growled as he took a step back again. She was just as quick to take one forward. "I am not letting you do that."

"Letting me?" She scratched her head. "I was just going to do it. There's a couch over there, and um, a bed upstairs if you like. I mean, I guess we could do it here on the floor but that's kind of weird right?"

"YOU ARE NOT DOING ANYTHING TO ME." Peter screamed in her face.

"I wasn't talking to you." Was all she said before she tossed him effortlessly forward. He stumbled as he attempted to regain his footing and not fall, but he felt a sharp kick to his back that sent him careening forward. He slammed into the cold hard ground and immediately he felt her weight upon him. She pushed down on his neck as she pinned him to the spot. Peter grit his teeth as his face was crushed against the hard-cold floor.

"Luck, you mind fetching me- "Charm couldn't finish her sentence before Peter heard something flying through the air towards them which he heard stop as it reached them

"Was on coffee table." Luck called.

"Thanks!" Charm released his face from the floor as she flipped him over on to his back. In her hands, she held what appeared to be a black silicon ring attached at both sides to a leather band. The ring was large, extremely large, and instinctively he clenched his teeth while sealing his mouth shut. She chuckled at his small display of resistance before squeezing his nose. He knew what she wanted to do. He knew what he needed to do.

There was one thing that he definitely improved upon while at Blackstone. Peter knew how to hold his breath.

He gazed at Charm's cold, unflinching eyes as he focused his mind off of the desperate need for air. His body sent panicked, confused signals to his brain as he continued to hold against her assault. She gripped his nose harder as she placed more pressure on his torso. The confusion from his body turned quickly into terror. He lungs burned and his chest grew ever tighter. She grinned at the panic that began to take hold of his face.

The pain, panic, and alarm took hold of his entire body finally causing him to open his mouth as he gasped and coughed for air. He swallowed wonderful sweet gasps of the refrigerated air before she released his nose and quickly shoved the ring into his open mouth. He gagged and sputtered as she wormed her fingers in, setting the harsh object behind his teeth. He howled in pain while his jaw was forced open for good.

He watched with tears streaming down his face that Charm fastened the band and pulled it tight. She smiled as she tugged at it.

"So, Doll," She groaned stroking her imposing womanhood. He watched it stir awake slowly rising up and away from its resting place. "Really good to know you can hold your breath."

He narrowed his eyes, clenched his fists, and watched as the spongy head of her womanhood rise up, and up, and up until it was pointed straight as an arrow towards him. He stared down the barrel of her rifle while Charm inched ever so closer to him. He screamed as he thrashed against her. But she was so much stronger.

He watched the point of her sword vanish underneath his nose until he could feel his breath struggle to escape his mouth with the hole plugged. She bit her lip as she took hold of his head between her hands and gripped it tightly.

"Fuck." She whispered. The taste of her cock rested neatly on Peter's tongue. It was salty yet somehow sweet. He could feel her prying even further down into his mouth. It slid easily past the entrance as more and more vanished from his sight. Her balls, both heavy and hairless, inched their way closer and closer to his chin. He screamed into the gag but found her only blushing harder at his sound. He could barely breathe as he nearly drowned in the puddle of saliva slowly forming from his plugged mouth.

"Okay, take a deep breath." She gasped as she adjusted her grip. He narrowed his eyes and went to shout a muffled word of disapproval. But that was enough. With a quick jerk of her hips, she thrust her full length down Peter's throat. He gagged on it as he attempted to inhale causing tears to form in his eyes and his stomach to spasm slightly. He couldn't taste anything but her. Nothing but her own sex invading his esophagus. His face slammed into her crotch burying any further resistance as well. A moan escaped from her lips as she held it there. His chest burned, his throat spasmed around her cock, and he gagged once again.