The Rose Diaries Ch. 15

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.

In addition, this chapter is strange. Here is my warning.

Thank you.

*****

Peter Baker racked his mind in search of a simple question. When was the last time he had gotten a good night's sleep? Exactly how long had it been since he had woken up refreshed and ready for the day.

Because it certainly wasn't any time recently. He could feel his body screaming for a break of any kind as his mind struggled to put out the fires of self-doubt, hatred, and exhaustion that spread over his synapses as if they were dry kindling. His mind however had simply given up. It was content to sit amongst the raging inferno of his internal frustration as everything burned down around it.

In his old life he must have overlooked the basic comforts of a good nights sleep. How it felt to lay down his head in a safe warm place and wake up the next morning in the serene comfort of his own lodgings. Of what it felt to not feel as if he wore a weight around his neck that was steadily dragging him further down into the depths of his own despair. To silence the little voice that told him day in and day out: "Just give up" somewhere deep in his mind.

He slowly opened his eyes while he allowed himself to return to the present. He was groggy, his head felt like it was filled with sand, and his body made of concrete. The room was illuminated by the bright afternoon sun. From outside the window, the few inches of glass that stood between him and freedom, he heard the sound of life. A woman was loudly yelling at someone nearby, a chorus of birds chirping each other greetings, and cars of all kinds rushing past the odd house where he was being kept.

He sighed once again focusing his eyes on the white ceiling of his captor's bedroom. He could still feel Charm's weight on top of him. Her hot breath on the nape of his neck and her hands entangled in his hair. His hands wandered to where they used to be feeling the still semi-damp patch of her concentrated lust.

Except the wet patch belonged to him didn't it? He came when she so savagely violated him. He came tied to the bed being forced awake by an intruder into his insides. He came during her vicious assault. He enjoyed it, it actually felt good, and worst of all he didn't mind it. He buried his face in his hands as he groaned quietly to himself. His stomach turned sour at the remembrance of their cruel promise.

He'd have to please Luck soon as well. He'd have to please Charm again later. He flexed his jaw and winced as a dull flash of pain coursed through him. His throat was hot and sore from the abuse last night. He added those two things to his ever-growing assortment of miseries.

There came another sigh as the numbness of his deep depression spread even further through him. What was the point in fighting? They were just going to get what they wanted from him anyway. He knew this. They knew this.

"No." His voice barely registered in the silent room. He grimaced as more pain shot through him. He needed to be far stronger. He was not going to disappear again.

"Give in but don't give up." He silently repeated the mantra. "Give in but don't give up." He repeated once again. He wondered how the others were. Were they just as troubled as he was? Were they just as miserable? He doubted Lavender was. He wished he could be like her. He wished he could be okay with the makeup, the sex, and the abuse. But he wasn't and he knew in his heart of hearts that he'd never be. He rolled over to the dresser beside the bed before pulling open the first drawer and spotted his prize. A small rolled-up bag of cough drops lay peacefully at the top of the clutter inside and without any hesitation he quickly snatched it up before tearing it open and taking a handful for himself. He popped three of them in his mouth letting the medicine do its magic. They were flavored and coated with some kind of tropical taste, but he didn't care. He just wanted the numbing magic that they provided for his battered throat. He sighed contently as he melted back into the bed. He could do it. He knew he could.

"Up!" Luck's muscular form appeared in the doorway as the door flew open. She was still barely clothed wearing only a white robe and grey boxer shorts that barely contained her endowment. Her arms were crossed on her chest while she stared daggers at him. "Get up!" She barked again.

"Can I just," He barely had time to finish his sentence before she began to aggressively advance towards him. He threw up his hands in front of his face as he scrambled on the bed to get further away. "Okay! Okay!" He yelped nearly choking on the trio of candies in his mouth.

"Makeup and clothes." She jabbed a finger towards the duffel bag at her feet. "Get ready."

"I'd rather be naked." He crossed his arms. He needed to be strong.

"Tough." She dug through the bag before pulling out another french maid's uniform. This time in a simple black and white instead of garish pink. She tossed the clothes at him before placing a pair of black high heels at the foot of the bed. "Outside in five." She simply said before walking out of the room again.

"Fuck y," He stopped as silence returned back in her place. There was no need to waste his breath on cursing her out now. He was going to need all that strength soon enough. He grimaced as he felt the soft fabric on his fingertips. Another day in another silly costume. There was no underwear to be seen amongst the pile of clothes near him, so he simply slipped into the satiny dress first. It was pitch black with white ruffled sleeves and an already attached white apron. It, of course, did not cover anymore than just below his waist ending simply in a short-ruffled skirt. He rolled his eyes as he slowly rolled up the matching white stockings with little black hearts before sliding them up his smooth pale legs.

He gazed at himself in the vanity mirror for a moment. His once light brown hair was now the color of threads of gold that was beginning to creep down his shoulders. But his face was unrecognizable to himself. It had changed so very much. His features had become softer and, in some places, even sharper as the stranglehold of his enforced femininity took hold of him. His cheeks were rosy, his lips plump and full, and his chin rounder and smooth. He grit his teeth while he flared his nostrils looking quickly away. He shot a look down at the high heels before kicking them away. He may be wearing a costume, but he'd be damned if he wore those torture devices again. He stretched again feeling his aching joints crack and pop before letting out a heavy sigh.

There was no time to feel sorry for himself. Not if he wanted to make it through whatever this was. Peter straightened his posture as he walked with the confidence of a new man out of the bedroom. He was going to need to be strong. No, he was going to be strong.

Luck and Charm were both seated below in the living room. Charm dressed in a red midriff bearing top with tight black leggings sat with a bowl of cereal and milk next to Luck. The two conversed quietly with each other speaking barely above a whisper while the unmistakable musical sting of the Harry Potter theme filled the air. He lurked above them on the top floor for as long as he could craning his head to catch even a semblance of their hushed tones.

"You think Benji's doing okay?" He finally caught wind as Charm's once cruel voice was as soft and quiet as a kitten's mewl. "Goblet of Fire was always his favorite."

"She promised." Luck answered in her own hushed tone. "He'll be fine."

"It's been months. How do we know he's not dead? Or worse."

"He's fine." Luck repeated again. "Worry about Doll."

"I'm not worried about that slut." Charm spat back.

"You know what she did."

"Yeah?" Charm placed the bowl of cereal down on the table in front of her. "Let her try. I'll cut off her balls and feed them to her." Peter gulped at the sound of that while he squeezed his legs shut out of reflex.

"No."

"You're really not concerned at all?"

"No." Luck shook her head. "I believe in us. We'll get him back."

"If it only it were up to us." Charm groaned loudly. "What's taking that little bitch so long?"

"Go check." Luck grumbled.

"Why me?" Charm sighed. "It's your turn."

"Exactly."

"Ugh, fine you lazy dick. I'll be right back." She stood up off the couch before humming the theme quietly to herself as she made her way over to the staircase. In another life, Charm might have been a dream come true. She was slender, gorgeous, and swung her hips with every step she took. In this life however she was a disgusting monster who took what she wanted and didn't care about anyone else. She turned her head and gave a small laugh as her eyes met his while he was crouched near the balcony.

"Hello sneaky." She wagged a finger at him with another laugh. "Didn't anyone tell you it was rude to eavesdrop?" Luck spun quickly around with a grimace as she gazed up at him.

"Let's not get into the topic of manners." He grumbled rolling his eyes. "I'm dressed."

"So you are." She nodded. "Are you waiting for a personal invitation to come downstairs?"

"I just didn't want to interrupt you." He lied as he stood back up.

"Ah, so you were invading my privacy out of courtesy for me. That's so sweet." Her voice dripped with sarcastic venom as she crossed her arms on her chest.

"No makeup?" Luck growled up at him. "Fix that."

"Does it really matter?" He scoffed back.

"Yes, it does. I want to see a ring of lipstick smeared around my cock while you choke on it. I want to see mascara dripping down your face as you cry, gag, and drool all over yourself." Charm's soft tone had completely vanished.

"Heels too." Luck added.

"Heels too." Charm laughed. "Go march that cute little tush back into my room and fix that so we can get on with our day."

"Whatever." He sighed. "I'll be back I guess."

"No, I've changed my mind." Charm said as she quickly ascended up the stairs. "I'm going to do your makeup."

"Good." Luck called from downstairs. "Five minutes."

"I'll need two." Charm laughed. She walked up to him with an eager stride before planting a small kiss on his cheek before he could react. He clasped a hand over the spot as his cheeks burned with embarrassment but she simply laughed again at that before taking his hands and leading him back into the bedroom with a strong tug. He had no choice but to go along with her. No choice but to obey her commands.

She sat him down in front of the vanity while she bent down over the duffel bag. Her back was completely to him as she wiggled her butt while she continued to hum digging eagerly through the bag.

"Let's see." She murmured. He glanced quickly at the vanity for anything to defend himself. If he could make a stand here, then he could possibly break the window in the bedroom and escape. He was looking at this situation completely wrong.

This wasn't Blackstone. This was some random suburban neighborhood. If he ran out into the streets screaming bloody murder, then he could attract help! Carefully and quietly he scooped up a glass container from the vanity and clutched it tightly raising ever so slowly out of the seat.

He didn't let the thought of his actions have even a moment in his mind before he swung the bottle down at Charm's head. He was barely at the descent of his swing before she moved deftly out of the way grabbing hold of his wrist in the process. She pulled him towards her, and the next thing Peter knew was that he was tumbling over and landing flat on to his back with a heavy loud thud with the bottle landing neatly next to him.

"Some notes." She clicked her tongue dismissively as she sat on top of his chest. "Not only am I faster, stronger, and just overall better than you. I also saw your reflection in both the window and the TV. But also, did me showing you sixty other fucking boys in your exact position not even register with you?"

"Fuck you." He groaned as his body screamed out in agony once more.

"Also, that is a fucking expensive bottle of perfume you just tried to attack me with. Like probably my favorite one too. So, could you fucking just not?"

"Charm!" Luck yelled from downstairs.

"It's okay! I'm okay!" She yelled back. "Be down in a sec!" He struggled under her as she rolled her eyes. "It was late last night, and I was tired. It's not happening. You are not going to win. Stop being a brat and accept that."

"Fuck you." He growled through clenched teeth. He narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils. He would never give up.

"There's a lot of stupid bullshit that I have to put up with and you? You're not going to be one of them. Funny thing is that you can think I'm mean and terrible all you like but Mistress Luck? She's even fucking worse than me. I'm the good cop here."

"Okay." He scoffed rolling his eyes. "You done?"

"No, I'm fucking not." She growled. "I just wanted to put a little bit of makeup on you. Literally not the end of the world. Yet you tried to kill me over it?"

"You fucking raped me." He spit through clenched teeth. He clenched his fists at his sides.

"Okay that's just wrong." Charm's voice wasn't even mad. It was like she was just slighted by his accusations. "I fucked you, okay?" She jabbed a finger in his face. "You want to know what being raped feels like, Doll?"

Before her words could even register in his mind, she was off of him in a flash. The initial surge of panic surged inwards becoming cool and still while his eyes steadily widened in response. The world drained of color and sound until he could only see Charm's arms taking hold of his hips with a cold hard stare. She moved in slow motion to him. Her grip grew only tighter on his body as she yanked his legs up and on to her shoulders. His brain fired off so many commands and yet he felt nothing respond to its call to action. Charm's stare grew only more intense by the passing moment as he watched the bulge in her leggings begin to grow larger and larger. Quickly, she released him for just a moment to yank her womanhood free from its hiding place. Even quicker, Peter's body screamed to life.

He didn't say a single word before then. But in a voice and words that wasn't exactly his own he said,

"I'm sorry."

Charm stopped. Her eyes lighting up as the cold statuesque face began to chip and crack revealing the woman underneath.

"I was wrong. Mistress, please show me how to do my makeup." He couldn't believe his own ears. His voice even softened by the abuse of last evening was never as soft as it had been just now. It had never been so sweet sounding. Or so melodic or beautiful before.

"Huh." She muttered rubbing her chin. "Why now?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. His voice had finally begun to return to its normal timbre.

"So, you attempt to kill me and then decide to be sweet?"

"Don't do this." He swallowed hard. "Don't hurt me."

"Hurt you?" Charm scoffed. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Charm-"Her words quickly proved that they had no merit as she struck him across the face. His cheek stung with the impact and he could taste the slight tang of blood on his lip.

"Mistress Charm." She smiled. "Okay, Doll?"

"Sure." He bit his tongue to keep from lashing out again.

"Do you often fuck with your owners like this?"

"Like what?"

"Never mind." She shook her head as she got back to her feet and extended a hand down towards him. He looked at it for a moment before shaking his head no.

"Can I be honest with you?" He muttered laying his head fully down on the plush carpet. Ye couldn't feel anything aside from the pain all over his damn body. His throat ached, his bottom and back was bruised, and he didn't even want to think about his fucking arms.

"Can you?" Mistress Charm smirked.

"I don't want to move." He sighed.

"What a revelation." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm trying." He groaned. "I'm just in so much pain." She gazed down at him before walking over to the vanity with a nod.

"Okay." She nodded again. "What can I do for you?"

He balked at her response. She didn't mock him, insult him, or demean him. Instead, she just continued to gaze at his prone form with a twinkle of concern in her eyes.

"What?" He couldn't help but voice is his shock at her words.

"Can I be honest with you?" She asked and he could do nothing but nod his head.

"Yeah."

"I feel bad for you and I think that's because you haven't had anyone actually care about you in awhile." She sighed sadly.

"Ouch." Was all he could say.

"I feel like you need a friend."

"And that friend, should of all people, be you?"

"Sure." She nodded again with a smile. "Who else?"

"You know what," He sighed shaking his head. "You're right." He admitted. He needed something, anything, to go his way. He was sick of the torture, abuse, and anger that anyone who ever saw him threw his way. He hated it, hated them, and hated himself. So unfortunately, she was actually right.

"I am?" She gasped clearly taken aback by his confession. Her watched the confusion and shock bubble to the surface on her face as she gave a small giggle.

"Yeah."

"So how can I help?"

"Think I can spare the heels for now?" He groaned.

"Yeah sure! I guess we aren't going anywhere so it's okay if you don't wear shoes inside." She smiled.

"Thank you, Mistress Charm." He gave his best warm smile back to her.

"Let me talk to Luck but why don't you get back into bed?"

"Really?"

"Yeah." Mistress Charm stood from her chair with warm welcoming smile as she departed the room quickly. He sighed deeply while he got back to his own feet with a strained groan. He wobbled on his own two legs for a moment before straightening his back out and walking the three feet to the large bed behind him. He had barely gotten out of it today and yet he felt like he could fall back asleep at any moment. It felt like exhaustion was just an old friend coming to visit. Or perhaps an annoying family member that slept on his couch without notice.

He gazed back at the young girl reflected in the tv screen and blinked. Even after all these times staring back at himself, he still couldn't see his reflection. There was no way that just in a few months' time that this was how he looked. He lacked any and all hair from his eyebrows down. It seemed as if they just stopped growing completely. He tried to imagine himself in the reflection instead. His old shaggy brown hair, the random peach fuzz of a beard that clung to his chin and dressed in his slacks and green polo shirt.

He wasn't sure if it was a weekday or weekend. But a cursory glance at the clock in front of him told him that it was a quarter past noon. He'd be well into his shift by now and dreaming of the microwavable tv dinner that he had stashed in the employee breakroom for lunch. His daydreams would be cut short by a new client to help or by Ted bringing up the prospect of grabbing fast food instead.

His stomach growled angrily at his thoughts and he sucked in air between his teeth. The images of Ted's strong form melting away to thoughts of eggs so fluffy that he could fall asleep on them covered with blankets of melted cheddar cheese. They were scrambled, poached, fried, on rolls, on plates, or just floating through his mind. His stomach growled again but he couldn't help but laugh at his stupid thoughts. He heard footsteps on the stairs until Charm emerged with a bowl, a box of cereal, a tub of ice cream, and a jug of whole milk. She gave a small smile as she approached the bed and laid them down next to him. He glanced at the colorful cardboard box of sugary breakfast cereal and resisted about twenty urges not to tear the box open before dumping the entire thing into his awaiting mouth.