Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Rose by Salem (MF FF mc nc viol hist cheat)
Summary: After being kidnapped, Rose's behavior takes a strange turn.

   *If you have anything to say about my story, I'd like to hear it.*

   *w_itchtrial@hotmail.com*

   Chapter Two

   Paul was sitting at the table when his brother strolled into the dining
room.  The pistol rested between his hands, unloaded.  Outside, the last
shade of dusk was fading from the sky, but his mind was not on collecting
the ransom.  The two of them had business to settle.

   Russ picked up the deck of playing cards and grinned.  "Care for another
game?  I'm on a lucky streak, so I just might beat you this time."

   Paul shook his head.  "I know what you've been doing."

   Russell smirked and pulled a chair out.  "I'm not surprised.  That doll
took a while to warm up, but when she's hot, she's *loud*." He began to
shuffle.  "I hope it didn't upset Margaret, but when you get an opportunity
like that..."

   Paul grabbed the deck from him and set it aside.  "She's our hostage,
Russ.  We kidnapped her.  I don't care how much of a looker she is, and you
shouldn't, either."

   His brother leaned back in his chair and shrugged.  "Paul, she made a
pass at me.  Rose did it...not me.  I'm telling you, she's a party girl. 
She acts all prim and proper, but she has a whole other side to her.  You
saw how she was last night."

   "It doesn't matter, Russ!" Paul took a deep breath, forcing himself to
calm down.  "Right now, she made a pass at you.  When she's back with her
husband, she might tell a very different story.  And if she claims it was
rape..."

   Russell looked away, and then he sighed.  "Oh, Christ.  I'm sorry, Paul.
I didn't even think.  She was just so..." He stared at the table for a
moment, frowning.  "Look, there's no reason Matheson ever has to know. 
She'll probably just keep her mouth shut.  These rich people, they're all
about keeping up appearances, right?"

   Paul nodded, feeling anxious and tired.  "I hope you're right.  But
something's not right about all of this, and we can't afford to make any
more mistakes.  I have to go collect the ransom tonight, so you have to
watch her."

   He leaned forward with dead set eyes.  "And Russ...you have to be smart
about it.  If she makes another pass, just ignore her.  No drinking...and
no nookie.  Just wait for me to get back."

   Russell nodded nervously.  "Yeah, Paul.  Don't worry about it.  I won't
let it happen again."

   Paul glanced out the window and frowned.  *What have we gotten ourselves
into?*



   Rose opened her eyes and glanced sleepily around the bedroom.  She was
lying on the bed in only her brassiere and panties, her clothes strewn on
the floor.  *I have to get out of here.* The thought was sobering, and she
immediately sat up.

   She knew all too well what had happened to her.  They had taken
possession of her mind, forcing her to make choices that were not her own.
They had turned her into one of them, when they represented everything that
she despised.  *Run, Rose.  Now's your chance.  Get away while you still
can.*

   Rose felt panic threatening to take hold, but she forced herself to stop
and think.  Paul might be collecting the ransom, but Russell had to be
around here somewhere, and he would not let her go willingly.  Frantic, she
searched her surroundings for anything that would prove useful.  Then her
eyes fixed on something across the room.  The rifle was still leaning
against the wall.

   Grinning in triumph, Rose crawled off of the bed and grabbed the gun. 
After carefully cocking it, she opened the door and crept out into the
hallway.  If anyone could hear her, there was no sign of it.

   Rose hurried into the living room and headed straight for the front
door. "Hey, what do you..." She spun and fell against the door, aiming the
rifle in the direction of the voice.  Russell was sitting on the sofa, his
eyes wide.  "Oh, god.  Oh, god.  Rose..."

   Her heart thudded in her chest, and she gripped the gun tightly.  "I
won't let you do it to me."

   He shook his head, looking as frantic as she felt.  "I don't know what
you're talking about."

   Rose grimaced, fingering the trigger.  Everything felt distant somehow,
but she was still terrified.  "I know who I am.  Nothing will change that.
Not ever.  Not ever again."

   Russell stood up slowly, his hands raised.  "Okay, Rose.  It's okay. 
Look, Paul will be back soon, and then he'll take you home." He managed a
smile.  "I promise."

   "I'm sorry." Rose pulled the trigger, and then Russell collapsed back
onto the couch.  The rifle recoiled, and she winced as it struck her in the
shoulder.  Except for the pain, she felt empty inside.  *I'm sorry.*

   "Russell?" Rose turned to find Margaret at the edge of the hallway,
staring blankly at the body.  "Is he..." She looked at the gun, and tears
formed in her eyes.  "You killed Russ?  Why?"

   Rose shook her head defiantly, on the verge of tears herself.  "You
don't do things like this to people.  They were using me, and...this is not
my fault!"

   Margaret winced.  "I'm sorry, Rose.  Please don't....don't kill me.  I
never wanted this to happen.  You can just walk away, and I won't stop you.
Please."

   *She's right.  You need to leave.  Now.* Rose knew that this was true.
Time was running out for her, and she could only cause more damage by
staying.  If she stayed, she would become like them.

   *She looks so much like Virginia...*



   The dark alley was shielded from the worst of the night's bitter wind,
but Paul's face was still numb.  He watched from behind some boxes as Mr.
Matheson passed through the alley, briefcase in hand.  The man seemed not
so much frightened as disgusted.

   Paul pushed Rose's husband up against a brick wall, nearly knocking his
fedora off.  He aimed the pistol at the back of Walter's head.  "Don't try
anything, Mr.  Matheson.  Don't even look at me, for your own safety."

   Walter nodded slightly and let the briefcase fall on the ground.  "The
money's all there.  Just give me my wife back."

   Paul hesitated, and then he shook his head.  As much as he wanted this
to be over, he refused to move forward blind.  "Before I even think about
it, I want to know what's going on."

   Walter frowned, clearly nervous.  "I don't know what you mean."

   "I can tell that you're lying, Mr.  Matheson.  Your wife's behavior
started changing last night.  It was like she became a completely different
person.  I want to know why." He sighed.  "Is she crazy?"

   Walter bit his lip.  "It's none of your concern."

   "It became my concern when she entered my house."

   He glared bitterly at the wall.  "And whose fault is that?"

   Frustrated, Paul pressed the muzzle against Walter's head.  "Quit
stalling, and tell me the truth."

   After a moment, Walter nodded.  "All right.  You win.  Originally, Rose
was not everything her parents could have hoped her to be.  As a teenager
and young lady, she was wild and rebellious, lacking in social graces.  She
drank heavily and danced in a lewd fashion.  She was enamored with jazz, in
all of its debauchery.  Worse yet, she would take boys to bed with her. 
Poor boys."

   Paul smiled coldly.  "And I bet you wished it was you."

   Walter sneered.  "Rose was a beautiful woman from a prestigious family,
and I was quite smitten with her.  But she was out of control.  Her family
did everything they could to cover up her many transgressions, but then she
went too far.  She committed an act so debased, so heinous, that her father
could not stand by and do nothing."

   This was taking longer than Paul had anticipated.  "What are you talking
about?"

   Walter sighed.  "Rose's father...he found her in bed with another woman.
She was not even ashamed of it.  She dared to claim that she was in love,
as if such a thing were possible.  So her father came to my father, asking
for a medicine that would treat her perversion."

   Paul shook his head, frowning.  "You're telling me that this is all
because she went off her medication?"

   "In a manner of speaking.  My father knew of a drug that would place a
person in a trance.  You might liken it to hypnosis, if you know what that
is, although I am referring to something much more powerful.  While under
this trance, Rose could be directed to think and behave in whatever manner
was suggested to her.  It worked wonders on her, transforming her into the
charming, sophisticated socialite that you have no doubt witnessed."

   Paul glared at him.  "I don't believe any of this."

   Walter smirked, his eyes burning with resentment.  "You could tell that
I was lying before, so you must know that I am not lying now. 
Unfortunately, the drug's influence proved temporary.  After only a couple
of days without treatment, Rose would begin to act erratic, even
licentious. Her father agreed that I should marry her, so that I could
provide her with constant supervision and moral guidance."

   "And so, for more than three years now, Rose has been given supplemental
treatments every thirty-six hours." He paused and shook his head.  "Until
now.  You have disrupted her schedule, and what you are witnessing are the
inevitable consequences.  Now could we please get this over with, so that I
can fix the damage that you have caused?"

   Paul shook his head in disbelief.  "You expect me to hand her over to
you, so you can mess with her mind again?  You're a sick man."

   Walter hissed in outrage.  "No, she's sick.  Don't you understand?  Rose
was treated because she was depraved.  She crossed a line that you simply
do not cross.  The old Rose was nothing but a burden to her family, a black
sheep.  It was for the good of everyone that she was treated and
reintroduced into society.  No one wants her the way that she was, except
to indulge their own sexual fantasies."

   Paul felt ill.  "You don't care about any of that, you low-life.  You
just want a beautiful wife that you can control."

   Walter's eyes widened.  "And I earned that!  She's mine!  I have spent
years providing for her in every possible way.  I give her love, attention,
more money than I can afford to part with.  I watch over her and protect
her from herself, when others would use her and throw her away."

   "And who are you to question me?  What gives you the right, when you
stole her freedom for your own selfish needs?  She's *my* wife.  She
belongs to me.  You can't have her."

   Paul shook his head, disgusted.  "You're not going near her again."

   "No, wait!  Listen to me, for your own sake.  Rose was always one to act
out, to ignore social conventions.  After years of being forced into a life
that she did not ask for, there's no telling what she's capable of.  You
don't want that.  I love her.  I always have.  Let me take care of her."

   "Goodbye, Mr.  Matheson." Paul raised the pistol and slammed its butt
against Walter's head.



   In the bedroom, two of the dining room chairs were now facing each
other. Rose sat in the one nearest the door, still wearing a silk brassiere
and step-in panties.  Her eyes studied Margaret's blissful face.  She
adored every part of this face, from her soft lips to the tight curls of
hair that spilled over her forehead.  She wanted to gaze into Margaret's
misty blue eyes, but they were closed.

   The radio was playing softly in the background, a song that Rose did not
recognize.  Her purse was sitting on the dresser, and beside it stood what
looked like an empty perfume bottle.  Rose had watched as Margaret
swallowed its contents, confused and frightened.  Such emotions were now
beyond her.

   The urge to kiss Margaret was strong, but Rose stayed focused on the
task at hand.  She spoke carefully and evenly, repeating herself for
emphasis.  She was not sure if this would work, having no memory of her own
treatments, but she had to try.  This was her one chance to turn back the
clock.  *Virginia...*



   Virginia was the daughter of one of the Fairmont's servants, and so she
had followed her mother's path and become an upstairs maid.  Rose and she
were both eighteen, and Rose had liked her from the start.  She was smart
and sincere, almost touching in her compassion for others.  Most
importantly, she was not wealthy and had no interest in social status.

   It seemed that the two of them could talk about anything, and they
shared almost every secret with each other.  There was no one whose company
Rose enjoyed more.  Her family disapproved of their friendship, but no more
so than any of Rose's other activities.  Mostly, they ignored the girl.

   Virginia often visited the jazz clubs with Rose, but she never took any
interest in the men that Rose would bed.  Rose figured out why easily
enough, and yet she never said a word.  It was the one thing that went
unspoken between them.

   As time passed, though, Rose grew bored with the company of men.  It
seemed that they were interested in only one thing, even if it was
something that she enjoyed immensely.  She would always find herself
looking to Virginia for intellectual and emotional satisfaction.  One
night, she surprised both Virginia and herself with a kiss.  The next
night, she took her friend by the hand and led her to bed.

   In Virginia's arms, Rose found pleasure she had never thought possible.
It was not because she preferred women, although they offered their own
forbidden pleasures.  It was because Virginia loved her, because their time
together was never just a physical union.  She grew to love every inch of
Virginia's body.

   During the next few months, they explored each other in ways they never
had before.  When they weren't making love, they were often dancing in
Rose's bedroom, their warm bodies pressed to each other.  She believed that
they would never be apart.

   Then Rose's father had discovered the truth, and everything had changed.
She realized now what had really happened, and she hated them for it.  They
killed Virginia.  In a way, they tried to kill her, too.



   Rose knelt down before a still entranced Margaret and took hold of her
hands.  "I'm sorry about Russell.  I really am.  But I had to do it.  He
would have sent me back, and I can never go back."

   She leaned forward, supporting herself on Margaret's lap.  "My family
took someone away from me.  Someone very special.  I need her back.  I
can't stay here much longer, but for a while, we can be together again. 
For a while, you will be my Virginia." She took a deep breath.  "Wake up,
Virginia.  Please come back to me."

   Margaret's eyes fluttered open, and she gave Rose a dreamy smile. 
"Rose...I love you, Rose."

   Tears welled up in Rose's eyes.  "I love you too, Virginia.  We've been
apart for too long."

   For a while, they stared lovingly into each other's eyes.  Then "Dream a
Little Dream of me" started playing on the radio, and Margaret grinned
beautifully.  "I like this song.  Why don't we dance, like we used to?"

   Rose smiled back, brushing tears away.  "I'd like that." She stood and
slipped her arms around Margaret, savoring the feel of her flimsy cotton
dress.  Then they rocked slowly to the music, their faces pressed against
each other.  As Margaret began to kiss her, it actually felt as it had with
Virginia, and Rose cried.

   For just a moment, Rose truly forgot that it was someone else.  For just
a moment, she was back in her old bedroom, kissing the woman that she
loved. Then reality struck, and she pulled away.  "I have to go now."

   Margaret slipped forward and kissed her again.  "No, stay.  I'm your
Virginia."

   Rose frowned and caressed her cheek.  "I know you are.  And I'll always
love you.  But it's not safe for me here."

   Margaret removed her dress and slip, her eyes filled with lust.  "Make
love to me.  Just one more time, Rose.  I'll never see you again."

   "I...I can't." Margaret pressed her warm body against her, though, and
Rose found herself kissing those inviting lips.  *Just once more.  There
might still be time.* Her hands pawed at her lover's blue brassiere.  She
managed to unhook it, and Margaret's beautiful breasts spilled forth.

   Rose removed her own brassiere and took her lover into her arms.  They
kissed again and again, savoring every touch as if it might be their last.
Rose started to kiss Margaret's breasts, and Margaret fingered herself
under her panties.

   Smiling sweetly, Margaret took Rose by the hand and led her to the bed,
just as she had led Virginia that first night.  They rolled around, kissing
and stroking each other, and then Rose came out on top.  o Her mouth
explored Margaret's breasts, licking the swell of each.  They slipped their
panties off, and Rose slid her face down her lover's body.  Margaret must
have realized what was coming, because she moaned before Rose's tongue even
went to work.

   When Margaret had cried out in satisfaction, they rolled over and traded
positions.  Margaret proved a quick learner, and Rose soon felt dizzy with
pleasure.  Breathing heavily, she massaged her own breasts. 
*Virginia...love you...I'll never forget...*

   Just before Rose came to orgasm, she heard a car pull up to the house.



   Paul opened the door and slipped into the kitchen, greeted only by
silence.  He had spent the entire drive home thinking about Rose, and he
had come to a conclusion.  They could not take her where they were going,
and they could not return her to Walter.  The only choice left was to set
her free somewhere, to let her determine her own fate.

   He set the briefcase and pistol on the counter, and then he walked into
the living room.  From here, he could see no one.  "Russ?  Margaret?" He
called loudly, but no one answered.  Frowning, he returned to the kitchen.

   The briefcase and gun were no longer there.  Paul froze, glancing
nervously around the room.  For a moment, he felt as if he were being
watched.  Then the feeling passed, and he headed for the bedroom.

   Paul heard the moaning before he even opened the bedroom door.  Margaret
was sitting naked on the bed, touching herself in a sexual way.  He stared
at her in horror and slowly approached the bed.  "Margaret?  Honey, what
did Rose do to you?" He sat down and hugged her, kissing her shoulder. 
"Margaret, where's Russ?  Tell me where Russ is."

   Margaret smiled at him, still fondling herself.  "She had to do it,
Paul. Don't be angry.  I remembered something before she left, something
wonderful.  I'm Virginia, and I love her." She kissed him.  "I love Rose,
just like I love you."

   Paul grimaced and held her close.  "Okay, Margaret.  It's okay."



   Rose sat before her bureau mirror in a blue chiffon gown, brushing her
golden hair.  On the radio, "Putting on the Ritz" was playing.  The
snowstorm had abated for the time being, which meant that the party would
not be cancelled.  It was supposed to be a delightful affair.

   Behind her, Walter watched every graceful stroke that she made with
loving attention.  It seemed to her that he should be getting ready, but it
was hardly her place to tell him his business.  Besides, he had nearly lost
her, and it was only natural that he feel possessive.  She smiled radiantly
at him through the mirror's reflection.  *I love my husband.*

   Walter smiled back, nodding.  "You look beautiful, my love.  Everyone
will be jealous."

   She set the brush down.  "How charming of you to say, Darling.  I am
quite fond of this dress."

   He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, and then he
nervously cleared his throat.  "Later, after the party...when we're
alone..."

   Rose nodded and placed her hand on his.  "I will do the thing with my
mouth.  The thing a lady does not say.  Don't worry, Walter.  You will love
it."

   Walter smiled timidly.  "And it's all right, because I'm your husband.
As long as you tell no one."

   She smiled sweetly at him.  "You're right, of course."

   He knelt down beside her and took hold of her hand.  "Rose, I want you
to promise me something.  You are not to talk to anyone about your
kidnapping.  Especially the police."

   Walter kissed the bruise on her shoulder.  "The man who raped you is
dead, but if the others were caught, they could cause problems for us. 
They might tell embarrassing lies that would create quite a scandal.  You
know how the poor can be."

   "Of course, Darling.  Whatever you think is best." Rose leaned down and
kissed him, her tongue gently exploring his mouth.  Then she pulled away
and stared lovingly into his eyes.  "You are the man of the house."