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A Rose by any other name… by Kaereni

Rose was unlike other burglars. She stole yes, but, she would place the item somewhere else, leaving behind a single red rose as a calling card. Like the time she stole the tiger eye sapphire from the museum. She placed it in the tiger cage at the zoo and left a little love note for the police on the chief’s desk telling him where it was. She stole not because she had to, her inheritance saw to her needs. Instead, she stole for the excitement and challenge.

‘Tonight’ Rose thought to herself as she finalized her plans. She had the route in and out covered, the security measures and how to neutralize them all memorized. All that was left was to change and wait for the wee hours of the morning when the guards would be at their slowest. While she had never taken a painting before, she thought it would be a nice touch for the men’s bathroom at police headquarters.

At midnight Rose changed into what she lined to call her working clothes; latex bodysuit with hood, with a spandex bodysuit and hood over that. Wearing the two outfits together she could defeat any thermal and noise sensors made, not to mention how good they felt on her. Grabbing her small back pack she started making her way to the gallery where her target laid waiting for her.

It was just after three am when she made it to the roof of the gallery. Rose looked at the simple security measures on the great skylights and said “pitiful,” to her self softly. Just to make it a challenge she defeated them with one hand behind her back. She was just about to open the skylight fully when she caught sight of a figure in black slinking across the floor below. She watches as the figure lifted her painting and disabled the alarm system in no time.

Rose felt like a voyeur watching someone else work. It was her painting to steal and here some interloper came along to take it. Yet, watching someone as talented as her work was a pleasure that she could not turn away from. Just as the figure lifted the painting off the wall it was bathed in the light from a flashlight. Words though muffled by the window, came to her, “Stop or I’ll shoot. . .”

In sick horror Rose watched as the figure turned, using the painting as a shield to hide behind, started edging to one side. Shots shattered the night air and the figure fell, the painting ruined by the bullet holes. ‘If I had left a few minutes sooner that would have been me’ she thought as she looked at the crumpled figure surrounded by the security guards. It had never occurred to Rose that she could be caught or even shot. She knew she should leave but she could not, not without knowing who he is and if he was ok. Perhaps she could send him one of her trademark roses in the hospital.

Rose watched as one of the guards bent down and stripped the hood off. “wha?” she said looking through the glass. Below her, not twenty feet away, was her body double. The woman had the same look, same hair cut. Even when she looked up at the guards and coughed blood, she had the same arrogant smile.

Rose heard her own voice come from the woman below, “Lucky bastard… have a rose.” She could have sworn the woman looked up at her watching from the skylight and smiled a bloody smile. Her double reached into her bag and again shots rang out, the guards fired on her at point blank range. One of the guards reached down and pulled the woman’s hand from the bag. In it, clutched was a single red rose.

Rose stood moving back from the skylight. She had never seen anyone die before, let alone someone that dressed and looked like herself. Hearing a soft phht sound she looked down at her chest and the dart hanging there. Turning towards the sound she saw a figure dressed in black lift a pistol and fire again “Phht.”

Crouching and moving forward Rose plucked the darts from her suit softly saying, “Rubber suit… Darts can’t penetrate it.” So focused was Rose on the figure standing before her that she was not aware of anyone else until she felt the needle in her arm. Jerking away she turned towards this new threat. Her body kept turning and she crashed to the ground unable to fight back.

As Rose faded into oblivion she heard a voice saying, “but hypodermics can.”

Rose woke nude, sitting in a white room behind a table facing a mirrored wall. She looked around fuzzily not sure of anything other then the coolness of the metal chair against her backside. The last thing she remembered was looking down and seeing… “Oh my god,” she whispered her voice sounding loud to her ears.

“Jamie Rose Grithiff… Born: March 18 th 2021” A man’s voice spoke as if he was reading. “Parents: Jake and Edith Grithiff both deceased…Siblings: none.”

She looked crossly at the mirror and said, “I already know who I am thank you very much… now how about some clothes?”

The voice ignored her and kept talking telling her and anyone who happened to also be listening every intimate detail of her life. Who ever these people were they had done their homework. They knew everything about her including every man she had sex with and if they enjoyed it or not.

“Does your report say anything about me loving to masturbate in public?” She asked sarcastically. When the voice did not answer, she got up on the table, lay back, and started working her fingers between her legs. “Here’s something new for your report… now let me out.”

“The door is unlocked, you can leave anytime,” the voice replied calmly.

“It’s about time,” She said as she stood, walked over to the mirror, and wiped her damp fingers over it leaving a wet smear. “Have a souvenir,” Rose added with a sneer as she turned towards the door. But, no matter how hard she tries to grab the doorknob her hand refuses to grasp it. “What the?” she said backing up staring at her hand and then the knob in shock.

Without warning the door opens and in walks a young man wearing scrubs and lab coat. Going over to the only chair he sits down and consults a clipboard. “Miss Grithiff,” looking up at her, “You have been a very bad girl.”

“What do you mean bad? I never really took anything I just moved it around,” Rose spoke defiantly in her defense.

“You have been judged and found guilty of 27 felony counts.” The man said looking at her as he made a steeple with his fingers.

“What? I want my lawyer…” she replied is shock.

“Your punishment will be to spend the next 20 years as an artificial personality. After which time you will be free to do as you please.” He said looking at her as if she were nothing more then a side of beef.

“You can’t do that.” Rose yelled and launched herself at him. Instead of knocking him from the chair, her body stopped before reaching him. “I won’t let you,” she screamed defiantly.

He looked at her calmly, “After 20 years of serving men. You will learn your rightful place and beg me to do anything to you.” Standing up he gathered the file and looking at her said, “Heel!”

Rose felt her body follow the man walking behind him like a well trained bitch on a leash. She followed him down a hall and into a room with several body transformers. At his command she watched helplessly as she crawled in and lay there as the lid closed.

Rose felt as if she was a stranger in her own body. She ended up as a Debby Domestic, housewife and maid to a widower and his three children. Day in and day out she did nothing but clean house, cook, sexually service him and raise his children. If she could have taken her own life she would have long ago. To be stuck in a body and have not control only watch was enough to drive a normal person crazy. But not Rose, she plotted her revenge. Somehow someway she would strike back at the ones that sentenced her to this hell.

They made sure she would not break free or show any signs that she was not a true AP. Once a month she would walk out to the street and wait for the service van to come, pick her up, and take her in for reconditioning. One day, four years into her personal hell it all changed. When she got into the van another Debby Domestic got out. The ride in the van instead of being thirty minutes to the reconditioning station lasted much longer.