Literotic asexstories – The Taming of the SF Dominatrix by Roy_Eldorado,Roy_Eldorado
The official title of this work is, “The Taming of the San Francisco Dominatrix,” which was more than 35 characters, so had to be altered in the title. This play is a parody of William Shakespeare’s farcical comedy, “The Taming of the Shrew.” It was written specifically for Literotica’s 2024 April Fool’s Day contest, and is chock full of humor, deception, and plenty of disguises! Please vote and comment on the story. Enjoy!
© 2024 by Roy Eldorado
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ACT 1, SCENE 1
(LUTHER and TRAVIS, two 20-something bachelors from Seattle hoping to sow their wild oats, arrive in San Francisco. Both men are lean and attractive, and have similar looks — brown floppy hair, brown eyes, pearly-white smiles.)
LUTHER: So this is it. San Francisco. Wow. Isn’t it amazing, Travis? We have the bay, and the Golden Gate Bridge, and all of this wonderful art and culture.
TRAVIS: And the homeless people.
LUTHER: Yes, and the homeless people.
TRAVIS: And the crime. Did you leave the windows rolled down in the car? To let the heroin addicts know that we don’t have anything worth stealing?
LUTHER: I did not leave the windows rolled down. That’s ridiculous.
TRAVIS: Well, that pretty much guarantees your car will be broken into when we get back.
LUTHER: Nonsense. My car will be fine. This is San Francisco, a truly welcoming community! It’s the home of fetish and sexual exploration! I love it! I want to explore! Let’s ride a trolley! Let’s take a cable car into town!
(They take a cable car into the city. They get off outside a BDSM club called The Riding Crop, a San Francisco fetish club that also features an oxygen bar. There is a small gathering of people outside. There appears to be an argument or disagreement happening.)
(LUTHER and TRAVIS stand to the side.)
(BARTHOLOMEW, the flamboyant manager of The Riding Crop, enters with two BDSM escorts named KINSLEY, who is a dominatrix, and BOBI, who is a submissive. Two potential clients named HARVEY and GEORGE also enter the scene. HARVEY is in his early 30s, slender, nerdy, and wears glasses. GEORGE is in his late 60s, a wealthy gray-haired widower who takes Viagra.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Gentlemen, please. You need to calm down. We’ve been over this a hundred times: no one can do a session with Bobi until I find a play partner for Kinsley. If either of you want to strike up a conversation with Kinsley, you can rent a playroom in the club for half price.
GEORGE: Strike up a conversation? I’d just as well stick heroin needles in my eyes.
KINSLEY (to BARTHOLOMEW): Are you trying to embarrass me in front of these two morons? I don’t need your help finding a client.
HARVEY: Morons? That’s no way to do business, insulting us like this. That’s why nobody wants to play with you. Your reputation speaks for itself: you’re rude, and crude, and you need to learn some manners.
KINSLEY: I need to learn manners? Ha! I don’t think so. I’m not looking for clients right now, anyway! But even if I was, I wouldn’t want to dominate you! Unless I wanted to black your eyes with my fists, or tie you up and crush your balls in a vice grip!
HARVEY (covering his genitals): Ouch. I’ll stay clear of you, then.
GEORGE: This woman is bat-shit crazy.
TRAVIS (speaking to LUTHER): Hide the family jewels, good friend. That wench is a few cards short of a full deck. Not bad looking, but a lunatic just the same. You gotta love San Francisco.
LUTHER (speaking to TRAVIS): But the other girl is absolutely stunning, Travis! So sexy and mild-mannered! I’d love to tie her up!
BARTHOLOMEW (to HARVEY and GEORGE): So that’s the deal. These are the rules of the club. No one can top Bobi until I find a bottom for Kinsley. All escorts must have an equal number of clients — call it equity, if you will. Plus, Kinsley has worked at the club much longer. Bobi, go inside and continue practicing your rope-tying. You’re not going to be a submissive your whole life.
HARVEY: I can’t believe these ridiculous club rules. Equity my ass. Our money is just as green as anyone else’s.
GEORGE: Yeah, this is quite frustrating. Why keep Bobi from everybody and force us all to deal with the dominatrix from hell? You know I heard that during one of her play sessions, she actually put a guy’s testicles in a vice-grip.
HARVEY: Unthinkable.
GEORGE: It’s the truth.
BARTHOLOMEW: Okay, gentleman. Enough of this. I made the rules clear. I need to get back inside, I have a fetish club to run. If either of you know of anybody who would like to hire Kinsley, let me know. You have full permission to do a session with her. Oh yes, and I almost forgot. I’m looking for instructors in the BDSM community who are experienced in flogging and rope-tying. Kinsley and Bobi need to brush up on their skills. It’s not easy running a fetish club in San Francisco. So many perverts, so little talent. Good day, gentlemen.
(He exits).
GEORGE: Well, that’s a bummer. Bobi is so beautiful and obedient — a wonderful submissive. I bet I could get her off with a good paddling, even at my age. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to check around the city and see if I can’t find someone to teach the girls flogging and rope-tying. Seriously. This might be a good way to get in with Bartholomew.
HARVEY: That’s a great idea. The best way to get a session with Bobi is by keeping Bartholomew happy. But there’s something else I’d like to do as well.
GEORGE: What’s that?
HARVEY: We need to find a play partner for Kinsley. That should come first. We should put aside our differences and work together to get her a client.
GEORGE: Huh? Are you serious? Who in the world would want to do a session with that lunatic?
HARVEY: I don’t know, but we’ll find somebody. We have to. If not, having a play session with Bobi is out of the question. What do you say, George? Work together to find her a partner?
GEORGE: It’s a deal. Let’s find someone to woo her, screw her, and rid the club of her!
(HARVEY and GEORGE exit).
TRAVIS (to LUTHER): No, I don’t believe it. You’ve fallen for this chick, haven’t you?
LUTHER: I burn, I pine, I perish, Travis, if I achieve not this modest young girl! She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen! Her sapphire blue eyes and long, golden blond hair! Oh how I long to handcuff her to the bed!
TRAVIS: Yes, she’s beautiful, I agree. But has love made you completely blind and deaf? Did you not hear Bartholomew explaining the club rules? Bobi is off limits.
LUTHER: Did you not hear Bartholomew say he was looking for BDSM teachers for the girls?
TRAVIS: Oh my god! I know what you’re thinking!
LUTHER: What am I thinking?
TRAVIS: You will become a BDSM teacher, and offer to be their instructor?
LUTHER: Yes! Here’s the plan: I’m going to disguise myself as a fetish tutor — put on a bunch of leather and spikes and whatnot — and offer myself as a rope-tying instructor. At the same time, you are going to pretend to be me. Here. Take my Seattle Supersonics cap. (TRAVIS takes the hat and puts it on.) I need you to go to Bartholomew and request a session with Bobi, and get my name on her client list.
TRAVIS: Her client list?
LUTHER: Yes, her list. Because once she is free to take on clients again, I want to officially be in line to have a session with her. You’re going to have to advocate for me with Bartholomew. There are already two other guys trying to have a session with her, and I can’t risk missing out. Just do as I tell you, okay? Don’t ask questions.
TRAVIS: Okay. No problem.
LUTHER: Great. This should be a lot of fun.
(They exit).
ACT 1, SCENE 2
(PHILIBERT, who just inherited a large sum of money from his recently deceased father, arrives in San Francisco from Los Angles. He’s a masculine, burly man with a thick head of brown wavy hair, and a heavy beard.)
PHILIBERT: Hello, San Francisco! You’re not quite Los Angeles, but you’ll have to do! Ah, the shoplifters! The feces on the sidewalks! The heroin addicts exchanging needles! Now that I’ve inherited my beloved father’s money and land, I’m traveling the country in search of the ultimate BDSM partner. Preferably, one who can bring Philibert, son of the great Archibald Van Ginkel, to his limits. But first, I must visit my good friend Harvey. I sure hope he’s at home.
(PHILIBERT knocks on HARVEY’S door.)
HARVEY: Philibert! Oh my, it’s so good to see you! What are you doing in San Francisco?
PHILIBERT: Well, my good friend, I’m on a mission to see the country, and to find the ultimate BDSM partner. My father Archibald just passed away, and I’ve inherited his penis pump fortune. It’s a great time to be alive, isn’t it? And to be here, in San Francisco, with all the fetish clubs and glorious immoral behavior — the dog collars and rectal fisting and such. Yes sir. You gotta love it, Harvey my boy. Did someone take a dump on your sidewalk?
HARVEY (looking outside through the doorway): Probably, yeah. I’ll get the hose in a minute. But did I hear you just say you are looking for a BDSM partner?
PHILIBERT: The ultimate BDSM partner, yes. One that can push my limits. I’m talking flogging, suffocation, cock-and-ball torture. All of it! And face-sitting, too. I love it when a chick smothers my face with her big fat ass! My father just died, Harvey. I’m a rich man now. Life is short. It’s time to get down to business.
HARVEY: This is amazing. I don’t believe it.
PHILIBERT: What? What is it?
HARVEY: I know just the woman for you.
PHILIBERT: Here? In San Francisco? You’re kidding!
HARVEY: I’m serious. Right here in town. She works at The Riding Crop. Decent looking woman, long black hair and brown eyes, curvy body with big breasts, olive complexion, with lots of tattoos and piercings.
PHILIBERT: Does she have a clit ring? Tell me she has a clit ring!
HARVEY: She has a lip and eyebrow ring, I know that. And a nose ring. You’ll have to find out yourself about the clit ring. If I were a betting man, however, I’d say she has one. Definitely. But there’s just one thing: she’s crazy.
PHILIBERT: What do you mean, crazy?
HARVEY: I mean she’s nuts. The manager down at The Riding Crop can’t even find her any clients. Everyone is afraid of her. There’s a rumor going around that she crushed a guy’s nuts in a vice grip.
PHILIBERT: I love it! When can I meet her? I won’t sleep until I’m introduced!
HARVEY: We can go down to the club this afternoon, if you want. It’s right in the city. I’m very excited to take you there. The woman I’m in love with works at the same club. Her name is Bobi, and she’s the world’s most beautiful submissive. She’s not allowed to take on new clients until Kinsley, the dominatrix from hell, gets a playmate first.
PHILIBERT: I see. Show me the way. I can handle this woman, no problem.
HARVEY: Great. But I need you to do me a favor as well. I need you to introduce me — disguised in a black leather suit and a zipper mask — to Bartholomew, as a BDSM teacher for Bobi. I will pretend to be experienced in the art of flogging. This way, I will be able to get alone with the beautiful young submissive, and win her over.
PHILIBERT: No problem. But wait, who’s that coming down the street? Do you hear that? Right outside? It sounds like people are talking.
(HARVEY glances out his window, and sees GEORGE talking with another man.)
HARVEY: That’s George, a rival for my love. Shhh, let’s stay here and listen.
(HARVEY and PHILIBERT stay off to the side.)
(GEORGE is outside talking to LUTHER, who is disguised as CHADWICK, a BDSM teacher who’s expert in the art of rope-tying. He is wearing a rubber body suit and rubber hood, with the eyes and mouth cut out. GEORGE is unaware of the disguise, and thinks he’s found a genuine BDSM instructor to present to Bartholomew to teach the girls how to tie bondage knots.)
GEORGE: Wow, so many options here. Let me see. I want you to get me 25 feet of this white nylon rope, 25 feet of the cotton bondage rope, one spreader bar, and two pair of wrist restraints. Throw in two bondage straps for good measure. And I want all these items gift wrapped and perfumed, so I can present them to Bartholomew when I introduce you to him.
LUTHER (disguised as CHADWICK): No problem. I will get all of these items and bring them to you shortly. This is San Francisco, after all. They probably sell bondage gear in Walmart.
GEORGE: Wonderful. I will definitely pay you handsomely for this. But what will you teach Bobi?
LUTHER (disguised as CHADWICK): Just the basics of knot-tying, things like that. I’ll keep it simple and easy. And don’t worry, I’ll plead your case to her. I’ll talk you up, and make you seem like the best play partner in all of California. She’ll want you on her client list, guaranteed.
GEORGE: Oh, how I love education!
PHILIBERT (looking out HARVEY’S window): Is that man wearing full bondage gear, right in broad daylight? Only in San Francisco!
HARVEY: Shhh, Philibert. Please.
(GEORGE hears HARVEY’S voice through the open window, spots him standing there with PHILIBERT, and waves to him.)
(HARVEY and PHILIBERT come outside.)
HARVEY: Good afternoon, George. Nice day, isn’t it?
GEORGE: Hello, Harvey. Yes, a glorious day. Allow me to introduce you to Chadwick, a BDSM instructor, expert in rope-tying. I promised Bartholomew I’d find him a bondage teacher to work with the fair and virtuous Bobi, and Chadwick here responded immediately to my ad in the newspaper. His experience using ropes and restraints is second to none, I can assure you. He’s in the process of getting me some bondage gear to present to Bartholomew as a gift as well. We’re heading over to The Riding Crop later this afternoon.
HARVEY: That’s great. I actually just hired an expert flogger for Bobi, too. We’re visiting The Riding Crop later today. Bartholomew will be very impressed. He’ll know I’m serious about becoming a client of my beloved Bobi.
GEORGE: You mean my beloved, as all my hard work will prove.
HARVEY: George, now is not the time for us to fight and bicker. If you could take a deep breath for a moment, I’d like to share some good news with you — news that will benefit us all.
GEORGE: I’m listening.
HARVEY (presenting PHILIBERT): Here is an old friend of mine, Philibert. He’s agreed to be a play partner of Kinsley, to be a regular client of hers. He has some stipulations, of course. He’s into extreme cock-and-ball torture, and would love to have his dick pounded with a hammer. All kidding aside. He’s into suffocation and flogging, too. And face sitting. He loves to be smothered by big round asses. His limits need to be pushed. If not, forget about it. He has no time for bullshit vanilla play sessions.
GEORGE: If he’s serious and means what he says, great. But have you told him about Kinsley’s flaws?
PHILIBERT: I heard. I know she can be annoying, and has a loud mouth. Not a big deal.
GEORGE: But what about the fact that she’s crazy, and completely out of her mind? She crushed a man’s testicles in a vice grip, you know.
PHILIBERT: And?
GEORGE: And do you think you can handle her?
PHILIBERT: Of course I can. Why else would I be standing here? A little noise from a crazy woman doesn’t bother me, I can assure you! I might not be from San Francisco, I might not live in a tent on the street and shit on the sidewalk, but I have years of experience handling crazy women! I’ve been to the most extreme BDSM clubs in the country, even the ones in New York’s red light district! Plus, I was in the Army and fought in the Middle East! I’ve seen snipers blow off people’s heads, and men step on IEDs! Do you think some woman’s tongue, or a vice grip, is going to frighten me! Shame on you!
HARVEY: Philibert fears nothing. But look. Who comes here?
(TRAVIS, disguised as LUTHER, approaches the men on the street.).
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Excuse me gentlemen, but does anybody have directions to The Riding Crop?
GEORGE: You’re not trying to schedule a play session, are you?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): As a matter of fact, I am.
PHILIBERT: Not a session with the crazy woman, I assume.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): No way. I’m not into having my nuts crushed.
HARVEY: Wait a minute, sir. Are you trying to schedule with Bobi?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): If I say yes, is it a problem?
GEORGE: Not if you leave now and put that idea out of your mind forever.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Leave now? Why? Don’t I have the right to enjoy a little BDSM now and again?
GEORGE: Not with Bobi.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): And why not?
GEORGE: Because she’s the chosen love of George, of course.
HARVEY: Because she’s the chosen love of Harvey, you mean.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Relax guys. This is a free country, and The Riding Crop is open to all paying customers. Why don’t we all get lunch together and have a few drinks. Afterward, we can head over to the club together and see what’s going on.
HARVEY: That’s a good idea, actually. Let’s do it. The first drink is on me. Philibert, I’ll pick up your tab since you are a guest at my house.
(They all exit.)
ACT 2, SCENE 1
(KINSLEY and BOBI enter the main playroom at The Riding Crop. KINSLEY, who is dressed in heels, black fishnet stockings and a black leather corset, has BOBI’s wrists bound to a wooden cross. BOBI is wearing a purple lace teddy and panties. She’s also wearing beautiful diamond earrings and a matching necklace given to her by one of her clients.)
BOBI: Kinsley, please! Untie my hands! I already used the safe word! If you want my earrings and necklace, I’ll give them to you, it’s not a big deal! I’ll even stay in the backroom of the club, whatever you want!
KINSLEY: I don’t want your tacky jewelry. I just want you to tell me which of those new men you like the best. Tell the truth. Who would you bring to a play party?
BOBI: Neither of them.
KINSLEY: You’re lying, you little slut! It’s Harvey, isn’t it? You want Harvey to spank your pretty little ass? Work you with a butt plug?
BOBI: If you want Harvey, you can have him. Invite him to a play party. I’ll even talk to him for you.
KINSLEY: Oh, than you’re probably a gold digger. I get it. You want old man George and his money, right? So he can buy you more gaudy jewelry you can wear around town?
BOBI: Stop playing around, Kinsley! Untie my hands! You don’t have to be mad at me. I’m sure there are plenty of guys who will want to hire you.
KINSLEY: Don’t talk to me about clients!
(BARTHOLOMEW enters the room.)
BARTHOLOMEW: What is going on in here? Girls! Get ahold your yourselves. Kinsley, we talked about this. You need to stop bullying Bobi. Untie her hands. What did she do to you? Probably nothing. (To BOBI): Are you okay, dear? Here. Let me help you.
(BOBI gets free and exits.)
KINSLEY: I get it now. She’s your favorite. Ms. Bobi, the wonderful submissive. With her long, golden blond hair, fair skin and blue eyes. I knew the minute she started working here she’d take all of my business away! Why can’t a single man in this city appreciate a strong, assertive, independent woman! No, they all want these pathetic, nauseating submissives like her! I don’t care if you fire me! I’m going in the back!
(KINSLEY exits.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Unbelievable. Why did I ever take a job managing a BDSM club? But wait a minute, are there more people coming in?
(GEORGE enters with LUTHER, dressed as CHADWICK, the rope-tying instructor. He’s wearing a black rubber body suit and rubber facemask, with the eyes and mouth cut out. PHILIBERT enters with HARVEY, dressed as LANGDON, the expert flogger. He’s also wearing a body suit, only his is black leather, with a zipper facemask. TRAVIS enters, dressed as LUTHER, and is carrying a leather flogger and various bondage gear.)
GEORGE: Good afternoon, Bartholomew.
BARTHOLOMEW: Good afternoon, George. And hello to all of you. Welcome to The Riding Crop, the hottest fetish club in all of San Francisco. How can I help you gentlemen?
PHILIBERT: Hello there, sir. Pardon my forwardness, but do you have a dominatrix named Kinsley who works here? A woman who is safe, sane, and professional?
BARTHOLOMEW: I have a dominatrix named Kinsley, yes.
PHILIBERT: Ah, very good. Then let me get down to business. I’ve heard a lot of great things about Kinsley — that she’s beautiful, witty, and above all, friendly and laid back. I want to hire her as my play partner. As a gesture of goodwill, I’d like to offer you a friend of mine. (He presents HARVEY, disguised as LANGDON). His name is Langdon, from San Diego. He is a very skilled BDSM instructor, expert in the art of flogging. He can work with Bobi, who I know is a submissive, but who is learning how to be a dominatrix. Please take advantage of his services.
(LANGDON, in his leather body suit, waves.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Thank you, sir. Welcome to our fetish club, and to San Francisco. But there might be some confusion regarding Kinsley.
PHILIBERT: Confusion? How so?
BARTHOLOMEW: I don’t think she’s going to meet your expectations.
PHILIBERT: I take it you don’t like me?
BARTHOLOMEW: No, that’s not it at all. I’m just trying to be truthful. What’s your name, anyway? Are you from San Francisco?
PHILIBERT: My name is Philibert. I live in Los Angeles. My father was Archibald Van Ginkel, I’m sure you’ve heard of him.
BARTHOLOMEW: The millionaire penis pump designer, and five-time senator of California?
PHILIBERT: Yes, he’s the one.
BARTHOLOMEW: Well now! The son of the late Senator Van Ginkel is always welcomed at The Riding Crop.
(GEORGE steps between the two men and interrupts them.)
GEORGE: Ahem. Yes. So anyway, Bartholomew, I have also brought you a gift as a gesture of my fondness for Bobi. I offer you the services of this fine teacher. (He presents LUTHER, disguised as CHADWICK.) He is a BDSM master, with superior knowledge in rope-tying and knot-making. His name is Chadwick. He’s tied up a lot of people over the years, from New York to California. He’s second to none. He can definitely teach your Bobi a thing or two about bondage and restraint. Please accept his instruction.
BARTHOLOMEW: Thank you very much, George. That’s very kind of you. And welcome to you, Chadwick.
(CHADWICK, in his goofy black rubber body suit and facemask, bows to Bartholomew.)
BARTHOLOMEW (to TRAVIS disguised as LUTHER): Pardon me, sir. But may I ask what brings you here to The Riding Crop?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Good afternoon, Bartholomew. My name is Luther, and I’m a visitor from Seattle. I apologize for being so forward, but I’m here because I want to be a play partner of Bobi’s. I understand that she’s not taking new clients at the moment, but I was wondering if I could get my name on her waiting list? My father, Virgil Havelock, is an esteemed sexologist at the University of Washington, and I grew up in a sex positive household. As for the education of your escorts, I’ve brought them these gifts — some rope, a flogger, and some other bondage gear. Please, accept these as a token of my friendship.
BARTHOLOMEW: Thank you, Luther. I appreciate this. You said your father is Virgil Havelock, of the University of Washington? The sex professor? Is that correct?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Yes sir, it is.
BARTHOLOMEW: Wonderful! I’ve read all of his books! (BARTHOLOMEW takes the flogger and hands it to LANGDON, and takes the rope and bondage gear and gives it to CHADWICK.) Why don’t you two gentlemen go meet the girls. Kinsley and Bobi are in the back. Yes, right through those doors. Tell them you are their BDSM instructors, and that Bartholomew wants them to practice with you.
PHILIBERT: Ah, yes. So listen, Bartholomew. I don’t have a lot of time, so let me get right to the point. Why don’t we take a seat at the oxygen bar here. (They sit down.) I want to hire Kinsley to be my play partner, and to do sessions with me. In fact, I’d like to hire her to do an entire play party with me, right here at The Riding Crop. But I want full access to the entire club, and full access to her. (He sees the colorful canisters of oxygen in front of him.) Do you mind if I do a hit of oxygen while I’m here?
BARTHOLOMEW: Be my guest. Viola, could you set up Philibert here with some gas. On the house. Viola is our beautiful oxygen barista. What flavor would you like, my friend?
PHILIBERT: What are my choices?
VIOLA: We have eucalyptus, peppermint, lavender, lemongrass, and pink grapefruit.
PHILIBERT: I’ll try the peppermint, if I may. To clear out the sinuses.
(VIOLA hands PHILIBERT a clear plastic oxygen mask connected to a light blue hose, which he straps on his face. A small hissing sound can be heard as he huffs the peppermint-flavored gas. After a long breath, he removes the mask, hands it back to VIOLA.)
PHILIBERT: Ahhhhh! That will do the trick, yes sir.
BARTHOLOMEW: How are the sinuses?
PHILIBERT: Peachy-keen.
BARTHOLOMEW: Wonderful. Why don’t we go to my office in the back and talk in private.
PHILIBERT: Good idea.
(The two men go through a set of doors into the back of the club.)
BARTHOLOMEW: So what do you mean, full access to Kinsley?
PHILIBERT: I mean I want Kinsley all to myself, all the time. When I’m here, she’s mine — all mine. No other clients will be allowed.
BARTHOLOMEW: Are you saying you want to book all her appointments on her entire schedule?
PHILIBERT: Yes, exactly.
BARTHOLOMEW: That’s going to cost you a lot of money.
PHILIBERT: Not a problem. I have plenty of money. My father left me his penis pump fortune, don’t forget.
BARTHOLOMEW: The penis pump money, of course.
PHILIBERT: Yes. And I intend to spend every penny of it. Which is why I want to throw a play party, right here. I want to rent out the entire club, every room. And I want Kinsley and me to host it. Her and I will do a session in the main playroom, and everyone can watch us. It will be great fun.
BARTHOLOMEW: You’re going to pay to rent out the entire club?
PHILIBERT: Absolutely.
BARTHOLOMEW: This is a very bold idea. I have to admit, I like it. I think we can definitely accommodate you. There’s just one stipulation.
PHILIBERT: What’s that?
BARTHOLOMEW: You need Kinsley’s permission, of course. This might be a problem. She can be extremely stubborn.
PHILIBERT: Let me tell you something, Bartholomew. Kinsley is independent and strong-willed, but so am I. We’re like wind and fire. A small breeze will make a little fire spread, but a huge gust will put a small fire out. I’m the huge gust to her small fire, and she will submit to me, even though she’s a dominatrix. I will top her from the bottom, because I’m a grown man, and have lots of wisdom and experience — not just in the fetish world, but in real life.
(HARVEY, disguised as LANGDON, comes out of one of the playrooms, shouting and rubbing his backside.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Are you okay my friend?
HARVEY (as LANGDON): That woman is crazy! Keep her away from me!
BARTHOLOMEW: My goodness, what happened?
HARVEY (as LANGDON): Kinsley started beating me with the flogger! I told her she was swinging it too hard, not aiming it properly, and she threw me onto the floor and started hitting me with it! “Is this the right way?” she said, whipping my backside with the flogger. I lay on the floor trying to cover my ass with my hands while she hit me harder and harder, calling me a “whipping boy” and “punching bag,” and a whole bunch of other crazy names.
PHILIBERT: Hilarious! What a woman! I like her even better than before. I can’t wait to talk to her.
BATHOLOMEW (to LANGDON): My apologies, sir. Why don’t you come with me. I’ll take you to Bobi, who is a much faster learner. Philibert, do you want to come with us to meet Kinsley, or should I send her out to you?
PHILIBERT: Send her to me, if you will.
(Everyone exits, except for PHILIBERT. He is alone in the office.)
PHILIBERT: This woman is crazy, no doubt. I have to play this one just right. I need to let her know I’m in charge, even if she’s the dominatrix. I’ll top her from the bottom, like I said before. Here she comes.
(Kinsley enters the office.)
PHILIBERT: Good afternoon, Kinsley.
KINSLEY: What in god’s name do you want?
PHILIBERT: I’m here to hire you as my play partner. I’ve heard so much about you — how you’re patient and level-headed, and how you’re the most popular dominatrix in all of California. I hear your waiting list is quite lengthy.
KINSLEY: Are you some kind of stalker? My waiting list is none of your business. It’s time for you to leave.
PHILIBERT: I’m not leaving until I hire you. What do you say, Kinsley?
KINSLEY: That’s not my name.
PHILIBERT: Really? That’s not what I heard.
KINSLEY: Then you must have shit in your ears. People in this club call me Mistress or Madam.
PHILIBERT: Okay, Mistress Kinsley. Let’s play.
KINSLEY: I don’t play with buzzards.
PHILIBERT: Why not?
KINSLEY: They stink. Like you. Go take a shower.
PHILBERT (sniffing under his arms): I think I smell delightful.
KINSLEY: I said take a shower. It’s a club rule. A golden rule.
PHILIBERT: A golden rule, or a golden shower?
KINSLEY: Excuse me?
PHILIBERT: I asked if you wanted a golden shower. Sorry to disappoint you Kinsley, but I’m not into that.
KINSLEY: I knew you were a pervert!
(She slaps him across the face.)
PHILBERT: Is that the best you got? That’s nothing. (Kinsley tries to hit him again, but he grabs her arms.) No, my darling. No more of that. And if you can’t behave, I may need to tie you up.
KINSLEY: You’ve already tied me up with your idiocy. Let me go!
PHILIBERT: I mean with rope. I’m sure I can find some around this club somewhere.
KINSLEY: Real gentlemen don’t tie up ladies!
PHILBERT: But bad boys do.
KINSLEY: You’re not a boy! You’re an ape!
PHILIBERT: Yes I am. I’m Tarzan. Come swing on my vine.
KINSLEY: It would be a short ride.
PHILIBERT: Ha, funny! You are so witty and beautiful. So charming. That’s why I’m officially hiring you as my personal dominatrix.
KINSLEY: I don’t think so. Now let me go!
PHILIBERT: I’ve already spoken to Bartholomew, and he’s agreed to let me hire you exclusively. Yes, just me — I will be your only client. And to celebrate, we’re going to rent out the club for a play party that you and I will host together.
(BARTHOLOMEW, GEORGE, and TRAVIS enter the office.)
PHILIBERT: Here comes Bartholomew. Don’t refuse my offer. We were made to be together, my darling.
BARTHOLOMEW: Ah, Philibert. How’s it going with Kinsley?
PHILIBERT: Extremely well, of course. I was just telling Kinsley how we were made for each other.
BARTHOLOMEW: That’s great news! What do you think, Kinsley?
KINSLEY: Are you serious? You claim to be my manager, but yet you agree to let this creepy pervert hire me? He’s a buzzard! An animal!
PHILIBERT: Bartholomew, let me clear things up here. I’m not sure why everyone insists that Kinsley is a lunatic, or that’s she’s some kind of dominatrix from hell. But I can tell you this much: she’s the perfect model of a BDSM mistress — safe, sane, and professional. And because we’ve hit it off so well, we’re reserving the club next Saturday night, April 1st. We are going to have a mock BDSM wedding, to officially join us as play partners.
KINSLEY: I’ll put your nuts in a vice grip next Saturday night!
GEORGE: Did you hear that, Philibert? She says she’ll crush your nuts in a vice grip.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Is this what you call winning her over? I guess Bobi will never be free.
PHILIBERT: Relax, gentlemen. This is all but an elaborate role play. Kinsley and I are very happy together. When we were alone, she couldn’t keep her hands off of me. She was absolutely glowing! We are a match made in heaven, a dream BDSM couple if there ever was one. It is truly amazing how quickly she won me over! Yes, we will have a long and fruitful partnership at this club, you can count on that. We are play partners forever!
BARTHOLOMEW: Wow, I’m speechless. Give me your hands. God bless both of you. It’s a deal.
GEORGE and TRAVIS (as LUTHER): We both second that!
PHILBERT: Bartholomew, and Mistress Kinsley, and gentlemen — I will see you all soon. I’m heading to San Francisco’s finest fetish shops, to buy us the kinkiest clothes. Saturday is coming soon. We will have chips and dips, and chains and whips. Now kiss me, Kinsley. Our partnership begins on Saturday, April 1st.
(PHILIBERT and KINSLEY exit through different doors.)
GEORGE: Was ever a play partnership arranged so quickly?
BARTHOLOMEW: I must say I’m very thankful for this arrangement.
GEORGE: As am I. With Kinsley officially hired by Philibert, we can now move onto the matter of Bobi — and who should be her next client. Being that I’ve been a patron of this club for many years and am a longtime resident of San Francisco, I am rightfully next in line.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): And I am a man who loves Bobi more than words can express.
GEORGE: Boy, you have no clue how to treat a woman like Bobi, let alone be her BDSM master.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Says the man who eats Viagra like candy.
GEORGE: You wouldn’t last five minutes with the woman.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): I could go ten times as long as you.
BARTHOLOMEW: Gentlemen, please. All this talk is pointless. Talk is cheap. Whoever can offer the better price for her services will be next on her list.
GEORGE: Not a problem. I’m willing to pay $250 an hour for a session.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): I’ll pay $500 an hour. I have money in the bank. Plus, my father has given me a million-dollar trust fund.
GEORGE: I’ll see your $500 and go to $750.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): I’ll do $1,000 an hour.
GEORGE: Very well. Then I’m willing to schedule overnight activities, and paid vacations, too. I’ll give Bobi $10,000 for the weekend, and take her on a cruise to Aruba. What? Have I silenced you with a trip to Aruba?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Nonsense. I’ll hire her for two weekends for $20,000, and take her on an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii. And I’ll have my father put The Riding Crop in his next book, as a way to advertise the club to the whole world. What? Does the publicity of my father’s book make you nervous, Georgy-boy?
BARTHOLOMEW: The free advertising sounds very appealing, I must admit.
GEORGE: I can’t put the club in any book, I’m not a writer or publisher.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Then Bobi is mine. I will be next on her client list.
BARTHOLOMEW: I have to say that Luther’s offer is the best. If your father, the esteemed sexologist Virgil Havelock, will vouch for you, then Bobi is yours. We will have a play party to celebrate. Next Saturday, Kinsley and Philibert will be hosting a BDSM party at The Riding Crop to celebrate their agreement, and the Saturday after that, Bobi will host a party with you — if you can come through with your offer. If not, George will be Bobi’s next client. With that said, I must tend to some business in the club. Good night, gentlemen.
GEORGE: I find it hard to believe that your father would so willingly include The Riding Crop in his scholarly texts, being that he’s a distinguished professor. Men of such intellect are very selective indeed. Ha! I call bullshit on the whole thing!
(He exits.)
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Well, I did my job, and Luther should be happy. He’s next up on Bobi’s client list. Of course, we’ll need to find a fake Virgil Havelock to play the part of the esteemed professor. Fathers usually create their own children, but in this case, a child must create a father. I do think we can pull this off!
ACT 3, SCENE 1
(LUTHER and HARVEY, disguised in their BDSM body suits and masks, are arguing over who should be tutoring BOBI in one of the club’s playrooms. LUTHER is demonstrating a knot-tying lesson, when HARVEY interrupts with his flogger, insisting it is his turn.)
LUTHER (as CHADWICK): Sir, you need to back up some. Give me room here. You remember what happened last time when you started swinging that flogger around? You ended up on the floor with welts on your ass.
HARVEY (as LANGDON): That wasn’t my fault, sir. Besides, this is Bobi, the sweetest submissive in all California, not the dominatrix from hell. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to begin my lesson. I need 30 minutes to teach her the basics of flogging. When I’m done, you can have all the time you need.
LUTHER (as CHADWICK): Are you totally clueless? A woman should be bound before she’s flogged. That’s simple BDSM etiquette. So, let me give her a crash course in rope-tying and knot-making, and you can go after I am finished.
HARVEY (as LANGDON): Who are you calling clueless?
BOBI: Gentlemen, please. Just stop. Both of you. I can make my own decisions here. Langdon, why don’t you go oil your flogger. The leather straps look dry and not broken in. Chadwick’s lesson will be done by the time you return.
HARVEY (as LANGDON): And you’ll take my instruction when I’m done oiling my flogger?
BOBI: Yes. As soon as we are finished here.
LUTHER (as CHADWICK): Be gone. Go oil yourself, man.
(HARVEY steps aside.)
BOBI: Where did we leave off?
LUTHER (as CHADWICK): Right here. I was showing you how to make an anchor hitch. You take this end here… my real name is Luther, I’m from Seattle… and you put it through here… my father is Virgil Havelock, the sexologist… and then you make a loop… I’ve disguised myself because I want to hire you as a play partner… and you pull it tight like this… my friend Travis is pretending to be me, to fool George and get on your client list with Bartholomew.
(HARVEY returns.)
HARVEY: My flogger is oiled now.
BOBI: Let’s see. Swing it for me.
(He swings it.)
BOBI: Oh no, that’s not right. I didn’t hear it crack.
LUTHER: You heard the lady. Put some more oil on that.
BOBI: Now, let me see if I understand. I take this end here… I don’t know you… and bend it like this… and neither does Bartholomew… and put it through here… but don’t give up trying to get on my list. If you are who you say you are, then maybe we can work something out.
HARVEY: My flogger is ready now.
BOBI: Very good.
LUTHER: It still looks quite limp to me, man.
HARVEY: It’s perfectly fine. Why don’t you take a walk. My lessons aren’t meant for three people.
LUTHER: Seriously? Whatever. I’ll wait over here until you are done. (To himself): This guy seems a bit shady. I’ll need to keep my eye on him.
HARVEY: Okay now. Before I show you how to use this flogger, I’d like you to read this note I’ve prepared. It will help you remember the techniques I will show you. Here it is.
(He hands it to her.)
BOBI (reading the note): “You may think I’m just a teacher, but I’m more than that. My name is Harvey, and I want to hire you as my play partner. I can teach you everything about BDSM and life, and will service you forever. Please do me the honor of putting me on your client list.” These are your instructions? I’m sorry, but I don’t like them. I don’t need any more lessons on how to use a flogger.
(VIOLA, the OXYGEN BARISTA, enters the playroom.)
VIOLA: Ms. Bobi, Bartholomew said your lessons are over. He needs you to help decorate the main playroom for Kinsley’s play party tomorrow night. We are celebrating her contract with Philibert. There will be a mock BDSM wedding, too. It should be fun.
BOBI: Okay, thank you. Time to go. Goodbye, gentlemen. Thanks for your help today.
LUTHER: Well then. I have no reason to stay, either.
(BOBI, VIOLA, and LUTHER exit.)
HARVEY: Something is going on between Bobi and that Chadwick idiot, I know it. She clearly likes him. I can see the look in her eyes. Well, if that’s the kind of woman she is — falling for any man that comes along — I might as well just accept the offer from Wanda, the middle-aged escort who’s been after me for some time. I must keep my eye on them!
ACT 3, SCENE 2
(BARTHOLOMEW, GEORGE, TRAVIS, LUTHER, KINSLEY, and BOBI are gathered outside The Riding Crop. The mock BDSM wedding is about to begin inside the main playroom, where KINSLEY — dressed in a black leather corset dress and thigh-high black leather boots with three inch heels — is supposed to put a collar around PHILIBERT’S neck to signify he is her slave, and she is his mistress. There are numerous other friends and guests waiting to go inside as well.)
BARTHOLOMEW: It’s 9:55 p.m. Where is Philibert? He was supposed to be here an hour ago. There are all these people here waiting to play and celebrate. This is quite embarrassing.
KINSLEY: Embarrassing? That’s an understatement. Why did I agree to this? I can’t believe I listened to you, Bartholomew. It was against my better judgement. You told me everything would be fine, that it would all be okay in the end. Does this look like everything is okay? This Philibert is a total jackass! I should have known! He wanted everything set up so quickly, and it’s all part of his game, probably some elaborate April Fool’s joke! He’ll hire a thousand mistresses, arrange for a mock wedding, make them get dressed up in kinky gear, and then stand them up! And now everyone will point at poor Kinsley and say, “Look! There’s crazy Philibert’s mistress — if only he had bothered to show up for the mock wedding!”
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Ms. Kinsley, don’t worry. I’m sure it’s not an April Fool’s joke. Philibert might be a prankster and clown, but he definitely honors his word. There must be some kind of emergency.
KINSLEY: I wish I’d never met him!
(She runs inside the club, crying. BOBI and other guests follow her inside.)
BARTHOLOMEW: I’m so sorry, everyone. Philibert’s rudeness is unacceptable.
(VIOLA arrives from down the street.)
VIOLA: Good news. Philibert’s coming.
BARTHOLOMEW: He’s here? Now?
VIOLA: He will be here.
BARTHOLOMEW: When.
VIOLA: When he comes to the front doors and stands where I’m standing.
BATHOLOMEW: Stop your fooling around. Is Philibert here or not?
VIOLA: Oh yes. And you won’t believe what he’s wearing.
BARTHOLOMEW: What is he wearing?
VIOLA: Let’s say even the Village People would be embarrassed. He’s got on a black latex muscle shirt and tight latex pants, only there’s no crotch — so his package is hanging out like a seven-inch sausage. He’s not wearing shoes, and his feet are caked with mud. Around his ankles are rusty shackles with broken chains. He’s also wearing an elephant mask, complete with a long rubber trunk, big flappy ears, and white plastic tusks.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): That’s an odd way to dress for a party, though it is technically a fetish club. Philibert does have some strange tastes.
BARTHOLOMEW: At least he showed up, no matter how he looks. But wait? Is this him?
(PHILIBERT enters.)
PHILIBERT: Hello! Welcome, gentlemen and ladies! Philibert has arrived!
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): No offense, Philibert, but your outfit —
PHILIBERT: What about my outfit?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Is this appropriate for your guests?
PHILIBERT: Of course it is! But don’t worry about that. Where is Kinsley, my beloved mistress? Why are all of you staring?
BARTHOLOMEW: Sir, your dick is hanging out. Do you realize this?
PHILIBERT: That is my trunk, good sir. I’m an elephant.
BARTHOLOMEW: An elephant?
PHILIBERT: Of course. I just broke free from a safari. Ivory hunters tried to kill me for my tusks. It was quite a battle. But where is Kinsley! I’ve already been away from her for too long!
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Don’t meet Kinsley like this, please. Maybe you should cover yourself, and wipe off your muddy feet. I have some clothes you can put on inside.
PHILIBERT: No need. I’m fine, my friend.
BARTHOLOMEW: Seriously? You’re going to have your mock wedding dressed like this?
PHILIBERT: I am indeed. But enough about my clothes. She’s not starting a relationship with my latex pants or my ivory tusks, but with me. Now if you’ll excuse me folks, I have a mock wedding to attend.
(He exits and goes inside the club.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Let me go in after him. Hopefully, we can still salvage the night.
(BARTHOLOMEW exits and goes inside the club.)
(Only TRAVIS and LUTHER are left outside. They lean against the wall of the club, smoking cigarettes and trying to figure out how LUTHER can still become a client of BOBI’S. Time passes. Inside the club, the mock BDSM wedding is finally taking place in the main playroom between PHILIBERT and KINSLEY.)
TRAVIS (talking to LUTHER outside the club): Like I said, I promised Bartholomew that your father Virgil would agree to put The Riding Crop in his next book, and he was very excited. He said as long as he spoke to your father and got his word, you would be on Bobi’s client list. You could even host a play party with her, and have a mock BDSM wedding, too.
LUTHER: That’s wonderful, Travis. Very well done. But what about my father? He’s not going to agree to put this goofy San Francisco fetish club in one of his sexology books.
TRAVIS: We’ll find someone to play the part of your father, it’s not a big deal. Maybe we can find a heroin addict on the street, or a homeless person, and dress them up like a college professor. There are so many degenerates to choose from in this city, I’m sure we can find someone who looks like your father. We can give them a tweed jacket with elbow patches, and a pipe. We’ll even throw one of your dad’s sex books under his arm, and promise him a bag of dope or a bottle of whiskey, or some cash. I’m not worried about it. You’re good as gold, my friend.
LUTHER: Okay. Sound like a plan. But I’d better go. Someone is coming outside.
(The club doors open and GEORGE comes out.)
TRAVIS (now as LUTHER): Hey, George. Is the mock wedding over?
GEORGE: Oh yes. The two are now hitched — BDSM play partners for life!
TRAVIS (now as LUTHER): Wonderful. But wait, why are you laughing?
GEORGE: It was the most hilarious thing I’d ever seen!
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Hilarious, you say?
GEORGE: Yes! If you think Kinsley is crazy, you should have seen Philibert.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): What happened?
GEORGE: I’ll tell you. They had the mock BDSM wedding, where Kinsley was supposed to put a collar around Philibert’s neck, to symbolize that he is her slave, and she is his mistress. Bartholomew himself was doing the ceremony. But right before Kinsley could buckle the collar on his neck, Philibert drops to the floor on his hands and knees, and starts pretending to be an elephant! He starts making the loudest, most obnoxious elephant sounds — like a trumpet — crawling around on the floor, swinging his rubber elephant trunk. “You’ll never get my ivory tusks!” he shouts, and kicks his leg back like a donkey! He accidently hit Bartholomew, and he fell to the floor!
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): And what was Kinsley doing during all this?
GEORGE: She was totally horrified. Her eyes were bugging out and her mouth was wide open. That’s when Philibert stood up, grabbed the collar, and tossed it at Bartholomew’s head! “And now we’re married!” Philibert shouted. “It’s time for the elephant walk!”
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Elephant walk?
GEORGE: Yes. This is when Philibert insisted Kinsley take him by the trunk and walk him around the room, to show all the guests in the club that they were now an official couple — mistress and elephant. “Grab my trunk!” he says to her, pointing to the one hanging between his legs. And she does! She grabs his penis and yanks it so hard I thought it was going to come right off! Philibert makes this crazy face, and just when everyone thinks he’s going to scream and fall to the ground in pain, he smiles and starts walking around the room with her! The elephant walk, he calls it!
(The doors to the club open.)
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Look. I think they are coming outside.
(BARTHOLOMEW, BOBI, and the invited guests follow PHILIBERT and KINSLEY outside to the front of the club. KINSLEY is no longer holding PHILIBERT’S penis.)
PHILIBERT: Friends, invited guests, this concludes our elephant walk, as well as our wonderful wedding. Sadly, there will be no play party tonight, as I’ve been called away to Los Angeles for some urgent business.
BARTHOLOMEW: Are you leaving tonight?
PHILIBERT: Unfortunately, yes. I must go now. There is a very serious matter I must attend to. Very serious. If you knew how serious, you would be shouting at me to be gone already. So gentlemen, ladies, good friends — thank you for coming out tonight. Thank you for witnessing our beautiful ceremony, and for partaking in our wonderful elephant walk. Have a great time at the play party, and make sure you flog your partner with some gusto in my honor. Farewell.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Can you at least stay for one play session?
PHILIBERT: I cannot.
GEORGE: What if I ask you to stay?
PHILIBERT: It doesn’t matter. I must go.
KINSELY: What if I ask you?
PHILIBERT: Sure, my sweetest.
KINSLEY: You will stay?
PHILIBERT: You can ask me to stay. But stay I cannot, no matter how you ask me.
KINSLEY: If you truly want me, you’ll stay.
PHILIBERT (reaching for his car keys): Now then. Where did I park my car?
KINSLEY: Fine. You can do what you want. But I’m not going with you. I know we have a contract — and that you hired me for the entire weekend, but I’m not going. Not now, not later tonight, not tomorrow. I won’t go until I decide it’s time. There’s the way to your car. You’d better get going if you want to be in LA before the morning.
BARTHOLOMEW: Kinsley, please. Don’t be angry.
KINSLEY: Bartholomew, stay out of this! Mind you own business. He’ll stay if I want him to.
GEORGE: Ah, so begins their fruitful play partnership.
KINSLEY: Gentlemen, go back inside. We will have our play party, just as planned. More women need to stand up for themselves around this place.
PHILIBERT: You heard the lady, go back inside the club. All of you. Obey Kinsley when she speaks. Have a grand old time with each other. Help yourself to the chips and dips, and chains and whips. Tie each other up, and spank your friends’ bottoms. But as for my sweetest Kinsley, she must go with me. We have a contract, after all. She’s my play partner now, not yours. She’s mine. All mine. She’s my property, my mistress. My elephant tamer! Hands off! Touch her if you dare! I have a legal contract here, yes I do. Stand back! Don’t be afraid, my sweetest. I’ll protect you.
(PHILIBERT and Kinsley exit.)
BARTHOLOMEW: No, let them go. A perfect couple!
GEORGE: My goodness, did you see that? I almost died laughing!
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire life.
LUTHER (as CHADWICK): Bobi, what do you think of Kinsley now?
BOBI: I think a madwoman has met her match.
GEORGE: Mistress Kinsley — what a catch!
BARTHOLOMEW: Only in San Francisco. Although our hosts have gone for the night, let’s head back inside the club and continue the play party. No use letting the celebration go to waste.
(They all exit.)
ACT 4, SCENE 1
(PHILIBERT and KINSLEY arrive at his luxury high rise apartment in downtown Los Angeles the following morning. They come through the big glass doors into the fancy lobby, where a tall and awkward DOORMAN is waiting. The couple is still dressed in their outfits from the previous evening, although Kinsley has put on a sweater over her corset dress, and PHILIBERT has taken off the elephant mask.)
(The DOORMAN stares at PHILIBERT’S crotch-less latex pants.)
PHILIBERT (to the DOORMAN): Do you have a problem with your eyes?
DOORMAN: No sir.
PHILIBERT: Are you sure? It seems to me you are staring at my trunk. (He shakes his hips so his penis flaps up-and-down.) I’ve just returned from safari, in case you were wondering. Elephant hunting. (He wipes his muddy bare feet on the rug.) Get the elevator for us, chop-chop. We are tired. We’ve been traveling all night. Why don’t you help the lady. Can’t you see she’s wearing three inch heels?
(The DOORMAN goes over to assist KINSLEY.)
DOORMAN: Madam, let me help you —
KINSLEY (pushing him away): Please! I am fine.
PHILIBERT: What in god’s name are you doing? Get over here, you oaf. Catch the elevator for us. Move it! Thirty-seventh floor.
DOORMAN: Yes sir.
(He puts them in the elevator and pushes button 37.)
PHILIBERT: What are you doing? I said the twenty-seventh floor.
DOORMAN: I thought you said thirty-seven, sir.
PHILIBERT: I said twenty-seven.
KINSLEY: You said thirty-seven. I heard it too.
PHILIBERT: Don’t encourage him, dearest. Now then! Floor twenty-seven, please!
(The DOORMAN pushes button 27 and exits.)
(PHILIBERT and KINSLEY ride the elevator to the 27th floor, get out. They enter PHILIBERT’S apartment. MONROE, a middle-aged British butler, is asleep in his room. PHILIBERT starts banging on his bedroom door.)
PHILBERT: Monroe! Wake up, you unconscionable fiend! We have a guest — the beautiful Mistress Kinsley! Monroe! Get up! Snap to it, you mole!
(MONROE opens his bedroom door, dressed in his pajamas. He yawns and rubs his eyes.)
MONROE: Good morning, sir. I wasn’t expecting you home this morning.
PHILIBERT: No? Well here we are. And we are tired and very hungry. We’ve been traveling all night. Fix us some breakfast. Chop-chop. And bring me my slippers, and some water for the lady. Now! Get moving! (To KINSLEY): Come, my darling. Make yourself at home.
(MONROE starts cooking breakfast. He brings a glass of water for KINSLEY. PHILIBERT grabs his arm, causing the water to spill on the rug.)
PHILIBERT: You moron! Look what you’ve done!
(PHILIBERT smacks MONROE on the head.)
KINSLEY: Philibert, please! It was an accident.
PHILIBERT: You bastard! You incompetent fool! Kinsley, why don’t you sit down in the kitchen. I’m sure you are starving. Monroe, where are my slippers!
MONEROE: Coming, sir.
PHILIBERT: Well get moving. And why is the breakfast table still empty?
(After bringing PHILIBERT his slippers, MONROE brings a heaping plate of bacon and eggs to the table.)
PHILIBERT: What is this?
MONROE: Bacon and eggs, sir.
PHILIBERT: No, what’s this. This spot on the eggs.
MONROE: I don’t see a spot, sir.
PHILIBERT: This spot!
(He throws the plate of bacon and eggs on the floor.)
KINSLEY: Please, Philibert! The eggs were fine.
PHILIBERT: They are not fine — they are rotten! Who bought these spoiled eggs? Was it you, Monroe? You bought these eggs, didn’t you! How dare you serve this slop to my beautiful mistress! (To KINSLEY): Don’t worry about this, Kinsley. We don’t need to eat anyway. We need rest, as we’ve been driving all night. We have a big weekend ahead of us. Why don’t you go lie down in the bedroom and get some rest. You must be exhausted.
(They exit and go into the bedroom.)
(MONROE cleans up the mess on the kitchen floor. When he’s finished, he exits and goes back to his room.)
(PHILIBERT enters, coming back into the kitchen from his bedroom. KINSLEY is still resting in bed.)
PHILIBERT: So now I’ve begun the process of taming this headstrong beauty. She is a tough one, but I’m confident I can handle her. I want her as my mistress, but she must know who is in charge. I will top her from the bottom, as I’ve been planning all along. She can handcuff me, tie me to a cross and whip me, smother my face with her glorious round bottom, but only according to my fancy. She must learn my limits and how to push them, while understanding I keep all the power and control. In my apartment I have the most delightful play room in all of Los Angeles, and Kinsley will learn how to use it. She will not eat until she does so. What better way to have our partnership grow?
(He exits.)
ACT 4, SCENE 2
(TRAVIS as LUTHER, and HARVEY as LAMBERT, are standing outside The Riding Crop.)
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Wait a second, Lambert. Are you saying that Bobi likes another guy better than me? I don’t believe it.
HARVEY (as LAMBERT): I’m telling you the truth, Luther. Here. Let’s go inside the club and spy on her. She’s getting a lesson from a guy named Chadwick, who she clearly likes.
(They go inside and watch CHADWICK tutoring BOBI. CHADWICK is wearing his goofy rubber body suit, and BOBI is dressed as a schoolgirl — blouse, short plaid skirt, Mary Janes.)
LUTHER (as CHADWICK): So Bobi, have you been practicing your rope-tying?
BOBI: Yes I have. I’m an expert now.
LUTHER (as CHADWICK): Well maybe you can tie me up.
BOBI: Oh, I’d like that very much.
(The two kiss. LUTHER puts his hand up BOBI’S skirt. She moans softly.)
HARVEY (as LAMBERT): There you have it! The two are clearly involved. He’s got his hand up her skirt, for goodness sake. I thought you said Bobi doesn’t like anyone but you?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): No! This can’t be! I’m so heartbroken!
HARVEY (as LAMBERT): Yes, it’s true. Enough of these games. Allow me to reveal myself. I’m not really Lambert, an expert flogger. My name is Harvey, and I’ve been wasting a lot of time trying to get on a woman’s client list who obviously has no taste in play partners.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Yes, I’ve heard about your passion for Bobi, and how you want so badly to get on her client list. I feel the same way as you. Now that she’s with some other man, I too will give up chasing her like some hopeless romantic.
HARVEY: Just look at them, giving each other those puppy dog eyes. And all that heavy petting. How pathetic! I’m officially done with her!
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Me too. Forget Bobi and all the trouble she’s caused!
HARVEY: Amen to that. Chadwick can have her. As for me, I’m going to schedule a play session with this older submissive named Wanda, who’s been after me for weeks. She was even considering hosting a play party with me. She’s a little stubborn and mouthy, but I’m planning on taming her. I’m heading to Philibert’s taming school in Los Angeles. He’s a genius, don’t you know. Anyway, I must be going now. Good day to you, Luther.
(He exits.)
(TRAVIS goes into the playroom with LUTHER and BOBI.)
TRAVIS: Well, don’t you two make a cute play couple. (To LUTHER): Can I smell your fingers?
LUTHER (chuckling): Wouldn’t you like that.
BOBI: Is Langdon gone?
TRAVIS: That he is.
BOBI: For good?
TRAVIS: Yes, we’ve gotten rid of him. He’s finished with young submissives. He’s going to become a client of this older escort named Wanda.
BOBI: Thank god. And good for him!
TRAVIS: Yes, and he’s going to tame her. He’s headed to the taming school in Los Angeles.
BOBI: No? He really said that? Is there such a place?
TRAVIS: Oh yes. Philibert is the headmaster. He teaches ways to tame a stubborn escort and silence her chattering tongue.
BOBI: How rude. That Philibert is quite a character.
LUTHER: He’s one crazy sonnavabitch. (To TRAVIS): Well, good friend, we should be going now.
TRAVIS: Get some dinner?
LUTHER: Sure. (To BOBI): Goodbye until next time.
(LUTHER and TRAVIS leave the club and go outside.)
(On the curb across the street is a HOMELESS MAN who resembles VIRGIL HAVELOCK, LUTHER’S father. He’s about the same age, and has a similar receding hairline and scruffy beard.)
TRAVIS: I don’t believe it. Look over there!
LUTHER: What?
TRAVIS: That homeless man. He looks a lot like your father.
LUTHER (squinting to see the man): Him? Not really.
TRAVIS: Sure he does. Let’s go over and talk to him.
(They cross the street.)
TRAVIS (talking to the HOMELESS MAN): Sir? Excuse me, sir?
HOMELESS MAN: Huh? What do you want?
TRAVIS: I’d like to offer you a deal, if I may. Do you like to shoot heroin? Perhaps drink whiskey?
HOMELESS MAN: Excuse me?
TRAVIS (slapping his arm like a heroin addict): Smack? Do you do smack? The big H? The white lady?
HOMELESS MAN: Go away. I don’t deal drugs.
LUTHER: No, we aren’t looking for drugs. We’re asking if you want drugs.
HOMELESS MAN: Are you two cops or something?
TRAVIS: Cops? Ha, that’s funny. Not at all. We’re just asking because we need a favor, and we would be willing to provide you with some compensation.
HOMELESS MAN: I like Hennessey. That’s my drink of choice.
TRAVIS: Wonderful. Would you like to trade a bottle of Hennessey for a small favor?
HOMELESS MAN: I don’t know. What’s the favor?
LUTHER: You see that club right there? The Riding Crop?
HOMELESS MAN: Yes.
LUTHER: Well, we need you to go inside there and pretend to be my father. You’ll need to put on some nice clothes and act like a college professor.
HOMELESS MAN: College professor?
TRAVIS: Yes, but don’t worry. You don’t have to teach anything.
LUTHER: Come on, let’s go get a drink. What’s your favorite bar? We’ll explain all of this over a nice mug of beer.
(They all exit.)
ACT 4, SCENE 3
(PHILIBERT, KINSLEY, and HARVEY are inside the BDSM playroom in PHILIBERT’S apartment. PHILIBERT is standing naked in the middle of the room, his arms handcuffed to a suspension bar above his head. KINSLEY, dressed in her same corset dress and thigh high boots from the mock wedding, is standing in front of PHILIBERT with an electric stimulation wand. HARVEY is sitting in a chair in the doorway, watching the two of them, hoping to get pointers on how to tame unruly women.)
KINSLEY (holding the wand to PHILIBERT’S penis): I’m starving. Tell Monroe to make some more food.
PHILIBERT: There’s no food in this house.
KINSLEY: You lie. I know there’s food in the fridge. But your goofy butler isn’t letting me go in there. (She holds the wand to his penis and shocks him.) Shall I do it again?
PHILIBERT: Do what? I didn’t feel anything.
(She cranks up the current to full flow, and jams the wand into his testicles. PHILIBERT groans in pain.)
KINSLEY: How’s that? Feel anything this time?
PHILIBERT: Not really.
KINSLEY (shocking him again): Now?
PHILIBERT (face red): Nope. Still nothing.
(KINSLEY puts down the wand and grabs a wooden paddle from the wall. She walks over to PHILIBERT and whacks it against his penis. PHILIBERT winces.)
KINSLEY: How about now?
PHILIBERT (trying to compose himself): Nothing.
(She smashes his balls with the paddle once, twice, three times. PHILIBERT grits his teeth.)
KINSLEY: Any food in the fridge?
PHILIBERT (groaning): No.
KINSLEY: Damn you Philibert! I’m hungry!
HARVEY (to himself): I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
(KINSLEY drops the paddle on the floor. She takes a three-inch steel nail off the fully stocked BDSM equipment table and holds it up to PHILIBERT.)
KINSELY: See this?
PHILIBERT: You wouldn’t.
KINSSLEY: I would.
(She grabs his penis and pushes the tip of the nail into his urethra. No reaction from him. She pushes further. Still nothing. She forces it all the way inside his dick. PHILIBERT smiles.)
(She brings over a workbench and places it under his penis, so that his dick is flat on the table. She yanks the nail out of his penis and throws it on the floor. He groans. She brings over a hammer, sets it down on the table next to his penis.)
KINSLEY: You see this?
PHILIBERT: Yes, what of it?
KINSLEY: Where’s the food?
PHILIBERT: I don’t know what you mean.
KINSLEY: I’m starving.
PHILIBERT: And?
(She pounds his dick with the hammer. PHILIBERT screams. HARVEY’s eyes bug out of his head.)
KINSLEY: Tell Monroe to make something to eat.
PHILIBERT (gaining his composure): Who’s Monroe?
KINSLEY: Your butler.
PHILIBERT: Who?
KINSLEY: I’m hungry!
PHILIBERT: I have nothing.
(She pounds his dick with the hammer. Philibert holds back his scream, sweat beading on his brow. She pounds his dick once more, and he somehow manages to keep the scream inside. She pounds him a third time, even harder. He finally cracks, erupting in agony.)
KINSLEY: The food. Where is it?
PHILIBERT (breathing heavily): Uncuff my hands and I’ll tell you.
(She uncuffs him.)
KINSLEY: Well?
PHILIBERT: Take off your corset and panties. Keep the boots on though.
(She strips off her black leather corset and panties. She’s completely naked except for the thigh-high boots. Her long black hair hangs down over her large breasts. She saunters over to him, her boot heels giving her hips a sexy swivel. She stands directly in front of him.)
KINSLEY: Like this?
PHILIBERT: Yes. (He lays down on the floor, flat on his back.) Now make me lick your boots. Stick the leather in my face.
(She shoves her boot in his face.)
KINSLEY: Lick my boots, you pathetic loser. (He licks them.) No, don’t use your hand, just your mouth and tongue. I don’t want your filthy hands touching my pristine leather. Do you want to scuff it?
(He continues licking the boots. His penis, which is red and swollen from the hammer, is getting erect.)
PHILIBERT: I love it. Now take off your boots and walk all over me with your dirty feet.
(She pulls off her thigh high leather boots. Her feet are soft, her toenails painted with a sexy French pedicure. She walks over to Philibert and stands on his chest with her full weight. She pushes her left foot into his face.)
KINSLEY: Lick me feet, boy. Clean my toes. (He licks them, his penis getting harder.) That’s it, you little pervert. You know you like it.
PHILIBERT: Yes, now make me worship your ass. Get on your knees and shove your ass in my face and tell me to worship it, to sniff your asshole.
(She gets into a sixty-nine with him, pushing her ass into his face. His cock is now rock hard. It’s several inches from her face. She moves her mouth every so close to it, allowing her breath to tickle it.)
KINSLEY: Sniff my nasty asshole, you fucking loser. Yeah, get your face right in there. You like that, don’t you — you pervert. You like sniffing my asshole. Go ahead. Tell me how much you love my ass. Worship it, you pathetic fuck! Worship it!
PHILIBERT: Yes, keep talking like that. Keep going.
KINSLEY: Why don’t you taste my ass, while you’re at it. Lick out my asshole. Oh yeah, that’s it. Lick me out. Keep going, uh-huh. You’re so naughty, such a nasty little pervert. You like licking out girl’s assholes, don’t you?
PHILIBERT: Yes! Oh fuck, oh shit! Ahhhhh!
(He ejaculates, shooting a load all over himself. Kinsley gets up.)
KINSLEY: Looks like you made a mess. Here’s a towel.
PHILIBERT: Holy shit. That was something.
KINSLEY: Yes it was. (She starts getting dressed.) Can we eat now? Seriously, I’m famished.
PHILIBERT (sitting up): I’m sorry, Kinsley. I thought you heard. We’re all out of food.
KINSLEY: Philibert! For god’s sake!
HARVEY (still watching form across the room): This man is truly a genius.
ACT 4, SCENE 4
(TRAVIS, disguised as LUTHER, is standing outside The Riding Crop with the HOMELESS MAN, who is dressed like VIRGIL HAVELOCK.)
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): So this is it. We’re about to go inside. Remember, you’ve agreed to put the club into your next book, which is titled, “Women Are From Venus, Perverts Are From San Francisco.” Do you need another sip of Hennessy?
HOMELESS MAN: No, I’m good.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Here. Take a breath mint. So you don’t reek like a liquor store.
(He eats the mint. They go inside the club. BARTHOLOMEW greets them immediately.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Well, if it isn’t the famous Virgil Havelock! It’s such an honor to have you in our club. Please, come inside and take a seat at our oxygen bar. Have you ever been to a fetish club before?
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): No, I don’t think so.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Really father? Never? Well, this is the hottest fetish club in the city. Maybe in the whole state of California. It’s called The Riding Crop. And it has an oxygen bar. With tons of flavors. I’m so glad you’re going to include them in your new book. This is Bartholomew, by the way. He is the manager.
(They shake hands.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Would you like a hit of oxygen? Free of charge?
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): What’s in it?
BARTHOLOMEW: Oxygen, of course.
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): No thanks.
BARTHOLOMEW: Very well. Tell us a little about the new book, if you will.
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): Well, it’s called, “Women Are From Venus, Perverts Are From San Francisco.”
BARTHOLOMEW: Great title, by the way.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Fantastic title.
BARTHOLOMEW: Please, tell us more.
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): It’s a book, a fetish book, about clubs in the city. About perverts. Perverts in San Francisco.
BARTHOLOMEW: Wonderful.
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): And I’m putting your club in the book. This club. As a favor to my son. I know he promised you I would. He tells me there’s this girl he’s trying to bang and —
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): And the club will be front and center, to make sure there’s lots of publicity. You can’t beat free advertising, you know.
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): That’s right, son. Free advertising. You can’t beat it. Or shake a stick at it.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): You’re so right, father.
BARTHOLOMEW: Yes. I agree. It’s so nice to have you in our club, Professor Havelock. And since Luther kept his word about your book, I now have to keep mine. I’d like to officially put Luther on Bobi’s client list. Unfortunately, there’s just one problem.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): What’s that?
BARTHOLOMEW: Bobi’s not here right now, and she has her schedule with her. Today’s Sunday, and she has the day off. I know it seems like just a formality, but I believe our escorts should give the final consent before we schedule visits. Would you be able to come back tomorrow? How about if we meet again Monday afternoon? She’ll be available then. Once she gives the final word, we can even start preparations for the play party Saturday night, even the mock wedding to put on her collar.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): What do you say, father? Come back tomorrow? We can talk to Mr. Hennessy again?
HOMELESS MAN (as HAVELOCK): You mean get another bottle?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Yes. Of course.
BARTHOLOMEW: Another bottle?
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): What father means is another book. His new book. Book, bottle. It’s been a long drive down from Seattle. So why don’t we say goodbye, and come back tomorrow. Bobi will be here then. We can make all of this official. Get on the list and such. Get the final green light for Saturday’s party and mock wedding.
BARTHOLOMEW: Of course. We can make things final then.
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): Great. We’ll see you tomorrow. Come on, father. Let’s get going. Let’s get out of Bartholomew’s hair so he can run his club.
ACT 4, SCENE 5
(PHILIBERT, KINSLEY, and HARVEY are in the car the following Monday morning, driving back to San Francisco from Los Angeles. PHILIBERT has agreed to stop at a diner for breakfast before they get on the highway. None of them have eaten since Saturday night.)
PHILIBERT: There’s a diner right near the college campus. They make a great omelette. Let’s head over there. My goodness, the moon is bright tonight!
KINSLEY: The moon? What are you talking about? Are you delirious? You need to eat something.
PHILIBERT: Delirious? Not at all. It’s the moon that is shining, my love.
KINSLEY: It is not the moon, for god’s sake. It’s seven in the morning. It’s the sun.
PHILIBERT: Now I swear on my uncle’s ashes, it is the moon. Or star, or comet, or whatever I say it is. If you keep arguing with me, we will not stop and eat anything at all. In fact, I can turn the car around, and we can go back to my apartment and play more games.
HARVEY (to KINSLEY): Just agree with him already, or we’ll never have breakfast. I’m starving.
KINSLEY: Fine. Just keep driving, for god’s sake. It can be whatever you want. I’m so over this.
PHILIBERT: I say it is the moon.
KINSLEY: Then it is the moon.
PHILIBERT: What, have you gone mad? It is the sun. It’s seven in the morning, dear Kinsley.
KINSLEY: Then god be blessed, it is the blessed sun. Or whatever you want to call it. What it is for Philibert, it is for Kinsley.
HARVEY: Philibert, come on. Let’s eat. You’ve won the battle.
(They drive to the diner and pull over. In the parking lot, they run into VIRGIL HAVELOCK, professor of sexology.)
PHILIBERT (talking to VIRGIL): Excuse me, madam. Do you know if they serve shit on a shingle in this diner? You are quite lovely, I must say. A sweet and modest young girl. What do you think, Kinsley? Isn’t she lovely? A darling little thing? Tell her how beautiful she is.
HARVEY (to himself): No, Philibert. Not now. Let’s just eat.
KINSLEY: Sweet young lady, you are a sight for sore eyes. Where are you off to?
PHILIBERT: Have you gone mad, Kinsley? This is not a young woman, but an older man. Can’t you see his thinning hair, and the nets of wrinkles around his eyes?
KINSLEY: Oh my goodness, you are right. Sorry for the mistake, good sir. My eyes must have been blinded by the sun.
PHILIBERT: You must pardon her. She hasn’t eaten in a while. But you do look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?
HAVELOCK: I am Virgil Havelock, professor of sexology. I gave a guest lecture at UCLA on sadomasochism this weekend.
PHILIBERT: Amazing! I know your son, Luther. He’s in San Francisco right now, which is where we’re headed. He says you’re writing a book about The Riding Crop?
HAVELOCK: The Riding Crop?
KINSLEY: Yes, a fetish club in San Francisco.
HAVELOCK: I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I am headed to San Francisco, interestingly enough.
PHILIBERT: Really? To visit your son?
HAVELOCK: No, to do a book signing. (He takes a text from his briefcase.) This is my latest work — “Frottage in the Age of Hyper-Masculinity.”
PHILIBERT: That’s wonderful. You must visit The Riding Crop when you arrive. It’s a fetish club. Your son goes there often. In fact, he’ll probably be there this afternoon.
HAVELOCK: Maybe I’ll stop by and surprise him. It depends on my schedule. I wish I could talk, but I have to be getting on the road.
PHILIBERT: Of course. Have a good day, professor.
(HAVELOCK exits.)
KINSLEY: Finally. Now we can eat. Let’s go, Philibert.
(KINSLEY and PHILIBERT exit.)
HARVEY: Well, Philibert, you are a true genius. When we get back to town, I will find Wanda, the older escort, and hire her at last. I think I’ve learned enough from you to handle anything that comes out of her mouth.
ACT 5, SCENE 1
(TRAVIS as LUTHER, and HOMELESS MAN as HAVELOCK, return to The Riding Crop to finalize the play party and client list. BARTHOLOMEW and BOBI are busy in the back of the club, so the two men wait up front at the oxygen bar.)
TRAVIS (as LUTHER): We are almost finished here. As soon as Bartholomew and Bobi come out, we can wrap up this business and be done with it. I’m going across the street to get your bottle of Hennessy. I’ll be right back. Just sit tight.
(TRAVIS exits.)
(VIRGIL HAVELOCK enters the club. He sits down at the oxygen bar next to HOMELESS MAN.)
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Good afternoon, sir. Do you know if Luther Havelock is here today?
HOMELESS MAN: Who are you?
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: I’m his father.
HOMELESS MAN: His father?
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: That’s right. Have you seen him here today?
HOMELESS MAN: Well, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but I’m Luther Havelock’s father.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Excuse me?
HOMELESS MAN: I said I’m his father. He’s across the street getting me my bottle of Hennessy. We have a deal. I get a bottle, he gets to bang that broad with the blond hair who works here.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Sir, I’m not sure what in god’s name you are talking about, but I am Luther’s father.
HOMELESS MAN: Listen, if he promised you a bottle too, that’s fine. I don’t care how many fathers this guy’s supposed to have. But I need you to get out of here, because Bartholomew’s going to be coming out soon, and I need a drink bad. If you fuck this up, Luther won’t give me my Hennessy.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Sir, where is my son?
HOMELESS MAN: I told you. At the liquor store across the street. Getting my bottle. You need to go away. Bartholomew’s coming out.
(BARTHOLOMEW enters.)
BARTHOLOMEW (to HOMELESS MAN): Good afternoon, Professor Havelock. I’m so glad you could make it back here. Great news: Bobi is on board with the play party for this Saturday night, which means Luther is now officially on her client list. She even wants to have a mock BDSM wedding, so your son can put a collar on her.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: What is going on here? Where is Luther?
BARTHOLOMEW (to HAVELOCK): Oh, hello sir. Can I help you with something? Would you like a hit of oxygen?
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: No thank you. Who is this man you are talking to?
BARTHOLOMEW: This is the esteemed sexologist, Professor Havelock. He’s here because he’s writing a new book, and he’s agreed to put our club in it. (To HOMELESS MAN): Go ahead, professor. Tell him the title.
HOMELESS MAN: The book is called, “Women Are From Venus, Perverts Are From San Francisco.”
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: What? That’s not the title of my book at all.
BARTHOLOMEW: Excuse me, sir?
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: The title of my new book is, “Frottage in the Age of Hyper-Masculinity.”
HOMELESS MAN: Frottage? What in the world is that?
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: It’s when two men rub their penises together. It’s the male version of scissors.
HOMELESS MAN: Scissors? Is that when two chicks grind their twats together?
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Yes, it is. But for women it’s more acceptable. Girls are more open with their sexuality. When guys rub their cocks together, it’s a major issue. A taboo in society. Which is why I named my book — ah, forget it. Where the hell is my son, Luther?
BATHOLOMEW: Your book does sound interesting, sir. But we’re interested in Professor Havelock’s text about our city’s perverts. He’s highlighting our BDSM club, don’t you know. We’re the only fetish club in San Francisco with an oxygen bar.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Enough of this! Both of you! I’m Professor Havelock!
HOMELESS MAN: That’s impossible, sir. I’m Professor Havelock.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: No, you are not!
HOMELESS MAN: Yes, I am.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK (grabbing the HOMELESS MAN and shaking him): Who are you? What have you done to my son! You are destroying me! You are ruining my reputation!
BARTHOLOMEW: Is this man a lunatic?
(TRAVIS as LUTHER enters the club, carrying a bottle of Hennessey.)
HOMELESS MAN: Wait, there’s my son now. Son, tell these people who I am.
TRAVIS: Why, you are my father — Professor Havelock.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK (to TRAVIS): You — you rogue! Get over here! Explain yourself! Where is my son!
BARTHOLOMEW: That is Luther. Standing right in front of you.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: No it is not! This is Travis, my son’s best friend! I’ve known him since he was a small child!
HOMELESS MAN: His name is Luther, not Travis. He’s the reason why I’m putting this club in my new sex book — him and the oxygen bar. It’s time for you to get out of here. You’re crazier than a shithouse rat.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Travis! Oh, you’ve murdered Luther and taken his Supersonics hat!
TRAVIS: Somebody call the police. This man is crazy. He needs to be locked up.
(BARTHOLOMEW calls 9-1-1. A police officer arrives.)
TRAVIS: Officer, take this crazy man to jail. He’s totally lost his mind.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Take me to jail? Wait — let me show you something. My new book. I have it in my briefcase. (He takes it out.) Look, officer. That’s my picture, that’s me: Professor Virgil Havelock.
BARTHOLOMEW: What is going on here?
(LUTHER and BOBI enter from one of the playrooms in the back.)
TRAVIS (to HOMELESS MAN): We’re ruined, my friend. Here, take your bottle. Let’s get out of here.
(TRAVIS and HOMELESS MAN exit, running out the front door.)
(LUTHER and BOBI kneel.)
LUTHER: Forgive me, sweet father.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Oh, my son. You are alive.
BOBI: Forgive me, Bartholomew.
BARTHOLOMEW: Why? What did you do? Where did Luther go?
LUTHER: Here I am, the real Luther — son of the real Virgil Havelock. I’ve been courting Bobi in secret to get on her client list.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: Where is that jackass Travis, who tried to ruin my reputation?
BARTHOLOMEW: Wait a second here. Isn’t this Chadwick, who’s been instructing Bobi?
BOBI: Chadwick has changed into Luther.
LUTHER: My love and respect for Bobi set all this in motion. My feelings for her caused me to change places with Travis, while he pretended to be me. Whatever Travis did, I asked him to do. It’s all my fault. Don’t blame him — blame me. I’m sorry, father.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: No, Travis is going to pay for this. You can’t simply ruin a person’s reputation, and try to send them to jail. I’m not going to forget this, believe me. I’ve wasted too much time in this club already. Luther, I wanted to come and surprise you, let you know I’ve deposited more money into your account. So you can continue to travel and see new things. Now I’m not so sure I’ve made the right decision.
LUTHER: You have, father. I still want to travel and explore.
VIRGIL HAVELOCK: We’ll see about that. But it’s getting late, and I have another book signing to attend. Excuse me for not going into one of the playrooms. I need to be getting on my way.
(He exits.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Yes, and I’ve been lied to as well. I’ve been made a fool of, as a manager of this fetish club. Bobi, I’m disappointed in you. All I’ve tried to do was protect you, and make sure I always had your consent. What you did was dishonest. Trust is a hard thing to get back.
(He exits.)
LUTHER: Come now, Bobi. Let’s go back inside. Our love will get us through this. We must get ready for Saturday’s festivities.
ACT 5, SCENE 2
(BARTHOLOMEW, KINSLEY, PHILIBERT, BOBI, LUTHER, HARVEY, WANDA, and VIOLA sit around the oxygen bar at the Riding Crop, finally taking the time to enjoy each other’s company. A buffet has been set up, compliments of BOBI and LUTHER. Their mock wedding has ended, and everyone is now eating and having a good time.)
LUTHER (making a toast): Thank you all for coming to our play wedding. I have put a leather collar on my dearest Bobi — a symbol of our fetish relationship. She is now officially my BDSM slave, and I am her master. She is the most beautiful submissive I have ever met, and it’s an honor to dominate her. Thankfully, the craziness of the past week is behind us, and all has been forgiven. Bartholomew is indeed a generous and kind-hearted club manager, and Bobi and I appreciate his wisdom and guidance. So enjoy the food, and if you feel so inclined, huff some more gas from the oxygen bar. It’s all on me and Bobi.
PHILIBERT: Nothing but eat and huff oxygen, eat and huff oxygen!
BARTHOLOMEW: San Francisco can afford this decadent lifestyle.
PHILIBERT: San Francisco is nothing but decadent.
HARVEY: Let’s hope that’s true. For both me and Wanda’s sakes.
PHILIBERT: Ah, yes. Wanda. Your new play partner. Are you still an expert on flogging? There is definitely a lot of whipping going on in that relationship.
WANDA: Don’t worry, he doesn’t control me.
PHILIBERT: Of course he doesn’t. I was talking about you — you’ve got him whipped.
WANDA: He who’s drunk thinks the room spins round.
KINSLEY: What do you mean by that, Wanda?
WANDA: That’s what I conceive of Philibert.
PHILIBERT: Conceive? You want to have my baby? It would be a geriatric pregnancy.
HARVEY: Wanda means that that’s how she sees you, Philibert.
PHILIBERT: She’s been huffing too much oxygen.
KINSLEY: “He who’s drunk thinks the room spins round?” I still don’t get it. What do you mean, Wanda?
WANDA: Philibert, who has to deal with a shrew, projects his troubles onto Harvey. Now you know my meaning.
KINSLEY: Says the mean old woman.
PHILIBERT: Get her Kinsley!
HARVEY: Get her Wanda!
PHILIBERT: Twenty bucks Kinsley could put her on her back — and her ankles to her ears.
HARVEY: Wait, that’s my job.
PHILIBERT: Good one, Harvey!
(They toast their glasses.)
BARTHOLOMEW (to BOBI): Are you having a good time tonight, Bobi? Now that Luther put a collar on you?
BOBI (touching the leather collar): This is a play collar, for a play session. But we’re not in a playroom now.
PHILIBERT: Which means Bobi still wears the pants in that relationship!
HARVEY: It’s true!
BOBI: Come on ladies, let’s powder our noses. We don’t need to stay around and listen to these pig-headed men.
(BOBI, KINSLEY, and WANDA go to the restroom.)
BARTHOLOMEW: You must admit, men are indeed pigs.
LUTHER: And elephants.
BARTHOLOMEW: And elephants!
PHILIBERT: Good one, you two.
HARVEY: If men are pigs, what are women?
LUTHER: Wildcats, to be sure. Every one of them.
PHILIBERT: In the bedroom, yes.
BARTHOLOMEW: And saints in public.
HARVEY: Yes! Except Kinsley, of course.
PHILIBERT: Funny Harvey. Good one.
BARTHOLOMEW: Funny! But you have to admit, Philibert, that Kinsley is the biggest shrew of them all.
PHILIBERT: Not really.
LUTHER: Oh, she is.
PHILIBERT: No, she’s not. But why have a pointless argument — let’s make a simple wager.
HARVEY: A bet?
PHILIBERT: Yes, a bet. We’ll each send for our escort, and whoever’s escort is the most obedient and comes first, wins the wager.
HARVEY: I’m in. What are we betting?
LUTHER: Ten bucks.
PHILIBERT: That’s it? I’ll wager ten times that amount on Kinsley.
LUTHER: Fine. A hundred dollars.
HARVEY: Agreed.
PHILIBERT: It’s a deal. Let’s do it.
HARVEY: Who goes first?
LUTHER: I will. Viola, go into the bathroom and tell Bobi to come out to me.
(VIOLA exits and heads into the bathroom.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Luther, I’ll put up half your money that Bobi comes out.
LUTHER: Forget halves. I’ll put up the full hundred bucks myself. No, make it two-hundred.
(VIOLA comes back.)
LUTHER: Well, where is she?
VIOLA: Bobi says to tell you that she’s busy, and she cannot come out.
PHILIBERT: She said she’s busy? That’s great!
BARTHOLOMEW: I can only imagine what Kinsley’s going to say.
PHILIBERT: She won’t make excuses. I have faith in her.
HARVEY: Viola, go and ask Wanda to come out to me right away.
(VIOLA exits.)
PHILIBERT: Oh, Harvey’s going to ASK her — then she has to come!
HARVEY: It’s more than what you can do. Kinsley can’t be asked for anything.
(VIOLA returns.)
HARVEY: So, where is Wanda?
VIOLA: She just laughed. She said if you want her, you need to come to her.
PHILIBERT: Goodness, it just keeps getting worse. Incredible! This cannot be tolerated. Viola, go back into the bathroom and tell Kinsley I demand she comes out to me.
(VIOLA exits.)
HARVEY: I know what she’s going to say.
PHILIBERT: And what’s that?
HARVEY: She’ll refuse.
PHILIBERT: That would not be good.
(KINSLEY enters.)
BARTHOLOMEW: Holy moly — here comes Kinsley!
KINSLEY: You called sir? What is your will for me?
PHILIBERT: Where is Bobi and Wanda?
KINSLEY: They are still in the bathroom, fixing their make-up.
PHILIBERT: Go get them and bring them over here. If they argue, rough them up for me, to get them out where they belong.
(KINSLEY exits.)
LUTHER: I don’t believe it. It’s a miracle.
HARVEY: I wonder what it means.
PHILIBERT: It means safety and sanity and professionalism — and a workable play session. In short, everything a life of fetish should be.
BARTHOLOMEW: Congratulations, Philibert. You won the bet. And I’ll add a week’s worth of free gas at the oxygen bar, and one month’s free rent in any of the club’s playrooms. You deserve it, good friend. Kinsley’s like a whole new escort.
PHILIBERT: Oh, but I’m not done here.
(KINSLEY enters with BOBI and WANDA.)
PHILIBERT: That’s my girl. Kinsley, that leather corset you’re wearing, take it off. And your panties, too. Strip for us. But leave on the thigh-high boots.
(She strips naked except for the boots.)
WANDA: This is embarrassing. I’d never let anyone treat me like that.
BOBI: This is a shameful roleplay. We’re not even supposed to be in a play session now.
LUTHER: I wish we were in a play session. Your behavior has cost me two-hundred bucks.
BOBI: You’re a moron for betting on me in the first place.
PHILIBERT: Kinsley, I want you to tell these stubborn women what kind of obedience they owe their clients and play partners — especially their mock BDSM husbands.
WANDA: She’ll do no such thing.
PHILIBERT: Go ahead, darling. And start with her.
WANDA: She won’t.
PHILIBERT: Yes, she will. And start with her.
KINSLEY: Shame on you, ladies! Don’t give your men attitudes and hard looks, clients who pay you good money to roleplay — whether to submit to them as BDSM slaves, or to dominate them as mistresses. Such attitudes are not becoming, and stifle your beauty like frost on a meadow of flowers. An angry escort is like a bottle of sour wine — tart, brown, tasting of vinegar — and while it’s in this condition no one, not even a homeless alcoholic on the streets of San Francisco, will drink from such a bottle. Your client is your lifeline to the lifestyle, your sugar daddy, your keeper, your bearer of gifts, giver of fine jewelry, of trips to the Bahamas, the one who pays your bills. To keep you in business he sometimes hides from his own wife — pretends to be out of town on a business trip — and neglects his own children. But he never forgets you, not his mistress, his BDSM slave, his escort. He may travel through a blizzard to see you, a monsoon, a California earthquake. And exchange, all he asks for is your loyalty and obedience, and perhaps to occasionally have his cock smashed with a ball-peen hammer — too little payment for so great a debt. An escort owes her client the same obedience that a groupie owes the lead singer of a famous rock band, minus the blowjobs backstage, unless that’s part of the roleplay. And when she is stubborn, peevish, sullen, or sour, and not obedient to the previously agreed upon stipulations of the play session, than what is she but an irksome malcontent? I’m ashamed that escorts are so clueless and self-absorbed that they would declare war when they should kneel for peace. Come on you skanked-out chicken-heads! You grimy headstrong hussies! I used to be so willful, so arrogant. And for what? Our submission, our dominance, is but a roleplay on the great stage of fetish life. So swallow your pride, and whatever else is agreed upon in the play session. You are escorts, after all. Place your hands beneath your sugar daddy’s boot as a gesture of loyalty and obedience. My hand is always ready to please my client, wherever I may need to put it.
PHILIBERT: Well said, my darling Kinsley! Come and give me a kiss.
BARTHOLOMEW: This is something I don’t want to miss.
LUTHER: Amazing, Philibert. You’ve succeeded at last.
HARVEY: He’s done what no one could do in the past.
BARTHOLOMEW: Go hit the playroom, you deserve a free session.
HARVEY: Philibert’s tamed a San Francisco dominatrix, and taught us all a lesson.
(They all exit.)
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