The Taming of the SF Dominatrix

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.)