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A Jest Too Far…
by
MapleJack
His one eye opens slowly, his other
eye only opens a bit from the bruise just starting to show. His
cheek is badly swollen. Carefully he raises his hand to his face and
can feel the large bump that throbs as he touches it. He tries to
focus on the ceiling above him. The stark, dirty wood rafters slowly
come into focus. His other senses tell him more than he needs to
know. It is the smell of sweat, blood, urine, and a hint of cleaners
that fill his nostrils. He groans. "Not unexpected," he
thinks to himself. His body is on the hard packed earth floor; his
arm is just touching the leg of the bunk beside him. After a
moment he moves as he attempts to discover if any of his limbs are
broken or twisted.
Taking a deep breath he stands up and
gets a good look around. It’s just a touch worse than he
thought. He's standing in a cell of the castle dungeon; just not his
usual cell. The door here is just black steel bars not the wooden
door that he normally would see. He’s been thrown here with the
common prisoners and not members of the court. He’s in trouble and
he knows it. The spaces between the bars in the door are only source
of light from the outside room.
Jester can just make out the torches
set in the sconces as they flicker from the cool breeze that wafts
from the stairway. Scanning the room, Jester looks at the scratched,
rough-hewn granite and mortar walls. He feels a shiver when he looks
closer at the bunk he awoke beside. He clearly sees scratch marks on
the bed where a prisoner’s hands must have been pried from it. The
bloodstains appear fresh on the threadbare mattress. The rest of the
cell is like the one he’s used to; a hole in the floor for waste, a
small basin with water in it, and a broken piece of mirror.
Taking a few steps to get to the
mirror, he looks at his face. The left side is badly swollen and
black and blue from the punch he received. All he can think to
himself is, "Who would have thought a queen that large could
move that fast?” His white face paint has been smeared and rubbed
off in some areas. The purple diamonds painted onto his face that
surround his eyes appear crooked from the way his one eye has begun
to close shut. The only thing he has left is his perpetual
smile and it, too, looks a tad strange from the swelling.
He runs his fingers over the old scars
that give him his grin. These had been given to him before he
can remember. He keeps his brown hair short for a reason. He
looks away from the mirror to see how the rest of his body has fared,
looking at his well-toned yet little body that is somewhat below
average height. Taking a deep breath he feels mild bruising, and some
discomfort. He looks at his bright purple, and orange colored tunic;
it has some rips, and tears, as does his colored leggings.
His green boots appear to still be in good condition, just a couple
of scuffs, and missing a bell or two. On the bunk is his tri-colored
hat undamaged, tossed in with him as an afterthought.
Now he sits on the bunk and takes his
hat in his hand, and lets out a deep sigh. The little Jester begins
to talk to his hat.
"Well, all things considered it
could be worse. I just did as my queen asked. Poke a bit of fun at
her sister in-law." He stands up, and paces his cell while still
talking to his hat lying on the bunk.
"I had the house in stitches
didn’t I? Just not the visiting queen; once her little runt of a
fool clued her in to my poem. My cousin… he’s always such a
snitch." He sits back down, and finishes his thought. "At
least I should be out of here in the morning after she has left.
Though I wonder, this being in a common cell not a secluded one for
the members of court, if this might have been one jest too far?"
His hat gives him no answers, not that
he was expecting one. A shiver runs up his spine as he hears
heavy footsteps coming from down the corridor.
A large silhouette blocks out most of
the light as the Jester looks up from his hat. He realizes this time
he may have more to worry about than what he said. Standing on the
other side of the bars is a physique Jester would know anywhere. A
large muscular frame fills the doorway, as does the outfit of dark
red leather and red face mask that covers half of the big man’s
face. The small Jester can see the matching pants, boots, and his
gloves with spikes on the knuckles. His bare chest is just starting
to show a lack of physical exertion the job used to give him.
Looking down at the Jester the Dungeon
Master cannot believe his eyes. The court fool in a common cell?
Injured before being thrown into it? He isn’t certain what to say
as he looks at Jester, whose face is a mix of shock, fear, and
uncertainty. Both men lock an eye; a connection is made that tells
them both this is new ground, and the resolution is not going to be
good.
Dungeon Master thinks over the past
year, how he's had to escort Jester to a private cell in a separate
block until things blow over. During that time they came to develop a
decent friendship – as far as their roles allowed. At times, when
Jes, as he refers to him, went out into the city beyond the castle
walls without his costume, the below average-sized man would put
aside the colors and face paint and join him for a drink, and even
fight alongside him when the need should arise.
Jester takes a shaky breath looks at
his friend, and asks. “I’m in deep trouble, aren’t I?”
Dungeon Master tries to think of a
response, and to ask several questions of Jester. Before the big man
can respond, the air is pierced by an outraged, high-pitched shriek.
"There they are! We've been
waiting for the guards to bring you to us!” the voice screams.
Both Jester and Dungeon Master know
that voice that gives way to the crisp sound of heels clicking on the
stone floor, followed by the sounds of metal on metal on metal, and
leather creaking. The torches flicker from the passing of the bodies.
Dungeon Master turns around, wearing a
cold, blank expression on his face to greet his important guests.
Standing before him is his Queen and former mistress Lady Jade, and
her sister-in-law Queen Garnet whom he serves. Dungeon Master thinks
of her as a “stuffed porcelain doll” in a royal gown of spun red
silk. Several guards accompany the two. Dungeon Master bows lowly to
his queen. It is then that he notices another member of the party—a
hunched over, scrawny little whippet of a man wearing a red, and blue
jester costume giving him the appearance of a brightly colored rat.
It is Jester’s cousin.
After Queen Garnet gestures to him to
rise he looks only at her and asks: “My Queen, what crime has our
Jester committed? What punishment does her majesty feel he deserves
for said crimes?"
Queen Garnet sighs as she glances over
at her sister-in-law who is now turning redder for being ignored by
Dungeon Master. She looks at him imploring him with her eyes,
carefully she balances her words well or it could go terribly ill for
all involved.
"It seems my esteemed Sister-in-
law took our entertainment as offensive.” she says, pointing to the
large angry woman. “It is our opinion that Jester needs to learn
his place. That is his crime."
"It was mocking me in a brutal way
while you all laughed," the woman says in controlled anger as
she picks up her little fool like a pet. "If it wasn't for my
little fool here. I would have been oblivious to the shame your
entertainment was putting me through."
“He implied that my honor could be
called into question, and he
likened my voice to that of a crow and
common ass... but couched it in sweet words so as to not be
immediately apparent…”
“I found the poem amusing until my
little fool uncovered the meaning behind Its foolery, and that it was
I who was truly the object of ridicule.” She glared at her
sister-in-law. “My good cousin coddles her fool”.
Queen Jade sees a look of disbelief on
Dungeon Master’s face.
Carefully, Queen Garnet turns to her
sister-in-law.
“Dear Sister…” Garnet implores.
“NO!” Jade screams. “NO! Not
this time. No! This time I demand of you satisfaction, and if I
have it not, I can promise you, my brother and your king, lord, and
husband will never hear the end of this!”
Dungeon Master looks at the Rat in his
costume with a cool disdain. He feels Jesters anger from behind him.
He speaks up to his royal guest. "I understand. What do you
have in mind as punishment?" He asks her, his voice showing no
emotion; his mask hiding his contempt for her pet. He doesn’t look
at Queen Garnet so that she doesn’t have to answer.
"We want It Stripped of Its
clothing as It stripped me of my dignity. We want It battered and
bloody so It remembers Its place in front of his betters! We further
demand that It apologize in the grand dining hall in the morning if
It lives; We assume you can keep It alive long enough to meet my
demands?" The large Queen Jade yells at Dungeon Master. She
lifts her finger, and strokes the side of his face, in a familiar,
and almost tender way. Her tone changes to calm, and cold. “You and
I have an understanding, don’t we Dungeon Master?”
Dungeon Master’s lips part as if to
say something but then they close, and he nods his head. His eyes
catch a single tear escape Queen Garnets eye as it runs down her
flawless skin; she too nods her head in agreement to the punishment.
With this he nods his head, and bows to his queen again.
"It will be done majesty. He will
live the night, although he may wish otherwise when I'm done,"
he says as he rises before them.
Jester gulps as he listens and watches
the drama unfold before him. Jester states coldly to the Rat, "I
hope to repay your kindness for this soon, dear cousin."
Rat looks back and smiles. as he says
sarcastically, "If you can. I look forward to it. I already know
no matter what befalls you, you will keep smiling through it all."
He mockingly bows to Jester then scurries quickly away to his queen
while giving Dungeon Master a wide berth.
After the royals leave Dungeon Master
looks over at Jester shakes his head, and walks away from the cell
saying. "I have to get things set up... it'll take a bit. I
suggest you get undressed so I won't ruin what's left of your
costume."
Jester is standing in shock, not to
mention fear; he lets out a small laugh. “What did Queen Jade mean
when she said you and she have a special understanding?”
Dungeon Master doesn’t look at his
friend as he disappears around a corner. “It means this time you
went too far. This is one jest too far.”
Jester finds himself thinking that his
Queen Garnet did all she could to save him from death. Yet he wonders
if this could be worse. He undresses quickly so he's barefoot, and
naked. Not the first time in his life. Jester has plenty to fear of
the torture to come even though none shows on his face.
Bravely. he says to himself, "It’s
a small price to pay for my Queen’s honor to be upheld," as he
folds his clothes and puts them on the bunk with his hat on top.
His one friend in the castle is about to take pieces of his hide from
his body, and all he can think is that he'd better buy him a number
of rounds the next time they hit the tavern.
When Dungeon Master returns he has no
expression on his face. He opens the cell door to let out the
prisoner. "I’ve got to keep this on the level of just another
job, or we are all in trouble," he mutters.
Grabbing Jester's wrist, Dungeon Master
puts the arm and leg manacles on him just as he would any other
prisoner. Now that the prisoner was not going anywhere Dungeon
Master looks over his prisoner; not a bad frame, good muscles. What
most would call a cub, a bit of fur showing. Dungeon Master is not
surprised that the prisoner has a decent-sized piece of manhood.
Even though Jester had seen the
punishment chamber occasionally on his trips through the dungeon, he
is still not ready for it. His previous punishments generally
consisted of a ten lashes with the small whip for minor
transgressions, but that changed once King Korven married Garnet.
Since then his sister Jade has become more and more of a vicious
bitch, and now she demands greater punishments. Now Jester enters
the Punishment Chamber used for the worst offenses. He looks at the
various whips chains, and other devices meant to make even the
bravest man weep like a small child; knowing about half of them will
be used on him over the course of hours.
Dungeon Master unlocks the restraints
on Jester just long enough to re-position them so his hands are in
front of him; he then lifts Jester up by his arms so the links in the
manacles are suspending him by his wrists. He then quickly hooks the
foot manacles to a hook in the floor causing Jester to stretch his
small body as far as it can. Jester lets out an involuntary gasp,
and yelps, “Ohhhh!”
Dungeon Master briefly bites his lip
confident that his prisoner is secure and not going anywhere. He
looks his friend over with a mix of concern, and resignation, and
looks Jester in the eyes and says. "This going to hurt a hell of
a lot, Jes. So get ready.”
Jester gasps, “Give me a numbing
draught! Please!” he pleads.
“I can't give you anything for the
pain, those are the orders; but I can promise after it’s done your
wounds won’t fester… One last thing, you are to be gagged, not to
keep the screams in, but make sure you don't bite your tongue clean
off; you have an apology to deliver."
Jester nods and he shakes from the
cold, and from fear; more from the latter, he thinks grimly. Once the
bit gag is in place, and before Jester has a time to react, Jester
hears a swish of leather. He screams, and bites down onto the gag as
his shoulders and back are pierced by little shards of bone embedded
in the leather which is slowly dragged across his back. He gasps,
and tries to twist away from the pain. Another lash of the cat o’nine
tails rakes across his body, and this time blood spatters from the
open wounds faster and farther then Dungeon Master anticipated. He's
seen it before, and he adjusts accordingly. As he releases another
lash more spatter hits his face. Without thinking he reflexively
licks the blood from his lips; the metallic taste, mixed with
adrenaline fuels Dungeon Master on to strike harder. A part of him
screams to hold back, this is a friend who did nothing to warrant
this type of punishment; still, it's Dungeon Masters’ job, and he
is oath-bound to do it to the fullest of his ability.
By the time all is said and done,
Dungeon Master has worked up a good sweat, and Jester has received
twelve lashes across his entire body. Gasping, and semi-conscious,
Jesters body gets doused in cold salt water to rinse off the blood,
and to help prevent infection. Jester is panting, and sobbing, and
hoping his torment is over. Yet he knows it's just begun.
Dungeon Master lowers Jester down from
the ceiling. Jester slumps in Dungeon Master’s arms as he feels
himself moved to a simple, roughhewn rack. Dungeon Master stretches
out Jesters body to give him some semblance of rest. Jester’s hopes
are dashed as Dungeon Master fastens him to the rack, and performs
several turns of the wheel. He hears the unmistakable sounds of
Jester’s joints popping over his muffled screams.
Looking at the stretched body barely
moving on the rack Dungeon Master walks over to a water bucket, and
grabs the metal cup stored above it. Taking the full cup over to the
prisoner, Dungeon Master unties his arms, removes the bit gag, and
forces Jester into a sitting position. He then forces him to drink
the water whether he wants to or not. Dungeon master notices that
his prisoner’s manhood has sprung to life on its own. He's seen
this happen to others under his treatment; the body turns the pain
into pleasure, and it’s another tool he can use to torment his
prisoner. Dungeon Master has to keep his friendship separate, or he
won't be able to accomplish all that he is required to.
As he forces himself to take in the
liquid that is being offered, Jester feels his senses on overdrive;
the water, while not cold, feels like ice going down his throat.
Mixed in the water is the coppery taste of his own blood. He feels
the soft leather of Dungeon masters glove on his back sliding over
the tracks of blood still coming from his body. His nostrils flare,
and he is assailed by the metallic scent of blood, and the musky
scent of both himself, and The Dungeon Master. Inside Jester’s
partially fogging mind is the thought, "This is my best friend.
He’s trying to destroy my body and mind. That he's succeeding is
proof to how well he does his job."
The worst part is that he knows it’s
not over yet. What has Jester more terrified than what is coming next
is what becomes of the friendship they both have had? It is at this
moment that Jester realizes that Dungeon Master is the only subject
that he considers a friend. Someone he’s gone to town with, the
one person he feels some closeness to in the whole kingdom. He
recalls a closeness that he had with Rat, his cousin, but that ended
too with the marriage of the Korven to Garnet. She is a kind and
loving Queen, but it has brought out a jealous, and evil streak in
Jade. These past two years have been dark ones for the court Jester.
A guard quietly walks down the steps
not happy at all with the orders he's about to give. His leather
armor barley makes a sound as he rounds the corner. He knows the
Dungeon Master could not have seen or heard him entering the chamber.
Yet without looking the Dungeon Master says, “What new orders have
come down from the Queen in regards to the prisoner?"
The guard gulps and firmly reads from
the scroll in his hand, "It has been decided you shall be given
more time to apply your skills to the prisoner. He is now expected
to be the main display at the evening meal."
The Guard shifts his weight waiting for
the Dungeon Master to turn, and face him. He sees the already pale
face of the Jester become even whiter. Dungeon Master doesn't turn
around at all, just stands up and listens as the guard continues.
"It seems your relationship with
the prisoner has been told to the King’s sister, and she relishes
the idea of the emotional pain this is causing the prisoner. Of
course it goes without saying, if you fail to keep him alive you will
be punished with a slow death as well." He rolls up the scroll
and as turns to leave he says over his shoulder, "Sorry."
Dungeon Master lets out a deep sigh as
he turns away from Jester, letting him collapse back on the rack. He
walks over to the wall balls up his hand, and hits the wall causing
chips of stone to fly. He thinks to himself, "That pompous
bitch! She now plays with a man’s life like he's nothing. If he
did something to deserve this, it would be no problem; but this could
be a waste of a life." Dungeon Master regains his composure and
gets back to work.
Releasing Jester off the rack takes a
couple of seconds, getting him to stand takes a bit longer. Dungeon
Master leads Jester to a gibbet; a metal cage shaped to encase a
person, stands him in it, and locks the cage. Then goes to a wall
covered in tools of the trade. He takes out two pear shaped objects.
Dungeon Master puts a bit of lard on the larger of the two, looks
over at his prisoner with a blank face. By grabbing onto Jester’s
throat he proceeds to force open Jesters mouth and puts the smaller
pear in. He turns the leaf-like handle and sees Jesters jaw reach its
limits. His eyes bulging out, the mouth gaping, he knows this is as
far as it will stretch without the jaw breaking.
He next uses the winch beside the cage
to raise it until Jester’s hips are at shoulder height. Turning
the cage Dungeon master inserts the greased pear into Jesters ass
which causes a high pitched noise to come from Jesters full mouth. He
then turns the handle on this pear four turns which Dungeon master
knows will not tear anything but will hurt like hell. He fantasizes
on the day he can go all the way with this evil device on a man but
today is not that day.
After Jester spends a half hour in the
cage; where he is forced to stand while Dungeon Master breaks several
of his fingers and toes with a small ballpein hammer, Dungeon Master
releases him. He does not remove the pears however.
Taking the prisoner to his latest
creation, Dungeon Master leads Jester to a metal box that is a tight
squeeze for an average man but for Jester there should be a bit of
room. Once the prisoner is locked inside, Dungeon Master places an
hour glass on top of the box. He then goes to one of the braziers
that light the dungeon, and with tongs removes several red hot coals
from it; he does this with all of them in the room, then places the
coals on and under the metal box until it glows slightly. He opens a
slit on the top of the box and places a candle in a small opening
surrounded by mirrors. The bright light nearly blinds the small
Jester. Then Dungeon Master starts the hand crank that turns the
hammers which bang all over the box.
Inside the box just as Jester closes
his eyes to try to adjust to the blinding light, he begins to feel
the heat rising around him. As if this isn’t bad enough, he
realizes that the box itself is covered in small piercing spikes.
While the heat gets more intense, and no matter how he moves he is
being cut, and poked, not to mention deafened by the constant banging
that seems to echo in the small box.
A sharp poke opens up his eyes and he
is blinded by the flashing light. A twist of his head, and the mouth
pear brings pain, a movement of his ass, and the rectal pear does the
same.
Jester can't tell if its blood or tears
streaming down his face when or if the laughter and screams have
merged by the time he's released from the metal box. His voice is
gone, his face a glazed over, maddened mask. He can’t stand on his
two feet now; he slumps onto the cold stone floor, a shaking mass of
bruised and cut flesh. Dungeon master looks at what's left of his
prisoner, knowing he's not done yet. He once again douses Jester with
salt water, the shock of the cold water against his hot, torn flesh
another agony.
There’s one last bit to break what's
left of the poor man’s mind. Can he bring himself to do it is the
only question? Dungeon Master has no choice, it was ordered. He
forces his prisoner to drink more water. This time with vinegar and
salt in it to bring his temperature down, and give him strength; if
his prisoner expired from heat and lack of water, his own life would
be forfeit. He then locks Jester in a simple pine casket lying in a
corner of the room.
In his dazed state Jester is able to
keep calm even though he is locked in a casket. The dark and quiet
are even more disturbing after the light and noise. As his body
shakes from the cold water he loses track of time in the dark casket.
It could be minutes or it could be hours. All he knows is its dark,
quiet, and not a lot of room or air. He's trying to stay calm so as
to not die. To Jester this is worse than any physical abuse. He's
alone with no way to move.
Jester thinks to himself with the
little focus he has left after everything that's been done to him.
He's not sure he can take it anymore. Not the punishment. That's just
pain; and wounds that will heal, hopefully. No, what he's not sure
he can handle is the knowing that this person who is doing this to
him is one of his only friends and if he can do this without showing
regret or remorse. What exactly did their friendship mean in the
first place? What of the oath I took to serve his Queen at the
request of his King? Had he not amused her? How could his friend
and his Queen allow this to happen to him? Would he now die without
ever having a love of his own? His mouth gaping open, and tears
streaming from his eyes All Jester seems able to do is repeat "I'm
sorry," over and over again.
In the darkness he feels himself being
lifted up. He thinks to himself, “I am dying…my soul is leaving
the earthly body, the pain is subsiding.”
Dungeon master hears a voice calling
“Make way for the Queen. Make way for the Queen.”
A bright light flashes into Jesters
eyes. The casket is opened by Dungeon Master. Queen Jade looks in,
and sees the broken Jester inside.
Beside her a pained Rat, and Dungeon
Master look in on pitiful Jester.
Jade sneers, “Has It learned Its
lesson?”
Dungeon Master slowly removes the mouth
pear. He knows Jester probably can’t answer but at least he should
be able to nod his head.
Jester looks at Jade, and begins to
cackle a high-pitched broken laugh, his eyes wild, staring through
her, not at her.
Her face gets a very evil grin. “It laughs," she almost purrs. “Good work Dungeon Master, you have
broken it. It is completely insane, but still alive and can grovel
at the feast." She gathers her skirts. "Come, fool!” The queen then exits the torture
chamber, the Rat skulking after his owner.
The guard turns to the Dungeon Master
after the queen leaves and says, “I’m sorry about your friend,”
as the maniacal laughter continues from Jester.
The Dungeon Master raises his head. "Not as sorry as She'll be." He looks at the guard with a glint in his eyes.
"After Jester's performance, take him to my quarters. Tell no one."
The
Guard nods and walks away. Dungeon Master looks at his friend.
"I
broke you." He pauses and gently touches his friend's bloody body. "I can rebuild you."
The End
(This is a piece of fantasy/bdsm I
wrote a while ago with the intention of doing more with it, but it
just kind of went other places. Hope you enjoy. Any comments can be
sent to spazje00@yahoo.com. I'd also like to thank UrsusMjr and Papa
Werebear for editing and the chance to share this.)
