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a play script part 2 (1 Viewer)


Senior Member
Scene 2

The stage is in darkness as the lights come up there is a dominatrix center stage she turns back to the audience picks um a pair of glasses and a hair bobble from the floor she puts on glasses and puts he hair into a neat bun.

A long pause

Prostitute/secretary: Your affairs are in order sir. (Sexily). Though there seems to be some discrepancies in the… Interrupts herself Visibly move as if to make an aside Suddenly I begin thinking of the irony of my position. By day I work for a man who requires me to do the duties of a secretary and longs for my body. And by the night…

Prostitute and torturers voice from off stage: …I swap money for pleasure. Of course I didn’t understand what it was doing to me then, how I was selling my capacity for love. In my decadence I thought only of my shallow short term gains. My pleasure and the money I used to felicitate my lifestyle.

The prostitute continues alone

Prostitute: My lifestyle consisting of sex, gambling, liquor. It was then when I met him, the one who brings changes, he refused to pay for my services, and he courted me, feigned love. I responded with lust. Eventually he paid with a major credit card for ‘the pleasure of my company.’ I was penetrated – but not in the way I expected. He showed me his crucifix and infected me with faith. He begged me to go to his priest. A screen is erected around the prostitute and the priest comes onstage. Forgive me father for I have sinned

Priest: Tell me your sins.

Prostitute: I have been a whore of the worst kind.

Priest: Dirty bitch.

Prostitute: I have taken substances.

Priest: Crack whore.

Prostitute: Help me repent. pleading

Priest: You want to hail Mary and praise our father, but it’s not enough.

Prostitute: Please.

Priest: You have to cut out the lust. the priest takes a knife and passes it over the screen Cut it out. (And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee whispered over the top)
a long pause

Prostitute: I don’t understand father.

Priest: Cut out the lust.

The torturer and the prisoner come back on

Prostitute & torturer: I trusted in the power of the lord to forgive so I took the knife he gave me and I mutilated my self. I wasn’t sure of the method so I just cut myself over and over until the confession box was flowing with blood. Not an inch of my body remained uncut. I nearly died that night, but the good father called an ambulance. The police assumed it was an attempted

The torturer continues alone: suicide. I was kept for observation and after being declared sane I went back to work, my boss. the man who wanted me the boss comes on he is wearing a suit. By this time the prostitute has donned a white shirt and a respectable grey skirt took me. He locked the door to his office. He produced a pair of handcuffs. He shackled me to the office furniture and began to run his tongue over my face the Prostitute and her Boss leave the stage in a markedly businesslike tone Which is interesting, because that is similar to what is about to happen to you. A medium pause But my tongue is sharp and steel. This is the point in our relationship where I allow you your first choice. Either you cut your own face with this knife the knife passes from her right hand to her left or let me do it she hopes she can do it. If you do it yourself and I’m not satisfied, you will be punished.

Prisoner: My face?

Torturer: Your beautiful face, for me. (almost pleading)

Prisoner: I can’t cut my own face.

Torturer: It is a hard thing to do to yourself, isn’t it? To draw red, crimson from your veins and let it spill onto the floor. The Torturer gets uncomfortably close to the prisoner and whispers You were brave. the torturer exits the stage and the prisoner is left alone
From off stage All the scandal and the vice. I love it. To the tune of New York New York the torturer returns with a tray of biscuits
Do you want some biscuits sir? I have been ever so rude all this time, and I fail to feed you. What sort of an establishment doesn’t feed its inmates?

Prisoner: My arms are tied.

Torturer: Choose and I will feed you. With my own fair hand. Choose the biscuit.

Prisoner: chooses a biscuit

The torturer feeds the biscuit to the prisoner

Torturer: What do we say?

Prisoner: Thank you.

The torturer slaps the prisoner

Torturer: You have nothing to thank me for. Shouting

Prisoner: What did you want me to say?

Torturer: Why do you feel the need to thank me? I have done wrong. I have hurt you. I have cut you. That’s not healthy. It doesn’t help. I don’t think I can help you. quietly I’m sorry.

Prisoner: What are you going to do?

Torturer: I don’t know. A pause shouts Shut up. I don’t know

Prisoner: cautiously Why don’t you let me go?

Torturer: Let you go? Out into that cold harsh world, where men hunt and women run and eventually both end up cold hollow and dead. They cling together for… institutionalized warmth and tax benefits. The hunt ends. A long pause I married him, you know.

Prisoner: Who?

Torturer: My boss, The man who raped me. I spent years dead in his company. She claps her hands a, wry chuckle I even thought I loved him. His lust for me eventually dulled and turned to love. One day I saw my two children playing. I noticed myself smiling but it was hollow. I’m caught, I thought. From that day I knew. I didn’t love him, not at all. Pause I didn’t leave straight away pause I hurt him first. pause I didn’t dare hurt his body. Short pause So I broke his heart.

Prisoner: You betrayed him, went back to …

Torturer: Being a woman of negotiable hospitality.

Prisoner: You can let me go. You don't have to keep me until I marry you and in time betray you. It happened to you, you know the cycle. Don’t you want it to end? You were treated badly, hurt, but you don’t have to perpetuate it. You can hurt me, I know you can. You already have, indicates his wounds but that doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t care. Eventually I’ll stop feeling it, if I survive. Though I assume you have done this before, I don’t think I’m your first. he stands and it is as though shadows flee from him his bonds do not impede him (note he doesn’t actually break free this is a freeing of his spirit) How many like yourself have you created? You’re like a vampire drinking from each victim. The weak ones die and the strong ones survive and continue. You leave more killers in your wake, they die out but you survive again and again, never being killed or caught. You will let me go it's not a request it is spoken as a statement of what will be and you can help others break the cycle.

He sits down
Torturer slaps prisoner hard

Torturer: You presumptuous little man. another slap You think you're the first don't you? The first to preach at me. She kisses him fiercely They all try the preaching at some point. A wry smile. You were better than most, no denouncing me as evil or mention of the G-O-D word and no yelling at me to repent.

A pause
The torturer is pottering about doing small tasks
More pause
Prisoner: Let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone. pleading

Torturer: sarcastically Not a single soul. You are getting predictable my dear and for you that is dangerous. You know how cats play with mice until they get bored …

Prisoner: Please icily calm

Torturer: completely ignoring the prisoner in this situation I am the cat and you are the mouse. You live until my hunger overpowers my sense of flashes the knife fun

Prisoner: No

Torturer: a slap s/he is very close to the prisoner What?

Prisoner: I won't entertain you still calm

Torturer: Textbook. You will amuse me, if I am amused, till I fall, fall asleep, then you can make your escape. And thus the subject is given a glimmer of hope. Is it false? Presses with the knife menaceing Is it? The prisoner doesn’t speak or move. With sudden violence. Is it?

Prisoner: You've been dead since the police saved your body haven’t you? You contemptible husk of a human being. Torturer slaps prisoner Bitch, Slut.

Torturer: pulling the knife and pressing it into the prisoners neck teacher-like I don’t like your tone. She fiercely kisses the prisoner

Prisoner: I don't care anymore, kill me.

Torturer: I would never kill you, I love you. A simple state of fact

Prisoner: If you love me let me go.

Torturer: That bloody cliché. It comes up every time. A long pause I don’t even know why I do it anymore, I can imagine the end, from the start. I know that you will end in death. You can’t leave me even as I can’t leave you.

Prisoner: Then you live with me as I hate you. My hate boring through your soul, I hope it infects you. My scorn will burn through you. And my silent. Contempt, willing you to crumble. Eventually when we are both empty husks I will have the joy of knowing what I did to you. And our mutual destruction will be worth more to me than if I were to escape and kill you now.

Torturer: What stops me from killing you now? 1.5 on the nervous-o-miter

Prisoner: sneering I’m being too entertaining.

Time passes
The sound of a thunderstorm the Torturer is apparently terrified

Torturer: Oh god.

Prisoner: comforting her in his arms No, it’s only God punishing the most evil of us. His voice turns nasty. Will you escape this time do you think? The torturer is terrified You know what you are, don’t you? You’re a sinner. Plump for punishment.

Torturer: I repent. Sounding genuine and terrified

Prisoner: Too late. A pause Too little. a pause You deserve hell. utter contempt not exclaimed

Torturer: I deserve hell! Wailing

Prisoner: You just say that, I don’t feel your belief. A long pause You’re hungry. Get yourself a biscuit.

Torturer: I’m hungry. I want a biscuit. A pause, the torturer gets the tray of biscuits chooses one then takes a bite.

Prisoner: You poisoned one. Do you remember which?

Torturer: No, God, no I can’t remember which. Oh god, I feel the poison. It burns in my blood.

Prisoner: with calm certainty You deserve to die, you know. You should take the poison raw and total when you know its coming. Subtle mocking Maybe if you end your life before you get worse, the devil will show you some mercy.

Torturer: The devil has no mercy. I get to burn

Prisoner: Forever. Firmly yet almost regretfully

The bottle of poison is lit by a stage light

Torturer: Do I have to do it? I don’t want to. childish

Prisoner: Take it on a biscuit. A spoon full of sugar. I’ll follow you, I promise. I can’t live without you.

The torturer takes the poison and puts a drop onto her biscuit she eats it and as she does so a screen is lowered images flash on it of torture.

Prisoner: unseen I will be with you soon, my love.


Senior Member
sorry, but i don't help with any work that has violent content... i can tell you, however, that you need to study proper play script format...

paul argentini's excellent screenplay reference ['elements of style for screenwriters'] has a good section for theater scripts in the back...

love and hugs, maia