Merchant of Venice - A Pounding of Flesh - RPLOG
Participants
Date
8/3/2015
Log
Oh woe! Tragedy has struck. There was an ambitious crew of actors putting up a rendition of the Merchant of Venice, but it seems as though the actors have run into a problem. The Mall Rat playing Shylock has gotten upset with all the hoarder and Jew jokes behind the scenes...and has refused to act out the climax of the play after it's drawn such an audience...
As producer, Mickey had spent most the show in the technical box making sure things ran smoothly. The 'Lube between the action' she had said in a pep-talk beforehand. So when one of the stagehands informs her of the case of 'drama queen' happening behind the scenes she's quick to skitter backstage to try and fix things. She had about ten minutes or so before the courtroom scene started, so after she wastes five just trying to pick her way into the rat's dressing room that he had barricaded himself in she started squeaking orders to the other rats. The spare costume is hauled out, she dons the correct shape (with way more swag), and when the lights fade in for the scene the rat is ready in the wings for 'his' cue. Rat looks calm and collected, but inwardly he's going 'fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck'.
The stage is set. And the audience is called back after the intermission. The crew run over their lines to refresh their memories... and then the curtain opens to show a grand court of sorts. A latex fox duke on his throne. Antonio, the horse, bound with his arms behind his back. Sweat glistening on his chest in a good display of nervousness and tension. The other characters apart from you are on the sidelines for now for you are the star of this scene!
Make room, and let him stand before our face.
Make room, and let him stand before our face. Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, that thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice. To the last hour of act
Make room, and let him stand before our face. Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, that thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice. To the last hour of act
Make room, and let him stand before our face. Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, that thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice. To the last hour of act, and then 'tis thought thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange than is thy strange apparent cruelty, and where thou now exact'st the penalty, which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh, thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, but, touch'd with human gentleness and love, forgive a moiety of the principal, glancing an eye of pity on his losses that have of late so huddled on his back enough to press a royal merchant down, and pluck commiseration of his state, from brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, from stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd to offices of tender courtesy. (A long pause)
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
The fox looks expectantly at you.
Shylock has no fear in his eyes behind the stage as he sweeps out on the stage, chains and jewelery glinting in the lights. He regards the bound Antonio with a cruel sneer and gold-toothed smirk, then drops it when the judge speaks. He seems unswayed by the words and, halfway before the judge finishes, he crosses his arms across his chest and into the sleeves of his robe, and on the word 'jew' he turns up his nose. When he speaks, it is with the confidence of someone who knows he has the letter of the law on his side, almost lecturing the Judge and surrounding court.
"I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; and by our holy Sabbath have I sworn to have the due and forfeit of my bond. If you deny it, let the danger light upon your charter and your city's freedom. you'll ask me, why I rather choose to have a weight of carrion flesh than to receive three thousand ducats. I'll not answer that. But, say, it is my humour; is it answer'd? What if my house be troubled with a rat and I be pleased to give ten thousand ducatsto have it baned? What, are you answer'd yet? some men there are love not a gaping pig; some, that are mad if they behold a cat; and others, when the bagpipe sings i' the nose,
"Now, for your answer: as there is no firm reason to be render'd, Why he cannot abide a gaping pig; Why he, a harmless necessary cat; Why he, a woollen bagpipe; but of force must yield to such inevitable shameAs to offend, himself being offended; so can I give no reason, nor I will not, More than a lodged hate and a certain loathing I bear Antonio, that I follow thus a losing suit against him. Are you answer'd now?"
Bassanio makes his way into the stage. An equine too, for symbolism of course. Us against them. Dressed in finery, he stares daggers partially towards you. Partially towards the crowd. "This is no answer thy unfeeling man to excuse the current of thy cruelty."
Shylock looks to Bassanio, and the rat waves a ring'd hand dismissively towards him. "I am not bound to please thee with my answers," he chirrs smoothly, turning his back on him to look out on the invisible 4th wall with a clatter of his tail against the stagefloor.
Bassanio frowned deeply. Sweat making his smooth fur glisten slightly as well. The equine approaching and leaning in threateningly...pulling away only with reluctance as he remembered that he was in court and wished to draw no more trouble.
"Doing good." He whispered encouragingly before he covered it by making an appeal to the audience, hands spread. "Do all men /kill/ the things they do not love??"
Shylock turns his head just enough to see the equine out of the corner of his sight. The audiance would see the rat grin once more, as if aiming to further tilt the scales of 'justice' in his favor by drawing up a raise.
There's the tiniest nod from the rat at the whisper, then he turns back to sppeal to his own side of the audiance. "Hates any man the thing he would not kill?"
"Every offence is not a hate at first." Bassanio blasted his next hot, musky breath on you directly, with furore.
Shylock makes a show of leaning back, acting disgusted he has to even argue this let alone tolerate the shared air. "What," he asks, gaze steady; "Wouldst thou have a horse kick thee twice?" Ok, so that wasn't the line; the rat was running with it now tho'.
Antonio finally looked up from his sorrowful pose. "I pray you, think you question with the Jew. You may as well go stand upon the beach. And bid the main flood bate his usual height. You may as well use question with the wolf. Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb. You may as well forbid the mountain pines. To wag their high tops and to make no noise when they are fretten with the gusts of heaven.
You may as well do anything most hard as seek to soften that--than which what's harder?--(A long, dramatic pause and a rattling of his handcuffs.) His Jewish heart: therefore, I do beseech you, please make no more offers, use no farther means, but with all brief and plain conveniency. (His head slumps forward and he frowns.) Let me have judgment and the Jew his will.
The equine hung his head low, his energy drained...
'Man,' Mick thinks in the back of his mind. Shakespheare could of really been a dick. Shylock, on the other hand, used to a life of talk like that, refuses to fold his hand even when offered for double the orignial bond of three thousand. "What judgement shall I dread, doing were in six parts and every part a ducat, I would not draw them." He's resolute, now staring at the head-hanging horse with fire in his eyes. "I would have my bond."
"How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none?Upon my power I may dismiss this court, unless Bellario, a learned doctor whom I have sent for to determine this come here to-day." The latex fox makes a mistake in his lines. An understandable one, but the crowd groans softly at that.
Mickey had opened his mouth for the block of lines he know is coming, but when the duke carries on he's thrown for the moment, then pushes through.
"What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? You have among you many a purchased slave, which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, you use in abject and in slavish parts." He's pointing to each the actors, then to the 'galley' of the audiance. "Because you bought them: shall I say to you, 'let them be free, marry them to your heirs? Why sweat they under burthens? Let their beds be made as soft as yours and let their palates be season'd with such viands? You will answer 'The slaves are ours:'east !
The rat turns back to face the court. "So do I answer you: The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, is dearly bought; 'tis mine and I will have it. If you deny me, fie upon your law! There is no force in the decrees of Venice. I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it? Must we wait?"
A hooded messenger arrives and whispers to the Duke, whose eyes widen in alarm. He is handed a letter which he studies with trembling hands. "This letter doth commend a young and learned doctor to our court. Where is he?" A mare dressed as a male stud (complete with false bulge) makes her way on stage. Bowing politely. The long letter is read, to which the mare nods. "Whicj is the merchant and which is the Jew?" She inquires.
Shylock had taken a seat in a wooden chair near the court bench to await the doctor, and from his sleeves he had produced a sharp looking blade to scrape and sharpen against the leather of his shoes. When the mare asks 'Jew', the rat scrapes the metal in such a way that it sings in its answer. Who else is the jew but the shiny looking rat? "Shylock, is my name," he adds bitingly.
"The Venetian law cannot impugn you as you doth proceed. And Lawfully this Jew may claim a pound of flesh..." And things go off track from here. Your hands gripped by strong Clydesdales as you are held in place. Antonio's handcuffs undone as he started to undo his noble dress...buttons on his vest first to expose the broad, carved chest. And then undoing the belt from his pants and stepping out to give you a good look at the "pound of flesh" you were getting. Thick, girthy horsecock...
Wait, what? Shylock wears a look of complete and utter shock. Fitting, because Mick's wearing it genuinely. She had admittedly sat through the dress rehersals, but somehow always fell asleep by the end. In her defense, it /is/ Shakespheare! The rat looks about to the Clydesdales, then on Antonio's nude form. "G-give me my principal and let me go!" He squeaks; clearly now of a changed mind!
"Shall I not have barely my principal?"
"You may have a pound of flesh...but not a single drop of the merchant's precious cum spilled..." Your legs are held up as well to expose you in your dress, panties ripped off you and tail tied around your wrist to keep it out of the way, even as the flat, drooling equine cockhead pressed against your pucker. He was massive...
Shylock's throat visibly gulps as he peers between his legs. That's gotta me more then a pound, surely! The rat knows what line is being waited for, so he does his best to prepare himself while also trying to display a little struggle. "Why..then the devil give him good of it..I'll stay no longer question," his restrained tail tries to twitch when his tailhole is pressed against, and Shylock bites his lower lip.
"Thou shalt have nothing but thy forfeiture, to be so taken at thy peril, Jew." And then Antonio pushed in. Hissing with heavy breaths from pent up arousal. As he tries to hilt in, he can only just barely fit his cockhead inside you and perhaps the first inch, spreading you nicely around that mass of throbbing, pulsing flesh. Hot pre lubing your anal passage in lewd spurts.
Mickey, being the seasoned rat she is, knows she can take it. Shylock, on the other hand, can't.
Mickey, being the seasoned rat she is, knows she can take it. Shylock, on the other hand, can't. He makes a show of kicking his legs as the first inches pop in, and the actor playing Antonio would find the rat clenching tight to give the full experiance. It takes a bit for Mick to fight back an outright moan, but he manages somehow. Luckily he has no lines, that he could remember at this point in time as more of the rat starts to open up.
Antonio just starts to press in with the help of his two friends...and Bassanio even breaks character to fish out his own massive cock. Spitroasting you thoroughly between two of them. Stretching your throat...heavy orbs slapping up against your chin and your rump so firmly and so pent up that they almost leave bruises. And the scent of rich equine musk and the thick taste of pre filling your belly...
Shylock has his head tossed back as Antonio fills him more with each stroke, and when Bassanio steps forward to join the fun the rat takes the offered length of extra horsemeat with a bit more eagerness then the plot likely called for. As he's sawed between the two the audiance can see both bulges, confirming it is no trick, and the rodent's flagging cock already dribbling and flicking his seed against the stud's stomach. The jew gets not only his forfiture, but added interest!
The lights have dimmed and the scene seems to be over...though now your hands were repositioned before they were released. Letting you cup Bassanio's heavy sac even as both of them hilted all the way into your trained orifices. Antonio's massive hand wrapped around your cock and pumping away while his thumb jiggled yoir orbs.
Shylock's slender cock spills the rest of his seed into Antonio's hand, and when his fingertips brush against the soft coolness of those fertile balls her grasps them instinctively. Filled from both ends, it wouldn't be a surprise if the nanites had reworked the smaller actor's body so that the duel tips nearly touched within. With his nose firmly between Bassanio's wrinkled sacflesh and his leg twitching weakly along Antonio's side, Skylock could very well get away with not spilling a single drop with the way his belly balloons to accomodate and how he's stuffed from both ends as the lights fade.
