Summary:

In the late 18th century, two childhood friends went their separate ways in life, but met again at a party. Harsh words were exchanged, and now blood must be shed.

Notes:

Thank you for taking the time to read my script. If you'd like to perform it, feel free to alter it to suit your delivery or taste. I realize this is on the longer side, so feel free to cut lines at your discretion. If you have questions or comments, message me!

Although inspired by a vague picture of 18th century duels, this story is not rooted in any specific place or time, and contains essentially no accurate information. Except the word frizzen. That one's real. If you'd like to learn more about dueling, you can read the Irish code duello, accepted as the general standard in the late 18th century, here: https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/duel-code-duello-rules-dueling/.

Please credit /u/mrbrumbly if you perform or otherwise use this script.

All characters are over 18. This fantasy was written for consenting adults.

Don't play with guns.

{A physical description of what is happening to help guide the performer}

*Suggested tone or sound made by performer*

<background sound> optional, though the pistol firing sound is important. This one will work fine: http://soundbible.com/2120-9mm-Gunshot.html)

----

{It is the late 18th century, and dueling is a common way to settle personal grievances. At a party several days before, the listener insulted you and accepted your subsequent challenge to duel. Now the two of you are alone in a secluded clearing. You stand very close, face to face, before the duel begins.}

<Woodland sounds, bird calls>

*Confident* Losing your nerve? You're trembling. It's not too late. Rescind your disgusting lies about me and you can depart with your life. Like when you fled the academy, a coward.

You are determined to see this through? Very well. Because I am the offended party, I will select my pistol first. You shall have its counterpart.

You do know how to operate that thing, don't you? I remember you were late for all the weapons instruction when we were young. Too busy painting butterflies or studying birds. Have you ever killed anything larger than a rabbit?

Good Lord, you really don't know what you're doing. Here. Lift the flint to half-cock. Pour in the black powder. Not too much. Use the hammer to strike in the ball. Good. Open the frizzen and dust the pan with powder. Close it back up. Careful, you are now holding a deadly weapon. And for God's sake don't forget to pull it to full-cock before you fire.

Put your back to mine. I'll count us five paces. When you hear five, turn, and shoot.

Pray you don't miss.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

<The blast of pistol fire>

{The listener falls. You are unharmed, and rush to his side}

*Out of breath* God damn it. Did you even get the shot off? What were you thinking dueling with me? You know I'm the best shot in the county. Such a fool.

Shhh, don't talk. Let me inspect the wound. Good, the ball passed through your shoulder. I'm going to bandage it for now. I'll clean it properly when we get to my cabin.

Stay still. This is your own fault. All of this is your fault. You left the academy years ago without a word to me, in the dead of night, like a bandit. You've always avoided me since. Even when your first book was published and I tried to visit you you turned me away, like we weren't friends for our entire childhoods. Like I never mattered-- *Exasperated* Oh, never mind!

I'm going to lift you up now. This will hurt. My cabin isn't far.

You're thanking me? Well. That's the first sensible thing you've done all day. Maybe all year.

<door opening and closing>

*Grunting a bit with exertion* On the bed with you. You're a bit more solid than you look. I'm going to have to remove these clothes. Put your hand down. Oh, stop resisting. The waistcoat and shirt are ruined anyway.

*Laughing* Your modesty? It's not like I haven't seen your bare chest before. Besides, I put a bullet in you not half an hour ago. Let us assume certain intimacies.

*flustered for the first time* When we were at the academy. When you were studying frogs. You stripped to your smallclothes and went into the river. The way the clear river water gleamed on your chest...

Yes, I was there. I may have had a habit of... spying on you.

Nevermind that now. Whatever you think, these clothes have to come off. It's a shame, they are fine. Them being soaked in your blood even gives them a romantic luster. But I have to get at that wound. Hold still.

<Fabric ripping or rustling>

There.

*A breath as the performer takes in the listener's body*

Well, you're still pretty. Even the stain of gore on you is beautiful, as if you have been painted with rose petals.

Here, I have alcohol. Let me pour it over the wound.

<Liquid falling>

Be quiet. *Gentler* I'm going to clean it now. Shh, shh shh.... Just rest. Let me help you.

<Sound of water here. Maybe a towel dipping in a pan and dripping water? Should be rhythmic and soothing. A healing sound. This continues.>

Yes, of course I prepared for this. You thought I invited you out to the woods so I could kill you and leave you for the crows to eat?

*Suddenly exhausted* How did it come to this? You were my closest friend in the academy. I remember when you first arrived, with your trunk full of books and your eyes bright with wonder... I showed you every secret place in the forest: where the birds hid their nests, where snakes rested in the sun, where stones lay that you could find nowhere else. I defended you from the meaner kids who tried to hurt you. And you taught me to read, when others laughed at me. You taught me how to tell a lifeless painting from a masterpiece. You told me of countries far away, when I had never been farther than a day's horse ride. Now I can't pick up a book without thinking of you. I think of you when I look at a painting, when I hear owls at night, when the setting sun turns the sky red...

<sound of water stops>

I'm going to bandage the wound again. Hopefully you won't get an infection. That's the best I can do for you.

My fault? You forced me into this ridiculous situation!

You know what you did. *Forcibly* What you said.

You called me a slut. A whore. I had to defend my honor. Anything less would be an unendurable humiliation.

Maybe those weren't the exact words you used, but your meaning was clear to everyone at that party. The queen herself looked at me like I was a harlot who came in off the street, freshly used and reeking of men. I have never felt more shame in my entire life. It... soaked... my entire body. I was drenched in it. That you, of all people, would speak about me that way... I had to demand my satisfaction. And I have claimed it.

Why... why did you say those things?

Jealousy?! That is madness... What could you possibly be jealous of?

That's... what you thought? Why I went into the boy's dormitory that night? To be with someone else?

I was protecting you! Yes. One of the other boys was planning to ambush you... You know how some of them were so envious of you, of all the praise you got from the teachers. I sneaked in that night and broke his arm. I still have a scar from that fight. I was proud and eager to show it to you... But then you left before I ever saw you again.

And for that, you called me a whore. When I had never been with anyone. When I was saving myself for you.

No, be quiet. Let me speak.

Since I first began to think of men I thought of you. The first time I... laid a hand on myself it was to the thought of you. I still wake up, flush with need, rutting against my pillows and imagining you, hating myself for it, because you abandoned me.

You made me feel so worthless. And still I want you. Even now, with your chest bare for me, splashed with blood, I see you and remember the young man who showed me the world, and I ache for you.

But you say... you've always wanted me too? You thought I gave myself to another, and that's why you left the academy the very next night? Why you couldn't bear to see me for all this time?

A misunderstanding... leading to years of misfortune.

You... idiot! You fool! Why would you never talk to me, when we could have settled this years ago!

Well, yes, maybe I did tear up some of your letters. And maybe I did dance with other men in front of you at a ball or two.

Maybe I'm not blameless.

*Deep breath*

Just tell me: when you look at me now, do you still see the girl who took you by the hand and showed you the forest? Who protected you from the other children? Do you still see the girl you desired?

*Surprised kissing sounds. Eventually:* I didn't think you'd have the strength to kiss me like that. Lie back down. *Laughing* You're hurt, please lie back down.

Yes, I have your answer. I... can we forgive each other? I want to. Yes. I want to. I want you, I... I finally have you, bare-chested before me, with that look in your eyes... I've dreamed of this...

I want to kiss your chest. Around your wound...

*Kissing* Does that hurt? Maybe you deserve it.

No, I'm not angry anymore, I'm not angry. I want to take care of you. My poor bird. I want to make you feel good. Here...

*More kissing* Kissing on your belly... your chest... along these shoulders... up your throat... And here, kisses along your forehead, a crown for my lord.

Oh, you enjoy it when I call you my lord, do you? Then call me your lady. Say it.

*Pleased giggle or purr* Say it again.

Mmmmm. Then let us proceed as lord and lady. And if you ever forget -- your scar will remind you.

If we are to be equals, I suppose I must remove my shirt as well.

<Clothes rustling>

This... is my body. Please, look as much as you like. There are scars from my battles. I hope that doesn't displease you. My muscles are hard but my skin is soft to the touch. Let me lift my breasts for you. Can you see how excited my nipples are? Your eyes running over me feel like fire on my body. Will you touch me? *begging* I need you to touch me. Please touch me, feel your lady's skin.

*Moans* Ahh... yes... run your hands over me... on my breasts... it feels good... *moaning*

Sir, my need is only growing... may I show you? I'm so wet... I'll take off my breeches...

<Clothes rustling, clank of a belt buckle.>

I am... exposed to you. See how red the lips are? How my thighs gleam with desire for you? No, don't try to move. Here, let me put my knees on either side of your head. There. My pussy is inches from you. Can you smell me? Breath me in. Breathe...

*gasp* Oh! Such an impertinent tongue! *moan* Yes, yes, that feels so good. Flatten your tongue. Cover my pussy with it. Lap at it. Oh, I'm so wet...

*Moans, improv getting eaten out*

I am going to rock against you. You feel so good. So, so good. I'm going to rub my pussy over your tongue... my pleasure is building, it's coming, I'm coming...

*Moaning to orgasm*

*Recovery period, sighs, moans, breaths*

You have done so well. So well. You deserve your own pleasure. Ah, I can feel how hard you are through your breeches.

No, don't move. I will take care of everything. I'm going to pull these down now.

<clothes rustling>

My lord, you should have been a swordsman. I'm surprised your prick can get this hard when you have already lost some blood. It's so hot in my hands! You are moaning so intensely. Is my touch so enjoyable? Here, let me wet my hands and stroke you.

*Spitting sound, then wet handjob sounds* This feels good, doesn't it? Feeling my hands on your shaft? You held these hands when we played as children and now they are wrapped around your cock, pumping up and down, eager to wring all your pleasure from you. Your cock feels wonderful, my lord. Gliding up and down, up and down. I can feel each twitch and pulse that shudders through you.

You need more, don't you? I want to give you more, I want to give you my mouth. Keep your hands at your sides, you'll rip the bandages. You need to heal. Let me take care of everything. I want to please you. I need to please you. After so many wasted years, I need to make up for it all.

*licking, slurping sounds*

I'll lick you from top to bottom, get the shaft nice and wet. The smell and taste of you, it's overwhelming. I love the textures of your cock... the soft sponge of the head, the rigid firmness of the shaft, the delicacy of the balls. *Deep intake through the nostrils* The smell is so strong...

I need to take you deeper. I'm going to put my lips around your cock now. *Talking with lips full* Sliding you into my mouth...

*Sucking and slurping sounds*

*Intake of breath* I can go deeper, I want all of you in me...

*Improv sucking, slurping, gagging, to desired level of depth*

*Deep gasp* Ah, lord! Are you close? It's only fair that you get another shot at me. Where shall you take aim? My breasts? My face? Let me help you. *wet handjob sounds* Oh my God your cock is so hard. It feels so good in my hands. Oh, your balls are so heavy, my lord, they must be so full. Let me tug at them, gently. You're fully cocked now. Shoot. I want you to shoot. Come on me, come on me come on me.

{Listener orgasms}

*Heavy breathing* On my face and breasts... you make up with potency what you lack in accuracy. You must have enjoyed that, hm? I'm so glad. Let me clean us up.

*Licking sounds*

There... I'll lie beside you. You poor thing. My wounded bird. I'm sorry I hurt you. I hope, since it brought us together again, it wasn't too high a price to pay. I'll tend to you, I'll make you well again. I'll be by your side every day, to heal you, to share in pleasure with you. When you're well, when you're healed, I want to feel you inside me. For now, just rest. You must be so exhausted. Rest now. Rest. I'll hold you, here. Listen to my breath. Listen...

*Breathing*

Just rest...

-=End=-