FILM 911

This is a script submission and some changes have been made to the script below in the final product. Script was originally written for Beckett. For example, a gag wasn’t used, no scene in a fenced off yard, and so forth. Most of the script is intact.

p

SCENE 1: 

Location: Any room, SMITH stands, and BECKETT is tied to a chair next to him in a shiny speedo in a colour he clearly didn’t choose, actively struggling to break free of his bonds. He looks furiously at SMITH and the camera – the vibe here is ‘untamable.’ The struggle should be nearly constant. 

SMITH: [Speaking directly to the camera]  Mr. Latcher…

[a brief pause here as SMITH collects his thoughts – BECKETT calls him a muffled insult through his gag] 

I know that you expected your new slave Beckett to be programmed and delivered by today, but there have been complications. As you are well aware, Beckett is…well, he’s…

[A pause as BECKETT nearly knocks his chair over] 

Beckett is highly resistant to standard hypnosis techniques and as a result is damn near untrainable, but we do have some ideas for how to keep the fury you have been looking for without losing the control we have built a reputation on. We just need a bit more time. 

[SMITH leaves frame returning with a small spray bottle filled with liquid – BECKETT looks indignant with maybe even a slight bit of fear at the sight of this with the implication being he has seen this bottle before. ] 

SMITH: While typical tactics have failed, we’ve produced a chemical that can break down his defences and make him more docile – however temporarily. 

[BECKETT squirms at this, and SMITH cracks a small smile at what’s to come]  

SMITH: If you wouldn’t mind indulging me in a demonstration. 

[SMITH spritz BECKETT in the face once, and BECKETT does everything in his power to get away from the concoction, but SMITH is relentless. Two sprays near BECKETT’s face are more than enough, and for the first time, BECKETT is tame with eyes staring forward glossed over.]

SMITH: [Pulls the gag down BECKETT’s face.] How are you feeling, Beckett?

BECKETT: Angry.

SMITH: Do you want to be a good slave for Mr. Latcher?

BECKETT: No. 

SMITH: [Turns to the camera] As you can see, I wasn’t exaggerating. Even with the chemical, he is quite resistant to complete mental shutdowns. Still, in this state, we believe some limited conditioning, including direct commands, should still work so long as he is routinely dosed.  You did request raw animalism – and it doesn’t get much rawer than this. He’s straight too which I know wasn’t a request, but it is always a fun challenge. 

Beckett, I want you to say, ‘I’m a slave, and I love men’ for your new Master, Mr. Latcher. 

[BECKETT squirms even as his eyes try to focus, the words coming out with just the slightest hint of resistance.]

BECKETT: I…am a…s…[he inhales slowly] slave. I…lov…love me…n.

SMITH: Very good. Now, I understand you’ve agreed to a video inspection. It’s unfortunate, but Beckett is simply too unconstrained for your standard in-person probing. Are you ready to begin?

SMITH: Excellent. Now, Beckett, I’m going to rub your body and show it off to your new master now. Do I have your consent for that? 

BECKETT: [straining] N…o…no. I..I’ll…

SMITH: Say ‘yes’ Beckett.

BECKETT: [losing the battle] Yes. 

SMITH: Good.

[SMITH slowly begins to massage BECKETT’s chest and abs. He keeps an eye on the small moments of discomfort and resistance that break out on BECKETT’s face. SMITH can’t help but laugh a little bit to himself during the presentation and begins to play a little bit with the helpless BECKETT, his professional facade temporarily discarded for an almost clinical personal curiosity as he delves into BECKETT’s pits, navel, groin, abs, and chest. Under his breath, SMITH is clearly making audible medical notes.

SMITH: so strong…yes…this will do nicely…low heart rate…even under this stress?…hmm…  

[In the end, SMITH spends a few minutes exploring BECKETT’s body, poking here, running his hands there, and the whole while glimmers of resistance break through for BECKETT. He occasionally grimaces or struggles momentarily against his bonds, but it’s an uphill battle.] 

SMITH: [almost dreamily] He is certainly something… I can see why he requested this – a kind of animal magnetism…wait…

[SMITH’s exploration of the tied and drugged BECKETT ends with the face, mouth, and teeth being touched and gently examined. Suddenly, SMITH gets an idea. Forcefully with a kind of detached malice, SMITH holds his hand over BECKETT’s mouth and nose BECKETT almost instantly begins to stir and struggle for air. SMITH lets go as the sounds of tested bondage and grunts of panic break SMITH’s advances and concentration. As he lets go, BECKETT gasps and SMITH sprays him forcing a greater inhaled dose. SMITH grins in delight before suddenly remembers he’s in the middle of a call] 

SMITH: Umm. Right! *cough* Right, sorry about that. I just had an idea that you are going to love, but for now… Beckett, sleep.

[BECKETT slumps, his resistance depleted for the moment.]

SMITH: Obviously, we don’t expect you to take him like this. He’s basically feral, but hopefully, this does explain the delay up to this point. We’re going to work on some fundamental triggers today and tomorrow. Some of them for safety, some for fun, and…

[SMITH runs a finger down the cheek of BECKETT] 

SMITH: …we’re innovating on a way to deliver our magic potion here consistently. All told, I feel optimistic we can have this to you by the end of the week. Yes. Thank you, Mr. Latcher. We’ll talk soon.  

[SMITH turns presses a button under the camera. He then turns to BECKETT with a sarcastic droll] 

How does that sound, Beckett? Are you eager to be a good slave for your new Master?

[Even after all this, BECKETT begins to break free of the drug bit by bit, grumbles and wakes up twitching slightly.]

BECKETT: N…No…

[A moment of concern shows up on SMITH’s face as BECKETT’s minor resistance is slowly cascading into a whole struggle sooner than expected. With a sigh and a final spritz in BECKETT’s face, SMITH quells the fire and BECKETT’s head slumps.]

SMITH: Save your energy. It’s going to be a long week. 

— 

[Scene: The garage. BECKETT is gagged and restrained by the wrist to the ceiling in the same speedo as before. He struggles relentlessly against his bonds, attempting to shout every insult in the book as SMITH walks in and begins inspecting BECKETT thoroughly. SMITH lightly touches and moves BECKETT around against his will inspecting every inch. When he finishes he gives BECKETT a firm slap on the ass – almost playfully.]

SMITH: Come on, Beckett. It’s been days, and you’re still like a wild horse. No one is coming. You’re not breaking free, so don’t you think it’s time to give in? [SMITH sighs] Mr. Latcher is about to call us back for a check-in, and if you embarrass me, I’m not going to take it well. 

[SMITH grabs BECKETT’s face with his hand squeezing his cheeks together slightly as BECKETT tries desperately to turn his face away.] 

SMITH: You think this has been bad? You’re lucky you’re going to Mr. Latcher. If Mr. Kolowski were your buyer, I’d almost have a twinge of remorse. Now shut it  – 

[With that, he gives BECKETT a puff of concoction in the face and begins preparing for the call. BECKETT resists as best he can, trying in vain to shake the cobwebs out, but he’s no match and his head slumps forward. A ping from the camera side signals Mr. Latcher’s call. SMITH answers with a touch.]

SMITH: Mr. Latcher, so good to see you again. You’ll be pleased to know that things are progressing wonderfully with Beckett. He’s still a bit rough and tumble, but we’re making real progress, right Beckett? 

[SMITH once again gropes BECKETT’s ass with a firm slap and puts a hand on the top of his head to turn him towards the camera nodding his head up and down – BECKETT’s glazed-over eyes roll barely focusing. SMITH takes a moment to run his hand over BECKETT’s exposed body.]

SMITH: You’ll also be happy to know that and we’ve made substantial progress with breaking down BECKETT’s subconscious. We’ve added a few commands and conditions – a demonstration: 

SMITH: Beckett, [BECKETT stirs slightly] who owns you?

BECKETT: [Dreamily] Mr. Lat…cher

SMITH: Very good. And, how much control does he have over you?

BECKETT: Com…plete.

SMITH: Good. Now, for your new master, say you’re a slave, and you love men. 

[BECKETT rumbles and resists just a bit, but SMITH is on it and hits him with another spray.]

BECKETT: [Dejectedly] I am a slave 

[BECKETT’s head once again slumps forward.]

SMITH: Now hold on, did you forget something?

[BECKETT’s head bobs up wearily and with a glint of defiance…]

BECKETT: …and I love…men.

SMITH: [to the camera] See? Progress. We’re right on schedule. Right, yes, alright. Ok, it’s always a pleasure, sir. I’ll see you on the greens. Ok, bye now.

[The call ends]

SMITH: Well done, Beckett. Now then, it’s about sleepy time, isn’t it?

BECKETT: You’re n…never going to break me…

[BECKETT spits in defiance.] 

[SMITH rolls his eyes more agitated at the inconvenience than concerned. He pickles up a rag and sprays it a few times.]

SMITH: [Dead pan] Open your mouth. 

[BECKETT struggles to resist.]

SMITH: Open. Your. Mouth.

[BECKETT opens his mouth, looking dejected. SMITH jams the chemical soaked rag into his mouth, leaving BECKETT hanging from the ceiling, beaten.]

—

[SCENE: Bedroom door – BECKETT stands eyes closed, swaying listlessly in the middle of the room. Mr. Smith stands nearby.]

SMITH: Now, Beckett, I’m starting to think that you are just too willful to be controlled through traditional conditioning, but while we can’t shut down your mind without the drug, I think I might have a unique way to keep you under your new master’s thumb. Let’s try this. 

[SMITH clears his throat] 

SMITH: From this point on, you will find that you cannot walk through a door frame or cross an established threshold without permission from your masters. Right now, that’s me, but soon it will be Mr. Latcher. Do you understand?

BECKETT: [mumbling slightly under his breath] Ye..s, yes.

SMITH: Repeat it back to me.

BECKETT: I cannot…I cannot walk through a door frame or… cross a threshold or a without permission from my ma…sters. You and Mr. Latcher.

SMITH: Very good. Now, and this one is important, whenever a master says the command phrase ‘contained,’ you will find that a threshold appears in a small square at your feet completely containing you. Do you understand? Repeat it.

BECKETT: When a master says…

[BECKETT shakes his head once as though not quite believing what he’s saying] 

BECKETT: …‘contained,’ the threshold is a square at my feet that I cannot cross.

SMITH: Good. Good. Let’s test it. [SMITH turns to someone off camera] Be ready with the tranq.  Beckett! Wake up!

[BECKETT shakes his head for a moment and looks around as he comes through the fog. He checks his wrists for restraints and finding none immediately rushes towards SMITH a few steps.] 

SMITH: CONTAINED!

[BECKETT is suddenly stopped in place. He looks confused and mimes the “walls” that now surround him. 

BECKETT: What is this? What? Oh, you are so dead when I figure out what you’ve done to me! 

[BECKETT slams a fist against the open air. He turns his head around as though trying to find an exit from this imaginary boundary. SMITH smuggly looks BECKETT over while walking around him, all the while BECKETT shuffles in impotent rage to keep his eyes locked on SMITH.]

SMITH: Mr. Latcher is going to love yo…

[Perhaps too confidently, SMITH pokes a finger beyond the confines of the ‘box.’ BECKETT grabs his hand. SMITH yelps but produces a hit of the chemical just in time and sprays BECKETT in the face. BECKETT fights it but begrudgingly lets go of SMITH’s hand as his eyes stare at the middle distance once again. SMITH appears agitated, but quickly collects himself – returning to a kind of scientific dissociation.] 

SMITH: [lifting BECKETT’s arms and inspecting them as they fall] I know it didn’t look it, but that’s a success. Even without the chemical, suggestions and conditions seem to remain even in the post-hypnotic state. [To someone off screen] Get Mr. Latcher on the phone. His lion is ready for the circus. [SMITH grins wickedly and taps BECKETT on the ass as BECKETT sways listlessly] 

—

[SCENE: Same as the opening. BECKETT struggles against his bonds. His mouth gagged as SMITH smiles smugly for the camera.] 

SMITH: Mr. Latcher. I have good news. You won’t believe what we’ve achieved with Beckett here and in such a short amount of time. He is worth the wait and every cent. He is safe and under control, but still with that animal ferocity. Isn’t that right Beckett? Hah. [SMITH lightly taps the top of BECKETT’s head]

[At this condescending mockery, BECKETT really starts acting up like we haven’t seen before gagged epitaphs flying at Mr. Latcher and Smith. SMITH takes a moment to just smile like a magician about to reveal the prestige.] 

SMITH: The commands are good and there’s lots of room to grow, but we thought – how can we keep the wildness and ferocity you are looking for while keeping our most valued customer in control. Well, we’ve figured out just the thing. 

[SMITH reveals a half-face respirator mask, BECKETT’s bravado seems to give way to a genuine kind of panic as he sees what’s in store for him.]

SMITH: This device automatically administers the chemical either routinely or via remote control. Once it’s affixed to our subject’s face, like so… 

[SMITH moves behind BECKETT and drops his gag.]

BECKETT: [Struggling in vain] You’re not putting that shit back on me!

[Despite his best efforts, BECKETT cannot escape, and SMITH walks behind him and affixes the mask to BECKETT’s face unkindly. With it fully secure, BECKETT’s rails against it, trying to somehow knock it off to no avail. SMITH checks the straps and pats BECKETT on the head once lightly as he moves back to his seat.] 

SMITH: …he’s completely powerless against it. As I mentioned, the mask has a timer for sustained control or this remote for a more bespoke experience.

[SMITH presses a button, and we hear a beep along with a puff BECKETT tries to hold his breath against the chemical, but he is ultimately forced to breathe in the dose – his eyes gloss over once again] 

SMITH: We’ve built in a condition that he doesn’t know how to take it off once it’s affixed. I won’t lie to you, Mr. Latcher, Beckett was a tough one, but we are confident you’ll have the wild beast when you want it and the beauty [SMITH grins and lifts BECKETT’s face by the chin] when you need it. Thank you, sir. We look forward to your next order.  

[The call with Mr. Latcher ends.]

SMITH: You’ve made me a lot of money today Beckett. I think you deserve a reward. Mr. Latcher is due to pick you up in a few more days. How about you enjoy a little bit of free time before you are shipped off? Eh? Would you like that? 

BECKETT: [dreamily] Yes.

SMITH: Yes…what?

BECKETT: [a slight twang of resistance] Y…es s.ir..

[Another beep and a puff emanates from the mask as SMITH chuckles to himself and his newly controlled beast.] 

—

The following can be either or both based on what’s available.

 

OPTION 1: In a fenced-off yard, BECKETT paces in his speedo and respirator. He’s clearly been out here a while as he is increasingly filthy and wild-eyed. He may be trained now, but he has never looked more feral. He alternates between uselessly trying to cross the boundaries – stopped as though by some invisible force – and trying to take off the respirator but without being able to figure it out. He periodically squats in frustration, wildly trying to figure out what to do or how to escape. 

Even now, in this predicament, he is too proud to shout for help and just grunts and raves at SMITH who, nearby, drinks in a lawn chair on the safe side of a boundary. He’s enjoying the fruits of his labours. If it’s raining SMITH has an umbrella because he wouldn’t miss this daily show for anything.

BECKETT: [Slightly muffled from the mask] WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!? I swear once I get this thing off, I’m tearing this place apart, and you WITH IT. LET ME OUT OF HERE! 

[If there are things to be safely destroyed, he destroys them with an animal frustration adding to a pile of refuse around the yard.] 

SMITH: Uh huh…maybe try a running start? 

[A small alarm goes off on SMITH’s wrist.] 

Awww, can you believe that’s all the free time you have for today? Alright, Beckett. Time to clean up and get ready.

BECKETT: Don’t you da…

[SMITH presses a button on a small remote and it triggers the beep and puff of the mask activating. BECKETT holds on as best he can, violently struggling against the mask, but once again after a moment is forced to breathe in the dose] 

SMITH: Beckett. Clean up your mess and come in for a shower. Mr. Lachter is coming to pick you up today. Say you are sad to go, Beckett. 

BECKETT: I am sad to go. 

SMITH: [mockingly] I know, but we knew this was going to happen eventually. The end of one thing is just the beginning of another.  

BECKETT: Yes Mr. Smith. 

[BECKETT then proceeds to obediently clean up. Maybe this is a few scenes of filling in holes or raking leaves or picking up broken debris from his tirade.]

—

OPTION 2: The scene opens to BECKETT pacing back and forth with his mask on in the office. The room is a mess, clearly turned over by a still somehow dirty and feral BECKETT.  Every now and then he walks towards the door, but his programming stops him from crossing. He is clearly deeply frustrated by this and he bashes a palm against the wall. 

BECKETT: [Slightly muffled from the mask] I swear once I get this thing off, I’m tearing this place apart, and you WITH IT. LET ME OUT OF HERE. 

[If there are things to be safely destroyed, he destroys them with an animal frustration.] 

[SMITH appears on the other side of the door frame.]

SMITH: What is all this racket? Are you not enjoying your free time? 

BECKETT:  YOU MONSTER! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME? TAKE THIS THING OFF ME! 

SMITH: Well, someone is in a bad mood. Do you need a nap? A few hours of medication should set you straight, would you like that? 

[BECKETT smoulders with hatred, pacing back and forth. With his other hand, SMITH pulls out the remote control.]

BECKETT: Don’t you da…

SMITH: I’m just kidding. We don’t have time for that kind of nap. I need you to straighten this room out then get cleaned up – Mr. Lachter is coming to get you today.  

BECKETT: You son of a…

*beep-hisss*

BECKETT: No!

[BECKETT is forced to breathe in the chemicals again and stands docile with his hands at his side.]

SMITH: Today’s your last day with me Beckett.

BECKETT: Yes, Mr. Smith.

SMITH: I’m going to miss you, Beckett. I think it would be kind of you to say you’re going to miss me.

BECKETT: I’m going to miss you, Mr. Smith.

SMITH: Awww…so sweet in the end. Anyway, clean this mess up and get ready for your shower. Mr. Lachter is picking you up today, and I don’t want you to look a mess. 

[BECKETT proceeds to tidy up the room. He puts the couch upright, returns books to the shelves, and proceeds to stand perfectly still waiting for SMITH to return and collect him for his shower… 

—

Scene – BECKETT stands perfectly still, no mask, in the shower. The water runs over him as SMITH’s voice comes from off-screen.

SMITH: Alright, Beckett, why not scrub yourself down, and release a little bit of tension. You’ve had a hard week, you deserve a little bit of self-care.  I’m going to leave you to it, but remember – you’re contained, so don’t even think about stepping out of that shower until I come and get you. 

[BECKETT, under control, sensually showers himself off, reaching down to massage and clean his substantial dick masturbating it with the fervour that only a week of sub domination can bring. This is the release of a week of frustration.] 

[After a few minutes of this, the drug wears off and slowly BECKETT’s hands go from rubbing suds into agitated fists. He shakes his head, clearing the last of the concoction from his mind. His eyes wildly dart around, looking for some way to resist the post-hypnotic conditioning and escape. After a few moments of effort in vain, he realizes that he can’t, he puts a hand against the shower wall dejectedly and begrudgingly finishes cleaning himself before sinking into a  seated position in the tub letting the water run over his defeated body.]

[SMITH enters with a verbal “knock-knock” as he opens the door]

SMITH: You all done buddy?

[seeing BECKETT’s state SMITH chuckles to himself. BECKETT turns towards him smouldering with an impotent fury – his teeth gritted, his fists clenched] 

SMITH: Awww…You realized how hopeless it is to fight eh? I can’t bear to see you like this. I’d love to tell you that it’s going to be ok, but…

[SMITH quickly sprays BECKETT in the face with the chemical bottle as BECKETT tries to swat it away. All concern in SMITH’s voice drops as BECKETT succumbs once again to the drug.] 

SMITH: …it’s really not. Before you go with Mr. Latcher, I do have something for you though, so get up and go to the bedroom. 

BECKETT: Yes, Mr. Smith.

[Without hesitation, BECKETT’s naked body walks out of the tub and drip-dries its way into the bedroom]

—

[SCENE: Bedroom. A close-up of BECKETT’s face staring forward blankly. From behind, SMITH reaffixes the mask to BECKETT’s face almost romantically. Like he’s putting a diamond necklace around the neck of a lover. SMITH can’t help but revel in his victory a bit. He takes it in and puts his hands on BECKETT’s naked shoulders massaging them slightly. There is a brief moment of resistance and recoiling at the touch, but before BECKETT can even react it’s too late. A beep and a puff leave BECKETT’s head bowed – beaten, perhaps for the last time, by SMITH.] 

[Full shot of the bedroom, BECKETT sways listlessly, mask on, eyes unfocused. SMITH walks in with a box that has a gift bow on top.]

SMITH: Surprise! I got you a new speedo. Let’s call it a parting gift. 

[SMITH hands it to BECKETT who accepts without hesitation] 

SMITH: Put it on.

[BECKETT obediently puts on the new speedo and stands staring off into the middle distance.]

SMITH: What a handsome and docile young man you’ve become, but it is missing something, isn’t it?

[SMITH takes the gift bow and places it on BECKETT’s groin – one last indignity.]

SMITH: Perfect. 

—

[SCENE- the Hall]

[SMITH walks BECKETT down the hall towards the exit with one hand on the nape of BECKETT’s neck. Every now and then, SMITH gleefully slaps BECKETT’s ass to a slight twinge of resistance from BECKETT]

SMITH: I’ll admit – I’m going to miss that.

—

[SCENE-Beckett is lead to the outside stoop, newly masked and in a fresh speedo. He is clean, and at least a little bit aware. He struggles against the drug, but is clearly tired and seems to, at last, be breaking. SMITH secures and adjusts the bow on his groin double-checks the mask almost tenderly.] 

SMITH: It’s been fun, honestly it has, but this is it. Mr. Latcher should be here any minute. Just hang out here for a bit. After all, it might be the last time you’re outside in a while. Mr. Latcher isn’t as charitable with the free time as I am.

BECKETT: [through gritted teeth]…stop…no…

[BECKETT begins to struggle and come out of the chemical]

SMITH: Contained.  

[BECKETT reacts to his command word.]

SMITH: Goodbye Beckett – I do hope you enjoy your new life.

[Without another word, SMITH closes the door and goes inside leaving BECKETT unable to leave the stoop. In one last attempt at freedom, he valiantly thrashes this way and that against the invisible walls containing him. He tries one last time to take off the mask to no avail, and we end with a close-up of his panicked eyes with the sound of a car pulling up followed by the beep and puff from his mask on a black screen.]