Dawning On Him

It’s now the crack of dawn, and the early shift guard-mistress begins he duty by asking the prisoner-slave if he had slept well?

When he politely and regrettably informs her that he had not slept at all, due to the enormous pressure bearing down on his neck, she laughs and tells him that’s a pity, since he will now be experiencing another full day of pain and humiliation at the hands of the good townsfolk. She advises him to brace himself, therefore, for much more suffering.

The prisoner thanks the guard-mistress kindly for her words of warning and steels himself for more public mockery at his expense. He doesn’t have to wait long before a young, tracksuited woman – out for her early-morning jog, stops by to tease and torment him.

It just so happens to be the same young woman who had overnight left her kneeboot for him to sniff. She now crouches down and offers him one of her used, pink bootsocks to sniff – an offer which the prisoner ‘gratefully’ accepts (not that he has much choice given that the uniformed Gynarchy-guard mistress is now standing behind him with her whip and exhorting him to show respect and gratitude towards the crouching mistress for her kind, if smelly, offer!)

The tracksuit girl decides to drape the sock over the top of her boot, so that the prisoner ‘gets the best of both worlds’! She then surveys her handiwork and sarcastically tells the prisoner to ‘have a nice day’, before resuming her jog.

Meanwhile the Righteous master-sir who had been observing the prisoner-slave being taunted in the stocks all day yesterday has returned – this time with his Righteous wife – for some more gloating. See how he laughs and points at the prisoner. He is saying to his wife:

‘Forsooth, my dear, let us approach the vile sinner-prisoner that we may foist our righteousness upon him and glory in our eternal salvation from the pain and suffering that he must endure. Ha! Ha! Let us mock and revile him in his abject miserableness!’

Demure though she is, his good lady wife (who is much younger than him), replies in the affirmative:

‘Indeed, dear husband. Though it be but morningtide, I must confess to being somewhat lubricious down below at the sight of this sinner’s humiliation and degradation. Let us approach him that we may glory in his suffering and rejoice in our freedom!’

The archane Righteous couple then do just that, approaching the pillory with the elderly, bearded man even pressing the prisoner’s neck further down into the sweaty sock and boot resting on top of the singing boulder beneath his face, as he sarcastically asks him:

‘Speak up, thou vilest of vermin. How findest thou the stench of thy mistress’s boot and sock in thy face? Be they pleasing aromas in which to bury thine criminal countenance?’

The prisoner-slave replies to the man’s Self-Righteous speak in humble slave-speak:

‘Oh pray, master sir, if it pleases you most Righteous and holy master sir, truly this slave bemoans the aroma of stale sock and boot that he must endure, but recognises that he has no choice in the matter, if you would be so kind and understanding to a lowly prisoner-slave in the pillory, master sir? Please don’t beat me master sir! Thanking you kindly, sir.’

The Righteous master-sir, quite righteously, laughs at the prisoner’s obsequious response, and proceeds to taunt him some more, much to the delight of the two watching women:

‘And what thinkest thou, slave? Be thou worthy of mine pretty wife’s silken-white stockings on thy scurvy nose? Dost thou yearn to inhale the fragrance of mine beloved’s feet from the texture and weave of her hose?’

The prisoner-slave knows it is a trick question, and that he could never be worthy of the honour of sniffing a Righteous woman’s white, silk stockings – not in her eyes anyway – however much he might yearn to do so. He therefore respectfully declines the Righteous master-sir’s tentative, though never to be taken seriously, offer:

‘Oh pray master sir, if it pleases you most mighty and magnificent, Righteous master sir, truly this slave thanks the master-sir kindly for his suggestion, but begs to inform the master sir, and his good lady wife if this slave may make so bold, sir, that he is in no way worthy of such an honour, since the good lady’s stockings are pure and holy, master sir, like the good lady herself, and this slave is but a vile and wretched sinner, master sir. Pray beat me, sir, if I should ever develop hankerings for the stockings of a woman who is so pure and holy as your good lady wife, master sir! This slave must make do with inhaling the impure bootsocks of a non-believer, sir, if you and your good lady wife would be so kind and understanding to an humble prisoner, master sir?’

The Righteous couple both laugh out loud at the prisoner-slave, as does the guard-mistress standing behind him, and it slowly begins to dawn on the stupid prisoner-slave in the pillory that he has a whole day of similar public mockery to endure. He sobs into the stinky, pink sock surrounding his nose, and the trio of free persons around him guffaw with undisguised glee as it is always a joy to witness a prisoner-slave broken and humbled in the pillory!