we find the duke jean pierre in the study of his stately abode, our studious duke is seated in a throne-like burgundy leather chair that was made by the finest craftsmen in all the land. the refined dukal gent is scribing an old timey document with a quill when someone unexpected enters
tis The baron lothar von greyskull, the dukes mortal enemy, the decrepit baron comes dressed in leathers, black as night. his aged lung wheeze like a rattle.
the duke grinned and piped “oh my, look who’s risen, from the murky depths of hell, my elderly baron, by my trope i say, you should have remained in the blaze, there is nothing here for you now. my coffers are empty and my wenches have turned ill, now make haste old baron and be gone, while you’re here searching for a suitable place to die, i’ve state affairs to attend to”
the baron hobbled his ancient frame across the floor, holding the duke’s gaze. he placed his palms upon the desk, and leaned in to rasp
“i have come, to fuck your mind and take your life, you have betrayed me”
The duke casually picked up a wizardly smoking pipe from his desk, struck a match and fired it up. he took a nice long puff and sent the minty pipe smoke billowing into the barons leathered face.
“oh my, that’s quite vexing lothar my old nemesis, i’m confounded, you see, i’d been assured of your demise by my a-trusted squireboy, davey.”
“HA! your “boy” davey took of aged mead from the chalice of champions and he’s professing dribble”
the duke enjoyed the longest, slowest puff he’d ever taken in his life, just to show the baron who was in control, he exhaled again, nice and slow, a river of froth oozed from the duke and enveloped the barons wrinkled body.
“oh lothar you wretched fiend, so you’re back again and peddling balderdash about my dearest davey. imagine, davey, quaffing potions with reckless abandon, that sounds a proper wash. that is surely not my davey. no no.”
the baron leaned in closer and held a penetrating glare.
“your boy davey was at the helm of the clipper ship, in my mind.”
“I beg your pardon baron?”
“davey was at the helm. until i fired him into the abyss…the abyss of your mind, duke, the abyss…of your mind.”
“wha-what’s happening? I don’t like this, what brand of devilry is this? there’s a tingle betwixt mine ears, thy brain is…throbbing!.”
the duke dropped the lengthy hand crafted pipe on the desk, and sunk his face deep into his noble hands to shield himself from this new reality
“prepare for your mind-fucking duke”
“oh no, my dukal brain barriers have been penetrated by your treachery, why, you vagabond!”
The baron widened his stance and began to thrust his pelvis back and forth, simulating rhythmic coital pumps. each thrust sent a wave of pain and hysteria through the duke’s regal mind.
the duke cried, “please, i beg you baron, no more. your psionic phallus is destroying meee!!! ”
the baron whispered “the abyss of your mind gives me ultimate pleasure”
“your mind tool is pilfering my kingly crevasse, my genteel baron, please grant me clemency-eeee!”
the baron remained steadfast, ignoring the feeble pleas, he continued thrusting.
the duke slumped to the floor as he shat his pantaloons, farting loudly while sobbing as well.
the baron took the up the old timey smoking pipe, and puffed it very hard on his way out, at the door he turned to the sobbing, shit soaked duke and said “phase one complete, your mind is fucked, i’ll be back”
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