Torturing Your Muse:101

Humor, dark themes. This is an original fic written in combat of the ever-dreaded Writer's Block. Haven't *you* ever wanted to torture your muse?

You know what I mean. Your dog gets hit by a car, your boyfriend/girlfriend dumps you very publicly after telling you they gave you an incurable STD, you get overdraft notices from your bank, and cut-off notices from the electric company. Oh, yeah. You all know those kinds of days.

When you manage to calm down somewhat, (read: the police talk you down off the roof and refer you to a shrink) you make your way to the computer with the intention of writing a chapter or two on one of the fifty stories you've got in progress.

So, naturally, after a day like this, what should happen when you boot up the computer and position your hands over the keyboard? That's right: Writer's Block.

What that means is that your evil, traitorous Muse has decided to take an extended vacation to a kick ass place like the Bahamas or Tahiti, and didn't even leave a note or email address to reach him/her. The treasonous little shit.

So, if you're anything like me, you scream, and cry, and throw things. And then you get an evil thought in the back of your mind. A thought so evil that you don't even understand how that little bit of darkness can belong to you until the entire horrific, dastardly scheme has taken shape within the shadowy recesses of your twisted little brain.

By the time the plan comes together in your mind, your smile would scare pets, the elderly, and small children into having heart attacks and your parents/roommates are seriously considering calling the Whitehouse to tell them you're a terrorist.

To put your plan into action, you find a comfy chair, or lay down on the bed, and close your eyes. You take a little trip to whatever wonderful hidey-hole your Muse has run off to, and when you find the mutinous cretin, your first task is to knock him/her over the head with something large and heavy.

Even if the Muse in question looks unconscious, you hit him/her again, just because you can, and it makes you feel better.

Once you're absolutely sure that your Muse is out cold, you take a pair of those nifty handcuffs the police use-the ones that resemble twisty-ties and are impossible to get out of-then, you truss the Muse up like a pig and drag the rebellious shit back to that dark recess in your mind where you keep all the cool stuff, like whips and razor-wire.

You chain the unconscious Muse to a nifty stone altar and start getting out the beginning supplies: the bamboo slivers and a pair of tweezers.

By the time the Muse wakes up, you're cackling like you're demon-possessed. Don't worry about sounding insane; this is a great instrument of fear all in itself. Your Muse will probably wet themselves hearing it.

After you poke the bamboo slivers into painful places like beneath fingernails and toenails, you move on to the pair of tweezers. This is especially effective if you have a male Muse. I've yet to see a male Muse not scream and beg while having the hairs on his legs yanked out one by one. They usually cry, too.

If you have a female Muse, don't worry. The tweezers will work on just about any kind of body hair. Get creative. She'll scream and beg just as well as her untucked brethren.

After the Muse is sufficiently broken in and frightened, you can set the remaining bamboo slivers and the pair of tweezers aside. That was just the warm up.

Next, you'll need a sharp knife and lemon juice. Salt will work too, if you don't have the juice.

Make small, shallow cuts along your Muse's torso, about the size of paper-cuts. Then, pour on the lemon juice. If your Muse doesn't start screaming immediately, smack them around a bit to get their mind back out of its safe place. The cheater.

By this point, the weaker Muses will offer to help you write anything as long as you make the pain stop. If they cave this early, that's okay. Let them help you out with the most pressing story, then worry about getting a replacement.

For those Muses that don't give in as easily, the next step is even more fun. (For you.)

This requires a Cat O' Nine Tails, a pail of water, and your arms and back to be limber. (Feel free to stretch a little. It adds to the anticipation.)

For this next part, you want to have the Cat O' Nine sufficiently soaked in the water. Warm water generally works best. Pouring a little cold water over your Muse's back helps to intensify the pain, as well, because the cold water will make their skin contract, which means it'll rip more.

Once you think your Cat O' Nine is sufficiently softened, take it out of the pail of warm water and stand about three feet behind your Muse. (Assuming your Cat O' Nine is about three and a half feet long. Depending on its length, you'll want to lengthen or shorten the distance. The idea is to keep half a foot difference.)

The first strike should be more of a tease than anything. You want the Muse to feel it, you want it to sting, but you don't want them to pass out immediately. That ruins your fun.

As you go, make your strikes progressively faster and harder, until you break skin and draw blood. Most Muses have human limitations, so don't give them more than 20 lashes.

If your Muse refuses to capitulate now, you can set the Cat O' Nine aside and move on to the next step.

For this, you'll need to heat a fireplace poker or brand in a nice fire, until the tip glows reddish-white.

Once the metal is hot enough, douse your Muse in cold water again, and then pick a spot of sensitive skin to start on. Stomach, the insides of thighs, and breasts are good places.

Press the poker/brand gently to the skin, being careful to only burn the top layers of skin. You don't want to cause nerve damage, as that might make your Muse go into shock, and you'll have to wait even longer for them to help you write.

At this point, most Muses will be offering their unborn descendants for generations to come into your service if you'll just stop.

For those that refuse to submit, you may want to consider hiring a professional. The Agency I used in the beginning was Sadists, Inc., based out of the 9th level of Hell. If your Muse doesn't cave after your own efforts, you can contact me and I'll supply you with the necessary information to reach Sadists, Inc.