A CASE OF BDSM
INTRODUCTION
If you, dear reader, have come here expecting a page-turner, I have to apologise. A page-turner this is not. It is hardly a story. Perhaps the below is closer to poetry, not everyone's cup of tea. Like poetry, it is an exercise in imagination. If this makes you leave, I will respect this.
Here is the deal.
I will describe sixteen colour photographs. They cover an event that did in fact happen, in 1998. I will describe them in great detail. The images centre around a young woman, somewhere in her twenties. There is man in a supporting role and a dozen characters that make appearances. Some are merely extras.
The event is one of great emotion to the woman.
Your role as a reader is a bit like that of a detective, whose task it is to make sense of given information. You put yourself in a position to feel and interpret what the matter is. As you advance from photo to photo the plot will thicken and you will sense you have figured it out. But have you? Do you have a solid idea of what the woman felt? Did she have a choice? If so, what drives the woman to go and experience what she did? What about the man in the supporting role? If he did all that to her, why? The others? Why did they do what they did? The bystanders, why did they not act?
In an afterword, I will give you some more details of what has gone on and what I had to do with it. And why I didn't give you the photographs in the first place.
Picture no. 1 -- in portrait format
We see a woman. A young woman. She is standing in the centre of a large, brightly lit room. The only living soul, so it seems - but there's the photographer too. The floor is grey and bare and polished. We see a backwall, adorned with three modern art pieces. The wall is some ten to twelve meter further behind and the pictures are hard to evaluate. But it feels safe to say that the large room is a gallery space. So, the woman is standing in the centre of a gallery space. At her feet, we see a pair of scissors and over a dozen clothespins.
The woman then. We'd be most interested in her, wouldn't we? She is presented to us, showing from head to foot. She wears a pair of patent leather black heels and a simple black cotton dress, fairly short, but not exactly mini, with short sleeves and a fairly high neckline -- no cleavage visible. All in all, an unremarkable black dress. At stomach level, the dress shows the words CUT PIECE, two words, each on a separate line. They are crudely hand-painted on in yellow capitals. She does not wear stockings -- her legs are bare. The gloss on her legs suggests they are smooth and recently shaved.
Her arms cross behind her back. We see the fingers of her left hand just appearing from behind the small of her back (her right side, before you get confused), at the same level as the words CUT PIECE. The hands behind her back make her look vulnerable, defenceless.
The woman's vulnerability is enhanced by three other defining features. Firstly, her ankles are enveloped by leather straps. The two straps are linked by two metal eyes, thus closely linking the feet. The separation is five to ten cm, so she would have great difficulty walking without falling over. She may shuffle at best. Secondly, she wears a leather collar around her neck, with a couple of protruding D-rings. Lastly, but not least, her mouth is taped shut by gaffer tape.
We can't say much about her body yet. The dress obscures rather than enhances it. Her legs can be seen, are nice enough, but not remarkable, not 'thin.' 'Normal', we could say. Same for her arms. But don't get us wrong. The dress does not help defining it and we cannot say much.
But is she attractive? Certainly. This is attributable to what we haven't talked about yet, her most telling part: her head, her face. She looks directly at the camera, judging by the one blue eye we see. The other eye is hidden behind a lock of hair; her hair is mid-blond and a touch dishevelled, but in an attractive, carefree manner. Her gaze is hard to judge. One thing for certain is that she is not smiling. How could she, with her mouth taped shut? But whether she is composed or nervous? My money is on nervous, but maybe I am projecting.
Has she consented to being here like this? Was she free to not consent? Not sure.
We estimate her age as second-half twenties. Could be mid-twenties, who knows?
Let's waste no time and consult the second image.
Picture no. 2 -- in portrait format.
Here it comes.
We see the same room, but from a different vantage point. Lower, in particular. We see the beams of the ceiling, suggestive of an industrial building. We see a rucksack in the background now, on the floor next to a chair, the back of which doubles as a coat hanger. The woman is no longer alone. She shares centre-stage with a man. They both face the camera, though slightly turned to each other and not looking at the camera. She stands on our left, he on our right. The man wears a black T-shirt with the website address of a pornsite, and black jeans complete with belt. The legs of his jeans appear to hide shafts of boots. He is two or three decades older than she is, judging by a hairline that has receded far; his hair is long, combed back and brownish-grey. He wears a grey goatee and a shaded pair of glasses. He is trim. The woman's arms are in the same position as before, so we offer the hypothesis that they are bound, just like her ankles.
The pair of them are involved in an action. That is, in his left hand he holds the pair of scissors that we saw on the floor in the previous picture, now positioned near her chest, her left breast specifically. His right hand is near there too, but the picture is blurry here -- he must have moved during the exposure time of the picture. The clothespins are still at her feet.
Their faces... He is intent on his work with the scissors. She looks down at what he is doing. She looks taken aback or embarrassed, or maybe just tentative, cautious, uncertain of what is going on -- we cannot see her eyes very clearly.
Indeed, we are as yet uncertain what precisely he is doing.
Picture no. 3 -- in portrait format
