The caw of crows and fluttering of wings broke the silence and echoed eerily through the roofless abandoned factory. It was such a perfect sound it was as if it had been scripted for a motion picture. The four of us stared in silence at the girl tied to the massive steel wheel of the ancient machine. Her red ball gag and concerned eyes were the focus of my attention, but her outstretched limbs held by ropes lashed to the wheel drew lustfully appreciative glances as well. And then something unusual happened…………
Jade was in the middle of a scenario designed and constructed by the sometimes aptly named Mr Ogre, a friend and photographer.
Anyone who knows us is aware that I enjoy loaning Jade out. We both love the uncertainty and excitement of such encounters and quite frankly, it touches one of my hot buttons. But more than that, we have come to love and appreciate the innovation that it brings to our experience. And, OK, we enjoy corrupting others into our way of life and giving them a vehicle for their own particular form of perversion.
True to form, this was different. I tend to be less than adventurous when out in public, and I probably would have never ventured into the massive abandoned factory on my own. But more unusual for me was his pacing and style.
Being a rope guy myself I appreciated the secure, but comfortable, lashings that held her to the massive wheel. It was visually appealing and at the same time threatening. We were filming it for video and, as is his style, we were in the middle of a long continuous take in which he had abandoned her and left her to hang. We all stood there in silence and stared. Nothing but the haunting noises of the abandoned building and its ghosts to fill the gaps.
At first I had this nearly irresistible urge to go up and DO something to her. Anything. Undo her bra. Clamp a nipple. Whip her with the short dragon tail I had for just such a purpose. Assault her crotch with a hand, or a crop, or something. Were it not for the continuing video, I perhaps would have suggested such a thing. But it was, after all, not my shoot, and the camera rolled on. After I time I became unnerved. What next? Will she get bored? Will the ropes start to hurt? Will we be discovered? But then I really started getting into the uncertainty of it all. What was she thinking? What was everyone else thinking? Where could this go?
I have engaged in time stealing scenes before. Locking a girl in a cage, a ride on the wooden pony, a tether chain locked on an ankle. But I am always the one that ends the scene. None has really reached a conclusion dictated by circumstances or the needs of the captive. It is I that have accelerated things, added that extra component to hasten the conclusion, or just ended it for no real reason at all. Perhaps I worry that my victim might become bored. Perhaps I worry too much about safety? Or dinner. Perhaps it is part of the continuing guilt I feel when I waste my own time that makes me so hesitant to a steal the time belonging to someone else.
I continued to watch Jade suffer. She does it so well.
The crows screeched again. I don’t know what it was, but this scene of the girl in the abandoned factory stimulated my imagination. In fact after it was over we both talked about it for hours. What would it have been like if it had gone on for another fifteen minutes, an hour, two hours? All day? Wouldn’t it be interesting to find out? I need to let some scenes play out. To give them some time.