He remembers well the first time he encountered the art work that led him to this present moment.
It is, he's always thought, essentially a still-life landscape of a tree on the bank of a small river. The water flows over and around a number of rocks, and one of the tree's main limbs juts out,. perhaps six or eight feet over the flowing liquid. A beautiful naked woman, quite alive and well, but perfectly still and utterly tranquil, is suspended horizontally from the tree limb by a network of ropes.
He's awestruck by the serenity of the scene. Her long, black hair hangs straight down, almost touching the surface of the river. The photographer's choice of a long shutter speed, maybe five seconds, transforms the discrete pattern of the water swirling angrily around the rocks into a surreal mist of dreamlike, foggy, foam. The lens' small aperture provides extreme depth of field that results in every other aspect of the image being rendered with the greatest sharpness on the 16 by 20 black and white print, especially the intricacy of the ropes with their perfectly executed knot work. The woman's skin has an almost radiant glow that makes it stand out in relief from the rest of the composition. He's enough of a photographer to know that this was not some small-format digital image. No, a view camera with at least a 4 by 5 negative was involved here; maybe even an 8 by 10.
He knows that great patience was needed to wait for a day where the woman's hair would not be moved about by even the smallest hint of a breeze and that she'd had to hold her breath for the entire exposure time in order to eliminate blurring. Even the time of day was taken into account to allow the perfect combination of light and shadow to accentuate her nude form.
Even after two years of living with this picture, he's still not sure how it was accomplished. How had the model been hoisted there? Did she lie prone on some kind of scaffold until the roping had been completed, and then the scaffold was removed for the photo? He has no clue. But he knows how arduous was the effort that went into this. And he knows how greatly its result obsesses him.
He's discovered that it's an example of an artistic form of Japanese bondage called shibari, sometimes more traditionally known as kinbaku. And today he intends to move from passive appreciation of shibari to active participation and more, which is why he and his woman are walking down this deserted dirt road loaded down with paraphernalia.
Presently, they arrive at a one-room wooden building, maybe an old, abandoned schoolhouse. The window glass is long gone, but the building itself is still structurally sound despite its weathered appearance. This isn't his first time here. He's visited on several occasions, scouting the location, bringing things, and preparing the old structure they arrive at for its present use. On his last visit, he brought a cordless drill and installed a line of eye bolts in the ceiling beams and tested them for their load bearing capacity. He swept the floor and checked for activity on the security cameras he'd installed. Nobody's been here in months, which more than suits his purposes. It's quiet, and he keeps it that way.
Now they are both inside, and she undresses completely to reveal baby soft skin that is perfectly free of tanning lines. Not a word is spoken. He kisses her and affectionately caresses her breasts and bottom, and then she sits on the small stool while he unpacks coils of rope. One is threaded through the first of the eye bolts and is brought down to her shoulders where its length is matched against the other end and then knotted at the eye bolt. She stretches out her arms, and he has her hold behind her head a length of thick bamboo that reaches from one hand to the other. Carefully, slowly, lovingly, starting at her underarms, he laces the ropes around and around until they reach her hands. He ties ornamental knots at each hand and then passes the ropes back up and secures them to the same eye bolt. Her upper body is now securely bound, and her arms are about four feet above floor level. Although there are only four points of suspension between her and the eye bolt, the bamboo and the way the rope is threaded serve to distribute her weight evenly.
Next, another rope is passed through the far eye bolt and used to tie her ankles to another length of bamboo designed to keep her legs apart. A third rope is brought down and passes under the small of her back to take most of the weight from her ankle ties. Two more ropes loop under her back, the first just below her breasts and the second halfway between the first and the rope near her hips. All of this takes a great deal of time because of the careful knot work he's doing.
At this point, she is suspended from the eye bolts with only her head unsupported. He brushes her long hair and gathers it together. He crosses it with a last piece of rope and folds the hair back, tying a hitch into the rope, then forming the rope into a coil that secures the hair. The other end of the rope goes up through the eye bolt and is tied off.
She is now completely bound.
Removing the stool, he stands back to critique his work. To a casual observer, it would perhaps appear that she's being tortured, but the reality is quite the opposite. In fact, she is completely comfortable and at peace. She feels more free than she's ever felt before. She has given herself to him totally and has no decisions to fret about. She can just BE.
The height at which she is suspended is chosen to provide him with perfect access to her genitalia while he sits on the stool. He closes his eyes and uses his mouth and tongue to bring her to orgasm after orgasm while she floats serenely in the air. He knows just how long to wait after she comes before beginning to serve her once again. She is beside herself in ecstasy and a sense of endlessness, and she's loud in her passion. She's never been taken like this, never been loved like this, ever before. She asks about him. He tells her, the first time he's spoken since they arrived, that this is for her and that she ought not be concerned with his release here and now. Not that she'd be capable of serving him after this scene anyway.
Finally, he fetches his camera gear and takes his shots.
After some hours, she is taken down. She is exhausted, and he carries her back down the deserted dirt road to their normal life. The camera gear goes with them. The rest, he'll get another time.
He thinks that perhaps his photographs won't equal the one that has inspired him to do all this. But, then again, he's had experiences today that have made fantasies come true. And she has learned that bondage can be a liberating and comforting experience as well as a confining and anxious one.
