Insex Archives

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Saturation. That’s what I crave. I remember a day a long time ago. I was a little girl playing by myself. The shine off the lake blinded. The catcalls of the crows echoed through the trees. I heard a sound in the woods. A shuffling of leaves. And voices, hushed. So I snuck close, tucking myself into a thicket of elderberry. I didn’t know the man or the lady, but he’d tied her face first to a tree. She was naked.

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InsexArchives>In a room full of crew members, other Insex models and viewers anxiously awaiting my show, I felt completely alone atop the barrel as PD tied the second and final knot of the cloth around my face. When PD took away my sight the room went silent; there was no show. I was in a dark room alone, insignificant and forgotten.

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Trailings is a compilation of slices, brief views as though through a window. The focus is bondage. The medium is flesh. The first is bound in a hogtie, still clothed in jeans, sneakers and tight top. The ankles keep tension on a rope that is wound about her neck. She struggles, growing pale as time passes. A pulley is lowered. The rope that attaches her ankles to her neck is raised, creating a curved bow to her body and a faint blue about her eyes and mouth.

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