In an exclusive invitation-only night club in The Hague, couples sit back smoking hash and grass, drinking wine and cognac as the curtain parts on a tiny stage lit only by one baby spot.
As the light is slowly turned up, the outlines of a couple become clear, the young, athletic man dressed in black tie, the fabulous woman, veiled in white, her dancer's legs heavily muscled, torso rippling with the discipline of her calling, is sitting slumped under the crossed sticks of a marionette's control mechanism that is held over her head by the young man.With a tug, he summons her to her feet, which she accomplishes with grace by gathering her long legs and feet shod in heels under her and rising straightway to her erect posture.
He guides her this way and that, making her prance, her arms guided by the strings in a mechanical way.
Suddenly, she becomes agitated. She throws off the controlling strings, bats the crossed sticks from his hand, rips off the veil to reveal a closely cropped cap of curly hair, strips herself of a loose gown, kicks off the heels and stands proudly naked before him, pugnaciously poised with the weight on her left foot, her right arched to push off and attack, all the weight on her toes.
Slowly, she walks around him three times, surveying him from his scalp to his heels, then stops before him to regard him with an eye-level gaze. She helps him out of his jacket and throws it to the floor.
She unties the knot in his bow tie, drapes it loosely around her neck, takes the studs from his shirt front and places them in his outstretched palm, rips his shirt down from the back trapping his arms, unbuckles his pants and waits impatiently while he kicks off his shoes and steps out of them. Then she reaches into an interior pocket of the jacket and withdraws a wicked looking razor-sharp dagger with which she cuts off his shorts.
His erection pops up, bobbing, something she frankly inspects as if it's on display in a butcher shop. Grasping it, pulling him closer, she drops the blade on his pile of clothes, brushes his lips with hers, then captures his neck with the bow tie and pulls him down to his knees before her, turning her back on him.
The crowd strains forward in their seats as he strains forward with alacrity to kiss her ass on alternating cheeks which she has made rock hard by contracting the muscle, standing on the corresponding leg. She strides back and forth mimicking the gait of a long-limbed water fowl of exotic plumage.
A row of blue spots bathes the stage now as they both wrestle in slow motion, alternately pinning one another and assuming positions of dominance as they simulate fucking, first he, then she, their faces contorted with faux exertion.
After one particularly showy climax, he rolls into a reclining position with his forearm across his eyes. She lashes him with the bow tie as he begins to twist and writhe. Finally, as he comes back to his knees, he is stricken by a final spasm that renders him seemingly unconscious. He falls to a prone position and she curtsies before the crowd.
The curtains are drawn and the house lights come up once again as waitresses pass among the tables with trays to take away the empty glasses and take orders for fresh drinks.
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