Unknown Hands Unrecognisable Voices.

Unknown hands and unrecognisable voices all around as I bound to a St Andrews cross, dressed in a fishnet body stocking and latex hood.

Touched by unseen, unknown hands, unrecognisable voices discussing me. Fingers touching, tracing, tormenting.

“Humiliate yourself” he tasked, “Physically. Don’t use your voice this time.” Using my voice immediately flicks the shame switch, but he wanted something different this time. And so I got to work. It took some organising, what with the venue, safety and equipment to consider. Butt with the help of a wonderful studio owner, ever patient friends and strangers I was able to pull it off.

Was this moment embarrassing? Did it stoke the fires of desire in the way being truly humiliated always seems to? Or did something else trump this? What happened when the crowds disappeared? And when the faces had seen and spoken to me in this state were revealed, did I know anyone?

I’m afraid to say this is a story for another time, for now you’ll just have to imagine the scene unfolding in your imagination. You’ll have to come back at a later date for more details on this evening.

February Photofest 2022

Unknown hands, unrecognisable voices is my first post for A Little help From My Friends week. The third theme for February Photo Fest 2022.

2022 is my third time participating in February Photo Fest. February Photo Fest 2019 was my first, with my second being February Photo Fest 2021.

9 comments

    1. I need to get on with telling tales, don’t I. Its a shame there’s so much groundwork to be written first. (Now I’m cursing myself for having so many adventures!)

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