Good friends are often hard to come by. When you find a friend who is willing to help you achieve your goals and dreams, that’s very special. I have a friend who helps me fulfill my cravings to be punished. Did I do anything to deserve it? Maybe. Does being naughty count? Maybe. Doesn’t really matter, does it? If I want it, need it, I deserve to be punished. And when the friend is creative, like @spankingtheatre is, then they find helpful ways to work around my no touch denial. Sir was kind enough to help me out.
Imagine, if you will, a chair. It’s a hard wooden chair, with a high back. Something you’d see in a farmhouse style house. Clean lines and simple design. Now imagine that chair has a book upon it. It’s a good sized book, a thick volume. And upon that book are two stacked pillow, chosen for their height and plushness.
A girl like me, one who feels like a naughty, undisciplined, and troublesome girl, sits on the pillows in her panties. Now, these aren’t ordinary panties, my friends. No siree. These are special. These panties are punishment panties. Now you might be asking, “Little Miss? What are punishment panties?” I’m glad you asked.
Punishment panties are what naughty girls wear when they are about to be strung up to hang by them.
A girl like me, one who feels like a rude, perverse, wayward little girl will sit on the pillows, bring a rope up both sides of the waist band of the back of her panties, and tie them to the back of the hard wooden chair. And she waits until she is instructed to remove one pillow. Her weight will pull her downward, but her panties have nowhere to go. So they will go up her bottom and up her slit. And they will begin to feel sore and tight. She will sit there feeling quite contrite as she begins to squirm to try to release some of the pressure, but nothing will budge. Are you picturing it? Cruel but effective.
So I sat there, squirming, but trying to get some work done to refocus my mind. I felt penitent, but for what? Again, it didn’t matter, because I was enjoying feeling punished. The strangest part is when my clit began to throb, begging for attention. This was when the real punishment began. As if Sir knew it would happen, I was beginning to feel very very aroused without any outlet to touch myself. I was essentially hanging there, so there would be absolutely no moving and grinding against something. And he knew as well as I that I am trying out this no touch denial thing, so my hands were above the desk I sat at, clenching and unclenching to somehow give my mind a new focus. I was teased by him, as he suggested leaving me there to dangle as he went off to do something else, which had my clit pounding, feeling aroused by being spoken to this way.
When I thought that my sore body was finally adjusting, then kind, sadistic Sir had me remove pillow #2. And I sank down… I started to breath quickly, realizing my body was a bit rigid in an attempt to somehow alleviate the pressure. It hurt, beautifully. And I realized I shouldn’t shy away from this hurt, because I sure as hell couldn’t indulge in the pleasure. And I so dearly wanted to indulge, as I was aching to touch. So I let myself sit further down onto the book, my last little booster. I was ready to let myself adjust with this new lower position, to find a way to cope with it for as long as the first wait, but Sir did not like me sitting on a book. He scolded, “That’s no way to treat books, young lady! Remove it.”
If I thought that I had reached the limit of the pain, I was mistaken. This last drop down had me yelping as it began really tugging the front of my panties backwards now. I was sore and yet still throbbing in need, yet the pull of the panties didn’t feel good no matter how tight they were. I knew I would be marked up, my skin colored and creased. I tried my best to find enjoyment in the pain. Sometimes, when I focused on something else, I was able to forget that it was there. The soreness that was almost numbing. But soon Sir instructed me to release myself and show him his handiwork. I found that I was disappointed that it had ended so soon, but I felt good knowing I had a new fun way to play with pain.
Read about making your own panty-pulling chair here!
One of the great pleasures of running this blog has been getting to know wonderful individuals, and helping realise their long-cherished disciplinary dreams. There’s nothing more tragic than a highly sensual mind who craves the sensations of spanking and punishment, yet lacks the play partner to make vivid fantasies come true.
The original Punishment Panties story (and its sequel, The Sit-Down Dance) seems to have introduced many to arousing possibilities of erotic panty-pulling. Readers of this, @littlemisssubshine‘s evocative description of her very first sit-down dance, might well feel the desire to pull their own panties up a little tighter…