Spanking Theatre

Spanking stories for the theatre between your ears


November 2018

Stories for Sexbots

Here’s a thought-provoking post from the consistently wonderful sex blogger GirlOnTheNet.

In it, she muses on what would it be like to have part of you live on, far away from your
human body, having sexual adventures your real-life self could only
dream of.

As a creator of erotic fantasies, I find that idea intriguing. Currently my dissemination medium of choice is the written word, perhaps one day I’ll create some audio stories. But what if it went further? What if technology advanced to the point where stories could be physically realised? What if the stories we writers create could become part of the software of

Look beyond today’s primitive masturbatory toys, the sexbots of the future will not just be holes to fuck, or dildos to ride. They will be life-like puppets with behaviours as realistic as our ingenuity allows. It does not matter that they are simulations, kinky scenes rarely involve subtle explorations of humanity. Spanking machines already exist, the next generation might just have four limbs and a face.

Which brings us onto software, the creative spark that will breathe life into the machines. Perhaps some would like to download Headmistress Hastings into their robot, a strict disciplinarian with an extensive repetoire of punishments.

Or, for those who prefer to play the spanker, perhaps they’d download Serena to their robot’s mind, and dress her in Regency Era costume. Or go on erotic adventures with the irrepressable Nancy Jones.

Like the Tin Man, machines will never have a heart, or an
imagination of their own, but it’s not too far-fetched to envisage stories becoming software, being made into executable erotic screenplays for
artificial actors to perform.

The march of technology has progressively made stories more real. From scrawls on a cave wall to printed engravings. From grainy photographs to HD video. It seems inevitable we’ll go beyond sight and sound to add touch as well. With artificial intelligence to animate it.

And then, who knows, one day, you might even get to play with mine…

The Strip Search Fantasy

The naughty games are coming back, with a new batch of playtime ideas for adventurous minds!

of the privileges of writing this blog are the messages I receive from
total strangers, some of whom use the anonymity this medium offers to
recount fantasies that even their partners may not know they harbour.
Often these are accompanied by pleas to write a story about their
fetish, because few things are hotter than hearing a private fantasy
from another’s lips.

And one unexpectedly popular fantasy is being strip searched.

many, this might seem excessively weird. After all, no-one really wants
to be strip-searched, do they? A humiliation reserved for suspected
lawbreakers, or convicted prisoners. Surely no-one would willingly want
to be subject to such deprivation? But that would be to misunderstand
the nature of erotic fantasies, often they are not aspirations, but the
eroticising of circumstances that we would horrified to find ourselves
in. A taboo can fuel the hottest erotic fire.

A good example is
the classic classroom spanking fantasy. No-one is seriously suggesting
that school pupils should ever be spanked in real life, but it’s a
universally familiar setting, and one our imaginations can easily
subvert by just a few subtle changes in the game-world’s rules. So
instead of being dutiful students, some like to imagine themselves as
naughty delinquents, and if the teachers were granted the authority to
physically punish – well, now it doesn’t take a huge leap of imagination
to picture oneself sitting in detention on a well-spanked bottom.

with a strip search, most of us would be appalled if it actually
happened to us, but the thought of it happening, and being able to
control and sexualise it, appeals to some enormously. I know many who
don’t consider themselves exhibitionists, yet still secretly harbour powerful intimate
inspection fantasies.

So the first post in the new series of naughty
games describes how to play out a strip search in the privacy of your own home.

Your favourite Naughty Game?


It’s always interesting to see what fantasies and activities are most popular, so here’s all the naughty games I’ve posted, along with their likes. No surprise to see how popular Inspections for Girls has been, it now has over 800 fans…

  1. Inspections for Girls (831 likes)
  2. Squirm (402)
  3. Panty Pulling Chair (307)
  4. Bottom Inspection (293)
  5. Sensations (253)
  6. Dildo Ritual (218)
  7. Clothesline (175)
  8. Ups and Downs (159)
  9. Secret Reading (158)
  10. Words (158)
  11. Throne (129)
  12. Straddle (103)
  13. Naughty Panties (92)
  14. Figging with Ginger (92)
  15. Naked Reading (88)
  16. Spanking Machine (72)
  17. Wet Panties (67)
  18. Fucking on a Train (50)
  19. Drawing Lines (28)

And new series of Naughty Games for Couples has begun, with two new games:

  1. The Hour (90 likes)
  2. Grand Tour (30)

Do explore, and enjoy!

News! I’m working on a new batch of naughty games. Coming soon…

Writing Lines

Writing lines.

Writing lines.

Writing lines.

Lines enough until your tendons ache

Until your throbbing muscles quake

And your haughty brattiness starts to break

Writing lines upon a cold hard stool

In your old uniform feeling quite the fool

You didn’t think I’d be so cruel

To recreate a scene from school

Where better to learn the golden rule

Writing as your pussy drools

I dictated the first line before I left

First eagerly scribbled with a tingling cleft

Only now you realise your labours’ heft

Nib scrawling dutifully across the page

As each line begins to take an age

On a silly little desk just like a cage

I deserve a good hard spanking on my bare bottom

I deserve a good hard spanking on my bare bottom

I deserve a good hard spanking on my bare bottom

Again and again and again and again

With each line echoing inside your brain

Wondering if I’ve gone to fetch the cane

Imagining the searing whacky stingy pain

The wait could drive a girl insane

Yet somehow never quite complain 

I deserve a good hard spanking on my bare bottom

I deserve a good hard spanking on my bare bottom

I deserve a good hard spanking on my bare bottom

Yes, I want you to sit in silent grind

Pushing all else from your noisy mind

You’ll come to realise my discipline is kind

Why I wait until you’re quite resigned

In a scene so carefully refined

Everything as I’ve designed

All alone with the scratchy scrabble of your pen

As an achy moistness seeps and soaks,

And then

I return

To see your tired slouch instantly transform

An attentive pupil with a straightened back

How manners improve before a thwack

Blushing pink so radiantly

You offer your page obsequiously

Your fate now fixed in cursive swirls

Yes, young lady

You do deserve a good hard spanking

A good hard spanking on your bare little bottom

Stand up.

Come here.

Look at me.


Bend over.

I am going to lift your skirt

And pull your clammy panties down

I trust there won’t even be a frown

Instead I’ll see your pretty pink lips agape

Glistening like a little mouth surprised

Yet you know exactly what’s to come

A single phrase that must be done

Please Sir

You admit unbidden

I deserve

A good hard spanking

On my bare bottom

spankingtheatre 2018

Unexplored Blank Spaces


I wrote the story Inevitable with an almost philosophical question in mind: would we want our inner sexual desires fulfilled, even if we didn’t quite consciously know what they really were?

In the story, there’s no questionnaires – partly because the Sexcapade institution doesn’t trust its clients to answer honestly, and partly because it doesn’t believe its clients actually know what they want. So like any good scientist, the orchestrating AI forms hypotheses, puts them to the test, and observes the results as the clients play.

I think we’re all like old maps, with familiar territories of experience, strange hinterlands and unexplored blank spaces of desire and fantasy. And we know somewhere, There Be Dragons. It might take a lifetime to explore.

As we accumulate more sexual confidence we begin to voyage to these far-flung lands. Perhaps these stories encourage your explorations, like a glossy coffee-table book of exotic foreign realms.

I wonder, where’s the next blank space on your erotic map you plan to explore?

I read a story here a while back about someone who met a sir in a coffee shop and he gave her a number to call and she ended up getting a tattoo?? I loved it but can’t find it. Do you know the one?

I’m afraid that’s not one of my stories.

If you’re looking for a particular setting, you can find a full list of them here with a short sentence about each.

So whilst I can’t provide a tale of a coffee shop seduction, you might like to imagine the events of The Booth occur after such an encounter.

Or how about the meeting of mischeivous minds of Sandalwood and Ginger?

You might discover a brand new favourite…

I did your panty pulling chair ‘game’ the other day. I added to it with some shibari and a ginger plug. It burned so good, and I touched myself, but I stopped myself before I could come. Do I deserve a spanking?

I’d say such meticulous planning and self-control deserves reward, rather than punishment.

Naughty girls shouldn’t be climaxing as their panties are pulled, can you ever imagine their disciplinarian permitting such indulgence? Of course not. Such a minx would definitely earn herself a long hard spanking, gaining a smarting pink cheeks to match the sore hot stripe between her legs. She’d be sent to bed with a towel tied to her crotch beneath her pyjamas, to keep her mischievous fingers at bay.

But those who demonstrate they can control themselves – they’d deserve a special treat afterwards. A cooling cream rubbed into their stripe as they slowly inspect themselves. Rubbing as they wiggle the plug that still fills their bottom. Slowly, slowly, slowly, rubbing all the way to the edge and beyond… 

Origin Story

I started this blog because I’d written some spanking stories for the private amusement of myself and some play partners long ago. I had greatly enjoyed creating them, and it had seemed a shame to keep them to myself. After all, stories die without readers to imagine them. 

So I created this blog, originally as a place to post erotic screenplays that could be rendered in the strange distant theatre that dwelt between each faraway strangers’ ears.

And then, in free moments and dark nights, I began writing new ones.

Over time, the stories began to grow in length, and develop in style, complexity and sophistication. Readers began to follow me, and share what I’d scribbled. Some even wrote back, to tell me how much joy the stories had brought them.

And given these are erotic stories, it does not require much imagination to realise what kind of joy was being experienced. An intense, gasp-inducing, physical form of joy. Over the years, these stories must have inspired tens of thousands of orgasms, a realisation that brings me considerable satisfaction.

Yet as life has got busier in recent years, my opportunities for writing have diminished. But when I do write, I still get the same buzz of I’ve always done, the visceral thrill of conjuring new worlds, of summoning new fantasies, of spinning words and sexuality into an evocative golden braid.

So, to all those who’ve supported and encouraged my writing with over the years, I hope you know I consider you the most wonderful souls. To those who’ve inevitably drifted away, know that I miss your voices, and hope your lives are filled with happiness. And that also you’re getting your bare bottoms spanked on a regular basis.

And to those who return to reread the contents of this illicit little library, I shall always be honoured and humbled by your presence.

Your joy is my joy, and you’ve made me very happy indeed.

Election Day



I always vote.

When duty calls, I never decline.

But how naughty it felt to cross the threshold of the polling station, smuggling such a sordid item into this most sacred space. This church hall. This temporary temple of democracy.

And then to stand in the short queue I as waited to confirm my name. The clerk said it out loud, as if he knew exactly who I was. Even though he couldn’t have known what I was hiding, he made me feel notorious.

I flirtatiously fiddle with the hem of my skirt, and coyly accept the ballot paper he hands to me. I let it flap in my hand like a suitor’s handkerchief.

He points towards the row of booths against the wall, their cheap curtains limp like an ersatz peep show. I saunter towards them, sashaying conspicuously, a walking blasphemy along the line of pews.

I choose the empty booth in the corner, and pull the curtain fully closed behind me. Just me and my sacred ballot, hidden from any eyes that might pry.

The booth has a little low table to write on, conveniently about waist height, I set my phone down, aiming its camera towards me, and press its screen to start recording. There had been a sign on the wall as I entered: No Photography. But what goes on in the sanctity of the voting booth is none of their business. And I don’t keep secrets from Sir.

I lift my skirt.

Oh Sir. I’m so sorry.

In my haste to do my democratic duty, I must have completely forgotten to put on any underwear…

I spin around and lift my skirt again.

Spreading my legs so there can be no doubt.

In this dim alcove I wonder if there’s enough light to allow it to sparkle.

Oh Sir. How naughty of me! 

To go out to vote wearing my princess plug…

Keep reading

This is indeed an inspirational little story. Go out and vote, ladies!

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