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Spanking Theatre

Spanking stories for the theatre between your ears

Month

December 2018

The Detention Desk

Sometimes a young lady finds herself alone in detention.

Her panties have been pulled down and confiscated into her disciplinarian’s pocket. And now she must sit on her bare bottom and write her lines, knowing that when her teacher returns, she’ll be bent over the very desk she’s writing on. Her skirt will be lifted, and she’ll get a good hard spanking on her bare bottom.

Spanked on the bare bottom. How embarrassing! And yet also, exciting.

Her concentration wavers, her grip on her pen trembles, and her bare slit tingles. She thinks: teacher has been so thrillingly strict. And what a naughty girl I’ve been. How aroused that combination makes her feel.

She abandons her assignment, standing to address the desk. The cool varnished wood of the edge of the table glancing against her smooth bare mound. She gyrates her hips, slowly at first, altering her stance so it becomes a teasing pressure on her clit.

She should stop now. Sit back on her seat and complete her lines. But she can not. Soon her disciplinarian will return and she will get her bottom whacked. She imagines what would happen if they walked in right now, as she ground herself against the desk. But that just makes her want it even more.

She craves a longer, firmer pressure, and lifts one leg until she’s straddling the desk. Now the edge of the table runs along her slit, soon slick and sticky with her juices. Her clit rubbed exquisitely on every forward thrust. The perfect rail for her little groove.

In 48 seconds time, the door will open, and this is the position she’ll be caught in. She’ll be told: stay right where you are.

This is the position she’ll be spanked in. Her clit sliding along the slick edge as she recoils with every stinging whack.

And by the end, this is the position in which she’ll come.

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spankingtheatre:

New readers might be interested in this master list of all my stories, ranked by popularity. The up arrows indicate stories that have moved up the leaderboard, whilst new icons show stories that you might not have encountered yet.

The pumpkins are beside Halloween stories. You can also see this list categorised by theme if you’re looking for a particular style of story. 

Give a shout-out to your favourites!

The master library catalogue has been updated with the new stories…

The Naughtiest Thing

A spanking story for the new year

image

We – my closest, most intimate friends, have a little New Year’s Eve tradition.

Whilst others gather in loud, gaudy parties, we assemble for a quiet night in. Just us, no partners. As midnight approaches, we dim the lights and take turns to tell stories. It began when we were still at school, as a simple retelling of the most enjoyable experiences of our past twelve months. But as we’ve all become more worldly-wise, the salaciousness of our ritual has escalated, until now it’s a time to confess to each other The Naughtiest Thing we did last year.

We play for higher stakes now too. We four friends sit pantyless in a circle, holding our favourite dildos beneath our best party frocks, drawing lots to determine the order of when we tell our stories. The jeopardy is simple: if any of our stories make any one of our friends climax, the storyteller earns the right to demand the offender pays a forfeit. Traditionally, spankings have been popular forfeits, the loser seeing in the new year naked, facing the wall with their pink bottom on display. But we’re getting increasingly creative too.

This year, the topic is more provocative still.

What’s The Naughtiest Thing you’ve ever done?

And now, it’s my turn to speak.

The Naughtiest Thing I’ve ever done… I announce solemnly, my gaze roving across my friends’ expectant eyes… was when I was 19, and I brought my first boyfriend home.

I paused for effect, letting assumptions paint themselves within my audience’s minds. Scenes assembled from the palettes of their own experiences. I knew each and every one had all been just as naughty as me.

Though actually, as it happened, my tale did not take place in my childhood home. My dad’s eldest sister lived closer to where my boyfriend and I went to university, and so I decided we’d visit and stay for the weekend. My aunt is quite a presence, I think he was quite intimidated when I introduced them both, when she looked him right in eyes and told him in no uncertain terms, that she hoped he’d behave himself in her home. He looked at his shoes and stammered like a guilty little boy. And inside, I giggled.

The next day, as my aunt attended to domestic chores, I lead my boy out into the large garden. It was a beautifully warm late Spring day, and I led the way to the sun terrace, hidden from the house by a tunnel of overgrown pergolas. Shall we bask in the sun? I asked him, before lifting my dress to reveal my skimpiest bikini underneath. His eyes widened even more dramatically when I asked him if he’d like to put his hand inside and feel my breasts. He nodded vigorously, but I made him take off his own clothes first, stripping down to his own underwear.

I let him cup me with his right hand, then asked if he’d like me to take everything off. When he said yes, I insisted he went first. He pulled down his boxer shorts and I followed suit, so we were now standing in front of each other naked.

It was so thrilling, so illicit. My slit was so tingly and wet, I couldn’t keep my eyes off his rapidly swelling cock. His hands slipped down my body, as if pulled by a magnet hidden in my crotch. I felt his hot fingers cup my cunt. I felt the world around me fade into irrelevance, like everything around us was a rather mediocre memory.

But no matter how wonderful the experience, one must always remember it is simply a bubble in a world that moves to its own rules. When you’re distracted, others make their own moves, and sometimes your little sanctuary is interrupted. Moments later, as he massaged my moistening lips with his fingertips, my aunt caught us…

My aunt’s initial expression was one of extreme surprise, before her familiar strict mask dropped down her face. From that fleeting moment of shock, her sternest frown emerged.

You know what happens to naughty girls in this house, she told me.

For one horrible moment, I feared her statement meant that I alone was being held culpable, that all my careful planning had been for nothing. But then we were both told to go to The Room, and wait there “for punishment”. We weren’t even allowed to gather up our clothes, so had to hurry into the house still naked.

What kind of punishment? he whispered plaintively as we climbed the stairs, his cock now flaccid, his hands shyly covering his crotch.

Why a spanking, of course, I told him. On our bare bottoms. We’re each going to get a good hard spanking on our bare bottoms until they’re pink and sore. That’s what happens to naughty girls and boys here. He looked at me with mouth agape, waiting for me to say, only joking! Except I wasn’t.

I led the way to one of the guest bedrooms, which was innocuous enough that I could see the anxiety in my boyfriend’s eyes transform into smirking expectation as soon as he saw the double bed that occupied the centre of the room. As if my aunt’s threat was suddenly forgotten, and the actual reality was that he was being led (naked) by his (also completely naked) girlfriend towards a big soft bed. Where she would clearly lie back and spread her legs wide, and beg him to put his big hard dick into her juicy cunt.

That was because he didn’t know what happened here. I’d been punished here several times, usually alone, but a couple of times I’d had my sister for company. Auntie would sit on the bed, and put us across her knee. And had we just waited, that would have been our fate. But I had something much more radical in mind.

The large bed here was at first glance, rather ordinary. It was covered with a plump ivory duvet, with matching pillows near the wooden beams that comprised its headboard. But on closer examination, unusual features revealed themselves, for a start, it wasn’t pushed against any of the walls, meaning you could walk all the way around it.

Then there were the silvery bedknobs glinting in each corner of the frame: four egg-shaped stainless steel protrusions. They were a late addition to what had been a simple unadorned short-posted bedstead. They were actually buttplugs, with holes drilled in their bases, which had allowed them to be screwed firmly into the wooden posts beneath.

That was what I so admired about my aunt, she was the kind of lady who’d think: you know what this bed could really do with? Buttplugs in each corner. And then get the tools out and do it.

I fetched the pot of lube that was sitting brazenly on the shelf, another sign this room wasn’t quite what it seemed, and began applying it to the two knobs at the bottom of the bedstead.

I took my boy’s hand and led to a corner of the bed, telling him to rise up on his tiptoes and straddle the knob. I guided him so the tip of the knob rested against his cute little bum hole, and warned him to stay there, before encouraging him to sink down until it began to enter his bottom. I must confess, watching his tight little hole stretch was quite thrilling. When he was properly impaled, I straddled the knob beside him, and allowed myself to sink down too. Soon it was stretching my bum open too.

As we stood there waiting, I told him my aunt would be inspecting us when she arrived, and so he should pull his foreskin back so she could conduct a proper examination of his penis. With his bottom filled, he was much more compliant, and he did as he was told. Soon his cute dick had stiffened to the point where his helmet bulged. My aunt wasn’t really going to inspect him, I was just curious, and wanted to see every detail of his cock close up for myself.

The combination of the bedknob in his bum and his foreskin pulled back made him very hard indeed. I could see its veins bulge, and a clear fluid dripping from the tip. I gave my own swollen clit a few hard rubs before instructing him to follow my lead as I put my hands upon my head. Then we waited in nervous silence for Hurricane Auntie to blow in, and punish us.

Eventually, we heard approaching footsteps. My aunt appeared with a thick leather tawse, split at the tip into two sawtooth strips. Her purposeful stride halted immediately when she saw us straddling the bedknobs. I’m sure I saw a little smile flash across her face. But she said nothing, she didn’t even lecture us. Instead she just took up a position between us, feet spread apart in a classic power stance, and ran the fronds of the strap down our bare cheeks, just to check we were both in range.

My aunt twisted at her hips, swivelling her arm backwards before swinging back in one fluid motion to deliver a stinging whack to my boyfriend’s bottom, one so loud it made my ears ring and my pussy tremble. He yelped with the pain, I doubt he’d ever been spanked before.

She twisted and whacked him five more times with her forehand swing, covering his poor bottom with pink splotches. Then without moving her feet, she swivelled her hips to address me, giving me six smacks with her backhand.

Auntie was an excellent tennis player, self-disciplined, focussed, strong-wristed and unerringly accurate. I always loved watching Wimbledon, imagining what an expert spankers each player would make, how each might lift my skimpy white skirt, tug my snow white panties down, and demonstrate their exceptional timing and technique.

Her leather strap imparted a terrible sting, each whack echoing deep inside me through the knob I’d so disgracefully impaled myself on. But I was so aroused, I barely felt the pain.

My aunt turned to face my boy again and resumed her forehand swipes. She had only delivered three more when he emitted a deep moan and came, ejaculating a long stream of creamy mess on the bedsheet in front of us. He got a scolding for his troubles, but no respite, and I think the poor boy felt every subsequent whack even more keenly after he’d spent himself. If I’m honest, I was rather disappointed by his lack of self control.

We got thirty-six whacks each, six sets of six, by the end of which I could feel my own sticky excitement dripping down the inside of my thighs. My aunt then took a few minutes to carefully examine the marks she’d inflicted, and tug our sore cheeks open to see how our bottoms had been stretched by the bedknobs.

She whispered two words into my ear before she left. Clever girl. Praise that made my clit throb. Before informing us both that we could stay mounted where we were for half an hour. Then she left us on the bedposts to contemplate our misdemeanours.

When I was sure she’d gone downstairs, I whispered conspiratorially to my partner in crime. Do you want to see me come?

He nodded eagerly. I’d never masturbated in front of anyone before, but I’d always fantasised about it, having an audience sitting in respectful silence, like in music recital, whilst I performed for them, skillfully manipulating my instrument, dancing, gyrating and writhing with pleasure.

I reached down and began rubbing my clit, which by now was swollen and throbbing with an almost uncomfortable intensity. My performance was more of a minuet than a concerto, I was so aroused, it only took a few firm rubs until I was bucking wildly on the bedpost, as my bottom clenched and quivered around it.

But girls, that wasn’t The Naughtiest Thing I’ve Ever Done.

The Naughtiest Thing was that I’d planned it all.


I had invited my poor boy here, knowing full well what would happen to us. I had dressed up in my bikini, and had encouraged him to undress with me, in the very place I knew my aunt would come to find us. I knew she’d send us to the punishment room and spank us both. I planned it all because I wanted to see him get spanked, I wanted to see how big and thick his cock got, I wanted to see if he could control himself or lose it and spurt. But I wanted to see it from a safe distance, I didn’t want things to get out of hand, and for his glistening heat-seeking erection to somehow find itself within my hot needy crevice.

So I had contrived everything about our encounter at my aunt’s house. Timing it meticulously to ensure we were caught. But I could only be sure of how she’d react because I knew all about my aunt’s kinky secrets.

A few years earlier, when I was a brash wilful teenager, I’d once spent a dismal rainy afternoon in my aunt’s house when she’d left me alone for the day. My boredom prompted me to roam, and my insatiable curiosity soon drew me to her grand bedroom. I’m embarrassed to say I had little respect for her privacy, and after examining the contents of her lingerie drawer, made the intriguing discovery that only one of her bedside drawers was locked. So I began to search for the key. I soon found that under the mattress.

Now I could begin rummaging through her most personal possessions. At the top was a pile of colourful magazines. My heart almost jumped out of my chest when I flicked through them. The pattern was always the same, a photo of pouting young woman (or sometimes more), each being told off by a stern female authority figure. A headmistress, a nurse, a policewoman, a nun, a mother, an aunt or even a grandmother.

Some images had text beside them, which I read in rapt fascination as they described how the young protagonist had been caught doing The Naughtiest Thing. And in this particular fantasy world, they would, of course, have to severely punished.

My eyes drank in pages and pages of intoxicating imagery. Frowny, pouting girls being led by the hand, bending over to have their skirts lifted and their panties pulled down. And then, punishment was delivered – and it was always a good hard spanking, always administered on a pretty pert bare bottom.

Absolutely no detail was was spared. The beautiful colour photographs showed the pink blushes on the miscreants’ cheeks, at both ends of their bodies. As the sequence continued, their bottoms got pinker, and their expressions more pained and contrite. I could read the writhing in their body language, even though every picture was still, as if my mind could interpolate the absent frames, intuitively knowing just what was missing. Finally, by the end of each sequence, justice had been done, and all was forgiven. Although she still might be pouting as she was sent to stand in the corner with her hands on her head.

I could barely believe my eyes. I laid on my aunt’s big soft bed, eagerly consuming the illicit stories I’d found. It didn’t take long for my hands to wander into my jeans, and then for my jeans to be pulled down completely. I stacked pillows beneath my hips, raising my bottom into the cool air, imagining I’d been caught red-handed by my aunt’s unexpectedly sudden return, and immediately dragged across her knee.

But the magazines weren’t all I found. I found what I later realised were dildos, strap-on harnesses and butt plugs. And several straps and paddles.

I rubbed my throbbing clit as I fantasised about her spanking me, then reached over to pick up one of her paddles, now eager to experience what a smack on the bottom actually felt like.

I reached back and spanked myself firmly, it didn’t hurt, it just felt warm and tingly, as if I’d just sat down heavily onto a hot radiator. So I tried a harder smack, then a harder one, until the heat began to be accompanied by a stinging sensation. And I liked it, I could feel the echo of each smack in my pussy. I began to wonder why anyone would consider this sensation a punishment, why there wasn’t a queue of girls outside the headmistress’ office, her best-behaved girls, each waiting their turn for this special treat.

Before the afternoon was out I was a spanking convert. I had stumbled across an incredible discovery, a true treasure trove – and one, I realised later, that might also explain the absence of boyfriends in my aunt’s life. This had always puzzled me, my aunt was pretty, and seemed to have such an active social life, always surrounded by a cadre of beautiful, elegant friends. It seemed she just preferred the company of women, and liked putting them across her knee too.

Further investigations revealed several adult-sized school uniforms in the wardrobe, what looked like a black headmistress’ gown, a cane, and surely more slippers than any one individual could hope to wear.

I had stumbled my aunt’s thrilling little secret, that she liked spanking naughty girls. That was what planted the seed, when I started thinking: what was The Naughtiest Thing I could do to provoke her into smacking my bottom?

Slowly, in the subsequent months, a plan formed in my mind. I would lure my boyfriend here, and I would ensure we were caught naked, ideally with his fingers deep in my pussy. Then it wouldn’t just be me getting spanked, he would too, and I would get to watch everything.

Positioning ourselves on top of the bedposts was a gamble, but one I thought my aunt would greatly appreciate, especially given what I’d discovered of her penchant for anal discipline.

Was that so naughty of me?

I looked around for an answer. But my three friends clearly had other things on their minds, they already had their toys beneath their posh frocks. I could hear the squelches amid their hurried gasps.

I hope they remember the stakes we’re playing for. Very high stakes indeed.

But my story was too strong to resist, too resonant with my friends’ own desires. One by one. They came for me.

I think that means I’ve won our little new year game.


Well, girls. That means I get to choose your forfeits.

So, you’ll all going to accompany me on my next visit to my lovely strict aunt.

I know what you’re thinking. Yes, she still has the bed. I rode it again on my last visit, the perfectly carved bedknob stretching and filling my hungry cunt. I made such a mess as I came, but didn’t wipe it clean. I left my creamy residue for her to discover. Next time we meet, I want her to deal with me. I want her to be so strict with us.

I’m sure she’d just love to meet you all, and then escort us all to her punishment room. I expect she’ll want to undress us all with her own hands, bend each of us all, and rub a slippy lube all around our bottom holes. Then she’ll lead each of us into position, so we’re all on our tiptoes straddling a bedknob, its cold round tip teasing our tight little rings. How she’ll delight in hearing the gasps and pleas from your pretty faces.

Yes, girls. Put your sticky dildos against your bottom holes now. I know you’re eager to discover just how that will feel. How as your calves tire, you’ll sink deeper onto your bedknob. Each slip making our poor bottoms stretch. That’s it, keep pushing, slow and deep.

But that will only be the start of our ordeal. My aunt will fetch her wicked strap, and tell us to place our hands on top of our heads. Then she’ll begin to dander slowly around the bed, smacking every bottom that she passes, forehand and backhand, on our buttocks and thighs.

She does like to stop and inspect, be prepared for her to spread your slit apart and scrutinise the slick pink flesh within. She likes to tell those who are dripping to pull back their hoods and expose their little glistening bumps. As all the while your sore smacked bottom stings and throbs.

Yes, that’s it, girls. Tug your little hoods back for Miss.

Are you going to come again, girls?

Tsk. Tsk.

Without permission?

Don’t dare come until my dear auntie says, unless you all want to go home with the burning heat of a ginger root in your bum, and the marks of her school cane striping your cheeks.

Oh! I’m so glad you’re looking forward to our little visit, girls.

I promise, it will be The Naughtiest Thing

.

.

.

@spankingtheatre 2018

Originally posted at spankingtheatre.tumblr.com.

You’re welcome to reblog and share.

New Rule

conscious-submission:

conscious-submission:

Every time I masturbate, I must use Icy Hot.

12/12:

Decided to plan out an elaborate scene. First, I prepared a Panty Pulling Chair with four cushions. Then, I read the amazing story, “The Sit-Down Dance,” written by @spankingtheatre. As I progressed through the chapters, I took out a cushion each time the characters were subject to the sit-down dance. I held my elbows behind my back when I wasn’t scrolling, and kept my legs spread wide as I started on the first part of my journey.

The end of the fourth chapter left me in pain, and very wet. I decided to reward myself after a successful punishment, but of course, my rule makes it so that even a reward is a punishment, in its own way. 

I decided to turn a bug into a feature by focusing on anal. It’s something I’m a little bit fascinated by, even though I’ve never done it successfully, and I hoped that Icy Hot might act like the ginger lubricant the Headmistress uses in the story, allowing me to play more easily with my back door. I searched on Pornhub for “anal rimming fingering fucking”, and found the delightful “I WAS CRAVING ANAL SEX SO I FINGERED AND FUCKED MY ASS WITH A DILDO.” 

I did exactly what the girl did in the video, except with Icy Hot on my fingers, and then slathered over my dildo as my only lubricant. Only managed to get half of it in, so I’m definitely going to try this again, and hopefully be able to fuck my ass deeper next time. Also, didn’t manage to come, unfortunately – but hopefully that’ll come with practice! 

The only question is, do I get an orgasm today? Or should I hold off until I can fit the whole dildo in my ass?

I love how creative readers get with my stories. And there’s several good playtime ideas in this post, although I’d recommend starting with small amounts of ginger or menthol balms like Icy Hot, if you’re new to sensation play, as both can be quite overwhelming for novices. A dab on the bottom hole before a panty-pulling can greatly intensify the experience.

This might seem extremely silly but how would one check for a pink stripe after a good panty pulling? I tried to use my phone but wasn’t able to get a good angle

Not a silly question at all, I know examining the stripe inflicted by a good panty-pulling can be very satisfying finale to the experience.

If you have a full length mirror, you can lie on your back and raise your legs to your shoulders, allowing you to look between them at your reflection. Pop a pillow underneath you if you need to make the angle better.

Mirrors have the advantage that they leave both hands free, allowing you to tug your buttocks apart for a better view. Depending on your fantasy you might like to hold this position, imagining yourself being put on display, your punishment visible for all to see.

Bending over with your bottom pulled open is also an excellent position.

If you’re using a camera, the key to a good view is proper illumination. Bend over facing a light source, daylight is best, but you might try experimenting with a flash.

Take your time, and enjoy your inspection.

The Beginner’s Guide to Self-Spanking

This is a repost, the original post fell victim to Tumblr’s filters.

Self-spanking is a lot like masturbation. In private, many enjoy doing it. But you’ll rarely hear many people talking about it.

I’m often asked for advice on self-spanking
by readers who are intrigued by the experience, yet who feel awkward
spanking themselves. This is, I believe, because spanking is more than
just smacks on the bottom, it’s as much a mental experience as a
physical one. Engaging your imagination is the key to a satisfying
spanking, whether you’re alone or with a partner. So in this guide, I
hope to address the practicalities of self-spanking, and provide some
ideas for creating fulfilling and arousing playtimes.

First, let’s consider a question, asked by many, especially those yet to try it.


Why would anyone want to spank themselves?

My answer is that fundamentally, self-spanking is just another form of play.

Think
about it this way: vibrators stimulate nerves in the pussy, and
spankings stimulate nerves in the bottom. Whilst the sensations might be
different, impacts rather than rubbings and vibrations, they are
transmitted by exactly the same nerves: the Pudendal and the Perineal
nerves. When your brain receives signals from these nerves, it
interprets them as coming from the whole genital area. As a result, a
side-effect of spankings is the erotic sensation in the genitals, even
though those areas are not actually being touched.

The Pudendal
and the Perineal nerves are located in the lower parts of the buttocks,
near the anus and just above the tops of the thighs. That’s why this
‘sit-spot’ area is the favoured area for spanking, it’s where smacks are
felt most intensely and pleasurably.

Spankings can also, of
course, be painful; that’s why they’ve historically been a form of
punishment. Pain is your body’s early warning signal, alerting you to
the fact that your body is at risk of damage and injury. So normally,
our response to these sensations is aversion, to move away from what’s
causing the damage. Adrenaline surges through us, our heart races, our
minds concentrate. But if you’re over someone’s knee being spanked,
running away is no longer an option; you must instead grimace and bear
it.

When pain is unavoidable, our brains start to release natural
opiates called endorphins, which not only dull the pain signals
received, so they do not become overwhelming, but also produce a floaty
euphoric feeling. Our bodies have a limited stockpile of endorphins,
once they’re released it takes a while to replenish. Which is one of the
reasons why those with spanked bottoms are often sent to the corner: so
they get to feel the soreness and stinging they’ve received when the
fug of their endorphins wear off.

It is this combination of
arousing tingles in the genitals, adrenaline rushes and natural highs
that, when performed right, can make spankings so pleasurable. So if you
enjoy the sensation of a smacked bottom, there’s nothing wrong with
delivering that feeling to yourself.

Hence I consider
self-spanking a form of masturbation. I regard it as a form of self-love
rather than self-harm, a form of self-pleasuring rather than
self-mortification. Spanking is a complementary physical sensation to
the joys of genital rubbing, and as those who’ve experienced a spanking
already know, well-smacked bottoms tend to lead to the most intense
orgasms…

As a result, for many who enjoy spanking stories,
self-spanking is just a natural extension of how they masturbate, giving
them the chance to experience for themselves some of the physical
sensations they’ve just been reading about. After all, what else could
make story about submission any more erotic, than physically submitting
yourself to the story?

Yet it would be wrong to consider
self-spankings as an activity of last resort, an ersatz experience when
no spanker is nearby. On the contrary, it provides a way for readers to
play in the privacy of their own homes, to indulge their own fantasies,
without weirding out a partner or revealing what they’d rather keep to
themselves. It’s the same reason why many with regular sexual partners
still like to play with themselves.

Having explained why
self-spanking is popular, you might be getting curious, tempted to try
the experience for yourself. So the next section will explain some of
the basic practicalities for the benefit of beginners.


How to Get Started

Giving
yourself a spanking is as simple as reaching back and slapping your own
bottom. But there’s a few practical aspects worth considering that will
make the experience more intense, and enjoyable.  

The first is
choosing what you’ll spank yourself with, whilst you can use the palm of
your hand, you’ll achieve a far better sensation with a proper spanking
implement. This is because of science! Specifically, the mechanics of
levers – a spanking implement will multiply the force you apply to
yourself, giving a harder whack for the same effort. Using an implement
also means you’ll experience a single impact sensation, having your palm
sting at the same time as your bottom tends to break the spell of what
you’re imagining.

Good items to use for spanking can be found all
around the house. Try slippers, flip-flops, wooden rulers, hairbrushes,
wooden spoons, spatulas, and bath-brushes. Then if, once you get into
it, you want to get more serious about bottom smacking, you can add a
proper spanking paddle to your basket the next time you go sex toy
shopping.

If you’re not an experienced spankee you’ll quickly
discover some implements are more painful than others. Generally
speaking, the harder and heavier the material, the less forgiving it
will be. So sturdy hairbrushes will hurt more than light balsa wood
spatulas. Implements that flex, like flip-flops and slippers will be
more forgiving than rigid items like rulers and brushes.

The next
issue to consider is what position to adopt whilst spanking yourself.
For this, choose whatever you find most comfortable, or best fits the
fantasy you’re imagining. You might want to bend over a pile of pillows,
or the edge of a sofa, or straddle the corner of your bed.

Other
positions you might try are leaning against a wall, over the back of a
chair or a banister, of kneeling on cushions with your bum in the air.
The possibilities are too numerous to list, just choose one that
supports your own weight comfortably, and leaves your strongest arm free
to reach around to apply your chosen implement to your bottom.

The
position you choose will dictate the angle that you’ll spank yourself
from, usually reaching back and around. For a different sensation you
can try lying on your back and lifting your legs, allowing you to spank
in between them, this position is particularly good for smacking your
sit-spots, and enjoying the ‘shame’ of exposing yourself.

The
duration of your spanking is also up to you to decide, it will depend on
the implement you use and your own tolerance of pain. The key here is
to start small, and build up until you find the degree of soreness you
find most satisfying.

If you’re new to self-spanking, you might
like to choose a softer implement like a slipper, and give yourself a
single smack on each cheek, then pause and feel the warmth on your
bottom. Then spank again, maybe adding a couple more smacks before your
next pause. Perhaps when your bottom starts getting sore, you can take
break, imagine you’ve been sent to the corner, and stand facing the
wall, feeling cool air wafting over your hot cheeks. Then maybe your
imaginary disciplinarian decides your spanking wasn’t sufficient, and
your brattiness earns you a trip across their knee for seconds.

Once
you’re comfortable with the sensation of being spanked, try timing
yourself, so you can measure the duration of your spanking in minutes.

One
last consideration is privacy. Unlike masturbation, which you can do
virtually silently in your own bedroom, the noise of a spanking is
unavoidable. This shouldn’t be a problem if you live alone or with a
kinky partner, but otherwise you’ll be limiting your self-spankings to
times when you’re alone in your home.

So, that’s the physical
practicalities of self-spanking, now let’s consider the mental side, and
in particular, how do you make it erotic?



The Importance of Turning Yourself On

Here I’m going to introduce three ways how you might eroticise a self-spanking session.

The first is what I’d call Spank-As-You-Read, and is described in Naughty Game #6 – Naughty Reading.
This involves reading a spanking story, and imagining yourself as
somehow inside it, so when you read about spankings, you get to
experience them vicariously. The benefit here is the story is scripted
for you, it’s like a roller-coaster, you just buckle in and enjoy the
ride.

Perhaps you already masturbate when you read spanking
stories. Imagine if, instead of riding to orgasm, you put your fingers
of your weaker hand between your legs, and used your stronger hand to
rub your bottom with a slipper. Then, the rubs would soon turn into
spanks, and you’d begin to grind against your fingers. You’d smack
slowly, savouring the sound of the slap, the lingering sting.

Soon
you’ll be immersed in the story, your imagination engaged, can you
imagine you’re in it? Perhaps you’ll act out what you’re reading, speak
the dialogue aloud. A climax will be inevitable, but this one will be
different, you’ll end the tale with a delightfully warm bottom of your
own, and a head full of delicious thoughts.

The
second way to act out a fantasy of your own. This gives you the freedom
to improvise, and indulge the kind of activities that turn you on. There
is an art to getting into the right mindset for make-believe though, if
you find this difficult, you might want to warm yourself up with some
suitable erotica first, either visual or the written word.

Perhaps
you’ll imagine a favourite scenario, like reporting to the headmaster,
or being sent to bed early by Daddy. Or even to re-enact a spanking
picture of video you really enjoy. You might want to dress up for the
occasion, invent a bit of a back story, apologise or plead aloud when
it’s made clear your bare bottom is due for a whacking. Perhaps there
will be cornertime, writing of lines or a confession no one will ever
read. Just engage your imagination and invent a scene you’ve always
wanted to come true.

Here are the challenges I’ve posted so far. Enjoy your adventures…

Day 1 – The Fascination of Spanking

Day 2 – Choices and Consequences

Day 3 – Dressing Up

Day 4 – Anticipation

Day 5 – Cornertime

Day 6 – Alter Ego

Day 7 – Being Naughty

Day 8 – Bottom Inspection

Day 9 – Pillow Hump

Day 10 – Echoes

Day 11 – Christmas Story

Day 12 – Star in a Story

Day 13 – The Proper Way to Watch a Spanking Video

Day 14 – A Note From School

Day 15 – Fire and Ice

Day 16 – A Good Hard Caning

Day 17 – Rubber Band

Day 18 – Punishment Girdles

The link on Advent Day 16 is not working, good sir.

It seems that post was too racy for Tumblr, so you’ll find it here instead:

https://spankingtheatre.wordpress.com/2017/04/13/the-view-from-your-throne-3/

Sir I’d like to try the self spanking challenges but i find it hard to hold myself accountable to it. Any tips to help with that?

If you lack the self-discipline to be accountable to yourself, you will need to make yourself accountable to others.

The most public way is to post your intention on your blog, along with regular updates. A more private way is to inform a kinky friend or play partner, they don’t have to be dominant, you might even find they’re interested in exploring the sensations of self-spanking too.

But if you’re still struggling, send me a private message, and I’ll ensure you get a sore bottom for Christmas.

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