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Spanking Theatre

Spanking stories for the theatre between your ears

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confession box

Are you still accepting confessions I wonder?

My inbox is always open. Though I’m most interested in unexpected confessions. I often receive messages admitting to masturbating too much, or not studying enough. This kind of misbehaviour seems commonplace.

But perhaps you have something naughtier and more adventurous to confess, something like the experiences submitted by these readers.

In which case, I look forward to what you have to say for yourself…

Punishment Panties

littlemisssubshine:

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…

I was a really naughty girl today and masturbated at the beach while reading your work

Given large areas of the northern hemisphere are currently shivering in the cold, I suspect there’s going to be a lot of readers who’ll view this particular confession with a mix of simmering envy and extreme longing.

But I applaud your bold naughtiness, young lady. That’s how I’ve always thought my stories should be read.

“I masturbated in public”

Yesterday, a naughty young lady wrote in, admitting she had just masturbated in public – whilst imagining having her bottom thoroughly inspected by me.

And, that she had loved it.

Her adventurousness was commendable, but her indecency deserved discipline. So I set her some lines, to be written as her bottom was spanked. So, as she enjoyed her public naughtiness so much, it seems proper her confession is also posted, for everyone to see…

I bet her fingers are sliding between her own wet slit as she reads this post.

Naughty girl.

Your latest story, inspired me to go through my day yesterday with my panties pulled up tight. I expected the pressure on my clit and how the cotton would pull as it slid in my slit with every movement. I didn’t expect the pleasurable sensation of my panties rubbing against that ring of flesh nestled between my cheeks. The combination was almost unbearable. I couldn’t focus on the sermon in church. When I had finished my lunch my panties were wet past the gusset up the back and front.

I’m delighted to have inspired your new discovery. There are so many enjoyably excruciating sensations possible with your panties pulled up tight.

Yesterday, a reader wrote of the pinch that teased and nipped her clit, and another has recently described the joy of the hot pink stripe between her cheeks. An ever-changing torment as you walk, or crouch or sit, or that moment when you bend over to touch your toes, gasping as your underwear rudely clefts your slit asunder.

And to wear your panties tight to church, your soaking little secret, barely concealed beneath your Sunday best. How wickedly erotic. Naughty bottoms have been spanked for less…

Latent Lust

An anonymous reader writes:

If
there was one reason I could think of why I need a good spanking, it’d be lust.

On the outside I’m a very shy person, so at this
point in time I’ve never been with a man before. But on the inside I
fantasize about it almost all the time. It’s getting to the point where
I’ve taken to wearing short shorts and low-cut tops around college in
order to attract the attention of young men(or rather, one young man in
particular). If I were a schoolgirl, no doubt I’d be the type to get
caught ushering a boy into a private corner so I could show him my
panties…

Whether as a schoolgirl or in reality, the spanking I’d get for such
disgraceful behavior would be richly deserved. Although now I think
about it, I grow breathless at the thought of a man taking me over his
knee… Maybe I’d enjoy the spanking too much for it to have any effect.


There’s nothing wrong with lust, of course, yet our culture considers it somehow improper. Some even believe it is a deadly sin! So we hide away our real feelings, which makes them seem naughty, and we all know what happens to the bottoms of the naughty. We live in a world full of constraints and rules that continually foil our true desires – so why shouldn’t we eroticise them? Life is much more fun that way.

Thank you for your submission to the confession box!

Latent Lust

An anonymous reader writes:

If
there was one reason I could think of why I need a good spanking, it’d be lust.

On the outside I’m a very shy person, so at this
point in time I’ve never been with a man before. But on the inside I
fantasize about it almost all the time. It’s getting to the point where
I’ve taken to wearing short shorts and low-cut tops around college in
order to attract the attention of young men(or rather, one young man in
particular). If I were a schoolgirl, no doubt I’d be the type to get
caught ushering a boy into a private corner so I could show him my
panties…

Whether as a schoolgirl or in reality, the spanking I’d get for such
disgraceful behavior would be richly deserved. Although now I think
about it, I grow breathless at the thought of a man taking me over his
knee… Maybe I’d enjoy the spanking too much for it to have any effect.


There’s nothing wrong with lust, of course, yet our culture considers it somehow improper. Some even believe it is a deadly sin! So we hide away our real feelings, which makes them seem naughty, and we all know what happens to the bottoms of the naughty. We live in a world full of constraints and rules that continually foil our true desires – so why shouldn’t we eroticise them? Life is much more fun that way.

Thank you for your submission to the confession box!

Filthy Fantasies

An anonymous reader writes:

When I masturbate, my mind fills with the filthiest fantasies.

Like I imagine being made to strip to my underwear, and then my headmistress puts me over her knee and spanks me on the bare. Afterwards, she pulls my panties up over my sore stinging bottom and leads me to the locker room, and makes me stand facing the corner in the shower. I’m rubbing inside myself as I imagine all this, and it makes me feel like I’m about to pee.

So I imagine pleading to be allowed to go. But she refuses me. I hold on for as long as I can, crossing and clenching my thighs together, but that only intensifies the urge. I can’t hold on any longer. Then suddenly, I imagine I wet myself. As I imagine the gush of hot liquid filling my panties and streaming down my tightly clenched thighs, that’s when I come. Sometimes I even feel a squirt of wetness on my hand as I writhe and moan.

So there I am, just after wetting myself in front of my headmistress. I beg to be allowed to take off my sodden panties, but she says I have to keep them on, because they and I are so disgusting. So I
have to clean myself with my wet panties still on, and she stands there behind me, watching as I
soap myself, making sure I don’t miss a spot. But my clit is so sensitive now, and as I soap and rub my panties between my legs, I just know I am going to come. I can’t help it. I climax right there, right in front of my headmistress, knowing there and then that I’d just earned
myself another spanking…

I leave my rinsed underwear in the locker room to dry, and spend the rest of the day nude in her office, with
my hands on the wall, my sore red bottom jutting out, my legs spread wide apart so even my
pussy can be seen, swollen and slick with arousal. I am there on display even as she has her
after-school meetings. I do my best not to be noticed, but know
everyone present can see me. It makes the heat low in my belly grow, it makes me want to be rubbed, to feel someone’s hands – anyone’s hands – stroke my private places.

I’m rubbing myself again. Imagining the shame, feeling my own wetness on my thighs. Then in my head one of the teachers
comments on the disgraceful wetness of want dripping out of me, and I
nearly cry. And then I climax. And I climax really hard.


Thank you for sharing, dear reader, and the glimpse you’ve offered us into your exceptional imagination. A wonderful account of how extremely vivid fantasies featuring taboo subjects can be channelled into the most intense climaxes. The erotic mind is your own private playground, somewhere the normal rules of reality no longer apply. Where up can be down, right can be wrong, and humiliation can be joy.

I wonder if other readers have a favourite fantasy they’d like to slip into the confession box?

Filthy Fantasies

An anonymous reader writes:

When I masturbate, my mind fills with the filthiest fantasies.

Like I imagine being made to strip to my underwear, and then my headmistress puts me over her knee and spanks me on the bare. Afterwards, she pulls my panties up over my sore stinging bottom and leads me to the locker room, and makes me stand facing the corner in the shower. I’m rubbing inside myself as I imagine all this, and it makes me feel like I’m about to pee.

So I imagine pleading to be allowed to go. But she refuses me. I hold on for as long as I can, crossing and clenching my thighs together, but that only intensifies the urge. I can’t hold on any longer. Then suddenly, I imagine I wet myself. As I imagine the gush of hot liquid filling my panties and streaming down my tightly clenched thighs, that’s when I come. Sometimes I even feel a squirt of wetness on my hand as I writhe and moan.

So there I am, just after wetting myself in front of my headmistress. I beg to be allowed to take off my sodden panties, but she says I have to keep them on, because they and I are so disgusting. So I
have to clean myself with my wet panties still on, and she stands there behind me, watching as I
soap myself, making sure I don’t miss a spot. But my clit is so sensitive now, and as I soap and rub my panties between my legs, I just know I am going to come. I can’t help it. I climax right there, right in front of my headmistress, knowing there and then that I’d just earned
myself another spanking…

I leave my rinsed underwear in the locker room to dry, and spend the rest of the day nude in her office, with
my hands on the wall, my sore red bottom jutting out, my legs spread wide apart so even my
pussy can be seen, swollen and slick with arousal. I am there on display even as she has her
after-school meetings. I do my best not to be noticed, but know
everyone present can see me. It makes the heat low in my belly grow, it makes me want to be rubbed, to feel someone’s hands – anyone’s hands – stroke my private places.

I’m rubbing myself again. Imagining the shame, feeling my own wetness on my thighs. Then in my head one of the teachers
comments on the disgraceful wetness of want dripping out of me, and I
nearly cry. And then I climax. And I climax really hard.


Thank you for sharing, dear reader, and the glimpse you’ve offered us into your exceptional imagination. A wonderful account of how extremely vivid fantasies featuring taboo subjects can be channelled into the most intense climaxes. The erotic mind is your own private playground, somewhere the normal rules of reality no longer apply. Where up can be down, right can be wrong, and humiliation can be joy.

I wonder if other readers have a favourite fantasy they’d like to slip into the confession box?

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