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Spanking Theatre

Spanking stories for the theatre between your ears

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proustian memories

My confession is that I’ve discovered a wonderful way to please myself in the shower. The handheld sprayer pointed directly at my spread lips works wonders and is a fun way to play with temperature as well. It’s so easy to edge myself to climax. It also makes for easy cleanup so no one discovers my dirty little secret…

Indeed, the shower-head is another everyday item with secret erotic connotations for many. 

The sensations on highly sensitised skin, particularly after slit and mound have been meticulously shaved, are quite delightful.

Then there’s the thrilling jeopardy of playing outside the bedroom, masturbating illicitly, whilst you should really be getting washed.

Playing with the temperature dial, slowly numbing your clit with cooling water, until you’re desperate to reawaken it with a jet of hot indulgent torrents. And then dialing down before you get too close, and then doing it all again.

You’re quite aware that your deceit deserves a well-smacked bottom.

You deserve to be spanked whilst still dripping wet, knowing that a wet-bottom spanking is always twice as sore.

But that only makes you push the shower-head closer…

My everyday item with secret sexual connotations is wooden spoons. Also ping pong paddles. I’m sure you can guess why. Just seeing either of those things- especially if someone is holding it- makes me feel a little intimidated and very turned on.

I have fond memories of wooden spoon shopping. A kitchenware department makes a wonderful date night venue. Evading the other shoppers, until you’re alone with the wooden spatulas and spoons.

Then whispering into her ear, instructing her to choose one. To present it to you. A few subtle swishes. Maybe an experimental smack into the palm. If it’s too flimsy, hand it back, and tell her to do better. Pine is too light, something much more sturdy is required, something capable of delivering a good hard whacking. Oak perhaps, or cherrywood.

Once she’s found a suitable implement, you can beckon her closer, and tell her exactly how you intend to use it.

On her bare bottom.

Because when we get home, you explain, you intend to confiscate her panties, just as soon as the front door closes. And discover just how much she’s enjoyed our little shopping trip.

Explain how you intend to escort her to the Kitchen Table, where you’ll bend her over and lift her skirt. You won’t start spanking straight-away though, you’ll place the spoon between her bare cheeks, angling it slightly so its handle parts the lips of her slit.

Perhaps you’ll insist that she stands to undress herself, and clench her cheeks tight lest the spoon disrespectfully tumbles to the floor.

You take the spoon to the counter, watching as your partner blushes the most delightful shade of pink. It won’t be long until her bottom matches.

Just a single spoon? queries the assistant.

Oh yes, you reply.

A single spoon is all we need…

Reading everybody’s confessions is fun so I thought I’d send in my own. It’s more of a funny story than a confession, really, but there was a night when my master washed my mouth out with soap and a few weeks later I used the same kind of soap to wash my hands… There was a very confusing couple of seconds where I had to think about why exactly the smell of soap was making me so wet. Thankfully it didn’t take me long to remember and the scent of honeysuckle has made me laugh ever since.

How delightfully Proustian!

I wonder what other everyday items have special secret erotic connotations for readers?

And what is the sense that is triggered?

Perhaps it’s catching a glimpse of something?

Or hearing a sound?

Or maybe a smell?

Or a taste?

Or might it be a texture or touch?

Do post your memories…

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