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Spanking Theatre

Spanking stories for the theatre between your ears

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public indecency

I was feeling reckless so went through my days tasks with no panties on under a skirt, slipping fingers underneath my skirt a few times whilst in public. I don’t currently have someone to pull down my panties but I know I deserve a long hard spanking for such unlady like behaviour. What should I do Sir?

I think three assignments from the following list would be appropriate punishment for such naughtiness:

https://spankingtheatre.tumblr.com/post/181305211355/the-beginners-guide-to-self-spanking

You may choose. Do let me know when your punishment is complete.

Accountability is very important.

Could you do a public punishment challenge? Something you can do in public without getting caught, but it’s more erotic because other people are around?

Such a challenge has already been written, it’s called Being Naughty.

It suggests several discreet naughty activities, that you might like to try or use as a basis for your own hijinks, such as:

  • Read a spanking story in a public place, like a cafe or a park, so you won’t be able to touch yourself.
  • Go out (to go shopping, or for a run, or to meet friends) without panties, or wearing a butt plug.
  • Go into a cubicle in a public lavatory, or a toilet at a friend’s home, and masturbate.
  • Go
    out and buy a spanking implement, like a wooden ruler, hairbrush or
    some slippers. If you possess a school uniform, wear it underneath your
    coat. Imagine you’ve been sent out by your disciplinarian.
  • Go
    out and buy something with naughty connotations, like a ginger root. Or
    some condoms and a cucumber. Then play with your purchases when you get
    home…

And if you’ve any suggestions for discreet naughtiness you’d like to share, just reply to this post, I’m sure your fellow readers would love to read them…

Scene on a Train

A reader asks:

“Would you mind posting this scene on the train as an extract on it’s
own? Its a lovely scene but gets a bit lost in the rest of the chapter.”

It is a great scene, so as a special treat, here it is in isolation. If others want to read the full story that leads up to it, they can find it in Coming of Age part 3.


… we felt like partners in
crime, on the run, scurrying deeper into the backroads of Europe.

Do you remember all the naughty things we got up to? I know excited you get, thinking back
to all the naughty things we’ve done.

How you loved to tease me. I recall your favourite tactic was trying to get me hard in
situations where I could nothing about it. You’d flash your panties, perhaps whispering into
my ear how wet you were, or even leave me naughty notes to discover in my backpack.
You’ll recall how I retaliated, by promising to put you over my knee when we were next
alone. I began to keep a tally, minor teases like sticking your tongue out would earn one
spank, whilst major teases like going to the loo, fingering yourself and rubbing your pussy
juices across my lips on your return would earn five. Yet my ingenious scheme only seemed
to encourage your misbehaviour, alas.

Trains proved a regular venue for mischief, which was fitting, given how we met. I’m sure
you remember one escapade in particular.

It started innocently enough, as so many erotic adventures do. My hand resting on your
thigh, as I idly looked out the window at the passing yellow blur of vast fields of sunflowers.
I rubbed your leg in slow circles, as you laid back in your seat and sighed. Soon, you whispered into my ear: “Higher”

My hand complied, and a pattern developed: I’d rub, you’d whisper in my ear, and my hand
would stray a bit further underneath your dress. Soon, I’d reached the top of your leg, stroking
along the crease of your thigh, feeling the fabric of your panties against my fingertips.

“Higher…” you pleaded.

Our carriage was almost empty, a
virtue of our limited budget, the cheapest tickets were never on busy
trains. I looked around casually, there was no one in the seats nearby
to see us. So I let a
fingertip stray into your underwear, gently combing the fine hair on
your mound.

“Lower… please…” you whispered.

My finger drifted downwards, like a drop of water being channelled by a furrow, until I
reached the velvety soft bump of your little hood. I stroked you there, and you writhed
silently in your seat. Soon your slit was soaking wet.

“Stand up” I told you a few minutes later.

You rose, your excitement and the motion of the train making your legs wobbly. The seat in
front of you was slightly higher than your waist, helpfully shielding you from any prying eyes. I
reached under your dress with both my hands, hooking my fingers into the elastic of your
panties, pulling them right down in one swift movement.

You had to throw your hands over your mouth to stifle your gasp.

I made you step out of your panties, and picked them off the floor. The crotch was dark with
your wetness, sticky to the touch. Then I stood too, so I could whisper into your ear.

“You are a naughty girl. You know what happens to naughty girls.”

I lifted the back hem of your dress, and quietly smacked one of your bare cheeks by way of
illustration.

“Now go to the toilet.” I instructed.

“Take off your dress and your bra, hang them up, and wait facing the corner with your hands
on your head. Keep the door unlocked.”

You looked round at me, your expression one of indignant shock, but I could see that was an
act, and you were struggling to keep the lust from your face. And then you turned and
walked towards the toilet at the end of the carriage, hips sashaying provocatively all the way
down the aisle. When you closed the door of the cubicle, I looked at the light above it to see
if you’d followed my instructions, it did not illuminate.

What was it like, waiting naked in that toilet cubicle? Knowing at any moment the door
would swing open, not knowing who it might be. Not knowing who would see you, standing
with your nose in the corner like a naughty little girl, ready to be spanked.

I let you wait for five minutes, rummaging in my bag but watching
the carriage for any hint
of movement, ready to leap from my seat and get in front of anyone who
came down the aisle with a lavatory visit on their mind. Then I strode
down the aisle and pulled the door
open. You flinched, but didn’t turn around.

I opened the door to an extraordinary and beautiful sight. You stood obediently in the
corner, your hands on your head, your dress and bra hanging up as I’d instructed. I stepped
inside, locking the door behind me.

I saw in the mirror you had your eyes closed. I wonder if you knew it was me – or whether
you were just hoping it was? Did the thought of being discovered naked by a stranger
excite you? I slipped my hand between your thighs, folding my fingers and cupping your
cunt. You were so wet, I’d never seen you so aroused. I left my hand against your slit for you
to slide on, whilst I planted kisses on the nape of your neck.

You got close, didn’t you? Until I withdrew my hand and smacked your arse.

Inside, space was tight, far too cramped for me to sit on the toilet seat and put you over my
knee. So you remained standing in the corner, your head on your hands, resting against the
wall as I spanked your bare bottom pink. I did wonder if the sound of the smacks would be
audible, or masked by the clunking and clattering of the train. Or if someone was now
standing outside, waiting, and bursting for a pee.

After I’d spanked you, I pushed the door ajar slightly, peering outside to see if anyone was
waiting. But the corridor was empty. So I locked the door again, and cupped your buttocks
with my hands, finding each firm globe hot to the touch. I pulled your cheeks apart,
examining the pink wrinkle of your bottom hole, and the dark patch of skin that surrounded
it. Beneath, your lips were swollen and conspicuously wet.

With my palms on your bottom, I kept your cheeks held apart, whilst my thumbs massaged
either side of your slit. You were very excited indeed, I could slide my thumb all the way into
your vagina without resistance.

You weren’t the only one excited, my own erection was now painfully imprisoned in my
trousers. So I undid my jeans and tugged them down, and sat on the toilet seat. You looked
at my cock hungrily. I dipped my fingers into my front pocket and produced the condom I’d
stowed whilst you’d been waiting for me.

“Yes!” you nodded enthusiastically.

I tore open the packet eagerly, rolling the sheath down my shaft without delay. Then you
straddled me, lowering yourself onto my cock until you were fully impaled and sitting on my
lap. I reached around to grasp your bottom, feeling the heat from your spanked cheeks radiating
back into my palms. We rocked in time with the motion of the train, the subtle sway of track
curves providing the most wonderful sensations.

As we fucked, we mischievously agreed that the first one to come would open the door
when we were ready to leave, and so be the first to step out and encounter whoever might
be patiently waiting.

That challenge seemed to motivate you, and you began to grind yourself on top of me with
renewed vigour, trying to make me come. I had the advantage though, able to reach behind
you and tickle your bottom hole, circling it, teasing you by explaining just what I was about
to do. You begged me not to, bucking up and down frantically, clenching my cock with your
tight little cunt. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer, so I slipped my index finger into
your bottom hole, so hot and smooth and tight. The muscles of your entrance gripped my
finger like a vice, but you couldn’t help but push down deeper on it.

Moments later, we came together, muffling our delight against each other’s shoulders.

When did eventually emerge, dressed, cleansed and smiling, we stepped out hand in hand.
What the world thought of us, we no longer cared…

Making my own Chastity Belt

spankingtheatre:

An anonymous reader writes:

I am a terrible procrastinator. I am confident that I would not be the first to suggest that I actually am a very good procrastinator as I seem to lean directly into it. I have found that I must employ a reward scenario to encourage the completion of my chores, however, because I have so often avoided responsibility, I feel it is important to add elements of discipline and punishment.  Today, I have a small list of chores, the last one being that I must write this, a detailed account of my disciplinary methods, for you.

To begin, I must insert a plug into my bottom. This particular implement is being used as I am often in need of a reminder that only well-behaved girls receive pleasure in their cunts. I have not yet earned that right. To return to the plug, it is the Goldilocks sized – neither too big, nor too small. Its bulb is 1 ¾ inches in diameter and is not meant for long term wearing. Rather, it is intended for dilation. It provides a full and open feeling physically (and a naughty, slightly humiliating feeling mentally), therefore, as the sphincter is being stretched, my muscles can not hold it in place.

To combat this, I have employed three leather belts to ensure that the plug stays firmly in place for the duration of my chores. And that my wandering fingers are kept well away. In effect, I have created my very own chastity belt. The belts are used thusly:

The first is secured tightly around my waist.

The second is looped in the back through its own buckle around the first. It passes through my legs, snugly against the plug and through my pussy, up again to pass up and over the first belt at my waist. It is important at this time to ensure that the labia majora are splayed firmly apart to ensure maximum contact with my delicate folds and my clitoris. Like so…

The third belt is then affixed around my waist, just beneath the first. Its role is to ensure my movements to not allow the vertical belt to slip and allow for relief from the pressure on the plug and against my clit.

Keep reading

On her wonderful blog, naughty @littlemisssubshine is inviting readers to submit their own suggestions for some humiliating tasks. So here’s one that she, and other readers here, might enjoy:

  • Shave yourself bare.
  • Make yourself a chastity belt, as described in the post above.
  • Put it on, nice and tight.
  • Then wear it out in public under a skirt or jeans. No panties, of course.
  • Then on your return, before you’re release, sit down with belt still tight.
  • Now write about your experience, and publish it for all to see.

Your Full Attention

As the twilight city twinkles

Two impeccably dressed diners

Take seats in the swankiest bistro

After entrées are served

He reaches under the table

Attaching a thin silver chain

Between her concealed ankle cuffs

Beneath her long evening gown

He leans in to whisper

There, there, my headstrong little brat

I love it when you pretend you don’t need me

It just lets me prove that you do

A short story about what happens in the privacy of the polling booth.

Cast your vote.

Election Day

A powerful aphrodisiac

An anonymous reader writes:

Hi..l came across your website almost
a year ago and since then there’s been
no looking back.

Your stories are so tantalizing that it’s outrageous. A
few days ago
l read Grimoire while attempting to follow the instructions and challenges of Squirm. Believe me,
l did try to keep my hands away from… you know what… but l just couldn’t… my fingers took on a life of their own. Anyway, l was defeated. A victim of my own lack of self control.

But instead of punishing myself
l decided to take on a challenge that might teach me some self control. l
decided to read Grimoire again, in my college library…

Oh the sensations! ln
the midst of so many books l felt utterly sinful. My hands were itching to
touch myself, but in public l could only put on
a straight face and read on. l kept squirming in my seat and when
l finished reading
l looked up at the bookshelves where the books seemed to frown disapprovingly.
I felt positively guilty but positively aroused as well.

As you’ve so rightly written guilt can be a powerful
aphrodisiac.

Now regarding my punishment l decided to buy
a very tight pair of panties and wear them to bed. They’re so snug
l can’t even let my fingers in when
l want to rub myself. And on top of that denial
l shall read more of your stories. Oh the delicious frustrations…

Do you think
I’ve punished myself enough? lf not could you please suggest
a few punishments? With your devious imagination I’m quite sure you’re capable of it…


Well, as you seem to find stories of spanking and punishment so arousing, I think it’s only proper you experience a spanked bottom for yourself. Perhaps you’ll find some ideas to inspire you in my recent Guide to Self-Spanking. Perhaps you’re already thinking of bending over the bottom of your bed, tapping a hairbrush or slipper expectantly on your bare tingling cheeks.

Or perhaps you’ll be spanked with your tight panties on, denying your wandering fingers the chance to rub away your whacking. And perhaps afterwards you’ll tie your underwear to the back of your panty-pulling chair, and do your very own sit-down dance, squirming on your pink bottom as you contemplate your naughtiness. I’ve found that a powerful
aphrodisiac indeed.

I do hope that’s answered your question, dear reader.

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