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Spanking Theatre

Spanking stories for the theatre between your ears

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roleplaying

Any updates on the academy role play you set up a while ago? I’d love to join if it’s open

I’ve been a bit busy with real life commitments recently, but I was thinking of rebooting the school in the near future. Give this post a like if you’d be interested in joining in, and I’ll gauge the level of interest.

I just wanted to say thank you for all the posts you’ve made over the past few years! Recently my partner surprised me with game “throne” and it was great. I sat on the dildo he placed in the chair and he tied my arms to the arm rests. At first, he left me there for a few minutes then when he came back he was a tease. He kissed my neck and whispered the most sinful things in my ears. I wasn’t allowed to finish which was torture. He would stop for a few minutes anytime I whined or tried to move. After this, he had me bent over the bed where he spanked me until my bottom was nice and sore. We will definitely be playing this again. Thank you!

You’re not the first to send me a message like this.

It seems many have enjoyed surprising their partner, who arrives home one day to find their Throne already set up for them. The dildo pointing eagerly upwards from the seat, glistening with lube and expectation.

“Your Throne awaits, Majesty,” they announce respectfully.

Perhaps they’ve already dressed for the role they intend to play. In their finest, most elegant clothes for royalty, or maybe something more revealing if they are to be your servant.

And then they will undress you. Immediately and completely. Kneeling between your legs to respectfully lubricate your bottom hole.

Then you will be guided to your seat, and assisted as you sit, atop the bottom stretching protrusion that has been especially prepared for you.

Once your wrists are secured and your legs are spread, your partner will bow before your royal magnificence.

Perhaps they will ask for your command, and perform to your instructions. Or maybe they will tease you and see how long your royal demeanour lasts before it begins to crack.

Perhaps they’ll be your Court Bard, reading you an excerpt from an erotic story, as you squirm and gasp atop your delightful protrusion. I would highly recommend choosing Throne of Shame.

Then finally, there will come a time to release you. Who knows what pleasures or torments they have in store?

Perhaps you’ll be made to Straddle the Wooden Pony, as you attempt to retain your royal pretence as your bare bottom is flogged.

When you come home to find a Throne waiting for you, who knows how the evening’s fairytale will end?

I dream about being tied up in a cellar, being bought and sold, being used and abused in the most intimate ways… but I’m really scared to discuss this fantasy with a partner… do you have any advice?

I’m assuming that your anxiety stems from feelings of shame and embarrassment, rather than concerns for your own personal safety. If you fear that a partner might not respect your boundaries, any kind of kinky play is risky. But assuming you feel safe with your partner, then I can assure you that the fantasies you’ve described are nothing out of the ordinary.

Everyone thinks their own fantasies are the weirdest, but that’s because they’ve imagined them in such intense detail for so long. Perhaps it’s because we never really get to look inside the heads of others, and see what really lurks inside their equally filthy imaginations.

In reality, the desire to cede control to a lover, to be enslaved, kidnapped or imprisoned for an evening is a common one. What stops most people acting it out is their fear of how they’ll be perceived. And it’s not just submissives who feel this anxiety, some who’d love to dominate their partners are wary of throwing away the mask of niceness they’ve worn, perhaps ever since they first met. 

Imagine if your partner secretly fantasises about treating you as a sex slave, or tying you up in the basement, naked and blindfolded, with all three holes filled. How would you ever know?

“Tell me your most perverted fantasy”, you might challenge him.

And he’d tell you something just kinky enough to demonstrate he did have an erotic imagination, but bland enough that he wouldn’t risk being perceived as some kind of sexual monster.

“Er… I’d like to fuck you in the bottom”, he’d venture.

The opportunity to really remove your masks passes. And secretly you’re both rather disappointed.

Sometimes, in sensitive negotiations you need a proxy. A go-between.

Like stories.

Instead of asking your partner to bare their erotic soul to you, send them a story. Add a simple comment: “I loved this!”

You want to provoke him into asking the magic question: “Which bit?”

And then you tell him. Not your fantasy. Not what you want him to do to you. But the part of the story where you wish it had been you. Perhaps it’s the part where a slave is intimately inspected in the public marketplace before being bought and taken back to her new owner’s farm in chains.

Let your partner connect the dots. Let him find the parts that excite him too. There’s no need to justify or explain your fantasy in explicit detail, it can remain implicit. The story is just a starting point, a common frame of reference. Something you can improvise from.

“Hmmm. Maybe we should buy some cuffs…”

“Oh please Sir! Not the basement!”

Characters in erotic stories are like costumes for you to slip into. Ready-written screenplays that you can just act out, with an element of plausible deniability if needed, allowing you both to continue to pretend you’re nice and not at all perverted – if that’s what you need to. 

You were both just playing a part. And the story told you to do it.

Sexual Perspectives

Anatomy, gender, dominance and sexuality are completely orthogonal things – one does not imply anything about the other, unless you want it to.

Everyone gets to decide how these sexual concepts are related, this this their sexual preference. The open-minded will be comfortable with a diverse range of connections between these concepts. Those who are sexually conservative have a very narrow view of what’s permissible. What a pity.

My previous post generated some interesting messages, so I thought I’d expand on the concept. It’s clear that when it comes to sex, many get very anxious indeed about what’s ‘right’ and ‘normal’. Which is why some folks’ sex lives are driven by a need for validation, a need for conformity, rather than what actually turns them on.

Because if your notions of sexuality are rigid, any experimentation might be considered perverse or shameful, unfeminine or emasculating.

To me though, different sexual preferences and identities are just costumes. This is why I’m able to compose erotic fiction and most never attempt it. It’s what enables me to flit into the minds of the characters I create so easily. And why many who read my stories are still convinced I’m actually a woman.

Remember, there’s no ideal. No universal sexual preference. If you’re pansexual,and  happy to try anything with anyone, that’s lovely, and I wish you a lovely time. Personally, I’m not. I do have my own preferences, just as others have theirs. 

Perversion isn’t a sexual preference beyond your own preferences. Perversion is overstepping the consensual boundaries of others.

Consider an example of what a simple change of perspective might bring.

What if a woman was to use her phallic dildo ‘the wrong way around’ – with the base between her legs, so it juts out proudly, just as if she had an erection?

Perhaps the base will permit the phallus to be slipped inside her slit, or she’ll keep it in place by squeezing her thighs together. Now she can stroke her new penis just like men do, transferring her juices to its shaft, making it slick and slippery. How many women ever play with their dildos like that? As a way of changing their sexual identity, rather than just a means of physical stimulation.

What might happen, as she grinds herself against the shaft, or feels its base push deeper inside her, if all kinds of transgressive fantasies begin to fill her mind?

Like, what do men fantasise about? Perhaps she’s imagining herself in the mind of her first boyfriend, as he imagines all the things he wanted to do to her. Such a naughty boy, wanking in bed each night, longing to plunge this big stiff cock into her tight little slit.

Isn’t that interesting. Now, instead of using her dildo to fill herself, she’s magically switched perspectives, so now she’s imagining herself being filled. She can see herself as others might see her, as an object of sexual desire.

Perhaps she might go further, and imagine what it would be like to actually do the fucking. What it would have been like if she’d told him to bend over, and lubricated his bottom hole with her juices. What it would be like to stand behind him, her hardness throbbing between his firm cheeks, before pushing her own phallus into his tight little hole.

Anatomy, gender, dominance and sexuality. Just a minor change of perspective on one, and suddenly, everything can become fluid. And new possibilities suddenly open.

Not everything needs to change, of course, it might only be a subtle shift. A submissive woman with her dildo between her legs can still be spanked like a naughty boy. Perhaps ‘he’ got an erection in class, and now ‘he’ must be inspected and punished just like any other naughty boy, stiff penis and bottom hole examined before and after a good hard whacking. Perhaps the disciplinarian will be merciful afterwards, sliding a finger into ‘his’ spanked bottom, and reaching round to work ‘his’ shaft until ‘he’ comes.

If you own a vulva and a dildo, why not try this experiment for yourself. Pull down your panties, and place the dildo against your mound, like you had an erection. How does that change your sexual expectations? If you lie back, with the dildo held between your thighs, how does that affect what you fantasise about?

There is no wrong way. Only a thousand new possibilities to play, waiting for your mind to venture further.

Some readers might recognise this idea, it’s the theme of my story Grimoire:

Every night I take my precious book from its little metal haven. I lie back on my bed, turning to a random page, and read some centuries-old words under my breath like a magic incantation. Then I close my eyes, and I am transported.

You would never believe the wonders I have seen. My feeble descriptions do them pathetically little justice.

My grimoire is not just the scribbled memories of long-ago spankings, it is a portal into the minds of ancient witnesses. Through it I have shared the thoughts of hundreds of men and women, boys and girls. I have seen every flavour of cruelty and compassion, power and authority, dominance and submission. I have explored every aspect of eroticism and sexuality, from the coy to the explicit, from the mediocre to the sublime.

Through it, I know what it’s like to be a man, how it feels to secretly stiffen as you spank a beautiful arse, how it feels to see her folds winking back between her kicking legs, and the frustration of knowing you can not have her. Through it I have experienced the glorious sensation of reaching between hot spanked cheeks to find her soaking wet, the delight of being absolutely rigid, and the epiphany of slipping inside her slick tight hole.

Through it, I have given and received the tender love of women.

I have loved a man through the eyes of a man.

I have been unsure of my gender and loved regardless.

I have experienced pleasure in outrageously decadent balls, parties and orgies.

I have lost and taken others’ innocence.

I have disciplined out of love and out of anger.

I have spanked to punish and spanked to pleasure.

I have explored the erotic ingenuities of tying up.

I have induced unexpected climaxes in girls and boys with skilful whackings.

I have bared the bottoms of princes and princesses.

I have scolded and seduced in a dozen different tongues.

And I have played all manner of secret games.

If only I could copy my little magic book of spanking, and show humanity its sexuality as others have seen it.

Doesn’t that sound like a idea worth encouraging?

Although I’m a cis woman, I really like being referred to by male pronouns in sexual situations, or even called a good boy. Sometimes, just putting on male clothing gets me really turned on. How normal would you say this is? I don’t quite know what to make of my kink. Love your blog, thank you for answering so many sex-related questions ❤️

It’s perfectly normal.

That’s the wonderful thing about roleplay. You can be whoever you want to be, whenever you want to be. 

Who says the characters you enjoy inhabiting have to be the same gender as your anatomy?

Dressing up is a common fantasy, and cross-dressing is a very popular activity. How cool is it, that clothes, like words, are capable of transporting your consciousness into another character’s mind? As if you were donning an enchanted mask, granting you the power to momentarily experience reality through another’s eyes.

Personally, as a straight cis male, I prefer to play with those who have a vulva. But I find it thrilling to discipline gamine women who dress up as tomboys. It’s a delight to be able to construct a shared fantasy where I scold them as naughty little boys, and address them using male names. When I pull down their shorts or trousers, it doesn’t matter that I see a smooth bare slit when I pull down their underpants.

I’ve also hugely enjoyed playing a headmistress and an Edwardian governess too. I can be just as strict wearing women’s clothes, because to me it’s just a costume, not a sexuality transplant.

It’s actually quite exciting to be called Miss. To discipline a girl with a maternal compassion, or with a schoolmistress’s sternness. To undress and inspect her, because “you’ve seen it all before”. All whilst having an erection beneath one’s skirt, which we all do our best not to acknowledge.

So, there’s nothing wrong with your kink (or mine). Imagine how dull your fantasy life would be if you could only ever be you. Instead we have access to a vast wardrobe of virtual sexual personas. We can be someone new for a night, whenever we choose. It’s close to magic.

Isn’t that profoundly wonderful?

Enchanted Masks

What power there is in words when they are capable of transporting
your consciousness into another character’s mind. As if you were donning
an enchanted mask, granting you the power to momentarily experience
reality through another’s eyes.

Characters in stories are
not contrivances. They are meticulously crafted, as vessels for readers’
imaginations to inhabit. Here resides a wardrobe of virtual costumes to dress up in, and play in.

Enchanted Masks

What power there is in words when they are capable of transporting
your consciousness into another character’s mind. As if you were donning
an enchanted mask, granting you the power to momentarily experience
reality through another’s eyes.

Characters in stories are
not contrivances. They are meticulously crafted, as vessels for readers’
imaginations to inhabit. Here resides a wardrobe of virtual costumes to dress up in, and play in.

Name the Houses

Like all good boarding schools, the upcoming Spanking Theatre School group will consist of four Houses, into which each pupils will be assigned.

The four houses will represent the four categories described in this post:

https://medium.com/@spankingtheatre/how-to-create-characters-in-erotic-stories-50cf58980799

Namely:

The Royals – those who appreciate dominance and order

The Seducers – those who seek the favour of authority and prefer chaos

The Watchers – those with a submissive inclination who obey the rules

The Troublemakers – those with no respect for authority or its stupid rules

Given the group is going to be a collaborative fantasy, I’m going to ask readers to name the houses. Perhaps you’ll choose an alluring word, or an animal, or a made-up name, or something mythological. Post or reply with your suggestions!

Treasure Hunt

spankingtheatre:

A bedtime story for those who still love to play

She’d been so close!
Agonisingly close!
She’d frantically scrambled around the utility room as the buzzing between her legs rose to a dizzying crescendo. Trying to retain her composure, to resist the temptation to sink to her knees and let the delicious wave of pleasure wash over her. All the while, he stood behind her holding the magic wand, chuckling at her slapstick search, gleefully reminding her that her time was almost up.

Moments later, the bell rang – and the vibrations between her legs abruptly stopped.
She squealed, emptying her lungs in frustration.
She had lost again. And that meant another visit to the spanking chair.
Rules were rules.

By tradition, the first Friday night of each month was Treasure Hunt night. The game had evolved over all the years they’d been together, and would now undoubtedly shock their friends with its brazen kinkiness and erotic inventiveness.

The objective of the game was simple. An object would be hidden somewhere in the house, and the seeker had six minutes to find it, all the while being shepherded by the devilishly distracting sensations of the remote control vibrator…

Keep reading

Next in the alphabetical retrospective of past stories is Treasure Hunt.

The previous post served as an appropriate prelude, as the central theme of this story is playfulness, the switch couple have invented their own little naughty game, with the winner taking charge for a night, in what has become a series of increasingly outrageous sex games.

This will be a familiar theme if you’ve my posts on the naughty well-behaved, and the secret of sexual spontaneity.

Fundamentally, this is a story about building your own sexual reality. It is a quest to discover what really turns your partner on, because really, that’s the greatest aphrodisiac of all.

But the very best sexual experiences often involve activities experienced for the very first time. Sometimes we don’t really know what we desire, and are reluctant to spell out what we want. And there is great pleasure in being surprised. That’s only possible inside a strong partnership, committed to continuing exploration and experimentation.

Those discoveries are the true Treasure.

And they’re well worth the Hunt.

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