tagFetishDavid's Upskirt Theatre

David's Upskirt Theatre

byThorilla©

The 'English Upskirt Theatre Company' was founded in 2002 and is located in Awnstonely Crumbling, a village in the heart of rural Northamptonshire. The primary aim of the theatre is to extend the boundaries of the 'theatre in the round'. Where previously the proscenium arch had been literally swept away to allow the audience to sit around the actors and theatrical productions, the 'English Upskirt Theatre Company' allows the audience access to the 'underside' of the performance.

A further dimension is therefore available for theatre audiences who literally crave a different angle.

The relatively small, experimental, three hundred seater theatre was designed by Lutyenson Hutchard Associates, a well known and respected architectural design practice based in Guernsey. They have been responsible for various 'upskirt' installations and staircases including the infamous open glass staircase and glass ramp outside Fromington Registry Office in central London which often features in 'lads-mags' and 'photo-share' web sites and blogs.

Merced Hutchard, the inventor of both 'steel-glass' and 'reflecto-glass' was commissioned by The British Theatre Society to build an experimental glass stage which could be underlit via a complex fibre optical control system. With David Lutyenson, as auditorium designer, their first mock-up was eventually built in an abandoned television studio in Hammersmith in the mid 1990s.

The result was impressive. The tiny audience of selected distinguished theatre goers were allowed to experience a theatrical adaptation of a Dickensian novel in three dimensions. The success was immediate. Theatre critics congratulated the company on the accuracy of the period costumes, particularly the actresses' petticoats, stockings and underdrawers.

At Awnstonely Crumbling the audience is allocated two tickets, one for the understage auditorium which seats 60 and one for the main auditorium which seats 200. Because of the nature of the productions put on, audiences may opt to transfer between seats only during scene changes and intervals which are often fairly predictable and frequent.

The English Upskirt Theatre Company's productions of 'Oklahoma' and 'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers' normally require careful choreography to allow the understage audience as many opportunities of seeing up the actresses' skirts and petticoats as possible.

More recent adaptations allow the understage audience to wander at will, in other words, the normal reclining seats with binoculars are removed completely.

The 'English Upskirt Theatre Company's' versions of 'Hairspray' and 'Grease' have often been abridged to only include the more energetic dance sequences, and more recent adaptations have ditched the male cast completely.

Jane Austen's and the Bronte Sisters' novels have been rewritten to exclude male characters. 'English Upskirt Theatre Company's' 'Sense and Sensibility' is a far more rewarding experience now that the audience is allowed access to the underside of 'Empire' style dresses. One may, for example, wander about beneath an actresses feet, at will, and enjoy as many glimpses of her lace trimmed petticoats or frilly bloomers as is physically possible.

I took my girlfriend to see a production of Bizet's Carmen last June at the EUTC. It took us a while to find the theatre as it was badly signposted. After several wrong turns we eventually entered the pretty Northamptonshire village and parked my silver Mercedes in the large central car park.

The theatre building blended well with the local landscape being partially concealed in a mound. Existing mature oak trees had been retained wherever possible.

Entering the theatre we walked above a small shallow swale over a long glass ramped bridge.

Two eighteen year old farm hands sat on a bench beneath us clearly 'knicker spotting' the audience. I told Emma to stand still and pretend she was admiring the view and allow her mini kilt and petticoat to blow open for them. I left her listening to their wolf whistles and other encouraging, if not coarse and sexually explicit, comments.

"You bastard David Shaw," she mouthed at me as we walked in.

The entrance floor was constructed in 'reflecto-glass' which allowed me a good view up Emma's skirt and up the white flared pleated skirts of the theatre staff who were all dressed like Marilyn Monroe in the 'Severn Year Itch'. The staff wore 1950s style French knickers although, to protect their modesty, they wore tighter white panties underneath. I noticed these in detail while spending time retying my shoelaces in front of them.

A glass staircase led down to the understage auditorium. Another glass stairway took one to an upper gallery. The main auditorium was at ground level where we had our allocated seats.

We took our seats and I noticed that even the auditorium floor was made of glass and I became aware that several pairs of eyes in the understage area were staring up Emma's revealing tartan pleated skirt. Fortunately other members of the audience arrived after us, several of whom were wearing full skirted, net-petticoated evening gowns and they appeared to distract the attention of the perverts beneath us.

Emma stood up to remove her jacket and several new faces appeared beneath her. I told her that we should have really obtained a programme to spread on the floor to maintain her decency. I could hear the five minute bell ring as the auditorium finally filled up.

The production was well received and I had availed myself of every opportunity to examine in detail the 'eponymous' Carmen's underwear from the understage auditorium. Her petticoats and baggy knickers were remarkably detailed.

Emma was unsure of the validity of the production. She guided me towards the premise that Bizet had written the opera only to be seen from two dimensions, and that his target audience were the then 'nouveau riche' of contemporary society, escaping the constrictions and societal expectations of traditional 'Classic' operatic genre, namely those of W.A. Mozart, and more recently Verdi and Puccini.

She referred me to 'Kobbe's Concise Opera Guide' which I was familiar with having experienced all French, German and Italian opera since I was seventeen.

I tried to curtail her diagnosis by pointing out that Carmen had had a great arse before she died on stage. Her knickers were well trimmed in English broderie and eyelet lace and the props department were in need of a pay rise, should their lingerie department require detailed accreditation I would have been happy to confirm the accuracy of their period costumes.

The bustle appeared to have made two impacts upon Victorian fashion and the subtleties of the inter-regnum probably were lost, The 1870s and 1880s were the two periods when the bustle was 'queen' of fashion and when gentlemen were clearly directed towards Madame's ebullient derrieres.

Carmen was penned in 1875 at the height of the bustle fashion although Carmen's character of a gypsy girl clearly allowed Bizet to allow his audiences views of raised Flamenco skirts and wild lacy petticoats. I told Emma that the spectacle would have probably driven the contemporary male audience to 'self-abuse themselves into oblivion' had they remained longer in the theatre. In truth their manhoods would have been exposed to their paramours for relief in the taxicabs home, while the younger men may have borrowed a chambermaid for the evening or even persuaded their nurse or nanny to provide manual satisfaction.

I told Emma that I thought the Upskirt Carmen was a worthy project and merely reflected the advancement of the expectations of modern society and was a valid theatrical statement.

Emma then asked me whether she could facesit me and I agreed. Eight miles from Awnstonely Crumbling I found an isolated field entrance in the middle of rural Northamptonshire. I parked the large Merc and lowered the front seats so that they were both horizontal.

Emma got out and peed behind the nearest hedge while removing her knickers. I lay back on the passenger seat while she climbed into the rear seat. I lowered my trousers and boxers to knee level.

Emma shifted her 22 year old arse, inside her flared mini kilt and matching flared white nylon petticoat, over my 67 year old face and proceeded to grind herself over me, bringing herself ever closer to orgasm.

My puny body had suffered so much facesitting abuse over my lifetime but was never satisfied until my abuser had reached her climactic peak.

Emma, above me, whimpered out a gentle but insistent orgasm, followed by a violent juddering. My face experienced vaginal slime and a strong pheromone sensual attack. She sat up, her mini kilt hiding my face.

She adjusted her makeup and combed her long dark hair, sliding her long legs off me only when through. I wiped precum off me and belted up. We drove back to Cranleigh.

At a petrol station I met a strange looking American chap wearing a threadbare suit and badly scuffed shoes, He said his name was Russ Baumann and muttered something about getting back to Chicago.

He showed me a battered remote control which he said was a 'FutureTime Remote'. To be honest I thought he was completely insane so avoided further conversation although I was interested in his addiction to underskirt-facesitting.

Clearly we had something in common.

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byThorilla© 4 comments/ 50119 views/ 2 favorites

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