Audience Participation

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Stripping and Humiliation

Don’t get dragged on the stage


Julia looked around nervously. She hadn't got a ticket for the play. She had really wanted to see it. She loved farces and Dick Tremayne was her absolute favourite. But when she tried to book a seat she had been too late. They'd all gone.


Then she had had the brilliant idea. She remembered that day when she had forgotten her ticket. In desperation she had just walked brazenly into the auditorium. Nobody stopped her. A couple of minutes before the show was about to start there were still a few vacant seats, hers no doubt, and two or three inevitable no-shows due to illness or whatever. She had just sat in one of the empty seats. It was that easy.


And so the thought had occurred to her. Why not do the same again? There were always no-shows. All she had to do was sneak into the auditorium, wait till the last minute and grab an empty seat. It was that easy.


She was a shy retiring girl and it would take some nerve, but if she steeled herself, she might just get away with it!




Bare Faced Cheek was a show that had proved immensely popular. Old fashioned bedroom farce had been out of fashion for so long it had been due a comeback, and Bare Faced Cheek had it all - men losing their trousers, vicars hiding in cupboards and girls caught in their underwear; all mixed in with the usual combination of slapstick, knockabout and naughty innuendo. It had the audience rolling in the aisles.


For Dick it had been the role that had breathed new life into a flagging career. He played Spencer, a man caught at the end of Act One (due to the ever evolving convolutions of the plot) impersonating a vicar with his pants down in a hotel room, while the room maid (improbably reduced to her bra and knickers) was hiding under the table and his wife was banging on the door. It was a dilemma which the play resolved in a highly original and amusing fashion.


For up and coming comedienne Dora Briggs the chance to appear on stage with Dick, even if she had no lines and ended up in nothing but her underwear, was one not to be missed. After all it required good comic acting and got her seen on stage.


But today things had gone wrong. Dora was nowhere to be seen. She had now played the role over fifty times and each time at the climax of the scene Dick's hands had gone further and further down her bosom; until the last time when he had positively rubbed her nipples - there on stage in front of a whole audience. Not, of course that the audience knew anything of it, and it was impossible for Dora to say anything; but she wasn't having it any more. She was gone, and with only twenty minutes to go before curtain up Dick was fuming to the producer.


"What do you mean there's no understudy!"


"We didn't think it necessary. It's a small non-speaking part. Not essential to the plot. We can cut it."


"Like hell you can cut it. It might not be essential to the plot but it's essential to the production. It's the climax to the first act! It sends the audience out hooting with laughter. Go get somebody. Tell them what to do. It's not difficult."


Nigel Rafferty, producer and Mister Fix-It of the show, long time in the business though he'd been, knew when he was beaten. Dick Tremayne wasn’t the easiest of people and if you wanted a good performance from him you did what he said.


He went in search of someone who didn't mind being seen on stage in her underwear. Not that anything untoward would be seen. Maiden aunts roared and laughed at this scene. Stage underwear was thick, sturdy and as respectable as a swimsuit. It was just the fact of her being seen in it, and what happened next, that was so funny!


He would get Clive, his assistant, to look out one of the girl ASM's. These assistant stage managers were all budding actresses looking for a break. One of them would be bound to jump at the chance.




Julia was getting worried; there were still five minutes to go before the play started and the theatre was packed. She couldn't see an empty seat in the house.


Nervously she scanned the stalls from front to back and then at last she saw it. One empty seat. A minute before curtain up! Not in an ideal place, but the owner wouldn't be coming now. She rushed along the row and apologizing to the people she passed thankfully installed herself, just as the lights went down and the curtain went up.




Dick Tremayne didn't let his annoyance over the absence of Dora spoil his performance. Indeed he had been getting bored with feeling up Dora; he would enjoy having a feel of one of the pretty young ASM's. Cut the scene! Not bloody likely.


The plot of Bare Faced Cheek was as complicated as the plots of British farces usually are.


In order to obtain an inheritance Spencer has to meet an attractive young lawyer in a hotel room in London disguised as a vicar - a fact which he wishes to keep secret from his wife as she is convinced (quite rightly) that Spencer has a secret crush on the lawyer. Not unnaturally Spencer wishes to impress the young lady and orders a lavish meal to be delivered to his room.


The meal, including an unaccountably large and wobbly pink blancmange, is wheeled in on an enormous table by a rather clumsy room maid who then (naturally) spills hot food all over her uniform. This of course, being a farce, results in Spencer offering to clean up the uniform and the maid being stranded in her underwear. At this point the scene which is to close the act commences. There is a loud knock at the door.




Julia would have been enjoying the play immensely but for one thing. Her seat, the only one left in the theatre at curtain up, was slap in the middle of the front row.


She had looked on in horror as two or three times in the first act Spencer or Dick (as Dick sort of came in and out of character) had descended from the stage and chosen members of the audience to help the supposed Spencer out of some catastrophe on stage.


The aim of course was to get the audience hooting at the embarrassment of the poor victims from the audience as Dick made fun of the antics he got them to perform. There's nothing more funny than other people's embarrassment and the audience safe from row B to the back of the gods roared and laughed.


There was of course another reason to get the audience participation which Dick knew and the audience, including Julia, didn't. Poor Julia sat there petrified lest she be dragged up. She was mortifyingly shy. If she had known the risk she would never have grabbed that seat in Row A. It was perhaps a just punishment for sneaking in without a ticket.




The knocking at the door turned to loud banging and the look on Spencer's face turned from eager anticipation to horror (which Dick feigned very well) as the voice of his wife could be heard from outside.


Oh calamity! As the saying goes in farce. Spencer is unaccountably dressed as a vicar and he is in the company of a pretty young girl wearing nothing but bra and panties. His wife mustn't catch him like this. He hurriedly pushes the scantily clad girl under the table and starts to unfasten his trousers with the aim of getting out of the vicar's attire.


One might not, in real life, remove the trousers first when getting undressed, but in a farce it is essential that the hero's pants fall down at a crucial point in the action. Well it wouldn't be farce without that, would it?




It was at this point that Dick stopped the action again. Another reluctant participant was to be dragged up on stage to help the unfortunate Spencer get out of his latest scrape.


Julia looked on in horror as Dick came down the steps from the stage, trousers unbuttoned, but still thankfully in place, his eye fixed resolutely on her.


She knew it. She just knew it. Retribution for her crime was at hand. She was going to be chosen, and she couldn't object. After all, she hadn't got a ticket!


Dick looked at the girl in A28. Excellent choice. She looked suitably shy and embarrassed. She would do nicely. He didn't ask. He just held out his hand.


"What's your name lovely young lady?" he said.


"Julia," she stammered taking his hand automatically.


"Well, Julia," he replied, "What a lovely name. Are you going to help get out of this little pickle?"


"Yes," stammered Julia again. After all, what choice did she have?


Julia found herself dragged up the stairs, the hoots of the audience ringing in her ears as they revelled in anticipation of the discomfiture to be heaped on yet another reluctant victim.


"Now Miss Julia," said Dick smiling. This girl had been an excellent choice, just the right mixture of prettiness and ordinariness. She was under average height, a round face, short black hair, nicely rounded and perhaps just a little on the plump side. Yes, she had been an excellent choice.


"Now Miss Julia. I need to have a lady lawyer with me when my wife comes in. She expects me to be with a sexy young girl and I need her to find me with you instead."


The audience roared and laughed. The subtle insult hadn't gone unnoticed. It had them in stitches.


Julia nodded.


"That's right," said Dick, "Just play yourself."


The audience roared again and Julia nodded her head.


"Quickly now Julia. My wife mustn't catch you. You have to hide. Under the table with you."


Julia's eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open. What a lovely look of surprise thought Dick. She was doing great.


"Quickly," and he pushed Julia down on all fours.


Poor Julia. She was mortified. Down on her hands and knees, her ample behind in the air and her short skirt riding up. The audience would be able to see her knickers!


Julia regretted more than ever the shortness of her skirt and the nature of her underwear. Somewhat self-conscious of her none too slim figure she wore what is generally termed a body-form teddy. For those of you who are not wholly conversant with ladies underwear (and there must be some) this is a one-piece undergarment or cami-knicker which combines a body holding bust support, a tummy firming bodice and bottom firming panties. Julia, who felt her bottom would otherwise look big in everything, never wore anything else when she went out for the evening.


Of course, this being a one-piece garment, split-crotch panties were essential to permit an interval pee without the need to get undressed completely!


On top of this she wore her going-out dress; figure-hugging, strapless and short; it was her one little admission of the extrovert girl inside struggling to escape from the constraints of the desperately shy girl outside.


This was why as she stuck her head under the table and into the pantied behind of the girl already there; the audience hooted even louder. Julia's split-crotch panties were on view to everybody.


Julia heard the door open.


"Here is she?"


The voice of Spencer's wife rang through the theatre.


"Who? I don't know who you mean dear!"


Dick, milking the scene for all it was worth was pushing Julia's behind to try and get her further under the table. It was a nice, firm and pleasingly ample behind. He was enjoying himself.


“I mean that Hussy you arranged to meet here!” the voice of that grand dame of the theatre Alicia Thornton in one of her favourite roles rang out loud and clear again.




“Yes Hussy! That Hussy,” Alicia had come round to the front of the table where Julia’s panties, stretched tightly across her ample behind were clearly visible. She pointed at the offending derriere.


“That’s just Julia dear,” Dick winked at the audience.


“Julia indeed! Well we’ll just see about that!” Alicia grabbed Julia by the waist and pulled the mortified girl out from under the table; her eyes opening wide at the sight of the split crotch panties as she did so.


“Just as I thought. A little Hussy!”


She dragged Julia to her feet and the audience gasped as she fetched her a stinging slap across the cheek.


Poor Julia just stood rooted to the spot as the next few seconds passed as if in slow motion.


“Just see what happens to little Hussies,” Alicia leant over the table and picked up the large pink blancmange. Dick stepped forwards to stop her and as he did so in true farcical fashion his trousers dropped to his ankles and he fell forwards his hands outstretched towards Julia.


The audience held its breath in anticipation.



“Well done Clive,” Nigel the producer was standing in the wings watching the climax to the first act as he liked to do every night, “that ASM you got to do Dora’s part is magnificent!” The audience hadn’t quite cottoned on that the so-called Julia from the audience was just a plant – but they soon would. The trick of course was to condition the audience by using genuine audience members originally. Then they would never even think the last girl was an actress pretending to be an audience member


“ASM? What ASM?” said his assistant, “None of the ASAM’s would do it. I thought we go going to cut.... Oh bloody hell!”


The two of them looked on from the wings in horror. Dick had got a genuine member of the audience up and they both knew exactly what was going to happen next.”




Dick knew exactly what was going to happen as well. The little ASM they’d got to stand in had a lovely pair of dumplings and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass.


Julia just stood there rendered immobile by the slap on the face, as Dick, in his practiced stage tumble, staggered towards her; his hands reached out, and with a facility born of years of practice they slipped down the front of her dress and firmly grasped her dumplings.


Poor Julia, her face stinging and her dumplings being honked like a pair of motor horns stood rooted to the spot.


Then came the great finale to the first act. The thing that would send the audience into the bars roaring with laughter; he tumbled theatrically to the floor bringing the little ASM’s strapless dress down to the floor with him.


Julia shrieked. His hands had not only been inside her dress, they had been inside the bodice of her one piece body-former cami-knicker. The whole lot had come down leaving her stark naked, lit up on the stage of the Variety Theatre in front of a thousand hooting members of the audience on whom it had just dawned that this was a plant!


Alicia, blancmange in hand scowled. The little ASM was trying to upstage her was she! She was supposed to be dressed in stage undies and here she was disporting herself naked. She had just been going to get the blancmange. Now she was going to get the lot. With one swift action the blancmange went in Julia’s face, followed by the custard over her head, and the gravy over everything.


To gales of laughter Julia stood spotlit and nude on the stage, blancmange dripping off her nose, custard matting her hair and gravy running down her dumplings, taking the applause of the audience.


Tears of embarrassment ran down her face. She could think of only one thing. Her bottom must have looked enormous when she was pushed under the table.

Submitted: August 20, 2020

© Copyright 2022 Joex. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Darius McCray

Well done

Thu, August 20th, 2020 6:35pm


What a creative story. Loved it!

Sun, August 23rd, 2020 2:08am

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