Story: Six Out of Seven

I realized it’s been quite a while since I last posted a story, so here’s one for your reading pleasure. This was one of the first Janey and Michelle stories. I wrote it originally for the soc.sexuality.spanking Short Story Contest in 2001. It’s veeerrrry loosely based on a true event (which is to say, I’d gone to a poetry reading with a friend, and the poet offered the statistic that inspired the story). And for the next half hour or hour, I kept harping on the statistic to the friend. Other than that, though, it’s all fictional. I was single at the time, for one thing, and for another, I’m actually very leery of public spankings.


Six Out Of Seven
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"Surveys indicate that one person in seven participates in some form of s/m sex," the poet commented. I listened to her poem, and then realized....

“Six out of seven people are vanilla?!" I whispered to Janey. "That can't be right!"

"Shhhhh, Michelle," Janey whispered. "Let people listen."

But as the poet left the stage, I had to repeat, “Six out of seven! No way!! A lot of people had to have lied."

"Michelle! Shut up!" A few heads turned our way.

"They *must* be lying," I consoled myself. I didn't think again about the statistic until we left. Every several minutes, as Janey and I sat in the café with our friends Liza and Sam, I would comment, “Six out of seven?! No way!!"

Janey rolled her eyes. "Michelle. We all heard. Be quiet."

"Nanny-nanny-boo-boo, you ca-an't make me."

"Stop being a brat and drink your coffee."

"I know you are, but what am I?"

As we waited for the train to go home, I commented again, “Six out of seven. No way!!"

"Michelle. Shut up. I mean it."

"Anybody want a peanut?" I asked, engaging in some subtle brattiness. "They had to be lying," I added.

Janey had finally had enough. "Why don't we find out?" she asked, her voice dangerous. "There are about fifty people in here. Let's see what they think."

"They wouldn't tell us!" I pointed out.

"No problem. Sam, Liza, you're both observant women. I want you to watch, and see how many people seem interested." Janey firmly grabbed my arm, and pulled me across her lap.

"Wait! Janey! What are you *doing*?!" I asked as quietly as I could, trying not to call attention to myself, draped across my girlfriend's lap.

Smack! Her hand cracked down, but over my shorts, it didn't make much noise. No one noticed. It was overalls, and she wouldn't take them off, not in public. Unfortunately, the shorts were baggy, and there was plenty of room to drag the legs up.

SMACK!! The slap reverberated through the station. SMACK!! I kept my face down, cheeks burning. SMACK!! SMACK!! Janey concentrated on the spanking. SMACK!!! I concentrated on being quiet. SMACK!!! SMACK!! After about a minute, Janey asked, "Do you two think you've got an accurate count?"

Liza smirked, "Yeah, I think we have pretty fair assessment."

Janey let go of me just as the train came. I hurried to be the first one on. The others followed me. Liza and Sam got seats halfway down the car from us. I glared out the window, and wouldn't look at Janey.

"So? What did you observe?" Janey asked the other two when we got to my house.
Liza and Sam giggled. "Janey, you won't like this, but Michelle was right. I'd say a good third of the people there were *quite* interested."

I smirked at Janey, stuck out my tongue, wiggled my hips, and said, "Ha-ha, ha-ha.
I was right, and you were wrong." And then I trotted upstairs.