Some readers made it clear that my effort to tell a story from the woman's point of view in the first chapter of "Sharon" was less than successful. While I'm loath to continue in error, I did leave the story hanging. What follows is the conclusion of Sharon's story. This story mentions some real organizations, institutions, and places. They are used here fictitiously and, I think, respectfully. Insofar as I know, no real persons associated with those organizations and institutions have acted as my characters act in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person is coincidental and unintended. Comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable, are always welcome.
*****
Sharon felt Ron getting out of bed. She opened her eyes part-way and saw sunlight streaming into her hotel room. "What time is it?" she asked.
"8:30," Ron said. "I need to go back to my room to get fresh clothes and shave," he added. "Do you want to get breakfast somewhere?" Ron asked.
Sharon was fully awake now and remembered that they had agreed to meet Carol and Mike at Dominion Paradise Club at 11:00 a.m. "Breakfast sounds like a great idea," Sharon replied.
"If we meet in the lobby in 45 minutes, does that give you enough time to get ready?" Ron asked.
"Of course," Sharon replied with a slight laugh. "I'm a police officer."
Ron pulled on his clothes from the previous day, which he had neatly folded over a chair in Sharon's room, and left. Sharon sat up in bed, letting the bedding fall away from her bare upper body. The drapes on her window were open. Sharon didn't care if someone in another building saw her bare breasts. People had seen a lot more of her yesterday. More importantly, Ron had seen all of her and seemed to like what he'd seen. Ron had also made love to her. Sharon thought that what they had done at the Club, and especially what they'd done in her room earlier that morning, was too tender and caring to call it just having sex.
Sharon hopped out of bed and took a quick shower. She decided that she didn't need to wash her hair. She pulled out the print dress she'd worn on Wednesday from the room's small closet. She decided it would do well enough; it would have to because she hadn't brought that many clothes. Sharon pulled a clean bra and panties from her suitcase. She had a thought, giggled, and put the underwear back. She pulled the dress over her bare body and buttoned it up the front.
Sharon walked to the full-length mirror in her room. Looking at herself in the print dress, she thought that she was safe going without underwear. The hem of the dress hit her about mid-thigh. It would take a strong breeze to push the dress high enough to expose her. However, the thought that could happen excited Sharon. She looked at herself in the mirror again. It was, she thought, apparent that she wasn't wearing a bra. Still, she didn't really need one and she was decently covered. She glanced at the window for a moment then looked back in the mirror. "Constable Dawson," she thought, "you look damn good." She felt invincible. Smiling, she sat on the bed and put on a comfortable pair of walking shoes.
They had almost two hours before they were to meet Carol and Mike, so Ron led Sharon on a longish walk to the Queen's Quay waterfront. As they walked the downtown Toronto streets that Sunday morning, the confidence Sharon had felt in her room evaporated. "I'm being unforgivably silly," Sharon thought. "I'm a police officer! What the hell am I doing walking around a strange city wearing a thin dress with nothing on underneath? Worse, I fucked another officer from my own Force. The guys all tell each other stories about their sexual conquests, real or imagined. Of course, Ron will tell his buddies, and they'll their buddies, and the entire Force will know everything we did here within 48 hours after we're back in Vancouver. Jesus! I fucked up that badly just to get laid?"
Ron led the way into a restaurant that had tables on an outdoor patio looking out on the water. Sharon responded to Ron's attempts to start conversation with monosyllables. It took Sharon a moment to realize that Ron had become more serious. "Of course," Ron was saying, "we have to submit a report to Tibbits with a copy to McAllister. I suggest we submit a joint report that contains what we observed that relates to our mission. There is no need for anyone but us to know what we did that didn't directly lead to our conclusions."
Ron paused. Sharon was now giving him her undivided attention. What he'd just said allayed her concerns, slightly. She wanted to know what he was going to say next.
Ron reached across the table and lightly put his hand on top of Sharon's. For the first time since she'd met him, Ron suddenly didn't seem so self-assured. "Um, this trip," Ron said hesitantly, "well, I hope that it isn't just a fling. You are an extraordinary woman Sharon Dawson. I really want to keep seeing you once we get home to Vancouver."
Sharon's first thought was "Of course he'd say that." Looking into his face, Sharon decided that Ron was being sincere. Ron Crewes was the kind of man who engendered trust. Sharon decided that she would trust him, besides, she already had. Sharon smiled at Ron and said, "I'm very glad you said that. I'd like to keep seeing you too." Corny and sudden as it may sound, commitments were made that morning both ways.
Sharon and Ron finished their breakfast and Ron paid the bill. Sharon's confidence was returning. She was again looking forward to another day naked with Ron, Carol, Mike, and whomever else might be at DPC on that beautiful day.
Sharon and Ron still had forty minutes until they were to meet Carol and Mike when they left the restaurant on Queen's Quay. DPC was only about a twenty-minute walk away. Sharon was so eager that she was walking very fast. Finally, Ron gently took hold of her arm and said, "Please slow down. You're wearing me out." Sharon turned to face Ron and realized that he wasn't criticizing but was just trying to keep them from getting to DPC before it opened. Sharon took Ron's hand. The two of them kept walking towards DPC at a slower pace. They held hands the entire way.
Sharon and Ron arrived at DPC three minutes after 11:00 a.m. Carol and Mike were already waiting for them in the reception area. "I think we're the first people here today," Mike said.
"A good thing too," Carol added. "With today's weather, this place will be busy. Come on, I want to get my clothes off!"
Sharon and Ron followed Carol and Mike up to the second-floor locker room. Sharon and Ron took adjoining lockers. Ron had his back turned towards Sharon as she took off her shoes and began to unbutton her dress. When Sharon got about halfway down, she said, "Ron, please turn around." Ron turned. Sharon finished unbuttoning the dress and let it slide from her arms, leaving her completely nude. Ron's face lit up and he smiled. Coquettishly, Sharon said, "I left my lingerie off for you."
"Thank you," Ron said. "Too bad we didn't have any wind walking here."
"Ron!" Sharon exclaimed in mock indignation.
"You mean to tell me that you wouldn't have enjoyed it if you'd been exposed on a city street?" Ron asked.
Sharon mocked a look of contrition and said, "You're right. I'd have loved it."
From a few lockers down, Carol asked, "We didn't show you two the basement, did we?"
"No," Sharon replied. "What's down there?"
"A while back," Mike said, "someone got the idea that the Club could draw some of the BDSM crowd if it created a 'dungeon' in the basement. It didn't draw that crowd, but they've left the stuff down there. We're not into BDSM but the basement can be fun."
Sharon, Ron, Carol, and Mike, all nude and carrying their towels, squeezed into a small elevator car. They went down a couple of floors and the door opened on an almost completely dark room. Carol confidently stepped out of the elevator, into the dark, and flipped a switch on the wall.
Illuminated, Sharon saw that the walls of the room were painted black. On a table to the right of the elevator was a selection of whips and paddles. Carol led them to a large X-shaped frame that stood against one wall. She turned and backed up to the frame, raising her arms and spreading her legs to align with the arms of the X. Sharon noticed that there were short ropes attached towards the end of each arm of the frame.
"When I turned on the lights down here," Carol said, "it also turned on small red lights above the bars and in the locker room. That lets everyone else know that someone's down here. When you're tied up here, you're fully exposed and available to anyone else who comes in."
Carol stepped away from the X frame and walked over to a low piece that looked to Sharon like a Roman Chair sit-up bench without the place to secure your feet. Basically, it was a metal frame that came up to about waist height. On top of the frame was a padded bench upholstered with vinyl. The bench sloped up at about a 45 degree on one side and down at a sharper angle on the other. Sharon noticed that the bench was mounted on a base of thick plywood with straps attached near the corners of the base. "This is my favorite," Carol said. She turned her back to the others and bent herself over the bench. The shorter side of the bench with the steeper angle supported Carol's thighs. When she bent over, the other side of the bench supported her upper body. Carol's ass was at the apex, pointed towards Sharon, Ron, and Mike. Carol spread her legs so that her feet were next to the straps. That movement fully exposed her asshole and pussy. Sharon understood why Carol liked that device.
Mike grabbed a wet wipe from a dispenser on the wall and walked up behind Carol. "The house rules are that being strapped onto this or the X-frame means you consent to being touched with hands and fingers. Even this is ok," Mike said as he pushed his index finger into Carol's asshole.
Slightly muffled from being bent over, Carol said, "One of the beauties of this, apart from exposing you so fully, is that you can't see who is fingering you."
"A guy can't use his dick unless he specifically asks the woman strapped down and she unequivocally consents," Mike added.
"Wouldn't that get into 'he said, she said?'" Sharon asked.
Mike pulled his finger out of Carol's ass and wiped it as she stood up. "No," Carol said. She pointed to some small half-globes mounted on the ceiling. "Everything that happens down here is videoed and all sound is recorded. Believe me, that system picks up even whispers. If there's any dispute about consent, the audio and video will resolve it. I've never heard of there being a dispute."
Carol led them on to a large sheet of plywood that was standing up on end about three feet from a wall. It was about eight feet high and painted black. There were circular holes cut at various heights in the wood. Carol showed them the side of the wood facing the wall, which was covered in felt and which had ropes mounted to the top and bottom of the wood sheet. "Get it?" Carol asked.
"No," Sharon replied.
Carol led them back to face the front side of the wood sheet. "Mike?" Carol said. Mike went behind the sheet. A couple of moments later, his dick and balls appeared through one of the holes. Carol walked up to the sheet and put her hand around Mike's dick. "The rules are basically the same as for the other stations. You can fondle all you want. If you want to make the guy come, you must ask, and he must say 'yes.' "May I get you off Dear?" Carol asked Mike.
"Sure," Mike replied from behind the wood sheet.
