Sharon’s Awakening – Part 6 – Returns Policy
Sharon’s Awakening – Returns Policy
“I thought I told you that there were no returns?” Mrs. Harbord’s tone was harsh and uncompromising. Sharon felt the blood rush to her cheeks. This situation was totally unfair. First Claire had put her in this awkward situation, and now this horrible woman was treating her like a child.
“It’s just that Claire said it was too harsh, and she was sure you would be able to take it back for a small restocking fee. We didn’t use it, I promise!”
A smile flitted momentarily across Mrs. Harbord’s pursed lips and then vanished.
“A restocking fee? And you haven’t used it? Well…let me think a moment.” She glanced down at her watch, and then stared at Sharon. The eyes seemed to pierce Sharon’s soul. “Actually, I think I might be able to accommodate you…just this time, mind you!”
She came around from behind the counter, and beckoned Sharon to follow her.
She opened a door to a passage, and motioned Sharon to enter the first door.
“Wait in there…someone will be here to get you shortly”
It seemed that the door had barely closed, before it was opened again. Sharon looked up, and was surprised to see the young lady who had accosted her at the shop yesterday. The lady’s face lit up; “OH !!! It’s you! I saw you here yesterday – remember me?”
The thought: “Who couldn’t” flashed through Sharon’s mind. “Yes, hi.” The greeting seemed banal and droll, but it didn’t dampen the enthusiasm of her visitor.
“Let me introduce myself; I am Tami, I help out here on Demo Days. I am thrilled you are playing today !”
Demo Days, Playing….the words tumbled around Sharon’s mind. What on earth was going on?
“Come, Sharon – you don’t mind if I call you that? I mean, you don’t need to be called by some hoity-toity title like Doctor or Professor…or Mrs. do you?”
Sharon smiled. “Sharon is just fine”
She let herself be led down the corridor and into a larger room. Her eyes grew wide as she eyed the trestle that stood ominously in the middle of the floor. It was solidly built, and its top bar was heavily padded and covered in a rich, brown, thick, leather. Sharon couldn’t take her eyes off it. Her eyes rested on a section of leather towards the one end that looked oiled and shiny. She approached it and ran her hands along it, taking in the smoothness and contrasting it with the harshness of the rest of the top,
Tami watched her reaction with amusement. “It’s from all the girly juices, silly!! Isn’t it funny how a good spanking seems to open the floodgates?”
Sharon stepped back, shocked. She instinctively brought her fingers up to her nose, but there was no obvious lingering scent. She looked around the room. Apart from the ominous trestle, and two huge wall mirrors at opposite ends of the room, the walls were bare and the room was unremarkable.
Tami looked down at the clipboard she was clutching. “So Mrs. Harbord says here that you will pay a restocking fee of three strokes in demo mode. After that, you can take the leather strap you were sent for and be on your way”
“Demo mode? What on earth do you mean?”, Sharon asked, looking at her blankly.
“You will see!! Now, do you want it on the bare, or across your panties?” The voice was unsympathetic, but friendly.
Sharon blushed. “I don’t see why on earth I should bare myself again! Three strokes? That seems excessive! And why would she want to cane me again ….I just don’t get it!”
Tami’s eyed Sharon, and then reached out to touch her shoulder.
“Look Sharon, I really suggest you take them on the bare. At least that way I can see what damage is being done” She leaned forward and whispered in Sharon’s ear. “I will try and avoid crossing yesterday’s welts; that can be agony!”
Sharon stepped back and gingerly lowered her panties.
“Your dress too! You can leave your sandals on, they won’t get in the way,” Tami chuckled. “In fact, they may help you present even better!”
Shrugging her frock off, Sharon stood self consciously next to the trestle and looked expectantly at Tami.
“Now what? You expect me to get onto that contraption where other woman have spread their personal fluids? Well, I won’t!”
Tami ignored her, and beckoned her over to one of the mirrors. She pulled a thick red marker from her pocket, and clicked off the cap.
“Let’s take a look, Sharon. I tell you what; you can mark on your own bum where you want me to aim for.”
She handed the pen over to the bemused Sharon and watched as the slender woman rotated slowly in front of the mirror. Mrs. Harbord’s ministrations from yesterday had resulted in a wash of bruises, manifesting themselves in reds, blues and purple hues.
“You want me to mark on my own backside where I want you to hit me?”
Sharon’s voice was incredulous. The nod she received confirmed her worst fears. She studied herself in the mirror; all the hours at the gym had certainly paid off. Looking over her shoulder, first at the mirror, and then at her body, she found two areas where the welts seemed well spaced, and tentatively dabbed red marks in the gaps.
Sharon desperately searched for other targets. A set of conflicting emotions flooded her, threatening to bring tears to her eyes. On the one hand, she felt grateful for being allowed to pick spots that would cause her less pain, but on the other, this had to be the most demeaning experience she had ever endured. She had reveled in the erotica she read where the recipient had to ask for the next stroke, but she had never dreamed that she would be in an even more humiliating situation: not only was each red mark she applied calling out: “Please may I have another ?”, but it was screaming out “Hit me here, please !”
She turned away from the mirror, and looked at Tami with pleading eyes “I can only find room for two, Tami! Please don’t give me more than that! I beg of you!”
“Ok, that gives me guidance for the first two – thanks for your help! We’ll worry about the third once when the time comes. Now let’s have you up here, and see how we get along.”
She looked gratefully at Tami, as her dress was draped over the shiny section of the leather and she allowed herself to be guided to the end of the trestle.
“Spread your feet wider Sharon.….now bend forward and lay the upper part of your body along the horse.”
Tami chuckled. “It’s lucky you are wearing high heels, else you would be on your tiptoes! Oh, my you present so well!”
Sharon sensed Tami, moving to her side, and then felt a broad strap settling gently on her back. Moments later, it was cinched tight, and she felt immobilized. Sharon looked into the mirror, and did a double take. Not only did her fear strained face stare back at her, but she could see the reflection of the mirror from the opposite wall. And staring at her from that one was her bottom. Her eyes were transfixed by the sight: the flesh garishly painted with bruises, her bottom hole seeming to wink grotesquely back at her, and a pair of aroused genitals signaling their in complicity in this deviant activity.
As her mind came to grips with what she was seeing, she thanked her stars that she was alone with only this strange girl Tami to see her predicament. Her trance was broken by the first cut finding it’s mark. The pain coursed through her body as she tried to rear up against the strap that held her so firmly down. She opened her eyes to see the reflection of her bottom waving wildly, desperately seeking relief.
As she settled, she felt Tami’s finger tap at her tortured bottom, and then heard Tami’s excited voice. “Perfect! I got it right on the mark! What a shot! Let’s try for the next. This one isn’t going to be so easy…much less room here.”
Sharon barely took in that awful sound of the cane cutting through the air. The crack against her flesh and the pain seemed to come simultaneously. She jerked up uncontrollably and felt the trestle shift beneath her. Her heels beat a tattoo as she desperately stamped her stilettos on the tiled floor. Wave after wave of agony reverberated around her buttocks as she desperately gyrated her hips, searching inconsolably for relief.
After what seemed hours, the pain slowly ebbed, and Sharon studied herself tearfully in the mirror. The defiant, pet bottom was now slumped down on crumbling legs. No more conspiratorial winks and nods from her erogenous zones; they had retreated in shock.
“That was a rough one!! The target was just too small for me. I think I crossed two of yesterdays. Mrs Harbord’s gong to be none to pleased with me for that, if she ever finds out! One more, and then we will have you out of here!”
In the depths of her misery, Sharon heard Tami prattle on gaily and tried to shut her mind down. She was never quite sure if Tami had pulled back on the last cut, which landed on her upper thigh, of if she was too far down in her own space. She heard an awful whine come from within her throat, and then a terrible stillness. The hands that applied cream to her bottom were neither as smooth nor tender as Claires, and she found she lacked the energy to stand upright once the back strap was released.
How long she lay there, Sharon couldn’t tell. But after some time, Tami helped her up, and handed her dress. “I wouldn’t put on panties if I were you – give your bum a rest!” came the cheerful advice.
Tami took Sharon by the arm, and led her out of the room and back down the corridor to the main shop. As they entered, a group of customers let themselves out the door and onto the street. Tami steered Sharon through the shop to a back room with a huge curtain hanging at one end.
“Look, does this look familiar? I bet you provided a fantastic show!”
As Tami pulled the curtain back, Sharon blanched. She felt desperate for air, and her knees threatened to collapse from beneath her. With shock, she realized she was looking through a one way mirror at the room in which she had just paid the “restocking fee”. The shoppers that had just left the shop were not shoppers at all, but members of the community who had come in to see the weekly demo – and she unwittingly had been the star of today’s show.
“I need to leave!”, Sharon stammered.
“Don’t forget to take your replacement strap! If you come back for it, I am sure Mrs.Harbord will remember that she needs to try it out on you before you take it home!”
Tami handed over a gift wrapped article, the package cheerfully sealed with a bright sticky seal containing a picture of crossed crook handled canes.