Amy sat silently in the waiting room of the clinic. To say that Amy was frightened would be the understatement of the century. She was terrified. The waiting room looked much like any waiting room in a doctors office, but the behavior of the "patients" showed more clearly than anything possibly could that this was no ordinary doctors office. A rack of straps, paddles, canes and other implements on the wall resolved any doubt that would have remained.

There were men and women milling about the waiting room as she entered. Several of the woman were standing with raised skirts, on display as it were, with all their sexy underthings on view. The fear in their faces was palpable. Amy took a seat and her husband, Jim, took a seat beside her. The room was silent, no one spoke. One or two of the men, showing more forwardness than the others, were standing, going over to the women on display, examining them with their eyes (as the others were doing, but at closer range). A female receptionist sat behind a counter filing out charts.

Amy and Jim had engaged in erotic spanking frequently over the 5 years of their marriage, and Jim had occasionally spanked for punishment. But this time things were very different. Jim had caught Amy in a sexual liaison with her lover. He didn't know if there had been others, didn't want to know. He had wanted to leave her on the spot, but Amy didn't want their marriage to end, and had agreed to submit to any punishment he chose. And that is how Amy had come to be at the PAIN CLINIC, although all concerned were informed that it should never be referred to as such. So everyone just called it "The Clinic".

After a few minutes of waiting a door opened, and a cart was wheeled out with a woman tightly bound to it. The cart was of unusual design, sort of like a tricycle, with one wheel in the front and two in the rear. The front of the cart was at a level just above the floor, and the rear was much higher. At the rear of the cart was a bicycle seat on a post, pushing up on the woman's crotch. The cart was wheeled into the center of the waiting room. The women standing exposed stood even more erect, and raised their skirts even higher as the cart was wheeled into the room. There it stood, for all to see.

After a few minutes a female nurse came out of the office and went to the head of the cart, kneeled down so her face was close to poor miscreant bound to the cart. "I'm ready to administer your medicine, Janice. Are you ready to receive it?" "Yes, ma'am", Janice replied. The nurse went to the rear of the cart, and began to turn a wheel on the right side. As the wheel turned, the post holding the bicycle seat began to rise, pushing on Janice's crotch, raising her ass, pulling her legs taught in their bonds as the slim bicycle seat pressed against cunt-flesh, jack-knifing Janice ever upward. Janice protested softly (very softly). A few "OH's" and "Oh my's". When the seat was pushed hard enough into her cunt to satisfy the nurse, she reached for a leather strap that had been hanging on the wall.

"Don't forget to cooperate" the nurse said, and then began to strap the bound woman. At each lick a scream tore from Janice, a fiery band of red with welts at the border appeared, and Janice yelled "ONE! AIYEE!! ONE, MA'AM, THANK YOU MA'AM, CAN I PLEASE HAVE ANOTHER. ARRGH! TWO MA'AM, THANK YOU MA'AM, CAN I PLEASE HAVE ANOTHER". A few counts were missed, but by and large Janice counted each and every stroke, with PLEASE and THANK YOU's after each one. This was no ordinary punishment strapping. Janice screamed from the first to the last stroke, but hardly missed a count. The strapping ceased when the count reached one hundred. It had taken 15 minutes, but seemed like hours.

Amy sat, dry mouthed, and frozen in fear. The nurse, who had just finished administering the severest strapping Amy had ever witnessed, now returned to the front of the cart. Janice lay, crying and heaving hysterically. The nurse looked deeply into the eyes of the whipped girl. "You did very well, Janice. You only missed three. You've earned 15 strokes to each inner thigh, and lucky you are to have to receive so few. I'm sure you'll do even better next time." At this callously delivered declaration, Janice broke into even more hysterical sobs. But there were no pleas. Janice was resigned to her pain. "I'll let you rest here, Janice, until you have composed yourself. Medicine is wasted if not administered in the proper doses at the proper interval. I'll be back in 30 minutes". With that, the nurse turned and left the room. Janice lay stretched on the punishment cart, her legs stretched taut, her cunt hurting from the unrelenting pressure of the bicycle seat raising her ass high, her ass a hue of red and purple, her face red from crying. Janice moaned pitiably. Some of the men moved in for a closer look.

The door to the office opened. A voice called out "Mr. and amp; Mrs. Wells". Amy's treatment was about to begin.