Dr. Maxwell's Stress Reduction Clinic
By J the Quill

    "I'm telling you Paula, you don't need a therapist to reduce stress.  
It's all in the mind.  You're just going through a rough time and you need an
    "I know Sherry, It's just…  I have been going to a therapist for so long,
I'm just not sure what else to try."
    Sherry looked at her co-worker.  Paula had been a workaholic since
graduating college.  She had no time for a social life and rarely saw her
family.  Normally, Sherry would just leave the subject alone and mind her own
business.  But Paula and her had become such good friends within the last two
years and she saw her friend in need.
    Paula was too reserved for her own good.  She wore her thick brown hair
up in a bun.  She always dressed conservatively.  Wearing business suits that
she had bought off the rack at a department store.  She always wore slip-on
flats or penny loafers.  It had taken a while for her friend to convince her
to start wearing skirts instead of pants.  Paula was a project that Sherry
had refused to give up on.
    "Look Paula, I can't tell you what to do, but I can whole-heartedly
recommend that you sign up for some sessions at my clinic.  It's cheaper than
a therapist and I guarantee you'll have faster results than taking those
pills the doctor prescribed."
    "I'm not sure, Sherry."  Paula had always been envious of her blonde
co-worker.  She always felt mousy around her.  Sherry could hold the world in
the palm of her hand if she so desired.  She wore tailored suits that
complimented her perfect figure.  She always showed the right amount of leg
and cleavage, enough to get noticed but not enough to get into trouble at
work.  She wore the highest heels and walked graciously about.  As of late,
Paula had come to trust her assistant's judgment.  The day she wore the suit
that Sherry had picked out for her a few of the guys had complimented her on
it.  She decided to take her co-worker's advice.  "All right, Sherry, I'll do
it.  Do you have the number?"
    "Oh no."  Sherry told her.  "If I gave you the number, you'd casually
forget to call.  I'll set you up for an appointment on Friday when I have
mine scheduled.  Then we can go dancing after and make a night of it."
    "Dancing?  Oh Sherry.  I'm not sure."
    "Sorry, you already promised."

    Friday evening came faster than Paula had expected.  As they left work
for the day, Sherry followed her home.  They walked into Paula apartment,
Sherry carrying a large, fully packed athletic bag with her.  "I'm glad you
decided to spend the night Sherry, but do you need all those clothes?"
    "No, most of this stuff is for me, but I brought a few things for you."
    "Like what?"  Paula looked at her questioningly.
    "What were planning on wearing tonight?"  They went to Paula bedroom and
the brunette showed off the outfit she had planned for the night.  "Pants?  
You're going to wear pants to a club?"
    "These are nice, I'll look fine."
    "This is what I picked out for you."  Sherry pulled a short black mini
dress from the black bag.
    "I couldn't possibly wear that!"
    "Oh yes you could."
    It took about ten minutes of arguing until Paula decided to wear the
dress.  She came out of the bathroom wearing the dress and tan pantyhose.  
Paula held out a pair of four-inch high-heels with ankle straps to her.  
Again the argument ensued as to whether Paula would wear the heels.  In the
end, Paula was teetering atop the stiletto heels, trying to maintain her
    "Now let's do your hair."  Sherry told her.
    Paula had to admit Sherry could make her look beautiful on the outside.  
She walked around getting used to the heels as Sherry got ready.  Sherry
emerged from the bathroom a picture of radiance.  Sending Paula back down to
her mousy roots.
    Paula drove to the clinic, while Paula sized up her outfit.  Sherry wore
a white tight silk blouse that showed off her perfectly toned body.  She had
chosen a black leather skirt the showed the tops of her black stockings as
she sat in the driver's seat.  She wore a black pair of opera pumps, with
stiletto heels the same height as Paula's.  Sherry called these her "dangling
shoes."  They were always sliding off the backs of her heels when she crossed
her legs, a move Sherry guaranteed would call attention to her from guys.
    They walked up into the clinic and signed in at the reception desk.  The
girl behind the counter handed Paula a clipboard and asked her to read the
agreement and sign at the bottom.
    "It's just a formality."  Sherry assured her.  "Just sign at the bottom."
    Paula signed the sheet and received her copy.  A few moments later,
another woman in a doctor's coat came to get them.  She led them into a small
room in the back of the clinic.
    "Okay ladies, who's first?"  The doctor asked them.
    "Paula will be first."  Sherry told her confidently.  "I'll help her get
into position.  I've done this before."  The doctor left them in the room,
which had no furniture save an office chair.  The only noticeable thing in
the entire unremarkable room was a small door about eighteen inches off the
ground, which had a square panel cut out of it.  Sherry walked to the wall
and opened the door.  Inside the door was a small compartment with a padded
bottom.  "Okay, get in and kneel right here," Sherry patted the vinyl covered
pad.  "Once you're in, stick your head through the hole on the other side."
    Paula wasn't sure what to think, but she had trusted Sherry up until now
and the blonde was a regular patient."  She climbed into the compartment and
stuck her head through the opening.  She found that it had a padded
semi-circle that was wide enough for her neck to rest in.  As her head
protruded through the hole, she saw the doctor waiting on the other side,
standing on a raised platform that brought her chest to Paula's eye level.  
The lady doctor slid the panel above the brunette's head downward, enclosing
another padded semi-circle on the back of her neck.  With a click the panel
became unmovable, trapping Paula's head in the other room.  Behind her she
heard the door close.  She could feel Sherry guiding her feet into position,
then felt something padded enclose around her ankles.  When they had
finished, the doctor and Sherry had effectively locked her into the wall with
her head stuck in one room and her feet sticking out into the next.  The
doctor brought a mask down from the wall and began adjusting the strap to fit
around Paula's head.
    "Is this like aromatherapy?"  Paula asked her.
    "It's definitely similar.  There are a few sensory stimulations that get
added in to achieve greater results.  But otherwise, all the magic comes
through this."  The doctor said, adjusting the mask over her face.
    "What kind of stimulations?"
    "Well the monitor usually tells the whole story."  The doctor left the
platform and returned a moment later with a rolling television.  She turned
it on and a blue screen came up.  She rolled it in front of Paula's face and
flipped a switch on the wall.  "I'll be back in about forty-five minutes.  
Just relax and let the therapy do all the work."
    The doctor left the room.  A moment later, Paula heard a hissing noise
and the monitor came to life.  The picture on the screen was a familiar one.  
On the screen was a camera's feed of a side view of her feet sticking out
into the next room.  She could see very clearly the extra panel that had been
added to the door that trapped her ankles.  As a sweet smell came through the
mask, she began to find her situation humorous and let out a slight giggle.  
She watched the monitor, wiggling her feet to make sure they were hers.  She
giggled again.  Thinking it was funny for some reason.  As she rotated her
ankles, a pair of hands came into the camera's view, hands with a familiar
manicure.  As she watched, the index finger of one hand traced a line across
her exposed instep.  A shockwave went through her body as the tickling
sensation entered her nervous system.  She began to laugh a little harder.  
The wicked finger turned and dragged across the instep of the other foot,
causing Paula to laugh a little harder.  She started to struggle with her
bonds.  She reached behind her to unlatch the door, but found no knob to
turn.  She kept laughing frantically.  She gasped out loud as the free hands
made short work of the buckles that held the shoes on her feet.  The buckles
undone, a few wiggles sent them falling from her feet, fully exposing her
ticklish, vulnerable soles.  She was absolutely helpless and her friend was
in the next room about to tickle her.  It was too much for her as peals of
laughter streamed from her mouth at the thought of her feet being tickled.  
She watched helplessly as the Sherry's hands, bearing those sharp fingernails
curled into claws and slowly danced down the lengths of her smooth soles.  
She giggled for a few seconds, until the tormenting fingernails found her
arches.  Torrents of laughter rained from her mouth as the deft digits
lingered at the balls of her feet and wiggled up and down.  Her maddening
laughter echoed throughout the empty room.  Her laughter was on autopilot as
now, even when the hands didn't tickle her, she continued to laugh harshly.  
The hands poised over her feet once again and torturously walked down the
sides of her feet.  Causing fresh squeals of giggling to erupt from the
helpless brunette.  After just a few minutes, she was completely exhausted,
but she continued to laugh.  Soon her hands hung loosely at her sides, and
her feet, which could wiggle and twitch to avoid some of the tickling now
dangled immobile, becoming easy targets for Sherry, whose hands seemed to
have plenty of energy left.  One hand gently lifted her foot so the sole
faced the ceiling.  Paula watched as the pointed toe of her own shoe was
lowered to her foot.  The shoe glided across the nylon-covered surface of her
foot, tickling Paula once again.
New energy sprang to life inside Paula as more tickling sensations coursed
through her nervous system.  After a few minutes the other foot was treated
to the same torture.  To Paula, being tickled by her own shoes was the
funniest thing she ever seen.  Tears welled up in her eyes and her vision
blurred.  She could barely make out her own feet in the monitor and laughed
harder not knowing how badly her feet were being tickled.  Through the door,
Sherry came, which Paula found even funnier.  She laughed as her co-worker
stepped up on the platform and wiped the tear-streaked eyes.
    "I wanted to see how your stress relief was going.  You've only been in
there twenty minutes and I wanted to make sure you were going to last the
full forty-five.  You doing okay?"  Paula tried to respond, but the laughter
combined with the mask proved a verbal impossibility.  Sherry's hand dipped
to the side of Paula's head.   "I also wanted to see if your ears were
ticklish."  She began lightly touching Paula now overly sensitive ears.  The
reaction was electric as Paula did her best to avoid the touches while
giggling without end.  She tried again to communicate to Sherry she wanted
out, but again, her giggling and covered face muffled the message.  "What was
that?"  Sherry asked her condescendingly.  "Did you say you wanted me to go
back and tickle your feet more?  Well.  Okay!"
    Paula was sure her "NO!" was unmistakable.  Although the constant
laughter might lead one to disbelieve.  Sherry left the room and her hands
appeared on the monitor a moment later.  There was no gentleness this time as
the hands quickly slid across Paula's ticklish soles.  The sharp nails
threatening to tear through the smooth nylon.  The fingers moved rapidly,
drawing forth bursts of unrestrained laughter from the helpless brunette.  
Over and over the nails wreaked their havoc upon poor Paula's sensitive nerve
endings.  Paula wailed in agony unable to function, save laughing at the top
of her lungs.
    She heard a click and the hissing stopped.  The hands on the monitor had
stopped tickling and Sherry was rubbing her palms against the tortured feet.  
The forty-five minutes was up.  Barely focusing, Paula made out the doctor
wheeling the television away.  The doctor climbed upon the platform and
pulled the mask from Paula's aching face.  Turning a lever she slid the panel
up and freed the giggling Brunette's neck from the padded hole.  The doctor
left and entered the other room to help Paula out of the wall.
    The two women helped Paula into the chair and let her rest while the
nurse put Sherry into the compartment.  The doctor left, leaving Paula in the
room alone with Sherry's feet and legs sticking out from the square hole in
the door.  Next to the door was a flat panel that could be slid into place,
acting like a pillory to hold the two ankles immobile.  Paula rolled the
chair over to the feet and placed the panel over the ankles, locking them
into place.  She looked through the eyepiece of the camera, making sure it
was well focused on the stiletto heels adorning Sherry's helpless feet.  The
doctor reappeared through the door.
    "I just turned the nitrous oxide on for Sherry.  Do you want to handle
this?  I could do it if you think you're too tired."
    Paula smiled wickedly.  "I'll find the energy."  She told the doctor,
gently tugging at the heels on front of her.  The foot flexed instinctively,
trying to get the shoe back on fully.  She playfully pulled at the other.  
Through the wall she heard Sherry beginning to giggle.  She was going to
enjoy this.
    "How's your stress level Paula?"  The doctor asked.
    "I feel so relaxed."  She told the doctor, turning her attention back to
the feet, which had lost one of the shoes protecting one of the vulnerable
    "That's what we're here for.  Don't forget to sign up for your next
appointment before you leave."
    "Oh I will.  Um, how long is Sherry scheduled for tonight?"
"She's scheduled for a half-hour."
"What is the longest possible session allowed?"
"For new customers, we only allow forty-five minutes maximum."
"How about Sherry?"
"Sherry has been here a few times.  The maximum for a regular customer is two
"Tell you what, let's extend her time tonight, and go ahead and bill me for
The lady doctor smiled as wickedly as Paula felt.  "I'll just go make the
arrangements."  She told the brunette.
"Thank you so much."  She said, drawing her ten fingernails down Sherry's
black, nylon-clad sole.  "How about it Sherry?  Do you think you can last a
couple hours like this?"  Through the wall she heard Sherry let loose with a
protesting whine that ended in a giggle.  The feet twitched violently,
causing the other high heel, which had been balancing precariously, to drop.  
"I think she said she'll be okay.  You know," Paula told the doctor, "I never
got your name."
"I'm Maria, Dr. Maria Maxwell."
"Well, Dr. Maria Maxwell, I'm very new to this.  Do you think you could take
a couple of hours and teach me the finer points of tickle torture?  Like you
take this foot and show me how, and I'll take this foot and get some heavy
practice in."
"I'll be right back.,"  The doctor said, smiling broadly.
"Hurry back."  Paula told her.  "I hate to keep my friend waiting."