The exercise class

Claire tagged onto the small group of girls heading from the refectory to the clinic's state of the art gymnasium. The short journey was accompanied by constant moaning and whimpering, although not always from the same people. When they arrived, they shuffled into a rough rectangle in front of the waiting instructor and Claire fell into place at the back. So far, it seemed similar to all the other mandatory exercise classes she'd attended over the years.

They started with a warm up of star jumps, which seemed to drive the burning goo deeper into their pudenda, as was doubtless the intention. Sobs and wails came from the distraught patients, growing in intensity as the male instructor demanded greater amplitude and speed. With a start, Claire realized she was one of the ones wailing and immediately tried to stifle herself. So far there had been no punishments threatened for those who made too much noise, but she could only imagine it was a matter of time.

Finally, when she thought she couldn't go on any longer, the instructor called a halt. He was short, but heavily muscled, in his mid forties. Some women would have found his chiselled features attractive, but Claire thought him extremely ugly. Even so, she could have kissed him when he gave the order to stop.

Following the warm up, each patient was assigned to the exercise deemed best for her treatment and overall health and fitness, as based on her medical examination and records, although that was never explicitly stated. They were just expected to obey without question.

About half were sent to work on the machines (treadmills, exercise bikes, elliptical trainers and so on) and a few started swinging weights under the supervision of a female trainer, but along with two others, Claire was given flexibility exercises by the instructor, himself.

As he demanded ever more taxing poses from the struggling girls, the redhead began to wobble from exhaustion. She'd had very little sleep the night before, but knew that was no excuse. The man took hold of her ankle and firmly raised her foot to touch the back of her head. When she lost her balance and nearly fell, he caught her, but responded with a dozen hard smacks to her inner thighs with his small rectangular paddle. This was normally a very sensitive area, but after her judicial caning, she was just happy he'd avoided her bottom.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," the redhead apologised, earnestly. "Thank-you for punishing me."

"Just do better," was the only reply.

After an hour of advanced poses and core work, the trio were sent on to other activities. All three had taken a few smacks, but the punishments were not as bad as Claire had feared. Her college trainer was stricter.

She moved on to the weights, where she spent half an hour on light implements, starting with her arms and moving on to her legs. Then she was sent to the endless climbing wall, which was pure **** for her genitals. By the end, she could hardly see the hand and footholds, because she was crying too hard.

Finally, the session was over and all the girls were called back to the centre for a cooldown session of touching toes and running on the spot. When they were released to return to the refectory, they were all exhausted and despite being sweaty messes, were not offered the opportunity to shower, because it could interfere with the caustic sludge coating their intimate parts. Neither were they permitted to use the lavatory, although the amount of hydration pushed upon them had been considerable. After being denied the night before, Claire was expecting that, though.

The journey back was much quieter, because the girls were too tired to fuss, but there were still plenty of red eyes and sniffling noses.