"Come here, dear."

Cindy hesitated, then realized she had no other alternative. Alicia had locked the door and slipped the keys into her pocket. Sucking in her lower lip, she moved toward the woman, her heart beating wildly.

"Now, we have our session," Alicia said, mechanically removing the teenager's clothing. The gown fell easily from Cindy's shoulders. Panties and bras were just not part of the uniform at Hannah Manor. Cindy was to soon to find out why.

"Why are you doing this to me?" the girl asked. She had heard about all sorts of strange psychiatric treatments. But psychoanalysis in the nude? That was something new to her.

"It's all part of your treatment here, dear," Alicia went on, undisturbed by the girl's growing anxiety. "Actually, it's going to be in two parts. The first is solo," Alicia began to explain, leading Cindy by one hand to a large wooden stockade to the right of the barrel. "The second part will involve your friend, Judy Farraday. She'll be down here to join us shortly."

"Judy?"

Before she could ask more questions Cindy found herself thrust forward against the stockade. Alicia took advantage of her disorientation and shock, quickly opening the top portion of the instrument and shoving her arms through the two holes.

She was being pilloried just like some Puritan back in New England! She knocked her knees against the flat wooden, board, twisting her head around and staring uncomprehendingly at Dr. Endicott.

"It's true!" Cindy gasped, staring up wide-eyed.

"What's true, dear?"

"The stories. The stories about this place I've heard!"

Alicia moved around, raising another portion of the board up and thrusting one of the girl's legs into another hole.