Prologue

Jane dropped heavily into the dining chair and let out a long sigh.   She looked up as her husband, Keith, came through the door from the kitchen, carrying two dinner plates.  Jane took a long deep breath and a smile crossed her face.  The smell of lasagna filled her nose and suddenly she realized how hungry she was.   She pulled the chair closer to the table as Keith placed the plate in front of her and took a chair just to her left.

“Long day?”

She was busy placing her napkin as she replied.

“Extreme.  I’m shattered.  That place gets worse by the day.”

They both turned their attention to the meal, passing innocuous comments as they dined.  Keith had made the meal, had a bottle of wine ready, and when they had finished, he cleared the table and finished cleaning the kitchen.  Jane sat, almost numb with exhaustion.  When Keith re-entered the dining room, he paused to look at her.

“Go upstairs and change.   I will be in the den.”

She nodded and rose slowly.  The stairs were a chore.  In their bedroom, she quickly stripped and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.  All she saw was a haggard middle-aged woman with a saggy belly, droopy tits, wrinkles, and tired eyes.   She sighed, turned away from the mirror, and pulled on her pajamas.  The pj’s were pink and covered in small unicorns.  They made her smile.

Downstairs she found Keith in his recliner with a glass of wine.  A second glass sat on the table beside her overstuffed armchair.   She curled up into the chair, tucking her legs beneath her and took the wine sipping it slowly.  Until Keith had come into her life, wine had been a luxury to be sneaked into the house, not an every night pleasure.

“You know you are working too hard.  You need to step back and rest.”

She nodded.   It was a chorus he often sang to her.  She knew he was right, but she had to work.  The pressures of being a physician, keeping a child in boarding school and a horse in stables were constant.  Since her divorce, she had been the sole source of income for herself and her daughter.

She and Keith had known each other for several years.   They had met online and it had been a different sort of relationship.   At the time, all she knew was that he was the forum administrator for a BDSM website.  She was lonely, searching for something new and different, and she had read some of his poetry.   An innocuous email and reply had blossomed into an intense long-distance relationship.  He lived in Texas.  She lived in the UK.   He was married.  She was married.  Both knew that there was little if any chance that the relationship would go beyond the digital discourse that they enjoyed. 

Then, about a year ago, her ex-husband had brought them nearly to the brink of financial ruin.  She had barely managed to salvage the house and her car.   At the urging of her family and a wise solicitor, she had filed for divorce.  It had been a traumatic and bitter affair.  In the end, the judge had been somewhat sympathetic to her plight and had ruled in her favor.   Part of the settlement was that their daughter was placed in a boarding school for which her father would pay and would get visitation at the school regularly.   Jane had full custody other than that stipulation. 

That had left Jane alone in the house most nights.  Keith had done his best to keep her company and fill her evenings, but when his wife developed cancer, his time had become much more limited.   Jane tried to cope, knowing he was under stress himself.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, the cancer was an aggressive and fast-growing type. Keith’s wife had not lasted more than six weeks. 

Two weeks after her funeral, Jane had gotten an overseas call late one evening.  It was from Keith.  She was stunned.  She knew that he much preferred email or digital messaging.  For him to call was a sure sign that something dire was up.   She had nearly panicked as she had answered the phone.

His message was simple.   He was coming to the UK.  He would be there in four days.

She was speechless.  It was something she could not have ever imagined happening, no matter how badly she had wanted it. The four days passed in a haze.   She came home from work the fourth day to find him sitting on her front porch, a couple of bags to one side.   He had been there ever since.

That was eight months ago.   Keith had moved in that night.  He spent that first night in her bed and had made love to her just like he had described to her so many times.  It had been heaven.  Over the next few months, he got his affairs arranged, had some more of his belongings shipped from the states and had begun to assimilate himself into her life and the local culture.  For him, that meant finding some like-minded individuals. 

She had known all along that he was into BDSM.  It was one of the things that had first attracted her to him.   He told her about things she had only fantasized.   Over the last eight months, he had introduced her to many of them and brought some of her fantasies to fruition. 

But now, her job was crushing her.   The hospital was short staffed, and the patient load was growing.  She was being expected to do more and more.   The pressure was incredible, and she felt it every day.

She turned the wine glass up, drained it, and held it out to him. As he moved to take the glass for a refil, she began to speak.

“Sometimes I wish I could just disconnect.  I would love just to have time not to have to make life or death decisions and just be.”

He came back with both glasses filled again with wine, handed her a glass, and stood looking down.  She looked up at him.  He was 20 years older than she was.  He didn’t look like he was 70 years old.  She would have guessed he was in his mid 50’s at most. 

Looking down at her, he couldn’t help but smile at the unicorn pajamas that any nine year old would have been overjoyed to have.   To his eyes, she was gorgeous.  She definitely didn’t look like a 48-year-old woman who had borne a child.  Her breasts, full and heavy, were still firm and held their shape.  She carried a little extra padding, but her figure was not to be denied.  Her legs were long and well shaped and her ass was a joy to behold.  At times when she smiled, she could be anywhere from 12 to 40 years old. 

“You know that wouldn’t work.  You can’t disconnect.  You might make it for 5 minutes before that blonde brain of yours would be back in gear, thinking, worrying, and plotting.”

She frowned.  He was right.

“I know, but I would so like to have time just to be.  To disconnect.  To unplug me from life.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t think you have the capability.  I know you pretty well.  For all your submissive talk, you are too type A to let it all go. “

She harrumphed in his direction.  The wine was having its effect and she was bone tired.

“I am going to bed.  I have an early clinical meeting in the morning.  I will try not to disturb you when I get up.”

He nodded and sipped his wine, his eyes not leaving her as she padded up the stairs, her ass wiggling enticingly in the unicorn infested pajamas.

&&&&&

Keith was sitting at his desk working on an article for the local gardening club when he heard the backdoor to the house close.  Looking at the clock, he realized that it was later than he thought.  Jane came in wearing her riding outfit.  She had been at the stables for her lesson.  Keith could smell the horse.  It was a smell he enjoyed.   He looked her up and down.  The skin-tight jodhpurs and knee-high boots suited her.  Her cheeks were still flushed.  In her right hand she carried her crop and helmet.

“How was riding?”

“Splendid!   Davy is such a joy.”

“I don’t have dinner ready.  I got engrossed in an article I have been working on.  Why don’t we go out and grab a bite.”

“Let me shower and change.  It will take me about half an hour.”

“Take your time.  I will finish the article.”

She disappeared up the stairs as he returned to the computer.  As he was finishing the last edits, he heard her coming down the stairs.  She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.   He pushed back from the desk.

“What will it be tonight?”

“Something quick and easy.  How about pizza?”

“Pizza it is.”

They sat at the restaurant, the pizza between them.  Each had a cold beer and were quite intent on the gooey cheesy slices.  Jane finally spoke as she pulled a string of cheese from her chin. She looked down at the pizza as she asked him a question.

“What do you know about depersonalization?”

The question caught him a bit off guard.

“Why?”

“I was reading an article about depersonalization and dehumanization as fetishes.  I just wondered what you knew or thought about it.”

He looked at her.

“It’s dangerous.”

She giggled again catching him a bit off guard.

“Like some of the other things you and I do aren’t.”

“Those things are physically dangerous.  I am talking about seriously dangerous to your mental health.”

She could see that he was serious.

“How so.”

“You are dealing with a person's psyche.  Not done right or taken to extremes you can leave permanent damage or adverse changes to their personality.”

She was silent for a moment.

“Isn’t it a bit like the disconnecting I was talking about?  I mean, wouldn’t it be possible to learn to disconnect, at least for a while, and just be.”

“There is a lot more to it than that.”

She seemed to focus on the pizza once again and he did likewise.

“Can you help me experience it, at least to some degree.”

He put the pizza down on the plate and looked at her intently.

“What have you been reading?”

She blushed as she answered.

“It is a blog site.  It's written by a Dominant who specializes in training submissives.”

“Send me the link.  I want to read this stuff myself.”

She nodded.

&&&&&

Several days later they were again at the dinner table.  He had made dinner for her and was cleaning up afterward.   He came in, this time with coffee, set her cup down and took his chair.

“I read that drivel that the guy wrote on that blog site.”

“Drivel?”

“Yeah.  He doesn’t have a clue.  I did a little checking.  He is a charlatan.  He is no more a dominant than I am a jet pilot.”

She frowned.

“I guess I should expect that.”

“Don’t fret.   No harm done.   Are you really interested in this?”

She nodded.

“The more I think about the prospect of being unplugged; it seems so attractive.  To not have any cares, any responsibilities is so appealing.”

“There is a lot more to it than that.”

“You said that before.  What do you mean?”

“It means giving up everything, even the concept of self.  You become a non-entity.  No identity, no self.  You become a thing.”

As she listened to his voice and his words, she felt that twinge that let her know that her body was reacting to the thoughts.  

“It sounds wonderful.”

“The problem is that all too often, you don’t come back.  The changes become permanent.  You disconnect so completely that everything that is you becomes disassociated so completely that you never rejoin.  You remain that non-entity.”

That sobered her a bit.

“Really.”

“It’s called brainwashing.”

She giggled.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Still, just to have some time to be there.  To let all that stuff go away.”

“The problem is that if you expect to come back, all that is still there.  It is still in your brain even if you try to tuck it away.   You are always cognizant of the reality of having to return.  To get you to totally disconnect that has to be flushed out of your brain.   That is the danger.  To do that requires some pretty extreme measures.  I don’t think there is any sure way to guarantee that you can come back.”

She furrowed her brow. As he continued.

“The Chinese experimented with it during the Korean conflict.  They used a combination of psychological methods and various drugs.  Their efforts were only partially effective.  However, may of their test subjects suffered unrecoverable psychological damage.”

“I can see your concern.  I wouldn’t want to be turned into a mindless non-entity.”

“Me either.  I kind of like having you around.”

&&&&

Keith was upstairs in his study when he heard the door slam.   He glanced at the clock.  Jane wasn’t due in for at least another hour.   He hurried down the stairs and found her still standing just inside the door, sobbing.  He gathered her in his arms.

“What’s the matter?”

“It has been the most horrible day of my life.”

She sobbed into his shoulder.

“I had a patient die on the imaging machine.  Sudden cardiac arrest.  My supervisor went ballistic and now there is an investigation.  I have been basically interrogated all afternoon and just short of being accused of being the cause.  I wasn’t even in the room.  The technician was setting up.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“They will crucify me to save their own asses.   I will not have a job or a career or retirement or anything.”

“I hardly think that will happen.  People die in hospitals every day.”

“I just don’t want to go back.  I think I want to be one of those mindless non-entities.”

He stepped back from her, holding her shoulders.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I do.  I just want to be.   I don’t want to go back to that hospital. I don’t want to see patients.  I don’t want to have to think.  I just want to be.”

He pulled her along and up the stairs.  

“Get undressed and take a long hot bath.  You are going to bed.”

She nodded and as she undressed, he drew her a bath, hot and deep, and overflowing with thick creamy bubbles.

The next morning he was preparing breakfast as she was drinking coffee at the breakfast bar at the end of the counter.  He spoke to her as he stirred scrambled eggs and sausage.

“How much leave time do you have coming?”

“I don’t know for sure.  Maybe three weeks.”

“Call in today and take a day of personal leave.  You need the time away.  Find out exactly how much leave time you can take.”

“Ok.

Later that morning, she came into his study.

“I called the hospital.   I have more leave than I thought, eight weeks altogether.”

He turned to look at her.

“Ok.   Let me do a little checking around.  I think you need a holiday.”

She grinned.

“Ok!  Are we going back to the BDSM bed and breakfast.”

“Maybe.”

She giggled and turned on her heel and hurried back downstairs.

&&&&&

That weekend, after she had come in from horseback riding and had showered, they were eating dinner.

“I want you to call the hospital and tell them that you are taking four weeks of leave time in two weeks.”

Her head jerked up.

“Four weeks?”

“Yes, we are taking an extended holiday.”

“Where?”

“You will find out.  It is a surprise.”

Her face broke into a broad grin.  His surprises were usually more than interesting.

Two weeks later they were packed and waiting for a taxi to take them to the train station.  She was almost giddy with anticipation.

“Where are we going?”

“You will find out when we get there.”

“KEITH!  Come on.”

“The train to Heathrow and then a flight to Cape Verde.”

“Oh my!   That sounds wonderful.  Will we be there for the whole month.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Where are we staying?”

“You will find that out.  Enough questions.  Here is the taxi.”

Later that evening, the plane landed in Praia, the capital of Cape Verde.  Keith led her into the terminal.  She saw a woman about her age dressed in a chauffeur's uniform, holding a sign with Keith’s name.  They walked up to her and Keith handed the woman their luggage claim tags.   She nodded and hurried off, returning in a few moments with their luggage on a cart.  She led them outside to a sleek Mercedes waiting at the curb.   The woman opened the back door and nodded, indicating they should get in as she placed the bags in the trunk.  Without speaking a word, the woman climbed behind the wheel and drove.  The limo had a glass screen between the passenger area and the driver so Jane could not converse.  She contented herself to looking at the scenery. 

The car trip took them through the city and out into the countryside inland.  The terrain became mountainous, and the car eventually turned down a gravel road that narrowed between trees.  As it darkened because of the proximity of the mountains, they pulled up to what looked more like a stately mansion than a hotel.  The door opened on the car and Keith pulled Jane from the car.   As they walked toward the house, the door opened and a small oriental woman met them.

“Keith Clarke?”

“Yes.”

“I am Esmerelda.  Everyone is waiting.  Please come this way.”

They entered the house. It was as stately and rich inside as it appeared outside.  Jane was awed but pulled up close to Keith.

“I need to pee.”

“Wait.”

She grimaced.

“You have been plying me with wine and water all day and you haven’t let me pee once.  My bladder is about to explode.”

He looked down at her and she could see that his eyes, normally hazle, were now that hard cold grey that told her that he was in full dominant mode.

“You will wait until I tell you to pee.”

She looked puzzled but nodded.

Esmerelda led them to a pair of double doors.  She pulled them open and stepped aside.  Keith walked Jane through the doors into the room, which was evidently the library.  Inside, Jane saw a small group, dressed in evening attire, holding drinks, and talking quietly.  Some of the men and at least one of the women smoked cigars.  That was surprising to her as smoking was such a taboo these days.

There were not more than eight men and women in the group.   Then Jane noticed a man standing near the fireplace.  He was naked. His genitals seemed to be trapped in some sort of metal cage.  He stood stiffly upright and held a tray on which a humidor and several other items sat.  

A man detached himself from the group and approached.

“Keith.  I am Sebastian.”

“Pleased to meet you finally.  You have an elegant place here.”

“It serves its purposes.   Is this the one you spoke to me about.”

“Yes.”

“Is she aware of why she is here.”

“She doesn’t have a fucking clue.”

Sebastian chuckled.

“Did you follow my other instructions?”

“To the letter.”

Sebastian nodded and grasped Jan by the upper arm and led her toward the group.  She looked at Keith, confused.

Sebastian placed her in the middle of the small circle.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is number 93.”

Everyone looked her up and down.  Jane was confused.  What or who was 93? 

Sebastian spoke to her.

“93.  That is your number.  It is how you will be called from now one.  Jane no longer exists.  Keith has told me of your desire to “disconnect.”  We are going to do our best to see that you do that.”

Jane shuddered.  She now understood.  It was one of Keiths surprises.  She was getting her wish.

“Now, 93.  Do you need to pee?”

“Horribly.”

Sebastian's hand shot out and slapped her hard on the cheek.  It surprised her so much that she didn’t do anything but look at him wide-eyed.

“You will learn that when you are spoken to you will answer either Yes Sir or No Sir.  You will offer nothing else unless specifically asked, and you will not speak until you are spoken to.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.   Now, 93.  Do you need to pee?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then, pee.”

Her eyes went wide.  She was dressed for traveling in jeans and a comfortable shirt.  

A moment passed, and Sebastian's hand flashed again and her other cheek flashed with pain.

“You were given an order.  You will obey instantly or be punished.  Now pee.”

She whimpered and concentrated.  She tried her best to force her bladder to turn loose, but it refused.

Sebastian sighed and his hand closed around her breast.  It began to squeeze tighter and tighter.  He spoke to her through closed teeth.

“93, PEE”

Jane sobbed.  The pain in her breast was intense.  Finally, she managed to relax her sphincter and her overly full bladder began to expel its contents forcefully.  She could feel the warm fluid as it flooded down her thighs, soaking through her jeans and panties.  There was such a flow that it ran down her leg and began to puddle around her feet.   Her embarrassment showed in her face and cheeks.

Sebastian stepped back and nodded.

“93, Strip.”

Sobbing heavily, Jane quickly stripped off her clothing until she stood stark naked.  Her urine soaked clothing lay in a pile at her feet.   Sebastion leaned down and picked up the pissed on panties and held them dripping.

“93, open your mouth.”

Her eyes widened, but she opened her mouth.   Sebastian began to stuff the panties into her mouth.  She could taste her own urine.  He used his finger to push the panties until they filled her mouth.

“93, close your mouth.”

She obeyed, the piss soaked panties filling her mouth.   She was forced to swallow a small amount as it pooled in her mouth.

“Esmerelda.  Bring me the tray.”

The small wrinkled oriental woman appeared carrying a tray covered with a white linen towel.   Sebastian removed the towel.  Jane instantly recognized forceps and needles.  She watched as Sebastian took a swab soaked in disinfectant and swabbed her left nipple.  She felt the cool liquid on her breast and then watched as he took lifted her breast.  Sebastian looked at Keith.

“She has inverted nipples.   It makes it a bit more complicated.”

“Can you manage it?”

“Oh, yes.”

Jane stood aghast as Sebastian took a length of surgical tubing and wrapped it around the base of her breast, pulling it tight like a tourniquet until her breast was bulging.  It forced her inverted nipple to protrude.  Sebastian then placed the hoop forcep on her nipple, adjusting it carefully before squeezing it closed tightly and letting it hang.  Jane squealed around the panties in her mouth.

She watched as Sebastian took a large gauge needle and removed the sterile cap.  He grasped the forceps, placed the needle and with one sharp, quick motion, drove the needle through the base of her nipple. 

Janes' hands came up, and she screamed.  The panties nearly came out of her mouth and Sebastian pushed them back in before he took a gold ring from the tray, inserted one open side onto the needle and deftly pulled both back through the puncture in her nipple.   He then placed a gold tag on the ring before closing the ring tightly.

Jane was gasping around the panties.   Her nipple and breast felt as if they were on fire.  Sebastion demanded her attention again.

“93.   Look”

She managed to focus.  He nodded downwards and she looked down to see him holding the gold tag attached to her nipple.  On it was engraved two numbers, a nine and a three.

“93, you will wear this from now on.   That is your number.  It is how you will be known.  You are the number 93.  There is no more Jane, the doctor or wife.  Just number 93.”

He dropped the tag which caused her to whimper again.

“Esmerelda, take her to the quarters and see that she understand her role.  Everyone else, let's adjourn to the game room so this room can be cleaned.”

Everyone moved toward the doors, Keith included.  Jane watched them leave.  Keith had not said good-bye or even acknowledged her.   Esmerelda stood before her.

“Follow me.”

Jane followed the small figure through the back door to the library.  It opened into a narrow dark hall, obviously meant as a way for servants to move about the house unseen.   They went down a set of stairs and the woman led Jane into a larger room.   There were several men and women, all naked and all sporting nipple rings and tags like hers. 

“Spit out those panties.”

Jane complied happily.

“The rules are simple.  No talking.  No sex with the other numbers.  All you are is a number.  You will do exactly as you are told and nothing more.  You will refuse nothing.  You will ask for nothing.  You will eat when told, drink when told, piss when told and shit when told.  If you break the rules, you will be punished.  Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am”

Esmeralda smiled.

“You learn quick.   You should concentrate on just being.  Forget that Jane ever existed.  Forget that you have a husband, that you are a doctor, that you have a family.  Forget that you ever existed as anything but 93.”

Without another word, Esmerelda disappeared.  Jane turned to look at the others.  Some looked back at her.  Two she noticed seemed to be oblivious to everything in the room.  They sat on the edge of the cots which Jane noticed had their corresponding number on a placard.   They just sat.  They stared straight ahead and didn’t seem cognizant of anything going on around them.  They seemed . . . disconnected.

Jane wandered down the room.  She counted nine cots.  The last one furthest from the door had the number 93 attached to the placard.   She looked at it and sat down on it.  Several of the others were still watching her.  The two she had noticed earlier still sat motionlessly.

The lights went out, and Jane could hear the others as they lay on their cots.  Soon several began to snore.  At least one was crying softly.   Jane lay on her back, trying not to move.  Any movement caused her nipple to ache.   Exhaustion overtook her and she didn’t realize when she fell asleep.