Chapter 3

The sky was a vibrant, clear blue, even from behind Jane's sunglasses.

Bright green trees gently swayed back and forth in the light breeze as she made her way down the road. Although she was still technically in London, it was the kind of suburban street she couldn't even dream of being able to live in, far away from the chain stores.

She was glad it was finally the weekend. For just over forty-eight hours she was Jane again, a free woman, not employee number two hundred and fifty-six, a nameless whore behind bars.

She looked at all the door numbers as she walked past them: nine, eleven, thirteen. At thirteen, she walked up to the door. She looked at the names next to the intercom on the wall, then back at the name on the piece of paper that one client had given her on his last visit. She double checked and triple checked that they were definitely the same. They were. Her heart pounding in her chest, she pressed the button.

"Hello?" asked a voice through the intercom. It was a man's voice, and judging by the accent, he sounded well educated.

"Hi. My name's Jane. I have an appointment." She sounded more nervous than she'd intended to.

"Please, come up," enthused the voice. The door clicked open, and

Jane crept inside.

"How did you hear about me?" asked the man Jane had spoken to on the intercom, a respectable looking man in his late thirties. He had a full beard which was already starting to get a few white hairs, and wore oldfashioned glasses. He sat down in front of her, motioning for her to do the same.

Jane looked around at the surprisingly normal looking office. The walls were painted beige, the floor carpeted. A few tasteful pictures hung on the walls, and there was a large potted plant in the corner.

She could hear classical music being played from a speaker she couldn't see. She couldn't name any such music, but the violins played melodies together that seemed pleasant enough.

She sat down on a leather seat that creaked as she shifted her weight.

It didn't feel very comfortable compared to the soft old sofas she was used to, but she didn't want to say anything negative. "From a client. He said he'd set up an appointment for me, and he'd even pay, I just needed to turn up here at this exact time."

"You know this man's name?" the man asked, his tone of voice soft and reassuring.

Jane shook her head.

"Well, you're right. I don't know how you managed to make such an impression on him, but he has indeed offered to pay for this procedure.

All I need from you is your consent and an hour or two of your time.

Do you have any questions?"

"What does it actually ... involve?" she asked.

The man smiled, revealing wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt at all, if that's what you're thinking. We just need to perform an analysis of your specific belt, then make a matching key. It's not at all intrusive to your body or anything like that. You just gain the ability to take your belt off in the normal way you already do whenever you pay for sex. I'm assuming you've indulged in such services?"

She nodded slightly, looking down at the fuzzy carpet.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, let me assure you! Many people get sexual urges, and although it's somewhat rarer in women, it's certainly not unheard of. I've performed this procedure many times before, so there's no risk involved. The only thing that might seem a bit odd at first is that I need you to be asleep for the procedure, as all the uncomfortable shifting a nervous person invariably does makes it harder for the machine to analyse the belt."