Jane Doe 2

The first thing I remembered was the sound of the heart monitor beeping. The heart monitor and the other hospital room noises told me where I was. I didn't remember my name or how I got here. There were many other things I could not remember. A psychiatrist was scheduled to come see me and help me sort through it.

The psychiatrist went through all the same questions that I had been asked a hundred times. What was the last thing I remember; do I have any recollection of my family or where I lived? The answer to all her questions was "no." We agreed for the purposes of our meetings that she would call me Jane as in Jane Doe. I caught my reflection in the window and was thankful that my face was still wrapped in bandages. It was a horrible sight; one I could barely tolerate.

"Do you feel like you are healing?"

"I don't really know," I said. "The pain is less, but I can still only stay awake for an hour or so and they haven't let me out of bed yet."

"And how are you sleeping?"

"The medicine they give me helps a lot." I said after a long pause.

I thought she was going to ask why I paused but she moved on.

"I am not sure how much you have been told but let me tell you what is known. We have not been able to identify who you are. You were found barely alive in a horrible car accident and fire. You were a passenger in a car that crashed into a gas station. The police have been unable to confirm the identity of the driver, but documents found at the scene suggest he was a known kidnapper who escaped prison a year earlier. The "why and how" he escaped is still under investigation and the doctor who may have helped him escape has disappeared. Neither the doctor nor her husband and children have heard from her since the kidnapper's escape. The police believe you may have been a victim of the kidnapper. The police aren't sure you were kidnapped or when you may have been kidnapped. There not even sure if the other body at the crash seen, which was horribly burned, was the escapee."

"The doctors believe you're in your late twenties or early thirties. They also believe you have had a least one child. Does any of that spark a memory, especially the moment of childbirth?"

I sat there in shock. I had no memories to suggest it was true or not.

"A child? I have a child? I have no memory of having a child or any specific emotions regarding a child."

"There are a number of simple explanations for that. Are there things that seem familiar to you, maybe not a specific memory, but that you feel comfortable doing?"

"No, but I haven't been awake that long."

"It would be helpful if you paid attention to those feelings. Some things should seem familiar or natural, for example I can see you're left-handed. Is there anything in your dreams that seems familiar, maybe a clue we can use to help figure out who you are?"

"I don't think so."

"Well tell me about them."

"They are more like short little snippets of dreams. Some snippets seem more real than others and they usually involve sex. I am not sure how open you want me to be."

"I need you to me completely open with me."

"Sometimes, I feel like someone is playing with my vagina, rubbing their fingers up and down my clit, and penetrating me until I orgasm. Sometimes I feel someone playing with my breasts, sucking on them. I know I am asleep and dreaming but the orgasms are real enough."

"Could you be stimulating yourself?"

"Those dreams began before I woke up, before I could really move my arms and hands."

"Does it seem familiar?"

"That is another weird part, sometimes it seems very familiar, especially the orgasms."

"At your age, I am sure you've experienced orgasms before and masturbation. You said you experienced those dreams before you woke up, are there other dreams that started before you woke up?"

"You said to be open right? Many times, when someone is playing with my vagina, I have a man's penis in my mouth. Sometimes I am just sucking on the penis, and no one is touching me, but the more powerful dreams have both. These are all snippets, it's never one continuous dream. The weird part is I feel like I really love giving oral sex or sucking cock, and I can't wait until it explodes in my mouth so I can swallow his come. I hope that is not too open for you."

"Well, it is certainly a surprise. Does "sucking cock" feel familiar to you? Or do you have a sense of who's cock it is?"

"There is something familiar about sucking cock, but I feel like I should be on my knees and not in a hospital bed. My eyes are never open, so I have no idea whose cock it is. But I feel I should have my eyes open if that makes any sense?"

"Does it surprise you that you don't know whose cock it is?"

"Funny, I never thought about that before. I just felt happy sucking cock until it came in my mouth. Maybe I was just a cock sucking whore before the accident."

"Let's not jump to any conclusions as to who or what you were before the accident. When the man comes in your mouth, can you taste his semen and do you swallow it?"

"I never remember tasting it, but I do remember swallowing because that always seems like the best part."

"Tastes are one thing we don't normally sense in our dreams. Are those the only dreams you have had?"

"Yes, just those sex dreams."

The psychiatrist said she wanted to let me rest. I know I was beginning to yawn a lot. She came back a few days later.

"Since we last spoke, is there anything that seems familiar to you, maybe not a specific memory, but that you feel comfortable doing?"

"I have been thinking about that since we last met. Now that they are letting me out of bed, there are some things like brushing my teeth, the way I hold the toothbrush I think, but I don't recognize the horribly scarred woman looking back at me," as I started to cry.

The counselor came and sat next to me, putting her arm around my shoulder. "You don't have to worry about that. The plastic surgeons have assured me that the scarring is only superficial, and you will be beautiful again when they are done. You have to give the rest of your body and mind time to heal first. It would also be helpful if we can figure out who you are so they know what you should look like."

"Who's going to pay for that? And this hospital and you and everything else."

"As I said before, you are a victim of a kidnapping. The state has a victim's trust fund supported by the financial penalties levied against criminals. The purpose of that fund is cover the medical costs incurred by the victim during the act of a crime. So that fund will cover all of your hospital costs including a plastic surgeon."

"And what if I never figure that out," I cried.

"First let me say that is very rare with only a few documented cases. And if that is where we end up, then we will go through as many photos of people necessary, just like brushing your teeth is familiar, you will find faces that look familiar. What else seems familiar?"

I hesitated and asked, "how personal do you want me to get?"

"Please, you need to be completely open with me, it would be helpful if you didn't hold anything back, including sex."

"Well, I wasn't going there. It's when I wipe my vagina after urinating. The entire process of peeing, reaching for toilet paper with my left hand and wiping myself. It's more of a reflex than anything else. Except...."

"Please it's important to be open with me. Except for what?"

"I am not sure what I noticed first, I think it was the tattoo over my vagina, my clitoris has been pierced with a ring and my vagina is shaved. It feels very odd and embarrassing when the hospital staff shave me there. None of that seems familiar at all."

"The ER staff documented all of those things when they first brought you in. The staff debated about removing the ring and letting your pubic hair grow back. It was decided, especially after your memory loss became apparent, that we should not change anything that might interfere with getting your memories back. The doctors in the ER did not believe the tattoo was very old. An ace of spades playing card they said."

"Yes, and the letters "B" "C" and "O" written on the card, along with some flowers."

She asked to see it. I felt uncomfortable when she lifted up the front of my hospital gown and slid my hospital provided panties down. I was even more uncomfortable when she leaned down for a closer look. She sat back down, and she jotted down a bunch of notes.

"My nipples have also been pieced and there are some tattoos on my breasts. That seems wrong also."

"The ER staff documented that also. I want to go back to how you are sleeping before we run out of time. Are you still having the same dream we discussed before?"

"Yes, and some others."

"Is there anything in your dreams that seems familiar, maybe a clue we can use to help figure out who you are?"

"I don't think so."

"Well tell me about the dreams you had after you woke up."

"Again, these are more like snippets of dreams. Some seem more real than others and they usually involve sex. Some are very pornographic; I am not sure how open you want me to be."

"I need you to me completely open with me."

"The dreams seem so real; I am almost certain I did the things I dreamed about, but sometimes they don't seem like something I would do. Again, these are snippets. It's like one minute I am doing one thing and then someone changed the channel, and I am doing something else."

"Do you ever see yourself or others?"

"No faces. Most of the dreams involve a big black man. I never see his face. In the most frequent dream, I am riding him maybe cowgirl style. His cock is really big, and I can feel him stretching me and I think 'he's stretching my cunt' and I really like it. His black hands are playing with my breasts, pinching my nipples and pulling on my nipple rings. I recognize the tattoos on my breasts and the rings. I am sure I did not know that I really had tattoos on my breasts before I had that dream for the first time. In the dream I love watching his hands on me, the contrast between the darkness of his hands and the paleness of my breasts. I must admit that sometimes when I have that dream, I know I have masturbated. I remember the orgasm and I smell myself on my fingers when I wake up."

"I am assuming that dream sexually arouses you, is it the size of his penis or the taboo of a white woman having sex with a black man?"

"Both I think, I don't have any memory have having sex with a white man before."

"Are you assuming white men have smaller penises?"

Her question caught me by surprise and left me stunned.

She saw how nervous I became and suggested that we continue another day. That day came three days later.

After the normal "how are you feeling" type questions, she said, "Regarding you dream about the black man you were having sex with, is it always the same man?"

"In those dreams I think so. I never see his face, but he is very well built in my dreams, I love running my hands across his pecs or reaching down and licking his chest."

"Could that be the same man you dreamed about before you woke up, the man

whose cock you were sucking?"

"I don't know for sure, but I don't think so."

"Why don't you think so?"

"Maybe size, I had the sense that the man I was fucking was very large."

"Is that the only man you had actual intercourse within your dreams?"

"There was a new dream last night, again in snippets and not linear. In the dream, I am on my hands and knees, and someone is fucking me from behind. I think it is the same man from the other dreams. Others are watching. I can't see their faces, but they are also black and stroking their cocks. Once the man inside me comes, another takes his place. At one point I realize so many men have come inside me that their come is running down my legs and pooling around my knees."

"What are you thinking about in this dream, are you horrified that so many men are using you?"

"This is really embarrassing. No, I am not horrified but there is a sense that I should be. I am looking at the pool of come and wanting to taste it. I take my hand and start scooping up the come running down my legs. I start licking the come off my fingers. Those things did seem familiar to me, licking come off my fingers. When I woke from my dream, I realized I was very sexually excited, I started masturbating and licking my fingers clean. That seemed very familiar to me, like I've done it a thousand times."

I started drifting off to sleep again and the psychiatrist said we'd get back together in a few days. She looked rather flush, and I wanted to ask her if she found my dreams sexually stimulating. Before she left, she turned and asked if I had any sense who the black man was.

"He is my black master," I said as I fell asleep.

I was sleeping about three or four times a day, sometimes just for an hour or two but all through the nights. Whether I was sleeping for an hour or eight, my dreams were always filled with sex. I could not wait to tell my psychiatrist about them. I was now well enough to leave my hospital room and an orderly wheeled me down to the shrink's office.

We exchanged the same pleasantries; she complemented how well I was recovering physically and asked if I had any clues to my identity. I told her I didn't, except for my dreams were always about sex, and my earliest memory is still waking up to the beat of the heart monitor.

"The last time we met, you said the man you had sex with was your black master, do you have any idea what prompted you to say that?"

"I really have no idea; it was a surprise to me that I said that. I know I was drifting

off to sleep when I said it, maybe I was back in my dream."

"Are you still having the same dream?"

"Yes and no, I frequently have the dream of me riding him cowboy style. There is a very short dream of him fucking my ass. That was very weird, I knew I was experiencing some pain but the feeling of having something large penetrating my ass seems familiar. There is another dream about a black man trying to push a large dildo into my cunt while I am sucking off a line of black men. Again, snippets but it felt like that happened several times. My position changes, laying down or kneeling."

"It appears that your dreams are very focused on sex and sex with black men. Is there anything traumatic about sex with this black man or the others. The kidnapper was a large black man, if you were kidnapped, could you be dreaming about him forcing you into these sex acts?"

"There is nothing traumatic in my dream that I recall, I seem to be a willing participant in the sex acts. In the dream with the dildo, I feel anxious that it won't fit inside me and if it doesn't I will be losing out on something. I'm thinking I need to stretch my cunt. Using that word also seems odd, especially when I say it out loud, like it is not a word I would normally use. But in my dream, that is the word I am using."

"Use of the 'c' word has become more and more socially unacceptable so it may be a word you would not use in social situations. Do these dreams invade your waking hours too?"

"In some ways, I usually wake up from those snippets very horny. And if a black man comes in my room, whether and orderly or a doctor, I find myself staring at their crotch to see how big their cocks are."

"What about the white men who come into your room?"

"White men don't have big cocks."

"How do you know that? Do you recall being with a white man?"

"I have no recollection of being with a white man. I am assuming at my age I probably had sex with a white man before. Sometimes I have trouble telling the difference between what I think in the dream and what I really think. I don't know what I really think because I don't know who I am. In my dream, I am happy having sex with black men. Have you ever been with a black man?"

"This is definitely getting off track and it is certainly not about me. We are trying to help figure out your identity and hoping something in your dream may help your memories come back. Let's end for today and maybe we can try hypnotism next time if you feel up for it."

The following is a transcript from my session with Jane Doe. For this session Jane has agreed to be hypnotized.

Jane: "I think the earliest memory is being with my black master, but I just call him master. I am sucking his cock and I love it. It is so big I can barely breathe while I am sucking on it."

Doctor: "Let's try and go back further, how did you meet him?"

Jane: "James Washington, that's his name, he was in prison. I was a psychiatrist assigned to the prison and I had also started studying law. His case fascinated me on many levels. He was charged with murder, assault, sexual assault, manslaughter and kidnapping several women. They used the plural but the case was only about one woman who was found dead. The state's case was flimsy at best. Washington testified that the woman's death was an accident, she choked to death on his cock. The state had a doctor testify that Mr. Washington must have pushed his cock with great force into the woman's throat as indicated by the tearing of the lining of her throat and damage to her vocal chords. Large clumps of her hair had been pulled out indicating that Mr. Washington had held her in that position while she suffocated. The were large quantities of Mr. Washington's semen in the victim's throat but the doctor believed she was either already dead or unconscious because there was no effort to swallow the semen."

"Washington also testified that the woman had come with him voluntarily. The state had a dozen people testify that the victim had been a strong church going woman who had recently married her childhood sweetheart. In the end, he was acquitted of most of the charges and convicted only accidental manslaughter and false imprisonment. But the jury sentenced him to the longest prison sentence possible."

Doctor: "What about the case sparked your interest."

Jane: "There was something about this man, that even though the jury was uncomfortable finding him guilty, they wanted him in prison for a long time. I wanted to find out what that was. And if what he said was true: why would a religious woman leave her new husband for him. I always wanted to write a book and thought he might be a good subject, so I decided to treat him."

Doctor: "Think back, what were your thoughts the first time you met him."

Jane: "We met in my office at the prison, he sat down on the couch but refused to lay down. I remember thinking how powerful he was, not just in muscles but there was an aura around him I can't describe. I instantly knew they had sentenced him for so long because they were afraid of him."

Doctor: "He was suspected of several other kidnappings."

Jane: "Yes, but none of those victims ever testified against him. Some were never found and those who were, swore that they had not been kidnapped. Three of the suspected victims were found dead and all were confirmed to be by suicide. Jimmy had an alibi for each of those deaths."

Doctor: "How did that first session go with Mr. Washington."

Jane: "He wanted to know why I wanted to see him, I said the warden believes you have anger issues and maybe I could help you learn to deal with them. He said, 'bullshit bitch, every mother fucker in this prison has anger issues, your lily-white ass really thinks people are happy here.' I was shocked at the way he spoke to me, and he stared it me with his piercing eyes. I was beginning to think this was a very bad idea and then I told him the truth, that I thought he would be a good subject for a book. 'What's in it for me bitch?' I said he would have more time out of his cell. He sat back thinking of it for a moment, his eyes running all over me making me feel almost naked and said, 'I'll tell you what, you dress all nice and pretty for me and I'll tell you what ever you want to know.' I found my self saying yes to the deal."