Hobson's Choice
Keywords: Choice, Hobson's,
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Next
"© 2003 by Thrillerauthor
The expression "Hobson's Choice" is named after the keeper of a livery stable in seventeenth century England who required customers to accept the next horse available. Hence "Hobson's choice" means no choice at all."
* * *
"Young man, do you have anything to say for yourself before the Court pronounces your sentence?" The judge, a gaunt man with a hawk like face and bony hands protruding from his black robe, glowered down at the youthful defendant trembling before him.
"I just want to say how sorry I am."
"It's a little late for that, isn't it? An under-aged girl is pregnant with an unwanted child because you raped her, and you're sorry. You're about to find out what sorry really means."
Andrew Hobson glanced nervously around the courtroom for support. His lawyer, Ellen Marshall, looked down at her papers, while his mother sat in the first row with a stricken look on her face. The parents of the victim were across the aisle, fixing him with evil stares. He turned back to face the judge.
"From your record, it is clear that although you are a highly successful jockey, you are also an incorrigible womanizer. Aggravated rape, even by a man without any prior convictions, requires the sternest possible punishment. I therefore sentence you to life in prison, without possibility of parole."
Hobson's mind reeled as he tried to absorb what he had just heard. A lifetime in prison, where his slight physique and boyish face would guarantee that he would become the plaything of hardened criminals. "Your Honor, please don't do this to me," he cried.
"There is an alternative," the judge said.
"Anything, your Honor!"
"Under a new law recently signed by the governor, judges have wide leeway in fashioning sentences utilizing the latest medical technology. After reading the report of the court-appointed psychiatrist who examined you, the Court is prepared to order that you be surgically altered into a woman."
Hobson opened his mouth to protest, but he was too shocked to speak.
"Here is what will happen to you. First, you will be administered a massive dose of hormones, which will flood your body with estrogen and eliminate your production of testosterone. Next, your penis and testicles will be removed, and although the Court is not required to do this, you will be given a vagina. And to show you that I am not without mercy, at the urging of your psychiatrist, I will also authorize breast implants for you. You are a pretty boy, and you will make a lovely girl."
Pandemonium broke out in the courtroom. "Your honor," Hobson stammered.
"The choice is yours, Mr. Hobson."
He turned his lawyer. "Can't I appeal?"
"No, you pleaded guilty and threw yourself on the mercy of the Court."
"Some mercy! What should I do?"
Ellen Marshall, a well dressed woman in her late thirties, rose to address the judge. "Your Honor, if my client elects to undergo the surgical alternative, how long will he…I mean she, remain incarcerated?"
"The balance of the defendant's sentence will be suspended upon the completion of the procedure."
"Take it, Andrew!" she whispered. "You'll be able to ride again." Hobson looked back at his mother, who was sobbing into her handkerchief. She looked up and nodded her head, a look of indescribable sadness on her worn out face.
Hobson closed his eyes as he weighed the alternatives. Life in prison, or a lifetime as…a woman. From racing silks to silk and lace…from chasing skirts to wearing skirts…from stud to filly….
If he said no, he'd be a woman anyway, only in a men's prison. Either way, he was fucked. "Okay," he heard himself sigh.
The judge brought down his gavel. "Next case!"
Hobson was hustled out of the courtroom to the shouts of the girl's parents and the cries of his mother. "Cut his balls off!" and "My baby!" rang in his ears as he was whisked into a waiting police car and driven the short distance to a state hospital, used for inmates requiring surgery during their penitentiary stays. He expected to be placed in a holding cell, while the inevitable paperwork caught up with him, and was surprised when a doctor in a white coat met him at the emergency room entrance and escorted him into an examination room with two armed guards in tow. The doctor instructed the guards to wait just outside, and ordered Andrew to strip down to his shorts.
Andrew had dressed in his best suit and tie for his sentencing, and he morosely took them off and threw them on the floor, never to be worn again. The doctor was all business as he scanned Andrew's file. "All of the necessary paperwork has been attended to. Nothing like a court order to cut through the red tape. The new protocol for SRS in these circumstances calls for initiating transition and scheduling surgery as quickly as possible. No point in prolonging the inevitable. Pull down your shorts and bend over, please." While Andrew was staring at the floor, the doctor produced a hypodermic syringe with a long needle, and before Andrew could react, he inserted the needle into one of his ass cheeks.
"Ouch! What's that?"
"Hormones. Be still for a moment, please." The doctor pushed the plunger all the way down, flooding Andrew's body with a cocktail of estrogen, progestin, and an anti-androgen to eliminate his production of testosterone.
"Doctor, can I ask I question?" Andrew asked after he stood back up.
"Yes."
"Is the surgery reversible?"
The doctor chuckled. "I'm good, but I'm not that good. We're going to have to skin your penis to create a lining for your vagina, and after we amputate what's left, we'll try to make a nice little clitoris out of the stump. Your scrotum will be needed for your new labia. Does any of that sound reversible to you?"
Andrew started to shake uncontrollably. "I've changed my mind. Call the judge! I'll do life in prison."
"Sorry, young man," the doctor said brusquely. "You've just been chemically castrated. There's no turning back now."
Andrew cried out in despair. "No! I don't want to be a girl!"
"You should have thought about that before you made your decision. Perhaps the next time a young man is about to rape a girl, he'll think twice after he learns about you."
"Oh, God! Please, no!"
"The serum should take about an hour to work its way through your system. Say goodbye to your manhood." The doctor left him. Andrew stood shaking in his shorts, gripped by an ague of fear. There was a tap on the door, and an attractive blonde nurse in a white uniform entered. She stood a good six inches taller than Andrew. Seeing the ashen expression on his face, she said, "I see the doctor's bedside manner hasn't improved. Step on the scale, please." Still shaking, Andrew complied, and she played with the weights and measures. "Five feet five inches, one hundred and ten pounds," she said as she wrote it down on her clipboard.
Andrew tried to avoid eye contact with her, wondering how much she knew about his situation, until she handed him a glass jar. "Mr. Hobson," she said gently, "you have the opportunity to leave a sperm deposit, if you wish, in case you ever want to have children." When he looked at her, her eyes had the saddest expression. "I know this must be difficult for you. Let me know when you're through." Before he could respond, she went out into the hall and closed the door quietly behind herself.
Andrew stared at the jar and started to sob. How could he have let this happen to himself? In a trance, he pulled down his shorts and started to stroke his penis, but it wouldn't respond. The knowledge of what was about to happen to him, and the hideous words of the doctor, rang in his ears. After a few minutes, the nurse popped her head back in the door.
When she saw the size of Andrew's flaccid penis, she gasped. Although he had a jockey's physique, he was incredibly well hung, and his small stature only accentuated the size of his member. "What a shame," she said under her breath.
"Do you know what's going to happen to me?"
"Yes, I do. I think it's terrible, but I suppose you made the right decision."
"I don't want this to happen! I'm a guy, not a girl. Please, can't you help me?"
She locked the door and took his penis in her hands. "I can't change what's about to happen to you, but I can help you enjoy your last moments as a man." Andrew was speechless as she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth. In spite of the fear and torment, his body responded immediately, and he felt himself getting bigger and harder as she sucked on him. When he was almost ready, she twisted open the lid of the specimen container and deftly whipped him out of her mouth, stroking him with her delicate fingers as he started to ejaculate into the jar. After months of forced abstinence in a holding cell, his body erupted in spite of his terror, and she stared in amazement as he gushed into it, filling it to overflowing with gobs of hot semen.
Andrew gritted his teeth as the waves of pleasure began to subside, overwhelmed by the knowledge that they would be his last. Finally, he fell back against the wall, utterly spent. "This could make the Guinness Book of World Records," she said. Then she screwed the lid back on the jar, unlocked the door, and left him alone.
They came for him a few minutes later. Andrew had to be restrained by two orderlies and one of the guards before he was strapped down, screaming, to a gurney and wheeled into an operating room. He struggled ferociously until they finally put him under.
The next few weeks were spent in a haze of drugs and pain, punctuated by a recurring nightmare in which Andrew, chained to a mountain, writhed in agony as a hawk with the face of the judge gnawed on his testicles, again and again. But each time he woke up and looked down at himself, they weren't there.
* * *
Gradually, as the pain subsided and the drugs tapered off, Andrew began to come to terms with his new body. The first time he urinated without a bedpan, sitting down on the toilet in his private bathroom, he wept bitter tears at the realization of his loss.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Next
Keywords: Choice, Hobson's,