The Trial, Tales of the Device

By Peggy Buxton

Stan's travels to an exotic country to find loose, beautiful women seemed to be going as planed for the first week, until the big drunk man took offense he was talking to his wife and started a fight. Stan stood before the judge with three other people. His sentence: one month as a woman working as a hotel maid. At first, he thought it better than a person before: female sex slave with one leg.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peggy Buxton
• Release date: Jul 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466071827

Peggy Buxton

Author, wife, lover, and amputee. I have been missing my left leg for years. Growing up I felt that it should not be there, and it is has been a blessing to have it gone. Today's term for this condition is BIID and in the past simply referred to as being a 'wannabe'. I am a full-time crutch user. Like my husband, I find amputees fascinating. 'Devotee' is the frequently used term. My stories have characters that mirror my life in some manner - wanted/needed to be an amputee or want to live with an amputee. I make no apology for my descriptions of these people and there is no intent to take away from the suffering of some amputees. I love feedback on the stories, but I cannot promise to reply.

Book preview

The Trial

Tales of the Device

Peggy Buxton

Copyright 2011 by Peggy Buxton

Smashwords Edition

* * *

An officer prepared to lead people into the courtroom four at a time. Stan's group consisted of a woman probably in her late thirties, a girl with one arm in her late teens or early twenties, himself, and then another man. The man behind Stan whispered comments. The girl...probably something about.... There was a loud grunt as the officer prodded him with a baton.

The door opened before Stan could consider what the man was trying to say. The four walked before a judge with a white wig sitting behind a desk. He shuffled papers in a folder then looked at the woman, then back at the papers.

You again? He adjusted his glasses. Three counts of prostitution without a license and one count of public drunkenness. How do you plead?

Guilty. The woman actually smiled at the judge.

He nodded. I'm reassigning you. One year, A-368, twenty, Mattie, left leg above knee. He wrote on a piece of paper.

Thank you, your honor.

A female officer led her though another door as the girl stepped before the judge. He read some papers then looked at her sternly.

Sentence completed, the judge finally said.

Sir, your honor, may I speak?

Yes.

I wish to remain this way. I have a guardian to take care of me.

A distinguished looking and well-dressed older man stepped forward. Your honor. I wish to help this lady. We'll be leaving the country.

The judge smiled at the offer. We could restore her.

He was referring to the ability to return a person to their former state. The last man in line whispered that she had been an older man that had visited on a sex tour to brothels and caught a second time with women too young. Stan heard a grunt and knew the narrative was over.

Your honor, she began, we wish that I remain this way. She moved the arm stump to emphasize what she meant. The man nodded in agreement.

See the clerk and sign the papers. Next!

The well-dressed man took the girl's hand and led her out of the room. Stan stepped in front of the judge. Again, the judge read some papers.

First offence, fighting in public. How do you plead?

Guilty.

Stan had become more serious as he considered what the coded language for the first person meant and then girl's plea. Had the first person stayed a woman after a prior sentence and become a repeat offender? Was she to be twenty years old? Was it on purpose?

I'm reassigning you. One month, A-451, twenty-five, Eva. He wrote on a piece of paper.

The same officer led Stan though the same door as the woman. The room was empty except for a metal chair and metal table. She directed him to undress and then watched. A neatly folded blue denim dress and black running shoes lay on the table next to a paper bag.

Eva, hurry up! She slapped her own palm with the baton. Put your things in the bag.

Huh?

Quiet!

He sat naked on the cold metal chair as the woman fiddled with something for a moment. She pushed a button, and he felt an odd sensation. Looking down, he saw that he was now a female.

Okay, Eva, get dressed. Hurry up. The woman grabbed the bag and wrote on it then put Stan's belonging inside.

What happened?

You're assigned to A-451. In a month you'll get your body and belongings back.

He dressed and tied the laces on the shoes, still not sure what he looked like. The breasts were full, but there was no bra to wear. The rest of the body and legs all seemed slender. It felt strange to not have maleness between the thighs, but interesting.

Come on, Eva.

Where am I being taken?

The Grotto Bay Resort. It's swanky, good guests. It's your first time so don't be a fuck up.

A waiting bus took Eva to the resort. She never found what happened to the last man in line or more about the first two. A woman escorted her to a room, gave her a laundry cart, and then told her to fill it with supplies.

First time, Eva? The woman's nametag read Shirley. She leaned casually against the wall and watched. It's a bit of a shock, but you'll get used to it...being a woman. Eva continued loading the cart. Shirley shifted. You got a good body. You should see some of them. U-G-L-Y, ugly. She laughed.

Where do I live?

There's a dorm where a bunch of you live. First timers have it good.

Do we just work as maids?

If you want to do the full sentence, you do.

What else makes the time shorter?

Guests have needs. Shirley chuckled. Some men, and women, can be nice to women like you. With that body, yeah, you could cut your time in half.

Doing what?

Give me a break. You can't be that naive.

Oh-h, Eva groaned as the reality settled over her. Would I have to do both men and women?

Ha, so now you have a preference. Which?

I was a straight man....

"Darlin', you are not a man anymore. You're my bitch. If I want you to do something, you will do it. Do you have that cart filled yet?"

Eva pushed the heavy cart towards the door and followed Shirley to the elevator. She explained there were fifteen rooms to finish before lunch and more afterwards. The first room looked like a wild orgy had occurred there with sheets and blankets scattered everywhere. Piles of garbage and half-eaten food covered every piece of furniture.

Shirley looked around. Least they aren't still fuckin'. She laughed, and then showed Eva how to begin cleaning. The room was hot. Shirley said they could not turn the air conditioning on. After she finished the room, Eva's dress was clinging to her sweaty body. Fourteen more. Hurry up.

Eva sat in the lunchroom, more exhausted than ever before. Even summer jobs during college digging ditches in the hot sun had not been as hard. Maybe this female body wasn't as fit as Stan's body. The food seemed to be leftovers scraped from plates of unfinished meals in the restaurant. She was so hungry that it did not matter. She ate it anyway. Even the warm water with bits of something floating in it seemed like a delicacy.

The reason for the barroom brawl now lost to memory, even how long ago it had been. It was probably less than a dozen hours, but felt like years. Was this the way of justice in this country? Did everyone become female slaves? What happened to the girl with one arm, or the other woman that sounded as if she would be missing a leg?

Time's up, Shirley said from the doorway. You take that back to the kitchen.

Eva followed her like an obedient pet trying to avoid another beating. The cart wasn't as full, but felt a few hundred pounds heavier. She struggled to push it along the carpeted