The boy told his story. He raped the girl and got caught. She wants him castrated and turned into a girl, and he's agreed to that. The girl's story matched the boy's story. It looked like the kind of simple case that we can deal with quickly, and it was turned over to our youngest girl, Amber, who deals with offenders who are under eighteen. She told him, "We usually do castrations in the evening, giving the offender the day for his last chance at sex before he's castrated. Since you're getting sexual reassignment surgery, your castration will take place in the morning. That mean you can enjoy a full day of sex with me tomorrow." He said, "I don't want sex first, I just want it over with."

I checked, and the surgery could be done a day earlier than we'd expected. Amber told him that she needed to evaluate him and collect semen for our sperm bank this afternoon. He grumbled, but cooperated. The next morning, Amber told him, "This morning, before I castrate you, I'll be doing what I always do before a castration: Checking to see that your sexual organs are working properly before I change that." He objected, too strongly in her opinion. Boys never turned down a last few ejaculations before they were castrated. Amber stroked his penis with one hand and massaged his testicles with the other while she questioned him. He was obviously uncomfortable, and she told him, "I'm not going to castrate you until you explain what's wrong."

He finally explained, "I'm a girl in a boy's body. I always thought of myself as she, not he. I've been living as a girl since before I started kindergarten and have gone through puberty as a boy until I was ready for surgery to turn my body into a girl's body to match my girl's mind. It's almost impossible to get surgery at my age and you'd seemed like the ideal solution. The girl with me has been my closest friend since we were three and we made up the rape story so you'd give me the surgery I need. We're in a hurry, we need to stop my puberty as a boy immediately. This is my first time to dress as a boy in ten years, I don't like my boy parts, and I'm very uncomfortable right now."

Amber came to me and asked what to do. Her sympathy was with the two girls, but would we get in trouble if we did as they wanted. I said, "No, what you've learned is privileged information. You can change what you do based on that information, but making a decision based on privileged information is your responsibility. Why do you think you're so well paid?" Amber said, "I thought that the surgery was expensive. Won't anyone object to the cost?" I told her, "You put in prostheses and give out controllers without worrying about the cost don't you?" Yes. "Well, they are also expensive, and you don't need them if surgery immediately follows the castration. If every person under eighteen in the country who wanted sexual reassignment surgery came to you, your expenses wouldn't be high enough for anyone to get upset about it. You're expected to be a high-maintenance woman and very few people have access to a breakdown by category of your expenses."

Amber interrupted, "A what?" I explained, "A woman who regularly costs someone a large amount of money, usually buying her expensive jewelry, clothes, trips, and the like. Your expenses are different, of course. Prostheses, controllers, lab tests, sexual reassignment surgery, hospital costs, expensive tutors, fancy room service meals, keeping many of the boys you castrate the full two weeks when the rest of us would have taken less than a week, more expensive clothes than most of us wear; I could go on and on. You're one of the more expensive girls here, but no one minds that. It isn't easy being the youngest and having to deal with what we consider the two worst groups to deal with: rapists in their twenties who don't feel any guilt for what they've done and boys who the older girls feel sorry for and would refuse to castrate.

"Anyway, don't waste your time thinking about the cost of things. We never tell new girls the cost of things because we don't want them to consider that in making decisions. There isn't any one expense that you could incur that is high enough to be questioned unless you decided to do something like borrow one of the state police's executive turboprop planes and some bodyguards from the executive protection service and spend half a day each visiting all of the prosecutors in the state. If you have that kind of ideas, you'd better be prepared to explain to the governor why it's necessary." "Has anyone ever done anything like that?" "Yes, one of my predecessors did exactly that.

"She could have been driven around the state, of course, but that would have made the order of her visits predictable, and that was ruled out on security grounds. Occasionally we make a serious enemy without realizing it, and security occasionally hears about threats and takes them seriously."

Amber said, "I don't think I'll be flying around at my age." "Don't bet on it. Let me tell you about one of your predecessors; I'll call her Jane. She got a call from a sheriff on the far side of the state. A guy I'll call John who she'd released had called 911 and said that he didn't want to go to prison and he could feel himself losing his self-control. He asked the responding deputy to take him to the sheriff, or if he was unavailable, the prosecutor. They'd know how to help him.

"The sheriff asked John what was wrong and he said he'd been castrated at our facility and that Jane had done it. He said that he thought that something had gone wrong with one of his prostheses. He felt like his hormones were fluctuating rapidly. The sheriff called us and talked to Jane. She asked how far he was from an airport that could accommodate one of the state police's executive turboprop planes. Five minutes; those planes are designed for short runways. She talked to John, told him she would get there quickly, and calmed him down somewhat. She told the sheriff she'd call him back with an arrival time estimate. Could he meet her at the airport with John and provide her some assistance with her equipment? Yes, he could.

"She called the sheriff back after a few minutes with an approximate arrival time and he asked how she could get there that quickly. She said that he'd said it was an emergency, she agreed, and the state police and their pilots don't argue when someone with the right to do so declared an emergency. When he met the plane at the airport, two men got off, one walked over to him, and they showed each other their badges. He hadn't expected her to have executive protection service bodyguards. Then Jane got off the plane and a third bodyguard stayed on the ramp and a fourth stood at the door of the plane.

"She told the sheriff she'd asked him to help her because it was bad form to ask bodyguards to do other things, she hadn't wanted to take more of them so she could bring someone to help her, and the sheriff and the prosecutor were the only ones she could talk to about her work without prior permission. He said that he knew what she did and understood the need for tight security. He got John out of his car and they got on the plane, leaving two bodyguards outside to keep people away.

"She got John calmed down, then got out the things in the emergency kit she'd brought with her. She put a warm air blower to work warming John's scrotum. She used a prostheses control to find that the right prosthesis claimed it was working and the left had a large red message, ‘NO RESPONSE.' She checked his hormone levels and some were far into the red danger region. She told John that she had to do more checking, but it looked like he was right. His left prosthesis appeared to be malfunctioning and from his hormone levels, she assumed that he must feel awful. Yes. She turned the display to each person present in turn, not saying a word. Everyone got the message. I don't know if John is going to survive.

"She got out a portable, high resolution ultrasound machine to see what she was doing and told the sheriff it would save time if he could run it. He said he'd seen his son-to-be with one, so he knew what they did. She positioned it to look inside the guy's scrotum and showed the sheriff how to use one trackball to control what direction the displayed image was taken from. A second one moved the image up and down or left and right. One knob worked like the focus on a camera lens, controlling the distance to the object in focus, a second worked like the zoom control on a lens, changing the magnification, and a third worked like at aperture setting on a lens, controlling the depth of field.

"The sheriff said it was obviously designed for ease of use, and started practicing. She told him that each prosthesis had a small hole in it. She would need him to know how to zoom in on the hole in the left one. While he practiced, she got out a diagnostic controller for the prosthesis and some medical supplies. He said that this one was a lot better than the one used on his wife and she told him it was undoubtably also a lot more expensive.

"As soon as the sheriff said he was ready, she moved the ultrasound probe out of the way so the warm air could finish relaxing John's scrotum and cremaster muscles. Then she repositioned the probe and had the sheriff move the ultrasound image as she worked. She put a diagnostic needle, which carried an electronics cable rather than concentric tubes, through his scrotum and into the orifice of the prosthesis and ran diagnostics, which the prosthesis, as expected, failed. She forced it to shut down completely, used her regular control to use the other prosthesis to measure his hormone levels again, and gave him shots to counter those that were causing the trouble.

"Once the guy was feeling somewhat normal again, she told him and the sheriff that she'd have to take him back with her to replace the defective prosthesis. It was the first one that had failed, and it was just her bad luck she'd been the one to use it. She asked the sheriff if he'd like to come back with her and see things through. He'd have to drive himself and John back in a rental car, but the state would pay the bill. He said he'd like that and called his wife with his excuses.

"The sheriff asked why ‘emergency' got a faster response from her than he'd ever gotten before. She explained our bonus system and said that pride, self-interest, and the desire to alleviate suffering all said to go immediately, and given the number of things beyond redline it was definitely an emergency. She'd seen yellow before, but never red.

"She told everyone that her one remaining worry was John's liver. She thought that it would be OK, but couldn't be sure and it'd have to be watched. Did the sheriff know a doctor he could trust? The sheriff called and said, ‘Can you come to the airport now and see a patient who you'll need to monitor for a possible kidney failure for a few days starting tomorrow?' ‘Sure, I know you wouldn't ask that if it wasn't important.' ‘We're in the guarded state police executive turboprop at the airport. Make sure you've got your ID in your hand before you get close.'

"She said she'd like to let John have a rest after the doctor saw him and before flying back. It was near lunchtime; if the prosecutor was free, what about inviting him for lunch so she could meet him? The sheriff called and asked, ‘Can you join me and a surprise guest for lunch?' ‘Sure, when?' ‘As soon as you can get here.' He continued with the instructions he'd given the doctor.

"The doctor arrived, was quickly briefed, shown the hormone levels just before John had been given shots and those now, and given a list of the shots he'd been given. He asked Jane where and when she'd learned endocrinology. She named the tutor she'd had when she was six and he asked if she'd had the same caliber of tutors for anatomy and surgery? Yes.

"He asked if he could use the ultrasound machine on John. Yes. He asked how early it could determine the sex of a fetus. A week or two before the end of the first trimester. He asked John if he consumed alcoholic beverages. Jane had convinced him to quit a few months ago, and he'd been a light drinker before that. He told John that he thought that his liver would be OK, but he'd keep a close watch on it.

"Jane got out a printer and made copies of the records he'd need and he left with them. The prosecutor soon arrived, took one look at the girl and John, now asleep, and asked, ‘What was the emergency?' She replied ‘A defective prosthesis; look at the readings when I arrived,' showing him the saved display, ‘just before I started giving him shots,' showing him another saved display, ‘and after I finished giving him shots,' showing him a third saved display.

"The prosecutor asked the sheriff, ‘What happened when the two of you saw the first display?' and he replied, ‘It was like being at the scene of a bad accident, with just me and one medic there. Training takes over and you have instant, serious professional behavior.'

"She brought the sheriff back with her to watch her replace the prosthesis and drive John back the next day. There is a small, interface part of the prosthesis that attaches to the body in place of the testicle, and it was working properly. That meant that she'd done everything right when she'd installed the prosthesis and didn't have to do any delicate surgery. The prosthesis was easy to change if the interface didn't need to be changed. That, of course, was the purpose of the interface.

"She'd made three valuable new friends in that county and all of them knew that John might have died if she hadn't gotten there quickly. Let her experience be a lesson for you. If something needs doing, don't hesitate, just do it and don't ask what it'll cost. Until you learn that, we don't want you to know what things cost."

Amber went back to the transgender girl and said, "I asked for help in deciding what to do and was firmly told that our conversation was privileged and I couldn't ask for help. I'm being paid to make my own decisions. I asked some questions about cost, and got a long lecture about the importance of not making my decisions based on cost. All that means that your surgery will take place today, but first, like it not, I'm going to start by making sure that your boy parts are in good working order. I understood now why you don't like it, but that won't keep me from seeing how many ejaculations I can cause in the time I have available. I enjoy my work, I've learned to taste the difference between semen with sperm in it and semen without any sperm, and I'm going to taste the sperm from your testicles before I remove them." The girl said, "All right, I've gotten the message: shut up and stop complaining if I want you to do what I've asked you to do. But how do you know that I have any sperm?" "Because the sperm bank always checks that when then get a sample, and inform me of the results."

The transgender girl left here a transsexual girl, just as she wanted. Before she left, she asked Amber if she'd be able to help other transgender girls. Amber told her that there wouldn't be any problem as long as it was done very quietly and what she was doing never became public knowledge. She's done two more and each had learned from a private Internet forum that there was a way to get transsexual surgery done free when you were below eighteen. Each transgender girl told the same story. When she'd inquired, she'd been asked to supply a phone number and a time the next day for someone to call her. The girl who called asked very detailed and explicit questions, many of which someone who wasn't a transgender girl living as a girl would have found very difficult to answer quickly.

When she said that she was ready for surgery, the transsexual girl she'd talked to on the phone had shown up, verified her story, and given her explicit instructions, some of which would only make sense to someone who knew the area where she was going. She was very surprised when the driver turned into a prison and wondered if she could possibly be at the right place. There was, however, a building that matched the description she had and when she gave her name at the door she was on the list of expected visitors.

Meeting me was a shock, particularly when she realized that I considered the entire building my facility. Then she met Amber, who told her that boys were her special responsibility; the other girls dealt with men. I told her not to worry, by tomorrow evening she'd be out of surgery. I asked her if she understood her instructions about the story she had to tell in a few minutes. Yes, they had their story down pat, but why the deception if everyone knew what was happening. Because Amber and I were the only ones who wouldn't think that the cover story was the truth.

I told her that when she left my hospital she'd return to this floor to recover. She kept to her cover story, and left as a happy transsexual girl.