Registered Sex Offender Part 12: Surprise Visit

Chip was just dozing off when his name was called on the hailer. He had been lying on his cot all day, popping aspirin he and the others had been hoarding, smoking, and suffering. He had skipped lunch completely, declaring that he just didn't feel well. This was not an uncommon ailment on Sunday, especially among the boys who were not expecting visitors. Now it was two o'clock, and Chip was just starting to feel human again.

"Great!" he muttered to himself as he approached the front gate, "Just fucking great! Janet!" He was about to tell the staff he was just not up to visitors today, which was his right, when a broad smile came across his face. My first day as a eunuch, he thought, And already it's paying off!

"Janet!" he exclaimed. "What a surprise! What brings you to this end of the world?"
"I just had to see you, Chip," she said all bubbly and friendly. "I got some wonderful news! You're gonna be so thrilled!"

"So what's this great news you got?" Chip asked when they were seated at a picnic table. He had been moving very slowly and painfully, but of course Janet hadn't noticed. He suddenly realized that she never noticed anything about him, if it wasn't related to his sex. His sex! The sex he no longer had! Christ, this was so incredibly delicious!

"I've gotten married, Chip! I had a ring, but we had to take it back cause he couldn't keep up the payments. But we'll get another one soon's you're out."
"Me? What's that got to do with anything?"
"Chip, you don't think I'd forget my little brother, do you? John knows all about you, Chip. He's seen your picture, and he thinks you're adorable! He's bisexual, y'know. And when I told him about your anatomically perfect body, he got all excited. You're in for a great time when you get out, Chip!"
"Yeah," Chip reflected. "Wonderful! And I suppose we're gonna make more babies?"
"Oh, yes! John isn't really interested in being a father. He says that's your department, long as we let him watch. Isn't he wonderful?"
"Yeah, wonderful! So I get to make more babies like Scott, right?"
"Uh-huh. Exactly."

"Except for a few minor points," Chip started to laugh, a hearty, hideous mocking laugh. "Y'see, big sister, I'm not anatomically perfect any more. I'm not anatomically correct any more. I'm not even a man any more!"
"Chip, what are you talking about?"
"I'm talking," Chip sneered as he stood up, "about the fact that I got my nuts cut off. I've been castrated, Janet! I'm not gonna make any more babies with you or anybody else. But then I didn't make the first one, did I Janet?"
"Of course you did! You're Scotty's father!"
"Yeah, right, sis. And just exactly where did those black genes come from?"
"Chip, how can you say such a thing? Your poor little son..."

"He's not my son!” Chip spat at her. “And besides, by the time I get outta here, you'll probably be fucking him too, right? Well, you just go back and tell your precious John bisexual fuck stick that he's gonna have to service you himself, because your little brother is outta business. My balls are gone! My cock is shrinking! I'll never grow a beard, never have hair on my legs, never have another hardon. I'll probably always have a girl's voice. It's over, Janet. And now if you'll excuse me, I don't feel really well."

"Chip," Janet pleaded, "what's happened to you? Why are you talking so crazy?"
"I'm talking sense, Janet, and that's why you don't recognize it. For the first time in my life I'm talking sense. I was gonna show you what was left of my genitals; I couldn't hardly wait! But then I realized that it's private, and you invaded that privacy far too much. What’s mine is mine and no one else’s, including yours. Now you're just gonna have to take my word for it. It's over, Janet! Good-bye, big sister!"

Chip would have liked to just leave Janet sitting there. He was hurting too much to walk her back to the gate, but it was expected of all inmates to escort their visitors wherever they went. Chip didn't want to attract attention to himself, so he followed the protocol. Then he made a mental note to have her removed from the list of people from whom he would accept visits. Another of life's little pleasures in here, he thought with a grin as he headed back to the dorm, we don't have to see anyone we don't want to see. It's like having our own private secretary! This place isn’t all bad!

"You okay, Chip?" Ed asked on Monday morning. He had heard about the exchange with Janet, and although he agreed that Chip was better off without her, he was a little confused by what he'd told her. It didn't make a lot of sense; or did it? Chip and Sean, known for his finesse with a knife, had been hanging around together for quite some time. Could he possibly have... Nah! That's ridiculous! But on the other hand, Chip was sitting before him now, had lowered himself into the chair very gingerly. He was very pale and sickly looking, very much unlike the gorgeous, vibrant teen that usually bounced into his office. And the way he was moving! Ed wanted to get Chip's pants off more right now than he'd ever wanted anything; but he didn't want Chip to suspect his fantastic suspicions.

"Course I'm okay," Chip said brightly. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"
"I heard you had a very heated, loud discussion with your sister yesterday."
“Sure did. And that's part of the reason I'm so fine today. I finally saw her for what she really is, and I told her she can just go find herself another anatomically correct body, 'cause this one's flawed."
"Flawed? Whadda ya mean flawed?"
"Well," Chip said with a grin, "Doctor patient confidence?"
"Always, Chip. What have you done?"
"I... well, I had a little surgery over the week end."
"Chip," Ed said sternly, "what have you done?"
"Let's just say that I'm never gonna get myself in trouble with sex again. I'm never gonna hurt anybody again with my... er... weapon."

"Chip, I can have you strip searched. Do you want that?"
"You wanna see?" he chided. "Never seen a eunuch before? Okay, here ya go. But remember, doctor patient privilege!"

Without further discussion, Chip stood up and dropped his prison issue cotton pants. When he pushed his briefs to the floor, Ed gasped in horror. He could see two streaks of dried blood on Chip's scrotum, the rather messy attempts to sew up the two wounds; but there was very obviously nothing inside.

"Jesus Christ, Chip," Ed exclaimed. "Are you crazy?"
"Yeah, Chip grinned as he positioned himself so Ed could have a better look, "I probably am. But I feel a whole lot lighter. Actually I think I have never been more sane in my life."

"When?" Ed demanded. "How? Who? Chip, did Sean do this to you?"
"No, Ed, I did it myself. I been planning it for months."
"Chip, do you have any idea what you've done?"
"Yeah, I think I do. I think I know exactly what I've done."
"Chip," Ed said, "I have to report this. You could get blood poisoning, or God knows what kinda infection! If they ever found out I knew and didn't report in..."

"You can't!" Chip reminded, "I told you in confidence. What're you gonna say, that you forcibly took my pants down?"

"Chip, this is serious! I can't keep this to myself!"
"Why not? What're they gonna do, put 'em back in? That's gonna be a little tough, cause the last time I saw 'em, some bird was flying away with one. The other just disappeared after I threw it on the ground. It was prob’ly lunch for a very happy rat."

"Perhaps there's something they can do..." Ed offered helplessly.
"There's nothing can be done, Ed. I've researched it pretty thoroughly. And besides, there's nothing I want done."
"But, Chip! How do you know..."
"I know exactly, Ed. I know that I will stop maturing immediately. I may even regress a little. My penis will probably shrivel up some. I'm counting on that! I'll lose a lot of body hair, not that I had that much anyway. My voice will stop changing, and might even change back a little. I'll probably stop growing too. So I'll be a fifteen year old boy forever! How bad can that be?"

"But what... what about when you're older?"
"Oh, yeah! I guess we all grow old, don't we? Well, as I understand it, I got two choices. I can take testosterone replacement and grow old fairly normally, or I can do without and just kinda flip from a young boy to a very old man almost overnight. From what I've read, testosterone starvation prevents aging and maturity, but accelerates decay. And so, I get to be a kid for forty or fifty years, then I get sick and die. I die young, suddenly, and definitely! Now go ahead and tell me what's wrong with that!"

"Chip," Ed said furiously, "I oughta take you over my knee! You crazy little shit!"
"Please don't right now," Chip grinned. "I'm pretty sore. Right now you don’t haveta spank me, just make me walk and you’ll get more results."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Yes I am," Chip agreed, a little more seriously now. "I'm enjoying the fact that I'm no longer Chip Stockdale, cock with legs, stud extraordinaire, pervert, fucking machine. If you like me now, it's gotta be for who I am, not what I got, because I got nothing! I don't screw any more, because I can't!" Then he got really serious.

"I only told you because I thought you'd understand, Ed. I was feeling so hopeless, and I couldn't do anything about it. It seemed every time I took that thing outa my pants, I was hurting somebody, or causing somebody to die. And lots of times, I knew I shouldn't be doing what I was doing, but I couldn't help myself. Now I'm free, Ed! I'm free of all the shit I couldn't seem to control. So if you want to go ahead and tell, then do it. But all you're gonna do is get me in a lot of trouble. Go ahead and read about it, but there's nothing that can be done. Did you know a baby boy has his lifetime supply of sperm when he's born? It's all stored in his tiny little nuts. They're gone, Ed, and good riddance! Balls, lifetime supply of sperm, testosterone poisoning, sex drive, hardons, all gone!"

"Chip," Ed said, "supposing I agreed not to say anything. Would you tell me the truth?"
"I think I've already proved I tell you the truth."
"Okay, between you and me. Did Sean do this to you?"
“You crazy? You think I'd let that butcher at my balls? I told ya, Ed, I did it myself."
"But the pain!"
"Uh-huh. It hurt like holy fucking hell! But it was better than living with any more hurt and death and misery. Pretty soon, if I'm lucky, I'll have a little spout to pee through and that's all. And I can't wait, Ed! I can't wait!"

Chip managed to convince Ed that there would be no point in reporting the incident. Ed was still convinced that Sean was involved, but Chip insisted he had planned and executed the whole thing himself. Ed did discuss it with some of his professional friends outside the prison system, saying only that he had a young patient who had castrated himself. None had ever heard of such a thing before, but they suggested anyone who would do that to himself must be very sick indeed! But Ed wondered. What Chip had said had made so damn much sense! Ed did do his own research, and came up with exactly what Chip had told him. Damn you, he thought to himself, why do you have to be so smart? And why can't I get you off my mind? And how can such a lovable, sweet kid get shit on so much?

Ed replayed the subliminal messages Chip had received for the hundredth time. There was no doubt anyone hearing that message over and over would learn to hate his sexuality, and therefor his genitals, eventually. Well, he thought, maybe now that he’s castrated himself he won’t hate himself so much. Maybe, just maybe, he’s right. Maybe now he can get on with his life and forget all that other nonsense. But if he were to face the truth, Ed didn’t really believe that a simple cut was the end of it.

Sean had been transferred to an adult facility when he turned eighteen. Chip missed him terribly for a while, but by now he was beginning to learn how to let go. He'd had lots of practice, and it seemed he would have lots more before his stay at the expense of the State was through. He and Sean were never lovers, nor did either of them desire such a relationship. When Sean left, a lot of other boys made their move, but Chip let it be known in no uncertain terms that he was not interested. Of course everyone knew of his operation, so he was considered undesirable by many of the boys. And so Chip was left pretty much alone sexually, which suited him just fine. So he concentrated on his schooling and his music. Oh, yes, his music!

When he was in Central Prison recovering from appendicitis, Chip got involved with a band that was forming there. He was invited to sing a few songs, which he did. The band members were quite impressed, but of course the affair only lasted a few days until Chip was returned to his own facility. But the seed had been sewn. Chip immediately set about to learn to play the guitar, and he took to it like a duck to water.

When he disrupted his normal maturation process, Chip developed a voice that was quite distinctive. It had the characteristics of both boy and man, with the definite flavor of a grown woman thrown in. But its most valued characteristic was the strength. Chip could belt out a song that was heard throughout the compound and into the street beyond. He wrote songs and sang them, allowing his music to transport him to places he'd only been able to dream about since his arrest: Home; open fields; dances and parties; county fairs; and of course, wholesome, healthy, normal love affairs. He knew he'd never had a love affair that could be described by any of those adjectives, but that didn't stop him from reading about them and longing for them. Having one's testicles removed, Chip discovered, did not negate one's need for love, only the physical consequences of such love.

Chip was seventeen when his parents finally asked if they could visit. He needed no time to think about it, no consideration. He was ready, he said. "What're you gonna say to them?" Ed wanted to know. Chip's friendship with Ed had solidified and mellowed to the extent that they were much more like friends than analyst/ patient. Chip had eventually confided that Sean and some other buddies had indeed performed Chip's castration; but by the time he learned the truth, Ed had come to agree that it was probably for the best. And to their knowledge, no one else on the staff was aware; although if they had simply taken a good look at Chip, it was obvious that he was very immature for his age, and seeming to become more so.

"I don't know what I'll say," Chip mused. "It's been almost three years since I've seen them. To be honest, I don't even know how I feel about them. I suppose I'll tell them how I feel, but first I have to figure it out myself. I'm hoping I'll know after I see them."
"They seem genuinely anxious to see you," Ed offered.
"Yeah," Chip laughed. "Probably to tell me again what a rotten piece of shit I am."
"Do you blame them for what's happened?"
"No, Ed. Of course not! And I think you know it."
"Yeah," Ed allowed, "I guess that was a dumb question, wasn't it?"
"Very!"

"Chip!" Mrs. Stockdale gushed as she embraced her son, "it's so good to see you!"
"Hello, Mother," Chip said stiffly as he pulled away and shook hands with his father.
"Mother?' she questioned. "What happened to Mom?"
"I honestly don't know, Mother... er... Mom," he answered. "I guess it got lost somewhere along the way. What the hell did happen to my Mom anyway?"

"Chip, are they treating you all right? You sure don't seem to have grown very much."
"Yeah, well, I guess I've kinda stunted my growth. You know, smoking too much, and... well... other things."
"Do you get enough to eat, Chip? Do they feed you well?"
"Yes, Mother. I've been here three years now, so I don't guess the food is too bad or I'd have starved to death."

"Chip," his father said sternly, "this isn't easy for us. we're just trying to... to get to know you again."
"Why, Dad? Why is that suddenly important? And what’s this about AGAIN? You’ve never known me."

"Chip," his mother said, "Dr. Barker tells me there's a good chance you could get out soon. And it'll seem awful strange to you, coming home to a house full of strangers."
"A house full?"
"Yes, well, Janet and John are still there with little Scott."
"Oh, yeah. Little Scott. We mustn't forget little Scott, MY baby!"

"Chip, we had no way of knowing..."
"You're right, Dad, you had no way of knowing. How the hell could you possibly know? How could you know anything? You weren't even there most of the time! And when you were... Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter any more."

"Chip," Dad said a little more softly, "do you blame us for what happened?"
"No, Dad, I don't." Chip looked at his parents. They truly were strangers! "What I did, I did. I'm paying for it, and I'm trying to do it without asking for any help."
"Dr. Barker says you're doing really well. He says you're even keeping up in school. He says you'll be having a hearing soon..."
"The hearing was three months ago, Mother. The judge said he was impressed with my progress, but he couldn't let me out because I had no home to go to. Where were you then, Mom?"

"There'll be other hearings..."
"Sure will. There's another one coming up in a year or so. It's to decide whether to release me or transfer me to an adult facility. You see, my sentence is ten years, and four from ten is six. I'll still have six years to go, but I can't serve it here because I won't be a child. You hear that, Mother? My childhood is gone! Fucked! Kaput!"

"Chip," Dad said as his wife started to cry, "if all you're gonna do is lay blame, perhaps we shouldn't have come. We had hoped you wouldn't make this difficult."
"I told you, Dad, I'm not laying blame. But I do have to admit that the past four years woulda been a little easier if I'd had a mother and father. It really would've been nice," Chip said as he too began to cry, "if I'd had someone to hug me in that courtroom when the judge sentenced me to ten years. It would've been nice when I damn near died with appendicitis to know that someone cared. Did you even know I was sick? The other guys talk about going home all the time, but I don't. Know why? Do you care why? Because this is my home! I'm in jail, fer Chrissake, and I like it! I want to stay!

"I sit here Sunday after Sunday, while other guys have visits from their sisters and brothers, moms and dads, but I don't have much company. So please excuse me if I don't act just right because I haven't had much practice."
"Janet used to come, but you sent her away..."
"Yeah, I guess I did. How thoughtless of me! Just because she came here harping at me and trying to keep me on a guilt trip, accusing me of all sorts of things including the mess she's made of her life. And I sent her away! Imagine!"

Chip lit another cigarette with shaking hands. His father watched, but said nothing. Chip wanted to rant and rave on, but it just wasn't in him. He discovered that he didn't care. He had harbored all that anger all this time, and now that he had a chance to vent his feelings, the anger melted like so much ice on a hot sidewalk. It just didn't matter any more. Chip had his own agenda now. He had a life to build, and this time no one was going to fuck it up.

"Chip," his dad said more gently than Chip would have imagined, "what can we do for you? We want to make it up to you, Chip, and help you get your life back together if we can. What can we do?"
"I honestly don't know, Dad. I'd give anything if I could just have a mom and dad, but I don't know..."
"We'll hire a lawyer and see if we can get you home, okay?"
"No, Dad, please don't do that. I'd get all messed up with school, and besides, I couldn't live in the same house with Janet. Just love me, Dad. But for now, I'm better off here."
"Can we visit you?" his mother asked.
"I'll leave your name on the list. But I can't promise I'll be your little boy, overjoyed to see you. Of course I like visitors, but I'm sorry, I just can't promise any more than that."

The visit didn’t last much longer after Chip’s last answer. When his parents were gone, Chip went back to his dorm and lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling and wondering why in the world they had come in the first place. He realized with a bit of a start that he had indeed blamed them for all that had happened, but he didn’t any more. He had hated them beyond belief for abandoning him when he’d first been arrested, but now that too was gone. But try as he might, he could not develop any feeling for them. They were not parents or family, they were just people he knew. He decided that if he ever saw them again, he would not discuss his situation, his past, his life. He would try his best to be friendly, but he would not expose himself to more hurt by allowing himself to love them. He had done that once and they hadn’t wanted his love; now the tables were turned. He didn’t want theirs.

"I got a full report from your parents," Ed said when he saw Chip again Thursday afternoon. "You were pretty rough on them, weren't you?"
"I thought I was easy on them," Chip argued. "But I told them the truth, so if they can't handle that, there's not much I can do."
"They don't know whether you want them to come again or not."
"I told them I'd leave their names on the list. What more can I do?"
"Chip," Ed sighed, "your mother could really have used a hug, or maybe a kiss on the cheek. They would really have liked some sign that you appreciated their visit. Was that too much to ask?"
"Yes, Ed, I'm afraid it was. I won't lie to them and tell them I was thrilled with their visit, that I can't wait to go home. What I told them is that my home is here. It’s not all bad in here, you know, from all I’ve heard about what goes on outside."

"You know that's crazy, Chip."
"Is it? Is it so terrible to be content with who you are and what you are and where you are? Is that really so crazy?"
"It is when what you are is a con, and where you are is in jail. This is temporary, Chip. You leave next year, whether you check out or just change addresses. You have one more year here, max!

"Anyway," Ed said in total frustration, "What do I tell them if they ask?"
"Tell them I meant exactly what I said. I'll be pleased to have them visit again, but just don't expect their little boy to come running to meet them and fall all over myself to show how much I appreciate their visit. Their little boy is gone. Not that they ever had a little boy anyway."
"I wonder," Ed said as he regarded the small frame in front of him. "I really wonder if the little boy in you will ever die."

"Can we please talk about something else?" Chip sighed wearily. "I've about had it talking about whether I'm a little boy or not, and whose I am."
"As a matter of fact," Ed said as he shuffled some papers, "there are some things I need to discuss with you. First is High School, and the second is your constant nagging to take Karate. And the third is music. I think I have some pretty good news for you."
"I could use some. What's up?"

"Chip, you have been accepted to take part in the graduation ceremonies at West Side High School, if you're interested."
"But... I never took a single class there! How..."
"Their principal has seen your file, and looked over your grades and some of the work you've done. Some of your old classmates from Creedmoor High have been contacted and they all vouched for you. The principal says he'd be honored to place you in the graduating class, on certain conditions."
"Conditions? What sorta conditions?"

"You will have to go to the school in handcuffs and leg irons, with a deputy Sheriff. You'll be introduced as who and what you are - not in a derogatory way, but as an example of what a kid can do when he sets his mind to it. After the ceremony you can meet any who wish to meet you, but you'll be in chains.. That was what the Sheriff's department insisted on. I’m sorry, I know that’d be pretty humiliating for you, but it’s the best I can do.”
"That's it?" Chip said suspiciously. "I gotta wear the State's special jewelry and be introduced as a con? And for that I get a High School diploma?"
"Chip, lots of kids would tell me to stick it."
"I'm not lots of kids. I'm Chip Stockdale, eunuch, convicted felon, jailbird. I'm not ashamed of it, Ed. And I certainly have no problem with a few chains, if it means I get to mingle with real people for a while and walk away with a diploma in my hand. Tell them I accept, gratefully. Any of 'em want their asses kissed? Boots licked? I'll do it!"
"I doubt that'll be necessary, Chip," Ed laughed. "A simple display of good manners will do fine."

"I have also managed to get you into a Karate class. It's halfway across town, but I think you'll be pleased. Pretty well the same deal holds. You go with a Sheriff's deputy, in chains both ways. The cop will unchain you in the dojo and stay by the door. If you try to run, he'll shoot you with no hesitation. Other than that, you're free to do whatever while you're there. The cops that'll be taking you out are off-duty, donating their time because they believe me when I say you're worth it, so don't fuck with 'em."
"I was hoping to have lessons in here, so the rest of the guys could take part too," Chip observed.
"They don't want to, Chip, and the guards certainly don't want a bunch of black belts in here. I was only able to pull this off because every guard in the place signed a petition saying that he believes that you will not use the skills you learn to cause any trouble."
"Every guard?"
"Every single one, Chip. Congratulations!"

"Man!" Chip said as he grinned and lit another cigarette. "You are the bearer of glad tidings today! But why me? There's lots of guys in here don't ever get chances like that!"
"You earned it, Chip. True, there are lots of guys who don’t get chances like this, but they don’t seem to understand it takes a lot more than a month or two of good behavior to develop a trust. It takes time, but once you manage to convince the powers that be that you're truly anxious to please and get along, they play ball with you. But there's more."
"More? Like what?"

"Central prison, Chip. You've got permission to go down just about any time you want, long as you can get a ride down and back. Inside the prison you're free to come and go as one of the inmates, with the proviso that you keep yourself out of situations that could lead to trouble for yourself. If something happens, everything will be cancelled. Of course the reason for your going there is to practice your music, and maybe do the odd show for the prison system."

"Why? I mean, why suddenly am I allowed down whenever I want? Is that where I'm transferring to?"
"You're not transferring, Chip. You're getting out."
"Really? When?"
"Next year. Probably sooner if you wanted it, but you've made it pretty clear that you don't want."
"You're right, I don't."
"You've made a lot of friends here, Chip," Ed explained. "Everyone wants to see you make it, and we're sure you will. Most of us believe you should be out now, but it just hasn't worked out for you. But with all you're doing, all you've accomplished, we believe you deserve a chance to prove yourself. Oh, and there's one more reason, too."

"Uh-oh," Chip said, trying to stifle his very wide grin. "Here's the catch.”

"You have also been accepted as a provisionary student at NC State. But there are some classes you have to take in person."
"But, I was gonna do correspondence. I thought it was all set up."
"I know. But there are classes like Philosophy and Psychology that you have to do in person. You simply cannot pass courses like that via the Internet because they require personal interaction and conversation. Well, if all that we've just discussed goes well, you're gonna be able to take the courses in person, starting in the fall. Actually some of the faculty are very anxious to have you because of some of your unique experiences. You'll be wearing an electronic monitoring device on your ankle, if we can get it set up, but aside from that you'll be on your own on campus."

"But what about..."
"Forget the 'whatabouts' for now. There are a lot of details to be worked out, but you're committed, long as you keep your nose clean for the summer. Now get outta here so I can deal with someone who needs my help. I’m incredibly proud of you, Chip!"

The next month was a tough one for Chip. He started his Karate lessons immediately, going two nights a week. On his first night he was presented with a new Karate gi, a gift paid for by some of his friends at Central Prison. As soon as he had it on, proudly presenting himself at the front gate, his own peculiar form of steel jewelry was added. Chip had a lot of difficulty, in spite of the front he'd tried to present, being unshackled in front of about twenty other kids ranging in age from ten to twenty. But his embarrassment was easily overcome when the class started. This was something he’d always wanted to do, but never dreamed he’d be able to.

When he went to pose for his graduation pictures, Chip was in chains. It was at a photographic studio, and his cop escort refused to take them off. "No problem," the kindly photographer offered, "I can arrange your sleeves and angle the camera so that they won't show."
"Won't show?" Chip protested. "Why in the world would you do that? I'm proud to be the first inmate to graduate like this! And we don't get a lot to be proud of in there. I want those chains to show in the picture, loud and clear!"

It seemed to Chip that he was chained hand and foot more than he was free; but he was starting to do the things that mattered in his life, beginning to venture into the world that had been denied him for almost four years, so what were a few chains? He was picked up faithfully by a handful of deputies who took turns donating their time to see that Chip got to his Karate lessons; he spent an hour or two every day at Central Prison, where he was soon recognized and accepted as one of the population, in spite of his youthful looks.

Chip was also nominated and accepted for a new experimental program. "Your good behavior and popularity certainly had a hand in it," Ed lectured. "But it was a practical thing too. In the first place, you have no desire to leave right now, and we wanted the subject to succeed. Secondly, your skills with a computer have not gone unnoticed. Starting tomorrow, if you're interested, you'll be starting training with one other inmate in the maintenance and support of the computer network in three state buildings. The pay is lousy because the state is trying to save money, which is frankly the only reason we’ve got this project in the first place."

"You mean," Chip asked excitedly, "I get to wander around on my own? And get paid for it?"
"Not exactly. We're gonna put a transmitter on your ankle. Wherever you're supposed to be, there'll be a monitor. If you aren't there, the alarm goes off. I guess I don't have to tell you what happens next."
"I know," Chip grinned, "I get my ass shot off."
"I dunno about your ass, but I don't advise screwing around."

"Sounds exciting, like 007 or something," Chip commented.
"It is exciting! You and Gary White will be the first kids in this place ever to be on your own in an office building. You're not gonna let me down, are you?"

The idea of trying to escape had never occurred to Chip. For one thing, he considered the Youth Prison his home now - the only one he had. Furthermore, there was no other location he wanted to call home or no group of people he wanted to be with; and besides, he would never do anything to embarrass Ed Barker, because Ed was his friend. Ed was the only person or thing, in Chip’s mind, that even remotely represented stability. Others came and went in the young teen’s life, but Ed had always been there, always would be.

Starting about two months after his castration, Chip had begun to change. The changes were so dramatic, so pronounced and unexpected, that he found himself being examined by several doctors, who of course found the reason for the changes. But even then everyone, including Chip himself, was very surprised.

Chip's remaining sex equipment, his penis, shrank considerably. His pubic hair became more of a soft fuzz, totally invisible from any distance at all. He hadn't had much hair on his legs and arms anyway, but what had been there disappeared completely. His already small stature appeared to shrink somewhat; the beard, or rather upper lip fuzz, that had just begun to grow disappeared, and his skin became as smooth as it had been when he was twelve. Chip could easily pass for twelve to fourteen years old. Any doubts Chip might have had about the wisdom of doing what he'd done were dispelled; he was absolutely delighted with the results.

To be continued...