The Patronizer

John awoke with a start the next day. He’d become used to the nighties, but he immediately wanted out of his cell that day. There was no way he was going to be presented to the patrons.

And he suddenly realized that it was futile to resist. That he was going to become a straight woman. That he was learning to like being penetrated by the mannequins. And that swallowing their semen wasn’t all that bad.

He blinked. Were those his thoughts? Or were those thoughts implanted by the computer? He wasn’t sure, but he also knew that whatever was in store for him today was going to happen unless he got out of his cell and away from... away from what? Unless he got out of the prison, he was going to have a patronizer placed on his neck. It was going to happen.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t want a patron,” he sighed, resigned to his fate.

“I know, honey,” Holly said softly, from the bunk above. “None of us wants to want men. But...” She sighed. “We’re going to be hetero women soon. And is that so bad? To have a strong man desire you? To want to take you and make you his?”

John wasn’t sure how to answer that question when the lights clicked on in the cell.

“Prisoners will stand in the indicated positions with their arms out to their sides.” The computer’s voice said.

Holly jumped down from her bunk and took her position. John remained on his bunk, unmoving. Holly was immediately scanned by the computer.

“Prisoner 1LEZ453 will assume her proper position.” The computer said.

Sighing, John slid out of his bunk and stood as indicated. The computer scanned him, sampled his blood, and administered the hormone shot.

No clothing was presented this morning, and John resignedly took his medications and birth control pills.

Instead of being released to their daily conversion activities, the computer said, “Inmates will stand in the indicated area.”

Holly hugged John, and John did not receive a shock for it. They smiled weakly at each other and assumed their positions in their cell.

Patronizers were immediately dropped upon their necks, immobilizing them. John tried to move, to call out, to say something, anything. He was firmly locked in place, unable to take any voluntary action. He wanted to look at Holly, but couldn’t move his head or his eyes to see her. He could only stand there, looking straight ahead, blinking and breathing.

“Prisoners will now be prepared for inspection by patrons,” the computer said flatly. John’s stomach dropped.