The guard unlocked the door to our cell. He didn't say anything; he just stood there. But I knew what he had come for. The court had reached a verdict yesterday and now I was to be led there for the official sentencing.
I stood up and slowly walked toward him. When I came abreast of him I held my head up and waited while he attached two chains to the iron ring around our body's neck, one chain in front and another in the back. Then he and the guard with him -- each holding a chain -- led me to the courtroom.
The courtroom was packed with spectators. No Trimorph had been charged as such in more than a decade -- I was also found guilty of a sex crime. They had all come to see who could commit such a foul, despicable crime. They were here to see the perverted criminal get punished.
Our crime was so evil that a special prosecutor was chosen to try the case, Count Strydamu the Presiding Officer of the royal council.
John had originally been charged only with violating Tri-etherealian decency codes by propagating and participating in bondage and discipline sex. The evidence against him was some poems he wrote to his "lover," telling her of his love and what he feels when we go through what we Trimorphs call union. Both Unamorph and commoner Tri-etherealians call it sex.
Let me point out that we Trimorphs don't have sex, not normal sex, not perverted sex, not bondage and discipline sex, not any kind of sex. We are too much into union with our counterpart to indulge into something like sex.
Besides all Tri-etherealians practice bondage and discipline sex. Well not all of them, but there are a lot of Tri-etherealians who practice it. They just don't broadcast it. They are discreet. John and I were discreet in what we did too. But our poems fell into the wrong hands.
Count Strydamu cleared his throat. Then, "Johanna, you have been formerly charged as a Trimorph and for participating in bondage and discipline sex. Your original plea was not guilty on both counts. Is that correct?"
"Yes Count Strydamu," I answered. There was no emotion in my voice.
"Do you wish to change your original plea?"
"No Count Strydamu," I again answered him. I have no idea why he asked me if I wanted to change my plea, especially seeing that I have already been found guilty -- on both counts.
He turned to confer privately with the seven Lords who were seated at the bench in front of me. He held my and John's poems in his hand.
I stood naked in the courtroom, manacles on our body's ankles and wrists and another chain around our body's waist that was attached to the one binding our feet.
The body that John and I share has been chained up and naked for five months now. When we were charged as a Trimorph sex violator the clothes were torn from our body -- as a Trimorph sex violator we were not allowed to wear clothes. The voyeuristic among the Tri-etherealians like to see Trimorphs naked; they like to watch us go through union.
Next the manacles and chains were put on our body.
Then our body was thrown into a cell, the only light coming from a barred window high in the stone wall. Our bed was a cot with a mattress stuffed with straw, but we didn't have a blanket. We were lucky. We had a chamber pot in the far corner for a toilet. The other prisoners weren't so lucky. I guess that's because we hadn't been found guilty . . . until now.
Each morning Melissa, a Trimorph slave girl, would be let in to clean out the pot. She too was naked with chains on her body's wrists, ankles and waist.
Melissa had been sentenced to ten years of slavery for refusing the advances of Lord Clyton, Keeper of the Prison of Norlen. Three years ago he discovered that she is a Trimorph and wanted sex with her -- sex with a Trimorph is supposed to be exceptionally ecstatic for non-Trimorphs. That's because, unlike other Tri-etherealians, we retain our youth. Melissa is over 730 years old yet she doesn't look a day over 20.
But Trimorphs are no different than any other Tri-etherealian. We are normal in all our features except that we change sexes. At any one time our body is either male or female. We change sexes during what we call union.
In the case of me and John, he's the male and I'm the female. At any one time one of us possesses our body while one of us goes into transition -- outside our body and inside our mind.
That is, the Trimorph going into transition . . . well their essence -- the who they are -- leaves the body but their thoughts and beliefs stay inside the body's mind. It's kind of like having someone else -- a spirit -- living inside your mind who is watching over you from outside your body. This friend and lover can communicate with you and help you out in numerous ways.
Meanwhile their counterpart -- who assumes possession and control of their body -- comes back into the body from transition. That is, their counterpart's essence comes back into the body they share. It's kind of like waking up from a very realistic dream.
As for our body . . . well I guess you could say that it's both sexes. But only one sex is evident at a time -- the sex of the one in possession of the body, the male or the female.
Let me point out that Trimorphs are not transsexuals. A transsexual desires to be a member of the opposite sex. Trimorphs have no such desires. Our body changes sexes from male to female and back again and again, all depending upon who has possession of it.
John and I are two completely different individuals, who share one body -- which is actually the third individual of our tri-existence. John is all male with his own personality, and I am all female with my own, different personality.
I think that he is sometimes far too liberal. Of course, he thinks I'm too conservative. I tell him that I'm only being cautious for safety. But we love each other; we look out for each other.
Nor are we narcissistic; I don't love myself. I love John and he loves me. He's a totally different Tri-etherealian than I am with his own likes and dislikes. He likes adventure and mystery; I like romance and comedy.
Anyway, once Melissa refused the advances of Lord Clyton he had her arrested. It is against the law for a commoner to refuse to obey a Unamorph. She was found guilty. Now he has her whenever he wants her . . . day and night.
As his personal slave, she has to sleep on the floor near his bed, ready at all times for his use -- or abuse -- whichever he desires at any given moment. I frequently see the marks on her body from the lashings he gives her. Luckily the scars disappear when she goes into transition.