Inspector Chalmers had settled in for the trip.  Two standard days for the SuperShip to reach the wormhole, ten standard days inside the wormhole, and then three standard days to the destination planet.  The major difference was that the ten standard days in the wormhole would appear, to someone outside, as a little less then two standard days.

The Inspector spent the two days in transit with his group determining which of the frigates had filed false manifests.  It was easy; only one skipper and quartermaster had falsified records, and then he had falsified only a small portion of his cargo.  There was, indeed, some smuggling going on.  Chalmers filed his report with the navigators, who would review it and forward it on to TransStar.  The inspector waited until the ship passed into the wormhole and then settled in to read another of Maria's journal entries.  He ate dinner, poured himself some water, logged into his computer, opened the file, and began to read.

Rejection

"I will now pick up with the immediate affairs after the sexual encounter with the three cyborgs.  I was taken, as soon as possible, to the closest hospital, where I was examined and treated for my bruises.  The security forces spoke with me, and I assume they filed a report.  I was kept overnight.  Needless to say, my parents were quite upset.  My mother, in particular, had to be sedated.

"The next day, a group of psychologists and psychiatrists came to examine me.  I was asked a great deal of questions, mostly about how I felt, my state of mind during, immediately after, and currently.  I answered all sincerely and honestly.  I was also asked if I enjoyed it, and at what point I began to enjoy it.  Once again, I answered the doctors as honestly and as accurately as I could.

"After another night in the hospital, I was sent home.  My mother and father acted coolly to me.  My brother did not know how to react.  I didn't realize it, but it was the beginning of my being rejected by proper society.  When I returned to school the next week, everyone was quite cool to me, including my teachers.  I was completely unaware that I was now a `beast fucker,' `alien lover,' or any other of the various tags and labels assigned to a breeder.  The fact that I was forced into the act was of no matter.  I had sex with not one, but three cyborgs.  I was tainted.

"A little clarification on my part is necessary here.  I was not aware of the statistics, and did not become aware, until several years later concerning my circumstance.  Roughly seventy percent of the women taken this way die.  Twenty-nine percent go, in a few years, hopelessly insane and need to be institutionalized.  One percent enjoys it.  I was in the one percent.  I was aware of none of these facts."


Inspector Chalmers pushed back from his display and sipped some water.  He began to realize that Maria was going to enter into hell and not know why.  No one was there to explain the circumstance to her.  No one would offer her the least bit of support.  His facial expression indicated a suppressed rage.  This girl suffered an emotional abuse far worse and longer lasting than what the three cyborgs had done to her.  Society was going to do its best to destroy her.  Chalmers sipped some more water and continued to read.


Rejection continued

"I continued with my schooling.  Teachers kept me distant.  Fellow students avoided me altogether.  And, to make matters worse, my parents and brother became cooler and cooler towards me.  And the professional counseling, which was supposed to help, only made matters worse.  The only thing, which had changed for the positive, was I was allowed unlimited practice time in the music rooms.  I practiced more and more, taking comfort in my music.

"The professional counseling was sad.  As soon as the medical community discovered that I was not pregnant, a battery of gynecologists, psychologists, and psychiatrists descended on me like flies to honey.  I was examined, talked to, listened to, and, in short, almost driven mad for two nights every week, and one day every weekend.  The only thing that was helpful about the counseling was the gynecological examinations.

"Twice a week, I would strip, and, naked, get on the table, where I would be felt, examined, touched, prodded, poked, fingered, pinched, and explored with various instruments.  Very early in my counseling, it was discovered that I enjoyed this, and became quite aroused by the exams.  I was a bit amazed that, firstly, I enjoyed it, and secondly, the doctors and counselors did not seemed shocked at all by my reactions.  It appears that I was in the one percent, and therefore a bit of a freak.

"I also began to enjoy being naked.  When no one was home, I would often walk about the house nude.  In my music practice rooms, I would lock the door and practice naked.  I enjoyed it.  I would not have cared, really, if someone would have walked in, but I felt if they reported me I would have lost this privilege.  So I kept the door locked.  But no one ever knocked; it was if they knew that I was in there.

"The third week of counseling, a gynecologist was examining me.  A psychiatrist, female, was watching the exam.  I had become quite aroused, and it was very visible to anyone watching.  The psychiatrist said to the gynecologist, "Don't tease her anymore, and finish it!"  Well, the examining doctor simply looked at the psych doctor, teased me a bit more, and then proceeded to bring me to climax.  It was intense and pleasurable.  At that point I knew that I was quite different, at least sexually, from a normal run-of-the-mill woman.  After he finished with me, I sat up on the table and blushed.  I think I asked for some water.

"The psychiatrist made a phone call, and then she and the gynecologist left the room.  I could hear her and two other voices talking softly in the adjoining office.  I stood up, still quite naked, picked up a magazine, and began to read.  
"After about a half an hour, three doctors re-entered the exam room.  I was naked, and had no intention of getting dressed.  I also had become thoroughly engrossed in the magazine article.  It was the newcomer, a woman psychologist, who spoke to me.

`Maria,' she said, `you will have a rough time.  Your life will not be easy.  The state will do as much as it can to protect you, but you must be very careful.  It is too late to change your school now, but, when you graduate, we will find a place for you.  Research is being done on why this happens to some women, but no results have, as of yet, emerged.  You must take care of yourself.'

"Then I was told to dress and go home.  I would have two more weeks of counseling, and then I would be finished.  The government would be in contact with me.

"At the time, I had no clue, really, what she was talking about.  The simple fact was that no one knew why one percent enjoyed it.  I did not know it at the time, but I would never seek normal, genital intercourse.  I would only ever enjoy it with an alien, cyborg, or mutant.  As I said, I had no clue.

"The alienation from society slowly grew worse.  Friends and teachers ignored me, and my parents could not wait to get me out of the house.  I received a rejection notice from the conservatory.  Although I had excellent grades, I was not even granted an audition.  Since the conservatory rejected me, my practice room privileges were revoked.  I was becoming quite alone.

"About two weeks after the counseling ended, I noticed my sex drive began to accelerate.  I would find myself thoroughly lubricated, for no reason at all, in the middle of the day.  I emailed the psychologist who had seemed sympathetic, and she responded.  She told me no one knew why this happened, but that I should try masturbation with sex toys.  When I showed the email to my parents, their response was to have me check the web for sex toys.  They would pay for them.
"I now was beginning to understand what the psychologist meant.  I was to be shunned, an outcast.  I was perverse and dirty.  After a week of crying, I stiffened.  If this was to be my life, so be it.  I would leave immediately after my graduation.  In the interim, I ordered some sex toys.  The variety of vibrators and dildos was interesting, but not as good as that metal penis.  However, it helped keep me under control.

"The final insult was a letter to my parents informing me that I would not be allowed to attend graduation.  Instead, I would have my diploma mailed to me.  I got very, very angry.  I began to dress in a very sexy way. Since I was a `beast fucker,' why not act like one?  Very short skirts combined with sheer, tight blouses became the norm.  I began to wear very sexy lingerie.  My parents obliged by paying for it.

"My after-school routine had changed, and for the worse.  I would go to the library after class, since their computer resources were far better than most people's home computers, and search for towns where I might be accepted if no one knew my background.  Whenever anyone would look over my shoulder, I would switch to a site for sex toys.  I had a smoldering rage inside of me, and I did not know how to tame it.

"Finally, two weeks before graduation, some relief appeared.  The lady psychologist came to visit, and brought a letter.  I would be able to attend a small college in the middle of the continent.  They had a music program.  It was not as good as the conservatory, but it was a music program.  I would be allowed to study after all!  I could see the sigh of relief from my mother; I would be getting out of the house, and would be leaving very soon.  She actually grinned when the psychologist informed me I could report to the school one week after graduation.

"I finally lost control, but my rage was subtle and calculated.  The weeks of slow rejection and abuse finally caused me to snap, and I turned on my parents, who had shown no support at all.  I informed them that I would do well at the college, I would excel, and the only thing I would miss were the gyno exams, which I thoroughly enjoyed.  I said good night to the psychologist, went to my room, and masturbated, quite loudly, I might add.

"At that point, I ceased communicating with anyone unless it was absolutely necessary.  My father made my travel arrangement to the college.  When the day of departure arrived, no one said good-bye.  I simply packed my few possessions and left.  I did not know what awaited me at the college.  Had I paid better attention to the psychologist, and read the fine print, I would not have been so impulsive.  However, what is done is done.  I left without a look behind me."


Inspector Chalmers closed the file and pushed back from his computer.  He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.  The Transstar briefing told him what would come next.  Maria's one-year tenure at the college, which would probably be detailed, would be followed by the events which led her to become a breeder.  Her story, so far, did not shock him.  The one percent was treated like pariahs wherever they went, whether they were forced or not.  Chalmers decided to walk the gangplank for a bit, and then get some sleep.  Tomorrow he would read more of Maria's journal.
