Reeducation

Reeducation

«1»

Kiara set her bags down inside the door and reached for the light switch. She flipped it and swore, the apartment was still dark and she was going to have to fumble her way back to the laundry room to flip the breakers again. She grumbled as she dug out her cell phone and turned on the flashlight. She was going to have to talk to the condo manager again, there was no excuse for the recent power bumps that had been happening to various units in the building for the last several months. She had filed numerous complaints and still nothing had been done and now the breakers were tripping when she wasn't even home! It was inexcusable, for what she had paid for this unit and the amount she shelled out in fees every month she expected any issues to be dealt with promptly.

She left the door open to provide some extra light as she worked her way through the confines of her tidy living space. She was already angry and when she barked her shin on the coffee table that didn't help matters any. She had been living in this condo for seven years and somehow she still hadn't memorized it enough to navigate it in the dark without injuring herself. She found the entrance to her hallway and started working her way down, confident that the way was clear. Her left hand trailed on the wall as her right reached out for the door that led to her little laundry room. She felt the door frame of her bedroom door under her fingers, then the open gap where she had left the door itself open this morning. She was in mid stride when something grabbed her wrist and she barely had time to gasp before she was yanked into her bedroom and something cold and hard pressed against her side. Pain exploded through her body, making her drop her phone and in the flashing spiral of light she saw two figures dressed in dark clothing with some sort of strange device strapped to their heads.

Then she fell down into dreamless darkness and silence.

«2»

She woke up to a throbbing head and a sore body. She was freezing cold and dizzy, nauseous and hurting. When she tried to rub her face, she found she couldn't move, and she couldn't see... it was so dark she couldn't tell if her eyes were open or closed, if she was blindfolded or it was just dark and panic settled in as she tested the limits of her entire world. Her arms were bound straight out to each side and her ankles were bound tightly. She worked out that she was flat on her back from the cold of whatever she was laying on and there was something in her mouth, something that held her jaw open wide and still let her breathe and move her tongue. As she worked it all out she realized that she was completely nude; restrained and helpless. A sob welled up within her as she fruitlessly fought against the restraints, they were metal and affixed to the table she was laying on and they had no give whatsoever. Rape was one fear that was immediate, she knew enough about human trafficking and abductions to know that she was in that target group but she also knew that there were other reasons for her to be treated this way.

She struggled as much as she could, refusing to simply surrender, knowing that as long as she could still think she could resist and fight whoever it was that had done this to her. But panic was threatening, clawing at her, making her heart race and her breath come faster and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The helplessness of her situation, her nudity and enforced silence, and worst of all the darkness that she couldn't even begin to penetrate all compiled to drive her anxiety higher and higher with every passing moment until she was almost lost to it, wordless sounds escaping her throat as she turned, struggling and fighting to get free, her thoughts beginning to scatter and her heart going so fast that it hurt. She was at the cusp of panic and she knew that if she gave in to it that she would be lost; she would beg and plead and break when confronted by her captors and above all she did not want that.

A moment before she broke, the lights came on and blinded her. They were painfully bright and she recoiled, her head banging off of the metal table, her eyes closing and she tried to turn her head, but it didn't help. She whimpered and blinked, trying to make her eyes adjust to the light and when she was able to see, she looked up at herself, reflected back in a huge mirrored ceiling. The reality of her predicament was even worse than she could imagine; she was restrained on a medical examination table, the room was stark and bare, with stainless steel walls and all manner of surgical instruments all around her and standing by her feet were two people in medical scrubs. Unable to speak, she made wordless sounds of protest, demanding to be released with her tone and the posture of her body, letting them know what she wanted, attempting to communicate. But the pair didn't pay her any attention, they just moved to either side of the table and adjusted some clamps and swung the stirrups her legs were bound in far out to each side, exposing her defenseless vagina.

'This is where it starts...' she thought to herself, her panic increasing, the ragged edge of control that she still held fraying. 'This is where they rape me...'

She couldn't even pray because she didn't believe in any gods and she knew that even if she did they wouldn't answer. She sobbed and struggled, shifting her hips and pulling at her restraints, determined to fight rather than just surrender to what was coming. She had been dreading rape most of her life, ever since she had gone to university and seen the way women had been treated in the past. She had held some ideal that it was a different world now, that such things did not happen anymore. But then her eyes had been opened and she had seen the truth; it was still there, all of the rapes and deaths, all of the misogyny and sexism was just as strong as it had been decades before in her grandparent's time, it was just hidden better now.

She had been a part of political activism and peaceful demonstrations ever since, trying to break the back of the patriarchy and gain true equality for women. She was a regular at every cause that she could find and she had made her share of enemies. And she knew that what was happening to her was likely tied to that, this was their way of silencing her. But the pair didn't immediately start ravaging her body. Instead they moved up her sides and started washing her all over and something in the water or in the soap made her skin tingle and then burn. They washed across her legs and up to her sex and she watched as the hair on her vagina was rinsed away, leaving smooth skin behind. She pulled at the restraints as she saw it and they ignored her and moved up her body, cleansing her completely, washing away her spray-tan and the hair under her arms and she felt them laving her long, black hair with it and the cold-sensitive feeling as her hair, a point of pride for her, all came loose and washed away.

She was bare and bald and helpless and in a way that was far worse than the rape she had anticipated. The clinical detachment that the pair had as they cleansed her and then dried her with soft cloths was worse than any brutality that they might have shown. They were careful of her face, using sponges to clean her skin and she closed her eyes tightly. She felt raw and cold as they finished and she opened her eyes and looked around. One of the figures grasped the sides of her head and forced her back onto the table while the other slid something into her nostrils. It felt like two pieces of wire and a strap of some sort was against her sensitive scalp, preventing her from moving her head without intense, blinding pain.

She watched in the mirrored ceiling as they moved to her shoulders and placed leather straps around her upper arms and then more straps around the tops of her thighs, restraining her so securely that she could barely move. She sobbed again at the growing feeling of helplessness and humiliation. Rape would have been bad enough, she could have prepared herself for that; this was far worse and she felt tears leaking from her eyes as she tried to see. The table was adjusted again and her legs were spread as wide as they could go. Then she felt the table shift and suddenly she was upright and looking into a bank of lights, watching the two anonymous figures as they retreated. Moments later another figure was silhouetted by the lights and she heard a voice, clinical and unmistakably male.

"This is subject C1-27, formerly Cooper, Kiara. She is a twenty-six year old female in prime health. She is fertile but only minimally sexually active and all blood and tissue screenings have come back with a clean slate.

'Formerly?' She wondered as she tried to focus on the back-lit figure. 'Why formerly? And how does he know so much about me?'

"C1-27 has measurements of 38D-22-32, and an IQ score of 110, several points above the median average. Long-term genome typing has revealed a chance of defects and anomalies in offspring in the twelfth percentile, negligible with careful breeding and pairing." He went on talking about her as if she were livestock and Kiara was growing more and more frightened as he talked about fertility cycles and purified semen, about careful monitoring of menstrual cycles and the average chance of conception during a particular phase of her cycle. It was all so clinical and detached and she started wishing it had just been a rape. She could have accepted rape.

"C1-27 volunteered for the round one trials while she was a second year student at Wellesley College in Massachusetts and she scored in the ninety-fifth percentile. Of the three thousand subjects in round one, she was one of the top ten. She has been in the second round observations for the past five years, with careful monitoring and modification of her diet being the primary task set to the field team. When the third round was begun, she was one of the five subjects that was selected for the first term advancement." He went on as he stepped into the circle of the lights and Kiara thought he looked familiar.

"Why was this particular subject chosen ahead of C-28 or C-29 or C-30?" Came an unmistakably female voice. "Her file shows that she is recalcitrant, that she clashes with authority at every given opportunity, she is headstrong and stubborn as well as a dedicated lesbian and misandrist. All three of the other subjects have a more submissive personality and slightly higher scores."

"C1-27 was selected specifically because of those personality traits. C-28, 29, and 30 are all earmarked for the next round of the project, but C-27 was selected to prove that the severance process would work just as well on a reluctant, openly resistant subject. Her high scores and her body type had already placed her in the realm of consideration, but her attitude and mentality are what earmarked her for this initial stage as well as for this particular demonstration." He said, gesturing to her as he talked but never looking at her, not even once.

"Thank you, doctor." The mystery woman said. "My apologies for interrupting."

"No need, madam secretary." He said with a shrug. "This demonstration was arranged not only to show the inprocessing of a subject, but also to allow you to ask questions and receive answers. Now, where was I?"

"You were about to tell us about this..." A man said, and Kiara heard the rustling of papers. "Severance process."

"Ahh yes, Severance." The doctor said, nodding. "This is the process we have used to separate the subject from their normal lives, severing ties and isolating them so we can remove them to this facility to begin the next phase of the project. For C1-27 the process has taken the last seven months. We have worked to sabotage her career and interpersonal relationships, gain access to her social media and E-mail accounts and make her increasingly uncomfortable in her own home through the use of gang-stalking and white noise devices primarily. When it was determined that she was at the ideal stage, she was extracted by one of our intercession teams. A fire was staged at her condominium, the groundwork for this was set by arranging for damage to the wiring in her unit as well as several others. After she was extracted, a previously prepared cadaver was left in her place. The police medical examiner is one of our employees and the records were sufficiently falsified so that minimal questions would be asked. She has already been officially listed as deceased."

"Interesting." The woman replied. "And how much has all of this cost the taxpayers?"

"The amount is not small, but for these initial stages the higher cost is necessary, I assure you." The doctor said as Kiara felt her fear increasing. Taxpayer dollars? Years of watching and testing her? Ruining her life and faking her death? What had happened to her? Who the hell were these people?

"Now, I will give a practical demonstration of the inprocessing procedure." The man said as he turned to look at Kiara. This close up she recognized him as the medical arts professor from her university. She had volunteered for several different trials and studies when she was in school for the extra money. Now it looked like that was going to come back and bite her in the ass.

"C1-27 has already been subjected to a range of treatments." The doctor said as he looked her over. "Supplements added to her food to regulate her diet and her sleep cycle, minor subliminal conditioning to make her uncomfortable in her home as well as out in the open." He shrugged and reached up to cup her breast, giving it a small squeeze as he felt the heft of it. "Other supplements have been added to stimulate mammary tissue growth and increase sexual sensitivity, though this last may have been wasted on this particular subject." There was a laugh at that from several people that Kiara couldn't see and she felt her humiliation grow as tears coursed down her cheeks.

"But this next range of treatments are considerably more... drastic." As he spoke he pulled on rubber gloves and picked up some piece of medical equipment. He stepped close and she heard the device buzz as he applied it to her skin. She felt a stinging pain roll across her mons and tears leaked from her eyes at the feeling. When he was done he set the thing aside and turned back to the unseen audience.

"C1-27 has been marked with her designation, as you can see here." The tattoo on her mons was large enough to read from a good distance:

G-1 2058 C1-27

CP A/C c1B (B)

"What does all of that mean, though?" Asked another male voice. "I have a vested interest in this project, but the technical jargon escapes me."

"Simple enough, sir." The doctor said with a smile, turning back to Kiara and pointing out each part of the tattoo as he explained it. "The first line is as follows, 'G-1' means she is generation 1, the first selection of subjects in the program. '2058' is the year she was brought to the program and 'C1-27' denotes the lot number and her specific designation. This is the first group of round three and she is specimen number twenty seven." He elaborated.

"The second line is as follows. 'CP' is short for Central Processing, or this facility. 'A' denotes her as a hominid animal; she has lost her fully human status as of being brought into the program. The 'C' denotes her as a cow, meaning she has been selected for her larger breast size and body figure and she will be optimized to produce the maximum amount of milk. This particular subject will be engineered to produce colostrum, which has a much higher market value. And 'c1B' denotes her genome typing; a Clean 1b genome has a less than fifteen percent chance of anomalies or birth defects in offspring. The final '(B)' means she has also been selected for breeding. She will receive an identical marking on her back between her shoulder-blades when she is a bit further along in processing."

"Ahh, I see." The man said. "So it's like a license plate for a car?"

"Well, more like a brand on a cow actually, sir." The doctor said with a shrug and Kiara sobbed and tugged at her bonds once again. She wasn't a person to them, she wasn't even an animal anymore, she was just a thing, and that was worse than rape could ever have been. She saw the doctor pick up a speculum and she made a wordless sound of protest as he turned back to her and slid it into vagina, spreading her open wide. She felt stretched and sore as he explained what he was doing now.

"This is Lysomentin, a fertility drug we have developed specifically for this program." He explained as he picked up a syringe with a long needle, one of the sexless aides bringing a stool for him to sit on as he talked, placing himself on the level of Kiara's vagina.

"Fertility?" Another woman said, sounding shocked. "I thought the basis of this program was to combat the growing rate of overpopulation?"

"It is." The doctor said as he inserted the needle into Kiara's vagina until she could feel it against her cervyx. "But a significant part of our current problem is the steady and marked decline in the average IQ of the current generation. The current median IQ in this country is between 80 and 105, which is a full ten points lower than the median from a generation ago. That number is predicted to decline a further ten to fifteen points in the next generation. Subjects such as C1-27, with a marginally higher IQ have been singled out for breeding in an attempt to foster a generation with a higher IQ. She will be paired with a suitable male, matched through careful genetic selection, and she will be bred for a single offspring. Subjects in later phases of the project will be sorted and those with a lower IQ or a worse genome typing will be sterilized."

There was a pinch within her and she squealed through the device holding her mouth open, pulling at her restraints but unable to move as the needle slid into her womb and he began injecting the contents. "C1-27 however, will be placed with a sterile 'Stud' male to stimulate the production of cervical lubricant and soften the cervical walls but then she will be inseminated with a batch of purified donor semen. Depending on the genome typing and potential IQ of her offspring she will either be bred again, possibly two or even three times, or she will be sterilized."

"Can you explain, doctor, just how this project will result in a lowered birth rate?" A different man asked and the doctor laid aside the syringe and removed the speculum before he took up another syringe.

"Well, the problem with breeding is how easy and pleasurable it is." The doctor said as he began to massage Kiara's labia with two fingers. Her belly ached and she felt nauseous, but that gave way to a feeling of violation as he masturbated her, caressing her clitoris and making her sob again. "The problem can be solved by altering the dynamics of breeding pairs. Isolating males from females is one way; reducing the number of viable breeding females is another."

"Why not alter the population of males?" A woman, perhaps the one he had called 'Madam Secretary' asked.

"Think of lions if you will." The doctor said as he spread Kiara's labia and looked closely, shook his head and returned to rubbing her vagina again. "A single male and anywhere between three and fifteen females. And the single male can inseminate his entire pride within a few days. Humans are no different. Males will always seek viable females for sexual interaction. A single human male can inseminate three to five women in a single day. If you alter the number of males in a control group, the number of pregnancies may actually increase as the remaining males gather groups of females into their 'Pride' as it were. But if you alter the number of females you alter the number of viable wombs that can carry offspring." He looked up at the unseen audience. "We have also proposed several ideas on how to reduce the number of breeding males, such as requiring a licence to breed or eugenics programs, but they have all met with far harsher resistance than this program."