Immigration Assistance
Copyright© 2025 by rlfj
Chapter 3: Research
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3: Research - The Sawbuck family lives on Lupina, the famous ‘Nude Planet’. It’s too warm to wear much in the way of clothing, and Lupina has a very liberal social and sexual lifestyle. Learn more about Mom, Dad, and their three teenaged children. This is part of the Nude Planet universe.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Romantic Fiction Science Fiction Space Incest Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Swinging Anal Sex Double Penetration Exhibitionism Oral Sex Voyeurism Public Sex Nudism
“Hey, boss, how was the weekend?”
Jonathan smiled at his assistant. Janine Heartwell was wearing a very short wrap in a bright yellow print that highlighted her long legs. Her substantial breasts didn’t need highlighting, since they were always on display.
“Good. Korona decided that she needed to use my body over and over to satisfy her... needs. She turned out to be very needy.”
Janine had met Mrs. Sawbuck at a Friday mixer once; those needs could be delicious! “Sounds awful! It’s so terrible when one person’s needs overwhelm everybody else’s. I hope you were able to help her out.” She struggled to keep her laughter under control.
“It’s a burden but it’s what a loving husband does.”
Janine didn’t even try to bury the snicker. Instead she switched topics. “So, what happened Friday night? What was that about? What did the CMP want with IA?”
Jonathan sighed. There went his good mood. He took fifteen minutes to explain what had happened after he went up to the roof Friday afternoon instead of enjoying the after-work mixer.
“Oh, shit!” said Janine. “Now what?”
The response was a shrug. “My understanding is that this week there is going to be a review of everything and everybody involved. Immigration Assistance will need to go over everything we knew about this family. Was there something we missed or failed to do? Is there something we need to do now and in the future?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me check my email. Set up a meeting, real or virtual, for all the department heads in Caradoc.” Janine nodded and Jonathan went into his office.
As expected, there were several emails queued up relating to the Bossaman incident. In addition to being copied on both the CMP reports and the prosecutor’s summary, there were several requests for assistance. There was also an order from Lupina Planetary Immigration Assistance to assist in determining future policies and procedures. Meanwhile a message popped on his macrolink that a department head meeting would take place mid-morning; attendance could be in-person or virtual, if necessary. He forwarded the CMP and prosecutor reports to Janine for distribution and added that he wanted the original immigration officer to attend the meeting.
The meeting proved both interesting and predictable. Jonathan started by giving a review of all that had happened with the Bossaman family along with the latest information. The mother and two youngest children were in seclusion at a CMP ‘safe house’, a secure residence with access to medical and psychiatric care. “Why do they need a safe house?” asked one of the men in the room. “From the reports, the father and oldest son are in jail.”
Jonathan nodded. “And likely to stay there forever. No, I think the worry is that the family needs some peace and quiet. I listened to the initial interrogations of the family. The father and oldest son are monsters. The mother and the daughter, who is only six, were repeatedly beaten. The mother was forced into sex by both the husband and oldest son, and they openly told the nine-year-old boy that he would be allowed to have sex with the little girl when he was old enough to get an erection. If nothing else, the three of them need some intensive psychiatric care.” He turned to a man who had logged into the meeting from a different city. “Jackson, do you remember this family? You’re listed as the interviewing officer.”
The image shook his head. “Not really. I had to review the file. There just wasn’t anything unusual about them. They filled out the forms and answered the questions, just like everybody else, and then I did the interview. The only things that seemed at all out of the ordinary was that dad did all the talking, that and everybody was all bundled up.”
“I noticed that during the interviews, and the patrol officer said that was how they were dressed out in public,” commented Jonathan.
Jackson nodded. “It’s actually quite common, at least during the initial interview. People are moving here from another culture, and they are wearing the clothes from that culture.” Several people around the table or online agreed with that. “The strange part is that they never acclimated to Lupinan culture and norms. They must have been very uncomfortable wearing the clothes in those pictures.”
Jonathan said, “Agreed! Anybody know anything about Vandevar 3? When the CMP asked me, I had to admit I’d never even heard of it.”
Nobody else seemed to know about it, but with thousands of colonized planets in the galaxy, nobody could know them all. Janine put out a planetwide notice to all IA personnel asking if anybody knew anything about Vandevar 3 beyond what was in the standard databases or knew anybody from Vandevar 3. Immigration Assistance didn’t keep track of immigrants beyond admission to the planet.
“Okay. Thank you, everybody. Nothing I am seeing here says we failed the initial investigation. What about our procedures? Do we need to do a better job during the initial investigation? Do we need to do more research on the planets people come from?” Jonathan asked. Just then a message popped up on his macrolink. “Well, I’m not expecting answers today. I’ve been called down to City Hall this afternoon, and not online, either. I’m simply going to let everybody know we are all working diligently on the problem.”
The others all nodded and agreed, promising to work on the issues they were responsible for. Afterwards, Jonathan met with Janine and then went out to lunch. By 1330 he was meeting with Josephus Holliwell, the Deputy Mayor, Carianne Smith, the Municipal Prosecutor, Talia Jones, the Assistant Prosecutor who had been at the police station, and Sergeant Hooper and his boss, Captain Joe Harkness, of the CMP.
“So, what’s the latest on this mess?” asked Holliwell. “I need to tell the mayor, and the press is asking.” Crime was unusual on Lupina, but not unknown, and since time immemorial the ‘police blotter’ was always newsworthy. He pointed at Smith.
The prosecutor nodded towards the assistant and said, “I signed off on Talia’s proposed solution. She arranged for a public defender Friday night and then met with him on Saturday. Talia?”
The assistant prosecutor said, “We have the father on multiple counts of assault on the mother and little girl, and assault on a police officer, both confessions and vids. We have the oldest on sexual assault charges against the mother. Again, confessions.” She shook her head and added, “I’ve never been to Vandevar 3 but if these two are examples of the men there, I don’t want to go. They wouldn’t shut up! Even when their lawyer told them to shut up, they just plowed on! Hugo Bossaman, the father, says it’s his legal right to beat his wife.”
“Shit!”
She continued, “Then he started demanding his family be returned to him so he could take them home, where he could give them a proper beating.”
“You aren’t seriously expecting the mayor to approve of any of this, are you?” asked Holliwell.
“Hardly,” said the municipal prosecutor. “Talia gave the two men a choice. Thirty years each on North Island followed by deportation back to Vandevar 3. Mandatory divorce from the wife and loss of all parental rights. The alternative was forty years on North Island followed by deportation.”
Talia added, “Every time the lawyer protested I added ten years. He finally shut up and took the thirty years. I think the most disturbing thing was that Bossaman thinks it is perfectly acceptable to beat his wife and daughter. He couldn’t understand what the problem was.” She shrugged in exasperation at that.
The deputy mayor looked at the police officers. “Is this acceptable to the CMP?” The Caradoc Municipal Police was highly respected by the citizenry.
Harkness nodded and said, “We can live with that. They aren’t getting turned loose, that’s for sure. As soon as a magistrate signs the paperwork, they are on the next flight to North Island, probably in a day or two. If they manage to die up there, nobody is going to cry.” There was a very real possibility they would never survive to the end of their thirty-year sentence. Prisons, even open-air prisons, were very bad places to live.
Sergeant Hooper said, “It’s good. Like Mister Sawbuck said the other day, we can’t send them to Hell, just to jail and then back to where they came from. We’re also going to boost some training to make sure our guys don’t get blindsided. My patrol officer is more pissed about being coldcocked than anything else.”
Holliwell turned to Jonathan. “Speaking of Mister Sawbuck ... I understand you were very helpful the other day. What does Immigration Assistance have to say about all this?”
“I called a meeting this morning of all our department heads and spoke to the original immigration investigator. The fact of the matter is that IA processed this family using normal procedures. I’ve ordered an investigation of those procedures, but every year, planetwide, we have thousands of people emigrating to Lupina. Some come on a temporary basis, some on a permanent basis, and some both. My own wife came here from Goldheart to go to college and then stayed. The overwhelming number of immigrants live here without any problems.”
The deputy mayor nodded in understanding. “What about this place they came from? What’s it called?”
“Vandevar 3. I’ve also ordered a review of anything we can find on the place. None of us had ever heard of it before, but there are thousands of planets out there, and it only takes a ticket to get here.”
“Can we ban anybody else from there? We don’t need any more of this crap.”
Jonathan shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know. I ordered some research, but banning? That one you need to take up with the lawyers. Somebody is going to disagree; of that I am sure.”
The deputy mayor shrugged. “You’re probably right, but I don’t think I’m going to say that on vid. I’ll write something up for the mayor to say that basically expresses outrage but nothing definite.” Then he looked at the cops. “Make sure you let us know when you are shipping these assholes to North Island! We are going to want to broadcast that so that people know we are doing something.”
He stood to leave and everybody mumbled something agreeable. After he left, the remaining people rolled their eyes and shrugged. Jonathan said, “If anything comes up on Vandevar 3, I will pass it along. You guys can let the politicians know.”
By Tuesday evening, Jonathan’s report on Vandevar 3 was basically finished. Immigration Assistance had managed to turn up a married couple who were from the planet, the parents of an IA officer in Colonic Province. He spoke to them briefly and was dumbfounded by what he learned. The planet was under the control of a religious cult led by a figure called The Apostle. Over the years Apostles had changed, some for the better and some for the worse. When the Apostle died, whether from natural or unnatural causes, the Council of Elders elected a new Apostle. The current Apostle was more of an asshole than most.
Religion generally wasn’t an issue in the modern galaxy. While Old Earth had been awash in different religions, almost all of which had been at war with each other, the discovery of extraterrestrial planets which could support life had been a blow that most religions never survived. How could a religion claim that their particular Messiah or Prophet or Whoever ran the entire universe when there were planets far, far away that supported life that the local holy book didn’t describe? Even worse was when the existence of long-lost intelligent life was discovered, intelligent life from before human life even began. Religion had died out within a few centuries of the Diaspora.
That wasn’t to say that religious expressions weren’t still in use. Telling somebody to ‘Go to Hell’ was the equivalent of telling them to fuck off and saying that a long-legged beauty’s legs ‘Go all the way to Heaven’ was a fine compliment. Likewise, God was still used in various curses and compliments - “Goddamn asshole’ was used in anger; ‘Oh my God’ was an excellent praise during sex.
Now, the residents of Vandevar 3 had managed to come up with their own cockamamie religion, where men ran things and women put up with it. The mother of the IA officer had managed to escape by marrying a smarter-than-average citizen of Vandevar 3; only men were citizens. They had emigrated for educational reasons and then promptly decided never to go back; they were still married and happily non-monogamous. Jonathan reported this to his superiors and the others in the Monday meeting without making any recommendations involving foreign affairs.
On Wednesday afternoon Jonathan began to wonder whether his report was premature. Janine informed him that the Lupina Planetary Foreign Office had found a researcher who knew something about the place and had sent her name to the IA Planetary Office. Natasha Karnovska was an anthropologist who specialized in cultural differences and was currently in the planetary capital of Lupina City; she would arrive mid-afternoon. Then Janine invited him to the break room for the midweek fuck party. Jonathan had smiled and agreed and spent a very pleasant hour doing Janine and two other assistants doggy-style, something laughingly known as ‘Viewing the Moons of Lupina’.
At 1300 there was a knock on Jonathan’s doorframe and he looked up to see Janine with an attractive brunette. Surprisingly, she was in a full-length wrap, one that went above her breasts rather than the standard Caradoc style around the waist. “Mister Sawbuck, Doctor Natasha Karnovska.”
Jonathan stood and held out his hand. “Doctor Karnovska, welcome.”
The IA manager was surprised a second time when the anthropologist came around his desk and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. Call me Natasha.”
“Natasha. Call me Jon.”
“Jon.” She moved back to the front of his desk and waited for her host to motion towards one of the armchairs. She sat down gracefully and crossed her legs. “Thank you for meeting me.”
“I think it’s more that I should be thanking you. You have experience with Vandevar 3?”
She smiled and gave him a wry shrug. “Not precisely, but I hope to help.” When Jonathan gave her a curious glance, she explained, “It’s a difficult culture for a woman to research. We are definitely a second-class demographic. I have supervised male researchers, but under the current environment it would be ... counterproductive.”
“Have you heard about the situation we had last Friday?” he asked.
Natasha nodded. “Yes. After your Foreign Office reached out to me, they forwarded me the entire file. I can’t say as anything in it surprised me.”
“What is it with these assholes?” Jonathan asked.
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