Dr. Hannah Livingstone (or should she say, the former Dr. Hannah Livingstone) was miffed, to put it mildly. A day earlier, she had been a highly respected scientist and one of the most powerful administrators on this colony world, as the director of its largest research institute. She had had no suspicion that the following afternoon, she would find herself dropped naked from a high-altitude cargo drone, hogtied face down, and with the clamps locked onto her brand-new nipple and labia piercings all that secured her to the top of a large metal box hurtling toward the forest floor far below. This was so humiliating! And unfair!
Hannah would have liked to shriek or at least curse as the wind rushed past her and her long curly black hair fluttered behind her, if not for her uncomfortably large ball gag. To add insult to injury, the fresh bar code tattoo on her buttock that falsely identified her as the woman who had been supposed to be here was still hurting as she and the box carrying her fell through the sky. Her aching ass was not her biggest problem at the moment, though.
At least it wasn't raining... but as the wind buffeted the box from side to side, and her fleshy body started to slide off it, it was only her tethered nipples and labia that held her in place, and the constant jerking on them was agonizing. She was in constant fear of sliding off, though she knew in theory that she was well-secured. If only she had been spread-eagled across the box and held down by her wrists and ankles! That would have been a luxurious ride by comparison.
It was no comfort to recall that she was the one who had planned this entire project and overseen the development and programming of all the automated equipment, including the AI that had autonomously selected the optimal site to drop her, based on the parameters she had specified herself. So far everything was working out precisely as she had planned, except for the minor detail that she herself was not supposed to be the experimental animal being used. That irony was not lost on her, not at all.
Perhaps the worst of all was that she knew precisely everything that would be done to her and with her, and when. She had meticulously planned every step, after all. She also knew in her despair that in spite of all her knowledge and expertise, she was utterly helpless to change her fate. She wondered whether she would have preferred to have it all come as a surprise, rather than be able to anticipate every single degrading and humiliating step that was to follow.
She had gone to her lab last night to do one last check in preparation for the project's maiden flight the following day. Her staff had obviously gone through everything over and over again, but Dr. Livingstone had not gotten to her current position by trusting her subordinates to make sure that everything went smoothly. She knew that she would not be able to get to sleep if she did not check it all over personally; and her staff all knew that she would be here doing it. She had been sitting at her computer monitor, studying it intently, with her back toward the cages holding the lab animals, when suddenly everything went dark.
She woke to find herself lying on the floor bound, gagged, and very naked, with Specimen X-23 (it made it easier to think of them as lab animals, and suppress residual feelings of guilt, if you avoided using human names for them) squatting over her and judiciously squeezing her left tit (the larger one), as she withdrew a syringe from it. X-23 was a tall, muscular Latina woman, just as naked as Hannah now was. In her hazy shock, Hannah thought that X-23's shiny nipple and labia piercings looked very nice indeed. Hannah had an excellent view of them from this angle, with said labia so close to her face.
X-23 was smiling broadly, and the door to her cage was hanging open. X-23, a condemned prisoner like all the other specimens, had been a notorious criminal and master thief before her capture and trial. Hannah realized, with perfect hindsight, that she really should have upgraded the locks on the specimens' cages.
Dr. Livingstone saw with trepidation that X-23 was fiddling with the settings on the tattoo gun that was used to label all the specimens. She then hooked a bare foot under Hannah, and flipped her bound body over onto her face. Hannah then felt the painful impact of the bar code tattoo gun on her left ass cheek, before X-23 rolled her over again, and informed her with some glee that she was now the new X-23. Hannah realized with horror what that meant. The real X-23 then completed Hannah's physical modifications by pulling the piercing equipment out of a drawer and inserting shiny rings in Hannah's nipples and labia, to match X-23's own adornments. Hannah was now physically indistinguishable from any of the lab animals.
Hannah then watched numbly as X-23 sauntered over to her desk and sat down at her computer, where Hannah was still logged in, with full access to everything on the institute's server. She could see enough of the screen from her spot on the floor to watch as X-23, using Hannah's top-level security credentials and administrator access, opened Hannah's personnel file and her own lab animal records, and adroitly switched their biometric details, fingerprints, and identity photographs, effectively switching their official identities for all future automated identity verifications. X-23 was now officially Dr. Hannah Livingstone, while Hannah had officially become a naked lab animal, Specimen X-23--and the legal property of her own research institute.
The real X-23 next emptied Hannah's online banking account; printed out Hannah's invitation to an academic conference at the sector capital; and printed Hannah's first-class spaceship ticket, which would be her way off the planet. The smirking Latina, still carelessly naked, easily lifted Hannah from the floor, carried her over to her former cage (Hannah tried to enjoy her contact with X-23's generous bosom, which was likely to be her last opportunity for human contact for some time), dumped her in, and locked its door.
The other lab animals, all naked women of various shapes and sizes (except skinny), stared at Hannah dully out of their own cages, drugged into a stupor for ease of handling. They had no need to be fully conscious for most of what they were used for, and Hannah usually told herself that keeping them sedated was a mercy. (It had occasionally been suggested that it would be cheaper and easier to just lobotomize them all and have done with it, but an outraged Hannah had always vetoed it.) How had X-23 been able to avoid sedation?
X-23 then casually dressed herself in Dr. Livingstone's clothes and lab smock, grabbed Hannah's purse and keys, and mockingly blew a kiss to the new X-23, turning out the lights on her way out the door. Was she also going to loot Hannah's home before leaving the planet? Hannah knew that the other woman would never show up at the conference, of course, and "Dr. Hannah Livingstone" would simply vanish into the crowded galaxy, never to be heard from again. Anyone who eventually thought to look for the real Hannah, when she never returned to work, would be following a false trail, far from this world.
Hannah was still having trouble even comprehending that this had happened so abruptly. She lay bound and gagged in the darkness all night long, weeping silently and waiting tensely for what she knew was coming. She heard only the snores of the other lab animals. She slept fitfully, and was woken by the click of the robot handler opening the latch of her cage, right on schedule. The handler, a marvel of female manipulation technology, smoothly pulled her naked body from the cage by her ankles, scanned the bar code on her ass to confirm that she was X-23, the specimen it had been assigned to pick up, and easily lifted her overhead in multiple articulated arms, rolling out the door with her.
Hannah was desperate to catch someone's eye as they moved through the corridors, even though it would be so embarrassing for any of her subordinates to see her displayed naked like this, carried with her face down and her ass up and forwards with her bar code clearly visible. It was still too early for her staff to have come to work, however. Anyone else who did not know her personally, however, would simply ogle her ass and assume she was just another lab animal; and in fact, she had no proof that she wasn't one. Who else would a robotic lab animal handler be carrying, after all?
Hannah was uncomfortably aware that she perfectly matched the physical parameters they would be expecting to see, especially her large, jiggling breasts--not to mention that a stranger would not need to look any further than the bar code on her ass to dismiss her as a lab animal. Actually, some of her own staff might not even bother to look at her face if they could watch her ass instead.
No one miraculously showed up to save her, of course. She was entirely at the mercy of the automated processing that she herself had set into motion, and that would deliver her to her destination with no human intervention whatsoever. Sure enough, the handler brought her all too soon to an ominous-looking black metal box, vaguely resembling a large coffin, waiting inside a drone launching bay. Hannah knew very well what the box contained, and stared at it anxiously.
While still gripping Hannah's body tightly in its many robotic arms, her handler removed the makeshift gag and bindings X-23 had used, replacing them with a proper ball gag and wrist and ankle restraints, as well as a shock collar. Moving far too rapidly for Hannah to offer any resistance, it flipped her over onto her stomach and locked her wrists and ankles tightly together in a perfect hogtie, and pressed her down against the metal box, positioning her precisely against the outlined target areas.
Immediately, sturdy magnetic clamps automatically locked onto Hannah's nipple and labia piercings and pulled them tight against the box. She was really wishing now that she had overruled some of her male subordinates' more exotic suggestions for female restraints, instead of humoring their perversions for the sake of office harmony. It was challenging for a woman to supervise ambitious male subordinates, even in this far future age... and the females in question were all convicted criminals, anyway, the worst of the worst, so she had given in without too much of a fight. She was pretty sure that some of her male staff had fantasized about seeing her treated like this, too.
