Hannahs Science Adventures Ch 01

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.

And with that thought, she realized with a sick sense of betrayal that X-23, who had mysteriously been left undrugged, must have had an accomplice on the inside. Maybe she had been freed deliberately, and hadn't even needed to pick the lock of her cage. Hannah even knew the most likely candidate for that betrayal--Dr. Morgan, her own deputy, who had made it clear he thought he deserved her job. Dr. Morgan, that conceited motherfucker! She had never seen a man so much in love with his own dick. She was positive it was him. His cronies were probably in on it too. She knew that she could come off as a little arrogant -- without false modesty, she knew she was a genius -- but had she really deserved this?

Well, now Dr. Morgan would have her job, power, and salary, not to mention the credit for all the scientific papers he was going to publish using the data from experimenting on her--at the small price of sacrificing Hannah. He would become the acting director as soon as she, or rather X-23, left for the conference, and Hannah's body would effectively become his property, God damn it! She wondered if Morgan and his bastard cronies would all be laughing together at the surveillance video of her bare-assed ride through the corridors.

The metal box to which Hannah had been secured then rolled up a ramp below a large heavy lifting drone, which lowered a set of clamps and attached Hannah's box to itself in turn. The drone carrying the box carrying Hannah then came to life, remotely controlled by the AI concealed inside Hannah's box; the heavy doors of the launch bay slid open, revealing an open sky just beginning to be lit by dawn; and as the sound of its propellers rose to a high-pitched hum, the cargo drone slid smoothly forward and out into the sky, dangling Hannah and her box below its belly, far above the ground.

The drone soon left behind Hannah's research institute, the human colony settlement, her home, all of Hannah's friends and colleagues, and everything that Hannah knew, and flew for hours across the alien wilderness as the sun rose in the sky. Hannah watched the ground below her silently, her back still arched in her hogtie, and trying to ignore how much her sensitive parts ached, as they passed over streams, lakes, hills, and uninhabited forests.

After a while, they passed the limits of the spread of human-imported vegetation, and were flying over completely alien forests. She knew what they were searching for, and could not help analyzing the configuration of the land below her, and trying anxiously to anticipate where she would be dropped--not that she could do anything about it. Her role was to be a passive one, now and forevermore. She would be lost in a remote alien wilderness, in any case.

Eventually, the AI found a match for the patterns it was looking for. It instructed the drone to release the metal box and its unwilling passenger. The drone flew on, no longer under the AI's control but programmed to return to its base, while the box, with Hannah blinking down from on top of it, fell and fell toward a clearing in the woods, which rapidly grew larger below them.

* * *

Hannah had no fear of being smashed to jelly by impact against the ground; she had planned too well for that. Even so, she knew that with her restrained by her sensitive bits, the landing would be an ordeal for her. As the box carrying her approached the ground, parachutes popped with a bang out of each of its four corners, catching the air as the box lurched and slowed hard, pulling Hannah's nipples and labia so hard that she was tearfully grateful that they were not torn off.

The box was still descending rapidly, but much slower than before, and as it finally approached the ground, it split apart, expanded, and unfolded multiple jointed limbs into something like a much larger version of the robotic handler from which it had received Hannah. It looked something like a cross between a spider and a scorpion, whose feet pressed hard against the ground and whose legs flexed as it landed, with Hannah still riding atop it.

Her body tried to bounce once or twice with the impact, but with her nipples and labia tethered, she could not bounce far (her breasts could only be stretched so far); and when her bouncing subsided, she rested on top of the robot, gasping with pain, for several minutes. Their flight had come to an end, and Hannah felt pride that everything had gone so smoothly, from her initial installation to their bumpy landing. Of course it should have, after so many tests and dry runs using the (other) lab animals.

She wondered whether anyone would ever find her and recognize her as the institute's former director, and whether they would even care. Now that she had become X-23, for all intents and purposes, she no longer had any legal human rights, and her owners could do with her as they wished. Her sole and flimsy protection was the legal regulations on animal experimentation, and the animal welfare regulations. At some point in the next year or two, she was supposed to get a visit from the Colonial SPCA, but the animal welfare officer would find the alleged X-23 in excellent health and physically fit.

His inspection of her would be a cursory one at best; this far away from civilization, he would be in a hurry to get back. If she were lucky, she might get a sympathetic pat on the ass as he left. She would certainly be gagged throughout the entire visit; lab animals were not allowed complaints or questions. So, there was no hope of announcing her real identity and begging for help; this was going to be permanent.

With her luck, she might even get the same animal welfare officer who had come to Hannah's research institute last month to check up on her lab animals. Hannah had let him fuck a couple of them as a bribe for a good report (not that her guinea pigs had been treated all that badly anyway--the bribe was just a precaution, and standard business practice); and Hannah could expect the same treatment. A corrupt inspector was even worse than a lazy one, though in the end it would make no real difference for her situation.

The data that the robot sent back would include video, but it was standard policy not to show lab animals' faces, to forestall any potential trouble from friends and relatives. The videos taken by the robot's cameras would display only an anonymous busty body, which none of Hannah's friends and colleagues would have been intimate enough with to recognize naked.

Hannah contemplated what was to come, and found herself increasingly fatalistic in the face of the inevitability of it all. She had planned all too well. What needed to happen to her, would happen to her; and her overwhelmingly stronger new robot owner would not even notice if she resisted, so why bother? In any case, she had invested so much of herself in this project, and was so proud of what she had accomplished, that she was eager to see it through. She was going to complete the mission, damn it. It was for Science!

When she had recovered her breath, the robot reached to her face and removed her ball gag, which had been there for aesthetic reasons only (i.e., to please the perverts); her shock collar was already very effective at preventing human speech. The robot then suddenly gripped her by the upper arms and thighs, released her nipple and labia restraints with a click (finally!), and released the wrist and ankle restraints that held her in her hogtie. The robot raised her ass high in the air to expose her genitals, spreading her legs wide, her head hanging downward. Its scorpion tail (actually a sophisticated metallic tentacle) smoothly curved upwards, taking aim at her vagina, and then speared into it, the dildo at the end of its tail impaling her with a meaty thud. It began thrusting into her with great force, as her ass jiggled and her breasts swung forward and back in a faster and faster rhythm. Her hair whipped back and forth with the violence of her fucking. Hannah had trouble catching her breath, and gasped for breath over and over again as the robot rhythmically launched itself into her.

She felt pride at the accuracy of its aim during copulation (it had not missed her vagina once), and congratulated herself on her design again; having that monstrous dildo jackhammering into her anus would have been highly unpleasant. She came quickly, but the robot showed no sign of stopping. It fucked her into a second orgasm, and then a third, slapping against her flesh, to the sound of loud shrieks of ecstasy from Hannah that echoed across the clearing, before she felt semen spurting into her, and the scorpion tail withdrew from her.

Hannah had just been artifically inseminated, for the first and not last time, and she was very proud of how well the robot had accomplished this task. She wondered whether her brainchild had any idea that it had basically just impregnated its mother. The robot did know that it would be scheduled to gradually empty its semen reservoirs into her over the coming years as the assigned times came for her to be re-inseminated.

The robot now tilted her far forward, almost upside down, with her breasts flopping against her chin and her ass up top, to improve the odds of its semen entering Hannah's womb instead of leaking out. It held her upside down for about 20 minutes.