Taming Satie Pt. 01

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A scientist and his love bot tame a lovely but wild girl.
3.4k words
4.5
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Part 1 of the 6 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 03/05/2019
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What happens when you fall in love with your science project?

I really need to specify that in this case, we're talking about a project that's really elaborate, expensive and outrageously lovely. We're talking about a fully sentient android, one with the body of a goddess and the face of an angel.

It almost began as something untainted by blatant sexual deviance. Almost. I needed a partner to help me conduct my research and to back me up during my extremely hazardous expeditions so, being the incredible cybernetics prodigy that I am, I created Sy. I also happen to be brutally antisocial. The idea of spending my days with a machine was therefore more pleasant.

When I designed Sy, I decided not to limit her to the primary purpose of being a "fellow" scientist that happened to be very good with heavy cannons and various other deadly particle weapons. I asked myself: "What more do I want? What more do I need?" And, being a completely hopeless pervert, the answer was simple: a sex goddess to obey my every desire. The programming would be hell and the results could be nothing less than deadly but hey, fortune favors the bold.

And so Sy came to be. I had to cross (read: blatantly ignore) several laws. It's apparently illegal to "force" a machine into sex slavery. Ask Sy what she thinks. She was programmed to enjoy being fucked. I guarantee you won't be disappointed.

Some other obstacles had to be dealt with as well. I may be a freakin wizard when it comes to programming positronic matrix and designing cybernetic frames, when it comes to putting visual aesthetics together, I'm not exactly an artist. In order for Sy to be as pretty and as hot as I intended her to be, it's not entirely impossible that I happened to acquire 3D renderings of a few women who remain blissfully ignorant of the fact. It's not like Sy is a copy of any of them; think of her as the sum of all the best features of every "mother" she has.

As I just said, this is how Sy came to be; the very short version at least. The longer version will have to wait another day.

What needs to be remembered is that for the last two years or so, I have shared the quintessential part of my life with a remarkable android that I happen to love to an obsessive degree. Well. It wasn't always so. At first I just wanted to use her for what she was designed for but against any judgement, good or bad, I did fall in love with her.

Fortunately, she was programmed to return this love to me. Over the months, her matrix learned, evolved and changed into something more complete than what I originally made it. I'd say with enough confidence that her "conditioned" love doesn't exist any longer. It doesn't need to, Sy genuinely loves me now.

Keep in mind that I'm not some regular citizen on some peaceful core planet. I'm not a rich dude living in the penthouse in a metropolis on a nice happy world. I'm a loner, I live by myself in a remote, autonomous space facility. This implies that I need vast and constant funding: Sy was an extremely expensive project. She also happens to be outrageously illegal, which then implies a need for some airtight privacy, which finally means an even larger need for funds. My main source of income is through financial backers, mostly anonymous who pay me extremely well for any scientific edge I bring them.

That's who I am in a nutshell. I hunt and I sell. Trade secrets, tech, science. Mostly illegal, generally dangerous.

Unfortunately for me, trade secrets, alien artefacts and bleeding edge tech prototypes are not some common currency you acquire by visiting peaceful planets and patrolled routes. Risks have to be taken. Sometimes, personal initiative leads me to remote places that need to be explored and plundered. More often than not, I am also required to "visit" one of my backer's competitors and "acquire" various resources from them. These are easily the most rewarding jobs but they're also the most deadly ones.

You see, this universe we live in features a myriad of colorful ways to see our lives unpleasantly ended, from savage mutant beasts to rogue androids, enemy security forces and let's not forget the occasional hostile alien party. This is also where Sy comes into play. As I mentioned earlier, before being a sex toy and a really pretty lab assistant, she was designed to be a combat machine, specializing in the ballistic art of making things go dead. However, when our lives are decided by the issue of a battle forced upon us while exploring some derelict spaceship or some long lost ruin, I'd rather have Sy focused on shooting things down and not worrying on how our next sex game will play out.

This is why her sex drive can be adjusted through one of the most expensive piece of hardware in her whole body. I pondered long and hard before outfitting Sy with this particular toy; the technology was experimental at best and the control software was incomplete. It's a very small module resting next to her positronic brain, able to receive and decipher certain brainwaves from living beings.

The tech I am referring to was initially developed by a small firm (that doesn't officially exist of course) to try and create androids who could read minds and steal secrets from people in complete immunity. Their project is doomed in advance, the device they made will never work as it has been intended. I know this because I "borrowed" a sample from them and investigated it. However, with some creative mods on my part, I was able to make the device grab certain simple brainwaves and turn them into basic instructions.

Long story short, with carefully formed thoughts, I can quietly control this device to regulate some of Sy's functions, such as her sex drive and her reaction to physical contact. Her desire can be adjusted from an almost complete indifference to an overwhelming need to be brutally fucked several times a day while her sensitivity to physical stimuli can be set to a complete indifference, which helps with pain received in battle, to complete ecstasy from the lightest brush of my finger.

The best part? Her thought-matrix is aware of when I use that feature and, as months went by, it gradually became a natural turn-on for her. Sy calls it "our intimate link".

Do I enjoy exposing Sy to the danger of my expeditions? Not really. I love her and I want her by my side but I'd be lying if I did not readily admit she is a hell of a lot more protected and durable than I am. She is protected by a custom made cybersuit and she wields some of the most deadly weapons money can buy. Also: she's repairable as long as she isn't too extensively damaged.

Fortunately, as of today, the worse she ever had was a few deep but non-lethal wounds and a few cases of singed skin. Her skeleton frame is nigh indestructible, her polysilicon flesh and her pseudo-dermal skin tissue can quickly regenerate itself when provided with enough energy.

In the end, Sy can easily and efficiently fulfill all three roles she was meant to play: a deadly mission partner to keep me alive, an efficient lab assistant with an advanced computer for a brain and a submissive sex slave with the perfect body.

And when I say perfect, I mean it. At six feet tall, slightly taller than myself, Sy looks like an antique statue come to life. Everything about her is regal and elegant. Very long, golden blonde hair which is slightly wavy. Her expressive eyes are amber yellow and her skin looks like she's got a soft, discreet but perpetual tan. Her body curves are to die for. Generous but firm breasts, they're just the right size, not at all overly large still, nothing to leave a man wanting. Her hips are long and slender, surrounding a very nice and well defined butt. Her sex is soft, deep and warm, crowned with a lovely mane of straight, soft golden hair.

All introductions done, let's move on to the topic at hand. Sy and myself were just back from a particularly lucrative venture that should have been a lot more dangerous but played out rather well. This left me with enough funds to enjoy a solid two to three months of vacation without worrying about financial surprises. I was rather pleased with this because it allowed me to implement another project I have been working on for a while now.

Last year, I was approached by a private consortium that asked me to do some fringe research into mutant DNA. I didn't ask what they wanted to do with the results but from this group's portfolio, I expect to see everything from expensive medicine to biological weapons.

Frankly, I don't care. Far from me to try and steer the universe into a direction or another. As long as I get paid.

This led me to acquire mutant DNA samples here and there. Hardly a difficult task really. All I needed to do was visit specific places and pay to get hair samples, skin samples and so on.

I was however quickly bored by the results of my research. The vast majority of the mutant population lives integrated into core world society because the nature of their mutation is either invisible or so negligibly small it doesn't prevent them from living normal lives. There is not much challenge into mapping the DNA of a woman with fluorescent hair or a man with eyes that can see a little better in the dark. Mutation is just a word to describe DNA that no longer follows "the norm".

The more interesting mutant specimens are interned because as a general rule of thumb, their mutation affects their brains to a point where then cannot successfully integrate into society. Those are a lot more fun to research but acquiring samples from them is a lot harder: mutant asylums are generally private ventures and the owners are either extremely stingy with their resources or too nosy for my own tastes. I like my work to remain... discrete.

This is why I decided to seek my samples elsewhere. On remote worlds where central governments are not fully integrated and society is ruled by smaller, more authoritarian bodies, dysfunctional mutants are not tolerated. Most of the time, they will be ostracized and persecuted. This generally prompts them to go into hiding because fringe society has a bad habit of making them "disappear" when they are caught. This led some less scrupulous individuals into rather distasteful ventures. Mutants forced into labor, slavery and of course, prostitution. It took me some doing and a rather hefty sum of money but I managed to create anonymous links with a few of those "organizations" and quietly visited them to acquire my samples.

During one of those visit on a particularly unforgiving planet of the Denrus sector, I encountered Satie. Though her "owners" weren't even sure is she was a mutant, my interest in her was immediate and absolute.

We're no longer talking about strange hair and better eyes here. Most mutants I visited in such remote places were either haphazardly misshapen or so brutally damaged from a lifetime of abuse, they were almost painful to look at. That was however not Satie's case. She was kept in prime condition.

You see, Satie was unbelievably hot. Her long, feral orange hair clashed with her pale skin and her coppery eyes. She has a lithe, athletic body which features small, firm tits and a round, tight butt that drove me insane with desire the moment I saw it. She was filthy and unkempt but she emanated such a powerful sexual magnetism, to me at least, that I was immediately convinced I had to bring her back with me.

Unfortunately, Satie also happened to be a brutal savage, almost bestial in her demeanor. Satie was kept in cage, nude and barely attended to. Her "owner" hoped she could one day be tamed and used for all the obvious purposes. She had been acquired some months ago. I was told that that one of the current owner's employees had recently tried to enter her pen and force himself on her. They found him dead, his neck snapped and several his bones shattered, not to mention the multiple bite wounds all over his body.

That was Satie's story. Bounced from cage to cage by owners who could not decide what to do with her but didn't want to kill or abandon her because she was so potentially valuable. She fetched a good price on the market and so Satie moved around like a common animal until the day I happened to see her. She might have been a "normal" person, once but her life of cage and abuse had turned her into something no society could ever hope to integrate.

Society made her into an animal and now society would have her put down.

I do not have a tremendous amount respect for society, as you may have noticed.

It was easy to convince her owner to sell her to me. I induced her into a chemical coma and brought her back home so I could study her and hopefully have a lot more success than all her former idiotic owners.

This is the project I mentioned. A sleeping beauty that needed fixing. So yeah, the free time was most welcome.

The first thing I discovered about Satie was that she was indeed a mutant. Her behavior was caused by her own particular mutation: a fiercely unbalanced hormone system. Judging from the degradation of her DNA pattern, Satie was in her early twenties. Barely out of puberty, she was dominated by excessive destructive impulses that her brain could not even come close to manage on its own. With Sy's help, using outsourced data I paid somewhat more than I like to admit, I quickly devised a formula to regulate Satie's most obvious hormonal imbalances. We kept her under coma and monitored her brain activity for several days before finally deciding that waking her was worth the risk.

What happened was not quite what we expected. Satie was no longer aggressive or destructive but no hormonal change I could induce would make her forget the years of abuse she lived. For the first few days, Satie was scared and did not trust us at all. Though she did not look like she wanted to attack, there was no way we could approach her. She ate and drank but keeping her clean and attending to her was only doable while she was artificially asleep. Basically, she was still an animal but she was under control.

I remember when Sy washed her completely for the first time, when I saw her, I almost fainted. Satie was not only hot, she was lovely, gorgeous. Her hair was long and silky, her skin creamy soft. I wanted her so, so bad...

I had to introduce powerful relaxants into her food to manage to approach her without scaring her. It took a few more days before she allowed us to touch her while she was conscious. A soft caress from me, a gentle hug from Sy. Slowly but surely, Satie became convinced that we did not want to hurt her and this is how I was gradually able to diminish her dose of relaxants. This allowed her to be more aware. At first, even though her brain scans showed a potential for normal intellect, Satie had been communicating through simple two or three word sentences. Gradually, as she gathered her wits about her, she spoke with more elaborate sentences and finally, I was able to tell her exactly what was what. Turns out that under that feral stare, she was pretty smart.

I am a pervert but I'm not a monster. Though my desire to fuck her into oblivion was a burning absolute, I would not ever think of doing it against her will so, for a long few days, I worked with Satie to integrate her into the household and explain her how she was now free to do as she wished. Sy was concerned that Satie might be tempted to flee but I refused to restrain her, physically or chemically. Instead, I chose to explain how she would most likely become a prey again if she ventured out on her own.

In a sad, unforgiving way, she was trapped here just like she was before, except this time, the cage was comfortable and invisible. I owned the chemicals that kept her sane and I served as a guardian between her and a harsh universe that would not hesitate to rape her and use her until she would go mad once more. Satie was a smart girl. She quickly understood this and chose to cooperate and be part of our group. She became integrated enough to be considered "family" and our kindness to her was amply reciprocated: she genuinely liked us and enjoyed our company.

Satie was also well aware of the effect she had on me and I noticed how it amused her to no end. Modesty was not her forte, she mostly wore clothing that made her look extremely enticing or simply went about her business completely nude, sometimes opting for something in between: topless, pantless, underwear... as long as it kept my eyes on her, Satie was happy. She never strayed very far from me and kept a mostly playful attitude when I interacted with her, sitting on my lap, hugging me and kissing me deeply whenever she felt like it. I wouldn't say she felt romantic love towards me, her emotional persona was probably not mature enough to feel such a complex emotion. It was clear however that she did all she could to please me and the pleasure she displayed was obviously not faked. Sy decided that Satie felt I was the one person that kept her away from all the suffering she so far endured so, she did all she thought was best to keep me interested in her.

Yet through all this teasing, Satie never allowed me any true sexual interaction with her. I know for a fact that she spied on Sy and myself a few times as we were having sex but she never asked to join or to have some of her own.

This all remained fine for a few more days but gradually, Satie became more undisciplined and restless. She was still far from dangerous but her mood swings were getting more numerous and intense. I was at a loss. I picked a few fights with her and had to verbally discipline her like a troublesome teenager. There was no apparent reason for any of this and it drove me insane. I was not used to be challenged. Sy always voiced her opinion but in the end, she knew who the boss was. I considered spanking her but soon concluded that doing so would be mostly kinky and not quite disciplinary. Probably counter-productive as well.

I was still not completely familiar with Satie chemical makeup so I wasn't readily able to understand what was wrong with her until I made a very interesting discovery: Satie's hypothalamus gland secreted a neuro-hormone that was not at all human. What made this hormone extremely interesting was that it was prolifically isomorphic. In common terms: it could be altered, changed, molded into whatever was needed by her body. Unfortunately, a deficiency in her mutant DNA made it so her body had no idea what to do with this hormone and that was precisely why she was always out of control. So far, it had been undetected because it was either not present enough or simply drowned by the other hormones which I was now controlling.

One thing was for certain: it was that hormone that created Satie's mood swings. I needed a way to mold it properly. Though I understood how to do it, I had no idea what the final result should look like and for a few days, all I managed to do was create more mood swings from her.

So close to my goal yet so far, this frustrated me to no end. I chose to give Satie a break and decided to work on a fun project I had planned for Sy instead.

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maddictmaddictabout 5 years ago
I know

I believe you can use testosterone, you can never give a girl too much T. I look forward to your method of application

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