Artemis' Bow Part 10 (Patreon)

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!!!Important! This is EARLY ACCESS voting! The THREE most popular votes here will be put to FA and a general vote, for the final decision as to what happens in the story. Vote for your preference now, to make sure you see it as an option in the final post. This is your chance to shape the story in advance of its release to FA!

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Part 10:

“It’s not that bad,” she told herself. “You can do this Artemis.”

Demeter chimed in with, “It really isn’t as noticeable as you think.”

“Shut it you, I’m not talking to you.” Artemis snapped as she examined herself in the reflection of her mirror.

“What did I do?” Demeter casually inquired, Artemis ignored her.

It had been three days since her little binge and subsequent food coma. The results were, in Artemis’s opinion, absolutely catastrophic. Gently, she poked her stomach where it pooched over the waistband of her shorts, her shaking finger sinking up to the second knuckle. Three days ago she’d been chubby at the most, wearing the small ring of flab that almost all spacers got after occupying the same vessel for any extended length of time. To call her chubby at this point would be charitable; her rounded middle had ballooned into a soft, drooping pot belly that folded over her waistband and obscured her crotch. The pudge wrapped around her sides as a stack of two love handles, thicker than she could grab with one hand. Worst of all, as she studied her neck and jawline, she could see the beginnings of a double chin.

“I... I am going on a diet,” the wolf muttered to herself.

- - -

Aava belched and lazily scratched the fluffy, bloated dome of her stomach. The rabbit was feeling particularly self-satisfied, having been for the most part proud of the impact she and Alexandra had made on the captain’s figure. Artemis had barely left her room for the past couple of days, insisting that Demeter deliver her meals directly to the cabin, undoubtedly because she was too embarrassed to be seen. Aava found that a bit unfortunate as Artemis had puffed up into quite the cute little fatty, but Aava’s own size had taught her the value of patience. Leaning back in a bioplast-leather chair in the galley, Aava was just waiting for Artemis to stumble upon the realisation that her lack of exposure meant an equal lack of exercise that would only contribute to the pounds on her waist.

Aava was also satisfied with the lunch she had just eaten, a large meal even by her standards, leaving her full and contented. She was also pleased with the durability of her new outfit.

The rabbit had struggled to wear any of her usual clothing, the result of her own experience with Demeter in Augmented Reality. Most of her clothes would stretch until they tore, typically when forced over her burgeoning stomach or bloated bubble butt, and those that didn’t would remain so intolerably form fitting it would almost be better not to wear anything at all. After ripping a few outfits she had instructed Demeter to cook something up in the fab unit down by the cargo bay, as the one in the kitchen was dedicated to meals for food-safety reasons. One of the AI’s drones had returned with a number of outfits draped between its arms. Nothing had been incredibly stylish, but they’d all fit and, Aava had noticed, they all had room to grow.

Of the lot, she had selected the thigh-high lavender dress for her visit to the galley, which left her arms and legs bare and her stomach proudly displayed by the shiny purple fabric that had an almost latex quality to it.

It also made a pleasant squeaking sound when she rubbed her fingers against it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Alexandra asked.

Aava jumped, her stomach wobbling beneath her as she pulled her fingers away from where they had been massaging her wonderful, growing gut. She blushed slightly, but managed to keep her chin up as she watched Alexandra slide into the galley. Aava wondered how long she’d been watching.

Before she could ask, Alexandra jumped in first with, “Demeter asked me to get you, the chef’s fabricator is on the fritz.”

The dragoness stretched before scratching her stomach. It was barely even chubby, now that her draconic metabolism had had time to do its business.

“She wants me?” Aava asked, blinking. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You are the ship’s mechanic,” came Alexandra’s reply. The dragoness began to rummage through the galley’s cabinets, no doubt looking for a meal of her own. “Apparently it’s something to do with a misaligned cartridge, nothing big but Demeter can’t get up there by herself.”

Aava sighed and pulled herself slowly out of her chair, crumbs from her meal bouncing and trickling to the floor. Bound by contractual obligations, she decided she had better go take a look. Her body strained under her new weight, knees shaking for a moment as they struggled to lift her extra poundage up.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

- - -

The galley’s fabricator was an oven-sized specialty appliance. Whereas regular fab-units used canisters of component molecules to fabricate things from clothing to furniture, the galley’s fab-unit was a special model. With the right programming, it could use variety of stored cartridges full of compressed ingredients and create a meal that looked and tasted as though a chef had prepared it. Like most fabrication and printing units these days, it refilled itself, ejecting spent cartridges and reloading new ones from cargo. If Aava was being asked to go and fix it, it meant that the misaligned cartridge had probably messed with the autoloader. She’d have to climb into a maintenance hatch and crawl her way behind where the fabricator was installed in the galley, but the rest of the job would probably be fairly straightforward.

Deciding to tackle the problem from the maintenance hatch by the crew quarters, Aava arrived to see the top half of one of Demeter’s recently acquired cargo drones spilling from the entrance. It looked as though she’d managed to fit the main body of the drone within the relatively small vent, but her eight robotic arms couldn’t maneuver once inside. For a moment the drone spilled across the ground like spaghetti before it picked itself back up and began floating on its levplates.

“As you can see,” Demeter began, “My drones are unable to perform the required maintenance.”

“Yeah,” Aava said with a nod, her hands holding her stomach as she waddled over to the vent and bent down to peer inside. “That’s what we get for skimping on maintenance drones.”

Demeter remained silent, giving the rabbit a couple of moments to look around. The maintenance vent was tiny, so she’d have to go forward on her hands and knees and there definitely wasn’t room to turn around once she was in.

Frowning, Aava glanced back to where she was being watched by Demeter’s drone and asked, “You sure I’m going to fit in here?”

“In a relaxed state you are roughly 27 inches wide,” Demeter explained, bringing a blush to Aava’s round face. “The access vent is 29 inches wide. Provided your motion is limited to forwards and backwards, you will be able to perform the required repairs.”

She contemplated refusing, but Aava was probably the only one qualified to actually fix something if it was broken, and the idea of being without the special chef fab-unit was a more terrifying prospect than she wanted to tackle.

Aava took a deep breath and widened her stance. “Alright, might as well get this over and done with.”

She grunted as she got down on her hands and knees, embarrassed by how much longer it took now than it had two weeks ago. What was worse, although it definitely gave her a giddy little thrill, was that as she climbed into the vent she could feel her stomach dragging against the ground, smooshed up against her legs as she pulled herself forward.

“Don’t forget this,” Demeter called after her.

A spindly robotic hand slipped by and passed her an omni-tool before she managed to get too far. The cool, black, metal cylinder had been engraved with the variety of purposes it could fulfil. Without a toolbelt or pockets, Aava simply nodded, smiled, and tucked the cylinder between her breasts, hoping it didn’t slide out as she crawled forwards.

The ventilation duct was cramped and a little bit too warm for Aava’s taste, although she hadn’t expected any better considering it was a maintenance vent for a small crew ship. They weren’t exactly designed with comfort in mind. Despite the lack of room, the clammy temperature and a slightly moldy scent, Aava found herself able to make fine progress. Her journey might have been faster had she been about a hundred pounds less lardy, but the way her arms rubbed up against her breasts, and the way her thighs chafed and continuously bumped her pendulous stomach as she crawled sent pleasurable tingles down her spine. Aava almost felt disappointed that she found herself staring at the back of the fabrication unit so soon.

After fishing the omni-tool from her cleavage and unscrewing a hatch, she spent a couple of moments peering around before she could locate the autoloader, and from there the problem stuck out like a sore thumb.

One of the ingredient cartridges was bulging - likely a defect in its case had rendered it unable to contain its highly pressurized contents. When the autoloader went to swap it out with a functioning one, the bulge had caused it to slip out of alignment and, unable to get a proper hold on the canister, the whole thing shut down.

Aava rolled her eyes, slipping the omni-tool back between her breasts where the cool metal tickled the skin beneath her fur. It was a simple fix. Her chubby fingers clasped the malformed cartridge and, with a decent, tug it was prized free of the machine. The added pressure must have burst the cartridge's seal as it started spraying a foamy, light-pink goo into her face and across her chest. Coughing and spluttering, Aava forced the canister down so that its sticky liquid contents were splashed against the bottom of the vent and her stomach, rather than into her face.

“Try now!” Aava yelled, using her free hand to push the fab-unit’s back panel shut.

A little bit of the canister’s goop had found its way into her mouth and she blinked as the flavour hit her tongue, suddenly realizing how wonderfully sweet it tasted.

The whole vent shook gently as the fab-unit’s autoloader booted back up and although she couldn’t see it, she could hear its mechanical arms whirring as they retrieved a replacement canister and plugged it into the machine, which hummed its delight.

“It works,” Demeter’s voice echoed back from the other side of the fab-unit, perhaps from a drone or a loudspeaker, Aava couldn’t tell.

The rabbit was too busy licking her lips and cheeks of this sweet, gooey goodness. “Mmm,” She almost purred, exclaiming “What is this?”

She angled the cartridge's spray away from her face before pulling it up to the light of her omnitool. The canister was about as big as her round, flabby arm, roughly spanning the length from her elbow to her shoulder, and nearly as thick. Faded yellow letters on a scuffed white label proclaimed it to be, ‘C-F105’, and a little bit further down she read the words, ‘multipurpose sweetener’.

“I’m gonna help myself to a little more of that,” the rabbit mumbled to herself, angling the pink liquid spray back into her mouth where she gargled it for a moment, letting its sweet flavour and creamy texture fill her mouth before swallowing.

“Inadvisable,” Demeter’s called from from the other side of the now working, whirring fab-unit, her words nearly inaudible. “The contents of any one canister are under extreme pressure, their caloric content far exceeding the monthly recommended intake of most species.”

The AI’s words fell on deaf ears, as Aava was already lost in a world of artificial flavour-enhancing sweetness. The slick, gooey pink liquid tasted like fairy floss, raspberries, strawberries, bubblegum, and more, all at the same time. As though every single confection she’d ever tasted, every satisfying gulp of fruit, had been coalesced into a single, creamy mouthful. For minutes, it was all Aava could do, to keep up with the spurting rate that the liquid voided itself from the canister. Her world was nothing but a miasma of intoxicating flavour, and the rhythmic gulping of her throat as it worked to get more and more of this incredible liquid inside of her.

And then she heard the rip. Her dress gave way behind the slowly growing, furry globe of her stomach. Whilst she’d long ago been able to modify herself for added capacity and elasticity, the stretchy material that Demeter had used for Aava’s latest outfit quickly reached its limits, helpless against the rabbit’s swelling, sloshing gut. The first tear appeared down the side of her outfit, and though she couldn’t see it, she could suddenly feel the cool ventilation metal against her sloshing hide. Another tear opened up where the dress was struggling to contain her wobbling ass cheeks, and suddenly they were exposed to the ventilation shaft’s gentle breeze.

Squeaking, Aava looked down, her chins bunching as she tried to survey the damage she’d done to herself. Not much luck, as her stomach was pushing her breasts up against her chins and leaning past them would involve lowering herself further towards the ground than she thought she could feasibly go. It didn’t matter in the end, because a couple seconds of observation was all it took for her to find that what she could see was still swelling. The mixture was decompressing in her stomach, her creamy pale fur was rising like a marshmallow in a microwave.

Feeling more and more of herself begin to press against the walls of the maintenance vent, Aava quickly decided she would be better off outside the ventilation shaft and began to wiggle her way furiously backwards. The going was slow and her stomach sloshed and swelled with every frantic push of her legs. As her bloated creamy dome of a gut began to ease its way out of her dress, the fabric tearing loudly, she felt herself pressing against more and more of the bottom of the vent. Worse still, the taste of that sweet, creamy goop continued to lay across her tongue, the rabbit unable to keep from salivating over the thought of it.

“Just one more gulp,” she promised herself, picking the canister up from where it lay and pushing the foaming spray against her lips.

Instantly the sticky, goopy mess had sprayed across her face and chest. As Aava opened her mouth wide, she was rewarded with a couple of good gulps before she pressed her lips against the canister’s cool metal and started suckling. One swallow became two, and although she could feel herself expanding, feel the cool metal of the vent pressing against her wonderfully swollen sides, Aava couldn’t pull her mouth away. Her frantic escape became a slow, laborious, panting little shuffle. First she pushed one leg back, then her hand fought to find purchase on the ground beneath her swollen, glorping stomach, then the next leg slowly slid back and she tried to ignore the squeaking of her ass cheeks against the ceiling of the vent. Every second that passed, she could feel herself growing bigger. Wider. Fatter.

The rabbit blushed and squirmed, pushing the canister away from her mouth to clutch her stomach and feeling it wobble and stretch in her hands. Every moment she tried to push herself backwards, the struggle became harder and harder. She could feel herself filling every available inch of space around her, her already minimal clearance dwindling by the moment.. Her stomach, once a thick, blubbery mass of fur and doughy fat was now an expanding balloon that sloshed and glorped, approaching the size of a yoga ball as it smooshed around the rabbit it was attached to.

Finally, after a great deal of grunting and groaning, Aava could feel a cool breeze on her backside; a welcome relief from the muggy access shaft. All she had to do was crawl just a little further back, and she’d be free. One leg slid, squeaking firmly against the metal of the shaft, and her other leg followed. Then, as she went to push herself back with her hands, they slipped, struggling to find purchase in the goo that was now liberally coating the floor of the vent. Grunting, Aava tried again and again, but even after pushing away as much of the flavoursome goop as she could, the rabbit couldn’t make any more progress. She realised that it wasn’t the goo, or her slippery hands that were impeding her motion.

It was her body. Her swollen, glorping stomach had become large enough to finally and completely wedge her in the vent.

Opening her mouth to call for help, a sticky belch forced its way out first. Aava could feel her body rising like dough around her.

“D-Demeter?” she called, kicking her legs gently.

“I am here.” Came the AI’s voice.

It was close. Very close. She wondered how far away she’d been from freedom.

“I’m stuck,” the rabbit whimpered.

She’d eaten herself so fat, so wonderfully big, that her her fat thighs impulsively rubbed together. Even though the thought gave her a warm sense of pride, she was grateful that nobody could see her blush. She’d hate for someone to mistake her rosy cheeks for a sign of shame in herself as opposed to shame in the situation she found herself in.

“So I see.”

Cool metal hands grabbed Aava’s ankles and tugged gently, yet firmly. Her ass was now exposed to the ship’s cool, regulated temperature, her dress having ridden up or torn off at some point during her escape. She was, Aava realised, dangling from the vent, wedged inside it by her own blubber.

Stifling the pleasured shudders that ran through her body at the thought of her own size, Aava managed to steady her voice enough to ask, “Can you pull me out?”

She waited with baited breath, not sure if she could handle having to ask Alexandra or Artemis, dreading the thought of facing either of them in this condition.

“No,” Demeter replied. “Wait there. I will unweld the hatch frame.”

Aava’s cheeks flushed crimson as she hung, suspended by her own fat and left alone with just herself and the sensation of her still growing stomach. A little ways ahead, she saw the flavour-sweetener canister. It was still spewing its sweet, pink goop.

Aava licked her lips and reached for it.

Voting Options:

!!!Important! This is EARLY ACCESS voting! The THREE most popular votes here will be put to FA and a general vote, for the final decision as to what happens in the story. Vote for your preference now, to make sure you see it as an option in the final post. This is your chance to shape the story in advance of its release to FA! This option will be available for 48 hours! Remember to comment below to make use of your weighted votes!

Round 1: In the next chapter... https://strawpoll.com/rex9baz

A, Aava’s addiction. Her time in the ventilation shaft has landed Aava with an unhealthy addiction for artificial sweeteners. She attempts to fulfil this need with fabricated food, but it just doesn’t have the same bang that the canister did.

B, Alexandra’s Art. The Chef flexes her creative muscles, space is cold and lonely and having seen the crew’s latest weight gain, Alexandra just knows they’ll appreciate her culinary talents!

C, Triffle Trouble. Rodent-like critters (similar to but legally distinct from Tribbles) have become emboldened by the crew’s recent culinary habits (and a ventilation shaft full of sweetener). Where Artemis sees pests, Alexandra and Aava see dinner and Demeter sees a possible candidate for testing the medicinal mushrooms on.

D, Pudgy Pilots. Sometimes life is quiet; follow Artemis as she performs her daily routine in space and fights against her own hungry urges.

E, Exotic Escapism. Fighting with just how much she enjoyed being packed to the brim with food, Artemis escapes into Virtual Reality in an attempt to explore her burgeoning new desires. Will a simulation prove fulfilling or fruitless? Or will it feed into subconscious desires?