Commander Manoa Vs. The Bellyjacker - Part 4 (Patreon)

Premise and art by me, written by Haxcall. Check them out on Twitter, DeviantArt, and Patreon for lots more fun BBW-centered stories!

Non-gassy art varient is attached to this post.

Fuku-M1 loves her job with all her cold robotic heart.

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Manoa clumsily fumbled her hands behind her in a vain attempt to hide the large tear behind her. As she did, a familiar face suddenly appeared in front of her with a concerned look on her face. It was the ship’s A.I., BOD-AC1A. The self aware program interacted with the crew by taking the form of the floating upper torso of a very well endowed black woman, with the holographic bust having a b ust with b oobs that were almost four times bigger than her head.  Much like with the ship, the designers and programmers swore up and down that it wasn’t intentionally lewd, though they couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation as to why.

“Manoa, is something wrong?” She asked.

“I’m fine.” Manoa said halfheartedly.

“Really. In the past six weeks, your weight has increased by 120 percent and I’ve contacted the captain and he agreed that you’re off duty until you get medically cleared.”

Manoa groaned and reluctantly waddled down to the Mother Ship’s medbay which was run by the vessel’s medbot, Fuku-M1. Fuku-M1 was a white android whose most defining physical characteristic was the two gigantic orbs attached to her chest that stored both her various mechanical systems and medical equipment. The Space Fleet higher ups finally called out the designers and engineers for their pervy aesthetic choices but Fuku-M1 had already been produced before a redesign could commence.

Manoa liked her well enough but she could never shake the feeling that the medbot had an obsession with her that went beyond her caretaking programming. It was part of the reason why Manoa had been so hesitant to visit her despite her ongoing issues. Despite having advanced medical scanning technology, Fuku-M1 would always insist on doing extensive physical examinations that involved a lot of g roping, p rodding and r ectal probing, something that the robot only seemed to do with her for some unknown reason.

Manoa entered the automatic doors of the medbay, only to forget to go in sideways and found herself stuck in the doorframe.

“Commander Manoa!” Fuku-M1 gasped, her internal servos and wirings heating so much that her polished, chalk white metal face almost looked like it was blushing. “I had heard from BOD-AC1A that you were having weight issues but I didn’t know it was this severe!”

“Yeah well, I don’t think it’s that much of an issue but the captain insists that you need to give me a check up.” Mano blustered as she tried and failed to free her hips.

“Don’t worry, a thorough examination should get to the root of the problem!” The robotic nurse exclaimed. “Let’s get you out of that door and out of those clothes and we can get started!”

Manoa sighed as the medbot pulled her free from the door. She allowed Fuku-M1 to strip her and help heave her onto the examination table where assumed her familiar ‘examination position’ of lying on her stomach with her legs widened apart.

Manoa winced as she felt the familiar sensation of the medbot’s cold hands spreading her b uttcheeks apart but instead of it being followed half an hour of orifice probing it was instead followed by a loud gasp from the robotic nurse.

“Commander, I’m sorry but your previous ‘problem’ seems to be making a reappearance.” Fuku-M1 explained.

A screen near Manoa’s face lit up with a live feed of what Fuku-M1 was seeing. It showed that between her cheeks something resembling an oversized, blue, donut-like s phincter sat fused to the skin, capping her own b utthole. They watched it briefly unclench, releasing a popping raspberry of a fart before pinching shut again. This had happened to Manoa and she had become so used to the feeling that she hadn’t noticed it.

“Oh Jesus, again? Another f ucking symbiotic?!” Manoa whined dejectedly. She just couldn’t seem to shake this thing!

“It seems so…” Fuku-M1 mused. “I think we need to examine it a little closer.”

“A medical scan?” Manoa asked hopefully.

“Mmm… something a little more ‘hands-on,’ I think.” The medbot answered.

“Of course…” Manoa thought dejectedly as she felt the medbot spread her fat c heeks wide and begin to finger her plugged up opening.

Fuku-M1 briefly poked her finger into the gaping opening before Manoa released an involuntary gust of air and the ‘donut hole’ grew bigger. It was almost as if the thing inside her was attempting to take some kind of aggressive posture.

“Fascinating. There was little actual methane in that outburst. Most of it was relatively clean air.”

Fuku-M1 decided to do a medical scan but instead of using the non-invasive equipment she had on hand, she inserted as much of it as she could into Manoa’s hole, using sensors on her fingers to scan her symbiote coated insides. As Manoa winced at the near f isting she was receiving, she felt pressure building up inside her once more.

She felt a familiar slimy sensation slither up her throat and expand her esophagus before a mighty, tasteless belch erupted from her lips and took nearly fifteen seconds to subside. Manoa realized the symbiote had just extended itself all the way up into her mouth, where now it coated her tongue, the inside of her lips, everything. She spat a few times in disgust, but only managed to get her lower lip glistening with drool. Now she was salivating out of control!

After about five minutes, Fuku-M1 finally removed her hand and uploaded her findings. The screen near Manoa changed to a simplistic outline of her body. It depicted that inside of her was a thick bluish tube from her and many weed-like tendrils rooting themselves throughout her body’s fat stores.

“We thought we had rid your body of the symbiote but remnants of it still remained in your intestine and has recently grown and adapted into a brand new variant that survives from inside the body. It appears that it has managed to coat most of your digestive tract and root itself in your body tissue. It seems to be feeding on both your body fat and the excess calories and nutrients that would normally be expelled as waste. All of this ‘gas’ that you keep releasing is actually just oxygen it releases as a byproduct from its own consumption.

“Okay, so how do we get rid of it?” Manoa asked, with a hint of a slur as she worked her thinly coated lips and tongue.

“This new variant is something that’s unprecedented. I won’t be able to do much here. We’ll have to send you to a more equipped medical station for them to decide the best method of treatment.”

(To be continued!)