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Artemis' Bow, Part 13
🕑 Added 2017-07-14 16:13:05 +0000 UTC ---------------I would love to thank FireFox for all the hard work he does, editing these stories! Thank you so much Firefox , and if you're interested in seeing some WONDERFUL fatty art, please check out his page in the links above!
The second of three Artemis' Bow pieces I have planned for this month!
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Part 13:
Julius growled as his pudgy fingers tapped on the holographic tiles of his keyboard. There just wasn’t enough time. In front of him, his computer display cycled through formulas that he’d either gone through and rejected, or else knew he would have to reject soon, as well as sideshows displaying the woefully limited data that had been compiled from the colonists. Every analysed and catalogued plant, fungi and animal had been compiled into one depressingly small library, but even as the wolf’s eyes scanned over the three million odd list of creatures, he knew he wouldn’t find what he needed there.
No naively constructed database of settler knowledge could help the maned wolf and he knew that soon, nothing ever would.
Behind him a large fan swung ponderously from behind its protective metal shielding. It provided a low, thrum-thrum-thrum, as backdrop to the wolf’s muttered curses and occasional, explosive belching. The fans were cheap but effective, as was the rest of the room the wolf found himself in. A self contained environment, designed to monitor and regulate atmospheric conditions, completed by a rudimentary airlock that was nearing the end of its lifespan. Decorating the walls of the cheap, rust streaked metal room, were holographic displays and old fashioned gauges. They monitored everything from Network traffic to the levels of organic contamination present. The holodisplays provided the room’s only, dim light source, producing the barest hint of illumination.
A thick, bubbling belch rose slowly up Julius’ throat.
At first the maned wolf grimaced, and he contemplated holding the belch back. But the thought was fleeting and, knowing what damage it would do should he resist, the wolf opened his mouth wide and a belch erupted, pushed out into the room’s atmosphere with a cloud of forest-green gas. As though brushing aside an annoyance, Julius dispersed the cloud with a wave of his chubby paw, before turning his attention back to his computer terminal.
There, lit up in bright yellow letters, a system notification awaited his perusal. An eyebrow quirked, the wolf maneuvered his sausage fingers into a deft motion that drew the notification forward, hope rising in the pit of his stomach like the burp had, moments prior.
Someone had tripped his alarm system.
It took him nearly ten minutes to traverse his own firewall, unlocking and reactivating system after system, ever weary of the prospect of intrusion, but Julius’ confidence in his own abilities was only surpassed by his competence and finally, his main display soon gave him everything he could have wanted.
A ping.
It had been recorded from some unknown spacer’s AI, which his probes had caught pulling all intel on a certain, unidentified species of fungus. The AI had searched the colony’s database extensively, before expanding its search parameters to other local fungi in the region, with particular emphasis on certain qualities of size, shape, and genetic profile. Its queries might have been hard to detect for anyone else, but not for Julius, whose web was cast wide over the colony’s Network.
Sitting up in his chair, and ignoring its loud, tormented squeaks of protest, the maned wolf began to compile some data of his own. Questions would need to be answered, and soon. This nobody spacer was coming to Amanita Beta and, if he was lucky, Julius would be waiting for them. If he was very lucky, Julius would be the only one waiting for them. Cracking his knuckles, he got to work. There was a lot to do, and barely enough time to do it.
- - -
Watching Aava’s ass cheeks jiggle to and fro, seeming to be barely confined by the black fabric of her pants, was not how Artemis envisioned starting her morning. But then, things hadn’t been going exactly according to plan for a while now.
Artemis considered this, as the pair made their way slowly down to the cargo bay. The view wasn’t bad, per se, especially not after Artemis had learned to appreciate the finer things in the delicate wobble and bounce such a layer of blubber could afford. On the wolf’s part, she felt she wore her new weight gracefully now that she’d asked Demeter to fabricate some properly fitting clothes. She felt more like the captain she used to be; quick witted and in command. Just with a couple of extra pounds. A couple of dozen, extra pounds, in fact.
As the pair continued down the flight of stairs that would take them to the cargo bay proper, Artemis ran her fingers gently over her newly developed paunch. She had far more of a stomach than she’d have once thought possible, a gut that would have burst every shirt in her old wardrobe (and she had made Demeter fabricate a new one for her this morning). It would humiliate her on almost any port they docked at, an obvious sign of her gluttony and inability to control herself, but those were troubles for another day. For the moment, the wolf found that she rather enjoyed the extra warmth it brought. The extra sense of weight.
“Here we...are,” Aava managed between panting breaths.
She was out of breath by the time they’d descended the whole way to the cargo bay, and Artemis was hardly surprised. The rabbit looked to be at least thrice what the wolf weighed, with a stomach that hung well down to her knees and stuck out feet in front of her. Complimenting this belly were her thighs and breasts, each threatening to make clothing herself a near impossible chore in their own way. How she’d manage to slip into the smart-fabric jumpsuit that now covered her was beyond Artemis. Worse, in the wolf’s opinion, was that since the incident with the maintenance shaft, Aava had developed a fondness for unprocessed sweeteners. She had been indulging her sweet tooth at almost every opportunity and ballooning ever since.
Diverting her eyes from the wobbling, beanbag-sized sack of lard that was her crewmate’s stomach, Artemis glanced around to see that Aava had been referring to a stack of crates. The logos stamped into the plastic of their sides indicated that they were recently liberated from the hull of the Wayfarer ship.
“Demeter took a bunch when she realised they wouldn’t be needing ‘em on the way back,” explained the rabbit, leaning against one of the crates as she caught her breath. Her face was still flushed and she wiped a thick sheen of sweat from the fur of her forehead. “Got it all stored here, you wouldn’t believe the sort of junk they were packing.”
The rabbit, turned side-on to the crate so that she could fiddle with its heavy latches, her sausage fingers squishing into indents that were made for more dexterous appendages.
“Junk?” asked Artemis, the wolf frowning slightly as she moved forward to inspect the contents of the crates, just as Aava managed to disengage its lock.
The lid puffed out a jet of compressed air before sliding backwards and dropping to the floor.
From both everywhere and nowhere, Artemis heard Demeter’s voice ring inside her head. “Not exactly junk,” the AI stated. “The same potent combination of survival rations and emergency medication that were employed to great effect in immobilizing the crew of the Wayfarer SRE.”
From the way Aava’s eyes lit up, Artemis knew that the AI had spoken to her, as well. Wondering what the rabbit was up to, Artemis looked down into the crate and into the assortment of goods within. Rations were the majority of the crate’s composition, and from the goods manifest she had downloaded from the SRE shuttle, they would be what filled most the other crates, too. There was also medicine, though, in light blue coloured containers with red stripes. Artemis spotted first aid supplies, as well as more specialised medication that was meant for a dedicated medbay.
Artemis pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You’re sure none of this will be missed?”
“What you see is less than half of what was available in their cargo bay,” Demeter explained, “and, given the relative proximity to their station and the nature of their short range vessel, it is probable that they were fully resupplied within days.”
Aava was already opening a bag of dehydrated and compressed food rations, as Artemis turned her gaze towards the rabbit, an eyebrow arching,
Aava shrugged and dipped her paw into the now open packet. “What? Couldn’t hurt to try, could it?”
- - -
Whilst Artemis and Aava were going through their plundered loot, Alexandra had just finished getting dressed. She was on her way down to the galley when Demeter stopped her, a ping buzzing in the dragoness’ ear.
“What is it?” She asked, unable to hide a hint of irritability from her voice.
Alex was never herself until she’d had her daily dose of caffeine, and last night had been particularly bad on her back and wings. She was still stretching the stiffness from them.
“A comms request,” was Demeter’s instantaneous reply, the AI broadcasting herself from a nearby speaker as usual. “From Amanita Beta.”
Alex cocked her head to the side. “Where’s the cap?”
“In the cargo bay. She requested that you handle it, if possible.”
Nodding, Alex changed route and headed up the short hallway that lead to the cockpit. By the time she ascended the cockpit’s stairs and saddled herself in the pilot’s chair, a holographic readout informed her that her caller had been waiting for two minutes already.
Scratching her chin, the dragoness asked, “Do we know who it is?”
“Negative,” Demeter answered without a trace of emotion. “All I could gather was that he’s from Amanita Beta, the colony we’re approaching. He claims the communication is urgent.”
Wondering what could have distracted the captain from such a supposedly important call, Alexandra leaned forward and accepted the comms request with the flick of a switch. One of the monitors in the cockpit went completely dark. For a moment Alex wondered if they weren’t receiving a video signal at all, but the computer’s sensors gradually adjusted to account for the low light levels. Slowly, a fat wolf rendered into view, the room dark behind him.
Once the resolution and values had finished calibrating and Alexandra could see him more clearly, she considered fat to be an understatement. He was, without a doubt, one of the most out of shape creatures she’d ever seen, beaten perhaps, only by the bloated crew of the Wayfarer vessel they’d boarded a few weeks ago. He wasn’t fat in the traditional sense, either. Though the maned wolf huffed and wheezed with every breath, his stomach, or what she could see of it, looked as though he’d swallowed a large beachball and then inflated it. It was round, and almost gleamed in the half light of the monitor, appearing to be taut and full. With every breath, it rose a little more, and Alex wasn’t entirely sure that she saw it fall afterwards. The rest of the wolf was likewise bloated in appearance, from his puffy cheeks to his round fingers and wobbling arms.
It was such an unconventional look for a colonist to be sporting, Alex briefly entertained the idea that it was a fashion statement of some sort. But the rest of the wolf’s dishevelled appearance- his greasy fur and unkempt hair- reminded her more of someone who had simply let themselves go.
Really let themselves go.
She dragged a hand lazily across her face, wondering if this was a trick on her eyes as she wiped away the sleep. The wolf followed her with his gaze, no less fatter than he had been a moment ago.
“This is crew woman Alexandra of the ISS Jackal.” Alex paused as she found, once again, that her voice was more gruff than she’d intended it. She tried to speak a bit more softly as she asked, “Who’s calling?”
“Julius—” He was interrupted by an apparently unexpected bout of gas, managing to cover his face just in time to belch into a pudgy fist. “Fallen.” he continued after a moment, panting and wheezing his way through every word. “I’m a scientist down here on Amanita.” he took a moment to clutch his chest, clearly fighting for breath.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked, concerned more for her time and the length of the conversation than she was for the wolf. “Maybe you should see a doctor, you don’t sound so good.”
Julius must have found this amusing as he let out a couple of gasping laughs. “Doctor? I am a doctor. Or as good as anyone down here.” He paused again, this time seeming only to gather his composure. “You’ve got something on your ship Alex. Something very valuable.”
It was her years of experience that prevented Alex from betraying the truth with her shock. As it was, she merely blinked.
“What makes you say that?” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “And what’s some no name mud scraper doing trying to snoop in our cargo bay?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Julius growled as he rolled forward, obviously agitated. “You don’t know what you’re sitting on!”
He slammed his fists down on the table in front of him, and it looked as though he should like to stand, but found himself unwilling to expend the effort. Alex saw the thought run through him and knew in an instant, he hadn’t always been this big. In fact, the change had likely been very recent. He started coughing again, and this time, Alex thought she imagined a small, green cloud of smoke escaping in the wolf’s frantic gasps. Her jaw tensed, and she suddenly found herself in a lot less of a hurry to be done with the call.
Once Julias had stayed himself, he continued, his hacking seemingly having taken the fight out of him.
“If you haven’t been attacked already,” he said with a deathly serious look in his squinted eyes, “you will be soon.”
The wolf settled back into his chair, clutching his diaphragm like it was going to burst, and Alex took a quick moment to assess the situation. He knew they’d been attacked, or had guessed they were going to be, so he knew that they had the mushrooms, or else were a target of the Wayfarer corporation for some reason. She could continue to play ignorant, but she didn’t suspect he was the sort of person who would respond to that. If she confirmed their cargo for him, perhaps the wolf would show a little more of his hand.
Deciding that she stood to lose nothing, Alex nodded and said, “Yeah. We’ve got the cargo. What do you want with it?”
Julius looked as though he were about to deflate with relief, the wolf nearly sinking into himself as much as he was sinking into his chair.
“Thank the gods,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for the audio sensors to pick him up. “Listen to me, tell your captain, tell whoever you need to, you have to get those mushrooms down here, down to me, as soon as possible. They’re the only thing that can cure—”
A bout of coughing interrupted the wolf’s sentence, and he seemed to think better of it.
“They’re the only things that can fix things. Everything. This whole stinking colony. And you—” He jabbed a bloated finger at the viewscreen, directly at Alex. “They’re gonna keep coming after you. Wayfarer. Unless you can get that crate to me.”
Alexandra did her best to seem neutral as she considered the wolf’s words. He wasn’t lying, that much she could tell, but he obviously wasn’t telling the whole truth either. One thing she knew, however, was that he reeked of desperation. That was something she could use to her advantage.
She readied herself, making sure to avoid use of the word ‘mushrooms’, neither seeking to confirm nor deny more than she had to.
“If this cargo is so valuable to Wayfarer, obviously a—” She paused to look him up and down. “Distinguished client, such as yourself, would pay top credit for them?”
This did not seem to be the right thing to say. Whoever Julius was, it became immediately clear from the fury that bubbled up inside him that he did not have the credits to compete with Wayfarer.
“Listen here you little—” A belch cut off what he was going to say, but Alex figured that was no great loss. “If you wanna try selling that cargo to Wayfarer, be my f—”
Another belch, and Alex was sure she saw a green puff of smoke.
“Be my guest! But you already know they’ll space you the minute they have what they need.” His expression got darker, and his voice lower as he glowered into the viewscreen. “And I swear to the pantheon, if you screw over all these people down here, it won’t be the gods you have to answer to.”
She did her best not to react, but in truth Alex was shaken. Desperate apparently didn’t begin to cover the wolf’s need for this cargo, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was sick. He had almost said ‘cure’ earlier, in reference to what she assumed was his condition. The mushrooms were a kind of medicine, after all.
“I don’t have the authority to give you an answer,” the dragoness began, taking a deep breath, “but our captain will have one for you soon.”
“Good.” The wolf muttered, some of the tension seeming to leave his body. “Look, we have a chance to do great things here. Have your AI brief you on the details of the colony. They’re miserable, and we can fix it. All of it.”
The viewscreen went dark, the call was ended.
Alex stretched the muscles of her neck and wondered if Artemis were here, whether she could have performed better. Perhaps she might have negotiated a deal without enraging the client. If Julius was to even be their client.
“Demeter.”
“Yes, Alex?”
“Save a recording of that communication and have it sent to Artemis.”
“Consider it done.”
- - -
“It’s almost like sour candy,” Artemis said, and stuck her tongue out after managing to swallow the small, dry pellet that she’d been rolling around her mouth.
Use of the word “candy” was a little liberal when it came to the survival ration marked ‘desserts’. Wayfarer obviously valued their mercenaries’ tastebuds far less than they valued their stocks. After swallowing, a coarse powder coated the inside of her mouth and made every breath a struggle to keep from coughing. It wasn’t so much the taste as it was the texture that felt almost familiar; a sensation that lingered at the edge of her mind.
Aava, of course, didn’t seem too fussed.
“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” she said with a shrug, scooping out another handful and pushing it into her mouth.
Clearly she wasn’t thrilled with the flavour, or lack thereof, but she was no doubt interested to see how the crew of the Wayfarer SRE felt in the moments before their fateful expansion. On that point, so was Artemis.
“It’s like sour candy that was left in the rain,” Aava added as her own thoughtful critique.
Artemis chuckled at the thought. It felt good to be able to be able to laugh again, as there had been too few opportunities of late. She leaned down and scooped up another handful of the emergency ration, looking at the pellets that trickled from her hand. They were small, with varying tones of pink and blue.
She pushed the next handful into her mouth. Just as before, they rubbed coarse against her tongue and the roof of her mouth, softening only slightly as they were chewed and swallowed. Strangely, she thought about the small, candy-like pills being left in the rain.
And then Artemis remembered.
“They’re meals!” the wolf shrieked, spitting out the last few specks of dust and crumbs that had managed to cling to her tongue.
Her soft furred fingers scooped out as much of the gooey remains as they could, but couldn’t do anything for the handful she’d already ingested.
Aava gulped, meeting Artemis’ panic with confusion. “Meals?”
In a brief, panicked moment, Artemis wondered how anyone could have forgotten that the pellets were dehydrated.
She anxiously clutched her hands over her stomach, gritting her teeth. “That’s the whole point of survival rations!”
One of Demeter’s cargo drones hovered beside her, almost curious.
“I am surprised you did not remember.” She said, using the cargo drone to project her voice. “Each pellet contains enough nutritional and caloric value to last the average person for 38 hours. When placed in water,” she continued, oblivious to Artemis having turned green in the face, “they expand to their full size, typically large enough to fill a pot, or large serving plate.”
Artemis, feeling very ill, tried to recount exactly how many pellets she’d ingested. Aava, meanwhile, was gripping her stomach’s massive love handles as though she were afraid it would pop. Thankfully their guts gave no more than an unhappy grumble.
It took a moment for Artemis to work up the moisture in her mouth, asking, “W-what do we do now?”
Demeter’s voice was emotionless, as always. It was a striking contrast to the panic rising in Artemis.
“By my calculations you have not eaten enough to risk physical harm to your body, Artemis. And Aava—” A beady red eye fixed on the nervous looking rabbit. “Your internal augmentations should keep you in one piece.”
Aava gave a relieved squeak and Artemis blinked.
“Augmentations?”
- - -
Artemis stood in the galley, staring down a glass of water. She knew she must not drink it, and she questioned why she poured it for herself in the first place. Every part of her being was focused on the battle of will. She had to resist the urge to give in, to quench her thirst and bathe her parched throat in the liquids it so desperately needed.
Slosh.
Aava, had not been so fortunate.
The rabbit had eaten more dehydrated pellets than Artemis and had almost immediately given in to the thirst that had been generated. Artemis had run behind her, as the blubbery rabbit bounced and waddled her way up to the galley before hooking herself under a tap and letting the water flow. She’d been given a first hand look at the spectacle that followed, seeing Aava literally blew up like a balloon in front of her.
First the rabbit’s smart-fabric suit began to creak and groan, then it began to stretch as her love handles swelled and grew. The rabbit’s entire stomach surged forward, smooshing into the cabinet in front of her and flowing out along its sides. In moments, she had to widen her stance just to accommodate its size. One hand was clenched on the countertop, as though the weight of her own mass were becoming hard to bear, but still she drank and the only sounds that escaped her mouth were pleasured groans. Artemis couldn’t blame her for that. Even as the wolf watched, she would have given anything to trade places with Aava. To feel the sweet flow of water against her cracked and parched mouth.
In minutes, the rabbit’s stomach was beginning to drag her down. Her back was arched, pulled down by the gravid, sloshing bloat of her own stomach, beautifully rendered in the skin-tight flightsuit she was wearing. Her feet shimmied her stance wider, and wider, until with a plop, the massive, food stuffed orb came to a rest on the floor. As though sensing that this was enough, Aava pulled away from the tap with a gasp, before sliding down and settling on her ass. Her gut pushed her legs far apart, and rose above her, compressed as it was between her and the bench in front of her, but Aava didn’t care. With a smile, more content than Artemis had ever seen her, the rabbit lay back and passed out with the hill of her gut wobbling above her.
It was there, Aava had remained, a loudly gurgling reminder of what should befall Artemis if she gave in to temptation. Not that she would get that big, the wolf reasoned as she crossed her legs and uncrossed them, sitting on a metal stool and returning her gaze to her glass of water. She hadn’t eaten as many of the pellets as Aava, she was certain of that. The question that haunted her mind was whether or not she could she risk a sip of water.
Everything came down to that. Artemis’ gaze was fixed on the transparent, cool, perspiration-speckled glass of water sitting in front of her. Just one sip- surely it couldn’t hurt. She’d been battling with the prospect for what felt like hours - Demeter had been very clear on the subject. Calories were calories, but if she didn’t want to balloon like Aava, she had to avoid drinking water for the next six hours and, if Artemis was half a captain, this shouldn’t be an issue.
But it was.
Just a sip. It couldn’t possibly make a difference. As Artemis picked up the glass, her fingers clasping around its chilled surface, she knew she’d made the right call. There was no possible way she could have survived six hours without hydration, surely. The water on her lips was heaven as it washed over her tongue and mouth in a cool wave that seemed to alleviate all the pain, all the thirst she’d experienced. Before she knew it, the water was gone. The whole glass had been drained and, worse still, her mouth still felt sore, cracked and parched.
Maybe she’d just have one more glass.
Sidestepping Aava’s bloated, wobbling stomach, Artemis made her way to the tap and grabbed a pitcher. To save her the return trip, she reasoned. It was barely ten seconds later that she was holding the pitcher up to her mouth, chugging as much water as she could whilst the rest trickled down her shirt and into the fluff of her stomach. She refilled the pitcher again, and again, and, neither seeing it nor caring beyond the bliss of her relieved thirst, the wolf grew.
Her paunch, a stomach that had bloomed past being able to be called a pot belly, began to bulge. It was subtle at first, since there wasn’t as much of it to work with as there had been inside Aava, but with a slow certainty her shirt began to rise. It wasn’t made of smart-fabric, it clung to her body, constricting her as her gut pushed out until it looked like she was past term with twins, then triplets, a stomach so big that she had to lean backwards just to keep from falling over.
As she downed her fifth and final pitcher, Artemis noted two things.
The first was that she was sated, letting the pitcher tumble from her grasp to bounce and roll harmlessly across the floor. The second, was that she was huge. And still growing. She was inflating like a balloon, only instead of air it felt as though she were pumped full of lead. Instantly, she found herself cradling her stomach with both hands, legs bowed beneath its weight. As it expanded and fluff began to push through her spread fingers, she fell to her knees. Her gut hit the ground with a loud slap and after a pained moan, a belch was forced out of the wolf’s mouth, before she slumped over to one side.
She lay there, cradling her stomach for some time before she realised it had stopped its growth, looking as though she’d gone and eaten the contents of an entire fridge. She felt like it, too. Hiccuping and groaning, Artemis would have probably passed out then and there, were it not for Demeter’s ping.
“Artemis,” said the AI without an ounce of empathy for the wolf’s situation, “Alexandra has just had an interesting communication from Amanita Beta. She would like you to review the logs as soon as possible.”
Artemis just groaned.
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Voting Options
In the next chapter, Artemis will: https://strawpoll.com/ccgydw56
A, accept Julius’ proposal, seeking contact with the wolf on Amanita Beta and a deeper understanding of the dangerous cargo.
B, risk making contact with the Wayfarer corporation for more information, attempting to prepare for the inherent dangers in communicating with a hostile corporation.
C, perform her own, in depth investigation of the colony, wary the possible time sensitivity of her cargo.
Fetish Options: https://strawpoll.com/fbgs3z39
Performing a primary part of the investigation or communication will be:
A, Artemis, wary of traversing a new colony and embarrassed about her recent gain (weight gain, embarrassment)
B, Aava, although relatively unabashed, she’s still heavily bloated from her recent meal (weight gain, weight gain related difficulties)
C, Alexandra, who has prepared for the day by making a list of foods she’d like to try (weight gain)
REMEMBER TO COMMENT BELOW WITH YOUR WEIGHTED VOTES
Comments
Alex Kay
Weighted votes A and A.
Firefox
Plot vote: A Kink vote: GIMMIE THE FUKKEN :B:
Jori En
A for non fetish and C for fetish
Will Stewart
I'll go with B
Maylow
Going A and B!
Cecil Kane
A-C for my weight
Tach0012
Gonna do C-C this time. :)
Visha Oakwood
1 A 2 B. For my votes
