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Artemis' Bow C1P5 - Choose Your Own Adventure
Foreword
FAQ and Rules
Alexandra had just risen from the bathtub, water cascading off of her bloated stomach, when the door to the bathroom opened. A brief moment of panic washed over her; she wasn’t sure she could stand to face the crew in her current state. The moment passed, though, as Demeter’s drones hovered in, carrying between them a selection of pitchers.
“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Alex asked, grabbing her towel. “How about privacy?” She draped it across her gravid form and scowled.
The sight of just how big she’d grown brought a blush to her cheeks. Her stomach had puffed up below her breasts, hefting them up to a small degree, round and taut with the colossal meal on which she’d gorged.
One of the drones paused, its camera-lens of an eye fixing on the dragoness for a moment.
“My programming defines privacy as a state in which you are unobserved by other people,” it said, with Demeter’s voice, placing its pitchers on the driest spots beside the bathtub. “In my company, your privacy is absolute.”
Alex rolled her eyes. It would have been wrong to expect any other kind of answer from the AI. Instead of pushing the subject, she turned her attention to the various pitchers, jugs, and frosted glasses that now decorated her bathroom like scented candles. There were milkshakes, sundaes, ice cream floats and other, more creamy looking treats that delighted the dragoness’ senses, their sweet flavours dancing across the tip of her nose. She licked her lips and reached out to grab one, but the dripping of water on the wet, tiled floor caught her attention.
“I’m hardly going to drink all of that in here,” Alex said. “How about you start bringing those into my bunk room and we’ll see how I go.”
She began the long process of drying herself down- a chore made more difficult by her swaths of lush fur. The task was further complicated by the constant jostling and sloshing of her stomach. The sheer weight of it had already begun to drag down on her back. She felt a little bit of a thrill rising up her spine as she pondered how it must feel to be pregnant. Through the cool fibers of her towel, she caressed the bulge of her stomach, rubbing and jostling it with her hands and growling with happiness when it slapped against her thighs.
Demeter’s voice broke Alexandra from her thoughts. “Do you require assistance?” the AI asked.
The dragoness hadn’t even seen the drone return, the other awaiting her patiently in her cabin. Her cheeks flushed.
Alex cleared her throat, “Uh... no, it’s okay.”
A couple of minutes and one frustratingly difficult struggle with a crop top and pair of shorts later, Alex was wobbling her way out of the bathroom and into her cabin proper. The cabin itself was a testament to everything Alexandra held dear. Rifles and pistols hung neatly from supports on the walls, complimented by ammunition and ordinance. Alex fancied herself a collector of the finer things, and had in her possession one of the more lethal plasma-spitters, as well as a particularly expensive bounty hunter’s rifle which she had taken in her youth as a trophy.
Unlike many collectors, however, Alex liked to play with her toys.
The weaponry shared spaces with cookbooks;r purchased, found, stolen, or written by Alexandra herself. There were dozens upon dozens of colonized worlds, not to mention spaceports and mining stations, each with their own populations, cultures, ingredients, and cuisines. Mushrooms, algae, protein and vitamin slurry were the most common and liberally used ingredients, but the methods of preparation varied so dramatically that the final products made it difficult to tell. Very rarely did Alexandra leave a port without another new recipe or ten.
Unlike Aava, pictures and posters found no space on Alexandra’s walls. Compared to her crewmates, her room was strikingly utilitarian, though the buffet’s worth of refreshments were something of a break from that.. Hands on her hips, Alex surveyed the various shakes and sundaes, a smile draping across her snout.
“Alright Demeter,” She said as she began to make herself comfortable. She lowered herself back down in her bunk and propped herself up with her pillows and blanket. “Let’s see what we can do..”
The first, frosty cool glass, that reached her lips was a milkshake, although the term milkshake did little justice to the sheer amount of ice cream that had been blended into the beverage. Swallowing the cool slurry was what Alex imagined swallowing mud might feel like. It certainly didn’t taste like mud. Initially, a hint of strawberry had met her nose when Demeter’s drone passed her the glass, but as the slurry hit her tongue, the dragoness was delighted to find herself drinking a white chocolate flavoured milkshake, with subtle berry aftertones.
Demeter had somehow managed to work the fabricators to make ice cream out of chocolate! Making a mental note to replicate this little trick later on, Alex tilted the glass back and chugged, savouring each gulp just long enough to make herself eagerly anticipate the next. The milkshake was followed by a sundae, although Alex went without a spoon, instead gulping down what she could, and gently biting what she couldn’t. Once again, the flavours involved were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Sweet candy had been turned into crispy, cool ice cream confection.
Alexandra lost herself in a daze of overwhelming pleasure, tilting back one glass after the next, neither noticing nor particularly caring for the ever growing, gravid bulge of her stomach. Like a water balloon, her gut swelled, glorping and bloating out inches every time she swallowed another glass’s worth, wobbling as she reached for the next. It sloshed loudly, pushing her legs apart as she sat on the bed, denting the mattress under its sheer weight. Her sheer weight. She’d have been giddy, if she hadn’t been so lost to sensation.
It all happened so fast.
From the first glass she’d raised to her mouth. to the immensely gravid state she found herself in, her dreamlike foray into a world of culinary delights felt as though it had lasted mere seconds. It had in fact been almost ten minutes. Ten minutes of constantly guzzling drinks, pouring more and more lard, sugar, and sweetness down her gullet and thoroughly stretching her balloon of a stomach.
Alex felt a groan trickle from her mouth. One of her hands moved instinctively to touch the scales of her gut and feel where they’d stretched oh so magnificently. She felt enormous and magnificent, but somehow not yet satisfied. It still wasn’t enough. .
The longing persisted. The wanting, the needing, to be filled even further.
She thought about stopping, believing that to be the smart thing to do, but when Demeter’s robotic drone passed her the next drink, she swallowed it without hesitation.
- - -
Artemis sat in the cockpit, rubbing the bags beneath her eyes and tiredly contemplating what she ought to do in response to this new interruption to her night. The Jackal was whining softly. Like an animal, she’d sensed the presence of a possible predator, and her pilot’s console was beeping in a manner somehow both unobtrusive and yet alarming. The initial shock hadn’t entirely worn off, but Artemis found herself idly dwelling on the exhaustion that nagged at her senses. She had been looking forward to her bunk ever since returning from the salvage mission, which at this point had been several hours ago. Her detour to the cockpit was only meant to take a couple of minutes at most.
After tugging at the relevant holographic displays and holding a quick conference with Demeter, she could safely figure that whilst the other ship was on a rough intercept with the Jackal, it likely hadn’t spotted them yet. The Jackal was small, after all, and despite her age she was sleek where it counted and didn’t give off much in the way of emissions. The longer Demeter pinged for details, the more Artemis couldn’t say the same for the other ship. It was big, nearly one and a half times the size of the Jackal, and initial scans indicated it might be well armed. Artemis couldn’t blame them, she knew it paid to be prepared out that far in Rim space.
Another tone sounded gently throughout the cockpit, this one indicated that the other ship’s radar had finally picked them up.
Demeter’s voice chimed in, cutting through Artemis’ thoughts. “We’re being scanned.”
If Artemis had any intention of cutting the engines and going dark, the opportunity had officially passed. Artemis was optimistic though, as she leaned forward and flicked the switches to open the comms. She couldn’t imagine anything pirates might find so far out in the void, which meant it was more likely that the other ship was colony owned, either inbound or outbound.
She intended to find out.
“This is Artemis Wilkins of the registered ITV Jackal.” She started, pulling a microphone from where it sat on the console to her mouth. “We’re a ways away from home and looking to refuel, may I ask what port you’re flying from?”
For a couple of minutes, Artemis’ only answer was static. She used this time to do a more detailed scan of the approaching vessel.
Demeter began compiling any information that she could gather. From heat signatures to more thorough, light and radiation based scans, a detailed view of the other vessel was swiftly constructed and presented to the wolf. Her first impressions were that as well as being relatively larger than the Jackal, this other ship was also more expensive. Quite a bit more expensive, in fact. The vessel bore a Wayfinder logo, belonging to one of the dominant colonisation and FTL corporations of the Empire. It was sleek, composed of smooth, white metal paneling which set it well apart from the faded, blocky greys and blues of the Jackal. It was a short range hauler, its engines not suited to the rigors of long, deep space travel, which meant it almost definitely came from a station, planet, or port nearby.
Artemis’ heart sank.
As its arsenal was displayed, piece by piece, she saw that the other ship was equipped with a series of harpoon cannons; typically the weapon of choice for pirates who sought to keep the other ship intact whilst ensuring it could be brought close and boarded. It was also sporting a set of plasma turrets that were most certainly not standard to Wayfarer vessels, of any kind. The only likely answer was that it had been stolen and refitted by pirates, which would likely be a death sentence. There was no way that the Jackal could stand against a ship like that.
“This is Wayfarer Vessel, Short Range Explorer Class 2F.” The comms console growled and crackled with static. “Our base ship ain’t too far away, happy to share so navlocks if you’re needing to refuel.”
Relief flooded Artemis. All at once, she felt how tense she had been in the moments leading up to that response. She could feel the breath gently flowing back into her body, hear the pounding of her heart in her ears.
“That’d be appreciated,” she replied as soon as she was able to work the moisture back into her mouth to speak. “We’ve been flying for days and are a little thirsty.”
Artemis leaned back in the pilot’s chair, allowing herself to relax. All she could think about was how tired she felt. More tired than anyone ought to feel. She also very much felt that she deserved a long, hot bath and a good long sleep.
“Sure, sure.” The voice replied. It sounded vaguely feminine, but it was hard to gauge over unsecured comms. “Listen, you wouldn’t have happened to pass an Orca-class not long ago, would you? We lost some friends out here a while back and we’d be grateful if you could point us in the right direction.”
“Oh,” Artemis blinked, holding the microphone up to her mouth. “Well we passed by a derelict—” She glanced at her logs, “About 26K back the way we came, but if you’re looking for friends I’m afraid she launched all her lifeboats days ago.”
Silence was Artemis’ only reply. The Wayfarer vessel was now close enough that she could make out its cockpit, the lights that shone gently behind its sleek glass canopy. A lump began to form in her throat as she saw the vessel adjust its course, turning towards the Jackal.
With what almost sounded like urgency, Demeter reported, “They’re powering their weapons.”
For a moment, time froze. Artemis could make out each individual speck of dust floating in the light of the cockpit, dancing to the backdrop of galaxies beyond. Everything turned red and the sound of alarms, like screeching birds in the wolf’s ears, threatened to drown out all thought. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her chest.
The only warning she and Demeter received were two bursts of light, as the approaching starship fired its harpoon cannons. Artemis heard a loud thunk, followed by another as both harpoons hit their mark, piercing the Jackal’s comparatively fragile hull.
If one had hit the glass of the cockpit, she’d almost certainly have been killed.
Gritting her teeth and hissing, Artemis lurched forward, hands wrapping around the controls for the Jackal’s maneuvering jets and twisting them. In moments the Jackal was pulling sideways, tugging against the harpoons imbedded in her side, but they did not break. Artemis found herself thinking this must be what it feels like, to be caught by a spider. Targeting display panels lit up as Demeter highlighted targets of opportunity and diverted power to the weapons, but Artemis knew it was too late. They were too close - the other vessel was a looming shadow that bore down on the Jackal, pulling her in to be boarded.
The comms board lit up, two voices reaching her simultaneously.
“Captain, what’s going on?!” Alex’s voice held a note of panic Artemis rarely heard from the usually composed dragon.
“Are we taking fire?” Aava asked, sounding as though she’d just woken up.
Glancing back to her displays, Artemis made a note of where the Jackal would most likely be breeched. Now wasn’t the time for further hesitation. She grabbed a pistol from where it hung nearby, snatched the comms unit, and leapt out of her chair.
!!!VOTING OPTIONS!!! - Visit this link to cast your vote: https://strawpoll.com/d1d2fcd
Patreons may register their votes on the submission on My Patreon or else comment here, or contact me directly, for their weighted vote benefits.
A: Artemis orders Demeter to attempt to hack into the other vessel. (Unwilling Enemy Stuffing/Incapacitation) - SELECTED
B: Artemis orders Alex to accompany her to the first breech, sending Aava to barricade the second with the help of Demeter. (Sloshy Dragon + Action)
C: Artemis orders Aava to accompany her to the first breech, sending Alex to deal with the second. (Soft Vore + Action)
FAQ and Rules
--==PLEASE CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME VIA PATREON TO CONTINUE TO PRODUCE CONTENT LIKE THIS <3==--
My Patreon
Set in the Maple's Story Universe this is the first chapter of the new CYOA (choose your own adventure) series that I'm going to be working on! To participate read the description below and follow the links to vote! Further information above, and as always, comment with questions if you have them. This story has been edited by the wonderful 
FireFox without whom the quality of my work would be a LOT worse.
The character Alex is property of 
kyofoxe94 and the character Aava is property of 
Mallow. These two have been my highest tier patrons for a significant amount of time, and without their help this project would not have been possible. Thank you <3
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Voting will be closed within 48 hours of this submission going live.
Subscribe to My Patreon for additional benefits and control over the plot.
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Alexandra had just risen from the bathtub, water cascading off of her bloated stomach, when the door to the bathroom opened. A brief moment of panic washed over her; she wasn’t sure she could stand to face the crew in her current state. The moment passed, though, as Demeter’s drones hovered in, carrying between them a selection of pitchers.
“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Alex asked, grabbing her towel. “How about privacy?” She draped it across her gravid form and scowled.
The sight of just how big she’d grown brought a blush to her cheeks. Her stomach had puffed up below her breasts, hefting them up to a small degree, round and taut with the colossal meal on which she’d gorged.
One of the drones paused, its camera-lens of an eye fixing on the dragoness for a moment.
“My programming defines privacy as a state in which you are unobserved by other people,” it said, with Demeter’s voice, placing its pitchers on the driest spots beside the bathtub. “In my company, your privacy is absolute.”
Alex rolled her eyes. It would have been wrong to expect any other kind of answer from the AI. Instead of pushing the subject, she turned her attention to the various pitchers, jugs, and frosted glasses that now decorated her bathroom like scented candles. There were milkshakes, sundaes, ice cream floats and other, more creamy looking treats that delighted the dragoness’ senses, their sweet flavours dancing across the tip of her nose. She licked her lips and reached out to grab one, but the dripping of water on the wet, tiled floor caught her attention.
“I’m hardly going to drink all of that in here,” Alex said. “How about you start bringing those into my bunk room and we’ll see how I go.”
She began the long process of drying herself down- a chore made more difficult by her swaths of lush fur. The task was further complicated by the constant jostling and sloshing of her stomach. The sheer weight of it had already begun to drag down on her back. She felt a little bit of a thrill rising up her spine as she pondered how it must feel to be pregnant. Through the cool fibers of her towel, she caressed the bulge of her stomach, rubbing and jostling it with her hands and growling with happiness when it slapped against her thighs.
Demeter’s voice broke Alexandra from her thoughts. “Do you require assistance?” the AI asked.
The dragoness hadn’t even seen the drone return, the other awaiting her patiently in her cabin. Her cheeks flushed.
Alex cleared her throat, “Uh... no, it’s okay.”
A couple of minutes and one frustratingly difficult struggle with a crop top and pair of shorts later, Alex was wobbling her way out of the bathroom and into her cabin proper. The cabin itself was a testament to everything Alexandra held dear. Rifles and pistols hung neatly from supports on the walls, complimented by ammunition and ordinance. Alex fancied herself a collector of the finer things, and had in her possession one of the more lethal plasma-spitters, as well as a particularly expensive bounty hunter’s rifle which she had taken in her youth as a trophy.
Unlike many collectors, however, Alex liked to play with her toys.
The weaponry shared spaces with cookbooks;r purchased, found, stolen, or written by Alexandra herself. There were dozens upon dozens of colonized worlds, not to mention spaceports and mining stations, each with their own populations, cultures, ingredients, and cuisines. Mushrooms, algae, protein and vitamin slurry were the most common and liberally used ingredients, but the methods of preparation varied so dramatically that the final products made it difficult to tell. Very rarely did Alexandra leave a port without another new recipe or ten.
Unlike Aava, pictures and posters found no space on Alexandra’s walls. Compared to her crewmates, her room was strikingly utilitarian, though the buffet’s worth of refreshments were something of a break from that.. Hands on her hips, Alex surveyed the various shakes and sundaes, a smile draping across her snout.
“Alright Demeter,” She said as she began to make herself comfortable. She lowered herself back down in her bunk and propped herself up with her pillows and blanket. “Let’s see what we can do..”
The first, frosty cool glass, that reached her lips was a milkshake, although the term milkshake did little justice to the sheer amount of ice cream that had been blended into the beverage. Swallowing the cool slurry was what Alex imagined swallowing mud might feel like. It certainly didn’t taste like mud. Initially, a hint of strawberry had met her nose when Demeter’s drone passed her the glass, but as the slurry hit her tongue, the dragoness was delighted to find herself drinking a white chocolate flavoured milkshake, with subtle berry aftertones.
Demeter had somehow managed to work the fabricators to make ice cream out of chocolate! Making a mental note to replicate this little trick later on, Alex tilted the glass back and chugged, savouring each gulp just long enough to make herself eagerly anticipate the next. The milkshake was followed by a sundae, although Alex went without a spoon, instead gulping down what she could, and gently biting what she couldn’t. Once again, the flavours involved were unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Sweet candy had been turned into crispy, cool ice cream confection.
Alexandra lost herself in a daze of overwhelming pleasure, tilting back one glass after the next, neither noticing nor particularly caring for the ever growing, gravid bulge of her stomach. Like a water balloon, her gut swelled, glorping and bloating out inches every time she swallowed another glass’s worth, wobbling as she reached for the next. It sloshed loudly, pushing her legs apart as she sat on the bed, denting the mattress under its sheer weight. Her sheer weight. She’d have been giddy, if she hadn’t been so lost to sensation.
It all happened so fast.
From the first glass she’d raised to her mouth. to the immensely gravid state she found herself in, her dreamlike foray into a world of culinary delights felt as though it had lasted mere seconds. It had in fact been almost ten minutes. Ten minutes of constantly guzzling drinks, pouring more and more lard, sugar, and sweetness down her gullet and thoroughly stretching her balloon of a stomach.
Alex felt a groan trickle from her mouth. One of her hands moved instinctively to touch the scales of her gut and feel where they’d stretched oh so magnificently. She felt enormous and magnificent, but somehow not yet satisfied. It still wasn’t enough. .
The longing persisted. The wanting, the needing, to be filled even further.
She thought about stopping, believing that to be the smart thing to do, but when Demeter’s robotic drone passed her the next drink, she swallowed it without hesitation.
- - -
Artemis sat in the cockpit, rubbing the bags beneath her eyes and tiredly contemplating what she ought to do in response to this new interruption to her night. The Jackal was whining softly. Like an animal, she’d sensed the presence of a possible predator, and her pilot’s console was beeping in a manner somehow both unobtrusive and yet alarming. The initial shock hadn’t entirely worn off, but Artemis found herself idly dwelling on the exhaustion that nagged at her senses. She had been looking forward to her bunk ever since returning from the salvage mission, which at this point had been several hours ago. Her detour to the cockpit was only meant to take a couple of minutes at most.
After tugging at the relevant holographic displays and holding a quick conference with Demeter, she could safely figure that whilst the other ship was on a rough intercept with the Jackal, it likely hadn’t spotted them yet. The Jackal was small, after all, and despite her age she was sleek where it counted and didn’t give off much in the way of emissions. The longer Demeter pinged for details, the more Artemis couldn’t say the same for the other ship. It was big, nearly one and a half times the size of the Jackal, and initial scans indicated it might be well armed. Artemis couldn’t blame them, she knew it paid to be prepared out that far in Rim space.
Another tone sounded gently throughout the cockpit, this one indicated that the other ship’s radar had finally picked them up.
Demeter’s voice chimed in, cutting through Artemis’ thoughts. “We’re being scanned.”
If Artemis had any intention of cutting the engines and going dark, the opportunity had officially passed. Artemis was optimistic though, as she leaned forward and flicked the switches to open the comms. She couldn’t imagine anything pirates might find so far out in the void, which meant it was more likely that the other ship was colony owned, either inbound or outbound.
She intended to find out.
“This is Artemis Wilkins of the registered ITV Jackal.” She started, pulling a microphone from where it sat on the console to her mouth. “We’re a ways away from home and looking to refuel, may I ask what port you’re flying from?”
For a couple of minutes, Artemis’ only answer was static. She used this time to do a more detailed scan of the approaching vessel.
Demeter began compiling any information that she could gather. From heat signatures to more thorough, light and radiation based scans, a detailed view of the other vessel was swiftly constructed and presented to the wolf. Her first impressions were that as well as being relatively larger than the Jackal, this other ship was also more expensive. Quite a bit more expensive, in fact. The vessel bore a Wayfinder logo, belonging to one of the dominant colonisation and FTL corporations of the Empire. It was sleek, composed of smooth, white metal paneling which set it well apart from the faded, blocky greys and blues of the Jackal. It was a short range hauler, its engines not suited to the rigors of long, deep space travel, which meant it almost definitely came from a station, planet, or port nearby.
Artemis’ heart sank.
As its arsenal was displayed, piece by piece, she saw that the other ship was equipped with a series of harpoon cannons; typically the weapon of choice for pirates who sought to keep the other ship intact whilst ensuring it could be brought close and boarded. It was also sporting a set of plasma turrets that were most certainly not standard to Wayfarer vessels, of any kind. The only likely answer was that it had been stolen and refitted by pirates, which would likely be a death sentence. There was no way that the Jackal could stand against a ship like that.
“This is Wayfarer Vessel, Short Range Explorer Class 2F.” The comms console growled and crackled with static. “Our base ship ain’t too far away, happy to share so navlocks if you’re needing to refuel.”
Relief flooded Artemis. All at once, she felt how tense she had been in the moments leading up to that response. She could feel the breath gently flowing back into her body, hear the pounding of her heart in her ears.
“That’d be appreciated,” she replied as soon as she was able to work the moisture back into her mouth to speak. “We’ve been flying for days and are a little thirsty.”
Artemis leaned back in the pilot’s chair, allowing herself to relax. All she could think about was how tired she felt. More tired than anyone ought to feel. She also very much felt that she deserved a long, hot bath and a good long sleep.
“Sure, sure.” The voice replied. It sounded vaguely feminine, but it was hard to gauge over unsecured comms. “Listen, you wouldn’t have happened to pass an Orca-class not long ago, would you? We lost some friends out here a while back and we’d be grateful if you could point us in the right direction.”
“Oh,” Artemis blinked, holding the microphone up to her mouth. “Well we passed by a derelict—” She glanced at her logs, “About 26K back the way we came, but if you’re looking for friends I’m afraid she launched all her lifeboats days ago.”
Silence was Artemis’ only reply. The Wayfarer vessel was now close enough that she could make out its cockpit, the lights that shone gently behind its sleek glass canopy. A lump began to form in her throat as she saw the vessel adjust its course, turning towards the Jackal.
With what almost sounded like urgency, Demeter reported, “They’re powering their weapons.”
For a moment, time froze. Artemis could make out each individual speck of dust floating in the light of the cockpit, dancing to the backdrop of galaxies beyond. Everything turned red and the sound of alarms, like screeching birds in the wolf’s ears, threatened to drown out all thought. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her chest.
The only warning she and Demeter received were two bursts of light, as the approaching starship fired its harpoon cannons. Artemis heard a loud thunk, followed by another as both harpoons hit their mark, piercing the Jackal’s comparatively fragile hull.
If one had hit the glass of the cockpit, she’d almost certainly have been killed.
Gritting her teeth and hissing, Artemis lurched forward, hands wrapping around the controls for the Jackal’s maneuvering jets and twisting them. In moments the Jackal was pulling sideways, tugging against the harpoons imbedded in her side, but they did not break. Artemis found herself thinking this must be what it feels like, to be caught by a spider. Targeting display panels lit up as Demeter highlighted targets of opportunity and diverted power to the weapons, but Artemis knew it was too late. They were too close - the other vessel was a looming shadow that bore down on the Jackal, pulling her in to be boarded.
The comms board lit up, two voices reaching her simultaneously.
“Captain, what’s going on?!” Alex’s voice held a note of panic Artemis rarely heard from the usually composed dragon.
“Are we taking fire?” Aava asked, sounding as though she’d just woken up.
Glancing back to her displays, Artemis made a note of where the Jackal would most likely be breeched. Now wasn’t the time for further hesitation. She grabbed a pistol from where it hung nearby, snatched the comms unit, and leapt out of her chair.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬!!!VOTING OPTIONS!!! - Visit this link to cast your vote: https://strawpoll.com/d1d2fcd
Patreons may register their votes on the submission on My Patreon or else comment here, or contact me directly, for their weighted vote benefits.
A: Artemis orders Demeter to attempt to hack into the other vessel. (Unwilling Enemy Stuffing/Incapacitation) - SELECTED
B: Artemis orders Alex to accompany her to the first breech, sending Aava to barricade the second with the help of Demeter. (Sloshy Dragon + Action)
C: Artemis orders Aava to accompany her to the first breech, sending Alex to deal with the second. (Soft Vore + Action)
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fat Furs
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1200 x 1200px
File Size 574.7 kB
Comments