Fallout Equestria: Boundless

Being a freelancer has its perks. There's ups and downs, but unless things are particularly desperate you get to choose your own work. This lets you avoid the most dangerous elements of wasteland life. So when a letter slides under your door, offering a four-digit sum of caps to attend to an important mare who's gone and gotten herself hurt, you can afford to be skeptical. The letter requests absolute secrecy - you're to travel to a long-ruined power station alone and not visibly armed, patch up the poor girl, then receive your money and leave. There's a lot of unknowns, but the reward is tempting enough to overpower your caution. And so you make the trip, carrying only the bare nescessities, and find yourself meandering through old, musty corridors in search of your mystery employer. Scattered signs of habitation lead you to a heavy-looking door, slightly ajar. A flickering light from within ushers you to peek inside.

You're not sure exactly what you were expecting. Crammed into what used to be an equipment storeroom is what you could only describe as a bizarre hybrid between a bedroom and a nest. Colourful squares and rolls of cloth and leather are stacked high on every available surface, including an old workbench that just about has enough room to hold a sewing machine and a desk lamp. The floor is coated with pillows, cushions and the occasional blanket of all makes, materials and qualities, radiating from a larger heap in the center. It's homely and comfortable-looking, if a little strange.

"Welcome. My sisters were accomodating, I hope?"

The mare's voice snaps you out of your momentary reverie and turns your attention to her - and she's quite the surprise as well. Nestled deeply in the middle of her extensive collection of textiles and padding is an alicorn, her head tilted in a mixture of bemusement and concern. She's also green, and vividly so. The sort of green you'd expect to see in picture books about woodlands and forests. Her mane is the same but darker, draping down across her shoulders in a pair of long ponytails. Even laying down, her raised head is just above your normal eye level, tipped with a fearsomely long horn. You stammer apologies and an excuse, and ask how you can help, fighting trepidation. All you were told was that someone very important is in need of medical attention and willing to pay handsomely. You're more used to patching up NCR goons and the pegasus refugees that have been falling out of the sky for the past few months. Giant mutant mares nesting in small seas of scavenged fabric aren't exactly your specialist subject.

The alicorn shifts her weight a little and hisses softly through her teeth. "...My name is Boundless," she begins, uncomfortable. "Two days ago I slipped and injured my leg, and it isn't healing as it should."

You nod and approach, asking her to show you. She motions over her shoulder, towards her hindquarters, and shifts her hindleg free of her bed/nest/heap with a little wince of pain. Up close, you make two important observations. First is that she's dressed, despite being several times larger than the average mare. She's not simply covered in cloth, but robed in a long, flowing coat that she presumably patched together from smaller garments. Second is that while the loose cloth obscures much of her form, there's no hiding the shape and size of her abdomen now that you can distinguish it clearly. She's pregnant, and quite prominently so. You blink, but remember yourself and turn your attention to her leg; graceful and slender, it's almost as long from hip to hoof as you are from head to tail. There's a long, nasty-looking gash just above her fetlock, crudely bandaged with some patchy linen that's almost soaked through with blood.

"I slipped on an embankment," Boundless explains with strained patience, "and caught it on some loose stones." Her face pales a little as you explain that you'll need to remove the makeshift bandage for a proper look, but she nods her approval. You sidle up to her as close as you dare and begin your work - for the most part she's a good patient, keeping herself still despite clear discomfort, and before long the two of you engage in some small talk. Just trivial things to keep her mind off her leg - the weather, her unusual yet comfortable home, that sort of thing. Her chest rises and falls steadily as she takes deep breaths, and as you finish tying a new bandage - this one dampened with healing potion to speed things up - she seems to have warmed up to you. She's smiling, at least.

"Thank you, hon. Normally we regenerate quite quickly, but... well." Boundless blushes faintly and averts her eyes. Confused, you enquire further. "No doubt you've noticed my other, ah, condition." She motions to her belly, squirming gently to make herself comfortable. "Our kind are fuelled by loose magic. Radiation. As you can see, I'm not just eating rads for on-" She cringes suddenly, moaning lowly through her teeth, but collects herself and continues, waving off your concern. "One. I'm sorry. Kicking. It's fine."

With her leg likely on the mend, you could ask her for your payment and go, but she's been agreeable thus far. More than that - she piques your curiosity - professional, and perhaps otherwise. You decide to take a risk and sit down by her side, and ask her how she got into this state. As far as you knew, mutants couldn't get pregnant in the first place. Boundless simply giggles at that. "Don't be silly, hon. The same way anyone does, plus a bit of cleverness." She says that last sentence in a happy, almost singsong tone, rolling slowly onto her side to rest. The giant nest of fabric begins to make more sense. Now that her tummy's not half-buried beneath her, you can begin to appreciate just how big she is. Her abdomen rises from the nest in a broad, convex curve, snugly bound by her jury-rigged attire. The fabric's struggling a little, judging by the stretch lines, but it's doing its job in covering her up.

Her gravid state would be unmistakable were she standing - the barrel-shaped swell hanging low and probably bulging out some way to her sides. It's lucky that her body's easily three to four times the size of the average mare's. This pregnancy would be obscenely, dangerously large on a normal pony's frame. You think for a few seconds - a little extrapolation leads you to guess that she's nearing her term. No more than a month or so away if the foal is particularly big. Or if there's more than one. Your mind begins to wander...

"Is something the matter?"

With a start, you catch yourself staring, then realise that, more accurately, she caught you. You shake your head frantically - you don't want to offend her. You've heard the stories about alicorns before. Piss her off and she could crush your heart with her magic, fry you to death with lightning; hell, she could probably crush you to death if she wanted. But she doesn't look upset - in fact, a warm, even playful smile slowly creeps across her face. She curls her forelegs against her chest and flutters her eyelashes, her tone of voice lowering ever so slightly. "You know, I don't think I've ever had a proper examination from a doctor before."

A cold sweat starts to bead on the back of your neck. She's seriously suggesting-

The door slides open with a loud screeching of metal, derailing your train of thought and sending it over a cliff. Framed in the opening is a second alicorn mare, so purple she looks like a storm cloud incarnate, and so stern that for a moment you fear she might be about to flash her horn and break you in half. "Sister. I see the healer has completed his work."

Boundless stammers for a moment, then pouts and crosses her hooves, blushing (that is, turning an even deeper shade of green). "Auri! Knock, please!"

The stern alicorn looks down on you disdainfully. "It is time for him to leave."

Boundless gets to her hooves with a little grunt, disturbing the nest she'd made for herself. The pair of them tower over you like the mythical princesses of Old Equestria, so there aren't many options except to sit and look small and harmless in an attempt to not die. Boundless huffs. "I'm sorry. This is Auriga, one of my sisters. She's very rude sometimes."

Auriga's face remains stone cold, and she gestures dismissively in your direction, flaring her wings. "And you, Sister, are too trusting. Have you not taken enough of a risk, inviting a stranger into our home? You are vulnerable."

Boundless steps between you and Auriga, inadvertently putting you in her shadow. More accurately, the shadow of her waistline. With a tiny twinge of self-satisfaction, you note that your earlier guess was correct. She reminds you of a mare you once saw trying to smuggle a full-sized keg past an NCR checkpoint by strapping it to her underside, scaled up. She's also a little shaky on her injured leg, but the healing potion should be dulling the pain by now, you hope. "He's been nothing but friendly and professional, Auri. You know I can't stand it when you get all hardheaded like this."

Auriga's glare softens just a fraction towards a look of concern. "I do not wish to argue, Sister. Only to warn."

Boundless nods and steps forward, gathering her sister into an awkward one-legged hug. She needs the other three working overtime to stay upright. "I know, Auri. Just please lighten up, I can look after myself if I need to."

Auriga rolls her eyes, but returns the gesture, leaning forward to support her sister. "Also, you have not eaten for several hours. Please, pay the stallion and let him be on his way."

Boundless releases her sibling, lowering her head with a sigh. Thinking fast, if not very rationally, you speak up; both mares turn to you in surprise. Boundless, you point out, is in a vulnerable state, just as Auriga claims. And her wound is still at risk of opening back up, or worse, developing an infection (unlikely, since you used half a bottle of heal-everything magical bullshit potion, but you don't mention that part). Wouldn't it be best if you stuck around for a little while, just to make sure that everything progresses as it should?

Auriga barely seems to register you, but Boundless gives you a tiny smirk and looks back to her sister with wide eyes and a trembling bottom lip. "He's right, Auri. What if it just gets worse? What if it gets infected or swollen and stops me from walking?"

Auriga wrinkles her muzzle and shoots you a look, but backs up and turns away from the door, into the corridor. "Very well, Sister. Rest assured that Corona and I will be keeping a close watch on our guest. For now, it is time for dinner." Her horn flickers, and she vanishes in a purple flash. You and Boundless share a look, and then she snorts, stifling a giggle.

"See - you're a dedicated professional!" She ushers you towards the door with her wing, so you gather your things and follow her. "Come on, hon. Evening meal, on the house. You like canned hay, don't you?"

You're not the biggest fan of canned hay, but it's hard to say no to an offer of free food.

As Boundless leads you away from her room and towards the heart of the alicorns' refuge, you quickly recognise why such unusual mares might choose a derelict power station as their home. For one thing, it's an old wartime structure, which means overengineering to the extreme. The rooms and corridors, depressingly gray and square as they may be, have broad hallways and high ceilings, and the concrete outer walls are so thick that it'd probably take a tank to do any lasting damage. The spark generators that the place was made to support, once designed to distill raw magic into usable electricity, probably wouldn't be so robust. A major radiation hazard for most ponies - and a fountain of manna for those that can eat the stuff. You're glad you thought ahead and brought RadAway; you should be safe for a week or so. Probably.

"Did you not meet my sisters as you came in?" Boundless asks, adjusting her coat. "I hoped that they'd be a little more welcoming; Auri was probably watching you from the moment you arrived, but Corona loves meeting new people. I asked her to deliver my letter in secret, but still..." You shrug, pointing out that the other alicorns obviously value seclusion. Maybe they'd only reveal themselves if they knew whether or not you were a threat? You arrived alone and not visibly armed. "Perhaps," she muses. "Corona is very smart, but she's also easily distracted, bless her. I'm sure she'll show up eventually." You continue in silence, and the drab surroundings quickly set your eyes wandering.

Boundless is surprisingly well-dressed, all things considered. The hem of her patchwork coat spills over her hindquarters and affords her some modesty - probably for the best, since standing at her full height puts her backside about level with your head. Her other clothes, while obviously strained in doing so, cover her body comprehensively despite the distinctive bulk of her midsection. Her gait is heavy, but paced and methodical enough to afford her a little grace. The mass of her swollen middle shifts her center of gravity downwards and towards the back, putting a distinctive sway into the motion of her hips as the muscles shift and bunch to compensate on every step. It's fascinating to watch... purely out of curiosity, of course. Of course.

"Here we are, hon. Make yourself comfortable." You arrive at a break room, or at least what used to be one, and it looks like the alicorns tidied it up. The floor and furniture aren't covered in two centuries' worth of dust, for one thing, and several boxes and bags are neatly stacked in one corner. The walls are clean, if bare. A few utilitarian tables and seating cushions are scattered around, but the cushions have been collected into little piles - no doubt to accomodate the larger ponies. Auriga is waiting, sat ramrod-straight and staring at the pair of you. Boundless nudges you forward, so you take a seat, and the rotund mare eases herself down across from you. She carries herself well, but the long sigh of relief she lets out, taking the weight off her hooves, tells a story all its own. You express a little concern, but she waves you off. Auriga, meanwhile, fetches one of the bags in her magic and empties into onto the table. Cans of processed food, firmly sealed bottles of water (and one of some kind of colourful sludge that you don't even want to guess at), and a smaller bag containing faintly glowing gemstones.

Boundless smiles at your bemused look. "Go ahead, hon. Help yourself." Auriga takes the mystery bottle and downs a gulp of the colourful stuff. Boundless pops some of the gems into her mouth. You slide one of the cans to your end of the table - and what a surprise, it's 'Apple Magic' Brand Apple-Flavored Processed Hay (It's apple-licious! Start your day the apple way! Try our new Ripe 'n' Juicy Sparkle-Cola, now with APPLES!). You've never had the faintest clue as to why the ponies of Old Equestria seemed to have such a massive fetish for apples.

Boundless pats the upper curve of her tummy, grinning as her cheek bulges with gemstones. She's not chewing or swallowing, just sucking on them with the eagerness of a filly that has a candy shop all to herself. Strangely enough, it's Auriga that speaks up to explain. "We subsist mostly on sources of raw or loose magic. Gemstones contain a lot of it, and my sister is very hungry." Boundless nods and mumbles something in the affirmative.

Auriga is an intimidating mare. While Boundless is all soft, flowing edges and round shapes, Auriga's short, spiky mane and angular features make her look like she was born on an anvil. Like her sister she's well dressed, but in a rough and practical conglomeration of canvas and armored padding. All business; nothing flowing or flattering. She wipes her mouth and raises her bottle of goo. "Also, this would kill you." The purple mare's tone is just as stern and borderline hostile as before, but at least she's trying to be helpful. You think. Apparently done with you already, she downs another mighty swig of the stuff.

You thank her - tersely - for the warning, and decide to focus on your meal.

Dinner progresses without incident. Auriga sits ramrod straight, silent as a tomb, like she's locked in a permanent state of standing guard. Boundless, once she's done with her gems (which she discreetly spits out and disposes of, their glow gone), asks you about yourself. You open up with what you can, through to be honest there's not much to say. You grew up in a small settlement out east and make your living travelling, patching up ponies that get themselves hurt. Ever since the NCR showed up and splintered pretty much every major faction in the land a year or so back, not to mention blowing up the entire sky, there's been no shortage of wounded and plenty of shortage in general.

The alicorns share a look. Auriga grunts and scowls, and you start to wonder if you said something wrong. Boundless speaks up, quickly changing the subject. "Auri, why don't you go and look for Corona? It's strange of her to miss dinner."

Auriga's scowl doesn't budge. "And leave you alone with this stranger, Sister?"

Boundless nods. "I'm going to go back to my room and get some rest. Our new friend can join me, if he wishes. Surely if he wanted to harm us he would have done something by now."

"I do not trust him. I will not see you hurt."

"Do you trust me, Auri?"

The purple mare rises to her hooves, eyes wide. "Sister!"

Boundless smiles placatingly. "I trust him. He has been nothing but polite, and my leg is feeling better already. Please, Auri - go find Corona. Maybe she's found a stash of old books. You know how she can be sometimes."

Auriga raises a hoof and opens her mouth, wings bristling at her sides. You're a half-second away from ducking for cover, but she gradually calms down and controls herself. "...Very well, Sister," she mutters, "I trust you, and I trust your judgment." She takes a slow breath turns her glare on you instead. "Hurt her, and I will break you." Her horn flashes and she teleports away to who-knows-where.

Boundless rises to her hooves and, once the pair of you have tidied up, guides you back towards her room. "Please forgive her, hon. Auri means well and she's doing her best. It's... difficult, sometimes." You ask what set her off; you don't think you said anything out of line, but better safe than sorry, right?

Boundless slows her walk and shakes her head sadly. "Months ago, everything changed. For the longest time, we were as one. Closer than sisters, closer than family. And then, in an instant, we were seperated from our Unity. The process was... not gentle." You're not sure you understand, but she continues. It sounds like she's kept this bottled up for a while, her voice quavering with emotion. "A thousand threads, tied in a great knot. And then you saw through the knot. What happens to the threads? They drift apart. They fray. They struggle for shape, and cling to whatever makes sense to them." She sniffs and wipes her eyes. "Auriga is our protector. It's all she knows."

You pat her shoulder, and she forces a sad smile. A few seconds pass and she sniffs, her expression slowly shifting to one of restrained amusement at the sight of you having to rear up just to reach. Her great green wing slowly drapes across your shoulders, pulling you into a warm, gentle hug against her side. "I'm sorry, hon. We shouldn't dwell on the past. All you should know is that my sisters and I have our little eccentricities." As she opens the door to her room and the smell of leather and assorted textiles hits your nostrils again, you jokingly point out that you gathered that last part already.

Boundless 'mhmm's, hanging up her coat. She takes her time bedding down in her little world of pillows and scraps as you close the door. "I have two great passions, hon. The first is tailoring. The second..." She trails off for a moment, huffing with exertion as she rolls onto her back, "...is this." She rests her forehooves on her the upward curve of her tummy, beaming with pride. It's only thanks to her long neck that she can see over that fecund swell. She'd need to stretch if she wanted to reach her navel.

"Now," she purrs, "if you don't mind taking a closer look? Just to make sure everything's going well."

You grin sheepishly, making your way to her side, and inform her that you can't do a proper examination straight away. It's not like you can weigh her, and you don't know a healthy weight to check her against even if you did. You don't have the equipment on hand to check her blood pressure or hormone levels. Would those even apply to a mutant mare? Still, you could look her over for obvious problems or oddities. From the look on her face, the way her eyes soften and a half smile inches onto her muzzle, it's obvious that she was simply waiting for you to ask. Is she genuinely worried about her health, or just fishing for an opportunity to show off? Her horn alights, jade magic slowly rolling up her strained undershirt.

Hook, line and sinker.

Boundless' belly is an icon of fertility - the sight of it all but hypnotises you. While the fur of her face and legs is a deep, verdant forest green, her prodigious abdomen calls to mind a rolling hillside coated in rich grass, the colour watered down by sheer surface area. The wide, smooth yet completely uniform shape shamelessly announces just how full her womb must be, the only irregularities being the subtle cleft running down the midline and the plump, faintly pink navel that sits triumphantly atop the whole thing. There's barely a hint of stretch marks anywhere; do her freaky mutant powers keep those from showing up, or was this body forged by the princesses themselves to carry foals?

You're aware of Boundless' wingtip gently stroking your back. Her gaze follows yours, eyes half-closing in contentment as you both look upon her fecund body. Apparently she's content to just lie there and smile while your brain restarts. Her tummy rises and falls in time with her breathing, almost seeming to gather and reflect the room's meager light. Is that the 'motherly glow' you've heard mares talk about, or is it the radiation? You can't be sure; either way, it's captivating.

"Go ahead, hon. You can touch it - I won't bite."

You reach out and softly lay a forehoof on her burgeoning flank (her side, not her butt). It's smooth and firm as marble; warm as morning sunlight. Boundless bites back a giggle, wiggling her hindlegs, and you mumble an apology for your cold hooves. Remembering that you're here to examine her, you wrack your brain for the deepest, most profound medical knowledge available to you. After a moment of deep deliberation, you pronounce your initial diagnosis. She's very big.

The alicorn rests her hoof on yours, that sneaky wingtip drifting down your spine. Her smile turns playful and she lowers her tone. "That would explain the achey hooves."

Cowed by her sarcasm, you fumble in your saddlebag for a moment to fetch your stethoscope and put the buds in your ears. With your free hoof, you place the metal instrument against her monumental swell, drifting it smoothly and methodically across the surface. There's just a little give to her smooth flesh, but not much. You register a faint heartbeat fairly quickly, but it's too muffled to belong to a foal. Boundless' heart beats strong and steady. You angle the stethoscope upwards, towards the top, and... there it is. You can't hide your grin - there's definitely a second heartbeat in there.

Boundless notices, of course, and looks about ready to explode with excitement. Her hoof tightens around yours and she leans towards you expectantly. "Can you hear it?"

You nod, and ask her to hold still for a minute. You want to be sure of something. After taking a few moments to memorise the position, you start searching again. You have to get up and move around to her other side to be sure, and she watches you the entire time, her face a mix of bemusement and curiosity. The stethoscope slowly glides along her skin, parting the fine fur, until-

Thump.

Boundless squeaks, but your smile only grows as what can only be a tiny hoof bumps irritably against the instrument from beneath her skin. A wave of gentle internal motion ripples across her tummy as the second foal wiggles into a more comfortable position, and a little chasing lets you pinpoint its heartbeat as well. You sit back, spread your hooves, and congratulate her on her twins.

The alicorn's forehooves shoot to her mouth, her eyes like saucers. She's simply speechless, stammering fitfully as tears pool in the corners of her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is a giddy whisper. "C-can I listen...?" You nod, moving around to her head so that she can share one of the earbuds. She curls her forelegs against her chest, and you lean across to find those little noises again. The moment you do, the tears start flowing. Once you track down the second one, Boundless wraps her forelegs around your entire body, hugging you so close it feels like you might be about to die after all. With your chin wedged against the place where her upper body meets her abdomen, you can think of worse ways to go. Her fur smells earthy, with a faint hint of ozone.

It's several minutes before you're allowed to breathe properly. After taking a barrage of profuse thanks, you let her borrow the stethoscope and walk her through the process of finding the heartbeats herself. Judging by her rapt attention, she could keep herself busy for days this way - she's probably already planning to.

"You have no idea how important this is," Boundless murmurs, still giddy with joy. "I suspected, but I never- th-they're so beautiful." Taking the opportunity to check on her wounded leg, you go for the cheesy rejoinder and suggest that they must take after their mother. She purses her lips facetiously. "Me? A monster mare with a stomach the size of a parade float?" You nod and continue - all things considered, she makes it look good. Very good. "Even this?" she asks, motioning vaguely in the direction of her womb. You pat her side, once again taken aback by just how firm and smooth her belly is, and admit that it must be a trial to carry around, but surely it's worth it. Right?

"It can be uncomfortable, but... yes. No regrets. No regrets at all."

An idea strikes you. You might be pushing the boundaries of decency, but Boundless has been accomodating so far. Perhaps you can do something to help with that little problem. You rest both forehooves on the sheer surface of her tummy and press just enough for the warm flesh to squish a little, then start running them in slow, steady circles. You watch her face carefully for signs of discomfort or offense, but the moment she registers what you're doing her expression softens and she sighs deeply, closing her eyes and wiggling her hooves.

Oh yes, tummy rubs are certainly in order.

As the fine fur of her belly parts smoothly beneath your forehooves and you touch her firm, life-bearing skin, it strikes you just how much trust Boundless is placing in you, barely an hour or two after your first meeting. You're not that charismatic. It makes you wonder just how long she's been starved for this sort of attention. Or is being a pushover her own 'eccentricity', like Auriga's stuffiness? You notice her eyeing you expectantly, and happily cast aside the armchair psychology for another time.

Belly rubs, unfortunately, aren't something you've had much experience with. Sure, you've examined pregnant mares a couple of times before, but never interacted with them in such a personal way. Still tracing tame little circles, you ask her if she'd like you to carry on. "Oh yes," she murmurs, "A little harder..."

You carefully lean in closer - Boundless' womb is so loaded that you can't apply much more pressure before start to you feel resistance, but it seems to satisfy her. She starts to relax, muscles loosening all over her body save for one of her hindlegs, raised and twitching restlessly. That giddy, blissed-out grin makes a reappearance. You raise yourself up onto your haunches, moving your attention towards the upper face of her belly. It seems to shine invitingly in the light. The moment your hooves touch down again there's another brief flurry of internal movement. The big, bountiful mare just coos under her breath, losing herself in the moment. You tenderly knead her, one hoof after the other, and try to do the same, vaguely aware that given the size difference between you, this might take a while. For who knows how long, the only sounds in the room are those of gentle breathing and slow, tender movement as you do the best you can to make her feel comfortable. After a while, you switch sides - this mostly ends up getting a reaction out of her other foal, and you both share a giggle at the idea that it might be trying to copy you.

The alicorn, however, is the first to break the quiet spell that fell across the room. She takes your hoof between hers, sitting up a little. "Thank you," she says sincerely, "I could never have asked something like this from my sisters. This is... not the sort of bond we share." You brush it off - least you could do and all those stock chivalry phrases. Boundless just smirks for a few seconds, slowly tilting her head. She knows you're just trying to be modest, and she's having none of it.

"Tell me honestly. Do you find me attractive?"

You stammer, pausing mid-rub. How do you respond to that? Boundless continues, patting your hoof comfortingly. "All I asked for was some help with my leg - I half-expected you to try and run away and fetch an angry mob. You didn't have to do any of this."

You choose your words carefully. She's not hurting anyone, and open minds are pretty rare these days. You're curious, perhaps intrigued by Boundless and her sisters. And - yes, you finally admit, you do find her very attractive. Mutant or not, she's a beacon of life; an island of thriving growth in an ocean of gray. Okay, so you don't put it that pretentiously, but you get the point across. Her cheeks flush, a little sparkle appearing in her eyes. You have her attention; apparently she's fishing for flattery.

"That's sweet, hon. Thank you," she purrs. "If you don't mind, could you get the lower part too?" You nod, taking the hint and circling around to her hindquarters - her back legs rest either side of you, long and slender. In front, her abundant gravidity looms, casting a shadow as if demanding your complete and undivided devotion. She smiles approvingly, fiddling with one of her ponytails. You decide to start near her navel and work your way down (and have to rear up to reach, all but laying on top of her) - it's a safe bet that she'll stop you before your hooves wind up anywhere too sensitive, right?

It quickly becomes apparent that the midline of Boundless' tummy is the most sensitive part. As your hooves gently traverse either side of the gentle cleft that frames her protruding belly button, her breathing gets faster. Her hindlegs twitch, hooves curling in what you can only assume is ecstacy. You stop and look her in the eye, dead serious for a moment, eliciting a little noise of confusion. Then, unable to resist the urge, you gently but firmly press down on her navel.

"Boop."

Boundless gives a little yelp, and the blush infecting her cheeks takes a sudden and extreme leap forward in intensity. She can, you cheekily point out, also be very cute. The mare huffs a little, folding her hooves across her chest, but she can't hide that smile so you return to the task at hand. It's slow going - you have a lot of ground to cover, but it's all too obvious by now that both of you are having fun. The lower reaches of her pregnant swell must bear the brunt of its weight while she's standing up, so it only makes sense that they're the most tender areas too. You don't do anything different, just apply some careful pressure and move your hooves in little patterns, but Boundless' self-control seems to be struggling. You lose sight of her face as you methodically work your way down the face of that beautiful belly, but you can hear the little noises she makes. The shallow breaths, the little gasps, the fitful twitching and fluttering of her wings.

She has, you realise with a twinge of emotion, put herself entirely at your mercy.

You stop, suddenly indecisive, with a gnawing suspicion that you might have crossed a line. You came here to heal this mare - and as stunning as she may be you do have a duty of care. It's not like you took the Hippocampus Oath or anything, but still. More than that - while Auriga's protectiveness might have been full of bluster, she did make a good point. Boundless is vulnerable. She's so desperate for intimate attention that it's hard not to feel like you might be taking advantage.

Tenderly, you smooth out her fur and lift your hooves from the surface of her tummy. She makes a little noise of confusion, and eyes you questioningly as you make your way back around to her side. You explain, as gently as you can, that you don't want to take things too far. Certainly not this quickly. Besides - if her sisters caught you (not unlikely, given Auriga's habit of teleporting everywhere)...

Boundless mulls things over for a few seconds, then slowly nods. "I understand, hon." There's disappointment in her voice, but she gives you a little pat on the head and motions for you to sit. "Maybe I got a little carried away. It's all just so exciting." She sighs wistfully. "I suppose that means you'll be leaving soon."

With a shrug, you remind her that you did say you'd be sticking around for a little while. At least until the bandage is off her leg and she can walk comfortably again. She ruffles your mane with a giggle, cradling the mass of her midriff between her wings. "I won't be walking comfortably for at least a month, hon. Not with these two in the way." She purses her lips. "Does this mean you can stay the night, at least?"

Time alone with a beautiful mare, in a hidden sanctuary full of cloth and blankets? You can easily think of worse ways to spend your time.

The evening passes uneventfully, but pleasantly. Boundless gets up and paces a little to stretch her legs, but it isn't long before she settles back down and the pair of you start to talk. Apparently she gathered all the soft cushions and padding for her room herself. Having discovered a knack for working with fabric several months back, she began collecting every last scrap that she could find, with an eye towards putting together protective clothing for herself and her sisters to use. It eventually transpires that the bulk of her current outfit, needing to be sized up from the standard fare, actually began life as a pair of hotel curtains. As her pregnancy advanced, making a place to rest her growing body was as simple as piling up all the write-offs and least workable materials in a heap. More at ease now, she sounds happily proud of herself.

As the light outside begins to wane, the alicorn invites you to sleep with her. It's not suggestive or crude - rather, resting on her front, she simply lifts her wing and suggests you get comfortable. As you lay down at her side, cushioned by her heap of tailoring supplies, the feathered limb curls over your shoulders and draws you closer. Nestled snugly between the warm feathers on one side, and the warmer, softer body on the other, you're lulled to sleep in a matter of minutes. The last thing you remember before dropping off completely is a motherly heartbeat, strong and steady against your cheek.

You awaken abruptly the next morning, from the best night's sleep you've had in a while. You might have been out cold for a few more hours, if not for Boundless shaking you. Your eyes creep open and you mumble something about wanting your favorite green blanket back.

"Please wake up, hon. I'm so sorry, but I need your help."

You rub your eyes, sitting up and trying to blink the drowsiness away. Boundless looms just in front of you, biting her lip with a grimace of worry. She taps a forehoof restlessly against the floor. "It's Auri. She didn't check back in last night, and she hasn't been in at all this morning. She always checks in every morning! Corona too!" You're not sure you understand, but you get up and dust yourself off. Boundless paces in a small circle, constrained by the limited size of the room. "W-we have to go and look for them! What if they're hurt?"

You bite back a yawn and try to help her calm down. After all the stories you've heard about alicorns being killer mutants that can snuff out a pony with a thought, surely her sisters can take care of themselves? Perhaps they got waylaid. Boundless shakes her head. "They're in the building. I know it - when I try to call out to them I can feel them nearby but I just can't figure out where. It's so frustrating!" She stomps her forehooves and puts a crack in the concrete.

Yeah, she's going to have to explain that one. Boundless sighs, rubbing her forehead with a wingtip. "My sisters and I each have our own spell. A gift from our Goddess. Mine is telepathy - I can reach out and touch the minds of other ponies. I can talk to them and they can talk to me." You nod. Not being a hornhead yourself you wouldn't know from experience, but you've heard that teleportation is supposed to be extremely hard, so that's probably Auriga's special spell. Who knows what Corona can do. But if Boundless can just talk to her sisters with magic, why all the fuss? "The same reason I don't regenerate," she explains. "All our abilities - the healing, the flight, the magic - they're all powered by radiation."

You put two and two together. Boundless' foals need radiation just like she does. Her womb is one great big power sink, sapping the rads from the rest of her body. You say as much. "Yes! Exactly. I can't cast my telepathy spell - I tried, but it's so weak, I only touched them for a moment. Trying to cast it properly, it..." She sniffs, glancing back over her shoulder, "...it hurts."

Okay then. So Boundless' magic is a no-go. You pat her shoulder reassuringly and begin to gather your things. The two of you have some lost alicorns to find.