Full Moon Therapy


Written by Septia.


Grains of sand clanked in the hourglass, falling in line to the mare's steps as she wandered through the hospital corridors: clean walls tinged in a sterile blue that enveloped all surrounding colors. It was always something, always somepony, but her help would alleviate their stress and pain. Through a door, she found the patient: resting on a hospital bunk, draped in covers. Steady breathing lifting their midsection, up, down, up… 
	“Good evening,” Redheart began, “sorry to disturb you at this hour.”
	The sheet inflated with a pang of force, swelling up into a bloated mushroom cap and casting the sheet off of the pony's body -Chrhbrwppthsths-. 
	Redheart stepped back. “I-is… everything-?” 
	The pony opened its eyes. Its front hooves were thrown up while shuffling off of the bed, onto the its hooves, standing upright on its front legs. Its stomach hoisted upwards as though pulled by a marionette string, bloated, morphing, contorting into domes and bulges – the impression of a faux head. 
	“R-reeeedd hh-haerd, nurse reedeheart.” It spoke with no mouth, and crept closer. 
	Redheard turned tail, back through the door, a pang of her conscious flared with the thought: why are you running? They might need your help… She turned her head, but from the door, there was not one, but a dozen. Upturned ponies sloughing forwards, staggering in their unnatural gait, yet advancing steadily. 
	Redheart's chest contracted, breathing strummed with a, dull ache. She turned her back to them, running, though she moved through the hospital corridors at not but a leisure pace. All as she saw were more doors opening, heard the choire of voices at her back. 
	“Help us.” 
	“Help us, Redheart.” 
	“Redheart, we need you.” 
	“The pain.” 
	“Why do you flee, Redheart?” 
	Breathing picks up… It matters not how far she runs, the end of the corridor stretches ever onwards, as if no matter how much effort she put in, she was standing still… 
	“Redheart.” 
	“Reeedhhheaart.” 
	“Red… ehart.” 
	Closer, closer the came. She shut her eyes. 


“Hark, nurse Redheart.” 
	That voice… She opened her eyes. All the shadows were drawn across the corridor, all elongating the path, coalescing, merging into a deep blackness that spread its wings. 
	“P-Pri-princess, L-Luna,” Redheart stammered. 
	“Physician, do not be troubled by thine own mind. Approach.” The princess called. And in that instance, Redheart felt herself at the end of the corridor, with Luna. But… when she turned… The hoard approached. 
	Redheart inhaled far more than she breathed, letting the air escape her lugs. Backing up from the approaching wave of malformed mares and stallions. 
	“Fear not, for these are but the eidolons of you-. P-physician?” Luna was exacerbated as the nurse bumped up against her, backing in into her frame at the back of the corridor. “Redheart?” 
	“I c-cant't, I can't,” Redheart wheezed while wading in between Luna's legs, cramped up in the canyons under her barrel. 
	“Redheart…” 
	“Redheart?” 
	“Red… heart.” the crowed echoed. 
	“P-please, pleast,” she wheezed out, trying to fully swallowing breaths down. 
	“H-heeelp.” One overturned stallion pleaded, reaching for her.
	“Princess, don't let them-,” Redheart exclaimed, but in the nervous throes and shifts, she felt the stomach above give way… Her head, funnelled along a march of delicate chub, funnelled upwards into the expanse of plush comfort. The bulk displaced around her head with a jostle -Chhrlpggsh- of pudding atop a swing, the wall of pudge bulldozing over her ears… sealing out the pleads. Redheart thrashed, though her stance hoisted her higher, as the embrace of the midnight coat brushed down her head, past her neck, over her shoulders. She felt herself sinking upwards into its hold, as its plying tugs grabbed past her shoulders, over her chest, rumbling down her barrel. 
	“R-redheart, what be th-.” 
	“Redheart.” 
	“Reeeddhhearts.” The crowed called. 
	The nurse scrambled, rising higher into the inverted folds of Luna's abdomen, the belly button accepted her, drawing her upwards, through the divot and into a realm of massaging pressure. 
	Luna's stomach burgeoning with her frame, a steady swell that matched the tides of tugs, hauling up her torso. Her cutie mark sinking past the breach of the gut, and her legs kicking off of the ground, slurped up in weighty groans of displaced blubber -Chrlrlspt- -Clslpthgplt- another chug had Luna's belly rocking and swelling. The space where once a mare had stood, was now immersed and engulfed in the broad expanse of deep, dark, guts. Another tug around her hooves -Chstlltps- Cslltpgwwng- and the last of the mare seeped through the belly button, carried and clamped into the trench of blubber, and contained in a clasp within the princess's body. 
	Luna panted, her breathing shaking the gut with a rattle of contorting fur, swaying under her frame like a sack of gelatin. 
	“R-redhear-… Physician, thy, intrusion in our form is most-.” 
	“Mmphaamfmfnphaa,” Redheart wheezed, the gut walls contracting and swelling like a paper bag under her trembling breaths. 
	Luna paused, and looked over the horde of terrors. A shame to see night terrors affect her subjects to this degree. Her horn lit aglow, wiping the nightmare from the frame… The hospital walls shed their sterility, paint and ceramics stripped to unveil the cozy decor of a living room, the lights shone a gentle cobalt, and the ponies… remained. 
	“Redheart?” 
	“Red… heart.” 
	Luna's eyebrows narrowed. Feeling her stomach expand and contract at the nurse's wheezes. She sighed, leaning down against the ground, and onto her side against the wall, her stomach deluging ahead of her, jostling, bloated wider than a couch cushion and carrying the faint indents of the earth pony's self. 
	She could not erase the hoard, even as the facade of the dream-hospital faded, and she relaxed in a comfortable, homely atmosphere. They were there… Yet, she they would not get past her. 
	“Pha, Hannah… huaha…” Redheart wheezed within. 
	Luna draped her hooves over the gut, pulling the front into a cradle, letting her hooves divut into the contours of the gut, finding the mare's head, and brushing down along it. A roiling dune of tummy chub warping around her hoof as she massaged down her sides, prodding and caressing the mare’s form as her engorged middle sloughed -Hhgltpsh- and jostled like a puttering stew, shifting around dunes and domes of belly in the caustics, smoothing to the kneads of her hooves. Her stomach jostled gently in kind, shimmying the mare to and fro, a cradle of moulding blubber caressing her coat, sculpting kneads plying ever so gently into the mare, packed in the sloughing cradle of the night's ruler. Soft brushes paused, every now and again, just to hold, for her hooves to clutch in the expanded gut, blubber warping on each side of her hoof, holding onto the mare: anchoring Redheart, and providing her body with a stable Foundation. 
	The frantic swell and contraction of the gut… eased, slowly. From five shakes every stroke, to four, to three. 
	“Hoa…mm… hoa…” the nurse, breathing out, letting the stomach swell gently to conceal her outlines. After many minutes, Redheart spoke. “Are they… still there?” 
	Luna turned her attention to the hoard. They stood, vigilant, shifting on malformed, topsy-turvy physiology, waiting. 
	“Subject of mine, they are but manifestations of thy subconscious. Yet, I shall be thine protector, as thou require.” 
	“J-just… dreams,” she wheezed, breaths irregular, though lacking in its aggressive anxiety, in a space, where she could do not much. “Y-yeah…” 
	Luna thought, glancing over he ponies, the patient-dressed creatures, all gathered in what she assumed to be Redheart's picturesque home in Ponyville. They were not confined to the hospital, though their cries had grown dim, distant, until each stopped demanding the nurse's attention… 
	
	
“Do take care that, you do not… stress, my stomach, too much. Under too much pressure, even the regal body will begin to cave,” Luna spoke as she brushed her abdomen, cradling and hugging into the engorged orb of a mare filled gut. 
	“Of… of… course,” Redheart whispered. “I… I am keeping you… princess… I… forgive me-.” 
	“Was not to pardon, mare of medicine, see this for what it be: a dream, one from which you will awaken. Thou art trusted to all comfort and relaxations thine body, and mind, deserve,” she said, swirling her hoof against the top of the slugging bulk. 
	She panted out, rather than spoke, “R-right… of course… it is all… merely, a dream.” 
	The princess relaxed, letting her stomach slough free, coddles of plush skin sloughing along the mare like an ocean of ripples, caressing the intends and protrusions of the physician. “Shhhs… how, silly, one can be.” 
	Luna peered out over the overturned pones as they shifted back. She followed their motions, whilst laying protective around her subject: a lioness guarding her catch from rival scavengers, with no intention to give up the mare tucked in her tummy. 
	The monstrous ponies, dispersed, though, did not disappear. Slowly, they took places throughout the living room. Some staring idly at portraits, others lounging in the couch, sitting in Redheart's chairs, slumped over her furniture. Less signs of aggression, and more… of patience, of a bizarre belonging. Luna's eyes following the apartment. In any place she could see the nurse allowing herself some privy and relaxing; was occupied by one of these apparitions. They waiting by the wardrobe with her, sat by the table with her, read her books together… Everywhere… except here, in his corner, taken up by the ruler of night, and her plush, bloated stomach. 
	Luna brushed over them gently. “Dreams carry insights from our deeper selves, it does one no favors to ignoring them, be they favorable, or less. Relax tonight, be safe, yet do not forget, thou not repress. 
	“Oh, yes, I… they are… still out there…” 
	Luna nodded to herself. “So they be,” she concurred, then, wrapped her hooves around her gut, and scooped the nurse-stuffed abdomen against her. “Moreover, yes, thou art allowed to spend the night within mine guttural chambers.”
	“I… aa…” Redheart panted, her breath still irregular. “It, is ap-appreciated, Princess. Apologies for this… awkward spot I have-.” 
	“Shhhs…” Luna hushed with a tone that carried a sharp hum embedded in untold layers of velvet. “Thine only obligation, is to rest, and process,” she hummed, as her gut moulded and jostled in her lap -Chhrgllsp- -Cllgpth- an orchestra of supple grinds and kneads of cooling flesh and gentle fat. 
	“T-thankk… you…” 
	Luna hummed as she caressed her abdomen. There was none with more experience of dreams than her, and she knew this would not have occurred, without it fueling a certain desire within the nurse's overworked subconscious.


~ 1 ~

 
A yawn passed the Princess's lips -Haammnwnf-… she stretched out in bed, moving herself from her slumber, stretching and peeking her eyes open, a grin already rising on her lips. 
	-Bllghllsh- a jostle of molten jellybeans jostled her abdomen, stomach protruding far in her lap, drooping down the sides of her frame as she laid on her back. She prodded it with her hoof, feeling the pudge dip and cradle around her crouch, patting and cuddling with he her own abdomen. “Mfmpf pfmh… wh-what?” came a voice from within. 
	“Shhs…” Luna hushed, “Be not afraid mine subject, thou art in safe hooves.” 
	“Pr-princess?” The mumble continued. 
	“In the flesh.” 
	“B-but… this,” a bloat of Redheart's hoof protruded from the gut, plying the skin around the pillar of her limb, warping the skin, before retracting under the buoyant walls. “I must… still be dreaming.” 
	“In a sense, thou can call this a daydream,” Luna said, gently shuffling towards the edge of her bed, and dropping to the floor. Her stomach sagging after with a slosh and bounce of the nurse -Cbbgwlbtwwwngs-. Her stomach drooping and jostled under its own weight, towed along as a medicine ball wrapped in bread dough. “Then thou have become eligible for quite a prestigious offer. Paid vacation, vacations where thou art to relax, and rest,” she mused, brushing her abdomen as she strode through her room, towards a balcony looking over the slumbering land. Thou have deigned thyself fit to return, before then,” she said, rubbing her belly and bandaging the nurse up warm and supple. “Thou shalt be mine,” she mused as the moon descended, and a new morning in Equestria began. 


~ 2 ~


“Miss Redheart?” 
	The physician stopped, and peering back, seeing a fellow nurse trottingup to her. 
	“Yes, nurse Mayflower?” 
	“Would you be able to assist me? We have taken in a few patients who the flue has been all but kind to, we could use more horsepower in our department today.” 
	Redheart paused, closing her eyes. Listening, to the pace of her heart. Of the breath, percolating into her lungs, and lulling out past her lips. “Certainly, always ready to lend a hoof, have we enough medication in stock?” 
	“Oh, of course, it is just a matter of approximating the proper dosage between them, and if we require more, then we can…” 
	Her fellow nurse kept talking, Redheart listening, yet lost in her own mind. Eyes glancing past one of the open doors in the hospital corridor, leading towards a mirror, in which for a moment, she spotted a shadow, dark as the deepest night, watching her with a twinkle in its face, before transposing back into shadows.