Chapter 2! The final build-up chapter before its just endless debauchery for basically the rest of the story. Lots of Bethesda and Fallout game mechanic references in this one too.
Contains: futa on female, hyper cock and ridiculous body proportions, lots of fucking cum and cum inflation, and pregnancy/hyper pregnancy. Also Fallout and Bethesda references and such, of course.
Tags are for the story as a whole.
Comments and feedback are appreciated!
Happy reading :)
*****
One week later
...
Imogene was running out of time!
The seven days she'd lived in Vault 62 had been pleasant, easy-going ones. Nothing had been expected of her or the other residents quite yet, Bridget holding another meeting to explain the fairly loose-schedule the vault dwellers would be following, along with asking for volunteers to help out with some of the more mundane tasks that needed doing; things like cleaning, cooking, and some more
technical
jobs that people either already knew how to do, or were willing to learn. Imogene wasn't interested in
any
of that!
So, her days were spent eating, hanging out with Felicia and other women, and exercising; the vault had an on-site gym, and the women were encouraged to make use of it. Imogene did just that, mostly doing cardio to burn off her pent-up energy and check out her fellow residents, growing more and more amazed at how
attractive
they all were. It was like she'd been presented with a
buffet
of huge tits and asses! Additionally, this allowed Imogene to occupy her hours of free-time
masturbating
, both in her room and the open-use, shared-bathrooms, which, thankfully, were lined with stalls. Privacy - and an endless supply of towels - was
definitely
a necessity someone like Imogene required!
When she wasn't engaged in any of those activities Imogene wandered through the vault, acting casual like she was just aimlessly strolling through her home's halls, but really doing it in order to learn everything about Vault 62 she could. She burned its layout into her brain, calculating the location of every camera and where their blindspots appeared to be, as well as 'testing' how off-limits the staff-only sections were; there were several instances that ended with her being
scolded
by a guard on duty when she went too far, but she just pretended to be apologetic and embarrassed by her rule-breaking.
But Imogene's easy-living was about to meet its end.
Just that morning, during breakfast, Dr. Walsh made an announcement: starting tomorrow, every staff member and resident of Vault 62 would be given a
physical
by the in-house medical doctor. And it was
mandatory
!
Fuck
! Imogene knew that even if she even came up with an excuse or made herself scarce when she was called that it would only buy her a few extra days, and she wouldn't be able to avoid a trip to the physician's for long, If that happened her cover would be blown, the curtains pulled back on her ruse. Her best bet, in that worst-case-scenario, was to try to seduce the woman performing the examinations, but even that had a fifty-fifty chance of succeeding at the
most
.
What would happen to her then? Would they lock her up in the brig - which she'd discovered during one of her vault-strolls - until they figured out what to do with her? Or would they kick her out and make her try and survive the nuclear wasteland of the surface? The last option was the most
distressing
by a landslide! No one in the vault, as far as Imogene understood, had
any
idea of what life was like above ground, or if there was even 'life'
left
after the war; the radios scattered about the facilities had either played music on a loop or
static
whenever they managed to find a signal. There could be giant, green-skin mutants killing and kidnapping everyone who'd survived for all Imogene knew!
The mountain of concerns Imogene now had to fret over sent her mind into a tailspin. She needed to put the plan that she'd been brewing up since her very first hour in Vault 62 into action in the coming days, if not that
night
. For Imogene, this had transformed into a matter of
survival
rather than one exclusively concerned with self-serving pleasure - though that was still a factor - her life literally on the line if she didn't act soon. She mentally went over the required steps to turn the tables in her favor, ironing out any potential flaws in her idea, her bottom lip folded into her teeth.
A tray of half-eaten food sat in front of her, Imogene's head bowed towards it, deaf to the going-ons around her; Felicia and several other women they'd befriended during their regular meals and free-time chatted casually about this and that, not paying any attention to the intensely staring, statue-still member of their group. At least not at
first
. Eventually, one of them must have asked Imogene a question she didn't hear, and when she didn't respond or even
acknowledge
them, Felicia reached out and shook her. Imogene jolted up, suddenly alert, her body
bouncing
off the rotund curves of her first friend in the vault next to her.
"Jane? Are you okay?" Felicia's voice was filled with concern, her features furrowed for emphasis, "You haven't said anything for a while. Is everything alright?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm... I'm okay." Imogene replied, trying to look sad, having come up with her excuse on the spot, "Just
remembering
. You know how it is - my brain keeps wondering about everything I left behind."
"Awww, I'm so sorry, hun'!"
Felicia wrapped an arm around Imogene's shoulder and hugged her into her side closely, the futanari
shuddering
at how squishy the woman's body felt.