Max groaned inwardly, his face still pressed firmly against her skin. As humiliating as it was, he couldn’t deny the flicker of pride at being useful—even if it meant being stretched to his limits as a glorified thong.
Aella turned back to the group, her confidence radiating. “Alright, let’s get moving. If Max keeps me this strong, that dragon won’t know what hit it.”
---
The sun was high in the sky as the adventurers continued their trek toward the dragon’s lair. The path was treacherous, with jagged rocks and sparse vegetation, but Aella’s strides were confident and unwavering. Max remained firmly in place, molded snugly against her most intimate area, his squishy form flexing with every step she took. The rhythmic movement was both a constant reminder of his predicament and a strangely soothing sensation, though he tried to ignore the latter.
“So, Aella,” Lyra piped up, her voice carrying a playful lilt as she tilted her head toward the barbarian. “Once we’re done with this dragon, you mind if I borrow Max for a bit? I could use a buff to my agility, and I think he’d make a great sock.”
Aella smirked, her hand idly brushing against her side where Max’s transformed body rested. “Sure, but only after we take down the dragon. He’s my thong for now, and I’m not sharing until I’m done with him.”
Max’s tiny voice squeaked out, muffled but audible. “Could you maybe not talk about me like I’m some kind of accessory?”
Lyra laughed, her sharp features lighting up with amusement. “Oh, come on, Max. You are an accessory. A very useful one, but still. Besides, I think you’d look adorable as a sock. Maybe I’ll even add some frills.”
Max groaned, his face heating up—though it was hard to tell given his current form. “I don’t think I signed up for this.”
Mira, the mage, walked quietly beside them, her expression pensive. Her large, round eyes flicked toward Aella, then down to the ground. “I... I feel bad for him,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “He was supposed to be the chosen one, and now he’s just... well, clothing.”
Aella shrugged, her tone dismissive. “He’s still helping us, isn’t he? That’s more than most people can say. And let’s be honest, he’s probably more useful as a thong than he would be as some scrawny chosen one.”
Max bristled at that, his malleable body stiffening slightly. “I can hear you, you know!”
“Good,” Aella shot back, her voice dripping with amusement. “Then you know exactly how much I appreciate your... support.”
Lyra giggled, her hands clasped behind her back as she skipped ahead. “I think it’s kind of cute, honestly. The way he just molds himself to your... uh, needs.” She winked at Aella, who let out a hearty laugh.
Mira’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “I just think we should treat him with a little more respect. He didn’t ask to be summoned, and now he’s stuck like this.”
“Respect?” Aella raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. “He’s a pair of underwear, Mira. What kind of respect do you expect me to show him?” She glanced down, her fingers grazing the edge of where Max’s form hugged her skin. “Besides, he seems to be doing just fine. Right, Max?”
Max didn’t respond, though his body twitched slightly, betraying his discomfort. He couldn’t deny that there was something oddly empowering about being useful, even in this bizarre form. But the constant teasing and belittling were starting to wear on him.
The group continued in silence for a while, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath their boots and the occasional rustle of wind through the sparse trees. Eventually, they reached a clearing, and Aella came to a halt, her eyes scanning the horizon.
“We’re close,” she said, her voice low and serious. “The dragon’s lair is just beyond that ridge. We’ll set up camp here and prepare for the fight tomorrow.”
Lyra nodded, her playful demeanor replaced by a rare moment of focus. “Good. I’ll scout the area and see if I can find any traps or hidden entrances.”
Mira hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her robe. “Shouldn’t we... I don’t know, make sure Max is okay before we go into battle? I mean, he’s going to be right in the middle of the fight if he’s stuck as your thong.”
Aella rolled her eyes, her hands resting on her hips. “He’ll be fine. If anything, he’s safer as my thong than he would be out in the open. Besides, he’s practically indestructible in this form.”
Max’s tiny voice piped up again, filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation. “I’m not indestructible! I can feel everything, you know!”
Lyra crouched down, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, really? So if I were to squish you right now...” She reached out, her fingers poking at the edge of Max’s form where it met Aella’s skin.
Max let out a high-pitched squeal, his body instinctively recoiling—or at least trying to, given his limited mobility. “Don’t do that!”
Aella swatted Lyra’s hand away, though her smirk remained. “Knock it off. We need him at full strength tomorrow.”
Lyra straightened up, her laughter echoing through the clearing. “Fine, fine. But I’m holding you to that promise, Max. Once this dragon’s dead, you’re mine.”
Mira sighed, her expression softening as she looked at Max, though he couldn’t see her from his current position. “I’ll... I’ll try to make this easier on you,” she murmured, her voice sincere. “I know it’s not much, but I’ll do what I can.”
Max felt a flicker of gratitude, though it was quickly drowned out by the overwhelming embarrassment of his situation. “Thanks, Mira,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
As the group began setting up camp, Max couldn’t help but wonder what the next day would bring. The thought of facing a dragon was terrifying, but the idea of spending even more time as Aella’s thong—or worse, Lyra’s sock—was almost as daunting. Still, there was a part of him that relished the idea of being useful, of proving himself in some small way.
When the camp was finally set, Aella stretched, her muscles rippling beneath her skin. She glanced down, her fingers idly tracing the edge of Max’s form. “You know, Max,” she said, her voice low and teasing, “you’re not half bad as a thong. If you keep this up, I might just keep you around.”
Max groaned, his body tensing beneath her touch. “Can we please focus on the dragon?”
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