Anthony’s armor clanked through the empty dungeon, and he tapped his sword idly on a pile of skeletons, wondering if they would leap to life. No such luck, it appeared that this dungeon was long abandoned.

“Hello, what’s this?” he sheathed his sword, walking to a small treasure chest, tucked into a corner of the forgotten cave. He frowned as he looked at the filthy surroundings, and then to the immaculately clean and gold trimmed box. “Wait a minute…” he rubbed his chin, “this is obviously a mimic!”

“N-No it’s not!” a girl’s muffled voice called.

Anthony sighed, “A real treasure chest doesn’t talk!”

“Well you haven’t seen them all! Maybe some do!” the girl’s muffled voice called, “Just open it and find out!”

Anthony sighed, drawing his sword again and holding it up and at the ready, “Okay, you’re right,” he said in a mocking voice, “clearly there is a lot of gold in here! Here I go, ready to open it up!”

He flicked the latch on the chest open, and fought to roll his eyes as the ridged teeth inside the box appeared, along with four long tentacles that whipped out, ready to draw him in to the gaping maw. Inside the mimic’s true form, a mischievous blue haired girl with pointed ears and shining yellow eyes, giggled excitedly, holding out her arms in anticipation of her prize.

“GOT YOU-“ she froze as she looked down at the point of the blade just inches from her throat, then up at the stern looking knight. The tentacles froze, and she looked at him, wide eyed, then tears started welling up. “WAAAHHH!” she cried squeezing her yellow eyes shut.

“Oh come on now,” Anthony scowled, “face the end with some dignity!”

“I-I’m just sooo hungry!” she whined, “nobody ever comes to this dungeon!”

Anthony felt pity stir in him, and with a sigh he lowered his sword, reaching around to his pack and pulling a large piece of dried beef jerky out for her. She looked at him suspiciously, but then snatched it from his hand, devouring it in a handful of bites.

“Wow!” she moaned, “this is so good!” She swallowed the last of it down and looked at him with eager puppy-dog eyes.

“I don’t have any more,” he sighed, “but… why don’t you come with me back to my camp? I have some more provisions there, and this is really no place for anyone, even someone like… well, you.”

“Yeah,” she said with a smile, “you’re right, not a lot of foot traffic here!” The sides of the box seemed to warp, shifting around her as she “climbed” out, each of the wooden panels seeming to absorb seamlessly into her legs as she stood up and stretched. “I’m Boxy!” she said, holding out an eager hand.

“Sir Anthony,” he said with a wry grin, shaking it.

She was a short girl, barely as tall as his chestplate, still she was a comely maiden, and Anthony found himself forcing his gaze away from her bouncing chest as she eagerly skipped after him.

“So, you’re not going to slay me for the XP or anything, are you?” Boxy asked, following him out of the small dungeon’s entrance.

“Even monsters deserve mercy and kindness, if they are willing to accept it,” Anthony said hesitantly, “You’re not planning on eating me in my sleep, are you?”

“Nah, I’m full!” she giggled, “besides, we don’t really eat humans, we just kind of drain your energy and then spit you out… or at least I do, I guess other mimics don’t stop after you guys pass out.”

“Yes, well you should see about plying an honest trade,” Anthony began in a sanctimonious tone, “Mimic or not, Monster or not, you should overcome your beastly nature! Only then will you be free to live a life of religious fulfillment-“

“Stick ‘em up!” a low voice growled.

Anthony froze, not five paces from him was dirty man in leather armor, with a cocked crossbow in hand and a yellow toothed grin on his face. He slowly inched forward, gesturing for the knight to put his hands up.

“Good sir,” Anthony began nervously, “we have no gold, please don’t harm me or my companion!”

“Companion?” the man growled, “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your friends, I just want whatever’s in that fancy box!”

Anthony frowned, turning to his side and seeing that Boxy was gone, in her place was the ornate red paneled chest with gold trim. He raised an eyebrow, then carefully stepped away from it.

“Fine, take my treasure,” he said, “but you’ll never be able to spend it all! It’s simply too much gold!”

The bandit’s eyes widened, and he licked his lips greedily as he all but ran for the chest, lowering his crossbow. He fumbled with the latch a moment.

“Surprise!” Boxy shouted excitedly as the lid popped open. The bandit’s eyes went wide, and he screamed in panic as the girl’s arms gripped his, aided by the four tentacles as they pulled him inside. The lid snapped shut with a *click* and the box rocked back and forth a few times, muffled shouting coming from inside. The box seemed to fall apart, the sides plopping away and revealing Boxy’s smiling form next to the comatose bandit. “All done!” she said eagerly.

“That was fantastic,” Anthony said in wonder.

“Yeah, once I get ‘em in the box it’s pretty much over,” Boxy said with a shrug. Her face lit up, “hey, maybe I could come with you? You know, help with quests and stuff!”

“I don’t know,” Anthony muttered, “A monster and a knight working together?”

“Aw, come on!” Boxy pouted, leaning on him, “I’ll watch your back for you! That way you don’t get snuck up on again.”

“Well, all right,” Anthony said with a sigh, “but only because I’m hoping to set a good example for you, maybe with my shining example you could give up monstering.” He frowned as he noticed he was looking her in the eye, “Wait a moment, weren’t you…”

“Smaller?” she giggled, “yeah, this guy,” she nudged the bandit with her foot, “he fed me pretty good, we mimics get bigger the more energy we get!”

“I see,” he said with a frown. This could prove troublesome… He tried to think of mimics he’d seen, the largest was the size of a noble’s dresser, big, but still big enough to handle. He smirked to himself, dismissing his concerns as Boxy skipped along behind him.

…

As it turned out a companion was just what Anthony needed, and he found his mood lightened as he woke up to see her sleeping in box form by his campfire, the lid of the chest rising and falling as she snored.

“All right, up and at ‘em!” he called, startling Boxy and causing her to return to her human form so quickly that her butt landed on the ground with a small thump.

“What’s the hurry?” Boxy muttered, standing up and rubbing her bottom with a frown.

“The town ahead has been waylaid by a terrifying troll, he comes in the mornings and I want to catch him before he escapes into the woods!” Anthony drew his sword, “Come Boxy, there’s justice to be done!”

“Sweet!” Boxy practically bounced behind him in excitement, and he fought a chuckle as she did a cartwheel past him.

…

“I TROGUS THE TERRIBLE, WILL DEVOUR EVERYONE IN THIS VILLAGE!” the troll roared, throwing a massive boulder at Anthony.

With a grunt he dove out of the way as the people of the small village scattered, screaming. The troll had apparently been taking bushels of eggs and beef up until now, but the knight’s appearance had enraged him, and now he’d aired his cannibalistic intent. He was a beastly thing, eight feet tall and with pale green skin, rippling muscles, and serrated tusks that dripped translucent drool as he howled, giving chase to the fleeing warrior.

“Quick, over here!” Boxy called, beckoning him into a tavern.

With a yelp Anthony dove in, narrowly missing a tossed anvil that would have surely taken his head off. He panted a moment, wiping sweat from his brow.

“R-Right,” he breathed, “Perhaps I’ve underestimated the troll, I propose an orderly retreat.”

“What!?” Boxy exclaimed, “Come on Mr. Justice, he’s gonna eat all of those humans, which is bad!” She frowned, “I think… right?”

“It’s bad,” he sighed, “You’re right… but how could we beat him?”

Boxy chewed her lip, “How smart are trolls?”

…

“Trogus!” Anthony called, stepping into the town square as the villages cowered beneath the troll’s hungry gaze.

“Hmm… come back for more?” he chuckled, turning to the knight.

“You’ve clearly bested me,” Anthony said, sheathing his sword, “and I shall offer you your choice of prize.”

The troll stroked his chin, “Okay, I’m intrigued…”

“You can eat all of those villagers there,” Anthony said, causing wails of terror from the townsfolk, “Or, you could have whatever is in the mystery box!” He gestured to his side, where a massive gilded chest had appeared.

Trogus licked his lips, cautiously approaching the chest, “What’s in it?”

“It could be anything,” Anthony said, waving his hands mysteriously.

Trogus looked back at the villagers, who cowered as he studied them, “But that’s a lot of villagers,” he muttered, “I’d be eating for days!”

“Yes,” Anthony said quickly, “but what if there are even more villagers inside the box?”

“But-“

“You’ll never know if you don’t pick it!” Anthony said with a grin, “I’ll take it with me, and you’ll always wonder what was in it!”

“The box!” Trogus cried, thundering across the town square with his arms outstretched eagerly. The villagers breathed a collective sigh of relief, but instead of fleeing they eagerly peered at the treasure chest as the troll unlatched it.

“Maybe it’s a new anvil?” the blacksmith whispered.

“Or a nice steel plow!” the farmer called.

“What are you people doing?” Anthony hissed, looking back at the troll, “Run!”

“I can’t go until I see what’s in that box,” the mayor declared.

Anthony sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration as he heard the troll’s shout of surprise behind him, “Surprise!” Boxy shouted, as he turned around. The box rocked back and forth, clanging on the cobblestones as the troll fight with Boxy inside the chest, then went still. There was a sound almost like a burp as the troll, now limp and knocked out cold, was tossed out onto the street.

“See that he’s chained up,” Anthony said, nodding to the stunned villagers.

“So wait, I don’t get it,” The blacksmith said, following after him a moment, “what was in the box?”

“The power of friendship!” Boxy said, bounding up to him excitedly. “We did it!”

“Yes we certainly…” Anthony trailed off as he looked up at Boxy’s towering form. She was taller than the troll had been, close to nine feet in height as she loomed over him, grinning. That wasn’t all either, she’d filled out, with a rounder bottom, larger breasts, and a curvy pair of wide hips. With a grunt he was picked up and hugged against her massive chest, blushing as his face was pressed against the thin fabric of her shirt as she embraced him excitedly.

“What’s wrong?” she giggled, holding him away from her and letting his legs dangle a moment before lowering him back down to the cobblestones.

“Y-You’re-“

“Well, I have some say over where that extra energy goes,” she giggled, slapping her ass playfully. She bit her lip and leaned over him, letting him look down her shirt, “I can see by your expression I chose well.”

Think holy thoughts, think holy thoughts, he told himself, nodding, red faced as he led the Amazonian Mimic out of the town.

…

The rain poured down on Anthony, soaking his cloak and making him shiver. The campfire had long ago gone out, and the late season trees provided little shelter.

“Anthony,” Boxy’s voice whined from inside the box, “just come in here!”

“It wouldn’t be proper,” he insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly and looking at the soaked ashes of his fire, “if the gods wish me to be warm and dry, then I shall be warm and dry.”

There was a frustrated grunt from inside the box, and the next thing he knew Boxy was in her human form strutting over to him.

“Wait, what are you-“

She sat down behind him, draping her long arms around him and pulling him into her lap like a favored stuffed animal. The world spun a moment, and the walls of the chest sprang up around him, the lid curling over them and slamming shut, leaving them in the darkness as the rain pattered above them.

His first thought was that she was warm, and he felt himself almost reflexively lean into the giant girl’s bosom as the cold and damp of the night were pushed from him. His second thought was that she was naked, and he started as he realized his head was nestled between her bare breasts, a pair of twin pillows that threatened to suck him in and smother him with their tantalizingly soft surface. A soft, feminine, almost velvety scent filled his nostrils as she sighed, hugging him closer.

“B-Boxy, where are your-“

“I usually don’t bother manifesting clothes if it’s just me in here,” she giggled. “You should probably get out of yours too, they’re soaked.”

He felt a massive hand start to work his buckle, sliding his pants down slowly and letting them land in the corner with a wet squealch. Her long fingers traced under his shirt next, sending it to join his trousers as Boxy pressed her massive body against his, relishing the feeling of her skin upon his own.

“Good night,” she giggled, pulling him close, teasingly running one hand over his rock-hard manhood.

Anthony blinked, feeling his heart race as the massive woman snuggled him tight against her naked body.

Is it acceptable in the eyes of the gods to love monsters? He wondered. As he heard the soft snoring behind him, combined with the pitter patter of the rain against the roof of the chest, he found he didn’t much care.

…

“So the bandits are robbing wagons?” Anthony asked the merchant caravan leader.

“T-That’s right sir Anthony,” the man stammered, glancing up at the towering girl behind him. “Begging your pardon sir, but is she a giant of some kind?”

“No, I’m a mimic!” Boxy said cheerfully, waving to the assembled travelers.

“She’s with me,” Anthony said with a smirk.

“Good to hear,” the merchant said uncertainly, “Anyways, yes, the bandits are in the forest and have robbed us the last three times through here… Do you have a plan to defeat them?”

“Oh!” Boxy said excitedly, “You know Anthony, I can turn into some other stuff, besides just a treasure chest!”

Anthony raised an eyebrow, “What did you have in mind?”

…

Anthony sat in the driver’s seat of the massive covered wagon, holding reins to horses that stared straight ahead, neither breathing nor moving. They waited in the center of the road, far from the rest of the caravan, a baited trap.

“The horses look a little… fake,” he said in a hushed tone, leaning back to the wagon’s interior.

“Making stuff outside my disguise movie is hard!” she protested, “besides, they probably won’t even check.”

“Looks like easy pickings boys!” a man’s voice laughed. Anthony glanced to the treeline, and a moment later four burly looking men with swords and axes came out of the brush, eyeing his wagon eagerly.

“Oh no!” Anthony cried, throwing his hands up, “please don’t steal my collection of rare jewels!”

The men laughed, pulling him roughly down from the driver’s spot and climbing up to the cloth doors of the wagon. The four crowded around eagerly, jostling each other for position.

“Quit shoving!” Boxy cried. The men froze, “I mean uh… help, I’m a super hot princess and these bandits have my wagon!”

“There’s a super hot princess in there and a rare jewel collection!?” The bandit leader called eagerly, “come on boys!” He pulled the wagon flap back, and the four men’s expressions turned from joy to horror as four tentacles whipped out of the darkness, pulling them in as they screamed for help.

Boxy appeared a moment later, standing taller than the trees as the four men lay unconscious at her feet, “Wow, joining up with you was the best decision ever!” she said excitedly, looking down at the stunned knight with a grin, “most mimics NEVER get this big!”

“Gods, this is getting out of hand,” Anthony muttered, looking up at her. He gulped as he realized he could see up her short dress.

She bent down, curling her massive fingers around his body. His stomach lurched as she lifted him up, bringing him to her grinning face.

“You know Anthony, you were right, helping people is much more satisfying than being a dungeon monster!” She slowly lowered him down to her now even more impressive cleavage, her fingers playfully poking and pressing him down into the massive field of pillowy softness until he was wedged tightly between a pair of breasts that would have been cantaloupe sized if she still stood at human height.

“S-So glad you took my message to heart,” he stammered, looking down at the ground below. How are we going to handle adventures and quests with her at this size? He wondered.

…

Anthony gulped as he looked at the crowd of orcish barbarians, hefting clubs and glaring at him angrily, “All right humie, we’re here to loot and pillage this land!” the chieftain declared, “And you’re the only one the puny king sent against us? I think you’re licked!”

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Anthony sighed, “If you gentlemen would just all go inside this house here,” he pointed to a sprawling manor that didn’t at all fit the rural landscape around them. If the orcs were paying attention, they’d notice the “mansion” was built at an odd angle from the road, and that the scenes inside the windows were merely painted on. “Please go one at a time, I’ve prepared a large feast to honor your victory,” Anthony explained.

The orcs roared and cheered, shoving him aside as they fought each other for the right to enter the house first. They slammed the doors open, flowing into the dark interior hollering excitedly. A second later the familiar sounds of surprise and panic reached him, and he sighed, standing up and dusting himself off.

“All done!” Boxy said, standing up as the walls of the “mansion” folded up into her clothing.

“I’m starting to think this isn’t an honorable way to defeat foes,” Anthony said, glancing around with a grimace at the sleeping horde of orcs. His gaze slowly traced up Boxy’s legs, her stomach, her chest, and finally up to her face, grinning down at him like the top of one of the king’s towers. Gods above she’s taller than any castle I’ve ever seen.

Boxy stretched, playfully nudging the knocked out orcs out of her way with her wagon sized feet to clear a path. She stomped back to the road, each footstep causing the ground to shake beneath him. With a giggle she bent down, pinching him like he was a small bug, bringing him back up to her face once again.

“Wow, I’m getting huge, she giggled. She brought him down to her cleavage again, this time the sea of her breasts was so massive that he was sucked under their surface almost immediately, and any attempt to fight the downward trajectory into the heart of her brassier was sabotaged by a tree trunk thick finger that pressed on his squirming body, driving him further into the warm pillowy darkness.

…

Anthony gulped nervously as he looked up at the towering form of the Dark Lord Barthanas. With a determined glare he strode forward as the battle raged around them, bringing his sword high to meet the massive armored figure. The armies of good and evil battled around them, one last desperate gambit to keep the master of shadows from returning to his ancient fortress and bringing ruin to the world. Brave knights and vicious orcs dueled, and brave elves in gleaming armor spun glaivelike swords, deflecting goblin arrows out of the air. The heavy black armor of Barthanas clanked ominously as he walked towards Anthony, preparing for their final duel.

“Ah,” the dark lord cackled, “So Sir Anthony has finally come to do battle with me?” He raised his mace high, “You know you can’t win, all I need to do is reach my fortress with this! The Mace of the Apocalypse!” He gestured to the massive black castle behind them, “the runes inside its walls will activate the Mace, giving me godlike powers!”

“You’ll never make it by me!” Anthony cried.

It was a lie of course, Sir Anthony knew that, for all of his skill with a blade, the Dark Lord would easily beat him. Still, the last few months had taught him a thing or two about deception, and the real goal was not to defeat the Dark Lord, who was unstoppable at this point, but to delay him.

He shouted in pain as his sword was battered from his hand, and the massive armored figure gripped him by the neck, lifting him high off the ground. The army of monsters around them cheered, and started pushing back his allies as the dark lord carried his struggling form up to the ruined fortress.

“All I need do is step inside my fortress,” Barthanas laughed, “And your world will end! ”

“Step inside which one? ” Anthony grinned.

Barthanas balked, before him were two identical fortresses, “What in the name of the Devil…” He scowled, “What is this trickery!”

“Step into the right fortress? You rule the world,” Anthony rasped, “Choose the wrong one? And your conquest ends!” He grinned, “I know what you’re thinking my lord, did I build my fortress six hundred feet from the road? Or only five? In all the chaos I lost track myself… So I guess the real question is, do you feel lucky?”

“This is preposterous!” The dark lord roared, “worse than that attempt to stop me with the halflings, like I wouldn’t know my own…” beneath his helmet he chewed his lip nervously, glancing back and forth between the two fortresses. With a scowl he put Anthony down, turning around to the two armies, who had gone deathly quiet, watching the Dark Lord and Anthony’s duel of wits. “Well?” The lord of shadow demanded, “Did any of you see which one was the fake?”

The massive army of orcs and trolls grumbled and shuffled their feet nervously. The elves and men were similarly confused, muttering to themselves and refusing to answer.

The dark lord sighed, “Fine, it’s…” he looked to the left fortress, and then to the right.

“Get on with it!” one of the orcs shouted.

“Yeah, we don’t have all day!” one of the elves agreed.

The Dark Lord sneered, but began the walk up to the door of the left fortress, “This, surely this is my old lair!” he put his hand on the massive gate, pushing his way in.

“WRONG!” Boxy’s giggling voice rang out. The Dark Lord shouted in panic once, and then there were a series of flashes and sparks from the inside as his magic was drained.

The earth began to quake as the magic energies flowed through the mimic, and the black iron walls of the doomsday fortress fell away, morphing into the curvaceous and towering form. Anthony looked on, and the armies of light and darkness slowly fell back from him as Boxy’s mountainous form loomed over the battlefield, her grinning face beaming down at them.

“I think the good guys win this one,” she boomed, causing the forces of evil to scatter before her massive form. She smirked as she watched them go, and slowly lowered her hand down, shaking the ground as it landed in front of Anthony.

She’s a true goddess, he thought in awe. He grunted as he climbed up the wall of her fingertips, tumbling over into her palm.

She lifted him up, smiling, “We did it,” she said softly, “We saved the day, thanks for helping me turn good.” Her lips, thick and wide as rivers, collided with him like an avalanche, burying him beneath their soft pink kiss and pressing him into the center of her palm.

“J-Just doing my duty,” Anthony stammered, looking up at her in a daze.

The titan sized mimic giggled as she held him against her cheek, and a moment later the world swirled around the pair as a treasure chest the size of a mountain loomed on the horizon, giving the couple privacy to celebrate their victory.