A dress that was meant solely for looks and gliding around at dinner parties making simpering small talk? That was hardly going to be very useful to an adventurer. What? Was she supposed to hang around gloomy monster filled dungeons while sipping tea and trying to strike up polite conversation with giant spiders and cave bears? No that wouldn't do at all.
As such she had forced the unfortunate Harry to make the thing at least somewhat practical. He hadn't been happy about that, having to take a knife to his unfinished creation, shortening the floor length fabric, making it fire and stab proof, and adding, horror of horrors, pockets. He had looked like she just suggested setting fire to an orphanage when she'd demanded pockets and he had resisted stubbornly until she burned one of his eyebrows off.
In the end though, the tailor had found something within her strict limitations… something special… the limits forcing him to go beyond his normal tailoring ability, his creativity elevated. It was obvious to even a layman that the Dress was bypassing current fashion entirely and creating something that would drag all other fashion along with it in its wake as it struck out and broke new ground, a vogue gravity well.
Creation constrained by limitation sometimes gave rise to innovation, and the Dress that had been made was almost ethereal in its inspiration.
The Dress was something the world had never seen before.
She quickly slipped the Dress over her head and then examined it in the mirror. Despite herself she was pleased with how it looked. The fabric was cinched tight around her now smoothed waist before falling down in a skirt that came half the way down her thigh leaving her elegant legs bare below, the excess fabrics coiling on itself in S shapes around her thighs yet remaining flitty and light, flaring outward and hiding her still exposed gape from sight. Above her waist it cupped her indecently round chest with an intricate floral cutout, strapless, her shoulders and neck bare.
A summer dress made formal.
The fabric itself was white. White that had started softly glowing when she put it on and filling the small changing room she was in like a summer's day, the tall mirror she examined herself in redoubling it.
Besides the glow the fabric was threaded with barely visible cotton fine threads of liquid gold shaped into a floral design, trimmed and mirrored with a second floral design in white lace around her bust. The pockets she had ordered were there too, hidden amongst the folds of the skirt, two extra large buttons on each carved from snow white monster ivory, suitable for her adventurer self.
No doubt the Dress was just a loan, after all the tailor's motive was clear in her eyes, she was to be used as an advertising billboard for his business. Obviously. Harry had better hope his work would hold up in battle or his reputation might take on more harm than good.
"Good enough," she muttered, flicking a lock of red hair aside. She had places to be and couldn't be spending all day at this silly Tailor's shop.
--
Harry fidgeted with his fingers, picking and chewing at nails that had seen a lot of picking and chewing as of late.
His eyes drifted from the now bare manikin that had held The Dress to the curtained changing room where the staggeringly beautiful elf, his muse, was putting it on.
She was taking a frustrating amount of time and he felt sure the sheer suspense was going to cause him health issues, health issues apart from the near heart attack the elf had given him when she had turned up appearing pregnant. It had taken her repeatedly telling him she wasn't actually pregnant to calm him, that she was simply wearing special adventurer armour beneath her blouse that looked like a pregnancy. That… made a certain amount of sense he had to admit, it wasn't like the elf could have become so pregnant in a few days. She had told him she would simply remove the armour as she had strode past snatching up the Dress and disappearing into the changing room.
He didn't feel much better if he was honest.
It was just that he had put rather a lot into making this Dress. Okay, more than a lot, he had put his everything into it, he just couldn't bear to see that elf without clothing that would compliment her mind boggling beauty in the most optimal way.
The journey to create the Dress had been an arduous one, not just because of the elf's maddening demands that the Dress be made practical, but also because of the hard to acquire materials he had needed to be able to do that, materials that made his previous most coveted mythril silks look like some beggar's rags.
The core woven from frayed dragon scale was illegal in the extreme and risky to possess, and that was to say nothing of the sketchy dark band he'd sent to plunder the Barrows of the Bardic Barons, a place banned from being even neared by the Adventurers Guild, and anyone else with a lick of sense. The dark band hadn't come back the same, passing him ancient shimmering fabrics made from the gods knew what then leaving and refusing to answer his letters. He hadn't liked what he'd seen in their eyes.
Finally, there had been the ivory buttons, for that he had contracted a mentalist to erase his memory of how he acquired them and what they were made of. It was the only way he had been able to make the visions go away.
He'd worked without sleep until it was done, the various magics carefully woven in, all designed to be optimally powered by the natural ambience of the user's mana, the purer the better.
His hands had hurt by the time he had finished.
Yet all of it had needed to be done, he had zero doubt. His creative drive screamed for it, whipping him to madness, the vision of the Dress clawing its way from his imagination into the world, howling to live, to be made real.
The final thing was worth a very illegal fortune just in the material itself, and he knew it to be a masterpiece beyond masterpieces, a once in a century Dress and something he would never ever come close to replicating again. Such a frantic fever of rabid inspiration would only ever come to him once, if only because he feared the next time it would kill him.
The curtain twitched and he drew in a sharp breath, heartbeat thundering, could his creation match the elf's impossible beauty? Could he live up to his muse?
Ellaria pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the shop.
Harry's heart missed a beat. The Dress was glowing? Why was it glowing?! And her beauty and the Dress and her beauty and the Dress and her beauty and the Dress and her- he caught himself looking between the summery softly glowing Dress and the elf herself over and over, trapped in a cycle that was breaking his brain, making his blood pump, heating his body. What had he created?
The Dress not only complimented her, it magnified her, making her something more. His eyes traveled from top to bottom. She wore nothing but the Dress, apparently forgoing shoes even though he had left various pairs out for her to choose from. He vaguely recalled Elves had a nakedness habit, something inherited from their past, au naturale and barefoot in the woods was the default for an elf.
There had been conversation in the shop, but that was promptly strangled by her emergence. A man fell over a rack of clothing behind Harry as he stared at her, eyes bugging out of his head. Another crashed against the counter knocking the register to the ground in a deafening metallic crash.
Harry was the first to speak, if it could be called speaking.
"Y-y-y-you!"
"Yes? This is the Dress you made for me Harry, what were you expecting?"
"It's w-wasnt m-meant to g-glow- and and, h-how much MORE it makes you-!" he managed to choke out, his one remaining eyebrow lifting as far as it could go.
Ellaria's eyes moved down and narrowed as she saw a small tent being made in the tailor's trousers.
Harry followed her gaze, realised he was publicly erect, and slapped his hands over his shame, blushing bright red.
"Uh- uh- I'm- th-that's!"
"Pathetic." sneered the elf. "Really it's just a Dress, and this is your reaction?"
"J-just a Dress?!? JUST A DRESS?!?" shrieked Harry, "You look- I can't form the words, you're just too much!"
Ellaria scowled, which only made the tailor's trouser tent twitch, and glared past him at the other customers of the shop, every one of them were frozen and staring at her open mouthed, even the women. Every male looking her way was having similar clothing malfunctions as Harry.
She took a step forward, bare feet coming down on carpet.
The shop flinched. A particularly nervous looking lupine teenager shuddered, his eyelids fluttering as he curled over his crotch, a damp patch appearing at the tip of the tent in his shorts.
"Oh don't be ridiculous." snapped Ellaria at the whimpering lupine. She strode past him and shoved open the front door.
Behind her a chorus of pleas went up, begging her to stay.
The street didn't fare much better and Ellaria was met with people popping tents everywhere she stepped or throwing themselves before her and begging to be given a date, or for straight up marriage.
She booted them aside and continued on her way, but the tide of people just seemed to be growing, her dressed form creating a crowded traffic jam by itself and blocking passage.
It got to the point that even fire wasn't scaring her admirers and she was forced to flee into an alley, jumping a few walls before finding a secluded place behind a warehouse.
Annoyed beyond belief she stripped and stowed the Dress in her dimensional bag that had been hooked under the skirt.
She almost walked out into the street stark naked then and there but caught her reflection in a window and realised she had forgotten to replace her clothing after taking it off.
She quickly threw on some more standard adventurey clothes and stormed away.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Flora eyed her teenage competition. They were… annoyingly cheerful.
Most obvious was Tami who was now partly visible, the roof of the three-storey stable having been dismantled and removed. She seemed most content of the teenagers, filled enormously with still hot horse cum, legs lazily swinging back and forth in the air as she perused the many sheets of paper set out over her belly. She occasionally plucked a chocolate from a box to her side and cooed as she read something of particular interest in whatever it was she was reading.
Down below her the stable courtyard had been turned into an open air lounge, strewn with enormous pillows and sheets and silks, furniture taken from indoors and set out with dozens of servants attending.
Flora herself took up a good third of the space, her pregnant belly set upon innumerable luxurious pillows.
Another third was mostly taken up by Tami's teenage friends, Ruby a pink haired wolfkin with obnoxiously dyed pink hair (obviously a tacky copy of a gnome's brilliant natural pink hair), and Sarah a chubby bunnykin with an unusual amount of ear piercings.
The pair of them had apparently been removed from beneath Tami as the stable had been partly dismantled. Both Ruby and Sarah were smaller than Flora and Tami but only in comparison, they were still huge and rounded with cum.
All three of the happy teenagers had just been finished with being bathed by the servants which tended them, their pale taut skin washed and sponged with warm water, their clothing replaced with fluffy white towels that wrapped around their legs and chests.
The both of them, like Tami, also had sheets of paper scattered across their vast cum bellies which they were reading and making pleased sounds, occasionally reciting out loud a particular part which caused the teenagers to giggle and coo.
A number of slim animated ropes rose up the teenagers' bellies, each of them going between their towel wrapped legs where they were tied around lengths of rubber, lengths of colourful rubber that looked suspiciously horse like and were lazily easing in and out of their pussies, a glossy sheen of their juices rolling down their bellies in long rivulets behind their legs.