Holding onto the bottom of Clover's skirt was no easy task. Although living in a world where surviving day in and day out among titaness's has helpfully shaped your muscle mass, you were still no match for gravity as the skirt dangled precariously above the ground, as your shaky hold threatens to either send you flying off, or slam you into the grootslang's legs. Looking up towards Lockette, you see her glance in your direction before looking back towards Clover and continuing the conversation with her, probably to buy you some time to figure out a plan.
Unfortunately, your options boiled down to "Fall", "Yell" or "Hide", and there weren't many places to hide on the underside of a grootslang's skirt...unless...no, you couldn't...but...maybe you could...
After much deliberation, you decide that, much to your chagrin, you were going to have to hide in the underwear of the grootslang, and groan. It wasn't pretty, for sure, but it was so large you could probably hide in there without her knowing...then again, she was a grootslang, and the elephant part of her really did show in the weight department. Looking up at her panties, they seem to be a little too thin for her...but too late to turn back now, as you're already climbing up the skirt. You'll work out how exactly you'll get in once you get there.
Unfortunately, while you're still about 20 feet away from your hideaway, Clover wraps up the conversation, and she's suddenly moving, setting her skirt and legs into motion. Grasping the fabric as tightly as possible, you continue to climb, nearly losing your grasp and falling before grabbing on again, and continuing upwards. The mere movement of the skirt itself was threatening to give you whiplash as you scaled it, but finally, you found yourself hovering near...the grootslang's titanic rump.
Sure, it wasn't pretty, but it was a hell of a lot better then crawling in the front end...imagine being caught there...you shudder with the thought. Although really, hiding in what is essentially her gigantic crack isn't a prettier option, but it's too late to change your mind anyway. Although you realize now that her panties are...really, ridiculously tight on her. The way they dug into her crack, leaving her cheeks totally exposed, made you begin to regret your decision, but there was no time to find an alternative as your arms felt like they were at their limit, so with a sigh, you let go of the skirt and fall.
Landing on the side of her cheek with a thud, you slide in between them and towards the lip of her panties, and grasp it, feeling accomplished for having managed to grab onto it. From there, you adjust yourself and stick your legs between her body and the underwear, and try to slip inside. This is...easier said than done. The apparent tightness of the underwear wasn't an exaggeration, you were actually struggling to separate it from her body enough to slip inside. But with a bit of work, you manage, and with a cartoonish pop they snap back to her body as your head finally goes through, and you begin to slide down the green, clover-patterned fabric.
Although you knew that this ride was gonna be unpleasant, you weren't entirely prepared for how unpleasant. As it turns out, not very pleasant. You were afforded some room to stand near the "base" of the panties, but the ride was still quite tight, with you constantly bumping your head into the roof of Clover's bum as the underwear moved around in line with her legs. Even as you sat down to avoid that, you were attacked with quite the musky stench that made you nearly throw up. The distinctly male part of your brain hoped getting in a monster girls pants would be a more pleasant experience, but as it were, it was unbearably hot, smelly, and uncomfortable. Honestly, you weren't entirely sure why you thought this was a good idea in the first place, but at the very least, Clover doesn't seem to have noticed you.
Laying down and closing your eyes, you try and wait until the opportunity to get out of there presents itself, but it's unsurprisingly difficult to tell where you were from within the cotton prison, and it was just as easy to lose track of time. As minutes turned into hours, you eventually pass out, either from being exhausted or from the smell managing to incapacitate you.
Some time later, you begin to wake up, as fresh air manages to find your lungs, and you look around, dazed and confused. You could see the gigantic grootslang's undergarments being slid off her body, sliding down her legs with her massive, elephant fingers. Looking around, you wonder just where you managed to find yourself?
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