Chapter 1: The Twin Goddesses
Part 1: The Crimson Goddess
Full-size image here: http://redfiredoglizard.deviantart.com/art/Camilla-1-Dangerous-Curves-443652975
The giantess strode magnificently through the noise of the crowd. Her gilded crimson dress waved in the wind, a cheering crowd standing to the sides of the wide road in front of her. Cybele had reigned as a living Goddess and the Empress of Rome and its colonies for nearly thirty years. Her immense body, over one hundred feet tall, towered over the small houses and temples as she walked through the wide streets of Rome; a tall man might come up to her ankle. A deep rumbling shook the streets as she walked, and her bare feet cracked the cobble and compressed the dirt as she stepped on it. Her full name was Cybele Autusta Caesar, daughter of the first goddess, and the world trembled before her.
Crowds of men stood in awe and lust, barely rising above her feet. Usually they would be expected to bow in front of the goddess, to avert their, gaze lest their unworthy eyes stare upon her godlike visage. But this was a week of celebration, and many unusual things were permitted. The goddess had a curvaceous, womanly figure, with a round behind, thick legs, huge, firm breasts, and a narrow waist. A proud, almost stern expression showed through the thin veil covering the upper part of her face. She still had smooth skin and a dark, youthful beauty that belied her advancing years. Her hair was jet black, long and luscious, running below her tall crown and streaming halfway down her back. She wore a crimson-hued silk dress that showed off her curvaceous figure, with a low-cut blouse that revealed off her ample breasts and left her upper back uncovered. The dress flared below her hips, intricate gilded patterns running down its sides.
The people of Rome believed utterly in her status as a goddess: how could they not? She certainly looked the part, and she would flatten anyone who said otherwise. She faced the falling sun, her long shadow casting much of procession behind her into darkness. The people loved her, lusted for her, and stood in awe of her incredible power. But this day wasn’t about Cybele: it was about her daughters, the princesses. Today, her daughters would ride through the city, in a grand parade through the streets of Rome. Tomorrow, they would become goddesses.
Then, something unexpected happened. A brawl broke out in one of the crowds just in front of the goddess. A dense crowd of drunken Helot serfs, fighting and running, poured into the middle of the road, directly in the path of the giantess. Cybelle noticed their presence, yet she never looked down, and never stopped. To do so, to defer to such insects, would be unthinkable for a goddess. She stepped again. Her feet were twenty feet long and four feet wide: she would likely crush several men with each step. By now all of the men had realized the danger they were in. Most started to run away. She was now close enough that the ground’s shaking made some of the men lose balance and fall. Some of the men ran away, but most were too drunk or too confused to escape in time.
One of the serfs looked up, fearful. He saw her immense legs, tall as trees, yet still delicate and womanly. He saw her undergarments, tight black satin, revealing her most intimate curves. He had always wanted to see the Goddess. Sometimes he would dream of her when he worked in the fields. Her enormous foot, bigger than a horse, was about to come crashing down upon him in a few short seconds. There were worse ways to go. For an instant, the serf smiled. A second later, her foot came crashing down on him, instantly crushing him into goo. The crowd cheered louder—they were loving this.
The Twin Princesses
The beautiful twin princesses, Julia and Livia, rode in on a gigantic platform. It was nearly forty feet by forty feet wide, yet with the two of them reclining on it, there was little extra space; the girls’ fanslaves barely had enough room to walk around. Nearly two hundred slaves held up the platform from beneath, marching in rows of 14 by 14, pushing it along using the metal bars than ran along the bottom of the platform. The slaves’ muscles were strained, their backs aching; it took every ounce of strength they had to hold up the giantesses relaxing on the platform above them.
Normally the sisters tried to stay as far apart from each other as they could. But for the parade, their mother insisted they lied down next to each other. Lying down, Julia was just over twenty five feet long, while her sister, Lidia, was a mere fifteen. The Pale Spice hadn’t had as powerful of an effect on her as it had on her sister.
Cybelle continued to crush her way through the fleeing men in front of her. The princesses, Livia and Julia, watched as they reclined on a bed of huge silk pillows. Julia watched with amusement, Lydia with a kind of sadness. She hated to see anyone get hurt. Still, her mother was the goddess, and those men had sealed their own fates. She couldn’t fault her mother for stepping on those who were foolish enough to stand in her way.
Two male slaves fanned each of the sisters, while another two massaged their feet with oils. Julia sat up slightly and looked toward her sister. Even reclining, she stood as tall as the two slaves that stood at her side. A long caravan of lesser nobility, guards, servants, and slaves stretched on behind the royal family.
“All this fanfare, for little old us?” Julia said playfully to her sister, looking to the huge, cheering crowds around them as slaves fanned them on the platform.
“Of course it is. It’s the first consecration in almost three decades, since mother became a goddess.”
“Tomorrow we’re to become goddesses as well. I imagine the priestesses will declare me ‘Belladonna, goddess of war.’ Or perhaps ‘Minerva, goddess of strategy and just warfare.”
“Like you know anything about justice.” Livia said with a sneer. Livia, always caring and empathetic, hated her sister’s callous, cocky ways. Livia hated to see anyone hurt unjustly, no matter how low their station. Julia was well aware of this fact, and too immense pleasure in “accidentally” stepping on slaves when Livia was around. The sisters were physically as well: Julia was tall, lean and athletic, with narrow hips and midsized, perky breasts. The Spice had made her an imposing figure at 25 feet, with her mother’s face and dark features. At fifteen feet high, Livia was much shorter than her sister. Julia had lighter features and a rounder face, and was well on her way to inheriting her mother’s voluptuous body.
Julia replied, “I don’t claim to be an arbiter of justice, but I certainly know plenty about war. After all this pomp and circumstance is over, I’m looking forward to smashing some of those pathetic German tribesmen. Even their biggest women are small enough for me to crush underfoot—I’ll show them what happens when you anger a goddess! Anyway, at least I’m not too cowardly to participate in the Reaping.”
“I didn’t know crushing unarmed Helot men takes courage.”
“It shouldn’t take much, I’m sure even you could muster it. It’s a tradition, going back to the Spartans. They had these same filth infesting their countryside. Once a year, the new military recruits would hone their skills by heading out into the country, sneaking around, and killing every Helot they could find. At least that way, they can serve some kind of purpose. Goddess knows there isn’t much else they can do well, and there are far too many of the things as it is. And it reminds them of their rightful place.”
“You think their rightful place is to be under your foot,” Livia replied with contempt.
“Yes,” she giggled. ”Sometimes figuratively, sometimes not. We’re royals, after all, heirs to the throne of the goddess. It would be wrong to do anything but savor the greatness of our power. And not just the helot men—all men. Once they were bigger and stronger than us. Do you know what life was like for women then? They oppressed us, used us as whores and child-makers and glorified house slaves. They beat us and controlled us. Now that the Spice has set things right… Who am I to deny my rightful place as a Goddess?”
“You’re not a goddess. Not yet.” Livia was becoming more upset.
“Wait until tomorrow night. The coronation ceremony is soon enough. Then we’ll both be goddesses. I’ll be a goddess of war, and… I wonder what Goddess they’ll pronounce you to be? Larentia, the goddess of prostitution? Fornax, goddess of cooking and the oven? Surely something nice and submissive. It suits you.”
“I’ll be Venus, goddess of love and beauty. I’ll lead with love, compassion, and reason, and my beauty will inspire all to follow me.”
“Always so self-serious. We’ll see. These men… the one good thing about them is, at least most of them at least know their place. They revere us as the goddesses we are. They do whatever we ask of them, they even die for us if we ask them to. Hell, I could pick a dozen Helots from the crowd and shove them all into my pussy right now, and the half that survived would call it an honor. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea… You know, I think I’m going to like being a goddess.”
Julia motioned to one of her slaves, and he brought over a barrel full of grapes to her. The slave reached up and set a bunch of grapes above Julia’s mouth; she wrapped her huge tongue around them, dropped them into her mouth and swallowed.
“You know Livia, as much of a Greco-phile as you are, you ought to listen more to the Spartans. Those Athenian so-called ‘reformists’ will poison your head with their talk of male liberty and equality. What folly! The lioness doesn’t offer liberty to the gazelle. She eats the gazelle, because it pleases her. The men’s place is to feed us, to serve us, to pleasure us. And to die for us, if that pleases us.”
“Perhaps I’m not a lion. Perhaps I’m an elk, or a giraffe, or…”
“Ha! You’re a lion, we all are. The only difference is, some of us don’t try to run from what we are. You’ll realize the pleasure in it soon enough… You haven’t had the Red Spice yet. Besides, it’s good to be a lioness.” The slave leaned over to drop another bunch of grapes in Julia’s mouth. Julia quickly and effortlessly grabbed him by his feet and raised him into the air above her mouth. The slave, terrified, tried to wriggle out of her grasp. “No!” Livia yelled, and tried to snatch the slave away, but Julia grabbed Livia’s wrist and easily held her down. Julia then opened her mouth and dropped the slave in. Her tongue wrapped around his lower body. She closed her mouth, smiled seductively. For a second she almost tried to swallow him whole, something she’d seen her mother do many times. Then, she remembered that she wasn’t big enough to swallow a full-grown man whole. Not yet. Instead, mouth closed, she chewed him as one would an unusually tough piece of steak. Several seconds later, she swallowed.
“You monster! What did he do to deserve that?”” Livia said to her sister, a look of shock and disdain in her eyes. Julia flashed a mischievous grin, showing off her bloody teeth. She licked her mouth clean and smiled again towards the crowd.
The crowd cheered more loudly than ever. Cybele continued walking, either not noticing or not caring about the display behind her. Julia’s foot slaves hesitated for a moment, staring at her, then looked down, frightened, and continued massaging her feet. Her second fan slave, however, just stood there, stunned, staring at her with obvious lust. A small erection showed through his loincloth.
“See? They love it. Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and nothing’s more powerful than a goddess of destruction. Every man out there would do anything just to touch me. Even if it means that afterwards, they’d have to be crushed under our feet. Or our tits...”
Julia smiled seductively at the stunned slave.
“Can you understand me, slave? No response. You don’t even speak the common tongue. You’d give anything to pleasure me right now, wouldn’t you? But this isn’t the most appropriate place, I’m afraid. Besides, only female concubines are allowed to touch the womanhood of a goddess and live. But I know something else I know I’d like…”
Julia gently picked up the man, reclining, and slipped him under her blouse, between her breasts. This one didn’t put up any fight. He laid there, his hesitance overcome by his lust for the beautiful giantess who held him between her bosoms. The goddess pressed her breasts together. Her perky breasts were proportionately a small c-cup, yet with her immense size, they were large enough to wrap around most of his body. The crowd cheered loudly at the spectacle.
“Let him go!”
“Why? I want to feel the pleasure of crushing him between these firm tits. I want to feel his skull pop, his ribs crack, his blood run down my sides! Have you never taken a man’s life? “
“Never! If nothing else, it’s a waste.”
“Ha! A waste of what? Of money? Mother owns almost 100,000 slaves. A tenth of those work around the palace. If I got drunk and decided to kill all of them, mother would just buy another 100,000 tomorrow. And it’s not like mother has any problem with killing them, I’ve seen her eat more men in a meal than I’ve killed in all my life!”
“That’s different. She doesn’t do it out of pleasure…”
“But she does. She always has. And so do I.”
Julia applied a bit more force, pressing her breasts together. They spilled out of her blouse, looking bigger and more beautiful than before. The slave’s body compressed, and there was a faint cracking noise. He made a squelching sound as his face twisted into a bizarre expression. Whether it was pain or pleasure, or a bit of both, was hard to tell.
“It’s the best feeling there is. Holding a person’s existence in your hands, knowing that you could end their life with the smallest effort, making them think you might show them mercy… and then crushing them anyway!”
Suddenly, Julia pressed as hard as she could. Her wiry arms were much stronger than they looked: even for her size, Julia had an incredible physical strength. Even through the softness of her breasts, the force was far more than enough to eviscerate him. “Bones were crushed and blood flew through the air, splattering the crowd. The crimson liquid ran down the sides of her breasts and onto her dress. “Mmmmm…,” she sighed, looking utterly satisfied.” She sat up and blew a kiss toward the crowd. The crowd went wild. Men cheered and tried to press on past the guards.
“They love it. The more you crush them, the more you force them to submit to you, the more they want you. Right now, every man in this crowd would do anything I asked of them.”
Julia watched as the crowd continued to cheer for her sister’s violent display. Maybe, she thought in spite of herself, her sister was right. Maybe power and destruction was her birthright. After all, she would soon be a goddess.