A Strange Dream

The Great Coliseum was filled with people, more than Livia had ever seen before. Princesses and peons alike awaited the games, all of them energized by the bright afternoon sun. They said that that the coliseum could fit a million people, but Livia thought it looked there were even more than that here today. Below her were countless slaves and laborers, packed together tightly, pushing and jostling each other around. Above were Matriarchs, the descendants of Rome’s ruling Patrician class: wealthy women of great power, great wealth and often great size. Cybele, Goddess Empress of Rome, towered over all of them, sitting in her specially made throne that was set at the top of the arena. Around her were various important dignitaries, wealthy governesses and influential politicians. Some of them were nearly as tall as Cybele. In Rome, you could get a rough idea of a woman’s wealth by looking at their height. Judging by the size of these women, they were all quite important. 

Cybele’s daughter, princess Livia, wanted to be sitting with these important dignitaries and governesses. She wanted to speak with them and learn about the state of Rome and the colonies. But Cybele saw fit to seat Livia on the lower deck of the upper tier. Livia shared a crowded flat couch with several young noblewomen, each of whom were much taller than Livia. It was tradition in Rome for women of different families to share a single couch at these gatherings, a tradition that Livia was less than fond of. The two women to Livia’s right had been making out for the better part of the hour, rolling over as they kissed and elbowing Livia as they did so. ‘At least I don’t have to talk to them,’ Livia thought. The woman on her left wasn’t quite as bad, but she made horrible slurping sounds as she swallowed one live monkey after another. And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, someone worse appeared. Livia saw a man standing on the ground below her couch. She recognized him instantly: Follis, the man she was slated to wed one day. 

Noble women in Rome were married off to noble men, but noble men were difficult to find. For unknown reasons, children of the lower castes were almost entirely boys. But wealthy women, who were able to afford the Red Spice, had almost exclusively female children. Noblemen of high birth were thus considered valuable commodities, even if they were still considered far lower than females. They were able to get away with things that most slaves would never dream of trying. And one day, if they were lucky, they might have the chance to impregnate a noblewoman. The marriages tended to be very short-lived, and it was almost unheard of for these noblemen to survive their wedding night. At the very least, they could expect a shattered pelvis. 

Follis was descended from some wealthy noble family, though neither Livia nor Follis knew which family. It was considered shameful for a noblewoman to birth a man, and the lineages of their descendants were thus kept secret. At any rate Follis was first in line to marry Livia, though there were others behind him if anything happened. 

This meant she was expected to one day have sex with him, a fact that he was extremely fond of reminding her about. As for the ‘not surviving the wedding night’ thing… well, Follis didn’t seem to really get that part, or at least didn’t care. He wasn’t known for his intelligence. He was, at least, an impressive physical specimen. Like many noble men expose to the spice had aided his growth. He stood over seven feet tall, strong and muscular, with a square jaw. Livia might have even been attracted to him, if she could overlook how stupid looking his face looked. Well, that and his personality. Although, when she was in the right mood, Livia found their one-sided verbal spars amusing.

“So, I know we’re not married, yet, but if you want to, you know…” Follis said, moving his hands around oddly. Livia assumed that it was supposed to be some kind of obscene gesture, but it didn’t resemble any kind of sex act that existed outside of Follis’ head. 

“Follis, you may have high blood, and you’re first in line to bed me, but mother has about a dozen suitors lined up behind you, and I’m far fonder of all of them than I am of you. All it would take is one little accident and ‘whoops!’ I guess it’s onto highborn suitor number two. I’m sure mother would understand. After all, Julia’s on her fourth suitor now? Wait, sorry, I mean fourteenth. I’m getting behind schedule. Let’s hope I don’t forget you’re standing there and accidentally sit down on you.”

“Well,” said Follis with a self-satisfied smile, “you sitting on my face doesn’t sound so bad.”

“It does, when you consider I weight a ton. As in a literal ton. Well, a bit more than that, actually. Your skull would look like a pumpkin after the toss. No one would suspect it was anything other than an innocent accident, and even if they did, no one would care.”

“So the princess of peace and enlightenment is talking about wanting to smash my face in now? I thought you didn’t believe in hurting us poor little men?”

“Men being the operative term there, I’m afraid. I’m not sure exactly what you are, but a man isn’t it.”

“You’ve never killed anybody. You can talk all you want, Biggus Breastus, but I know you’d never actually hurt me.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, placing her large hand around his shoulder. “But I don’t know if you want to test that right now. You know, it might be fun. I’m feeling a bit hungry… I bet you’d taste great.”

“Yeah, well, um…”

“Yes. That’s right. ‘Well um.’ Now leave me in peace. I’m enjoying the game.” 

She actually wasn’t: Livia hated combat. It was much too violent, and she loathed seeing all those poor gladiators get killed. Thankfully, out of decency, fear or boredom, Follis wandered off. For a second, Livia fantasized about crushing Follis. She imagined her foot, bigger than his head, coming down on top of his upper body. She pictured herself shifting her weight onto the foot, crushing his head flat against the ground. It was a grisly image, but the thought amused her.

Of all the hundreds of millions of people in the world, why, she thought, did it have to be him? She wished her boyfriend Aureus could be there with her instead. She’d arranged for Aureus to be delivered to her during the games, but he hadn’t arrived up yet. Livia wondered if something had gone wrong. ‘No,’ she thought, ‘I’m sure he’s okay. He has to be okay.

Livia looked over at the Matriarchs who were lying next to her. Aside from the Royal Guards stationed in front of her, there was little to differentiate Livia from these lower noblewomen, a fact that displeased Livia. ‘Cybele treats me like I’m twelve,’ thought Livia. ‘The people love me, as do the Matriarchs. But soon I’ll be declared a Goddess, and perhaps Cybele will be wise enough to make me the next Empress. I can make the people love me in a way that Julia never could.

‘But then again, for an Empress, what’s love without respect? A sword without a hilt. I need to be a strong ruler. Not strength like my twin sister Julia has. Her strength is like iron, cold and cruel and lacerating. No,’ thought Livia, ‘I’ll have to find another kind of strength.

‘After I have the Red Spice, though, everything will change. They’ll declare me a Goddess. They people will worship me, as they do Cybele and Juno. I’ll have an entire church devoted to myself, with millions of men and women utterly devoted to me. They’ll offer everything to me: their gold, their bodies, their very lives. And I’ll be a merciful goddess, and reward my followers greatly.

‘But what is it,’ thought Livia, ‘to be a goddess?’ When Livia was young, she believed the stories wholly and entirely. She thought back to the stories. Juno was granted immense power by the heavens, and became something more than a woman. She became Goddess of Rome and its people, with beauty and power and glory immense. The people stood in awe of her, worshipped her, as was only right for them to do. They sacrificed themselves to please her, for their small lives were nothing before her greatness. To repay their gratitude, she brought great riches to Rome, and crushed the enemies of the Empire. Juno birthed a single daughter, Cybele, who became a goddess nearly as great as herself. 

Then Juno died, as all Romans know, for even a Goddess must die one day. Yet though her body was dead, as the stories went, she lived on. For it was the day of her death that Juno was reborn as a true Goddess, one far greater and more powerful than she had been even in life. She ruled from a great throne in the clouds, high above Mount Olympus. All the women in Juno’s line would follow in her footsteps, becoming goddesses in life as well as death. 

And so it would go on, until one day a Great Enemy would arise. On that day, the goddesses would come down onto the mortal plane, and their footsteps would crack the very foundations of the earth. A battle would ensue between these giants, and the great cities of the earth would be trampled under the footsteps of these goddesses. In the end, the faithful said, the goddesses would prevail.

That was the story that they told, and it was shouted with great conviction by every Priestess in the Empire. It was the story that Livia had been told since she was a young child, and one that she once believed in with all her heart. Yet as Livia grew older, her confidence began to wane, and soon she found herself doubting the stories. What made Juno or Cybele any different from any of the other Matriarchs? What if Juno wasn’t reborn in the heavens? These questions nagged at Livia. Livia felt like a princess, but not a goddess, and she wasn’t sure if any spice could chance that. Maybe, thought Livia, the Red Spice wasn’t any more magical than Pepper or Paprika. Then again, Paprika didn’t make you grow to enormous heights. The Spice did. Even if couldn’t grant everlasting life, it could grant immense size. And size, thought Livia, was power.

The Dream

Livia, feeling sleepy, tried to imagine what it would be like after she started to have the Red Spice. She pictured herself in the white glory of the great temple, surrounded by countless worshippers. Her eyes closed, and the softness of the couch pulled her away from the clamor of the coliseum. 

The sights and sounds of the Coliseum faded away, and the images in her mind became more real. She was drinking the Red Spice from a heavy gold cup, the glowing red crystals of the spice dissolved in a dark merlot. She felt the warmth of the spice engulfing her, surrounding her, like they said it did. In her dream, she pictured a powerful sensation overtaking her. And as that happened she felt herself growing, felt herself becoming bustier and fuller as she grew taller. It happened slowly at first. Her blouse felt tighter, then her panties, then her robe,. The fabric of her clothes stretched, then ripped, and soon her robe and undergarments were torn and lying in a pile below her on the floor. And she felt herself growing, faster now, the sensation of warmth becoming more and more powerful. At first it didn’t feel like she was getting bigger, not exactly; it felt like the world around her was growing smaller. The men around her came up past her knees only a few short moments ago, but seemed to be shrinking smaller and smaller.

She was growing, becoming not just taller, she realized, but more massive. Her height had more than doubled by now, but her weight had increased twenty-fold. Her arms and legs felt heavy. For a second she felt as if she couldn’t bear her own weight, until she realized that the strength of her muscles and bones had grown twenty-fold as well. 

She felt an incredible strength within her, and Livia became aware of how powerful she was. She was still growing, and she grew bustier and fuller as she grew taller. Livia felt her breasts becoming huge and heavy. She felt her body growing heavier, far heavier, and she heard the hard tiles of the temple floor cracking beneath her weight. She looked down, and suddenly noticed the hundreds of men that were gathered around her. Though they were grown men they looked smaller than mice to her. To her amazement they hadn’t tried to run: the stood there, staring up at her with stunned silence. 

As she grew, Livia felt something else: hunger. Livia bent over. Without fully realizing what she was doing, Livia felt herself grabbing one man, than another, and stuffing them into her mouth. Bent over, she grabbed them up by the handfuls as she walked around, not watching her footsteps. The men didn’t make any attempt to run, or even move out of the way. They barely seemed to react at all. There was something strange about them, but Livia didn’t stop to think. Instead, she bent over again to grab some more. She was still growing larger: now she could scoop up a dozen men or more with each hand. She tossed them into her mouth and swallowed greedily, one after another. In the dream, questions of morality didn’t even occur to her: she simply liked the way they squirmed as they fell down her throat.

She grabbed another man, but as she was about to toss him into her mouth, she heard him call “Livia!” and she recognized his voice. Livia looked down at the man, and instantly recognized his golden hair: it was her boyfriend, Aureus. “Livia,” he called out, “please, I love you!”

Livia said nothing, her big eyes looking down at Aureus full of sympathy. Livia didn’t want to hurt him, but she was so, so hungry… His tiny eyes stared back at her. “I’m sorry, love,” she said, and tossed him down her mouth. And as a tear welled up in her right eye, she swallowed Livia felt the vibration from his muffled screams as he was pushed down her throat, and it felt good. ‘It’s okay,’ Livia told herself, not believing it. ‘He’s… part of me now. He’ll always be with me. He’s…. No… No…”

But then, a powerful sensation of pleasure went through Livia. As much as it hurt that Aureus was gone, the pleasure was enough to make her forget. Eating him felt good. Livia, for a moment, was satisfied.

“Livia!” “Livia!” “Livia!” Livia heard a thousand voices calling her from down below. She looked into the crowd, and saw hundreds of men standing there, staring up at her. And then she noticed what had been strange about them. Each of them had the same long, golden hair. Each of them had the same color of skin, the same body, the same voice. Each of them, she realized with horror, was Aureus. 

“Aureus,” she called out… And just then, she felt herself growing, much faster than before. Each second the men looked tinier and tinier, yet still she grew. Her long legs felt strange as they grew, and the ground below her seemed to be falling away as she grew upward. Livia lost her footing, and felt herself stumble. Her feet came crashing down upon the crowd, crushing dozens of the identical men. A shock of terror went through Livia, and yet a part of her liked the way it felt to crush them. A part of her wanted more. She tried to stop, but found her feet coming down again, then again, each time leaving a bloody crater in the temple floor. She tried to stop herself, but it was no use.

Livia felt herself growing even faster now, and the walls of the temple were growing tight. She felt her head crashing through the temple ceiling, and a moment later the temple itself seemed no larger than a child’s plaything. She grew again. Her already large breasts had grown to be so huge that she could scarcely have held them up now with both hands. The city of Rome stood before her, in all its glory, and yet it looked so small, so delicate. Livia saw its streets were teeming with people. She tried to stand still, but a strange impulse was driving her forward. Her feet were as wide as the temple now. One step, and she felt a square of buildings crushed to nothingness below her feet. Another, and she felt a crowded marketplace crushed into the ground below her. She heard hundreds of voices screaming out, their voices squelched as her foot came down upon them. And the destruction horrified Livia, but what horrified her most was something else: she liked it, she realized. She was enjoying this. 

Livia threw her body down upon Rome, in agony and ecstasy. She felt thousands of buildings crushed below her, leaving an outline of her curvaceous body on the city streets, painted in blood and death and destruction. And she felt so many lives ending. Ten thousand lives being ended by her immense tits alone as they crashed down, destroying every building that lied under them. Part of her wanted so badly to stop. But as terrible as the destruction was, it all felt so good.

But then she felt a new sensation, at first deep in her abdomen, and then between her legs. It wasn’t lust, or at least wasn’t only lust. It was a hunger, the likes of which Livia had never felt before. The hunger was growing greater and greater, and with it the pain, until soon the pain was too much for her. She writhed in agony. Livia tried to ease the pain by pleasuring herself, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. And then she felt another pain, a stranger pain, and yet this one too was tinged with pleasure. She felt her body changing, felt her stomach twisting. And she felt something else. It was growing deep inside of her, something with a terrible hunger and terrible power. Something that could come to control her, maybe even come to destroy her. Yet she wanted it more than anything else. Livia she felt a pain worse than any she had felt before. And in her dream, she screamed. 

Livia woke up in a cold sweat, and felt sick to her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she had actually screamed or not. ‘But what,’ she thought, ‘was that dream about?’ Livia thought of Aureus. She would never hurt Aureus. She would never hurt anyone, for that matter, not unless she had no choice. ‘Well... perhaps,’ thought Livia, ‘if they were enemies of Rome, or if they had committed a crime, or maybe, just maybe, if they had offered themselves to her freely as a sacrifice. But still,’ she told herself, ‘I would not enjoy it. And not Aureus. Never Aureus.’ She remembered how sick she had felt after executing the interloper in the baths. But in the dream, it all felt so good. 


Livia watched the arena below, trying to forget about the dream. The gladiatrix picked up a live elephant with both hands, throwing it into a group of gladiators. The elephant rolled along its side, knocking down gladiators like bowling pins. While the men were still lying on the ground, the gladiatrix stomped on them. Her feet came down on top of them, one after another, the weight of her body crushing them like bugs. Livia cringed at the slaughter. ‘What a waste,’ she thought, disgusted. ‘How cruel,’ thought Livia, ‘to force men to participate in such barbarity!’ But what really disgusted her was something else. Part of her, she realized, was starting to enjoy the bloodshed.

The Great Coliseum was filled with people, more than Livia had ever seen before. Princesses and peons alike awaited the games, all of them energized by the bright afternoon sun. They said that that the coliseum could fit a million people, but Livia thought it looked there were even more than that here today. Below her were countless slaves and laborers, packed together tightly, pushing and jostling each other around. Above were Matriarchs, the descendants of Rome’s ruling Patrician class: wealthy women of great power, great wealth and often great size. Cybele, Goddess Empress of Rome, towered over all of them, sitting in her specially made throne that was set at the top of the arena. Around her were various important dignitaries, wealthy governesses and influential politicians. Some of them were nearly as tall as Cybele. In Rome, you could get a rough idea of a woman’s wealth by looking at their height. Judging by the size of these women, they were all quite important. 

Cybele’s daughter, princess Livia, wanted to be sitting with these important dignitaries and governesses. She wanted to speak with them and learn about the state of Rome and the colonies. But Cybele saw fit to seat Livia on the lower deck of the upper tier. Livia shared a crowded flat couch with several young noblewomen, each of whom were much taller than Livia. It was tradition in Rome for women of different families to share a single couch at these gatherings, a tradition that Livia was less than fond of. The two women to Livia’s right had been making out for the better part of the hour, rolling over as they kissed and elbowing Livia as they did so. ‘At least I don’t have to talk to them,’ Livia thought. The woman on her left wasn’t quite as bad, but she made horrible slurping sounds as she swallowed one live monkey after another. And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, someone worse appeared. Livia saw a man standing on the ground below her couch. She recognized him instantly: Follis, the man she was slated to wed one day. 

Noble women in Rome were married off to noble men, but noble men were difficult to find. For unknown reasons, children of the lower castes were almost entirely boys. But wealthy women, who were able to afford the Red Spice, had almost exclusively female children. Noblemen of high birth were thus considered valuable commodities, even if they were still considered far lower than females. They were able to get away with things that most slaves would never dream of trying. And one day, if they were lucky, they might have the chance to impregnate a noblewoman. The marriages tended to be very short-lived, and it was almost unheard of for these noblemen to survive their wedding night. At the very least, they could expect a shattered pelvis. 

Follis was descended from some wealthy noble family, though neither Livia nor Follis knew which family. It was considered shameful for a noblewoman to birth a man, and the lineages of their descendants were thus kept secret. At any rate Follis was first in line to marry Livia, though there were others behind him if anything happened. 

This meant she was expected to one day have sex with him, a fact that he was extremely fond of reminding her about. As for the ‘not surviving the wedding night’ thing… well, Follis didn’t seem to really get that part, or at least didn’t care. He wasn’t known for his intelligence. He was, at least, an impressive physical specimen. Like many noble men expose to the spice had aided his growth. He stood over seven feet tall, strong and muscular, with a square jaw. Livia might have even been attracted to him, if she could overlook how stupid looking his face looked. Well, that and his personality. Although, when she was in the right mood, Livia found their one-sided verbal spars amusing.

“So, I know we’re not married, yet, but if you want to, you know…” Follis said, moving his hands around oddly. Livia assumed that it was supposed to be some kind of obscene gesture, but it didn’t resemble any kind of sex act that existed outside of Follis’ head. 

“Follis, you may have high blood, and you’re first in line to bed me, but mother has about a dozen suitors lined up behind you, and I’m far fonder of all of them than I am of you. All it would take is one little accident and ‘whoops!’ I guess it’s onto highborn suitor number two. I’m sure mother would understand. After all, Julia’s on her fourth suitor now? Wait, sorry, I mean fourteenth. I’m getting behind schedule. Let’s hope I don’t forget you’re standing there and accidentally sit down on you.”

“Well,” said Follis with a self-satisfied smile, “you sitting on my face doesn’t sound so bad.”

“It does, when you consider I weight a ton. As in a literal ton. Well, a bit more than that, actually. Your skull would look like a pumpkin after the toss. No one would suspect it was anything other than an innocent accident, and even if they did, no one would care.”

“So the princess of peace and enlightenment is talking about wanting to smash my face in now? I thought you didn’t believe in hurting us poor little men?”

“Men being the operative term there, I’m afraid. I’m not sure exactly what you are, but a man isn’t it.”

“You’ve never killed anybody. You can talk all you want, Biggus Breastus, but I know you’d never actually hurt me.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, placing her large hand around his shoulder. “But I don’t know if you want to test that right now. You know, it might be fun. I’m feeling a bit hungry… I bet you’d taste great.”

“Yeah, well, um…”

“Yes. That’s right. ‘Well um.’ Now leave me in peace. I’m enjoying the game.” 

She actually wasn’t: Livia hated combat. It was much too violent, and she loathed seeing all those poor gladiators get killed. Thankfully, out of decency, fear or boredom, Follis wandered off. For a second, Livia fantasized about crushing Follis. She imagined her foot, bigger than his head, coming down on top of his upper body. She pictured herself shifting her weight onto the foot, crushing his head flat against the ground. It was a grisly image, but the thought amused her.

Of all the hundreds of millions of people in the world, why, she thought, did it have to be him? She wished her boyfriend Aureus could be there with her instead. She’d arranged for Aureus to be delivered to her during the games, but he hadn’t arrived up yet. Livia wondered if something had gone wrong. ‘No,’ she thought, ‘I’m sure he’s okay. He has to be okay.

Livia looked over at the Matriarchs who were lying next to her. Aside from the Royal Guards stationed in front of her, there was little to differentiate Livia from these lower noblewomen, a fact that displeased Livia. ‘Cybele treats me like I’m twelve,’ thought Livia. ‘The people love me, as do the Matriarchs. But soon I’ll be declared a Goddess, and perhaps Cybele will be wise enough to make me the next Empress. I can make the people love me in a way that Julia never could.

‘But then again, for an Empress, what’s love without respect? A sword without a hilt. I need to be a strong ruler. Not strength like my twin sister Julia has. Her strength is like iron, cold and cruel and lacerating. No,’ thought Livia, ‘I’ll have to find another kind of strength.

‘After I have the Red Spice, though, everything will change. They’ll declare me a Goddess. They people will worship me, as they do Cybele and Juno. I’ll have an entire church devoted to myself, with millions of men and women utterly devoted to me. They’ll offer everything to me: their gold, their bodies, their very lives. And I’ll be a merciful goddess, and reward my followers greatly.

‘But what is it,’ thought Livia, ‘to be a goddess?’ When Livia was young, she believed the stories wholly and entirely. She thought back to the stories. Juno was granted immense power by the heavens, and became something more than a woman. She became Goddess of Rome and its people, with beauty and power and glory immense. The people stood in awe of her, worshipped her, as was only right for them to do. They sacrificed themselves to please her, for their small lives were nothing before her greatness. To repay their gratitude, she brought great riches to Rome, and crushed the enemies of the Empire. Juno birthed a single daughter, Cybele, who became a goddess nearly as great as herself. 

Then Juno died, as all Romans know, for even a Goddess must die one day. Yet though her body was dead, as the stories went, she lived on. For it was the day of her death that Juno was reborn as a true Goddess, one far greater and more powerful than she had been even in life. She ruled from a great throne in the clouds, high above Mount Olympus. All the women in Juno’s line would follow in her footsteps, becoming goddesses in life as well as death. 

And so it would go on, until one day a Great Enemy would arise. On that day, the goddesses would come down onto the mortal plane, and their footsteps would crack the very foundations of the earth. A battle would ensue between these giants, and the great cities of the earth would be trampled under the footsteps of these goddesses. In the end, the faithful said, the goddesses would prevail.

That was the story that they told, and it was shouted with great conviction by every Priestess in the Empire. It was the story that Livia had been told since she was a young child, and one that she once believed in with all her heart. Yet as Livia grew older, her confidence began to wane, and soon she found herself doubting the stories. What made Juno or Cybele any different from any of the other Matriarchs? What if Juno wasn’t reborn in the heavens? These questions nagged at Livia. Livia felt like a princess, but not a goddess, and she wasn’t sure if any spice could chance that. Maybe, thought Livia, the Red Spice wasn’t any more magical than Pepper or Paprika. Then again, Paprika didn’t make you grow to enormous heights. The Spice did. Even if couldn’t grant everlasting life, it could grant immense size. And size, thought Livia, was power.

The Dream

Livia, feeling sleepy, tried to imagine what it would be like after she started to have the Red Spice. She pictured herself in the white glory of the great temple, surrounded by countless worshippers. Her eyes closed, and the softness of the couch pulled her away from the clamor of the coliseum. 

The sights and sounds of the Coliseum faded away, and the images in her mind became more real. She was drinking the Red Spice from a heavy gold cup, the glowing red crystals of the spice dissolved in a dark merlot. She felt the warmth of the spice engulfing her, surrounding her, like they said it did. In her dream, she pictured a powerful sensation overtaking her. And as that happened she felt herself growing, felt herself becoming bustier and fuller as she grew taller. It happened slowly at first. Her blouse felt tighter, then her panties, then her robe,. The fabric of her clothes stretched, then ripped, and soon her robe and undergarments were torn and lying in a pile below her on the floor. And she felt herself growing, faster now, the sensation of warmth becoming more and more powerful. At first it didn’t feel like she was getting bigger, not exactly; it felt like the world around her was growing smaller. The men around her came up past her knees only a few short moments ago, but seemed to be shrinking smaller and smaller.

She was growing, becoming not just taller, she realized, but more massive. Her height had more than doubled by now, but her weight had increased twenty-fold. Her arms and legs felt heavy. For a second she felt as if she couldn’t bear her own weight, until she realized that the strength of her muscles and bones had grown twenty-fold as well. 

She felt an incredible strength within her, and Livia became aware of how powerful she was. She was still growing, and she grew bustier and fuller as she grew taller. Livia felt her breasts becoming huge and heavy. She felt her body growing heavier, far heavier, and she heard the hard tiles of the temple floor cracking beneath her weight. She looked down, and suddenly noticed the hundreds of men that were gathered around her. Though they were grown men they looked smaller than mice to her. To her amazement they hadn’t tried to run: the stood there, staring up at her with stunned silence. 

As she grew, Livia felt something else: hunger. Livia bent over. Without fully realizing what she was doing, Livia felt herself grabbing one man, than another, and stuffing them into her mouth. Bent over, she grabbed them up by the handfuls as she walked around, not watching her footsteps. The men didn’t make any attempt to run, or even move out of the way. They barely seemed to react at all. There was something strange about them, but Livia didn’t stop to think. Instead, she bent over again to grab some more. She was still growing larger: now she could scoop up a dozen men or more with each hand. She tossed them into her mouth and swallowed greedily, one after another. In the dream, questions of morality didn’t even occur to her: she simply liked the way they squirmed as they fell down her throat.

She grabbed another man, but as she was about to toss him into her mouth, she heard him call “Livia!” and she recognized his voice. Livia looked down at the man, and instantly recognized his golden hair: it was her boyfriend, Aureus. “Livia,” he called out, “please, I love you!”

Livia said nothing, her big eyes looking down at Aureus full of sympathy. Livia didn’t want to hurt him, but she was so, so hungry… His tiny eyes stared back at her. “I’m sorry, love,” she said, and tossed him down her mouth. And as a tear welled up in her right eye, she swallowed Livia felt the vibration from his muffled screams as he was pushed down her throat, and it felt good. ‘It’s okay,’ Livia told herself, not believing it. ‘He’s… part of me now. He’ll always be with me. He’s…. No… No…”

But then, a powerful sensation of pleasure went through Livia. As much as it hurt that Aureus was gone, the pleasure was enough to make her forget. Eating him felt good. Livia, for a moment, was satisfied.

“Livia!” “Livia!” “Livia!” Livia heard a thousand voices calling her from down below. She looked into the crowd, and saw hundreds of men standing there, staring up at her. And then she noticed what had been strange about them. Each of them had the same long, golden hair. Each of them had the same color of skin, the same body, the same voice. Each of them, she realized with horror, was Aureus. 

“Aureus,” she called out… And just then, she felt herself growing, much faster than before. Each second the men looked tinier and tinier, yet still she grew. Her long legs felt strange as they grew, and the ground below her seemed to be falling away as she grew upward. Livia lost her footing, and felt herself stumble. Her feet came crashing down upon the crowd, crushing dozens of the identical men. A shock of terror went through Livia, and yet a part of her liked the way it felt to crush them. A part of her wanted more. She tried to stop, but found her feet coming down again, then again, each time leaving a bloody crater in the temple floor. She tried to stop herself, but it was no use.

Livia felt herself growing even faster now, and the walls of the temple were growing tight. She felt her head crashing through the temple ceiling, and a moment later the temple itself seemed no larger than a child’s plaything. She grew again. Her already large breasts had grown to be so huge that she could scarcely have held them up now with both hands. The city of Rome stood before her, in all its glory, and yet it looked so small, so delicate. Livia saw its streets were teeming with people. She tried to stand still, but a strange impulse was driving her forward. Her feet were as wide as the temple now. One step, and she felt a square of buildings crushed to nothingness below her feet. Another, and she felt a crowded marketplace crushed into the ground below her. She heard hundreds of voices screaming out, their voices squelched as her foot came down upon them. And the destruction horrified Livia, but what horrified her most was something else: she liked it, she realized. She was enjoying this. 

Livia threw her body down upon Rome, in agony and ecstasy. She felt thousands of buildings crushed below her, leaving an outline of her curvaceous body on the city streets, painted in blood and death and destruction. And she felt so many lives ending. Ten thousand lives being ended by her immense tits alone as they crashed down, destroying every building that lied under them. Part of her wanted so badly to stop. But as terrible as the destruction was, it all felt so good.

But then she felt a new sensation, at first deep in her abdomen, and then between her legs. It wasn’t lust, or at least wasn’t only lust. It was a hunger, the likes of which Livia had never felt before. The hunger was growing greater and greater, and with it the pain, until soon the pain was too much for her. She writhed in agony. Livia tried to ease the pain by pleasuring herself, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. And then she felt another pain, a stranger pain, and yet this one too was tinged with pleasure. She felt her body changing, felt her stomach twisting. And she felt something else. It was growing deep inside of her, something with a terrible hunger and terrible power. Something that could come to control her, maybe even come to destroy her. Yet she wanted it more than anything else. Livia she felt a pain worse than any she had felt before. And in her dream, she screamed. 

Livia woke up in a cold sweat, and felt sick to her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she had actually screamed or not. ‘But what,’ she thought, ‘was that dream about?’ Livia thought of Aureus. She would never hurt Aureus. She would never hurt anyone, for that matter, not unless she had no choice. ‘Well... perhaps,’ thought Livia, ‘if they were enemies of Rome, or if they had committed a crime, or maybe, just maybe, if they had offered themselves to her freely as a sacrifice. But still,’ she told herself, ‘I would not enjoy it. And not Aureus. Never Aureus.’ She remembered how sick she had felt after executing the interloper in the baths. But in the dream, it all felt so good. 


Livia watched the arena below, trying to forget about the dream. The gladiatrix picked up a live elephant with both hands, throwing it into a group of gladiators. The elephant rolled along its side, knocking down gladiators like bowling pins. While the men were still lying on the ground, the gladiatrix stomped on them. Her feet came down on top of them, one after another, the weight of her body crushing them like bugs. Livia cringed at the slaughter. ‘What a waste,’ she thought, disgusted. ‘How cruel,’ thought Livia, ‘to force men to participate in such barbarity!’ But what really disgusted her was something else. Part of her, she realized, was starting to enjoy the bloodshed.