Insatiable Hunger

The guards made their way to the city vault, a dog leading the way. Someone had heard strange noises outside the vault, and the two posted guards were missing. The huge vault held emergency food stores for the city of Neapolis. The shelves were piled high with enough salted meats to last a harsh winter. There was little there in the way of valuables, so if it was a group of bandits that had raided the place, the were sorely misguided. The entrance was cracked open.

Suddenly, the dog bolted off into the darkness of the vault. He barked once, then again. The guards lit their torches, and cautiously made their way into the building. The shelves were half-empty and empty metal containers were strewn about the floor. Some were torn, while others had what looked like bite marks, as if some kind of large animal had broken in. The dog yelped, a sound that was followed by an odd popping noise. The guard turned the corner with sword in hand, expecting to see some kind of bear… But the only person standing there was a confused-looking, waif-like young woman, barely standing five feet high. She had what looked like long, red and black drapery loosely wrapped around her body, dragging on the ground. The woman was licking the inside of a metal container.

“Woman, you are trespassing on city property. Please, come with me now so I don’t have to use force.”

She stopped licking, but continued looking at the metal container.

“Woman, I believe there’s some sort of dangerous beast has been in here recently. Please, come with us now, so we can help you to safety.”

She slowly turned her gaze towards them. The woman looked half-starving, but had a dark, foreign beauty. Her skin was olive her beautiful hair jet-black, her breasts firm and delicate. Her sad look and doe eyes could have melted any man’s heart. She looked down for a second, and gave the guard a frightened look.

“Oh, I do hope it’s not a bear. I’ve always been terrified of bears. Please guard, could you rescue me?”

“Very well,” he told the other guards. “You two, search the rest of the vault. I’ll escort the girl to custody.” He placed shackles on her wrists and legs, and walked out through an alleyway towards the jail. She walked with him, her strange cloak dragging on the ground.

“Sir, what’s your name?”

“Trevor. And you needn’t call me sir, I’m barely older than you are.”

“No sir, hehe! I’m already almost twenty and half years old! Will there be food at this jail? I’m starting to get hungry again…”

“You’ll get a meal tomorrow morning.”

The girl looked at him sadly, and started to cry. “But, I’m out of food, and I’m so, so hungry. And I told my mother that I wouldn’t eat any that I didn’t pay for, , but  I’d do anything for some food. Anything…” She looked at him with a mischievous  look. Strange, he thought. The guard looked at her. Somehow, she now looked a bit fuller: her face no longer looked emaciated, her breasts seemed a bit plumper.

“The guard didn’t know what to make of her. She acted half like an overgrown lost child, half like a temptress. Was she really coming on to him? Either way, he couldn’t say no to those beautiful doe eyes. He reached for his satchel, and handed her a chicken leg he had been keeping for lunch. The girl grabbed it hungrily. She tilted back her head, wrapped her lips around it, and slurped it down, bones and all. Shocked, the guard asked, “are you okay!”

“Yes. More, please?”

I don’t have any more. The girl suddenly turned around and ran towards a fence.

“Chicken!”

The girl reached her hands through a hole in the fence. “I’m so hungry!” She stood back up, and was now holding a chicken by the neck. She stuck one chicken’s head down her mouth, her mouth opening wider than the man had ever seen a woman’s mouth open before. She grabbed the creature’s body, and somehow pushed the entire chicken down her throat. Gulp! She swallowed with a pleased sigh. The guard stared at her, stunned. The woman eyed the guard, licking her chops, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m still hungry, for man…”

The guard knew better than to lie with some madwoman when he was on the job, but she was too beautiful to pass up. The alley was deserted. The guard frantically took his clothes and leather armor off. The girl likewise dropped her robes: she had a defined, round ass and beautiful breasts he wouldn’t have imagined her having just a few minutes ago. Her lips were bright red, and fuller than any the man had seen. The woman shoved the guard to the ground, with surprising force. He was aroused.

“I want... you… inside of me!” she said, almost too excited to contain herself. Then, something unexpected happened. The woman lunged over towards him like a cat and put one of his bare feet into her mouth. Kinky.

She lied almost flat on her stomach, making seductive eyes at him. The guard found himself enjoying the strange sensation. Soon, she had his entire foot in her mouth. Then his shins. When the guard felt his legs going down her esophagus, he began to panic. How was this possible? The guard tried to fight, but the woman didn’t seem deterred in the least. Soon, her lips were wrapped around to the top of his left leg.

“Please woman, stop whatever you’re doing!”

As if on cue, she grabbed his other leg and snapped it back. The guard screamed in pain. Her mouth stretched grotesquely around the guards thighs, yet her eyes were still beautiful. She looked into his eyes with a mix of lust and mischief. The woman held his arms down. With a ferocious intensity, she forced the rest of his body down her throat. The man felt his lower body being crushed by her powerful digestive muscles.

The woman gulped the last of him down, then burped heartily. She stood a bit taller than before. Looking down, she saw that her stomach had grown fat, the partially digested body of the guard in her stomach. She marched playfully over to the pile of clothes. She dug out a revealing red and black corset and slipped it on, pulling the straps as tight as she could. Almost instantly, her body changed. The fat compressed and moved from her stomach. Her back stretched out, until she stood just a bit taller. Her ass became larger and rounder, her breasts were now almost what one could call large.

“Oh.” She said, with a sad look in her eye. “I forgot to ask the nice man’s name. Mine’s Cleopatra.”

A tall, dark-skinned young woman listened stood outside the inn. She heard screams, the sound of smashing windows and breaking bones. She sighed and rolled her eyes as she walked towards the inn. The woman stood eleven and a half feet tall, though she told her friends she was just over twelve. Her smooth skin was the color of milk chocolate. She wore a gray skirt that accentuated the subtle curves of her slender figure. Her friends called her Bast. A set of cat ears peaked out of her done-up, black hair. She held a clipboard in her right hand.

The innkeep stood outside the front entrance, shaking. “Excuse me sir, have you seen a young woman?” Bast asked, a cordial smile on her face.

“You have no idea what’s going on in there. This thing… she ate half the residents, some of my employees… The guards are trying to stop her now, but I think she’s killed most of them…”

“This girl had long black hair, maybe wearing a red and black corset…”

“That beast? That woman-monster? You know her?”

“I’m terribly sorry for the mess. She’s always getting into trouble,” Bast said with a friendly smile. The man looked at her with disbelief.

Bast ducked through the doorway, and examined the inn’s bar. What was once a counter was now a fine collection of jagged wood and splinters. Tables and chairs had been smashed to bits. Bits of steel armor, twisted and mangled, were scattered about here and there, bits of flesh still inside some of them. The floor was splashed with blood. A streaked trail of blood lead toward the door to a doorway, which had clearly been broken through by something far larger than the door’s width. Bast walked toward the door. Cleo? A guard sprinted toward her from the room’s doorway, screaming. An oversized hand grabbed him from around the doorway, dragging him back. “That girl,” she said, with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Cleo? You there?”

Cleopatra was reclining on her back, wearing a too-tight red and black corset. She dangled the body of the guard above her mouth, with the look of a playful housecat in her eyes. Her legs were bent up, her feet and head pressed against two opposing walls. The floor was covered in entrails, blood and bits of human flesh. Had she been standing, she would have stood nearly fifteen feet tall. Bast noticed the girl’s thick thighs, round ass and large breasts, which were proportionately approaching a D-cup. At least she’s looking healthier now, thought Bast.

“Cleo!” The giantess looked at her, startled. A guilty look ran across the girl’s face.

“Cleo! What are you doing!”

“I wandered off…”

“That was almost three days ago!”

“I’m almost twenty-one, I can do what I want! There was barely any food, and mom wasn’t sharing hers…”

“That’s no excuse! And what are you doing with that guard! Put him down!”

She slowly set the guard down.

Cleopatra spoke with an embarrassed quiver. “I was just hungry, is all.”

“So you started eating people?”

“Maybe…”

“How many?” Bast asked her, annoyed.

“Maybe five…”

“How many?” Bast said pointedly.

“Twenty-ish.”

“And you think that’s okay?” Said Bast. “To just… run around, and eat whoever? Without even paying for them?” The guard stood there awkwardly.

“Mom does it all the time!”

“That’s different. Those are field serfs, and that was back in Egypt, in lands that she governed. They belonged to her. These are free citizens of the Roman Empire! You can’t just go around eating whoever you want!”

“I guess. But I was really hungry, and I haven’t had any milk in a week!”

“That’s no excuse. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Can I just have this one last guard? This one’s nice and scrumptious…”

“No more eating people without permission.”

“Why should I even listen to you? You’re tiny! You’d feel great sliding down my throat!”

“And how would your mother feel about that?”

“Not good…”

“Exactly. So let’s go.”

“Wait! If I can’t eat this guard, can I keep him as a friend?”

“Only if he wants you to.”

“Guard, do you want to be her friend?”

“Only if she won’t eat me!”

“Okay,” said Bast. “Cleo, do you promise to not eat your friend?”

“Ummm… uhhhh… Okay! I always have fun with my friends, she said, stroking his head.” And with that, they headed out.

The Mayor

Bast watched as Cleopatra squeezed her way through the Inn’s doorway, breaking the wood around it to splinters. The guard followed, dragged by a length of rope. Cleopatra had stripped off the guard’s armor, and he walked behind her wearing nothing but his underwear and a metal shackle around his neck. Considering the circumstances, the guard was taking it quite well. Cleopatra stood up, slowly. She stood almost as high as the two-story Inn. “You can be my bosom buddy! You’ll feel nice and snug between my big old tits.” Cleopatra lifted up the guard and squeezed him between her breasts, which were held up by the corset. The guard seemed to be enjoying himself.

Bast ignored the display. She walked over past a row of trees to the innkeeper, who was talking to a group of guards, a short, well-dressed older man, and two young men on horseback. A dozen or so squires and servants stood around them. One of the men on horseback looked towards her, then towards the innkeeper. “That’s not her, is it? No. Excuse me, can I help you, milady?”

“Yes. I just wanted to apologize for everything that’s happened.”

The innkeep looked up at her. “They destroyed my inn…”

“How much will it take to pay for the damages?”

“ Well at least five gold coins…”

Bast leaned down and handed the man a few gold coins from her satchel.

“She ate… She ate my son…”

She took a few more gold coins and handed them to the man.

“Terribly sorry for your loss,” Bast said with a half-hearted attempt at sincerity.  “This should more than cover everything. Have a good day!” she said, and turned away from him.

Bast walked over towards the other men. At eleven feet, she easily towered over them, even the ones on horseback. The short, timid-looking older man didn’t even come up to her thighs. “Now, who’s in charge here?”

“I am,” said the mayor, trying his best not to stutter. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m sorry about the mess. I’m the girl’s caretaker. I’m afraid she got out of control.”

“Her caretaker? Got out of control! The she-monster ate ten of my guards!”

“Ten? I’m sorry, she gets so hungry sometimes... Really, there’s no helping it.” Bast counted out ten gold coins and handed them to the man. “Now that that’s settled, though, I have some other matters to deal with.”

Bast heard a crinkling noise. Cleopatra stood up over a row of hedges, waving shyly to the group. The guard was still wedged firmly between her breasts. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

“She gets a little carried away sometimes. The girl has a number of dietary issues, it runs in the family. She needs to eat frequently, or she’ll shrink down to normal size. And her digestive tract has several extra… well, I won’t bore you with the details. But I have her under control. Her mother will be here soon enough. In the mean time, I’ll need as much food as you have. Cattle are good. Slaves are better. And as much milk of the poppy as you have.” Cleopatra smiled when she said milk.

A deep rumble came from the distance. Then again. Then again. It sounded like a series of small earthquakes.

“What is that noise!” said the mayor.

“The Governess,” said Bast.

“Mom!” screamed Cleopatra.

Looking toward the rumbling, you could see the distinctive silhouette of her mother in the distance. Her shadow looked like that of an eighty-foot tall mudflap girl. From a narrow waist jutted wide hips, a round, firm ass and big, round breasts. Her tight bustier was barely able to contain her breasts, which were held high enough that they almost reached the base of her neck. Each of her enormous breasts shook with a massive weight. They weighed over 5,000 pounds each, more than a full-grown rhinoceros. As she came more into focus, her features became visible. She had a delicate face, with strong cheeks, smooth caramel skin and a sultry smile on her pouty lips. She walked at a relaxed, measured pace, her hips swaying back and forth with an exaggerated femininity. With each step she took the ground quaked. Her breasts heaved, then jiggled, with each step she took, moving up and down several feet with each step. Her name was Scarlett, and she was the Governess of Egypt, and the self-proclaimed Goddess of Lust and Indulgence.

Scarlett was a woman who cared about only two things: power and pleasure. Since birth, she had been given untold wealth, power and privilege. For anyone to tell her no was unheard of. At the age of nineteen, her mother declared her a goddess, and created an entire religious order in her honor. Every citizen of Egypt, Scarlett ordered, was to dedicate their lives to her worship.

A deeply sensual woman, her insatiable hungers defined her more than anything else. She lived to be worshipped. Pleasure was her sole purpose of her life, and thus her veneration was the sole purpose of the whole of Egypt. The only one she cared for was her daughter, who she saw almost as almost an extension of herself. Scarlett spared no expense to make sure the world catered to every desire her and her daughter felt. Otherwise, however, Scarlett viewed humanity as little more than . Scarlett loved power. She loved the feeling of towering over people, the feeling of being worshipped as a goddess, and the power she felt forcing the people of Egypt to pay their money and lives as tribute to her beauty.

She lived to make others submit to her. She would cause her followers immense suffering, and yet they still worshipped her: that feeling of power brought her equally immense pleasure. Had she killed every Egyptian purely for her own enjoyment (and she was well on her way to doing so,) she would have no regrets—except for the fact that she’d have to find new people to worship her. When it came to food, pleasure, and worship, too much was never enough—a fact attested to by her full, curvaceous figure.

In fact, her figure was usually a good deal fuller: like her daughter, she had a rare condition that caused her to rapidly lose weight if she didn’t eat enough. This was not a problem she commonly had. In the Governess’ palace, she had several caravans of fresh slaves, cows and elephants brought in daily. On the road, though, she quickly ran out of food. She had started her journey accompanied by a caravan of foodslaves, pleasure slaves, priests, worshippers, servants, and of course her daughter. She soon ran out of foodslaves: she had, after all, only brought a few hundred along with her. Soon she’d eaten or crushed all of her worshippers, priests, cargo horses, her servants’ horses, and finally most of her servants. The only servant she spared was Bast, a competent, loyal servant who Scarlett had something resembling affection for. The group that fared the best was her pleasure slaves—for Scarlett needed constant pleasure as much as she needed constant food, and they were among her most devoted worshippers. She now had only about ten of them, down from several dozen at the start of the trip.

Scarlett had an insatiable sexual appetite. She needed to have people constantly worshipping every feature of her body. It was unbearably difficult for her to go more than a few moments without some sort of sexual pleasure. To give her constant stimulation, she had slaves sucking on her huge nipples and clitoris at all times. At the moment, she had two slaves positioned under her bustier, their sole duty to constantly lick and massage her nipples. ‘Titslaves,’ she called them—Scarlett wasn’t known for her subtlety. Her most important slave she kept in the front of her panties. She charmingly named them “Clitslaves.” Her tight corset panties pushed his head against her clitoris, which he licked and rubbed non-stop. The pleasure slaves were clothed head to toe in black leather, with a mask that covered everything except their mouths. Scarlett was fond of the feeling of leather rubbing against her skin.

The current slave had just started his job, and as his near-constant erections professed, he was very fond of it. All day, he licked and rubbed her clitoris, which was round and firm, and bigger than his head. He loved to worship her. He loved the smell of her pussy, overpowering and pungent, yet somehow almost sweet. He loved the feeling of being utterly controlled by this godlike woman. Even her cunt was strong enough to crush the life out of him! He loved being used by this godlike woman for pleasure, and loved to give pleasure to her. He loved the taste of the warm, sticky residue that covered her clitoris, and the feeling her labia sometimes pressing hard against him as she moved. Somehow he even loved the fact that he never got off himself, the fact that aside from his tongue, he could never truly touch her. It made her unobtainable, and thus so much more desirable. Sometimes, she would press her legs together, and he would feel as if her labia walls pressing against his sides. It felt as if they could crush the life out of him—a fate he knew had met many of his predecessors. This feeling he liked most of all. He would give his life to Scarlett, goddess of lust, indulgence and beauty. It was his rightful place, his duty.

Scarlett didn’t feed these slaves. For the most part, she didn’t need to—the milk that flowed from her nipples almost constantly, and her musky fluids that lubricated her clitoris, were enough to keep them alive for months or longer. Few slaves survived that long, however, and they usually had to be replaced at least every day or two. It was dangerous work, to spend much time on Scarlett’s body. Sometimes her thighs would press close together, squeezing a clitslave’s body between her huge labial walls. Other times, while she masturbated, she would grab her breasts uncontrollably with her off hand, squeezing her breasts and nipples with great force. She loved the feeling of crushing a man against her immense tits as she was about to come.

Even this wasn’t enough for Scarlett. She could masturbate for hours straight as her followers licked her feet and labia, her moans and movements shaking the ground around her. But nothing aroused her more than crushing men. She would often visit her churches during service. They were always pack—missing service, after all, was punishable by death. They would worship her, bowing down, speaking chants worshipping her beauty and greatness. She would ask them to lick the dirt and blood off her foot, crushing them if they weren’t thorough enough. Sometimes she simply rolled around, crushing men under her huge tits and ass, feeling their bodies squish into goo as they paid tribute to her perfect body. More than anything, she loved to make men worship her pussy. Men would kneel down, licking her labia and worshipping her pussy’s great beauty and power. When she grew tired of this she would stuff them inside her immense vagina. She loved the feeling of them wriggling around as they tried to escape, the feeling of them gasping for air, the feeling of them asphyxiating inside her perfect, godlike being. She’d lightly rub her huge fingers, each nearly as long as a grown man, along the walls of her vagina. When she was ready to climax, her pussy would tighten with an incredible force. Instantly, she crushed them into a red paste, gushing gallons of blood through the air as she moaned in ecstacy. It was the fullest submission, a fitting tribute to her greatness. She loved this feeling more than anything else in the world.

Scarlett forced her hips through the city gate, whose highest towers barely reached above her huge round ass. She eyed the crowded marketplace in the narrow streets ahead of her. Hundreds of people bartered, talked, and drank beneath the tents that crowded the street. The market was loud and busy, and most of the crowd hadn’t noticed her yet. She was pleased, and she let out a pleased sigh as she imagined the juicy feeling of their bodies squishing under her feet.

She pushed her way through the narrow street. A few in the crowd noticed that the strange rumbling was getting closer, but most paid it no heed until it was too late. Some started to flee as she came through the gates. Her wide hips knocked against a churchtower, breaking the ancient brick and sending the steeple crushing onto the crowd below. On the ground, a wealthy merchant looked up, just in time to see her huge foot crash down on him. It came down on him with the force of a trebuchet, instantly flattening him. Each of her heavy steps crushed the pavement, leaving a deep indent in the ground.

Scarlett didn’t feel even the slightest sympathy for the people she stepped on. She savored the sensation of one innocent person after another crushed into goo beneath her feet. She enjoyed the squishy feeling each body made. She was something of a connoisseur in that regard, and she could note the slightest change in body type and composition from one person to the next. Fat, thin, young, old: each pleased her and her feet in a different, unique way. As far as she was concerned, they existed only to please her. She savored the crunch of every skull, the sweetly sickening sound as she flattened people’s entrails the snapping of their sinew. Her only regret was that she couldn’t take her time to enjoy it: after all, she had to find her daughter.

Rolling out the (Blood)-Red Carpet

Bast looked into the distance, glancing at the immense woman stomping her way towards them. She was happy to see Scarlett, her goddess and employer. She had been through all this before: the screaming, the running, the crushing, the gnashing of the teeth, the wailing of the women… It had all stopped bothering her long ago. You don’t work as Scarlett’s personal servant for ten years without getting used to the little things like that. It was all for the honor of Scarlett. And more importantly, it was a steady paycheck.

They stood in a huge stone courtyard. On one side was the castle, on the other, the ruined inn. “Bast! I’ve been looking for you!” A courier her and handed her a gigantic scroll, which stretched several feet wide. She took a minute to read the scroll’s contents, a satisfied grin appearing on her face. She turned toward the mayor and his men, giving them a look of understated amusement. The mayor’s men still stood by Bast, even as a panicked people ran past them. Behind them stood a small legion of guards and soldiers, waiting for orders.

“Mayor. Guards. Soldiers. Is everyone listening?” The men looked up at Bast. At around twelve feet, she barely came up to Cleopatra’s waist right now, and stood as high as Scarlett’s ankle. Still, her size and power were intimidating to these common men. If she wanted to, she could probably take on all the guards. But Bast didn’t have the tastes of royal women, and she wasn’t the violent type. She started her speech.
“That voluptuous womanly creature over there in the distance is Scarlett, the mighty and powerful Goddess of Lust and Indulgence, Governess of Egypt. I’m currently employed as her personal servant, and I’d like for things to go as smoothly as possible. Cleo here, in case I didn’t already mention it, is her daughter. Now I just received a scroll, which I’d like to read to you. This scroll was personally signed by Cybele herself. Cybele—have you heard of her? Goddess-empress of Rome? The most powerful woman in the world? Stands over a hundred feet tall? Personally owns this shithole town, Pompeii, and everything else for 1000 miles in any direction from here? The one who has the express legal right to do anything she wants to any Roman citizen who displeases her? I’m sure you’ve heard her name at some point. Well, let me read her letter to you: 

‘Hello, loyal subjects. My dear personal friend Scarlett, Goddess of Lust and Indulgence and Governess of Egypt, may be stopping in her town on her way to my daughters coronation. You are to instruct every person in Pompeii and the surrounding cities to worship her in a goddess. Every person in the city of Pompeii is to be fully subservient to her every whim. Please worship her and her daughter in whichever way Scarlett sees fit, and make it your highest priority to make sure every possible whim of theirs is utterly fulfilled. If anyone disrespects her or fails to submit to her in even the slightest way, I will personally destroy the city of Pompeii in a storm of fire and fury.

With Love, the True Goddess and Empress of Rome, Cybele Augusta Caesar.’ Below the signature was a dark red lipstick mark, roughly two and a half feet wide. 

Bast was clearly taking a great deal of enjoyment in this. “What that means is that the city of Pompeii will bow down to Scarlett. You will give her everything you can offer, and more. Your lives, your very beings, are hers now. But most of all, don’t forget to have fun!”

Bast abruptly turned towards Cleo, calling out to her.

“Hey, you can do whatever you want with the townspeople, Cleo! Citizens and everybody! I’m sorry about that whole ‘you can’t eat anyone’ thing earlier. Cleo, you can eat anyone you want to!”

“Mmm, that makes me hungry…” Cleo moaned, but she was still full from earlier, and was too busy stroking her new pet guard to actually eat anyone at the moment. Standing there with her back arched, she stood nearly twenty feet tall. The guard was still wedged between her large breasts, which were squeezed tightly into the bustier of her black and red corset. She took her long fingers, which were nearly as long as the man’s arm, and gently rubbed the back of the guard’s neck. The guard seemed to be enjoying himself greatly.

Bast continued on to the mayor. “But anyway, let me go through the whole introductory spiel. That’s Scarlett, Governess of Egypt, goddess of blah, blah, blah... The takeaway is that she Is about eighty feet and forty tons of insatiable hunger, lust, and bloodlust. You are all now effectively her slaves. All of you. The people of Pompeii will worship her at all times, and you will do everything in your power to fulfill all of her appetites whenever possible. Now, Scarlett fulfilling her appetites often involves her eating or crushing many, many people. Luckily, you are a fortunate group—you’re in charge of things, and if you accommodate her well, there’s a distinct chance that you won’t end up unwillingly sacrificing yourself as a crushed offering between her tits. Not that most of you would be unwilling.

‘So you’re going to want to do everything you can to make her happy. If she’s about to eat your grandma, you say, ‘yes, please continue, Goddess. Have my wife too!’ If she tries to grab you and stick you in her vagina, your odds of survival are slightly better if you slide on in than if you try to run away. Well, that’s kind of a toss-up. But anyway, you should act as if your lives and the lives of everyone in this city depend on Scarlett being in a state of complete and utter physical, emotional and sexual gratification. Because in a very, very real way, they do. 

‘Okay, Do’s and don’ts. First off, do not call her fat—she isn’t fat anyway. She’s full and voluptuous, with a classic hourglass figure. It’s a completely different body type. We’re talking Christina Hendricks here, not Aretha Franklin. If she is anywhere in her general vicinity, stand still and bow down before her. Do not scream or run away from her. This will just make her want to kill you faster. Make sure she’s extremely satisfied and happy at all times. She doesn’t kill as many people when she’s being properly worshipped and in a happy, satisfied state. Well…. Okay, sometimes it’s kind of a toss-up. Anyway. Do whatever she asks, but don’t make her ask for anything. You need to think about all of her possible wants and needs. You’ll have to be constantly vigilant to make sure none of her needs are going ignored. Has it been more than a minute or two since she’s eaten someone? Is there no one within her current snacking range? Is one of her toes going unlicked? Does she not have anyone flailing wildly as they asphyxiate to death in her ass? She has the same wants and needs as any of us, gentlemen, and we must make sure that they’re fulfilled.”

The ground rumbled as the Governess walked closer and closer, crushing members of the screaming crowd as they tried to run away from her. She was only a few minutes away now. Bast continued on, undeterred.

“Now she’s going to be over here any minute now, and that means that we need to make some quick preparations. Horse guy, go ride around the city and tell everyone all the stuff that I just told you. Other horse guy, gather up everyone you can around this courtyard. Now when she gets here she’s going to be hungry. If you have any cattle, or stockpiles of food, that’s great, but mostly she’s going to want people. And lots of them. If you have some slaves out in the fields, or lying around the city somewhere, I’d recommend getting them now-ish, because odds are you’d rather have her eat a few hundred Helots than a few hundred of your closest friends and family. Make sure to get her Red Spice and Milk of the Poppy. As much as you can. Now. I think that’s everything. You five, go. The rest of you, stay with me.” 

The mayor agreed. “Yes… do whatever the tall woman says!” 

The men Bast ordered off dashed away, all two happy to get away from the decadent giantess. The rest stood there, looking stunned. They were now standing in Scarlett’s huge, voluptuous shadow…

The mayor stood trembling as he stared up towards the Governess. He had never seen such a beautiful sight, or such a terrifying one. The governess stood over eighty feet tall. Scarlett’s voluptuous body, all curves and perfectly placed lumps, towered over the congregation of men. The only thing in Pompeii that stood higher than her was the city’s enormous coliseum, which stood nearly twice her height. The men barely stood as high as her ankle. Even Cleopatra, at fifteen feet tall, didn’t quite come up to her knees.

From the angle he was standing at, the mayor could barely see past her immense breasts to her face. She stood still, but the ground still rumbled slightly as she shifted her weight. Her size was awe-inspiring. She was almost as tall as Cybele, though with her more voluptuous frame, Scarlett could well be the heaviest goddess in the Empire. Her ass was full and round, her hips wide. Her breasts were nearly as big as her head, huge and round, and were almost too big for her corset’s bustier. She weighed forty tons: her breasts alone weighed as much as a full-grown rhinoceros. Each. If you looked closely you could see the outline of her body slaves moving subtly through her bustier, but as huge as her breasts were, it was easy to miss them.

The mayor wasn’t looking up, though: he was too scared for that. Instead, he looked down, at her feet. Her feet were splashed with a deep red, as if she had been stomping on grapes. Bits and pieces of the “grapes” were wedged between her toes. In fact, when she was younger, she once tried stomping grapes. Scarlett soon found a field slave, who was also stomping grapes, and decided to stomp him instead. The mayor felt the goddess’ beauty overpowering. The mayor stared at her feet. Even with their immense size, and even covered in human blood and entrails, they were somehow thin, feminine, even delicate. The mayor had never been attracted to feet before, not like this. It had been years since he had felt this kind of attraction to any woman. But Scarlett was no ordinary woman. There was something about Scarlett’s body that pulled men in. Not all men, mind you, and not always. But as often as not, they found her irresistible, like a fly finds the sweet scent of a pitcher plant.

The governess was in a mix of hunger and lust. She hadn’t yet noticed her daughter Cleopatra, who was standing not that far in front of her. Cleopatra didn’t try to get her attention. Not yet. Cleo wasn’t known for self-control or maturity, but she was at least usually wise enough to leave Scarlett alone when her mother was in one of her moods. And right now, Scarlett was definitely in one of her moods. “It’s been a long journey… I’m soooo hungry…”

For the first time, the mayor’s men heard the Governess speak. Her voice was effortlessly sultry, rough yet silky in a way that somehow matched her dark, sensual appearance. She spoke slowly, seductively, and with a surprising quiet. She had rarely needed to raise her voice: when she spoke, all listened.

She rubbed her hands luxuriously against the curves of her body, up her thighs and around her hips. Reaching up into her immense brassiere, she grabbed one leather-clad slave, then another, from off her nipples. She hated to eat her last titslaves, but she had never been hungrier. She reached beneath her panties and stuck the slaves into her wet pussy, moaning vigorously as they went in and out. She wanted badly to climax, to finish the slaves crushed inside her godlike pussy. This time, however, her lust was overpowered by another sort of hunger. She pulled the slaves out, their bodies still dripping wet with her fluids. Tilting her head back, she dangled them just around her mouth. The governess wrapped her long tongue around the slaves, sensuously licking her own rich, creamy fluids from their bodies. She lowered their tiny bodies down toward her thick, wet lips. They lips were just wide enough for the two slaves to go down side by side. Slowly, she slid them down between her lips, which were opened ever so slightly. She loved the sensation of men rubbing against the inside of her lips. But she was hungry. She opened her mouth more fully, and quickly swallowed. “Mmmm…” she said with a seductive smile on her lips.

But she still had another slave. Her clitslave was still in the front of her panties, wedged tight between her labia as the slave sucked nonstop on her basketball-sized clit. Scarlett reached one hand down her panties with a mix of lust and urgency. She grabbed him forcefully, rubbing him hard against her clitoris. The slave felt Scarlett’s huge hand squeezing him, her fingers almost as long as his body. Her thick labia pressed against him. “Yes,” Scarlett moaned to herself. She rubbed harder and harder.

Scarlett had her back turned to the mayor’s men. The men knew better than to flee, not that they would have anyway. They were too transfixed to look away, let alone run away. A group of the guards were standing immediately behind the goddess. They looked up at the beautiful, towering figure.

For a normal woman to perform such a display would be degrading, debasing, humiliating. But for a goddess like her, it was different. With a goddess, even an act of self-gratification somehow made them seem all the more stunning. They weren’t common men or women. For a normal person to kill another for their own pleasure is evil, barbaric, disgusting—it goes against the natural order of things, as the priests said. But with a goddess, it was different. They were the natural order. They were, in a sense, nature, just as much as they were women. In a goddess’ most mundane movements was the implacable force of a hurricane, the impossible majesty of a sunrise, the delicate beauty of a dancing girl. And, in Scarlett’s case, the implacable desire of a lusty, wicked queen. But she wasn’t merely beautiful, or feminine, or lusty, or indulgent, or a woman. She was beauty itself, femininity itself, lust itself, indulgence itself, womanhood itself. It was because of that, as much as it was because of their immense size, that the goddesses were so powerful. The goddesses, after all, were more than merely powerful: they were power itself.

The guards weren’t pondering this at the time, however. They weren’t thinking much of anything. They merely stared at her, their eyes full of lust, utterly in awe of the goddess’ incredible beauty and power. Even from behind, they could see her right hand rubbing sensually against her labia, her left hand rubbing her huge breasts. She was the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen, and with her exaggerated hourglass figure, she was certainly the most womanly. Her long legs were as thick as redwoods, yet were still beautiful and feminine, and somehow at once delicate and devastatingly powerful. Her perfect, round ass was over 25 feet across, bigger than most houses and as heavy as a boulder. Her ass was uncovered, save for a pair of revealing panties. They were made from a delicate black fabric that contrasted with her mostly red corset.

Scarlett moaned again, louder, and her legs began to quiver with excitement. Then, abruptly, she fell back, with a clumsy yet feminine motion. She was going to fall on top of a group of guards, crushing them. The guards may have had enough time to get away, but most of them just stood there, staring, open-mouthed. Eight guards were below her, another few just to her sides. One of them said ‘yes,’ faintly, right before she fell on them. Then her immense ass hit the ground, shaking the earth and sending faint ripples through the fat of her womanly ass. Blood sprayed on impact, than slowly ran from under her body. But Scarlett paid all of this little heed. She barely noticed herself falling, and the feeling of men crushed under her was just one of many pleasant sensations. Even as she fell, she never stopped rubbing the slave against her pussy.

The slave felt some of his ribs crack, but with the rush of endorphins there was little real pain. He felt an incredible ecstasy, as Scarlett’s powerful hands rubbed him hard against the outer wall of her vagina. She was sitting on the ground now, legs open, using the slave’s body for her pleasure. His entire existence was devoted to pleasing her. ‘Use me,’ he thought to himself, as Scarlett pressed harder and faster. He felt his shoulders dislocate, but it didn’t matter. His body vibrated as she moaned again, louder this time. ‘Crush my pitiful body! My life is yours to destroy, goddess! Crush me against your beautiful, powerful pussy!’

She did. Scarlett came, letting out a series of long, powerful moans as her back arched. Her head craned back. With her left hand, Scarlett grabbed her huge left breast as hard as she could, squeezing and kneading it. With her right, she pressed uncontrollably against her labia. To the slave, the palm of Scarlett’s immense hand was as huge and solid as a brick wall. As she pressed harder and harder, the pressure built up more and more. The slave felt his bones breaking, his head being crushed between her head and her huge clitoris. Her clit was soft, and gave way, but only so much. Scarlett’s head quickly jolted back as she roared again. With Scarlett’s loud, ecstatic moans, you could barely hear the slave’s muffled screaming, “Crush me as you come Scarle—“ before his internal organs were crushed and his skull was smashed like a watermelon.* The crunch, however, was more than audible. A trickle of dark blood ran down her panties, but was difficult to see against the black fabric. A look of satisfaction, then relief, showed on her face.

Now that her urge was satisfied for now, Scarlett’s mind turned back to her other hunger. Her right hand was still down her panties. She took the body of the slave, still warm, crushed beyond recognition within the intact leather bodysuit, covered in his blood and her body’s fluids. Without giving it a thought, she unceremoniously tossed the slave into her mouth, and swallowed. She then looked over to her side. Two of the mayor’s men were running away, both nearly out of her reach. With a quick, brutal motion, she effortlessly grabbed them both, stuffed them in her mouth, and greedily swallowed. The rest of the mayor’s men now stood among a scattered crowd of onlookers that had gathered tentatively around the courtyard. All of them simply stared at Scarlett, stunned.

For now, Scarlett was almost satisfied. Almost. She slowly remembered her mission, and looked around, taking note of the world around her. After a minute, the governess looked down and saw Bast, then Cleopatra. Her beautiful daughter looked up at her, a look of humility on her thin, delicate face. Cleopatra had been slowly growing ever since her small binge earlier that day. 20 years old, she had grown to be almost 21 feet tall. Cleo wasn’t shocked by her mother's obscene displays: she had seen her mother perform similar acts many, many times before. In fact, she kind of enjoyed it.

In some ways, Cleo was deeply immature. She had lead a sheltered, privileged life, and had little interest in learning to function like a mature adult. In other ways, however, she was extremely worldly. As Scarlett’s daughter, she had seen heard about her mother performing so many twisted, violent sexual acts that it all seemed completely normal. Beyond eating the odd slave, however, Cleopatra hadn’t yet indulged in all that much herself. But she was getting older. It was only so long until her mother declared her a goddess, and only so long before she got to try the Red Spice...

"Mom!"

“My poor little daughter, you’re wasting away! You never should have run away from me! You’re half-starved!”

In fact, Cleo still looked quite healthy. While her hips were narrow and her waist was thin, she still had full, round breasts. She wore a tight black corset that matched her black hair and stood in contrast to her vanilla skin. Scarlett, however, was used to seeing Cleo looking much fuller. The governess leaned towards her daughter, stretched out her hand, and began to stroke her daughter’s upper body. Her daughter giggled. Scarlett looked at the guard who was still wedged in Cleo’s bustier. The guard’s upper body was wedged between Cleo’s breasts, while his legs hung out from the bottom of Cleo’s bustier, hanging in front of the waist of her corset. His feet hung just past her navel.

Oh, I see you found a snack? These commoners are dirty. Only the finest foodslaves are good enough for my precious little daughter. I hate to see you so thin, but I can feed you soon enough. ” Even talking to her daughter, Scarlett’s deep, feminine voice was rich, and almost sultry.

“Nope! This one’s my friend, I’m going to keep him forever!” Cleo playfully licked the guard who was wedged between her breasts. Her voice was higher, more youthful, standing in sharp contrast to her mature, womanly body.

Bast looked up to the Governess.

“Your grace and beauty, I received a letter from Cybelle herself. She offers her full hospitality. The entire city and its men are yours. You can use them for whatever you please.”

“Good. I’m still hungry. And my daughter needs to eat...”

In Praise of the Goddess

The Baroness of Pompeii lead her caravan through the city’s streets on the back of a huge war elephant, clothed in exotic fineries. She stood just over twelve feet high, and her long legs wrapped around the sides of her beast much like a normally sized man’s would wrap around a horse. Behind her rode two female guards on smaller elephants, each guard wearing thin plate armor. Were they standing, each guard would have stood just over ten feet high. Behind them rode a small legion of male guards on horses. A long chain gain of slaves hurried along at the end of the group, prodded along by guards. 

The Baroness’ elephant was huge, thick and broad, with a spiked leather helm covering its forehead. The Baroness, riding her beast on an intricate harness, was tall, lithe and thin. The uneven robes that wrapped around her body were long, and covered in detailed tapestries. They hid much of her body, yet even with thick robes her exquisite, subtle curves were still apparent. Like most wealthy women, she used the Spices from time to time. And like nearly all who used the Spices, she was extremely tall, and utterly beautiful. Her fine Italian skin and shimmering brown hair shone, even through the white veil that covered her hair and forehead. 

Riding on her enormous elephant, the Baroness sat over twenty feet high. To any man, the baroness and her legion of cavalry were a truly imposing sight. But she rode to Scarlett, who stood nearly eighty feet tall. To Scarlett, the Baroness and her elephant were about as large and as intimidating as a squirrel riding a small cat. The Baroness may have had a small legion of guards behind her, but Scarlett, a governess, didn’t need guards. She was a goddess, and she feared no one in the Empire aside from Cybele. The Baroness rode up towards Scarlett. She had been riding with the proud, superior demeanor of someone used to great wealth and power. But as she rode closer to Scarlett, she started to feel humble, even weak. Compared to Scarlett, governess of Egypt, her power was nothing. Even aside from her size and godhood, Scarlett was governess of Egypt, the most powerful province in the Empire outside of Rome itself. And Scarlett, the Baroness thought, was famously indulgent and mercurial. If for whatever reason Scarlett wished to eat the Baroness’ guards, or make the Baroness herself into her harem slave, no one would ever raise complaint. And it wasn’t as if it was the first time Scarlett had done such a thing. Still, she was obliged to pay homage to the visiting goddess, and she longed to gaze upon Scarlett’s legendary beauty. Besides, she could always buy new guards if she needed to. And perhaps, she thought with a smile, there were far worse things than spending one’s life in Scarlett’s harem. 

A large, dense crowd of men had gathered around Scarlett. None spoke. Most bowed in front of her, some sat kneeling, others simply stood and stared in awe. Scarlett herself sat luxuriously on a huge, makeshift platform, which was raised about twenty feet off the ground. A dozen slaves fanned her as she lied there, half-asleep. The Baroness watched as Scarlett casually picked up a few worshippers from the crowd and lift them into her mouth. No one in the crowd made any attempt to flee. Her daughter, Cleo was playing with her pet guard on the platform. Over twenty feet tall, Cleo stood tall over the guard, but was still dwarfed by her huge mother. A shorter woman, dark-skinned, sat on the edge of the platform, writing something on papyrus. The Baroness had heard stories of the Egyptian goddess’ incredible size and beauty, but still she was stunned. Scarlett sat before her on the stone platform, as statuesque as she was voluptuous. Even sitting down, Scarlett towered over the Baroness like a beautiful, womanly Colossus of Rhodes. 

The Baroness and her elephant rode into the crowd, her elephant guards and cavalry behind her. Men scampered out of the way to clear a wide path for the Baroness, running this way and that to get out of her way. Some were older, or slower, or otherwise weren’t quick enough to get out of the way. The Baroness didn’t slow down. Her huge African elephant continued along, marching at a brisk, steady pace. Here and there she heard short screams, followed by a squishing sound, as her elephant’s feet crushed a few of the slower men. She paid them little heed, however. These men did not belong to Scarlett, and it would be undignified for a Baroness to stop for common men. Besides, the crunching sound their bodies made amused the Baroness.

The baroness rode her elephant to the edge of the platform. Scarlett looked down silently at the her. The goddess was still half asleep, but she seemed pleased by the Baroness. The Baroness looked up at Scarlett timidly, then bowed her head as she started to speak.

“Domina… My goddess and governess… Your grace and beauty… I am Epona, Baroness of this province. Though I am unworthy of you, I come to offer you my undying servitude. I bring gifts of manslaves and Milk of the Poppy. A caravan should arrive soon with a small shipment of the Red Spice. Please accept my humble offerings.”

Scarlett reached out and placed her huge hand around the Baroness. Epona stood nearly twelve feet tall, but Scarlett’s huge hands still fit easily around Epona’s slender body. Scarlett gently picked up the baroness, and set her next to herself. The Baroness stood there, unsure of what to do.

“Your gifts please me greatly, Baroness. I will accept them. Slaves, come to me!”

A chain gang of two dozen Helot slaves proceeded towards Scarlett, their thick chain and iron shackles clanging as they walked. They came to the edge of Scarlett’s stone platform. Scarlett, never one to refuse a gift, picked up the slave in the front of the line. The chain jerked the slaves behind him into the air by their shackles. They flailed wildly. 

‘”You all look tasty. I want to feel your little bodies writhing as I swallow you whole!”

Without another word she ripped the first slave off of the chain, his arms ripped off by the shackles. She tossed him into her open mouth and swallowed hungrily. She still held the top of the chain, and a dozen slaves dangled in the air below. Scarlett put the front end of the chain in her mouth. Then, slurping the chain like pasta, she sucked the second slave into her mouth and swallowed him. The rest of the slaves flailed below, trying to wriggle out of their shackles. It was no use. She sucked down one slave after another, the chain pulling their tiny arms between her thick, half-closed lips. She moved her head to the side, spinning the chain of slaves below and bumping them against her huge breasts as she sucked down another, then another. It was a display that would have been disgusting, if not for Scarlett’s beauty and the pleased, almost mischievous look on her face. The last slave she toyed with a bit, wrapping her long, flexible tongue around the chain to pull him in. Then she gulped, swallowing the last slave and the chain along with it. Faint, muffled screams could be heard coming from Scarlett’s stomach as the slaves were digested by her stomach acid.

“The slaves were a fitting tribute,” Scarlett said, starting to wake up more fully. “But I desire more. Give me your milk of the poppy!”

Cleopatra yelled hungrily. “Milk! Milk! I’m thirsty!” 

“Yes,” said Epona, looking straight up at Scarlett. “That horse cart by the edge of the platform has an ample supply. It should be enough to fulfill even someone of your size for months, if not years…” 

Wasting no time, Scarlett clumsily reached down, picking up the large cart with both hands. She lifted it into the air, the cart pulling its horse and rider along with it. Raising the cart above her head, she dipped the horse into her mouth and wrapped her lips around it. The rider clung for dear life, but it wasn’t enough. As Scarlett sucked him in, the force quickly became too much, and his hands slipped off the horse’s reigns. The rider screamed as he slid down Scarlett’s throat. In a single bite, Scarlett chewed through the rope that connected the horse to the cart. She swallowed as the beast desperately flailed about in her mouth. Scarlett pulled off the cart’s roof and stared at the cart’s contents with wonder. The inside of the cart was filled to the brim with Milk of the Poppy, in a powdered form. It must have been nearly half a ton! 

Scarlett had long used Milk of the Poppy: to help maintain her full figure and round breasts. This was by far the most Milk of the Poppy that Scarlett had ever taken at once. It was the one thing Scarlett had to ration, outside of the Red Spice: good poppy milk had to be shipped to Egypt from hundreds of miles away, and poppy caravans were often raided by bandits. Scarlett usually had to make due with far less Milk of the Poppy than she and her daughter wanted. 

Still, it was potent. A tablespoon was enough to make her breasts a bit fuller for a few days. Two ounces would make her breasts swell significantly. The most she had ever taken at once was twenty pounds. That was almost too much. Her breasts became huge and engorged, growing well over a full cup size. But a half ton… she had never taken a half ton before.

Scarlett leaned her head back and tilted the cart above her mouth with both hands. She had to have it now! All of it! Anyway, she thought, she was in Pompeii now. The area’s countryside, after all, was called the land of Poppies. Quickly, yet carefully, she poured the cart’s contents into her mouth. As always, it tasted slightly sweet. She swallowed, drinking the powder in a series of large gulps. She finished it off, shaking the last bits of powder out of the cart and swallowing. At first, she felt nothing. Then she felt a strange, pleasant tingling in her breast. As she started to rub them lightly, the feeling became stronger. She put her hands under her bustier and rubbed vigorously with both hands, squeezing and kneading her big yet firm breasts and nipples as hard as she could.

The feeling became stronger, but she needed more. Scarlett reached out into the crowd of worshippers, easily grabbing several men with each hand. The men tried to squirm and wriggle between her fingers, but her grip was too strong. With one hand raised just above each breast, she squeezed as tight as she could, crushing their bodies and wringing out warm blood onto her breasts. Scarlett let the drained bodies fall onto the ground and rubbed the warm blood over her enormous tits. Scarlett felt her breasts becoming subtly bigger, heavier. A few minutes ago, her breasts weighed just over five thousand pounds each. Proportionately, she would have worn a DD cup. What were they now? E-cups? F-cups? No, they were bigger than that, she thought. J-cups, maybe? She savored the feeling of their immense weight shifting as she moved her hands. They were easily bigger than her head. They had to be K-cups, at least. The warm tingling sensation was growing into something almost orgasmic. Scarlett felt the tops of her breasts pouring out over the top of her bustier. She felt a pressure building. Her bra had been tight before after using the Milk, but not like this. Her breasts were bigger and heavier than ever before. Each breast must have weighed more than the Baroness’ elephant. Scarlett imagined how good it would feel to crush a man under her huge breasts. ‘I’m a goddess,’ she thought. ‘Why stop at just one? I could use even the most innocent part of my body to kill a dozen men. It would be effortless.’ She remembered how good it had felt earlier to feel a man’s head crushed against her clit. Why not crush a man with her breasts?

“My tits feel so… amazing,” Scarlett with a distant, enraptured voice. Every ounce of Scarlett’s being was engrossed with the cornucopia of new sensations she felt in her enormous tits. In a state of ecstasy, Scarlett stood up. Then, hands still down her bustier, Scarlett clumsily stumbled near the edge of her platform. Even in her tight bustier, her massive tits heaved as she stepped.

A dense crowd still surrounded the courtyard, with men pressed closely together by the side of the platform. A man in the front row looked up. He saw Scarlett standing there on the platform, a mountain of legs and curves and breasts. Had she been 5’5, her breasts still would have been bigger than any the man had seen. But standing at 80’ 5’’, Scarlett’s breasts were a serious contender for the eighth wonder of the world, and they seemed to be getting bigger by the second. She stumbled his way, the ground quaking with each clumsy step. Her next step would take her off the edge of the platform. Her next step, the man realized for an instant, would crush him.

Her foot cast a shadow over a group of men in the crowd. A couple of the men made a hasty attempt to escape; the rest didn’t. It didn’t matter. Her foot was as long and wide as a draft horse, delicate and feminine in appearance, yet incomprehensibly powerful. It came crashing down upon all of them. Ten men were trapped under her foot. For an instant, Scarlett forgot about her breasts, as she savored the feeling of bodies crushing under her feet. She felt the men falling down forcefully, their spines breaking. A tenth of a second after that, she reveled in the little crunches and pops as their ribs cracked, their chest cavities compressed, and their skulls popped. She felt their flesh squish softly, their warm blood squeezing out under her feet like juice from a squeezed orange. “You feel so soft under my feet,” Scarlett said, almost moaning. She stepped off of the platform with her other foot. She felt another group of men crunch as she shifted her full weight onto the foot. Her enormous tits bounced heavily as she landed.

Scarlett forced her hands out of her too-tight bustier. Her tits were even bigger now. ‘She heard a loud ripping sound as seams stretched and broke. Her bustiers were made to support an incredible amount of weight. The support straps were as thick as naval ropes, and twice as strong. But with tens of thousands of pounds jostling back and forth, pushing out with greater and greater force, it could only take so much. Had she stood at a normal height, her breasts would have been S-cups, easy. At eighty feet, though… well, the alphabet only went on for so long. Her massive tits, still held high by her tight bustier, covered her entire chest and part of her shoulders. Her tits poured out over her bra. With a series of pops and cracks, her bustiers’ support cables snapped, one by one. Scarlett savored the pain as her huge breast swung down with incredible force, slapping against her upper abdomen, then bouncing back up and jiggling. She imagined what it would feel like if her breasts came down on a man with the same force. As she lifted her breasts up with her hands, she noticed their incredible weight, but was also amazed at how perky they were for their size. They’re massive, she thought. But she wasn’t done growing yet. Far from it…

Quick Release

Scarlett felt the sensation in her breasts grow stronger and stronger. Pressure was building up, and she needed some kind of release for the tension. She needed every square inch of her breasts to feel stimulation, all at once. She grabbed and kneaded her enormous breasts as hard as she could, but even that wasn’t enough. Her breasts were still growing bigger and heavier, and her hands were quickly becoming insufficient. Her breasts were far bigger than she had ever imagined, and it was wonderful. She could barely wrap her arms around them now.

Scarlett felt a powerful desire to suck on her own nipples. She lifted her immense breasts up with both arms, though as huge as her breasts had grown, she could barely lift them. Her soft, pillowy breasts poured over the sides of her hands. Scarlett lifted her left nipple into her mouth, and started sucking. Her nipple was hard and engorged.

Then, she realized something that she hadn’t noticed before: there was a man hanging off the side of her nipple with both arms, clinging to the nipple for dear life. Scarlett licked him, fondling the man’s tiny body with her tongue. She toyed with him for a moment, before growing impatient and swallowing him. The man struggled for a moment as he slid down her throat, but it was no use. She savored the pleasurable sensations as his body slid down her throat. Scarlett had sacrificed another man upon the alter of her body, and it felt amazing.  She continued sucking on her own nipples, licking and biting them as she did, the thousands of tiny sensations adding up to an incredible pleasure.

Something drew Scarlett’s attention away from herself: the sensation of tiny limbs clawing against her leg. Crowds of men were going wild, pushing and clawing as they fought to be closer to their goddess. A few had climbed up onto her foot, and were trying to climb up her leg. The sensation was unpleasant. Scarlett raised her leg and tilted the point of her foot down, making the men cascade down her feet and off her toes. She then slowly, casually lowered her feet back down on top of the men. She felt their bodies squish and run between her toes.’ Just like stepping on bugs,’ she thought. ‘Only squishier. All those weak little bodies, crushed under my feet…’ The sensation awakened something in her.

“LISTEN,” called Scarlett, “ALL OF YOU!” Her booming voice rang out through the city. Every man who heard her felt the command of her voice, the lust, and the need, and the power in it. Scarlett rarely had to raise her voice: everyone listens to a goddess, no matter how quietly they speak. But when she raised her voice, men found themselves unable to resist doing whatever she said. “Ahhhhh…. Yesss!!!,” she cried out. Then, regaining control, “WORSHIP MY TITS!” Scarlett’s voice had a savage, unstoppable lust in it. The very universe would bend its very laws to please her. With a boom, Scarlett suddenly fell to her knees, then regained her balance and lied down on her stomach. She felt her immense breasts crush a few men, squishing them against the hard ground like bugs. It felt good.

“WORSHIP MY ENORMOUS TITS!” Scarlett’s voice boomed, at once commanding and sultry. Her voice set off the crowd like wildfire. Men came running toward her, fighting and pushing each other in a mad dash to touch her breasts. No one could resist her siren song, even if it meant walking to their death.

The crowd surrounded Scarlett’s breasts as she laid on her stomach. Those who could get close enough groped and rubbed the sides of her breasts. Others fought and pushed to get closer. Men clamored and climbed over each other trying to get closer to the goddess. Even so, none of them came close to reaching the top of her huge breasts. Scarlett felt men licking and rubbing her huge nipples, as she vigorously rubbed the top of her breasts. Many of them were rough with her: some grabbed, pulled, even bit her nipples. It felt good. But for her, the men weren’t rough enough. She needed more. Following a primal urge, Scarlett grabbed her nipples and the area around them with both hands, kneading and pulling on them forcefully. It was an intense sensation, painful even, but for Scarlett, a little pain only enhanced the pleasure.

Her breasts were still getting bigger: she could barely reach her nipples now. Scarlett felt under her hands a dozen men suckling and grabbing her breasts. She felt the men fighting and wriggling around her. She could tell some of them were starting to suffocate. Scarlett felt her soft breasts give way as she pressed harder and harder with her hands… but they only gave so much. Her soft breasts spilled over her hands as she pressed harder and harder, and felt the bodies of the men starting to compact. A second later, Scarlett felt a delightful squishing feeling, felt the blood ooze out between her breasts and her fingers. Still, she needed more.

Scarlett felt a sensation of pressure building up in her breasts. Scarlett needed even more attention. Grabbing her breasts near the nipple, Scarlett raised her breasts several feet off the ground. As she massaged and kneaded her breasts, Scarlett felt dozens of men scamper under her enormous breasts, rubbing and licking them from beneath. It ticked… as she giggled, Scarlett struggled to hold her huge breasts up, even as they grew heavier and heavier. But it wasn’t enough. ‘I want more,’ she thought. I want to feel them all crushed under the weight of my tits. What power…’ Slowly, Scarlett let her breasts fall a bit lower. Their incredible mass knocked the men down, breaking some of their bones and backs. She let them a little lower. She felt the incredible pressure of her breasts weighing upon the men, felt men struggling to get out from under her, unable to move under the incredible weight. She felt some men struggling to breathe, trying to get air as her huge, soft breasts smothered them. Finally, she let go. Each of her massive breasts weighed well over a hundred thousand pounds, with a thousand pounds pressing down on each man. Men struggled for air, but found none, yelled, yet received no aid. Here and there, a bone cracked, a skull popped. Yet with so many of them, the weight wasn’t enough to crush most of the men. Not completely. Not yet.

 “I’m going to crush all of your little bodies under my tits. It’s going to feel so good, squeezing the  blood out of your pathetic little bodies…”

Using all her strength, Scarlett grabbed her immense breasts and heaved them into the air. Then, moving her hands above her breasts, she pushed down as hard as she could. *BOOM!*Her breasts hit the ground with the force of a bomb, leaving two shallow craters in the ground. She felt dozens of tiny bodies below her smashed into a million tiny pieces, bits of flesh and bone crushed into giblets. The ensuing shockwave sent blood flying in every direction. ‘What a sensation,’ Scarlett thought… ‘Those tiny little bodies crushed under my breasts, warm blood running like milk under them…’ Scarlett rubbed under her breasts, feeling the dozens of men, now reduced to mush by the godlike power of her tits. For a second, her desire quelled, and she felt a kind of relief. Then she noticed her breasts were still getting bigger, fuller… and the pressure was building up.

Unrequited Love

The Baroness of Pompeii, clad in exotic robes, sat on her elephant, in the far end of Pompeii’s huge central courtyard. Her cavalry guards waited behind her. In the midst of the chaos, the Governess’ assistant, Bast, had discreetly led Epona and her guards out of the fray. In the distance Egypt’s Governess, Scarlett, was lying on the ground, having her way with her worshippers. Epona stood almost half a mile away from Scarlett now, but as huger as Scarlett was, it was easy enough to see her. Scarlett’s breasts had grown to huge proportions since gorged herself on Milk of the Poppy. Her massive, round breasts jutted out from her chest like two huge globes. Around her was a frenzied crowd, thousands in number. The cobblestone streets around her were drenched in blood, the same deep red that covered much of Scarlett’s body. A color that could almost be called scarlett. Epona wondered if that was how the goddess got her name.

As Epona watched, Scarlett reared up onto all fours like a hungry wolf. She lifted her posterior back and stetched her chest upward, showing off her round ass and thick curves. Even with her back arched, Scarlett’s breasts still pressed against the ground. She grabbed a few men with one hand and tossed them down her mouth, throwing her head back as she dropped them in. Her black hair flung behind her head.

Epona looked down at Bast. The dark-skinned, bespectacled servant looked small next to the Baroness. On foot, each of them stood about twelve feet high. Epona, however, sitting on her enormous elephant, sat nearly twice as high as Bast. She towered over her male cavalry guards.

“Tell me, servant,” Epona said with a bemused smile. “How many men has she killed today? Four hundred? Five?”

“I’ve counted 847 so far.”

Epona looked amazed. “Eight hundred forty seven men killed by one woman, in one day, purely for her own amusement?”

“I know! Usually she’d have killed at least twice that many men by now. I think she’s just a bit tired after the trip. Or maybe she needs some Red Spice. I just hope she’s okay… I mean, she’s not as young as she used to be…”

“That is not exactly what I meant…”

Epona watched as Scarlett, now laying on her back, shoved handfuls of men into her pussy. Her huge breasts, flattened by gravity, covered her entire chest and spilled over her sides. Scarlett turned on her side, fingering herself with a blood-covered hand. Her body crushed a few dozen men as she shifted onto her side. Several, at least, were crushed by her immense breasts.

Epona was amazed. “What incredible power. Twenty men just disappeared into her fierce womanhood, never to return.”

Bast looked on with concern. “Twenty-three, actually. Isn’t it a beautiful sight? I remember once in Luxor when she shoved three hundred men into pussy! I mean, not all at once, of course. She doesn’t have that kind of energy any more, though.. And I guess the day is still young… But still, I worry that someday, she might not be able to keep up this kind of lifestyle, you know? Which would be too bad. This is her art. It’s what she loves. I’d hate to see her lose that.”

Scarlett’s lustful voice echoed through the sprawling courtyard, as she shoved her fingers deep into her vagina. “My cunt will crush you all!”

Bast’s eyes were tearing up a bit. “I mean, look at her… She’s just such a wonderful, beautiful person… I know that I may come off as a bit cold, and professional, but I really, deeply care about her. Scarlett is the world to me. Her, and Cleo, that beautiful young woman… She’s all grown up now, but I still worry about her. The poor dear’s looked so thin the last few weeks. And Scarlett, look at those magnificent tits. I’ve never seen them that big… never seen them that beautiful…“ Bast looked over towards Scarlett, who was still lying down, rubbing herself.

Scarlett moaned. “I’ll mash you into jelly with my pussy!” True to her words, Scarlett shoved her entire fist into her vagina. Thick, red fluid ran down the sides of her huge labia.

“You know,” Bast said, “I’ve never told anyone this before, but… Sometimes I think I might be in love with Scarlett. Not that I’d ever tell her, of course. It would be so embarrassing, a mere personal assistant in love with a goddess… She’d probably put me in her harem.” Bast smiled. “You know, then again, maybe I should tell her…”

Scarlett was lying on her stomach. Her massive breasts started to expand, stretching out in front of her. They grew larger and larger, pushing outward and crushing men as they grew. But still, pressure was building up. Then, a trickle of white milk started to run down Scarlett’s nipples. It was like water dripping through cracks in a levee, moments before it bursts.

Scarlett’s voice rang out, strong and full of passion. “All of you… suck my tits!”

Men clamored and fought, trying to catch the milk as it trickled out. Some tried to climb up onto her breasts, but without success. Even the tallest men stood a few feet short of her nipples. The milk was coming out faster now. Scarlett shifted, angling her breasts so that her nipples were only a few feet off the ground. A man was crushed, but the crowd paid it no heed; the men gathered around her nipples in a frenzy, viciously sucking and licking her huge, engorged nipples. Each of them was several feet around, and stuck out almost two feet, as big as an ottoman. Scarlett’s head was leaned to the side, her eyes closed. Her breasts felt like they were going to burst. Still, they were getting bigger. And the pressure was still building up…

Bast’s usually composed face suddenly twisted into a strange expression. She looked up to Scarlett, then back to Epona, with a crazed, hungry look in her eyes. “I… I think really I need to go over there. Now. For… for business reasons. To help her with those massive tit—with her breasts. The milk.”

Bast started to walk towards Scarlett. No one tried to stop her.

Bast

The couriers were running to catch Bast, but it wasn’t easy to catch her. First they had to get around the Baroness’ cavalry and mounted elephant guards, which blocked most of the street. Then they had to catch up to her. Scarlett’s lithe, coffee-skinned assistant stood just over 12 feet tall in high heels, and she had long legs for her body. The man had to make four or five strides for each one she made, and Bast was walking briskly. She was driven by a single-minded purpose. Running as fast as he could, the man eventually caught up to her. Standing just under six feet high, he came up to her hips.

“Hello, Bast? I’m from the trans-Imperial postal service.”

Bast didn’t stop. Annoyed, she said, “I don’t care.”

“There was a shipping error. We…”

“I’m really not in the mood for this.”

“It will just take one moment.”

Bast hated couriers. She thought about stopping, but then looked over at her boss, Scarlett. She was lying on her stomach the better part of a mile from Bast, on the opposite end of a huge courtyard, surrounded by a huge crowd. ‘Eighty-two feet of pure woman,’ Bast thought. ‘She’s stunning, all long black hair and feminine curves in her tight red corset. A corset which is no longer able to hold in her huge, beautiful breasts. Thank god for Milk of the Poppy. Those beautiful, immense tits… They look like they’re going to burst. I can’t even imagine how much milk is going to come pouring out,’ she thought. ‘Scarlett. Just the name is beautiful. So beautiful, and pure, and innocent…’ As she watched, Scarlett grabbed a few men out of the crowd. She shoved them into her vagina, moaning.

Bast bit her lip at the sight. “Ahh, yeah, crush them all…” Bast said aloud. ‘Okay,’ Bast thought, still walking quickly towards Scarlett, ‘maybe pure and innocent aren’t the right words to use. But her beauty… Her incredible power… Her complete and utter devotion to her every desire and passing whim… The way she uses men, eats them, crushes them, just to please herself… It makes me want do anything to please her. I’ve been a loyal, hard-working servant to her for decades. I’ve worked my ass off. I’ve been respectful and humble and polite—even to men. Even to fucking couriers. I’ve done every kind of damage control known to man. I’ve done everything I can for her and her daughter. I don’t even know the last time I’ve gotten off myself… I need this. I just need to feel one of those huge, engorged nipples rubbing against my—’

“Ma’am!” Bast’s train of thought was interrupted by one of the couriers. He was running alongside her, and then just in front of her, as she marched on. The other two couriers quickly caught up. “Bast, please, I just need a moment of your time.”

“Will you please shut up! I’m really not in the mood for this…”

Bast had never hurt anyone before. Well, not directly, at least. She had helped Scarlett do terrible things to countless people, sure. But for her, that business: she was in charge of the logistics, she did what she did out of loyalty and professionalism. She usually kept a calm, reserved, demeanor. Bast couldn’t remember the last time she felt so passionate, or so angry. ‘For some man to have the nerve to get in MY way, to talk to me as like he’s my EQUAL, to interrupt my fantasy... It’s all too much. I really, really hate couriers. You know,’ she thought, ‘my legs are getting a bit tired from walking. Maybe I could take a break…’

The courier was running backwards just in front of Bast. He looked up from just in front of her hips, and saw her expression becoming more and more enraged. He was a bit worried: Bast wasn’t a goddess like Scarlett, but at just under twelve feet, she wasn’t exactly small. A twelve foot woman can weight over a thousand pounds, and can easily overpower a grown man. The courier had seen a woman not much bigger than Bast throw a man twenty feet into a brick wall because of a rude remark. He’d heard stories of women her size stomping on men, or tearing them limb from limb: to an upset giantess, a 6’5’’ man is about as intimidating as a ragdoll. Still, he had to do his job.

“Please stop, woman. I just need to tell you one thing… and have you fill out some paperwork… This really shouldn’t be that hard!”

Bast raised a long leg as high as the courier’s face, placed her foot against his chest, and shoved him down to the ground with her heel. She stepped onto his chest with her right foot, holding him down. ‘This little bug had the nerve to raise his voice to me. I’ll show him who he’s dealing with. I weight just over eight hundred and fifty pounds,’ she thought. ‘I could step on this pitiful little man without crushing him—or with.’ She shifted some of her weight onto her right foot, pressing hard onto his chest. The courier let out a pitiful squeak. The other couriers stood by her side, making no attempt to flee. They could have been bound by fear, courage, duty, or lust. At any rate, none of them tried to run.

Bast stared down at him. “You dare raise your voice to me, you insolent little piece of shit? You? A man? A courier? What did you have to tell me that was so fucking important?”

“I… I… I just… The red…” He struggled to talk, but couldn’t get out more than a couple of words under her weight. The guard looked up through her long legs, seeing the black panties under her professional, anachronistic miniskirt. She was beautiful, thin and lithe, with milk chocolate skin and delicate features. Her curves were narrow but undeniably feminine. Her perky breasts weren’t exactly big, but were the perfect size for her slender build. His thoughts drifted away from his situation, and towards her. He tried to speak again. “I… I… I…”

Bast shifted more of her weight onto him. She heard a few of his ribs crack, before he made another pitiful squeak. Mockingly, she said, “I.. I… I… Is that all you can say? Then I guess whatever you were going to tell me wasn’t so important after all?” Her anger had turned to a twisted amusement at the man’s torment. ‘I think I’m starting to like this,’ she thought.

Bast chastised the poor courier. “Are you looking up my skirt? How dare you!” She pointed to his crotch. “Is that an erection? That pitiful, tiny thing?”

She turned around, moving her left leg into the air, then down between the man’s legs. A few more ribs cracked as the heel on her right foot twisted around. Her left foot, nearly two feet long and seven inches wide, dangled just above the man’s tiny crotch.

“You pitiful little worm! How dare you look at me licentiously! You are not allowed to be aroused without my permission!”

“I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t fucking apologize unless I tell you to! You will worship my body! Worship me!”

“Yes… ma’am…”

“Ma’am?” She let her foot come down slowly. Her sharp heel pressed just a bit against his balls. “You will only address me as your grace!”

“Yes, your… Your grace!”

“Kneel before me!”

“But I can’t… your… grace…”

“You will do as I ask!” She pressed against him, ever so slightly harder.

“But, but… I can’t…”

“Kneel, or I’ll crush you!”

The man didn’t kneel: how could he? She was standing on his chest. Bast, of course, knew this. But it was fun, toying with him. ‘This is such a strange, wonderful feeling. I’m in complete control of his fate,’ she thought. ‘This annoying little courier is mine now. I have the power to let him live or die. I can do whatever I want with him, and no one would stop me. No one would care. Is this what it feels like to be a goddess? If being a goddess means crushing couriers, sign me up.’ She pressed down just a little bit more with her foot. The man let out another pitiful squeak. ‘I feel so powerful… I feel warm. I can’t remember the last time I was this wet. I could crush his pitiful little genitals with my heels. It wouldn’t even take any effort. But that’s almost too cruel, isn’t it? And I can’t even imagine how annoying his voice would be as a castrato. I just want to feel his body crush under my feet…’

Bast turned around again, digger her right heel deeper into the man’s chest. She held the toe of her left foot just above the man’s head.

Bast’s mouth twisted into a wicked smile. “I told you to kneel!”

She stomped the toe of her foot down as hard as she could. The man’s head splattered like a melon, spraying blood and brain on her black heels. Her heel hit the ground hard. ‘Ahh, yes! That felt amazing. It was easier than I thought. Just one, swift motion… His pitiful little skull is nothing but a few little chunks stuck to the side of my heel. I can’t believe I’ve never done this before. I doubt Scarlett would mind letting me have a few of her slaves now and again. Men are cheap, after all. Cheap, and plentiful.’

Just then, she noticed the courier to her right turned. He was trying to run away. But Bast had long arms, and as thin as they were, she was surprisingly strong. She deftly grabbed his collar with her right hand, yanking him back. ‘That was easy.’ Suddenly, the man’s collar tore, and he jerked away in fear.

There was something about the sight of a man running away in fear. It brought out something primal, something instinctual. All of a sudden, he was hunted, and she was the hunter. A panther. A lion. A cat. Bast felt something she wasn’t used to feeling: a simple, primal urge she couldn’t restrain. She pounced on the man like a puma, knocking him onto his back. Her weight crushed his legs and broke most of his ribs. ‘Primal,’ she thought. Without another thought, she dove in for the man’s neck. With a single, mad bite, her teeth ripped into the man’s jugular. She threw her head to the side, ripping out half of the man’s neck. She could feel the tendons rip between her teeth. Slowly, she got up. She wasn’t that hungry right now: the neck would do. ‘That felt amazing,’ she thought. ‘Completely and utterly wrong, but amazing. I’m dripping right now. Such. Fucking. Power. I’ve had it all this time, and I’ve never even used it. Twelve feet, eight hundred fifty pounds of raw fucking power. I’m finally living up to my namesake. Bast, the Huntress. Bast, the cat goddess…’

She noticed the other courier cowering a few feet away from her. She walked over to him, smiling. “You. Don’t look so scared. I got a bit… carried away with your friends… I’ve never been much for couriers, I’m afraid. But you… you look nice. You’re kind of cute. I might even let you live… If you can get me off.” Bast slipped off her black panties playfully. She lifted the man up by his collar. Standing up, he stood barely as high as her crotch. She grabbed his head, shoving his face between her legs. His head was buried in her huge womanhood. The man struggled to breath.

“Suck my clit. Lick my pussy. Get me off, and I’ll let you live.” He did his best, trying to get a little air here and there. But Bast held his head tight against her crotch. It felt good… She felt him trying to breathe. He tried to say something, but only managed a comical “Mmm, mmmmmm mmm…”

“What’s wrong, is my huge, soaking pussy making it hard to breathe? Oh, yeah… Harder… lick my clit, and maybe I’ll let you have some air… Or I’ll smother your face in my pussy…” He kept licking her clit. “Yes! Yes, you little worm. You’re my slave now, you better get me off. I work for Scarlett, I can do whatever the hell I want… Yes… Yes… Oh, make me cum…” She felt her thighs squeezed tight around his head, her legs wrapped around his tiny body.

“I didn’t tell you to stop sucking my fucking clit, did I?” Bast shoved his face harder. He sucked her clit hard, too hard, almost biting. But it felt good. “Oh yeah…” Bast writhed in pleasure. “Yes!” Her knees wobbled. “Oh, god, I’m going to come…” The pleasure was almost too much for Bast. She felt herself twisting around, then falling to the side. She felt her hips squeezing together tight around the poor courier’s neck. Then, she felt her ass land on him, hard. She felt him crushing under her. It felt good.

“Well now I’ll have to get my dress cleaned. What a pain. I’m sorry about that, little man…” But Bast didn’t really feel sorry, at least not about the couriers. She looked over, and saw Scarlett, still eating and crushing her way through the huge crowd. How had she forgotten? ‘Those huge, beautiful tits. Those hips, that ass… I need her, now.’ She even thought of her responsibilities for a moment. ‘She needs me to. The courier—maybe I should see what they were trying to tell me…’

Bast looked at a letter the courier was carrying, and read to herself. “There was a mistake… ‘The Red Spice was bleached to make it less attractive to robbers… Well, that’s standard practice in these parts. Wait… here, it says that it was mixed in with the Milk of the Poppy that Scarlett swallowed earlier… Oh my.”

‘If what the letter said is true, if there was a huge shipment of Red Spice mixed with the powdered Milk of the Poppy that Scarlett swallowed earlier… It could make her grow even bigger. It could send Scarlett into a crazed, sexual frenzy. Well, an even bigger one than usual. And Cleopatra, too, after she drinks the milk… And me, if I decide to suck on those huge, beautiful tits of hers… Maybe I should tell her,’ Bast thought, as she started to walk towards Scarlett. ‘Or maybe not…’

Bast smiled to herself. “I wonder how big she’ll get, anyway?”

As she approached Scarlett, Bast slowed to take in the wonderland around her. Thousands of people were gathered around in some kind of mad festival, dancing and running and laughing and screaming, worshiping and sacrificing and begging to be spared, sometimes all at once. Blood ran down through the cracks in the cobblestones, bones cracked under the revelers' feet, and no one seemed to care. And there in the middle of all the glorious chaos was Scarlett, ravenous as ever.

She was sprawled out in the center of the crowd. On top of what had been the crowd.

The moaning. Scarlett's moans of pleasure rang out for a dozen miles in every direction. It should have been ear-piercing, and yet instead of pain, Bast was overcome with a sensation of overwhelming pleasure. And then, another sensation, even more powerful: a desire for more. 

'Scarlett. What a woman,' thought Bast. 'What a Goddess. 'How lucky am I to have a literal sex-goddess as my boss? Scarlett. Sexy Scarlett. Vuloptuous Scarlett. Insatiable Scarlett. Beautiful, pure Scar-- okay, maybe pure isn't the right word to use. But gods, look at her. Eighty five feet of woman. Only I dare say, she looks like she's gotten a bit taller. And maybe a bit thicker, too. Those tits... My goddess. They look like they're going to burst. I need her... Now... Those tits...'

Bast stared at Scarlett, stared at her thick hips and slender waist, at her dark features and her mountainous, engorged breasts. Bast stared at the crimson that covered much of her chest, the crimson that somehow, rather than making her look barbaric, somehow made her all the more regal... Bast stared and stared, until her mind emptied, and the world outside of Scarlett faded away. She walked towards Bast slowly, half-awake, as the goddess' beauty drew her in like a fly to a pitcher plant. 

***

Desire. It was what drove Scarlett. Desire was her animus, her reason for being, and right now it was in full force. Thousands of people were gathered around her, and she wanted all of them, needed all of them. 

"Ahh, yes... Yes... All of you, come here... Worship me... Worship my tits..."

The crowd could scarcely disobey her command. The little people gathered close around her, doing their best to reach up to grope her. Scarlett grabbed them by the handful, crushing them between her breasts, and stuffing them up her every orifice. Too much, for Scarlett, was never enough. 

The sensations. There were so many of them, and Scarlett savored each one. The dozens of little people squirming around inside of her belly, gasping for air that they would never find, their thin skin gnawed at by the acid of her stomach. The dozens more stuffed into her pussy, tight as they would fit, squirming hopelessly, drowning in the thick juices of her vaginal fluids. More of them crushed between her breasts, and under her ass, as she writhed around in pleasure. And there were more sensations yet... The warm euphoria of her already gigantic body, growing larger and larger. A day ago, she had been eighty feet tall... Now, she was easily over a hundred, and growing larger. With every passing moment, the little people seemed to grow smaller, their tiny, helpless bodies growing weaker by the moment. And the greatest sensation of all: power.

Then there was the fullness of her tits, growing heavier by the moment, so big that she could hardly see over them, so big that she could no longer lift them. So full of milk... So ready for release... The pressure built up, growing in pain and pleasure, until she couldn't take it anymore. She needed release.

Scarlett lowered her breasts down, crushing dozens of men into the ground. And yet the survivors seemed not only undeterred, but driven all the further to serve their goddess. They pressed and rubbed against her breast, grabbing and pulling and sucking and biting until her skin was tinted red. But Scarlett still wanted more. She grabbed her breasts as tight as she could, crushing more men into the fat of her breasts, grabbing and kneading until it felt like her breasts would burst. And burst they did.

There was a deep rumbling that shook the very ground. A man stood in front of Scarlett's left breast, licking the inside of the hole of her nipple. A single drop of milk ran onto his tongue. Then another, and another. He lapped it all up, as the drips became more frequent, and the rumbling grew louder.

Then, in an instant, the levees burst. A torrent of milk came rushing out from her nipples in a powerful stream, with the force of an oncoming tidal wave. The twin jets tore through the crowd, eviscerating dozens of men and sending them high into the air, before their bodies crashed hard against the ground. Where the streams hit flesh or bone, it ripped through as easily as a rock might tear through a wet piece of paper. 

http://redfiredoglizard.deviantart.com/art/Milk-2-Ima-Firin-Mah-Lazor-443289984?q=gallery%3Aredfiredoglizard%2F19960461&qo=6

Scarlett marveled at the glorious carnage, but not content to merely watch, she grabbed her nipples, squeezing her breasts to enhance the stream, and maximize the destruction. The twin blasts ruptured out into the crowd like two great bursts of energy, shredding dozens one instant, then dozens more the next. And all the while, even as the pressure started to die down, a pool formed in the center of the city square. The depressed ground of the square filled with warm, thick milk, which soon became deeper a man could stand. And even so, the great force of the twin streams stirred the pool wildly, whipping it up into a chaotic sea of milk. Tall waves of milk threw men around, back and forth, as others struggled and gasped for air. 

Full image here: http://redfiredoglizard.deviantart.com/art/Milk-443089295?q=gallery%3Aredfiredoglizard%2F19960461&qo=7