Chapter 2: Capua

Ten years later… the demographics of the Roman Empire had changed drastically. Ever since Calpurnia had ravaged the streets of Rome, eaten all the Senators, and her husband, power had been rapidly shifting in the Empire. Ninety percent of Roman women were now all above ten feet tall, the tallest was the three hundred foot Calpurnia. Powerful men all across the land had been overthrown by their larger stronger wives. The male citizens were rounded up in stockades as they were sent to various parts of the Empire, as slaves. Some went to forced labor camps, gladiator school, or were eaten by hungry masses of womenfolk.  The worst of the treatment came from the home bound prisoners, these men were either former husbands or lovers. Now, they were used and abused as sex toys, while they slowly lost all masculinity.  These debased men tended to every need of their master, such as massaging, pleasuring, even painting their toenails.  The slow degradation of the male species had started…

The gladiatorial school of Baiatus stood on a slight knoll in the sloping valleys of Capua. The mason building stood erect, as the dull sound of wood was heard. The rudas (lusoria arma) splintered as the wooden swords met. “Parry…Thrust…Parry… Disarm,” yelled an instructor as the combatants finished their drill. “Drop,” the instructor yelled as the combatants started cranking out pushups. “Done,” he said, as the men recovered. “Go to the showers and clean up, but remember tomorrow is the coena libera (last meal),” the instructor said. The two combatants nodded before they sprinted off to the showers as the sun slowly dipped behind the rolling hills.

The cold water ran down Julius Marius’s back as he shivered in the darkness. His shaven head, rough stubble and muscular body suggested tough training at the school. The scars of multiple campaigns for Rome lined his body. A black tattoo adorned his left shoulder with the words, “Pia Fidelis,” (Faithful and Loyal) the motto of the Thirteenth Legion. The blood slowly dripping from his hands as he braced against the wall. The piercing black eyes stared into the grey concrete, as they looked off into a parallel world. He remembered it like it was yesterday….

Julius slowly bit on a piece of bread, as he chewed thoughtfully. His wife, Livilla Marius, and son, Titus Marius, sat before him, meticulously biting into their fruit. The black hair of his wife Livilla hung gracefully over her shoulders, as her dark blue eyes looked at Julius. The white toga hinted at a slim voluptuous figure of a beautiful woman. Titus sat only a couple feet from his mother, as his long blond hair and strong features focused intently on his meal.

As Julius glanced around the small villa, his eyes focused on his engraved gladius nestled in the corner. In the wood was engraved a silver horse gracefully galloping on the wooden hilt (calpulus). Suddenly, an earthquake shook the small villa as the three occupants looked worriedly outside. The silverware on the table rattled, as the earthquakes continued.  The family knew what was coming, as they had heard rumors from Rome and the rest of the empire. Suddenly the earthquakes stopped as a thunderous voice was heard. “All male residents of the town of Potenza step outside, lethal force shall be used if necessary,” the voice boomed. Julius slowly got up from the table, as he looked into the worried eyes of Livilla and Titus. “I’ll be back,” he whispered as he sprinted to grab his armor (Lorica Segmentata) and gladius.

As he returned donned in his full battle gear, he said, “If I do not return, take this,” as he handed his son the white toga of a man,” Protect our home and your mother.” The boy’s eyes welled up in tears as he looked at his stoic father. Titus slowly got up from his chair, as he hugged his father. Livilla then sprinted to embrace Julius, her toga fluidly moving as she ran. Her arms tightly wrapped around him, as she sobbed on his shoulder. Julius held his family tight as they sobbed, his expression remained stoic but inside of him, his emotions were exploding. All he wanted to do was raise a family in peace, and farm his land. He just wanted to let it go, and cry with his wife and son, but he knew the dangers of the giant women coming from Rome. Rumors had swirled that they were rounding up the male population to use as slaves and sex toys. Julius knew his obligation as a man was to protect his family at all costs. He slowly broke off the hug as his teary wife and son looked at him. The wet tears dripping off his armor, as he turned to walk out the door. Before leaving, he turned around and looked at his family for one last time, their stricken faces burning into his mind, before slowly pushing the door open.

Julius slowly emerged from the house as he surveyed the situation before him. In the center of town were a group of giantess legionnaires corralling a group of men into a column like cattle. A group of women and children sat in a corner crying as their fathers were taken away. The tallest giantess, about sixty feet, stood off to the side directing the operations.  The other five, around twenty feet tall, stood herding the men. One of the heavily armed legionnaires slowly turned around and walked over to Julius. “Drop your weapons, the Empress demands all male slaves” she snarled. The two words slave and empress struck him slightly as he processed the information.  

The twenty foot woman suddenly reached out to take a hold of Julius, but he quickly drew his gladius and cut her hand off.  The amputated hand falling to the dark ground, as bright red blood spurted out of her arm coloring the soil. She quickly retracted the arm as she howled in pain, dropping to her knees. Julius quickly swung the gladius as it cut into the soft flesh of the neck, as the jugular burst. The female soldier’s eyes darkened as her body slumped over, a dark pool of blood coagulating next to her face. Julius stared into the lifeless eyes, as he stood victorious over the body of his enemy.

The other four legionnaires took off towards Julius as they drew their swords. The first legionnaire lunged towards him, her blade flashing as it barely missed his head. A counterattack ensued, as he slashed at her elbow, creating a fast flowing stream of blood. The next legionnaire, raised her foot as it struck him dead on, as he vaulted backwards. Julius gasped for breath as the foot was placed upon his chest. “Let’s crush this little fucker,” the second legionnaire said as she slowly increased the pressure, his ribs starting to strain as his armor bent inward. It felt as if his internal organs were going to push through his mouth, as Julius coughed blood spurting out of his mouth. “No,” a larger voice boomed, “this one shall be a gladiator”.  The four giantesses looked around at their sixty foot tall leader standing over the crowd of frightened men. “But he just killed Atia, we should end him now,” screamed the legionnaire. “This one lives,” said the leader, “Now put him in the crowd and let’s get moving”. Julius was roughly shoved forward as the four legionnaire’s silently glared at him.  “Move,” the leader spoke, as the crowd of men slowly shuffled forward to their new destination.

 It took over two weeks to reach Capua, half of the group had already died. Most had died from dysentery and malnutrition, but the others had been eaten by the hungry giantesses. The cannibalization of his fellow kind, only added to the fueling anger inside of Julius. He swore that day, that he would have his vengeance on these people. As they slowly approached Capua, Julius and two other men split off from the group heading towards the gladiator school. The larger portion of the group headed off towards labor camps in the north.

Julius eyes slowly focused after having a brief but intense flashback. His blurred hands slid down the wall as he gazed at the bloody pool below him. Julius slowly dried himself off with the rough wool towel, as he made his way back to his cell. As he lay on his bed Julius remembered that tomorrow could be his last day on earth, as his body shuddered with at the magnitude of the thought. He then prayed to the gods that they would deliver him a fruitful victory in the arena. Julius then turned over on his side, and drifted to sleep.

The morning came quickly, as Julius rose to attend the last meal. He sat silently while the other gladiators indulged themselves in the bountiful feast before them. Decadent entrees lined the table as they were quickly consumed by the hungry horde. Julius knew this would not be his last meal, because he knew he would win.  “I shall kill all who stand before me,” thought Julius, “I shall return to my family” he swore. Once finished with the meal, the gladiators went to their rooms to prepare for the upcoming fights.

The metal door swung open as Julius emerged into the small arena clad in his armor, his gladius and scutum (shield) swinging loosely from his hands. The sweat rolled down his back as he gazed around the fifty foot tall arena. Off to his right sat the magnificent Cornelia Murcia, the new owner of the gladiatorial school. The seventy foot tall blonde woman sat imposingly as she smirked at the two combatants. Her large figure jutted out the top of the arena, as her personal slaves attended to her every need. A large clay pot sat next to her, as she popped a medium size man into her bloody mouth. The men were almost like popcorn to her, as she hungrily disposed of them. Even in the midst of her cannibalizing the men, she had an almost unworldly beauty to her. The long blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, the white toga showed off her massive soft breasts and firm ass.  

The curvaceous figure taunted all the lustful men nearby but no one dared to approach the “goddess,” or risk being eaten. One of the slaves attending to her was the former owner of the arena Lentulus Batiatus, before she made him her personal slave. He massaged her foot rapidly, as his calloused hands worked the large feet. Cornelia sat impatiently waiting for the battle to begin. 

To his left and center stood the mobs of dirty plebeians, who eagerly thirsted for blood.  These bestial people threw food, and sometimes even fecal matter into the arena, as they squirmed in their seats. Ten feet in front of Julius, stood a bare-chested tall black warrior from the plains of Africa. The warrior before him was a Retiarii, a net fighter, who was armed with a net and a trident. These types of fighters were lightning fast, and could quickly take down a slower heavily armed fighter. Julius was classified as a Secutores, which was a heavily armed gladiator armed with a standard gladius and a scutum. Julius wore an Ocrea, or metal greave, on the lower left leg.

His right arm and wrist was protected by a manica of tied leather. The two warriors took a slight bow as they prepared to fight, the sun bleached sand heating up the musky arena. Suddenly, the Retiarii dashed forward, his trident slashing forward as Julius parried it with his scutum. The warrior took a step back to assess the abilities of Julius. His brow glistening with sweat as Julius inched his way forward to close gap. Both men breathed heavily, as they continued to attack and parry. The chinking of the gladius and the trident sounded throughout the arena, as the crowd roared. All of a sudden, the net came flying forth as it pinned Julius’s foot tripping him over. His face collided with the hot soil, as he saw the trident flying towards his chest, pulling his scutum up. The trident bounced off the shield, as Julius brought the blade of his gladius down upon the net effectively cutting himself free.

The trident then came forward towards his neck, but Julius rolled out of the way, as he cut the wooden handle of the weapon off with his gladius. The Retiarii, disarmed and dazed stumbled back. Julius hopped up off the ground, as he quickly advanced towards the Retiarii. Out of the blue, three heavily armed Gallus warriors appeared in the arena. The first two carried the standard load for gladiators, a simple gladius and a scutum. The last Gallus carried a heavy lance, which swung around his head. Julius brazenly charged forward, as the first Gallus struck out foolishly. Dropping his shield, Julius parried with his gladius as he brought his left fist around landing at the base of the Gallus’s temple. Then the blade of the sword buried itself in the stomach of the first opponent, his steaming internal organs splayed out across the ground, as his screams echoed throughout the arena. The second Gallus, ran up screaming, his sword held high, as he charged forward. Julius easily ducked under the sword, slashing the opponent across his chest.

The second Gallus turned around expecting to charge again, but was met with a sharp cut to the neck as he dropped to the ground, blood spurting from his wound. Julius turned around after slaying his first two opponents, and took a look at the two left. One was the disarmed Retiarii, and the lance Gallus which had held back. Picking up the sword of the dead Gallus, Julius chucked the sword towards the Retiarii. The blade flipping over itself as it buried itself the Retiarii’s chest, as he crumpled to the ground. About that time, the lance Gallus swung his heavy lance trying to hit Julius. As if in slow motion, Julius ducked the blow and drove the sword up through the bottom of his skull, the bits of brain matter flying out of his battered cerebrum.

The heavy Gallus hit the ground with a thud, as the crowd cheered wildly as they chanted, “*Tetraites, Tetraites, Tetraites”. The arena was strewn with organs, blood, and other pieces of matter. Julius walked up to the platform that held Cornelia, and yelled, “Are you not entertained? Is that not why you are here?” as he spit at the bloodied ground. The crowd was silenced in awe, at the insult the gladiator had hurled at Cornelia. Grabbing the hilt of his gladius, Julius went over to the fallen heavy Gallus. Reaching up above his head he brought the sword through the dead man’s neck severing it. Julius then grabbed the severed head, and wound back, as he threw the decapitated skull at the giantess. The skull landed on her toga, staining the pure white cotton with the splattered red blood. The crowd gasped in excitement at the unfolding events. “How dare you slave?” she yelled as she threw the head into the crowd, as she slowly stood up to her full height. “Come and fight me you overgrown bitch,” Julius shouted at the giantess. “I guess you will have to die by the sole, gladiator,” she snarled as she slowly walked forward. “Come forth…,” Julius said, as he smirked while holding the bloody gladius in his hand. The deadly but beautiful Cornelia slowly walked over to the small gladiator in the arena…

*Tetraites was discovered through graffiti found in Pompeii in 1817, Tetraites was documented for his spirited victory over Prudes.  Fighting in the murmillones style, he wielded a sword, a rectangle shield, a helmet, arm guards, and shin guards.  The extent of his fame was not fully comprehended until the late Twentieth Century, when pottery was found as far away as France and England which depicted Tetraites’ victories.