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.