The Log of Phineas Bradley


The Log of Phineas Bradley


April 20, 1860 - As a consequence of a storm of such frightful intensity that it beggars the imagination, I have found myself alone on a small tropical island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I have no idea if it already has a name, but I shall be calling it home for the foreseeable future. Of my shipmates, there is no sign. No sign either of the wreck itself, or the collected specimens of my travels. It is a miracle that I am alive and reasonably well and even more so that I have managed to retain my journal, and almost as importantly, a small toolbox from the Terrier which washed up alongside me.

Although I have not made any significant exploration, my new home includes a dramatic volcano to the south of me, hopefully dormant, rising at least seven thousand feet high by my best estimate, and a lower ridge of basalt cliffs extending from it to my north. I am extremely lucky that I was washed up onto the beach near a freshwater stream, and there appears to be a profusion of fruits and coconuts to sate my appetite, at least in the short term. 

I mourn for my lost compatriots, of course, but I must say that my new home would appear to be a paradise for a naturalist such as myself. Already, I’ve spied three species of insect I believe are unknown to science, and strange fruits of such a nature I’ve never heard tell. I look forward to examining them closer, and finding other such wonders!

But first, to survival! In the coming few days I hope to build a shelter a little inland from the shore to prevent destruction by a storm similar to the one that deposited me here, but close enough so that I might maintain a view of the ocean in case rescue one day floats by. I cannot but hope that that comes to pass sooner rather than later.


April 25, 1860 - I write this entry exhausted but proud, having built a small one-room shelter to the north of my stream, about 100 yards away, and on a small ridge of volcanic rock maybe 20 feet above sea level with a good view out into the lagoon and beyond. It’s a simple structure, and I daresay one that would earn a failing grade from any master carpenter, but rather neat given the circumstances. My new home takes advantage of a small natural cavity in the basalt ridge. I had but to create a rigid framework from a nearby stand of giant bamboo, as thick as my forearm (thank Providence for that toolbox!), and lash it together with dried palm fronds. Covered by additional fronds for walls, I believe it will suffice until I can build something more substantial.

I have, unfortunately, not seen a soul from the ill-fated Terrier.

I’ve grown tired of my diet of bananas and coconuts and look forward to the coming days when I might test out new fruits and maybe catch a fish from the lagoon. If successful, I will begin my exploration of the island in earnest.


April 27, 1860 - The red berries on the spiked bush are not fit for consumption. Rather, they are currently attempting to consume me from the inside out.


April 29, 1860 - I feel much better, now. The red berries are definitely not edible and lead to considerable abdominal distress, but I have discovered a rather delightful fruit that I believe has never been before seen by white men. The bush on which it grows is small, no more than six feet tall, I would say, with oval leaves three-inches long, shiny and green on top but fuzzy and pale underneath. The fruit is no bigger than the palm of my hand, slightly longer and narrower than a citron, but lumpier and bright red. The fruit splits open with the rap of a hammer or rock to reveal eight to twelve translucent red fruitlets much like those of a pomegranate but larger - about a half-inch in diameter and very plump with a dark juice that looks like blood and a seed only a thirty-second of an inch long. The juice smells of cherry and vanilla and cinnamon and other more exotic flavours it would require an artist to describe. I daresay, I could not stop myself from consuming the entire fruit after smelling it. I hope this experiment does not end like the last, but should this be my final entry, know that I died with my appetite for variety finally sated.


April 30, 1860 - I live, and in fact I believe that last night is the most restful that I’ve experienced since I’ve arrived on this island. Today I will begin to explore! I plan to hike up my stream to its source. Hopefully I will find new novel wonders along the way.


April 30, 1860 (contd.) - I have returned from my journey giddy with excitement. I have discovered a variety of new and unusual species along my hike (see the illustrations above. Note the peculiar scale of the hummingbird - nearly a foot long!) but that is not all. I followed my stream toward the central ridge of the island two or three miles in until I reached a small lake. This lake lay below a low point in the ridge, where a hundred-foot cliff to the south has been exposed and from which an underground stream emerges to plummet fifty feet into the lake’s pristine blue waters. Such a beautiful setting for what I found next! Next to the waterfall, and to the side closest to me, was a carved effigy of what I could only describe as a colossal woman! Well-worn from the elements, she was still discernible by her immense mammaries, nipples standing proud, the commanding glare of her carved eyes, her heavily-muscled arms akimbo, hands resting at her hips. Nearly twenty feet tall, she was carved deeply into the cliff, standing in a niche still connected to the cliff at her back. 

Before her stood what appeared to be an altar, maybe five feet tall and three feet square at the top. And on this altar was a fresh offering of various fruits and meat, still bleeding. Between the altar and the statue lay a rod of black obsidian as long as a man, two feet thick, one end flush with the base of the statue and one end with the altar, its curved surface a little bowed along the middle as if worn down by the elements.

I am not alone on this island!

Tomorrow I plan to sit in the forest and wait until my neighbors return. I hope they are friendly! We shall see.


May 4(?), 1860 - I am lucky to be alive. I know not what day it is, but I shall assume that at least three days have passed since I set my trap. 

On May 1st I once again trudged back to the secret lake and took pains to hide myself well in the trees, finding a perch in a teak tree from which to observe my quarry. The offering from the previous day was no longer fresh or perched on the altar, but rather scattered about and mostly consumed, by the animals of the forest, I assumed. It was a long wait, during which I entertained myself with the discovery of a new caterpillar - six inches long, red and green striped, with spines along its length from which tufts of white feathery hair spouted (extraordinary! Sketch above.)

I was absorbed in my discovery when I heard the splash of water. I looked down to the lake to see the form of a young woman, no older than twenty but definitely post pubescent, washing the altar clean and then stacking a new basket of fruits and meats to take its place. 

The girl was blonde, fair-skinned, albeit tanned, with European features! Naked but for a belt of leather from which hung several pockets and what appeared to be a knife, her full firm breasts bobbled with every movement, and I must admit that as a man two months at sea I became aroused. Where did this girl come from? Were there others? I could not imagine one so young living on the island alone.

I watched as she stood, tall and healthy with an athletic form I’ve only seen in ancient Greek statuary. She gracefully strode forward and stood before the statue and straddled the obsidian curb. I watched as she knelt and prostrated herself before the statue, her large shapely breasts bulging as they were pressed up against the volcanic glass. Then she sat up and slowly began chanting as she rubbed her sex back and forth along the column in a wonton display of sexuality. Except, I suppose, it was not wonton, for she did not know I was there. After I realized what she was doing, I averted my gaze, of course, but I could not keep from hearing her yelps of passion as they rose above the sound of the waterfall.

Eventually, after a crescendo, the sound abated. I looked back and watched as the girl swiftly dove into the lake and bathed herself, and then stepped to shore and disappeared into the trees to the south.

I waited a short time and then climbed down to follow her. She had chosen a well-worn path I had not noticed in my previous visit. I did not see her before me, but the way was obvious and I made good time. That is, until the attack.

Suddenly, a form sprung from the bushes and slammed into my side. I was thrown across the path and into the trees on the other side. These saved me from an immediate death, as a giant boar the size of a cow grunted and sized me up for another attack. He shifted and gained a better angle and lowered his head to gore me with his tusks. I shifted as well I could with bruised ribs to shield myself behind a tree. The boar charged once again and I felt a piercing pain in my hip as a tusk pierced me in the side. The force of it slammed my head against the tree, and my vision became blurry. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was the blonde girl jumping onto the beast’s back, plunging her obsidian blade into its neck.

The next days were a blur of pain and unconsciousness. I awoke multiple times into a searing hell of pain from my head and side, only to feel the warm caress of my savior as she brought a cup of something sweet to my lips, sending me back to a deep sleep.

At last I awoke to a crackling fire. I lay on a tattered wool blanket under which palm fronds had been piled. It was the most comfortable bed I’ve had since I arrived on the island. The room was much like mine, although with finer craftsmanship, built into a larger cave that extended further back into the ridge. The girl was not there.

I was naked, but my wounds appeared expertly tended to as I gingerly pulled back the banana leaf bandage on my hip to reveal a well-stitched wound and a sweet-smelling poultice. My ribs ached, but none seemed to be broken, and my head was finally clear. My clothes were neatly folded, and stacked on a nearby stone. I dressed myself. My trousers were in a bad way, washed but tattered by the boar’s tusk. Even with my belt cinched tight, the right front flopped down to expose my member. I scavenged a bit of thatch from the shelter and poked a hole in the tattered fabric to tie it to my belt and preserve my modesty.

It was then that I realized that a wool blanket had no business on an isolated tropical island, and I fell to my knees to inspect it. One edge was so tattered and worn there was no stitching left, but one of the others was still whole and had a tag stitched into it. It read, H.M.S. Bellerophon. 

I am no naval historian, but I do remember tales told by the Terrier’s sailors of a schooner by that name found on the open sea eighteen years prior, empty of provisions and boats and without a soul on board. A ghost ship. They spun yarns about what could have forced a crew, the ships master and his pregnant wife to abandon a perfectly sound ship and its valuable cargo, still safe in its holds as if still bound for China.

I heard a whisper of sound and turned. There stood the girl, still naked but for her belt, lit by the fire like a golden goddess. A head shorter than my six feet, she was slim and athletic and perfect. I stood there, shirtless, trousers held on by a single twisted strand, and stared back. 

She motioned to my hip.

“Hurt?” she said.

I touched the bandage. “Much better, thank you.”

She looked at me strangely and then turned to the shelter’s entrance, bending down and exposing to me her full naked backside, round and perfect. I admit that my manhood began to stir once again. I hid it with the blanket.

The girl turned with a basket of fruits, including the novel fruit I had discovered the other day. In another basket was a lump of what looked like pork on a spit. She quickly set it over the fire, one end of the stick stuck in the sandy floor of the cave. She motioned for me to sit on the makeshift bed.

I held out the blanket and said, “The Bellerophon, your ship?”

“Ship,” she repeated, and squatted before the spit, turning it.

I spread the blanket once again atop its leafy mattress and sat, the fire between us.

“Were you shipwrecked here like me?” I said.

She turned the unfamiliar sounds over in her head.

“Mama, Papa, ship,” she said, staring back at me.

So, perhaps she is the unborn child of the Bellerophon’s master, either born aboard ship or shortly after their abandoning of it. 

“Where are they? Mama and Papa?” I asked.

“Mama, Papa…” She made a jabbing motion with her hand and pointed to my hip and then to the pork on the spit. She grew quiet and looked down.

So, they had died. The girl must have been very young when they passed given her language skills, although she had undoubtedly lost much in her years on the island. It was a miracle she had survived! 

I looked up to see her crying. I quickly rose and hugged her to my chest and let her cry. It must have been so lonely on the island all these years. At last, after a few minutes, the tears stopped. The girl looked up and pulled back and then looked at my hairy chest.

“Where?” She cupped her bounteous breasts with both hands and then reached out and lay them flat against my, I’m not ashamed to admit it, rather manly chest.

I flinched as if burnt and retreated to my blanket.

“I’m a man,” I said. At her confused expression, I motioned to her and said, “mama” and then to myself and said “papa.”

She brightened, and placed her hand on her breast, “mama”, and then swiftly stood and sat beside me, placing her hand on my chest, “papa!” The warmth that radiated from her body threatened to arouse me again, and I quickly shifted back.

“I am Dr. Phineas Bradley,” I said, holding out my hand.

She took my hand and placed it on her naked breast. I could feel her straining nipple dig into my palm”

“Dokter Finas Braley, papa.” she said.

I controlled my libido and said, “and you?” and motioned to her.

“I…mama,” she said hesitatingly.

She did not know her name. 

“I shall call you, Laodamia, daughter of Bellerophon.”

“Lod...La..Ladmia,” she struggled.

“How about I call you Lady, for short.” I smiled.

She placed her hand on my chest. “Lady, mama” she said, and smiled back.

We separated, and she returned to turning the meat. We shared a fine meal of roast pork and fruit, including that delightful pseudo-pomegranate. I tried to teach her the words for pork and fruit, and she responded to each, repeating each word two or three times. We spent the evening pointing to different things in the hut, rocks, leaves, blankets, string, shirt, trousers, etc. her soaking up every little thing and never making a mistake.

Eventually fatigue overtook me. I offered her the bed, but she insisted that I lay there, and no sooner had I closed my eyes than I was asleep.

I awoke last night with a warmth at my back. I turned my head to see Lady asleep beside me, spooning me from behind. I could feel her full breasts pushed up against my bare back. I became instantly erect, harder than I ever remembered. I could not get back to sleep again and had to slip outside and indulge in onanism to relieve my libido. I write this not to titillate, but to inform, as the sheer intensity of my coming was astounding and I must report it. I estimate that I ejaculated nearly a quarter pint of semen in multiple ejaculations last night, ejecting it off the side of the cliff with a strength that sent it flying several feet out before falling into the treetops.

I returned to the shelter and fell asleep on the sand across the embers of the fire from the girl, but I’ve awoken on the blanket. There are no drag marks in the sand, so the girl must have carried me. I cannot imagine the strength that she must possess.

Lady is nowhere to be seen. I imagine she is out gathering food, or perhaps at her...altar. I am feeling much better, myself, and look forward to my exploring the rest of the island with my new friend.


May 5, 1860 - I write this having consummated my romantic union with Lady. I fully understand how untoward this must seem. I, an educated man of thirty, her, an unworldly girl not much older than eighteen, having met only one day prior, but I could not withhold my passion for her any longer. In all truth she was more the aggressor than I!

I get ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning. Yesterday, an hour after my last entry, Lady returned from her excursion carrying more fruit, laying out for us a breakfast that included, among other things, the red fruit, and sun-dried and sea-salted pork that had been brined in the red fruit’s juices. It was all delicious, and I must admit that I nearly made myself sick gorging on it. 

Afterward, Lady took my hand and led me on an exploration of the island. I followed her, staring at the muscles of her perfect buttocks as she danced across the jungle floor, or as she scrambled over razor-sharp lava like a gecko. Every time something interesting presented itself, Lady would grab my arm and point, pressing her pliable breast hard against my side and forcing me to fight my animal spirits down.

All during our excursion, I continued to name things, talking to her non-stop, even though I was sure she could not understand, but she absorbed language like a sponge. By lunchtime she was even completing short sentences! What an amazing intellect for one so young!

We climbed the volcano, of course, and surveyed the entirety of the island. It was not large, perhaps six miles wide across the central ridge and maybe twenty long to the northern tip. About the size of London. The volcano itself was quiescent, but the crater lake at the top steamed, and there were sulfur fumaroles here and there that indicated it was not entirely dormant. 

We made our way back down the side, and I discovered a new species of monitor lizard nearly twelve feet long lounging in the sun. Lady warned me against approaching, and pulled her obsidian knife from its leather scabbard, keeping herself between me and the monster. I will attempt to draw a sketch of this intriguing animal after this entry.

In any event, we returned to her abode in time for the sunset. She reached out and held my hand, pressing her naked body up against my tattered clothes. The warmth was amazing! Then she spoke, whispering into my ear.


I felt her hand trail down my chest and then reach into the poorly-sewn gap where the boar had gored me. She grasped my penis, now fully erect, and stroked it.

I gasped.

“Feel good?” she whispered. I felt her press her body up against my side, her breasts firm against my arm. I shuddered as she rubbed her sex up against my hip, and she let out a soft groan as the rough fabric rubbed against her womanhood. It should have hurt, my wound was less than a week old, but all I felt was the warmth of her body. She gripped my member firmly and stroked it faster and faster, the motion quickly overcoming the strength of my makeshift trouser repair. The flap fell open, exposing my sex to the evening air. I looked down at her pumping hand and saw my phallus more erect and longer than it had ever been. It was like an iron bar covered in skin, eight inches long, much longer than was normal. Was it her? Was this what happens when you fall in love?

I quickly reached climax and ejaculated thick ropes of semen, more even than the previous night, much of which shot up into the air and landed on us, quite a bit pooling in her cupped hand. Lady stared, panting, at the pearly substance, and brought it to her face. It did not have the acrid odour of normal ejaculate. It was almost floral. Sweet. Lady drank it down like nectar. She looked up at me with hungry eyes and turned me to face her. She grasped my shirt and tore it asunder like it was nothing, quickly moving on to my belt and trousers. I was still fully erect and throbbing, despite my recent coming. Surrendering to passion, I hugged her close and kissed her deeply.

 I am not an inexperienced man. I know what it is to rut with a whore, a serviceable but mercenary temporary union, necessary for health but with no lasting consequence. This was something different. Not a sin, not lust, but passion. An unselfish giving of oneself, receiving the other equally unselfishly given. 

I again say this not to arouse, but to educate. Lady and I made love countless times last night, much more than should be possible. I must have ejaculated ten times. She must have reached the climax of her arousal more than thirty times. I do not yet know what could be the cause of this. I guess it could be love!

I awoke this morning naked. I doubt I’ll be wearing my rags again, not that they seem to be needed in this clement climate. My bandage fell off last night and I appear to be fully healed, another impossibility! I’ll ask Lady what was in that poultice when she returns.

I feel better than I have before in my life!

The sketch of the dragon below.


May 13, 1860 -  I apologize for my long absence. The last week has been amazing! I have made more discoveries than any naturalist in history, I’ll warrant (see the previous ten pages of sketches), and I’m certain that none has had as beautiful an assistant as I, either!

Every day we gorge on fruit and pork or fish, and every evening we celebrate our passion. Lady may be inexperienced, but she more than makes up for it by being adventurous. We’ve had each other pretty much all over the island, every break in our travels devolving into lovemaking. It’s glorious! When I return to England, she will make a fine wife!

Ah, returning to England. Yesterday we set up pyres in key points around our island - dry logs and rendered pig fat in bladders ready to be poured over them - hoping that when we spot a ship we can race to the nearest one and set it alight. It will take luck and determination, not to mention constant vigilance, but my hopes remain high.

Lady is amazing, and growing more so every day. I believe she is even more beautiful than the day I first saw her. In fact, just this morning, after another long night of lovemaking, I could have sworn she was taller, with the top of her head reaching my lower lip. Her strength is incredible also. In preparing our pyres, I watched as she snapped four inch thick bamboo from its base with a single jerk, her shoulders and arms pulsing with long sinew, a feat I could not imagine performing even should I be a circus strongman!

As strong as her muscle is, though, her mind is stronger. Our constant conversation has become less one-sided as the week has passed, and now she can actually converse about as well as a typical schoolgirl, albeit one with a strange halting accent. She seems inherently curious about everything we see. Animals, stars, trees, the volcano, the ocean, the rest of the world, London. It’s all grist for the wheels of her mind. And she never forgets. The second night of our lovemaking I recited Shelley’s “Love’s Philosophy” to her before we both fell asleep in each other’s arms. Yesterday, she recited it to me verbatim as she danced around the fire and then straddled me and impaled herself on my ever-ready member. She truly is a wonder.


May 25, 1860 - Something is definitely happening with Lady. Over the last week or so she has continued to develop, far more so than is possible. She has grown in every way. She now nearly matches my six-foot height. Her muscles bulge now even when not in use, and when she exerts herself they grow to proportions to rival that of a strongman. But she is much stronger than any circus strongman of which I’ve ever heard. Yesterday she decided to build a Holiday Cottage at the north end of the island. I watched as she levered entire trees with trunks a foot thick from the ground and then as she snapped off their branches like twigs. She notched them with her bare hands and fitted them together in the style of a log cabin with such precision that even without caulk nary a breeze disturbed us when we made love inside. It was as nothing to her to complete a day’s work for a team of ten men in a matter of hours!

She laughed as she knocked it down afterwards, vowing to construct something even more grand the next day! 

Her beauty has increased as well, despite her muscles. Her hair has grown inches longer than I remember in just a month, cascading now to her perfect buttocks in flowing golden waves, and her girlish figure has ripened into womanly curves with uncommon speed. Her breasts are now larger than the coconuts that she tears open with her bare-hands! Her already fine features and smooth skin have taken on an unworldly symmetry, and when she smiles I become consumed by desire.

Her mind has continued to develop also. She now speaks with a vocabulary and erudition that rivals my own. Of late she has been asking me all I know about the science of alchemy. I told her that there was some truth in the science, but that most of it was useless falderal, but she persisted, and I informed her that all my scientific volumes had been lost with my ship. She has decided that tomorrow, instead of rebuilding the cabin, she would like to save my books. I admit, the possibility is enticing, but we do not even know where the Terrier lies! But she waved her hand and suggested that it was most likely in the lagoon. We shall see what tomorrow brings.

I have not remained unchanged either. I am definitely healthier than when I landed, both more well-fed but also stronger, with greater stamina - stamina I need for our marathon lovemaking; she has become quite demanding in that regard, but I am somehow always able to rise to the challenge. And rise I do! My member is fully a foot long when inflamed, and able to eject seemingly unending amounts of ejaculate. It’s a wonder my Lady is not pregnant!

I continue my explorations,of course, but much time is taken servicing my Lady, so I have only three new species to present on the following pages.


May 28, 1860 - By God she’s found it!

Three days ago, Lady lashed together a large raft of bamboo and floated it out into the lagoon. She sat out there all during the daylight hours peering through a short segment of the largest diameter bamboo she could find, to calm the waters and aid her in her search. Back and forth she paddled in a methodical search for the Terrier.

I waited on the beach, at first, pining for my love, but as she moved further from shore I found it necessary to retreat to our home for a better view. I busied myself with domestic tasks, collecting water from the stream or fruit from the jungle, always wary of the giant boars that stalked the woods, as there would be no Lady to save me this time. Much of my time though was spent sitting and staring at my girl, patiently waiting as she satisfied her curiosity. I consumed many of the red fruits as I waited, resisting the urge to relieve my urges as the ensuing erections throbbed forth.

Ah, I have forgotten to record this: I believe the red fruits have something to do with our developments. It is the only truly novel foodstuff we’ve been consuming during my stay on the island, all the other fruits and animals we’ve eaten differing from their domestic counterparts in size only. The growth of my organ began only after I started to eat the delectable pomegranate analog, and my erections seem more intense and lovemaking more passionate after gorging on the things. I would refrain from consuming them now, without Lady here to relieve me, but they are far and away the most delicious thing I’ve found on the island, and I daresay quite addicting.

It is harder to understand Lady’s recent growth, however. She’s been eating the fruit since she was a girl, and while an extremely healthy and strong woman when I found her, her former stature and strength pale in comparison to what she has become. What could be causing this if not the fruit?

In any event, today she found my ship! I watched as she stood on her raft and waved and shouted frantically at me before diving into the placid waters. I feared for her safety, for she was submerged for upward of ten minutes, but eventually she reemerged and pulled out a brass bell. How she swam with that twenty-pound weight I’ll never know, but I’ve learned that normal limits no longer apply to my Lady. This was followed by more goods from the ship - blankets, china, chains, ropes, weapons, and most importantly, my chest of books! By evening the raft was in danger of capsizing from all the goods piled upon it, and I raced to shore as she paddled back in.

“I’ve found it!” she smiled as she embraced me heartily, the air driven from my lungs.

“Look, Phineas! Treasure! The Terrier was broken and the goods strewn all about the reef. The stern of the ship was still nearly whole, while the bow was not to be seen, but your cabin was in the stern, was it not? Look at the trunk! It has your name on it!”

I had been teaching her writing by tracing letters in the sand in the pauses between our lovemaking, and one of the first things I taught her was how to write our names. Not yet fully literate, she could at least read that!

It was, indeed, my trunk. My library. My treasure. I scurried to open it, having only been submerged for a month or so. The books were all there! Wet, but in good shape considering they’d been in a shipwreck!

We left most of the haul on the beach, but Lady put the trunk on her back and climbed nimbly to our shelter. We’ve spent the evening sorting and drying the books carefully by the fire. As I write, Lady is pouring over my one volume of alchemical knowledge, asking for the definition of any word she does not know, although this becomes less common with every passing moment. She is so incredibly beautiful lit by the fire as she is. Her hair gleams like molten gold as she lifts her arm to tuck it behind one ear. Her breast bulges enticingly as her bicep pushes it up, her nipple begging for my lips.

Excuse me, but I must tend to my Lady.


May 31, 1860 - Lady continues to grow and improve, now surpassing my height by an inch. Her musculature is now that of an Olympian goddess. Her mind must now rival Newton’s as well.

Since finding and drying my library, Lady has spent every spare moment consuming my volumes, poring over the pages and reading with an uncommon speed. As she once soaked up knowledge from our conversation, she now devours it from the learned men of science through their collected works.

I’ve been left to my own devices once again to find occupation. I have found it in sorting and moving the collected treasure from the wreck. Lady has made two more trips to the debris field, and collected various bits and pieces of useful paraphernalia, including a small swivel gun that had been mounted on the quarterdeck of the Terrier. Such a wealth of metal, but I fear I do not know to what use we might put it given our lack of forge. In any event, the sorting continues apace. The ropes are stretched between palms and drying in the breeze, definitely useful, and the wool blankets will come in handy should a storm arrive.

I will endeavour to return to my study of the native fauna soon.


June 3, 1860 - Lady has grown quiet. Having finally consumed all the volumes of natural history, alchemy, physics and mathematics in my library, she has lost herself in contemplation.

Her developments have continued. I now estimate her height at six foot three. Her body is a wonder land of feminine flesh and delightful muscle, with breasts that now exceed anything I’ve seen on even the most portly matron, miraculously remaining as firm as would be appropriate for any girl her age.

Lady’s appetite for intercourse and her stamina now eclipse my own in all ways. I have twice now fallen asleep after long sessions with her to the moans of her manual autostimulation.

I worry about her recent quietude. I fear I have become boring to her in some way.

Below I’ve recorded two new species of giant gecko that I have discovered in my wanderings.


June 5, 1860 - I followed Lady today into the jungle and up to the waterfall.She took one of the ship blankets with her, which piqued my curiosity. What use had she for a blanket? I attempted to maintain hidden as I followed along the trail. Camping out at my teak tree once again, I watched as she inspected the altar, now bare of foodstuffs as she has not visited it for most of a month since her changes began. 

She stood and stared up at the naked idol which glared commandingly out at the clearing. Then, she looked up to where the waterfall emerged from the cliff face, and deciding upon something, tied the blanket around her waist and jumped five feet up to a small ledge. Reaching up, Lady found a handhold that was invisible to me and pulled herself up another five feet with her fingertips. Quickly, she scaled the sheer cliff, gaining confidence as she went. The fifty feet of cliff was climbed in less than three minutes, and Lady entered the waterfall’s cave.

I waited for half an hour for my love to emerge once again, and was on the verge of scaling the cliff myself to find her when she reappeared at the cave mouth blanket full of something, and climbed back down.

When she opened the blanket, I gasped. Inside were bones.

“You need not try to hide from me Phineas,” she said. “I can hear you.”

I jumped, and then emerged from my perch, approaching my love as she studied the bones.

“What do you make of this?” she motioned to her cache.

Inside the blanket, now spread out on the forest floor, was a skeleton of a human being, but no normal human being. I picked up what had to be a human femur, but this one was nearly three feet long. I gasped when I saw the skull. It was enormous! Far larger than any human or ape I’d ever encountered. I rummaged around until I found a pelvic bone.

“Definitely a human female,” I said. “But this cannot be! At these proportions she must have been at least twelve feet tall!”

“Eleven foot ten, I should think,” she said. “Based upon the proportions of our goddess over there.” She motioned to the carven idol in its niche.

She sat on the ground and motioned to me to sit beside her, and she arranged the bones to approximate the former woman. “Yes. I would estimate she died of extreme old age. See the calcification of the joints here, and here? See her teeth?” 

She stopped to consider and then reached around my shoulder and pulled me closer until my head rested on her soft titanic mammary. 

“Let me tell you what I found in there, Phineas. Inside that cave were countless skeletons of young men, no more than twenty five based on their bones, each with a pulverized pelvis. Alone, on a stone throne, sat the bones of this gigantic woman.”

She stroked my hair, and I became aroused in spite of myself.

“Here is my theory. You’ve noted how I’ve grown in the last month? This started only after we began to copulate. Your organ has grown as well, and your general health and musculature, but not to the extent of my own growth. I believe that the source of this growth is the red fruit we both find so delicious. You’ve indicated, and your books verify, that this fruit is unknown to the rest of the world. I believe that a substance in the fruit, mediated by your metabolism and emitted in you ejaculate is the medium for my advancement.”

Lady motioned to the giantess.

“I believe that this native woman was likewise transformed, and worshipped as a goddess. The men up there were offerings to her. She fed them the fruit and copulated until they were destroyed and grew to the stature we see here.”

I looked up at her perfect face.

“I found the remains of their catamarans, countless of them, destroyed and littering the lagoon while I searched for the Terrier. They worshiped her as a goddess.”

“W-will that happen to me as well?” I asked.

“If we continue as we have been, I believe it will. Even now it takes a significant amount of willpower to keep from rutting with you endlessly, especially when you are engorged as you are now. I believe I will ultimately become a giantess such as this one and destroy you in my passion.”

I must admit that as she spoke it, and as I imagined her as a twelve-foot goddess, I was suddenly overcome, and ejaculated multiple times, groaning, painting the undersides of her breasts with my seed. She sighed and pulled me close, and then released me to dive into the lake and wash. I joined her, briefly, but she soon sent me away so she could think further on the matter.


June 10, 1860 - The last week has been incredibly frustrating. Lady is keeping her distance from me in my old abode in an attempt to prevent the changes that would ultimately lead to my destruction, while my libido has driven me to near priapism. I have been forced to service myself for the last five days, spending a considerable proportion of my time ejaculating from my perch on the ridge. My production is enormous. I estimate that each climax produces a half pint of semen now, and my Johnson is over a foot long and nearly as thick as my forearm. It is nearly always erect, except for the blissful half hour or so after an ejaculation.

Lady is working on something. Her side of the bay is full of frantic activity. I’ve seen her stacking rocks into a beehive oven of some sort - her bulging physique and display of power sending me into another round of self-abuse - and for the last two days it’s been roaring with flame. 

We shall see what she is up to shortly, I am sure. For me, I fear it is another fitful night with little sleep.


June 20, 1860 - Today a surprise! When I awoke last morning on my pallet, the first thing I gazed upon was Lady’s magnificence. Despite our seperation, my emissions must have carried over somewhat in her metabolism. At six foot ten, my golden goddess is a commanding presence - regal, powerful, lust inducing. My sex became firm at the sight of her beauty, her proportionally slim but muscular form, her immense mammaries bulging a foot from her proud chest muscles, nipples ripe and prominent.

“Phineas, come. I require your assistance.”

She strode out of the hut and jumped the thirty feet down to the jungle floor as casually as if stepping onto high street. I scrambled along the ledge to reach the normal route down and chased her like a puppy, my erection bobbing at the sight of her perfect derriere. Finally we reached my old hut, now greatly expanded. 

Off to one side were two furnaces of stone, each blazing hot, red sparks jumping from the chimneys with a large supply of charcoal and what appeared to be glass blowing equipment arranged neatly on a rack. In the middle sat a high table, four feet high, constructed of bamboo and wooden planks. On this table were arrayed a wide variety of glass tubes and pipes, each leading to another, heating and mixing substances of all colors. On another table sat several cages woven from bark and sea grass, each with a small red shrew-like animal - about the span of my hand in size, all dead at the bottom of their cages.

“What is this, Lady?” I asked with a shivering voice.

“I have been experimenting with the red fruit. I’ve used the limited knowledge of your alchemical texts to guide me in trying to produce a substance that would continue to enhance my mind, but leave my stature constant so that we might continue our lovemaking without fear of your death.”

She looked at me hungrily. “I’ve missed you Phineas. The last weeks have been the hardest since I met you. I long for you so much!” 

She almost seemed on the verge of crying. She waved to the cages of dead mammals.

“All my attempts so far have been failures. I feel the answer is just beyond my grasp. That is why I’ve asked you here.”

“Why, my love?” 

She strode over to a sandy alcove. The entire interior was now cushioned with furs and pillows, and all manner of luxuries - or such luxuries as could be manufactured on a small island. On a pewter platter from the Terrier, in a huge stein, sat a serving of blood-red juice. I could tell from the odor that it was from my favorite fruit. Beside it stood a keg of at least ten gallons, which I could only imagine contained more of the nectar.

“I need you. I need you to drink this, all of it, and make love to me as many times as you can tonight. I need you like a fire needs fuel. To burn my brightest, to finally overcome our last obstacle, I need you to enhance my mind far beyond my current abilities. I’m certain that the boost it will give to my intellect will be sufficient to overcome all, but if it does not, I’m afraid that after this I dare not see you again, for to do so would undoubtedly mean your death from coital bliss. Please Phineas, drink deeply and mount me.”

I must say, I didn’t need too much encouragement. I stumbled quickly to the platter and downed the stein as quickly as possible, red juice spilling down my cheeks. Then I refilled it from the keg and drank deeply, and then again. My penis rose to its towering fourteen-inch length, throbbing and begging to penetrate. My Lady licked her lips hungrily, and pulled me to her, still standing, burying my head between her breasts. My member brushed the entrance to her sex, and Lady gripped my buttocks and pulled me into her.

I came and came, and drank more nectar, and came, pumping into her like a metronome, enjoying her screams of passion through that long day and night. 

I write this now back at our old shared cave. I am apparently once again confined to quarantine. I wonder if my night of bliss was sufficient to accomplish her objectives.

I sincerely hope so.


June 25, 1860 - I am shaken. This morning, while attending to my now-sixteen inch member, I spied a white sail on the horizon! Immediately, I cupped my hands and called “Sail HO!” to Lady, and then scampered down to the beach and the nearest signal pyre, a torch from our hut’s fire held above me. I set the torch on the dry tinder of the pyre and reached for the leather bucket of lard nearby, tossing scoops onto the larger logs above the tinder to encourage a conflagration. 

It caught, and was soon a roaring fire! I danced about, sure I was to be finally rescued from imprisonment, when out of the forest bound Lady.

“No!” she bellowed. “Not now, when I am so close!”

Now nearly eight feet tall, the giantess began to tear and kick the flaming pyre apart, her hair a tornado of golden silk, her huge breasts swinging pendulously.

“Stop! Lady, there is a ship out there! Our salvation is at hand!” I called, but my protestations fell upon deaf ears as she continued to rip apart the bonfire and toss sand onto the pieces still flaming.

The fire extinguished, she stood panting, her exquisite beauty unmarred by the burning logs.

She turned to me and said, “Phineas, I want to make this clear. Under no circumstances are you to signal any passersby. Do you understand?”

The iron in her voice made it clear that there could be no dissent. I nodded, my titanic member erect despite the threat. She was so beautiful! So beautiful mere words could not possibly do her justice. I fell to my knees and began to ejaculate uncontrollably, my jism sizzling on the coals of the dying signal fire.

She stared at me, panting with lust, fighting a titanic mental battle with her raging libido, but somehow prevailed against it. She then shook her head violently and sprinted back to her laboratory, each stride spanning twenty feet, her bosoms clearly visible outside the core of her body, swinging back and forth. Her firm backside pulsed with power with every step.

I struggled to stand, but immediately collapsed into the sand as my monstrous sex pulsed forth with abandon. After an hour I was finally able to recover my senses enough to crawl back to my hovel.

What a miserable beast I am. Lady has cost me my only chance to go home, and all I can do is lust for her, willing to sacrifice everything for even a moment of her presence. Fear for my soul.


July 8, 1860 - It has been two weeks since I last saw Lady. Every day I awaken to a full basket of food and a pendulous erection. My penis is fully eighteen inches long now, and never less than half erect. I spend most of my day imagining her return and remembering our nights together while I stroke myself to endless emissions. It is actually becoming quite difficult to move about due to the sheer size and mass of my sexual equipment. It is good that one morning I awoke to find a bamboo pipeline that brings fresh water from our stream to my door or I would surely have died of dehydration by now.

I fear what she may have become. I imagine that upon sight of her now I might die, such would be the explosiveness of my passion. 

I’m afraid I must end this entry here. I hear a sound approach and will revisit this log later.


July 20, 1860 - I write this now aboard a ship bound for London. I find it difficult to reconstruct recent events since my last entry, but will endeavour to do so in a coherent fashion.

Interrupting my last entry, Lady arrived at our home, eight and a half feet tall and entirely covered with sewn-together blankets. She motioned for me to follow, not daring to talk lest her voice render me senseless, I gather. Even with her precautions, my seed dripped copiously from my member, leaving a trail behind me as I walked.

I found her laboratory much expanded, with stills and columns of glass and multiple tables of tubes and beakers, but this is not the most extraordinary thing about it, no. Crawling through the glass and manipulating the beakers and burners and stills with expert skill and nimble fingers were more of those shrew-like creatures that I spied dead those weeks ago. A light of intelligence lit their eyes, as if they knew what they were doing. As if, perhaps, they were following the bidding of their goddess. The ones dancing about the glass all seemed to be female, I saw, and now a full eight inches long - much bigger than I remembered. I looked to the side and saw a cage of males, still small, but staring out at the females with enormous penises nearly as long as they were tall, rubbing against the bars of their cages and coming over and over. I heard a twitter from a nearby female who raised her arse toward one of the males, and many of the other females squealed at her comical action. The male fell unconscious with convulsions.

What was I seeing here?

<Yes. My little helpers are much improved.> Her words sprung fully formed within my head, but not with the commanding voice that she had used the last time I saw her, but in the voice of the girl I fell in love with.

<Yes. I am communicating with you with my mind, dear Phineas, much as I am communicating with my little servants here.>

“W-what are they doing?” I stammered.

<They are distilling the final formulation of my ascension.>

“Your ascension?” I whispered.

<Yes. That is why I copulated with you two weeks ago, to boost my intelligence so that I might complete what the native giantess was unable to achieve.>

“And that is?”

<Poor Phineas. So slow. I will become a goddess among humankind. I will be worshipped by all. I will take my rightful place at the helm of this cruel world and guide it to a new golden age.>

This was blasphemy and insanity wrapped up together! The fruit must have driven her insane to think that such a thing was achievable.

“I AM NOT INSANE!” she hissed from beneath her cover. Despite the intensity and aweful power of her statement, it nevertheless sounded as if sung by a choir of angels. I collapsed to the ground, tumescent member fountaning ejactulate seemingly endlessly.

My Lady finally took pity on me. With a wave of her hand the compulsion to come ended and I felt my cock finally relax for the first time in days. Panting, I rose from the ground and watched as a giant shrewess approached Lady and handed her a beaker of a liquid so clear and colorless, the hand-blown glass almost looked empty.

For all her perfection, her hand shook as she stepped toward me.

<Drink, my love.>


<It is not as if you have a choice, Phineas.>

She shifted the blankets that covered her and I gazed upon perfection. It felt like I was staring at the sun, like her beauty alone would burn and consume me. Of course my erection sprung once again to attention and spurted like a hose. She smiled and stepped close and I begged for the elixir. I wanted to please this goddess like nothing else in the world mattered. All rational thought quickly broke down as I drank it all down, and then she mounted me and all went white.

I have no recollection of what happened next, all I can remember is a feeling of joy, euphoria, happiness, and sexual satisfaction.

I awoke from my slumber standing at the railing of this ship - the Morpheus - staring out to sea, and wearing clothes befitting a gentleman. Lady stood at my side in a pink dress resplendent with frills and petticoats, as beautiful as the day I met her, but no more than that. Fit and slim and beautiful, with a ready smile, she took my arm and leaned her head upon my shoulder sighing, as if it had all been a dream.

The rest of the evening was...strange. I met with the master of the ship, Captain Finnigan, but it was obvious we had met before and all aspects of our past conversations sprung to my mind as we talked. I daresay, my memory tells me that I was somewhat better spoken in our previous talks than is normal for me. I can walk the length of the ship, navigating it easily as if it’s been my home for a week, which it apparently has been. I know the name of every soul on the ship, even the cat (Mr. Chippy), even though I have no conscious recollection of meeting them.

Finally in our small cabin, Lady and I were alone enough for us to talk.

“Lady, my love, what...happened?”

She smiled at me and caressed my cheek. “Oh Phineas, it’s glorious! When we made love the other week it’s like the universe shook with our passion. I do not exaggerate. That night the world was unmade and reconstructed countless times, for an eternity in which time has no meaning.”

She must have read the confusion on my face, for she laughed.

“Oh Phineas! Fear not, everything’s back in its proper place now!”

I stammered, “But Lady, when last I saw you, you were titanic and beautiful beyond description.”

She pouted. “Am I no longer beautiful to you?”

I held out both hands in supplication. “Oh of course! You’re the most beautiful girl in the world! The light of my existence! The goddess to which I worship!”

She broke down giggling. “Oh Phineas, you tease! Of course I’m no longer an eight and a half foot tall giantess, all bulging muscle and delectable tits. What? Do you want me to drive these sailors insane?”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

She took pity on me. “Phineas, that night I became a goddess. Not just a goddess, actually, the Goddess. All powerful. All knowing. All...everything. I became more than you can imagine, actually, more than I can imagine myself, in my current state. After that eternity of love making that made me what I became, I realized how very boring it would all be. I knew that if I stayed that way for more than even a moment longer, your problems, those of all humanity, would become like the problems of gnats. Irrelevant. And, Phineas, I don’t want you to be irrelevant. I love you. I want to be with you forever, and to do that, for it to make any sense, I had to divest myself of much of my power, my knowledge, my all-knowing intellect.”

“You gave that all up...for me?” My heart broke at her sacrifice. 

“Well...not everything.” She waved her hand, and it was as if a thousand candles had been lit behind her. I gazed in wonderment as a room a hundred feet on a side appeared just past the far wall of our tiny cabin, a room that could have easily held the entirety of the ship itself. Every wall was gilded and decorated as if it belonged in Versaille. In the middle of the room stood a vast bed, the epitome of feather-filled luxury.

When I turned back to Lady, she was naked and tanned and just as I remembered her when I first saw her at the altar. I felt myself becoming turgid and looked down to find myself nude as well, my member standing at attention, a foot long. She smiled her perfect smile and took my hand and lead me to the bed.

I do not know what adventures await us, but rest assured, they will be glorious. Just like my Lady.



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