This story is dedicated to Roryboy

 

 

  Corporal Samuel MacDonald of His Britannic Majesty’s Royal Marines strode about the cage in which he was imprisoned. It was tightly woven with razor edges that made escape impossible. There were about fifty square meters of room within by his estimate. He shared them with only one man named Pierre St. Croix of the French Navy. Between MacDonald’s French and St. Croix’s English, they could communicate well enough.  

Pierre had been there longer than Sam. He was more used to the situation they lived in and knew it was only a matter of time now. Sam, of course, had seen his share of action and he was as hard as any other Royal Marine. Their mutual but independently strong force of will had kept them from cracking under the insane circumstances in which they now found themselves. Indeed, others had simply gone mad around them while they maintained serenity. For a time, Sam had hoped for escape. Those thoughts were dashed with several other Royal Marines, a few U.S. Navy sailors and an assortment of other conspirators from an assortment of other nationalities had been killed. Sam and Pierre had been forced to watch.

 

Now, with everyone else gone, escape was impossible. Perhaps it always had been. Both men knew it but both men had not gone insane with the impending doom closing around them.

 

  It had been Pierre who had found the diary, wedged under a support of the wooden cage they occupied, half buried but still legible. Pierre had not been able to read much of the diary as his knowledge of English was founded on discussions between other sailors in seaports and moldy holds below decks of ships with anyone who spoke a bit of the English tongue. His education in the written hand of his own language was rudimentary at best, and nonexistent in English. With Sam here however, the diary was accessible.

 

The two men had already swapped old sailing stories, told each other of their loved ones and generally gotten to know each other pretty well. Their conversations had kept both men sane. The strain would have been too much for any man to bare alone, Sam had thought. This was despite the fact that he possessed in his blood the extraordinary courage of the Scots, not to mention the supreme disciplined toughness of the British Marines drilled into him.

 

With a deep breath, Sam gazed down at the weathered book in his hands. It had a dark blue cover, stained with dirt. The pages were uneven from water and the spine was somewhat weak. Despite the fragile condition of the manuscript, Sam began to read aloud to his friend:

 

I write this in the hope it may prove useful to someone someday. If it is indeed read by human eyes I beg to Heaven that the reader does not find himself in the same position I am in as I scroll these words on the old notebook. I am sitting in a box meant to contain a large quantity of men. There are a fair amount of people left here from a slew of nations. I set down these words as quickly as I can for none of us knows how long he has.

 

Of course, no one ever really knows how long one has does one? But here in this box, the understanding that Death waits for us all, with his bloody sickle, is reaffirmed daily.

 

Let me start at the beginning. My Name is Edward Sharpp. I signed aboard a whaling vessel in New Bedford called the Destiny. It is impossible for me to stay ashore as there is as much salt water in my veins as there is blood. A sailor cannot bear to be parted from his true love, the sea, for any long stretch of time. I had been born in a fishing town and had served my country, The United States, with distinction in our second war with Great Brittan. This was an odd thing as I had sailed before the mast with the British some time before the war. Now, afraid I was beginning to loose the exuberance of youth, I returned to that fair and effervescent maiden, the open ocean, for excitement. Had I known what was to befall the men of the Destiny, I would never have set foot on that ship.

 

She was a standard whaling ship, as they go. The captain was rumored to be well seasoned and the crew able bodied. Many of them were Portuguese men who spoke little English but there was seamanship present, which all true men of the sea can recognize in each other quickly enough.

 

The captain had heard of good whaling in Pacific waters so rather than sail to the icy North Atlantic we too a different coarse.

 

I will spare you the particulars of our journey, sufficed to say that we traveled down the American coasts and around Cape Horn. After this baptism into sea life for inexperienced hands, we sailed into the blue waters of the Pacific. We had made progress on a northwesterly course for some time when the whether changed so suddenly, as it is prone to do in this part of the world, and we found ourselves battered by the fiercest gales that I or any other aboard could recollect. It was even fiercer than those of Cape Horn if you believe me. Still we might have prevailed against the tempest. We were running with the waves when the seas picked up even more might than they initially possessed. We rode atop the giant swells with our stern and bow out of water when a wave was amidships. It was no longer advisable to run with the waves as we were loosing helm control and we would have been far better off to point our bow towards them, but our skipper (correctly in my mind) judged that we should not come about and drive into the sea as such a course change may capsize our vessel before we had opportunity to complete the maneuver.

 

Imagine our consternation when all hands on duty saw giant waves break before us upon some vast reef. The helmsman was ordered to bring her about but it was too late. We were propelled onto the rocks with such force as to stove in much of the bow of our poor ship. It was havoc and destruction as I have never seen it before, not even in combat against the mighty Royal Navy. We struggled to launch the boats and gather our comrades for a frantic attempt at escaping the Destiny, which was stuck aboard the rocks and being broken up by the booming waves thundering about us.   

 

We saved as many able men as we could and rescued many more who were injured. It was by the work of Providence and stout seamanship that our tiny boats were not dashed against the rocks themselves. We lashed ourselves together and deployed sea anchors to try to stabilize ourselves.

 

The next day the whether had broken and we saw not several miles away, what appeared to be an island.  We made haste towards it, arriving not much before midday. As soon as we were within close proximity to the island, we spied a sandy beach which afforded us an ideal place to land.

 

Once there we took stock. There were sixteen men who had survived the storm. The master was gone but the first mate remained as did the boatswain. We had a barrel of fresh water only, no food and one musket with a few rounds. It was there at that beach that we set up camp and set to the task of searching out food and fresh water.

 

As I strolled along the beach, contemplating my narrow escape from Davy Jones and not I confess laying an eye to my course, I rounded a bend and overheard the noise that I assumed could only have been caused by an enormous set of bellows. I looked up startled and gazed in complete shock at what my eye told me.

 

Before me was a sharp rock cliff. Lying with one leg above it and the rest of her on the ground below, was a giant woman. Had she been standing, she would have dwarfed the masts of the tallest warship I had ever come across. I heard her take in great breaths of air.

 

I gawked at her. She was a slender woman (in proportion to her size of course) with strong, well defined muscles throughout her body. She had a beautiful face and long dark hair. I recall thinking that she was the most fetching lass I had clapped an eye to, and you’ve hear the truth of it when I tell you that I’ve seen many a girl in the past.

 

 It was not long before my shipmates joined me in beholding this wonder and called for their companions to come see. Men stood transfixed at her beauty. Slowly, the giant head turned our direction and the lady spied us. None of us knew quite what to do at that moment. She smiled the most beautiful smile at us and stretched her arms as one does when waking from pleasant dreams. We all watched her scantly clad chest move beneath her covering at this action. The sight was indeed Heavenly.

 

This seemed too much for the female-deprived Portuguese sailor to my left. With a cry he ran towards her. His action seemed to galvanize the crew into movement for we were close on his heels. The woman for her part, seemed to welcome the company with gesture and expression.

 

What we planned to accomplish I know not but I remember reaching the woman as men climbed up her hair and the slight fabric she wore. Soon much of the crew was astride her. Suddenly there was a cry. She had grabbed up a young sailor who was being held between her pointer finger and thumb. There while we all watched, she scrutinized him for a brief spell and then opened her mouth wide and dropped him in. To swallow the lad was for her the work of a moment. There were shouts and suddenly a mass migration off the woman took place, even faster than our dash onto her. I myself ran for her feet which as I have said were placed on a cliff. Most of the crew was running the other way but I took the road less traveled.  Upon reaching the bottom of the cliff I began my assent. The rocks were slippery but to tolerably skilled semen such as myself I made good progress up the cliff face.  I chanced a look behind me and saw to my dismay that the giantess had gotten to her feet and started after my comrades who she caught with ease and swallowed with great enthusiasm. I turned from the despicable acts and concentrated on scaling the rocks. It was about ten minuets later when I reached the top, tired but relishing the feeling of life and the smell of the sea breeze that blew over me. There was no sign of the giant woman except for her huge tracks in the sand. I hope you understand the size of the woman when I say that I could have comfortably laid down in the print of the woman’s little toe.

 

I made my way into the jungle, hoping to come across any of my fellows who may have made good their escape. Unfortunately after the day of ceaseless wanderings I came across no human life, giant or otherwise.

 

It was with much emotion that I ended the day, thanking God for my deliverance but praying for guidance and safety in this new land in which I found myself. What unseen dangers awaited me? What if I happened across the giantess again?

 

I spent a wet sleepless night in the jungle, starting at every noise. Finally the “rosy fingers of dawn” began to creep across the sky. I was hungry, wet, and tired (though I entertained no hope of falling asleep today anymore than I did last night.) My spirits had sunk to the lowest possible depths of despair that it is possible for a human to experience. With just one other person with me and I could have stood my situation. With a comrade, one could at least don the façade of bravery.  There was, of course, no one but the surrounding noises of the jungle about me and I confess to sitting down and crying like a child. Finally, in the attempt to pull myself together I resolved to find any comrades of mine that may have escaped the giant woman of yesterday. With a goal in mind, I set off in somewhat improved spirits.

 

It was two days later, with no sign of friend or enemy but my constant companion; Despair. All of a sudden, I came across what appeared to be a campsite. The fire pit was lined with fresh coals and I found human tracks leading away from the camp. I followed these tracks as quickly as possible, without loosing the trail, and eventually came to three men.

 

I was overjoyed and had to suppress the emotion welling up within me. I swiftly introduced myself to the three men. They for their part, were quite pleased if not a bit surprised to see me. I politely introduced that I was a whaler from New Bedford and my entire crew had been lost in the duel traditions of a storm and a giantess.

 

‘My dear man, my name is Professor Carter from the University of Oxford. My esteemed associate is Professor Blake from your countries Harvard University. This gentlemen to the right of us is Major John Weatherford, retired but explorer of New South Wales (Australia). We are on an expedition of Science to study the great giantesses of this as of yet unexplored island of which I have reason to believe acutally exist! This news of yours is quite distressing. If such is the case we must make haste to the campsite of the giantess. We know where she resides and were in truth making our way there at this very moment! Let us hurry before it is too late!”

Professor Blake scoffed loudly.

 

We had made our way through the underbrush and just reached a peak of a large hill which we had been scaling for the better part of an hour. Being the only sailor present, I was chosen to shimmy up a tree to see if I could spy traces of the woman anywhere. 

Upon breaking through the canopy I was afforded a view of the surrounding area. We seemed to be on the transition zone of two distinctly different sections of the island. At a distance that I made to be about two miles, I could observe a forest trees that surely must have reached Heaven itself. They made the one on which I was so precariously swaying look like a blade of grass. This humungous spectacle rose from the normal sized forest in which I and my companions were now in. I had to steady myself before I could face the climb back down and tell my new friends of the news.

 

“-completely incorrect in thinking that I might believe tomfoolery! It is not within the spectrum of scientific minds to simply accept a statement without physical evidence to support such declarations!” Professor Blake’s voice reached me as I was nearing the end of my decent of the tree.

 

“Is that so sir?” came the voice of Professor Carter. “We have heard a first hand account of a young gentlemen of whom none of us have prier acquaintance! He attributes his misfortune at being lost in the jungle to the barbarous acts of a crazed female human chose to consume his shipmates alive! His very presence in this jungle is physical proof of the woman’s existence.”

 

“Fiddlesticks! He is a sailor! If we are to believe sailors then the ocean is full of giant snakes with wings and woman with the tails of fish! He is unknown to the three of us, this I grant you Professor Carter, but that does not mean he or his story is trustworthy.”

    

I landed next to the three men a moment later.

 

“My dear boy,” said Professor Blake turning to me with the air of an educator rounding upon a particularly disruptive pupil. “I do not believe your story of Giantesses any more than I do Professor Carter’s. I hope you can understand that my doubts stem from a carefully trained scientific suspicion which has nothing to do with my underscoring feeling towards you as a person. No doubt you could have believed that you saw a giant woman when what actually occurred was an uncommon although highly explainable circumstance. It is towards Professor Carter’s unyielding display of unprofessional behavior that my antipathy is directed.”

 

Right then the ground began to rumble and not five seconds later, a giantess, different to the one I had encountered before, walked by us. In the way of garments, she was wearing as little as the first giantess I had seen, and her body moved with a beautiful rhythm that is either not present or not visible in the heavily clothed woman of New Bedford. In her hands was a wicker box which looked full of sailors. She did not look down or indicate her awareness of us but maintained her present course and soon the impact of her footprints melted into the distance.

 

Everyone was silent for a moment. Finally Professor Blake spoke.

“Professor Blake, I owe you an apology sir. I have acted and spoken as an amateur and without the proper open mind that is the mark of a true scientist. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me.”

 

The two men shook hands and began discussing feelings of mutual respect and understanding of each others positions up to this moment.

 

“Yes, yes. This is all very well and good gentlemen but did you not see that basket she had with her?” Interjected Weatherford, breaking the spell of congeniality that had entered into the atmosphere. “She’s captured people and if she is like the one that our friend Mr. Sharpp here saw she is fixing them for her evening meal as we speak!”

 

“Our friend Major Weatherford is correct!” stated Professor Carter. “While Professor Blake and I were busy dribbling about our reputations we had wrongly lost sight of the more important task at hand. This being the rescue of those poor men. We shall make haste at once!”

 

We reached the site of the giantess at twilight. It seemed much darker as the giant trees above us blocked out so much light. We were now amid the huge flora that made even flowers loom over us.

 

We hid behind gargantuan blades of grass as we looked out onto the campsite.  The basket of men was beside her. We watched as she brought a man forth from it and spoke to him quietly before devouring him. There was a stunned silence between the four of us.

 

“Gentlemen we must make a resume of our resources,” Said Professor Carter purposefully.

“We have a sense of purpose; to help our fellow man. We have two renowned minds from the most prestigious Universities on either side of the Atlantic. We have the unshakable courage of the United States Navy and the bravery of the Australian Outback. We are also, of yet, undetected by our foe. Now gentlemen, our objective is to release those captives as stealthily as possible. Here is my scheme.  

                            

 He outlined a plan to which Major Weatherford and I made several adjustments but otherwise it was short and simple.

“Look Professor Carter,” interrupted Professor Blake. “She is indeed consuming the unfortunate souls she possesses in captivity.

 

We looked. She was raising them to her gigantic mouth and purring to them, saying words that we could not overhear before dropping them down her gullet and swallowing. All of us were engrossed at the sight.

“Observe, Professor Carter, how she swallows her victims live. Her origins are deeply embedded in a violent culture no doubt. Perhaps also she possesses in her mind the reverse situation of a vorephillia,” said Professor Blake as if they were in a laboratory looking at a particularly interesting specimen.

“A violent culture certainly!” whispered Professor Carter. “The vorephillia theory I regard with deep suspicion.” (He almost chuckled here.) “She is more likely utilizing a food source that would be unavailable to most creatures. Thus, this is her niche in this environment.”

The two of them argued a few moments more before Major Weatherford insisted that they remain silent out of respect for her victims, to which the learned men begrudgingly agreed.

  

 Finally she stopped eating and, appeared to settle down for a nap.

 

“Our time to strike must be now!” I insisted. “Before she eats any more people!”

“I agree with our friend Mr. Sharpp,” said Professor Blake. “With a full and satisfied belly the giantess has been lulled into a deep comatose state which so often overcomes one after gestation.” 

 

The other gentlemen were in agreement so we hurriedly set about our plan. We snuck forward, keeping to the undergrowth for natural cover. Fortunately this was easy as blades of grass overshadowed us with ease. Swiftly and silently we made our way to the basket that imprisoned our objective.

 

As I was by far the strongest of the group I was given the job of moving the wicker latticework so its occupants could escape. The professors would assist me while Major Weatherford, who was unquestionably the best shot and bravest of all of us, would cover us with a long range rifle.

 

 I ran forward with the pickax that Major Weatherford had given me and inserted it into the gap between the wicker weavings that were so thick they might have been made of steel. I then braced myself and heaved for all it was worth while the two learned men secured ropes in the gap held open by my handy work. Then they made haste to secure the ropes to another part of the wicker with a knot that I had shown them and made them practice before hand. Unfortunately, Professor Carter was somewhat sluggish in tying the knot and, unable to bear the strain any longer, the wooden handle of my pickax broke in my hand. The metal head of the ax cut through the rope Professor Blake had secured and just like that, our plan was thwarted.

 

“Quick,” hissed Major Weatherford, his bearing of one who has seen death bearing down on him. “She has awoken. It was that loud crack of the pickax that did it. Make for the brush!”

 

It was far too late. I looked back at the faces of the men I had intended to rescue.

“Don’t leave,” pleaded a boy no older than twelve from within.” I quickly tried to pull on Professor Carter’s untied line but with little affect. I noticed that two of my three companions were sprinting for the undergrowth. The scrawny Professor Blake held a commanding lead with the hefty Professor Carter bringing up the rear, his great huffs and puffs audible  to me even from the great distance that separated us.

“Quick lad,” shouted the Major, “Run for it. You can’t help them now. All you can do is escape yourself.”

He himself was taking aim with his rifle as the giantess eyed us and began to stir. Even when she bore down upon him he did not move to escape. I do not know if this was because he thought he could discourage her with a shot but I think it more probable that he assumed escape impossible and was simply making a stand.

 

His gunshots echoed throughout the camp but the giantess didn’t even blink. They clearly didn’t harm her in the least. She raised her foot high and brought it down on Major Weatherford. Then with a glance at me she pursued the two fleeing scientists.

 

Quickly making them, with her back turned to me she ate them. I think Professor Carter was first. Then with a swallowing motion she loaded Professor Blake into her mouth and another gulping sound was heard.   

 

Returning to the campsite, her eyes fell on me again. I was frozen in mid tug as I was still trying to open the latticework of wicker bars that held the trapped sailors. She quickly swept me up and I suddenly had a good idea of what it would be like to be a bug in someone’s hand.

 

I saw her reach out and break the line I had been pulling like a bit of string. It was very disconcerting to have seen all three of my comrades killed so quickly and brutally and now I suspected that I would be added to the basket or the belly of this woman.   

 

“You speak English?” she said looking at me squirming in her palm.

“Err… err...”

“You are English?”

“Err… Yes. That is to say no. I am American. I am from the United States.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Edward Sharpp is my name.”

“Well Edward Sharpp, do you know why I have not eaten or crushed you?”

“Uh… no.” I was worried that she might suddenly change her mind or that she might be leading up to something even more baleful.

“Because you did not flee like the other two and you did not fire upon me like the first man. I really shouldn’t have crushed him. He seemed quite a bit fitter than those two I ate. My friends would have loved him.” She glanced somewhat regretfully at the crushed body of Major Weatherford. “You were the only one who kept trying to save the people in the basket. That is why you are still alive.”

“But Major Weatherford stayed to cover our retreat!” I spluttered. 

“He shot at me!” she said looking furious and for a moment I think she contemplated ending my life but then her expression softened.

“I admired your steadfast will that kept you pulling on that tiny bit of yarn trying to open up a gap for my food to escape. It was daring and I admire audacious spirit. Perhaps we could become better acquainted.”

I wasn’t sure about this. After all she had just crushed one of my friends and eaten two others. But what choice did I have?

“Err… Are you going to eat me?”

“I don’t think so. I bet that we get along and become great friends.”

 

So there it stood. My survival now relied upon maintaining cordial relations with a giant woman who ate people for lunch. Of all the possible situations to find oneself in I must admit I never would have conceived of such a bizarre happenstance.

“My name is Kara I come from a land of Giant Woman. We are a small society but we get along well enough. I am a gatherer. I go out and collect food to bring back to the group. I specialize in little fellows like you.”

“Don’t you eat any fruit or vegetables?”

“Yes but I love eating your kind so that’s why I asked for this job. You’re so much fun to chase. It’s great to feel you wiggle as you go down too!

She smiled widely and I could see past her slightly parted white teeth to where the professors had disappeared.

 

I spent the night sleeping, or rather, lying on her stomach. It was disconcerting to think of the digested bodies of my friends coursing their way through the digestive system beneath me.

 

We awoke and the giantess inserted me into her bosom. (She was scantly clad and I had a clear view of the world around me as I slipped in to her supporter bra.) She picked up the basket and we started off. She talked to me most of the way until, as we were walking along the beech she chanced to espy  a sailing vessel. A very large triple masted square rigger. She put the basket down and started into the water immediately.

 

I couldn’t see her expression but the sailors on deck watched in awe as she approached. Their lovesick faces were unmistakable as she now came towards them.

“Look a giant maiden.”

“Isn’t she the wonder of the seas?”

“God she is beautiful.”

“Look there’s a man in her bra! Do you think she will give us rides?”

 

I tried to signal that they were in grave danger but they weren’t paying much attention to me. She picked up one man on deck and placed him in her bra about a hundred feet from me. The men onboard looked sick with envy and some were reaching up to her asking for a turn.

 

She reached out and grabbed another man who looked extatic at the prospect of being her new intrest, but she quickly brought him up to her mouth. I lost site of him but had a good view of the bottom of her mouth and the unmistakable swallowing motion it made. The first sailor had been eaten.

 

Amid cries on deck she grabbed the spritsail and began to drag the heavy craft over to the beach. One man fail from the cross trees (the very top of the mast) and she caught him in her open mouth and swallowed him whole.

 

Soon she had the ship beached and was gathering up all the men pouring out of her. Not a soul did I see escape her hands, which fed her ravenous mouth or placed the men into the basket.  

Soon all were killed or captured and we resumed our trek across the beach, leaving the hollow wreck of the ship and the footprints of a thousand petrified sailors and one giantess.

 

Her belly gurgled. It must have been swelling with the mass of bully boys within it.

 

Finally we made camp for the night and she and I went for a walk on the beech. I was running along side her as she slowed her steps so I could keep up.

 

“Such a nice night, is it not Edward Sharpp?”

“Yes Kara! The sunset is beautiful.” I looked at the rose colored sky sinking in the west.

She sat down atop of a giant cluster of rocks and looked over the waves. God she was pretty. Her hair was blowing in the breeze and her as her manor of dress was minimal and simply to accent the curves of her supremely fit body, she cast a spell that would have enthralled the most faithful of men.

 

“Kara you are beautiful too!” I blurted without thinking.

She looked towards me and her face softened.

“You are a nice person Edward Sharpp.” She smiled and I nearly fell to the sand as my knees almost gave out under her benevolent and kind gaze.

 

Then we both took to looking out at see and observing a silence only broken by the wind and the gentle lap of waves on the white sand. I stole glances at her from time to time.

 

Slowly and without looking at what she was doing, she reached for the man whom she had placed in her bra earlier that day and brought him to her lips. He did not cry, perhaps because she was squeezing him to hard, but opened those large pink lips and brought him inside.

She had my full attention as she appeared to roll the man around in her mouth before swallowing. All the while she was looking out to sea, not even thinking of the horrible fate she was subjecting my fellow man to. I couldn’t look away from her when she, after a moment looked towards me again and smiled a strikingly beautiful smile at me with those pretty pink lips. How could someone so pretty be so ignorant to the suffering of others?

 

I asked her on the walk back to camp.

“Why do you eat people?”

“Because you are easy food and you taste good.”

“What about me? Aren’t we friends?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t friends with all the other people I have eaten.”

“But you could have been!” I countered.

“You could have been eaten,” she said. “You still could be!”

I dropped the matter and watched silently as she ate her fill of the men in the basket.

 

Before dropping off to sleep she smiled at me.

“We’ll be returning home tomorrow. Don’t worry. I won’t submit you with the rest of the food. You’ll be safe with me.”

I hoped she was right.

  

The next evening we finally arrived in the giantess camp. I was riding in Kara’s bra when I saw other massive forms before me. They were Kara’s tribe. The gargantuan females, all a damn sight beautifuler than I have seen in any port, we as scantly clad as my bearer. They greeted her with a hearty “Hello” and took her wicker basket from her talking excitedly amongst themselves. They placed the basket in the middle of their camp and examined its contense with great eagerness and exuberance. I can only imagine how the poor lads in the basket must have felt. To be looked upon as chattel by such beautiful creatures is more than one should have to stand.   

“Such a number of fellows you have captured Kara,” said one woman who looked older than the others and seemed to be the leader.

“You have done quite well! Tonight we must have a feast.”

“Thank you Ma’am,” said Kara.

“And who do we have here?” she asked, spying me.

“A young man who mounted a rescue on those I have just set before you. He did not flee when he knew he would be captured. I saved him because I was taken with his courage and have kept him as a companion ever since.”

“I am sure he will taste delicious,” said the woman.

“I promised him he would not be eaten. He is my friend and has not tried to escape since I met him,” Kara pleaded.

“He will be eaten tonight, the sooner the better. No, Kara, I don’t care what you promised him. He dies tonight. You don’t have to do it. Put him in the basket with the others. Someone at random will get the little fellow. You yourself will eat at the other fire where a different batch have been collected by Tara.”

It was with great reluctance that Kara placed me into the basket.

“I’m sorry Edward Sharpp. I did what I could.”

“Thank you for letting me live for so long Kara,” I told her.

 

Night fell quickly. My fellow prisoners and I watched the giantesses come and go with great anxiety. Finally, they began a conflagration in a fire pit that might have fit the whole of a small town within it. And so it was with the loud crackle and snap of the sticks in the blaze that with eerie light threw the advancing woman into harsh reality. They were so beautiful in the red yellow flames that illuminated their scantly clad forms and their beautiful faces as they reached towards us. Instantly our penitentiary was filled with giant hands, the fingers of which were much larger and more powerful then our combined strength. Many men were lifted from that cage and the woman moved towards the fire to scrutinize their captures in better light. There was nothing left to do for those of us remaining but to watch.

What I saw will stay with me for the rest of my life. Surely we had been brought into some undescribed and unknown level of Dante’s Inferno. I shall transcribe the events of which we, the unhappy lot of cast-away men were forced to bare witness.          

 

One flaxen haired woman, whose age was somewhere between twenty and thirty, had lowered her chin to the ground and placed her tongue before her prisoner, commanding him to; “Get on!”

The man flatly declined the invitation, poor fool. None of us knew what was to happen next.

 

"Oh, so you refuse an order from a superior being do you? Really sir, you allow yourself great latitude!" she said coolly.

 

The woman caught him up in her massive hand and he was brought behind her to her fundament. The man was afforded a good view of her posterior before he was suddenly thrust into it!

 

The woman sat down for a moment or two and waited. Several people argued later as to the time she allowed the man to remain within her but it could have been no more than a moment or two. Then the woman excused herself from the group and retired to the forest and out of the glow of the firelight.

 

I then took notice of another giantess, this one with the darkest of hair imaginable and brown eyes. I put her age in the early twenties. She was toying with a young boy whose age I believed to be no more than fifteen.

 

“Come now, you’re not afraid are you?” was the question that she put to him.

 

The lad was visibly shaking and plainly very scared. I did not overhear his response because he faced away from me and the distance between us was far to great for his voice to carry in any effect.   

 

“Aww. Poor little boy,” cooed the lady holding him. “You’re not afraid of me? You have nothing to fear. I love little boys such as yourself.” She placed him on her stomach and grabbed another of her captives.

 

“You on the other hand,” she said to the man. She did not finish her sentence but instead opened her mouth. We in the cage caught the briefest of glimpses of the inside of her mouth as she brought the man up to it. Then he was shoved inside. She closed her mouth and tossed the man around within, looking down at the youth on her belly and smiling at him. Then suddenly she craned her neck and swallowed, the briefest of disturbances visible under the white skin of her neck.  

 

“Now wasn’t that fun?” she inquired of her young captive. “I am sure you will enjoy it as much as I did. I bet you will be tastier too.”

 

As I said, there was no way of me hearing the youth talking to the giant woman but he undoubtedly said something in regards to her previous assertions that his fear of her was baseless.

 

“Oh, I’m not going to eat you tonight silly! I like little boys for breakfast.” She smiled a smile that might have meted the heart of a member of the Spanish Inquisition. It was however a terrible smile to the boy staring up at her, unable to pull his eyes away from the vision of gigantic white teeth rimmed with red trim.

 

My heart sank for the poor youth as he was carried to the woman’s breast and placed within her bra. His position was inescapable.

 

Just then the flaxen haired maiden returned, carrying the form of the man who had just journeyed up her keel. He appeared to have been washed thoroughly. His eyes were bloodshot when I saw them. He was wearing no clothing whatsoever.

 

The giantess placed him before us and then leaned down once more.

“Climb into my mouth, food!”

She placed her chin to the ground and extended her tongue to the man once again. This time he complied with her order, and scampered to a rather precarious sitting position on her wet red tongue. It was terrible to hear him whimper as the tongue was drawn back into the mouth. Her lips closed behind it and suddenly she swallowed.

 

“My food must obey my commands,” said the woman and she extracted another man from our prison and placed him before her.

“Get onto my tongue, food,” she whispered.

The man quickly obeyed and we watched as she swallowed this man too.

 

The woman who Kara had spoken to so respectfully was present as well. She was by far the fastest eater of them all. She placed her food all around her and made snyde comments to her victims as she ate.

“Ha! A dung pile will be your grave!” she said to one just before she swallowed him. “You will suffer painfully and I will delight in your every twitch,” she told another and swallowed him too.

 

Two other giantesses were present as well. They seemed content to simply swallow their food without further ado.

 

Once these and others had eaten their captures, they came back for more and the horror began again. This batch however, seemed to fill their cavernous bellies and my comrades and I were left to try to sleep. Nearby, I watched the woman dose, thinking of how many people was within their bodies now. There was not a way to save them. What could one do now but commit his soul to Almighty God?

 

“Hello there young fella,” said one man, coming up to me. “Pretty doings, what?” He gesticulated towards the woman.

“A tragedy,” I responded. I imagine I sounded as dejected as I felt.

“A tragedy yes, no doubt about that,” said the man. He didn’t look quite as shaken as the others in this prison with us. He seemed to realize that I was confused that he seemed cheerful in the shadow of death.

 “Poor gents,” he indicated the men still around us in the wicker cage. “Living in dread of the coming light. Ah well not any use in trying to console the poor rotters. May as well be dead already. I’ve been in the hands of a tribe of cannibals before but their nothing compared to this crowd.”

“Why aren’t you scared?” I asked the stranger.

“Because my lad, I’ve nursed a fantasy of being captured by a giant woman all my life and here I am. No use hiding it now. So tomorrow, come what may, I meet it without fear. I could put the same question to you. Why aren’t you all of a quiver?”

“I have watched enough men devoured by giant woman over the past few days that I have come to expect it as my end.” I said. “My brain must have gone numb to the idea.”

“Good enough my lad,” said the stranger. “What do you say to make an escape attempt from here? Give us something to do eh? If I escape with you, we get to live. The worst that can happen to us is that we’ll all end up in the belly of a giantess, where were going anyway. What do you say?”  

“Of course, but how are we to go about doing it?”

“Well we can start by making use of this boarding ax. I had it with me when my ship was taken and was able to conceal it from our hostess as she carried us here. I expect we can hack through some of these bars well enough. The name is Captain Jonny Price by the way. East India Trading Company.”

“Eddie Sharpp, of the New Bedford whaling ship Destiny.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said and gestured me to follow him.

 

He led me to the side of the basket that was furthest from the giantesses and, producing the small tool, he began to hack away. When he tired, I took over for him. People came crowding around to cheer us on but my new friend waved them away.

“Don’t come around here. They may wake and want to see what it is you’re all interested in and come to investigate. Leave me and the lad to work and we’ll all escape when we’ve cleared a hole.”

 

I could feel the eyes upon me as I worked. After many hard strikes we had succeeded in breaking through one wicker ribbon and set to work on cutting it some four feet down the ribbon, right were there was a joining of the weaving.

 

Finally after much exhausting work, during which we enlisted the help of a few others, we succeeded in removing a panel of our jail. There was a fair streaming of people towards this new exit but John and I were the first out.

“Now my lad! Break for the ocean!” hissed Captain Price.

Soon we were all running through the giant landscape. I noticed that Price and I had a considerable lead on most of the others.

“That’s it, keep running and we’ll soon be clear of them!” said Captain Price between breaths.

 

And so we ran. We ran as far as I ever have. Some were able to keep pace with us. I heard them behind me as I struggled to catch up to the Captain. Suddenly there was a loud crash from behind and a giantess loomed over us.

“Stop and your lives will be ended quickly!” she shouted as she reached towards one man. She caught him and he went into her bra as she reached for another.

“Time to start running now lad,” shouted the Captain and put on quite a burst of speed.

 

I tried to hold his pace but couldn’t. Soon he was lost from sight as he wove through the giant blades of grass.

I didn’t make it much further before that black haired woman caught me. Then it was into her bra for the ride back to the camp. The only bright side I could see was that I knew she hadn’t caught John Price and that I was not in the possession of the flaxen haired woman.

 

“Girls, we must consume these ungrateful fools at once,” said the leader woman when we returned to camp. “They have escaped somehow. We will not suffer to loose them again. Please eat as many as you can.”

So there you have it. They began to eat us and didn’t stop. They had already patched up the cage and placed the ones awaiting death into it while they started on the others. It was only because of our vast numbers that I have had the time to transcribe all of this onto the few pages of paper available to me. The giantesses have all become full but they keep a constant watch on us so that we cannot escape again. It doesn’t matter anyway. We cannot find John Price’s ax anywhere.

 

 I wonder which giantess will eat me. I write as I watch a young man brought to the lips of the blonde giantess. I hope you, dear reader, can escape my sure fate. God speed.

 

Edward Sharpp.

    

It is with the utmost respect that I write of the passing of Mr. Edward Sharpp. Not long after he had finished putting down an account his adventures he was taken up by a dark haired giantess. She teased him and played with him quite a bit; pushing him into the flesh of her stomach and teasing him with her tongue. Then she raised him high with her and lowered him into her greedy mouth where he disappeared from view. The giantess then swallowed Mr. Sharpp and gave every indication of enjoyment as she did so. May Mr. Sharpp rest in peace.

 

This addition to Mr. Sharpp’s tale added by Mr. T.S. West.

>>>   

“Well there we are Pierre,” said Sam, putting down the diary and looking out through the wicker at the giantesses beyond. “I suppose Mr. Sharpp is in that one.” He pointed towards the dark haired, dark eyed giantess sleeping nearby. I wonder which one will get us. 

 

It wasn’t long to find out. Soon, three giantesses were converging on their prison. The blonde one reached in and snatched up Pierre, popping him into her mouth and gulping loudly. Sam knew that he would soon be sliding down one of those beautiful laidy’s throats himself and felt his heart rate rise. He tried to calm himself by breathing deeply as a huge hand reached out for him. Suddenly he was brought up to the face of the brunette woman. Her large lips parted slightly and he was propelled forward towards it. Barely did he have time to wonder if this was the same giantess who had eaten Eddie Sharpp when suddenly he was resting on the tip of her tongue.

“This is it,” thought Sam, but he was wrong.

 

Instead of swallowing, the girl moved towards a red-headed giantess and pressed her lips against hers. Sam was plunged into darkness as the two beauties locked lips. Sam felt himself pressed between two tongues. He was then transferred to the redhead’s tongue who flicked him against the top of her mouth. Suddenly he was on the tip of her tongue and being pressed between her soft lips again. Then the brunette’s lips closed around him, meeting the redhead’s lips in a new embrace and took poor Sam with them.

 

She tilted her head back, Sam sliding towards the back of the well lit throat. She laughed and he watched her uvula dance beneath him with each “ha.” Suddenly he was plunged into darkness as the mouth closed and the plane of the tongue leveled off to horizontal. Sam was now deep within the mouth, near the precipice of the throat. He knew he should begin to make way towards the entrance of the mouth behind him but did it really matter? He had no way of opening the mouth when he reached the entrance. Suddenly, the tongue shifted beneath him and he slid back to the tip of the tongue again. Her mouth was opening and he could see the red head’s mouth in front of it. He was lifted once again towards the out of the mouth and entered the red-heads mouth once again riding a foreign tongue. The redhead scooped him up excitedly and closed her mouth. Suddenly he was being pressed against the top of her mouth again.

 

Just let it end! thought Sam.

 

As if on queue, the redhead’s throat opened, Sam was pushed back into it while riding the crest of a wave of the tongue. He felt hot sticky flesh close around him and then suddenly he was falling, falling, falling. Something opened beneath him and then; splash! Into the stomach he went. There was no air in here and the vapor gasses in here were oppressive. The stomach acid began to burn. Sam thrashed about and flailed, trying to stay alive as long as he could. It did little to prolong his life.  

  

Epilog: What Became of John Price.

John Price ran as he never had before. It was a good twenty miles before he came to the sea. Luckily, he chanced to see a sail on the horizon and not daring to hope for rescue, began to swim. It was another two miles before he arrived to the three masted ship and was hauled aboard by the crew. He implored the master of the vessel to make sail with all speed away from the island as there were several pirate attacks there. This the master realizing his crew to be in danger, ordered the anchor raised and to put up all sail. Soon they were safe at sea.

 

The end.