Diary Entry
Dear Diary,
Wu has brought me a gift from the “blossoms” that he indicated I should rub into my cheeks, some form of beautification salve. When, after a few days, I had not done so, the women took it upon themselves while we were taking the air upon the observation deck to cluster around me and coo and cluck with worry. They are continually fascinated by the fine hairs that rise upon my forearms whenever they stroke my skin lightly and equally concerned with my face. It has only just dawned on me as I sit to write this that perhaps they have never seen freckles before? It makes sense now: they are mistaking my natural sun speckles for a pox!
This is but a trifle, though, compared to the subject I must now record. I have found, truly, a subject that our scientific investigations have never before uncovered. Yet it is my curse that the knowledge should be something I can surely never publish? In the interest of science, however, I shall record my findings here nonetheless, in case the facts may some day be relevant in a world free of the social strictures imposed upon our society like a corset upon a body.
Recall that I was charged with the personal care of the specimens in my cargo by both my own Company orders and the promises made to their spiritual leader. How then, was I to react when one of the five women appeared to sicken during the voyage? She grew pallid and weak, and seemed unable to eat. I pressed Wu to interrogate them as to which of the herbs we were transporting with her might help her condition: they universally answered none .
This led to a fascinating side investigation into the herbs themselves. I have recorded their native names and drawings on the following page, along with the claims of the women, as to which one prevented pregnancy, which one prevented consumption. Another would prevent her from contracting syphilis! (Or so I believe the disease described by the women and Wu to be, under its rightful name.)
I have followed the publishing of Doctor William Grosvenor at St. Bartholomew's hospital avidly in recent years. The good doctor writes eloquently about how the average prostitute, rather than being ridden with disease as some might presume, is typically possessed of robust health—even more robust than wives and society ladies of good standing. He attributes this to a form of increased constitution gained through sensuality.
I myself would not have found this claim credible, but given my experiences aboard the Horizon, I have to concede there is some possibility that Grosvenor is correct. I have also formulated an additional hypothesis. In light of the botanical evidence I have gathered, it may be that there may be herbal treatments that the women of the night do not—perhaps dare not—share with their more innocent sistren, and keep to themselves for their sorority?
However, certainly the women under my care seem to wilt whenever they are not regularly experiencing ecstatic paroxysms. And when this even more severe case presented itself, in the form of Lily (for that is the name I gave her) falling acutely ill, I tried all other remedies first. When my herbal tinctures produced no positive effect, though, the women took charge of her from me, carrying her into their curtained-off section of the hold with much scolding.
I confess my curiosity got the better of me and I watched through a knothole in the deck above them to see what they would do.
I was amazed to watch as one of the women cradled her, while another lifted Lily's dress and manipulated her as I had done Rose on that first night they were in my charge. (Wu tried to teach me their names, but my tongue will not quite stretch around their native vowels and the women seem quite pleased with their new designations.) Soon she was tunneling into Lily's body with her fingers, though, jabbing her with a violence I would not previously have been certain a woman could withstand! Well, certainly not the frail, corseted creatures we are accustomed to, but these princesses, these blossoms, for all their delicate beauty, have a toughness and strength I can only compare to silk itself.
This treatment was apparently not sufficient, for soon, egged on by needy cries from Lily, Rose soon placed her hands at her own groin, making a sort of phallus of her fingers, and proceeded to emulate the motions and effect of a male partner.
I need not record, perhaps, that this sight astounded me, and indeed I hesitate to mention anything that could be construed as unsubstantiated by science. However, I postulate there must be some pheromonal component to such an action. Certainly it would not be unexpected for a male such as myself to achieve an erect state by such a visual presentation, and although I attempted to reduce my turgidity by means of repeating mathematical formulae in my mind, nothing could dissuade my blood from surging. I also experienced other effects that mere ocular input alone cannot elucidate, including elevated cardiac and respiratory activity, and one other telltale symptom—
That is to say I was not previously aware that it was possible that such an exposure alone could cause a man to spend, untouched, in his breeches.
This warrants further investigation.