Changing Island: Entry 11

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Entry 11

I've made mention of hair many times in my past entries, particularly how essentially every one of us gets longer hair along the way to turning into a pretty girl. It's a natural (or at least generally expected) part of femininity, after all, and I've had reason to have it on my own mind lately, too. With all of the girls on the island, with all of our varying lengths of hair, and especially with how much walking around sandy beaches and swimming a lot of us tend to do, it's only natural that everyone needs some help tending to all that hair.

All of that is to say, of course we've got a hair salon here. One of the big rooms off the entryway of one of the houses is where it is, and a liscensed beautician runs it along with her two housemates and the odd volunteer when the volume gets to be too much. She doesn't just cut and style hair, either, and is always happy to have another 'canvas' to paint with her particular kind of art. Her name's Jill, and today she was willing to give me an interview in her salon, even while she was busily working with customers the whole time. Talking while working seems to be second nature to people like her—or people with her sort of job, in my experience.

As I'm sure you could guess, Jill used to be a male beautician—named Jack. He was tall, rugged and handsome, proud of the way he kept his hair and his beard. There's no proof of this, because he was the sixth person to wash ashore here, around a month and a half after Najira did—so there's no pictures of how she used to look. He was working in a salon aboard a massive and extremely fancy cruise ship, got a little too inebriated at a staff party after hours, went up on deck, there was a storm...I'm sure you could guess this part too. He fell overboard, was underwater for maybe two or three seconds, and there was no ship when he surfaced. He tried to swim in a straight line, hoping desperately to find land or at least another ship, but he wasn't a very good swimmer back then, and eventually collapsed into the ocean, only to wake up here.

Since the island wasn't anywhere near as populated back then, nobody found him when he first washed ashore; instead, he slowly stood up and went inland to look for civilization, and soon found the houses. It was only after he called out a few times that Najira came outside to welcome him. Now, with how early into this island's habitation this was, the pattern of men washing ashore and turning into attractive women was known, but not to the point where they were completely sure it was inevitable. She told him that it had happened to her and the four other girls on the island at the time, and that it might happen to him, in an effort to keep him from being shocked if and when it did. Jack was somewhat distracted by her poorly-maintained hair, some frayed and split ends here and there, and let her know about those things as soon as she was done talking, practically begging her to let him fix it and help her not have those issues again.

The same kind of thing happened with the other girls as he met them—all of them needed the care of a stylist and a little bit of advice (at least, that's what Jill tells me anyway). He went looking for a brush and a pair of scissors in the nearest house and basically claimed a room to work in, pulling in some chairs and chatting with the five of them while he worked. He complained about not having everything he needed, and someone went and raided the nearest bathroom to at least get him a hairdryer. By the time he was done fussing with everyone's hair and giving them all advice, it was late in the afternoon, so Najira offered to treat him and everyone else to some supper at her place.

"Now, this part's freaky," is what Jill said. When they were done eating, Jack went back to the makeshift salon to put back all the borrowed chairs and grooming equipment, only to find the entire room had completely changed in everyone's absence. Suddenly there were mirrors across the walls, counters, lifting chairs and hairdryer chairs. The counters were fully stocked with everything a stylist could ever want or need, including shampoos and gels, sinks, hairdriers and razors and all the necessary outlets to run them. Besides that, the places he'd borrowed things from had either reclaimed those items or spontaneously generated replacements.

To me this isn't quite as shocking as I'm sure it was to them, given that I've already heard about the spontaneous appearance of an entire library filled with books—but I think this is the first time that something like this ever happened. Anyway, Jack called everyone to come look, and used some of that equipment for a second round with a few of the girls who were willing. And he noticed, after everyone left, while he was shutting off the lights in the salon and getting ready to go to a neighboring bedroom for a well-earned sleep, a "weird feeling down below, you know?" (Jill's words).

In fact, the very first change Jack seemed to experience was the source of this feeling. He went to a bathroom to check, and found that his manhood was already much smaller than he remembered, and visibly shrinking even more. Since he'd been warned this might happen, it wasn't quite as surprising as it might have been, but it was still—she told me—"super weird and surreal." He continued on toward bed from then, stripping off everything but his boxers, but he couldn't get to sleep while the strange feeling between his legs continued—especially not when he knew exactly what it was.

Maybe an hour or so after he lay down, the feeling came on especially strong for a matter of just a few seconds, and—well, Jill described it to me as "That's when my 'little Jack' became a 'little Jill'!" Which is to say, he'd already turned physically female, along with a small burst of "good feelings down there" before her body was finally comfortable enough to allow her to sleep.

She woke up the following morning to find that the boxers had shrunk into a pair of tight, feminine boyshorts, but the clothes she'd taken off the night before—as well as all the other clothes that had generated themselves into place in her bedroom—still looked like they belonged on a man's body: Pants, shorts, shirts, that kind of thing. In fact, she hadn't changed at all since becoming female, making her look and sound just like the man she'd washed ashore as. Jack wasn't really sure how to break this to the other girls at this point, so she decided to just not worry about it, putting on some swim trunks and a tank top and going to have breakfast and see whether there was any work to do.

A couple of girls wanted a little more advice from 'him', but with all the work Jack had done on his first day there, there was nobody in particular need of a haircut. She did persuade one girl to let her do her nails, and had some fun manicuring and painting them up "nice and pretty". Jack noticed her beard slowly steadily thinning away, shrinking into a few patches of peach fuzz by lunchtime—and this was the first thing anyone else noticed too, leading the girl whose nails she was doing to remark that that was probably the start of "the change". Jack sort of chuckled at this, but still felt too embarrassed to tell her why and said it was 'nothing' instead.

After lunch, Jack's facial hair vanished the rest of the way off, and so did the hair on her arms, legs, and torso, all of that skin softening and smoothing as it happened. She was actually delighted to see this shift in complexion, taking it as a sign that she wasn't going to be stuck as a strangely manly-looking girl for very long. Yet, similar to the day before, these changes were the only ones that hit her, and she was left smooth-skinned and female but still oddly tall, rugged and handsome-looking by the end of the day.

She was happy to wake up the next morning to a tangle of hair all around her head. That is—she wasn't happy about the tangled hair, but rather the fact that it had grown overnight to a length sufficient for it to even be able to tangle. When she got up and brushed it straight, she found it was already a couple of inches past shoulder length; additionally, its color had paled slightly, "like someone had done a bad job of trying to un-bleach it". This was wonderful news to the hair stylist, since it meant she could actually play with her own hair now instead of only other people's. Jill admitted to me at this point that—as Jack—he'd always been a little jealous of how pretty girls' hair could look. He made himself look as great as he could, but felt like he just couldn't pull off long, pretty hair and all the fun styles it could come in. Well—now she'd be able to do just that, even if she mostly still looked like the man she'd been back then.

All of her available underwear had been boyshorts the day before, and now it had all shrunk further, into panties and bikini bottoms. All the other clothes were different too, a little tighter-fitting and more feminine looking. Jill remarked to me that most of the outfits were too small to even fit her at all, leaving her with some male-sized swim trunks and a hawaiian shirt as her best option for the moment.

Anticipating that there wouldn't be very many "customers" today either, Jack decided to go out to the ocean and try to learn to swim a little bit better. She was thinking about how she'd wound up on the island in the first place; even though it's unlikely that even an Olympic-level swimmer could've gotten out of that situation alive (without our island "scooping him up" anyway), she just didn't want to feel so helpless in the water ever again. That meant she had on a bikini bottom under the trunks, of course. One of the other girls was happy to give her some pointers, but noted that a lot of it was just practice, after all—so Jack resolved that she would practice.

She noticed the color in her hair slowly draining out while she swam, like the ocean was washing off some dye. It wasn't long at all before it had turned a pure, snowy white—which Jill tells me makes it a "perfect canvas for coloring!" She actually likes to keep it the natural color a lot of the time, but now and then—including at the time of the interview—she'll give it some other color just for fun. Right now, it's this very pretty, vibrant red.

She came out of the water around lunchtime. Now, since she was actually female, Jack didn't feel too comfortable going topless, even though her chest hadn't "sprouted" just yet, so she'd been wearing that hawaiian shirt this entire time. It had gotten thoroughly soaked, and so was hanging down and dragging off of her; she thought it was uncomfortable because it was so wet. That was only partly true by the time she waded back ashore, because—once she was standing up straight on dry land—it became quite clear that it was also falling extremely loose around her shoulders and hanging its hem way down to her thighs. She had, in the course of the morning, shrunk quite a bit of height and width off, leaving her with a shorter and much more slender, androgynous build.

It was obviously a good idea to have a quick shower and towel off before going to eat anyway, so she used that as an excuse to also change clothes, and came out wearing a much smaller tank top and a pair of soft gym shorts, both of which fit her smaller body much more tightly and made her changes much more obvious. Particularly, the shorts did nothing to hide just how flat she was between the legs. So no sooner was she in view of the other girls than they took notice, surprisedly asking her when she'd "changed over".

Jack's voice was still a deep, male one; she was still a bit on the tall side for a girl, and while slim, her build remained androgynous and without any curves to it. But she admitted anyway that she'd actually been a girl since her first night of sleep on the island. Jill told me that she expected some kind of negative reaction from someone about her behavior—including keeping it a secret, since everyone seemed so interested in what was happening with her change—but instead everyone was supportive and encouraging, saying they were sure she'd turn out beautiful. Najira led the charge with this, but everyone else seemed sincere about their friendly expressions too.

Jill said that this was the moment where she felt truly accepted here, like this place could be her home for a very long time—and told me that she resolved to try to give that feeling to every other person who washed ashore here and got changed, in a similar sort of way. I actually haven't heard it put into words by any of the other girls here, but...I think that a majority must feel something quite similar. It explains the way everyone talks about new people changing, including to their own faces. Some new arrivals, like Kate when she was one, find this behavior a little bizarre and hard to swallow at first, but I think the intentions tend to shine through quickly enough.

Anyway, one of the girls had seen the manicure job she'd done the day before, and asked Jack for something similar, so she had some work to do in the afternoon. More customers came in while she worked, all wanting one beauty treatment or another, and she was happy to provide them. While her body didn't change shape any more for the rest of that day, Jack did notice her voice steadily changing, its pitch rising a little more just about every time she talked, until the end of her workday—about suppertime once again—when it had landed at a high, cute, but still somewhat mature girlish tone.

She announced at supper that she'd like to be called Jill from now on, and that she sincerely hoped her body wasn't quite finished changing yet. A tall, flat-chested girl could still be beautiful with the right 'do, Jill remarked to me at this point, but some curves and a softer face would go a long way to helping her out.

Jill's fourth day on the island started out similar to the others. She woke up with the same body shape as the night before, but found her available wardrobe altered once again: Nearly everything looked too small or short for her current size, and there were now bras and bikini tops among the things that didn't seem likely to fit her just yet. Given what had happened the day before, she took this as a good sign, and just wore the smallest tank top that would fit her out to the beach to try and practice her swimming a little more. There was nothing left to hide this time, so she used just a bikini bottom—all the boyish swim trunks had disappeared by now anyway.

Since she was actually expecting her body to change throughout the morning, Jill took periodic breaks to check in on it this time. She was delighted each time to find herself shorter, with narrower shouders, a slimmer waist, slenderer arms and legs ending in smaller hands and feet. The tank top that had been a tight fit on her coming out of the shower that morning was hanging loosely off of her upper body and trailing halfway down her hips by noon, and she was "starting to really feel like a girl now!"

These changes were complemented by some more in the afternoon. She went to work in the salon again then, having changed out the wet swimming clothes for a bikini bottom, some short jean-shorts, and a crop top that showed off her midriff before going to lunch. (I must say, it seems like Jill remembers every single outfit she wore back then...and possibly every one since then, too.) While she was walking around helping style a girl's hair, her stance and balance slowly shifted because of her hips spreading themselves out and her butt turning bigger and rounder. The salon mirrors displayed her face getting softer and rounder, becoming just as cute as her voice sounds. And last of all, once those changes seemed to be completely finished, Jill's chest finally showed some signs of growth.

They puffed themselves out only the tiniest bit before she went to supper, and after she'd come back to her house to relax for the evening, she found them very slowly raising and filling themselves out over the course of another hour or two, until they finally seemed to stop. She went to get a good look at herself in the mirror after then, and tells me that she right decided then and there she was "perfect!". I'm inclined to agree—she's got a petite figure, but still a very fetching and cute one. In defiance of her believing herself to be done, however, she woke up the following morning to find her right eye had abruptly changed its color from blue to a bright yellow. She found this mismatch with her unchanged left eye kind of annoying at first, but soon came to see her heterochromia as a unique aspect of her beauty, especially when other people said they thought it suited her.

By the time Saya came around, Jill was already a pretty accomplished swimmer, and had long since gone from doing it to get better to just swimming or floating around from time to time as a way to relax. She actually caught the beautician on her way back in from a 'therapeutic swim', which put her in a very relaxed and happy mood for the photo shoot. It seems like she gets along with our photographer quite well to this day, both of them having very compatible views on aesthetics—at least when it comes to girls, anyway.

"I feel like I already know," I said, "but how do you feel about being stuck a girl?"

"Pffsh, stuck," she answered first. "I mean like, sure, I dunno how I'd turn back, but why would I ever want to? Just look at this pretty face and amazing hair!" She gave her hair a little flip.
"Yeah, point taken."

Well, I said that, but in my opinion, there's more for a person to want out of her body than it just being attractive. Jill doesn't look extremely toned, but given how great of a swimmer she is (and how fast she seems to have picked up surfing since Danny showed up), I guess she must be much more physically fit than she looks at a first glance. It seems like being able to play with her own looks the way she always could others' is a dream come true for her, at any rate; I suppose Saya feels something vaguely similar to that, too, since she can be a really good model for her own photos?

That said, besides being healthy and fit and attractive, and not having some obvious, glaring flaw including being too short to reach anything—I'm having a difficult time thinking of what else I could ever want out of my physical appearance. I suppose that even being really short can be tolerable for some people, like Kate—I never once heard her complain about her height in that interview. Is 'just being male' really all that valuable in the first place? I'm not even sure I'm in a good position to evaluate that, since that ship has already sailed for me, and we don't know of a way for anyone to actually change back...

I think it's almost time for me to write an entry for myself. I'm going to take a break from interviews and compiling notes and just try to relax while I ride this the rest of the way out. I anticipate writing up the entry tonight, after sunset, so...until then, I suppose.

Changing Island: Entry 10

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At this point, individual entries are getting long enough that each qualifies as a full-size story part on its own. Expect to see me post more of these soon, hopefully this week.

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Entry 10

Last night's entry was the last one I wrote as a man. I suspect my last entry for today is going to be my own. But, as I've said before, I want to wait until it's completely over before writing that. For now, I want to talk about the girl I interviewed this morning.

I was very surprised to see Ara's cat ears and tail, but now that I've been here a few days and started to meet a lot of the girls here, I've found that she's far from the only one to get odd traits like that in the process of turning into a cute girl. People like that are definitely a minority here, but it happens often enough that those who've been here for a while aren't particularly shocked to see it happen again. It's rare enough to be notable, certainly, but not unheard of. Now, halfway into the first year—that is, half a year after Najira's arrival—nothing like that had happened yet. That's where Kate comes in. Only, at the time, she was a guy named Kale.

Did you know that people get stranded on Hawaii? They go there for a vacation, or thinking that they can live on that island paradise for one reason or another, and then they end up jobless and homeless and can't afford plane tickets back to the mainland. It's such a problem that some charities on the island offer to pay for people's plane tickets back to the if they have friends or family on the other end to receive them, as long as they promise not to come back. Kale was someone like that.

Kate wouldn't tell me much about how she wound up on Hawaii—I think it's still a painful subject, so I didn't press—just that he didn't actually have anyone to "fly back to" and got desperate, eventually deciding to stow away on a shipping boat headed across to the mainland. No one caught him, but a few hours out at sea there was a huge storm, making the sky dark and the seas particularly rough. In his efforts to keep from getting crushed by a poorly-secured shipping container, he wound up slipping overboard all on his own, and there was no way to call for help. He gave up on swimming beore long, not having much strength to begin with because of how little he'd been eating up until then, and sank below the waves.

The first thing Kale thought when he woke up on the beach here was that he'd miraculously washed up back on Hawaii, despite how far out at sea he must've been when he fell overboard. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered inland, hoping to find someone kind enough to get him medical attention—but eventually realized that, apart from some stiffness and hunger, he actually felt a lot less terrible than he had when he'd gotten on that ship. He was walking normally by the time he found the houses, and from there some girls noticed him and welcomed him to the Changing Island.

"People actually welcoming me and treating me like a person again? It seemed way too good to be true," Kate told me. "But I was starving. So I asked if I could have something to eat, anything." Najira took him to her place and microwaved some leftovers from lunch—it was about mid-afternoon—and explained our situation here while he scarfed it greedily down. His responses all took the form of affirmative grunts and "uh-huh" and "sure" while she explained; he didn't believe a word of it. "Gotta be some kinda weird cult," she said she'd been thinking at the time. "But, hey, she fed me, soooo..."

Kale was suspicious of everyone. He didn't believe that he'd get to live in an actual house with free food provided; he didn't believe the attractive girls all around him had once been men who then had their own accidents at sea and wound up on this island too. He put up a neutral front as best he could, but some sour responses revealing his actual emotions bled through here and there, quickly earning him a reputation as a "grump" that's stuck to this very day. Still, Kale was determined to take advantage of his strange situation while he could, and he used the ingredients in his house to make himself a nice, big feast for supper that night. Kate told me that he learned a lot of recipes and techniques for cooking in general from his mother when he was a teenager; she'd insisted that it would help him "survive in college or whatever." The two girls already living there found him making it and asked if they could have some, and he shrugged—which they took as permission. In his greed, he really had made more than he alone could eat, so it turned out to not be a problem when they showed up and started helping themselves, thanking him for the delicious food.

By this point, Kale hadn't undergone any noticeable transformation. But as the two pretty girls living in the house with him thanked him once again and offered to take care of the dishes, he shrugged again. Then, still sitting there at the table with a full stomach and an empty plate in front of him, Kale felt a weird sort of push from both of his ears at once—"like the ears themselves were pushing, y'know", she said. In a matter of seconds, his ears had grown from human ears into two gigantic triangular things covered in fluffy fur—mostly black like his hair, with some white tufts on the inside. And then a similar feeling came to his lower back, and a long, equally fluffy black-furred tail burst its way out from the base of his spine just as quickly as the ears had grown.

The girls stopped in their tracks and silently stared for a long moment. Kale reached his hands up at the big, twitchy ears and turned around in his seat, trying to make sense of what he was feeling and seeing. It was a shock, to be sure. It didn't help that their first instinct (after quietly staring) was to run out and get everyone else's attention on the weird thing that had happened to the new arrival. Before he knew it, he was an unwilling celebrity, every girl on the island barging into "his" house to come have a look at the freak (Kate's choice of word here). That was until Najira seemed to notice how much the attention was annoying him, and commandingly yelled at everyone to give him some space before eventually kicking everyone who didn't live in that house out. She apologized to him, saying nothing like that had happened before and everyone was just very curious about it.

At this point Kale thought he had to be the subject of some bizarre science experiment, or maybe a Truman Show kind of thing. The pretty girls, the house, the food—all was just to lure him in so they could give him weird furry parts and see how he reacted. But he resolved then and there that he'd at least take advantage of the food and shelter until he was fully well, and then the instant he thought things were going south, he'd find a way out. Build a boat in secret and sail off the island in it himself, if he had to.

The girls living with him apologized profusely for the incident after Najira left, and repeated their offer to "at least" do the dishes. Kale just shrugged, said "It's whatever," and went upstairs to his room to sleep. Kate noted to me at this point in her account that he actually paused to look at his ears and tail himself in the mirror, and thought, "These really aren't too bad, for being the result of mad science or whatever. They don't hurt or anything. They'd even be pretty cute on...a girl." He'd actually forgotten at this point that Najira had told him he'd be turning into a girl pretty soon.

Kale hadn't changed any more by the time he woke up the following morning. He took a shower, deciding to shampoo the new fur, and went down to get himself breakfast. Once again, he mistakenly made too much, and once again his housemates were happy to share the "burden" of eating it in exchange for their doing the dishes.

It was while he was eating that Kale found another strange thing happening to him. He thought he was slouching in his seat, and tried to sit up, only to find that he already was sitting up. His perspective sank steadily downward from there, and his legs even pulled themselves upward so much that he found his feet lifting off of the floor entirely until he scooted forward in his seat—twice. He kept eating, watching the girls at the table with him for a reaction. They definitely noticed it was happening—stealing glances here and there—but seemed hesitant to comment on it.

Besides getting shorter, and his limbs getting shorter, Kale's body became decidedly smaller everywhere. His shirt tented out around him more and more as he shrank, his shoulders narrowing and his frame slimming away. Just as he was finishing up his breakfast, the shrinking finally, mercifully, came to a halt, leaving him shorter than both of his housemates—in fact, shorter than most everyone on the island, even now. It was then that he brought it up in conversation.

"Sooooo...I just shrank. Right? Like, a lot?" he said. Both of them agreed, saying something about how his change was starting for real after the strange addition of the fluffy ears and tail. He asked, "'My' change?" and one of them said something like you know, how everyone who washes up here gets turned into a girl? It was then that he remembered Najira saying something like that in his first encounter with her. He couldn't muster any response to that other than "Oh."

He gathered his baggy clothes up over him and made his way up the stairs, eventually giving up and letting his pants fall off once he got to his bedroom. Then he went to the mirror, shrugged, and tossed his shirt off too, to really get a good look at what had happened. Not only was Kale now very short, but his skin had already smoothed over too, losing its body and facial hair and turning soft and supple.

Since he'd been homeless before, suffering from some malnutrition, Kale had been gaunt when he washed ashore; now his body looked thin, with a narrow frame, and yet perfectly healthy. He remembered at this point that the effects of starvation really should've made it impossible for him to enjoy meals the way he had since washing ahore—it seemed like he'd genuinely become healthier and healthier since coming here. "Score one for mad science," was his dry remark about that.

He turned around to get his shirt and put it back on, only to find that it had shrunk to a size that matched his new short, slender self while he wasn't looking. The pants he'd discarded on the floor had done something similar, not only becoming something that fit his now-diminutive size, but also losing most of their leggings in order to convert into some jean-shorts. His clothes had also "repaired" themselves, losing all of the tattering and tearing from their stint as his only set of clothes while homeless to become just like some brand-new clothes. He half-wondered if someone had snuck in behind him, grabbed his old clothes and set down new ones in their place...but surely his humongous ears would've heard something like that.

Kale didn't feel like going to a ton of effort for lunch; he just made himself a sandwich. He expected his housemates to be disappointed or upset that he wasn't making something for everyone, but they seemed to instead happily walk in (having been off at the beach for the morning), make their own lunches, and ask politely if they could join him at the table. His response was a shrug, of course.

It was a few bites into the sandwich that Kale felt hair tickling his ears, his forehead, the back of his neck and the sides of his face. He set it down and reached up to find soft locks which were at least twice as long as they had been before, and which were still growing. It was at this point that he picked up on a pattern: Apparently, his body went through another bizarre change every time he ate. But..this time, it was seemingly just his hair getting longer. He shrugged to himself and went back to eating his sandwich.

The girls asked him if he wanted to go out to the beach, maybe meet some more people? He started to respond "Sure, I guess", but didn't get farther than "Su—" before pausing because what he heard come out of his own mouth didn't sound at all like his own voice. He cleared his throat, and the throat-clearing voice was still thoroughly unfamiliar. "Uuh. My voice?" he said aloud. Kate's voice is about as deep as a girl's voice can get, but there's no mistaking it for a guy's voice; it's a woman's through and through. That was the unfamiliar voice coming out of Kale's mouth after he finished eating his lunch. The girls didn't seem nearly as surprised as he was, remarking that it must have changed along with his hair. He sighed—deciding that at least the rules of the weird game he was stuck in were consistent—and went back to nominally agreeing to go outside and meet some more people.

"You know how everyone on this island is like..ridiculously supportive about the whole 'getting turned into a girl' thing?" Kate said. "I mean, I'm sure you've noticed by now." I said sure. "Well, it's pretty much always been that way." Everyone was talking about how cute Kale was already starting to look, how they loved his hair, and the ears and tail were bound to make him look even better. There were plenty of apologies about everyone swarming his place before, too. However, he had some suspicions of an ulterior motive behind their friendliness when he realized that his housemates had been telling everyone how good his cooking was. A few people were asking if he'd make dinner for them that night, too. He tried to clarify that he'd just been making himself food and made too much, but the requests kept coming anyway. It seemed like some of the girls were even ready to fight over who he'd make dinner for first or something. So, remembering how she'd defended him from a crowd before, he went to Najira.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," she told him first of all. "I'm sure everyone would be happy to get to taste your cooking, but it's up to you if you ever want to do it again."
Kale thought about it and said, "Look, I don't mind making supper. But I don't wanna make someone angry 'cause I went to someone else's house instead of theirs, y'know?" From this, Najira got an idea.

The community center didn't exist at this point, but Najira's house is a little bigger than everyone else's. Her dining room is large enough that it can seat about as many people as were on the island at that time. She suggested that Kale just make supper for everyone—just this once, and never again if he didn't want to—using her kitchen, and then they could all eat together in her dining room. She offered to help with the cooking, and find some more volunteers to do the same if he wanted them. Kale thought about this offer, then shrugged and said "Sure, okay." To feed that many people, he needed three helpers, and the girls who'd been living with him and benefitting from his cooking so far were quick to take up the two empty positions. Well—he needed three 'half-competent' helpers, he clarified, and said if they started burning or cutting themselves or screwing things up, they'd have to go find someone else to take over for them.

While Kale worked with Najira and his housemates to make that night's supper, he noticed his shirt steadily shrinking. It lost its sleeves, pulled itself up off of his stomach to show his slim, flat midriff, dipped its collar down to expose his neckline. He was too busy cooking to really worry about some strangeness with his clothes; he just had to be careful not to spill anything hot on the increasing amount of exposed skin. His shorts also decided to get shorter, and the underwear he had under them pulled tighter—but not quite enough to be too uncomfortable. By the time they were serving the meal, Kale's shirt had been reduced to something like a very short crop top.

Since he'd done all the real work of cooking, Kale was invited to take a seat while some of the girls served the food. He dug in, feeling ravenously hungry after all of that work, and...well, at this point in her account, Kate said, "I was actually happy for the first time I could remember. Prolly not the first time in my life, but in a really, really long time." She isn't prone to saying things like that, and quickly brushed it off to go back to her usual way of speaking, which only makes me feel like it was all the more genuine. Kale basically didn't care anymore what kind of bizarre situation he was in, as long as things could continue to be like this—delicious food, a home of his own, people being generally nice to him.

Of course, he expected by now that another meal meant another step in his transformation. This was confirmed when he found himself wriggling back and forth in his seat, feeling an odd discomfort. It turned out this was his hips spreading themselves wider, and his shorts and underwear pulling tighter as a result—and maybe they were also shrinking. This pushed at his manhood, which in turn seemed to actually give way and shrink to help ease the discomfort. Kale slowly realized that all of this was happening as he continued to eat, but it came to a point where he couldn't focus anymore because of it, and quickly hopped down onto his feet and excused himself to go to the bathroom.

No sooner was the door shut behind him than Kale felt it happening: A gentle, almost pathetically weak tug between his legs took away the last of what was there and his time as a man on this island came to an end. Slowly walking up to the mirror in the bathroom, she found that her top had also shrunk again while she wasn't paying attention, becoming a positively tiny string bikini with only two little triangles of cloth to cover her flat chest. Well—it wasn't flat for very long; Kate told me she felt one little push almost as soon as her eyes focused on her own chest in the mirror, and in an instant two small but easily visible breasts puffed out into view, completing her change. Speaking of eyes—Kate looked up at her face at this point and noticed that the deep blue color they'd had before had brigthened into a very light, almost glowing shade instead. (This is my own description here, she just sort of nonchalantly mentioned that this is when she noticed they were different.)

She took a deep breath, then went back out to the table. Everyone could see right away that she was a girl now—the tight shorts holding flat between her legs and her clearly-visible breasts didn't lie. Someone asked, "Wow, you finished changing already?" and Kate said "Yep." This resulted in an eruption of people saying how cute and pretty she looked, which she admitted to me felt "pretty great to hear".

We don't have a picture of how she looked as a guy (Kate would probably say 'good riddance' or something like that), but Saya took her picture in that initial round of photos. Kate was busy eating a popsicle at the time, and gave her permission to have the picture taken with a shrug and an "Mmph," not even bothering to take it out of her mouth. I have to say, she really is one of the cutest girls on the island; the ears and tail bring it together in a way I wouldn't have thought furry parts would. I suppose this is true for basically everyone on the island, but I think Kate must also have a positively ridiculous metabolism; she eats snacks fairly often and downs huge portions at mealtime, but her figure hasn't changed a bit since that photo.

Kate still pretty much works as our town chef—not every day, just whenever she feels like it, which isn't too infrequent. In fact, the way I met her was this: Everyone was invited to the community center for a big breakfast this morning, and Kate was the one who'd decided to make it and organized people to help her do so. And I'm happy to say, it was delicious. While I was thanking her for the food, I explained a little about my project and asked if she had time for an interview. We conducted it right there in the cafeteria, sitting at the table across from each other. For the record, she does tie her hair back and use a hairnet (plus some custom-made "earnets") while cooking. She's even threatened to have a "tailnet" made if anyone complains of fur in their food, which nobody has.

At the end, I asked her how she felt about being a girl, and..maybe you can guess: She shrugged. "Beats the heck out of what I was before," she said. "Listen: I was a homeless guy, basically human trash to everyone else around me—and pretty much treated like it too. Here, everyone acts like I actually matter. I get food and shelter, and I have an easy 'job' cooking for everyone sometimes—you know, whenever I feel like it. I could be a snail and still be happy if that stuff happened to me. But, yeah, being a cute girl is pretty great all on its own, too."

Well, it's hard to argue with an answer like that. A part of me wonders if she's happy being female just because it's part of a package along with acceptance, food, and everything else...but it sure didn't sound like it.

A Summoning, Part XXXVI

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---

Part XXXVI
~Lovers~

The goddess and two other girls sat around a small table, eating quietly for a little while. "Soo, how is it?" Zotha asked their guest.
"Mmh." Stella paused to swallow some food. "It's quite delicious! I must say, I did not think you meant you would literally create the food. As I understand, gods can create many things within their own realms, and even outside of them—but I don't know of any others who use that to make meals."
"That's a shame. There's no better way to become friendlier with someone than over a meal," Zotha said. "At least—if you don't already dislike each other. Maybe if I ever get all the other gods 'on my side', I'll host a big potluck!"

"Pffheheh..that's certainly something to picture!" Stella said.

After their guest was fed, excused herself, and left, Zotha made one of the doors go to their dorm room, and led her little priestess through it. She didn't need to read Jess's mind to tell she wasn't in the best of spirits. "You're still worried about the rebirth program, hmn?"

"I—yes. I admit, if it were me, I'd never agree to something that risky. That's—that's not to say I think your decision was wrong, Master, or that I ever thought I could make it for you! It's just...as, uh.." She blushed. "A-as someone who's come to really, care about you...I just hope it doesn't turn out to be a mistake."

"Awwh...you're sweet." The goddess picked Jess up into a close hug, running a hand through her hair and exercising a little of her power to slip pieces of both of their clothes off one by one. "Even if you weren't before, and it's all my changing that's made you this way...I'm glad to have someone who cares about me as much as you do." She walked slowly toward their bed, listening to Jess's adorable little squeak as she noticed what was happening.

"A-ah..M-master..."

Zotha brought them both down to the bed, now that they were both in only lingerie, and held her little priestess nice and close, enjoying her small, soft, curvy body all over again. "I don't know if I could do this all on my own, you know that? Knowing there are people who believe in me, who support me—normal people, not big, powerful gods with their own agendas and machinations..that's what gives me confidence."

"Mmmmnh..."
"Heheh..you're not listening to me at all, are you?"

"O-of course I am! B-but this is still, pretty...distracting," Jess said softly, her voice trailing off as the goddess's fingers started tickling certain parts of her body.

"I was hoping to make you feel better," Zotha murmured, her lips next to Jess's ear. "You're awfully cute when you're 'distracted'."
"Eheheh..ah..aa~aahnnn~nnh..." The curvy little priestess squirmed, losing herself in some pleasure, and Zotha mentally urged her to help her along. Jess did just what she wanted, petting and rubbing her right back.

"Mmm~mnnh..."

---

Graham went to work again on Monday. There wasn't quite such an influx of people suddenly in need of entire new wardrobes, but there was still a trickle of people who she was especially equipped to help. She got home with plenty of time to make supper, then played her games for a little bit before going to watch someone stream for an hour or two into the night. Just watching and chatting was getting a little boring, so she got a book and read it off and on. She had plenty of attention span to spare, it seemed, and didn't have any real difficulty focusing on two or three things at once.

Tuesday was much the same at first; she hadn't had the job or the game console very long, but it was already starting to feel like a pleasant routine. The work of cooking was worth it to see the pleased look on her granddaughter's face, and it was wonderful having something they could do together, other than talk and watch TV. The streamer she'd been watching the night before wasn't on tonight, so she went looking for someone else—one of his friends, maybe. It looked like 'incuopkal22' was playing something she'd at least heard of before; the stream title said something about a 'surprise guest', so maybe that would be interesting.

"..yeah, still getting used to being super short. At least I'm not puking my brains out anymore, though...heheh." The host was a dark-haired girl with some obvious wolfish features: Fuzzy ears, sharp teeth, and occasionally a slim tail coming up into frame behind her. Graham sort of wondered why nobody seemed to be mentioning any of that...maybe people who didn't know magic existed just couldn't see those things somehow? It didn't feel right for her to point it out, anyway. The chat was instead busy being grossed out by what she'd just said.

"Oh, sorry, yeah—that's why I didn't wanna go into the symptoms in too much detail before. It's aah..it's, really unpleasant. You guys should all hope you don't have any of those genes. Aah, yeah, though—speaking of that. I told you guys last time at the Q and A that I couldn't really talk about Damon, yeah?"

The catgirl's ears perked up at a familiar name, and she leaned in toward the computer slightly.

"Well—look. The thing with this..condition, that I got is—it affects different people in different ways. When I came here to check on my man, I had no idea I'd get hit with it while I was here. In fact, I onlyl found out it even existed because, aah, he got hit with it before I did. And—way worse. Listen, what happened to Damon was horrible and..pretty traumatizing. I dunno all the medical details, but, he got hit so bad he literally didn't know who he was by the end of it. I've been trying to help him recover alongside his sister, and he's a lot better now, but still kinda far from a hundred percent. Look..."

She reached up and turned the webcam slightly, revealing another short wolf-girl who'd apparently been sitting just out of frame this whole time. "He~ey..." she smiled and waved at the camera. This person Graham recognized instantly.

"Aaah...I shouldn't say 'he', actually. Yyyeah."

The chat positively erupted with questions and reactions. Graham noticed a lot of people asking if this had something to do with a weird stream that showed up on Damon's channel 'last week'. Some people were asking the main host if she was sure whatever condition she'd been talking about wasn't infectious. The wolf-girl who wasn't Damon took charge: "Hey, hey—this isn't another Q and A stream, guys. We're here to actually play something! So aah..we'll get started first, and then we can talk and play at the same time, 'kay?"

Graham's heart was going a little fast, and her tail was flicking around rapidly behind her. Even though she'd only seen this girl one time before...she'd only felt something like this toward one other person in her entire life, and that was...Rachel's grandmother. But they really hadn't even met, not even now; the catgirl was merely seeing Damon for a second time, from effectively a vast distance away. Well, she didn't really want to intrude on this conversation that seemed to involve a lot of people who already knew each other. Maybe she'd wait and say hello after things settled down a little...and just watch until then.

---

Early Wednesday afternoon, Prama double-checked a message on her phone while getting ready to work at the potion shop. "Let's see...Zotha's message for La Lune is: 'I met with him yesterday. So just let me know when and how.'"

"Got it," Boreas said, nodding—not that she knew exactly what this was a response to. Prama wasn't exactly sure either, although she likely had a better guess. She deliberately put it out of her mind, however, deciding that prying into secret communication between the gods too much was bound to get someone in trouble.

"You could take a day or two off some time, you know? Been workin' pretty hard since we got started," the werewolf commented.
"I am addicted to learning. The more progress I see, the more I want more," she said.
"No reason to risk burnin' yourself out."
"Well, what about you? You ever take a day off?"
"Now and then," the werewolf alchemist shrugged. "Just kick back and relax 'round the house some."
"You don't like..go out see a movie or something?"
"Nah. Ain't been out in a while."

The bespectacled girl paused for a second, looking up at the taller woman. "You haven't been out in 'a while'. How long is 'a while,' exactly?"
"Mmh.." Boreas sort of nonchalantly shrugged. "Couple decades, give or take?"
"You've had to get groceries in all that time, for sure."
"Have 'em delivered. Trash picked up. Know folks I can call to come fix what breaks."
"So you mean to tell me, that you haven't been outside this building, in twenty years?!"

"I've been outside," Boreas clarified. "Just not beyond the reach of my territory."

"So you haven't left your property. In twenty, years."
"I saw the world already when I was younger. Not too interested in a second look. An' besides, I'm old," Boreas shrugged.
"You're young now, and the world has changed a lot in the past two literal decades! You should take a month off, maybe in the summer, go see some sights!"

"Hmmh. It's comfortable here," she said. "Folks depend on me."

"Surely there's no one who'll die if you don't make them a potion for a month. Or, at least, from what I can tell these things keep basically forever, so—just let people know and they can stock up!"

"S'pose I could, sure. This your way of sayin' you don't want to work over the summer?"

Prama sighed. "No, look, this isn't about me, it's about you. If you want to keep working over the summer, and have me keep working as your apprentice over that time, I'm sure I can find some way to teleport here from home or whatever. Tell my parents I've got a summer job and pretend to drive, maybe. But I'm astonished you haven't gone insane from sitting around here, in this same exact place with the exact same surroundings, by yourself, for twenty entire years."

"Well. No alchemist is totally sane in the first place," Boreas said. "We take on risks other folks don't, an awful lot—if you haven't noticed."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a customer at the door. The werewolf shrugged in a way that suggested she was done with this topic of conversation anyway, and went to greet them. Stopping near the door to the front counter, Prama picked up a faint growl from Boreas's throat.

But she said: "Welcome. Need somethin'?"
"Uhhh whoa whoa, hang on! Before you kick me out, I just—came to apologize. Yeah." Well, that was a familiar voice.

"Mmhmmn?" The alchemist's tone of voice didn't sound very charitable.

"Look, I know I screwed up the other day. I just, like—pffsshhww. Brain turns off when I see a really pretty face, you know?"
"Haven't had the experience m'self," Boreas interjected dryly.

"And I default to the dumbest lines, too...I-I mean, you know, my friends say some girls like that, but I shoulda noticed sooner you were like, actually mad. Soo, sorry. Really! If I can make it up to you somehow..?"
"Treat me with the proper respect, young pup—especially in my territory—and we'll get along fine," she said. "Now, do you need anything else?"

"I, uuhh...this? What's this do?"
"Turns your tongue different colors."
"Oh. This one?"
"Hair growth."
"R-really? Oh, cool, I've got a human uncle who could use a little help with that..uh, here!" He must've counted out exact change this time, since Boreas took the money.

"Thanks, see you."
"Oh, y-yeah? I kinda hope so. Uh—bye!" This abrupt farewell, and how quickly he left afterward, sounded like she'd given him a terrifying look.

She came back through after he left. "You know, you could just ban that guy for life," Prama said. "I mean, that was a pretty pathetic apology."
"I made a sale," the werewolf replied impassively, going to continue her work.

---

"Hey."
Thomas was sitting with Dai at lunch Wednesday.

"Hey. Hey." Currently in male form, he was trying to get her attention. "Hey."
"What." Some acid breath came out with the word.

"Hahah, dude! I'm just try'na ask what you're looking so stressed about?"
"I'm not stressed. Just trying to figure something out," the dragon-girl said.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"It's...rrrgh. Complicated."

"C'mon, it can't be that complex."
"It's weird."
"Can't possibly be weirder than our friend turning into a goddess," he countered.

Thomas sighed. "You remember the big rainstorm last week?"
"Uh-huh. We got a day off! I usually remember stuff like that," he said with a grin.
"I found someone..fighting a big demon. And helped him kill it. Or—unsummon it, whatever."
"Dude, seriously?! Where was I for this?!"
"I would guess, still sleeping in. Anyway, he was bleeding really bad, so I asked Zotha if she could heal him. He had like...wings, and a sword he could make appear or disappear at will. She fixed him, but he turned into a girl, too. Then she decided to call herself Stella."
"'Kaay..." He nodded. "So, we got eagle-people? Or is she like, some kinda angel person?"
"...The second one, I guess. Called celestials, apparently."

The dragon-girl paused to scarf down some more meat, and Dai patiently waited for her to swallow it and continue. No—actually, he used the opportunity to talk: "So you helped save the life of this angel-girl, huh? Is she cute?"
"...Yes, very." Thomas cleared her throat, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks. "But also, she was 'created' less than two weeks ago. That's just..how celestials work apparently, they're just like..made, as fully-formed adults with a bunch of skills and knowledge built in, and given some stupid dangerous job to do, and if they don't die trying to do that then they get to live however they want from then on."
"Dude. Gettin' some real-life lore up in here, huh?"

"Yyyyeah."

"Well, if she's an adult, then there's no problem, right? Just ask her out and she if she's interested!"

Thomas sighed. "That's the problem. I sort of did, without even realizing it.

"She doesn't..I think doesn't know I was a guy before. She thinks my name is Toma. And, Monday night, I took her out to eat at a steak place because the alternative was her only experiencing this cafeteria as some of her earliest food experiences."

"And because you wanted a steak, riiight?"
"..Yes. Anyway, neither of us called it a date, but now my brain's processing it like it was one anyway. But I don't think.." Thomas flushed. "I don't know if she has any idea how cute she really is. I'm pretty sure she has no idea how I feel, and now it's just..so...awkward."

"So ask her out again!" he said. "And this time, tell her it's a date."
She seriously considered this for a moment before stopping to lean forward and bury her face in her hands. "Uuugh. I don't know what I'm even doing. I mean, I'm stuck as a girl, here!"

"Zotha could totally turn you back in a couple weeks, tops," he said. "She's gotta be getting stronger all the time, right? Leveling up and stuff?"

"I don't think that's how being a deity works in the real world," the dragon-girl said. "In fact, I don't even know of any fictional worlds where it works like that."

"Hey, she said she gets stronger whenever someone's grateful to her, right? So she knows the route to power! And anyway, Zeke's always been the type to help people out, yeah?"

"I guess so."

"Anyway, if you're just taking her out to eat and telling her you think she's cute..what's to stop ya from doing that much, no matter what?"

"My crippling awkwardness when it comes to anything vaguely approaching romance."

"Hmmmh, yeah. I guess that would make it kinda tough. Well, if she's that cute, you've just gotta suck it up anyway, man! Otherwise some hot guy like me is gonna snap her up quick!" he said, pointing a thumb at his own chest.

"Rrrrrrrh..." Thomas growled somewhat loudly for a few seconds, leaning slowly forward toward him with her hands gripping the metal table almost hard enough to break it, before she stopped herself, letting go and snapping upright. "Uh...sorry. I'm, not really sure what just came over me."
"Well, you are a dragon, right? I bet somethin' in your instincts just heard that and was like 'no, mine!'."
"..That's terrifying. I don't want to think of anyone as my 'property', ever," Thomas said. "Maybe I should just...stay away from her. See if this...goes away."
"I bet you thirty dollars it won't," Dai said. "Seriously, just let her know how you feel, dude!"
"Mnnnngh." He was definitely trying to help, but...she really wasn't feeling any better about the whole situation by the end of the meal.

---

Onida pulled her car up into the driveway and got out, walked up to the front door, and went to get her keys out of her purse. She didn't quite get her hands on them before the door opened from the other side—thanks to Sam being there. "Hey, welcome back!" she said, grinning and wagging her tail cutely. Onida's tail had started wagging too, before the door was even open—she could actually smell the other werewolf through the door, it seemed.
"Oh..thanks." Sam moved out of the way so Onida could come inside, dropping off her things on the way. "Everything going okay around here?"
"Yeah! Sorry we weren't up for breakfast with you this morning, we played pretty late last night."

"That's all right," she said, reaching over to pet the top of the dark-haired wolf-girl's head a little. "How'd the stream go?"
"Mrr~rrfh," she barked cutely before responding, blushing from the gesture. Actually, Onida was blushing a little bit too. "About as well as we hoped. People were understandably shocked that something like that had happened to Damon too, but also generally supportive—especially after they heard about the amnesia and such. How was work for you?"

"Oh, you know...about the same. Few coworkers commenting about my height still, or how I 'dyed my hair'." Onida wasn't sure why she was just standing there instead of continuing the rest of the way into the living room—that is, not until Sam reached over with both hands and briefly rubbed her ears. "Ah—rrfh."
"H-heheh, sorry," she said nervously (with a little more of a blush than before). "It...seemed like you wanted that."
Onida tilted her head slightly. "I..suppose I did? I'm still, feeling out these instincts...

"Well, I should get supper started, then. You want to help?"

"I'd be happy to! I've, aah, just been pretty lazy all day so far. Lots of napping."

"I would say something about being jealous, but I'm really not," Onida said. "Ever since...this," (she pointed at one of her wolfish ears), "I seem to have more energy than I really know what to do with. Having something useful to do at work is helpful..I think I'd just get restless and start walking in circles, sitting around here."
"Hmmn. Being blessed by La Lune might've made you even wilder than most werewolves," Sam said. "It might be your instincts saying you wanna hunt for your pack or something, but since you know doing your job accomplishes the same thing, you feel satisfied?"
Onida shrugged. "Or maybe I just got physically younger, and have more energy and less patience from that. Not everything has to be because I'm part wolf."

"Heheh, I guess not..."

Damon, as usual, didn't need to be called down; she could smell the meat from all the way upstairs. She would've sleep-walked down to the kitchen if she was in a coma, Onida thought. But—she quickly had a slight mental recoil at the thought of her sister being in a coma...Damon had had more than enough trauma to work through lately without something like that.

Onida's sister made herself scarce again as soon as they were done eating; there was an hour and a half yet until Sam's usual stream time, when they were planning to have her on as a guest once more. But, until then...the dark-haired girl followed Onida into the living room and sat on the couch next to her, wagging her tail expectantly until her alpha gently picked her up into a hug and some gentle petting. The idea of...doing something like this, with both of them in werewolf form, still floated through Onida's mind, a significant part of her actually wanting it. But it was still just a little too embarrassing. Occupying a similar mental space was the idea of turning herself male, or asking Sam to do the same, so they could...

Well, there were a lot of things they could do in that case, but she definitely didn't want to go too fast. Sam didn't even know La Lune had given her a male form yet, after all. Maybe she'd have him kiss her just once...see how that felt. How both of them felt about it, first. But for tonight...cuddling like this was good enough.

---

Anika's classes on Wednesday were over a little before Steph's were, so she made her way to their room, going to sit on their bad and watch the door. She'd quit splitting the bed back into two pieces not long after their first night or hugging and petting; there was no point taking up so much extra floor space when they were just going to want it to be one bed again every night. Even if one of them wanted a nap, there was plenty of space. She'd just have to turn it back if someone came by to inspect the room, and when they moved out later on.

Her big, white, furry ears twitched and turned, hearing footsteps approach. It was funny—even though humans could certainly hear other people walking, Andrew had never particularly picked out any specific person's gait before gaining such strong hearing. Now she could easily identify Steph, currently in male form, as the person walking up. This was confirmed when a slight hint of his scent came through the cracks in the door, and when he got out his keys to open the door. The curvy kitsune soon found herself looking up at her roommate as he came in, a feeling she felt like she'd been pushing back against for over a week now welling up yet again.

"Uh..hey there," he said, shutting the door behind him. "Something up?"
"Uh, n-no." Anika hopped up off of the bed. "Just uh..hang on, could you...stay? Like that, for a little longer?"
"Like..you mean, as a guy?" Steph put down his backpack. "How come?"

She moved up close to him. Fighting this..was frustrating. It was ultimately pointless. It was making her a lot less happy than she really wanted to be. She was going to be stuck like this for a long time, probably, and during all that time, never even getting to...

"Um...yeah?" Anika was maybe half a pace in front of Steph and staring up into his face. Of course she was blushing, her single currently-visible tail slowly wagging behind her and her ears down in a friendly, horizontal position; she was somewhat relieved to see him blushing too, even if his ears and facial expression were mostly confusion/concern.
"I wah. I want...hmmh." She couldn't really bring herself to put it into words, and just did it instead, hopping up at him to hug him, holding herself around him high enough for their faces to be almost level.
"O-oh. You..want to hug? L-like this?" he said, carefully putting his arms around her and lifting her the last bit to get their heads to the same height.

"I..d-don't play dumb with me!" she said, some of her frustration boiling over at him. "Y-you know what I mean."
"Y-you want me to kiss you? With us like this?" She nodded, and started slowly leaning forward.

"Please. I cah..I can't..."
Steph leaned back away from her slightly, so she stopped. "Are you sure? I mean..is it really something you want? Not just, the curse keeping you that way, or your body doing something..?"
"Steph. I." Now, all of a sudden there were some tears coming down her cheeks. If Anika didn't feel like she was stuck being thoroughly girly before, this emotional outburst only added to that. "I love you!" she yelled. "I love you, and I don't care anymore! We can kiss with me as a guy a century later or whatever, when I finally earn that stupid fifth tail, but I'm tired of hanging around with you, you like that and me like this, and not even getting to enjoy it!"

She stopped yelling, sniffling and feeling some relief that she'd had the presence of mind to at least mute that outburst from being heard outside their room. Steph's expression was promising, a sort of surprised realization. "I..wow, I'm sorry. I thought we were cool, you know," he said, one of his hands reaching up to gently run through her hair. "I uh...you know, I feel the same way. I've, had the hots for you before you were even a fellow fox, you know? It's just—I never wanted to, to push you into..'being the girl', I guess, even if you were stuck as one? I'm willing to wait as long as I have to, if you don't want to do more than hug—was what I was thinking. But if you, really want..."
"Mmh." She nodded, and pulled closer again. This time Steph didn't pull back, leaning in to meet her halfway instead, and their lips touched.

As soon as it was started, Anika began pushing herself close, turning the kiss into an increasingly passionate one. And it was only an embrace and a kiss, but it was the most wonderful thing she'd felt in recent memory—maybe ever. Steph was holding her tight, returning her expression of affection and attraction note for note. A relief washed over her, making her feel like—she just didn't have to pretend anymore, to Steph and other people but especially to herself. She was still crying some, but they'd turned into happy tears. And—well, the first time she'd been a girl had come with a sampling of how girls could feel good, but she'd fought against it. She'd felt something like that once again each time she was holding tightly onto Steph in her true form with them petting each other. But none of those girly feelings compared to how he was making her feel right now.

They released with a loud smacking sound only once it became absolutely necessary to come up for air, and were both left gasping for it for a long moment. "Uh..hff...h-hey...you, done this before?" Steph said slowly through panting breaths.
"N-no, dummy! You know I've..haff..always been a complete loser before...fffh...before this happened to me! I've never...hff...even, been on a date before..you."

"H-heheh..I've at least never been on this end before, anyway," Steph said, his hand stroking through her hair once again. It had felt reassuring before, but now the exact same gesture—the same physical sensation—was making her shiver slightly with delight. "I teased a few boys back in high school, but..you know, nothing serious."

"This better not be a prank," she said with a non-serious frown. "You'll know the wrath of a four-tailed fox." It was probably..a very cute expression. She didn't mind being cute, just for him.
"I know better than that," Steph said, and then went in for a second kiss.

She returned it, of course, and with just as much passion as the first one. And it was every bit as enjoyable as that one—if not even more so! But, around halfway through, Steph let out a soft "Mmf" sound in his throat, and started to shrink and shift toward his true, feminine form. She didn't let him out of the kiss easily, even ramping up the passion briefly as she heard his voice in his throat steadily changing to that of his girl form's, and let go only when he was hanging on to manhood by a thread.

"Ah, aaa~aa~aAAAA~Aaaah...!" Steph cried out as his sex changed and she rapidly resumed her true form—including all her tails coming out into full view—squirming in Anika's arms as their heights came to match and she very obviously felt a wave of pleasure similar to what she'd just treated the other fox to. "Aa~ah...hff, ffh..c-couldn't, concentrate on the..k-keeping my, ffh.." she half-explained between gasping for breath. "S-sorry!" Despite the apology, she had the hugest grin on her face.

"T-that's okay.." Anika stroked the other girl's hair the same way Steph had hers a moment ago, and enjoyed Steph shivering a little bit in response. "I got what I wanted. W-we both know how we feel, and..it's a huge relief, knowing I can kiss you whenever I want from now on." She said this last part with a mischievous grin.

Steph's blush didn't get any dimmer. "Ah, uh...h-heheh. N-now who ever s-said that?"
"I know you'll let me," Anika said, rubbing the three-tailed kitsune's ears, and letting the rest of her own tails free to curl forward and wrap around Steph's. "Just like how we let each other pet when we want, right?"
"O-oh, alright. G-guess you've got me...rr~rfh.."

Satisfied for the moment—as far as kissing went, not petting—Anika gently guided her roommate over to their bed and lay down on it with her, on their sides and holding onto each other as tightly as ever. She certainly enjoyed Steph's cute murring and affectionate petting even more than ever before, and she was fairly sure that the other girl's appreciation had been similarly enhanced. It had to have felt pretty good, getting kissed by a soft, adorable, gorgeous, curvy woman like her...

Someday, Anika thought...she was going to make Steph return the favor. But for now...this was good enough.

Vixen Society - Cycle 11

Vixen Society

---

  Beginning / Before / After / Last

---

Cycle 11

The plan went off without a single hitch. A little while after Olivia let the people over her know in the normal way that she was leaving the job, and 'Oliver' had gone out of sight, she produced an illusion of blaring alarms and periodically flashing lights all throughout the building, prompting its occupants to groan and grumble about what appeared to be a perfectly mundane fire drill—after all, they couldn't see or smell any actual fire. All the same, they shuffled outside in an orderly fashion, and Olivia came near to where they were congregated to find Angus already waiting a short distance off. She waved him over, hiding him from sight, sound and smell just like she was herself, and began the show.

There was confusion at first, of course—maybe even a little bit of panic that they were experiencing some kind of strange mass hysteria. But everyone stuck around to watch the silent fireworks in the illusory night sky, going from murmurs to polite clapping to cheers. By the halfway point or so of the show, it no longer mattered that they were caught in a surreal, impossible situation, and they just rolled with it and enjoyed it. The Kitsune gave the last few fireworks some particular shapes, like a winking fox face and a heart, and ended it with one last big burst before dismissing the false darkness above them, making sure to do so slowly so that the brightness of the actual afternoon sky wouldn't blind them all.

She took in a deep breath, still sitting on the concrete next to Angus. "..Phew. That took a little effort, I guess."
"You put on a pretty fine show, Olivia," he said. "Seems like they liked it, even if they can't understand just what happened to 'em. Eeeheheh!" Everyone was back to being extremely confused, talking amongst each other to confirm they had all really experienced the same thing. But it was definitely a happy confusion. "You gonna let 'em know it was you?"

"Hmmnn...nah." The fox-girl hopped up onto her feet. "I don't think I need to. It's not important that I get 'credit' or whatever, but that everyone had fun..me included. I'm just happy I pulled a big trick like that off at all." She offered him a hand and helped him up onto his feet too.

The old man tilted his head at her just slightly. "You okay there, or 's that a special effect you're doin' on purpose?"
"Huh?"
"You're glowin'," he said, pointing; looking down, she found that this was true.

There was a faint, reddish glow coming over her, and once she noticed it she wondered how she hadn't before. Because—it was more than just a glow, it was a warmth, a coalescing of something. It was more than happiness and pride, and it was more than power—but it certainly included those components. "Hmn...ah. I feel like...I get it," she said softly, smiling. The glow brightened, pushing itself up and out into a fire-like blaze around her, then swirled back behind her to take on the shape of not one, not two, but three tails—none of them tangible for the moment, yet all of them moving around with the four real ones as if they'd been there all along. It was..like a realization, an epiphany—something the Kitsune wasn't sure how to put into words.

One of the tails lost its glow, becoming real. "Mm-mmn~nnh.." Olivia's gut pulled in, losing its last bit of fat, and the muscle tone she already had all across her body enhanced itself a little more. "Ah..w-wow..." The second tail did the same thing, and she felt the burst of power strengthening her..but, at the same time, pushing her breasts out just a little bit bigger. She felt warm, and there was a trace of the nice, fuzzy feeling that had appeared between her legs when she'd first become female. "Aa~aah..!"

She gasped, then let out a slow, relieved breath. "Hfffffh..." The third tail came into being too—or, more accurately, her seventh. Olivia felt complete now, somehow—like she'd attained a goal she'd been reaching for the past few weeks, or maybe even her entire life. Even though there were two more tails to earn...it felt like she was now fully aware of the potential the vixen society had promised she had the very first time the spoke with her, and now knew that it had been fulfilled. The rest...would come eventually, and there was no need to rush them.

"Well, I'll be," Angus said. "That was a pretty impressive bit of fireworks there too, eh?"

"H-hmhm.." She was smiling, and blushing a little bit still. "I suppose so. Just for you and me to see, though." Olivia turned her head around to re-count them, a small part of her still sort of doubting this was real. "Seven tails, huh..? I feel like if I'd known this was possible before, I would've reached for it way earlier. Still...I don't really have any regrets."

"How you keep those from tanglin' into each other?" Angus asked.

She shrugged. "They just sorta..do what they do on instinct. I could certainly hide as many as I like, if they ever got inconvenient. Say..you don't really have anywhere to sleep, right?"
"Nothin' but the homeless shelter, or th'street."
"You could crash at my place tonight if you want..you know, as thanks for giving me the idea for this prank? That is...if don't mind showering. My nose is, more sensitive than human ones..."
"I get the hint," Angus said. "I don't mind getting' clean, just don't get the opportunity too often."
"Sure," she nodded, and started leading the way. "Let's go, then...I've got a new job to get to tomorrow."

---

Troy had settled on her target by a little over halfway into the session. Dennis—usually called Den for short—was slightly on the short side (for a guy, so just about her height), dark haired, not particularly fat or fit. She'd always kind of liked him, as a friend at least, and now she thought he was the one who blushed at her the cutest when she teased him. He seemed to have only asked Carter out earlier out of some sense of obligation, because all the other guys seemed to be doing it—and almost appeared relieved when she said no. She also know that he, like her, didn't have work the next day.

When it was time to wrap up and everyone was getting ready to leave, the voluptuous wolf-girl made her move. "Hey, Den, you mind helping me clean things up a little?" she smiled and wagged innocently, watching him blush adorably in response to her mere proximity.
"Uh, s-sure—I mean, not at all," he said with a nervous shrug. "Sorry about spilling my coke earlier.."
"Heheh, that's no big deal. The tablecloth's washable for a reason," she said. "Anyway, I'm glad you got into it that much." The incident in question had happened when his orcish barbarian was loudly demanding more beer at a tavern. "Always makes things more fun!"

Everyone else was gone by the time they finished cleaning up, of course. It was nearly midnight. "Hey, how long's your drive, anyway?" she said. "You just wanna crash here for the night?"
"Uhh.." Dennis flushed immediately at the suggestion. "I-I mean, it is a little far, but..you sure that'd be okay? I meeaan..."
"What, 'cause I'm a girl now doesn't mean I can be a good host?" she said, acting mock-insulted. "It's a big house, I've got a couch. Anyway~, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to share the comfy bed with me."

"Uhhhh."

"Pffehehe! Oh man, you should see the look on your face!"

"O-oh..uh...that was a joke. You were joking," he said, still somewhat nervously.

"Well, mostly," the wolf-girl said, putting up her arms. "I mean, we haven't even been on a first date or anything, soo, a little early to sleep together, right?"

"Uh, yeah.

"But yoouu...are you attracted to guys now? I mean.."

"Pretty sure I am. What, you didn't notice me flirting with everyone but Carter all night?" Troy said.
"I just can't tell how serious you are," he said. "Like, I know you're teasing everyone, and you're obviously super happy to have a uh, tail and stuff..."

"I guess none of it was all that serious," she said, shrugging. It was a little hard for her to tell the difference herself. "I'm definitely happy with my body now, for sure, annd..just doing what I like!" She reached across to ruffle his hair some—not so fast that he couldn't pull back if he didn't want it. He stayed still, blushing and nervously fidgeting.

"Buut...all that aside, there is still one way I could let you sleep more comfortably than on that couch. Maybe. I have an idea, at least, if you're willing to help me try it out?"

"Uhm...what kind of idea?" Dennis said cautiously. She could sense that he was just as nervous as he was eager about the idea of sharing a bed with a hot girl like her, even if they wouldn't be doing anything more than lying there and sleeping.

"Well, you know—I got to look this way 'cause Carter cursed me."
"Uh-huh..not a very good curse, if you're this happy with it," he said.

"Right? And I think I might be able to spread it..you know, temporarily. Sooo.."

Troy ruffled Den's hair again, enjoying his blush. "Maybe I can just make you a dog-girl for the night, and we can share my bed? It's big enough for two people for sure, and if we're both girls then there's no problem. Annd then, turn you back in the morning?"
"Uh.." Dennis was trying to form an objection, but her appearance, her friendly hair-ruffling, and the thoughts her suggestions were putting into his head all clearly made it much more difficult than usual for him to think straight. "Y-you think you can just, 'share' your curse? And take it back too!? Where do you..I mean, that is not how curses..work?"

"We don't know how curses work in the real world, right?" she said. "Anyway, it sure feels like I can do that. Won't know unless I try!"

"Wha-what if the first part works, but not the second? And I'm stuck..you know..th-that way?" he said with a vague gesture in her direction. It didn't seem like he'd entirely accepted that she could do it, but rather his rational brain was scrambling to find an excuse to push back against the part of him that wanted to at least try just as much as she did.

"Worst case, Carter made the curse, so I'm sure miss blond and foxy can undo it herself," she said. "Anyway, I'm sure there's magic dispelling stuff on the internet by now! I'll buy whatever I have to, with my own money, to fix it if something goes wrong. How's that?" She grinned across at him, crossing her arms and wagging her tail victoriously.

"Y-you..just want to see if it'll work, don't you," he said, sort of half-realizing. "I-I guess..with all of that, I'd be willing to help you t-test it out."

"Awesome!"

---

"I just don't get it...how'd they do it...?" Miles sat on a chair in his dorm room, reaching his hand across to the pure-white cat on his bed to gently stroke her fur. She didn't have an answer for him, only a purr, but it was reassurance enough. He sighed. "I'm sure she saw me today, too...prob'ly think I'm some kinda creep or something..."

Miles had never been particularly great at making friends. Actually, he'd been too good at making enemies back in high school. He was a little on the tall, skinny side build-wise, with some bad scars on his face from an incident where he crossed the wrong person back then. The guy who did it got jail, and Miles had only been briefly suspended for picking a fight in the first place. Actually, he hadn't even experienced the suspension since it was over by the time he got out of the hospital.

Maybe it had always been his face, even before—the way his expressions tended to look—that made everyone think he was out looking for a fight or something. It didn't help that he had a temper problem, which...he was, admittedly, still working on. It felt like everyone saw him and they were intimidated or enraged first thing—their inclination not toward making friends with him. He did have a few friends, or at least non-hostile acquaintances, by now—a few weeks into his second year of college—but it was still so easy for even them to take something he said or did the wrong way, and then it was a struggle to convince them he hadn't meant it like that.

Was he just bad at communicating? Or was it his looks? There was no reason it couldn't be both. While he was musing, his cat mewed to demand more petting, and he obliged. She was just about the only creature he could always get along with. "Gawh...wish I could just be cute like them. 'R like you," he said. "Yees, you're a pretty kitty, Beth. One less thing making people instantly hate me...it'd be real nice, yeah.

"…Guess I should just ask how it happened...but I dunno. If they think I'm a creep now, how do I even, like..." He sighed. "Augh, I am such a moron."

---

hey uh

i thought you said each tail from here was supposed to be hard?

Well, gee, for most of us they are...
You grew more than one?!

Olivia grinned.

yeah, three

but i got the feeling these are the last ones for a long while

not that i mind, this is pretty sweet.

Congratulations!
Totally not jealous over here...

We should meet up sometime so you can promote me!

You're gonna have to earn that first (another of them said to that one)

i'd actually love to meet you all some time, you know

thank you in person?

could be fun

later tho

Yeah, we can figure that out later...

Anyway, enjoy having seven freakin' tails at under a century old!

Angus insisted on leaving the following morning, saying that he didn't want to impose on anyone's space and he was sure he'd wear out his welcome pretty soon anyhow. Olivia couldn't suppress feeling a bit of disappointment that her new partner-in-crime wasn't sticking around, but she couldn't blame him, either. After all, her apartment was pretty tiny, and with his inability to get a job, he wouldn't be able to contribute to the rent or food bills if he stuck around long-term. She would've let him stay if he wanted, but she wasn't going to try and trap him somewhere he didn't want to be, either. But—if only she lived somewhere bigger, with two bedrooms and two beds at least.

Maybe she could convert his clothes into some actual nice ones, and that would help convince someone he deserved a chance, sort of like at the restaurant from before. She didn't actually offer to alter his clothes, however, because she felt a certain confidence that he'd decline. What use was a set of new duds if he didn't earn it himself?—he might say. But there was still that lingering disappointment.

If she wasn't so deep in debt, her new salary would afford the rent for a new place...but it was going to be a few years, probably, before she was far enough out of that hole to even consider moving. Olivia didn't mind working her way out of it, she just didn't like it putting other things she wanted on hold for so long.

She shook off the disappointment and concerns as she came in for the first day of her new job. Jim was good for his word, handing her a contract to sign and then starting to train her in the ways of...training, himself. She chuckled to herself around the middle of the day when she realized that the boss of the Gym was named Jim, and wondered why she hadn't realized that before. But then—she'd been too worried about him chewing her out before. What a silly thing to care about...

The week practically flew by, and it was Friday—she had Saturday off this week. She'd more or less moved away from looking to the society of vixens for advice, and over to using it sort of like a chatroom of old friends; she was starting to get a good sense for the personality of everyone there. Well, all but one particular 'voice', that was. The 'seventh', the one who'd spoken to Oliver only after all of the other ones had, seemed to be particularly silent most of the time. She didn't feel too inclined to pry—maybe whoever that was had left the group after not very long or was a terribly busy, important person of some sort—but there was a little bit of curiosity there.

Well, no sooner did Olivia walk into her apartment Friday afternoon than that seventh voice took the initiative to contact her themselves, pinging a notification on her phone from the app.

The message was a little mysterious, and maybe slightly accusatory: You are unsatisfied with your present den.

uh

you mean my apartment?

Olivia shrugged to herself. yeah it kinda sucks but i'll deal

Check your mail.

"Oh, uh...?" She'd gotten well out of the habit of looking at her mail too often—because it was usually bills, debt collectors, and spam. But since whoever it was was asking, Olivia was at the very least curious what this was about. She went out and found her mailbox predictably stuffed with junk, and sifted through it, going so far as to hold up the spam in her left hand and light it on fire via magic, enjoying watching it burn away to ash. But there was one letter she didn't recognize at all, from some kind of lawyer or something, so she kept that one along with several others that actually looked halfway important.

It looked very official, and was also rather confusing. The piece of mail made the claim that an uncle of Olivia's had died and left her some ambiguous property—she couldn't really understand all of the legalese. But the thing was—she definitely didn't have a dead uncle, because she didn't have any aunts or uncles, period. This...had to be what that voice was talking about, right? There was nothing else quite so unusual in the mail.

so

like

i...inherited something?

No one actually died, the voice informed her helpfully. Consider it a gift in celebration of your seventh.

I have far too many properties to maintain anyway. You'll be doing me a favor, taking it off of my hands.

However, you will require some assistance with its upkeep.

Re-reading the legal letter again with this..helpful insight, it slowly dawned on Olivia exactly what was being implied here—what was, apparently, actually happening. Her ears folded back with shock as she held the piece of paper out in front of her in one hand and the phone in the other, then dropped the former to lean in over the phone and quickly type a reply.

youre giving me a house?!?!!?

---

Vincent met up with Luca in the parking lot—him male and part-cat, her still the same fox-girl as she'd become the night before, but hiding all but one of her tails around the office for convenience's sake. "Uh, hi!"
"Hey, kitten~." She ruffled his hair, especially the ears, drawing a startled-yet-pleased purr from him. "How'd work go with the furry bits?"
"Uhh, funny you should mention 'furry'," he said. "Everyone at the office was all over me, like, every single person had to pull something at least once to check they were real. And one guy, who sits like right next to me, is a huge furry, and kinda begged me to introduce him to whoever 'got me these ears' so he could get some too or something."

"So, what'd you tell him?"

"Uh, I said I'd ask?" Luca said. "I'm sure it'd make him super happy to have some kinda animal ears or something."

"Well, I don't mind," she said, shrugging. "Giving or taking those things is as easy as snapping my fingers."

"So so, what about you? I mean—not only furry, but being a girl?"

"People definitely noticed," Vincent said, "but I work with professionals. Once everyone knew I'd become a fox-girl, it was business as usual."

"Awwh, I'm a little jealous. I mean—of not having your ears or tail pulled," he said. "Really, not even one person tried?"
"Ohh...one guy tried, but he just couldn't manage to get a grip on my tail," she said with a vicious grin. "It kept vanishing just when his fingers were about to close on it. He was really confused and frustrated by the time he gave up and left me alone. But that was in the mail room, so—not one of my immediate coworkers."

The two of them had made it to Vincent's car by this point—the one they'd both taken to work. She stopped, turned and hopped up in front of Luca to pull herself around him and deliver a surprise kiss. "Mmfph!" He was so surprised that he stumbled back a step and almost bit his tongue, but his feline tail kept him balanced just long enough to recover and start returning the hug, curling that tail forward to wrap around hers. "M-mrr~rrh..."
Maybe a few minutes later, their mouths alone disengaged. "I want more of that," Vincent said with a big, predatory grin. "And more petting." She stroked a hand down through his hair. "Looks like you're stuck with me."
"Eheheheh," the catboy softly, breathlessly giggled. "Um, no-not such a bad way to get stuck."

"Mm." She pushed herself into another, much briefer kiss, then pulled out again with a loud smack. "Let's go eat, and talk..living arrangements, hmn?" she said, teasing one of his ears with a finger.

"Uh..s-sure." Vincent slipped out of the embrace as easily as she'd pulled him into it, going over to the driver's side of the car.