Changing Island: Entry 11

 First / Previous / Next / Latest

---

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.