The island

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My name is Jack Marrow, please I've heard all the Jack Sparrow jokes to last two lifetimes, male age 22 or I was we are not entirely sure which side of the fence I currently fall on.

I had been flying a single prop airplane back to be serviced at the hanger I work at, it was due for regular service, something I did quite often. You see I'm a licensed mechanic certified for non passenger low altitude flight. What does that mean? Simple I have to fly low which in most cases is below radar level and never with passengers.

That kind of limited my ability to work flying planes which I loved so I learned to fix them. The plane in question was doing ok till one of the control lines to the rear ailerons snapped sending the plane and I to do a sudden nose dive into the ocean I just happened to be flying over.

I had flown over a small island with a number of trees and plants but no other life. One of those picture perfect islands people love in movies, this one was out of the way in disputed waters. This meant nobody controlled it and it could not be purchased. I suspect in days long past it had been used as a stop point for something as there was a small wooden shack on the island with a rather amusing outhouse. Talk about plumbing! Sea water washed out the pit regularly that was under the outhouse on a large rock. Don't ask me what they used to bore the hold through the rock I have no idea even after all the time I ended up spending there.

I had dragged myself and the emergency repair kit from plane onto the island which didn't really boast anything you could call a beach more like a conveniently polished rockface that's a royal pain to grab hold of in water. The edge is rock of some sort that at high tide is about 10 feet over the water... low tide is alot lower. My leather jacket stayed with me, the inflatable rubber raft that had been constantly losing air went down before I even got ontop of that island. I'm still not sure what happened to my pants though so don't ask.

That first week I survived on rainwater that collected in a nicely hollowed out rock not far from the outhouse. The main cabin was single room, no bed no radio just more a slanted roof over 4 rock walls that had been cemented together. I work with planes but house building is not my strong suit. It had a very unusual smell though. I found out this is due the mixed fauna that surrounds the cabin. The one window is curved glass which may have come from some boat or plane decades ago. I repaired the door and removed the fronds and junk. Very domestic in a sense.

Emergency protein rations may last for years in there sealed container but sawdust has more taste. They lasted about a week into my stay which I hoped wouldn't last long. I guess now that the plane I was flying also had a compass problem since I was no where near the flightpath I had filed. Flares are good and dandy if you have a flare gun for them. The gun in the kit was rusted solid. Without any tools to fix it I was stuck with rather useless flares that wouldn't light up.

Dried vegetible leaves and broken branches from the few trees were my supplies I gathered a supply of about 6 months worth. I had no matches or a lighter. I was able to twist my necklace around a bit of broken glass from I think a cup not sure and if you held it over the dried fronds for half a day you could just get the fronds warmed enough to light up. I made myself a small fire that I kept going with the slow burning branches. Not much for smoke though. The island was to small, in the middle of ocean which isnt that warm to begin with and plenty of wind. So the fire was a good thing.

I used my torn tshirt as a sort of skirt since i had nothing else my jacket served to kept the top of me warm enough. I found a chipped rock that served well enough as a rough knife. To pass the time I read the laughable emergency handbook which had lots of good ideas for keeping oneself alive. It took me 3 days after my food ran out and a bit of self poisoning from wrong plants before I found what was to be my diet for the next couple of months. I found a soybean patch which was a protein kinda tastes like crap though, and 2 other roots that were edible. Gods Joke, which is what I named the only mango tree on the island, and I never want to see one again btw, produced like 2 mangos a month. I used these for making fruit juice heavily watered down of course.

My cabin had one small metal pot and a metal jug, age unknown. The jug could have been a bomb casing for all I knew but it held my juice. The pot had no handle but with some water softened the roots up to make them edible and mixed with same roots raw crushed up and soybean served as my meals.

That first month was not very nice for me, I found that my diet was doing interesting things, Pamlela Handerson and I became very good companions then it tapered out. I found myself not having to shave at all since my facial hair just stopped growing then became thinner and alot less noticable. In other words it pretty much disappeared not sure why.

My skin became softer and softer and way more sensitive. It was about 3 months or so of my isolation on the island that my chest started to itch a bit and become puffy. It became rather annoying so I used my rock knife to cut up the sleeve of my leather jacket and wrapped up my chest with it. In hidesite I guess you could say I made a leather bra. I had no mirror to see any other changes and water with ripples across it make a horrible mirror to look at.

weeks dragged by with my chest becoming bigger and bigger. At about 5 months I finnaly realized that there were breasts. Im not that dense. I only had my one edible meal so I had little choice. I prayed for rescue daily and cried not just a little I blamed the hormones from diet.

Im not sure exactly when it happened as I didn't notice by my once proud manhood and testicles just kinda shrank. My scrotum sack was just an empty piece of skin and my penis became a small nub only useful for peeing. The hair on my head became softer and longer which at first I tried to trim with my knife. That was a bad idea ponytails are way easier.

I pass my days whittling wood or using plant smears to paint on the one wall of the cabin. I made myself a wooden knife spoon and fork. I was well on my way to making a chair during the 14th month I was there when I heard a helicopter. Now that is a very unigue sound. It was the coast guard they had finnaly found me.

They for some reason kept refering to me as Maam or miss and they called me Jackie even though I said my name was Jack quite clearly. Seems the only reason they found me was because of a thermal scan while out on deep sea rescue training.

My return to civilization was at best uncomfortable. They lumped me with a group of women who made me wear panties and bras as underwear. The only clothes that fit my frame were a combination of womens dress uniforms. I was too tall for their pants. This sucked but after months of a torn tshirt well oh heck I was happy to be warm and fed on this little boat that had no medical doctor just a nurse. Doctor was on his vacation so it took us about a week to reach shore. I was made more *respectable* looking by the women who treated me as one of their own. The blouse and skirt I ended up wearing all the time didn't help matters. My footwear was slippers and nobody had any footwear that would fit.

Now don't get me wrong. I know that half of the worlds sex is of the fairer sex but honestly the talk drove me up the wall. I was starved for human contact so I listened without comment on many a manner of stuff I didn't want to know. Girls night was less than thrilling. Facial waxes and creams and all manner of feminine beauty secrets they finnaly presented me to the captain of the ship who seemed to go out of his way to treat me with kid gloves. So did the rest of the guys. It was so strange, mind you so was the drop dead gorgeous bleached blond in the mirror. Yes I found myself very attractive. Hey I am a guy.. or I was.

We had made shore about a week after my rescue and after many thankfuls I was released into medicare. They like everyone else assumed I was female from the first time they met me. It took me awhile to convince the doctors who I was at which time I became a pin cushion for many needle tests. I was put into really noisy machines more than once.

At the end of two weeks of testing the doctor sat me down and gave me the results. I had suffered from heavy metal poisoning while on that island with totally destroyed my testicles and my diet was apparently almost all herbal estrogens hence the female body. I did not go unscathed either, my kidneys, liver, appendix all suffered some damage and I was ordered to follow a very strict diet for the next year along with being tied up to a dialysis machine.

The good news was that I would recover the bad was that my ordeal left me with little choice but to live as a woman for the rest of my life. He thought it was a good idea to schedule me for reassignment surgery but I told him no.

The day my parents came to see me in hospital bed was not the best. My macho idiot of a father disowned me on the spot. My mother however laid into him and he relented somewhat. Secretly my mother was thrilled to now have a daughter to pass on all her womanly advise to. I was to live with them since after 3 months my idiot landlord had foreclosed on my apartment and gave away everything I owned to goodwill. My job was history.

My mother legally changed my name to read as Jacqueline Teresa Marrow despite my protests to try to remain as male as possible. She would not hear of it. Months passed and with mother constantly treating me as her daughter I was sort of getting used to the idea. Dad was slowly coming around to realizing I was his daughter. We were out shopping one day where mom was trying to get me to wear dresses and dad was intently investigate the paint on the walls, I wish I could have joined him seriously, I encountered a situation that changed everything. Two guys whistled at me.

Dad woke up and looked intently at me then realized he now had a very attractive daughter that he had to protect. I felt ill over it but had to live with it. I had hoped that things may return to normal for me but after everything I had been through the doctors told me in no uncertian terms I was now allergic to synthetic testosterone. Worse they found I had a small but sorta functional ovary that was producing estrogen. Again they tried to talk me into reassignment surgery but I refused.

I eventually found work as, of all things, a waitress at a restaurant. It was a large comedown from my proud mechanical history. Everyone saw and treated me as a woman and wouldn't let me get my pretty little hands dirty in engines. 8 hours a day in a knee length black skirt white blouse that attracted any food stains and pointy flat shoes was my lot. I met alot of regulars one in point was John Mcparrow. He was a associate at a minor law firm working on his bar. He continually kept trying to pick me up with some truly lame lines. Persistent though Ill give him that.

After 4 months of trying to woo me I though he gave up but I was wrong, he wooed my mother and father instead so I got forced into wearing a little black dress to a fancy restaurant. John tried to propose to me then and there. Poor guy was even on his knees and had hired a violinist for the occasion. I told him no, unsurprisingly he expected that.

Mom was of course thrilled that her daughter would be engaged to a lawyer, well not yet but eventually when he passed his bar. I told her I was a man and not interested in guys. I got slapped that night and was made to sit through a new birds and the bees lecture.

I have a long way to go yet but I am slowly coming to accept that I am and will always now be a woman. John seems to be patient to wait for me to come to terms. Yes he knows about me but still wants me as his wife. Its really sweet of him and truthfully I do sorta find him comfortable.

I have a doctors appointment in an hour so I had better get ready for it. I am even seriously thinking of saying yes when my female doctor recommends "corrective" surgery so I will be like other girls down there this time. Not sure yet, I just don't want to give up on myself.

With luvs
Jacqueline Teresa Marrow



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