My name was Julio, and I don't really know when it all began. I remember one time I was a little boy I had a dream that I'd turned into a girl somehow. In the dream I wore a pink dress and black Mary Jane shoes and white stockings, and my hair was long and curly. I remember going to the bathroom and for the first time peeing sitting down. When I was a bit older, at twelve I think, one time during gym class a friend of mine was sitting next to me. His legs caught my attention -he was wearing shorts- they were already covered in peach fuzz, they weren't massively muscular but they were no longer a little boy's legs but those of a teen. It was hard to look away.

When I started puberty, my body didn't change all that much. I was pretty smooth and had absolutely no hair on my chest, I was thin and not very muscular. My legs had little hair, and what hair they did have stayed close to my skin. To be honest, the worst part for me was my penis size, which was the smallest of those I'd seen among kids my age.

When I became a teen, I started getting erotic dreams, but not the sort that most teenage boys would like. I remember one in which four men were holding me up in the air, one per limb, while a fifth rammed his huge cock into my ass. Another time, I dreamed that I was in school but wearing the girls' uniform (in my country schoolchildren wear uniforms) and a boy approached me and asked me to be his girlfriend. Without waiting for my answer, he kissed me on the mouth and I didn't resist, he put his hands on my behind and fondled it, then unbuttoned my skirt and pulled down my panties, exposing my teenage girl's crotch...

I used to tell myself they were just silly dreams, that they didn't mean a thing, that surely all boys had dreams like that from time to time but just didn't talk about it. However, one day something happened that I couldn't just dismiss as a silly dream: I'd twisted my ankle so in gym class I just sat and watched the other boys play soccer. There were two teams, one with shirts and a shirtless one, they were all wearing shorts. I began noticing their torsos, their hairy legs... I was able to hide my tiny erection, but it was hard to deny even to myself that I liked men.

One day, a few weeks before summer break, as I was getting dressed after showering, I noticed my nipples seemed a little bigger than they'd always been. I thought maybe I was imagining it and didn't think more about it, but on the next few days I noticed my nipples were definitely swollen, and I thought it might be an allergy or something like that.

During the next few days their growth continued; soon I had to admit to myself I was growing breasts. I searched online and discovered it was called gynecomastia, that it can be solved by surgery, etc. I don't know why I didn't tell anyone, didn't go to the doctor, nothing. Maybe I was just ashamed and didn't want to admit it to anyone, I don't know. The fact is all I did was wear loose shirts and, later, bandage my chest.

A few days before school was out, my parents told me they'd arranged for me to spend the summer away with some cousins in the countryside. My dad said the fresh air and so on, would do me good. Deep down I knew that it was to see if life in the country made me more of a man. It was during those last few days in the city that I should've gone see a doctor, but I didn't.

I was warmly welcomed at the farm, the only problem was what my cousins liked to do for fun: playing soccer, which because of the heat they did shirtless, and swimming in the river. Obviously I didn't want my breast growth discovered, so I made excuses and stayed in the house. One of my aunts had had a baby a couple of months before, so it was the perfect match for her: I took care of the baby while the others were away, she taught me how to feed it with a bottle and everything, and so I stayed part of the day at the house with the baby while the others, including the baby's Mom, went out to play soccer, swim, etc.

Binding your breasts isn't very comfortable, and I didn't dare not do it when there was someone else in the house. So when it was just the baby and me, between the heat and the discomfort of binding, I just went topless. Released from their binding, my breasts were now large enough to need a bra. Despite spending so much time indoors, I didn't mind my routine, as taking my shirt off in front of others just wasn't an option and this way I had time to watch TV or do whatever I wanted.

I don't really know why I did it. One day, while I was watching a soap opera while naked from the waist up, the baby started crying. As I'd already given him the bottle, I thought of giving him a pacifier. I could have done so. But I saw or I thought I saw the baby staring at my breasts. Well, I carried him and thought some actual nipples would be better than a pacifier and, long story short, I let him suckle on my breasts. It was a weird, uncomfortable sensation, but I liked it.

From then on, I often offered him my breasts. In a matter of days, they grew even bigger; I couldn't believe nobody noticed them, despite the binding, but nobody said anything.

One day, I felt my breasts had grown noticeably during the night, and I waited anxiously for everyone to leave, so I could unbind them and go bare-chested. That day, when the baby suckled on my breast, I noticed something strange. I pulled him away and saw what I suspected: milk on his lips. I looked down: there was a drop of milk on the nipple the baby had suckled. Not only had I grown breasts, I'd actually nursed a baby, and it was due to lactation that my breasts had swollen the night before.

From that day on, I never gave the baby the bottle again, and I breastfed him when we were alone. Soon it wasn't just my breasts, I noticed my voice becoming higher-pitched, and by the fit of my clothes I knew my buttocks were becoming rounder. Maybe I was paranoid, but sometimes I thought my facial features were becoming more delicate, my hands more feminine, without being able to spot an obvious difference.

One day, I was breastfeeding the baby as was now routine, when I looked up and saw my aunt looking at me in silence. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I couldn't deny anything, not with my breasts exposed and the baby nursing.

My aunt was barefoot, no doubt so I wouldn't hear her footsteps as she approached; I don't know if she'd come back hours early so surrepticiously that I didn't hear her come in or if she simply had stayed behind discreetly.

-Just tell me everything, from the beginning.

I did. I told her the whole story, and she listened in silence until I was done.

-Truth is, we already knew almost all of it, obviously that you have breasts and so forth, and were just waiting for confirmation. Look, we can keep on more or less as we have, I've got no milk anymore and nursing is best for the baby, so you have to keep nursing him. But it doesn't have to be a secret anymore. Come, I want to give you something.

We went to a closet and she handed me some bras.

-They're more or less your size, you're a C cup, almost a D.

From then on, I began using bras and blouses. Now I did go out with my relatives sometimes, from time to time, leaving discreetly to breastfeed (I later found out my cousins followed me in secret to spy on my breasts).

The physical changes continued. I noticed my penis, which had never been very big, kept shrinking, and soon it was like a little boy's. Actually, save between my legs, my body was a woman's, and now it was no longer a secret, I dressed as such from the waist up.

It being summer, it was hot so it was comfy to wear sleeveless tops. Although in theory I was still a guy, I, well, thought I ought to shave my armpits, even though I only had peach fuzz (by then, by the way, I no longer needed to shave my face). I could justify wearing bras and so forth for comfort, but shaving my armpits was or at least seemed different - something I didn't have to do, but chose to do. I decided to go the whole way and shaved my legs as well.

I don't know if this was why my aunt did it, but the next day I found on my bed several piles of clothes, all of it feminine. Panties, bras, stockings, leggings, women's shoes, blouses, skirts, makeup, etc. While I was admiring the lot, my aunt walked in.

-Hi, Julia. I guess we can't keep calling you Julio. José Fernando helped me bring all the stuff.

José Fernando worked for my aunt and uncle.

-By the way, I've just phoned your parents and told them everything.

I think I stopped breathing.

-Don't worry, I convinced them my baby's health comes first and they agreed you can stay with us until he's weaned, school can wait.

That day I dressed up completely as a woman, from head to toe. I can't describe the sensation of putting on a skirt and so on. From the moment I stepped out of the bathroom, now dressed as a young woman, my routine became one of, apart from nursing the baby, being taught by my aunt and cousins about being a woman, stuff like walking on heels, putting on makeup, etc. Everyone now called me Julia and even José Fernando, who had always greeted me with a "Good afternoon, Julio," now greeted me with a "Good afternoon, Miss Julia."

Speaking of José Fernando, I began to notice the bulge in his pants. He was obviously much better-endowed than I'd ever been.

One day, while I was in my room getting ready to catch up with the others, who had gone ahead of me, I heard the door open. It was José Fernando.

I blushed, as I noticed him staring at my legs. I crossed them like women do. I noticed the bulge in his pants growing.

Something inside me snapped. Something that had been building up since the first time I had stared at a boy's hairy legs, since I'd begun checking boys out in the showers, since my first erotic dreams about sex with men, since I had gotten an erection just by watching shirtless boys play soccer.

I turned away from him, kneeled and got on all fours. For a terrible moment, I wondered if he'd left in disgust, but then I felt his hands on my ass.

He lifted up my skirt, yanked down my panties, spat on my asshole and soon I felt his cock pushing against it. I'd never even kissed a man, and now one was fucking me. At first I squealed in pain, but when I felt his pubic hair against my ass, I started moaning with pleasure.

That night, to my surprise I noticed that my testicles were gone. My shrunken scrotum was empty, as if my body had reabsorbed them. My penis was still there, though tiny and of course I had to pee sitting down.

A new routine began, my days now included nursing the baby and having anal sex with José Fernando.

I noticed one day that I no longer even peed through what had once been a penis, but through a new orifice. My penis wasn't really anything other than a clit anymore.

I again started having erotic dreams again. I dreamed, for example, that I was at my quince aá±os party, but instead of just dancing with the hired male dancers, I had sex with them, on the dance floor. I dreamed that I was a hooker servicing my customers. I dreamed I was a teenager watching a horror movie and at some point I hugged the complete stranger in the seat next to me, he lifted me and put me on his knees, lifted my skirt, pulled down my panties, and fucked me.

Eventually the baby was weaned. It was a gradual thing, so he'd get used to it. I thought that, as nursing him was what had unleashed the changes, maybe they'd revert with the weaning, at least in part. My breasts did shrink a bit when I stopped lactating, but I was still a C cup and nothing really changed, until after about a month.

I woke up feeling sick. During the night, not only had a slit opened where my testicles had once been, but it was bleeding - I was having my first period.

My aunt joked about how I was well past the usual age for my first period. My female cousins treated me like a younger sister, one rather naive in these things.

I couldn't hide it from José Fernando, of course, given that I was wearing a sanitary pad. When he saw that, he was stunned.

-So you can have babies?

-I guess so...

Later that day on, he brought me flowers and gifts and asked me to marry him.

-But... I know I'm a woman now, maybe always was inside, but on paper I'm a guy, I was born a guy.

Gay marriage wasn't an available option, but it turned out he'd thought of everything. We went to the town hall, where I told them I'd been born in the town but was never registered and after some paperwork I was given a birth certificate, in which my name was Julia and I was eighteen.

The wedding was a simple affair, a modest small town wedding. Despite all the times my husband had fucked me in the ass, my pussy was virgin and in that sense I had a right to marry in white.

I thought I had given myself to my now husband when I had gotten on all fours to take his cock in my ass, but no, no man can know what it is to give a man your virgin pussy, a hole that exists to receive cocks and give birth, and above all no man can know what it is to spread your legs knowing that he can get you pregnant. When he came inside me, my feminine instincts told me I was pregnant. In time I'd prove right.

Now I'm a housewife and, apart from homemaking, I take care of our baby. If I'm horny, all I've got to do is show my husband some leg or sway my ass for him to take me to bed. My in-laws don't know I wasn't born with a pussy between my legs. They think I was my aunt's baby's nanny, and that that's how my husband met me - which I guess is more or less true.

I'd love to continue telling you about me, but I've got to breastfeed my baby.