It all happened because I couldn't find a pacifier. Well, maybe it's a little more complicated than that.

I was Carlos, a regular sixteen-year-old boy. Slim, not too muscular, with brown skin, I wore my jet black hair slightly long and had relatively little body hair, but nothing too out of the ordinary. After school, I regularly babysat Pablo, my baby cousin, ever since my sister had decided she couldn't be bothered. My aunt Rosa didn't want him babysat by a stranger while she was away working, all the girls in the family couldn't or wouldn't do it, and I could use the extra cash. Most of the time it wasn't too bad.

One day, the baby was crying and, after checking he didn't need anything else, I tried giving him a pacifier but couldn't find it anywhere. I'm not sure why I did what I did then. Of course, a pacifier is just a nipple substitute, so maybe I figured a real nipple would do the job just as well. I don't know.

I took off my shirt. I carried the baby towards my hairless chest and put his mouth on my nipple. He started sucking; it felt funny, but not painful or anything, and it stopped his crying. From then on I didn't bother with pacifiers, I just used my nipples.

I did notice that my nipples sometimes felt sore, but didn't think it was important, not even when I noticed my areolas had gotten bigger. I just shrugged it off. I was a teenager, my body was supposed to be changing in all sorts of ways, and it just didn't seem like a big deal. When I noticed my nipples were a little swollen, I did wonder if maybe I should stop, but I didn't. I figured the swelling would just die down.

The opposite happened. My chest began to look like I had budding breasts. Every day I made up my mind to stop letting baby Pablo suck my nipples, and every day I didn't, telling myself it had to be harmless. I started wearing loose t-shirts, jackets in all sorts of weather to hide the swelling, I'd never live down the embarrassment if people noticed, which is also why I didn't tell anyone about the problem.

One day, hanging out with my friend Sean, he said:

'Dude, have you gained weight?'

'Huh?'

'No offense, man, but your butt seems to be getting bigger. Just sayin'.'

That night, I checked it the bathroom mirror - yes, my ass had become a little rounder, but my belly was flat.

The next day, I had to get some groceries after babysitting, so I was late for dinner and I rushed home. I didn't notice my sister Claudia looking out the window at me as I ran towards the house.

Later that evening, she knocked on my room, and I told her to come in. She handed me a shopping bag with something inside.

'Carlos... this is something you need and no longer fits me.'

I opened the bag. There was a A-cup bra inside.

'What? Are you crazy?'

'No. I saw how your... tits jiggled as you were running home.'

'But I can't wear this!'

'Yes you can, but that's your choice. Look, Carlos... you need to see a doctor about it. You won't be able to hide them if they get bigger.'

I shooed her out of the room. But I did take the bra. It was a strange feeling, putting one on before I had ever taken one off a girl, but it felt strangely right, and it did help with the jiggling.

I finally decided to go to a doctor after what happened one morning. I was taking care of my morning hard on when I noticed something - my cock had shrunk. I had never measured it before, but I could tell from how it felt in my hand.

I went to a doctor as soon as I could.

'How, may I help you, Miss?'

Damned receptionist. Sure, I had budding breasts and so on, but surely I didn't pass for a girl? Anyway, to make a long story short, I made it clear who I was and got to see the doctor. I explained what was going on, and he ran some tests.

'Well, Carlos, it seems you have an unusual condition - one that is normally harmless but in certain cases can lead to substantial
physiological changes.'

'What do you mean, doc?'

'Well, you appear to have gynecomastia - it means you're getting a bit of breast growth. Normally it goes away on its own or only minor surgery is required, but from what you tell us it's happened unusually quickly - maybe something is stimulating your body into thinking it should be female. Have you been doing anything unusual lately?'

I wasn't about to admit I was regularly offering my nipples for a baby to suck; it was too embarrassing.

'No, I can't think of anything.'

The night I had a rather disturbing dream. I was at a quince aá±os party - but I wasn't a guest, I was the party girl. I was wearing a long, pleated pink dress, though sleeveless and rather low cut, and high heels. I was called to the stage and I was crowned queen of the party with a pink crown. I then waltzed with a professional dancer hired for the party, I blushed as I found him very attractive. It turned out my quince aá±os dress had detachable parts, and at some point the bottom strip fell off, so that the dress was now only knee-high. That was the cue for the next bit of the party to begin: the stage was cleared and a male stripper
was brought in. When he was down to his thong, he walked up to me and, right in front of me, took it off. I couldn't help myself, and I took his cock in my mouth, giving my first blowjob in front of everyone. After he came, as I swallowed his cum, I realized more bits of the dress had come off - I was now only wearing a very skimpy pink top and miniskirt.

That was the cue for the next stage. A man walked towards me - he was black, easily six feet tall, bare-chested, muscular. He led me by the hand and as we stepped onto the stage the remains of my quince aá±os dress fell off - I was left with only a pink bra and thong.

We turned to face the audience, and he unstrapped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. I blushed as I felt every pair of eyes in the room stare at my breasts. I felt my nipples become erect and a wetness between my legs. As if in a trance, I kicked off my shoes and took off my thong. I sat on the floor and spread my legs wide, showing my virgin pussy to everyone as they took photos with cameras and cell phones, completely naked save for the pink crown on my head.

I heard the man who had brought me to the stage pull down his jeans' zipper. He grabbed my tits, pushing me onto the floor, and without a word thrust his huge, throbbing manhood into my wet pussy.

I awoke even as I ejaculated. Since I masturbated regularly, it had been a while since I'd had a wet dream, but never one like this. It was disturbing, but on the other hand, I could still feel a pleasurable tingling all over my body from the orgasm I'd had. Well, it could have been worse, maybe the next stage would've been having sex with all the men in the audience. Even as I pictured the image, my cock became hard again. I had to take these images off my mind - so I went to my computer and looked at pics of hot naked women. My dick remained soft until I looked at an image of a man and a woman having sex. This one turned me on - but I couldn't help imagining myself as the woman, not the man. I tried to get myself aroused by the woman, but it was impossible, and I gave up and
looked up images of men. For the first time in my life, I masturbated to images of cocks, and it wasn't just my cock that was erect, but my nipples too.

'Carlos, I've got a big favor I want to ask,' said Sean.

We were at his place.

'Go on.'

'Well, we both know your body has been changing... I want to see you dressed like a girl.'

I swallowed.

'OK.'

'Good!'

'Now, or...?'

'Yes, before you change your mind.'

I decided I might as well get it over with, and was about to take off my shirt, when Sean stopped me.

'Wait,' he said.

He found a gym bag and pulled out a schoolgirl uniform, knee-high white socks, shoes, a bra and panties.

'Sean, I... don't need the underwear.'

'What? You mean...'

'Yes. I mean, I need a bra to stop my... chest from jiggling, and panties fit my ass better.'

'OK. Oh, I nearly forgot.'

He handed me a pink razor.

'Don't forget to shave your legs and armpits.'

I nodded, took the clothes and the razor, and went into the bathroom. I stripped to my underwear, and went about shaving. When I was done, I looked into the mirror. My newly smooth legs were definitely feminine; many of the girls at school didn't have legs this shapely. I put on the socks, school uniform, shoes. I stepped out of the bathroom.

'Man, you're becoming a really hot chica.'

I blushed.

'Turn around, I wanna see your ass.'

I did a twirl. I took a few steps towards him, wiggling my ass. I felt my nipples become erect, and not because I was cold. My tiny cock was hard, but it didn't show under the skirt.

'Wow,' Sean whispered.

I smiled.

'I-I have something else I want you to have a go at wearing.'

'Sure.'

He pulled out of the gym bag a black miniskirt, a rather skimpy red top, a pair of fishnet stockings and red high-heel shoes. He then handed me a bag with red lipstick and nail polish. Without saying a word, I took the clothes, went into the bathroom and changed. I saw myself in the mirror as I put on the lipstick - I looked like a hot teenage girl. No doubt Sean saw me the same way, because as soon as I came out he went up to me and kissed me - we French kissed and then he started kissing my neck and put his hands
on my tits. When he licked my ear, I just nodded.

We went to his room. He caressed my shapely, smooth legs and then took off my top and bra, burying his face on my breasts. Then he turned me over and lifted my miniskirt. He pulled my panties down just enough to uncover my asshole, but left them so that they covered my tiny balls and dick. I got hornier as I realized every inch of flesh he was seeing was female. I felt his cockhead grazing against my ass, then pushing into it, and felt both pain and pleasure as it went in.

I pushed back against him until his cock went in all the way to the hilt, and I could feel his pubic hair against my round ass. I moaned as he pushed back and forth.

He came, and as I felt his warm cum fill my ass, my balls emptied themselves for the last time in my life. As my little cock became limp again, I felt my scrotum being pulled inside my body, as if it were retractable. I could definitely never be a normal male again; I had no balls any more, and my cock was so small it was partly hidden underneath my pubic hair.

The next time I went over to his place, he had a new outfit for me: I dressed up as his maid. Soon after I was on all fours, scrubbing the floor, while Sean fucked my feminine ass doggy style.

I was on the phone with Sean.

'So, Sean... I have a surprise for you.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, this morning I noticed something new about my body - there's a slit between my legs.'

'So you've got a pussy now?'

'Yes. Would you like to test drive it? Would you like to pop my cherry?'

An hour later, I stepped out of the bathroom. I was wearing high heels, and on my chest, a pink sash, tied in a bow behind my back, just wide enough to cover my areolas, but narrow enough to make it obvious I was wearing no bra. Below, I wore a frilly miniskirt covered with pleated pink gauze. And nothing underneath.

'You know, I didn't have a quince aá±os party when it was my birthday. But all I really want is for you to make me a woman.'

Sean didn't hesitate. He took off his shirt and swept me off my feet; I kicked off my shoes and pressed my female flesh against Sean's muscular, manly chest.

He took me to his bedroom. He pulled off the sash covering my breasts; he stared at them, excited by their size. I stared at the bulge in his jeans, and felt my new pussy getting wet as I stared. I lay on my back, and spread my legs wide.

He positioned himself on top of me, and I wrapped my legs around him; I screamed as his cock tore my hymen. As he fucked me roughly, I had orgasm after orgasm, the best one of all being when he filled my pussy with cum.

This was two months ago. Right now I'm shopping for maternity clothes.

I had just turned twelve. A late bloomer, I had only a bit of peach fuzz hair above my smallish cock and overall still had the body of a little boy. There had been nothing particularly unusual about my childhood, except one time I had a dream in which I was a girl - I wore a pink dress, white leggings and black Mary Jane shoes. I went to the potty and peed sitting down. That was all.

Back to when I was twelve, it was summer, and I was spending a week at my aunt's place in another town while my parents stayed home. My aunt was divorced and lived with her three daughters, the youngest being an 11-year-old called Leslie.

Nothing very memorable happened until a few days after my arrival. We were walking home to my aunt's house, with me and Leslie lagging behind a little. We walked past some teenage boys playing soccer. I've never really been into sports, but I glanced in their direction and I noticed one of them in particular, an Indian boy of probably about fourteen. He wore a yellow t-shirt and white shorts, which looked good against his mahogany skin. I noticed his muscular, hairy legs, and wondered what he would look like shirtless.

I looked away when I noticed Leslie looking at me. Nothing else happened until a couple of weeks later, when Leslie and I (my older cousins rarely hanged out with us) had gone to the woods and I'd stupidly fallen into a puddle. Worse, when we got home my aunt explained she'd just put my clothes in the washer, so I didn't have any clean clothes, as she didn't immediately expect me to need any.

"Can't he just wear something of mine while he waits? It's not like I have cooties, and he'll get mud all over the place if he doesn't change."

My aunt nodded, and turned to me.

"It's just clothes," she said.

I mumbled something. But she was right, and there wasn't really much choice. She herself fetched something for me. It wasn't too bad, a plain white t-shirt, purple pants and white socks, and I was still wearing my briefs. At least it wasn't panties and a dress.
I went upstairs to watch TV with Leslie. She asked me if I wanted to play truth or dare first. I agreed and asked to choose.

"Truth," she said.

"How many boys have you kissed?"

"A few. Three, I think."

"Who?"

"Hey, it's my turn. Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"OK. But... I don't know, I don't think you'll dare do this."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Never mind. I mean you'd never agree to do it."

"You're saying I'd chicken out?"

"I think you would."

"Well, I'll prove you wrong."

"Well, James... "

"What? I won't chicken out," I said, even though I wasn't feeling at all confident.

"I dare you to dress like a girl."

"Uh... well, I already am, sort of."

"I mean a girly girl. You're dressed like a tomboy."

"You mean... a dress?"

"Yeah. And the rest."

"The rest?"

"Panties and stuff. Are you chickening out? You're already dressed like a tomboy, so you're kind of halfway there anyway."

"Err..."

I couldn't chicken out after all I'd say. And she was right, I was already halfway there anyway.

"Perfect! I'll go find something."

I'd not even said anything.

A few minutes later, I was standing in front of a mirror. I was wearing pink sandals and a white summer dress and, yes, panties. As I was a little taller than Leslie, I was showing a bit more leg than she would. With my short hair and so forth I looked like a tomboy who decided to put on a dress one day, but I didn't look like a boy wearing a dress.

"Now, we need a girl name for you."

"Huh? You only dared me to dress up."

"Yeah, but there's no point if you act like a boy wearing a dress. Nobody's going to know anyway."

"Well, OK. What about... Jasmine?"

"That's a nice name. So Jasmine, we need to have a girl-to-girl talk for you to really get into character. Don't chicken out on me now."

"Erm... OK."

"Great! So tell me, Jasmine, what kind of boys are your type? Don't tell me you're a gay girl."

"I'm not, but I, well..."

"Good. So what kind of boys do you like?"

I thought of the boys I'd seen playing soccer. I thought of their hairy, muscular legs. I imagined them playing bare-chested, I imagined their lean, well-toned chests and their hairy armpits. In my mind's eye, I stared at the bulges in their shorts as I felt something like butterflies in my stomach.

"You know what can help you get into character? Just saying 'I am Jasmine, ' trust me."

She took my hand. I as a bit annoyed at having been distracted from my daydream, but I couldn't tell her that.

"I am Jasmine," I said reluctantly.

I felt an odd tingling sensation all over my body. I closed my eyes and felt my body shrink somehow, and the clothes I was wearing shrank with it.

When I opened my eyes, in the mirror I saw a little girl of 7 or 8, her black hair braided, dressed in a smaller version of the dres I'd been wearing, showing her latte-colored legs.
"What..." I said in my high-pitched, little girl's voice.

I lifted up the dress, and pulled down my panties. There was slit on my hairless crotch, and no dangling bits. I really was a girl. I pulled up my panties.

"How....?"

"Do you believe in magic, Jasmine?"

"I guess I have to now?"

"Yep. At least, I don't have a better explanation. Well, my name used to be Jeremy, and I used to be in high school. Then one of the girls convinced me to have a makeover, and to say 'I am Leslie.' That was about a year ago."

"But I remember you when you visited last summer, and the summer before that and...."

"When the magic changes us, everything else changes too. People's memories. Birth records. Old photos. Only the girl being turned and the one turning her remember."

I began getting glimpses of memories that went with my new body. I knew I was now 8 and my name really was Jasmine. I knew my dad was now a black man, hence my skin color. I knew I'd been taking ballet lessons. I had memories of playing with dolls and of doing my nails. I remembered taking swimming lessons wearing a purple bikini.

"Jasmine, one day you'll find someone like us - a girl trapped in a boy's body. You have to do the same as I did, convince her to say her real name, and she will turn into the girl she is inside."

"But what if... I get it wrong?"

"You won't, you'll just know. And the magic only works if she really is a girl, even if she doesn't know it yet or can't admit it even to herself, it's good magic. It might be a grown man, it might be a baby boy, but there's a girl inside."

"When did you know? With me?"

"The other day, when you were staring at the boys playing."

"Was I that obvious?"

"Yes. Of course, you could've just been a gay boy, but I had a feeling you weren't a boy at all. So I got you to play truth or dare, then I just knew I was right. So here we are."

"Are there, you know, boys like us? That can turn girls into boys?"

"No idea."

"Leslie... thanks."

Other memories came. I "remembered" in two weeks' time I'd be a flower girl at a cousin's wedding. I couldn't hold back any longer, I began crying tears of joy and gratitude. We hugged.

That was ten years ago. Leslie is now happily married, and several months pregnant. As for me, I'm in high school and dating the football team quarterback.

But tonight I'm babysitting. I was babysitting a boy called Tommy, but that has now changed. I'd noticed there was something about the way he moved, afraid of letting his natural feminine demeanor show, but still it showed sometimes, if you looked carefully.

Anyway, I did what I had to do. Tommy, now Tammy, seems shocked by her reflection. The mirror shows a little girl, a redhead with pigtails wearing a white dress, cute as a button. A Punky Brewster lookalike, but with coppery hair.

She's just pulled down her panties to check that her transformation really is complete. Maybe we all do that when it happens.

"But..."

"Now, Tammy, don't worry."

I explained about the magic.

"I'm a girl... I really am a girl now..." she muttered.

"Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes!"

She giggled with girlish glee. I smiled a little mischievously.

"And wait 'til you discover boys."

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.

I don't know how it happened. Magic of some sort is the only explanation that makes any sense. I'm standing, in a hotel room somewhere, I take it, while he lies in bed. I look at myself in the mirror while he smirks. I don't know how I got here.

I used to be a man. But now I'm wearing a peach-colored maid's uniform, with a white apron and black stockings and shoes. My hair is long. I know I'm wearing a bra and panties underneath the uniform.

But that's not all. The worst is I can feel my breasts, probably C-cups, and that I have no dangling bits in my panties - no doubt just a slit.

I don't know who he is. I don't know anything about him. But somehow I know that he made this happen, yet I can't do anything about it.

"Stop admiring yourself," he says. "You're here to serve me. Come here."

I walk towards the bed, standing right in front of him.

"Take off your apron."

I obey, letting it fall on the floor. He puts his hands on my behind, feeling my round, feminine butt. Then he lets go.

"Go finish undressing in front of the mirror."

I walk to the mirror, facing it. I take off the uniform. It's as if my now-feminine hands knew these clothes well. I take off my shoes and stockings.

I am wearing delicate, lace-covered white lingerie, which contrasts nicely with my dark skin. My legs and armpits are perfectly smooth. I unclasp my bra with ease, as I'd been wearing them for years. It falls to the floor.

I have nice, firm breasts. Probably C-cups, a bit on the large side. My nipples, though not huge, are clearly not a man's.

I pull down my panties. I'm not surprised to see I now have a slit between my legs, that all trace of maleness is gone.

"Come here."

I approach the bed. He puts his hands on my breasts, fondling them, pinching my nipples. I'm becoming aroused, I can feel my crotch getting wet.

He puts his hands on my shoulders, and pulls me into the bed with him. He climbs on top of me, his muscular, hairy legs part my own smooth, shapely legs, and in a single firm motion he deflowers me, I whimper as his whole manhood enters me. He thrusts back and forth, his whole body pushing his manhood into my love canal again and again, his lust overwhelming everything else, so that he's not fucking me or making love to me, he's mounting me like a stallion mounting a mare, and then waves of pleasure come over me, and I begin squealing with pleasure. I feel his manhood grow even bigger inside me, and fill my pussy with his seed.

I begin crying tears of joy - I don't know how it happened, but it had been everything I'd dreamed it would be.

My ex-girlfriend hadn't changed since I'd last seen her. She was still slim and, while not exceptionally curvy, definitely with enough curves in the right places. She was also definitely dressed to impress, wearing a yellow summer dress that went well with her shapely, caramel-colored legs and contrasted nicely with her well-brushed jet-black hair, her legs crossed as she was sitting on the bed.

"Hi," I said.
"So you made it," she answered.
"I guess so. You look great."
"Thanks."

I smiled, looking forward to the sex - after all, she had wanted to meet in a hotel room and was sexily dressed. Yet I was a bit overly nervous also, without knowing why.
She took a bag that was next to her and pulled out a bottle and wine glasses.

"Shall we have a drink first? I'm taking medicine so I won't have any alcohol, but I got you some wine."
"Sure, thanks."

I hadn't even finished my first glass of wine when I felt kind of dizzy, and my vision a little blurry. I tried to say something, but my speech was slurred.
She pulled out her phone and made a call.

"Yeah, it's taking effect. I'm ready whenever you are."
There was a knock on the door almost immediately.
"Stay here," she said to me. Then she went to get the door. I realized she had put something in my drink, as scared as I was all I could do was to stay where I was, as I'd been told.

I heard her open the door, I heard someone, or maybe two people, walk in. I heard men's voices, but I coudn't hear clearly, and I couldn't make out any words, as if everyone's speech were slurred, which was probably the drug affecting my hearing. I could distinguish a woman's voice, presumably my ex's, and two deeper, male voices.
She walked over to me and tapped me on the shoulder.

"Just do whatever I do."

She began to undress. Unable to stop myself, I began doing the same, and soon we were both naked. She then got on all fours on the floor. As if on autopilot, I also got on all fours side by side.
One of the men approached her. He was completely naked - a blond guy, slightly tanned, muscular - and he put his hand on her hips. The tip of his very erect cock grazed against her ass, and he started pushing it in even as she moaned.
I felt a pair of strong hands on my own hips. I knew what was going to happen, and I turned my head to at least take a look at the stranger who was going to fuck me.
He was black, very muscular and, judging by his chest, fairly hairy.
I felt the tip of his manhood on my asshole, and closed my eyes. I felt him push, and for a moment I thought he would not go in, but then he did, slowly, very slowly. Firmly, he pushed his thick manhood into me little by little. I had no idea how much more I had to take, I felt I could not take any more yet he pushed deeper into me and, only after what seemed to be forever, I felt his pubic hair against my ass, and knew his manhood had gone in me to the hilt. For a moment he simply held it in place, and grew ever so slightly bigger, sending a spasm of pleasure in me.
Then something broke. No physically, but mentally. It was as if a dam in my mind had broken down, and desires and memories came flooding. I let out a loud moan, and let out tears of joy at what was being done to me.
He began thrusting, pulling out slightly and then firmly pushing back in again in a slow but rhythmic motion. With each thrust, memories came flooding back.
I remembered one time when I'd barely hit puberty and I was watching a soccer game with some older boys, and how, as they had no uniforms, one of the teams had played barechested. I remember how I had to put my backpack on my lap to hide my little erection, and how I'd completely lost track of the game while staring at the boys' chests and legs.
I remembered in the showers taking a peek at the other boys, lying to myself, telling myself I was only curious and just wanted to compare myself, when I desperately wanted to touch their cocks.
I remembered at a cousin's quinceaá±os party - I remembered wondering what it would be like to wear an elaborate pink dress like hers.
I remembered one particular time I'd had sex with the woman now being fucked next to me - one time I'd pounded her hard, brutally, and she'd loved it. I didn't dare admit it even to myself then, but I did now: I had fucked her how I wanted to be fucked, and I'd been aroused by imagining myself in her place, that it was me spreading my legs and getting cock.
I remembered one time in my teens when I accidentally walked in on another cousin nursing her baby and how the quick glimpse of her naked breast had seared itself into my mind - I had convinced myself it was desire what I'd felt, but that was a lie - I'd felt envy.
The man fucking me began thrusting harder and faster. I had a vision of myself, undressing as I'd done earlier, but saw myself dressed not in the male clothes I'd been wearing, but in a wedding dress. I saw myself lie on the bed, and the man fucking me in the real world was my husband, and I spread my legs for him. I envisioned him deflowering me even as he thrusted harder and harder. Then he came both in my vision and in reality, and I had a screaming orgasm and everything went blank.

It's funny how wishes can turn out. Before it happened, I would never have wished it to happen. I wished for things like saving up enough money to start a business back home, or getting a green card. It's funny how life turns out - I also dreamed of fucking blond American girls, not that they paid much attention to me.

Lookswise, I looked like plenty of other Mexican teens - caramel-colored skin, black eyes and jet-black straight hair. I was smoother and slimmed than most, but apart from that I was a pretty ordinary Mexican guy.
John hired me to do chores around the house like gardening. He had a baby daughter and otherwise lived alone - his wife had died tragically due to complications in labor. I felt very sorry for them both. John seemed very much like a family man, though that was a gut feeling more than anything else.

It was a hot summer, and I worked shirtless a lot of the time. Even at night you didn't really need a shirt. One day shortly after sunset, I looked for John to tell him I was done for the day, and didn't put on my shirt first. That may have been the most important decision in my life, as it turns out.

He was in the baby's room, next to the crib, gazing out the window. I was about to say something, but I saw what John was looking at: a shooting star. I'd heard you could wish on them and, thinking of the baby girl next to us, I wished there was someone to love her like a real mother would.

I felt a strange tingling in my nipples. I felt them swell, I felt mounds rise on my chest and my areolas grow.
I saw the baby staring at my chest. I knew what she'd wished for, no doubt what every baby, if even a little hungry, wishes for. Instinctively I lifted her up in my arms and brought a nipple to her tiny mouth.

I can't really describe what it felt like - the incredibly loving, tender feelings as I felt my milk flow through my nipple to feed her - such a perfect expression of maternal love. I knew what to do, I'd seen the women in my family nurse enough times. When the baby was done and I placed her back in the crib, I turned and saw John staring at me - I'd totally forgotten about him.

I felt a tingling sensation spread through my body, everywhere save my breasts. I felt what clothes I wore fall of their own accord, revealing me naked to him. I knew, without having to look down, that I now had a slit between my legs.

Without either one saying anything, he lifted me up and carried me into his bedroom next door. As he put me on the bed, I saw my reflection in the mirror - my smooth, caramel-colored body, with a little bit of hair above my pussy, my feminine curves, my long black hair in a braid.

I lay down on the bed, smiling nervously at John. I spread my legs, giving myself to him. He climbed on the bed and I soon felt the tip of his manhood entering me; I squirmed as my hymen broke. He pushed, gently but firmly, until he was all the way in. I knew somehow that he had wished for a woman, that Latinas were his type, and that he didn't want a lay, he wanted a wife and mother for his children.

Slowly, rhythmically he started pushing back and forth as he lovingly kissed me, caressing my feminine curves. As his rhythm became faster, I started moaning with pleasure, hearing my new high-pitched voice for the first time. As I had my first female orgasm, I thought that for that alone my transformation was a blessing.

All rational thought left us. He wasn't making love to me any more, and not even fucking me - he was mounting me like an animal, like a stallion mounting a mare, and I was squealing like a bitch in heat. I felt his manhood grow a little bigger, and felt him fill me with his seed.

This was a few months ago. I'm getting John's dinner ready for when he comes home. I'm very happy tonight; I can't wait to tell him the results from the pregnancy kit were positive. We've both been waiting for this since I weaned the baby. I hope he'll continue to make love to me during my pregnancy, and I'm looking forward to nursing again.