Author Topic: My Story... a bit disturbing/different  (Read 4346 times)

Offline bas1985

  • Member
  • *
  • Posts: 4

I am in Europe, sorry for my English. My story is very long
and a bit different from yours and probably I will not
complete it now... Maybe I will return on this post, if you
are interested.

I have discovered this site now, but my G. started long time
ago, in 1985. I was 12, then. Very thin, also now (180 cm,
68kg)... so those two nipples erected were very, very
noticeable, and very sensitive. They have a almost perfect
emispherical shape, about 2 cm. height. When there is cold
they retire ("goose skin") and seem almost "normal". It
seems that they are filled with water, but inside you can
touch the mammary tissue. Yes... it _IS_ g. not fat. Their
aspect is not that changed during these 24 years. My chest
now is a bit hairy, so it is more masculine... but then,
when I was young, I had barely the beard, and no hairs on
chest.

I have gone through the same your "adventures": fear of the
others, fear of going to the seaside. The other friends
derided me, etc... I have read your stories. Been there,
done that.

My mother, at first, joked a little on this "event", maybe
she did not at first understand its "gravity". I am an only
child, my parents are separated and I lived only with my
mom. She was very young then, I was 12, she was 31. She took
me to the doctor... the doctor (a "she" doctor, she was
still my paediatrician) told me simply to wait and not to
eat chicken. They will pass. I was not convinced. I told my
mother: "And if they will not go away?"... "Well, I will buy
you a bra", was her simple answer.

My dad was not very different. During the summer he took me
to the beach and told me joking: "Oh, tell me! You have
boobs!". His brother, my uncle, told me that also he had
them when he was young and that probably it was a family
issue. "Don't worry, they go away".

In any case my mother took me to make some real exams, the
blood tests showed a "subnormal testosterone level" and a
high prolactin. They measured also my testicules. It was all
"normal" down there. I made also an X-Ray to the brain to
look for the pituitary gland. All normal also there.

===

But school was starting again. It was september. Still
hot. I was wearing a simple t-shirt and the nipples where
very evident. I was writing on my desk and abruptly two
hands from behind were on my breasts and a male voice behind
me said: "Nice breasts... nice breasts" in an almost excitated
voice and the hands moved on them.

I was disturbed, but the sensation on my breasts was not so
*bad*. They gave pleasure.

I had started in this year also to have the first erections,
but I did not masturbate myself, I did not know how... (it
seems funny, but it is the truth, I lived only with my
mother, not many friends). This is very important, because I
started from the beginning to associate physical pleasure
with breasts, because from the beginning... well I am
anticipating.

===

In one of the visits to the doctor, in the waiting room, I
found a magazine where there was an article about the
"changing-sex" operation. There was a "man" intervisted who
narrated his story. He was married but felt something
different and now he was a "She" and his/her wife was
his/her best friend. He did not have g. There was also an
opposite story, of a woman who tried to be a man with a
penis made of leather (!).

From this article I started to day-dream about changing
sex. But not with an operation. No surgery (I am very afraid
of it). No, my fantasy was that the g. was a first step
towards a natural occurring changing sex, like a
metamorphosis of a butterfly. I fantasized about the "she
doctor" that would teach me how to put a bra, my breasts
will go larger and eventually I would leak blood for the
first menstruation and after that my penis will fall, like a
milk tooth. And I would be a girl.

A lesbian girl.

Yes. Because in all of these fantasies I never, NEVER,
desidered a boy, to kiss a boy, to touch a boy or to be
penetrated. As a matter of fact during the fantasy I was
very horny... expecially during the "bra" and "large breast"
part of the fantasy. I am heterosexual, always have been,
maybe I am omosex inside, in my subconsciuos, who knows?, in
any case on the outside I am only attracted by women,
maternal women with large breasts. I only started to focus
my concentration, sexual concentration, on breasts.

I looked brests everywhere, in every magazine, in my female
teachers, on my school mates...

There was a "bipolar" sentiment growing in me.

On some moments I would cut my nipples away in a moment of
rage, to be like the other boys.

On some moments I would envy the other girls, who had
breasts and could be happy of them, I looked at them happy,
"À l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs", wearing their first
bras, being proud of them.

My breasts were:

- too big to be considered "normal", also because I am thin
and they are very evident

- too small to justify the bra... or at least... this was my
sensation, I never tried one until... well I anticipate too
much.

And so on some days I would have desidered to have them
bigger, if I could not make them go away: "At least I would
have an excuse to dress like a girl". (A _lesbian_ girl)
"and nobody will deride me".


to be continued... if you want...

Linkback: https://www.gynecomastia.org/forum/index.php?topic=19135.0

Offline Jopet

  • Silver Member
  • ***
  • Posts: 132
  • MANILA, PHILIPPINES
sure.. go ahead man.. continue your story..
everyone's reading it..
*** THE GREATEST AMOUNT OF WASTED TIME IS THE TIME NOT GETTING STARTED. ***

Offline bas1985

  • Member
  • *
  • Posts: 4

2nd part

This bipolar sentiment was so strong that I started to write
and "draw" a diary. A sort of comic book... in this book I
wrote and drew a story in which an "alter ego" of mine had
g. and an "alter ego" of my mother, like a maternal doctor,
started to teach the young boy to use a bra. She gave the
boy some "magical" cream to augment the breasts, etc... and,
also, she would breastfed him. This lactation fantasy was a
"new entry" in my mind. You have to note that we are in
autumn 1985, no internet, no easy porn on web like now, I
did not have easy access to every porn fantasy; nowadays
just name it, a single click and you can have free tons of
pictures and videos. My only "porn" sources were some
drawings of naked women in medical books I had in the house
and some lingerie-ads in women magazines... I read about
breasts and about milk... and my brain did the rest. Maybe I
felt alone, maybe I thought that "nursing" could have a
calming effect (it has, but I discovered it many years
later).

But let's return to the point of this discussion (I will
return to the milk in a short time...): the bra. Yes, the
bra. All was centered on this "garment". My
concentration. My day-life. My school life. My thoughts. My
eyes began to be like radar, x-ray scanners, I was able to
see, to feel the presence of the bra on my female friends. I
tried to see the bra in every woman, on my teachers, on
women on the buses, in the street. At the church. I needed
only a small gap between the buttons in the blouse to see a
corner of the bra to get aroused. Only the thought of it was
exciting.

My school-mates began to make jokes on the girls, for
example to lift the bra on the back and release it suddenly
on the skin. I heard the girls shouting, but at the same
time smiling at this new attraction. I heard the girls
saying loud: "Yesterday I went with my mom to buy my first
bra". We (boys) in choir: "Ah, a small A!!!!", "NO", she
would cry, "not at all, I have already a B!" And she was
proud of it.

And I was envious and miserable because I was teased like
the other girls for the presence of the breasts... but the
girls could be "proud" of it, because at least it meant that
they were beginning to be sexually attractive, I could not.

I returned back home all days sad. As I said I lived with
only my mother who worked all day, I had to cook myself, in
a certain sense I had to do some "girl's works", like
cooking and do the dishes for myself... then, after lunch,
all the afternoons I had plenty of time to pass alone. I
opened my mother's drawers... took out her bras. Looked at
them.

She had a small size, maybe an A. But in any case they
seemed to be unsuited for me. They were "normal" bras, with
the cup of triangular shape. But my breast was circular and
confined to the areola. It is no use to make a photo of me
now... it will not portray the clear situation, because now
the breast is the same, but I am bigger, I have hairs on
chest... but 24 years ago it was all too different. I had a
chest thin, bald, with these two puffy nipples... looking at
your photos my G., from 1 (small) to 10 (big), can be rated
now 3, but then it was maybe 7 or 8. It was noticeable also
wearing a sweater in winter. Nothing exagerrated, but
present.

In any case looking at my breasts and at a woman in bra
found in a bra-ad on a magazine (I started to collect those
pictures and to put them in the same exercise book I used to
write my story) I was forced to realized that the two kinds
of breasts seemed too different to be supported by the same
garment.

---

This situation continued until the period around New Year's
Day 1986.

At the time I was at my aunt's home, a sister of my mom who
lived in a town near mine. Married, without children. Also
there I was alone during the mornings, because she worked
part time. She was different from my mom. My mom is tall and
thin, she is fat and short, with big breasts.

I started to look also at my aunt's breasts. They were nice,
I thought. I was aroused and started to day dream about a
possible incest with her. But not a *total* incest, an
intercourse, I started instead to fantasize about a "nursing
relationship" with my aunt, she would be my
"sex-change-teacher", like the one which I had drawn daily
in my book in the past weeks, she would give me her bras and
would breastfed me.

I was still 12, very, very young. No experience at all.

One morning, exactly January 3rd, 1986, alone in her house,
I took one bra of hers and put it on. I was excited and
confused.

It fitted. Yes... it fitted. IT FITTED!

This was amazing. How could it be? I had breasts, but
certainly smaller than my aunt's... the triangular cup of
the bra was in some way elastic and it fitted to my
chest. The sensation was of "confort" and of "support",
emotional support, like a virtual hug.

In those days I did not know anything of "sizes" and
"cups". I did not know that a C cup on a thin chest could
fit a A cup on a large chest, for example. For me it was
strange and inexplicable.

Anyway I felt fine. Aroused, of course. But fine. It seemed
that my breasts eventually got what they deserved since
their "birth", eight months before.

I passed the rest of the morning trying all her bras,
carefully remembering the exact location of every item in
the drawer.

Now... what?

This could be the summary of my thoughts. I was in that
bedroom, with a bra on, a hard on... what was next?

I did not know.

...I tried to redress myself. Male. Tried to read a book, to
do some school homework or a crossword puzzle. I tried a
"Take it easy" approach. All was like before, except that I
was wearing a bra.

"A bra is a garment for people with breast"

This is a "slogan" I found on this site.

24 years ago, in a lonely home... a 12-years-old boy with
breasts was trying to repeat this "mantra" over and
over. Unsuccessfuly. I was always exicited, with a constant
hard on. It was tiring. I did not know how to masturbate and
the erection lasted hours. It was like being cut in half.

The lower part male. The upper part female. And the lower
part was excited because it saw a female breast upper. I
wanted to go further, I needed to explore further... a bra
was not enough. There were many other things in my aunt's
drawer...


...to be continued.

Offline azrael

  • Member
  • *
  • Posts: 1


 

SMFPacks CMS 1.0.3 © 2020