Part 1- My Metamorphosis

This story is not about the confident, always naked woman that I am today but rather the beginning where the reserved tomboy begins her metamorphosis. I was a typical midwest girl with two loving, Christian parents. For the first seventeen years of my life I was always doing something whether it was working at the church that my dad ran or just being another one of the boys with my group of close guy friends. I often found myself doing things that a young lady shouldn’t be doing like getting my hands dirty or playing tackle football, but my parents didn’t seem to mind considering the boys never did anything illicit. And looking back, I was never interested in them or any boy for that matter. I guess my thinking was if you act like a boy long enough, you just start to think like one too.

I was chatting with my mom one night at dinner and she had asked if I had any boy that I thought was cute. I confided in my mom that I wasn’t attracted to any boy for that matter. My mother religiously told me ‘Jaime, Jesus will put the perfect man in your life and you just need to be ready for when it happens. In the meantime though, just focus on your studies.’ I wholeheartedly agreed at the time and focused on getting myself into my dream college where I could get my degree to work as a Christian school teacher. I would just let God fill in the gaps of everything else exactly the same way he had done for my parents.

To give you the specs of my younger self and one of the reasons on why I was considered “another one of the guys,” my figure at the time was a 5’7” 100 lb frame with 32A boobs, 22” waist and a 28” butt. My hair was dark brown and my skin sporting a farmer tan that left most of my skin very pale. My activity level of constantly moving around and being blessed with a strong metabolism seemed to always keep me skinny despite the amount of food I consumed. I was convinced that I only inherited my dad’s genes since he was a string bean himself, being 6’4” and only 140lbs. Then again I had no clue what my mom even looked like since she always had baggy clothing on.

Strangely enough, I never once assumed I was a late bloomer and never questioned why I wasn’t more feminine. My wardrobe would be considered masculine as it consisted mainly of flannels, long pants and working boots. My underwear was very modest and full coverage with generic bras that I would always wear with a cami. If I was wearing a dress or skirt for church, they would reach down to the floor with a long sleeve blouse without no skin showing. My mom had a similar style as she only ever wore very conservative clothing, but she would never wear pants or anything masculine. We were often modern day pioneers through and through!

Now that I’ve set the stage of how I was before everything changed let’s get to the day where it all actually happened!

June 5th, 2019- I had turned 18 a week before my high school graduation. We had a lovely party with friends and family that I agreed would also be my graduation party. I made the formal announcement at the party that, with careful consideration, I had plans to go to a nearby university just a few hours away. Everyone, especially my parents, were ecstatic with my career decision to continue working alongside them in the church. I couldn’t have been happier at the time and thought everything was going perfectly according to plan.

*****

July 15th, 2019- After the first month of summer break had passed, my body started to undergo drastic changes as if I was under some transformation spell. I woke up one morning to my boobs pushing against my now painfully tight bra and pajama top. I quickly unbuttoned my pajama top, took off my cami and then unclasped my bra. As I was pulling the straps down, my bra shot off of my chest rather forcefully. I got out of bed to collect it and examined my naked breasts in my full length mirror. I almost fainted and saw that my flat chest had suddenly transformed into two bouncy boobs. The transformation was sudden considering my clothes had fit perfectly the night before. My areola were no longer a soft pink but were now a darker pinkish brown. My curiosity had me grab my newly formed chest as if they were optical illusions.

With a light touch of my finger tip on my nipples, I sharply gasped as a shockwave of pleasure almost had me falling over. My mom’s voice calling me down for breakfast brought me back to reality as I quickly put on my bra, cami and pajama top again in case she had walked in. I quickly hurried to the kitchen as I hoped to try to speak with my mom about what was happening to my body.