An interesting thing about our lives was when I was about 11 I decided I wanted to get back in touch with being a man. I rose from my room, where I had been playing some video games. I remember that day was when I had bought a new bra to go along with my parent's agreement: no going around the house with support. My mom said it was bad for my body. Her body. Well, anyways, by now it's pretty much mine.
I walked into my parents' room, where I saw my old self and my little sister's now blossoming body trying to figure out the next step in preparing the machine. I looked from my Dad's growing breasts, which were well on their way to becoming almost as large as mine, to my mother, her boyish face beaming at me. "Yes Jim?"
"Mom, I need to talk to you about something in private." Your dad glanced at her and then ran off, his pigtails bouncing. You sat next to your mom, and bit your lip for a second. "Mom, I want to go to the gym." You didn't expect the look of surprise and pleasure on your mom's face.
"That's great honey! I'm so happy you're deciding to keep your body fit!"
"No Mom, I mean. Look at all the other kids my age. They're starting to go to the gym with their dad and stuff. I want to do that too, but, I mean, well...I want to have muscles." You shied away from her eyes, glancing awkwardly to your thumbs.
Your mother was shocked to say the least. "Well, Jim...I'm not sure what to say to that."
"I just wanted to ask your permission before I put any muscle on, cuz it was your body and everything."
Your mom, grateful for your thoughtfulness, reaches up and kisses you. "Honey, you do whatever you want. It's your body now, not mine. If I ever get it back, well, we'll see if your father can't invent something to tone things down. But you need to do something masculine, I understand. You and your father can go start a membership tomorrow!"
And that's how my journey through a wild masculinity started. It was weird though, because my mom had amazing genetics. Her full breasts weren't gone they actually kinda grew. That's probably because I made my pecs pretty big. But I only ever wanted to work on the biceps. And boy did my mom's body change. My arms were massive. I could crush soda cans with them. I never felt more masculine than the day I woke up, looked over, and saw a peak in my arm.
Or feminine for that matter.
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