I Walked Into the Gym as Him and Came Out as Her

I think my story is more common than it seems. A lot of us start in secret, trying on a sister’s clothes, a cousin’s, the girl we liked’s—without daring to say it out loud. But that’s a story for another night. Today I want to tell you how I stopped pretending and was born again.

I was always the skinny boy, the little one, the one at the front of the school line because no one was shorter. They called me pretty, the doll-faced one. At twenty-four, I was five foot four, weighed barely fifty-three kilos, and wore thick, heavy brown hair right down to my shoulders. I felt rebellious with it, almost like a rocker. I had green eyes, very pale skin, and pink lips that all the girls envied. And, hard as it is to say, I had a round, perky ass that drew attention without me doing anything to stop it. I also carried one other detail in silence: a small, thin cock with a pink, soft, almost hairless head, more girlish than manly.

My friends made fun of me. My girlfriends, on the other hand, kept telling me I was handsome, but I never felt what I was supposed to feel for them. I wasn’t attracted to their bodies. I was attracted to how they dressed, how they moved, how they were. I looked at them with a mix of desire and envy that I didn’t know how to name back then.

In my group from that time there was a girl I really liked, or so I thought. Her name was Brenda. She was about my height, maybe a little taller, with brown hair and honey-colored eyes. One afternoon, pushed by the others’ teasing, I worked up the courage and blurted it out.

—Brenda, I have to confess something… I like you.

She smiled at me with a sweetness that hurt, hugged me, and said without any filter:

—You’re gorgeous, really. But the only thing I want from you is your ass.

—What? —I laughed, nervous, not knowing what to do with myself.

—It’s perfect —she went on, as if stating the obvious—. It’s the ass every woman would want to have and every man would want to touch.

I was left breathless. And then she dropped the line that would mark me for years.

—A boy prettier than any of us, who weighs less than his girlfriends and is shorter than five foot five… isn’t a boy. He’s a girl. Better yet: from today on, your name is Renata.

My world came crashing down in a single afternoon. I sank lower than I ever had. The worst part was that the news spread, and everyone started calling me Rena, Renita, or just Renata. Every nickname was a laugh disguised as affection, and with each one I faded a little more.

***

The years passed. I learned to hide inside loose clothes, to walk hunched over, to speak softly. I got a quiet job as an assistant in an accounting office, and I convinced myself that going unnoticed was the closest thing to peace I was ever going to get.

Until one afternoon, on my way home from the office, I passed a newly opened gym. The façade was glass, and from the street you could see the warm lights and people moving inside. I don’t know what pushed me. I had never once in my life stepped into a place like that. But that day I opened the door.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, a very tall man, nearly six foot three, with an athlete’s body and a smile that took you apart, came over. He introduced himself with a voice that was firm and kind at the same time.

—Hi, welcome to the gym. I’m Marco, an instructor. Is this your first time?

Welcome. He said it without thinking, like a reflex, and something inside me lit up instead of feeling offended.

—Yes —I replied, hesitating—. I wanted to ask about prices and how everything works.

—Of course. We have monthly memberships, personal training, cardio area, weights, spinning… Want to try today?

I looked at him with an anxiety I didn’t fully understand.

—Yes. I want to start now. But I didn’t bring clothes.

—No problem. We have a shop right here, I’ll walk you over.

***

He took me to a small store inside the gym. Behind the counter there was a girl with a magazine-body, her hair pulled into a high ponytail and a smile that lit up the whole place.

—Daniela, meet Renato —Marco said—. He wants to sign up today, but he needs some clothes.

—Nice to meet you —she replied, with contagious energy—. Let’s find you something comfortable, something that fits like a glove.

She started handing me men’s athletic sets, but everything hung on me. The shirts sagged off my shoulders, the shorts looked like skirts. Daniela frowned, looked me up and down, and clicked her tongue.

—Mm… that’s not going to get us anywhere. Let’s see… how about these? —She pulled out a pair of black, tight, soft-fabric leggings—. They’re women’s, but a lot of guys use them for training. No one judges anyone here.

—Women’s? —I said, uncomfortable, feeling the heat rise to my face—. I don’t know…

—Trust me, they’ll suit you better than anything else. Look, try them on. If you don’t like them, we’ll keep looking.

I went into the fitting room and closed the curtain. I lowered my pants slowly, my hands trembling. There it was, my tiny cock pinched sideways against the white cotton of my briefs, still and unsuspecting of what was coming. I stretched the leggings with both hands, put one foot in, then the other, and started pulling them up over my calves, my thighs. The fabric was thick and elastic at the same time, warm, and with every centimeter I pulled it up I felt it hugging my skin. When it reached my hips I yanked it the rest of the way up, and the cloth settled between my cheeks like a warm hand, squeezing every curve, drawing the line of my ass as if I’d been dressed in a sketch.

I looked at myself in the mirror and let out a gasp. My cock had gone rock hard without me noticing and was standing out clearly against the black fabric, little and round, pointing upward, trapped sideways by the seam. But what stole my breath was my ass: high, round, split in two by the leggings, with those fat, firm cheeks the loose clothes had hidden for years. I turned slowly. In profile I looked even smaller, waist defined, hips wide, ass kicked back. I slid one hand up my thigh and along the inside, squeezing myself. Without thinking I squeezed my hard cock over the leggings, just a brush, and a warm drop slipped from the tip and soaked through the fabric, leaving a dark spot the size of a coin. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. That body in the mirror—that ass, those legs, that swollen little cock—wasn’t a man’s body. It was something else. It was mine and not mine. And I was getting wet in my own clothes like a horny little girl.

I came out of the fitting room almost breathless. Daniela looked at me and her eyes widened. Her gaze dropped for a second to my crotch, then lifted again as if nothing had happened, but with a crooked smile.

—You look incredible —she said, not even trying to hide it—. Everything shows. Really. How do you feel?

The way she said it made my heart stop for a second. Feel? That word again, in the feminine, falling over me like warm water.

—Yes… —I murmured—. I think I do.

—Perfect. I’ll put together five sets with this same cut. I can already tell you loved it —she said, and winked at me.

Then came the shoes.

—What size are you?

—Five —I answered.

—Oof, at that size I only have women’s models. But don’t worry, I’ll find the least flashy ones.

She came back with five boxes. The first ones were too colorful, almost fluorescent.

—Not those —I said, laughing despite myself—. I look like a store mannequin.

—Ha, okay. What about these with purple stripes?

—Neither.

—And these with red details? They’re pretty neutral.

—Those, yes. Those are good.

I put them on and they fit me like they’d been made to measure. Daniela clapped softly, delighted with her work.

***

Dressed head to toe in the new outfit, I walked over to the machines area. Marco was waiting with his arms crossed and that half-smile I was already starting to recognize.

—Perfect —he said when he saw me, and he didn’t miss the chance to scan my body from top to bottom, lingering a second too long on the bulge in front and on my ass—. Let’s get started. Get on the treadmill.

He set it up and the machine started moving smoothly. With every step I felt the leggings tightening more, felt my ass bouncing at a rhythm I couldn’t control, felt my trapped little cock bouncing too with each stride, rubbing against the fabric, getting hard again without permission. Marco glanced at me and didn’t look away right away. In the mirror ahead I saw how the long bulge in his shorts settled along the side of his thigh, tugging at his athletic pants, and how he pressed it with his hand, pretending to scratch himself.

—That’s it, very good —he said, his voice a little lower—. That body deserves to be taken care of.

He increased the speed. My hair flew with each stride, sticking to my sweaty face, and my ass bounced so much I could feel the leggings riding into the crack of my butt with every step. My cock was leaking inside the fabric, dripping along my thigh, and there was no way to hide it. Marco stood beside me and rested a big hand on my waist to “steady” me. His fingers slid slowly, his thumb brushing the base of my cheek.

—Heel first, queen —he murmured in my ear, so close I felt his warm breath on my neck—. Let that ass contract with every step, like this.

He squeezed one cheek lightly with his palm, just on the outside, just for an instant, and I almost tripped. A gasp slipped out of me that I tried to hide under my exercise breathing. He smiled without moving his hand and left it there a few seconds longer.

Then Daniela appeared with a hair tie in her hand.

—So your hair won’t bother you —she said, and before I could answer she’d already pulled it into a high ponytail, brushing the back of my neck with her fingers.

—Thanks —I said, barely above a whisper.

—It looks great on you like that —she smiled, and stayed a moment longer looking at my bare neck.

When I got off the treadmill, my legs were trembling, and not just from the effort. Marco came closer again.

—What would you like to work on first?

—Muscle mass —I replied, trying to sound determined—. I want to look bigger, more… manly.

I said it, and as soon as the words were out they sounded fake even to me. Marco arched one eyebrow, as if he knew something I was still refusing to know.

—We’ll start with the upper body —he said, not arguing—. Follow me.

He took me in front of a wall of mirrors and put a pair of dumbbells in my hands.

—Three sets of fifteen. You can do it.

I couldn’t. The weight defeated my arms by the third rep, my back arched, my shoulders burned. I was about to give up when I heard a soft voice behind me.

—No, queen, not like that. You’re straining your whole body and that weight isn’t for you.

I turned around. It was a huge guy, broad-shouldered and calm, with a smile that seemed to spread calm into the air. There was something sweet in his eyes, something that didn’t judge. Under his T-shirt you could make out a thick chest, and beneath his shorts there was a heavy bulge hanging low against his thigh, the kind of bulge that makes your mouth go dry without meaning to.

—Take this one —he said, offering me a much lighter dumbbell—. Do three sets of twenty, slowly. I’ll keep you company, okay?

—Queen…? —I asked, half surprised, half disarmed.

—Sure —he replied, like it was the most natural thing in the world—. You look gorgeous in those leggings, by the way. My name’s Iván.

He picked up a huge dumbbell without the slightest effort and started counting my reps patiently. On the third one he moved in behind me, very close, to “correct my posture.” First I felt his warm chest against my back, broad as a wall. Then he planted both hands on my waist and gently pushed me back to align my hips. With that push, he pressed my ass against his crotch. And there it was: a long, thick cock, hard as iron, trapped inside his shorts, fitting perfectly between my cheeks over the fabric. I froze. He didn’t move either. He only squeezed my waist a little more with those huge fingers.

—Like that, still —he whispered in my ear—. Lower the weight slowly. Tighten your ass when you come up.

I obeyed. Every time I clenched my cheeks, I clenched his cock too. I could feel it growing between my ass cheeks, riding up the crack, pressing through the leggings. I started leaking at the tip again, a warm trickle that stained me in front, and I didn’t care. With each rep I moved a little more against him, a rocking motion disguised as exercise, grinding like a bitch in heat while he counted in a low voice: “fifteen, sixteen…” with his breathing getting shorter and shorter.

—Very good, queen —he panted—. Put the weights down. Come on, there’s a little stretching room in the back.

I set down the dumbbells and followed him with trembling legs. He led me to a small room in the back, with mats and mirrors wall to wall, and locked the door. He turned and looked me over, and there was no longer any doubt about what was going to happen. His cock was straining hard, pointing at his navel, pulling at the waistband of his shorts.

—Come —he said, sitting on a mat with his legs open—. Get on your knees.

I knelt between his thighs without thinking. He yanked my shorts down to my knees, and the biggest cock I had ever seen in my life sprang free: thick, brown, with swollen veins throbbing and a bright red head wet with pre-cum. I stared at it open-mouthed. He took my hair, the ponytail Daniela had made, and pulled my face close.

—Open wide, queen —he said, not exactly commanding, but leaving no room for refusal—. Suck me slow.

I stuck out my tongue and ran it over the head. It tasted like salty skin, clean sweat, man. I licked the frenulum like it was a melting candy and he let out a deep groan that rose up inside me. I took the thick head into my mouth and started sucking slowly, learning. He held my hair firmly but without hurting me, setting the rhythm.

—That’s it, that’s it, my queen… look at me while you suck my cock.

I lifted my green eyes to his and took him deeper, feeling the thick tip settle against my palate. My chin was dripping, strands of saliva falling onto my top. I started sucking his cock hungrily, up and down, with both hands at the base holding what wouldn’t fit, and he kept whispering filthy things in my ear.

—You’re a gorgeous little cock sucker, Renata… look how my cock fits in your mouth… take it all.

He pushed me to the back of my throat, just a little, and I arched without breathing. My eyes filled with tears and I kept going anyway, sucking harder. I felt a drop of precum land on my tongue, salty and thick, and I swallowed it like medicine. He pulled back suddenly, panting.

—Stop, stop or I’m going to cum. I want to fuck you.

He put me face down on the mat, ass up, and pulled my leggings down to my knees. The cool air hit my bare cheeks and my little cock leaking in front. I felt his broad tongue licking me from bottom to top, from my perineum to my hole, and I screamed into the mat. No one had ever touched me there before. He spread my cheeks with those huge hands and drove his tongue into my hole, probing, coating me in spit, sucking me like I was a real pussy. I writhed, clutching the mat, moaning in a high voice I didn’t recognize as my own.

—What a delicious little ass, queen —he whispered between licks—. What a gorgeous slut’s ass you’ve got.

He slipped in two thick, saliva-slick fingers and opened me slowly. It burned and I liked it at the same time, that mixture I would later learn to crave. He pushed, twisted, scissored, and when he decided I was ready he moved in behind me. I felt the thick head of his cock press against my hole, warm, slick with saliva and precum.

—Breathe, my queen. It’s all going in.

He pushed in slowly and I let out a long moan. He opened me wider than anything ever had. I felt every centimeter of that thick cock sinking into me, stretching me, burning me, filling a void I hadn’t known I had. When he drove all the way in and his balls bumped my perineum, something broke and something came together inside me at the same time.

—Oh… oh God… —I moaned into the mat.

—It’s in already, queen. All of it. See how well you take it?

He started moving. Slow at first, letting me feel every withdrawal, every push. Then faster, until his hips were slapping my ass with a rhythmic slap, slap that filled the room. He grabbed my ponytail and yanked my head back, arching me, fucking me from above with that huge cock as if I were a rag doll.

—Look how I’m burying it in you, Renata. Look how I’m opening you up. This ass was made for this.

—Yes… yes, it’s yours… —I babbled, not knowing where the words came from—. Fuck me, fuck me hard…

He drove it in to the hilt and pulled it out almost all the way, only to plunge back in. I grabbed my little cock with my hand, hard and tiny between my fingers, and jerked it to the rhythm of his thrusts. In two minutes I was close, legs shaking, eyes rolling back, squeezing his cock with my ass like it had a life of its own.

—I’m going to cum… Iván, I’m going to cum…

—Cum, queen. Cum with my cock inside you.

I exploded. A hot shiver shot up my spine, my little cock convulsed in my hand and I spilled a warm spurt of semen onto the mat, moaning high and sharp like a woman. My ass clenched in spasms around him and that killed him.

—Ah, fuck, queen, I’m cumming inside…

—Yes… fill me, fill me all the way…

He drove his hands into my hips and thrust three more times, brutal, all the way in. I felt his cock swell and burst inside me, hot ropes of thick semen filling my guts. Every throb of that cock was a warm surge climbing through me, and I trembled, ass full, his load sloshing between my cheeks.

He stayed still on top of me for a long moment, breathing into my nape. He kissed my shoulder, my ponytail, and slowly pulled his cock out. I felt a warm thread running down the inside of my thigh. He pulled my leggings back up carefully, still smeared inside, and fixed my clothes with a tenderness I hadn’t expected.

I came out of that room with jelly legs and a pounding ass, with his cum sloshing inside me with every step. I stood in front of the mirror wall in the weights area: hair pulled up and tousled, cheekbones flushed, lips swollen, eyes shining, my body outlined by the clothes, the girl’s name I’d been carrying since adolescence and that here, at last, didn’t sound like an insult.

For the first time in years, in that reflection I didn’t see the pretty boy everyone used to laugh at. I saw someone who was beginning to exist. And, I confess, I liked what I saw.

—You’re doing very well, Renata —Iván said, coming up behind me, even though I had never once told him that name.

I didn’t correct him. I didn’t want to. I let him call me that, let the word wrap around me the way the leggings wrapped my body, and I felt something in my chest loosen after years of being tight.

That was my first day. The day I walked through a glass door as him and, without realizing it, started coming out as her.