Story 1: Expecting
A Christian Feminization Story
By Maryanne Peters

I want to tell all sinners and sodomites of the kind that I once was, about the joys of womanhood and motherhood. I confess that I had my doubts, but my parents were worried sick about my soul in the life everlasting. But I now understand. You have to be a parent, or an expecting parent, to truly understand the love that parents have for their own children.

When they sent me to the Christian Feminization Academy, I howled blue murder. I believed in God then as I do now, but I thought of him as tolerant and understanding of my weakness, and I believed that forgiveness was my due. But I was wrong.

My guides at the Academy led me through the scriptures to a true understanding.

“To receive forgiveness God seeks sacrifice,” I was told. “You need to give away what is sinful and be reborn.” That is what the Bible says.

I did what I had to do. I surrendered that which did not belong on a person who desires men, and I took on the form that pleases all men who are true to God’s vision of real me. I became a woman.

Josiah was the man chosen for me. He may not have been the man that David may have chosen to be his partner, but David was guided by demons and thought only of sinful pleasure. Josiah is a good man – a Godly man. He guides me and desires me, because the Academy has taught me how to look good and act in a way pleasing to a man.

He always wanted children, and from the day I married him I wanted to bear his children. But somethings are beyond even the skilled surgeons contracted to the Academy. But prayer (and science) can assist in all things, and the Academy is there to assist me through my “pregnancy” just as if it were the real thing.

Josiah’s sister was prepared act as a surrogate, but of course she can only provide the egg and the womb. The seed of her brother can play no part, for that is a sin. And we both wanted my children to be of my blood. But by the grace of God there are laboratories and test tubes, and fertility experts blessed by God with knowledge and skills. Surely in vitro embryo development and implantation are God’s gift to women such as me.

I pray forgiveness that my last sinful act as a man and a sodomite was to imagine those infernal thoughts so that I could have issue forth from that malignant organ to seed I needed to grow my own family before those infernal genitals were surrendered to God.

Praise the Lord!

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2021

Story 2: New Believer
A Christian Feminization Story
By Maryanne Peters

I am not a believer. I never really believed in God. And if he existed why would he say that only men and women exist? And why must only men and women love one another? We know that is not true.

No, I am not a believer. I am a sissy. Maybe I have always known it, but it was a feeling that grew stronger and stronger in me as I got older. Being a sissy, I mean.

I am not a Christian, or at least I was not before. But then I got to hear about the Christian Feminization Academy. I am not quite sure how. They offered to help men to overcome homosexuality by "persuading them" to become women.

I was not even sure that I was gay, but I was ready to be. I suppose sissies just want to be treated like girly girls. Maybe a woman can do that, but it seemed better if it was a man doing it.

But what seemed better than anything was to be “persuaded” to become female, preferably with some vigor or even force.

Some may judge me – call me odd or even perverted, but that's just me. I know who I am, and I know that this part of me will not change. But as they say at CFA: "We do not try to change what cannot be changed, just what can be.”

I was not ready to go as far as they were talking about. I just liked the idea of being feminized. Thinking about it kept me awake at night.

I read about all about CFA. Parents paid for their sons to be adjusted, but mine were long gone. There were sponsors for some, and there were scholarships for others, and “work to change” plans which involved working as a maid in a Christian household. I liked that idea too.

You had to be a believer. I bought a book about the Bible, and the Bible itself. I read all about faith and the faithful. It did not seem difficult.

So one morning I told my girlfriend that I was leaving. I was giving up my job and seeking my destiny in another place. I was going to become a Christian.

"But you don't believe in that," she said.

That was the last time I ever heard her voice. I was on a new course. I was excited by the whole idea.

“Do you believe in God the Almighty? Do you believe that he sent his only Son to Earth that we may be saved from our sins?. Do you believe in His promise of the life hereafter?"

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Whatever.

They got down to it straight away. I was bathed and shaved, given a shot of hormones and put into a dress. I was instructed firmly on how I would have to behave. I was a woman now. Any masculine behavior would be punished. Feminine behavior would be rewarded.

I was thrilled. It was everything that I hoped for. I threw myself into it. Many of the others found it harder than me. They were more masculine than I was, I suppose. They had their own issues. Being girly might not be in their make-up. It was certainly in mine.

Madam Sharon, Feminization Supervisor and Miss Veronica our Disciplinarian held me up as an example to the others.

“This is what we are looking for!” I was so proud. I strutted and giggled.

I was a little disappointed at first when they told me that my job as a maid at the Haldane household would not go to me – the uniform was adorable! But they said that they wanted to enlist my assistance in the program and suggested that I study Hair and Beauty with Miss Anderson and Fashion with Madam Laura. I loved the idea.

Still, every now and again I would make a deliberate error so that I could receive a cane across my butt – just for fun. But generally I preferred to be the teachers’ pet.

The hormones were having an effect on my body, but I loved it. It made my skin look so good and even improved my hair. But the breasts were delightful. I had wondered if the effect on my sex drive and the inability to get an erection might put an end to my sissy urges, but I have to say that I am not surprised that they did not. In a way my feelings just seemed to affirm that my choice had been the right one. The ultimate sissy existence is to be told that you are really a girl and that you need to live as one, forever.

But that is not really what I wanted. I just wanted the feelings. I didn’t want to lose my nuts and my peenie. So all the talk about surgery was making me feel uncomfortable. Those who came in after me were lining up to be cut, and I was just saying that I was afraid of the pain and needed time.

But I have to say it, the thought of going to the brink started to give me the desire to go there. Not all the way, of course. You still have to sign the consent. CFA operates within the law. You submit to punishment at the beginning, and when you are ready to take the final step there are two good Christian doctors to properly inform you that things are irreversible, and all that stuff.

Still, it fascinated me. It is like standing on a balcony at the top of a high apartment block and feeling something pulling you towards the edge. The allure of the abyss.

How far could I go without falling?

I went through the interview, and before I signed, I asked: “Can I pull out if I change my mind?” And they assured me that I could.

Some of the others had reached the same point. They were all talking about it. Some were stressed by it all and praying. Of course I was one of them, so I knelt with them and watched their faces. We talked too. Mostly they seemed worried that they would not be accepted as women even after the changes to their anatomy. They all said that it would be so easy for me – so pretty and so feminine.

They had no idea who I was and why I was there.

But we were all on the elevator to the top. They were jumping off. I would be riding back down. What did that mean for me? Would my thrill ride be over? Would I go back to my old life and consider these months as the ultimate sissy trip?

I went all the way to the surgery with Geraldine. She was nervous and I was there to reassure her. I agreed to take a shunt in my arm the same time she did, but she would receive the general anaesthetic and I would not. That would be as far as I would go. Even after the drug was injected into the drip line she continued to chatter on about how much she hoped to be a woman reborn without sin. I thought that she would never fade out.

I never even saw the syringe go in above my head. Unlike Geraldine I passed out immediately.

My story from here could be a horror story. The one where a man awakes to find his body mutilated and his future a life of misery in the body he was not supposed to have. There was a bit of that. Maybe quite a lot. But as we say: “Give me strength to accept the things I cannot change”, or things that I cannot undo once they are done.

And the truth is that I have discovered that the ultimate sissy trip is not to walk to the edge, but to wake up at the bottom, and find that all the things that you loved as a sissy you can love even more as a woman.

And for that I have to thank my husband Mark. I said that what I really wanted was to be treated as a woman, and that it would not matter if a woman treated me like that, or a man. But it is better if it is a man. I know that now. And when I lie back and feel his hot seed filling my wonderfully constructed vagina I give thanks to God.

I guess that makes me a believer now.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2021

Irrepressible
A Christian Feminization Story
By Maryanne Peters

This is me now. A virtuous Christian lady married to Matthew, a good Christian man. I follow the code. The ushers at church and the elders who patrol our neighborhood are very strict. Pleated skirts to the knee, blouses buttoned up. Long blonde hair brushed to a sheen. Restrained makeup. But the nail polish might give you a hint. And the smirk. I am a bad girl. I have not always been one, but I am one now.

Oh, I have always been a bit bad. That is no change. It is just that I have not always been a girl.

My parents despaired of me from a much earlier age, but when I became sexually active, they went nuts. Once I discovered that I was gay I just could not get enough sex. They were horrified.

I got the whole “to lie with a man is a sin” thing. Who said anything about lying with a guy? – we were fucking or sucking, or licking or dicking – not lying around.

So, it must seem like every gay guy’s nightmare – to be abducted by people from your own church, then castrated and feminized. The Christian Feminization Academy. They say that they use prayer and persuasion. There is a lot of that, but it was never going to work on me. Failing the whip, it was the knife for me.

But what do these people know about human sexuality? They think Eve sprouted from a rib! What is with this whole de-sexing thing? What is the largest sexual organ? It is the brain. I have still got mine. My sex drive lives in my brain, not in the bits they cut off.

They lined me up with Matthew. He prays a lot, but he has a great cock. I mean, it is big, and with all I know about cocks, I can make it way bigger. It was like he never knew what it was for before he met me. There won’t be any procreation with me, as I explained to him. You cock is for pleasure, and that is something that I know all about.

He talks about our partnership reflecting God’s will or whatever, and companionship, but I just want him inside me.

I am like one of Saint Paul’s widows. You don’t know about them? 1 Corinthians 7: “If they cannot control themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” Well I am married, and I am still burning. And I am setting a fire under my guy Matthew morning and night.

Sometimes he falls to his knees and says some shit about temptation and the devil, but I just give him that look that I am giving you right now, and I say: “Knowing your wife in the biblical way is no sin, my Sweetheart. Now drop that book and come on over here.”

And he finds God like I do, when we cry out His name at the moment of orgasm.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2021

In Praise of Rebirth
A Christian Feminization Story
By Maryanne Peters

I used to believe that my desire to be a woman was a wrong done to me by God. It shook my faith.

Consider this premise: There is the argument that God does not make mistakes - that would be correct, he does not. I was born female-brained with a male body. When sin was introduced to the world, so was death and decay (for example birth anomalies did not exist before sin). I am indeed female. I am just correcting my body to match God's plan for me just as we correct a cleft palate or separate a conjoined twin. Original sin and the discordant biology are intertwined. Perfection ceased with original sin. We are all imperfect beings as a result, and God allows all that follows. Gender anomalies are just another imperfection – something that affects one out of every 364 people on the planet

I want to be perfect for God, or as perfect as I can be. I want to have the perfect body as He would want to me. I want a perfect vagina, and perfect hair, and a perfect smile.

This is not about sexual acts. The Christian Feminization Academy was full of new women who just longed for sex approved by God. Their only concern was to get the changes made so that they could lie down for a man in marriage as they had done in sin before. But I am not like them. I am a woman. If a man wants to take me as his wife, I will be happy, but if I spend the rest of my life in the service of God and my new vagina remains forever chaste, I will be happy to do that too.

Of course, the Christian Feminization Academy prepares us for the carnal aspects of marriage as a part of our rebirth as women – perhaps even a little too much time is spent on that aspect. I have no doubt that I will be able to pleasure my man in private if that is my calling.

And I think myself pleasing on the eye, but that is for the glory of God rather than to attract a man. I wear sensible clothes. Some others who are driven by desire love to put their new breasts on display. I consider that unseemly. I love my breasts. I have always wanted them, not like those others. They are for me. For me and for my husband. They will stay nestled in their cups until the night our wedding when he releases them and fondles them, and all of me.

But that is not my purpose. I am a woman and a woman of faith first and foremost.

By the grace of God, and with the help of the surgeon and the Christian Feminization Academy duly acknowledged, I am reborn a woman. Praise God.

I am available for marriage.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2021

Author’s Note
Thanks to Lacey for referring me to passages of scripture and for recounting her own rationale of her status as a transgender fundamentalist Christian. I hope that she will not be offended by my story as some Christian readers are, but while I may poke fun at the church and its attitude to many trans people, there are Christians like Lacey who have wrestled with these issues and found no conflict with their faith.

Difficult for Fathers
A Christian Feminization Story
By Maryanne Peters

It is so difficult for Daddies … I mean fathers. The church has found the answer to the depravity that is homosexuality, but what thought did they give to the effect that the work of the Christian Feminization Academy might have on fathers?

I never questioned my sexuality. By God’s grace I was given an attraction only to women. It was a strong attraction in my youth and has remained so. But I have been favored by the Lord and granted the joy of a wife who has served me well and brought to our marriage two healthy sons.

I give thanks to Him that my wife has been at all times true to me. My eyes may have wandered, but by the strength of faith and through prayer and cold showers, I have remained true to my marriage vows, for the most part.

I am attracted only to women, but that is the way of things as part of God’s great plan for us all. Men and women are sent to populate and subdue the earth and to praise our Creator.

I have never doubted our purpose, even when he tested me by choosing to play upon my youngest son the curse of homosexuality. It seemed like a curse on me more than a curse on the boy. I asked “why?” Men do question God. Is it a test.

“There is an answer” I was told. “There is nearby a Christian Feminization Academy that can change your son so that he can be included in God’s plan as one of the true and faithful – by changing his sex.”

You must understand that to me I had no second son. The boy was a shameful sodomite. I was losing nothing by what they proposed. I was gaining a daughter. I had never had a daughter before. I had not raised a daughter from a babe as a father should, washed her small body in infancy and seen her slowly become a woman – my daughter. It did not happen.

What happened was that I watched my youngest son mince out of my house one day with a limp wristed wave that just deepened my disgust, and then a few months later a young woman walked into my house – a young, pretty and nubile young woman, who said to me that she only wanted to please me.

My “gay” son was gone, and I was glad of that from the moment he walked out. I praised God for that. But then my wife said: “Glory be, the good Lord has sent us a daughter!” But all I saw was this beauty, in her tight blue dress, wedge heels and her pretty hair in a bow, standing in front of me in a suggestive pose.

“Well Daddy, what do you think of the new me?”

God, oh God! Why have you done this? Why does the blood rush to my loins at the sight of her? Why have you placed in my house such a temptation not just pulling me towards the sin of adultery, but also to the sins of incest and sodomy? Because she is not finished yet. This is only a break from the Academy.

“Don’t worry Daddy, when I come back after the final semester I will have a perfect vagina. I can’t wait to show it to you Daddy. A father should be able to see his daughter’s body. Would you like to do that Daddy? Do you want to wait or would you like to see what I have now. I have wonderful little titties grown all by hormones, but after surgery I will have full sized breasts. What size to you like, Daddy? I can show you what is in my panties right now if you like. I am a girl now. I have no balls but I do have a little peepee. Or you can wait until that is gone. Which do you prefer Daddy? The part-way view or the finished product? You decide, Daddy. I want what you want. I want to please you, Daddy. I did all of this for you. It is you I want to please.

Oh Lord God – deliver me from these feelings of lust!

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2023