New church.

My family was never what you might call religious. I mean, we owned a bible which my mom would even try to read every now and then, and we would make an appearance at one local congregation or another around Christmas or Easter, but that was about as far as things went.

You can imagine my surprise, then, when I came home after my Freshman year at college to discover that my parents and younger siblings had become totally obsessed with a local church while I was away! It was a new congregation that had popped up a few months earlier. It was small but quickly growing and didn't seem to be a part of any recognizable denomination.

I went along to a few services with my family to try to see what the fuss was all about, and honestly, I didn't get it. The pastor was one-hell of a speaker, don't get me wrong, but the actual substance of his sermons was a bit... off. I was no theologian, so I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I got the impression the religion he was proferring wasn't entirely inline with anything mainstream.

I decided I was done with the church. If my family wanted to keep going, I wished them the best, but I just didn't feel it. When I told them that, the insisted I go one last time and meet with the pastor myself. In the interest of familial harmony, I agreed to their terms.
When I met with the pastor, it was just the two of us in my office. Rather than try to convince me that his faith was true and all that, he just asked me to allow him to give me a blessing. I agreed, not seeing the harm in it. As he laid his hands on my head, though, I felt a strange power running through my body. As the pastor spoke his prayer in a language I didn't understand and couldn't place, my body transformed into that of a young woman!
I was shocked, of course, but somehow my new body felt... right, I suppose, for lack of a better term. I felt like I'd always been a woman, even though I knew that wasn't the case, and even found myself naturally behaving like a shy, soft-spoken girl!
I was also surprised to find that my family was unphased by their son and brother emerging from the pastor's office as a woman. On the way home, Dad explained to me that as a woman it was no longer my place to concern myself with the particulars of the faith. And, of course, I am forbidden to wear any pants and go outside without pantyhose. He'd find a good young man for me to marry from the congregation, and he'd be the spiritual head of our new family. While there was a small part of my mind that was still reeling at what had just happened to me, I found what Dad was saying to be acceptable, and even comforting! I actually wanted to marry a man and let him be in charge and to support him as best I could in that role!
Of course, I have a lot to learn from mom and the other women at church about cooking and cleaning and all sorts of other womanly duties if I'm going to be ready for that when the time comes. But I still have time, and hopefully when my wedding day finally comes I'm be ready to be the best wife I can.

Future pastor's wife.

I was always a fairly religious guy growing up. It made sense considering my circumstances. I grew up in a small town where everybody attended the same church. My parents were very devout, as were most of the other folks in town. The church was basically an ever-present force in my life, and one that always at least appeared to be working towards the good.

When I got older, I began to consider becoming a pastor myself. We'd had the same pastor at our church the whole time I was growing up, and the man was quite the role model for me. He was an amazing public speaker and gave the best sermons! He was really kind and friendly, but also could really lay down the law when he had to. And, let's be frank here, the ability to perform miracles was pretty cool!

Yea, the pastor could perform miracles. And I'm not talking parlor tricks here. I'd imagine you'd like an example? Well, I suppose a good one is the one he performed when I came to him expressing interest in becoming a pastor myself.

When I told the man about my desire to become a clergyman, he smiled and told me that was a very admirable ambition. Admirable, but perhaps misplaced. The man explained to me that his line of work required a certain kind of man. He needed to be faithful and kind, traits which I had, but I apparently lacked the leadership qualities and charisma the role demanded.

Still, the man wasn't going to crush my dream without providing me with a new one. He told me that the role he thought I would truly excel in wouldn't be that of a pastor, but rather that of a pastor's wife!

That's when he performed the miracle. He put his hands on my head, and at once my body began to change. Where once stood a lanky young man, there soon was a beautiful woman. The new me!

It was more than a little strange, suddenly transforming into a woman. In truth, I'm still not entirely used to my new body and still not entirely used to wear only modest dresses and skirts with pantyhose (but you understand, I am, as a virtuous Christian lady, will never put on pants and I will never outside with bare legs!) . I am, however, growing accustomed to the new goal the pastor set for me. A young man recently moved to town intending to apprentice under the pastor, and he has the makings to be as great of one as his master. And I have to admit, the idea of being at that man's side appeals to me. I may still not be entirely used to my new body, but I really am looking forward to one day being that man's wife and the mother of his children! I just hope that I'll be able to help him accomplish his mission as a pastor.

My parents' church.

About a year ago, my parents did something really and truly crazy. They decided to join a cult.

Now, if you asked them, they wouldn't have described their new faith as a "cult." They'd have said it was just another church, albeit the one that they thought was the most "right" amongst all the competing churches. And I'll even admit that the term "cult" is a bit nebulously defined and can be thrown around a bit too readily.

Never-the-less, in the case of my parent's church, the term "cult" really did seem appropriate!

The whole operation was, in my estimate, a cult of personality that centered around the church's pastor, "Pastor Jim." The man was charismatic for sure, but he was also authoritarian and demanding. Over time, he introduced harsher and harsher doctrines, eventually going so far as to insist that everybody who was "serious" about their faith turn over all their earthly belongings and go to live at a commune!

I tried to talk my parents out of doing just that, and even agreed to a meeting with the pastor as a condition for their considering my request. Little did I know that the "meeting" was actually a trap! No sooner had I stepped into the pastor's office than I felt a needle get jabbed into my neck from behind and I fell unconscious!

When I came to, I knew straight away that something was seriously wrong. I woke up back home in my bed, but my body was all wrong! I had been a guy, but I seemed to have somehow transformed into a young woman!

I screamed, and soon my mother was at my side. She explained that Pastor Jim had decided that I was in such danger of damnation that radical measures were necessary. In particular, I was stripped of my manhood and was to be married to one of the church elders, who would be the spiritual head of our new family and help make a proper God-fearing woman out of me, for which only the thought of wearing pants will be sinful!

The funny thing was, I found myself simply accepting my fate vice fighting it. I knew that whatever process had so altered my body had done the same to my mind, and the woman I had become was a compliant and obedient one! I found that I readily accepted the faith of my parents and soon-to-be-husband, as well as my new role in life as a woman, who should wear pantyhose constantly and give birth the babies. In fact, I was almos grateful for what had happened to me. The new me could hardly imagine going back to being the boy I was.

Still there's a part of me that remembers what happened and which realizes that my new thoughts and feelings were forced upon me just like my new body was. I just can't quite bring myself to care. If it's God's will that all that should have been done to me, and I find myself believing that it is, then who am I to second guess the Almighty!

New dress.

Here I am in my new dress for church! Now if I were 3 or 4 inches taller, it would be perfect. As it is, it just sweeps the floor. So when I approach the sanctuary, I will have to lift the hem a few inches so the ushers may inspect and see that I have pantyhose on. No bare legs are allowed in church! The ushers are responsible for enforcing the rules. Many times they have directed visiting ladies that they must run down the street to Target to purchase some pantyhose before they will be allowed in to the service.

I do love this dress! I also wear a tight pantygirdle over my pantyhose as well, so i can tighten the belt all the way in. - Deborah (formerly Max), pastor David’s wife.

Deborah and Elizabeth.

Did you know I am a twin? Yes! Here I am (Deborah - formerly Max - on left) with my twin Elizabeth (formerly Edward). We are both happy pastors' wives now, and they are SO strict with us! It is just what we need, firm discipline.  We so enjoy attending each other’s church when we can! Our husbands like it when we wear these dresses. They have us stand up in the congregation as an example of proper hem length. Skirts and dresses may be no higher than this! The knees must not show! Sometimes they have us lift our dresses to show what is underneath - for education purposes, of course. We show that we have on proper pantyhose, pantygirdles, and full petticoat slips!

From sinful guy to pastor's wife.

I was a very sinful, dirty, unbridled young guy who did not believe in God and always insulted the believers. Naturally, I was close to the top of Rebecca Brown's list of sinful guys to regress into virtuous Christian ladies.
I was kidnapped and moved in Paradise town. Before I could  fight back, the telepaths invaded my mind and began to scrub it clean. All the knowledge of a sinful male life was tossed right out, and along with it went my surly personality. Rebecca had a brand sparkling new one to give me! She transformed my body into fully female and filled my head up with thoughts of skirts, dresses and pantyhose. And made me a devout girl, with unquestioning faith in Christianity. The former sinful guy was now going to spend her mornings sitting in a pew at church, and her afternoons teaching Sunday School! I became a pastor's wife and a mother! And every night, I'd pray and pray and pray some more, in the hopes that Rebecca Brown would succeed in her mission to turn each and every sinful boy into a virtuous Christian lady!

I'd be leading as a woman...

"Aw, honey, you look gorgeous! The guys are going to be all over you tonight!" Mom exclaimed as she looked me over while I stook there awkwardly in the back yard.

 "Do I really have to go through with this?" I asked in a whiny, girly voice while fidgeting uncomfortably.
"Of course you do, dear! Pastor Jeff turned you into a woman precisely because we needed to even out the number of men and women at the church's mixer, and we need you to keep those numbers even!" Mom exclaimed.

'But why do the numbers have to be even? I mean, is it really so horrible if not everybody gets matched up and some of us have to date outside the church?" I asked.

"Yes it is!" Mom shot back without hesitation, "And it's thinking like that that led to your being one of the 'ladies' at this little shindig, I'll point out. What you need is a good man to take care of you and make sure you don't stray from the faith!"

"But I don't want a man to take care of me," I groaned

"I said need, dear, not want," Mom pointed out, "But don't you worry that pretty little head of yours about that. You're all woman now, including your.... preferences, we'll say, for mates. Trust me, when one of the church's strapping young bachelor's takes you under his wing, you will forget all about ever having been a guy yourself!"

I didn't want to forget about ever having been a guy, but I knew Mom was right. The truth of the matter was I didn't really feel like a guy anymore, and obviously wan't doing so good at fighting my newfound femininity. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was dating some guy from church. I'd almost certainly marry that guy, and become a housewife and the mother of his children. I will never put on pants again. I will wear only dresses and skirts with pantyhose like all ladies in our church. And on a superficial level at least, I was pretty sure I'd be happy with that life.
I also knew that I was forced to feel that way, that on some level it was all a lie. But there was nothing I could do about that. All I really could do was try to forget about my former life, and make peace with the new life I'd be leading as a woman...