Feminine Desire: a monk who failed to be a nun

  • Title: Feminine Desire
  • Subtitle: a monk who failed to be a nun
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Category: transgender suspense, mtf

Fabian is an 18 year old monk living in a secluded monastery at Montserrat. He lives according to the dictates of poverty, obedience and chastity. Ever since he was 10 years old, Fabian has experienced an overwhelming desire to dress and behave like a girl. Since his mind perceives such desires to be a sin, he has suppressed them.

When Reverend Jovel, the head of the monastery, requests Fabian to accompany him to Barcelona where he is to give a discourse, Fabian obliges. During the discourse, Rev. Jovel develops a sore throat and asks Fabian to fetch him ginger from Santa Caterina Market. He stops at a café for coffee. The guy at the counter decides to play a practical joke on the young monk and mixes a drug in his coffee.

Fabian starts wandering the streets of Barcelona. He gets lost and finds himself in the notorious area of El Raval in the night. He spots an over-made up woman called Reneta (evidently a prostitute) and asks her for directions to his hotel. The kindly Reneta obliges. Subsequently, she happens to be murdered. And the murderer has seen Fabian…

Fabian’s life is now in danger. He is forced to be disguised as a woman and call himself “Flavia” to protect himself.

Will Flavia be able to escape the clutches of Reneta’s killer, who turns out to be a political big wig?



Feminine Desire
a monk who failed to be a nun
by Yu Sakurazawa

Chapter 1 – The Beautiful Monk

I sat in my black smock watching the hustling tourists. Many tourists came to our monastery, situated atop the relatively secluded rock mountain of Montserrat. They ostensibly came to see the statue of the Black Madonna, but it wasn’t unusual for them to stand and stare at me for the longest time. At 18, I had got rather used to the unflinching, adulating stares of men and women alike.

The other monks told me that this was because of my extraordinary beauty (if the term can be applied to a young man). By my late teens, I had grown up to be 5’8, had a sculpted body and a chiseled feminine face. My hair shone like black gold and my lips were red and full. But the other monks told me that people were mesmerized by my “intense dark eyes”.

I’d lived in the monastery since I could remember. Apparently, Reverend Jovel, the head of our monastery had found me as a baby, abandoned at the doorstep of the monastery. I was immediately given shelter, looked after by the monks and raised to be one. It was the unspoken assumption that I was the illegitimate child of some local woman who didn’t have the courage or the means to raise me. However, I preferred to believe that I was the son of the princess of some exotic, far-away land…

I was committed to the vows of poverty, obedience and chastity. I rose early in the morning and read the bible. Then the other monks and I attended a common prayer. We also served the poor and the underprivileged. We supported ourselves by making sweets and running a confectionary shop for the tourists. Since monks believe in renunciation, we ourselves didn’t eat anything fancy. We lived on soups, stews and vegetables. We sung in the choir. Except for chatting up an occasional tourist, we had no contact with the outside world. The Reverend prohibited us from reading the newspapers or watching the television, as he believed that the “ugly” external world should be kept away from the beautiful inner one, as much as possible. As a rule, monks were not supposed to own anything. Except for the gift of beauty, I didn’t own a thing in the world.

I truly believed that even a leaf couldn’t tremble without the will of God. I had surrendered myself entirely to His will. However, my devoutness wasn’t entirely untainted. Since the age of ten, I had strange desires….the desire to dress, talk and behave like a girl. I felt the fervent urge to grow my dark hair long and let it frame my heart-shaped face. I felt tempted to buy a lipstick and outline my luscious lips with it. I wanted to play “doll games” with the little girls living in the region. I wanted to marry, have a house and kiss my husband. But these were very wicked thoughts! If God had put me in a male body, I was supposed to devote myself to Him as a male servant. Or perhaps, I wasn’t supposed to think of gender at all. I was expected to think of myself just as a vessel created for the service of God and to aspire for union with Him.

I had long suppressed such unholy thoughts. Yet they raised their ugly, persistent heads every once in a while. I put in more hours of prayer, toil and service as penance. Yet the monkey mind refused to get diverted. At times, the urge to dress like a woman became so overwhelming that I wanted to take my own life. But by contemplating suicide, I had committed yet another sin. Christian monks sincerely believed that since God created life, it was only He who could take it away. Even thinking of taking one’s own life was sinful.

One day, as I was trying to pacify my restless mind as usual, my friend Antonio came into my quarters. He was a short, squat monk of about my own age.

“Reverend Jovel has summoned you” he said “He wishes to see you immediately”.

Bells of panic rang in my heart on hearing the word “immediately”. Why did Reverend Jovel want to see me immediately? Had he finally got a whiff of my sinful thoughts? Was he going to chastise me for being disobedient to God?

With a hammering heart, I walked into the vicarage.

Reverend Jovel was sat at the chair by the window. He was a tall man, with pepper and salt hair, and a pince-nez on his large nose. “Good morning, Fabian” he said on seeing me “it’s good to see you”. He indicated the seat opposite him, gesturing me to sit. My heart calmed down a bit. If there was anything wrong, Rev. Jovel’s voice or demeanor didn’t give it away.

“Likewise, father” I said reverentially, before taking my seat. Even though nervousness had left me, I was still impatiently curious about the reason for being summoned. The inquisitiveness must have showed on my face as Rev. Jovel said:

“I better get to the point without having you guessing. Fabian, would you like to accompany me to Barcelona for a few days?”

Barcelona was just an hour’s drive away from Montserrat, but I had never had the opportunity to visit the city. I felt excitement stirring deep down within me.

“Sure” I said smiling “but for what purpose, father?”

“The Institute of Spiritual Sciences is having a seminar in Barcelona” said Rev. Jovel “they are having spiritual leaders of various faiths over…Buddhists, Hindus and various sects of Christians. They want me to represent the Baptist community”

I listened attentively, nodding at periodic intervals.

“By God’s grace, I’m hale and hearty” continued Rev. Jovel “But I’m nearly 68 years old. I need a young disciple to accompany me. He needs to help me carry my bags, run small errands etc. Since you have had good stamina from childhood, I thought I’d take you along. What do you say?”

“Certainly, father” I said trying not reveal the excitement I felt on the inside. I had this intuitive feeling that this trip was going to change my life.


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