Transmaxxing
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It seemed to me that what was said about men was true, if you were a man like I was. I was not born to be an alpha male, sexually confident, dominant and attractive to women. Nor did I see myself as the animal called “beta”, being submissive to men. I was not interested in men. Not then, anyway. I know there was talk about “omega males” or “sigma males” but it seems to me that is just nonsense. I was just a loser – small, weak, pale and sexually inadequate.

There are others like me who call themselves “incels” – involuntarily celibate. The worst of that is that it was a woman who came up with that term. It was to make fun of men like us. That is how far men have fallen – we are the butt of jokes for our weaknesses, directed at us by strong women. You might say that it is justice for centuries of abusive patriarchy, that the male gender is broken for so many of us, but why me?

It is the powerlessness that is so frustrating. Some men like me reacted to being down-beaten by becoming radical self-declared incels. I am not like these people. They react with deep resentment and hostility and become mysogynists – women haters. I don’t want to be that. I don’t blame women. I have always admired women. I blame our culture, or what it has become.

The worst thing about radical incels is the violence. Even if the majority of these people are too weak or shackled by depression to actually do anything, it is the talk about it that is so wrong. And then there have been actual incidents like the Isla Vista killings in 2014 and the Toronto machete attack in 2018. It is horrific. I am a gentle and sensitive person who is deeply offended by these things.

All I wanted to do was to find a way out of this bog of self-pity that I seemed to be stuck in up to my eyeballs, barely able to breathe.

Then I discovered “Transmaxxing”. I had never heard of it before I came upon it on the web, but once I had, it was hard to get the idea out of my head. It was not as if I had to wrestle with the idea of pulling it off – passing as female – I had played around with that just for fun with my sister as kids. She said I was a natural, even into my teens. It was the whole idea of transitioning for profit that should have troubled me, but it didn’t.

The idea is very simple, and it applies to men who are not transgender but who think that have a better chance of success if they are. It may sound crazy, but consider the world we live in.

If it were a pyramid you can probably say that alpha males are still on the top. The second tier is alpha females. Then comes most of the rest including men and women, but you might want to include transwomen in or even above, alpha females. Smart transwomen can have all the advantages of alpha females and a bit more, because of diversity quotas and the like. Oh, and below everyone on this pyramid is us – the losers, of the male sex.

So, online I found the transmaxxing manifesto. Essentially it says that loser males should consider climbing the pyramid by transitioning to become female or at least transwomen. The thrust is that “transmaxxers see gender transition as a revolutionary response to the combination of industrial and biomedical technologies that they feel have eroded the financial and reproductive opportunities previously available to most men” – whatever that means.

But to put it another way, here are the manifesto’s positives for electing to transition for reasons other than gender dysphoria:
“1. The superiority of female aesthetics;
2. Access to the “transbian” dating pool;
3. Full body orgasm;
4. Multiple orgasms by stimulation of the penis/male clitoris;
5. Breast sensitivity – another point of stimulation;
6. Stronger emotions and general happiness on estrogen;
7. Being able to attract cis-lesbians;
8. Being able to attract high quality males (alphas) for sex;
9. Softer skin and less or no acne;
10. Longer life (supported by science);
11. Being able to extract resources from males;
12. Freedom from testosterone fueled reckless behavior;
13. Stop or even reverse hair loss;
14. Better treatment socially;
15. Less likely to get killed (supported by science);
16. Access to cleaner women-only spaces;
17. Cheaper car insurance.”

To this list was added at the top – “Sexual excitement from having a feminine body” which I assumed was to be achieved by looking in the mirror instead of using any of the new stimulus points mentioned. But it was only the first reason above that attracted me – female aesthetics. I just thought that I was a better match. It seems to me that men are all about competition and confrontation, where women are about cooperation and communication. Men are driven by anger and greed, whereas for women it is love and beauty. Gentleness and charm are high values in women but are less important to men who seek to dominate rather than participate.

Even with this essentially feminine outlook I was a failure with women. The fact is that no matter how they might extol their own virtues and criticize men for lacking them, women are not attracted to soft men – men like me. I was quite good-looking, but not in a masculine way. I just seemed wrong that I should miss out on relationships and the love I craved.

I know that some incels are unattractive in the first place, and grumpy bitterness would be unlikely to improve appearance, but that was not who I was. I was not ugly – I might have even been called pretty. But that is not what a man should be.

I guess that I was one of those people who considered myself a man, but I had found that the modern male gender role did not fit. I could never be “a chad” and that macho state was increasingly becoming the male role model. Why not choose a place where I belonged? Why not try transmaxxing?

The starting point is access to hormones and the pathway to transition, and for that I needed to lie. It was simply easier to say that I suffered from gender dysphoria even though I didn’t. It was easier to say that I had always believed that I had been born in the wrong body rather than to try to explain that I had recently discovered that my body was a disadvantage.

I have heard it said that many transwomen support transmaxxers because that is just another aspect of gender diversity and an appreciation of that benefits all, but it was easier to hide my truth just to mix with transwomen in transition as one of them. When you take the hormone shots and go through electrolysis side by side with a transgirl she is not going to ask you – “Are you genuinely one of us?” They just assume you are, and that you have endured dysphoria for your lifetime as they did.

It helps to be with others when you take the first leap from neutral clothing to feminine clothing, or wear makeup or tie up your lengthening hair for the first time. It can be a statement for many, but for me I had no statement to make. I just wanted to find my place. Was it really among women, or among transwomen?

The thing that I learned very early in this open presentation phase, was that my pretty boy looks looked even better as a pretty girl. All of us spent time on our voices and deportment to become passable, but being pretty is beyond that. “Passability” can be easily achieved by some, can be hard for others, and impossible for a few. For them, the defense is always some version of – “I am not a woman, I am a transwoman”, and that is fine. It was not in my nature to be that forthright. I admire those women for their courage. I have always been a passive person rather regard myself as a coward, but it amounts to the same thing. Fortunately, I was able to pass as a woman with shameful ease.

I didn’t even want to show off how pretty I was, thinking about how it might discourage the other trans-girls, but being pretty without even trying makes you even better looking. They call that “natural beauty”. I had always thought that nature had been unkind, but now it seemed the opposite was true.

For a woman, appearance counts for a lot, and so for the first time in my life I felt the benefit of confidence, that was not even on the list of positives I have set out above. But it was very powerful, and it started to change my life.

I had told my employer that I was trans at the very start of my transition, but as I blossomed the HR department arranged for a series of promotions based on the need to fill something called “Management Level Diversity Quotas”. I was seen as a confident and attractive transwoman, who was so clearly a woman that my trans status did not even need to be mentioned. I wondered whether I would not have had such advantages if I had been plain or worse than that. Was this even on the list of things that motivated transmaxxers?

Confidence and attractiveness also brought into play some of the other transmaxx positives that I had not even thought about when I started. You have the list. Item 2: Access to the “transbian” dating pool; Item 7: Being able to attract cis-lesbians; and Item 8: Being able to attract high quality males (alphas) for sex. I had all three covered. People who were attracted to transpeople found me pretty, so did lesbians who thought I was a woman who might be a lesbian, and so did alpha men who also thought that I was a woman who might not be one.

Everybody was interested in me. I went from zero to … a lot of people wanting to know me.

You have to try to understand the effect of all of this on me. In a few short months I had gone from being a nobody who believed that nobody would ever be attracted to me, to an outwardly beautiful person who seemed to be desired by just about everybody. It was like the complete verification of everything in the transmaxx manifesto.

Remember Item 11? It was: Being able to extract resources from males. It sounds awful. What it means is that men spend money to make pretty girls happy, and some pretty girls get happy simply from having money spent on them. It is a fact, and the manifesto is guilty simply of stating it bluntly. I had men offering to buy me dinner or take me to an expensive show or sports event. I had never had anything like that before.

But with that comes the fear of being found out. Perhaps only these incel transmaxxers could talk about extracting resources without discussing the quid pro quo – alpha men want sex, and their “resources” are made available largely to procure that. I think that my quiet nature helped me a little – men who took me out found me pleasant to be with, nice to look at and ready to listen, and perhaps not somebody who should be bedded on a first date. But men like that left me feeling guilty.

It was clear that I was deceiving them and that troubled me. So, despite it being something that might blow up, I decided to reveal to my first serious dater that I was a transwoman. His name was Logan. He looked at me like an adoring puppy. He needed to know the truth.

I would never have dreamed of saying that I was a transmaxxer. It is one thing to say that I can never be the woman of your dreams because I have a penis and no womb – it is something else again to say that I am only dressed this way so that you will pay for dinner. So, in a quiet corner of the restaurant – a public place but where the details of the cause of his eruption need never be disclosed, I talked all about the tragedy of gender dysphoria even though it was a total fabrication.

I remember the look of horror on his face that made me feel for my trans-friends. If they had been seriously attracted to such a good man, and see the relationship destroyed like this, it would be devastating.

But he just said – “Thank you for telling me.” He walked out, but he did pay the bill. I was left there, and I have to say that I found myself sobbing softly. Who would not? Such emotion, even if he was too much of a man to express it, I had felt it deeply.

Or maybe this was Item 6 - Stronger emotions brought about by the estrogen that I had been taking for a while? I quite liked the idea of that. A sensitive person should be able to express their emotions. Now as a woman, I could.

As I sat there, I resolved that I should try to date women, even though my appearance seemed to attract only men. It seemed to me that if I explained that I was a translesbian they would be empathetic, as women tend to be. Men might want what I could never give. Perhaps a lesbian might even think that my sperm could be useful in fathering a child even in a lesbian relationship.

But at that very moment I think I realized that I was attracted to men. It was a revelation because I had always thought of myself as a shy man in search of a woman. I had never hated other men the way that some incels do, fired mainly by envy. But the man who walked out on me had made me feel desired in a way that I had never felt before. His attraction to me seemed to form the same feelings for him.

It occurred to me that three out of the first five reasons to transition in the manifesto were about sex. Could I have sex with a man? Would it be as pleasurable as their document promised? I had to find out.

I thought about calling Logan, but he had walked away, and I felt that he needed to forget about me for his own benefit. Any man would do, so long as they were gentle with me. I had others lining up. It was simply a matter of choosing.

I was worried about being hurt by the act itself, so I looked guides to anal sex online, and decided to prepare myself in advance and on the night I chose. I can’t even remember his name, but rather than tell him that I was a transwoman I decided to be a little more honest. I said that I had been born a boy, and that I would be prepared to offer myself to him for sex if he was prepared to overlook something of my past that remained.

He looked puzzled. He told me that he did not believe me, but this was clearly not some kind of brush off. He said that he was curious, and keen to take the next step. I offered for him to come around to my apartment. It would be easier to throw him out if things got nasty, I reasoned.

In fact, it all went extremely well. I enjoyed stroking his hard body as a woman should, and feeling the stubble of his chin as he kissed my small but girlish breasts, and my now totally hairless face. He was true to his promise to penetrate me slowly and treat me with care. And everything that was promised by the transmaxx manifesto came to pass. His tongue of my nipples drove me crazy. I would not let him touch what I called “my clitoris” but as I tickled its limpness it gave me a very different kind of stimulation. And then I felt the third promise flood over me - full body orgasm.

He told me that I was “one of the best lays I have ever had” which I suppose was a compliment of a kind. It was my first, so how would I know? I only had masturbation to judge it by, and that seemed like nothing at best, and at worst something sordid, messy and lonely.

He left and I looked at myself in the mirror. I was beautiful, and now I had experienced sex as a woman. It didn’t matter that it was anal. I had taken a man and he had taken me as a woman – that seemed to be what I was now.

“Sexual excitement from having a feminine body” had never seemed to apply to me, but it now made sense. “Feminine” was now clearly the body I had, even if it was not female. It was a body that could bring a man to ecstasy. It was thrilling. I had a shower and cleaned myself inside and out, but I was happy. I went to bed and for the first time, I dreamed girly dreams.

I felt different at work. It seemed to me that I was no longer pretending. My gender was now real. All it had taken was one act of sex, but a joyous act.

I started to think about Logan. The man who had taken me to bed was nothing to me, even though what he had done had changed my life. I had that man’s phone number and had said I would call, but instead I decided to call Logan.

I was prepared to have him hang up on me, so I apologized for everything I had put him through before he could do that. I guess it sounded gushy and pathetic, but when I was finished he was still there. I said that I wanted to see him, and he replied that he had never wanted to see me again, but he would – just for a cup of coffee.

When he turned up, I could see that he had feelings for me. His was a face that didn’t show emotions but when it did, they were all over it. He didn’t want to see me because he knew that.

I said that I was a liar, and he could not believe anything I said. When I had told him that when I said to him that I was a woman cursed with male attachments that was a lie, but it wasn’t a lie anymore. I had come to a realization, mainly because of him. I said that the only way I could prove who I really was, was to show him.

“I want us to make love,” is what I told him. I did not want to be pegged as I had been by another man, about whom he didn’t need to know a thing. Making love is different, and I knew that if I wanted to be made love to, Logan was the man I would choose.

He said that he had not been able to stop thinking about me. It was what I wanted to hear.

I suppose that rather than explain all the feelings I had then, and all the joy of that moment and other moments to follow seem almost gratuitous. Suffice to say that we are still together, and we are working through my recovery from surgery.

So, you will understand that this is not the story of a transmaxxer – not really. I might have thought that was what I was when I abandoned maleness for a better life, but in fact what I really wanted was the body I have now. It just took the love of a good man to make me realize it.

I have never met a transmaxxer as the manifesto describes him, because he would always be a him. He is an incel who dreams of getting back on the women who reject him by being better than them and getting back on alpha males by tricking them into free dinners and sex with a rude discovery. But it seems to me that such people could never succeed in what they talk about. How can you pretend to be what you hate? It is just a perverse idea spawned by a sick mind.

Anyway, I have my man and I don’t care either way.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2024

Author’s Note: The Transmaxxing Manifesto is real! Whether true transmaxxers exist or not is open to question. This phenomenon has been discussed in blogs here, but this story was already substantially written when that came up. The example that was being discussed was a young British guy who was gay and was experimenting in presenting as a woman to his existing boyfriend. I have yet to see evidence of a real "transmaxxer" but I could be wrong.