"Very well" said the Duchess of Chelia, "If my husband only loves boys, then I will be a boy!" The twenty-year-old Duchess was weary of her husband's collection of beautiful painted boys (boys was a stretch--the Duke preferred feminine men in the late teens and early 20s) and his refusal to visit the marital bed after the (disastrous) wedding night three years ago. The Duchess had been told a wife's role was to please her husband and bear him children, but these two considerations seemed to be pulling in opposite directions. Well, she couldn't be expected to care more about an heir to Chelia than her husband did, which was, judging by his actions, "not at all."
The Duchess's beautiful closed coach pulled up in front of the Temple of Divine Manhood. "This won't take long" said the Duchess to her coachman and guard. The doors opened for her by themselves. Without hesitation the Duchess entered. The room was empty except for a bronze statue that the Duchess, an excellent judge of art, would describe as "crude." It was of a male figure, with the specifically male features--penis and testicles, beard, and muscles emphasized. The Duchess took out the tiara, a wedding gift from the high prince, that she intended to use as the sacrifice. Hmm, there wasn't an obvious place to put it, an altar or anything, so she laid it at the feet of the statue.
In a flash the tiara disappeared. Startled, the Duchess took a step back.
Except she wasn't the Duchess any more. In front of the statue stood a beautiful boy, made up with painted fingernails, just the sort the Duke liked. So feminine were his movements that the former Duchess, whose mind was unaltered, had to check between his legs to make sure the transformation was complete. Yes, there it was, my new lifetime companion. At least I won't be sitting on the chamber pot quite so much any more. After thanking the god, he made his way back to his (unsurprised) coachman and set out to return to the Chelia Palace.