Crossdress Fiction Novels & Stories

Why does he have to say it like that…like this really meant something. Chill out, Nina. It's just dick. My stepbrother's dick. Fuck. I run my fingers through my hair. I hate how it curls up when it's wet. “We have bigger problems than your lust, Mr. Cross.” I turn to him. “I still don't have any clothes.” He pushes off the bed and crosses the room to the giant wardrobe. My eyes linger on his back, on how his muscles ripple under his shirt with each movement. Why does he have to be so fucking hot?

One thing that has confirm the man's identity is the crown hanging on the left column of the bed. "I know crossbreeds has no home they belong to. If you agree..." "Crossbreeds are strong. You people fear me--"Aria made argue hoping to lift up one steel of her prison cell. "Hmm-mm...Yes, yes, yes! But-" The man stands up and went to her again. He raised her chin using his index finger tip and whisper, "Can you defeat an outlaw King?"

I'm not even sure how or when I let out the heavy sigh that escaped my lips. He's not coming. I sigh, looking down at my outfit that now looks ridiculous in my eyes----- I shouldn't have bothered with this. ... I should have known that people messaging you to fulfill your fantasies only happens in books. Sighing again, I stand up from my bed and bend down to take off my thong, pulling it off my leg and angrily tossing it at my wardrobe while walking towards it. Who knows if this was a set up? I think as I remove my lingerie and pull open my wardrobe, dumping it there and taking out a big t- shirt before closing the wardrobe back.

I was dressed in a way I had never been dressed in my life. The cloth that fell around me was heavy and beautiful, a deep gold with threads that caught the light and held it, flowing from my shoulders to the floor in long, perfect folds. My throat, wrists, and fingers were covered in diamonds – not just a few small ones. I mean the kind of jewels that look like they weren't made by human hands, clear and cold and shining with their own light. My hair was arranged with a neatness and care that I could feel even in the dream, pinned and styled in a way that made the back of my neck feel both bare and grand at the same time.

At this moment, Alex walked out after dispelling the spell formation. After asking around, everyone did not have any men’s clothes. The corpses on the ground had them, but all of them were smeared with blood. Alex did not want to wear those clothes either. In the end, Juliette took out a long dress. “Do you want this? I only have this.” ‘Cross-dressing?’ Alex forced a smile and accepted it. ‘A cross-dress is more powerful than a king’s new outfit!’ After wearing the long dress, he really looked a little coy.

“Did he dress you up respectably and fuck you respectably, too? Did you think him any different from any of us after a few caresses and false promises?” The whimper finally leaves my lips and he hardens under my ass. “I’ll keep on your precious clothes while I fuck you from behind tonight. Maybe I’ll let them have at you as well, to remind you what you are and where you belong. Wearing Versace won’t cover all of that filth.” I bite my bottom lip until I taste blood and lipstick and moving to grab a hold of my dress has my hand hitting the strap around my thigh. I stiffen, eyes-widening as I feel the outlines of a small rifle and hostler.

I wanted to see if I could make these two powerful men break under the weight of my own seduction. I pulled the dress from the back of the closet, a garment I had bought months ago but never had the heart to wear while Manuel was fading. It was a liquid fire red, covered in thousands of tiny, shimmering sequins that caught the light with every breath I took. The neckline plunged dangerously low, but the real statement was the back, it was entirely open down to the very top of my tailbone, held together by nothing but the grace of the silk. The slit on the right side spiraled up to my mid thigh, flashing pale skin with every step I took.

As I left the mansion later that night, legs shaky and Damien’s warm cum still leaking from me with every step, the memory of being fucked against the railing while a party happened below burned hot in my mind. I had come here to become a better writer. Instead, Damien Cross was turning every chapter of his book into my real-life corruption. And I was becoming addicted to living dangerously on the page… and on his cock.

“Stand up. Hands behind your head. Let me see what belongs to me tonight.” Adanna rose on shaky legs, obeying instantly. Her body was lush and curvy, hips wide and ass round in a way that made Izzy’s mouth water. She ran her gloved hands possessively over Adanna’s breasts, pinching both nipples until the younger woman gasped sharply. “Beautiful,” Izzy murmured. “So responsive already.” She guided Adanna to the padded St. Andrew’s cross against the wall, securing her wrists and ankles with thick leather cuffs. The position spread her open beautifully—arms high, legs apart, pussy already glistening with arousal.

Story 4 Title: Artist’s Muse Blurb: Lena, an art student, agrees to model for enigmatic painter DamienCross, known for his sensual, provocative work. As she disrobes, Damien instructs her in how to pose, breathe, and expose hervulnerabilities, not just her body. Each session becomes more intense,as their connection deepens into obsession. The canvas isn’t the only place Damien explores her, soon, their bodies and emotions become intertwined in a passionate, reckless affair.