Crossdress Novels & Stories

Candor appeared in the doorway. Her black sandals had been replaced by red pumps, with slightly higher heels. Her black dress was now replaced by a red one, a much shorter red one. On a shorter woman, the dress might have made mid-thigh, but on Ms. Candor it was perhaps two inches below her crotch. The dress was made from scarlet stretch mesh, apart from the spaghetti straps over the shoulders and a V-shaped panel of lycra that started over her nipples and dropped down to cover her pubic area. She stretched up her arms once more and turned. The shoulder straps joined between her shoulder blades where a strip of Lycra ran down her spine to cover the crack in her buttocks, all the rest of the

My mother and I were their very special customers so they gave us special attention anytime we came there. "Miss Greene? I'm Arlene Bryan." I said with a frown. It was so frustrating to be called by the same surname as that I'd my mother's father (my grandfather that I had never seen). "Oh, I'm so sorry." She apologized with a polite smile. "No problem, just don't do it next time." I replied in an equally polite manner. "Okay." She smiled. "Please, what are you here for?" "I want you to get me the best cloth of all, any cloth I can wear to go on a date… to the movies."

This was new. ''Mr Cross,'' I opened my mouth to speak but my voice betrayed me. His name on my lips came out as a plea rather than a warning. ''Wear this.'' He handed me the dress he held. I took it and turned on my heels before any other thing would happen. Because I wanted more, more of his touch. Ethereal. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror again. Perfect. The dress was ethereal. It was a deep wine colored dress made of pure silk. Comfortable, with a slit that ran from my thighs below. My whole back was bare and the dress ran down from my waist.

They could only be present for cheering on the racers, which was why I have to cross-dress. As soon as the clock struck 12, I got up and tiptoed towards Krystal’s room. Only after I was sure that she was fast asleep did I go back to my room. I removed a small suitcase that hadn’t been opened in a long time from the closet. Inside were some male clothes I had purchased years ago. I took out black pants and paired it with a black tee. Because I have a curvy bust, I needed to wrap it with three to four layers over to make it appear flat.

By evening, I was too restless to go home, so I gathered a few files and decided to find a café where I could lose myself in work. As I passed Central Park, my thoughts returned to him, circling the same question again and again, what if I had spoken up sooner? What if I had not waited for the perfect moment that never came? Then something in a nearby shop window caught my attention. A sign read: EXPLORE YOUR INNER ESSENCE: TOTAL TRANSFORMATION STUDIO Beneath it, in smaller print: Professional services for cross-dressing, gender expression, and personal transformation. I stared at the display. Two mannequins stood side by side, one dressed in a sharp suit, the other in a flowing gown. Their

The dress I wore was so thin and small that I almost felt their eyes watching my privates. "She looks like full of juice," Kruz's comment made me look away in disgust. I wouldn’t have worn this dress if it wasn’t for the ritual. "Lift up your dress," Kruz came in front of Prince Conrad, who hadn't spoken a word till now. "I said grab your dress and lift it up all the way to your bre**ts," Kruz was shamelessly licking his lips as he kept mumbling to me. Every step he took near me resulted in me taking two steps backwards.

But if that is what he wants to see me in, then why not? I take the swim wear from his hand with a smile, disappear behind the curtain and hurry to get undress. One part of me is hoping that he would come back here so we could fuck, but I guess we have to have respect for these people and their store. When done, I go to show off body and the tiny clothes that are covering my private areas. Mr Cross runs his eyes over my body with a look of approval. And I do a little twirl. "Good, let's go."

I packed it into a neat ponytail which went all the way into a tiny doughnut style also, to make me look less feminine. My face was angled and sharpened without makeup, I was wearing the disguise of a young man who just wanted to win the Alpha duel, all straight lines and serious intent. Yet, underneath the starched collar and the weight of the wool, I knew I was still me, the lady with the long hair and a heavy heart. I stepped out of my room to see Ash and Cruz waiting for me also. Cruz. He was in a suit of a dramatically different colour, rich, deep forest green and unlike the severity of the navy, his jacket was cut with a slight flair, something that suggested a confident, almost casual

However, I had to set a clear example for him to follow. Insulting me would be more like insulting Frederick’s choice. “I hope you’re aware of why you're here.” “Of course, Lady! Just like other years, Silver Cross Pack is going to distribute uniforms of all the omegas,” he answered. “Great then. Please show me a sample of the clothes that you’ve brought.” With that, he presented me with a selection of fabrics and their respective prices. I gave myself a mental pat on the shoulder, as I was already aware of this type of fraud.

“But Estrean’s fashion industry embraces diversity in beauty, in expressing oneself through what one wears.” “In regional Estreau there are places and people where it is commonly accepted that the people have not two, but many genders,” she told him. “Not just male and female, but also those who are both and neither. Much of the fashion that you see on the young explores this history, where clothing is no longer categorized as male or female by whether there are trousers or skirts, lace or leather, but is seen as an expression of the person within the cloth.” “Concordian women have long worn trousers.”