Crossdress Story Novels & Stories

Now, all at once, it hit me that everything I had given over the years had been nothing more than a one-sided effort. I was just about to book a flight when I realized I had forgotten my ID and passport, so I had no choice but to return home. The moment I opened the door, I was greeted by a mess all over the floor. Leftover snacks were scattered everywhere, along with half-finished dishes left behind. Right by the bedroom door lay something impossible to miss—a box of levonorgestrel pills and a piece of wine-red lingerie. Willow had never liked being physically intimate with me. Even Naomi's existence had come from a drunken incident.

In an instance, a group of girls were eyeing him from afar, and he winked naughtily at them, making them squeal. "Well, apparently they made a crossdressing cafe." Adam spilled. "Wow for real, man?" Taylor spoke in shock, his face twisted into a grimace. "Yeah, but they're not crossdressing and all, just wearing wig and some feminine looking outfits. Not that frilly maid outfit like the ones in the comic, yuck." Adam scoffed. The three of them then guffawed. Not long after that, they reached the cafe. The line was very long that they have to separate it into two lines.

When we returned to the room, however, we returned to reality when our clothes were waiting, raised in the air, and, as if the castle could predict my actions before I spoke, I could see that each dress contained enough pomp to demonstrate that we were going to a very important event. Vraxlon put on the black pants that the castle erected towards him, and buttoned the dress shirt up to an inch below his chest, leaving the muscles above visible to any curious person. By pure magic, his hair dried and was combed, before his prince's crown descended gently on his head.

Aldric, dressed in a sharp white suit, his limited-edition Koenigsegg covered in fresh flowers, stood at the foot of his company's headquarters, the very place where I once professed to him in a wedding dress, 143 times. He looked every bit the groom awaiting his bride, a soft intensity in his gaze as he waited in silence. Truthfully, it was the very scene I used to dream of day and night. My throat tightened, and my nose stung. Beneath the photo sat a brief news caption that cut a little deeper. "This morning, Aldric Cromwell, founder and CEO of Cromwell LLP, appeared outside the firm's global headquarters in full groom's attire alongside a flower-covered luxury vehicle, seemingly prepared

“I see, so basically I look like a freak?” “Let’s see, you need makeup, real boobs, and you have to learn to walk on those heels and you need a wig.” “Fuck!” Valerie laughed. “Not to worry.” She reached for her laptop that lay on the coffee table and opened it up. After searching G****e she said, “look, here is a site for crossdressers. Give me your wallet.”

I searched the internet for help on how to read myself of the curse. The truth found me. I was hungry…not for sex with a man but a specific fantasy that involved three men. I touched myself to videos that played my fantasy, let my mind get creative. It wasn’t until days ago that I found a place in my city. Turns out for a good price, you can live out your fantasies. And now, I was a free woman…ready to walk down the aisle without feeling like a horny wreck. “All done.” the stylist announced. I glanced at my reflection on the vanity mirror..

Ensuite bathroom with a soaking tub. My suitcase sits on the bed, looking pathetic. Everything I own fits in one bag. "The closet will be stocked with appropriate clothing by tomorrow." Lucien stands in the doorway, not entering. "Patricia has your measurements." "Appropriate clothing?" I turn to face him. "You're a Cross now. You'll dress like one." His tone is matter-of-fact. "Designer labels only and nothing cheap." Something in me snaps. "My clothes aren't cheap." I cross my arms. "They're just not pretentious."

Cross could feel the growing damp spot on his clothes and he wanted to explore the place that was currently leaking all over him. He walked her over to the couch and dropped her unceremoniously. She squeaked again as her body bounced on the cushions. "That dress doesn't cover anything. Take it off." He demanded while he stared down at her. She pulled the dress over her head, she also shook her braids free of the ponytail she had been wearing. She sat there naked before him, her large breasts sagged slightly and her pussy had a low patch of dark curly hair protecting it from his lecherous gaze. He wanted to take a closer look. He fell to his knees in front of her.

Worst of all, Elijah seemed unaffected by all this. “We’re heading to town tonight. How do we look?” Elijah asked, twirling to give Croix a 360. “He bought me the dress.” I added, slightly embarrassed that Croix didn’t like it. It was strapless and form fitting, showing off the curves I’d developed in the past few weeks of stuffing my face. “Fuck no, Elijah.” Croix stared at Elijah who smiled yet at him. “You’re going to get back into the fucking house before I put a fucking bullet through your skull. That’s what you’re going to fucking do.”

The box revealed a stunning flowing dress in deep emerald green, paired with delicate undergarments that looked far more luxurious than anything she owned. "Wow... Cross, this is beautiful," she breathed, her fingers itching to touch the fabric. "I’ll help you dress," he announced, standing before her with the garments draped over his arm, his voice leaving no room for argument. "No, that's not necessary," Marceline protested, clutching the towel tighter around herself as vulnerability swept over her. "I can dress myself." His gaze held hers in the mirror, an intensity in his eyes that made her pulse quicken. "I insist," Cross replied firmly, an unyielding edge to his voice. "Let me do this