Crossdressing Sissies Novels & Stories

“This is what you will wear for me from now on. When we are alone. This is what you will wear when you serve me. When you worship me. When you are my whore.” He looked at her, his eyes burning with a dark, possessive fire. “Put it on,” he commanded softly. “I want to see my beautiful whore in her new clothes.” With a sense of detached, dreamlike horror, Sofia took off her dress. She unhooked her bra, slid off her panties. She dressed slowly, her movements stiff and awkward. The lace was rough against her sensitive skin. The bra lifted her breasts, presenting them like an offering. The crotchless panties left her exposed, vulnerable. The stockings felt like shackles.

Sissy raised her hand to punch her again but froze when she heard her name “Sissy….let her go” She turned to look at him. It was Macho “Huhnn…” She scoffs, leaving Cassie’s hair. She jumped down from the table “You heard me…let her go “Just like that…but she violated the rules, she needs to be dealt with” Sissy muttered “One more word from you and I will feed your tongue to the dogs” He growled. Her wings fell as she glared at Cassandra who smiled inwardly “I’m sorry boss” Sissy pleaded

Clarabelle replied. Concerned about her attire, Marisa voiced her worries, stating, "But what should I wear? I don't possess any alluring dresses." Clarabelle swiftly reassured her, "Don't worry. I've got an array of enticing dresses that will leave your client utterly captivated." Without wasting another moment, they hurried to Clarabelle's mini closet, which was filled with an assortment of stylish and seductive dresses. Together, they began selecting the perfect attire for the upcoming rendezvous. Marisa was amazed by the choices Clarabelle had at her disposal, and they worked together to find a dress that made Marisa feel confident and attractive.

she gestured at me wildly “...this is illegal. How can one person be both hot and beautiful?!” “Well, as you can see,” Sebastian slung an arm over my shoulder, “with our Noah, anything’s possible.” “For once, I agree with you,” Penny said dramatically. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before I could react. “Hey! What are you...” I started. “This,” she said, shoving the phone in my face. My mouth dropped open. She had just posted the picture on our trip platform with the caption: Cross-dressing is the latest trend.

As the car starts to move, his hands slide around my waist, pulling me across his lap. “Mr. Anderson,” I gasp in fake outrage, as I position my knees on either side of his hips. His cock is already hard, pressed against the thin fabric of this fancy dress he bought me. “Why, this is very improper.” I feign a high-brow accent, and he only just manages to avoid laughing as he catches my mouth in another kiss. “Mm, I had the impression that you liked impropriety, Ms. Cross.” “Maybe,” I admit slowly, wriggling my hips against his, so his cock rubs against my pussy. Shit, at this rate, I’ll soak this lacy thong I put on in no time.

he said. “That’s the point,” I muttered. Lights dimmed. A single spotlight hit the stage. And there she was. They dressed her in glittering black lace. Bare legs. Long lashes. Diamond pasties. She walked like a lamb into a slaughterhouse. The room hushed. Every masked head turned. Whistles. Dirty Italian murmurs. “Santa puttana, guarda quelle tette…” “I’d pay a million just to taste her thighs…” One Italian senator murmured, “Che petto…la voglio per me.” What tits… I want her for myself.

They have glamorized all these things including prostitution. 'Exactly,' Gladys acquiesced. Immoral dressing, prostitution is highly promoted in our films. It is too much. And you know bad ideas spread faster.' 'Mmh, seductive dressing lowers a woman to the low level of a sex puppet. And that is what every girl, every woman should not be.' 'It's not good. Indecent dressing is an assault to the men folk. And it's very unfortunate that it is the men that now tell the women to dress properly.'

Gianna was first in blush-pink sheer lingerie so thin it clung to her nipples like mist her tits bouncing gently with every step her thighs shining with oil as her fingers toyed with the gold straps of her heels Valentina followed right behind in emerald green lace high-cut at the hips her breasts spilling from the tight bodice, her dark curls wild and her eyes darker sucking her bottom lip as she rolled her hips with every step like she already felt his cock inside her Then Sofia last and filthiest violet lace loose around her body no bra no shame, her robe barely tied and already slipping from her shoulders her panties soaked, the dark patch clinging to her pussy lips as she walked like sh

Triss responded and I couldn’t hold back anymore and pushed the door open. Triss was leaning over Jonathan in what I wouldn’t even call clothes, her cleavages were open and the supposed gown she was supposedly wearing if she merely bent a little, I would be able to see her panties. Triss immediately turned to me and there was shock and then she skillfully folded her arms, wearing a mocking smile.

They’re patting each other on the back like any of them actually cares about clean energy or community redevelopment. But nothing is more unnerving than the inanimate number of times I’ve been called “Clarissa” and “Mrs Romano” tonight. I might just gag at this point. Both names get under my skin but I can’t avoid them either. I find my way to the bar. A few eyes tail me as I walk, and I know in my heart that it’s because Teresa and Tweety made me dress like I just walked out of a damn fashion magazine. Red dress, diamond necklace, high heels and a tight bun. A dressing befitting of the wife of the Don. Teresa had even skillfully helped me conceal the hickey on my neck with makeup.