Crossdressing Villainess Novels & Stories

She picks black and white striped stiletto heels and serpent jewelry, taking them into the dressing room. I wait, thinking and searching for a tangible reason I'm letting her into my space. Then she steps out, dazzling like something that descended briefly to observe the affairs of the earth. She has let her hair down, and we accidentally lock eyes as she tucks her hair behind her ear. Her familiarity… she reminds me of my grandmother and my mother. That same expression, like we are all simply passing time before death, that quiet confidence, I understand it now. “Do you like it?” she asks giving a little pose.

JENNA I see her the moment she comes around the corner. Vivienne Cross. Five years older and exactly the same — the careful beauty, the composed posture, the quality of someone who has spent a long time learning how to be looked at and has mastered it completely. The ivory dress. The camel coat. The heels that are chosen rather than worn. I know immediately that this is not accidental. Nobody ends up on the twenty-eighth floor of Vale Industries by accident, and Vivienne Cross has never done an accidental thing in her life.

The music thumped softly through the walls of the downtown loft, a low, sensual bass that made every step feel like a heartbeat. The afterparty was invite only, exclusively for the underground cosplay elite where latex, silk, and fantasy collided behind closed doors. Camille stood by the drink table, dressed in a crimson villainess bodysuit that barely hid her curves. Her thigh-high boots clung to her like a second skin, and the black leather gloves gave her the sharp allure of a femme fatale. Her deep red lipstick matched her mood: hungry.

It was more like an insult that is punishable by execution. They showed their ridicule at her seeing how powerless she is compared to their kingdom. Though it was true that the sovier kingdom is powerless and small compared to them. But it doesn't mean that they can't fight back. After all, it was Alisha the villainous who was ruling the kingdom. Not only is she capable of ruling she was able to tame the wild and powerful man like Macbeth. Who was known as the king of evil in the arena.

She held a limited-edition, pink, diamond Guerlain lipstick case in her left hand. Meanwhile, she used her right hand to carefully re-apply lipstick on her lips using the lipstick case’s mirror. The lipstick was a bright red color. Coupled with the intricate makeup on her face, it made her entire appearance unusually seductive and alluring. If Xyla Quest was like a fairy from above, this person was like a demon fox in the human world… This woman’s every move and smile held the very essence of seduction and elegance… She wore a bright red, tight-fitting dress that ended at her knees, perfectly accentuating her sexy figure.

Vampires are not very creative with names apparently. She was grateful that a dress, crimson red hobo dress with a sheer lace design around the shoulder and sleeves. It was beautiful but the colour was basically putting a bullseye circle for her amid Vadim’s followers. Not only they are loyal to Vadim, but they find her presence annoying seeing she is also connected to Armand, their leader’s enemy.

Another produced gold stilettos sharp enough to use as a weapon, the third held a velvet box; emerald drops that matched the dress, heavy enough to bruise. They moved around me without speaking—the silk did the talking over my skin, cool and dangerous. The dress hugged every curve, the slit flashing thigh with every breath, they twisted my hair into a low chignon, left a few strands loose to curl against my collarbone. The makeup was minimal: my skin was like porcelain, lips were red as fresh blood, eyes were lined sharp enough to cut. When they stepped back, I looked like money and murder wrapped in desire. Damn! I looked like Diavolo’s woman.

"This place has definitely seen a fistfight." A bored-looking saleswoman glanced up from her phone. "Can I help you?" "Yes. I need the ugliest dress in this entire establishment. Like... make-it-stop ugly. Like, 'she's not okay' levels. Think fashion felony." The woman blinked slowly. "...We have a clearance rack in the back." Thirty minutes and several horrified gasps later, Deja emerged from the dressing room triumphant. "THIS. Is my villain fit," It was neon yellow, covered in sequins that twitched in the light like they had opinions. The neckline was so low it was practically whispering state secrets. The hem was jagged like it had been attacked by raccoons.

It was suffocating. They returned to the wardrobe, pulling out another outfit-this one a deep crimson with elaborate beadwork cascading down the front. "How about this one, my lady?" Ipu asked. Carmen squinted at the dress. "It looks like something only Maleficent would wear." "My lady?" "Never mind," she muttered. "Just... try it."

She'd finish him off before the next one comes. There was one thing about having to dress up into a nice lingerie and making up before killing her rapists. She loves looking beautiful as she killed them. So they would know she wasn't the Selene they had raped and left to rot in a dumpsite. She took one final look at herself in the mirror and giggled. Beneath her lingerie she had a gun strapped to her thighs if ever he acts funny. She sucked in her breath before walking out of the bathroom. The first guy she had found sat on the bed and was clad in only his boxer briefs. The last hadn't arrived yet because she had texted a different time for him, enough time to get rid of this asshole.