Crossdressing Villainess Novels & Stories

Not long after, a loud raspy voice vibrates into the room. "Yuan Zi Yan!" Xiu Ying enters the room with two others. A middle aged lady enters the room furiously, followed by an older man. Yuan Zi Yan? What's with the name similarities? I swear I have used these names for my novel before. In fact, I chose that name specifically for the villainess in my story. The beautiful lady from earlier, who I assume is my younger sister, backs up from the scene. After putting on a melancholic expression, she rests besides Xiu Ying.

Her eyes were sharp and terrifyingly intense as she stared at me and Alistair. My mouth fell open at this bizarre situation. But I recognized her at a glance. Holy shit! She's my fellow villainess, Primrose Stella Antebellum, and my brother's fiance. She's truly a beauty, but unlike Bella, her sharp gaze and cold expression makes her looked pretty scary. The author seemed to want to make it obvious that she's a villainess. I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't notice she already stood in front of us, and suddenly she pulled me up from my seat, separating me from Alistair.

" Looked at how fair and smooth her skin it!" " She such an angel! Am pretty sure that the crown prince wouldn't be able to take his eyes of her!" Taika really wanted to roll her eyes at the compliment the set of maids were throwing to her; Despite they were the same people who bullied and insult the previous villainess. She stared at the mirror and couldn't help but admit that the villainess indeed looked gorgeous and beautiful in the sliver glown. The compliment were getting too much that she had to drive the maids out of her room change to her usually light green glown and sit on the swing next to her window.

The night Cassian Arden met Seraphina Laurent. The night Elena Vale became the villainess. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table. Because she remembered. Every chapter. Every humiliation. Every death flag. She wasn’t in her world anymore. She was inside a novel. A bestselling romance story she once read during chemotherapy nights before everything went dark. And she had become the character everyone hated. Elena Vale. The obsessive fiancée. The “villainess who burns at the end.” Her legs weakened. She almost laughed.

Throwing myself into work, and everything that came with it. From a peripheral peek, I saw her drag down the end of her dress like it was supposed to miraculously increase the length, and she tried repeatedly. I almost smiled at how adorable she looked, I had chosen the short gold armless dress on purpose and almost lost my speech capacity when she walked out wearing it. It hugged her perfectly around her chest and waist, making it impossible to ignore the curves that hid underneath its fabric. Her hair fell over her shoulder complementing the dress. She wore a pair of matching heels I had gotten alongside which made her look taller. The dress exposed a little bit of her cleavage and I saw h

I held my hands before me, one half of the brush in each palm. For a moment, I let myself see past the glamour that concealed the tattoo on my right hand and forearm. The markings of my true heart. My true title. High Lady of the Night Court. Half a thought had the broken paintbrush going up in flames. The fire did not burn me, even as it devoured wood and brush and paint. When it was nothing but smoke and ash, I invited in a wind that swept them from my palms and out the open windows. For good measure, I summoned a breeze from the garden to snake through the room, wiping away any lingering tendril of smoke, filling it with the musty, suffocating smell of roses.

"But Richard Cross called me this morning. Made me an offer I couldn't refuse." My stomach drops. "He got to you." "He got to me. Offered me everything I want—money, social rehabilitation, a seat on my father's board—if I hand over the evidence and disappear. Let him handle you his way." "And you're going to do it." "That's what I thought. What I planned to do." She takes a long drink. "But then I realized something. Richard Cross is the real villain in this story. Not you. Not even Damien. Him. He's the puppet master pulling all our strings. Making us destroy each other while he watches."

Their warnings only seemed to amuse Queenie even more. "Well? Did you hear them?" she sneered. "Get down on your knees right now. Put the ring on my finger respectfully, then crawl out of here. Otherwise…" Her eyes turned cold. "You'll end up just like the man who dirtied my dress."

A chant not for her, but against her. “Villainess. Villainess. Villainess.” Seren’s stomach turned to ice. They weren’t wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She had just hijacked the heroine’s story. Kael leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, his voice pitched only for her: “Let them chant. A villainess…” His thumb brushed the line of her jaw, possessive and reverent. “…is far harder to forget than a saint.” The System hummed in satisfaction.

Around her, eleven other senior executives — all women, all ambitious, all beautiful — were stripped completely bare and arranged in a wide circle on their knees. Victoria Nyxar moved through them like a dark goddess of corruption. She wore only a tailored black blazer left open to expose her full, heavy breasts and her own monstrous futa cock, thicker and longer than any of theirs, already knotted at the base and dripping with power. In her hand she carried a thick leather strap-on harness fitted with a monstrous ridged dildo almost as big as her real cock.