Female Persona Novels & Stories

Absolute joke. Someone's wife playing dress-up. Embarrassing. Fake Catwoman. Fake Windsor wife. What's real about this woman? That last one hit differently. I put my phone face down and drank my drink and thought about what had gone wrong. The problem was simple. I had thought Catwoman was a persona, a character someone had built and was performing. Helmet, suit, attitude. Something you could study and replicate if you were smart enough and confident enough. I was both of those things. I had been both of those things my entire life.

I then growl, "Who are you? What are you doing in here?" She cowers back but quickly composes herself as she then gets back to her feet, puts her hand on the hip she sticks out at the side and says in a fake and seductive way, "I am Cecilia, daughter of Alpha Beau..." I run my eyes over her. She is very attractive with long blonde hair framing a heart-shaped face, and reasonable-sided breasts, but she is wearing a sexy bra that seems too small. She has a small waist and long legs, but she does nothing for me. As soon as I realized that it wasn’t Yasmine, my arousal died and my hard cock deflated. I fight the headache that Morpheus is giving me from not only being caged but for even looking a

"That you’d…” She faltered, sucked up her courage. “You’d find me ugly. Unsexy. Unfeminine.” “Because of your mastectomies?” “Yes.” She dared to look at him now. “Breasts are… well. They’re a big part of a woman’s sex appeal to men, and without them, I just feel…” “What?” Luke asked gently. “Talk to me. Tell me everything.” “I feel like I’m not a whole woman,” she whispered at last, tears stinging her eyes. “Like I’m half a woman, at most and at best.”

But the contrast of her pale skin, dark red hair, freckles, and pale, almost hidden nipples was an exotic, erotic tableau not easily found. “If people only knew,” she told herself in the mirror. She had another date with George in a couple of hours. Fia wondered what they were going to do. She was excited and scared. She liked that feeling. While Fia had always considered herself open-minded and sexually adventurous, in her heart she knew that, really, she wasn’t. All her partners had always been men. She liked vaginal sex. She only owned one vibrator and no other sex toys. Even her sexiest lingerie leaned toward practicality.

Fingers crossed this will work to my advantage. Once Fenton chuckles and tries to stop the sound that left him, I know I have him right where I need him to be. “God is a woman. Not a man with a long beard and all that bullshit. She’s a woman. And she didn’t die. The reason why I say she’s lost is that she went after one of her fallen angels and didn’t return. She wouldn’t die even if the entire hell rose against her. She’s far too powerful for that.”

Her complexion, a delicate shade of baby pink, hinted at otherworldly origins. In the mirror's gaze, she saw a being that transcended mere humanity. It was a face marked by whispers of ancient power and forbidden allure. Inside, emotions roiled—anguish, defiance, and a fierce longing for acceptance. Her form spoke of a silent struggle against judgment and isolation. The reflection before her was not merely a woman; she was a paradox. In her mother's words, a demon, a shame, or a witch.

Oh dear mate, you wish it was as simple as doubting you. "Why do you think I'm interested in your career and ...hobby," I ask her. "You see a weak human—a FEMALE human taking on male roles. You are being judgmental about my abilities," she states with a steady glare. She meets my eyes the entire time. Not shying from my power in the slightest. "Wrong. I am a wolf. I honor and worship a FEMALE goddess. She is the most powerful being in our world. So why would I doubt a female," I bite out?

she didn't care. "Inhale ... exhale ... don't let that crazy guy ruin my mood completely." The girl rubbed her chest, which was a little prominent, not very average like a land robin. Thin tall slim flat chest. No, it's not. Gadis has an ideal body, although a bit short. 155cm height often makes Gadis insecure but now, why doesn't she love herself? Who would love her but herself?

The tears finally rolled down her cheeks. Crying yet stubborn, she reached for my belt. "I'll examine you—free of charge, no appointment needed—so you, Mr. Righteous, can see exactly what this poor woman could possibly do to men like you!" Her warmth and fragrance enveloped me, her soft sobbing in my ear. Any real man would have struggled to resist this.

I feel bold, and I approach a middle aged female. "Hello. I notice you are dressed lovely. I am not from here, nor familiar with these buildings. Do you know any affordable buildings to buy attire from?" I curse myself for my stiff dialect, but communication with most humans still makes me nervous. "So formal and charming. Yes. That dress is overwhelming my dear. But let me let you in on a secret." Her mouth scratches wide and she leans into my ear. "Everything I wear is thrifted. Bargains, honey. Let me put you on." I grin at her playful demeanor and happily trot along to wherever this alpha lady leads me. Her presence is demanding, and people acknowledge and take note of her as we pass. I