Femboy Outfit Novels & Stories

Josephine Carter is drowning. Her mother’s medical bills are piling up, her bank account is a disaster, and the only professional outfit she owns is her mother’s ancient pantsuit. Becoming a surrogate is her last chance to save the one person she loves most. But on the morning of her evaluation, Jo crashes her tank‑of‑a‑sedan into a shiny red sports car owned by the rudest, most arrogant, most unfairly handsome man she’s ever met. She yells at him. He yells back. She runs away.Then she finds out she’s going to carry his child. Derek Blackwell—Alpha of the Blackwell Pack, billionaire, and the agency’s most sought‑after client—is looking for a surrogate. Not for just any child. For the child he was meant to have with his late mate. His wife died of a rare illness after a lifetime of fighting it. They never mated, never completed the bond, never had the chance to start the family they dreamed of. But she froze her eggs before she passed, leaving Derek with one final piece of her… and one impossible choice. He needs an heir. But he can’t bring himself to choose another mate. Not when his heart still belongs to the woman he lost. And fate, in all its twisted humour, has matched him with the chaotic woman who dented his car and insulted him in traffic. Now Jo has to convince the Alpha she accidentally assaulted that she’s responsible enough to carry his child. And Derek has to decide whether the woman who crashed into his life might be the only one strong enough to carry his future.The contract is simple. The emotions are not. And the line between enemies, partners, and something dangerously close to destiny is getting thinner every day.

I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen. But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment. The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens. Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker. "Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?" I froze. Alex was here? A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?" It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards. He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims. Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company. I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise. Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button. Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony. The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides. Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die. Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die." He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me. They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.

Every bonding anniversary, Shawn would bring home a new human girl from the outside—always under the lovely pretense of letting me mentor her on how to serve an Alpha. On our seventh anniversary, he brought back a nightclub girl dressed in a Princess Snow White outfit—cheap satin trembling under the chandelier's light. “She doesn’t have anything appropriate for an occasion like this,” he said casually. “Let her borrow your bonding dress. And the jewelry I gave you last time. As for shoes—what you're wearing now will do.” Then he added, with a trace of irony, “She’s just a young human girl, clueless. Teach her a few things about our world, will you? Especially the part about the bed.” Everyone was waiting for the spectacle—for me to break again, as I always had. And I didn’t disappoint them. I looked at Shawn, my voice steady, and said I wanted a bond-severance. He laughed—short and sharp—and leaned back like he was watching a comedy. “Clara, when are you going to stop with this bond-severance nonsense? I’ve heard it so many times. They’re just human girls, while you are my Luna. How could they ever compare to you?” Then, grinning as if doing me a favor, he added, “Fine. If you really want a bond-severance, I’ll gift you a territory in the south. Consider it a reward for doing your job as my Luna.” The room erupted in laughter. To them, I was ridiculous—greedy, jealous, hysterical. But what they didn’t know was that this was the 365th time I’d asked for a bond-severance. And the first time, I truly meant it. When he found out I wasn’t joking this time, he lost his composure. He searched for me across the world—only after he realized I was no longer where he thought I’d always be.

Ariel Marie Morrison is 18 years old. When she was just 10, she lost her parents in a tragic plane crash. They were on a business trip to New York when their flight, the first to hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, claimed the lives of her parents and 158 other passengers. Afterward, Ariel was taken in by her Uncle Steve, her father’s twin brother, and Aunt Diane, her mother’s best friend. Ariel had always dreamed of attending Harvard University, just like her parents, who often spoke fondly of their time there. Determined to follow in their footsteps, she earned a full scholarship to study English Literature. On her first day on campus, dressed in her best outfit and wearing her mother’s pearls, she crossed paths with the infamous Knight Brothers and their crew—an encounter she would soon wish had never happened. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “Watch where you’re going, nerd!” came a deep, mocking voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, watch it,” another chimed in. “Umm… excuse me?” she replied, disbelief in her tone. Laughter erupted around her as she felt dizzy and her throat tightened—panic setting in. Needing to escape, she quickly walked away, though she could feel three pairs of eyes on her. Austin, 18, Dustin, 19, and Justin, 20—the Knight Brothers—were the quintessential All-American golden boys: football stars, wealthy, arrogant, and adored by many. Every girl wanted them, and every guy wanted to be them. But when they set their sights on the sweet, shy, and innocent Ariel, they began treating her like property, possessive and controlling, even though she had never wronged them. The teasing, bullying, and name-calling began. Would Ariel stay quiet and play the part of the “good little nerd,” or would she find the courage to stand up to the Knights?