Forced Crossdresser Fantasies Novels & Stories

She had taken off her dress, and was now standing in a red lace lingerie. The bound men looked at themselves, then back at her. They had seen the huge bulge in the front of her pants. ‘She was transgender the whole time?’ They communicated telepathically. “Oh yes! I know you've all seen it. I'm a solid six inches. Proudly.” Anna smirked and lashed the whip in the air and it produced a loud sound that made the bound men's heart gallop thrice as fast. The men and women she invited in, took their bound partners—a guy and a lady to one bound man.

The fantasies grew darker, more daring. “Entry Twenty-Two: I’m at a crowded gallery opening. A black dress, backless, slit to the thigh. A man, a patron, wealthy, older, drops his champagne flute. As I bend to help pick up the shards, his hand slides up the slit of my dress, finding no barrier. His fingers push inside me, right there on the floor, as people mill around us. He whispers, ‘Such a well-mannered cunt, dripping for anyone who looks.’ He fingers me to a quick, violent climax, my body shuddering as I try to gather glass with trembling hands. He helps me up, licks his fingers clean in front of me, and walks away.”

He ripped my thong aside and pushed two thick fingers deep inside me without warning. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” dream-Jax growled in my ear, voice low and rough. His fingers curled perfectly, stroking that spot that made my knees weak. “Now you’re going to take what you started, little sis.” I moaned loudly in the dream, gripping the counter as he finger-fucked me hard and fast. The wet sounds filled the kitchen. He bit my neck, then kissed me roughly, his tongue claiming my mouth while his fingers drove me closer and closer.

This of course reduced the stress of never being able to crossdress at all but increased the longing for wanting to do it more openly and more often. One of the aspects of my longing is that I will often imagine myself as some woman that I see on the street or in some other normal situation. Dr. Lane refers to this as gender transference; I call it a "wanna-be crush." Most men would see a hot, attractive woman and fantasize about being with her; I fantasize about actually being her. Sometimes it's just to feel the sexy, feminine clothes she's wearing, but often I imagine getting laid by one of those male admirers.

“In the foyer?” “Fuck yeah,” he groaned against her parted lips. “I would’ve stripped those damn pants off you, flipped you onto your knees, and taken you from behind, my hands holding your breasts as I fucked you long and hard. Soon, I’m going to have to live out my fantasy.” Oh God… “Promise?” “Cross my heart.” Need slammed into her core at the images of him taking her roughly on the floor. She reached down between them, gripping him and stroking the hard, hot length, and his hips punched forward.

My fingers found my clit—already slick, already begging—and the first slow circle made my back arch so hard water sloshed over the edge. “Oh God,” I whispered, even though I knew it was the wrong name to say. I stroked faster. Two fingers sliding over and around my clit while my other hand came up to pinch my nipple the way I imagined he might. The water made everything slippery, louder. I slipped one finger inside myself, then two, curling them the way I’d done every morning for weeks. My hips rocked up to meet my hand. The fantasy took over completely—Father Chris’s voice in my ear, his breath hot against my neck, his fingers replacing mine, thicker, surer, pressing that spot that made sta

- Light public exposure (visible marks, thin collar under clothes, discreet orders in public). - Prolonged bondage (more than 2 hours). - Extreme edging (hours without coming). - Anal penetration on him (strap-on, fingers, plugs). - Chastity play (short-term, up to 48 hours). Jaston read it aloud, his breathing already heavier. “Fantasies now,” she said, turning the page. “No filter. Things we want to try, even if they sound crazy.” He thought for a moment. “I want you to use me as furniture. Like… a coffee table. Me on all fours, you resting your feet on my back while you read or drink wine. Or me lying on my back, you using my face as a seat while you watch something.”

The real thing was beyond any fantasy I could've cooked up. I soon found myself gazing down at her. Her big breasts became hypnotic as they bounced around wildly. I had to remind myself that I wasn't dreaming. Natalie's body was jerking and writhing in pleasure for real, right in front of me. I grinned for a brief moment, praising myself for the confidence to make it all the way with a girl that had been torturing my fantasies for months. That moment quickly passed as I focused back on the splendid pleasure that very same girl was giving me.

It was sick, twisted, and I wanted it more than anything I’d ever wanted before. “I want it to be raw and savage,” I typed, my pulse quickening as I laid out the details. “I want to be overpowered, restrained, and taken in the most brutal way possible. Use ropes to bind me tightly, make me feel every inch of the restraints digging into my skin. I want to be forced into submission, made to beg and plead, and I want the intensity to push me to the edge of pain and pleasure. The rougher, the harsher, the better. Make it so that the fantasy leaves its mark on me, something to remember every detail of. No gentle touches, I don't want to be coddled no matter what.” The words spilled out, each line

Cross had unbuckled his pants and was slowly stroking his cock while he ate her out. Amara was incredibly sexy, and watching her face twist and contort as she came made his cock impossibly stiff. He tugged on his cock, sticky pre-cum oozing from his tip, and fantasized about finally pounding her sweet pussy. Her toes curled and her pussy rippled around his tongue as she came all over his face. Her pussy dribbled more syrupy sweetness from her hole. He wanted to bathe his cock in the wetness she was producing; but not yet.