Real Crossdressing Novels & Stories

He was light-headed from the sting and heat when Hades dragged him off the bed and commanded him to stand. Doll trembled as Hades stalked around him. "Pretty dolls don't wear much do they?" Doll's eyes locked on Hades. "No, they don't," he whispered. Again the tom was twisting everything to create a way for them to deal with reality and still have their own little world. Again he somehow understood what Doll was asking for. Hades was taking society's expectation that a no-fur was always dressed to objectify and making it part of the game. As much as Hades might want to dress him up in a cozy sweater and a cute pair of jeans to take him to dinner, Doll knew that was a ridiculous notion. His w

I was dressed in a way I had never been dressed in my life. The cloth that fell around me was heavy and beautiful, a deep gold with threads that caught the light and held it, flowing from my shoulders to the floor in long, perfect folds. My throat, wrists, and fingers were covered in diamonds – not just a few small ones. I mean the kind of jewels that look like they weren't made by human hands, clear and cold and shining with their own light. My hair was arranged with a neatness and care that I could feel even in the dream, pinned and styled in a way that made the back of my neck feel both bare and grand at the same time.

He checked the mirror for the tenth time, running a hand through his hair until it looked messy on purpose instead of stressed-out messy. *Do I look like I belong at a party? Or do I look like the guy who almost cost us the game?* The thought made his stomach twist. Marcus would be there, glowing from the win, probably surrounded by people slapping his back and telling him how clutch he was. Ethan wanted to show up looking like he didn’t care, like the cold war and the jealousy were no big deal. But deep down he knew he cared too much. The outfit felt like armor he wasn’t sure would hold.

I stole my childhood friend’s doll. Then, he called to complain. I listened to him wail as the doll sat in my hand, its texture somehow akin to that of human skin. Under its skirt was something remarkably female. This left me confused. ‘Is this doll female or male?’ Then, more importantly… ‘Did it come with both organs? Or is this modified?’ He sounded hysterical over the line. Surprised by this, I accidentally squished the doll’s limbs a little.

Andrew’s Cross and being flogged with rhythm so sensual it looked like worship. But all I felt was his hand at my back, pushing me forward, deeper into the crowd of Doms and submissives in masks, corsets and open lust. No one tried to hide their stares. Not when they saw the man I belonged to. Not when they saw me on a leash, bare under leather, nipples tight, lips parted. We passed a cage with a girl kneeling inside, moaning through her gag while her Master traced ice cubes down her chest. Passed another room where a woman screamed out in orgasm with nipple clamps biting tight and wax dripped down her belly like blood.

Jonea held it momentarily, then slammed the dress on the floor. "I can't wear a dress that opens like this, or they'll know I'm a girl! Don't the guys think? If a man were to dress like this, his fake breasts would be exposed. How tacky!" Jonea paced back and forth and massaged her throbbing temples. "Oh, I see! They did it intentionally to show those fake boobs and become a laughingstock! Disgusting. Do they want to degrade the dignity of women? What charity event is this, huh?"

Max said to me. Jada walked towards us both and checked me out. She was dressed in a slutty outfit and it wasn't until she spoke that I knew she wasn't a she but a he. "Hi Eve, I'm Jada." Her masculine voice resonated through the quiet room. "Don't be scared, I'm crossdressing, don't you know that?" He asked looking at Max for back up. "Well, Eve isn't really used to all these things besides the fact that she has a gay best friend, she knows nothing about the community." Max explained saving me from the scrutinizing look that Jada gave.

"How the hell are they going to cope? They won't last because people will keep talking about them." "What I'm worried about is how the other packs would perceive them when there's a dinner or ball party. Who will dress as the female and dress as the male?" A laugh. "It's Xavier who would dress as the female. His wolf is female. It suits him. Haz would dress as the man." "Absolutely ridiculous." My hand is grabbed by Xavier and he pulls me with him. "Let's get out of here," I nod and without looking back, we exit the hall.

Pressing my curls into place, my eyes dance over my outfit, taking in every detail and admiring the scorching hotness that's me. My dress in red—keeping the season in heart. It clings around my butt, and loosens around my torso. My back is left bare, and the neckline dips with purpose, revealing only a suggestion—enough to make the eye linger, not enough to satisfy it. Only pieces of the fabric fall loosely over my breasts, my hard nipple making their own statement. When did I become this hormonal? My eyes linger on the cross resting between my cleavage, tracing the outline. They say that the Cross of Penance symbolizes purity, a reminder that the De la Cruz carry their legacy while keeping

Three impeccably dressed ladies walk in… and then a fourth person, a tall, dark skin, stunning cross-dresser with flawless makeup, glossy lips, and nails so long they could slice through fabric. Behind them, I glimpse three long luggages, pulling in through the door. They all move toward me in perfect, synchronized steps, almost like a runway walk. Then they bow. “Greetings, my lady,” they say in unison. The cross-dresser steps forward, hands clasped dramatically beneath his chin. “The Royal Household sent me to correct your wardrobe,” he announces proudly. Then his eyes widen as he takes me in. “Oh my God… you are so much more gorgeous in real life than in the pictures.”