True Cross Dressing Stories Novels & Stories

It was itching his skin already. After a few minutes of struggling to put on the clothes, Xander was dressed up and ready to get out of the dressing room. He held the wig in his hand and strolled out of the dressing room. The moment the women in the salon saw him, the place went dead silent, with their eyes popping open. Some of them were disappointed to see that a handsome man like him was gay. A woman spilt the water in her mouth on the face of the staff that was attending to her as her gaze landed on Xander.

People move through the crowd, some in tight crop top dresses, both genders and others in next to nothing, shirts unbuttoned to the navel, skirts so short too and some women are with no bras, just dancing around naked while their breasts bounce with them. Shortly, a woman brushes past me, her crop top a scrap of lace that hides nothing, her hips swaying as she laughs with a man whose hands roam freely around her, requesting for a dance with her. My eyes go numb, and I snap my gaze away, only to land on a couple in a corner, pressed against the wall, they are both naked too as he is fucking her from the back while she’s in a doggy position. My face burns, and I held Melinda tighter. Melinda l

I pulled away after a moment and slipped off my tank top and sweats before pulling on the indigo t-shirt dress. “Maybe you and Jax can make traditions for the pack moving forward. It’s his now so he doesn’t have to run it the same way his scumbag dad did.” I shrug as I slip off my sports bra and my panties from under the dress. The ceremony needed you to be as natural as possible so other than the dress, no clothes. It used to be done in the nude but at some point, clothes became the norm and with the current weather, I was glad for it. “What are you doing?” Torrance asked in surprise as I tossed the underwear off. I laughed and shrugged as I picked them up and put them in my hamper.

The department store was closed for the night, the heavy security shutters locked tight, but for a man with my connections, doors are merely suggestions. I sat in the massive, velvet-upholstered "Santa's Throne" in the center of the holiday display. I had discarded the traditional padding and the fake beard. Instead, I wore the heavy red velvet trousers, unbuttoned at the waist, and the fur-trimmed coat open over my bare chest. My muscles were corded like steel, mapped with scars and ink, and I had a flask of dark bourbon in one hand and a heavy leather riding crop in the other. A soft click echoed from the perfume counter. Then, the rhythmic tapping of heels.

I didn't buy anything. Friday came and I changed into nylon running shorts and a tank top at about four-thirty. I opened the garage door and swept the garage as I waited. At five the mini-van pulled in. John pulled in until the back edge of his door was just inside the garage. Crystal said something and John faked a smile. She got out and moved in front of the van. She was wearing a halter dress, stockings and heels. Her hands went to the back of her neck. She faced John, not me. The halter came loose and she pushed the short zipper at her back, down. Watching John she lowered the dress to the garage floor. She stepped out of it. She had on a teal bra and thong set, stockings and heels. The

"This dress is a one-of-a-kind Itania creation, the handcrafting alone cost thirty thousand dollars. I never meant to flaunt, but what can I do when I'm married to the wealthiest man around?" She feigned a look of concern, yet her eyes sparkled with triumph. The relatives gasped in awe, while a few young girls, green with envy, reached out to touch the gown, only to be deftly sidestepped by Betty. From the doorway, I let out a soft laugh. Three years ago, when I first laid eyes on Joseph, he was a man battered by life and plagued by illness. He once caught me performing a mystical ritual and became convinced I possessed magic. He begged me to heal him.

Like I was the kind of girl who wore red satin bras for herself, not because she was trying to forget the boy who made her feel like everything and nothing at once. “Can I help you find a size?” a sales assistant asked sweetly. “Oh, I’m just… looking.” Lie. I found myself holding a deep red set. Lace. Strappy. Bold. A blood-red lace set with matching garter belts and stockings that screamed sex and sex and maybe a little revenge. My feet stopped. I stared. My pulse tripped. “Mason would love this…” The words slipped out before I could swallow them. I scoffed and looked away like someone might’ve heard me.

That had always been my problem. I’d slipped into the royal group, dressed in borrowed clothes, my hair pinned up, because it was the only way to get close. It worked. He lived. I told myself that was enough, that I could disappear as quietly as I’d come, and no one would know. I hadn’t expected gratitude. I hadn’t expected a reward. And I definitely hadn’t expected marriage. I pressed my fingers to my eyes and stood there for a moment, alone at the edge of the forest, half-laughing at myself, half-wanting to sit in the dirt and never get up.

At this moment, Alex walked out after dispelling the spell formation. After asking around, everyone did not have any men’s clothes. The corpses on the ground had them, but all of them were smeared with blood. Alex did not want to wear those clothes either. In the end, Juliette took out a long dress. “Do you want this? I only have this.” ‘Cross-dressing?’ Alex forced a smile and accepted it. ‘A cross-dress is more powerful than a king’s new outfit!’ After wearing the long dress, he really looked a little coy.

“Oh sweetie, it’s all just one big fucked up mess to you, right? Don’t worry, I’m not trapped anywhere. It’s just ‘Fake Drug’ used to be some serious gender-benders themselves. Have you heard their lyrics? And the front man used to perform in dresses sometimes when they were younger, and he was smoking h-o-t in them. Rest assured, I won’t be the only cross-dresser in the crowd.” I hum thoughtfully. “Not your typical hard rock band.” “Exactly, and I love that about them.” “Where did you get this dress?” He shrugs. “I bought it.” “It looks expensive.” “I have savings.” He rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t ruin the experience. I also bought the shoes.” He puts one foot on the seat, and I catc