Madjic
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The Crossdresser did not Realize who they Were messing with. (Futanari on Male Story)
🕑 Added 2025-03-21 13:12:30 +0000 UTCSo there wasn't going to be a chapter because I had been editing Life of a Dominant Futanari tonight. Then, I was hit with a bit of inspiration, and I created this story. I would love to hear what people think before I move forward, but it was just a little something I made for fun before I fell asleep, and I think you all would enjoy reading it.
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I finished putting on my makeup, and I put on my slutty cute panties. I pulled back and looked into the mirror, shivering in delight. I saw the perfect little cute reflection back at me in the mirror. In the mirror, a short, long-haired girl was there. Her makeup made her look cute, and her small breasts only added to the cuteness. Her little white dress was perfect, tight in all the right places and loose in all the others. The skirt poofed out a little, and I twirled, and the skirt danced with me.
I blushed, looking at myself in the mirror, and quickly picked up my purse to leave for my date. My date was a special woman who had been talking to me for weeks. I was scared and excited for tonight and hoped everything would go well. I was a short guy at five foot two inches, and I hated it. It was a pain in the ass, and my body refused to gain muscle and gain weight. I was a tiny one hundred and ten pounds and fought daily to keep it at that weight. When it did gain on my body, it went to my ass which gave me a girlish body if you asked my friends. It did not help that I always had a cute, girly face to go along with it.
Growing up in a Christian home, I could only wish god created me as a girl instead of just making me look like a girl. My cock was not even large to make up for it. It was something I had been teased relentlessly for, and I had no good attributes to my name. My father wanted a boy who would play football, and I liked tech. I really liked tech, and my next favorite thing was fashion. Two things my father hated, and my mother did not like it either.
Luckily, I was not stupid, and living in rural Alabama, I tried my best not to be what I truly was. After being harassed and embarrassed along with bullying, to make it even better, I got away. I went to university at MIT, and I never went back. Fuck those Christian fanatics who never read the bible. It was when I was fifteen I learned that my church had been a denomination of the fucking KKK, and I was disgusted.
My parents were dead to me, and my brother, who was younger than me, was just as bad as them. He was a disgusting man who believed all that alpha bullshit. The funny thing was I looked into where that came from because I had been bothered by it from my dad and brother for years. The writer of Alpha in Wolf Packs came back a year later and said he was wrong. There was no alpha wolf, and there was no such thing as an alpha wolf. It was the scientist's biggest regret, and he spent his entire career after that book trying to tell people he was wrong.
But no one believed him. They believed what they wanted to believe, and they held onto the belief because people wanted to be this mythical alpha thing. To this day, decades later, even with all scientific discoveries saying otherwise, people believe in that bullshit. There was no such thing as an Alpha male, and the whole culture was one of the things that was destroying society.
Then again, that was not my fucking problem anymore. I was out of that house and free to be who I wanted. It was because of my freedom that I tried on women's clothing once and my pure hate for alpha male culture that I did it. I found that women's clothing made me happy. I was super happy, and I started a business while cross-dressing. I felt no want to transition like my friends brought up, but now, after starting a successful tech start-up, I was lonely, so I was going out on a date with a woman for the first time.
It was harsh, but when you are five foot two inches, with a crossdressing fetish. The pool shrinks a lot for women willing to accept that. That is when I met Carly on the internet—a woman who was solid. We had never met in person before, and she said she was attractive but never sent photos. She refused to send photos, really, and I sent her a couple. She knew who I was, but I did not know who she was. I trembled at that thought, but I continued to the restaurant.
Now, I was going to meet her, and my heels clicked down the street. I was astonished when she picked out a place within walking distance from my apartment. It was a nice restaurant, though, and I was looking forward to the privacy. It wasn't separate room privacy, but they constructed the place to make the acoustics almost impossible for others not beside you to hear. It was a feat of engineering and proof that sound people were getting better and better at it.
My mind was all over the place, and I could not stop thinking about what I was walking into. Carly seemed so nice. I don't know. She was unique, and I felt drawn to her. I hoped to God I was not being catfished. I would be devastated, I am not going to lie. She seemed so genuine and, well, nice. I could not pin down her personality.
So I arrived at the restaurant five minutes before the time. I walked in, and the host was in a black vest and white shirt. He was a nice-looking man, and he smiled brightly. “Hello, do you have a reservation?” the man asked, and I almost dry-swallowed.
Instead, I nodded, “Um, yes, I am here to, um, see, Carly? She said she made the reservation under Carly.” I told him, and he looked at me, shocked.
“Oh, may I ask your name? Carly already informed us she would be having a date but requested that we ask for their name before bringing them in for privacy reasons, " the host said, and I nodded again. I did not understand why that was important to her, but I nodded again anyway.
I opened my mouth, and I hesitated because I was so nervous about going on a date. I took a breath and remembered my speech. “I am Angel,” I told him, and he smiled again.
“Perfect, right this way, Angel,” He said, guiding me inside, and I followed.
With each step, my mind spiraled. Oh, fuck, what if she doesn’t like me? What if she was here to make fun of me? What if she hates that I am short? What if she hates that I have a small dick? She would hate that, wouldn't she? I could not help those things, though! If there was a god, he hated me, and I just knew things were going to go bad.
“We are here,” the host said, and my mind blanked as I looked up.
My mind skipped a beat, and there was a door to the room. She had booked a room? Oh, fuck, I did not even know this place had rooms! I gulped, reached out, and opened it. I regretted it as it slid open, and I stepped forward with a click of my heel, not knowing what drove me forward. My eyes widened as I looked at the room's single occupant, and she stood up.
Carly towered over me, and my mind was stupidly blank.
This, was, a, WOMAN.
She had this face with sharp womanly features that demanded respect; her luscious brown hair was up in a bun, and her white skin was perfect without any makeup. I could tell that there was not a fucking half gram of makeup on that skin, and her eyes smiled seeing me. Her black dress had short sleeves, and her fingernails were painted black while her lips were this dark red that I thought for a moment had to be lipstick, but I knew lipstick, and I did not know of any brand that particular shade of red. I would have bought it if there was, so I knew. Her black dress cut down to her breasts, showing off Double D cup breasts that seemed to defy gravity. Her stomach showed muscles, and her skirt hugged her hips down to the mid-thigh, showing off toned yet a little fat still on them somehow. I thought that fat looked like it did not belong there, but she chuckled as I looked over her legs stockings. They were matching black, and her heels were black with four inches. Those were fucking spikes and could be used as a fucking weapon.
“Angel?” Her womanly voice asked, and I nodded stupidly. “You're just as cute as your photos,” She said. Her voice was like that of a sex goddess, and she smelled amazing. Like roses, really not that chemical roses either, like real fucking roses, and I gulped. “You will do,” she said, “I am glad you did not send me someone else's photos and catfish me. Host, Please tell the waiter we will order soon and bring the good wine.” Then she waved her hand, dismissing the host, and I heard the door close, leaving me in the room with a sex goddess. No, a fucking succubus, and I did not know how to handle it, and she fucking towered over me. I was under her breasts at this point, and she smiled, looking down at me as I looked up at her as she stood. “You are so cute; please, Angel, sit down; we have much to discuss.”
She licked her lips and smiled, and I shivered. I had seen that look before, and it made me tremble. It was the look of a predator, but for the first time.
I didn't hate it.
Comments
iiTzDome
Its a nice prologue
Patrick G
He probably has a look like "oh crap, she's gonna fuck me till my dick falls off from over use"
