All Dressed Up free porn video

All Dressed Up by Pat T. Being a dominant woman, I'm naturally attracted to passive men. I like to wear the pants, so to speak, and love to bend males to my whims. Several months ago I was having a drink after work when I noticed a man from the office staring at my shoes. They were my highest heels, about 5", and were made of sparkling red patent leather. They were darned uncomfortable, but I put up with them because they were outrageously sexy. I shifted my weight to give him a really good leg show, then invited him to sit next to me. His mannerisms all pointed to a submissive personality, so I asked him, Paul, to come over the following night. For the occasion I wore my black leather minidress, black hose and the same pair of heels. Paul arrived exactly on time, as I expected. After a few drinks we snuggled on the sofa, and I allowed my dress to hike up even higher, As his eyes popped out of his head I began my scheme- "Paul, honey, do you like these shoes?" "Oh, yes." "Well so do I. You know, I have a pair just like them that might fit you. Would you be a doll and try them on for me? It would really turn me on!" He casually agreed, but the tent pole in his pants gave away his excitement. I brought out the shoes I had secretly bought for him and handed them to him. Paul had already slipped off his loafers and he bent over to put the shoes on. "Oh, no, darling! You simply can't wear pumps like that without stockings. Take off those nasty trousers and we'll get you fixed up in a jiffy." As I figured, he obeyed at once. His erection was even more evident. "My, my. You certainly have hairy legs. I know how to fix that. Just stay where you are." I brought out my Lady Remington shaver and over his protests ran them over his legs until they were as smooth as mine. I opened a package of brown nylons and knelt down to put them on him. He shivered as he experienced the wonderful sensation of slipping stockings up bare legs for the first time. "We'll need something to keep those up, honey. Take off your shirt." I came up behind him and wrapped a black waist cincher around his torso. I snapped him up and teasingly slid the garters under his briefs. I slowly gartered his stockings, pretending to fuss with the garter tension and rubbing my hands up and down his legs supposedly getting the wrinkles out. I quickly pulled down his briefs and kissed his raging hard-on. His knees almost buckled! Without saying a word I had him step out of the briefs and into a pair of red nylon panties. Finally I sat him down and slipped the pumps on his feet. I had him try to stand, but naturally he couldn't handle the heel height. I helped him get his balance and noticed his panties were becoming soaked with pre-cum. I had to act fast! I wrapped a long-line bra around him, padded out the cups, had him step into a half slip, then made him raise his arms to don his first dress- and old prom gown of mine with a sweetheart neckline and a short, puffy skirt. He couldn't walk in his heels, yet, so I rolled over a full-length mirror. He watched wide-eyed as I popped a long black pageboy wig on his head. "Oh, Paula! You make such a foxy girl!" I grabbed him and ground my pelvis into his. He teetered charmingly on his spike heels. Within a few seconds, as I expected, he came in his panties. I pretended to be angry both because he had soiled my panties and because he hadn't done anything to satisfy me. I threatened to throw him out just as he was. He whimpered charmingly, promising to do anything I wanted if I let him put his own clothes back on. "Oh, all right you sissy. You can put those awful trousers back on, but you're going to take my panties home and wash them. You're also going to take those pumps home and learn how to walk properly in them. From now on you'll be known as 'Paula' and you'll address me as 'mistress'. Understood?" "Yes, mistress", he squeaked. "Come back Friday night at seven. I expect you to be wearing my panties. Bring those shoes back, You can show me how well you manage them." He got dressed and left. Friday night at seven on the dot the doorbell rang and I let little Paula in. Without a word, I unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor. He was indeed wearing my panties! "Very nice, Paula, but you're oozing a little and I don't want you to soil your pretty panties." I lowered his panties and installed a sanitary napkin and belt. I tugged his panties back up and had him remove his socks and shoes before stepping out of his pants. He was still wearing his white shirt and tie as I wrapped a garter belt underneath. "Step into these lovely nylons, dear, and we'll get you all fixed up." He did as he was told and I slipped a pair of off-black stockings up his legs. "There's a little stubble, Paula, I want you to shave you legs and underarms whenever you come over." I worked a pair of black lycra stirrup pants up his nyloned legs and struggled with the rear snap and zipper. "Now put on your heels and show me how much you practiced." He had the shoes in a paper bag he was still holding. He slipped on the pumps and stood up without any trace of uncertainty. I had him walk around the room and he managed his heels as well as any woman. "Oh, Paula, that's wonderful." I gave him a big kiss and rubbed his pelvis. "Change into some flats and we'll go out for ice cream to celebrate your progress." The color drained from his face as he realized he would be making a public appearance in the feminine pants. He was more mortified when he saw the black patent skimmers I had him slip on. "Don't fret, Paula, no one will notice that you're wearing girls pants and shoes." He blushed adorably as I propelled him out the door. We walked several blocks to the crowded ice cream parlor without incident. I waited until we were seated with our dessert before I made my announcement. "Paul, are you wearing my slacks?" I said at the top of my voice. "You are! and my shoes too! And stockings! Oh, Paul, I told you not to borrow my things any more without asking!" Unfortunately for Paul, the ground didn't open up a swallow him. The other patrons all turned, pointed, and laughed at the sissy. I made him stand up and pay the check to give everyone a good look at him. One girl chided him for having his garter tabs visible. "Always wear pantyhose with those pants!" she advised between giggles. We made our way back to my place and I had Paula sit on my lap while I rubbed his sanitary napkin until he gushed. "From now on, Paula, I want you to wear a condom under your panties." I folded up his male clothes, put them in his paper bag and made him go home dressed as he was. "I expect you to wear those things when you come back tomorrow at noon. And don't get a run in your nylons or you'll be sorry!" I went to bed, thrilled at the sissy I was creating. The wimp returned on Saturday, decked out as I had instructed him. I removed his flats and slacks and peeked inside his panties to verify he indeed had a condom on. I had him peel off his shirt and put his high heels back on. Then I stood him in front of my bedroom mirror and had him describe each thing he was wearing and how it felt. I complimented him on having his nylons wrinkle-free. He sported a raging erection, but I ignored it and began dressing him. I hooked him into a black bra and pretended to pout as I fingered the empty cups. "Oh, Paula, you're not going to be very popular with the boys unless we fix your flat chest." I located the gel falsies I was looking for and installed them on the sissy. "Now you have pretty boobs like me!" I playfully rubbed my breasts against his and he almost collapsed. I had him tug on a white silk blouse with puffy sleeves and a straight black skirt. I popped the brunette wig back on him, thrust a purse into his hand and hustled him out the door. With his bushy eyebrows and without any makeup he had no chance of passing as a female. I was wearing jeans and walked as fast as I could. With his heels and a hobbling skirt, my little Paula had to teeter along taking quick, short steps. What a racket his heels made! Almost everyone turned to look at him and laughed at the wimp. We ducked into a gay bar I knew and a few men whistled at poor Paul. I danced with him and whispered about what a girl like me and a boy like him could do in private. He had a towering ejection pushing out the front of his skirt. Just when I judged he was ready to cream his panties, I beckoned to a construction worker who came across the floor immediately. I thrust the sissy into the gay man's arms. Paul tripped on his heels and fell against the man, making him look eager to dance. The man took the cue and put a large hand in the small of Paul's back and pressed their pelvises together. Paul was so close to orgasm that the friction pushed him over the edge. He exploded inside his panties, filling the condom. He twitched in his partner's arms as wave after wave of ejaculation took hold of him. The music ended and I rescued Paul. In the booth, I explored under his skirt and pretended to be shocked with his cum-filled condom. "Oh, Paula, here I am all hot and bothered and you preferred a man! I have a good mind to give him your wallet and keys and let you try to get them back. Aren't you ever going to try to satisfy me?" I had him in tears by this time. I dabbed off the tears and led him outside again. His condom was slipping off and he begged me to find someplace for him to change it. I told him that it was his fault and that those panties had better not be soiled when we got home. Once again I set off at a fast pace and the sissy had to mince wildly behind me to stay close. Once or twice he reached under his skirt to try and slide the condom back in place, but I knew he couldn't possibly carry it off the whole way. Sure enough, back at my place I had him stand on a stool and lift his skirt while I closely examined his panties. They naturally were soaked. I scolded him as I removed his panties and wiped him off. "All right, Paula, I need some satisfaction. You've had your fun with that big guy so we'll have to do something to please me." With his skirts still raised, I made him step into a special pair of black rubber panties. They were equipped with a medium sized hollow dildo. I slowly worked them over his darling heels and up his nyloned legs. Finally I slid his shriveled member into the dildo and snapped the waistband into place. I physically picked the sissy up and laid him on my bed. His skirts were hiked up to give me access. I took off my jeans and panties and straddled the waiting dildo. I slid up and down to my own rhythm, telling Paula how much he turned me on in lace and lingerie and making him thank me over and over again for allowing him to impersonate a female.. The hard dildo gave him no sensation, but my narrative aroused him. I knew that the inside of the dildo was too small for him and I delighted in the pain in his eyes as I went on and on about how sexy I felt and what I'd like to do with a real man. I slowed down when I came close to orgasm and held back for nearly half an hour before exploding. "Oh, Paula, that felt wonderful. I hope your guy pleased you as much!" I told Paul that it was time for him to leave and gave him thirty seconds to strip down to his garter belt and nylons. What a sight he made trying to wiggle out of those rubber panties with his dong stuck in the dildo! Finally he stood before me sporting an erection. "Now you're ready, huh? Well, go ahead and relieve yourself." I pulled up a chair and stared at the sissy as he wanked himself into another ejaculation. I cradled his balls in my hand and just as I felt them starting to spasm, I asked him to consider going out on a double date with him all dolled up and paired with that big gay guy and me with a straight guy who could service me. He couldn't stop himself, of course, so his ejaculation seemed to be in response to my suggestion. I pretended to be happy that he finally found himself and I kissed his neck as he finished dribbling into his hand. "OK, Paula, wipe off your hands and grab a clean pair of panties from my dresser. Put on the outfit you wore over and join me in the living room." After he returned I announced that he was to wear the panties, garter belt and nylons to work every day. This of course meant that he had to rinse them out each evening and also keep his hosiery run-free. Since we worked at the same office, I promised to check his underwear at random intervals. "Next Friday night we're going to my beauty parlor where we'll get you the works. Won't you be proud of your pierced ears and long red fingernails? Then on Saturday we're going to get you a complete feminine wardrobe, so bring lots of money. Then comes Saturday Night. We're going to go out as two girlfriends and try to get lucky. Sunday is our company picnic. I can't wait to show you off!" Each day I visited the wimp and casually rubbed his lap in insure he had the panties on. His nyloned ankles were clearly visible. "Oh, Paula, I bet you can't wait for our appointments Friday night. Soon you'll be able to wear pretty earrings like the other girls here. I wonder how you'll explain those lovely nails you'll have at the picnic to your boss?" I'm sure little Paul thought I was bluffing until he stood before me, naked, while I get him ready for the beauty parlor. I hooked him into a pretty raspberry bustier then handed him a padded control brief. As he worked the stretchy garment up his legs. I complimented him on how well he was learning how to wear girls things. Once he had the brief in place, I stood behind, pulled the front of the waistband away from him, slid my hand down to tuck his member between his legs, then let the waistband snap back into place. I gave him a new package of navy support pantyhose and he put them on as skillfully as any woman. I slipped a pair of falsies into the waiting cups of his bustier and helped him into his blouse. It was antique ivory in color with balloon sleeves, a lace stand-up collar and rear buttons. Now came the challenge- I brought out my tightest pair of jeans and made the wimp put them on. The legs were nearly impossible for him to work on, but at last he had them in place. The top of the jeans, however, failed to meet by at least three inches. I made him lay down on my bed with his hands at his sides and bounce while I worked the zipper link by link. We finally succeeded in closing the gap and snapping Paul into feminine jeans. I had to help him stand up and then slid the zippers down at the back of each leg. I made the sissy wear blue open-toed pumps with towering heels and let him lean on me as i walked him over to the full-length mirror. I had him admire himself while I got myself ready. He was delightfully distressed at his reflection. His blouse was nearly transparent, proudly displaying his sexy bustier. The combination of the padded brief and the tight jeans gave my little Paula a perfectly flat front and deliciously rounded hips and fanny. Perched on those spike heels, he looked both wanton and vulnerable. Once I got myself ready, I put a little makeup on him, brushed his long hair into an approximation of a female style and clipped on a raspberry bow. A gold necklace, a few bracelets, a blue purse, and he was ready to take anywhere. We left the apartment and he was delightfully apprehensive as he clicked down the sidewalk to the beauty parlor. Once inside we were seated side by side. The attendant knew that Paul was male, of course, but didn't hesitate a moment. His hair was washed, cut, colored and put up in rollers. They sat him under a big drier where he couldn't hear a thing. A threatening look from me kept him from complaining as a dizzying array of beauticians descended on him. By the time his hair had dried he was sporting stud earrings, long red ceramic nails and his eyebrows had been reduced to pencil-thin lines by electrolysis. They brushed out his new hair style and finally spun him around to see himself in a mirror. It was then that he discovered he had become a blonde! A hand reached up to touched a shiny earring only to be pulled back quickly when the unfamiliar red nail made contact. I paid the bill and gave everyone involved a generous tip from Paul's money. As we walked back to my place, I comforted the sissy, telling him how much I liked him this way and that I would give him a reward. Back home, I helped him take off everything and dressed both of us in shorty nighties. I inserted one of my dildos before donning a pair of latex rubber panties. I rolled a condom on Paul and put a pair of bloomers on him. We then both put on surgical gloves and lay down on my bed. I instructed Paul to caress my panties. As soon as he started I put both hands inside his bloomers and began groping his member and easing a finger into his rear. Soon we found a pleasant rhythm of squeaking rubber on rubber, groans and thrusts. When I felt him ready to cum, I jammed my finger into his rear as far as it would go. His eyes opened wide as what was no doubt the biggest orgasm of his live overtook him. Again and again he gushed, his eyes rolled back in his head. I let myself go at the same time and let the wonderful warm tingling satisfy me. While I cleaned us both up, I explained to Paul that he no longer made a convincing male so he should resign himself to becoming more and more feminine. I dressed him in a peasant blouse and denim wrap skirt for his return home. Underneath he had on an unremarkable bra and panty set, beige pantyhose and tan pumps with medium heels. I sent him home, telling him to swab his earrings with alcohol and to return in the same outfit the next morning. Of course he did just that. I fixed his hairdo and makeup and off we went shopping. We spent lots of time in lingerie departments since I really enjoyed making him slowly examine each little bit of fluff and then tell me what he thought it would feel like to wear it, what it went with, and whether a boy would like to catch a glimpse of a girl wearing it. I made him loudly declare each garment as 'cute'. The poor boy tried on dresses for hours on end. Finally we made the rounds of shoe stores and got him a wide selection. I delighted in hiking up his skirt whenever he sat down to try on a pair- the shoe clerks always took the opportunity to take a peek. Loaded with boxes, we went to Paul's place for the first time together. Before unpacking his new things, I collected all his male clothing into plastic garbage bags and threw them into the incinerator. Naturally he pleaded with me, but I explained that he wouldn't feel as much guilt posing as a woman since he wouldn't have any choice- when he opened his closet in the morning he would be confronted only by dresses and skirts. He would only have to choose which panties to wear and to limit his options to pantyhose versus stockings. We put everything away and I told the wimp to slip on a nice nightie, put his hair up and get a beauty nap, shave his legs and underarms, take a bubble bath, paint his toenails and be ready for me a 7:30. He still had a bewildered look on his face as I patted his behind and left. I did a few errands before getting myself ready for the evening. I dressed very conservatively in a knee-length gray sheath with matching pumps and bag. I wanted to look positively dowdy next to the wanton Paula. I arrived a little late at his apartment and found him delightfully distressed. He no longer had anything even slightly masculine to wear and I still had all of his cash. He had no way to leave his place except as a girl. I comforted him as I introduced him to a latex pouch I brought with me in my purse. He didn't understand its purpose at first. I gently positioned his male equipment in the tiny pocket and before he could react I snapped all the straps together behind him. "See how girlish you look in front, honey? Now you'll be able to wear tight skirts and stretch pants without that useless bulge showing. And when you're out with a guy and get all excited, you'll stay maidenly, even during those slow romantic dances. Aren't you thrilled?" He gently touched himself with his new long fingernails as I helped him step into his corset. It had built-in padded panties and as I started tugging the laces tight I made Paul focus on his suddenly feminine front. I had to put my knee in the poor boy's back to get the edges to meet, but at last it was done. I rolled black seamed nylons up each leg and kissed the front of his panties while I gartered his hosiery. "See, Paula, you can't do a thing in response, can you? Now instead of being some macho male trying to poke every girl in sight, you'll have guys thinking about poking you!" I turned him around and worked on the rear garters. "You have to keep these seams straight, honey. Whenever you get a chance, check them in the mirror, and if they're crooked, pick at the seams like I'm doing now to fix them. Here, you try the other one." I can't describe the rush that hit me as I watched the corseted sissy learn the utterly feminine skill of straightening his stocking seams. I sat him down and handed him a pair of red patent leather pumps with ankle straps. He pointed his toes just like he had been wearing heels all his life. He had some difficulty with the tiny buckles on the straps and his new nails, but I was patient. One he was done I brushed out his hair and did a dramatic makeup job on the wimp. I gently removed his stud earrings and replaced them with large gold hoops. With him looking like a pin-up, it was a great time to take some photos! He nearly burst into tears as I put him in classic girly poses and took pictures. I had him adjust his garters, apply mascara, freshen his lipstick and a host of other feminine activities, all for the benefit of the camera. He actually looked relieved when at last I let him wiggle into a red nylon mini slip affording him a tiny bit of modesty. I dropped his sleeveless tan knit minidress carefully over his head to preserve his hairdo. As I tugged the zipper up his back, the dress did its thing, straining across his hips and breasts. I buckled a wide red belt on him, matching his heels, to highlight his narrow waist. Some jewelry, a liberal application of perfume, and I studied my handiwork with a critical eye. Paula wasn't a knockout in any sense of the term, but she certainly appeared to be a she. I made "her" sit down, stand up, cross his legs, and so forth, and noted with satisfaction that he couldn't possibly keep himself modest- any action at all exposed a seemingly unintentional display of shapely leg, stocking tops, frothy slip and other delightfully sexy underpinnings. Of course Paul was humiliated at his fate and begged not to be taken out in public wearing so suggestive an outfit. "Oh, don't be silly, honey. You don't want anyone to know you're really a boy in a dress, do you? Go ahead, try to look masculine in the mirror." He really did try. He stomped his feet with his hands on his hips, he tried to walk like a man, but no matter what he did he looked like the pretty little miss I had turned him into. Resigned to his fate, he actually picked out a shoulder purse on his own. I rewarded him with a peck on the cheek. "We can't ruin our makeup, Paula." We walked to a cafe for a dinner. I selected a table on a raised terrace to let him struggle with his hem line in front of an appreciative audience on the lower level. "See how difficult it is to be a girl, Paula? Did you ever guess that someday you'd be the pretty little thing on display up here instead of being one of the creeps down there?" I paid the bill and we made our way to a ladies-only male strip show. The poor boy was completely out of his element as we positioned ourselves at the edge of the stage. As each muscle-bound dancer appeared, I made Paul compare their physique to his own. "You're really better off as a girl, doll. You can't compete with these hunks." I made him slip dollar bills into the studs' G-strings. Once I took his manicured hand and pressed it against a big guy's codpiece. He blushed just like a virgin! "Wow, Paula, how big was it? It makes yours seem pretty insignificant, doesn't it?" I winked at the flustered wimp. "I bet you'd be sporting a tiny hardon if I hadn't strapped you into your little modesty device." After about two hours of this treatment, we left. I hailed a cab and made little Paula mince back home as best he could. I informed him that I would be over to his place very early to get him ready for the company picnic. As I got into bed that night, I decided that I was about done emasculating the wimp. The company picnic would seal his fate, I figured. Once they got a load of Paula, he'd be out of a job for sure! The next morning I dressed myself in a sweatshirt and jeans- standard fare for a picnic. I drove over to Paul's eager to finish off my little sissy. He answered the door in his dressing gown. I entered and immediately made him open it to show me what he was wearing. It was a pale blue baby doll set. I complimented his choice and rubbed the front of his panties, noting that he wasn't wearing his latex pouch. I slipped off his panties and had him spread his legs. He was already semi hard as I removed a condom from my purse. It was as extra large size and the poor thing had no hope of filling it. It eclipsed his member as if it were a wind sock. I also produced a butt plug and gently pressed it against his rear. I began applying pressure but he resisted. "Now, Paula, I want you to experience what a girl feels. Stop being so stubborn." He still couldn't relax enough so I put my mouth around his little prick and giant condom and give him my best blow job. At the exact moment that he shot his load he relaxed his muscles and I easily slid in the butt plug. His eyes went wide- I loved it! "You'll get used to it, honey. It will help you walk a little sexier and sit a little more daintily. Now bring my your little modesty belt and we'll start dolling you all up for the picnic." He walked on his tiptoes trying to minimize the penetration of his new butt plug. His lower lip was quivering as he came back and handed me the little device. I installed the device loosely, threading the lower strap though the loop in his butt plug, and gently pressed his testicles up into their cavity. I positioned his shriveled pecker back between his legs and quickly yanked the straps home. The combination of the grip on his crotch and the unrelenting force of the plug forced him to thrust his hips forward in a convincing parody of a woman. I instructed Paul to start with his gold support pantyhose. By now he was skilled in putting ladies hosiery on. I selected that particular pair both because they felt less natural than regular hose and also because they formed the shape of the leg into the maker's notion of the ideal female. I continued by snapping him into a black bra with built-in falsies. At this point I sat him down and fixed his hair and makeup. Finished, I had him put his arms into a transparent white blouse with puff sleeves and buttoned it up in back. "Go get your orange playsuit, honey." He returned with the corduroy hot pants with attached bib front and wide suspenders. He stepped into the legs and between us we easily slid it up into place and buckled the suspenders. The rear zipper was another matter entirely. Paul had to lay face down on his bed while I slowly got it closed. Once done, the sissy couldn't bend at the waist, so I had to lace on his kneehigh white boots. They had very high spike heels- completely inappropriate for a picnic. I stood him in front of his mirror while I pinned on a giant orange hair bow and installed his largest hoop earrings. I had him walk around the room and delighted in my creation. He not only looked trashy with his visible bra, fetish boots and skin tight hot pants, but he was forced to walk in an outright wanton manner, leading with his hips as he moved. In short, he was a perfect slut! We put lipstick, hairbrush and some mad money into his white patent leather handbag and drove over to the picnic. At first people just assumed Paula was a trashy wife or girlfriend of someone. I made him say hello to some of our coworkers and watched their jaws drop. It was only a matter of minutes before a crowd had gathered around poor little Paula. There were plenty of confused looks as everyone stared at the juncture of his feminine thighs- there was absolutely no telltale bulge. Some of the women asked me if I had dressed Paul up as a joke. I calmly explained that he wore women's apparel at every opportunity at that from now on he would spend his office time in skirts as well. As I had planned, it wasn't long before the boss got wind of the situation. He stormed over and fired Paul in the spot, citing office decorum as a reason. The sissy actually broke down and cried in front of everyone! I dabbed his tears and took him home. Just about then I lost all interest in the wimp. I had totally defeated him and placed him in circumstances that he couldn't navigate alone. As a parting consideration, I got him a position as a file clerk at a friend's business. I didn't see Paul for several months, then I ran into him a department store. He was wearing an unremarkable blouse and skirt and was rummaging through the closeout rack. I tapped him on the shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his flats. He seemed genuinely happy to see me. He explained that the new identity and job was working out. He spent nearly all his meager wages on clothes and went to a spa to try to drop a few pounds and become a size 9. I squeezed his manicured hand in a sisterly way and left him searching for a new frock. I'm back into the bar scene, searching for a new conquest. Maybe I can find a brother/sister duo to do some really exotic domination games. I'll let you know! (the end)