She Found a Sissy
- 4 years ago
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Stroking Sissy free porn video
STROKING SISSY by Throne
My wife June told me to get out of my apron, put on what she'd laid out
for me, and then come to the bedroom. As she sauntered away I couldn't
help admiring her trim but sexy figure and pixie-cut blond hair. I
sighed and went to my room, where I slept on nights when she banned me
from her bed. It still upsets me to see my space, small and decorated
the way a girl in her early teens might like, all pink and white, with
rainbows and unicorns. Right in the middle is a youth-model canopy bed
with plenty of ruffles. Lined up on the bedspread were a yellow top
with puffed shoulders and only enough material to cover the top portion
of my chest, a black thong that featured a big bow in the back, and
stay-up fishnet stockings, along with a pair of sparkly red shoes that
looked like they should be worn on a quest to meet The Wizard of Oz.
At least it was more than I'd had on all morning. The only thing I'd
been allowed since getting out of bed and shedding my baby doll nightie,
was an apron trimmed all around with impractical lace. It showed off my
bottom and legs, which were denuded of hair, like the rest of my body.
June had been making me use some sort of depilatory tool she had found,
and said that eventually it would prevent my hair from returning. She
had put me on the path of femininity after she discovered my secret,
which was that I'm a dedicated crossdresser. I've had the desire to
wear female clothes since before puberty. It remained an unfulfilled
dream until I graduated college, got a well paying job, and found an
apartment where I could build a lovely wardrobe. But my accumulation of
lingerie, cute little dresses, wigs and make-up was cut short when I met
June, fell in love and, with her making the decisions for both of us,
got engaged and then married.
We bought a modest house in the suburbs, in a wooded neighborhood, at
the end of a secluded street. There was plenty of privacy but not the
type I wanted. I desired alone time to play dress up. But we were
usually home together and I had put my cherished stockings, heels,
blouses and skirts in storage. I used to think about them during sex
with my lovely wife. Just seeing her aroused me but there was an extra
kick when picturing myself in a bra, garter belt and stockings during
the act. It was frustrating not to be able to fulfill that fantasy.
June was experiencing frustration of her own. I'm short and slim like
her, which is great for pretending to be a girl. But I also have very
small genitals. That's good when I want to tuck them away inside a pair
of close-fitting panties, but not so welcome when I'm trying to satisfy
my bride.
Over time I learned to sneak in some dress-up sessions while she was
spending evenings with her circle of girlfriends. I even found
cosmetics that were meant for schoolgirls who wanted to play at being
women, make-up that could be washed off in moments. I had some really
pleasant hours with the small stash of fashions I kept hidden in the
back of my closet, in a box marked TEXTBOOKS. Everything went well
until I began to try on June's underwear. How could I resist? She had
a penchant for lacy bras, bikini cut panties, colorful garter belts, and
patterned stockings. I found out later that, even though I thought I
was putting everything back neatly, I had made a few errors. And though
I didn't realize it, in my erotic excitement I had left semen stains in
the gussets of several pairs of her panties. It wasn't like I
ejaculated in them, but I got myself so worked up that there was plenty
of dripping.
Her growing suspicions led my wife to set a trap. She told me she was
going to be staying late with the girls and that I didn't have to wait
up until midnight -- or later -- for her return. To make me even more
likely to take the bait, she bought some new panties, with opaque
crotches but transparent everywhere else, and asked for my opinion of
them while she was getting dressed to go out. I gasped when she showed
them to me. I was sure she would take my reaction as just a man's way
of appreciating something so sexy. What I was actually thinking was how
terrific they would look on me and how I would pose in them in front of
the full-length, oval mirror, framed between supports on a heavy base,
which she had recently gotten. As she left for the evening I was
thinking of how I would turn on all the bedroom lights for the show I
was going to put on for myself.
An hour later I was wearing those panties, along with a bra from my
secret stash (a pretty training one to allow for my lack of boobs), and
a short, filmy top. I sat on the edge of the bed and rolled pale
stockings up my legs, while I licked my lips and practiced keeping my
eyes half-lidded. Next came an application of eye shadow, rouge, and
lipstick. Because she wasn't due back for so long, I treated myself to
using her products. Finally I got the one wig that I kept in the house
and fitted it carefully over my short hair. It was long and reddish
blond, the hair straight all the way to my shoulders, where it rose back
up in a short curl all around.
I was magnificent. I slipped on a pair of her heels, my favorite red
ones, grateful that she hadn't worn them to go out. Strutting to the
kitchen, I poured myself a glass of white wine and sipped it, making a
mental note to be sure to clean any lipstick off the rim of the glass.
I hummed as I went back to the bedroom, glass in hand, set my drink on
the dresser, and began striking poses in front of the long mirror,
delighted in how saucily sexy I looked. I turned around, looked back
over my shoulder, and wagged my bottom. The way the transparent seat of
my wife's panties exposed my snug bottom was thrilling.
My fingers stole up under the bra and I played with my nipples. Feeling
very naughty, I gave my reflection air kisses. Then I sashayed back to
the kitchen for a refill, drained the glass, and poured it full again.
In front of the mirror, I began to talk to myself in my best seductive
slut voice.
"Just look at you," I began in a throaty whisper. "You are such a bad
girl. So naughty. Maybe you need a good hard spanking." I giggled and
swallowed more wine. My less than average penis was hard, standing up
in the panties, but because the narrow section in the front was so dark,
it was invisible. "You are so hot," I purred, rubbing myself through
the thin material. "Such a sexpot." I was feeling totally girly when,
about a half hour later, with the third glass of wine in my system, I
said, "I'll bet June and all her girlfriends would be jealous of a devil
girl like you."
That was when I got the shock of my life. June's voice responded to my
comment, saying, "Why would I would be jealous? I can't see myself
looking and acting like such a tramp, Kenny."
I spun around and there she was, framed in the doorway, with a nasty
grin on her usually sweet face. I nearly fell over my own feet as I
tried to go in two directions at once. I threw one arm across my chest
and clapped the other hand over my crotch. The heels made me stagger
around as I sought an escape route. My wife laughed and moved
confidently toward me.
She grabbed me by the wrist and said, "I loved watching you. And
listening to you. Also, recording your performance for posterity on a
pair of spy cameras I installed. And yes, they have sound, so your
naughty dialogue got saved, too."
"You... uh... don't understand," I extemporized weakly. "This was just
an... experiment. I've never done it before."
"That's not what the mini-movies I've been making of you say. I have
about a half dozen of them stored on the computer. And if you think
your girly act would make my friends jealous, I can share everything
with them. I'm sure they'd love to see that scene from last week, when
you did a dance wearing nothing but a garter belt and stockings, while
playing with your little dick."
I tried to think of something else to say in my defense but it was
hopeless. My narrow shoulders slumped. I said, barely audible, "Yes,
dear."
"So you and I need to have a talk about how we're going to deal with
this, Kenny. Or how about if I call you... hmmm... Candy? Sound good,
sweet cheeks?"
"But I don't want you to..." I sighed in surrender. "Whatever you
think sounds good."
"Let's head to the living room. And no, I don't want you to change a
thing before we go." She snapped her fingers and gestured for me to
precede her. As I passed she gave my backside a hard slap and laughed.
"And pour me a glass of wine, Candy girl. Move that pretty ass. Let me
see it wiggle."
I obeyed. Despite the humiliation of getting caught, and the fear of
what was to come, being seen in drag also had a giddying side. My heart
was fluttering as I poured her a glass of wine, filling it almost to the
brim in the hope that alcohol would calm her. I had never thought of
being bossed around as something appealing and yet, at some level, it
was working for me. I brought June the wine and found her on the sofa,
leaning back, ankles crossed, looking smug and relaxed. She accepted
the drink and took a sip, leaving me standing before her and feeling
awkward.
"If you want us to stay together," she said firmly, "you're going to
have to do whatever I say. Or you can leave and try to find someone
else as attractive as me. And to be honest, Candy, with your laughably
small dick, your odds would be really poor. Right?"
"Yes," I peeped.
"So what I'm thinking is that I like the idea of having you look like a
sissy. And you know how I'm always suggesting that you use your mouth
on me in bed, between my legs? And how you always get all pouty and say
that it's not manly? Well, now you're not manly, so I'll expect you to
be ready, willing and able to eat me whenever I say. Understood?"
"But... I've never done it. I don't know the right way."
"Not to worry. I'll be sure you get lots of practice. Lots and lots
and lots." She paused in case I wanted to protest any more. When I
remained silent she went on, "And while you're dressed you will speak in
your Candy voice. Soft and meek. And maybe kind of breathy." June
pursed her lips as she thought of more new rules to establish. "And I
want you to act girly like you did in front of the mirror, but instead
of trampy I want you all shy and awkward, which shouldn't be too
difficult, considering that you obviously don't want to be seen this
way." She chuckled. "But every weekday you'll change from Kenny to
Candy as soon as you get home. And on the weekends you'll be in cutie
mode pretty much the entire time."
All I could do was stand there hugging myself. I realized that I was
assuming just the type of posture she had called for. Finally, to break
the silence, and so she wouldn't get annoyed, I told her, "I'll do
whatever you say, June. Just please don't show those movies of me to
the girls."
"No? And not to the guys you work with? Are you giving orders to ME?"
"I'm not. I'm sorry."
"That's better. Only I give orders in this house. And my first order
is..." She took a languid drink of wine. "... follow me to the
bedroom. I want to get started on your new role as my pussy slave."
Suddenly she got a devilish look on her face. "And now I won't have to
put up with your tiny dick inside me. Ever. You were having fun
touching yourself while you were putting on your show, so from now on
that's how you'll take care of your sex needs. By jerking off. But
only when I say so and... oh, here's an idea... with me watching. And
coaching. And maybe, if you're a good girl, giving you some added
incentive." She demonstrated by sliding the hem of her dress up several
inches to give me a look. "Go on, Candy," she insisted. "Slip your
panties -- well, my panties actually -- down to about mid-thigh and give
your pecker some stroking." When I didn't comply immediately, she
snapped, "Do it, sissy!"
In spite of myself I squeaked girlishly, then hooked my thumbs under the
waistband of the panties and got them down where she wanted them.
Reluctantly I moved my hand to my penis and touched it uncertainly. It
didn't respond, I guess because I was so nervous. A few strokes got it
started but not all the way erect. She suggested that I do what I'd
been doing earlier, and toy with my nipples. I felt my cheeks grow warm
as I blushed but I did as if was told. It worked and very soon my
undersized member was sticking out, at its full but unimpressive length.
She snickered. "It's so skinny that maybe I should make you use just
your thumb and one finger. Try that."
I did and it was even more embarrassing than what I had been doing. She
got up and came near. June blew into my ear. She rubbed her knee along
my inner thigh. I whimpered with need.
My wife reminded me, "You're only allowed to finger your dingle when I
say so. And the same goes for spurting." She turned and strolled
toward the bedroom, her bottom swaying sexily. "Now come on. My
pussy's already wet from everything that's happened so far. If being
strict with you and keeping you in panties gets me like this all the
time, you will ALWAYS have the taste of my snatch in your mouth."
In the bedroom she let me raise the panties and then made me undress
her, which added to my need for release. My little balls were drawn up
tight and my stiffness subsided partly but not all the way. It was
shameful enough to have my immature organ on display, but having it at
half mast was even worse. At last, naked except for fishnet stockings,
she laid on the bed and spread her thighs.
"Time for your first lesson in The Oral Arts. I think you know where to
put yourself."
I got onto the foot of the bed and inched up until my face was directly
in front of her mound. My hands went to her thighs and those stockings
were exciting to touch. I lowered my face and gently kissed her smooth
pink labia. She sighed and gave her hips a wriggle. I extended my
tongue to lick up and down and then, thinking of some of the stories I
had read online, lightly sucked her clitoris, which produced a deep
moan. I mixed up my kissing, licking, and sucking, along with some
probing. She advised me when to speed up or slow down, and at one point
had me rubbing her slit with my nose, even poking it inside. I hated
what I was doing but the intimate contact and the feel of those exotic
stockings got me fully hard again. I thought of myself wearing the
fishnets and got more worked up. It was all so confusing.
After about ten minutes she began to pant loudly. I concentrated on her
clitoris and soon gave her a juicy climax, during which I lapped up and
swallowed her juices. I felt utterly unmanned. She murmured softly and
relaxed. When I began to move back she lightly but firmly scolded me
and said she was ready for more attention. I started again but it took
twice as long to get her to the brink, I suppose because she had already
finished once. The idea of having to do that for her all the time was
unnerving. Even so, the thought of her making me do it was
intoxicating. Those might sound like the same thing but my mind was
making a distinction. Being coerced into doing something unpleasant was
strangely appealing.
At last she had her second orgasm. I pulled my panties back up. For
about five minutes afterwards she just lay there while her breathing
slowed back down, enjoying the afterglow. Then she ruffled the hair of
my wig and tickled my ear.
"I just had a really amusing idea," she said sleepily. "You hop out of
bed and go over to your favorite spot, in front of the mirror. That's a
good girl. Take a close look at your reflection, Candy. Do you like
how you look and how those panties hide your itty bitty pecker?"
"S... sort of," I admitted.
"So you see, this doesn't have to be all bad for you. Imagine spending
so much time in your girly clothes. I'm surprised you don't have more
of them. Are there some hidden in the attic or wherever?"
"I... um... rented a storage space."
"Oh my," she said in a stage whisper. "My sissy husband has a whole
wardrobe that I can dress him up in. We'll have to start bringing it
back here tomorrow, with me deciding what I want to see you in first."
She got out of bed and went behind me. "For right now, let's see you
lower those panties partway again and get your hand on that Vienna
sausage of yours that's supposed to be a cock."
I did it and she moved so close that I could feel her bare breasts
pressing against my back. Her arms snaked around, she pushed my bra up
out of the way, and her fingers found my receptive nipples, to start
teasing them. Of course it got me completely hard in seconds. I
groaned with pent up need.
"That's a good baby," she praised seductively, her chin on my shoulder.
"Look at how your hand hides that tiny pickle between your legs. Maybe
you'd better just use your thumb and first finger. No, don't even make
a ring out of them. Just touch yourself lightly and keep stroking.
That's right, Candy. Now you're my wuss, my stroking sissy."
June nibbled on my earlobe. I couldn't stop staring at myself, my made
up face and that cute wig. She told me I was going to have to get rid
of the little bit of body hair I had and keep it off. The thought of
being made that much more feminine caused my sexual temperature to rise
higher. I was moving toward an overdue ejaculation but didn't want it
to happen while she was looking. Still, what other choice did I have?
And even if I could hold back, she still had plenty of video of me in my
female persona to shame me with. I closed my eyes to try to lessen my
mortification but she playfully told me to keep them open. She also
wanted me to change the angle of my penis, aiming it higher.
My wife increased the pressure on my nipples, at the same time biting
the side of my neck. It was too much and I spurted. There was one hard
shot, then a medium, and finally an even weaker effort, so that the
mirror was slimed in several places, the whole mess running down the
surface in slow motion.
"Oh, dear," she mock-sympathized, "you got your jizz all over my
beautiful mirror. Now you have to clean it off."
"Okay," I said breathily. "I'll go get a washcloth or something."
"No, no, no, Miss Candy. What you'll do is get down on your knees and
lick it clean. Lots and lots of licking. A yummy sissy snack."
"I c... can't. It's my... semen."
"Poor baby. I guess you'll just have to get used to cleaning up after
yourself. I'm being nice enough to let you jerk your gherkin because I
think you've been a good girl. And I can do that a lot. But you can't
expect me to follow you around taking care of all the cream you squirt."
She tittered. "I'd get rid of your messes if I was giving you blowjobs,
which I won't be doing. And I won't be letting you into my pussy. At
least not with your baby dick. Only your tongue will get to penetrate
me. Now show me how you can cooperate, or I might not decide to let you
play with your pork rind for a week or two. Or a month."
Feeling totally defeated, I collapsed to my knees, extended my tongue,
leaned forward, and took a lick of my own ejaculate. It was salty. My
throat constricted. I winced as I slurped it all up and then went over
each area a second time. June told me I could finish the job later with
paper towels and window cleaner. I sobbed and told her I would do that.
She patted me on the top of my wig.
That was six weeks ago. Since then she's had me show her the sites I
like to visit on the computer, from which she got some wicked ideas.
For instance, I always have to sit when I use the toilet. And if she
wags her finger up and down in my direction, it means I'm expected to
curtsey. But right then I had changed into the abbreviated top, barely-
there thong with its humiliating bow, fishnet stockings (which was
ironic because I'd just been thinking of her wearing the same thing that
first night, and how I'd coveted them), and the red glittery shoes. I
went to her bedroom door. I had on heavier cosmetics than I had used
when I was just dressing for myself. Now there was too much eye make-up
and I had outlined my lips and filled in the space with a color called
Magenta Madness, making my mouth appear overly large. The wig I had on
was one that had been in my storage locker, one that fell to my jawline
and was made of some obviously synthetic material, all gold and red
striped. June liked to call it my 'slut wig'.
She was waiting for me on the bed, wearing a short belted robe with
nothing under it. My wife made me assume a series of rude poses, while
my face expressed how much each one embarrassed me. I had to play with
my sensitive nipples, and then pull aside the minimal covering of the
thong in front to stroke myself, this time with a finger-and-thumb ring.
Then she told me to get into position but not do anything yet. I was
lying on my hard-on, which kept it from wilting. As close as I was to
my target, I couldn't avoid inhaling her feminine musk. After a month
and a half of servicing her, the act and even just that proximity, made
me eager to earn my masturbation privileges and kept me in a condition
of anticipatory arousal. June took her phone from the bedside table,
flipped it open, and hit a pre-set number.
Looking at me, she winked and said, "I got back in touch with a guy I
knew when I was single. He was always a great lay. With a huge cock.
I hope you don't mind if I chat with him. You can just start kissing my
pussy on the outside, but not doing anything else."
I lay there with a stiff dick and a dropped jaw. This couldn't be
happening.
But suddenly she was saying, "Hey, Chuck. It's me again, June. It was
so great talking to you the other day. And going out for coffee. Got
me thinking about how wonderful we used to be together. Especially in
bed."
She listened to something he said and then laughed. A snap of her
fingers in my direction made me pucker up and kiss her outer lips, which
were narrow and didn't protrude much. I whimpered with upset as she
continued talking with her former bed partner, continuing to be openly
flirty and inviting. They went back and forth for a half hour, with me
smooching her pussy the entire time. By the end she was quite moist and
the two of them had agreed to go out on Friday night. I was in mild
shock. It felt like I was being sucked down in a whirlpool,possessed by
submissiveness that made it impossible for me to try to escape. She was
going on that date no matter how I felt about it, and I could only play
along with her wishes. After all, I didn't want to risk losing my
rights to dress up and pull my pitiful little dick.
*********
Whew. Things aren't going well for this husband. SIBC? If so, what
would you like to see happen to him?
Dottie
- 12.12.2021
- 17
- 0
