Sissy Dick Johnson free porn video

Sissy Dick Johnson by Throne He was really annoying. Dick Johnson was a wimpy guy. Short, unathletic, with his brown hair falling over his forehead and ears. At 21 he had no significant experience with females. And he was smitten with Angel Giovanni. She was stunning. Short and buxom, with her jet-black locks streaming halfway down her back. At 24 she had confidence born of being a sex bomb. And she was irritated by Dick Johnson. Since he had moved into her apartment building, the jerk was always showing up. He would offer to run errands or help with household chores. In her mind she likened him to a buzzing fly that kept flitting around her head and occasionally landed on her shoulder. He wasn't that bad looking, but his eager puppy-dog attitude turned her off. So, Angel came up with a solution. She would offer him a relationship that he could not possibly accept. That would convince him that there was no future for them as a couple. She would be sure to make her deal so one-sided and unfair that he would run the other way when he heard it. Let him go back to his own place and watch action movies and enter role-playing games on-line, or whatever it was he did in his spare time. That was why, when he came to her door yet again, she surprised the shrimp by inviting him in. All Angel had on was a short, belted robe with a tie at the waist. It didn't close all the way over her fabulous bust, so there was plenty of cleavage to see. Dick goggled at the glorious sight as he entered her residence. She sat him down on the sofa and stood over him, with her hands on those dramatically flaring hips he had so often admired. "Here's the thing, Dicky," she said, intentionally using the diminutive form of his name. "You keep hinting that you want to be my boyfriend. Right?" "Well, sort of," he said hopefully. "Fine. But it would have to be on my terms, with no discussion or complaints. Total obedience." He nodded happily. Damn. She would have to move on to the next level. "Whatever I said about you, even if it was insulting, you would have to accept." "Okay." He just wasn't seeing how bad this could become for him. She tried making it extreme. "And you would wear whatever I told you to. Even if it was something that made you look stupid." "All right." Angel hadn't expected him to be that desperate. She decided to spell it out for him. "You would be my boyfriend, but I'd be free to date other guys. I wouldn't let you near my body, even though guys I went out with would get to do whatever they wanted." "Well... I understand." He didn't sound as if he liked her bargain, but he was so entranced that he was willing to accept it. Now it was her who was desperate. She had to think of something that would be a deal-breaker for him. Then inspiration struck. "One more rule. I said about you wearing whatever I decided on. You should know that I might want you to dress in... girly stuff. How about that?" He was obviously upset. She had pushed the right button. But then he squared his narrow shoulders, lifted his weak chin, and said, "I'll do it." Good grief. Now she was stuck with him. At the same time, the idea of having that much power over someone gave her a tingle. The sensation was localized between her legs. It would be a kick to run this weenie's life. Keep him at her beck and call. Deny him any touching or even kissing. And the thought of putting him into panties, especially because he obviously wouldn't appreciate that, was getting her wet. She suddenly knew how she wanted to start. "Let's go, then. For starters, you can stand up and get naked, so I can see what I'm working with." "Oh. Are you sure?" "Hey, do you want to back out of this already?" She ran her finger down the front of her brief robe, edging the material to the side to expose a bit more skin. "Whoa. No. I'm... I..." The rest of his response was the begin unbuttoning his shirt. "That's better," she told him, her tone suggesting that she had little tolerance for hesitation or resistance. He appeared to be having second thoughts. That bonus peek at her chest had brought him back under control, but she wanted to get her hooks deeper into him. Angel put herself where he had been sitting. As she crossed her shapely legs, she intentionally let the bottom of the robe spread out, so that he got a flash of her panty-clad pubes. Let him try to extricate himself from her trap after seeing that. It worked splendidly. He was soon out of his shirt, revealing a pale hairless chest. Then came his shoes, socks and pants. Now he had on only his jockey shorts. Her attention was drawn to his crotch. Jeez. Where was his cock? There was only a slight bump where a full package should reside. He put his thumbs under the elastic waistband and shyly started to lower his last covering. What Angel saw next made her gasp with surprise. Then she got herself under control. To make this work the way she wanted it to, as a long- term plan started to come together in her mind, she had to project complete self-assurance. Putting on a condescending expression, she focused on his genitals. First, there was only a small patch of wispy pubic hair. Then there was his penis, if it could even be called that. Dick had not only the smallest one she had ever seen on a post-pubescent male, but one tinier than she would have believed existed. Angel had heard of micro-penises but now she was seeing one in the flesh, though there wasn't much flesh to see. His pecker was about an inch long. She immediately wondered if it got much bigger when hard. That was something she would have to check. It was just a tiny pink button, as in button mushroom. Below that was an itty-bitty scrotum, containing two marble-size testicles. They were probably the reason he had such scant pubic hair and no sign of facial growth. What had started out as a dare, meant to drive him away, had turned into a game that she could play on and on. Angel decided, right then, to keep him under her thumb, break him down and remold him any way she pleased, and turn him into a slave to her will. She knew the perfect next step to take. "Damn, Dicky. What's that between your legs? It looks like a newborn mouse. No girl could look at that without laughing." She backed up that assertion by chuckling at him. "You must have been somewhere else when they were handing out cocks, because you sure didn't get one. By the time you showed up, all that was left was scraps. That's just a fraction of a prick." "I guess I'm sort of smaller than average." That provoked a hearty laugh from his tormentor. "Are you kidding? What you have is just a joke. A misfire. That thing is a freak of nature. It should be in a sideshow." She assumed the tone of a carnival barker. "Come one, come all. See the incredibly tiny dick. Witness a grown man with the genitals of a baby. He's still waiting for his growth spurt, but it will never come. Puberty passed him by. Step inside and see the cock-less wonder." Dick was blushing. He tried to cover his shameful parts with his hands, but she snapped at him not to do that. Angel got to her feet. She went to him. "Hand's behind your back, Dicky." She raised one leg and brought her silky thigh into contact with his crotch. He whimpered with need. As soon as she moved her leg a few times, he got an erection, if that term wasn't too much. "There's a big improvement," she stated sarcastically. "You grew from one inch to about two-and-a-half. And didn't get much thicker. Even the head is wrong. It just kind of tapers down. Can you even pee through that thing?" "I... yes." "And do you play with it?" Caught off guard, he answered without thinking, "Yes." When he realized what he had admitted, his cheeks flushed bright red. She grinned maliciously. "When you tickle your dingle, do you think about me?" Naked and afraid, he was too broken down already to lie to her. With downcast eyes, he confessed, "Yes, Angel. I'm sorry." She liked hearing him apologize. Angel would make sure there was a lot more of that to come. "Don't stare at the floor when you talk to me," she insisted. "Look me in the eyes. And give me the details about your dirty fantasies. Let's hear it, tiddle-dick." He cringed but started speaking. "I just think of myself being allowed to touch you." When that obviously wasn't enough, he went on, "Touching your... breasts. And tweaking the nipples. But not hard. Just enough to make them get firm." "You're a naughty boy, aren't you, Dicky?" "I am." She liked making him admit shameful facts, too. This was getting to be even more fun than she first expected. "So, let's see you get hold of your junior joystick and give it a few yanks. Just use your thumb and one finger. That's more than enough for your puny pecker." He did it, plainly mortified to be committing 'self-abuse' in front of his dream girl. While she had him so vulnerable, she asked, "Don't you think a misbehaving boy like you, a pervert, with such a miserable little pecker, should have to wear panties? Jockey shorts are too butch for you. White's not your color. You need something girly and pastel, for starters. Correct?" "I can't do that," he squeaked. "Oh? Are you reneging on our agreement already? Didn't you agree to wear whatever I said? Or are you calling me a liar about that?" "No. I'm sorry. You're right. I was just being... stupid." Putting himself down. She added that to her growing list of small victories. Now it was time for a much bigger one. "You're in luck," she told him. "I have a six-pack of pretty panties I got for my niece. How convenient. They'll be perfect for your narrow hips. And you certainly don't need any extra space in the gusset, do you?" He looked at her blankly, not being familiar with that term. She clarified, "The part that covers a girl's pussy. When you wear them, it'll be almost the same. Your baby pickle won't take up any room at all. Will it?" "No." "Just keep jerking while I go get your new underwear." "But I..." She cut him off with an angry look. "No backtalk. Put your thumb in your mouth, to remind you not to say dopey things." Still slowly pumping his miniature endowment, he brought up his free hand and stuck his thumb between his lips. Angel stated the obvious, "You are a ridiculous sight, Dicky Doodle." Angel left the room. He watched her plump but firm thighs moving. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. At last, he had gotten near to Angel. But what she required was too much to bear -- almost. Despite his deep shame, and the probability that his situation would get even more awful, he couldn't bring himself to grab his clothes and flee. In fact, where were his clothes? Oh no. She had taken them when she left the room, while his attention was concentrated on those desirable legs. Dick's neighbor reappeared. She was tearing the cellophane off the package of lingerie. Angel selected a pair of the bikini-style panties that was pale yellow. She held it out to him. "Drop your dick and get into these quick." He did as he was told, unable to regain his mental equilibrium. All he could do was obey. The hapless young man stepped into one side of the undergarment and then the other. As he worked them up his slender legs, he couldn't miss how seductively they slid over his skin, where nothing but the finest peach fuzz grew. He shivered at the way it felt. His tiny tool was still stiff, so it made a bump against the front of the panties. A wet spot appeared. Angel shook her head and gave him an irritated sigh. "That won't do. It looks silly to have that immature wink-wink ruining the line of those panties. Try pushing it down. There's not even enough to tuck it under. OMG, Dicky. You are a lost cause in the manhood department. Okay, at least now it's less noticeable. Move your fingers away from Mr. Baby-Carrot. Let the sad little thing get soft again. In fact, let's take your mind off it. Show me how a sissy like you walks when he's properly dressed in pretty panties. Come on. Move around and swish those hips." He froze up for a moment. This was too much. The insults about his penis dimensions. And now putting him in girly underthings. Plus expecting him to assume a matching gait. He looked at her, praying silently for some sign of mercy. Instead, what he saw was an impossibly alluring but heartless female. He understood now that she was unattainable. Yet, if he went along with this increasingly bizarre scenario, he could at least be near her. So, against his better judgement, burning with fresh humiliation, he did as he was told. Dick held his arms out slightly from his sides. He let his wrists go limp. Taking small steps and putting one foot in front of the other, making sure his hips swayed, he sashayed around his goddess's living room like what she had called him -- a sissy. How could he have fallen so low, in such a short time? He thought again of his absent clothes. In the pockets of those pants were his wallet, with his cash and credit cards and IDs. Worse, his keys were there. He couldn't drive without them. In fact, he couldn't even enter his own apartment. If she chose to, Angel could keep him a prisoner in her place. He didn't have the confidence to demand his possessions back, and doubted he could best her physically. Maybe he truly was a weakling pansy. She indicated that he should twirl. Then Angel had him strike a series of marginally erotic poses. She laughed openly at him. "That's the ideal look for a wuss with no dick," she announced. "But there's still something missing. How about some -- make-up?" This time when he thought of objecting, the thought didn't get translated into words. He just stood there in his most recent posture, one hand on the back of his head and the other on his hip, looking like a gay, retro, pin-up model. "Come along," Angel said. "Into my boudoir." Wow. He was going to visit her inner sanctum. The place where she slept. Perhaps she brought other guys in there. When he saw her bed, he came to a standstill. "Yep," she told him. "That's where the magic happens. Sometimes I drag a hunky dude back here for a long night of hot sex. You have to remember, though, that every one of them has the right equipment for the job. I can't keep my hands off a jumbo size cock. Or my mouth. And when they cram all that meat into my pussy, it makes me yowl like an alley cat in heat. I'm a real slut for it, Dicky. But you don't have to worry. Why would I be interested in a boy in panties, with a hamster dick, who's about to have his face painted? You're as safe as safe can be." He trembled at that onslaught of bad news. She led him to her vanity table and sat him down. Angel used something to wipe his face, presumably cleansing it before proceeding. Then she applied foundation. Next, she went to work with some of her plentiful tools of beautification, on his eyes, cheeks and mouth. It was so odd to have those brushes, pads and tubes touching him, their scents lingering on his skin. When he got a good look at himself in the mirror, his eyes went wide. Because they were darkly outlined, with wings at the outer edges, the effect was disorienting. Was that honestly his reflection? Before he could recover from the shock, she said, "We did the face, so we have to do the hair to go with it. Am I right or am I right?" "You're... right?" When he spoke, the face in the mirror mouthed his words. "Good girl," Angel congratulated. "I'm glad to see you getting into the spirit of this. After all, it's for your benefit." He didn't quite understand what she meant, yet the idea of having this real-life succubus desire to do anything positive for him, even if it was something she wanted and he didn't, registered as a positive happening. Angel got busy with combs and then a brush, followed by gel, told him to close his eyes, and finished with some sort of spray. As she stepped back, he blinked and saw that his hair was fuller and had an overall shape, parted on the side and falling in a smooth curve across his forehead. He didn't know if he should smile or cry. She had done a fantastic job, but why did he have to look like a girl? He still had that residual mental image of himself getting physical with her. Now the best he could hope for might be to act more as a gal pal. His head was spinning. "Okay," she declared. "You can walk the walk again. And do some of those model stances. But this time I just have to take photos. This is too good not to record." The last thing he wanted was for her to have pictures of him this way. But what could he do? Dick was sliding further and further down the slippery slope of surrender to femininity. He obediently performed another walk of shame, flapping his hands, and pursing his outlined and brightly colored lips (a shade called Peach Pucker), while fluttering his long thick eyelashes. Angel snickered as she captured image after image. Her robe's belt had loosened, and he kept gawking at her breasts, which were wobbling and making themselves even more visible. She did something with her phone that he thought was sending the photos and a text to someone, though he hoped not. Then she led him to the modest kitchen, where she had him don a ruffled apron for an added half dozen shots. The final one featured Dick wearing yellow rubber gloves and pretending to wash dishes, smiling like he was in a 1950s ad for some household product. Then she let him remove the apron and sit at the small table in the dining alcove. Angel got out a bottle of red wine and poured them each a glass. She took a sip and nodded at Dick to do the same. Even though he had a low tolerance for alcohol, he did what she wanted. Gee, maybe they really could be close friends. Even just playing with cosmetics and doing more photos might be okay, if it included seeing her and getting more naughty glimpses of what he had only dreamed of seeing before. They were almost done their wine. His mind was buzzing. That's when there was a knock on Angle's door. She called out, "It's unlocked. Come on in." OH NO. Dick gripped his glass with both hands. Someone else was going to see him in this disgraceful state. The possibility of private moments with Angel vanished. Who had entered the apartment? Was it one of those well-hung guys she had bragged about bagging? No, he saw, as another girl, sexy like Angel but much slimmer, entered the room. "Yo, girl," Angel greeted. "Pour yourself a glass of wine. This is my neighbor Dicky. I'm helping him get in touch with his feminine side." "Hey," the newcomer said to Dick. "I'm Carmen. Angel's cousin. I got an apartment on the next floor. Just moved in." "H... hello," Dick managed to say, in a strained whisper. "Oh," Carmen enthused. "He even sounds like a girl." "Now he does." Angel drilled Dick with her eyes. "And he's going to keep on talking like that. Aren't you, Dicky?" "Yes." He kept his voice high and soft. "Whatever you say, Angel." Carmen wanted to know, "But how come you're still calling him Dicky? That's a boy's name. She needs something girly." "Good idea. How about... Dee Dee?" "Or Denice." "Maybe something sultry like... Desiree." "Perfect." Carmen looked straight at Dick. "And she'd fit into my clothes. I have a whole box that was for the thrift store. From my partying days, when I dressed kind of cheap." "I can't wait to see him in them. Do you want to bring everything down?" Angel lit up with an inspiration. "Or should we take him up there? Just the way he is?" Carmen laughed. "He might get busted for public nudity. But do you have, like, that super-long scarf you wore last winter? She could wrap herself up in that." "Sure. It's in the hall closet. Let me get it." To Dick she said, "Don't run off anywhere -- Desiree." Carmen told him, "When we get up there, I have to see this trinket you have where a cock should be. My friend says it's so small, but I figure she's exaggerating." Angel returned with the scarf, which was wide and as long as Dick was tall. She wrapped it around his neck, leaving most of its length hanging down. She said, "Hurry up and figure how you want to cover yourself with that. We're leaving in about one minute." He tried several ways of doing it, but none were satisfactory. There was too much bare skin and not enough scarf. Still, he had to do the best he could. Dick settled on winding it around his chest and holding it together there, while stuffing the end down the front of his panties so the bump of his pecker was less evident. The girls herded him out the door and down the hall toward the elevator. The near-nude youth panicked and said, "What if someone is getting off? Or waiting to go up?" "No problem," Carmen advised. "You can take the stairs." She pointed toward the access door. As he was agonizing over what to do, the elevator opened. There was no one inside, but the girls rushed in and hit the button to close the doors. Carmen called out, "See you upstairs, pencil dick." Then they were gone. He rushed to the stairwell door, using both hands to keep the scarf in place the best he could. There were two flights of stairs and he couldn't see or hear anyone on them. Dick scampered up, his nerves getting stretched ever tauter as he hurriedly ascended. When he burst out of the exit, the girls were nowhere to be seen. But there was a middle-aged Black woman, very full-figured in a BBW way, coming toward him. She stared at the ridiculous sight he made and shook her head. As she got closer, she muttered, "Crazy pervert." He retreated back through the door, leaving it open only a crack. There was a clear view of the elevator. When she got on, the girls weren't there. Where had they gone? Were they already inside Carmen's apartment and, if so, which one was it? Knocking on doors was not an option, not half-naked, with his face made up and hair fluffed. Dick cowered behind the door, trying to come up with a solution, for several minutes. Then the elevator opened again, and the girls staggered out, convulsed with laughter. They spotted him in his hiding place. Carmen hurriedly unlocked her door and ducked inside. Angel followed. He raced toward them, but the door slammed. There was more laughter from behind it. He rapped frantically, trying not to be too loud and attract attention. At last they let him in. He was practically in hysterics. Angel noticed the scarf bunched up inside the panties. "Hey, you finally have a bulge down there." Carmen chortled. "So, when do I get to see this half-size dick of Desiree's?" "You heard the lady," Angel told him. "It's showtime, wuss. The big reveal. Flash her that killer cock." With his eyes blinking, nose running, and lips quivering, Dick pulled out the scarf and tossed its end back over his shoulder. He inched the panties down, every increment of lowering them costing him added shame. When his wee dick popped into sight, Carmen let out some swear words in Italian. She said to Angel, "Girl, you told me it was small. You didn't say it was miniscule. That's like some super villain hit it with a shrink ray. I mean, if it were any tinier, it would be a gumdrop." "Are you saying I shouldn't let him screw me?" Angel asked her friend with mock seriousness. "No way. That things not worth a fuck, or even a BJ." "Right? It's like a spare pinky finger." "That's a fact." To Dick she said, "All right, Desiree. Lose the panties and put the scarf aside. It's time for a fashion show, starring you." From behind her sofa, the apartment renter retrieved the box of clothes destined for a thrift shop. She pulled out a belly shirt and a pair of mini shorts made of some stretchy material. Dick blanched when he saw what she had. He didn't want to wear that. At the same time, he definitely didn't want to stay in just panties... or nothing at all. So he removed the pale-yellow underwear and held out his hands to be given the new items. Carmen didn't pass them over. She said, "How about if you show some appreciation, Desiree? Let's hear you asked politely for these things, that are so appropriate for a no- dick like you." "I..." What did they want to hear? He maintained his subdued sissy voice and remembered to show some matching body language. Standing there with his hips cocked, both hands on the middle of his chest, one atop the other, he asked, "May I please have those precious goodies that you picked for me?" Carmen wanted to know, "Why are they the right look for you?" He swallowed the remains of his pride and told her, "Because I have a tiny dick, and that means I need to be treated this way." That wasn't enough, he could tell, so he added, "Treated like a sissy dick." "Right. Sissy Dick Johnson. Desiree to her friends." She tossed him the two pieces of clothing. Under the watchful eyes of both women, Dick got into the abbreviated top, which left his soft midriff bare, and the barely-there shorts, with their tight rear lifting and separating his buttocks, and the snug crotch pressing his genitals firmly against his body. When the girls made him strut around, he was aware of how whorish he looked. They had him assume suggestive poses, while they took more pictures. Then they stopped to have fresh glasses of wine, from a bottle that had been chilled in the fridge. Dick was made to kneel silently by Angel's chair. Even after all the disrespect that had been heaped on him, he couldn't keep from gazing up at her with adoration. Then it was time for another change of outfit. Now they had him dress in a pink baby doll nightie. It was see-through and the matching panties had an open crotch. He had to arrange his tiny three-piece set so that it protruded through the space provided. Then Carmen pulled a straight-backed chair away from the wall and told him to sit in it. She got behind Dick and put her hands on his bare smooth shoulders. "You know, we've been kind of mean to you. And that's not fair. It isn't your fault that your pickle stopped growing when you were eleven years old. Right? And it's sad that you'll never be able to satisfy any woman with it. Isn't that true?" "I... suppose." "In fact, you've never gotten the chance." With added force she asked, "Have you?" "No." "So, you're a virgin, aren't you, Desiree?" "I... well... yes." He sniffled. "Oh my. We've got ourselves a virgin boy who looks better as a girl. But maybe we can help him." She leaned down to blow into his ear. "Would Desiree like Carmen to be nice and try to do something to help her?" "I... guess so." He wasn't sure where this was going but didn't imagine it would be anywhere good. "Well, here's what you need. I'm going to tease you and tease you, to make that dickie grow. I bet if I get you heated up enough, we can add another inch or two easily. Just trust me." Still behind him, she dropped her hands to the middle of his chest, felt through the filmy material of the sleepwear, and located his nipples. Carmen began to lightly touch them and was rewarded with a needy moan. She kept it up, gently tugging and then rolling the nubs between her fingers. They got firm, which made her tantalizing even more effective. He squirmed his bottom around on the hard seat and whimpered with frustration. His undersized penis stood up, framed by the opening in the panties. Carmen didn't relent. She whispered lewd suggestions to him. Angel helped with the effort. She pulled up her top and displayed those sizable, buoyant melons of hers. Angel played with her own nipples and called across to Dick, "Hey, we're both getting our titties tickled. My clit is poking out and so is yours. I mean your dick. Sorry. It's hard to tell the difference." He was seeing Angel's precious breasts. If only the circumstances could be different. This wasn't the scene for which he had longed. It was supposed to be him fingering her nipples, and then putting his lips on them, with her loving every second of it, while urging him to do more. Carmen continued until he was cross-eyed from unmet needs. Dick had to blink back tears. At last she stopped and left him huffing and puffing. The girls broke up laughing. Angel put her tits away and said, "This is too freaking funny." Carmen snickered. "Who knew it could be so entertaining to torment a loser with a pea pod for a penis and make him look as unmanly as he should?" They went to where their glasses waited, picked them up, and toasted their resounding success. Then each one took a long swallow, while Dick had none. "Best of all," Angel noted, "our pretty plaything here agreed to let me do whatever the hell I wanted to her." "For how long?" "There's no cut-off date. And you're welcome to help me continue taking her into the new life I have planned." "I accept, so long as I can keep making fun of that teeny tinkle-toy of hers. I won't ever get tired of doing that." "No problem. It's the first thing on my list of what we'll be doing to our plaything every time she's with us, which will be often. I'll bet she can't wait to find out what else on the agenda." From Dick, who was shivering with dread-filled anticipation, she wanted to know, "Can you, dinky-dicked Desiree?" He knew her trap was inescapable, especially because he was now more obsessed with her than ever. Dick answered in his best Desiree voice, "I can't wait. I'm looking forward to whatever you do to me. And I deserve every bit of dissing you direct at my silly little pee-pee. I'm sorry I was such a disappointment when I tried to get close to you. Thank you for everything you've done to make me see my true, worthless self... and everything else that you're going to do from now on." ********* (This is an unapologetically superficial fantasy, written for a reader on Deviant Art ((Where my page is under the name Subthrone)) who wanted to see a lot of Small Penis Humiliation. It's a tsunami of SPH, along with coerced feminization for Fiction Mania regulars. I hope it strikes a responsive chord with lots of folks. Please let me know what you think.)