“Well!” Mark pressed. Again, no reply. “You’re more of a flaming pansy than Alicia even mentioned, aren’t you?” an impatient Mark demanded.
“Please,
Master Manley,” Shelley whimpered. “Don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t hurt you, you pantywaist sissy. I just want to make certain we have an understanding and see eye-to-eye.”
With that, Mark placed his large hands around Shelley’s slender waist - his fingers nearly touching around the maid’s waist-cinched tummy. As if he were a feather, Mark lifted the maid until they were head to head, while Shelley trembled like a leaf.
“I understand that you’re unable to satisfy Alicia like a real man should - and now I can certainly understand why. Now, you little fairy, what is it you want to ask me?”
“Please, Master Manley,” Shelley begged with a tear streaming down his cheek. How completely humiliated he felt. Not only did he have to endure the indignity of not being able to perform with his fiancee as a normal male would, but she had confessed his inadequacy to her lover. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“Alicia expects you to willingly accept your proper position in our relationship.” Mark tightened the squeeze around Shelley’s waist, causing the delicate youth to vent a tiny shriek. “It is your duty to follow her desires.”
Shelley, who always had a very low tolerance to pain, consented in a soft, trembling voice, “Please, Master Manley, will you make love to Alicia?”
“How often, little sissy?”
“A-a-as often as you’d like,” came the humbled reply.