Over the first few weeks Sandra noticed that the slightest masculine actionon passive Mark's part made her angry. She also resented ironing his trouse...sand washing his clothes. Each little thing served to remind her of the manwho hurt her so badly. An idea hatched in her head- she would effeminize theboy until she was comfortable with his presence. His humiliation would alsohelp salve her wounded pride.The first thing she did was throw out his boxer shorts and replace them withfrilly nylon. These girls may be brats, but they couldn't possibly know how to pull the strings of a mature woman by flashing well placed legs. But then again... Who am I k**ding? I can't resist sneaking close up peaks of these legs even if I tried. I might as well 'attempt' do the best I can at NOT looking obvious. Carefully I turn my head and stare long fully at those wiggling suck able toes. If I couldn't only lift one of those feet up to my hungry mouth and suck on each and every one of them. I turn. His vision slowly returned, eyes blinking uncontrollably as he regained consciousness. His head felt like it was freefalling, reeling downward in an odd dervish of grays and browns. The urge to vomit was strong, and he was too weak to resist. Waves of nausea rolled over him. He expected to heave at any moment but thankfully the dizziness and vertigo slowly began to fade. His eyesight painfully resolved itself, and he saw he was sitting at a dark table in a small room. The walls were battleship. "I'm on vacation. I have seen way too much of all of you and I need a break," I laugh, shaking my head. "She's right. We are all on vacation the second we step off this bus, so if any one of you decide to have a one night stand, take responsibly of your damn actions," Danny says, walking out from the back storage bedroom, holding a dark green duffle bag. I nod and I step down from on top of the couch. I let out a deep breath as I walk past Danny, nudging him into the right wall with a grin as.