A feminized basket ball player

“I suppose it doesn’t.” I answered almost in a whisper.”You suppose it doesn’t do you. Well you got that one right at least. No, I suppose it doesn’t matter what you mind and what you don’t. You have a lot of work to do to make this up to me you know. Imagine my embarrassment. here I am thinking I married a man. A man to care for me, to bring home the money, to make love to me. Sure you are just a pathetic little weakling. Sure you are an embarrassment of a man, particularly next to me, but still you were always my embarrassment of a man. Even if you were pathetic in bed, you always made nice big friends at the gym for me to fuck. Oh you might as well know, I’ve been fucking your whole basketball team – you’re a running joke – didn’t you know? But that’s nothing to concern you, you’ll be much more embarrassed before I get through with you. The point is, imagine what a position you put me in when I found out that MY little pathetic excuse for a husband was actually some other woman’s bitch. That you called some STRANGER, half way across the country and humiliated yourself in that way to her. What would people think if they found out? What would they think of ME. They could think that I couldn’t control you. What do you think of that?”