"Day by Day, Month by Month, Year by Year"

"Day by Day, Month by Month, Year by Year," Part 1
by c.w. cobblestone

A wimp chronicles the femdom/cuck relationship between him, his beloved Molly and her lover DeShawn. Here are the first six months.

YEAR 1
January 1
Well, the calendar may have changed but nothing else has. Molly is still in love with DeShawn. They're still openly flaunting their affair in front of friends and family. I'm still kissing up to both of them and praying they'll continue to let me hang around. So far, so good; the wedding's still on for June, and everyone seems to be finding their roles in this three-way relationship. Unfortunately, my role is being their bitch. But Molly's still here — that's the important thing. I thought for sure when DeShawn came into the picture and stole her heart that she'd run off with him. But to my great relief, she says she wants to go through with the wedding while also maintaining her relationship with DeShawn. She says we're now a "poly triad." I know she's playing me for a fool and is only marrying me because I earn six figures. But I don't care. I love her and would do anything to keep her. Anything. Full stop. The ceremony is scheduled for June 8th, and my New Year's resolution is to not fuck it up.
January 3
Molly didn't say when she'd be home from the New Year's Eve party at DeShawn's friend's house, but I didn't expect her to be gone this long. I'm starting to get worried. Molly's a big girl and can take care of herself, but DeShawn runs with a rough crowd.
January 4
Crisis averted. Molly's been holed up in DeShawn's apartment partying, thank goodness. After she texted me and told me to bring cognac and Burger King, I'd hoped to spend at least a few seconds with my beloved fiancé for the first time this year. Alas, I never even laid eyes on her. DeShawn answered my knock, snatched the bags from my hand and slammed the door in my face after throwing out a flippant "thanks, bitch."
January 5
Molly finally came home but she was only here long enough to change clothes and bitch at me about her car being down to a quarter tank of gas. I thought about telling her she hasn't been home for me to gas her car up but I wisely kept my mouth shut and volunteered to fill her tank right then. She said she was in a hurry, though, and rushed back out. I'm guessing she was either headed to the club or back to DeShawn's place, although she didn't tell me where she was going, and I sure as hell didn't ask. As far as she's concerned it's none of my business what she does — my job is to sit at home and wait for her like a good little toady, ready to kiss her little ass and put up with her sh-it when she gets back.
January 7
I kept dinner warm until finally putting it away at 9. Even if Molly does make it home tonight, she'll most likely be with DeShawn, and they won't be in the mood to eat. I can always heat up something later if they want a post-coital snack.
January 9
When I got home from work nobody was there, although two bags of DeShawn's dirty laundry were waiting for me in the living room. Molly had me do his clothes a few weeks ago and now the arrogant bastard apparently thinks it's my permanent job. I thought about just letting it sit there — then common sense took over. The last thing I want to do is piss him off and give him an excuse to kick my ass again. So, swallowing what little pride I had left, I washed and carefully ironed the clothes of the man who's fucking my fiancé. How pathetic is that?
January 10
My buddy Tim called to tell me he saw Molly making out with DeShawn at the Alexis Club last night. I turned red but gave my speech about how our arrangement allows her to see other men. Tim must be the 10th perso-n to call since Molly and DeShawn started openly dating. I wish my supposed girlfriend and her "black king" would keep their tryst on the down-low but they said they wanted to take their relationship to the next level and I don't get a vote. With everything that goes on in the world these days, I'd hoped their affair wouldn't be a big deal, but I'm finding that people aren't as open-minded as they claim to be. I'm losing friends and alienating family over this "poly" situation. Tim sure sounded disgusted. I guess I can't blame him — if I was my friend, I'd probably be just as outraged at how Molly and DeShawn treat me, and how I put up with it like a sap loser. I imagine it must be painful for my friends and family to watch, but I wish they'd try to see it from my point of view. I love Molly with all my heart. She hurts me, sure. But I'm happier than I've ever been since she came into my life. Why can't people understand that? If I can accept her and the things she does to me, why can't everyone else?
January 13
DeShawn spent the night last night. He and Molly were already hammered when they got back from the club but they wanted another round. They also wanted privacy, so after I served drin-ks, DeShawn handed me his key and told me to go clean his apartment. I said "yes sir" and hauled ass out of there. When DeShawn tells me to do something, I don't fuck around. The guy dislikes me to start with, so I try not to give him any reaso-n to fuck me up. The first time Molly brought him home, I attempted to man up and confront him. I won't ever make that mistake again. I like having teeth too much.
January 14
For the second night in a row, DeShawn stayed over. Molly got mad because I hadn't bought the bottle of wine she'd wanted so she slapped me across the face several times, cutting my nose with her engagement ring. I got blo-od all over my favorite shirt, and she yelled at me about that, too, much to her boyfriend's amusement. Molly is getting meaner by the day and DeShawn keeps egging her on. He loves the situation he's carved out for himself — he knows he could steal her from me any time he wants but he enjoys having me around. In addition to bankrolling the affair, I represent the spoils of his victory; I'm the defeated, shamed white boy whose nose is constantly rubbed in the dirt while he enjoys his prize, my beautiful fiancé. That's why he's so brazen about taking Molly to all the places frequented by my friends and family. He wants everyone to know that Molly is in love with him, and that I'm pathetically hanging around paying the bills and serving as the beta in this budding "poly triad" of ours. Around town, it's making me either a laughingstock or an object of pity. I'm not sure which is worse.
January 17
I got into a big argument with my brother Joel today after he called to tell me he saw Molly and DeShawn at the Towne Theatre "acting like a pair of ani-mals in heat." He and the rest of the family have been pressuring me to leave her ever since DeShawn mopped up the floor with Joel last month. The stupid fuck tried to tell the former Carver State linebacker to stop embarrassing the family by openly carrying on with Molly. DeShawn doesn't like being told what to do. Joel found that out the hard way. His broken nose just healed.
January 20
Nobody was at the condo when I got home from the firm, although I could tell DeShawn had been over, given the wet spots all over the crumpled bedding in the master bedroom. These days, the only reaso-ns I go into Molly's room are to clean, change cum-stained sheets, and wipe her boyfriend's piss stains off the toilet rim in the master bathroom. Molly says her bedroom suite is reserved for "real men" and that I have no business being in there unless it's to clean.
January 24
Molly dropped some devastating news today. She says DeShawn will be going on the honeymoon in June and I'll be staying home. Also, we had planned to take a Mediterranean cruise, but since DeShawn's great-grandmo-ther was from St. Thomas and he's always wanted to go down there, she told me to switch the arrangements. I was bawling like a baby but I clicked onto the travel site and made the required changes. Since the wedding isn't for six months, there was no problem adjusting the plans, although it ki-lled me inside to do it.
January 26
Molly told me to pack her bags because she was headed to Atlanta for a week to hang out with DeShawn's cousins. So, now, just like that, I'm not going to see my beloved fiancé until next Sunday. I don't think she has any idea how much she's breaking my heart with this affair of hers, but if I told her she probably wouldn't care — she'd probably think it was funny. That's how cruel she's become. DeShawn brings out the worst in her. After he told her that it turns him on when she's mean to me, she's been looking for reaso-ns to dog me. He usually rewards her cruelty by fucking the taste out of her mouth — and that makes her want to treat me even worse. Molly is finding out how much naughty fun it can be to make my life miserable, knowing that I'm so hopelessly in love with her I'll put up with anything she dishes out. Deep down, she probably knows what she's doing to me is wrong — but I bet that just makes the whole thing even more delightfully wicked. My former angel is lost in a decadent, BBC-fueled alternative dimension where being bad is good and my pain is hilarious.
February 6
Molly told me to go by her mom's house after work tomorrow to clean. She says I should plan on that being one of my regular weekly duties from now on. I'm getting sick of being everybody's fucking maid. I'm stuck cleaning DeShawn's apartment once a week now. Last week, Molly had me wash her best friend's car after her boyfriend got dru-nk and puked in it. My fiancé has pimped me out to her friends recently for myriad other chores — cleaning up dogsh-it, dropping off library books, picking up drycleaning. Since DeShawn came into the picture, Molly has gleefully let her friends and family know that I'm nothing but her little bitch — and her boyfriend's little bitch, too. She loves recounting the night she brought DeShawn back to the condo for the first time, and I tried to make a stand by telling him to leave. He busted me in the eye, knocking me to the floor, and then kicked me in the ribs until I begged him to stop. The whole time, Molly watched with a glazed look in her eye and fingers in her crotch. After DeShawn bitch-slapped me one last time, he dragged my fiancé into the bedroom and they screamed up a storm while I lay on the living room floor sobbing. That was the first and only time I ever tried standing up to DeShawn, as Molly delights in telling her friends. "DeShawn runs sh-it around here," she says to anyone who'll listen.
February 8
Darlene is such a cunt. It's easy to see where Molly gets her snootiness from. After I left the firm yesterday, I headed straight for my future mo-ther-in-law's house and started cleaning. I busted my ass all night and didn't finish until after 11pm. Did I get a thank-you? Hell no. The whole time I was there, all Darlene did was belittle me and taunt me about DeShawn. Before I left, she pulled down her sweats and showed me her pussy, asking if I remembered what one looked like. It was so embarrassing, I just wanted to run out of there. But I knew not answering her might pose a problem, so I just faked a smile and said, "it has been a while."
February 11
There's nothing more embarrassing than standing outside the dressing room at Victoria's Secret clutching your fiancé's purse while she tries on sexy outfits to wear for her lover on Valentine's Day — especially when she made it known to the salesladies that the lingerie is for someone other than the schmuck holding the bag. I wanted to die when I paid for the purchases, with the women all smirking and making snide remarks. There was no reaso-n for Molly to tell the staff that the lingerie was for another man, other than pure cruelty. On the ride home, I hung my head and bit my lip, doing my best to keep from crying. Molly yelled at me and told me to stop moping, so I sat up straight in the passenger seat and pretended to watch the scenery as it zoomed by.
February 15
Valentine's Day sucks when you're a beta. I cleaned the condo spotless and fixed a special dinner for two. Once the candles were lit and both plates were full, DeShawn gave me his mo-ther's address and told me to report to her house for maid duty. As usual, I said, "yes, sir" and obeyed without hesitation. Jeez, I thought my mo-ther-in-law was bad — Cassandra is ten times worse. From the second I stepped into her house she made it clear that while she absolutely loves Molly and supports her relationship with her so-n, she despises white males. Therefore, she said, she despises me by default. It took seven hours to clean Cassandra's house, which was enough time for her to slap me six times and spit in my face twice after finding fault with my cleaning. When I was finished, she made me stand in the hallway with my legs spread and my hands on my head before kicking me in the nuts as hard as she could. After I collapsed in pain, she told me to kiss her shoe and thank her. I complied, and she kicked me in the head and said "now, get the fuck out, white boy." I'm praying Molly doesn't add cleaning Cassandra's house to my regular duties. That woman has a lot of anger bottled up inside her, and after only one night I can already tell she loves taking out those frustrations on a lily-white ass.
February 16
Well, fuck me. Exactly what I didn't want — DeShawn says from now on I have to go by his mom's house once a week to clean. WTF, man. So, with my recurring appointment at Darlene's house and DeShawn's apartment, that's three nights a week I'll now be cleaning other people's houses, in addition to my chores at home and all the other errands I'm sent on. For Molly and DeShawn, this polyandrous threesome is proving to be a sexy, relaxing lifestyle — but for me, it's demoralizing and exhausting.
February 23
Per Molly's orders, I asked the head of the firm if I can pick up extra cases, or stay late to help the other attorneys with research. Molly wants me to make as much money as I can between now and the wedding because she says she and DeShawn want to "honeymoon in style." She says things like that because she thinks it's funny to hurt my feelings. Sometimes I wish I was strong enough to get out of this abusive relationship. I guess I'm like those battered wives who keep going back to their husbands. Molly treats me like sh-it but I take it. With a smile. A fake smile, but a smile nonetheless.
March 19
Mr. Berkowitz accommodated my request and I've been working 14-hour days for the past few weeks. That's not necessarily a bad thing, since I get to stay away from home longer, thus avoiding abu-se from my fiancé and her lover. Plus, my last few checks have been huge. The bad news is, every dime of that extra money will go toward ensuring that Molly and DeShawn "honeymoon in style." And despite all the extra hours, my domestic load hasn't lightened one iota. I'm still expected to clean Darlene's house every Monday, Cassandra's every Wednesday, and DeShawn's apartment every Thursday. If I get behind on my chores at home, I know Molly will cut me no slack, and if DeShawn's around there's a good chance she'll slap the sh-it out of me if something doesn't get done. She loves showing off for her man by being bitchy to me, and it drives him crazy when she does it. So, I've been ki-lling myself to keep up with everything. It's been rough, but I've managed. Who needs sle-ep?
March 26
I'm completely wrung out physically and emotionally. Last night was hands-down the worst night of my life. I served as the "bitch boy" at a party thrown by one of DeShawn's friends and it was pure fucking hell. Molly made me wear a pair of her panties to the party, and when we got there I was told to strip, other than the pink, lacy underwear. There were about a dozen people there, and I spent the night serving drin-ks and having them pinch my ass and make fun of me. But the worst part was when DeShawn got dru-nk and for-c-ed me to kneel in the kitchen and suck his dick in front of everyone. I've been in complete anguish ever since. I can't get the taste out of my mouth or the thought out of my head that I am now officially a cocksucker. Molly and several other people at the party filmed my debasement with their cellphones, so I'm sure the terrible moment will haunt me forever. I suspect there'll be a lot more such horrible moments, too, because after DeShawn squirted all over my face and hair, he seemed pleased, bragging to his friends that I was a natural. He didn't allow me to clean up, either, saying it would be "disrespectful," so I spent the rest of the evening fetching drin-ks with dried cum on my face and tears in my eyes. It was a mortifying experience, something I wouldn't have wished on my most hated enemy. I suppose it could have been worse — a couple of DeShawn's friends also wanted blowjobs, but he told them I was "his bitch" and therefore off-limits. Molly told me I should feel proud to be DeShawn's bitch. I lied to her and said I was grateful. In truth, I wanted to die when he said that. He's starting to see me as his property.
April 2
During lunch yesterday, Molly told me that she and DeShawn had decided to let me come along on the honeymoon. After I fell over myself thanking her, she smirked and said, "April Fool's." DeShawn got a kick out of my crestfallen expression. He told me he had just the thing to cheer me up, and then made me suck his dick. He's been having me do that a lot since the party last week.
April 7
DeShawn's lease on his apartment is up April 19, and last night I was informed that he'd be moving in with us after that. This isn't exactly a surprise, and I'd been bracing for it — although when Molly made it official, it was still quite the gut-punch. She said I'll be responsible for moving everything, and that I should start packing stuff the next time I clean DeShawn's apartment, so I don't have to do it all at once.
April 10
As if things couldn't get worse, DeShawn told me yesterday that he'd be converting the guest room into his mancave. When I asked him where I was going to sle-ep, he said "in the bathtub for all I care." I don't know if he was joking or not, though, because he laughed when he said it. Whether he was serious or not, if he takes over the guest bedroom I won't have anywhere to sle-ep, since that's the only other bedroom in the condo besides the master suite, and I doubt I'll be allowed to bunk down in there with them. Why should I be allowed a place to sle-ep? I'm just the guy who pays all the bills.
April 12
Well, the mystery over where I'll be sle-eping is solved. Molly says I can put a dog bed in the hall closet. She told me to go buy one now and to break down the bed in the guest room, so everything will be ready for when DeShawn moves in. So, I guess my days of sle-eping in a bed like a normal human being are over. A dog bed in the closet??? WTF.
April 14
I keep hitting new lows. When I was at her house last night, Cassandra made me drin-k her piss. I was in the bathroom scrubbing the floor when she came in brandishing a plastic cup. She sat on the toilet and held the cup under her pussy, filling it with urine. Then, she handed it to me and told me to say "cheers!" before downing the cup in one gulp. I managed to obey although I almost threw up. She told me to thank her for the honor, which I did with all the respect I could muster. Later, when I'd resumed my cleaning, I overheard Cassandra on the phone bragging to her friend about what she'd done. I got a chill when she said, "sure, come on over when he cleans next Wednesday and I'll make him drin-k yours, too."

April 17
Ugh, I can't get this Cassandra situation out of my head. One thing that's bothering me: Is her friend a man or a woman? It was impossible to tell from hearing just her half of the conversation. I suppose it doesn't matter — DeShawn has me sucking his dick constantly now, anyway, and Cassandra's probably going to regularly have me drin-king her piss since the genie's out of the bottle, so what difference does it make whether the perso-n whose pee I have to drin-k is male or female? Piss is piss, right?
April 19
Yet another demoralizing milestone. DeShawn had me lick his ass last night for the first time. He had bits of toilet paper stuck to his bunghole and I gagged when it touched my tongue — which earned me a severe bitch-slap for being "disrespectful." But I managed to get through it in one piece. As I do when giving blowjobs, I just closed my eyes and drifted to my happy place, blocking out the terrible world and concentrating on the dialogue from a favorite movie. Last night it was "A League of Their Own." There's no crying in baseball or when you're tossing your fiancé's boyfriend's salad.
April 20
Well, DeShawn's all moved in. Of course, I did all the work while he sat on his ass and directed. I had to throw out 90% of my stuff since there's no longer room. All that's left are my suits for work and my laptop; everything else got sh-itcanned, including my high school yearbooks, family mementos and almost all my casual clothes. Oh, well. I didn't really need that stuff anyway.
April 21
When I went to Cassandra's after work to clean last night, she introduced me to her friend, a huge woman named Violet. The lady seemed eager to make me drin-k her piss, although she was shy and went into the bathroom alone to pee in the cup. Cassandra made me kneel down and drin-k every drop before thanking her friend for the honor. Then, Cassandra decided to show off, so she made me stand still with my hands on my head while she and her friend took turns kicking me in the balls. When they finally got tired of a***ing me, I was released to clean the house while they chatted in the living room.
May 2
We've got a new household routine. Almost every night now, DeShawn will holler "hey, bitch, come give me my propers," which means I have to find a spot behind him and lick his ass. As you might imagine, it's quite demoralizing to give DeShawn his "propers" when my fiancé is right there watching. Between the constant blowjobs and rim-jobs, I can't say I don't have a sex life anymore. It's not exactly the kind of sex I would've chosen, but I do get a lot of action these days. My mouth does, anyway.
May 5
I overheard Molly talking to her mom on the phone about having kids with DeShawn. He apparently wants a big family, and she told her mom she's glad she'll have me around to change diapers. As strange as it seems, I felt a twinge of satisfaction hearing that. At least it means Molly wants to keep me around long-term.
May 9
Well, I feared this day was coming. DeShawn has decided to take over the wedding. He announced last night that he's going to be my best man and he said he may get his buddies to replace my brothers in the wedding party. He says it's going to be a "poly wedding." I called Joel and told him he was out as best man and that DeShawn would be handling those duties. My brother cussed me out and hung up on me.
May 11
I got into a huge argument with Mom and Dad on the phone today. They said they never want to speak to me again. This has been brewing for some time in my family. I wish things were different, but they made me choose. I chose Molly. They say they can't stand seeing how she treats me. Well, I've learned to live with it — fuck them if they can't.
May 12
Now Joel and Ron aren't coming to the wedding, so I've pretty much alienated my entire family. They say Molly's making a fool out of me by having DeShawn replace Joel as my best man. I told Joel to talk to DeShawn if he has a problem with it, and he shut up right quick. The dumbass learned his lesso-n a few months ago when he tried to tell DeShawn to stop embarrassing the family by being so open about his affair with Molly. I learned the same lesso-n after Molly brought her boyfriend home for the first time and I was stupid enough to protest. The lesso-n? You don't question DeShawn.
May 24
DeShawn has changed the wedding vows. It's already written that I will promise to obey Molly, but DeShawn added the phrase "and I will obey DeShawn as well." Then, since this will be a "poly wedding," DeShawn is going to say a few words, pledging to love and honor Molly until death do they part. The magistrate Molly chose is quite progressive and when she ran the new vows past him, he said they're great. The ceremony is going to be embarrassing as hell, but the whole wedding's going to be a fucking nightmare anyway. I've made up my mind: I'm going to just square my shoulders and get through it, because when it's all over Molly will be my bride. I can't wait. She's in love with another man but I don't care. She'll be my wife, and that means everything to me.
June 1
I understand why everyone was upset with DeShawn replacing Joel as my best man, but there's nothing I can do about it. DeShawn wants a "poly wedding," and DeShawn gets whatever DeShawn wants. He joked that he may even kiss the bride instead of me, although as it gets closer to the wedding, I'm starting to wonder whether or not he was really kidding.
June 3
Since my brothers bowed out of the wedding, DeShawn's friends will replace them at the altar, he informed me yesterday. The wedding's in a few days, so it's too late to get them fitted for tuxes, but DeShawn doesn't care. He told them to "just dress like you're coming to a party." He's expecting it to be a hoot, with free liq-uor and food for his crew, paid for by yours truly.
June 7
Tomorrow's the big day and I can hardly breathe. I'm almost positive no one from my side of the family will be there. It would be nice to have some support, but at the end of the day, what does it matter? By this time tomorrow, I'll be married to the woman of my dreams.
June 9
Well, the deed is done. I'm officially married to the former Molly Chiswick, which has me walking on clouds, although the wedding was every bit the embarrassment I thought it would be. DeShawn hadn't been joking about kissing Molly; when the magistrate said "you may kiss the bride," she turned to her lover and they made out for a good 30 seconds while everyone applauded. My Aunt Edna, who'd been out of the loop, was the only perso-n who showed up from my side of the family, and she left after five minutes when she saw how everyone was treating me. The rest of the gathering was made up of Molly's relatives, who hate me but love DeShawn, his mo-ther Cassandra, his brothers and sisters, and a bunch of his thug friends. The reception was a fucking nightmare. Molly sat with DeShawn at the wedding table while I spent the whole night either moping in a dark corner by myself or fetching drin-ks and enduring snide remarks. My feet are ki-lling me from all the running around I did, and I'd give anything for a bucket of ice water to soak my aching tootsies. There's not much I could do to soothe my broken heart, I'm afraid. But I got through the evening in one piece. And Molly is now my bride! Hallelujah!
June 10
Molly and DeShawn left for their honeymoon today. After dropping them off at the airport, I sat in the parking garage and cried for an hour. I guess the good news is, I'll be working so much OT to pay for the trip, I won't have a whole lot of time to think about it. And even though it sucks not being with my new bride right now, I've been giddy thinking of how Molly is actually my wife. I can't believe my wish finally came true. I'll stare at her picture for the next two weeks and thank my lucky stars that I'm married to such a beautiful angel. Even if she is in love with another man.
June 19
Damn, I never knew what true loneliness is until now. I've been crying myself to sle-ep every night. I think the worst part is, Molly hasn't called or sent me one text the whole time she's been gone. And since she told me not to bother her unless it's an emergency, I've had zero contact with my wife on what's supposed to be my honeymoon. You'd think she'd have the common courtesy to at least text the guy who's working overtime to pay for her romantic getaway with her boyfriend. But nothing. Not a fucking word. Oh well, that's my Molly. She takes me for granted but I love her so. As long as I know she's okay, I'm okay, and from her Instagram posts, it appears she and DeShawn are having a great time. I'm happy for them. I really am. It sucks for me, but it is what it is. My job is to keep my wife happy. As long as that's taken care of, everything else is gravy.
June 21
They'll be home tomorrow. I must've cleaned the condo 10 times. I can't wait to see my beloved bride again.
June 22
Well, Molly and DeShawn are finally home. They chilled and watched TV while I ki-lled myself trying to get through the mountains of laundry they'd dirtied during their two weeks away.
June 30
Today when I was making lunch I overheard Molly on the phone telling her mom that DeShawn wants her to get his name tattooed somewhere on her body. They're just trying to figure out where to put it. Also, Darlene brought up grandkids again. She keeps pressuring Molly to get pregnant. My bitch of a mo-ther-in-law loves telling me how DeShawn is worthy of siring her grandki-ds, and that she would've been embarrassed had I gotten Molly pregnant.

Well done as usual sir. You have a way of getting in my head. I'll be thinking about this one all weekend. Truly masterful imagery.

cwcobblestone
Bravo! Excellent work, as usual! Can't wait to read about the next 6 months ...

"Day by Day, Month by Month, Year by Year," Part 2
by c.w. cobblestone

July 1

I'm so depressed. DeShawn informed me today that my services as "bitch boy" will be required at a Fourth of July barbecue. The cookout is being thrown by the same guy who hosted the party in March where I was for-ced to wear panties and suck cock for the first time. Apparently, I was a big hit and this dude wants me back. When DeShawn told me my serving attire would again be Molly's underwear, my wife suggested I wear a maid's outfit instead. DeShawn thought it was a great idea and told me to find one online. Of course, I said a humble "yessir," logged onto a housekeeping apparel website and picked out the most modest frock available. When I presented it for approval, unfortunately, Molly gave it the thumbs-down. She snatched my laptop and scrolled for a few minutes before choosing a pink, puffy, ridiculous-looking getup from a fetish site. DeShawn had me pay extra to rush the order, so it's due in the mail the day after tomorrow. I'm hoping the shipment will be late; then I'll "only" have to wear Molly's panties while serving this stupid barbecue. Maybe I'll really luck out and it'll rain. The last "bitch boy party" was a fucking horror show, and I'm sure as hell not looking forward to this one.
July 2
My backside is in agony. I was cleaning Darlene's bathroom earlier when I accidentally knocked over one of her perfume bottles. It shattered on the tile floor and I paid the price — my mo-ther-in-law bent me over the bed and hammered my ass and legs with a shoe heel until there were purple welts everywhere. It was difficult to walk when I got back to cleaning, and while I puttered around in pain, I overheard Darlene on the phone telling her dau-ghter: "I think I damaged the little bitch. He broke my bottle of Black Opium, so I tore that ass up with my stiletto heel." I don't know what Molly said on the other end of the line, but Darlene scoffed and replied, "yeah, the little fag don't need to sit down anyway."
July 3
The abomination of a maid's costume arrived in the mail today, and it looks even more faggoty in real life than it did online. Unfortunately, Molly's friend Alyssa was visiting when the postman came. My wife made me try on the dress, and the ladies damn near pissed themselves laughing at me. I can hardly blame them; the outfit is preposterously sissified with a short-short hemline and ruffles everywhere. Because the dress is so revealing, my welts were exposed, and Molly seemed to enjoy telling her friend how I'd gotten the marks from Darlene. Alyssa kept poking my bruises with her finger and asking "aw, does it hurt?" Molly's friends are just as cruel as she is, at least when it comes to me. After Alyssa went home, I removed the flouncy garment and resumed my chores, although my wife made me put it back on and model it for DeShawn as soon as he got back from playing hoops. He said I looked sexy and made me suck his dick, warning me not to get the dress dirty because he wants me "to look pretty for the cookout tomorrow." Since he was all sweaty from playing ball, giving him a blowjob was beyond disgusting. I tried to go to my happy place and think of lines from a favorite movie, but repeating "say hello to my little friend" over and over didn't help.
July 6
Ugh, I got out of the hospital today and still feel like shi-t. Molly and DeShawn branded their initials on my ass at the barbecue and I passed out, waking up in the ICU with a dangerously high fever. The docs kept me in the hospital for observation for two days, and the minute I got home Molly wanted the condo cleaned. That took about four hours since they'd trashed the place in my absence. Now, I just want to plop down on my dog bed and crash in the closet. More later. Good night.
July 7
Well, I'm fully cognizant, which isn't necessarily a good thing, because now that the haze has lifted I can remember every gory detail of the absolute hell I suffered through at the Fourth of July party before passing out from shock. It was horrifying from the start. My maid's outfit was an instant hit, and I absorbed a flood of jeers and catcalls as I worked my way through the gathering of about 25 people. Of course, Molly gleefully told everyone how her mom had given me the welts on my ass and legs, and the partygoers kept pinching my swollen flesh while I served them, which made my aching backside hurt even more. Little did I know that the agony in my ass was nothing compared to what was about to happen. Two hours into the backyard cookout, by which point nobody other than me was feeling much pain, DeShawn and Molly were talking to their friends about plans to have his initials tattooed above her pussy, and someone hollered out "you should get your little bitch-boy marked up, too." Someone else suggested branding me instead, and both DeShawn and Molly loved the idea. Things moved fast after a guy who'd once branded members of his college fraternity said it would be easy to fashion an "M" and "D" from coat-hangers and have me seared right there. Within minutes, I was naked as a jaybird and bent over a lawn chair, with Molly and DeShawn standing behind me holding red-hot brands and everyone else aiming their cellphones at us. The crowd counted to three and my masters stuck the hot irons into each cheek at the same time. Everything turned black and when I woke up face-down in the hospital it felt like my entire body was on fire — especially my poor booty. A lady from the police liaiso-n office interviewed me to ensure that I'd consented to being branded. She told me hospital staff was concerned about the welts all over my body, and she asked me if I'd been abu-sed. I told her my punishment had been consensual which ended the inquiry. The doctor had planned to release me after only one night but I kept shivering and my temperature was still high, so he kept me another night out of caution. I'm still shaky but the fever is finally gone. My ass is throbbing, though. The cream they gave me helps a little, but I'll be sle-eping on my stomach for the next few weeks, which will suck, since that fucking dog bed is uncomfortable enough as it is. I feel like total shi-t right now and am muti-lated forever. Oh well. It is what it is. Molly seems to be happy, and that's all that counts, right? Nobody said this would be easy.
July 11
It was muggy as hell yesterday but DeShawn made me wear the maid's outfit while cleaning the house anyway. I sweated like a pig, earning Molly's derision, but DeShawn said he likes me as a sissy, and told me to order more maid's uniforms because from now on that's how I'll dress at home. He also wants me in heels, so I ordered a few pairs of 4" pumps as well. Molly says my feet will be ki-lling me after doing housework on them all day, which she thinks is hilarious. She also told me I'll make an ugly woman but DeShawn corrected her, pointing out that I'm a bitch-boy, not a woman.
July 13
The blisters from the brands on my ass keep busting and it hurts like crazy. I sat through a five-hour deposition at the firm today and squirmed the entire time. How long is it gonna take for these damn things to heal?
July 14
The maid's dresses came in the mail, and they're all just as embarrassing as the first one. At least I won't have to keep washing the same dress every night now. But the heels are ki-lling me. After only one day of wearing them, I now have blisters on my feet to go with the blisters on my ass.
July 16
My brands are starting to heal a bit. The blisters are still there, but the letters "M" and "D" are becoming more pronounced. I hate to admit it, but the guy at the cookout knew what he was doing; the brands look professionally done. I'm trying to be proud of them instead of being ashamed. I'll keep working at it.
July 17
They're switching out our email system and work and we got a memo telling us to save whatever old messages we wanted because we'd be losing them when the new system kicked in. While going though old emails, I found one Molly had sent early in our relationship, before DeShawn came into the picture. It was just a note reminding me that her cell phone bill needed to be paid, but it included an explanation of why she'd changed her mind about marrying me a few days earlier, after she'd rejected my initial proposal. "After my fa-ther ran off I've been afraid of commitment," she said. "But I think we can make a life together if you give me my space. xoxox." For Molly, those x's and o's constituted a major outpouring of emotion. I made sure to forward that email to my perso-nal account. I don't want to lose that one.
July 23
Molly and DeShawn have been running me ragged for the past week. First, my wife loaned me to Alyssa to empty and scrub down her boyfriend's garage, which turned out to be a three-day job. On Wednesday, DeShawn told me I'd be staying the night at his mo-ther's house after cleaning because she needed a bunch of forms filled out related to her retirement that would take hours to complete, and Cassandra said she didn't feel like doing all that writing. I reported to the mean old lady after work and got busy cleaning the house to her exacting demands. When I finished, we went through our ritual: I knelt and drank the cup of piss she always had ready for me. It's become an obsession for Cassandra to hum-iliate me by making me consume her urine, and while I'm doing it she always looks at me like I'm the most contemptable piece of shi-t on the face of the earth. After Cassandra went to bed, I spent the next several hours in her kitchen hunched over stacks of forms. By the time I'd finished neatly filling them all out at 4:30am, my hand ached. I lay down on the kitchen floor to get a few hours' sle-ep. Luckily, I change from my suit to a one of my maid's outfits before I clean Cassandra's place, so I had something to wear to work, even if it was for the second day in a row. After work Thursday, having gotten only a few hours' sle-ep, DeShawn had me go by his brother James' house to pull weeds from his backyard. Then, when I finally got home, Molly yelled at me because the condo was "a fucking pigsty." She tends to exaggerate — there were only a few dishes in the sink and her boyfriend's piss hadn't been wiped up from tile at the base of the toilet, but that wasn't my fault. Oh, well, I just apologized and took care of it. Such is life, as the French say.
July 26
These fucking maid's outfits are hot as hell. When I'm cleaning, I perspire like crazy, even with the AC going, and then Molly gets mad because she says I look "like a sweaty pig." I can't win.
July 29
Well, I can say goodbye to autonomy over my own genitals. DeShawn walked into the kitchen unexpectedly last night and caught me with my hand down my panties. After slapping me around, he told me to order a chastity device. When I showed him and Molly the cage I'd chosen, my wife once again vetoed my decision, confiscated my laptop and found the item she wanted. It's a wicked contraption with spikes and a rod that goes through my pee-hole into my urethra. I dread having to wear that thing but I guess it's my fault for getting sloppy. Had I confined my jerking off to when I was in my little closet at night, I'd have been okay. That's what I get. The cage is due the day after tomorrow. Ugh.
July 31
The Magnum Secure Lockdown Deluxe chastity device arrived in the mail a few hours ago. I screamed when Molly shoved that rod into my pee-hole. When I pissed for the first time, because of the device I was for-ced to sit down, and it stung like hell because of the rod. I don't know how the hell I'm ever going to get comfortable wearing this thing, but DeShawn says I'd better get used to it, because other than for one supervised cleaning per week, he says "it ain't coming off any time soon." WTF, just add this to the list of other bullshi-t I have to put up with to keep Molly in my life. The things we do for love.

"Day by Day, Month by Month, Year by Year," Part 3
by c.w. cobblestone


August 1
Ugh, this chastity device is killing me. I'm always aware of it because it tugs at my junk constantly and I stay horny. Even when I'm not thinking of sex, sometimes I'll get an itch "down there" that's impossible to scratch, and it's frustrating as hell. That happened at work yesterday; I squirmed at my desk for hours, prompting one of the other lawyers to ask if I had hemorrhoids or ants in my pants. I told him my hip was hurting and that I couldn't get comfortable.

August 4
Molly's foreplay with DeShawn lately has been to make me stand at attention at the foot of the bed while she does a sexy dance, shaking her ass and flaunting her tits in an effort to excite both DeShawn and me. When my dick swells, it pushes against the needle-like spikes inside my cage, causing pain so severe I end up rolling around on the ground in agony. Once I'm reduced to tears, they'll kick me out of the bedroom and fuck. I guess I should be thankful that I'm at least a tiny part of her sex life, although it's not easy adopting that mindset when all I can think about is how unfair and mean they are to me.

August 7
Darlene came over for dinner tonight and flirted with DeShawn like crazy. After a few post-meal glasses of wine, the horny MILF started laying it on thick, telling DeShawn how hot she thought he was, and what beautiful grandkids he was going to give her. Of course, DeShawn ate it up and threw it right back at her, telling her she was "fine as hell, with an ass that won't quit." After Darlene left, he told Molly he wanted to fuck her mo-m. Since my wife would do anything to please her king, she told him she didn't mind. "In fact, I think it would be kinda hot," she said. So, now, they're talking about how to broach the subject with Darlene. I can't believe how decadent my sweet Molly has become since falling under DeShawn's spell. It's scary. She's not the same girl I met just a few years ago.

August 9
Molly invited her mo-ther over for dinner Friday night "to have a little three-way fun with DeShawn," and I had to run to the store to get groceries for this special occasion. DeShawn warned me not to mention any of this to his mo-ther. Why, I don't know — it's not like the hateful old bitch has morals!

August 11
I had to drop off a motion at the courthouse today and was petrified going through the metal detector, fearing my cock cage might set off the buzzer. My device is made of graphite, and the instructions said it would elude metal detectors, but that didn't quell my anxiety as I approached the guard station. I sailed right through, although that didn't make my nervousness go away. Fear is always in the back of my mind with this damn thing on. I'm constantly worried that I might get in an accident and doctors would have to strip me. Instead of the dirty underwear everyone's mo-m warned them about, the docs would find me wearing panties and a medieval-looking contraption on my privates. Oh, well, if it happens it happens. I'm used to being embarrassed, WTF.

August 13
Last night was a major turning point. DeShawn fucked Darlene for the first time, but it clearly won't be the last time. I wasn't allowed in the room but I could hear the moans. I spent most of the evening doing laundry, trying to concentrate on scrubbing out stains amid the sex soundtrack that blasted through the condo. Every now and then my dick would start to swell and I'd double over in pain. I was scared to death Molly and Darlene might require me to do cleanup duty after DeShawn was done fucking them, which would surely cause me great agony, but when the threesome was over, I was called to serve dri-nks and bring damp towels. I had mixed feelings that my tongue wouldn't be put to use. The three of them lay around in bed watching TV the rest of the night. Darlene never looked so happy and Molly was beaming. They kept talking about making their threesome a regular thing.

August 16
Violet was at Cassandra's house when I came to clean last night after work. I had to show off my brands and cage, since Violet hadn't seen them. She asked Cassandra if the cage meant she couldn't kick me in the balls like she'd done last time. Cassandra said "let's find out" and had me stand with my legs spread and hands on my head, naked other than my chastity device. They spent the next half-hour destroying my testicles. When they finally got tired I put on my maid's uniform and started cleaning while they relaxed in the living room getting dru-nk on wine. It was difficult to walk because my balls were so swollen, although Cassandra told me to "stop limping around," so I for-ced myself to stay upright, despite the throbbing in my groin. After a few glasses of vino, Violet made me dri-nk her pee, taking the cup into the bathroom again before handing it to me and saying "there you go, faggot white bitch." I thanked her, emptied the cup, washed it out and got back to my housework. Violet was still there when I reported to Cassandra that the chores were all finished. When I knelt in the hallway for my "goodbye" ritual, DeShawn's mo-m changed things up a bit. After pissing in the cup, instead of making me dri-nk it like she usually did, she dumped the contents on my head. By then, I'd changed back into my suit for the drive home, and now I'll have to take it to the drycleaner's tomorrow. Damn, that woman loves humiliating me. Must run in the family.

August 19
Darlene came over again last night and she, Molly and DeShawn disappeared into the bedroom for several hours. When they were done fucking they called for dri-nks and towels. There was a smudge on Darlene's wine glass, so she picked up DeShawn's underwear off the floor and arranged them on my head before berating me for being such a "wimpy little fuck-up." It was embarrassing as hell, but I spent the night peeping through the leg-holes of DeShawn's briefs with my nose in the crotch. Molly said in my maid's dress and mask, I looked like a "sissy superhero."

August 22
I've got a pounding headache. DeShawn bitch-slapped me during dinner when he found a kernel of corn in his cognac, and my head is still throbbing. I guarantee the corn wasn't in the glass when I served it to him; I'd made corn on the cob to go with the short ribs, and I'm almost certain the kernel fell into the dri-nk while DeShawn was stuffing his face. That didn't stop him from slapping me silly when he went to take a dri-nk and encountered the offending nugget. Molly thought it was funny, although her mood changed when my nose started ble-eding, and she yelled at me to go get a tissue. DeShawn really got me good — two hours later, the whole side of my head is still pounding. I try my best not to piss him off, but sometimes there's nothing I can do.

August 25
I ran into Joel and his wife Cindy in the supermarket yesterday. He couldn't help making a smart-ass comment; when he saw the two cases of Corona in my cart, he says "I see you're stocking up on your boyfriend's favorite beer." I just kept walking. Cindy called after me, "you're pathetic, you know that?" but I didn't reply.

August 28
OMG am I exhausted. DeShawn had me go by his brother James' house yesterday and serve as the gofer while he and his buddies repatched a roof. James isn't as mean as DeShawn or their mo-ther, but he still treats me like I'm scum, and ran me ragged for nine hours without one break. I felt so resentful watching them relax during lunch while they had me wash off all their tools. Everyone there knew the score — that I was DeShawn's little bitch — and they weren't shy about barking orders at me. At least James let me dri-nk from the garden hose; had his bitch of a mo-ther been there, I'm sure I'd have been provided a different, saltier beverage.

August 31
Darlene spent the night and during breakfast I found out the hard way that she hates crunchy bacon. She had a bit of a hangover and was in a pissy mood, so when I set the plate in front of her and she saw what I'd cooked, she slapped the sh-it out of me, poured OJ on my head, and told me to fix her another serving of bacon. Aside from her crankiness, she seems to have picked up on the fact that being cruel to me makes DeShawn horny, and she's been dogging me more than usual when she comes over. Like mo-ther like dau-ghter.

This is amazing. Keep it up. Please

Shaun86

Thank you, I'll do just that!

Great story, I love your writing style and themes.

Thanks to those who've commented. It keeps me going!

September 1

Last night I was finally allowed into the bedroom to witness a mo-ther-dau-ghter threesome with Darlene, Molly and DeShawn. He brought me in as his "ass-to-mouth bitch" — the king had both women kneeling side-by-side on the edge of the mattress holding their butt-cheeks apart, and after tapping one bunghole for a while, he'd pull out his cock and present it for me to suck clean before plowing the next sphincter. Then, we'd rinse and repeat. The taste of smegma mixed with ass-juice kept my excitement to a minimum, saving my poor penis from too much pain, although my chastity cage's spikes bit me a few times as I watched the two sexy women getting butt-fucked. After everyone but me had enjoyed satisfying orgasms, I was ordered to bring towels, drin-ks and snacks. I think DeShawn wanted to show off for the ladies because he made me suck his toes while they relaxed and ate. Darlene finally left around midnight and I was able to finish my housework before heading to the closet and crashing on my dog bed.

September 3

Tomorrow is the big Labor Day Carnival in McCorvey Park, where the whole town usually shows up. DeShawn has been planning to escort Molly to the event, and a few hours ago he informed me that I'll be tagging along, too. "I want to show off my two bitches to all them white folks," was how he put it. Molly giggled at the prospect of being so openly naughty and defiant with her badass black lover. I'm sure it'll be a fucking nightmare. My life is a series of nightmares.

September 5

Well, Molly and DeShawn had a ball flaunting their relationship at the carnival, although it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. As ordered, I stayed a respectful 15 feet behind them while they strolled arm-in-arm through the fair, stopping every now and then to make out. DeShawn won his girl a huge stuffed elephant at the shooting gallery, and I had to lug it around. I felt like a loser following after my wife and her boyfriend like that, although the stuffed ani-mal proved to be a godsend because it provided good cover — whenever I'd approach someone I knew, I'd just bury my face in the elephant until I walked past them. The only person who said anything to me was my former friend Tim, who approached me while I was waiting alone in the ticket line. "Have some self-respect, for chrissakes," he said. "Everyone laughs at you, bro. Is that little cunt really worth it?" I ignored him and he walked away. Other than that, it wasn't so bad. I saw my mom and dad, along with my brothers and their families, but I hid behind the elephant so I'm not sure if they saw me. People basically avoided us, which was exactly what I'd hoped would happen. There was one humiliating episode when DeShawn had me clean his sneaker after squirting mustard on it, but I heaved a sigh of relief when he allowed me to get a wet napkin rather than making me lick it off. It was bad enough having to kneel in front of the smug sonofabitch to clean his shoe with the whole town present — if he'd ordered me use my tongue, I may have puked on his Air Jordans! That surely would've earned me a major ass-whipping. Thank goodness for small favors, I suppose.

September 6

Ron called to yell at me for "sending Mom and Dad to an early grave." I guess they saw Molly and DeShawn making out at the carnival yesterday with me standing there like a gimp, and it threw our parents into a tizzy. According to Ron, Dad had to lie down on a park bench and take a heart pill. I told my brother I didn't appreciate him trying to make me feel guilty just because our parents are closed-minded bigots who refuse to accept me for who I am. He said I was making a fool of myself and hung up on me. I put on a brave front, but I do feel bad for Mom and Dad. I just wish they could just accept things, and understand that it's my choice to put up with the things Molly and DeShawn do to me. I think there's a way I could still have a relationship with my family, if only they'd stop trying to talk me into getting a damned divorce. /

September 9

Molly told me before I left for work this morning to add DeShawn as a beneficiary to my life insurance policy. I took care of it at lunch, so now if I die, my wife's boyfriend will get half my savings and pension, and she'll get the other half. Molly surprised him with the news when he returned from playing ball earlier tonight, telling him it meant he was officially part of the family. I thought he'd be honored by the gesture, but he just shrugged, as if it were his due. After dinner, he relaxed in bed with Molly watching a movie while I gave him his "propers." The man loves having his salad tossed, that's for sure! I imagine it must feel good, not to mention the power rush it must give him. Too bad Molly doesn't have me do that for her. I rarely get to touch her these days, other than the occasional foot massage.

September 12

Violet has been showing up at Cassandra's house more and more during my cleaning nights. She says kicking me in the balls is therapeutic, so Cassandra has given her carte blanche to destroy my nuts whenever the mood strikes her. DeShawn's mo-ther absolutely despises me, and loves flaunting her power over me in front of her friend. That's why she makes such a big production of making me drin-k her piss. Violet is still shy about that, and takes "the cup" into the bathroom to fill it, but Cassandra doesn't give a fuck. For the last few weeks, she's eschewed the cup altogether, opting to squat and piss right into my mouth. I guess if there's any good news, it's that the bitter old hag has a flabby, ugly pussy, so I avoid further pain by not getting hard-ons when she straddles my face.

September 19

Ugh, I spent the last five days doing grunt work for DeShawn's brother James, who's in the middle of a major home-improvement project. Since I haven't been able to do housework here at home, the condo is a fucking mess. I'm absolutely wiped out from all the shi-t James had me do, but I've got a mountain of chores ahead of me, so more later.

September 20

Whew! I finally have a few minutes to myself. After I finished the housework last night, DeShawn wanted his propers while he watched football, and that kept me busy for hours, since the game went into OT. Thank goodness the Ravens won, so he went to sle-ep in a good mood. There weren't a lot of chores to do when I got home from work today, since I got most of it done last night. It was an uneventful evening, and Molly and DeShawn turned in early, so for the first time in nearly a week, I have a little me-time. Man, I've been working like crazy the past few days! James took vacation last week so he and his wife LaDonna could fix up their house. DeShawn lent me to them to do all the shi-t jobs, cleanup, etc. During the five days I was there, James and LaDonna would start work at about 9 in the morning, fixing up various parts of their house with me as their helper until about 10pm. They took several breaks each day, and after calling it quits, they'd relax for an hour or so before going to bed. My schedule was far more demanding; I'd start at dawn and continue working long after James and LaDonna had gone to bed. I was allowed three two-minute bathroom trips each day, but that was it. There was no meal break for me; I ate their leftovers standing up. While they slept I had tons of quiet jobs to keep me busy, such as painting, scr-aping off old paint and linoleum, and lugging boxes and other items from one room to the other. James and LaDonna think I'm a piece of shi-t and they treat me like one, although they both have no-nonsense personalities, and can't be bothered to gratuitously humiliate me the way Molly and DeShawn often do. Still, it was humiliating enough to have to sle-ep in the shed, being only allowed to eat their table scraps, and having to work all day with no breaks while the beneficiaries of my labor chilled on the couch watching me bust my ass for them. They never thanked me, but LaDonna made it a point to take the phone from James so she could personally thank her brother-in-law "for loaning us your white boy. He's been a great help." I felt a surge of pride when she said that, along with relief that DeShawn wouldn't be kicking my ass for embarrassing him.

September 22

My back is ki-lling me. In addition to my workload, my dog bed is so fucking uncomfortable, it's not funny! Sle-eping on it every night is destroying my back, but I'm afraid if I complain, I'll end up on the floor. So, I'll just keep my mouth shut and deal with an achy back — because if I've found out one thing since DeShawn took over my life, it's to be happy with what little I've got because things can always get worse!

September 24

I actually had a conversation with Molly for the first time in ages, and it was soul-destroying. DeShawn was off with his buddies playing ball and she asked me what she thought he might want for his birthday. I hated having to come up with gift ideas for my wife's boyfriend, but I swallowed my resentment and offered four suggestions. it got worse. Molly started telling me how much she loved DeShawn, and how I never stood a chance once he came into the picture. "Most men would've just walked away but you begged me to stay," she told me. "It was so pathetic — how could I ever respect you after that?" I had no answer, and found myself agreeing with her that I was a loser who wasn't worthy of her respect. As if to hammer home the point, she told me to go ahead and buy all four of the gift possibilities I'd suggested. So, great — now, I'm on the hook for a gold chain, a set of personal watercrafts, a dirt bike and a stereo system. From the fiscal side it doesn't matter, since my whole paycheck goes to DeShawn and Molly anyway, and it's not like I'll be out any more than I already am. But the idea of having to run around buying expensive presents for the smug asshole makes me want to puke.

September 26

Molly's bestie Alyssa came over last night and ki-lled two bottles of wine. Like they always do when they get dru-nk, they started fucking with me. Molly was telling her friend how DeShawn makes me give him his propers, and Alyssa asked me "does your master's asshole taste different when he eats different food?" I felt like a fool, but I honestly had to admit to the smirking ladies that, yes, sometimes DeShawn's ass tastes differently from night to night. They both died laughing! It was yet another watershed moment for me.

September 30

When I got home from work today, there was a letter in the mail from my mom and dad. I tore up the envelope and threw it in the trash without opening it but curiosity got the best of me and I dug it out. I had hoped that maybe they'd written to tell me they'd accepted that Molly had a relationship with DeShawn, but as I'd figured in the first place, it was yet another attempt to convince me to get a divorce. "You don't deserve to be treated the way they treat you," they wrote. Well, no shi-t. I DON'T deserve this. But that's the way it is. People who had to work in coal mines 16 hours a day before dying with black lung at age 35 didn't deserve that either. We play the hand that's dealt to us and do the best we can. I can't help it if I'm in love with Molly. I can't help it if she's in love with DeShawn. I do the best I can. I just wish my family would accept that. It would be nice to have someone on my side for a change. It sucks being all alone out here in the universe.

October 1
When I returned home from work today and got the mail, I was surprised to see a package with my name on it. Inside was a giant strap-on dildo. Molly laughed at my shocked expression and told me she'd ordered it because her mom wants to use it on me the next time she comes over for a threesome. I had to call Darlene to thank her. She chuckled and said, "no problem, I can't wait to put you in your sissy little place. That's why I had Molly order the biggest one they had." That fucking thing is huge — my poor ass is going to be ripped to shreds. WTF. My mo-ther-in-law is such a bitch.

October 3
Today, I ordered the matching watercraft for DeShawn's birthday. They're scheduled to deliver them to the marina Tuesday, and Molly will take DeShawn down there on his birthday to surprise him. Not that the arrogant bastard will ever say thank you.

October 5
Darlene just left and I'm in screaming pain. My asshole's completely blown out after she drilled me with that behemoth of a dildo. The bitch was TRYING to make it hurt. She succeeded, and DeShawn thought my cries of agony were hilarious. But it could be a whole lot worse. I can thank Molly for my blessings, and despite my throbbing bunghole, my heart is throbbing, too. I love my beautiful wife so, so much! Tonight, she showed me that she DOES care about me! After DeShawn had me serve as his "ass-to-mouth bitch," and everyone had enjoyed their orgasms, Darlene donned the strap-on and told me to bend over the bed. She initially had planned to fuck me with no lube, but my darling wife intervened and said that would likely tear up my insides and put me in the hospital. Darlene wasn't happy, so she took her frustrations out on my ass. I can deal with the pain, though, knowing that Molly prevented further misery. Even if it was for selfish reaso-ns, she didn't want me going to the hospital. That's something to be thankful for. Right?

October 8
Ugh, I've got a major headache. I was giving DeShawn his propers about an hour ago, pretending I was licking Molly's pussy, and I guess I got a little over-excited because he cuffed me across the ear and said "slow down, bitch." That knocked me right back into reality, and my head's been pounding ever since. My wife's boyfriend likes slow, respectful licks. I need to remember that from now on, or I'm going to get brain damage from all the blunt for-ce trauma. DeShawn hits hard.

October 10
I was on my hands and knees cleaning the hallway baseboards earlier today while Molly chilled in the bedroom talking to her friend Alyssa on the phone. I could clearly overhear my wife's part of the conversation as she brought up a recurring topic — how badly she wants DeShawn's babies — and she laid out details of what's to become my future. I'm still reeling from it. Nobody bothered telling me any of this stuff, and having to hear it second-hand like that while Molly chatted with her bestie is a supreme insult, even to a loser like me.

Still, the future doesn't look all that bad. Well, some parts don't, anyway. Some parts are terrifying. It's a mixed bag, I guess.

Molly told her friend I'll start wearing more sensible maid's uniforms after ki-ds are in the picture, rather than the sissified outfits DeShawn insists on now. I'll also have to come out full-time as a transgender, including at work, so the ki-ds will see me "as sort of a trans uncle who supports the family and then comes home to do the housework." While it's going to be embarrassing as hell having to tell all my friends at work that I'm transgendered it shouldn't pose a problem professionally, since two other attorneys in my progressive firm have come out as trans during my 15 years there and nobody batted an eye.

According to Molly, DeShawn is completely onboard with me staying on as the family maid, although she told Alyssa, "he's real funny about doing kinky stuff in front of ki-ds," and she said we'd have to tamp down our lifestyle a great deal. "He becomes so mature whenever we discuss having a family," Molly gushed. She wasn't lying. I've been privy to these conversations, and it does appear that DeShawn is embracing the notion of fath-erhood. He keeps saying how he wants a legacy. Of course, hearing that makes me feel like shi-t. But knowing that he's okay with me staying on gives me some measure of comfort — as does the prospect of losing the more extreme elements of our lifestyle so that Molly and DeShawn's chil-dren can grow up in a somewhat normal environment.

No matter what happens, and no matter how big their household gets, I know I'll always occupy the bottom rung. And having to come out as trans is going to be absolutely mortifying, and will surely push my former friends and family even further away.

But it would be nice to be free of the gratuitous cruelty DeShawn and Molly mete out daily. I'm sure they'll always find opportunities to tor-ture and hum-iliate me, since that's a core element of our dynamic. And there's no question Cassandra and Darlene will continue making my life miserable when I go to their houses each week to clean.

All in all, though, this plan doesn't seem so bad. If things go accordingly, by coming out as trans I'll trade public embarrassment, which I have to endure anyway, for better treatment at home. And the bottom line is, I'll get to remain in Molly's life. And that's everything to me.

Still, if this is to be my future, I wish someone would have the courtesy to tell me about it. I guess they'll get around to it eventually.

October 12
Yesterday was DeShawn's birthday, although I spent the evening at Cassandra's house cleaning. Thankfully, I was alone, since Cassandra took her so-n and Molly out to eat and celebrate. I worked as fast as I could, hoping to finish my chores and get the hell out of there before Cassandra came home. I was successful, thank goodness, and for once I left her house without a bellyful of piss. When I got to the condo, DeShawn never said thank-you for all the gifts I'd bought, but that wasn't a surprise. He was in a good mood, so as I gave him his propers while he watched the Celtics-Warriors game, I counted my blessings.


October 14
I swung by James' house after work last night to mow his backyard and carry a bunch of boxes from the garage to the basement. When I asked him if he needed anything else before I left, he snarled at me and spit in my face before telling me to "get your sissy white ass the fuck out of here." DeShawn's brother usually isn't like that, so I was shocked. On the drive home, all I could think about was whether James had simply been in a bad mood, or if I'd done something to displease him that would've caused him to give DeShawn a bad report about me. My fears were unfounded, though, and DeShawn was chill when I got home. He even let me hit his blunt after dinner. It was good weed that knocked me sideways, and when I gave him his propers while he and Molly relaxed in bed watching TV, my mind did loop-de-loops. The phrase "DeShawn is my king; DeShawn is my king" played over and over in my head as I buried my nose in his ass, reveling in a buzzed world of abject sub-mission. Now that the weed has worn off, I'm ashamed of myself. I'm supposed to hate licking DeShawn's ass. Last night, I didn't hate it at all. Fuck. What's wrong with me? What am I turning into?

October 16
DeShawn had me give him his propers while he watched the World Series last night, and I couldn't get the phrase "DeShawn is my king" out of my head. On top of that, I started to get turned on, and yelped when my dick swelled and the spikes in my cage poked flesh. My outcry earned me a slap upside the head from my king. I mumbled apologies into his bunghole, went into "the zone," and repeated the phrase "help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope." It didn't help, and my dick got hard again, although this time I was able to stay quiet. WTF. Now I get turned on by licking that so-nofabitch's ass? I'm thinking this the Stockholm Syndrome at work.

October 19
I'm exhausted. I've spent the last three nights after work painting Alyssa's house. Each evening, I'd paint until about 11 before rushing home to clean the condo. Alyssa didn't help at all. Instead, she relaxed with her dickhead boyfriend Todd each night and watched me paint. The first night, Alyssa made me lick her toilet in front of her boyfriend. He wasn't amused, and told me "I ought to kick your nasty faggot ass." Todd doesn't go in for "all that sissy shi-t," and he says I disgust him. He doesn't mind exploiting me for my labor, though. I just try to avoid the asshole; I can tell it wouldn't take much for him to lose it and beat the shi-t out of me.

October 20
Since painting Alyssa's house made me miss my weekly spruce-up at Darlene's place, I'll have to swing by there after work. I'm dreading it. Molly says her mo-ther ordered a strap-on dildo to keep at home for when I come over to clean. She said Darlene promised to "be good and use lube," but I'm guessing my bitch of a mo-ther-in-law won't be overly generous with the KY Jelly. WTF. So, now, I'll have to get pegged after cleaning Darlene's house, in addition to having to drin-k piss as payment for my maid service at Cassandra's. I get no respect.

October 21
Well, there's good news and bad news. The good news: When I got to Darlene's house last night, she told me the strap-on hadn't arrived in the mail yet. The bad news: She improvised and reamed my ass with a broomstick. She says it's a "power rush" fucking me like that, and that I'd better get used to it. She sodomized me as soon as I got to her house, so I spent the rest of the evening limping around as I cleaned while she relaxed in her La-Z-Boy with a smirk on her bitch face.

October 23
Molly and DeShawn finally sat me down tonight and explained what they had planned for the future. I acted surprised and made sure to thank them for wanting me to stick around to serve them and their chil-dren. The one thing I wasn't ready for was DeShawn telling me I had to come out as trans immediately. I thought they might wait until Molly got pregnant, but DeShawn says we might as well get started on the life we're going to lead.

He told me since my name is Lou, he and Molly had thought about calling me Louise. But DeShawn said "Mildred" is a better name for a maid, so I'll be "Mildred" going forward. DeShawn says I need to go to the County Building to get my name formally changed.

"When we start a family, I don't want no funny shi-t," he warned me. "In front of the ki-ds, I just want you to be the maid, that's all."

Molly added with a giggle: "You'll be like Alice on 'The Brady Bunch,'" she said, and she told me to order a few powder-blue uniforms similar to those made famous by the iconic TV domestic.

Although I kept my mouth shut, I snickered inside at the prospect of becoming the beloved family maid. Like that's ever going to happen! I doubt Mike Brady ever for-ced Alice to give him his "propers" after the ki-ds went to sle-ep, and there's no way DeShawn would ever forego that perk because he enjoys it too much. I'll still be "DeShawn's little sissy bitch" — we just won't do anything over-the-top in front of their ki-ds. I'm sure it'll be just peachy for me. Ugh.

Now that the prospect of coming out is at my doorstep, I'm absolutely petrified. Since Molly and DeShawn had "The Talk," I've felt on the verge of throwing up. Tomorrow is Saturday, and Molly told me she's taking me clothes-shopping. Later on, I overheard her chatting on the phone to Alyssa, who apparently will be joining us tomorrow, although of course, my wife never bothered telling me that.

After Molly and DeShawn went to bed, I spent more than an hour in the guest bathroom staring at myself in the mirror, crying like a baby and saying goodbye to the old me. It was a traumatic experience.

October 25
Yesterday was pure hell. Molly and Alyssa led me from store to store, giggling like schoolgirls as I tried on what must've been a hundred outfits. I had initially dressed in men's clothes for the excursion, since the only female stuff I had at home were my ridiculous maid's outfits. But after our first stop, where I bought several dresses and skirts, I was made to don a polka-dotted dress for the rest of our shopping trip, marking my first public foray in drag, not counting the two times I'd served at DeShawn's friend's parties. Sure enough, I ran into my sister-in-law Cindy in Charleston Mall. She threw up her hands and said "you gotta be fucking kidding me" before storming away while dialing her cellphone. I'm sure she was calling Joel to tell him about the latest depths to which I'd sank. You'd think I'd be used to being a public fool by now, but each new hum-iliation feels like the first time. Anyway, I got through it, and now I have a female wardrobe. The "Alice" maid's outfits should arrive in the mail next week.

October 26
DeShawn told Molly he wants her to buy a sexy Halloween costume to wear to a party one of his friends is throwing Thursday. He said he may have me wear one of my flouncy outfits to provide maid service, although he said he needs to see if his friend is cool with it. So, in addition to being scared to death about coming out at the firm tomorrow, I've got that to worry about, too.

October 27
Work was a nightmare. I could tell Mr. Berkowitz was surprised when I showed up wearing a blue business suit, makeup and heels. My hair hasn't grown out yet, so I'm clearly not a woman. Still, the Senior Partner said nothing, and made sure to ask questions like how I wanted to be addressed. It was hard to talk, but I managed to tell him my new name was Mildred Katz, although I still use he/him pronouns. My coworkers had mixed reactions. The guys seemed amused, while the ladies were more sympathetic. Mostly, they ignored me, and I could tell they felt uncomfortable the few times we interacted. Jane, the one transgender who's still at the firm, was friendly, and told me I may encounter problems with clients, although thankfully most of my job entails behind-the-scenes work like writing documents.

October 29
I was giving DeShawn his propers last night when his friend called to say he didn't want me to serve the party tomorrow. Apparently, his friend's cousins are in town from LA "and he says they don't play no fag shi-t," DeShawn said. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued with my rim-job. Even lowdown fags like me deserve a break once in a while.


November 1
It's hard to describe how much my life has changed since I came out as trans. I didn't think it would be this difficult to deal with. Public hum-iliation has been a part of my life ever since Molly and DeShawn started openly dating, and I thought I'd built up a coat of armor to protect me. But this change has been far more traumatic than I'd anticipated. I feel like everyone's staring at me. Laughing at me. Pitying me. I haven't bumped into Mom or Dad yet since coming out, but it's a small town and I know I will eventually. So far, the only relative who's seen me in drag was Joel's wife Cindy, and she's got a big mouth so I'm sure she's told everyone in the family. I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow and I'm dreading it, since it's the only supermarket in town and everyone shops there. I'm considering driving a half-hour to the Walmart in Stanton to buy groceries. Then again, Molly or DeShawn might ask why I didn't shop at the Food Lion as usual, and I might get in trouble if they found out I was trying to avoid being shamed. That's the whole point of this fucked-up relationship — they WANT me to be shamed. It's a feature, not a bug. WTF, I'm a spineless wimp who's scared to death of DeShawn, so I'll probably just go to the Food Lion and hope I don't run into anybody.

November 2
I didn't see any relatives at the grocery store, although I bumped into a woman who's friends with my mom. She called me a "dis-grace." I ignored her and continued pushing my cart down the aisle with my head down.

November 5
The "Alice" maid outfits arrived in the mail, and DeShawn said I'm to wear them from now on, and that the flouncy dresses will only to be used for special occasions. Unless I'm at the firm, I'll normally wear a powder-blue dress topped by a crisp white apron, even for shopping or other public outings. That works for me. Finally, an edict that doesn't make my life more miserable. I'm just glad I won't be wearing the faggoty dresses every day. Even when I'm alone, they're a goddamn embarrassment.

November 6
These new uniforms are great! The fabric doesn't itch like the other outfits, and as I cleaned tonight, I found the sleeves to be far less restricting. The other dresses are designed to be hum-iliating, not for cleaning, and these new uniforms allow me much more free movement. I just wish DeShawn would've let me wear flats, but he likes me in heels, so I'll just keep dealing with sore feet, in addition to my sore back from sle-eping on that goddamn dog bed. Ugh, here I am bitching again, when I should be thankful for these new uniforms. They're going to make my work a lot easier — and maybe, from a psychological point of view, they'll cause Molly and DeShawn to respect me more, since I won't be wearing outfits that make me look like a fucking joke. Yeah, right, who am I kidding? Like Molly and DeShawn would ever respect me. Nah. They'd think I was a joke not matter what outfit I had on.

November 9
Well, Molly's pregnant. She broke the news last night when I got home from cleaning Cassandra's house. DeShawn was in such a good mood, he let me have a glass of champagne, which sat heavy in my stomach mixed with his mo-ther's piss. The drin-k gave me a buzz, but I managed to hold 'er steady while I gave Molly a long foot massage. With an expression of pure bliss on her pretty little face, my wife relaxed on the couch, nestled in her baby-daddy's arms as they watched a movie together. It was beautiful, romantic scene that made me want to puke. But I was a trooper and managed to give my darling wife a foot rub that lasted nearly two hours. She and DeShawn went to sle-ep in a blissful haze, but I stayed up all night worrying. This is no longer some abstract plan for the future — my wife is pregnant with her lover's baby. I'm going to be stuck with the late-night bottle feedings and diaper changes. The reality is hitting me like one of DeShawn's bitch-slaps, throwing me into a frenzy. Each time my situation enters a new phase, whether it's coming out as trans or Molly getting pregnant, I'm finding it much more difficult to deal with than I'd anticipated. Ugh. My life, which already sucked, sucks even more now — and it'll probably suck worse tomorrow. I guess I could get out of this abusive relationship, but I can't even fathom what life would be like without Molly in the picture. So, as long as I get to stick around, I can deal with all this heartache and hum-iliation. Everything happens for a reaso-n. I'll leave it all up to the fates and continue being thankful to be a part of Molly's life.

November 10
My poor ass is in agony. Darlene really pegged me good before I cleaned her house last night. She'd promised that she was going to use lube, but she just put a dollop on the tip of her dildo before going to town on me. I thought I might have to go to the hospital because my rectum was ble-eding. Darlene told me to jam toilet paper in my ass and wait a few minutes to see if the ble-eding stopped. Thank goodness it did, and my mo-ther-in-law deemed me medically fit to clean her house. Not that she's a doctor or anything, but she said her place was too dirty to let me slide, so I gritted my teeth and struggled through my chores. She did call her dau-ghter to apologize for "damaging" me, although Molly must've made some smart-assed remark because Darlene laughed and quipped back: "oh, he's a sissy, he can sle-ep on his stomach. Who cares?" Well, my bitch of a mo-ther-in-law turned out to be right. I did sle-ep on my stomach. She was right about nobody caring, too. Because nobody did. Nobody does. Poor me.

November 13
Cassandra was at her friend's house last night, so I was able to clean her place in peace. I've really come to appreciate any little breaks like that which come my way, because they're so few and far between these days.

November 17
A client I haven't seen in ages came into the firm today and was shocked when he saw me dressed as a woman. I think I managed the situation the best as I could. Both of us did. The client got over his initial surprise and we ended up having a productive meeting.

November 18
DeShawn farted in my mouth while I was giving him his propers last night and I almost threw up. Good thing I didn't; had I puked, I might very well be dead right now. Instead, he just laughed and said, "sorry 'bout that, sissy." Molly thought it was funny.

November 23
I ran into Mom and Dad at the Food Lion. When they saw me in the "Alice" maid's dress I'm required to wear in public, they both shrieked and literally ran from the store, leaving a cartful of groceries in the middle of the aisle. Dad's heart can't take this kind of shock and I feel terrible — but I need to remind myself that this is all on him. If he and my mom would be open-minded enough to accept me for how I am, things wouldn't be so stressful for them. They choose to be assholes. So be it.

November 25
Joel called yesterday to cuss me out. Unfortunately for him, DeShawn was standing right there when he called. He snatched the phone from me and asked my brother if there was a problem. No surprise, the wimp so-nofabitch immediately backed down, apologized and hung up. I actually felt proud of DeShawn for putting Joel in his place like that.

November 29
Molly stopped smoking weed once she found out she was pregnant, and DeShawn has been sharing his blunts with me lately, because he wants someone to smoke with, I presume. I always make sure to thank him, although when I get stoned I start having strange, submissive feelings, and I actually enjoy being DeShawn's little bitch. I find myself hoping he'll order me to blow him or give him his propers. I'm always so ashamed of myself when the buzz wears off.

December 2
Molly loaned me to Alyssa last night to clean out her refrigerator and stove. If it wasn't for Alyssa's boyfriend, Todd, I'd probably be cleaning my wife's bestie's house weekly like I do for Darlene and Cassandra. But Todd hates me with a passion, and Alyssa told Molly he'd probably end up kicking my ass if I went to her house regularly. He's homophobic, and whenever he sees me in drag his face contorts with rage. The dude scares the shi-t out of me. I know what it's like to be hated; Cassandra and her friend Violet are supremely prejudiced against white men, while Darlene thinks I'm a rich little bitch who never deserved her dau-ghter. But with Todd, it's a different kind of hatred. There's no desire on his part to fuck with me, toy with me or hum-iliate me. No, he just wants to beat the living shi-t out of me, because he says he despises "fags." I'm no homosexual, but I'm not about to argue with the muscular mo-therfucker. I just try to stay out of his way.

December 5
Violet stubbed her toe when she was kicking me in the balls earlier. When she moaned and told Cassandra she may have broken it, I hid my smile. Serves the fat bitch right.

December 7
DeShawn brought home some weed from outer space last night and it absolutely blew me away. He was pretty fucked up, too, and while he and Molly chilled on the couch after dinner he started teasing me, waving his cock in my face and making me beg to suck it. He'd say "go ahead, bitch," and when I'd move toward his dick with my mouth open he'd yank it away and say "not yet. Beg some more." I pleaded with him to let me suck his cock, and I'm ashamed to say I meant every groveling word. I honestly craved having DeShawn's penis in my mouth, and I completely debased myself in front of Molly, who was sitting right there with a sneer on her face. She thought the whole thing was hilarious, and made me repeat "DeShawn is my master and I love sucking his beautiful cock" over and over. She must've ordered me to "say it like you mean it" 30 times or more. If my wife didn't think I was pathetic before, she sure as hell does now. DeShawn finally let me blow him for a while before taking Molly into the bedroom and banging her. I lay on my dog bed listening to her moans, crying my eyes out, hating myself for being such a little bitch.

December 8
Molly says I need to start thinking of what to buy DeShawn for Christmas. Jeez, what do you get for the man who has everything? Maybe I could hire a hooker so he can enjoy having three women in his bed. The egotistical so-nofabitch would love it, but Molly would have my ass. She doesn't mind DeShawn fucking her mo-ther, and in fact, she rather enjoys the decadent dynamic of a mo-ther-dau-ghter threesome with her king. But she's jealous as hell and protective of DeShawn when any other women are involved, so hiring a hooker is out of the question. I'll have to think of something else.

December 11
When I reported to Darlene's place last night, she tried to switch things up by having me wear her strap-on and fuck her with it. That lasted maybe two seconds before she pushed me off her, slapped the shi-t out of me and told me to start cleaning. I later overheard her tell Molly on the phone, "it was disgusting — a sissy trying to fuck is like a dog trying to play the piano. Sissies don't fuck; they get fucked. Guess I'll have to wait until DeShawn wants some."

December 12
Molly liked my idea of a Christmas present: having a new Bose stereo system installed in DeShawn's Jeep, since he was complaining that the stock system didn't have enough bass. We racked our brains trying to figure out how to sneak the Jeep away to have it done, but in the end Molly told me to just put the receipt in the card so he can supervise the installation and change any elements, such as the subwoofer or speakers, if he so chooses. Molly told me "a receipt in a card isn't very romantic," so she ordered me to buy a bottle of expensive cologne for her lover as well.

December 15
Violet wasn't at Cassandra's house last night. As it turns out, the fat bitch did break her toe last week when she went to kick me in the balls and caught my pelvic bone instead. Cassandra blamed me and spent a good half hour making my poor testicles pay the price. By the time she was finished, she was sweating like crazy and I lay on the floor, unable to get up. She collapsed on the chair heaving and fanning herself while I rolled around on the carpet moaning. We must've made quite a sight. Eventually, I had to get up and start cleaning while DeShawn's hateful mom relaxed, watched TV and sipped wine. After she'd consumed three glasses, she called me into the living room and pointed to the carpet in front of the couch. Knowing the ritual, I lay down where she'd indicated, so she could squat over my face and piss in my mouth. I thanked her as usual, and then went back to scrubbing the kitchen floor.

December 17
Molly thinks she's starting to develop a little baby bump. DeShawn and I couldn't see it, and she kept telling us we were blind. He nudged me in the ribs and said "that girl's crazy," and we shared a chuckle over the woman in our lives. It was strange feeling a sense of comradery with a man who has bullied me so terribly, but since Molly got pregnant, DeShawn and I seem to have bonded a bit, and his cruelty has waned. It's been weeks since he last slapped me. Gratuitous insults are few and far between. He shares his blunts with me all the time now. While he still makes me blow him and give him his "propers" almost every night, there's been a palpable shift in our relationship. DeShawn told me he plans to tone down the more extreme elements of our lifestyle once ki-ds are in the picture, so maybe he's getting started on that process now by treating me halfway decently. I still walk on eggshells whenever I'm around him, and there's never a nanosecond where everybody in our household isn't aware who's boss. But if this is a peek into my future, it's encouraging.

December 18
There's been an issue at work since one of the female attorneys complained in the break room last week about having to share a bathroom with the other trans lawyer and me. I was in the room when the lady complained, but didn't say anything. Someone who overheard her did tattle, and the woman was sent to HR for sensitivity training. That pissed off a lot of my coworkers, and since I'd been in the room when the woman was bitching, the rumor got started that I'd been the one to tell HR. I tried to explain that I had nothing to do with it, but nobody believes me. Now, half the firm is pissed off at me. I'm trying to defuse the situation by using the bathroom at the coffee shop down the street from the office. Somehow, I got stuck in the middle of this huge political battle, and all I did was use the damn bathroom. WTF, I just want to keep my head down and do my job. It's bad enough having to live as a woman, dealing with the strange looks and smirks from clients. The last thing I want is to be the center of attention, but here I am.

December 21
The woman who complained about me using the woman's bathroom was fired yesterday, and the people who'd been grumbling about me are now outright hostile. It doesn't matter that someone else told HR about the woman; everyone blames me because she lost her job. After work, I told Molly and DeShawn about all the drama at the firm, and I got yelled at for "causing problems." DeShawn says I need to be careful because he doesn't want me losing my job with the kid coming. The nerve! He lays around the condo with my wife all day while I bust my ass to support them — and instead trying to ensure a better future for his unborn chil-d by getting a job himself, the lazy bastard has the gall to tell ME to be careful at work so he doesn't lose his cash cow. Of course, my only response was to bow my head and say, "yes, sir." DeShawn replied "that's my good little bitch," and then he did me a "favor" by "allowing me" to suck his dick. He said he wanted to save his nut for Molly, so he stopped me halfway through my blowjob and took my wife upstairs. I finished my chores with Molly's screams echoing throughout the condo.

December 22
Darlene gave me my "Christmas present" when I came over to clean her house last night — a ****** reaming with "Big Bertha," the name she's given to her massive strap-on. She says she enjoys making me cry when she fucks me, and until there are real tears coming out of my eyes and mascara running down my cheeks, my mo-ther-in-law insists I'm being a "fake drama queen," and will only pump harder. Once I'm properly bawling, she might take pity on me and ease up a bit, although my tears sometimes prompt her to try to hurt me even more. She gets a really strange glint in her eye when she hate-fucks me like that. Molly said her fath-er ran off when she was a baby, and that Darlene never got over it. Maybe the old bitch is taking those skeletons out on me. What the hell, everyone does it, right? Cassandra hates white men, so she tries make me miserable whenever I see her. I guess I should be glad to be useful and that I'm providing an outlet for the ladies' frustrations. Ugh.

December 23
I spent the evening shopping after Molly told me we'll be hosting a family get-together at the condo tomorrow night. Cassandra, Darlene, James and his wife LaDonna plan to come over. I'm dreading it. Every one of our invited guests hates my guts.

December 25
Well, to my great surprise, the party wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Everyone seemed so happy that Molly and DeShawn are starting a family, they pretty much ignored me while I scurried around serving them. It was the kind of normal scene I think DeShawn wants in the future — no overt kinky stuff, just impeccable maid service. If that's to be my fate, it won't be so bad. I hope not, anyway. But there always seems to be something around the corner to knock me on my ass and suck all the hope out of me.

December 28
My neck and jaw are aching. Before he went to bed last night, DeShawn told me he wanted me to give him his propers all night while he slept. I spent seven hours with my tongue in DeShawn's ass while he cuddled with my wife and snoozed. I don't know what possessed him to make me do that, but in the morning he said it felt good. I made sure to thank him, and I felt a cold shot of hum-iliation when Molly scoffed and wondered aloud, "what kind of loser thanks someone for letting him lick their ass all night?" Then she told me to wash my face and make breakfast.

December 30
Molly and DeShawn saw the doctor today and he told them the pregnancy is going fine. They're weighing whether they should wait until the birth to learn the baby's sex, or find out early and start fixing up the room and buying baby clothes. Molly plans to take Lamaze classes, and she says I'll be her partner. Having to serve as a Lamaze coach when I'm not the fath-er won't be easy on me, but as always, I'll grit my teeth and make the best of it.

December 31
Almost midnight. I can't believe another year is gone. Looking back, I'd have to say that while I endured a lot of heartache and hum-iliation, in many ways I'm much better off than I was a year ago. There was a lot of uncertainty as to whether DeShawn was going to let me stick around, whereas now I'm an integral part of his plans for the future. He's a lot nicer to me than he was a year ago. I can't remember the last time he or Molly bitch-slapped me. So, all in all, I'd have to say it's been a decent year. There was bad stuff, too, like alienating my family. But I'm counting my blessings. It could've been a hell of a lot worse.

THUS, CONCLUDES YEAR ONE OF OUR CUCKOLD'S JOURNEY. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO CONTINUE INTO YEAR TWO AND BEYOND? IF THERE'S INTEREST, LET ME KNOW.

For sure please just keep going cwcobblestone !

O yes