“Meet the Grandparents,” Chapter 2
“Meet the Grandparents,” Chapter 2
by c.w. cobblestone
I darted down the stairwell with the baby’s diaper bag slung over my shoulder, wincing at his piercing shrieks, knowing I’d catch the blame if I couldn’t shut the little bastard up.
“Put him right there,” Pam said, nodding at a spot on the rug near the couch while bouncing her crying son on her lap. After spreading out the blanket on the carpet where my wife had indicated, I took Little Demarcus from her bosom and gave him his pacifier. He calmed down, allowing me to change his shitty diaper without incident.
“Boy, that must be nice,” Carla said as she watched me work from the comfort of her recliner. She smiled at her son. “I sure wish I’d have had a Jody around when you were a baby, as much as you messed your diapers.”
Pam chuckled and rested her head on Demarcus’s muscular shoulder. “Sounds like Little D takes after his *** in more ways than one.”
Carla pouted at me. “Aw, poor Jody — if Little D is anything like his daddy was, you must change a lot of diapers, huh?”
“Um, it’s okay, ma’am, that’s what I’m here for.” I managed a weak smile after my reply fell flat.
When the baby was changed, I handed him to his mother and discarded the dirty diaper in the mudroom trash bin before returning to the living room and standing at attention with my hands folded in front of my apron.
Demarcus smiled at his mother. “So, Ma, what do you want Jody to do first?”
“Well, you said on the phone he gives expert foot massages. My feet are killing me — is it okay if I have him do that first?”
Pam tsked. “Come on, now, Ma, you don’t need to ask — Jody’s here for whatever you want. All you have to do is snap your fingers and he’ll do it.”
“Well, shoot, in that case …” Carla pushed up her recliner’s footstool, raised her hand high in the air, and snapped her fingers. “I want a foot massage — get to it, Jody.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I curtsied. “Um, I packed the lotion I use for my master and mistress’s foot massages if you want me to run upstairs and get it from the bag.”
Demarcus frowned. “Don’t you think you should check with your mistress and me before you go offering up our special foot lotion, sissy?”
Blood drained from my face as I executed a shaky curtsy. “Oh, sir, please, please, sir, I didn’t mean … I … uh …”
My master laughed and waved his hand. “I’m just messing with you, sissy.”
Carla held her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my gawd, that poor little thing is SO afraid of you.”
Demarcus leaned back and smirked. “I like him being afraid of me. Keeps him on his little sissy toes.”
I stood there for a moment unsure of what to do before curtsying toward my master. “Um, permission to speak?”
Ronald guffawed. “Damn, he needs permission to speak, even?”
Demarcus nodded. “He speaks only when spoken to.”
“Nobody wants to hear anything he has to say anyway,” Pam added, crinkling her nose.
Demarcus leaned back on the couch, stroking my wife’s thigh and letting me stand there for several more seconds, showing off for his parents, before finally nodding. “What, sissy? Speak.”
I curtsied again. “Um, sir, I wasn’t sure … uh, if it was okay to use your special foot lotion, sir.”
Demarcus slapped his head. “Yes, jeez, you little pansy, I told you I was just messing with you. Go get it. Of course, you can use it on my mom.”
After I’d curtsied and headed toward the stairs, I heard Ronald sniff. “Gawd damn, son, you got that poor little sissy so scared, he can’t even think straight.”
Within a few minutes, I was on my knees in front of Carla’s recliner, rubbing lotion into her feet as she relaxed with her sleeping grandson in her lap and a satisfied look on her face.
“Ahh, this is wonderful,” she said. “I’m starting to like this arrangement of yours more and more. Ronald, we need to get us a Jody.”
“That would be nice,” Ronald agreed, eyeing me. “Pam, I find it hard to believe a beautiful woman like you is married to a little poof like this.”
“Well, he didn’t always dress as a girl,” Pam said. “Believe it or not, he used to be a man — although not half the man your son is.”
“Not.” Ronald sneered at me. “So, sissy, my son just took your wife off you? Didn’t you try to hold onto her?”
I lowered my eyes and continued rubbing Carla’s feet. “Um, sir, when they met at the gym, it was love at first sight. From the first day, I knew there was nothing I could ever do to stop them from being together.”
“So, you asked if you could stick around and be their little bitch? Don’t you have any damn pride, sissy?”
Carla frowned at her husband. “Hush, Ronald, the poor thing loves her, and he’ll do anything for her. I think it’s kinda sweet.”
Ronald scoffed. “Well, it might be sweet — but I’ll be goddamned if I’d stick around like a sap after my woman told me she didn’t want me.”
“That’s because you’re not a little sissy, Pop,” Demarcus said.
Pam nodded. “No, sir, you’re not. Demarcus told me — you were a better running back in college than he was.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t smart like he was — I screwed around in school, so when I blew out my Achilles tendon, I had no backup. This boy went to law school and studied hard, so when he went down with that knee injury, he had something to fall back on.”
“And became the best trial lawyer in town,” Carla said as she adjusted her foot in my hand and smiled at Pam. “We don’t get your guys’ channels way out here, but Demarcus sends us videos of his commercials. We’re so proud of him.”
“He’s a damn ambulance-chaser,” Ronald joshed his son.
“I made enough money chasing those ambulances to buy you this dump, didn’t I, old man?” Demarcus kidded back.
“Well, it is a dump.” Carla looked down at me. “When you’re done with these feet, you’ve got a WHOLE lot of cleaning to do, understand?”
“Y-yes, Ma’am,” I replied.
After I finished Carla’s foot rub, I spent the next several hours cleaning her house nonstop, until it was time for bed. I was exhausted and was looking forward to crawling into my Dora the Explorer sleeping bag, but as soon as I entered the guest bedroom, Demarcus grabbed my shoulder and pressed his lips against my ear.
“Listen, sissy, I want you to go out to the garage, but be quiet opening and closing the side door,” he said “My ***’s out there; do whatever he says, you hear?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
With a lungful of apprehension, I skulked into the garage to find Ronald in his bathrobe leering at me. He unraveled the drawstring and uncloaked a cock that was even bigger than his son’s howitzer.
He snapped his fingers. “Get over here, sissy, and put those dick-sucking lips to work.”
With my head hung low, I edged toward my master’s father and sank to my knees. He repeatedly slapped my cheek with his fat dick, and it hurt.
“Mama’s had a bad back, and she hasn’t been up for any lovin’,” he explained as he shoved his cock down my throat. “It’s been a while — so this probably won’t take long.”
He was right. Ronald shot his load down my gullet in what seemed to be less than two minutes.
“You keep quiet about this, you hear?” Ronald grabbed my hair and forced me to look at him. “I don’t want Carla finding out. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, licking the inside of my mouth to dispel the taste of cum.
Ronald slapped me in the face and I doubled over rubbing my cheek.
“Good job, bitch, you’ll be doing that a lot in the next few days. What do you say?”
“T-thank you, sir.”
Without another word, he turned and strolled into the house.
I knelt there sobbing for a few minutes before pulling myself together and heading inside. After tiptoeing up the stairs and inching open the guest bedroom door, I slipped inside the room to find my master cuddled up on the bed asleep.
As quietly as I could, I removed my maid’s frock, pulled my sleeping back from under the bed, and rested my weary bones at my masters’ feet. I lay in the darkness contemplating the long days of work ahead of me before finally drifting off to sleep.
by c.w. cobblestone
I darted down the stairwell with the baby’s diaper bag slung over my shoulder, wincing at his piercing shrieks, knowing I’d catch the blame if I couldn’t shut the little bastard up.
“Put him right there,” Pam said, nodding at a spot on the rug near the couch while bouncing her crying son on her lap. After spreading out the blanket on the carpet where my wife had indicated, I took Little Demarcus from her bosom and gave him his pacifier. He calmed down, allowing me to change his shitty diaper without incident.
“Boy, that must be nice,” Carla said as she watched me work from the comfort of her recliner. She smiled at her son. “I sure wish I’d have had a Jody around when you were a baby, as much as you messed your diapers.”
Pam chuckled and rested her head on Demarcus’s muscular shoulder. “Sounds like Little D takes after his *** in more ways than one.”
Carla pouted at me. “Aw, poor Jody — if Little D is anything like his daddy was, you must change a lot of diapers, huh?”
“Um, it’s okay, ma’am, that’s what I’m here for.” I managed a weak smile after my reply fell flat.
When the baby was changed, I handed him to his mother and discarded the dirty diaper in the mudroom trash bin before returning to the living room and standing at attention with my hands folded in front of my apron.
Demarcus smiled at his mother. “So, Ma, what do you want Jody to do first?”
“Well, you said on the phone he gives expert foot massages. My feet are killing me — is it okay if I have him do that first?”
Pam tsked. “Come on, now, Ma, you don’t need to ask — Jody’s here for whatever you want. All you have to do is snap your fingers and he’ll do it.”
“Well, shoot, in that case …” Carla pushed up her recliner’s footstool, raised her hand high in the air, and snapped her fingers. “I want a foot massage — get to it, Jody.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I curtsied. “Um, I packed the lotion I use for my master and mistress’s foot massages if you want me to run upstairs and get it from the bag.”
Demarcus frowned. “Don’t you think you should check with your mistress and me before you go offering up our special foot lotion, sissy?”
Blood drained from my face as I executed a shaky curtsy. “Oh, sir, please, please, sir, I didn’t mean … I … uh …”
My master laughed and waved his hand. “I’m just messing with you, sissy.”
Carla held her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my gawd, that poor little thing is SO afraid of you.”
Demarcus leaned back and smirked. “I like him being afraid of me. Keeps him on his little sissy toes.”
I stood there for a moment unsure of what to do before curtsying toward my master. “Um, permission to speak?”
Ronald guffawed. “Damn, he needs permission to speak, even?”
Demarcus nodded. “He speaks only when spoken to.”
“Nobody wants to hear anything he has to say anyway,” Pam added, crinkling her nose.
Demarcus leaned back on the couch, stroking my wife’s thigh and letting me stand there for several more seconds, showing off for his parents, before finally nodding. “What, sissy? Speak.”
I curtsied again. “Um, sir, I wasn’t sure … uh, if it was okay to use your special foot lotion, sir.”
Demarcus slapped his head. “Yes, jeez, you little pansy, I told you I was just messing with you. Go get it. Of course, you can use it on my mom.”
After I’d curtsied and headed toward the stairs, I heard Ronald sniff. “Gawd damn, son, you got that poor little sissy so scared, he can’t even think straight.”
Within a few minutes, I was on my knees in front of Carla’s recliner, rubbing lotion into her feet as she relaxed with her sleeping grandson in her lap and a satisfied look on her face.
“Ahh, this is wonderful,” she said. “I’m starting to like this arrangement of yours more and more. Ronald, we need to get us a Jody.”
“That would be nice,” Ronald agreed, eyeing me. “Pam, I find it hard to believe a beautiful woman like you is married to a little poof like this.”
“Well, he didn’t always dress as a girl,” Pam said. “Believe it or not, he used to be a man — although not half the man your son is.”
“Not.” Ronald sneered at me. “So, sissy, my son just took your wife off you? Didn’t you try to hold onto her?”
I lowered my eyes and continued rubbing Carla’s feet. “Um, sir, when they met at the gym, it was love at first sight. From the first day, I knew there was nothing I could ever do to stop them from being together.”
“So, you asked if you could stick around and be their little bitch? Don’t you have any damn pride, sissy?”
Carla frowned at her husband. “Hush, Ronald, the poor thing loves her, and he’ll do anything for her. I think it’s kinda sweet.”
Ronald scoffed. “Well, it might be sweet — but I’ll be goddamned if I’d stick around like a sap after my woman told me she didn’t want me.”
“That’s because you’re not a little sissy, Pop,” Demarcus said.
Pam nodded. “No, sir, you’re not. Demarcus told me — you were a better running back in college than he was.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t smart like he was — I screwed around in school, so when I blew out my Achilles tendon, I had no backup. This boy went to law school and studied hard, so when he went down with that knee injury, he had something to fall back on.”
“And became the best trial lawyer in town,” Carla said as she adjusted her foot in my hand and smiled at Pam. “We don’t get your guys’ channels way out here, but Demarcus sends us videos of his commercials. We’re so proud of him.”
“He’s a damn ambulance-chaser,” Ronald joshed his son.
“I made enough money chasing those ambulances to buy you this dump, didn’t I, old man?” Demarcus kidded back.
“Well, it is a dump.” Carla looked down at me. “When you’re done with these feet, you’ve got a WHOLE lot of cleaning to do, understand?”
“Y-yes, Ma’am,” I replied.
After I finished Carla’s foot rub, I spent the next several hours cleaning her house nonstop, until it was time for bed. I was exhausted and was looking forward to crawling into my Dora the Explorer sleeping bag, but as soon as I entered the guest bedroom, Demarcus grabbed my shoulder and pressed his lips against my ear.
“Listen, sissy, I want you to go out to the garage, but be quiet opening and closing the side door,” he said “My ***’s out there; do whatever he says, you hear?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
With a lungful of apprehension, I skulked into the garage to find Ronald in his bathrobe leering at me. He unraveled the drawstring and uncloaked a cock that was even bigger than his son’s howitzer.
He snapped his fingers. “Get over here, sissy, and put those dick-sucking lips to work.”
With my head hung low, I edged toward my master’s father and sank to my knees. He repeatedly slapped my cheek with his fat dick, and it hurt.
“Mama’s had a bad back, and she hasn’t been up for any lovin’,” he explained as he shoved his cock down my throat. “It’s been a while — so this probably won’t take long.”
He was right. Ronald shot his load down my gullet in what seemed to be less than two minutes.
“You keep quiet about this, you hear?” Ronald grabbed my hair and forced me to look at him. “I don’t want Carla finding out. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, licking the inside of my mouth to dispel the taste of cum.
Ronald slapped me in the face and I doubled over rubbing my cheek.
“Good job, bitch, you’ll be doing that a lot in the next few days. What do you say?”
“T-thank you, sir.”
Without another word, he turned and strolled into the house.
I knelt there sobbing for a few minutes before pulling myself together and heading inside. After tiptoeing up the stairs and inching open the guest bedroom door, I slipped inside the room to find my master cuddled up on the bed asleep.
As quietly as I could, I removed my maid’s frock, pulled my sleeping back from under the bed, and rested my weary bones at my masters’ feet. I lay in the darkness contemplating the long days of work ahead of me before finally drifting off to sleep.
- Previous page: Overview
