Day by Day, Month by Month, Year by Year

“Day by Day, Month by Month, Year by Year,” Part 4

by c.w. cobblestone

September 1​

Last night I was finally allowed into the bedroom to witness a mother-******** 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, drinks 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 animal 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 ***, 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 *** 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, *** 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 ***. 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 ******, 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 ******. 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 mother 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 drink 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 shit 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 sleep 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 shit 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, scraping 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 shit 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 sleep 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 killing me. In addition to my workload, my dog bed is so fucking uncomfortable, it’s not funny! Sleeping 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 killed two bottles of wine. Like they always do when they get *****, 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 ***. 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 shit. 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 ****** 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.