"toad" part I

“toad” part II

by c.w. cobblestone

The spaghetti-like tangle of Xbox cords began to unravel a bit as I walked my fingers inch-by-inch down the cable, trying to focus so I wouldn’t again lose track and tie yet another knot.

My concentration was shattered by my wife’s bitchy voice: “toad! Get in here.”

I wanted to cry. Instead, I dropped the clump of cords, undoing all my hard work, and then scurried to the living room to see what my beloved wanted.

She held out her glass. “Refill.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I turned toward my wife’s sister. “Miss Lisa, do you need a refill, too?”

“No, toad, I’m good.”

I bowed to my sister-in-law to acknowledge her non-order before scuttling to the kitchen to fetch my wife’s drink.

Janie looked up at me as I set her glass on the table.

“How’s it coming with your master’s Xbox?”

Tears filled my eyes. “I’m trying, Mistress, but I … I can’t figure it out. There’s so many cords …”

“Poor toad.” My wife picked up her glass and chuckled. “He’s gonna whoop your ass if it isn’t ready.”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “Ooh, I want to see that.”

Janie took a sip. “See what?”

“Omar kicking the toad’s ass. That would be so awesome.”

“Oh, believe me, it is awesome, to see the little bitch cowering … begging Omar to stop; it’s so primal.” My wife sighed. “Mmmmm, I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”

I cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me, Mistress … uh, is it okay if I get back to Master’s Xbox?”

Janie shook her head. “Nope. My sister wants to see Omar kick your ass, and so do I. So, no, toad — leave it. You can go upstairs and polish my shoes instead until he gets home. When your master asks about his Xbox, I want you to tell him you forgot. You understand me, toad?”

Her edict knocked the air out of me. I fell to my knees, hands clasped.

“Oh, please, Mistress, please, no. Oh, no … please I … I … don’t want … I don’t want him … to … please, don’t let him …” The tears choked me and I couldn’t finish the sentence.

My wife clucked her tongue. “I think you’re being selfish, toad. Didn’t you hear my sister say just a second ago that it would be awesome to watch Omar kick your little faggot ass?”

I blinked. “Y-yes, Mistress, but—"

“But, nothing, toad. I give you a direct order to go polish my shoes and you dare to question me?”

“I … um … Mistress, I …”

“Maybe I should tell Omar that you’re disrespecting me, too.”

My panic skyrocketed and I had to slam my hand onto my chest to keep from throwing up.

“No, no, Mistress, please, please, I’m not … I’d never disrespect you, Mistress, please, I’m so sorry, Mistress. I’ll tell Master that I forgot about his Xbox, so Lisa can … can watch him … um, beat me.”

Janie smirked. “See? That’s the spirit, toad. As long as I don’t tell him you were disrespecting me, he’s probably not gonna hurt you too bad; he’ll most likely just slap you around a little. So, rather than disrespecting me and setting yourself up for a serious ass-kicking, you should act like you’re happy to provide us entertainment. Now, then — thank us for the privilege.”

My Adam’s apple felt stuck but I managed to peep, “t-thank you?”

From her perch on the couch, my wife leaned down to where I was kneeling on the carpet and bopped me upside the head. I saw stars.

“Don’t give me that crybaby bullshit, toad,” she said. “Act like you’re happy, goddamn it. I mean, think about it: Lisa and me get to watch my sexy man work you over. Aren’t you happy about that?”

Licking my lips, I squeaked, “Y-yes, Mistress.”

“Well, then, smile when you thank us.”

I must have looked quite the idiot trying to contort my mouth upward while crying my eyes out, because they both cracked up as I forced a fake smile and said in my cheeriest fake voice, “Thank you, Mistress. Thank you, Miss Lisa.”

Lisa pouted. “Poor widdle toad wooks so saaaaad.” She batted her eyes at me. “Tell me something, toad: is it wrong for me to want to see Omar kick your ass? I mean, you know I never liked you, because you’re an ugly little toad … but it’s still kind of mean for me to want to see you get your ass kicked for something you didn’t even do. Isn't it?"

I stared at the ground, prompting Lisa to lean down to make eye contact.

“Are you mad at me, toad?” She smirked. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were.”

Amid the barrage of fear and humiliation my emotions poured out: “Um, I don’t know, Miss Lisa. I just … I just want to make Janie happy because I … I love her so much and I’ll do whatever she wants … because … I … I love her.”

The sisters looked at each other and simultaneously cooed, “awwwwwwwwwwww.” They rolled over laughing. And I cried even more.

Eventually, they caught their breath, and my wife frowned at me. “You better not let Omar hear you talking about you love me. He’ll put you in the damn hospital — and we don’t want that because then we won’t have our little bitch around the house to clean.”

The sisters shared another laugh. Then my wife’s lip curled.

“Why are you still kneeling there like a beached whale, toad? Go polish my shoes until my man gets home like I told you. And get ready to get your ass whooped.”

“Y-yes, Mistress, t-thank you.” I remembered to put on my fake smile this time, eliciting a titter from both women.

With the nonstop tears continuing to stream down my cheeks, I turned and ran away. Lisa’s squeal followed me up the stairs.

“OMG, Janie, I can’t wait to see this.”