This is a series that will consist of cuckold stories where wives have sex and relations outside of marriage and husbands love that. There are Alpha boyfriends who will show the husbands their place and dominating wives to show cucks their place.
Story 4
Family Style Humiliation
My wife has been cucking me from 6 years and I have been placed in a chastity cage since then. She was disappointed with me in sex so she called her ex Danny and made arrangements for them. Now, Danny is her real man for over 5 years, while I am her maid who lives inside a cage and even my cock is caged.
She had decided that my reality had to be exposed to my family, but in a different way.
I still remember the first time I introduced "my friend" Danny to my family. She insisted we invite him to our family's Christmas dinner because he was in town and had no family nearby. I didn’t like the idea, but she wouldn't take no for an answer."Come on, it's the season of giving," she said with a smirk.
When we arrived, Danny was already there. My wife had gone ahead earlier to “help set up,” but when I walked in, I found them alone in the kitchen. She was laughing as he whispered something in her ear, their bodies just too close. When she saw me, she smiled as if nothing was out of place.
As we moved to the dining room, I noticed something—there weren’t enough chairs at the main table.
"Oh no," my mother said. "Looks like we’re one seat short!"
Before I could say anything, my wife quickly spoke up.
"That’s okay! My husband can sit at the kids' table!"
I blinked. "What? I can just grab another chair—"
Danny chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, man, let the kids have some fun with you."
The room laughed.
"Oh, come on, honey," my wife said, "You love kids, don’t you?"
So while everyone else sat at the beautifully decorated main table, drinking wine and laughing, I sat at the small kids' table, struggling to fit my knees under it.
Danny leaned back in my chair, draping his arm around my wife’s shoulder. "Wow, this seat’s actually pretty comfy."
She giggled. "Told you."
As dinner went on, Danny became more comfortable, and at one point, he snapped his fingers. "Hey buddy, could you grab me some more wine?" I looked at my wife, expecting her to say something, but she just smiled. "That’s a great idea. You’re closest to the kitchen anyway." I stood up and poured his drink as he smirked. "And maybe wipe the bottle, yeah? Wouldn’t want any drips on my suit." Laughter rippled through the table. "Oh, stop being such a diva, Danny," my wife teased, playfully slapping his arm. Still, I went back and got him another glass. "That’s better. Thanks, man. You’re really nailing the waiter thing."
I sat back down, gripping my fork, but suddenly a foul smell filled the air. At the kids' table, my four-year-old nephew had an accident, he pooped in his pants. His mother wrinkled her nose. "Oh no, sweetie, let’s get you cleaned up." She started to stand, but my wife stopped her. "Don’t worry, he’ll do it," she said, nodding toward me. I froze mid-bite. "Come on, honey," she added as if it were obvious. "You’re already taking care of the kids." Danny burst out laughing. "Man, you really do it all, huh?" Everyone chuckled. I put down my plate, took the kid to the bathroom, and spent ten minutes wiping shit off him. I returned—only to hear my sister-in-law gasp. "Oh my God!" she yelped. "He peed under the table!" I turned to see another toddler standing with his pants down, a puddle forming at his feet, my face burning with secondhand embarrassment. My wife barely reacted. "Oh, just take care of that too" she told me. "We don’t want the floor smelling." Swallowing hard, I grabbed a roll of paper towels and got down on my hands and knees to clean up the mess while the family continued chatting and eating. Danny watched with an amused smirk. "Damn, man. Wiping piss off the floor during dinner? That’s gotta be a new low." The family chuckled again, and I forced a small smile, trying to ignore how red my face was. Just as I finished, another commotion started—the third kid, my five-year-old niece, suddenly burst into giggles."Uncle! Look what I found!" she exclaimed, and I turned, confused—until I saw it: my underwear. My dirty underwear. My stomach dropped as she held it up like a trophy, waving it around for the entire family to see. It wasn’t just any pair—it was an old one, faded from too many washes, covered in tiny red hearts, and worst of all, it had a huge hole in the back. "Uncle, why are there little hearts on it?" she giggled loudly, prompting the entire table to erupt in laughter. My wife gasped, covering her mouth with eyes twinkling with amusement, while my father nearly spit out his drink.Danny grinned. "Wait… wait… are you telling me my man here owns heart-patterned pink underwear?" He laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear from his eye. "No way," he choked out, "Are those seriously his?" My niece nodded eagerly, adding, "Yeah! And it’s got a big hole right on the butt!" Danny lost it, leaning back in his chair and shaking with laughter as he declared, "Oh, man, this is priceless!" I lunged toward her, my face burning with embarrassment, and demanded, "Give me that!"But the kids weren’t letting go. "Wear them, Uncle!" one shouted. "Yeah, put them on!" another cheered. Before I could even protest, my niece dramatically flipped the underwear around, proudly displaying the enormous hole in the back. The entire table howled with laughter, some pounding the table, others wiping away tears. My face burned hotter than ever as Danny nearly fell out of his chair, gasping between fits of laughter.My wife bit her lip, trying to contain her giggles. "Honey, come on, just put them on—over your pants, of course. It’s all in good fun." Danny smirked. "Yeah, man, own it. Let’s see the hero in action." I sighed, realizing there was no way out. With a theatrical groan, I took the underwear and slid them on over my pants, and the kids exploded into cheers, clapping like I had just performed a magic trick. But Danny wasn’t done. He pointed at the gaping hole in the back and snorted, "Dude… functional ventilation, huh?" The entire table burst into another round of laughter, my father even patting Danny on the back with a grin. "I swear, you bring out the best in this family." I covered my face with my hands. "Merry Christmas to me," I muttered. Danny smirked. "Merry Christmas, buddy. You’re the gift that keeps on giving."
As the adults lounged around the fire pit, laughing and sipping drinks, I was still stuck wrangling the kids. So, while everyone else sat around the fire, wrapped in blankets, sipping wine, and laughing, I was inside, making hot chocolate for the kids, changing their diapers and playing board games. Through the window, I saw Danny and my wife wrapped in the same thick blanket. He whispered something to her, and she laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. When the wind picked up, she shivered, and he pulled her in closer, rubbing her arms for warmth. I looked around the room—nobody seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn’t care. A few minutes later, my sister-in-law walked in, looking amused. "You’re really committed to this babysitting thing, huh?" I chuckled awkwardly. "Just making sure the kids are good. "Later that night, as the wine kept flowing, my father stood up and clapped Danny on the back. "You should stay the night, son! No need to drive home in this weather." "Are you sure?" Danny asked, glancing at my wife. She beamed. "That would be great!"
As the night settled in, I walked into the bedroom, ready to collapse after the exhausting day, only to find Danny already lounging on my side of the bed, leaning back as if he owned the place. My wife stood beside him, arms crossed, looking at me with a knowing smile. Danny stretched lazily. “Man, what a long day, huh? You must be exhausted,” he said casually. I nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, I was just about to—” Danny cut me off with a smirk. “Yeah, see, about that… I was thinking you might sleep better on the couch tonight. You’ve been running around all day, taking care of everyone. Wouldn’t want her to disturb your sleep with all that tossing and turning.” I frowned. “What? I—” My wife stepped in, placing a hand on my arm. “Honey, maybe he’s right. You’ve been so busy today, and the couch is actually pretty comfortable. I mean don't you sleep in a cage at our home. The couch is definitely better than cage” Danny grinned. “See? She agrees. Besides, we’ll take good care of the bed for you.” He winked, making my stomach tighten. I opened my mouth to protest, but my wife was already fluffing a pillow for me to take. Danny leaned back, hands behind his head. “Come on, even you know that if she and you slept here together, there wont be any action. At least with us sleeping together, this bed will get the feeling of sex for the first time” he said smoothly. I swallowed hard, but in the end, I sighed and took the pillow. As I turned to leave, Danny chuckled. “Sweet dreams, buddy.” I closed the door behind me. The couch never felt lonelier. I have been sleeping in a cage at home but at my parents house, I did not expect that.
I woke up stiff on the couch, my neck aching from the awkward position. The faint smell of coffee drifted through the air, mixing with the scent of bacon frying in the kitchen. I rubbed my eyes and stretched, trying to shake off the discomfort. Laughter echoed from the hallway. Danny emerged shirtless, his toned body on full display. He stretched, yawning, then ran a hand through his messy hair. "Man, that was a great night," he sighed, grinning. My wife walked out behind him, dressed in one of my shirts, her hair a mess. She didn’t even glance at me. Danny smirked. "Slept well on the couch, buddy?" he asked, patting my shoulder as he walked past me toward the kitchen. I forced a smile. "Yeah… fine." He chuckled. "That couch is pretty lumpy, huh? But don’t worry, your wife kept me nice and comfortable in bed." I swallowed hard. I could feel my father’s gaze on me from across the room. He was sipping his coffee, shaking his head with a knowing smile. "Son," he said, "I gotta say… you really gave it to your wife last night. I could hear it from my room.He was unaware that Danny fucked my wife last night." Danny let out a loud laugh. My wife giggled, covering her mouth. "Yeah," Danny added, nudging me, "he really put in the work… right, sweetheart?" My wife smirked and nudged Danny back playfully. I felt my stomach sink.
Everyone was already seated at the main table.
Except for me.
I immediately noticed—one less chair.
I hesitated.
My wife smiled. "Oh… looks like we don’t have enough seats."
Danny smirked, stretching his bare chest.
"No big deal, man. He had fun with the kids last night, right? He can sit with them again."
Laughter.
My stomach dropped.
My wife nodded. "Yeah! He was already taking care of them yesterday. It’s like he's part of their little group now."
Danny chuckled. "Oh yeah… especially after last night. I mean, what kind of grown man stops eating dinner to wipe a kid’s ass?"
The entire table laughed.
I felt my face burn.
Danny grinned at me. "I mean, come on, man. While all of us were drinking wine and having real conversations at the adult table, you were over there scrubbing shit off a toddler."
More laughter.
I swallowed hard.
Danny leaned closer. "Hell, you wiped a kid’s ass. Might as well sit with them too."
Laughter exploded.
Then, his final burn:
Danny shook his head, smirking. "Man, last night was great. We were all up here at the main table—drinking, laughing, talking about real stuff... and every time I looked over at you, you were down there on your knees, dealing with a peeing kid and a mess of pink undies."
The entire family cracked up.
Even my dad grinned. "Yeah, son, you really took one for the team last night."
My wife patted my shoulder. "Come on, honey. It’s just for breakfast."
Then—I sat at the kids’ table.
It was tiny, uncomfortable.
I barely fit.
As I adjusted my seat, one of the kids wrinkled their nose and pointed at me. "Eww! That’s where I peed last night!"
More laughter erupted from the adult table.
Danny whistled. "Damn, man. You really are part of their little club now."
My face burned.
Another kid, giggling, pulled something from under the table. "Hey! You forgot your pink undies!"
The kid held them up for everyone to see—the heart-covered, bright pink underwear… still with the giant hole in the back.
The other kids immediately started chanting.
"Wear it! Wear it! Wear it!"
I shook my head. "Guys, come on—"
"Wear it! Wear it!"
Danny grinned, crossing his arms. "C’mon, man. You don’t wanna let the kids down, do you?"
My wife giggled. "You did wear them last night. What’s the harm?"
The chanting grew louder. The adults laughed.
My face burned as I grabbed the ridiculous underwear and, with a sigh of defeat, pulled them over my pants.
The kids cheered.
Danny smirked. "There we go. Pink Undie Man is back in action!"
More laughter.
Danny leaned back, shaking his head. "Man, first the kids’ table, now the official uniform. I think he’s really settling in."
The adults roared with laughter.
I just stared at my empty plate.
Danny leaned back in his chair, stretching. "Damn, this breakfast is great."
The table was a mess, with everyone talking at once, passing plates, reaching for food, and calling out requests—syrup, butter, more coffee. It was chaos. Danny leaned back in his chair, smirking as he watched the commotion, then turned to me. "Man, this is getting messy."He snapped his fingers at me and said in a grinning tone," Why don’t you make yourself useful? Since you’re already at the kids’ table, why don’t you be the waiter for us?" I blinked. "Waiter?" Danny chuckled. "Yeah, bro. We’re all struggling to get what we need, and you’re just sitting there. Might as well serve us." Before I could respond, my mom clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Danny! It’ll make breakfast so much smoother." My dad chuckled. "Yeah, son, come on. You’re good at helping, aren’t you?" My wife smiled sweetly. "Oh, honey, you always like keeping things organized. This is perfect for you!" The table erupted in agreement, and Danny smirked. "See? Everyone loves the idea." As laughter filled the room, I swallowed hard and stood up.
Danny stretched his bare chest and smirked. "Alright, waiter. First order—get me some more coffee, yeah?" I nodded and poured his coffee, only for him to take a sip and grimace. "Damn, man. Did you forget the sugar? You want me to drink this bitter?" More laughter erupted as I quickly added sugar and stirred his cup. Danny took another sip, then leaned back with a satisfied nod. "Much better. See? You’re getting the hang of this." The humiliations kept coming. "Toast, eggs, bacon. Make sure it’s all warm, alright?" he ordered. I brought him his plate, but he inspected it with a frown. "Butter the toast, bro. You think I’m gonna do it myself?" I buttered his toast, cut it into pieces, and handed it back. Danny grinned. "Now, that’s how a real man gets served." The table roared with laughter.
The family caught on quickly. My mom waved her coffee mug with a smile. "Oh, sweetheart, while you’re up, can you refill mine too?" My dad chuckled, adding, "And grab me some more bacon, son." My wife smirked. "Oh, and I’d love some orange juice!" Suddenly, everyone was treating me like a real waiter, and I found myself running back and forth, serving them like it was my actual job. Danny stretched, grinning. "Man, I gotta say, this is great. Feels like we’re at a five-star restaurant." Then, with a smirk, he turned to the family. "Actually, you know what would really complete the experience? Should we just call him ‘Waiter’ so we really get that restaurant feel?" The family lit up at the suggestion. My mom clapped. "Oh, that’s a fantastic idea! It’ll make things so much smoother." My dad nodded. "Yeah, it fits. He’s the only one who hasn’t eaten yet because he’s too busy serving." My wife giggled. "And it does make things more efficient. ‘Waiter, can I get some orange juice?’ Sounds perfect!" Danny grinned at me. "Alright, Waiter. It’s official now." The whole table erupted in laughter. Then my mom beamed at him. "Danny, that was such a clever idea to ask him to be waiter. Look how smoothly everything is running now!" My dad nodded in agreement. "Yeah, son, take some notes from Danny. He knows how to take charge!" My wife giggled. "Breakfast has never been this organized! Thanks, Danny." Danny smirked. "Hey, I do what I can do the best. Gotta keep things efficient." I just kept serving.
As Danny cut into his pancakes, a drop of syrup fell onto his bare chest. He glanced down, smirking, then casually swiped his finger across his skin to scoop it up. Before I could react, he turned to my wife. "Open up, babe," he said. She giggled and took his finger into her mouth, sucking the syrup off with a playful smile. "Mmm, so sweet," she murmured. The whole table erupted in ‘Awws’ while Danny shot me a wink. "Damn, man. You sure she’s your wife?", everyone laughed.
Danny stretched his arms, yawning. "Damn, that was a good meal," he said, leaning back and rubbing his stomach, completely satisfied. Then, his eyes landed on his plate—one pancake left, half-eaten, drenched in syrup. He nudged the plate forward. "Hey man, you’ve been running around all morning. You should eat too." Laughter filled the room as I stared at the plate, his fork still resting on it, bite marks visible on the pancake. He pushed it closer. "C’mon, bro. You’re family, right?" I hesitated, feeling the table’s eyes on me. My mom smiled. "Oh, don’t be shy, sweetheart. Danny’s sharing with you!" My dad chuckled. "Yeah, son, don’t let good food go to waste." Danny smirked. "Be a man, dude. Eat up." I picked up his fork and ate it. The table burst into laughter. Danny patted my back. "Damn, you really know your place, huh?" More laughter. My wife giggled. "Honey, you’re so good at not letting food go to waste." Danny grinned. "Yeah. He’s a real… team player." Laughter echoed around the room. I finished Danny’s pancake, but I was still hungry. I looked around—there was no food left. Danny smirked. "Oh man, that’s rough. No breakfast for you?" I shrugged. Then, he snapped his fingers. "Hey, Mom. Why don’t you get him something?" My mom nodded eagerly. "Oh! Of course, sweetheart. We have extra pancakes in the kitchen!" Relief washed over me until she returned with a plate—a single pancake. I dug in, but the taste was off. "This tastes weird," I muttered. Danny burst out laughing. "Oh yeah, forgot to tell you," he smirked. "That one’s from last night." I froze. My mom nodded. "Yes! Danny told me to give it to you. Such a thoughtful boy, he didn’t want anything to go to waste." Danny leaned in, grinning. "Yeah, bro. Can’t have the waiter eating the same meal as the guests, right?" The table exploded with laughter.
Danny stretched his legs under the table, groaning. “Man, I feel stuffed. Good food, good company… what a morning.” He leaned back, completely relaxed, then suddenly frowned. "Damn. My feet are killing me." I looked up to see him wiggling his bare toes under the table. "Bro, where’d you put my shoes?" I blinked. "Your shoes?" Danny sighed. "Yeah, man. You were cleaning up earlier, right? You must’ve moved ‘em. Can’t find them anywhere." I frowned. "I didn’t touch them." Danny chuckled. "Oh really? ‘Cause you were already picking up after me this morning." The table laughed. My mom smiled. "Oh sweetheart, help him find his shoes, will you?" My dad nodded. "Yeah, son, don’t leave our guest hanging." I got up and started looking. Danny leaned back, watching, smirking. I found them by the door, picked them up, and brought them back. Danny grinned. "Ah, there they are. Thanks, man." But he didn’t take them—just sat there, arms folded, waiting. I hesitated. "Uh… here." Danny raised an eyebrow. "What, you just gonna hand them to me?" He smirked. "Come on, bro. You already served me breakfast. Might as well finish the job." Laughter. I bent down and placed his shoes neatly in front of him. Danny stretched his legs, slowly slipping his feet in, then smirked. "Damn. That’s service." More laughter. He tapped his foot. "Tight fit. Think you could lace ‘em up for me?" The table chuckled. Danny lifted his foot slightly, waiting. I bent down and laced up his shoes, tying them perfectly. Danny stretched his leg out, smirked. "Nice. Feels just right." The table burst into laughter. Danny patted my head. "Damn, bro. You’d make one hell of a butler." More laughter.
Danny stretched his arms, sighing in satisfaction. "Damn, that hit the spot." The table was a disaster—plates stacked high, crumbs scattered everywhere, coffee rings staining the tablecloth. My mom smiled. "That was such a wonderful breakfast. We should all sit and chat for a bit before Danny leaves." My dad nodded. "Yeah, let’s move to the living room. Let the food settle." Everyone stood up. Everyone—except Danny. He leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the table, then clicked his tongue. "Whoa, whoa, hold up." He raised a hand. "We can’t just leave this mess behind, right?" The table went quiet. My mom looked at the mess. "Oh, that’s true. Someone has to clear up first." Danny smirked and turned to me. "I think we all know who should do it." I froze. My dad chuckled. "Oh? And why’s that?" Danny leaned forward, tapping the table with his knuckles. "Well, come on, it’s common sense. My guy here already played waiter this morning—he’s got experience now." Laughter. Danny shrugged. "You serve the food—you clean up after. That’s how it works, right?" My wife giggled. "Oh, that’s actually true! It wouldn’t make sense for someone else to do it now." Danny smirked at me. "Right, waiter?" More laughter. I swallowed. "But I—" My mom smiled. "Sweetheart, don’t be difficult. It’s just a few dishes." My dad nodded. "Yeah, son, no point in making a fuss. Just finish the job." Danny grinned, then snapped his fingers. "Alright then." His smirk widened. "I now officially declare you… the waiter." The family laughed. Danny leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "Actually, you know what would make this even better?" He glanced around the table. "What’s a five-star restaurant without proper service?" He turned to me. "From now on, I want you to call me sir." The table erupted in laughter. My dad chuckled. "Now that’s a proper restaurant experience!" Danny smirked. "Go on then. Let’s hear it." I clenched my jaw. Danny raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man. Show some respect to your guest." I swallowed hard. "...Yes, sir." More laughter. Danny stretched, then snapped his fingers again. "Alright then. Waiter—clear the table." The table roared with laughter. One by one, they all stood up, headed to the living room. Danny smirked as he walked past me, patting my shoulder. "Make sure you get everything, alright? Hate to see a dirty table." More chuckles. And then—they left. Leaving me alone at the table. With their dirty plates. While they sat in the other room—chatting, laughing, enjoying the morning. I sighed and started cleaning.
Everyone moved to the living room, settling onto the couches. Danny, still shirtless, stretched his arms behind the couch, while my wife sat close to him, still wearing his shirt from last night. They looked… comfortable. The family was laughing, chatting—completely at ease. Then—Danny snapped his fingers. "Waiter." I froze. Danny smirked. "Get us some water, yeah?" I stood up awkwardly, walked into the kitchen, and came back with two glasses, handing one to my wife and then to Danny. He took his glass, then tilted his head. "Man, is this how you serve? Where’s the tray?" Laughter followed. I swallowed. Danny shook his head, chuckling. "Five-star restaurants always use trays, man. You wanna be professional, right?" More chuckles. I turned, went back, and this time, I brought the glasses on a tray. Danny smirked. "Now that’s more like it." He took a sip, then gestured at me. "You know, I think it’d be way more efficient if you just stood in the corner." Laughter. I stiffened. "What?" Danny stretched, acting like he was deep in thought. "Yeah. That way, whenever we need something, we don’t have to keep calling you from another room." I froze. Danny leaned forward. "Just stand over there. By the wall. So you’re ready when we need you." Silence. My dad nodded. "Yeah, son. That way, we don’t have to keep asking you to come back and forth." My wife giggled. "Honey, this might actually be the best system!" Danny grinned. "See? Everyone loves it. So go ahead, man. Do your thing." Laughter. I stiffened. Danny leaned back, relaxing. "C’mon, bro. It’s not a big deal. Just stand over there. Be ready when we need you." I looked at my wife. She smiled, like this was normal. Danny raised an eyebrow. "What’s wrong? You’re acting like this is some kind of punishment." Laughter. "You love helping the family, right?" I clenched my jaw. Then—I stepped back and stood in the corner. Danny smirked. "Good man. Now we got real five-star service." The family laughed. Danny took another sip of water, then looked at me. "Oh, almost forgot." He grinned. "Shouldn’t you be calling me ‘sir’?" Silence. I froze. Danny raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead, man. Show some respect." Laughter. I swallowed hard. "Yes… sir." The room erupted. Danny leaned back, completely satisfied. "Much better." I just stood there. Waiting.
Danny tapped his foot. "You know, I could go for a snack." He turned to my wife. "You want anything?" She smiled. "Maybe some fruit." Danny grinned. "You heard her, waiter. Chop up some fruit. And make sure it’s presentable—this is a high-class place, after all." Laughter followed. I hurried to the kitchen, sliced the fruit, and returned with a neatly arranged plate. Danny picked up a grape, inspecting my work. "Damn, look at that effort. You really take this seriously, huh?" More laughter. My dad chuckled. "Good work, son. Keep it up!" Danny smirked. "You know, bro, if you ever get tired of your job, you could make a career out of this." Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Waiter." I straightened. "Yes, sir?" Danny grinned. "My hands are a little sticky from the fruit. Get me a tissue." I quickly grabbed a tissue box and held it out. Danny didn’t move. He raised an eyebrow. "What, do I have to reach for it myself?" Laughter filled the room. I froze. Danny tilted his head. "C’mon, man. Be professional." The family watched. I swallowed. Then—I knelt down and wiped his hands for him. The room erupted with laughter. Danny smirked. "Damn, top-tier service."
As they all chatted in the living room, Danny stretched and smirked. "Maybe I should put something on?" Before I could speak, my wife placed a hand on his chest. "No need," she said with a smile. "You look good like this." My mom nodded approvingly. "She’s right, Danny. It suits you!" My dad chuckled. "Reminds me of when I was young—confident, strong!" I clenched my fists, but nobody noticed. Then—the family photo idea came up. We all gathered together, and Danny stood next to my wife, his arm resting around her while I stood at the edge. The camera clicked. Everyone checked the picture. My mom beamed. "Oh my! Danny, you look amazing!" My dad nodded. "Look at that presence! Strong posture, confident expression—really stands out!" Danny smirked. "Ah, just natural, I guess." Then—they compared. "Look at the difference between Danny and—oh." My mom's voice trailed off as she glanced at me. The contrast was painfully obvious. Danny—tall, broad, shirtless, dominant. Me—awkward, out of place, barely noticed. Danny grinned. "You know, maybe we should take one with me and her in the center." Mom clapped. "Yes! Great idea!" Danny stood in the middle, my wife moved closer, pressing against him, and then—Danny placed his hand around her waist while she placed her hand on his bare chest. The camera clicked. Everyone checked the photo. They loved it. "Oh, this is perfect!" my mom gushed. "I want this framed! I know our waiter is not in this photo, but it just looks perfect. Danny, you are looking perfect standing shirtless in the center with her." Danny smirked, looking down at my wife. "Looks like we make a good pair, huh?" She laughed, not denying it.
The room buzzed with laughter as Danny sat relaxed, shirtless, his arm draped casually over the couch, while my wife, still wearing his shirt, leaned against him. And me? I stood in the corner. Like a good waiter. Then—it happened. My wife stretched, sighing. "Oh, I could go for something sweet." Danny smirked. "Well, good thing we have a waiter for that." She turned to me. "Honey, bring the cheesecake from the fridge." I nodded obediently, walked to the kitchen, and carefully sliced pieces for everyone. One by one, I served them. Danny? He got the biggest slice. My wife? A perfect piece. Mom and Dad? Nice, even portions. And then—me. One piece left. At least I got something. But as I turned, Danny stretched his leg forward. My foot caught. I stumbled. The plate flew. SPLAT. My cheesecake hit the floor. Silence. Danny raised an eyebrow. "Whoa. Clumsy much?" Laughter. My wife giggled. "Oh honey, be careful!" I sighed, bending down to clean it—then Danny made it worse. He lifted his foot and pressed it into the cheesecake, squishing the creamy dessert beneath his shoe. Laughter grew. Danny smirked. "Well… that’s a waste." I just stared. Then he looked at me. "You should eat it." My stomach dropped. Mom blinked. "Danny, that’s…" Dad frowned. "Isn’t that a bit much?" Danny grinned. "Think about it. He worked so hard serving us. Shouldn’t he enjoy his own food?" Silence. He leaned back. "Besides… he’s the one who dropped it. Actions have consequences, right?" My wife giggled. "I mean… he did mess up." Danny snapped his fingers. "Pick it up, waiter." I swallowed hard, then slowly bent down, scooping up the ruined cheesecake. Danny watched me. "Ah-ah. Not so fast." I paused. He smirked. "Before you eat… you should clean my shoe first." My stomach twisted. "Use the spoon," he continued. "Scrape off the cream. Eat that first. Then use a tissue to clean the rest. After that, you can have your cheesecake." I clenched my jaw. Mom hesitated. "Danny, is that really necessary?" Danny chuckled. "Of course. Look, it’s simple logic." He pointed at his shoe. "The cream got on my shoe because of his mistake. So it’s only fair he cleans it up." Then he smirked. "Besides… isn’t cheesecake best enjoyed bite by bite? Why rush? Let him savor it." Laughter exploded. My wife giggled. "That actually makes sense." Danny grinned. "See? I always have good reasons." Then—I did it. Spoon in hand, I scraped the cream off Danny’s shoe. And—I ate it. Danny smirked. "That’s a good little waiter." Laughter filled the room. I thought it was over. It wasn’t. Danny snapped his fingers again. "Actually… you should thank me." I looked up. "You want me to…?" He grinned. "Yeah. Thank me. I could’ve just thrown it out, but I let you have it. That’s generosity." My face burned. I turned to Mom and Dad—hoping for an escape. Mom shrugged. "I mean… he does have a point." Dad nodded. "You should be grateful, son." My wife giggled. "Yeah, honey. It’s only polite!" Danny leaned in. "Go on." I took a deep breath. And said it. "Thank you… Sir." The room erupted in laughter. Danny clapped. "Good manners. You’re learning." Then he leaned back. "Alright, waiter. You can finish your cheesecake now." I picked it up. And ate. Swallowing every bite.
After sometime, they went back to getting ready to leave. As Danny stood by the door, getting ready to leave, my parents practically surrounded him, their faces filled with warmth and admiration. My mom clasped her hands together, smiling.
“Danny, you absolutely have to come back for New Year’s,” she said eagerly. “It’s been such a wonderful time with you here. You bring such energy, such leadership—things we really need in this house.”
My dad nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you’re sharp, confident, and you take charge. This whole house runs smoother with you around. It’s just… refreshing.”
I swallowed hard, standing awkwardly to the side. My mom turned her gaze toward me, her smile dimming slightly.
“You could learn a thing or two from Danny, you know,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s responsible, decisive—he doesn’t need to be told what to do.”
My wife sighed dramatically, crossing her arms.
“Wow,” he chuckled. “Looks like I’ve really made an impression, huh?”
My mom nodded enthusiastically. “We just feel so at ease with you here, Danny.”
My dad sighed, shaking his head at me. “If only you had half his presence, son.”
Danny laughed, looking at me like I was some amusing little joke. Then he snapped his fingers.
“Alright, let’s make it official,” he announced. “If I’m coming back for New Year’s, I want things to be in order. And that means this guy—” he gestured at me, “—needs to be a proper waiter by then. No hesitation, no mistakes.”
My wife grinned, tilting her head as she looked at me.
My parents exchanged glances, then nodded approvingly.
“Discipline is important,” my dad said. “And if it helps him actually be useful for once, I’m all for it.”
Danny smirked at me. “Hear that? You’re officially in training. No slacking, no messing up. I expect perfection.”
I felt my face burn as my family—all of them—looked at me with expectation.
Danny grabbed his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder. “Alright then, I’ll see you all at New Year’s. And don’t disappoint me, waiter.”
With that, he strolled out, leaving me standing there, my new title sinking in as my family nodded in agreement.
