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Sir Clint and Asslicker Ian, Part III

Content warning: bullying / findom / homophobia / maledom / mental abuse / verbal insults / violence / watersports

Ian scratched his neck nervously after laying down the envelope of money. Once again he had withdrawn money from Frank's bank account and lied about how it was used. He didn't feel good about lying to his beloved husband, but he had no choice: early last month, Sir Clint had increased the fag tax. Since Ian was no longer working, he had hardly any financial resources left. And since he didn't want to risk Sir Clint getting unnecessarily upset just because he couldn't pay his fag tax in full, Ian just had to make use of his husband's fortune. The double game Ian was playing, keeping his obligations to Sir Clint secret from his husband, was putting him under increasing pressure. It was almost a miracle that Frank never came home when Sir Clint was “visiting” to collect his fag tax. Or that he never really questioned why Ian really needed the money. Probably, Ian thought, Frank deliberately didn't ask too many questions because he knows how bad Ian feels and he wants to protect him. Frank was such a loving husband. Without his support, he would never have been able to lead such a regular life for the last 20 years and even raise an adopted daughter. That's why it hurt Ian even more not to be honest with Frank. There were a few moments when he didn't seem to be able to take it anymore and wanted to confess everything. But his therapist Dr. Winter, had strongly advised him against it. Ian first had to clarify the situation with Sir Clint himself before involving anyone else, he recommended. Dr. Winter also recommended that Ian put the negative feelings he has towards Sir Clint on paper first so that he can be better prepared in a conversation with him. Ian had tried to write a text several times. But every time he started writing bad things about Sir Clint, it felt like a betrayal and he dismissed it. Instead, what came out was a love letter. More specifically, a love letter to Sir Clint's asshole. Reading that letter definitely felt humiliating to Ian... but at the same time he knew it was the truth. One day he would give the letter to Sir Clint.

*BRZRZRZ*

The sound of the doorbell brought Ian out of his thoughts. Sir Clint is early this morning, Ian thought. But when he opened the door, to his great surprise, someone else was there. Four young, muscular men with big grins on their faces. Ian recognized one of them immediately.

“You… you’re Aaron. Sir Clint’s son?!”

Two of the boys whispered to each other: “I can’t believe it. He really calls him ‘sir’.”

Aaron's grin disappeared. He looked rather annoyed now. He forcefully pushed Ian aside and went into the apartment with his friends.

“Is this how you greet your master’s son?”

Ian shook his head in bewilderment.

“Well then apologize! Or do I have to help?” said Aaron, raising his fist threateningly.

Ian fell to his knees. He bowed to Aaron.

“I am truly sorry. Welcome to my home...” Ian began to speak.

“Sir Aaron!” Aaron said.

“Welcome to my home…Sir Aaron!” Ian repeated humbly.

Afterwards, loud laughter went around. The four young men seemed visibly amused by the scene.

“Who else may I welcome here, Sir Aaron?” Ian asked, looking around.

Sir Aaron introduced them as Sir Tyler, Sir Matt and Sir Simon. After Ian had personally greeted each of them by name, they unabashedly looked around Ian's apartment and repeatedly made derogatory and insulting comments. Ian, who was visibly overwhelmed by the unexpected visit, finally gathered his courage and asked Sir Aaron the reason for his visit.

"I’ll explain later. Now get us some beer,” replied Sir Aaron.

When Ian came back into the living room with four cans of beer, Sir Aaron and Sir Simon were sitting on the couch. Ian served them the drink they had ordered. After the two boys had opened their cans and each took a sip, Sir Simon asked:

"Hey, is it really true that your name is Asslicker Ian?"

“Yes Sir Simon. That’s my name,” Ian answered shyly.

Sir Aaron and Sir Simon laughed. Then Sir Aaron finally wanted to reveal why he was here.

“My father want me to tell you that he's really sorry but he can't personally collect your fag tax today. He has something more important to do today. That's why he asked me to do it for him. And since my buddies and I wanted to hang out together for a while anyway, I drove over here with them.”

Ian didn’t liked the idea of Sir Clint telling his son all about their little “agreement”. It was extremely disturbing. But when he saw Sir Aaron sitting there he was immediately reminded of the young Sir Clint. Sir Aaron was as outrageously handsome and fit as he was back then. Even his arrogant body language was very similar. Ian immediately wondered if his hole tasted as good as his father's...

“Speaking of which. Where is your tax?” asked Sir Aaron.

Ian immediately retrieved the envelope of money and handed it to Sir Aaron. At that moment Sir Tyler and Sir Matt came into the room. They laughed and Sir Matt held up a pink object.

“Look boys what we found in his daughter’s room!”

Now Ian realized what the object was. Sir Matt handed it to Sir Aaron who also started laughing.

“Look at this! Your daughter is a little dirty bitch. Does she just have a vibrator lying around in her room? I would like to meet her. Where is she?"

The whole situation made Ian very uncomfortable. Thinking of Mai that way… it wasn't right. But he had to answer Sir Aaron.

“She’s going to college out of state. She only visits us once a month,” replied Ian.

"Too bad. But next time she visits, I want you to introduce her to me.”

“Of course Sir Aaron, it will be my pleasure.”

“I bet on it! And your daughter will be surprised when she is only used to this little vibrator. I’m a lot bigger in comparison,” said Sir Aaron, demonstratively reaching between his legs.

“I bet you faggit shove that thing in your ass every day, don’t you?” Sir Simon wanted to know.

“No Sir. I didn’t know my daughter had this… thing.”

“Well then, it’s about time,” said Sir Aaron, throwing the vibrator at Ian’s feet.

At first Ian hesitated. It was his daughter's vibrator after all! But Sir Aaron and the others made it abundantly clear that he was to use him right here, right there, in front of all of them. So Ian pulled down his pants and tried to insert the vibrator anally. But it wasn't that easy. Ian hadn't had anal sex or used a dildo in ages. And without any help, the vibrator simply didn't want to sink into his hole.

"How pathetic! What kind of fag are you?” one of the boys shouted.

“What’s your fucking problem?” Sir Aaron wanted to know.

“I’m sorry Sir… I think I just need some lube.”

“All right then,” said Sir Aaron.

But just as Ian was about to leave the room, he was called back by Sir Aaron.

“Where are you going Asslicker?”

"Well... I thought you gave me permission to go get my lube, Sir Aaron?" Ian asked, confused.

“Lube, yes. But I didn't say which one. If you come here, hold out your hands and ask us nicely, we might give you some," said Sir Aaron.

Ian didn't quite understand at first. But then he knelt in front of the couch and asked the four young masters for some lubricant. Sir Aaron was the first to turn up his nose, sending a large amount of spit out onto Ian's hands. Ian thanked him immediately before the next one of them gave him some spit. Ultimately, he held in his hands a mixture of the spit of these four young, superior men. It took a lot of effort for Ian not to simply drink the spit mixture. But he pulled himself together, sat back on the floor and rubbed the vibrator with the special “lube”. Now it was no longer a problem to sink the vibrator completely into his asshole. Ian moaned in delight while the young masters laughed for minutes at the sight. They ordered him to turn the vibration to the highest level. Ian writhed on the floor in excitement.

“So, do you like your daughter’s toy?”

“Yes… oh god…. Yes!” groaned Ian.

“You really are even more perverted than my father described you! Come here!” ordered Sir Aaron.

With difficulty Ian dragged himself to the couch.

“Boys, look at this tiny dick!”

The group laughed.

“Are you completely hard right now?” Sir Matt wanted to know.

Ian answered his question in the affirmative. After a few minutes of the group making fun of the small size of Ian's fag clit, Sir Aaron started repeatedly bumping it with his foot. Every it felt more intense and touches turned into kicks.

“Please Sir Aaron! This hurts!” Ian pleaded desperately.

But Sir Aaron and his friends showed no mercy. They seemed to enjoy kicking Ian. Before he knew it, he was on the floor while the four boys kicked him everywhere and stomped on him. Pig! Cocksucker! Asslicker! Faggit! Lowlife! Pervert! - those were just a few of the slurs they said to him. Ian could barely think straight. Excitement, pain and humiliation shot through him at once. Before he could warn anyone, he had an orgasm.

“Fuck! The fag just squirted!” Sir Matt bellowed.

"Dude! Look what you've done! You have soiled my shoes!” cried Sir Simon in horror.

“What are you doing, you dirty pig?!” Sir Aaron wanted to know.

Ian was immediately punished with violent kicks and punches to the face. The four young masters were visibly angry at Ian's "mishap". They ordered him to lick Sir Simon's soiled show clean. Ian immediately complied with the command and licked every drop of his own cum from the shoe. Sir Simon was still not entirely satisfied. Ian had to thoroughly clean the entire shoe with his tongue. Even the places where no sperm had landed - including the sole. Sir Aaron then ordered him to apologize properly.

“I'm so sorry, Sir. I didn’t want that!” Ian whimpered as tears rolled from his eyes.

“I hope so! Just wait until my father hears about it!” said Sir Aaron angrily.

"No! Please Sir Aaron I beg you. Please don't tell Sir Clint about this! I am so sorry! I'll do anything!" Ian pleaded in a panic.

“What do you guys think? Should I do him the favor?” Sir Aaron asked the group.

"No way, man! Don't do him the favor. The asslicker deserves it no other way!” replied Sir Simon. Clearly still upset about the accident with his shoe.

“Wait a minute guys, I have an idea! How about we keep his little mishap to ourselves - but under certain conditions..." Sir Aaron suggested.

The other three young masters seemed interested. Sir Aaron suggested that he would keep this hidden from his father if Ian paid them a fag tax too.

“So how does that sound asslicker?”

“Yes Sir, that’s a great idea. I already said I’ll do anything you want!”

“Then it’s settled. And to show that both sides are serious, the first payment is due immediately,” announced Sir Aaron.

“Immediately… Sir, I don’t have any cash in the house at the moment,” Ian admitted.

“No problem, then go ahead and get some. You can take this opportunity to bring us something to eat. We’re hungry, aren’t we boys?” said Sir Aaron.

His buddies agreed with him.

Ian's head was rattling. His own account was practically empty. He already had to go to Frank's account for the payment due to Sir Clint. Now he had to do it again. Ian stood up and wanted to remove the vibrator from his ass, which was still active and no longer had a stimulating effect, but only hurt. But the four young masters did not allow him. He had to keep the vibrator in - even when he goes outside to get the money and food. Ian pulled himself together with difficulty and put on his pants. While he was in the bedroom getting one of Frank's credit cards, he heard Sir Aaron and the others calling out to him to serve them some beer before he left. After fetching them more cans of beer from the kitchen, Sir Aaron handed him a list of the food order. Ian was shocked to find that he had to drive to 3 different fast food restaurants to do this. So this humiliating trip was going to take a lot longer than Ian had hoped. Before he drove off there was only one question left to clarify.

“How much should my fag tax be on you, Sir Aaron,” Ian asked, his voice shaking. He sincerely hoped the amount wasn't too high.

"Well... I'd say... 150 bucks?" Sir Aaron asked his friends.

“Yes, that sounds good,” Sir Tyler agreed.

Ian was almost relieved. For $150 he could make up any lie for Frank.

“Then it’s decided. 150 bucks PER PERSON.”

"You mean... I should pay each of you?" Ian asked in shock.

"Of course! After all, you have shamed all of us! And be glad that Simon is gracious enough not to ask for more money after what you did to his shoe!” said Sir Aaron angrily.

“I’m sorry Sir. So then $150 each.”

“You know what, asslicker? Because you just asked so impudently, I spontaneously decided to increase your fag tax to $200 per person,” said Sir Aaron.

Ian's heart was racing. How was he supposed to explain to Frank why he needed $800 today? But he didn't want to provoke the four masters any further.

"Thank You Sir!"

“Good, finally you’re showing some manners. Now get going, we don't have all day. And hurry up, beware the food gets here cold!”

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First Ian drove to the bank to get the money. He hurried as best he could. Not just because it was extremely humiliating when other people noticed the sound of the vibrator, but also because he didn't want to risk that the four bullies would still be there when Frank got home from work. The fast food stores were scattered all over the city and overall it took a lot longer than Ian would have wished. But when he arrived back home, theoretically there was still enough time until Frank's arrival. When he entered the apartment he was almost shocked. The living room was a mess. Empty beer cans lay scattered on the floor. Rubbish from the snack packaging as well. And the four masters had made themselves comfortable with their feet on the living room table.

“Sir Aaron, Sir Matt, Sir Tyler, Sir Simon, I’m back.”

"Finally! We’re already starving!”

Ian distributed the food and the fag tax among his four young bullies. He prayed that they were now satisfied. At first it seemed that way. But Sir Simon complained that his food was too cold.

“How am I supposed to eat this shit? Its already cold! Didn’t we tell you to hurry up?” he cursed.

“I’m sorry Sir Simon! I hurried as quickly as I could.”

“Come here!” ordered Sir Simon.

Ian knelt in front of him. He was afraid of getting kicked again. Instead, Sir Simon took a big bite of his burger, chewed for a moment and then spat it right in Ian's face. Ian jumped back in shock as the chewed food landed on the floor in front of him.

“Did that feel like hot food to you?” asked Sir Simon.

“No Sir, Simon. It does not...”

The others laughed loudly as Sir Simon took more bites, chewed them and spat them over and over again in Ian's face.

“You can eat the food yourself! I'm serious! Come on, eat it faggit!” Sir Simon ordered.

Ian leaned forward to eat the chewed sandwich from the ground. Tears flowed from his disgust. He already knew the feeling of being humiliated. Sir Clint humiliated him every time he visited. But this was something else. Ian knew Sir Clint since there were in school. But this young men were total strangers and half his age! Never before had Ian felt so low.

“What do you say?” Sir Aaron asked menacingly.

“Thank you Sir, Simon for the food!”

Another wave of loud laughter rippled through the room.

“Well, because you thanked us so well, we don’t want to be so resentful. You must be thirsty now, right? We have just the right soft drink for you. Don't we guys?" said Sir Aaron.

“Oh yes, I’ve already accumulated quite a bit,” confirmed Sir Matt, laughing.

So the four masters ordered Ian to wait here while they “mixed a drink” for him in the bathroom. Ian listened as powerful jets of piss hit the water in the toilet bowl one after the other. They returned a few minutes later and joked about how relieved they felt now that all the beer was out. Ian went into the bathroom and looked into the toilet which was now full of deep yellow liquid.

“Don’t be rude! We want you to drink the bowl out!” said Sir Aaron.

And so Ian got to work and greedily slurped down the four boys' bitter broth. He had to admit to himself that he actually didn't see this as a punishment, but as a reward. But it was a lot of liquid and at one point Ian had trouble continuing to drink because his stomach was already full.

“So you faggot, we have to get going now. But even if we leave now, I don't want you to get up from the bowl until you've slurped up the last golden drop, is that clear?! And if you pay your taxes and be good the next time we visit, we might even let you lick our assholes clean. But today you don't earned it. So see you next time!” said Sir Aaron and disappeared.

Of course Ian could have stopped now that he had heard the door to the apartment. But he WANTED to follow Sir Aaron's command. He was beginning to panic about what would happen if Frank came home now. He also had to clean the living room. So many thoughts going through his mind. How should he manage to keep tributing his fag tax to not one, but 5 men?!

TO BE CONTINUED