fag for STRAIGHT PRIDE

Sir Clint and Asslicker Ian, Part IV (Finale)

read part I I read part II I read part III

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Content Warning: ass to mouth / bullying / cheating / homophobia / objectification / verbal insults

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Ian was now living in a constant state of stress. Ever since he had visited his former high school bully, Clint, two and a half months ago, his life had spiraled out of control. Every week, he had to pay so called ‘fag tax’ to ‘Sir Clint’. And not just to him. Sir Clint’s son, Aaron, and three of his friends had also visited Ian and demanded the tax. Since Ian wasn't working due to his mental health issues, he had to steal the money from his husband, Frank. And with each passing week, it became more difficult to hide these sums or make up excuses for it. He knew his marriage to Frank was seriously at stake. But Sir Clint and the others couldn't care less. They insisted on their money. And they enjoyed humiliating Ian during their visits. Neither Sir Clint nor Sir Aaron nor the other three actually came by every week. But even when they didn't, Ian had to pay—send them the money digitally. The worst part was that he'd wanted to quit so many times. But every time he was offered the chance to lick one of his masters' assholes if he continued to pay his fag tax, he quickly agreed. He felt pathetic.

But his most humiliated moment had only just happened this morning, when he unexpectedly received three photos from Sir Aaron on his phone. They showed Ian and Frank's adopted daughter Mai, lounging naked on a bed. In one picture, she had a stiff cock in her mouth, and in the other two, you could see her being fucked by Sir Aaron. Sir Aaron had demanded that Ian introduce him to his adopted daughter the next time she came home from college to visit her fathers. Ian had hoped Mai wouldn't fall for Sir Aaron. But obviously, Sir Aaron's plan had worked perfectly.

But before Ian could fully process what he had just seen on the screen of his cellphone, the doorbell ripped him from his thoughts. He looked at the date. Today, Sir Clint's fag tax was due. And apparently, he wanted to collect it in person this week. Ian hurried to the apartment door as fast as he could. Sir Clint was standing there with a broad grin on his face. As usual, Ian took off his jacket and led him into the living room, where Sir Clint sat down on the couch.

"Haven't you forgotten something, faggit?" asked Sir Clint.

"But Sir, the envelope with the fag tax is on the table right in front of you," Ian replied confidently.

"That's not what I meant, faggot! Where's my beer?!" Clint asked demanding.

"OH, of course Sir, right away," said Ian and went to get the beer.

He had barely handed Sir Clint the bottle when he demanded the next thing:

"Come on, these shoes won't come off by themselves!"

"Yes, Sir!"

While Ian untied the shoelaces, Clint drank from the beer bottle and let out a loud belch.

"Can't you be faster? Why are you so slow today, asslicker? Oh, I know, the pictures my son sent you must have thrown you a bit," said Clint.

Ian looked up.

"You... you know about that, Sir?" Ian asked, shocked.

"That my son is fucking your adopted daughter? Of course! Do you think he kept it from me that he and his friends are also sucking your money reserves dry?" laughed Clint.

"Now get on with it, my feet finally want a massage!"

Then followed the typical routine that Ian knew all too well by now. While Clint relaxed and drank his beer, he was "allowed" to give him a foot massage. In between, Clint mocked him and gave him a few slaps in the face with his foot. Ian knew that as soon as Clint finished his beer, the real visit would begin, with all its cruelties. But today, as Clint put the empty bottle back on the table, he made an announcement.

"Listen, asslicker, I'm really feeling a lot of pressure in my bladder right now. I want you to be a good urinal for me. And since you've been so good and introduced your daughter to my son, I'll even allow you to lick my cock head clean afterward."

Ian couldn't believe what he'd just heard. His heart started racing.

"I... I can lick your..."

"Now, don't stutter, just open your mouth, urinal!"

"But... here in the living room..."

"Then just make an effort and make sure you don't spill anything. Now, open your mouth!" Clint commanded.

Ian tilted his head back and opened his mouth as wide as he could. Clint stood in front of him, unzipped his pants, and took out his fat, heavy cock. As a first warning, Ian received three golden drops before Clint unleashed a firm, hard stream. Ian tried as hard as he could to swallow, but his mouth was filled to the brim again in seconds. And finally, he choked, so that a full load from his mouth squirted down his chin and over his shirt onto his pants and finally onto the carpet. But Clint wasn't finished yet, and Ian swallowed the rest of his piss as if he were actually a real urinal. After the stream had subsided, Clint nodded to Ian. Ian hadn't been as excited as he was right now, not even on his wedding day. It was like a dream come true: He slowly stuck out his tongue and tentatively licked Clint's cock head. After he pulled his tongue back once and went for a second lick, Clint slapped him in the face. It was more the surprise than the violence that completely knocked Ian over.

"That's enough, faggot! Don't forget what your core competency is: ass licking!" Clint laughed.

While Ian slowly stood up again, Clint took off his pants and sat on his lower back, exposing his bare ass. Ian was glad that Clint was in such a good mood today and had given him his asshole to lick straight away, rather than having to complete a series of other humiliating and painful "tasks."

"So what is it, Asslicker Ian? Ready to do your job and lick my beautiful, sweaty asshole clean?" asked Clint.

"YES, SIR!"

Ian put his face close to Clint's hole and stuck his tongue out. But before he even touched it, he heard a loud, angry voice behind him.

"SO IT'S TRUE! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" said Ian's husband, Frank.

Startled, Ian turned to him. Frank was standing in the doorway. His face was bright red, as it always was when he was upset.

"You're Frank? Well, it's nice to finally meet you," said Clint calmly.

But that seemed to upset Frank even more.

"Shut up! How can you even look at yourself in the mirror in the morning after forcing a mentally disturbed man to relive his childhood trauma over and over again—and even blackmailing him while doing it!"

Clint started laughing.

"Forcing him? Blackmailing him? You're wrong. Your oh-so-beloved, so-called husband is doing all this voluntarily. Does he not?" Clint explained.

"Frank, please. Calm down. Let's talk for a second..." Ian begged.

But Frank didn't calm down. He continued to accuse Clint and even threatened him.

"Tell your faggot husband not to talk to me in such a disrespectful way, Ass Licker!" Clint demanded.

"Please, Frank. Calm down. We can surely work everything out with Sir Clint... please."

Frank looked at Ian in disbelief. 

"I just can't believe you're defending him after everything he made you do," Frank said.

Then he turned back to Clint.

"Does it turn you on so much when you make him do such nasty things? Did you enjoy forcing him to write a 'love letter' like that?!" Frank said angrily.

With that, he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slammed it down on the coffee table. Ian was paralyzed. He had completely forgotten about the 'love letter'. That Frank had found it was a disaster. Clint looked confused and grabbed the letter. As he began to read, his confused expression turned first into a grin and then into loud laughter.

"I can't believe it. You actually wrote my asshole a love letter? My god, I should stop calling you Asslicker Ian and start calling you Ass LOVER Ian!" Clint laughed.

"Can you finally tell that bastard to get out of our apartment?!" Frank demanded.

Ian was too stunned to utter a single word.

"Fair enough. I don't have much time today anyway. And I think you two lovebirds have a LOT to discuss," said Clint, standing up and putting his pants back on.

He grabbed the envelope containing Ian's ‘Fag Tax’ and started to leave the apartment. As he passed Frank, Clint stopped briefly and unexpectedly grabbed him by the neck with a sharp movement. Frank gasped as Clint pushed him against the wall.

"If we ever meet again, I expect some respect from you. Otherwise, I'll break a few of your bones. Got it, faggot?" Clint said threateningly.

Frank nodded.

After that, Clint let go of him and disappeared from the apartment. Ian stood up, went to Frank, and tried to hug him. But Frank pushed him away.

"Don't touch me," Frank said emotionlessly and walked toward the bedroom.

Ian, who could no longer hold back his tears, hurried after him. He saw Frank place an open suitcase on the bed and start throwing things into it.

"What are you doing, Frank?!"

"You can see: I'm packing. I have to move out for a while," Frank explained.

"PLEASE DON'T GO, FRANK!" Ian begged.

But Frank was undeterred. In no time, he had packed the suitcase and prepared to leave. Before he leave the apartment he opened the front door and turned to Ian.

"Listen, Ian. I'll give you a week. You have a week to decide whether our marriage still means anything to you," Frank said.

Before Ian could respond, Frank had left the apartment. Ian collapsed to the floor in despair.

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Frank stood in front of the mirror in the guest room of his sister's house. He straightened his tie and looked at his outfit in the mirror. He was wearing an expensive tuxedo that looked almost identical to the one he wore on his wedding day. At first, Frank doubted whether his reaction had been the right one. Leaving Ian on his own for a whole week, despite his fragile mental state. But he couldn't help it. He had to make it clear to Ian that things couldn't go on like this. Frank was just glad that their daughter Mai was away at college and therefore unaware of this whole tragedy. But apparently, everything was about to change for the better. When Frank contacted Ian exactly one week after the encounter with Clint, Ian said he wanted to see him as soon as possible. He had done a lot of thinking during the week and knew exactly how much their marriage meant to him. After they had set a date, Ian told Frank that he had prepared a romantic surprise. Frank should put on some fancy evening wear and come to their apartment. Frank was looking forward to a nice date with Ian. He was also very proud of his husband for apparently having managed to break away from that sadistic Clint all on his own this week. Frank applied some more perfume and then set off.

About 40 minutes later, he reached the apartment. When he walked through the door, he found rose petals on the floor and soft romantic music playing in the background. Before he could go any further into the apartment, he was greeted by Ian, who threw his arms around his neck and gave him a tight hug.

"Easy my boy! Wow, Ian, you've really dressed up. You look dazzling!" Frank said with a smile.

"Thank you. You look stunning too, Frank! And I'm so glad you came. After all, today is a very special day for me," Ian said contentedly.

Frank found something odd about Ian's choice of words.

"You mean a very special day for US, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I hope it's special for you too," Ian replied mysteriously.

Then he took Frank by the hand and led him into the living room. Frank suddenly felt ice cold. In the living room, which was also romantically decorated, sat none other than Clint – along with four other, much younger, men.

"You already know Sir Clint. May I introduce the other gentlemen? These are Sir Simon, Sir Tyler, Sir Matt, and of course, Sir Aaron, Sir Clint's son," Ian said cheerfully, as if it were the most normal situation in the world.

"Ian... what... what's going on?" Frank stammered.

"I'm sorry, this was supposed to be a surprise. You're the guest of honor at the wedding between me and... Sir Clint's asshole!"

Frank felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. His knees went weak and he had to lean against the wall. This had to be a bad dream... a nightmare!

"Sir Clint even allowed me to choose who would officiate the ceremony. And after everything we've been through together, I couldn't imagine a better person than you, Frank!" Ian said.

"You've completely lost your mind... Clint has completely driven you crazy..." Frank said, barely audibly.

"So what is it: yes or no?!" Clint interjected.

Frank's head was spinning. He wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like. He sat down on a wicker chair in the corner of the living room. He looked at Clint, shook his head vigorously, and said quietly to himself that everyone present was a psychopath.

"That's a no then. Well, let's stick to Plan B," Clint commented.

"All right, I'll jump in," Aaron said.

What followed was one of the most absurd scenes Frank had ever witnessed in his life: Clint pulled down his pants and exposed his bare ass. Ian knelt in front of him and instructed Aaron to read his "vows." Frank was too shaken to take in the details, but he recognized many of the sentences Ian had already written in his love letter to "Clint's Asshole."

"My love for you is the strongest feeling I've ever felt. You are the most important thing in the whole world to me. Before I found you again, I didn't even know what love really was. I swear I will love and adore you until the end of my days," said Ian, thus concluding his vow.

Clint and the four other young men laughed loudly and applauded.

"Well, then I'll ask the question of all questions: Do you, 'Asslicker Ian, want to marry Sir Clint's asshole, and love and honor it until death?" Aaron asked, feigning seriousness.

"YES! YES, I DO!" Ian agreed euphorically.

"Good. And Sir Clint's asshole? Would you also like to marry 'Asslicker Ian,' who is present here?"

Clint's reaction was to expel a long, wet fart from his fart box. Hearing the loud laughter of those present, Frank watched as Ian inhaled with relish.

"That's all there is to it. I hereby declare the marriage between 'Asslicker Ian' and 'Sir Clint's asshole' to be settled. Asslicker Ian, you may now kiss your wedded asshole!"

At that moment, Frank jumped up from his chair. He wanted to make one last attempt to bring his husband Ian to his senses.

"STOP! Ian, if you do this... if you kiss that sadist's asshole... then I'll walk out this door and never come back!" Frank cried desperately.

But there was barely any reaction on Ian's face. Without comment, he turned back to Clint's bare ass, pressed his lips to Clint's hole, and gave him a kiss more passionate than any kiss Frank and Ian had shared before. Now the tears streamed uncontrollably down Frank's cheeks. He knew he had lost Ian, the love of his life. And he had lost him, literally, to an asshole! Frank quickly strode to the apartment door. It was over. His life as he knew it was over. How would he explain this to Mai? And why on earth did he have a boner right now?

THE END