With a straight face that disguised his disgust, Jimmy sat on the carpet licking his lips.

Red smirked down at the wimp and shifted in his favorite easy chair. “How’s my cum taste this morning, pansy?”

“Um, delicious, sir.”

“As usual?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Ah, yes, that’s my little faggoty pansy.” Red scratched his balls. “Now, hand me that newspaper over there — as we say in the lumber business: I gotta go drop off a few logs, and I can’t shit without reading the paper, you know.”

Jimmy stood and retrieved the copy of the Millville Daily Record from the foyer. The old man snatched the paper from his subordinate and ambled toward the bathroom whistling ‘Molly Malone.’

The taste of Red’s spooge was still strong, even after Jimmy had worked up all the saliva he could to try to wash it away, so the wimp headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. When he opened the door, he flinched when he encountered the gaunt woman who’d briefly poked her head through the entranceway a few weeks earlier.

The dirty-faced creature was busy at the stove, and when she saw Jimmy she also recoiled. “What … what are you doing in here? P-please, sir, you need to leave — my brother will kill me.”

“Your brother?” Jimmy searched the woman’s sad eyes. “Um, Red’s your brother? What’s your name? I’m Jimmy Dombrowski.”

“You need to go, please, I’m begging you, before my brother sees us talking.”

“S-sorry. I’ll go. Um, nice to meet you.”

The woman said nothing in return so Jimmy eased the door shut and skulked back to the living room. Something about the lady had scared the shit out of him; she was so pitiful, so downtrodden, so scared. It was like looking into a mirror.

As soon as Jimmy had regained his spot on the carpet near Red’s chair, the old man called from the bathroom: “Hey, pansy — get your pimply-faced, ugly little ass in here if you want to make some extra moolah for that beautiful wife of yours.”

With a sigh, Jimmy headed toward the sound of Red’s voice, wondering what demeaning new act the perverted mogul had cooked up this time. When he got to the bathroom he found Red bent over the sink, wiggling has fat ass back and forth.

“I just took a shit that would sink the Lusitania — there’s an extra two grand in it for ya if you lick me bunghole clean.”

Jimmy staggered backward. “I-I … s-sorry, sir, I can’t do that, sir.”

“Oh, well, that’s not good news, now is it? Is the wifey home? I think I’ll give ‘er a ring — she’ll be wanting to know that you’re turning down a chance to make a quick two thou.”

“S-sir, why are you doing this? W-why do you always want me to … to do all these nasty things?”

“Nasty?” Red arched an eyebrow. “I take offense to that, pansy. You ate my boogers — who’s the nasty one?”

“I-I don’t know, sir. I mean, I come here every Saturday and do whatever you want. Why … why do you have to keep humiliating me like this?”

Red’s eyes twinkled. “Because you need to learn who you are, you ugly little shit. I’m so disappointed in you. Here, you had been making so much progress, and now you start with all this blarney. Why am I so mean to you? Because you’re a pansy, and you deserve it. Now, what should I do here? Should I go ahead and wipe my own arse and call the missus — or are you gonna do your duty and lick me booty?”

“S-sir … I … p-please, I—”

“Ah, I get it. You still think you have dignity, when we both know you don’t. What did I tell you, pansy? Your problems come from when you run from your true self. Has your marriage been better since you’ve accepted who you are? Has it? Has Nicole ever been happier? Your mom was right, you know — if you don’t make your wife happy, you’re nothing but a miserable piece of shit.”

Jimmy’s jaw dropped. “Did … did Nicole tell you about my mom?”

“Nah, pansy, haven’t you figured it out by now?” He chortled. “Red knows about everything — including the time when you were nine when you walked in on your mom and that big, mean man in the bedroom. And they both laughed at you because you pissed your pants.”

Jimmy gasped. “How …? I-I’ve never told anyone about that — even Nicole.”

Red clapped one hand over his left eye. “I have the vision, you little shit, that’s all you need to know. Now … are you gonna lick my ass clean like a good little pansy, or do you want to go back to square one — with your life, your marriage, everything? Because your wife is NOT gonna be happy when she finds out you turned down five thousand dollars.”

“F-five thousand?”

“Yeah, I upped the ante, just for you — because you’re so special to me, Jimmy.” Red leaned over the sink and shook his ass again. “Come on, pansy. Use that little silver tongue of yours to soothe Red’s tired, ol’ bunghole.”

Hating himself from the depths of his soul, Jimmy knelt behind the lumber baron, closed his eyes and conjured up images of the previous World Series, when Oakland had defeated Los Angeles. As his tongue touched fetid flesh, Jimmy tried to think about home runs and stolen bases. It didn’t work — after just three licks, he gagged, bolted across the bathroom and puked in the toilet, which hadn’t been flushed. Being so close to Red’s feces made the little wimp retch even more violently.

Red threw his head back and cackled. “I guess we can go ahead and count that — although you’re gonna need a stronger stomach, pansy.” He unrolled a wad of Charmin, finished wiping his ass and stuck the shit-caked toilet paper to Jimmy’s forehead before strolling out of the bathroom whistling “If I Only Had a Heart” from “The Wizard of Oz.”

Jimmy stayed on his hands and knees sobbing for a good ten minutes before flushing the toilet. He washed the poop off his forehead and gargled five times with the Listerine Red kept on the shelf under the sink. Gritting his teeth, he stared into the mirror.

“Nicole’s going to be so happy. Nicole’s going to be so happy. Nicole’s going to be so happy. She might even let you lick her pussy. Don’t think about Red, dude — think about five thousand dollars. Five fucking thousand dollars. Plus, the other five hundred. Fifty-five hundred, fifty-five hundred, fifty-five hundred … Nicole’s going to be so happy. Nicole’s going to be so happy. Nicole’s going to be so happy …”

After working up the courage to exit the bathroom, Jimmy approached Red, who was kicked back in his chair reading the Daily Record’s financial section.

“Did you have a nice conversation with my sister, pansy?” the old man asked without lifting his eyes from the newspaper.

“I … uh, I …”

Red frowned. “Well, I hope it was worth it because you just licked my ass clean for nothing. You’re not getting a dime. I’m sorry to say, but I’m done with you, Jimmy. I was mistaken — you’re not the pansy I was looking for, after all. You can leave now, and don’t come back. The money train’s over.”

Icy panic shot through Jimmy’s arteries. “Sir, I … I’m sorry. I was thirsty and went to get some water—”

“And you talked to Shannon. You shouldn’t have done that. Now, LEAVE!”

Wondering how he was going to break the terrible news to Nicole, Jimmy took two steps toward the door before stopping in his tracks. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he turned around, sank to his knees and clasped his hands in front of him.

“Sir, please, I’m begging you, PLEASE let me keep serving you. I … I didn’t mean to talk to your sister, and I promise I’ll never talk to her again … um, sir. Please, sir, I’m begging you.”

Red tittered. “I like to see a little pansy on his knees. So, you really want to serve ol’ Red, do ya?”

“Please, sir, yes. I … I don’t want to go back to how things were. Please, sir?”

The old man rubbed his chin with one eye closed for a full minute before breaking his silence: “Tell you what: I’ll go ahead and give you the five grand for cleaning me bunghole, plus your usual five hundred — but you gotta give me a freebie.” He picked his nose for several seconds before his forefinger emerged from his nostril with a huge, slimy booger attached to it. Red wiggled the dirty digit. “Beg for it, pansy.”

“Uh, please can I eat your booger, sir? Please sir? I … I love the taste of your boogers, sir.”

Red flashed a smug, satisfied smile. “Sure, thing, pansy — it’s good to have ya back. Bon appétit!”

Jimmy sucked Red’s finger clean and managed to croak, “T-thank you, sir.”

“No problem, pansy. Now, grab that coffee can off the shelf there and bring it to ol’ Red, would ya?”

Fighting the urge to puke a second time, Jimmy complied and watched Red peel the plastic top off the Maxwell House can, revealing what appeared to be tens of thousands of dollars in cash. Red counted out fifty-five hundred bucks and tossed the money on the carpet.

“Before you pick that up, look me in the eye and tell me you’re a little pansy bitch with absolutely no self-respect whatsoever.”

“Um, sir, I’m … I’m a little pansy bitch with no self-respect, sir.”

“Are you a booger-eater?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you lick shit out of people’s assholes if the price is right, pansy?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Did you let Mike take over your marriage? Does he fuck your wife anytime he wants to, while you feel lucky that he lets you lick her pussy and clean his cock when he’s done? Do you get turned on by it?”

Jimmy bowed his head. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

“Are you a little toady who does whatever his wife and her boyfriend tell you to do?”

“Um, yes, sir.”

“Does it make that tiny little dick hard when you think about being their slave?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do they treat you like shit? Like you’re their inferior?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And yet, you say you don’t want to go back to how things were.” Red chuckled. “So, tell me — what does that make you?”

Jimmy knew what the old coot wanted to hear: “I-I’m a pansy, sir. I was born a pansy, and it’s my job to be everybody’s little bitch, sir.”

“Hot dog! It’s soooo nice to have you back, pansy.” Red nodded toward the door. “You can go now. Not a word about Shannon to anyone — you hear?”

“No, sir, I won’t say anything, sir.”

“You better not, you ugly little piece of donkey shit. I’ll know if you say anything — and if you do, I swear before St. Patrick’s testicles and Molly McGuire’s diseased pubic hairs, I’ll not only cut off your money supply, I’ll pay a hitman to have your skinny little ass snuffed out. You hear me, pansy?”

“Um, y-yes, sir, I promise, I won’t say a word, sir.”

“You better not. Bye, now. Toodeloo!”

Jimmy stumbled out of the crazy man’s mansion toward his Gremlin, trembling from head to toe. On the drive home, he couldn’t bring himself to look in the rearview mirror, because he knew if he got a glimpse into his tortured soul he’d break down sobbing and possibly wreck the car. Instead, Jimmy focused on how happy Nicole was going to be when he brought home more than ten times the amount of cash she was expecting — but then, as always, he realized he’d have to explain why he’d earned the extra dough.

“What difference does it make? It’s not like she has any respect for you anyway. Dude, she watched you cum without touching yourself while Red was fucking you in the ass — anything you tell her isn’t going to make her think any less of you than she already does. Now, try to focus on the positives: Things have never been better between you and Nicole. You might even get a chance to lick her pussy soon. You’ve never had such a fulfilling sex life, have you? Of course not. You get to lick her three, four times a week, sometimes more. Think about that, man — forget about Red and his crazy shit. Put it behind you.”

Jimmy’s thoughts then drifted to the sad woman in the kitchen.

“Red said her name was Shannon. What is it about her that makes you feel so fucking icy inside? And why is Red so weird about her? It’s like he doesn’t want his sister to even exist. Dude, just stop, okay? Stop thinking about that lady — Red obviously doesn’t want you having anything to do with her, so you’d best put her out of your mind if you don’t want to fuck up this gravy train. Concentrate on the positive. You’ve already made more than thirteen thousand dollars in a little more than a month. You’ve got more than enough for a nice downpayment on a house now.”

As hard as he tried, Jimmy couldn’t confine his thoughts to positive things.

“How the fuck did that asshole know about the time I peed my pants? Only three people in the world knew that — my mom, her boyfriend, James, who died a year later, and me. Maybe Red really is the devil. Who would’ve thought that Satan would turn out to be some fat, gay, Irish factory owner with no manners and a freckle on the end of his dick?

When Jimmy pulled onto Marlene’s street, he saw Mike’s Corvette in her driveway, as usual. With his excitement mounting, Jimmy parked and hurried into the house — and was greeted by the sight of his wife and her lover necking on the couch with their clothing half-removed.

The amorous couple untangled when Jimmy walked into the room, his little boner stirring in his pants.

“Everything go okay at Red’s?” Nicole pushed a strand of hair from her eyes.

“Um, yeah. I, um, got a bonus” Jimmy mumbled.  “Uh, f-five grand.”

“Oh, my gawd, five GRAND!?” Nicole pumped her fist. “Fuck, yes! Fantastic job, Jimmy! You’re really raking it in!”

Mike smirked. “Uh-oh, Pee-Wee — what did the old pervert have you do this time?”

“He, um, he …” Jimmy shuffled his feet and jammed his hands in his hip pockets. “He had me … lick his butt clean after he … um, crapped.”

“Ewwwwwww!” Nicole and Mike screeched simultaneously. They glanced at each other with disgusted but amused expressions, then turned their attention back to their wimpy servant.

“I hope you used mouthwash.” Nicole curled her lip.

“I … I did. A bunch of times. With Listerine.”

Wordlessly, Nicole held out her hand, palm facing upward. Jimmy knew what his wife wanted so he dug in his pocket and produced the money he’d earned. The smirky wife took the bills from her hubby and counted them with a glint in her eye.

Mike grinned. “Nice job, Pee-Wee. Red’s giving you all these bonuses — sounds like you’re really keeping him happy.”

“T-thanks. He, uh, seems to be pretty happy.” Jimmy purposely didn’t say anything about the flap over Red’s sister — and he didn’t plan on mentioning Red’s sister at all, because he knew the clairvoyant bastard would know if he did.

“You’re really doing great, Jimmy,” Nicole said.

“T-thanks.”

Mike pointed. “Aw, look, babe — the little guy’s got another boner.”

Nicole sighed. “Well, I’m sorry, Jimmy — Ma want shopping with Dottie, so we were gonna have you join us downstairs. But not now.”

Jimmy’s heart sank. “B-but … w-why?”

“Are you kidding?” Nicole sniffed. “You just licked Red’s ass after he took a shit — no offense, but I don’t want that tongue anywhere near me. Not for a couple of days, anyway.”

Mike chuckled. “Sorry, Pee-Wee, but I agree with Nikki. You can do your little cleanup thing in a few days after the germs are all gone. Why don’t you go ahead and wash the Vette while me and Nicole take care of business downstairs? M’kay?”

Jimmy gulped. “Um, y-yeah, okay. Sorry.”

“That’s all right, you did good,” Nicole said. “I don’t mean to be a bitch, but that’s just nasty. You know?”

“S-sure, Nicole, I understand. I’m sorry.” Jimmy bit his lip, trying to hide how crestfallen he was that he wouldn’t be allowed to participate in their romp.

Mike stroked Nicole’s hair. “When you’re done washing the car, go ahead and get to the bar early — they’re delivering Hamm’s and Black Label today, so you can get those cases to the basement early before the Saturday night rush.”

“Um, okay,” Jimmy murmured.

“Have fun, Pee-Wee!” Nicole giggled as her downtrodden hubby plodded from the room.