Trevor was in a bit of a daze. He felt the cum on his face, thick and hot as it dripped off of him. It was humiliating and it made his cheeks hot with shame. But at the same time, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

He knew, deep down, that he should have been feeling utter revulsion. It was one thing for him to surrender his principles for Chimera, who held his family ransom and was a criminal with proven means. It was another entirely for him to be doing something so depraved—and liking it—for a petty thief.

Strangest of all, though, was the absence of any guilt or remorse. Despite himself, Trevor didn’t feel the slightest hint of regret over what he’d done—over what he’d allowed a wannabe criminal to do to him.

A sharp slap across the side of his face wrenched Trevor out of his thoughts. Even had the robber slapped him full-strength, he normally wouldn’t have noticed it. Not this time.

Trevor’s head snapped to the side. His eyes widened. He felt as if all the strength had left his body. He stared wide-eyed at the glass case that the blow had turned his head toward, shocked at the stinging pain that flared across his cheek.

“Hey, bitch, let go of that fat clit,” said the robber. “I don’t want any of your filthy mess on my shoes.”

Trevor was mortified. He was hard—though that wasn’t much of a surprise—but more importantly: he was also stroking his cock. He hadn’t even noticed that he was still mewling like a cheap whore.

The worst part was that he didn’t want to stop. He still yanked his hand off his cock. Just because the robber had told him to do so.

It was a mind-fuck. Trevor was used to being the one in charge. He was usually the one giving orders. The strange compulsion he now felt to obey, to submit, to surrender, was completely new.

Humiliating was one word to describe it. He was so big and strong, a self-professed hero and crime-fighter. And yet here he was, practically groveling at a petty would-be thief’s feet.

And somehow, that was what made the whole thing so goddamned hot.

The robber grabbed Trevor’s hair. “Look at the ground, bitch,” he said, roughly forcing Trevor to lower his head.

It was unthinkable that Trevor would let himself be forced into such a position. He had the strength to fight back, without a doubt, but it felt distant and out of reach.

His cheeks burned as he felt the robber’s cock in his hair. The man was using his head like a rag, cleaning off the last dregs of cum and throat slime off his cock by wiping it on Trevor’s hair.

Trevor grunted when the robber yanked his head back, forcing him to look the criminal in the eye. Hot spit landed on his face as the robber said, “Maybe next time you’ll think twice about getting in the way of a robbery.”

The robber tapped the cashier on the shoulder. “Hey. You got a piece of paper somewhere?” he said.

“Yeah, man,” said the cashier. His nervousness from earlier had gone. He walked around behind the counter and grabbed a small square of paper, sliding it over with a pen to the robber.

The robber grabbed the pen and scrawled his number on the paper. “Send me a text as soon as you can, bitch,” he said. “I’ll be in touch if I ever want to use that throat of yours. Or maybe I’ll get a taste of that sweet muscle pussy.” He smirked.

“But right now, I’m sick of your stupid face, so get the fuck out of my sight,” said the robber, shoving Trevor aside before letting go of his head.

Trevor clutched the piece of paper in one hand and meekly scurried away to fetch his clothes. It was strange. He was twice the size of the robber. On a normal day he’d have been able to pick the guy up and snap him like a twig, but today he felt… helpless.

The robber clicked his tongue and snatched up Trevor’s shorts before Trevor could grab them. “I’ll be taking these as a souvenir,” he said.

Trevor blanched. He’d already forgotten his briefs at Chimera’s place. Now his shorts were being taken away. He knew he could have just grabbed them back. The robber wasn’t even paying attention to the gun on the counter. But instead of resisting, all he could do was say, “I-I can’t go out there naked from the waist down!”

The robber laughed. “You’ve got a sweater, don’t you? Tie it around your waist and hope to God it doesn’t fall down,” he said with a sneer.

Trevor’s heart hammered in his chest.

The robber rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine,” he said. “Oh, that could work. Hey, bro, can you get that for me?” he said, tapping the cashier on the shoulder to get his attention.

The cashier went and retrieved the item. He returned with a red g-string. A tiny one. “Here,” said the robber. “I’m not a monster. Use this instead.”

Trevor should have protested, but he felt no desire to. Instead, he had a strange sense of gratitude that the robber had changed his mind. “T-thank you,” he said as he pulled on the g-string.

It was so small that his erection spilled out the side. His balls barely even fit in the pouch. But it was better than nothing. With that and the sweater, Trevor was at least spared a little dignity—not that he had much of that left.

The robber grabbed the dildo off the floor and handed it over to Trevor. “It’s on the house,” he said. He glanced at the cashier for confirmation, and the cashier just grinned and nodded.

“C-could I get a bag?” said Trevor.

The cashier looked at the robber. The robber nodded. “Nah, man. Bags are for customers,” said the cashier with a derisive snort.

Trevor’s face heated up. He hung his head and made his way to the door. Neither of the two men paid him any attention from then, as if he were so insignificant he wasn’t even there.

“Sorry about the whole robbing thing,” said the robber as he leaned over the counter. “Things have been hard. But I don’t think being a criminal suits me, honestly. I think I might try to find another way.”

The cashier smiled. “I hope things get better for you soon,” he said.

The robber was about to say something, but the wail of police sirens outside changed the timbre of the conversation. The robber’s eyes went wide. “Man! You called the cops?”

The cashier shrugged. “Sorry, man! I didn’t know what to do when you came in, so I pressed the silent alarm!”

The robber clicked his tongue. “Well, okay. Don’t worry about it, bro.” He grabbed another piece of paper and wrote his number down. “Let’s grab coffee sometime, man. You’re cute. But I gotta go.”

The cashier grinned. “I’m down for coffee,” he said.

The robber winked and made to leave. He came upon Trevor at the door. “I thought I told you to get out of my sight, bitch?” he hissed.

Outside, the sirens sounded again.

“Just get the fuck out of my way,” the robber growled under his breath as he shoved Trevor aside to run out.

Trevor glanced over his shoulder. The cashier was looking at the piece of paper the robber had left behind and did a little fist-pump. It was cute, but the cashier’s demeanor changed instantly when he noticed Trevor was watching.

“The fuck you looking at, bitch?” said the cashier, voice a little more confident and assertive than before, even though the words didn’t come out of him as naturally as they had from the robber.

“S-sorry,” said Trevor as he made his way out of the door. He couldn’t help but smile. As humiliating as things had turned out to be, the interaction between the robber and the cashier at the end had been surprisingly positive.

He’d debased himself, sure, but he’d ended up stopping a crime and setting a would-be criminal on a different path. It was a win of sorts. And he hadn’t had to use a single martial arts technique for it—besides maybe some breathing exercises to help relax his throat.

It was eye-opening. Maybe fighting wasn’t the only way to be a hero. Maybe being a cock-hound didn’t mean he had to become a criminal. Maybe, instead of using his body as a weapon for beating criminals into submission, he could use it in a different way to fight crime.

Trevor was considering the possibilities when he noticed the cops were getting closer. That lit a fire under his ass.

He walked faster, not wanting to be anywhere near the store when they arrived. Thinking about the ramifications of what he’d just discovered would have to wait.

---

Trevor was lost in his thoughts when he rounded a corner into view of the dojo. He was far enough away that not even his children would recognize him, but he realized with a chill that he couldn’t very well walk through the front door.

Evidence of his indiscretions was all over him. The thought of cleaning up had crossed his mind and yet somehow it had felt wrong. So he’d been walking around with cum and spit on his face. Not to mention the huge black dildo he was carrying, so massive that his fingers could barely even close around its girth.

Trevor hastily looked around for a place to hide and spotted a darkened alley he was pretty sure was empty. He grabbed the sweater around his waist with his free hand and uses a special footwork technique that sped him across the street in the blink of an eye.

He’d always emphasized that martial arts were to be used only for noble, righteous purposes, but he’d compromised enough of his principles at this point that the twinge of guilt he felt at violating this one barely registered.

Trevor made it to the alley, but it ended up being more difficult than he anticipated. His inner turmoil had affected the flow of his internal energy. Until he reached a new equilibrium and became at peace with his new circumstances, he wouldn’t be able to use his martial arts to their fullest potential.

Were he at his peak, Trevor would have been able to sneak into the house without arousing his kids’ suspicion. None of his sons had reached the level where they could find him if he didn’t want them to.

With the state of his internal energy, however, he wasn’t so confident. There was every chance his movement techniques might fail at a crucial moment, which meant they weren’t an option.

Trevor knew how to disguise his presence, at least. The most basic techniques didn’t require the use of internal energy at all. If he did it well, his sons wouldn’t notice him unless they were specifically on the lookout for him.

The problem was the dildo. It was too conspicuous. No matter how hard he tried to hide his presence, he wouldn’t be able to escape detection as long as he was lugging around something so attention-grabbing.

Trevor needed to find a way to hide the dildo—to keep it out of view. He thought about it for a while before the answer hit him.

It was actually pretty simple. All he had to do was put the dildo where it belonged. And luckily, the robber had given him the perfect thing he could use to keep it in place while he moved around.

Trevor knew what he had to do. He untied the sweatshirt from his waist and slung it over his shoulder. Facing the mouth of the alleyway to make sure no one was looking, he bent over.

Tugging the string of the thong aside with one hand, he slowly worked the dildo inside him with the other. He groaned, inching his legs further apart as his hole stretched around the considerable girth of the dildo.

The noise he made echoed in the alley. It drew some looks from the people passing by, but no one did more than glance inside, and no one did so more than once.

Trevor’s calves trembled as he pushed the dildo inside him. His cock strained, dripping pre-cum down the side of his thigh where it was pinned by the thong.

The dildo felt so good. The fat vein rendered lovingly on the rubber shaft rubbed against his rim as it sank deeper and deeper inside him, slicked up by the thick load that Chimera had left him. It took the better part of a minute or so, but he eventually got the dildo inside him.

Once the dildo was set, kept in place by the string of the thong, he leaned against the wall, panting. He rubbed his cock and groaned as he did his best to regain his composure. It was a difficult task.

Trevor was so full he didn’t know if he could even walk with the rubber cock inside him. But he knew he had no other alternative. He just had to grit his teeth and bear it.

No matter what had happened, he didn’t want his sons to see him in the state he was in: pathetic and beaten. He wanted to keep up appearances for as long as he could.

Thanks to the dildo, Trevor ended up having to walk bow-legged out of the alley. The irony was that while it hid the dildo, it made it more obvious that he’d been fucked up the ass.

Somehow, he managed to make it to the dojo’s backdoor without incident. As he was standing there, he took a moment to make sure no one was moving around in the back, and to check where his sons might be.

Tristan and Leo were in bed, probably still recovering. Marcus was in his room, at his computer. Derek was in the dojo, teaching a class.

Trevor didn’t think he’d get a better chance and took the opportunity to sneak into the house. He was a few steps from his room when he realized Tristan had gotten out of bed.

“Dad?”

The sound of Tristan’s voice made Trevor’s blood run cold.

“Is that you? You okay?”

Trevor took a moment to calm his breathing. He stood up as straight as he could with the fat dildo buried inside him. “I—” He swallowed to clear his throat. “I’m fine. I just got back. Have a bit of a headache, though, so I’m just going to take a nap.”

Thankfully, Tristan didn’t push the matter. “Oh, sure. Rest well, dad,” he said.

“Thanks, Tristan,” said Trevor.

He entered the room and locked the door behind him. As soon as he was inside, he dropped the sweater and grabbed the base of the dildo.

He knew better than to think he was going to get any rest.

---

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Trevor stared at his feet as the site foreman screeched at him. The guy was a twenty-something that had, in all likelihood, gotten his cushy job because of nepotism.

Disdainful as the idea was, Trevor had no choice but to swallow his pride and work under the little upstart. Even if the guy was wilfully ignorant at the best of times, and outright dangerously stupid at the worst.

“How the fuck am I supposed to keep this place running if I can’t get a handle on the fucking meatheads when I need to?” said the site foreman as he walked around to crouch beside Trevor and poke a bony finger at Trevor’s temple.

“And you better not fucking lie to me because I’m so fucking pissed I’m willing to pull security camera footage to check,” the foreman hissed, voice full of venom.

Trevor’s cheeks turned scarlet. The only reason he was even at the construction site was because he’d wanted to try and get back into his normal routine.

He’d hoped that some manual labor would help him get his mind off things. He’d thought that he’d be able to blow off some steam by hauling heavy construction materials all around the place.

Unfortunately for Trevor, things hadn’t worked out the way he wanted. Instead of relief, all he got was more frustration. The mindless nature of the work, as well as being surrounded by a bunch of hot, sweaty, manly guys he never would have spared a second glance in the past, had only made him hornier.

He’d retreated to the toilets multiple times already, just to jerk off. Luckily, the effect that was keeping him from coming at all had faded away because he didn’t think he’d be able to get a handle on himself at all otherwise.

The post-nut clarity was fleeting. At best, he got a few minutes before his mind and body started acting up again. But it was better than nothing.

Hanging his head even lower, Trevor couldn’t bring himself to look the foreman in the eye. “I-I’ve been going to the bathroom, Sir,” he said.

“So what? You telling me you’ve got the shits?!” said the site manager. “Wear a fucking diaper for all I care, but get your fucking work done!”

Trevor turned red. It was bad enough that he felt like a teenager again with practically no control over his body’s urges, but the site manager’s lecture was one indignity too much on top of everything else.

He’d come to the job hoping that he’d be able to resume some form of regularity in his life. Instead, he’d discovered that there was no way he could function in polite society the way he was now.

“I-I’m done, Sir,” said Trevor. It had sounded stronger in his head, but things coming out less assertive than he was used to wasn’t much of a surprise anymore.

Trevor gulped. He normally wouldn’t have been the slightest bit fazed by such a confrontation, but now he felt nervous. “I-I’m not going to take this kind of abuse, Sir. I-I’m feeling sick enough as it is. I-I quit!”

“Over my dead fucking body, you’re quitting. You’re going to go back out there and you’re going to get the work done! Do you hear me?” said the site manager.

“I-I’m leaving,” said Trevor, his heart pounding in his chest. He got up from the chair and walked out of the office.

He didn’t think his body would let him. He was managing to compose himself but if not for his willpower, he’d have been shaking.

Trevor supposed it was just his fortune that he was more concerned about getting home to indulge his body’s cravings in relative privacy than following the orders of someone with clear authority over him.

---

Trevor was on all fours. The suction cup on the base of the dildo was stuck to his bedframe, which was shaking as he fucked himself against the fat rubber cock.

As he rocked back and forth on his hands and knees, Trevor mulled over the matter of making an income. Because normal work wasn’t an option, not when his body was sabotaging him at every turn.

He knew well enough that no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be able to hold down a trade job. An office job was right out. Remote work was a possibility, but he got so horny so fast that he was pretty sure he’d end up mostly unproductive, anyway.

A comment from Peter came to him, unbidden. The boy had told him that he’d look great on the cover of a magazine.

Traditional modeling was out of the question, as far as Trevor was concerned. He knew a little about the industry from Derek, and the fact he couldn’t control his erections pretty much disqualified him from taking that sort of work.

But that didn’t mean he had no options. Something along those same lines was possible. A kind of modeling that was more… adult in nature. An industry where massive erections and unstoppable libido were assets, not liabilities.

Trevor could scarcely believe he was considering it, but he had few options. And the idea was hot in its own way.

He was going to do porn. He had to. It was the only way that he could provide for his family. Peter’s payments were going to support them for a while, but not forever. This was the only path if he wanted to secure something long-term.

Trevor didn’t know where to start, but he knew he had the body for it. Maybe it was a bit vain to say, but he knew he’d make a killing by selling his body. He’d just never considered it out of principle—a principle he’d now betrayed like all the rest.

He’d always believed his body to be precious. A temple, of sorts. He tried his best to keep it healthy and clean, never seeing it as a commodity. Not anymore, though. He no longer had that luxury.

The bedframe creaked as Trevor fucked himself harder on it. Scenes from the sex store came to his mind. His cock swelled with excitement as he remembered what had happened afterward, how the robber had decided to turn over a new leaf.

It was a convenient excuse. A reason for him to start thinking of his body like the commodity that it had to become for him to support his family.

Trevor’s body was his most precious asset. It only made sense that he used it to make money. And if he managed to change a few minds along the way, then all the better.

---

It turned out that getting into porn was easier than Trevor anticipated. A little research had turned up a small studio that would suit his needs. And the “casting director”—Trevor was reasonably sure the title was a bunch of bullshit—took one look at him and hired him on the spot. He was on the set now, scarcely half an hour after his “interview,” ready to film his first scene.

This particular studio wasn’t known for having high production values. But that just suited Trevor’s needs. He didn’t think a bigger studio would let him stay anonymous. And he didn’t think having to do multiple shoots of a scene would suit him very well, either.

High-end amateur films were the name of the game for the studio Trevor was now part of. Instead of cutting and reshooting particular scenes multiple times, they just had the actors fuck two or three times. The editors then cobbled together the best clips.

It was perfect for Trevor’s newfound appetite.

Trevor’s scene partner was close enough to Derek’s age that it was a bit weird. At the same time, there was something exciting about committing some sort of taboo by sleeping with a guy his son’s age.

The guy looked like a pretty stereotypical footballer. He even came in with a backward baseball cap. He had a good body, and it was clear he took care of himself, but next to Trevor he looked positively tiny.

The shoot, like any other, was going to be livestreamed to an audience of the studio’s most hardcore fans. It made Trevor a bit nervous, but there was something thrilling about the idea of performing for a bunch of hungry strangers, too.

“So, what do you think? You ready?” said the man behind the camera.

“Oh yeah,” said the jock. He placed a hand on Trevor’s upper arm and squeezed. “I think this could be fun, bro.”

With that, the pre-scene interview was wrapped up. Trevor and his scene partner got up from the black leather couch at the side of the set and together made their way onto the main event.

There was no cringeworthy dialogue or contrived storyline involved in the film. As far as Trevor and his scene partner were concerned, all they had to do was fuck for the camera and look good while they were at it.

For someone like Trevor, who didn’t really have much experience in acting, getting straight to the point suited him just fine. The last thing he wanted was to screw up getting screwed on film.

---

“Shit, look at that,” said the jockboy.

Trevor moaned as he felt two fingers push against his hole. His trembling pucker seemed to suck the two digits in, much to the delight of his scene partner.

Thanks to the pre-shoot interview, Trevor was aware that the jockboy was usually a bottom. One of the studio’s most popular ones, at that. This was the guy’s first scene being a top, so there was a fair bit of buzz about it.

Trevor had imagined that when he was hired, the director would have him topping. He looked like the kind of guy that would usually be on top, after all. It came as a surprise when he was told that he would be the studio’s newest bottom boy instead.

When he’d asked why that was the case, the director, a guy in his late thirties who’d seemed shrewish and meek when the two of them first met, had smirked and said, “I don’t know… I guess you just looked like a bitch to me.”

The insult had stung. Trevor still felt the ache of it in the dregs that remained of his manly pride. On the other hand, and perhaps more prominently, being degraded in such a fashion had made his cock throb.

Trevor squirmed as the jockboy moved on to eating him out. The guy had a talented tongue, he had to admit. He was starting to understand why women loved to get tongue-fucked so much.

The moans came freely, his hole clenching and unclenching as the jock tongued his pucker. The younger man was also making the deliberate choice to be particularly sloppy and noisy for the camera.

The anonymity of it all let Trevor cut loose. The fact he was in front of a live audience didn’t do anything to diminish how fucking hot it all was.

He didn’t hold back one bit, moaning wantonly as the jockboy grabbed his legs and pushed them into the air. He loved the feeling of being folded in half, being exposed and vulnerable in a way that so far he’d only ever felt with Chimera.

A plaintive whine escaped Trevor when the jockboy pulled away from him, but a moan soon followed when he felt the hot splatter of spit on his hole. The jock rubbed the spit into him, making his legs tremble with anticipation.

He gasped, his back arching as the jockboy slid a finger in him. It went in easily and was quickly followed by a second. The third wasn’t long in coming and the stretch burned a bit, but he’d been practicing with a huge dildo, so it wasn’t much of a challenge.

Trevor groaned. The three fingers spread apart, stretching him even further. The feeling was amazing.

Finally, the moment had come. The jock climbed on top of him, folding him even further in half. His ass was exposed to the camera at the foot of the bed, perfectly positioned to catch the jock grinding his own considerable endowment up and down the cleft of Trevor’s ass.

“Fuck. I’ve never wanted to fuck an ass this badly before,” said the jockboy.

“Fuck yeah!” said Trevor almost breathlessly. “Breed my hole, bro.”

The jockboy wasted no time. He lined his cock up with Trevor and slammed his hips home. The way they were positioned had Trevor in a breeding press—probably the most undignified and humiliating pose for a guy as big as him.

Trevor loved it, though. He felt so helpless under his scene partner’s weight, even though he was considerably larger than the jock. He moaned, his toes curling as he was rammed full of cock over and over again.

The fucking went on for a few good minutes before the jockboy grunted, gave one final merciless thrust of his hips into Trevor’s, and unloaded. The way his ballsack pulled up against Trevor’s ass, his shaft pulsing and throbbing as it bred Trevor, was framed perfectly by the camera.

---

“You’ve created a monster,” said the director. “Topher’s always been disinterested in topping. I’ve never seen him fuck like a wild animal before. You might have awakened that guy’s inner dom top.”

The director laughed. “He’s already asked to be in another scene with you. I said I’m happy to put him in bed with you—he’ll just have to wait in line.”

Trevor blushed. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “I-I didn’t do anything, though,” he said.

The director snorted. “You didn’t have to,” he said. “You were the perfect bitch and Topher’s male instincts probably just took over from there.”

Again, Trevor didn’t quite know what to make of the comment, but the insults made him feel hot. He’d gotten fucked three times already—not because the shots were bad, but because the audience wanted more—and his cock was starting to get hard again.

“You’re gonna get railed by the rest of the bottoms that work for us, by the way,” said the director with a little smirk. “Gonna make it a series. ‘Breaking in the Big Boy,’ or something like that. It’s still being workshopped.”

“O-oh… That sounds like it could be fun…” said Trevor. His heart skipped a beat in his chest. There was just something so hot about the idea, him being bitched out to all the biggest bottoms in the porn studio.

Whatever else happened, those scenes would cement his status as pretty much the bottom of the pecking order in the studio. And for some reason, his cock throbbed at the idea.

“U-um… Could I get the pay for today?” he said.

The director laughed. “I was wondering if you’d ever man up and ask for it,” he said. “I honestly forgot.” He handed over a bundle of cash to Trevor.

It was significantly more than they’d agreed—to the tune of 4 grand extra. Trevor stared at it. “Isn’t this too much?” he said.

The director smirked. “It’s from tips. The crowd loved you. And don’t worry, I’ve already skimmed a little off the top for myself, for the crew, and a little extra, just as a bitch tax. You don’t mind, do you?”

Oddly enough, Trevor didn’t. Part of him liked it. A symbol of his being the studio’s bitch.

Either way, he couldn’t help but stare at the wad of cash with wonder. If he had doubts before that this was the way to go, he didn’t anymore. He’d just earned more in one day than he’d earned in a full month of doing odd jobs around the city.

He could support his family with this income. Hell, a couple more good shoots like this one and they’d finally be able to afford some luxuries for themselves.