Tristan was sprawled out on top of the stage, face down and ass up, nearly every square inch of exposed skin drenched in cum. He should have been disgusted with himself, but the only thing he could feel was a deep and profound sense of satisfaction.

His irises were glowing purple from VNM exposure. The only reason he knew that was because someone had taken a picture while he had a big fat cock buried halfway down his throat and shown him just how much he looked like a cock-hungry whore he looked like.

Tristan vaguely remembered that he wasn’t supposed to like VNM as much as he did, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to dislike it. It felt so good to breathe it in. It gave him the best sex he’d ever had.

He’d always been brought up to believe that drugs were bad, but now that he thought about it, there were good drugs too, weren’t there? Drugs that treated diseases existed and no one ever complained about those.

In Tristan’s mind, VNM was one of those drugs. It was life-saving. Life-affirming. Without VNM, he would have never been cured of his heterosexuality or the delusion that he was ever meant to be anything besides a cum-rag for superior men.

He licked his lips. The taste of cum was still vivid on his tongue. A loud wet fart ripped out of him as thick splooge leaked and sputtered from his hole, dripping onto the stage underneath him.

The wood of the raised platform was slick with sweat and various bodily fluids. The odor was pungent but in an intoxicating way. The air was thick of it, the smell of sweat, sex, cum, and male musk. There were also the faint acrid undertones of piss mixed in.

Tristan squirmed on top of the mess. It was all somehow slimy, sticky, and slippery all at the same time. He didn’t know why it felt so good on his skin, but it did. He was literally rolling around in filth and enjoying how it felt.

A tiny voice in the back of his head told him it was disgusting and wrong. All he could think was that it couldn’t possibly be either of those things. He was covered in the stuff and yet he’d never been harder. His stiff cock stood ramrod straight from between his legs.

As he was moving around, Tristan’s hand ended up landing in a puddle. It felt like cum, but for all he knew, there was some other nasty shit mixed in with it.

Tristan flipped over onto his back. There was a lewd squelch as his lower back squidged all the messy, wet stuff out from under him.

His whole body flushed as he cupped his hand around the puddle. His legs tensed. A drop of pre-cum dribbled from the tip of his stiff cock as he scooped the sticky, viscous, disgusting stuff from the puddle and dripped it all over his chest.

Tristan didn’t know why he did it, only that he felt almost compelled to. The voice in the back of his head complained that he was being revolting, but the slick, slimy, repulsive stuff felt so fucking good on his skin. He couldn’t help but moan as he spread it all over his torso.

Strength slowly returned to him, his healing factor restoring his stamina now that he had a moment to breathe from the brutal gangbanging that he’d received not too long ago. His cock stuck straight up into the air as he thrust his hips toward the ceiling, fucking the thick VNM haze and the filthy slime that coated his cock.

Fuck, Tristan couldn’t help but think as he looked down his glistening torso and watched his hard cock hump against the air. This was sad. This was pathetic. He was supposed to be a hero, and he’d let himself be reduced to this.

It was humiliating and disgraceful and yet that somehow made it all the hotter. He didn’t understand, but he supposed he didn’t need to. It felt good and if being a pathetic degenerate was what he needed to be for this kind of pleasure, there was no depth he wasn’t willing to sink to for it.

Tristan ran his hand down the front of his body, massaging the filth into his skin. This was him. This was his life now. Nothing but garbage. A fucktoy. A cock-socket. A dumb, worthless loser who wasn’t good for anything but a quick pump and dump.

A long, low moan spilled from Tristan’s lips as he felt the slick goo absorb into his skin. It made his whole body tingle, almost as if it were transforming him, turning him into the most perfect disposable subhuman cumrag that he was always meant to be.

Tristan’s cock pulsed and leaked with every vicious invective and insulting epithet that he assigned to himself. All it did was add to the mess, making the squelching worse when he wrapped his fingers around his shaft to jerk off with the disgusting ooze from the stage.

Some hero Tristan had turned out to be. He must have just been pretending this whole time, deluding himself into thinking that he was more than what he was. If he really was a hero, then he wouldn’t have been hard. His cock wouldn’t have jumped the moment he started jerking off with filth for lube.

Tristan’s free hand drifted to his chest. He tweaked his nipple, the shock of electric pleasure it sent down his spine enough to lift his lower back off the stage with a disgustingly wet sucking sound.

He moaned wantonly, rolling his hips and grinding his cock into the loose circle of his fingers. He was fucking his own hand, and he didn’t even feel a shred of shame. His cock was so fucking hard.

The voice in the back of Tristan’s head couldn’t believe that he was doing this. Not only that, but that he was enjoying it, too. He felt like a pig rolling around in its sty and instead of being insulted, it just made him harder.

Tristan’s thoughts wandered back to what Owynn did to him. More accurately, to what he had allowed Owynn to do to him. Because there was no use denying it at this point. He could have made it stop. He could have ended things if he wanted to. He let himself get fucked into a dumpster and that meant only one thing: some part of him must have wanted it.

He looked at his cock. Fuck. He was so hard. He’d never really looked at it closely, but it looked so fucking good with a thick layer of fuck-filth clinging to it.

Tristan rubbed his thumb in slow circles around his cock head. He gasped, his stomach tensing and his dick throbbing in his grip. He was so fucking sensitive. It was unbelievable. It was almost too much and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

His hand flew up and down along his shaft as he tweaked and pinched his nipple, rolling it back and forth between his thumb and index finger. He dug his heels into the stage, pushing his hips into the air as a low moan spilled from his lips.

All the movement had agitated the filth clinging to Tristan’s dick into a messy, gloopy froth. It was disgusting, but he loved how it felt. It made his cock so greasy, made every stroke of his hand so smooth and slippery.

Tristan’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head as he scooped up some of the vile, frothy concoction with his thumb. Moving his hand up his straining shaft, he rubbed the stuff into his piss slit, mixing it into the pre-cum leaking out of his dick like a faucet.

Suddenly, there were fingers on his wrist. His legs kicked out. He jerked in surprise. He looked up, wide-eyed, and saw Marcus standing over him.

Right, Tristan thought to himself. He’d been so engrossed with the mess and his fall into such utter perversion that he’d entirely forgotten Marcus had been there the whole time, getting fucked alongside him.

Tristan’s cock twitched. He wasn’t the only one taking dick after dick during the gangbang. Marcus had been there, too, and the look of absolute fucked-out bliss on Marcus’ face was seared into his brain.

Marcus’ expression while getting railed was something Tristan would never forget. The mere memory of it was enough to send a ripple of arousal through him. Marcus had looked so good impaled on the end of a fat, greasy hog and Tristan could only hope that he had looked half as disgustingly depraved when he had a thick cock inside him.

Tristan knew it was perverse and wrong of him to think about his own brother like this. The voice in the back of his head told him as much. They weren’t related by blood, but still. They were family. It was wrong. It went against everything he knew—everything he’d been brought up on—and yet, he couldn’t help himself.

No one could blame Tristan, anyway. That was what he told himself. Marcus was filthy hot. Marcus was a model slut that a pathetic subhuman fuckhole like Tristan could only ever hope to look up to. And as far as Tristan was concerned, Marcus needed to have more trains run on him because he looked so good while getting serially railed.

Marcus seemed to catch on to what Tristan was thinking. There was a wicked gleam in his eye as his face split in a grin. He grabbed Tristan’s wrist in a viselike grip and yanked it off of his cock.

With Tristan’s hand out of the way, Marcus straddled him. Marcus’ knees went on either side of Tristan’s hips as he reached behind him to adjust Tristan’s stiff cock so it would rest in the cleft of his fat, round ass.

Just as Tristan had suspected when he saw the unnaturally angular imprint in the pouch of Marcus’ jockstrap, it turned out that Marcus had been wearing a metal cock cage underneath. It was of custom make and right now, it was resting on Tristan’s belly, just under his navel.

The metal of the cage wasn’t cold at all, unlike what Tristan expected. Maybe Marcus’ body temperature could have warmed it, but no, the metal was almost hot. It even made Tristan’s skin tingle.

“Did you have a good time, li’l bro?” said Marcus. “I certainly did. I fucking love cock, man. Don’t you? Getting fucked is the best. Especially on VNM.”

Tristan nodded vigorously, his cock burping out a glob of pre-cum that clung to the side of Marcus’ ass cheek. “There’s nothing like it, bro. I want more!”

Marcus grinned. “That’s the spirit, li’l bro! We Chan men don’t do anything by halves! Of course we gotta have more cock!” he said, lolling his tongue out of his mouth to drip a thick wad of spit right onto Tristan’s stomach. Giggling to himself, Marcus added, “And bro! I’m so fucking proud of you! You took that train like a champ!”

Tristan’s cock throbbed at the praise. His own brother wasn’t supposed to have this sort of effect on him, but hearing those words just felt so good and so fulfilling that he couldn’t help himself. To make matters worse, Marcus was bucking his hips, forcing Tristan’s cock to slide up and down along his crack.

Fuck, Tristan thought to himself. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to last if Marcus kept going like this. It was a miracle enough that he hadn’t already lost his load.

Beaming down at Tristan, Marcus said, “We really should do this more often, bro. It’s a bonding experience. It’s so fucking hot!” Marcus chewed on his lower lip and moaned. “I’m sure the boss won’t mind doing a ‘bring your sibling to work’ day now and then—especially if it means he can charge extra!”

Tristan’s cock throbbed. “I-I think that’s a pretty fucking hot idea, bro!” he said, nodding and grinning like an idiot while the voice in the back of his head was mortified he’d even consider the thought.

Fuck. He really shouldn’t have wanted more of this. He was supposed to be straight. But maybe he’d just convinced himself he was. Maybe he just didn’t know better until he finally got a cock in his ass. Either way, he was so grateful for VNM and the role that it played in turning him into the deliriously horny cock-socket he was always meant to be.

Marcus chuckled. “Could you imagine Derek taking a fat cock up that dumptruck of his?” he said, his voice lecherous in the extreme as he leaned down to stroke the side of Tristan’s face. “Gods. You’re gonna make for such a good cock slut, li’l bro.”

Tristan’s cock ached. He was so fucking horny for Marcus, for his family, and just… cock in general. “You really think so, bro?” he said, practically panting.

“Oh yeah, bro,” said Marcus with a grin. “But it’s just about time for you to get going. I’ve got a private client next and as much fun as it would be to bring you along, that’s not in the cards. Not for right now, anyway.”

Marcus licked his lips. He lowered his face to Tristan’s until there was barely an inch between them. “I just need to see you off, don’t I, li’l bro? I doubt you’ll make it far the way you are right now.”

Tristan shook his head and laughed. He’d regained some of his strength, but he didn’t have Marcus’ healing factor, and subsequently, none of Marcus’ staying power. It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that the gangbang had fucked all the strength out of his limbs.

Marcus giggled. “Luckily, you’re with me,” he said. He moved his hand up from the side of Tristan’s face to thread his fingers through Tristan’s locks. Then he leaned in and kissed Tristan.

This wasn’t the quick, platonic sort of kiss between brothers. This was a fully sloppy, perverse kind of kiss. Tristan wasn’t expecting it, his eyes going wide in surprise as soon as Marcus’ lips pressed against his. Part of him recoiled, but slowly, the tension faded away, replaced by pleasure.

It didn’t take long before Tristan was kissing Marcus back. He wrapped a hand around the nape of Marcus’ neck, thrusting his tongue into his brother’s mouth as a low moan rumbled through him.

Fuck. The voice in the back of Tristan’s head protested that this was wrong, immoral, and revolting but it was easily the best kiss Tristan had ever had. It was sweet, passionate, and even indulgent all at once. Sure, it was taboo, but that was what made it so fucking hot.

Tristan couldn’t help but think of what Trevor would have said if he saw this. Rationally, Tristan knew that their dad would have been disgusted, but he much preferred to fantasize about how their dad’s pants would get tight as an erection snaked down the side of his leg.

The fantasy was short-lived as energy started to flow into him from Marcus’ body. The Qi wasn’t following any of the traditional pathways, though. It almost seemed as if it were pulsing out of Marcus’ asshole, with Tristan’s cock acting as an antenna or receiver, drawing it into him.

The energy was so pure it didn’t just restore Tristan to the peak of his strength, it pushed him just a little bit beyond. Tristan didn’t just feel refreshed, he felt strong. Invincible.

Tristan’s eyes widened at the realization. Marcus had broken through to the next level of his cultivation. There was no other explanation for why this infusion of energy was so unlike any other time Marcus had given him a top-up.

The funny thing was, even though he felt like he could conquer the world, there was only one thing on Tristan’s mind: more cock. The energy Marcus was feeding him was pure because it consisted of only one thing: desire. Incredible, overwhelming, and desperate sexual desire.

Tristan’s eyelids fluttered as a fresh wave of arousal slammed into him. He moaned into the kiss, writhing under his brother’s weight as more energy and lust than he thought he could possibly handle flooded into his system.

Slowly, Marcus pulled back. Tristan followed, sitting up little by little so as not to break the kiss. One hand still around Marcus’ nape, he wrapped his other arm around Marcus’ waist.

They stayed there for a few minutes, making out and grinding against each other. Tristan even felt the tip of his cock flirting with Marcus’ hole a few times.

Tristan was sorely tempted to thrust his hips up. It wouldn’t take much. Marcus’ hole was sloppy, puffy, fucked-out and leaking with cum. If he did it, he would slide right in, and he didn’t even think Marcus would mind.

After all the teasing Marcus had been doing, it would have only been Tristan’s right to hold his brother in place and fuck him silly. Tristan wasn’t even sure what, exactly, was stopping him.

Tristan thought about it and then chuckled into the kiss. Marcus pulled away and cocked an eyebrow. “Care to share, li’l bro?” he said.

Tristan just laughed. “I was just thinking about how badly I want to just push my hips up and fuck you, bro,” he said. “I didn’t know why I wasn’t just doing it. Then I realized I was being considerate ‘cos I knew you needed to get going before too long.”

Marcus chuckled. He leaned his forehead against Tristan’s and cupped the side of Tristan’s face. “That’s so sweet, bro,” he said, his gaze smoldering. “But don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time for that in the future. We should have done this a long time ago. Everyone in our family is so fucking hot.”

Tristan thought about Trevor. About Derek. He licked his lips. Even Leo, that delicious little twink. Marcus was right. All the men in their family were filthy hot and as perverse and wrong as it was, he wanted to have a roll in the hay with all of them. “Fuck, bro, you’re right.”

Marcus grinned. “Now, as much as I wanna keep you, I really gotta go,” he said, lowering his hand from Tristan’s face to gently push away the arm wrapped around his waist. He quickly extricated himself from Tristan’s grasp and dismounted the stage.

---

Before Marcus left, he gave Tristan a wink and told him the way out of the club. For a moment after his brother’s departure, Tristan just sat there on the stage, his cock throbbing almost painfully.

He realized that his hand was in another puddle of spit, sweat, and cum. Heart pounding in his chest, he raised his hand. His fingers glistened in the dim light.

An urge took him, then. Despite his better judgment, he raised his fingers to his lips. He extended his tongue tentatively, touching only the tip to the mess clinging to his fingers.

Tristan’s eyes widened. The foul taste set all his senses alight. He moaned to himself, one hand pumping up and down on his shaft as he licked the other one clean.

He was losing himself in the depravity of it all, and the truth was that he was finding it difficult to care. After another minute or so, he finally found the willpower to get up from where he was sitting. As he looked around, he vaguely remembered that he’d come to the club to do… something.

Tristan licked his lips. He thought that maybe he’d come to get dicked down, but that didn’t feel quite right. Either way, he didn’t really have any complaints about what had transpired. He could still feel the phantom sensations of it all, of cock after cock plundering his hole.

He made it all the way to the door before he had to stop. He leaned against the doorframe, slipping his fingers down between his ass cheeks. He didn’t even hesitate as he plunged them into his hole, his entrance soft and yielding from all the use and abuse that the men had put it through.

Tristan mewled as he finger-fucked himself, marveling at how soft and velvety his hole felt. The who’d fucked him had made sure to break him in thoroughly, and admitting to that fact made his cock throb.

He stayed there for a few minutes, just playing with his hole and riding his fingers. He didn’t even bother to suppress his moaning. A couple of people walked by while he was at it. They all looked at him with a knowing smirk.

Tristan saw the amusement and the disdain in the eyes of the passersby. He vaguely felt like he should have been insulted, but he could hardly blame them. They didn’t know he was supposed to be a hero. As far as they were concerned, he was just another filthy pervert at the club.

In the back of his mind, Tristan knew that there was something he was missing, but his hole felt so fucking empty he just had to play with it a bit. He wanted more cock. He needed more cock. The weird thing was that he felt like he wasn’t going to be able to get any more cock if he stayed around.

Tristan indulged himself for a few minutes longer before pushing himself the rest of the way out of the room. He wracked his head for any idea of what mission he’d come to the club to accomplish, but he only vaguely remembered that he was meant to be investigating something.

In the meantime, Tristan followed the instructions Marcus had given him for how to get out of the club. The further he got, the clearer his mind became. The arousal was still there, bordering on overwhelming and near impossible to ignore, but he could at least think about something other than cock.

He was just about to leave when it hit him like a sack of bricks. He’d come to the club to get some more intel about the VNM distribution network. He was the only one that had come to the club, but Daniel and Ravi had both gone to other locations to save time and effort.

Tristan’s heart sank. If there had been a trap waiting for him at the club, then the likelihood that the whole thing had been a setup was high.

He shivered. He needed to get out of here. He needed to make sure Daniel and Ravi were alright.

---

Daniel was jolted out of his unconscious stupor by a rather violent jostling. His mind was hazy, as if his skull had been stuffed with wads of cotton.

The dull, throbbing ache in the back of his head suggested that he’d been knocked out, though he couldn’t, for the life of him, remember when. He barely even remembered what he’d been doing last.

Daniel opened his eyes to pitch-black darkness. He was on the brink of panicking and he might well have freaked out, but he thankfully had the discipline to swallow the immediate anxiety. It wouldn’t serve him to be reactive.

Taking a deep breath, Daniel took stock of his situation. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a car. The back seat, if he had to guess, given that there was a considerable amount of space around him. He didn’t think it was a van since he was sitting facing the direction of motion, and it couldn’t have been an SUV since he could almost feel the ceiling at the top of his head.

Daniel could feel coarse fabric around his shoulders, which meant the reason he couldn’t see anything was because there was a sack over his head. His hands were cuffed behind his back—proper cuffs, he could tell—while his ankles were tied together with rope. He tested the rope, but it held firm.

His jaw was sore, but that was easy enough to explain: ball gag. He tried to spit it out or dislodge it with his tongue, but to no avail. The gag was buckled tight.

There was one more thing: Daniel was naked. It wasn’t as big of a deal as the other things, but it still made him more uncomfortable than anything else. He could deal with the restraints, but not with being exposed in this way.

Daniel knew he could probably get out of the handcuffs if he wanted to, but he stopped to think about whether it would be wise. He was alone in the back seat, at least as far as he could tell, but clearly, whoever kidnapped him wasn’t afraid of messing with a cop.

If he had to guess, they’d stripped him down to make sure that he wasn’t wearing a bug. He didn’t want to consider any other possibilities, though they lingered in the back of his mind since VNM was involved.

Daniel figured he might as well play along for now. It wasn’t like he could do anything while en route. He had to wait for the perfect opportunity. There was every chance he picked up on an important piece of information or two.

He was going to play the role of the compliant captive. He wasn’t an expert on criminal behavior patterns, but he knew well enough that a cooperative victim was seen as less of a threat. The more he could get his captor or captors to let down their guard, the more likely they would be to run their mouths.

The one thing Daniel had to make sure of was that he wasn’t about to get offed. He didn’t think it was likely since they would have killed him already if that was what they were after, but he couldn’t be complacent.

With a handle on his circumstances, Daniel turned his efforts to figuring out how he’d ended up in this situation. His memory was patchy at best. His whole head was mixed up.

One thing he knew was that he, Ravi, and Tristan were all supposed to be on a reconnaissance mission to figure out how best to deal with the VNM distribution system. He’d been opposed to splitting up, but had to concede that the other two had a point about making use of their limited resources.

Daniel had headed to the headquarters. All he’d meant to do was snoop around and take a look at the layout of the compound. He hadn’t wanted to make any waves or draw attention since he was at the enemy stronghold and he wasn’t stupid enough to try to be a hero.

Wracking his memory, Daniel recalled that he’d gotten eyes on the main warehouse. He hadn’t gotten any closer since it was pretty well-guarded. He didn’t remember being spotted, but it was the last thing he could remember. They must have snuck up on him.

The one thing that didn’t make sense was that they’d put him in a car. He couldn’t figure that part out. If he was at the headquarters, they should have just taken him inside. Instead, they were driving him elsewhere. He just couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

A few minutes passed in silence with nothing but the rumbling of the car under Daniel’s feet to keep him company. The car suddenly stopped and the door to his right opened.

The rhythmic pulsing beat of club music filtered into the car. Wherever Daniel’s captors had taken him, there was a party nearby. He kept an ear out, hoping to get a hint as to where this was, but a cool breeze that wafted in through the open window made him shiver.

There was a bit of a scuffle just outside the car, and the next thing Daniel knew, there was someone else being shoved into the back seat right next to him. It was a smaller guy, as far as he could tell.

Daniel shifted over to give the new guy some space after the car door was pushed shut. Shortly thereafter, the driver pulled away, putting them back on the road to gods knew where.

Barely a minute into the ride, the other guy started making noises: grunts, groans, and high-pitched whines, among other things. If it was an attempt to communicate, it was a poor one, though Daniel supposed it couldn’t be helped if the new guy was gagged like he was.

Daniel had to give the new guy one thing: the new guy did not know when to give up. Despite being gagged, the new guy did not stop making noise for even a moment. It was distracting, especially since some of those noises were definitely sexually charged.

When the car took an unexpectedly sharp turn, Daniel couldn’t help but curse. He tried to keep himself upright, but without a seatbelt, he lost that battle. He ended up on his side, while the other guy, as it happened, landed on top of him.

To Daniel’s dismay, the new guy was every bit as naked as he was. To make matters worse, the new guy was aroused. Evidence of that was poking him in the thigh, and from how hard the guy’s cock felt, he was probably beyond horny.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem all that likely that the grunts, groans, and whimpers from earlier were attempts to communicate at all. In context, it made much more sense that they were just the noises of a desperately horny man.

Sure enough, Daniel’s suspicions were confirmed. The new guy had managed to shift, somehow, so that his cock was pressing up into Daniel’s ass cheek. Even though he was trussed up, just like Daniel was, the restraints didn’t stop him. He rolled his hips, bucking and grinding his stiff cock against Daniel.

Daniel wasn’t homophobic, and the stakes were too high to be bothered by something this trivial, but he still had his limits. What this other guy was doing to him felt like a step too far.

He grimaced as he felt the wet pre-cum being smeared on his skin. Unfortunately, he could only grit his teeth and bear it. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do. It did make concentrating for the rest of the ride nigh-impossible, though. He kept getting distracted by the guy’s stiff cock rubbing and poking against him.

Daniel hoped that the other guy might get tired eventually, but that didn’t happen. The humping continued and only intensified every time they drove over a hump. The guy on top of him moaned every time that happened.

It was such an uncomfortable, unsettling experience that Daniel was almost relieved when the car stopped. The door opened and there was another scuffle as someone grabbed the guy off of Daniel and pulled him out.

When the pair of large, callused hands took hold of him next, Daniel expected it. What he didn’t expect, however, was how easily he would get manhandled. He wasn’t overweight or anything, but he wasn’t exactly a tiny guy. Still, the man that pulled him out of the car swung him around as if he weighed nothing.

In any case, without the distraction of a stiff cock poking against his ass, Daniel realized that the other guy must have been dosed with VNM. It explained a lot of things but also left him with more question. Foremost among those: why wasn’t he dosed?

Daniel’s head spun as he was heaved onto a shoulder and carried up a short set of stairs. He was plopped down at the top, his handcuffs removed in short order after that.

He rubbed his wrists, but that was all he managed to do with his newfound freedom before two men grabbed his arms. One put a hand behind his head, bearing down on him to force him to bend forward.

Daniel stiffened. No. No. He was only willing to cooperate so far. He struggled against the two men, but no matter how much he twisted or tried to leverage himself free of their grip, they were just too strong.

He took care of himself. He worked out regularly. He liked to think that he was a decently fit person for his age. These men were monsters.

Daniel was forced to bend forward. He clenched involuntarily, feeling exposed and vulnerable in an unsettling new way. The two men shoved his head and wrists into what felt like a wooden plank sawed in half. It was only after the other half was lowered on top that he realized it was a pillory.

As soon as the lock clicked, the men pulled back. Daniel pulled against the pillory. He figured it wouldn’t work—it refused to budge even when he put all his strength into fighting it—but it was worth a shot. The thing was bolted down pretty securely, it seemed.

A moment later, the rope tying Daniel’s ankles together was severed. He would have been relieved to have the freedom if he didn’t strongly suspect that it was only temporary.

Sure enough, two men—probably the same ones from before—grabbed at his legs. He kicked and struggled, but they caught him eventually. His legs were forced apart, exposing his hairy hole to the air. His ankles, meanwhile, were held against the posts of the pillory and clapped in manacles that made it impossible to move them more than a little bit.

Daniel flushed. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, he had to admit that he was starting to panic a little. He was exposed. Vulnerable. Hell, he could feel the air kiss his asshole. It was weird.

Taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep himself centered, Daniel noticed that there was a strange smell in the air. He wasn’t sure what it was. It was smoky and strangely musky. He’d already taken another breath without thinking, trying to put a finger on what the scent was.

As soon as he took that second breath, his skin started to tingle. His soft cock twitched. A frisson of arousal went through him as he realized that what he was smelling must have been VNM.

Daniel held his breath, but he knew that wasn’t a solution. He wasn’t a diver. He wasn’t going to last very long. Still, he had to try. He had to figure out what to do.

Before he could even begin to consider his options, the sack on his head was ripped away. He didn’t have to squint since the place was dimly lit anyway, neon lights around the place glowing eerily through the thick haze that hung in the air.

A cold knot of dread dropped into Daniel’s stomach when he looked up. He recognized his captors. They were guys from the precinct. Dirty cops he’d spent his career trying to keep in check.

He grimaced. Do these fuckers have no shame? he asked himself, not bothering to hold back the expletive on this occasion. If cops took him to this place, then he must have been taken here in a police vehicle. It was hard to imagine a more profound disgrace to the profession.

Rudy Jimenez—because of course, Jimenez would be the ringleader—smirked down at Daniel and said, “Oof. You really stepped in the shit this time, Danny-boy. The Chief won’t be able to save you now.”

Jimenez laughed. “You should have known better than to stick your nose where it didn’t belong, man. VNM’s just a party drug, anyway. Who’s it harming, really? Imagine being the buzzkill that wants everyone to go back to having lame old boring sober sex.”

Daniel would have had choice words for Jimenez if he didn’t have a ball gag behind his teeth. He had to settle for growling. This man was a stain on the profession.

Jimenez was disgracing—no—desecrating the uniform. The fact he had the unmitigated gall to wear it in a moment like this turned Daniel’s stomach. He’d always known there were dirty cops in the force. He never imagined they would be such low-life scum-suckers like Jimenez.

If it were only Jimenez, it would have been bad enough, but pretty much every crooked cop Daniel knew from the precinct was present. Hell, there were people here that Daniel never liked but knew he could trust with his life if it ever came down to it. Every last cop had a VNM vape of their own and seemed happy enough to just keep puffing away at the stuff.

Jimenez chuckled. “Hate me all you want, old man, but this part of town is hopeless, anyway. What’s the point in trying to be a good cop? Everyone’s just trying their best to get by.” He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked down at Daniel. “No one appreciates it when someone too honorable for their own good starts going around trying to mess things up for everyone.”

Daniel glared at Jimenez. If looks could kill, the Jimenez would have been in critical condition already.

Jimenez just shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so grumpy,” he said with a laugh. He spread his arms out theatrically and continued, “This is a party just for you! You and your protégé are the guests of honor.”

Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. He’d been so infuriated by Jimenez and the other cops that he’d entirely forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the car.

He glanced to the side and, sure enough, there was a second pillory next to him. He had wondered if the voice of the guy was vaguely familiar. His heart sank as he realized why. Clapped in the second pillory was none other than Ravi.

The junior detective looked fucked up. He was clearly high as a kite, so hopped up on VNM his eyes were practically glowing. He was wiggling his ass as if he were a streetwalker advertising his services, not a distinguished detective. The desperate, pathetic, simpering noises that made it past Ravi’s gag as he begged for attention were certainly unbecoming of his badge.

Daniel turned his gaze back to Jimenez, sheer hatred glinting in his eyes. It used to be that his anger was enough to make Jimenez and his cronies back down, but not today.

Jimenez chuckled. “We were hoping you’d see the light, join us on the right side, and stop making things so difficult for everyone. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to take a crack at your little boytoy’s sweet cunt.” He smirked. “You can have it, if you want. I’m sure no one’s going to complain about you having a personal bitch at the precinct.”

Daniel shook his head and glared at Jimenez. He’d never once thought of Ravi like that. He was straight, for one, and he took his duties seriously, unlike Jimenez and the other cops behind him.

He was a man of principle. He was raised to be good and to do right by the people he had sworn to protect. He would never sink to the same level as Jimenez and his crooked buddies. A man who betrayed his principles would have nothing in the end.

Jimenez shrugged. “That’s to be expected, I suppose. I’m just sorry it had to come to this,” he said, though from the way the corner of his mouth curled in a vicious little smirk, he wasn’t all that sorry.

“If that’s what you want, suit yourself,” said Jimenez. “If you’re not going to join us, then we’re just gonna have to make sure you’re useful to us. We can’t have you running around getting in the way of things. And besides, having two precinct fuckholes means more of my men are gonna be able to get their rocks off at the same time. Think of how much that’ll improve the morale.”

Daniel scoffed. If they thought he would break that easily, they had another thing coming.

One of the crooked cops took out a padded carrying case and opened it, revealing a row of pneumatic injectors filled with glowing purple fluid. Jimenez removed one of the injectors and handed it over to one of his cronies, who then approached the pillories.

The closer the crooked cop got, the more Daniel tensed. He’d seen what that stuff did to Ravi. He was determined not to succumb, but he didn’t know if he could even fight it.

The cop with the injector then turned to the side. Toward Ravi. Daniel’s eyes widened and the restraints keeping him in place on the pillory rattled as he struggled with all his might. “MMPH!” he grunted through his gag, though if it weren’t there, he would have been cursing up a storm.

Ravi didn’t seem all that opposed to what was happening, though. He tilted his head back, exposing his neck.

The crooked cop placed the tip of the injector against the side of Ravi’s neck. He depressed the trigger and there was a jolt as the needles bit into Ravi’s skin.

The blood vessels in Ravi’s neck briefly glowed as the concentrated VNM was pumped into his neck. The glow in Ravi’s neck faded quickly, but the glow in his irises glowed brighter afterwards.

With the dose delivered, the crooked cop went around to unbuckle the ball gag. It fell out, followed by a gush of drool. “C-cock!” Ravi moaned. “Cock! Need cock! Fuck me! Please!”

Jimenez bared his teeth in a vicious grin as he crouched down to Daniel’s eye level. He grabbed the older detective by the chin, forcing Daniel to look him in the eye. “Did you want one of those?” he said with a devilish laugh. “You seemed jealous.”

Daniel scoffed.

“That’s too bad,” said Jimenez, his lips curling into a wicked little smirk. “I was never going to superdose you. You’ll get what’s in the air and in the cum that you’ll be getting. I want you to fall into depravity slowly. So you can see and feel every excruciating moment as those precious principles of yours are eroded away.”

Jimenez licked his lips. He slipped a hand between his legs, rubbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. "I want you to feel every single cock that’s coming for you as payback for every single humiliation I had to endure because of you. I want you to fight with every bone in your body.

“And I want to watch the look in your eyes as the VNM slowly gets you addicted to getting dicked down—turning you into him.” Jimenez jerked his head toward Ravi, who was getting louder and more desperate with his begging.

Daniel’s heart sank into his stomach. Maybe it had been unwise to cooperate this far. He wasn’t sure what it would have changed, but he could have at least resisted.

He pulled against his restraints again, but not only was the construction of the pillory solid, the position he was put in was disadvantageous for trying to win free. At this point, he was powerless to avoid what was coming.

Daniel and Ravi were only getting out of this if Tristan hadn’t been caught. If Tristan was still in play, then there was a chance. A slim chance, granted, but a chance nonetheless. He could only hope that Tristan would get there on time.