Cal knelt in a dirty alley with a cock shoved into his mouth. When he first thought that he wanted to become Denae he had no clue that it would lead to this, a point where he sold twenty dollar blowjobs and feared a man who called himself The Hammer.

Granted he had known he could no longer stay at home. Denae was too important, the skirts, bras, panties and all had come out when his dad, May he rot in hell, Cal thought, found the packed sports bag in the bottom of his closet. Granted his dad had been searching for pot that he thought that Cal was smoking ... Like the neighbor didn’t have a pot plant growing on the fence line that would have made any amount of the noxious stuff that Cal wanted available for the taking and only required an out of sight drying location ... or in other words, Cal didn’t keep a stash in his room, nor really was he given to smoking pot. The smoke was nasty, worse than cigs as far as Cal was concerned. He’d vaped a couple of times, and thought that he might like to do that more if he could find the money.

Now he handled more money than he had ever seen before but all of it ended up in the hands of The Hammer, who for all intents and purposes owned him.

He wondered as he felt the weak pulses of the man’s cock in its rubber sheath, if he ought to kill himself...