Cal woke up long before he expected Hammer to return. He got out of the cot and padded to the john in the corner. It took longer to piss than usual, because his prick seemed to not want to go soft, even though his bladder was nearly bursting.

Still eventually the morning wood resolved and he felt somewhat relieved. At least physically. Mentally? He’d cum, less than 12 hours ago, if his sense of time wasn’t entirely off, while a brute fucked his asshole. Even trying to frame it as entirely a sex for food exchange didn’t seem to discourage his stupid prick which had stood up as he checked first the small window (he was pretty sure that even if it hadn’t been locked he couldn’t have fit through it but it was a thick pane of cloudy glass that barely let in the light of some blinking neon over night and the sun during the day) then the door (locked from the outside with not even a keyhole on the inside.