Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, real places, or real events are entirely coincidental. The story is a creation of the author's very active and naughty imagination. Any opinions expressed are the characters' and should not be confused with the author's.
This story contains themes of a sexual nature between men, one man's journey to becoming a willing sex slave - it is also likely to touch upon issues of violence, drug-use, abuse, non-con, and much more. If you are offended by any of this or it is illegal where you live or because of your age, stop reading now!
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Chapter 1: Turned Out
The surreality of being told you face life in prison is winding. In my case it knocked me so hard that a loud ringing sounded out in my ears and the rest of what the officer was telling me faded into the background hum of the hospital ward - the beeping and buzzing of machines, the chattering and wailing coming from down the hall; I couldn't focus on anything. The same thought ran around and around my mind as I focused in and then dazed out again of a dream-like state, holding back tears and an overwhelming urge to cry out.
"Do you understand?" the police officers stern voice brought me harshly back to reality. "You are being charged with second degree murder."
There it was again, more words that felt like a punch to the gut, leaving me winded. I couldn't say anything; it was like I couldn't put my brain into gear and coordinate it to engage my voice. I nodded sheepishly, trying to digest the information that I was being told.
I was lying in a hospital bed recovering from a knee surgery after having been in a car accident. I had only a vague recollection, but I knew the accident had been my fault. I was out drinking - celebrating a friend's 21st birthday - and instead of taking a cab home made the utterly reckless decision to drive. I didn't recall the accident, but a man had lost his life and here I was still alive - relatively unscathed - to take responsibility. The winded feeling in my stomach suddenly became over powering, I leaned over the side of the bed and vomited onto the ground. I felt scared and alone.
The next two and a half months were mentally and physically exhausting for me. Due to complications from my surgery, I was kept in hospital for the duration of my trial - as the gravity of my situation crystallised before me. Faced with a possible life sentence, my family managed to scrape together enough money for a lawyer - a stout man named Clive - who never failed to remind me each time we met how lucky I was to spend my pre-trial detention here rather than in jail. He did nothing to reassure me and whatever way you looked at it, the cards were stacked against me. I won't lie; as the days and weeks ticked by, I was petrified about going to prison and I begged Clive to do everything possible to get me off the hook.
I knew what people said about prison; how someone like me would have to fight for my life and even just the thought of it exhausted me. I had slowly been discovering my sexuality, but had yet to act on my feelings in any way. Now those years - that important formative period of my life - would be stolen away from me and I was afraid about what the replacement was going to look like.
As the case came to trial, the only grace I eventually got was that my charge was downgraded to manslaughter based on a DUI - still with a hefty maximum sentence in South Carolina. I had some shoplifting misdemeanours - which truthfully had been misunderstandings - from when I was having a hard time at home in my late teens. I couldn't believe it. I was a good person and now I was facing the prospect of losing the next decade of my life behind bars.
The outcome of the trial was devastating. I had been living in a kind of bubble at the hospital - encouraged by the support of nurses and physios to get me back on my feet and a feeling that I was achieving something and moving forward. The sentence came in; 6 years and a fine. I felt winded again. I hadn't contested the charge and held out hope somewhere in the back of my mind of leniency.
"The judge doesn't take well to DUI cases," Clive informed me by way of explanation, "but you'll be out in 3 years with good behaviour, and we can appeal." That did nothing to assuage my disappointment at all. I knew my parents didn't have the means to appeal - maybe there would be other ways to do it, but in that moment I didn't care.
Three years!
It ran over and over in my head. If I can just survive three years I'll be free again, I told myself. The shock of that night; of being led into custody was immense. Up until that point - as long as I hadn't been in custody - the situation wasn't quite real. Here I now was though, being led away in chains and taken to prison; the first night I would spend locked up in my whole life.
Much of the experience of prison is more tedious than you could imagine. I felt exhausted by the process of registration alone. I had forms to sign, rules were explained to me and the process of what would happen the following day; all I managed to retain was that I was going to a holding cell for the time-being. I later learned that this place is known as the fishbowl, due to the fact that new arrivals are known as fish and everything that happens in the holding cells is visible to most of the other convicts from their own confinement. This is where I would spend the next two weeks while my papers were processed and I would be assigned a job and a cell. The fishbowl was like a regular cell in most respects, only much larger, to accommodate the new arrivals that would come in almost weekly. After registration, I was lead up to the door of the big cell with my bedroll in my arms; I stood anxiously, with eyes darting around trying to get a look at what I was walking into, acutely aware I didn't want to catch anyone's attention.
"CARLSON! - you're in bunk 4, back wall; lower bunk," the guard yelled.
Carlson; that was me. Brett Carlson, white, 21 years young, reasonably built - or so I had thought - and with a lonely night ahead of me.
I inched slowly into the cell and made a bee-line for my bunk; sensing the eyes of my new cell mates follow me. The door quickly clanked shut behind, I threw my bedroll down and I sat on the bottom bunk, looking down between my legs. My arms were trembling, I didn't even dare look up. I stayed like this for the next hour, terrified to look around me; wishing I could be anywhere but here. Eventually, as the time ticked by I slowly built up the courage to look around. The cell had room for 8 men, but at that moment there was only 6 of us. My bed was tucked in at the back corner up against the wall. Then there was another bunk beside mine running perpendicular and two in the middle of the cell pushed up against the opposite wall.
Carefully - without catching anyone's eyes - I surveyed my cellmates. I instantly felt a wave of disappointment; there was no one there that looked like me. It was the first thing Clive had said to me after the hearing. Find the guys that look like you and go talk to them - they've been there, and will be friendlier than you think. I was the only young person among the group of six, otherwise there was three black guys and two Hispanics. Lying on his bed opposite me one of the Hispanics briefly caught my glance and I quickly looked back down at my feet.
"Carlson huh? I'm Ricki," he said by way of introduction.
I had heard so much about prison and how you have to be wary of people's intentions; I was determined to keep to myself. Nonetheless, Ricki kept talking; he rambled on about the most inane topics and after a while I was glad to hear him talk; it took my mind off my nerves and sense of helplessness. Eventually, I slowly engaged his conversation and began to feel a little more at ease in the cell. Although he didn't look like me, and was certainly much older, I allowed myself over the next few days to become more relaxed as I got to know the routine of those first few days and felt that I had someone I could confide in.
Apart from Ricki, in the holding cell there was Carlos; another Hispanic, then three black guys. Reece was the definite leader of the pack - a big guy; both tall and imposing, in his mid 30s; he easily weighed twice my weight and he was cocky. His skin was dark like chocolate, and he had short hair done in small, short, tight dreds. I often stood with his arms crossed, puffing up his chest and showing his bi-ceps to be enormous. He allowed his junk to swing around in his loose pants and it was clear to me he was packing an imposing member. I knew for sure this is what made him so cocky and arrogant. I sensed without a doubt he had a massive cock. What he said in the cell was law, even though he was likely the youngest after myself, but he held himself in that domineering way. It went unsaid that - unless you wanted trouble - you better not cross this guy. As much as possible I stayed out of his way, and only occasionally got the unnerving feeling that he was watching me and the few times our eyes crossed I always looked away immediately.
Being in the fishbowl those first few days was like being taught to swim in the toddlers' pool; for the time-being our routine was offset slightly from the general population and we didn't mix, although we could see much of what was going on from where we were, as they could see us. I was glad of this initiation and after the first few days - although still far from feeling at home - I had found a kind of equilibrium in the routine and a safety of our segregation. This soon changed. Half way through the third day, the warden came to our cell and called Ricki, Carlos and one of the black guys; Tyrell out of the cell. They had been assigned to their new bunks, and with that - in a single flash - everything in the fishbowl changed.
Up until that point, Reece and I hadn't interacted; I had been careful to avoid him. Now with only three of us in the cell - me, Reece and the third black guy, Pedro - it was harder to ignore. He sauntered around, still making clear who the boss was, while I lay on my bed keeping to myself. Beside his bunk, Reece had a stash of goodies - from toothpaste to snacks and cigarettes - I couldn't believe that he had managed to accrue so much in such a short space of time, but Ricki had told me about him. He had been in before and was known to the guards - he ran a racket of trade and mostly was left alone to do so. As soon as we were only three, I heard him whistling to get my attention. I looked up cautiously; he told me if I needed anything he'd help me out, but I knew better than to get myself indebted for a tube of toothpaste. His friendly demeanor seemed to only lightly mask what was simmering below.
Over the next few hours, I had a feeling that Reece was becoming frustrated. A few times he tried to engage me, but I was determined to remain aloof - in hindsight perhaps ignoring him, or giving such curt answers was not the best strategy and only served to aggravate the situation, by denying the power over me that he wanted to demonstrate.
On day 4 after lights out, I climbed directly into my bunk and intended to sleep; without a word I rolled over face the wall, and was soon sleeping soundly.
A few hours later I woke up dazed and startled, and I instantly knew what was going on. In the dark recesses of my mind, I had a feeling that the way Reece had looked at me in the cell; his unnerving stare - I had been in danger from day one. A thousand thoughts were running through my mind; Should I scream? Should I fight? Where are the guards? Can I get out of the cell? I had all these questions and so many more, and yet I didn't do anything. My body was shaking and it was all I could do to keep myself from passing out in the bed - I pushed myself so my back was up against the wall. I looked up and in the dim light I could see both Reece and Pedro stood beside my bunk. They were both massive; in the sense that they obviously spent a lot of time working out, which complemented their tall frames. The only reason I could tell who was who in the faint light was because Reece was much darker-skinned. Standing in front of me in nothing but their white boxer shorts, they both looked impressive. In another world, I would have told you that they were handsome in their ways; Reece in particular. But as it was, the aggression of the moment made me so afraid that I couldn't take in any of what was happening, until Reece leaned forward, grabbing me but the wrists to pull me towards him. Instinctively, I fought back lashing out my fists and feet, even though I knew I would be no match for the two men before me. Finally Reece got a hold of my two arms and pushed me forcefully into the mattress.
"Now listen, this here's going to go one of two ways. Either you're going to give us your ass and we keep it between us or we can take it and everyone will know that you been turned out; you'll end up fucking out your ass for the rest of your time here," Reece smirked as I lay in the bed under his force totally helpless, staring deeply into his vicious eyes.
I look back on that moment, and wonder if I had yelled or if I had behaved differently, perhaps my time in prison would have been different. The fear inside of having these two powerful, older men towering over me was so intimidating and yet in a split-second decision something told me I had to resist. I began struggling and kicking against him with my legs. Reece brought his knee up and rested it on my groin applying pressure painfully. I couldn't help but let out a yell. With that, Pedro was beside me and pushed a rolled up sock into my mouth to muffle my scream. Then I saw it, Reece had a blade - I knew it the moment the metal reflected in the dim light. I froze solid. I was lying still breathing heavily though my nose as Reese brought the blade close up to my eye ball. I stared at it in disbelief - whatever happened that night I knew I didn't want to die.
"Shut the fuck up! You hear me!" Reece growled in a whisper. We were frozen together for what felt like an eternity.
With a slow steadiness he eased his grip and waited to see that I would be compliant. I lay frozen to the bed. Pedro pulled the sock out of my mouth and I gasped silently for breath. I stared up at the two men, now standing - towering over my bunk and I didn't say a word. Intently looking me in the eye, Reece pulled down his white underwear and revealed a large, black cock hanging between his legs resting on a low hanging pair of balls - It's heaviness swung lightly back and worth between his legs. It almost looked like an unimaginably large dildo; easily the biggest, real dick I had ever seen. He took his thick appendage in his hand and began stroking it, and for a few moments no one said a word. Finally, I saw Pedro hand Reece a small tub of grease and with that he instructed me to roll over. With the image of the blade seared into my mind, I did as I was told.
One of them grabbed my by the ankles and pulled me perpendicular on the bed and held my legs apart, exposing my ass. I immediately felt grease being applied liberally to my crack. I dug my head into the pillow and prayed that it would be over quickly. The bunk creaked and I sunk deeper into the mattress as Reece climbed on top of me. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Then I felt him. The girth of his large meat-stick rubbed crudely up against my slippery ass-crack. My body began to shake uncontrollably until Reece pushed his hand firmly into the centre of my back to hold me still. With his other hand he guided his massive cock-head to the opening of my anus. I had never so much as put a finger inside myself before that moment, and now here I was petrified in anticipation of the largest penis I'd even seen, about to penetrate my asshole. Before he even thrust I yelled out involuntarily. With that the sock was pushed back into my mouth.
"You gonna wanna push out or this gonna hurt!" Reece declared, as the pressure he was applying on my anus became more immense. I felt him pushing trying to enter me - it felt like he was pushing in the wrong spot and hitting against the space below my asshole until he pulled back and thrust forward again; suddenly I felt the head pop inside me. I let out another involuntary, muffled yell and with a red-hot, shooting pain his cock penetrated my hole. Once he was inside he brought his other hand up and pushed my head into the mattress to muffle out any further cries. The pain was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was so excruciating I thought I might pass out as the feeling of stretching and burning grew as Reece pushed himself deeper inside my guts.
"Fuck, he's tight, there's no way he been turned out before!" I could hear Reece say as my sense of hearing was the only thing I had in that moment.
"Let me fuck him!" Pedro declared.
"Hold up, let me get some first," Reece continued. His fucking had just began. After pushing himself inside me another few inches, he began to stroke his large member in and out. My anus had never felt anything so intrusive. It felt like I was being stretched open and tore up all at once. It wasn't long before he was gathering pace and he had managed to bury his long, thick, chocolate meat-slab deeper and deeper inside me with each fresh stroke.
Without having bottomed for another man in anal sex, it's nearly impossible to describe the sensation of stretching and fullness it gives you. Certainly the first time is rarely a pleasant experience and mine was no different. I longed for this unfamiliar feeling to leave me - the sensation of having your anal sphincters forced open is painful but also uncomfortable as your brain fights to close it against this foreign invading object. My asshole had never been opened in this way and the feeling was akin to needing to shit, plus extreme pressure as the cock enters deep into your colon. I could feel the tears now streaming down my face.
"My go!" I heard Pedro say as Reece finally pulled his thick cock out of my aching hole. I couldn't believe it but almost immediately the pain subsided and I got some relief as my stretched sphincter tried to close over to its natural state. Alas, it's new resting state was far from a tightly puckered muscle it had been before. I felt it relax to an open sag with a loud fart passing it's loose lips. The respite was only momentary.
As the weight of Reece's body lifted off me, Pedro took his place. He was older and his hands were much rougher than Recce's; I could feel the calluses of a manual labourer on his palms, the roughness scratching on my soft, hairless skin as he searched my body for places to hold me down. Then I felt his cock against me. All I knew of his dick at that moment was from glances I had stolen in the showers. His large cock hung down as thick as my arm and I had wondered whether it could possibly grow any larger when erect. I was about to find out. What was certain, was that he had an ample package. He brought his forearm up to the back of my neck and pushed down, before laying his whole weight on top of my body. I sank deeper into the mattress and struggled to breathe with the weight on my neck. I could feel his large cock rubbing up against the base of my back as he adjusted himself lower so that his thick meat-pole would line up perfectly with my asshole; it felt eye-wateringly thick and heavy as it swelled larger and larger. I knew what was coming and I steeled myself for another assault.
In anticipation, my body began to tremble again and my natural instinct was to squeeze my sphincter tightly to block access to this large anaconda slowly sliding its way up my thigh. I soon noticed though that the pain of his jabs when the large gland of his cock began piercing my anal opening were intensified by my squeezing, and so I willed myself to push my anus open. As soon as I did it - almost immediately - I felt the searing agony of a new, wide phallus penetrating me again. I moaned loudly into the pillow and as the whole length of Pedro's long, thick, chocolate cock was buried inside my colon right to the hilt. The pain that shot through my guts as he bottomed out in me was like being stabbed in the abdomen from the inside and my automatic reaction was to try to escape the pain; to de-impale myself from this large meat-pole. I managed to free my arms and grab on to the frame of the bunk to pull myself forward to the head of the bed and away from this deeply violating slab of man-meat. I snatched another momentary relief as his phallus left my body and my gaping hole sighed the briefest relaxation from its agonisingly stretched state.
It was only fleeting though; I suddenly felt a large fist crash down in the centre of my back, smashing me violently onto the bed and causing my entire body to spasm. The thud left me dazed and within a moment I felt Pedro's weight on top of me again.
"STAY THE FUCK STILL!" he roared.
His cock-head wasted no time in finding its target again. This time he raised himself above me and held me in place with his hands on both of my arms, pushing me deeply face first into the mattress again. He buried his huge meat inside me and I welcomed the burning pain as a distraction from the agony emanating through me from the sucker-punch I had taken to the back. Almost immediately he was ball's deep inside me again. Then he began fucking. His thrusts were aggressive and deep and he was showing my asshole absolutely no mercy.
In a way in that moment, I disassociated from my body. I tried to let my mind wonder like I couldn't really believe what was happening. I'd done everything right. I'd kept to myself. I didn't owe them anything! Why is this happening to me? The thoughts were running through my head over and over but each violent thrust deep into my colon brought me crashing back to reality. Pedro was losing control of himself as he fucked out my anus on the bottom bunk in that holding cell. The agony was building and slowly becoming overwhelming and involuntarily I could hear myself yelling muffled screams into the mattress. My anus was so stretched out I thought the feeling of discomfort would never pass. I felt so ashamed that these men had taken my power; my control of my own body had been taken from me when these men forced their huge penises inside my asshole against my will.
"Yeah, you been turned out now boy! You a boy now!" Pedro droned into my ear.
Was it true? I wondered to myself, have I been turned out? I thought back to what Reece had said moments before. I could give them my ass or they'll take it; turn me out and I'll be fucking my ass out for the rest of my time in prison. I felt a sickness in the pit of my stomach as Pedro repeated the words again:
"Yeah boy, you been turned OUT!"
I tried to block it out of my head. I had been turned out and would never not have been turned out again. It was so unfair in this short moment, this one life-changing night, these two men had stolen my agency, my own control of my destiny and decided it for me. These two large, muscular, alpha, black men had wanted my hole and they had taken it - without even thinking what the consequences would be for me. Their decision to turn me out would transform not only my time in prison, but also profoundly change the direction of the rest of my life.
"Yo man, let up, you don't wanna damage him - let me get another go!" Reece's words were a relief and the aggressive thrusting Pedro was forcing me to endure finally tailed off. Then there it was again; the momentary relief of my anus closing over and relaxing as he pulled out, but it never lasted long enough. I was exhausted lying on the bed. I opened my eyes momentarily to look around and allowed myself to adjust to the light. The dull ache in my back and in my anus faded faster than I expected and lifted my head to breathe deeply.
I looked out to the aisle. Where are the guards? How long would this go on? I thought to myself, but there was no one in the corridor. Then in the distance in the cells across the hall, I could make out some movement. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, but on the other side of the hall I could see that we had an audience. How long had they been watching? Can they see me being fucked? So now everyone in the prison would know I had been turned out. Before I had time to piece together this new information, I felt Reece applying more grease to my now sloppy hole, line his cock up to my ass and begin thrusting deeply as he penetrated me balls deep once again.
"You a boy now! You know what that means boy...you going to be fucking out your ass for anyone who wants it." Reece drilled it into my mind. I tried to block it out, but it kept ringing over and over; I'd been turned out. I contemplated my new reality as Reece and Pedro took turns fucking my asshole until finally my body shut down. In an intense moment of trauma like this, I guess it was a protective mechanism. For that reason, I don't know how long they continued to fuck my hole that night. If they bred me one time each or more, but with me passed out they had free and unrestricted reign to ruin my asshole.
I came around early, waking up about 5 am. I had an overwhelming urge to defecate and quietly rose to use the toilet. Pain shot through my anus anew as I pushed out and I felt a large amount of liquid pass out of me; I was afraid to look, but eventually stole a glance at the contents of the bowl.
Bizarrely, a wave of relief washed over me that I hadn't expected; there was no blood. Yet what I did see was likely much worse. There was a lot of cum floating in the water. The realisation came washing back - I had been turned out. I had been turned out forever. It was the ultimate humiliation - not only to be fucked and have a man's cock forced inside my asshole against my will - but for him to breed me like a woman. To be used how a man would usually use a woman's pussy - it solidified what had happened and I realised I would never again not be a man who had been bred like a cunt. The worst was that everyone knew it and I would soon have to face this reality every day. I crawled back into my bunk and squeezed my eyes tightly closed, wishing I was anywhere but there.
When I finally stood and lined up for morning count, my body ached and I waited in line with my two rapists towering over me on both sides. Not a word was spoken, and I avoided any eye contact choosing instead to look down at the ground, not wanting them to see me. In the shower afterwards, I inspected myself and let my fingers wonder discreetly to my newly deflowered asshole. It felt tender, but I wasn't in pain and instead of a tight ring, I was able to slip the tip of my finger into the hole - it felt nice; soft and wet - a slight tingling sensation ran through me, which wasn't unpleasant.
Should I report it? Who would I tell? Will they believe me? Can they save me from danger? I thought long and hard that morning about what to do and the truth be told I was petrified about reporting what had happened to me. At midday, both Pedro and Reece were called up and moved to their new cells and so I felt the decision had been made for me. They were both on the third tier and had no view of the fishbowl. I was relieved and convinced myself that somehow that would be the end of it. If I could avoid them, I would be safe. Before he left, Reece handed me some smokes without a word. I refused to accept them and so he left them down on my bunk. I wouldn't smoke them - I didn't want to owe anything to this man. Nonetheless I questioned his motives; Was this a gift? Was he buying my silence? I wasn't sure I wanted to know; I immediately tucked them away in my box.
That afternoon three new inmates arrived in the fishbowl and I was thankful that they knew nothing of the events of the previous night. I kept myself to myself and to them I was like a quiet guy who didn't want to engage. My final days in the fishbowl passed off without incident, I slept and avoided as much interaction as possible. I decided the less I spoke, the less I would attract attention to myself. I waited patiently, praying that my new cell mate would not be Reece - or worse still, Pedro.