Warning:
This story contains sexual references among male to male, one young black male of 18 years and a black male of 35, both in a prison. If this sort of stories offend you, do not read any more.
My Life in the Can
First Part. Why I Sold My Ass to a Brother.
I was barely passed my eighteen years when I was framed by a mother... by a fucking son of a bitch and put in jail. I am not a thug, you know, but a young educated young black man. Well, I mean I finished my high school with good grades in English, but had no money to pay for a collage. That's is why I had to work in several shitty jobs; like waiter in bars. I was also a few days cleaning windows with a team. But that job sucked for I suffered of vertigo. I could not stand being so high up. When looking for a job, I use my best English, not the usual punk language of the hood. Sometimes I had dreamed of writing novels for I was very good in high school writing short stories. Then, now being in prison I will profit of all this free time and start a career as a writer. Anyway, since I heard ghastly stories about prison life... I am not sure if I could do it on my own, unless I would find... a protector. To become a writer you would always need some means, either money, or a family, to be able to train developing plots and stories. During the Renaissance in Italy and later in other parts of Europe some artists developed their talent thanks to a rich patron.
What happened? You do not need to believe it, for it sounds quite idiotic. Nobody would buy my story anyway.
One day a black man I barely knew was murdered. He was someone of the streets called Nasty, and I was in a bad place when it happened. It was a bad place because I was sleeping in my bed alone. Nobody could tell where I was but someone told the police that a like a week before, I was been fighting with Nasty with showing a knife in my hand. Well, this part is true; I had a knife. But it was like an emergency instrument, something to show the brothers I was a respectable fellow. Well, Nasty, was murdered. He was involved in selling drugs, and god knows who had killed him. He was stabbed several times with a knife more or less like mine. And some people had seen me quarreling with him a week before. The poor bastard had a mean mug. That is all I know about him. We were not friends or anything. As I was in a harry to work, I bumped into him and he insulted me. I was scared as hell and reacted by showing him my switchblade to inspire some respect. But he was not scared in the least and took out another knife and a little crowd was watching us doing a piece of acting at being dangerous thugs in broad daylight. It was a bullshit of quarrel. We both were trying to show we were a pair of punk gangsters. I told all this to the police but they don't not believe my story. The fight was so fake that people easily separated us and took out our knifes off our hands. So we were really a pair of punk thugs. Not a single drop of blood was spilled. While the people were holding us we exchanged a few of our best insults and that was all.
One day the police went right to the bar where I was working and took me. One handcuffed me like in the movies saying, "You have the right to remain silent..." and all that.
Then, they brought me to the police station and pushed me into a room for questioning. It was like in the movies, dude. One of the cops showed me a picture of the dead guy and asked me if I knew the man. I told him I have seen him a few times but I have not any kind of relation with him. They already knew about my quarrel with this guy and showed me a picture of him dead over a pool of blood.
The cop said, "He had been sewn. Ten stabs on his body. Do you have any switchblade?"
I said, "no, sir, I had not had any switchblade in my life."
I was even suspicious for speaking nicely to them, and one had the mug of tell me,
"You think we are swallowing all the shit you are spewing?"
And the other one said,
"You are not going to fool us with your fake educated speech."
Well, I am not going to continue with this sad story, for it sucks.
I will understand if you don't buy this story, but I even have trouble to believe it myself. Sometimes, I am looking inside my memory to see if I had forgotten this shit of a crime, but I do not remember doing any such thing in my life. I had not even killed a fly as a kid.
Then, while telling all this, I feel a little idiot. I am rather timid and a easily scared. Then I have to hide this wimpy condition of my mind by doing the best I could to look threatening, like a proper thug should.
So, instead of telling you this sad story that stinks so bad, I would tell you a different one. It is about... how I had managed to save my ass from a gang rape in prison. This story can be useful for any young teen if he ever finds himself in the same dear-straits as me. A fine couple of word, eh? Surely, I will become a fucking successful writer one day.
When the police took me, I was interrogated for hours and sent into the city jail for two days. Then, they brought me before the examining magistrate. I was waiting for a while till they called my case. Number so and so. I was already a number like in the movies. An assistant read a lot of words, then the magistrate asked me:
"How do you declared yourself?"
I said, "innocent".
Neither, the judge, nor my attorney, liked my declaration of innocence in the least and they put a grimace of annoyance, like saying "what a bore of a black."
Then the judge sent me into preventive prison. The police handcuffed me and took me into a cellular van; a little later I was thrown in a prison of the state.
I was given an orange jumpsuit and put in a in cell with a bunch of three older guys, too old perhaps to show any interest in my person.
Next day, as I was in the yard for some walking and exercise, I had not time to worry about my trial, for I had a nasty feeling.
As I was walking on the yard, I was aware of a bunch of guys walking after me at a distance. They were like six or seven. Not sure because I was fearful to look back. They had the most nasty mugs I had ever seen. They were in their thirties or forties and were drooling; I mean they watching my back with leering eyes.
Their glancing sent a shivering through my spine; I remembered some stories I heard about a gang rapes of young guys in prison.
Then, I was a black teenager and a rather cute one to make it worse. For his sex starving guys, I must had the look of a sweet babe. They would be dreaming of a nice gal with a tight pussy in its rear. These thoughts were starting to worry me seriously. I never had been gay. So, I had to think fast and find a way to save my ass from this bunch of nasty fuckers. They were walking after me drooling. In looked back once more and I had a glimpse of their bulging trousers. I was shit scared.
I was always trying to play a tough guy's role. Most of the boys in the neighborhood have to. But this tactic was not going to work in a kingdom full of criminals. I was not prepared for the situation.
I had always felt some contempt for the fucking queers and now... I mean... I have never felt any interest on the dicks of the guys, but sometimes... well, sometimes I was leering at the nice butts of some whities, especially the sweet blond ones. I loved to watch the white butts in the showers in high school. But just now, I had not time to psychoanalyze me, for a bunch of sex starving criminals could wreck my ass badly.
Nevertheless... The memories of this day had scared me. Then, I would psychoanalyze me a little.
I am a straight guy, you can bet it. But, sometimes, I was worried by a hidden side of my personality. I was aware that I liked some boys that... well, they looked a little feminine. I mean those boys that perhaps are gays but... they are not out in the open, but hiding in a closet. Or perhaps, they are just some boys that had not yet discovered their deeply buried queerness in them. I was dreaming, that these boys at watching my black dick could start to drool, and they would like to experience a first hand knowledge of the pleasures of a black dick bigger than average but not too much.
I never felt contempt for these guys. But I dreamed of fucking them, especially the white boys. I mean those boys with a pretty face or a nice jutting ass. Well, about jutting us, they were more common among the brothers. I even had been the but of some jokes because of my jutting ass. On the other hand, I was aware that I had been buried in problems if I were going after a white ass. First, if you go after a white, making friends with him and so, everybody would understood what I was going after, and so they would start slandering. So I often had to brush these thoughts off me; that way I would not stray off the right track.
Now, I was in the can and the rules had suddenly changed. If these guys get a hold of my ass, my reputation will be a pile of shit. Well, given my tender age, I will have the reputation of a nice ass to fuck. After that, I will be a fucking queer forever. So I had to save my ass or else... I was living a nightmare.
I turned around and looked out. The little crowd following me was now like a dozen guys. I was feeling the need to piss, but I was scared as hell of going into the bathrooms. They were waiting for something like this to catch me and made my ass into a bloody pulp. So I was walking alone in the yard and worrying about my ass. By being aware that my ass was being watched, I tried to keep my body straight. I was worrying about no showing a jutting ass and making them hornier that they were already. The first day in the yard passed away and I was able to restrain my need of going to pee until we went back to the cells.
The next day in the yard, I was being followed by a bigger crowd of guys that were leering after my ass. I had to solve this problem fast or my ass would be in real trouble. My first reaction was to avoid their eyes, but now I was turning to look back at them with attention. I did not like their mean faces. Then, I looking around the yard I saw a tall black man near a wall. He was in his late thirties or so, and was watching me with a smiling face. I realized he was a strong man and had several tough guys around him. I had a sudden fit and walked towards him sporting a shy smile. He smiled back at me when I was near.
"Hi! Man!" ?he greeted me.? "I am glad to meet you!"
I was relieved by his greeting.
"Hi! I am also glad!" I dared to say. "My name is George. What's yours?"
"I am Nat. Nat the Smithy", he said.
"Your face recalls me of a teacher I got in high school."
"A teacher, eh? Good. I would like to be your teacher here and your protector."
His hand reached the mate standing on his right and pulled him out to make room for me.
"Come here, so we can talk sweet."
I approached to him shyly.
"You look worried." He said.
He was patting the wall, inviting me to stand by his side. I moved near him and he passed his arm over my shoulders. His head leaned a little towards mine. Our heads were touching. I have seen all those guys that were following me a little disappointed. Some of them started to disperse.
"I am scared of these guys." I told him.
"Nobody will dare to touch you for as long as you'll be with me."
I watch him a little and he was hunky man. He was surrounded by some rough guys that looked like his henchmen.
"I think you are right." I said.
"Your ass would be saved... as long as you'll be mine."
"Would I... I mean, I would... I would be yours?"
"Yes. They have learned a respect for personal property."
"Personal property?
"Sure. They are all a bunch of thieves. Do you know? This are nothing but punks. But they should learn to respect a personal property."
"Personal property?"
"Yeah. There must be a law, you know? If there is not law, we got only chaos.
"Chaos? Oh, yeah. That's true. It will be a chaos."
"We have to teach the punks that there is a law. And there is a punishment if they break the law."
I was amazed hearing this.
"There is a punishment?"
"Yeah. The rule of the strongest."
"Of the strongest."
"The rule of a mutherfucker like me."
"Oh!"
"I would chop the balls of anyone who break the law."
I shivered hearing these words.
"Chop... the balls."
"Yeah. Don't be afraid of them."
"I see."
"All these guys are shit. A bunch of losers."
"I see."
"They are the shit of the earth. Cockroaches to stamp your feet on."
"Yeah."
I was amazed at his fine manners. I did not expect someone speaking like him in a prison. If he were not a black man, he could be a senator or the president of the US.
"Your ass... would be saved, boy. For as long as you will be my property. Do you agree?"
"Oh! Sure!"
"Good boy."
I was now reacting to my words.
"Agree? Agree to what?"
"To be my property."
"Your... your property?"
"Yes. You and your ass would be only mine. Then, as my property... I can use you any way I would fancy, I can lend it, lease it, sell it, or exchange it in the market for any valuable assets in the market."
"Oh, hum... I will be a piece of property?"
"Yeah."
I was in silence for a while. A shivering shook my spine.
Then he said to convince me,
"A private property is best cared for. Otherwise, if you have not an owner. I mean, you have only two options; to be a private property or to be a public property. Then, public property it is very much abused, and nobody take care of it."
"Then, the options are public or private property."
"That's the law of the can. If you are public, you will be prey for the drooling thugs that were following you. They would break your ass in a bung gang of debauchery."
"Oh!" I felt a shiver.
"The last time this happened was last year. A young guy like you was raped by thirty thugs."
"Shit!"
"They were fucking him on the floor of the toilets. And after being fucked by the tenth or so punk, the boy passed out. They continued fucking the poor boy laying on his belly, his legs spread out. They were fucking him serially till the time of going back to the cells."
"This is terrible."
"The boy was forgotten there, laying on a pissed floor like a corpse."
"Shit!"
"When everybody was back in their cells, the guards missed him. They found him almost dead in the toilets of the yard."
"The poor boy!"
"If they got you it would be a disaster for your ass. You would be in the infirmary with high fever for two or three weeks. They will stuff you with a lot of antibiotics. I heard of a young boy that died of septicemia."
"Septi... what?"
"Septicemia. A deadly infection."
"Oh! Shit! You have scared me!"
"If you are my property, I would be the unique owner of your ass."
"The owner... of..."
"Yes, you have to chose. They are waiting to see if they can take you."
"You mean... you are going to fuck me?"
"Of course."
I was in silence for some seconds.
"My former lover... was released two weeks ago. I am rather horny these days."
"Horny?"
"Yeah. I used to fuck him daily."
"Do you have a... a big... a big thing?"
"No. I got a small one. Well, just average."
I was little skeptical.
"It's real? You are not big?"
He grabbed my hand and moved it inside a slit he had in the jumpsuit. He push my hand to his crotch and I met his crisp pubs there. I was a little dizzy with all the talk we had, so I did not react normal. I should had get my hand out swiftly. But no. I let him push my obedient hand till it reach his hanging dick. I grabbed his dick that began to swell and rise.
I was amazed. It was a monster of a dick.
"What do you think, eh?"
"Um... it is... it is not small."
"I was kidding."
"I'm not sure. I never did any fag thing."
"Well. That's better. It is never late for pleasant experiences. You are still very young."
"But it must be painful, to take that huge thing up."
"Yeah. But you'll never forget the thrilling."
"You mean the pain?"
"I mean the pleasure. Once you get used to a big dick, your will never live without one the rest of your life."
"You mean... I will get addicted to big cocks?"
"That's what they say."
"It's scaring."
"Well, don't be afraid."
"I am not afraid... I am fucking scared."
"Well, as your ass is a virgin... I would be nice to you."
"If it is very big... it must hurt a lot!"
"Yes. But I will no enter it in you."
"Oh! Do you really mean it?"
"I will not enter you... the whole dick. I am a civilized man, you know?"
"Well... It seems I had to accept."
"From now on, we are going to be a married couple. Let me congratulate you for your choice."
"Oh! Thaaanks!"
I was amazed that I was thanking him for this arrangement.
"You are welcome!"
I was glad with his words and he continued speaking.
"You would not regret it. I am a kind of... a loving man."
"You are?"
"Like your teacher in high school, remember?" I bet he was a tender man to you, wasn't he?
"Oh, yeah!"
"Did he fuck your ass?"
"Oh, shit! No, no! He only... he only sucked my dick. He was a white gay teacher and loved the black boys of my age. He was a cocksucker."
We remained quiet for while and I was astonished that I had made such an agreement. I was unable to think for a while.
We were in the open yard with all the inmates around but Nat did not hesitate to hug me with a strong embrace. Then I felt his lips over mine and he kissed me deeply, entering his tongue in my mouth. His tongue was exploring there for a time, then he let my mouth free. I felt a rush of blood in my face. If I were a white boy I would be deeply blushing in front of the crowd. My heart was also thumping wildly for this was the first time a man has kissed me in the mouth.
I remember then the case, when the teacher moved his face near mine with the intention of kissing me, then I felt disgusted at the idea and pushed him out. He took that rejection lightly for he knelt before my crotch, unzipped my jeans, took out my dick and started to suck in eagerness. I felt a great pleasure with the blowjob, so I was even proud. I was standing there, a black boy from the neighborhood, and there he was, a white teacher sucking my black dick. I was in heaven. This was also the first time I was sucked and it was a hell of freak feeling. I was amazed watching the teacher relishing so much the sucking of my dick. He was working with great ability. He was a master of the trade.
He had swallowed my whole dick inside his mouth. His nose was buried in my pubs. I thought my dick was so big that nobody on earth could swallow it whole. But there was this teacher proving me wrong.
When I had my orgasm I was delighted that he was swallowing all my cream, so not any drop of cream was spilled.
I was happy with him swallowing my jizz, for I was a little awkward spilling my cream on the carpet or on the sheets of the bed. I don't even liked to wet my fingers with the sticky jizz, for I thought it was disgusting. So, most of the times I jerked off over the toilet bowl and whash my hands and dick afterwards.
With the teacher, it was all much better and cleaner. I did not feel responsible of any dirt on the floor and my dick finished thoroughly cleaned. Some days later he was helping me with the Maths and English language. Then, after the particular class finished I paid in kind by letting him to suck my black cock. He was eager to suck it and had great pleasure in doing it.
Now, I was surprised. The kiss of Nat had not produced in me a feeling of disgust. Perhaps, this was caused by being in prison. Perhaps has something to do with some stuff in the water I was drinking in jail.
I don't know, but something had changed my feelings. I was a little shocked by the kiss; that is true; very only a little. Thinking about... well, a few changes in my life have made of me a different person.
After being kissed in the mouth by a man, I looked around and saw the drooling punks going out and loosing all hope of taking my ass. I felt fortunate for a moment and breathed deeply.
Now, I was beside Nat and he had his arm over my shoulders. Then in the face of the people in the yard, he was biting my neck and sucking the lobe of my ear. Then he grabbed my hand and put it inside his jumpsuit and made me caress his bulging dick. I felt it was too big. Sometimes Nat sucked my my neck and produced red marks on it. Some inmates in the yard were showing envy of these scenes.
Suddenly, the siren was whaling and it was time to go back to the cells. I was going with my new `owner' that had his arm over my shoulders and their hunch men were around us. Then, once inside the corridors, Nat said,
"I will visit you tonight. You must wash well and be ready."
Then we parted for our cells that were far from each other.
Once in my cell, I began to think about how would `my owner' take care of my ass, as our cells were far away from each other. As I was doing nothing in the cell, I began to worry about my near future. How painful would it be to be penetrated by a big dick? Would the dick burst my ass and make me bleed? He was a big guy. He was a hunk of 6 feet 8, what would that mean in size for his dick? I had all the time in the world to think of my situation and a new philosophy was growing inside my head. This philosophy was going to teach me how to survive in the can.
Now, how painful would it be to be fucked? I suppose it all depends on the size of the dick. It must be a different experience to be penetrated by a small dick as compared to a big one. If this were only a case of feeling a great pain in the ass... well, why the gays continue with... with this behavior? Why they continue... how are they always looking for guys that would fuck their asses?
I was thinking for hours about these issues. I understood that any boy could try this act... I mean, he can let someone fuck his ass "just to see how it feels", out of sheer curiosity. Or perhaps he has a weak will; that means he could be easily persuaded to let someone to fuck him. A way or another someone founds himself into this sort of experience. But in general gays were doing this not only once to see how it feels, but they become addicted and will keep taking dicks all their lives. Why? If the ass-fucked act would be such a nasty experience... how could they persist for years with this? Being fucked for a time, while in prison, would make of me a queer for life? Would I get hooked to being fucked and get an addiction to dicks? If Nat make me suck his dick, shall it be a disgusting experience... or would be a pleasant one? For the white teacher in high school loved to suck cocks. Would I be forever a cocksucker like my teacher in high school? The experience I was going to live will it change my inner feelings of being a straight male forever?
I was not in mood to speak to my cellmates, so I was brooding alone looking at the wall. I found there some figures made in the wall with the lines and stains it had.
"So you two have been engaged, eh?" The older man in cell commented.
I was a little shocked at hearing that, then I turned my face to answer but later I shunned his eyes.
"What do you mean?" I made a pause. "Oh! Yeah!" I added.
I was surprised about how fast the news spread in the can.
"You have been lucky!" He said.
"Lucky?"
"You have a husband to save your ass."
"Yeah."
I replied shunning his eyes to observe the gray wall.
A silence of lead filled the cell murdering the chat.
I continued with my daydreaming about the consequences of my... "engagement".
I have never been a queer, neither I ever have looked at any man with lust. Well, perhaps I have a small inner vein of gayness in me after all.
I remembered the pretty white boys I liked in my second year in high school. They looked like girls and they were as timid and mild mannered as gals, so I felt attracted to them. Sometimes I felt lust while watching them in a discreet manner and wishing I would dared to kiss them. Even I met some white boys that I liked. For a time I befriended some white boy and I was invited to pass an afternoon at their homes alone... to study. It seemed to me that some of them were... a little queer; perhaps they were hidden gays but I never was sure.
Once I was about to kiss in the mouth one these white boys in a fit of lust, but I stopped dead in my track. I did not dare. Other times I had the idea of groping the round ass of one boy but I only touched his rear lightly a few times. I have also watched with pleasure their white asses in the high school showers after doing some running in the sport's yard. I seemed to me they looked... like they were a good f... I mean, I was dreaming for a time of fucking some of these white asses. This is not a fancy I dared to brag about with my black buddies but I never heard anybody speaking badly about fucking a pretty white ass. I have also watched some of my buddies looking at the butt of some white boy but we never commented about this. We were not open enough to comment about this issue. Nevertheless, I never dared to try anything for I was a little shy then. On the other hand I never tried the easy way; that is to go after an open gay. This would no be any problem to get an ass with a known fag, but I was afraid that being around a known gay would sully my reputation.
I remember that once I was going to sleep over in the bedroom of a white boy of my age. He was changing his clothes and was for a moment in his briefs. I told the guy with malice "you got a nice white ass".
He replied smiling "yours is also a cute."
Then we were looking at our jutted rears in the mirror of the closet. He was watching my crotch that was bulging but he was not showing any bulge.
I heard to say that gay people used to get horny watching the bulge of another guy. So I reasoned that if he had not any bulge then he was not gay. Then I did not dare to go any farther and grope his ass with my hand, as I wanted. So this day before the mirror I have discovered that I had also a nice jutted ass. Now, I was aware that reality has reversed the role of my life. I was not going anymore after a boy's ass but other guys were going after mine.
All along this evening I was thinking about the awaiting experience that I have to endure with Nat. How would he will take me as his... well, I was going to be playing the role of "his wife". This damned word "wife" made me feel a little shame. I had never figured of myself playing this role. I have always felt like a straight, even in such cases when I was dreaming with a pretty white boy. I was always ready to fuck anything, male or female, that I could found along my way.
Then I recalled that Nat could come this night. Then I sat on the toilet and began to shit. I had not any need of doing this but I tried hard to expel any shit I could have to get my ass as cleaned as possible. Then I washed my hole to make it as clean as possible. I took my time doing this. Then the time to sleep was announced and I went to to bed, thinking about how Nat would come to my cell. After a time thinking I was fast asleep.
End of First Part