We stepped into Reza’s apartment, which was dark and cool for such a warm day. The TV was on with Bob Barker telling some fat lady in a “Love That Bob” tee-shirt that she just won a refrigerator. Miguel and Reza walked into a back bedroom and before long I could smell the pungent odor of the magical herb. I watched a commercial for laxatives and heard Johnny Olson yelling “come on down” as Miguel exited the bedroom and mumbled to me “lets go.”

“How’s the weed? Is it any good?” I asked my buddy.

“Oh yeah, good shit. Got half a z. We can settle up at your place.”

Just as we got to Miguel’s car a cop pulled up with lights on. We stopped and turned around. “Hold it right there boys,” said a voice from the car. We froze. A fairly young but serious looking cop got out of the car, hand on his unbuckled gun, and asked for our ID. “Stay where you are” he ordered as he walked back to his car with our ID and began talking on his 2-way. A minute later another cop car pulled up, lights flashing. The two cops started talking to each other and finally the second cop walks over to us. “Is there a problem, officer?” I asked. “Yes, there is. We had a report of drug activity in this complex. You boys buying or selling?”

“Neither,” piped up Miguel. “We were just visiting a friend.”

“Well then, do you mind emptying your pockets on the hood of your car?”

I knew Miguel had half an ounce of herb in his pocket. But I walked to the hood of his car and emptied my pockets. “See, officer? Nothing.”

“Now you, son” the cop said to Miguel.

Miguel complied and out came the bag of weed. “Alright, you are both under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. Do you understand?” came the words from the cop as he pulled out his .38 while his buddy came over to handcuff us. I protested, “I’m clean. I didn’t have anything.”

“Yeah, kid, tell it to the judge,” came the reply.

Even though we were first time offenders Miguel and I both got one-year sentences for possessing 14 grams of marijuana. With gain time we would be out in 9 months. I was sent to county jail, called The Farm because they had a vegetable farm there, mostly used for the inmates’ meals but also sold to local markets. Miguel went to city jail. Why the difference, I’ll never know. We didn’t go to state prison because of the short sentence. Since we were both 20 years old we would have gone to a youth facility, which would have been much better than The Farm.

My plan was simple. Stay quiet, work hard, do my 9 months and leave. The first two months were uneventful. The jail was divided into three pods with twelve cells in each pod. There were two inmates in each cell. In the center was the Control Room where the guards stayed, when not among the inmates. It also controlled all the doors and had the monitors. I was in pod A and shared a cell with a black dude named Kelvin doing six months for stealing a bottle of Jack Daniels. A lot of guys would offer to sell me things, pot and blow jobs being the most common. I had little money and what I had was in my commissary account for buying snacks and sodas. I got to know this dude Ray when we were out working the fields. An amiable person who liked to talk, Ray was a big, muscular white guy with tats on his arms and chest. He called the guys who hung around with him his “posse.” One of his posse, Mikey, was a little squirt who once offered to sell me a blow job. One thing I noticed about Ray was that he always carried a Walkman. He said the music made him forget where he was and the time went quicker. I also discovered it had another purpose, it was a lure for know-nothings like me.

One day Ray offered to loan me his Walkman and I accepted. A couple of hours later he asked for it back and I gave it to him. “That’ll be 2 packs of smokes. Kools if possible.”

“What? I don’t have any smokes. Why would I give them to you?”

Moving his face right up to mine and with his fists clenched Ray said, “Fuckwad, the Walkman’s rent is one pack per hour. Ask anyone.” Cool sociable Ray suddenly became stone cold, ready to kick ass Ray. And I knew I was no match for him, especially with his “posse” always around.

“Uh, Ray,” I stammered, “you offered to loan it to me. Anyway, I don’t have any smokes or much money in my commissary account.”

“That’s your problem, faggot. You give me 2 packs of Kools by tomorrow. Or if you have no money you can give me a blowjob. But it better be good and I gotta cum for it to count.”

Blowjob? Was this guy nuts? I wasn’t gay and never gave anyone a blowjob. “I’ll try to get your smokes, Ray.”

“Yeah, you better fuckwad.”

I managed to scrounge up enough to buy one pack of Kools from the commissary. The next day I took them to Ray, who was on pod C. “What’s this shit, pussyboy. You owe me two packs.”

“C’mon, Ray. That’s all I got. Its still a good deal for you.”

“I like you, fuckwad. Tell you what. Keep this pack of smokes. Mikey would gladly suck you off for them. Instead give me a good blowjob here and now. Or I can keep the cigs and you have two days to get me three more packs of smokes. Your choice.” Ray unzipped his pants and pulled out his big uncut cock. By now, his “posse” stopped by and were listening in along with a few other inmates from the pod who could hear what was going on. I was ready to break.

“Okay, Ray. But not here with everyone around.”

“No, faggot. Here and now. Get on your knees and suck my cock.”

I could hear the posse mocking me. “Oh, the little fag is gonna suck Ray.” “Can I have some pussyboy?” “Can’t wait to see Ray throatfuck you.” I could feel my eyes watering up. “No, I mean, I’ll get you the 3 packs of Kools.” I ran out of the Ray’s cell and headed back to my pod hearing whistling and yelling behind me. I couldn’t believe I actually agreed to put a cock in my mouth but jail makes you do things you normally wouldn’t do.

With no money and nowhere to go and seven months left I didn’t know what to do. I saw Ray everyday in the fields. He could easily kick the shit out of me and with his posse it was hard to get him alone but I decided to try. So, I thought I’d reason with Ray and if I had to I’d give him a blowjob but not on his pod with his posse and other guys around.

Two days later when working in the fields I went to Ray and asked him to meet me in a large metal shed where bags of seeds, manure and equipment are kept. There are usually guards in there so inmates don’t steal any of the tools to make a weapon. But I knew there were some places where a couple of guys could go and not be seen. I was first in the shed and and noted there was only one guard there. I watched as Ray walked in. He joked with the guard some and said he was getting some gloves so he could pull weeds. We then went to the back behind some stacks of bagged cow manure and where we couldn’t be seen. “I don’t see any smokes, shithead.” I could see Ray wasn’t to be reasoned with.

“What do I owe you?” I asked.

“Lets see, either three packs of Kools or a blowjob.”

“Ray, you know I don’t have any money or smokes.”

“So, I guess you wanted me back here to pay me with your mouth, right faggot?”

I stared at my feet and mumbled, “yeah.” Ray dropped his pants and his cock was already hard and throbbing. “On your knees, homoboy.” I fell to my knees and stared at his big cock and large hanging balls. I put my right hand on its base and slowly put it in my mouth. Ray said, “take it easy. This is my cock your sucking. And you better swallow.”

I hardly moved because Ray grabbed my head and held it tight as he thrust his hips back and forth. I gagged and choked and it was hard to breathe through my nose. Ray kept saying “yeah, suck that cock” over and over. Finally I felt a stream of warm salty fluid rushing down my throat. I gagged and wanted to spit it out but Ray held my head in a vise like grip. “Take it. Swallow it. Yeah, faggot. Yeah. That’s a good bitch.” He finally pulled his dick out of my mouth but didn’t let go of his grip. “Now listen good, bitch. You bring me two packs of smokes tomorrow or next time I’ll fuck your tight little ass. Got it?”

“But Ray you said we’d be even if I sucked you.”

“You don’t get it, cumbreath. You are my bitch. I own you. I’ll throatfuck you or assfuck you if I want.” He then let go of my head as his knee lifted up and plowed right into my chin while his right fist came down onto my left temple. I fell backwards, flat on my back tasting a mixture of Ray’s cum and my own blood in my mouth. Ray laughed as he walked away saying, “two or screw its up to you.” I was beat, humiliated and scared. I just lay there in the dirt, crying, and didn’t know what to do.

For the next few weeks I avoided Ray. I didn’t have any smokes and sure didn’t want to be his fuck toy. Anyway, even if I gave him two packs of Kools, he’d find something else to “charge” me for. Ray didn’t seem to be looking for me and none of his posse came to my pod asking about me. I just tried to keep a low profile, even faked being sick to get into the infirmary. I also put in a request to have a different job. Finally, I got word that I was being assigned to the kitchen.

On my third day working in the kitchen I was washing dishes when I realized that I was there alone, which made me uncomfortable. To leave the kitchen I had to walk through a short and narrow passageway into the main dining hall. As I entered the passageway I felt a push and something go over my head as I went to floor in darkness. “Shut the fuck up, pussyboy” said a familiar voice. But there were other voices too and I could feel someone holding me down. Suddenly, I felt my shoes being taken off and my pants and boxers being stripped off. “No, stop” I screamed.

“Mikey, get the tape and shut that motherfucker up” came an order from Ray. The tarp covering me was pulled up and I could see Ray and three of his posse standing over me. Mikey, the smallest one, had some duct tape which he put over my eyes. He then stuffed my boxers into my mouth and put tape over that and around my head.

“What did I tell you, faggot? You didn’t pay and tried to run away from me. Now, we’re gonna take your virgin ass.” I heard the flick of a lighter and smelled a cigarette burning. Next I felt a stinging burn on my right butt cheek. I could hear the sizzle of my skin burning and tried to scream out but couldn’t. Seven times I felt the burning into my flesh. “Jayson, do your thing now.” With that I felt something going up my ass. Then I felt a rush of cold water fill my gut. “Okay enough. Let it out douchebag. I don’t want your shit on my dick.” Here I am lying on the floor with one guy holding each arm and Ray holding my legs with a dishwasher hose up my ass. Jay pulled the hose out and the water burst out of my insides onto the floor. “Ah, nice and clean and ready to be fucked. What do we have here? A can of lard. Boys, the faggot is going to be real lardass today.” They all started laughing. I then felt something even stranger. Someone reached under me and put something around my balls. “Look, he likes that” I heard Mikey say. Next I felt something probing my asshole then AHHHHH I began screaming as Ray plowed his fat dick into my rectum. But my screams stayed in my throat, nothing came out. “A nice tight ass. Just how I like it,” Ray mocked. Then came a horrific pain as my balls started to hurt like someone was squeezing them. The pain was unbearable as I struggled and tried to scream. “Yeah, baby, squeal like a pig. C’mon feel my meat, is that good for you,” I heard Ray saying. More pain in my balls, “yeah, move those hips. Hee Haw! Bust that bronco. Payday, bitch!” I could feel excruciating pain in my ass and my balls. I could feel Ray slow down while his breathing became faster. Finally I felt the warm cum inside my bowels and it was over. “Was that as good for you as it was for me, faggot?” Ray mocked. Then came the water again.

“Jayson, your turn.” Oh no, I thought. I’m going to be gang raped and probably killed right here on this floor.

“I get to fuck you now, bitch,” Jayson whispered in my ear. I could smell the lard. With that I felt another dick forced up my ass and my insides tearing up. My eyes were burning from tears mixed with duct tape glue. My throat was raw from trying to scream. “Ride that bronc! Yeow!” More pain in my balls. It seemed like Jayson was inside me for an hour before he shot his load. I was nearly passed out but I heard “Mikey, turn the fucking water on. I’m not doing sloppy thirds.” That was Lonnie’s voice. More water than another dick in my ass and it was the biggest. Lonnie whispered in my ear, “you like it, my 10” of meat, dontchya girlie. Nothing but a little pussy. You gonna be our little bitch forever, aren’t you.” By now my balls were numb, I couldn’t feel a thing. My insides felt like they were on fire. When Lonnie finished I was near dead. I had nothing left inside. I figured Mikey would be last but I don’t know if he was. I passed out.

The next thing I knew I woke up in a hospital. Eventually, I was told what had happened. Ray and his posse had tied fishing line around my balls. Everytime they pulled the line I felt the pain and would struggle by bucking my hips. What they called “bronco busting.” The problem is the line cut right through my scrotum and severed my cords. I lost a lot of blood and nearly died. The doctors cut out the remaining tissue, meaning the remainder of my scrotum and testicles. I woke up castrated and with no scrotum, just a dick with a line of stitches beneath. Additionally, my larynx suffered severe damage when I was trying to scream and to this day my voice is raspy. I had severe tears in my anus and rectum and had to wear a colostomy bag for six months before I was healed enough to be hooked back up. The tears to my rectum and anus occasionally bother me, 25 years later. And that burning on my ass? Ray burned a smiley face on my right butt cheek with a cigarette. Its still there today. I take testosterone and can have erections and sex but I am a eunuch. I never married and the few women I have been with dump me fairly quick when they learn I have no balls.

I spent three weeks in the hospital and completed my sentence at home. Nobody from the jail or courthouse ever bothered to apologize or even see me. I was given a generous settlement, but that’s all. As for Ray and his posse? No charges were ever filed.