My Life Behind Bars Pt. 01

Warning: This is a fictional story that deals with non-con themes as a young man comes to terms with - and ultimately enjoys - his new life in prison.

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Chapter 1: Turned Out

The strangeness 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 officer's stern voice brought me harshly back to reality. 'You are being charged with DUI - your third strike.'

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 here I was still alive - relatively unscathed - to take responsibility. The winded feeling in my stomach suddenly became overpowering, 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 judge told me he had no choice, it was my third time in the dock - he had no choice but to impose a hefty maximum sentence. I couldn't believe it. I was a good person, but my drinking had gotten out of hand and now I was facing the prospect of losing the next decade - at least - 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; 20 years. 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 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 at that moment I didn't care.

Twenty years!

It ran over and over in my head. 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 led 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 were 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 were 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 dreadlocks. 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 demeanour 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 by 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 through my nose as Reese brought the blade close up to my eyeball. 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 - Its heaviness swung lightly back and forth 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 me 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 ever 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 at 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, its new resting state was far from the tightly puckered muscle it had been before. I felt it relax to an open sag with a loud fart passing its 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 onto 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.