Now before I get too far into this, you need to know I wasn’t a scrawny guy. Before getting sent to the slammer, I used to work out at the gym and box. Plus, I had a part-time job as a furniture mover with a local company.Īt any rate, the rape happened after I was assigned to the Maintenance Shop. When the correctional officers weren’t present, two of the LKs cornered me near the doorway. It was obvious what they wanted because the jerks kept making comments about showing them my backside. When I told them no, one of them pulled out a piece of rebar and clobbered me across the face.Įverything after that is a blur. Sometime later, I woke up in a closet, which in prison is called “the cut”. That’s slang for being out of sight from the cameras. The blood rushing from my temple didn’t bother me. But what did freak me out was the white stuff oozing from my behind and streaked across my face.Īfter wiping myself off with a sock, I got up and felt super dizzy. Once I finally made it to the main hallway, a guard spotted me and asked what happened. I lied and told him that I’d slipped and bumped my head. Seconds later, I found myself in the prison’s infirmary, receiving emergency medical attention.īut I kept my mouth shut. Had I snitched on the two LK’s that had assaulted me, I wouldn’t be here to share my story with you now.
That’s because, in prison, inmates who tattle don’t live very long.Īnd I wish I could tell you this was the only time I was raped but it wasn’t. It’s like word gets around, you know? Prison is a very dark place Cornered in the bathroom You see after it happens one time, it will happen multiple times. The next incident happened around one month into my sentence. I was on my way to a Christian Worship group when four LKs stopped me near the bathroom.
I recognized two of them because they were the same bastards who had assaulted me before.īut the other two – they were new. Well, not “new” but certainly inmates I had never encountered. I’m guessing now but I’d lay odds they were in their middle to late thirties.
Sensing something was about to go down, I tried to get away. That’s when one of them pushed me into the bathroom. Then three of them stepped inside while one guy watched the door. If you think I could have screamed, think again. One of the LK’s had a shank pushed up against my neck and told me straight out that if I made a sound, he would cut my throat and watch me bleed out. I won’t go into graphic detail except to say that that the older of the group – and biggest – rustled me over to a sink. That’s when he grabbed me by my hair, bent me over and ruthlessly shoved his you know what up my behind. I tried not to make sounds, but the pain was excruciating. Worried that I’d call attention what was happening, the thug yanked me up again by my hair and span me around. That’s when another one of the LK’s forced his junk in my mouth.įrom there, it was a merry-go-round. While one stood lookout, the other three ruthlessly did their thing. It was like watching wild jackals at a feeding frenzy, giggling and laughing the whole time like it was no big deal. I can still see flashes of my face in that bathroom mirror as all of this happened. Over the course of a six-month period, incidents like the one described above occurred several other times. In fact, I got so sick of being raped that I decided to do something about it. Long story short, I decided to work with prosecutors on several drug-related cases and provide actionable information. In return, I was moved to a minimum-security prison camp facility. Not to get into the weeds but prison camps offer much a different environment than penitentiaries. To this day, I still have flashbacks of being raped by male gangs who thought nothing forcing themselves inside me. I sincerely hope you never have to do time. If you do, your best bet is to try and go to a prison camp and not a penitentiary. Not that men aren’t raped at the camps because it can happen. But it didn’t happen to me there and it’s my understanding things like that are infrequent.