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I been finding prison stories intriguing lately. Prison Rape
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| Desiderata |
**WARNING**
May be NSFW !
This story is fact. It details my experiences about being raped, my sexual slavery and beatings. I wrote it with EXTREME honesty, meaning: it’s graphic. If you don’t wish to read something that’s very graphic, please move on. No hard feelings.
Hi PTO. This is Sam. Well, actually, Jason is typing this out for me, but it’s my story. I needed him to type this out, as he is much better at computers than I am. But rest assured, this is my story, and my experiences.
What I am about to tell you is extremely personal. It’s an experience that I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to go through, and it’s a story that I wish was fiction. Warning, at times, this story will be graphic.
This is EXTREMELY hard for me to talk about. Although I welcome ALL comments, both negative and positive, please keep in mind that this is very personal.
Jason had to practically BEG for me to talk about this with him and he had to do even more to convince me to post this. So why am I telling you all this? Because I want everyone to know the truth about what really goes on in prison. Hopefully, some of you can learn from my mistakes and experiences.
I am going to do this in parts, as it’s a VERY long story. In it, I will describe my feelings, the rapes, the beatings, the inmates, what I did to deserve it, what I DIDN’T do to deserve it, the COs , the Warden, the Sexual Slavery… all of it. Some of you may not want to read this, as parts of it will be extremely graphic. If you have young kids in the area of the computer, DO NOT READ THIS.
Although I strongly suggest educating the youth on issues like these so they can avoid prison; THIS STORY WAS NOT WRITTEN with a PG rating. See what I’m getting at? The content is WAY TOO strong for younger readers.
VERY FEW guys are willing to talk about this subject, let alone admit they were victims. This will be a rare insight for most of you, and this is my way of “giving thanks” for the life I have now. I hope some of you will have a better understanding of the “hidden, unspoken” lives most of the inmates in prison have to deal with everyday.
Okay, here we go.
PART ONE:
I was raped.
That’s all that kept racing through my mind. How did I get to this point? My God, I never thought I would ever end up in prison; I never thought my life would take this turn, never thought I would get raped, forced into a life (if you can call it that) of sexual slavery, physical abuse, drug use and ultimately triumphing, and coming around 180 degrees. This is my story.
By the time I turned 15, I had heard all the stories. I watched all the movies, heard all the tales from my father, and heard all the rumors from my friends… prison was hell. In the movies and in the news, I always heard about guys getting raped in the shower, guys getting “shanked” in the mess hall by some guy that looked at him the wrong way. I had heard rumors about prisoners being savagely beaten by guards; that the warden had a “special” room where he tortured inmates. I had heard stories about little boys (like 6 years old) being put in prison with adults, where they would get raped and be the “pleasure boy” for every single inmate in the prison.
“Just stories”. I said to myself. I knew all of them couldn’t be true. But at 15, I didn’t really know. What I did know, was that, if these stories WERE true, who cared? The prisoners in prison deserved it. They hurt people; murdered children, raped children, stole from old people, stole from companies, and started fires. All of society, and myself included, could care less if these “animals” (inmates) got raped or hurt in prison. They deserved it.
Little did I know that in 4 years, I would eat those words.
So, when the judge slammed down that gavel, and sentenced me to 8 years in prison, I cried. How could this be? Was my crime really that bad? I didn’t want to go to prison! Prison was for animals! I never, ever hurt anyone! I was young (19), I was thin, I had a medium build, but I was not strong, and worst of all…. I had never been in a fight in my life. There was no way I was going to be able to defend myself. I was doomed.
That night, I cried. I never cried so much in my life.
I will keep some of the details (such as location and names) vague, however, I was sent to a prison in New England. I was in the processing center for roughly 2 weeks.
I thought to myself, “This isn’t so bad”. Boy, was I wrong. You see, since I had never been in prison before, I thought THIS was it. Even though the COs explained to me that this was just the processing center where they evaluate the inmates, I was convinced that the rest of the prison was this way. The Center was clean, and believe it or not, the inmates AND the COs were sort of (sort of!) friendly. Everyone now says that the processing center is the WORST time because you could be a check forger (like me), and be sitting next to a murderer. However, where I was, it was very nice (well, as nice as a prison can be). After two weeks, I was move into the General Population. Oh My God. My hell starts here.
The first week, no one even spoke to me. During chow time, I could feel people staring at me, as if they were watching me, trying to figure me out. My celly was a quiet guy, but gave me the creeps. He also didn’t say anything to me the first few days. He could tell that I was scared out of my mind. I didn’t know anyone there… I was alone, I was frightened, and soon enough, I was property.
After my 4th day there, my celly, whom we’ll call ‘Tom”, spoke to me. He asked me how I was holding up. I told him that I was really nervous and scared. (You see? The first thing I ever say, and it was a mistake!). He nodded, and agreed that prison could be very scary. He, himself was scary. He was HUGE. He was white, and stood around 6’ 3” tall. He must have weighed around 250 lbs. Me? I was 5’ 4”, and I weighed about 130lbs. Tom had short dark hair, no facial hair, and looked like he was about 35, maybe 30. (I’m a bad judge of age).
That same day, he offered me some snacks that he horded. I gladly accepted his offer and quickly woofed down two small bags of Oreo cookies. The next day, he seemed much more friendlier. He asked me where I was from, all those kinds of questions. I was relived to find out that he was from the same area I was, and I was happy that I now had someone to talk to. We chatted away about girls, food, the crimes that we did, girls, food, which COs were good (and bad), girls, food, and girls. It seemed that Tom was in prison for vehicular manslaughter (which was a lie I found out much later), He enjoyed baseball, and he had a wife and one son. I told him the truth about me (mistake). I was single, I didn’t have any family to speak of, but I had some money left over from a relative’s death. I told him why I was in prison, and that I hoped to make parole when ever I came up for it. He offered me some more snacks, and some drinks, again, I gladly accepted. Prison food was horrible! At least these Oreo cookies didn’t have bugs in them!
That night, he asked me if anyone had bothered me yet. I told him no, not yet. I also said that “I don’t think anyone will, I just want to mind my own business and do my time as quickly as I can.” He said that there were a few guys that were looking at me, and he “sensed” (another lie, he actually knew for a fact) that they might start trouble with me.
I got scared.
END OF PART 1. |
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| Desiderata |
PART TWO:
Okay, where was I?
Oh yeah, I was scared.
It wasn’t the type of “good fear”, you know, like when you watch a horror movie, and the monster jumps out at you. You know that you’re safe, just not that dumb actor who INSISTS on going BACK into the house where the killer was.
No, this fear is different. Yes, there are monsters, but these monsters have names; Tom.
Tom had just told me that he’s pretty sure that someone wants “a piece of me”; meaning someone either wants to rape me, or beat me up. Either way, I didn’t like it. I am new here! What do I do? I don’t have any friends, and the COs had a hard enough time getting me some soap; I could imagine how unsupportive they would be if I told them I think someone wanted to hurt me.
So, that night, I stayed awake, my mind racing. How would I defend myself? Why did this person want to hurt me? I didn’t even talk to anyone yet, how could someone be mad at me already?
“Thank-God for Tom” is all I could think of. He gave me a ‘heads’ up, he obviously is looking out for me. He’s a big guy too, maybe he’ll protect me.
That was my train of thought. Oh how wrong I was!
Tom must have sensed that I was scared out of my pants; he must have heard me tossing and turning and even vomiting twice. In the morning, he approached me.
“You okay?” he asked, sheepishly. “Didn’t get much sleep, eh?”
I replied with a ‘no’. I was hoping he’d offer some help, I didn’t really want to ask.
“You’ll be fine” he said, and then left.
“S**T” I said. He didn’t offer to help me. What do I do? I’ll have to ask. I think I can trust him.
I never got the chance to ask that morning, an attack came swift and painful.
Tom had already left the cell and I was finishing up a letter, and I was about to make my bed, when two guys entered my cell.
This horrible feeling of dread came over me. “I’m done” is all I could think of.
“Hey rich boy” the first inmate said. “Let’s party”. And that was the only thing either one ever said to me.
Both of them were pretty big, especially compared to me. Before I could run out of the cell, Inmate “A” pushed me to the ground. He flipped me on my back, and straddled my chest, while kneeling on both of my wrists. I was pinned to the ground, but my legs were free. Inmate “B”, ripped off my pants spread my legs, and held them down and apart. Inmate “A” then opened his pants, and tried to put his **** in my mouth.
I refused to open my mouth.
Inmate “B” then took a pen and told me if I didn’t open up my mouth, and let his friend face f**k me, this pen was going to rip open my intestines. To demonstrate, he shoved the pen into my rectum and forcefully pushed it in further, losing the entire pen and his fingertips inside me.
I screamed, it hurt so bad. He left it in there for what seemed like hours (but was probably only seconds) and then pulled it out. He then repeated what he said before. This time, I complied. I sucked off his friend. After he was done, he urinated in my mouth, and then he slapped me in the face. The two got off of me and Inmate A said that if I told anyone, I would suffer worse.
They left.
I stayed on that hard cement floor for 30 minutes, crying. I was bleeding from my rectum, but it wasn’t too bad. I expected there to be more blood. I then stood up, and cleaned myself up.
I sat on my bed, and huddled in the corner. I couldn’t stop crying. I rocked back and forth, back and forth.
I stole some checks, stole some money, and broke into 3 houses. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. My life was becoming like one of those prison movies. I was supposed to go eat breakfast, but I didn’t want to leave my cell. What happens if those men are out there? Would they do it again? Would more people join in?
Oh My God. I had no idea what to do.
So, I did one of the worst things imaginable.
I told one of the Correctional Officers.
You see, in the outside world, woman are supposed to, and even encouraged to tell the police if someone hurts them. Granted, many times the woman isn’t treated very nicely from the police after reporting a rape, but it’s nothing like the inside of a prison.
Being new to the prison system, I had no idea I shouldn’t have reported a sexual assault. I knew all about “snitches” but I thought a “snitch” was someone who told a CO about drugs or other illegal activities. I didn’t know you weren’t even allowed to tell a CO about an attack on yourself. This was crazy! Who was going to protect me?
Anyway, I told a CO about my attack.
He said that he would investigate, and get back to me. It seemed like they were handling it properly, and I was (almost) satisfied that justice would be served.
Wrong again.
END PART TWO. |
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| Big Worm |
wow.
not sure how to respond... i hope you feel better for getting it out in the open, as this was very hard to read.
i'm sorry you had to experience this. please get help from a professional counselor. |
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| Desiderata |
| quote: | Originally posted by Big Worm
wow.
not sure how to respond... i hope you feel better for getting it out in the open, as this was very hard to read.
i'm sorry you had to experience this. please get help from a professional counselor. |
Yeah, real funny. I'll never go to the big house. |
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| Big Worm |
| dude, was this all a figment of your imagination? |
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| srussell0018 |
| He clearly wrote that it's not about him. |
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| Big Worm |
| quote: | Originally posted by srussell0018
He clearly wrote that it's not about him. |
he said it was his story |
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| srussell0018 |
| He made a thread about FINDING prison stories and then quoted one. |
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| itsamemario |
I made it nearly through part 2. This is clearly bull. I sense no credibility in the story at all, and it's all just written in a un-believable way. The characters talk like they were in cheesy porn or b-movies, and it neither feels like someone is telling the story, nor does it feel like someone is telling the story to someone "whos better at computers" or whatever the pre-excuse for the ty writing claimed. The part about the pen was exceptionally poorly written, and the guy is clearly ignorant when it comes to human anatomy.
This isn't a factual encounter, this is poorly written rape-porn. |
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| Spacey Orange |
| OP is trying to get custody of a toddler? |
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| itsamemario |
| quote: | Originally posted by Spacey Orange
OP is trying to get custody of a toddler? |
You're thinking of IGK |
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| Desiderata |
Not about me and not sure about the credibility of the story either.
It's just a love letter for the sick inmate, pretty pretty !!
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