There are many things that people don't want to hear and close to the top of the list is - Judge: "You've been found guilty."
Unlike many people in prison, I was guilty; charged and convicted with 'Pointing a firearm,' 6 months jail or $5,000.
I'd been hired to renovate a vacant farmhouse and was allowed to live in the house while construction was underway. One evening, a group of teenagers egged the house and when it happened again, two nights later, I called the police.
The local cop told me officially that she would investigate, but said the kids were from prominent families and charges would be unlikely. The house was egged the next Friday and Saturday nights.
During the reno, I came across a gun and was going to inform the police, but one thing led to another and I failed to do so. On a Thursday evening, the teens returned and not only egged the house, but threw a gas bomb that missed the house, but burned down a tree.
I ran down the stairway and on a table by the door, sat the gun, which I grabbed and showed to the carload of teens. I'd never shot a gun before and when I raised it in the air, my finger touched the trigger and a round exploded out.
Hours later, I was in the local jail, with the possibility of being charged with 'Possession of a prohibited weapon with ammunition,' 12 months jail or $5,000. The Crown Attorney had convinced the families to charge me with the lesser offence of Pointing a firearm and my lawyer said if I would probably end up with a $1,000 fine.
A week before my sentencing, there was a mass shooting in the USA and a shooting in Canada as well. Whether this affected my sentencing or not would be a guess, but I ended up with the maximum penalty of 6 months in jail.
The first two weeks of confinement was pure hell and it was difficult to adjust to life in prison. There were gangs involved in drugs and groups of predators that preyed on others. Avoiding the drug dealers and gang members was fairly easy, but the predators were a different story. They worked in packs of two or more and were to be avoided at all costs.
My cell partner, Phil, was into his third year of confinement and we bonded well and agreed to look out for each other. This involved eating at the same table and showering at the same time. The predators normally focused on one person and left a pair or more alone.
One evening, Phil decided not to shower and I'd been working all day in the wood-shop and a shower would have felt like heaven. I was standing under the water, soaping my body and when I turned a six-foot-two muscle man was leaning against the wall (Gene) and several feet away stood a black man (Carl), even more muscular than his partner.
"This can go easy, or not so easy. Your choice."
"C'mon guys. I'm here for a short time, I'm straight and I don't want any trouble."
Carl said, "Kneel and suck my cock and there won't be any trouble."
I've seen prison movies where fighting back earns you respect, but from my cellmate, fighting back earns you a beating and then you have to do what they want.
I'd seen a few guys who were turned into sex slaves and I didn't want to be one of those and I ran towards the guy by the wall, swinging my arm and grazing his jaw as he moved at the last instant.
An arm the size of a tree trunk went around my neck and the other guy stepped my way and punched the air out of my gut. Tears filled my eyes as I gasped for breath, falling to my knees as I thought I was about to die.
Finally, a breath of oxygen filled my lungs and through blurry wetness, I saw a towel drop and a semi-hard cock appear. I gasped in a few more breaths while my eyes cleared and brought into focus a thick, dark-skinned uncut cock.
"Now, kiss my balls or get the shit kicked out of you," he said.
I looked up to Carl and knew there was only one way I would be able to walk out of here. I leaned slowly, the scent of him becoming stronger and stronger. My lips first touched the hair growing from his sac, next the sac itself and finally one of his balls.
"Kiss it over and over and then the other one until I tell you to stop."
His testicles were large and my lips slid over his wrinkly sac, kissing one testicle and then the other, over and over. It felt so incredibly weird to kiss another man's balls and I found myself drawing in deep breaths and letting his scent waft through me.
He laughed lightly and a rush of embarrassment swirled through me.
"Lick them. Lick the sweat from my balls."
I had tasted a hint of his skin from my kisses and that hint exploded when my tongue dragged across one ball and then the other. I stopped in shock when I noticed that my hand had slid up the back of his leg and a sigh escaped from me.
"What the fuck. You're enjoying this," and he pressed my head lightly, guiding me to the other side of his sac.
"Suck one into your mouth," he ordered.
It was so big and I felt the need to be ultra gentle with it. My other hand reached around to the back of his other leg and I struggled to suppress a sigh but failed.
"Mmmmm," and my cheeks flushed red.
Carl said to his partner. "I think we've discovered a closeted fag."
"A natural," the man said and then snickered.
"I wonder if he likes white ones as much as black ones?"
He guided my head back, letting his ball slip from my mouth with a plopping sound.
"Crawl to him and do the same; kiss, lick and suck on his balls."
I crawled to Gene, his cock was cut, thick and flaccid.
"Apologize for taking a swing at me," he said.
"Sorry," I replied.
"A week ago, I'd asked Phil if you were straight or gay and he promised that you were straight. I'm having doubts about that and if Phil lied, there are consequences."
"I promise. I'm straight. I've never been with another guy in my life."
