A Whole New World Part 8 Read Count : 16

Category : Blogs

Sub Category : Motivation
On his fourth day at The Rock, Carl woke up at four in the morning. It was the day where he and the other eleven newcomers would be facing another new change in their lives. He packed up all his belongings; his bed linen, two sets of prison uniform, along with the other essential items he was supplied with when he first arrived at the transit dorm, and put them all in a single pillowcase. Once done, he and the other newbies formed a line outside the cells of the transit dorm, ready in wait for the next order. Looking at all the other eleven guys, he noticed that every one of them had very little belongings with them just like him. 

For the past three days in the transit dorm, he had busied himself learning the ropes. He learned everything he needed to learn and know that would help him to move around and survive in there. He learned about all the administrative details of doing time there; where he should go for medical assistance, or in case at some point if he needed it, where he can go for psychology consultation and treatment. He also studied the layout of the prison; where the laundry room was, where the recreation yard was, the library, and of course, he was already familiar with where the chowhall was located. He paid special attention to note what was expected of him as far as his movements and behavior were concerned. He learned that he was able to report matters if he was being abused or threatened by other inmates, and he also learned of the consequences he would face should he violate any of the details outlined to him by the rules and regulations of the institution. He also found out there were several volumes of books available in the Law Library outlining all the administrative rules of procedure and he made a mental note to read up on them if and when he gets the opportunity. He figured since he was going to be stuck in the system for a long time, it would only be in his best interest to make sure that he stayed on the straight and narrow, obey all the rules and to stay out of trouble. 

The twelve newbies from the transit dorm were marched down to the Visitation Park where they were each given their permanent dorm assignment. Carl was both excited and nervous at the same time. The thought of moving to a permanent dorm and having a new cellmate excited him. At the same time, the thought of being part of the general population of the prison society made him jittery and nervous. 

For the past three days, he had heard all kinds of horror stories of what to expect in that place - the rapes and robberies, fights and beatings, and even murders. He initially thought they were nothing more than tall tales made up just to mess with the newbies and to keep them in line, but he paid attention and listened wholeheartedly anyway. He was as green and naive as they come. Having gone through his young life wearing rose tinted glasses, he really had no frame of reference to assimilate the type and level of violence that really existed in that place. 

Leaving the Visitation Park with his belongings and new dorm assignment in hand, he got back in line with the rest of the guys and they were escorted down the road to the South East Unit. When he entered the dorm, he found there was not much movement there. It was just after five in the morning and though everyone was up, that early in the day, most of the guys were still in their own orbit; their own head space. 

Each dorm was divided into sections known as quads. There were four quads in every dorm with 70 inmates housed in each quad and the living arrangement was two inmates per cell. As he was escorted to his new cell, he noticed a large room which had a colour television set. 

"This is the TV room. Inmates in the quad can come here and watch some TV at certain hours of the day." 

The information supplied by the guard made Carl smile inwardly. He was glad to know that he at least wouldn't be robbed of having some form of entertainment during his time there. The guard also informed him that he was allowed to have a personal AM/FM/Walkman radio which he could purchase from the prison canteen. 

"How much does it cost?" Carl asked. Radio would be a useful tool to have to keep his sanity in there. 

"Twenty five bucks, excluding batteries." 

"Twenty five, huh?" 

"Yeah. And you'd need to get headphones too. You're only allowed to listen to it through headphones." 

"How much for the headphones?" 

"Eight bucks." 

Carl was silent and felt crestfallen. With zero income at the moment, he would have to wait quite a while before he can purchase a radio and headphones for himself. 

When he was shown to his cell, he saw that there was already an older white guy in there. He put his measly belongings on the available bunk then turned to introduce himself to his new cellmate who in turn introduced himself as "Sparky". 

Sparky had close cropped salt and pepper hair, dancing eyes, an infectious grin and a body that resembled the shape of a spark plug. He was a smooth and easy talker and charismatic in his own sparkly way. Carl summed up that was probably how he got the nickname "Sparky". The name fit him to a T; from his electrifying personality right down to the funky shape of his body. Another thing he learned in there was that everyone had their own unique nickname. For example, anyone like him whose height is 5 feet 5 inches and below are all nicknamed "Shorty". Not exactly a nickname he would be proud to wear but until he can show that he was more than just another short guy, he was stuck to being called "Shorty". 

He and Sparky spent quite a bit of time getting acquainted that morning. They sat together at chow hall and over breakfast Sparky asked him questions about himself and his family. To have someone to communicate with, share his concerns and fears with felt like a God send to Carl. He talked and talked while Sparky listened attentively. 

After breakfast and count time, the day seemed to fly for Carl. He reported to the Inside Grounds job after count, where he spent the morning raking leaves and picking up rubbish on the compound grounds. It is the policy in Florida that Maximum Security inmates work only inside the fences with armed guards supervising them at all times. And inmates working Inside Grounds jobs were not paid anything but he didn't mind. He was happy to have something to do. 

In the afternoon, he went to school. Being a school dropout, he only went as far as the 8th grade and never made it to high school. In the prison system in Florida, it was mandatory schooling for those without a high school diploma so he had no choice but to attend classes in prison as he was required to get his GED. Despite dropping out of school, he was looking forward and excited about getting a second chance at getting his education even if it was not in the ideal environment. 

When he got back to the dorm after the evening meal, he felt drained. Everyone had gone to the recreation yard so the dorm was quite empty. He thought it would be a good time for him to hit the shower before everyone got back as he would have more privacy and not have to wait in line for the shower. He grabbed his towel, soap, shampoo, a fresh change of boxers, T-shirt and blue pants and headed to the shower room. 

The shower was an open room with six shower heads sticking out of the back wall. There were no dividers between the showers which left him feeling pretty vulnerable but since the shower room was empty, he did his best to remain calm even though deep down inside he was feeling nervous and afraid. He tried to shake off his fear by thinking of a favourite song. He was slowly humming the tunes of "Your Love Is King" when a few guys came into the shower. He immediately stopped humming and did his best not to look at the guys. They threw their stuff on the wall opposite the shower and he began to feel self conscious of his nakedness. He tried to appear calm and not bothered by the sudden intrusion of his privacy but when a few more guys walked in, he couldn't keep up the act any longer. He was at the shower that was closest to the door and he wanted to run out, yet, at the same time, he didn't want to show those men that he was afraid. That was the beginning of the many masks he had learned to put on in prison - calm on the outside, shaking like Shakin' Stevens on the inside. 

He was soaping his body and working up a lather when two of the guys came closer to him. One stood next to him, the other stood next to the first guy. He continued soaping himself, moving up the speed, trying to appear casual at the same time. 

The slap, when it came, was a total shocker as it came totally unexpected. The speed and the power of the blow knocked him to the floor. He was completely caught off guard and was in a daze. His ears rang from the sudden blow of the very hard slap across his face. It wasn't until he was shown a crazy looking homemade knife did he realize that all the stories he had heard were indeed true. 

Looking back, he remembered seeing a button float in the water along the wall beneath the showers making its way into the drain. It had a tiny piece of thread trailing behind it. However, he wasn't aware when the two other guys came into the picture. He turned and tried to get up from the floor but he was kicked in the side which sent him sprawling back onto the floor. Wincing in pain, he noticed three other guys standing nearby, completely naked. One of them handed another guy a jar of Murray's Hair Grease and he began stroking himself with it, making his huge member glisten in full erection. 

Carl was in complete shock that he was unable to move. The men must have noticed the tell-tale sign on his face and seized the opportunity to make their move. They moved in unison like a well perfected choreography. One of the men grabbed Carl's head in both his hands, which magnified his fear. He began to silently pray at this point as the seriousness of the situation began to dawn on him in earnest. He believed God had answered his prayer because even though the pain of the forced penetration was incredible, his mind had kind of slipped into a daze and didn't remember much of the pain, or the shame and the embarrassment of being raped in an open shower by two chain-gang members; Low Blow and Diamond Red. 

In prison, that kind of rape was called "running a train" and Carl wasn't even sure how long the torment lasted. The burning pain in his anus made him feel like the ordeal went on forever. Low Blow and Diamond Red took turns fucking him while Luka Bazooka held onto his head to keep him still. Once they both had unloaded their sex juice inside him, they washed up and took off, leaving Tiny Tim behind with him. 

Tiny Tim was a huge Latino guy built like a linebacker. After the other guys took off, he helped Carl to the toilet and watched him squirt cum-dripping shit into the bowl. He then helped him back to the shower so he could wash himself. When he was satisfied that Carl could stand on his own, he took off without saying a word. 

Left alone in the shower room, Carl let the tears flow freely. He stood underneath the shower for a long time, feeling the need to wash away the pain and shame that had enveloped him. He felt dirty and used like damaged goods and anger rose inside him. 
All kinds of scenarios ran in his head. He thought about buying a contraband knife or paying someone to get it for him, he thought about paying someone to kill them, a whole string of crazy ideas formed in his head. But in the end, he didn't do shit. He dried off, got dressed, walked gingerly back to his cell and climbed into his bed. 

Carl began to change after the incident in the shower room. He didn't talk much and pretty much kept to himself. Sparky tried to get him to talk about his sudden change but he remained silent. His spirit was broken the evening he was raped in the shower room. At the time it happened, he didn't realize that the rape was nothing more than a sick test. Those men were just feeling him out to see if they could turn him in a punk. Having a "punk boy" in prison was a big deal as it was a show of prestige and power, as sick and twisted as it may sound, but that was the mentality of the predators in chain-gangs in prison. 

It was months later that Carl learned the awful truth; the entire incident had been carefully planned and choreographed, all the way down to who would stay after to pretend to be concerned. He was shocked to learn the truth and felt deeply ashamed especially when he knew that the word had already gone out. It was only a matter of time before other predators came sniffing around him with crude come ons. He was being hassled at every turn. He could have retaliated, he could have reported them but he chose to show them that he wasn't weak. He bide his time and began to strategize his moves. 

He continued to stay in the same dorm, in the same cell for the next three months and focused on his studies. He was determined to complete his education. The day he got his GED, that was the day he ran to ask for a "Check-In". 

Check-In was the derogatory term for inmates who seeked for protection in solitary confinement where they would be pulled out of the general population. These inmates were referred to more explicitly as "Pussy Ass Check-Ins". The institutional term was Protective Custody or Protective Management. 

Carl simply couldn't take the pressure anymore. He was hassled daily by predators of different chain-gangs forcing him to choose someone he'd want to "belong" to. The code was: Fuck, Fight, or Check-In. At that time, he didn't know shit about fighting and he sure as hell didn't ever want to get fucked again. He feared for his life so the only option he had left was to Check-In. And he did. For the next three years, he lived in solitary confinement under Protective Custody, safely tucked away from the predators and from the general population.

Racing hormones is a natural occurrence for any teenaged boy. The eagerness to explore sexual intercourse with the girl of their choice is also something teenaged boys like Carl would look forward to. Carl was your typical teenage boy. He had his dreams and fantasies. He wanted to explore the sacred union of two bodies, to experience the soft, warm and wet portal that promises a heavenly high. But the opportunity had never presented itself to him. He went into prison as a virgin. To be brutally raped by  two chain-gang members on the wet floor of an open shower room.... that was not an experience Carl ever thought would happen to him. But it did. Having been sexually molested as a child, that incident in the shower room opened up old wounds for him. I certainly don't blame him for seeking protection. To me, he made the right move.

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  • groce

    Sep 06, 2020

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