The Institution 1

By Pueros

Chapter 1 – Injustices

(A certain city in the north of a certain state of the U.S.A. – April 2001)

It was a cold overcast windy day. Richard, Rich to his widowed mother and friends, was walking down the deserted inner-city street in one of the poorest parts of the metropolis in which he lived. It was a quiet Sunday morning and, as usual, the pretty blue-eyed blonde-haired 14 years old was on his way early to church, where he was a member of the choir. Unfortunately, he never reached that veritable institution but was eventually destined to end up at another that was the pathway to hell not heaven.

Rich heard a commotion ahead and suddenly saw another teenager running out of a store, gun in one gloved hand and a stash of cash in the other. The shopkeeper quickly followed, now also armed. However, the man was too slow in taking aim as the young thief, fearful for his own life, fired first, felling his victim with a bullet between the eyes.

Rich was appalled and terrified at watching the dreadful scene and wondered what to do as the young criminal ran towards him. “Get out of the way,” the murderer screamed as he approached, “or you’ll get it too!” The 14 years old stood to one side, as if in compliance, but, as the other teenager was passing, the boy stuck out a leg to bring the malefactor crashing to the ground.

Rich, never short of guts, an attribute that had caused the bullies at his High School to steer well clear of him, immediately leapt on top of the young criminal, who had spilt his gun and his ill-gotten loot. A short struggle ensued but the other teenager did not fight fairly. As the sound of police sirens resounded nearby, the murderer kneed his opponent in the groin. The 14 years old, temporarily agonised and winded, immediately released his hold on the murderer, who quickly jumped to his feet and, having been unable to spot instantly where his gun had landed, ran off towards a side alley on the other side of the street. He allowed the monetary product of his crime to blow away in the strong wind.

Rich writhed on the pavement for a short time, clutching his hurting genitalia, until partial recovery was achieved. As the boy was slowly regaining his feet, he noticed that the young criminal’s discarded gun was lying in the nearby gutter. Without hesitation, the 14 years old picked up the weapon and started off in pursuit of the murderer. Unfortunately, a police car, siren blazing, chose that moment to screech round a corner and came to a halt to cut off his progress to the alleyway.

Two officers jumped out of the vehicle holding pistols that pointed directly at Rich. “Drop your weapon or we fire!” one of the cops ordered.

(A certain young offenders’ institution in a certain state of the U.S.A. – April 2001)

At the same time, Gerry was having his first shower in the young offenders’ institution that would be his home for the next twelve months. The shocked 14 years old had arrived the previous evening, having received a surprise custodial sentence for shoplifting. The boy had not enjoyed his first night in the grim place, remotely located in the south of the state. He had first been introduced to the governor, a stern-faced disciplinarian who had made the young newcomer very uncomfortable with a long catalogue of behavioural expectations and allied list of punishments if they were not met. He had then been sent to see the doctor, for whom he had to humiliatingly strip for a very intimate medical examination.

The still naked and therefore deeply shamed Gerry, carrying his civilian clothing, had then been taken by an escorting guard to see the reception officers. The boy did not like the way these two men smirked at him as they seemingly appraised his nude body whilst booking him in and taking his possessions off him. The handsome brown haired and eyed nude was eventually left with only a small receipt in his hands, which were being used to try to hide his smooth genitalia, crowned by a small tuft of dark pubic hair. The 14 years old was consequently subsequently very pleased to be finally permitted to redress in the standard institutional inmate garb. This comprised navy blue underpants and jeans and white t-shirt, sports socks and sneakers.

Gerry had arrived too late to indulge in an evening meal and, as it was almost time for lights out, had therefore now been taken to the communal dormitory that he would be sharing with about thirty other young inmates. The boy was allocated one of the lower bunks. Above him was a friendly black youngster of similar age who introduced himself as Cy. However, the most distressing part of the whole terrible day now arrived for the newcomer when another older teenager approached, surrounded by a small group of fawning sycophants.

Inmates slept only in their underpants and Gerry had just disrobed and placed his new attire in his allocated locker. The members of the approaching and rather sinister group were similarly sparsely dressed.

“What’s your name?” the 16 years old asked. “Gerry” answered the worried newcomer, as he viewed Miller for the first time. The latter did not look his age but much older. He was well over six feet tall, possessed huge biceps and an ugly brutish face that had seemingly been involved in many fights. The dormitory bully’s nose had been flattened and both cheeks were scarred. His chin, despite shaving that morning, was already covered in sharp stubble, and his massive frame was covered in a thick mat of hair. The 14 years old could also not help but notice the substantial bulge at the front of the older youth’s underwear.

Miller had been sentenced to a long stretch for robbery with violence. He knew that he would eventually be moving on to an adult prison where his size, strength, ugliness and violent brutality might not be so intimidating to the inmates as it was here. He therefore proposed to enjoy his time in the young offenders’ institution as much as possible.

The police had rightly suspected Miller of committing far worse crimes than robbery. They considered the 16 years old to be the prime candidate for the murder of an old lady, whose apartment had been burgled, as well as many other violent transgressions. However, a lack of evidence, and the young criminal’s cheeky imperviousness to interrogation, meant that no charges were laid, although it was noticeable that, after finally catching the miscreant red-handed performing a botched snatch at a liquor store, the local crime rate had decreased substantially after his subsequent incarceration.

“Well, squirt,” Miller announced as he stood in front of the much more diminutive Gerry, who tried not to wince at the stink emanating from the older teenager’s ugly sweaty form, “you’re now in my dormitory. I run this place and you therefore do as I say. Understand?” As he said the last word, the 16 years old reached out with his huge hairy right hand, grabbed the 14 years old’s covered genitals and squeezed hard.

Gerry tried to push Miller away but without success and instead somehow managed to splutter “Yes, I understand!” However, the 16 years old did not immediately desist, enjoying the clear agony being suffered by, and now being visibly displayed on the reddened face of, his young victim. The 14 years old was too breathless to say or do anything to resist the torture of his sexual organs and humiliatingly began to shed tears whilst the whole scene was being watched by every eye in the dormitory.

Miller eventually relented and released his grip. The sobbing Gerry immediately collapsed to the floor, grasping his hurting genitalia. “Good,” declared the 16 years old, “you seem to have got the message.” Laughter engulfed the bully’s sycophants, as he finally gave the newcomer’s bottom a prod with his foot whilst advising “I think I’ll have some of this later.” The group then walked away.

Cy jumped down from his bunk and helped Gerry to his feet once he had recovered sufficiently. The black boy then gently assisted the young white newcomer to the lower bed.

“I’m sorry, man, that I couldn’t help,” Cy apologised, “but I wouldn’t have stood a chance against Miller.” “Yes, I understand,” Gerry responded for the second time that night, “but I don’t understand what Miller meant by ‘I’ll have some of this later’” The young black sighed at the tearful young white’s apparent innocence.

“I’m afraid, man,” Cy advised, “that he intends to fuck your boy pussy, and sometime soon.” “What do you mean by ‘fuck my boy pussy’?” an incredulous Gerry queried as he dried his eyes. The young black replied “Gee, where’ve you been living, man? He’s going to stick his monster of a dick up your backside and pump it as if it was a piston shaft. He does it regularly to all the pretty ones here. You’ll just have to get used to it!”

Dampness returned to Gerry’s eyes as the lights went out. “Night!” said Cy but the newcomer’s reply was barely audible as he fretted over what his bunk companion had told him. The 14 years old eventually slept little, worried that Miller would come for him in the middle of the night. However, the brute had already allocated to his bed another young teenager, whose agonised yelps could be heard as he was regularly sodomised overnight.

Gerry bravely but foolishly decided that he would not share such a fate compliantly and so, when Miller eventually made his move in the communal shower next morning, the 14 years old took appropriate action. He had decided that accepting a beating was preferable to suffering sodomy.

The naked Gerry was washing his face under the shower spray when he jumped at the feel of hairy hands caressing the smooth lustrous curvature of his buttocks. The boy turned to find Miller standing behind him in a suddenly otherwise empty washing facility. The 14 years old’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of the obnoxious 16 years old’s massive cock, fully erect.

“Now, squirt,” suggested Miller, “I think that it’s time that I introduced your mouth and anus to my dick!” Gerry responded by kicking the huge hairy ball sac of the 16 years old and running out of the shower, leaving the bully collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Strangely, nothing untoward happened to Gerry for the rest of that day. The boy expected trouble but none came. After breakfast in the large canteen at 6a.m., the newcomer spent the morning in a classroom, where lessons were confined to the so-called three Rs, reading, writing and arithmetic. The 14 years old found the experience very boring, as he seemed to be well ahead in terms of academic ability compared with the other similarly aged inmates who made up the class.

After lunch at noon, Gerry found himself allocated to menial work in the kitchens, primarily loading and unloading large industrial dishwashers and peeling potatoes. After the evening meal at 4.30p.m., he, like all the other inmates, was confined to the dormitory.

Gerry considered that this was the most likely time for Miller to gain his undoubtedly planned revenge but, throughout the evening until lights out, neither the bully nor any of his sycophants approached the newcomer, although the 14 years old was aware that he was being frequently glanced at. The boy spent time engaged in conversation with Cy, mainly relating to their families and past lives, until darkness descended. He then worried that vengeance would be extracted overnight.

It was therefore with considerable relief that, after sheer exhaustion had caused him to sleep soundly, Gerry woke the next day still unharmed. He soon found himself once more in the crowded shower but Miller was nowhere to be seen. The newcomer was beginning to believe that perhaps he had succeeded in intimidating the bully to leave him alone. However, his belief was to be quickly shattered.

Gerry was again washing his face when his arms were suddenly grabbed from behind, apparently by two people because one also placed his hand over the boy’s startled eyes. The 14 years old then felt acute agony overwhelm his groin. The next thing he knew was that he was kneeling on the floor of the deserted shower. The water that was falling on his loins was then running away coloured red to the drainage hole.

Gerry glanced at his genitals and could not believe what he saw. He then looked at the drainage hole. There, trapped by the covering metal grill, lay his severed cock. The boy began to scream in excruciation and horror.

(A certain young offenders’ institution in a certain state of the U.S.A. – September 2001)

Rich’s family and friends had believed that he was innocent of the murder of the shopkeeper but the police did not. After all, the only fingerprints found on the murder weapon had been those of the boy, who was also caught red-handed running away from the murder scene. His story of tangling with and attempting to chase the real criminal was simply not accepted by the authorities. Additionally, the sole eye witness, an old man who had seen the murder from a nearby apartment window, had picked the 14 years old out as the culprit in an identity parade.

Rich’s incompetent defence attorney had not spotted the fact that the witness would have been away from the window, making the 911 call to the police, when the innocent defendant was fighting the real murderer or that the old man, given to confusion, had actually recognised the boy not from the shooting incident but from his subsequent unwarranted arrest. The inherently sceptical lawyer’s inability to persuade the jury of his young client’s innocence was not helped by his own belief that the boy was probably guilty despite his pleas to the contrary.

Rich was sentenced to life, with the first part to be spent in the young offender’s institution. He was to be the new occupant of the bunk beneath that of Cy, the previous incumbent having been transferred to solitary confinement for his own safety after the horror of his unsolved penectomy.

(To be continued in chapter 2 – ‘Arrival’)