I was forced to wear a tucker - a handmade garment that pulls the genitals back, giving the illusion that the penis is not there - all the time. I had to talk soft and never raise or put bass in my voice. I had to arch my eyebrows and wear my clothes two sizes smaller to appear feminine. I was forced to grow my hair and nails and shave all the hair off of my face. I was used to pay off my “husband’s” gambling debts. With the threat of more violence, I was intimidated into giving up my manhood. I became his “ho.” This meant that I was his property and available to him for sex at his beck and call or risk being “put in a ho’s place.” The feeling of worthlessness was only amplified when the first man who assaulted me in the shower sold me to another inmate for $20 in commissary items. I never felt so much shame, embarrassment, and humiliation in my life. I was repeatedly sexually and physically assaulted in the shower. He ordered me not to move as he sexually assaulted me. I felt his hand on me and I tried to move away. That all changed when I went to take mine.Ī man entered the shower with me and ordered me to face the wall or he would “break my fucking neck.” This man was literally twice my size and so I faced the wall without question. During my first few hours there, I didn’t see two men take a shower together. It was not long before the other inmates discovered that I was gay. It was three ten-man “cuts” with a two man shower in the far back. Yet I very much remember the feelings of fright and trepidation.Īfter that first night I was placed on a dormitory style tier with about 30 other inmates. I pushed that night so far back into my head that it’s hard for me to even remember the faces of the men. Besides the original two, I was intimidated into performing oral sex on two other men. This was my first time in jail and, as a scrawny 23-year-old, I was afraid to do anything but obey. I don’t know why I expected them to do anything. Even with several people in the cell, no one said or did anything. Out of fear, I performed oral sex on them both. The man who was standing exposed himself while the other aggressively forced me to give his friend oral sex.
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I looked at him in horror as tears welled up in my eyes.
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“You ain’t fighting back, is you, sweetness?” he said. I attempted to spring up but another man stood over me and forcefully pushed me back down by my shoulders. Still, a man sat next to me and put his arm around me. I sat with my knees in and my arms folded with my head down, so I’m not sure how they knew I was gay. So I found a quiet spot on the floor in the corner. As I was being booked into Orleans Parish Prison in November of 2004, I realized I was a target.ĭuring the processing I was placed in a holding cell with nearly fifty other prisoners. Like everyone, I had heard the stories about men being “turned out” in prison. Coming from a family of several positive male role models, I never had to hide who I was, so I never did. I’ve always been gay, but I’ve never been overtly effeminate.