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By Chris Carr
All Tajon wanted to do was join the
gang. An only child with no father and a delinquent mother, he felt the gang
would provide family he didn’t have. A place to connect. But here he stood,
hands cuffed behind his back, his heart pounding as the judge read the verdict.
His entire life reduced to one single paper, Tajon felt faint.
Looking around, there were no “homies”.
None of the guys from the gang were there. His only companion the public
defender, no one from his family was there either. Trying to be tough, like the
guys in the gang had told him, he held back his tears, his pounding heart the
only thing sounding in his ears as the judge began talking.
In a matter of minutes it was all over
and he was being lead out the courtroom, hands still shackled, back to the hell
hole that he’d hoped to escape. Batting back tears, he fought to be strong,
the hurt in his heart over none of his “homies” showing up painful. In time
he was being lead back to the ominous, nondescript building in the middle of
nowhere. Back through that door he’d dreaded, back to the trouble he’d
“Look at ‘em,” Manolo smirked.
“Ready to cry.” The taunts starting no sooner they were alone, Tajon had
never felt so alone before in his life.
“Did you cry?” Manolo taunted,
circling him. A bruise over his eye, no one in the court seemed to notice. The
bruise from Manolo, he flinched when the boy jabbed at him. Just a teen, he’d
barely started growing hair about his body. Abandoned and alone, he tried
playing it tough, but inside, he was just a boy, putting on a façade.
A tantalizing pecan-brown, he was
somewhat cute, in a homely way. With his sad sack eyes and thick full lips, at
first glance you may dismiss him. But Tajon had an attractiveness that drew
people to him. His features nevertheless baby-like, it was his innocence the
other boys were drawn to. That baby face and clueless persona just made people
want to have him. At 5’6”, he was a scrawny fella, with a cute ass that
perked up whatever he was wearing. Still in the early stages of puberty, his
dick was a wonder he’d recently discovered. Countless hours spent hiding away,
dick in hand, the incredible wonder of an approaching orgasm was like an
addiction, something he craved more than ever.
His youthful body going through the
change, how he longed to be home, naked under the covers of his ratty bed,
jacking the hours away.
Manolo making it his duty to harass
Tajon from day one, he circled him, sneering at his still developing form. His
boy shoulders and flat chest. His spindly legs and awkward feet. Tajon’s
package still in development, there was a small bulge beneath his prison pants.
Circling around back, Manolo took in his
thin form, the sweep of his back and the obvious shape of his ass, despite the
loose fitting pants. His dick stirring, he’d longed for that ass from day one.
Wanted it so bad, he’d warned all the other boys away.
Wishing he could smack it, he bided his time. Completing his circle, he leered at the other boys. “Yeah, he cried.”
Manolo’s taunting knowing no end, at
the heart of it was the fact Tajon was a minority in his dorm. The only Black
among a majority of Hispanics, Manolo felt it his duty to harass him. Feeling on
his ass when no one was looking or making sucking motions with his hand in front
of his boys, he made Tajon’s stay a living hell.
And then Malik came. The reason for his
detention a mystery, Malik nevertheless was familiar with the juvenile
correction system. Unlike Manolo, however, he was calm, his confidence evident
from within. A brotha like Tajon, they immediately connected, Malik walking to
him when he first entered the dorm. Manolo and his homies watching, they did
nothing as Malik took Tajon’s bunk, Tajon gladly giving it up for the top
Perched on his bunk, Malik calmly sized
the place up, his piercing eyes speaking volumes. Eyeing Manolo, they stared at
each other, neither blinking until finally Malik looked away. Speaking in
Spanish to his boys, Manolo sneered, the line clearly drawn in the sand.
That evening Manolo approached Tajon while Malik was away. “Don’t think your new boyfriend’s goin’ to protect you, puto,” He spat. “You’re still eating with me, got it?!” Stabbing his finger at Tajon’s chest, Tajon looked around for Malik. “He ain’t here, puto! So quit lookin’!”
Manolo’s harassment a constant
nuisance, he’d never gone so far as to assault him the way he had behind the
building. Worried his advances might escalate, Tajon lie wake, his heart racing.
His intentions clear, he knew the boy wouldn’t stop. The idea he might succeed
horrifying, he rolled off the bed and squatted before Malik’s bed.
Malik hearing him, he turned to face
him. “Talk to you?” Tajon petitioned. Nodding, Malik rolled to his side,
facing him. “How come… how come they don’t mess with you?”
Smiling, Malik calmly replied, “Cuz
they know.” Blinking, Tajon insisted,
“They know who I am.” The boy more
mysterious than ever, Tajon inquired what he meant. Malik explaining that he was
no stranger to the correctional system, he accounted that this wasn’t the
first time he and Manolo had met.
“That faggot know I’m with 8tray.”
The name familiar, Tajon knew the gang’s reputation. Hearing him call Manolo a
faggot both startling and refreshing, he understood why Malik might be respected
among the other boys. A glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel, he threw Malik
some dap, the bond forming.
“So… if I was with you…”
Chuckling, Malik interrupted,
me? Li’l homey, who you with?” Pounding his chest, Tajon made his
gang’s sign and announced,
“This 18th St!” Smiling,
Malik bumped his fist on Tajon’s once more.
“Fam,” He said, both boys Crips.
“So… would it be coo’ if I was
“Cost to be with me,” Malik
“That’s coo’.” Looking over at
Manolo, he added. “What about him?”
“He ain’t gonna bother you no
mo’.” Malik’s words the sweetest he’d ever heard, his heart rejoiced.
“But remember, cost to be with me,
li’l homey. Cain’t get somethin’ for nothin’.”
“Fosho,” Tajon nodded, bumping
Malik’s fist one last time. Hopping in his bed, he looked at Manolo one last
time. Throwing the sleeping boy the finger, he felt relieved.
He awoke the next morning to a heated
argument. Malik in Manolo’s face, they seemed to be discussing him. Rising,
Tajon watched in wonder, the shorter Malik never wavering or becoming excited.
As if it was already a done deal, he informed the hot headed Hispanic his days
harassing Tajon was over.
“What, he yo’ bitch now?” Manolo
spouted, glancing at Tajon. Hunching his shoulders, Malik calmly retorted,
“Naw, I leave that faggot shit up to
you and your boys.” Manolo and his
homies steaming, Tajon was certain Malik would suffer a beat down. “So leave
him alone, got it?” Malik said, standing his ground. Cursing at him in
Spanish, Manolo did nothing as he walked away.
Ecstatic, Tajon followed Malik out the door to the dining area. Sitting with the cool dude near the back, he ate all of his food with glee, happy he didn’t have to suffer taunts or food being flung at him. Totally clueless, he had no idea who and what he’d aligned himself with. Just an abandoned teen, looking for solace, all he saw was companionship.
No longer harassed, Tajon became cocky.
Strutting through the facility under Malik’s protection, he never saw the
looks the other boys were giving him. All he knew was that he didn’t have to
suffer Manolo’s harassment any more.
Walking into the bathroom with Malik one
day, he was surprised to see a few other boys there. All of them black, they
ranged from his age to Malik’s. Looking around, Tajon wondered what was up.
Locking the door behind them, Malik took center position.
“This Tay-john,” He announced. “He
want in with us.” Nodding, the other boys listened. Turning to face Tajon,
“Told you it cost to be with me,
li’l homey,” and with that, the other boys jumped him. A fist landing on his
jaw, other fists slammed into his body. Protecting himself, Tajon put his hands
up, the punches continuing until at last he fell to the floor. Feet kicking him,
Tajon curled into a ball. Fearing he’d pass out, he heard Malik say,
“A’ight, a’ight, that’s
enough.” A hand reaching for him, Tajon rose to his feet. Blood running from a
cut in his lip, there were bruises all over his body. “Did good, li’l
homey,” Malik said, patting him on the back. “Welcome to the fam.”
The same boys who’d just pummeled him
throwing him dap, Tajon marveled that he’d passed the initiation. Time of the
essence, the boys quickly exited, leaving Tajon and Malik alone. Staring at him,
Malik was quiet for some time. Wanting to ask if everything was ok, Tajon held
“Yeah, ‘member I told you it cost to
be with me?” Malik finally spoke. Nodding, Tajon wondered what he owed now.
“I got one mo’ thing I need you to do.”
Walking into one of the stalls, Malik
sat on toilet. Opening the flap on his pants, he stared at Tajon as he fished in
his pants. “I’ma need you to get on this,” He quietly ordered, pulling out
a ridiculously hard dick.
Shocked, Tajon almost ran. His heart
jumping into this throat, he gawked at Malik’s seriously long bat. Certain his
ears had deceived him, he croaked,
“Don’t’ be actin’ like you
ain’t heard me, get on this.” Angling his hardness toward Tajon, those
piercing eyes offered no compromise. Glancing at the door, Tajon heard Malik
“It’s locked.” Staring straight
through the boy, Malik wagged his dick at him. “We ain’t gonna have no
problems are we?”
Heart pounding, Tajon was so blindsided,
he couldn’t speak...
what had he gotten himself into?!! The whole nightmare starting with him
wanting to join a gang, now, he was facing his worse fear. Frozen in place,
Tajon reviewed his options once more. If he refused, on top of Malik no doubt
beating his face in, he’d lose his protection, leaving him vulnerable to
Manolo, which meant, giving up his ass! But if he wanted Malik’s protection,
he’d have to…
Told through several instances of abuse, there's no question where things will lead. It's not a matter of if... but when!
Nodding, Karim directed the boys to get
the ropes, strewn in a far corner. Tying Tajon’s wrists and ankles tight to
the table, with great regret they all left, some of them lingering in the door
to stroke a few last times as they drooled at Tajon’s perfect, boy ass. Karim
the HNIC, they knew not to contest, the last boy locking the door.
Restrained atop the old workbench like a
stuffed pig, Tajon’s eyes were filled with panic, his head craning over his
shoulder. Wanting to scream again, he was cut off, Tyree cramming his dick down
his throat. The boy’s curved length climbing up his talented throat, he
whimpered and cried, craning over his shoulder as Karim pulled his boy briefs
off his baby ass.
Snatching and tearing them away, his ass
hung over the edge, ripe for the picking. Leering at Tyree, Karim palmed
Tajon’s boy cheeks. The smooth, boy mounds perfect, he imagined them bouncing
about the basketball court, that hot summer day.
His dick bounding from his boxers, he
smeared the heavy liquid. Tajon’s sweet groove beckoning, he bent to inhale.
Sniffing his tender, boy ass, there was the faint hint of soap, combined with a
slight boy funk, no doubt from his running, earlier that day.
The piquant odor filling his nostrils,
Karim peeled Tajon’s boy cheeks apart, his dick bounding when he beheld the
tight flower within. Sniffing again, he got a heady whiff of boy ass as he dove
in, assaulting the tight button with his whipping tongue.
Slobbering to his delight, Karim’s
dick bobbled, anxious for the prize within. Turning his head about, Karim
mewled, his tongue painting Tajon’s backside. Envious, Tyree leered,
“How that taste?” His dick shoved
down Tajon’s throat, it writhed at the fantasy of sampling the boy’s bubble
ass. Gulping and slurping, Karim muttered,
“Taste like sweet honey,” his tongue
swabbing against Tajon’s tight bud.
Tyree’s dick down his throat, Tajon
wasn’t able to turn his head. Gawking on the protrusion, he craned, best he
could, fear in his eyes. Restrained and defiled, the lewd sensation up his ass
crack felt nasty.
Held against his will, he gawked on the
dick in his throat, Tyree moaning as he pushed deep. Like a sheep to the
slaughter, his prized possession lay exposed, Karim slurping and licking to his
delight until, at last, the tongue was gone. Scared shitless, Tajon yelled
around the dick inside him. Shaking his head, he struggled, desperately trying
to free himself.
Fearing what was coming, he peered over
his shoulder, his eyes bugging when he caught glimpse of Karim’s naked form.
His dick a mighty python before him, he squeezed the juices from the head,
smearing them about. A bottle of lube handy, he held it over Tajon’s
squirming, boy cheeks. Dribbling the clear liquid over his boy cheeks, he spread
them, allowing the liquid to dribble between them.