Note: The idea for this story came to me when I was listening to an episode of the This American Life podcast about a boy who was sent to prison is very much a similar way in which the protagonist of my story is sent to prison. The rest of the story is from my imagination. Any resemblance to persons dead or alive is purely coincidental.
This story contains some sexually explicit and violent scenes. Reader discretion is advised.

Mohammed walked out the gates that had kept him for four years. Four years that taught the ex-class-topper things college would never have been able to teach him. He looked around to see if any of his family had come to pick him up and wasn’t surprised that there was nobody. After his sentencing, his father had come up to him as he was being led away and said, “You have not only let yourself down, but you have shamed the entire family – our whole community. Was it worth it? All this, for an unbeliever? As of this moment, I have only two sons and they both are going home with me today.”

Mohammed placed his cloth bag on the wooden bench outside the tea stall. He ordered a cup of tea and a cigarette. He had left his stock of cigarettes behind with his “friends”. As he sipped the saccharine tea that was served out of a steel flask, he thought back to his first night in jail after the sentencing. He had cried all night. In fact, he had cried himself dry. By the morning, there were no more tears to shed. By the time they came to transport him to the central jail, he had accepted his position and prepared himself for the trials that lay ahead. It was also the last time he had cried for Nicole. He had thought of her many times after that, but he never cried for her after that.

“Need a lift?” asked a voice behind him.

He turned around and almost didn’t recognize the man in the white Mercedes. Javed mian was the first friend he made in prison. By the time they had checked him in, it was time for evening prayers. So he laid down his prayer mat and faced Mecca. He felt another mat being placed next to him but he never looked up.

“Welcome home”, the deep voice said after they had both rolled up their mats.

“I’m not at home”, he had said petulantly.

“That is the wrong approach”, the bearded man told him. “How do you expect to spend four years in a place and retain your sanity if you are going to constantly yearn to be somewhere else?”

“Leave me alone”, Mohammed told him.

“I will. But others won’t and you need to make a choice now. Right here. Right now.”

The two turned to face each other. Javed was at least a foot taller than the 18-year-old boy.

“Like there are predators out there”, he said nodding towards the walls. “There are predators in here. You will be raped tonight. You are too young and too good-looking to be left alone. You can choose to walk away from me and have your asshole torn tonight. Or you can come with me, I will only use your thighs and mouth.”

Mohammed felt the bile of disgust rise in his throat. He wanted to puke.

“There is no reason for you to trust me or anything I say. But there is only one way to find out.”

Mohammed sank to his knees and then sat on his ass. He looked around without seeming to. There was one thing that could not be disputed – the others were afraid of this man. He could see them holding back, staying outside an unseen perimeter. So maybe he was lying about the rapes, but it would not hurt to be his man (or woman).

“Promise you won’t hurt me”, he said quietly.

“I promise”, the man said and held out his hand. Mohammed reached out and took it.

He could feel the rest of the crowd melt away. He knew he was no longer in danger. That night he had sex with a man for the first time. For the next three years, they became closer. Although he continued to be repulsed by the acts that happened between them at night, he also realized that Javed was a good friend to have. So he gave him his total loyalty. The ultimate test came when Rajan came to the prison. Rajan controlled the half of the city that Javed didn’t. They hated each other.

“He’s going to make a move for you”, Javed told him. “I can throw a ring around you, but that would not solve the problem. Instead I want him to get you.”

Mohammed had misgivings about the plan, but he didn’t see another way out. So he went along. The day after Rajan arrived, Mohammed found himself cornered in the kitchen where he worked.

“So this is Javed’s whore”, said a voice from behind the wall of men in front of him. The wall parted to show a short, but thickset man.

“Before you let them rape and kill me, I want a minute of your time”, Mohammed said in the most confident voice that he could muster. He had to admit, it did come out sounding very confident.

“What would you have to say that could possibly interest me?”

“What would you gain by raping me? It doesn’t affect Javed one bit. You surrounded a poor, helpless whore and raped him. People do that every day. But what if I walked with you to your cell, spent the night with you and kissed you full on the lips in front of everybody tomorrow morning? You can then claim to be more man than him. You not only kidnapped his whore, but won his heart through your superior sexual prowess. You will strike at his manhood.”

“He will have you killed”, Rajan said.

“Not if you protect me. Protecting me will also make it more authentic.”

“Authentic? Boy, I am going to fuck you all night.”

“No. The only reason I am ready to play along is because I am sick and tired of having a man lying on me and jerking off between my thighs, all the while calling me women’s names. You have no idea how much I hate that man, and I am willing to insult him but in exchange, I will give you nothing more than a handjob. That is my condition.”

Rajan’s mind worked furiously, as he tried to assimilate the opportunity in front of him. It would be the final nail on the coffin of Javed’s manhood. Outside, Javed’s ex-girlfriend (a former movie actress) now graced Rajan’s bed. This would make Javed a laughing stock.

“But the fact that we do nothing will not leave our cell. Everybody must think we are having sex.”


“Walk with me”, Rajan said and led him away. Louder, to the rest of his crew he said, “He’s coming with me. No one touches him.”

Mohammed could feel the stares as he followed Rajan in to his cell. Then they sat down to wait for sunrise. When the warden’s assistant came to open the cells, he stood frozen outside Rajan’s cell. Then he rushed to tell the warden that Rajan lay in a pool of blood inside his cell. There was only one other person in the cell – Mohammed.

The murder of Rajan was a political earthquake. Within a span of days, empires fell and new ones rose in their place. But Mohammed didn’t know about any of this – he spent the next two weeks in solitary confinement. When he was released, the warden’s men escorted him to Javed’s cell where he was greeted like a triumphant warrior returning after making great conquests. He never lay below another man after that – not even Javed.

Javed had calculated Rajan’s responses perfectly and Mohammed had played his part perfectly. His people outside had been prepared to move in quickly to seize the opportunity in the confusion that followed Rajan’s death. By the time the dust settled, Javed owned the city.

That first night he was given a whore. He asked the boy to give him a blowjob and kept calling him Nicole as he ejaculated. From that night on, he fucked Nicole every night.

“Tell me about this girl Nicole”, Javed asked him one night as they sat sharing a hookah.

“She was a cop”, Mohammed said. “An undercover cop. They set up a force to infiltrate schools and colleges to find drug peddlers. She was….is beautiful. Sexy. Smart. The day she walked into class, claiming to have moved to the city because of her father’s transfer, I fell in love with her. I chased her relentlessly. I didn’t think it would be tough. After all, I topped the class in studies, I was well read, and I looked good. She would have to fall for me. But she didn’t. She kept running away and the harder she ran, the harder I chased her. Soon we began having out lunches together. Studying together. Even sitting on adjacent desks in class. Slowly, she started pushing me for more “fun”. So we began to cut classes, go for movies, smoke, drink. But it didn’t seem enough. She always wanted more.”

“Finally, she asked me if I could get her some grass. And although I didn’t have the faintest idea where I would get hold of some, I told her I would get her some and we could do a grass party some night. My aim was to get her high and have sex with her. Now you have to understand that I was an a-grade student. Drugs and the rest of the shit that went along with that was new territory for me. But it seemed like the only way I could impress this chick. So I reached out to some cousins. These guys were school dropouts who hung around with the rough crowd. They thought they were cool. After some ribbing they did get me a bag of grass, which I took to school and gave to my cute little chick. She was thrilled and immediately we began making plans of how we could smoke them that weekend. But as we got up to leave, she gave me a bunch of notes.”

“I told her that I didn’t want the money and that the only reason got it for her was because she asked me for it. She insisted and I resisted. This went on until I got embarrassed and took the cash just to avoid making a scene. The next day my mom woke me up saying there were some cops who wanted to see me. Before I knew it, I was charged with dealing drugs in school, tried and sent here to this shithole.”

“She testified at my trial. That was the last time I saw her. I remember her words to this day. She said that young kids must know that their actions have consequences and that she was glad she was doing her bit to clean up the world one school at a time.”

“But you still dream of fucking her”, he said.

“I dream of it every night”, I agreed.

“So? Are you going to just stand there and stare or are you going to get in?” Javed asked him, pulling him out of his flashback.

Mohammed walked around and got in to the car. Javed took him home where he introduced him to his ex-girlfriend, the former movie actress, the one who had gone over to Rajan.

“She’s my whore now. I don’t fuck her any more. She made it quite obvious that she didn’t like what I had to give her. I keep her around to pass around to the boys when they please me.”

Javed said this while the woman poured their tea for them. Mohammed watched the woman and was amazed at the lack of reaction.

“Is she on drugs?” he asked, after she left.

“No. Not that I know of.”

“Kill her. Otherwise, she will surely kill you.”

“She wouldn’t dare”, Javed boasted.

“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you”, Mohammed shrugged and drank the tea.

Mohammed spent a few days at Javed’s place. He had many visitors. After all, he was the man who killed Rajan.

“So when do you plan to repay my debt?” Mohammed said to Javed one night as they sat sharing another hookah. Each of them was nursing a drink and each had a woman they were toying with as they spoke.

“I have been waiting for you to ask”, Javed told him.

“Get out. Both of you.”

Mohammed sent the girls away and then told Javed what he wanted.


Nocole D’Costa came too and looked around the room. It was a drab, grey room. The floor was wet, the concrete was but a few days old.

“Hi Nicole.”

She looked in the direction of the voice. All she saw was a silhouette.

“You have no idea who you are fucking with”, she said.

“You know what? Every time someone says that without knowing who THEY are fucking with, I am amused.”

Her eyes widened when Mohammed stepped into the light.


“Not just young people Nicole, everybody should be aware that there are consequences to their actions. Did you think about the consequences of your action?”

“I was doing my job”, she told him.

“Really? You know what? When I was in prison, getting raped every night, I took some time to read up the premise for your little task force. I don’t recollect coming across anything that involved pushing kids to buy drugs and setting them up as dealers. Nowhere!”

“You had a choice to refuse me.”

“And I did. I said I didn’t want the money. Over and over again. And you insisted I take it. Over and over again. I don’t recollect you telling that to the judge when you so conveniently preached about consequences.”

“I am a cop. There will be repercussions.”

“Do I look like I care? Do you know the problem with people like you? You guys break the rules with impunity and expect others to follow them. You think you can come into my life, fuck everything I have and that I will roll over and die. What you don’t expect is that I may not play by your rules.”

“Do you know why I threw away my whole life? Because I loved you. I was ready to throw everything away for you. So you should be scared. You should have thought about that. You should always be scared of the person who can throw everything away in exchange for one thing. They…We….are usually mad.”

It was three days before she was found, lying next to Mohammed. She was barely alive. He had cut his veins and bled himself to death. He’d forced her to watch as his life drained out of his veins. She’s screamed and screamed and screamed.

Beside them lay her feet and hands.

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