Romancing My Man

I am a man and an African-American youth. At 16 years of age, I am into the dreadful teen years of finding myself; my sexuality; my personality; me. I am discovering how I want ‘Me’ to look; clothing style, hair style, even my hair colour. I want to stand out in a crowd; I want to be ‘Me’; not a facsimile of my father, uncles and brothers; ‘Me’. At 16 years old, my mum says I have many years to sort that out, yet my mind does not agree with her. My father tells me to act like a man, but I am still a boy. My brothers are all older than I am; I am the youngest of 4 boys, so I am always being bullied by them, but I am now learning to defend myself; I just took up boxing. The bruises and black eyes don’t worry me and neither does the sweat and exertion of training. I am always exhausted by the time I head for the showers; but I also feel exhilarated. I been in trouble with police; I am a gay black youth after all and to be expected. My boxing training is in a Youth Detention center in Chicago and knowing how to look after yourself is important here.

This is the first time inside and I am at IYC Chicago which is located on the west side of the city. My parents always attend the Parenting Group sessions and I get permission to sit with them during these sessions. I was just stupid and with the gang, stole a car and crashed it into a power pole. We were all injured in some way but not seriously, but the car was a write off so the parents; as part of our sentencing, were made to pay restitution; something dad was furious about. I ain’t a bad kid, but without these parenting groups, I could end up in a cycle of crime for the rest of my life, so I hope I can learn my lesson and stay out of a criminal existence. I am also finishing school; maybe not to college level, but enough to get a reasonable job. I don’t know what I want to do, but my social worker suggests a trade; wouldn’t mind being a chippie (carpenter). I like the woodworking shop they got here in prison. They call it a youth retraining center; it’s still a prison, regardless of what they call it. It’s all male and male to male sex is rife; what do you expect with 180 young men in the height of their sexual prowess and raging hormones. I been raped many times but now I am doing boxing training, I am developing my upper body strength and able to fight them off, but only just. I ain’t had any sexual contact with women; ever. Even at high school when I was out of prison, I wasn’t too keen on dating girls; I just thought I needed to grow up a bit to get excited by them, but being in prison has taught me one thing, I like the smell and sight of men; their smell sexually excites me, and so does their naked body when we all shower after physical training in the gym and out in the sports field. There ain’t anyone inside I particularly like, but one older guy seems to have taken a shine to me; he is maybe 4 years older than me and always waits for me to go into the toilets when we are in rec time, and stands behind me when I stand at the trough. When I finish having a slash, he will wait for me to turn around before he grabs my face a kisses me, then drags me into the toilet cubicle; I don’t know why the cubicle as it has no door and is only waist high walls so all can see you taking a shit. He then fumbles around inside my pants and gets me hard again, then when I am hard, I have to make sure he is hard, then he rapes me; he thinks he is raping me, but I kind of like having sex with him. His smell is masculine and turns me on no end.