Date: Sat, 04 May 2002 15:30:19 -0400
From: Chad P. <chadp1981@hotmail.com>
Subject: Inside-Out-1

DISCLAIMER:  If sexual acts between consenting adult males are not legal or
interesting for you to read, then please move on, this story is not for you
-- and shame on you for getting this far. The characters mentioned below are
not real; they are a product of my imagination.  The circumstances described
in this story are similarly fictional and to my knowledge have no basis in
reality.  If you like what you read, take the time and let me know.

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INSIDE OUT

You've probably heard this before, its practically cliche.  I swear I didn't
do it.  The difference is, I mean it.  Of course jail is filled with men who
tell the same story to anyone that will listen.  So far no one does.  I have
never been here before and the thought of staying here overnight scares me
more than just a little.  I can't even imagine the possibility that it could
be longer - not yet.

My name is Marc Rivard.  I'm nineteen years old and I'm sitting in a cell at
a police station somewhere in Toronto.  A few hours ago I was at a rave with
some friends of mine when a fight broke out involving people I didn't know.
The crowd just gathered round in a circle and cheered as fists colliding
with flesh and the melee intensified.  The music played on and the hypnotic
pulse of a strobe light made the action seem surreal.  I saw angry people
and the flash of something silver -- then red.  It was amazing how the sight
of blood transcended the moment, focusing it into reality.  Someone had been
stabbed right in front of us.  Except by then it wasn't us anymore, it was
just me.  I remember looking for my friends amongst the unfamiliar faces but
they were not around.

I turned back towards the brawl and overheard three extra beats out of sync
with the rhythm of the song and suddenly people were running.  I hadn't
realized what had happened until the person in front of me shouted, "GUN!"
and then pushed me aside.  My balance lost, I fell to the ground where
several people trampled me on their way towards safety.  Each time I made it
to my knees I was knocked down again by the steady stream of rats leaving
the sinking ship.  The floor was slick with liquid -- and then I saw it.

It almost looked like a toy until I picked it up.  It was much heavier than
I would have thought.  It was jet black and still warm.  Until that moment I
had never held a real gun in my hands.  I've reviewed that moment a thousand
times in my mind and I still don't have a clear-cut answer for why I picked
it up.  The best explanation was that I was terrified.  Here I was being
crushed beneath the footsteps of others running away from the threat of
being shot, when suddenly right in front of me is the source of their fear
and mine.  I figured at least in my hands I would be safe and so would they.
After all, I knew I would never shoot anyone.

Apparently, no one else knew me that well.  When I stood up with the gun in
my hands there was another cry from those around me, words blending in to
each other unintelligible.   Suddenly, the swarm that was moving towards me
was going the other way.  I heard the word "run" as clear as day and it
seemed like good advice.  At the time I couldn't fathom it, I just put my
feet in motion, straight out the exit doors and down the street as fast as
my legs could carry me.

I knew where my friends had parked and under normal circumstances I could
have found the car without any problems.  In the darkness and with
adrenaline coursing through my veins, I must have missed the side street.  I
didn't even slow down to check my bearings until I saw him.  At first I was
relieved thinking order would be returned now that the police had arrived.
I stopped running and held out my arms in a gesture of gratitude.  It was at
that moment when clarity returned and I realized I had a gun in my hand,
pointed in same general direction as two uniformed officers.
Coincidentally, they too had guns in their hand but at that moment I was
confident their aim was more purposeful than mine.

"POLICE!  DON'T MOVE!  DROP THE GUN!  DO IT NOW!"

My mother used to complain that I was never capable of following
instructions or doing more than one task at a time.  I'm not sure if she
would have been proud or appalled to see her son rise above that criticism
as I simultaneously let go of the pistol and most of the contents of my
bladder.  I didn't have time to be rewarded for the first act or embarrassed
for the second as I was quickly tackled to the ground and handcuffed.

Next I was hauled up off the ground and draped over the back of the police
car, my head matted against the trunk lid.  I felt cold all over, my heart
beating like a tympani and my teeth were chattering.  There were hands
everywhere, holding my hair, my arms and groping me all over, and then came
the questions.

"What's your name?"

"Got anything sharp in your pockets?"

"Are you on something?  Any narcotics?"

"Anymore weapons?"

"Ah jeez!  Did you piss your pants?"

"No" I answered meekly.  When I heard my voice it sounded far away and
unconvincing.

"The bastard wet his pants he must be high or plenty scared.  Get me some
disinfectant from the trunk, Cam"

I was moved off of the first cruiser and into the backseat of another.  I
didn't have much of an opportunity to get seated and found that there was no
place to put my legs anyway.  At six-three and one hundred and sixty pounds
I was tall enough that I didn't fit well and skinny enough that the cuffs
started digging into my wrists when I tried to sit up.  I decided to just
lie on my side.

On the way to the police station the one named Dave read me my rights, and
told me I had been arrested for possession of a weapon.  He also told me
there the kid I shot didn't look good and I should think about cooperating
now rather than later.  I tried to tell him I didn't shoot anyone, that I
just found the gun and picked it up for some strange reason, but they didn't
even pretend to believe me.

At the station the handcuffs were removed and, I was frisked again only this
time more thoroughly.  I guess that was when Dave noticed some blood on my
clothes so off they came.  So there I was standing in the middle of the
booking room wearing only a set of wet white briefs and a pair of white tube
socks feeling totally humiliated when Dave spotted some more blood on the
waistband of my underwear.  He told me I'd have to give them up too and I
said, "No way!"

If I had to guess I would now state with confidence that Officer Dave had
never been a member of the debating team in highschool although I would not
doubt he wrestled.  In one swift maneuver my arm was bent up behind my back
and my ear pressed against the concrete wall.  Another set of hands at my
hips and then my underwear were down at my ankles.  I stepped out of them
grudgingly and my socks were pulled from my feet as well.

"You think you're in control here you little shit?  Tough kid with a gun
isn't so tough now huh?" taunted Dave.  I had only just met the guy but I
was certain I would never forget him.  I was naked in front of four
policemen and a female guard.  They were all looking at me and I had never
felt so self-conscious before. I answered all their questions from that
position, name, date of birth, address, phone number and next of kin.  They
asked me if I wanted to call a lawyer but at the time I just wanted some
dignity so I declined.

Dave still had my arm contorted in a devious hold and he was lead me down a
narrow hallway towards a holding cell.  As I passed by other cells there
were catcalls from the occupants inside directed my way.   Just outside the
entrance to my new temporary home Dave told a younger cop to check me good
before he put me in.  I saw the younger guy blush furiously as one the
female guard handed him a pair of blue rubber gloves as she left the area.

"Don't worry, Cam, I've got a hold on him.  Just do it quickly"

I felt a hand sifting through my hair and then my necklace was removed from
around my neck.  I was still wearing a single gold stud in my left ear and I
could feel the younger cop's hands tremble as he took it out.  Next I felt
his hands on my ass cheeks and he told me to stop clenching them shut.  I
tried to brace myself for the next indignity but it never happened.
Apparently a look at my butt crack was all that was required.  I released a
sigh.  I was totally unprepared for what happened next.

Suddenly a gloved hand was on my nuts, lifting them gently and then
releasing them.  His other hand went to my penis and grasping it firmly
retracted the foreskin backwards until the head was exposed.  To my horror,
I started to get an erection and he let go of my dick.

"All done - he's fine" said Cam and Dave pushed me into the cell and slid
the door closed until it latched.  Dave noticed my boner and pointed it out
to Cam teasing us both.

"See that, Cam, first week on the job and already you've got a friend.  Ha!
Look at that wood.  Next time you search a prisoner let the guy pull his own
self back, you never know who's a fag these days".  Dave laughed and shook
his head at me and then the two walked off.

I sat there shivering on the concrete bench for a couple of hours.
Mercifully my hard-on didn't last long, especially after I noticed the video
camera pointed straight at my cell door.  The female guard told me to lie
down and go to sleep via an intercom but I was too terrified to even
contemplate the idea.  The cell reeked of stale urine and sweat.  People in
other cells yelled to each other and someone around the corner in another
part of the cell block cursed and shook the bars with violence.  I closed my
eyes, covered my ears and tried to block out every sense at once.  I
clenched my teeth so hard my jaw shook.

When I opened my eyes again Officer Cam was standing in front of my cell
staring at me.  He had a Styrofoam cup of coffee and what looked like a
sandwich wrapped in waxed paper with him.

"Do you want something to eat Marc?" he asked, "it's not much, but if you're
hungry you should have it."  He held the food through the bars and I stood
up to take it from him.  Five minutes after being left alone inside my cell
I had fashioned myself a covering out of toilet paper.  I figured there was
no way I was going to use the facilities what with the camera, so I might as
well preserve at least shred of decorum.  Of course jumping up to take the
meal caused the toilet paper to fall to the ground into a puddle on the
floor.  Once again I was naked in front of this stranger.  I accepted the
food and covered my dick with my other hand.

"Sorry about what happened earlier", he said, "I'm new here and I probably
did that wrong -- it's my fault you ah... that umm, you... well anyway, I was
probably just as embarrassed as you were."

"Why" I answered haughtily, "did you have a boner too, you jerk?"

He just stared at me then turned around abruptly and left the cellblock.  I
ate my sandwich and tried desperately not to burn my tongue on the scalding
hot acrid coffee.  Some time later Officer Cam returned to my cell with
something white in his hand.

"Here" he said, "put this on.  I'm going to fingerprint you and then one of
the detectives is going to talk with you."

It turned out the white thing was actually a thin cloth one-piece jumpsuit.
It wasn't actually my size but it covered my essentials much better than the
toilet paper did, and offered a measure of warmth as well.  Officer Cam
watched me dress and warned me not to act up when he opened the cell doors.
He was about my size but I guessed about fifty pounds heavier.  It was hard
to tell with the bulletproof vest on and all the equipment he carried on his
belt.  Not that I would even consider challenging him; even if we were dead
even I knew someone like Dave wouldn't be far away.  I finished zipping up
my tuxedo and Cam unlatched the door.  I followed him down a series of
hallways until we came to the fingerprinting room.

He took my picture and squirted ink out onto the pad.  Next he came up from
behind me and took my hand in his and manipulated each finger one by one
first onto the inkpad and then onto the paper.  He was standing so close to
me I could feel his hip against my butt and I could smell the clean
fragrance of soap and a light cologne.  When he was done, my hands were
black and he told me to wash up in the sink then come back and sit down.  I
did as I was told and when I returned he started asking me questions to
complete the fingerprint form.  I answered him as best I could and he typed
the information into the computer.

"So how did you know?" he interjected.

"How did I know what?" I answered.

"That I was hard too" he whispered.  "I didn't even notice you were, I was
so scared someone would pick up on me.  I just about died when Dave
mentioned it.  I thought he had seen me."

I just sat there trying to rationalize what this cop had just told me when
he spoke again.

"I mean I've heard of gaydar before but I was never really good at it.  You
pegged me instantly though I bet?  Dave was right you never know where
you'll find us huh?  How long have you been out?" he asked.

I couldn't believe what he was saying and I wasn't sure how to reply.  When
I was younger I had been involved in circle jerk with some guys at summer
camp.  It started off as a race to see who would finish first.  Partway
through the competition amidst the seven of us standing there naked, beating
our meat, someone suggested that the loser had to clean up the winner's mess
with his mouth.  Right at that moment I felt that familiar twinge in my
balls and before I knew it, I was shooting cum all over myself and into the
center of our group.

I wasn't usually that fast when I masturbated by myself, but on that day I
was the clear winner.  The others followed suite soon after, one by one
until only Bradley was left.  He tried to back out of the deal, as did I,
but the peer pressure was relentless.  Finally we both gave in.  Bradley
dropped to his knees in front of me and prepared to keep his end of the
bargain.  Before he started he began stroking his own dick again, only this
time with a fervor he hadn't displayed during the competition.  He licked a
thin trail of semen off of my stomach and it tickled.  Then he licked the
fingers on my right hand, cleaning the places where I was still wet.  Next
he opened his mouth and sucked the thick white cum out of my pubic hair and
off the underside of my balls.  My dick got hard again almost instantly and
the other guys cheered Bradley on when they noticed my reaction.  I felt
certain he would stop then and consider his end of the bargain satisfied,
but by then they were chanting his name and he remained entranced.

When he put his lips onto the end of my cock I just about lost it right
then, but when he started bobbing his head up and down the full length of my
shaft there was no hope of holding the orgasm back any longer.  I pulled
back and tried to free myself from his mouth, but he had one hand behind me
grasping my bum and holding me in place.  I wanted to tell him to stop, to
warn him what was going to happen, but the reality was that at that moment I
had surrendered to it.  I was lost to the pleasure and the ecstasy of my
release.  Since that day I had never felt such an intense and forceful
ejaculation.

Although I was certain that each squirt from my dick was as full as the one
before, Bradley never broke his stride and didn't miss a drop.  Well he
didn't miss a drop of mine that is.  His own cum shot wildly onto my legs
and barefeet then trickled down onto the floor of the cabin.  He licked from
the base of my penis to the tip and kissed away the last drop of semen
before he lowered his head and licked up his own offering from my ankles and
between my toes.  The rest of the guys applauded and then the moment was
gone as the gravity of the situation set in.

Since that day, there were many times I relived that event over in my mind.
It was the strongest image whenever I masturbated from then on.  Although
the memory was mine to edit as I saw fit it was always replayed exactly the
way it happened.  At times I wondered why I never substituted some I knew
girl for Bradley but I didn't.  I tried to tell myself it was only the
uniqueness of the situation, the surprise and spontaneity but in truth it
was because a guy did it and because sometimes I wished we had traded
places.

Cam was still looking at me with huge question mark in his blue eyes.  He
ran his fingers through the light brown hair that hung down over his
forehead then back along the top of his head where it was shaved short.  His
skin was slightly tanned and his arms were almost hairless.  I watched as he
absently bit his top lip and tilted his head to the side waiting.  For some
reason I trusted him.

"I'm not out" I answered him finally.  He nodded and smiled.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I am working without a net here.  Usually I write two or three chapters
before releasing the first, but this story has a momentum of its own and I
can't wait to share it.  For those of you who are waiting for the next
installment of "In Too Deep", I apologize.  I am finding that one harder to
revisit and writing this chapter instead was extremely satisfying.  As
always I appreciate hearing from you.

Chad Prescott.