Date: Wed, 4 Feb 2004 06:45:24 -0800 (PST)
From: <stopherlaw@yahoo.com>
Subject: Letters From a Homophobic Jail Cell - Part 1 (Revised)

This story is based on possible future events, but if it ever gets like
this in America, I am moving to another country, I kid you not. All
characters and events are fictitious, any similarities to actual persons or
events are coincidental.  Of course this is all a crock, but lawyers make
us write it anyway.  I mean honestly, don't we all write what we know?  And
what do we know?  Actual persons and events. This story contains sexual
situations between males, which is exactly why it is posted on this
website. If this subject offends you, get new parts for your head and join
the 21st Century.  If you shouldn't be here, please leave now. This story
has been edited by tim on my behalf. Please e-mail comments to:
stopherlaw@yahoo.com

				    ***

    Sigh.  I suppose it is not surprising that I am sitting here on this
cold hard cot, thinking about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  He was arrested
many times, and even wrote from his Birmingham jail cell.  I certainly do
not consider myself a Civil Rights leader, but I guess many people do.

    My name is Eric.  I am a lawyer, for now.  After what happened earlier
today, I am sure the Attorney Discipline Board will be after my license.
It did not use to be like this.  I was in practice for five years, and
never lost a case.  It did not matter what the case was about, or who I was
representing.  I was that good.  I still am, I guess.  But now the laws are
really stacked against me.

    It all began just over one year ago, when Congress passed the heinous
Defense of Normalcy Act.  Gay Marriage was outlawed, and the active
practice of homosexuality was made a felony.  A felony!  Can you believe
that?  Of course, being a gay man myself, I was outraged.  I found a test
case within a week of the day the Act was passed, and we went to court.  I
knew the Supreme Court would strike it down as unconstitutional.

    What I had not counted on was Congress packing the Court (or as we, at
least we with a warped sense of humor, in the community like to say "fudge
packing").  Overnight the number of Justices went from 9 to 17.  Eight
homophobic Justices, plus those few already on the bench, upheld that
gay-bashing legislation. And with the Court in their pocket, the federal
government, rife with bible-humpers (no, that was not a typo, for these
people do not thump the bible, they make love to it), passed as many
regulations and bills they desired.

    The DEA declared semen a narcotic, adding it to its list of illegal
drugs. The FDA, citing a study by a Christian college, ruled that semen was
intoxicating to males. Every state in the Union by this time had passed
laws outlawing the consumption of semen by males.  The INS banned
homosexuals from entering the country.  The "don't ask, don't tell" policy
in the armed forces was abolished, and once again every new recruit was
asked the following: "Have you ever committed a sexual act with a member of
the same sex or an animal? Do you cross dress? Do you wet the bed? How
often do you masturbate?"

    I represented six former members of the military who were dishonorably
discharged.  I lost each case.  I have not won a case in the last year.
That is when I dedicated my life to defending gay men accused of violating
these so-called "decency laws".  That is why I am sitting here in this jail
cell, writing this letter.  My client has been accused of Driving Under the
Influence of Semen.  I got a little mouthy with the judge during the
arraignment, and I was held in contempt of court!  I knew I should not have
lost my temper, but I am just getting so sick of all this.  The FBI and CIA
have been after me for the past five months, hoping to nail me.  They have
even tried to entrap me a few times.  Damn, they have some hot looking
agents!

    So now you are probably wondering what I meant when I wrote about
getting all up in the face of that judge.  Well, and I know this sounds
juvenile, but he started it.  What you have to understand is that this
judge and I go way back. Twenty years in fact.  I was 12 and he was 14.  I
was in seventh grade, and he was in eighth grade.  We were both on the
middle school track team.

    In the last week of the season, a few days before our final meet of the
year, he and I were sitting out of practice for various injuries.  Maybe an
hour or so before practice was over that day, the coach asked us to make
sure the locker room was stocked with fresh towels.  It was a Monday, and
towels had a nasty habit of disappearing from the showers over the
weekends!

    So the Judge, his name is Aaron, and I first went up the coaches office
to pickup some fresh towels.  We were the only ones in there, and we were
like kids in a candy store.  I mean, we were into everything!  I was
checking out the bus flares while Aaron was looking at the coaches private
bathroom.  He asked me to come over to look at it, so I did.  Hey, I know
what you are thinking, but I was a naive 12 year old, and I was just happy
to hang out with an eighth grader.  I thought it was cool.  I thought he
was cool.  The coaches had a huge tile shower in their bathroom, and Aaron
told me to walk in and see how big it was.  I did.  When I turned around,
Aaron was standing in the shower entrance.  His pants were unbuttoned and
unzipped, revealing a huge bulge restrained by white briefs.  He had a look
in his eyes that I could not quite figure out, but knew was bad.

    Then he said, "feel me!"

    I honestly had no idea what he was talking about, I was that innocent.
But I knew from the sound of his voice that it was not something I should
be doing. I said no, and backed up into the corner of the shower.  He
stepped towards me and repeated his demand.  Again I told him no.

    Then he said, "then I'll feel you!"  He grasped my throat and shoved me
against the shower wall with his left hand, and dove for my crotch with his
right.

    I fought him as best I could, but it was no use.  Aaron was bigger and
stronger than I was. Aaron was nearly six feet tall.  He had huge bulging
muscles.  He lived on a lake, and spent a lot of time swimming and skiing.
He had a deep tan, even at that time of the year (Spring).  His brown hair
was slightly bleached by the sun.  It was short, because in our private
school we had to keep our hair cut short.  He had piercing green eyes.

    I was a weakling in every sense of the word.  I do not think I was even
5' 5" by this time, and had no muscle whatsoever.  I had pretty much lost
most of my baby fat, but I was nothing more than a wimp.  And I had
absolutely no clue whatsoever.  It never even occurred to me that I would
have my very first ever sexual experience in a shower stall one day after
school.  I was an only child and there were no other kids in my
neighborhood. Modesty was very big in my house, and I had not yet
experienced "the talk".  In fact, I never had "the talk".  Everything I
learned about sex I found out on my own.  I was 12 years old and I didn't
even know about masturbation!

    Well, Aaron of course got his hand in my pants, and he wrapped his
sweaty hand around my puny member.  I had begun puberty the year before, so
I was somewhat developed, but I still had the cock and balls of a preteen.
Aaron gently squeezed my penis a few times, then rubbed it with his thumb
while his shaking fingers caressed my velvety scrotum.

    "Doesn't that feel good," he asked.

    I was so scared, all I could do is nod my head.  It really did not feel
good at all, but I did not want to anger him.  I can still to this day
remember the feeling that overwhelmed me when Aaron got his hand down my
pants.  I totally collapsed emotionally.  I did not cry, but I felt very
much like a part of me just died.  I could feel my innocence being flushed
from my spirit.  I was Aaron's party, and resigned to succumb to his every
demand.

    After massaging my privates for a few minutes, Aaron told me to put my
hand in his pants.  I did as I was told, and hesitantly put my hand between
the waistband of his briefs and his warm wet stomach.  I grabbed his rigid
prick.  It was warm and throbbing.

    "Oh yeah," Aaron moaned, "doesn't that feel good!"  I had to admit that
at this point I thought it was pretty decent.  I still was not sure what I
was doing, but everything seemed to be going fine.

    Then Aaron took his hand out of my pants.  I took my hand out of his.
"Turn around and pull down your pants," he instructed.

    I had a vague idea of what was next, but not really.  I turned around
to face the wall, pulling my pants and briefs down past my knees.  I felt
his hard thick pole being shoved between my ass cheeks, poke at my asshole,
and enter my anus.  It was weird and uncomfortable, but not painful.  Aaron
shoved his cock into my ass until he couldn't push it in any further.  I
felt full.  Aaron reached around my body to play with my cock and balls.

    "Doesn't that feel good," he groaned.  We stayed like that for several
minutes. He did not pump in and out of me.

    He pulled out, turned around, and ordered me to do the same to him.  I
was short, so he had to crouch down while bending over, but I finally got
my tiny stiffy shoved into his warm butt.  He reached behind himself to
grab my hands and pull them around to his cock and balls.  I played with
them while my dick was in his ass.  After a few minutes, Aaron straightened
up and stepped away from me.  My penis popped out of his butt.

    He pulled up his pants, turned around, got in my face, and told me that
if I ever told anyone about what happened, he would kill me.  I never did
until just now.  Nor did I tell anyone that the exact same thing happened
twice the next afternoon.  By that Wednesday, when we had our last track
meet of the season, I was actually looking forward to getting together with
Aaron again, but he did not stay after school.  A couple of years later,
when we were both at the same private high school, I tried to get him to
talk about raping me, but he avoided me, and even went so far as to
complain to the school administrators that I was harassing him and making
stuff up about him.

   Well shit. All that thinking back to what Aaron and I did has made me hard
as a rock! Only one way to remedy this problem. Thankfully the toilet had a
little privacy wall around it. Not much, but I might be able to sit down like
I'm taking a dump, and toss off a load without the guards seeing. I don't even
want to think about what would happen to me if I were caught.

    Four years ago, before all of this Normalcy Act crap, I represented a
13 year old boy in a termination of parentage proceeding. His Father had
caught the boy masturbating, and broke his fingers with a hammer. Both
parents had their rights terminated, the Father for criminal abuse and the
Mother for neglect. The Father is still in prison. The Mother is turning
tricks somewhere. The boy was placed in a very loving and tolerant foster
home, and the last I heard, which was about three months ago at a review
hearing, he was doing very well.

   Jesus! What made me think of that? Oh yeah, my hardon! Well, enough
reminiscing, it's time to get down to business. So excuse me for a moment
while I reach into my trousers and take hold of my raging stiff one. Not
bad really. I mean, nothing to brag to the world about, but I've had no
complaints. Six inches, cut, and thick. Mmm, that feels really good, just
slowly stroking my cock, up and down, grasping just firmly enough to move
the skin back and forth.

Shit, there's the guard, but he doesn't even seem to care. Cool. I can
stretch out my legs and pump a little bit faster then. Oh yeah, that's
feels much better. Dare I slip my other hand underneath my shirt to rub my
nipples? Oh shit, I won't have to. I'm gonna. Uh. Mmm. Fuck, that was
awesome.

   Maybe that is why I was so unprofessional in court today.  It is funnyI
suppose, in an ironic sort of way.  That rape had sort of imprisoned me
emotionally for the last 20 years.  Now, the same guy who did it put me in
jail!  This had not been the first time I had appeared in front of Judge
Dix, but it was the first time in the last half dozen when I simply decided
not to bend over and take it up the ass from him again.

    I argued when he refused to grant my client bail.  "Your honor," I
said, "this is wholly inequitable and you know it.  Drunk drivers are let
back out on the street daily, and my client is a lot less of a threat to
society than they are!"

    The judge denied my request, saying, "Your client is accused of a
felony, and all felons are dangerous to society, especially those who
commit such deviant crimes."

    I argued when he refused to allow me an evidentiary hearing.  The judge
did make the correct ruling of course, since the decency laws did not allow
for evidentiary hearings, but I still requested one.  That is when the
first fine was levied.

    "I've warned you about this in the past Mr. Gabriels." admonished the
judge. "You know I cannot grant you a hearing on this matter, and I'm going
to fine you $100 for wasting this court's valuable time with such a
frivolous request."

    I argued when he refused to grant my motions to suppress the evidence
against my client.  I wanted to prevent the results of the Blood Sperm
Content tests from being admitted as evidence at my client's trial.  I
argued that the tests were an illegal search and seizure, since the cop had
no probable cause.  The prosecutor responded to my argument by saying that
my client was wearing a gay pride bracelet, which was all the probable
cause the cop needed.

    I objected on Constitutional grounds, arguing that my client was
exercising his Free Speech rights and that it would be an unreasonable
restraint on his First Amendment protections if the judge bought the
prosecution's argument.  It didn't work.  The judge not only agreed with
the prosecutor, but he also fined me another $100.  $50 each for my two
lapel pins, a pink triangle and a pride flag.

    The judge said, "I do not appreciate such subversive and disrespectful
symbols in my courtroom."

    I just lost it and said, "May it please the court, and with all due
respect your honor, suck my dick!"

    I thought the Judge was going to throw his gavel at me!  He immediately
ordered the bailiff to take me to jail.  So here I have been sitting for
the past few hours.  I made some phone calls to friends I have in the local
media, but they are too afraid to help me anymore.  The last time a
favorable article was written about one of my cases, a Possession of Semen
matter, the newspaper was audited by the IRS.  The FCC was also into the
homophobia business.  It fined a local station when it came out in support
of my petition drive to open a safe house for gay teenagers.

    Sadly, that is the way it has been here in America the past year or so.
It has been all out war by the homophobes.  From what I have been able to
figure out, their goal is basically to make up ridiculous laws, get us
convicted of them, and have us sentenced to either prison, where they can
keep us away from everybody else, or to sexual reprogramming counseling
centers, where they try to "normalize" us.

    I have heard a lot of horror stories about each from clients and former
clients.  I've been trying to get them out on Eighth Amendment Cruel and
Unusual arguments, but just about every court I've argued in front of has
held it's not cruel and unusual to promote "decency".