Wild Boys

"What's your name?"

"Jimmy. Coleman."

"Starting now, you're number 070512. It's your new name, so don't forget it."

The bus started its way from the back of the court where a judge had sentenced me to one year in a reeducation center. The guy said I was lucky, and that because of his good mood today, I wasn't going to a real jail. A guy like you wouldn't stay pretty for long there, he said. I wondered what he meant by that.

We left the city and drove for an hour in the countryside, reaching an ominous building. Not a real jail? Well, it certainly looked like one. It was grey and tall with a serious lack of windows, and the whole property was encircled by barbed wire. We were in the middle of nowhere.

As the bus stopped, I felt afraid for the first time. For the past few days, I lived my arrest and my judgment with detachment, as if I was watching the whole thing on TV. Now that I was facing my future for the next year, reality fell on me like a weight on my shoulders. For fuck's sake, why did I do it? Well, no, why did I get caught? And now, what would happen to me in there? I was not exactly a physical guy, and the prospect of being surrounded by hardcore delinquents was terrifying. All the shit that made me end up here, I did alone. I was not in a gang, I didn't have any partner. And I had seriously no idea about what was awaiting me in this hellhole.

The guard—Perez according to his name tag—took me by my handcuffs and led me to the entrance of the building.

Aubercity Reeducation Center was written in golden letters above the massive double door. The judge had explained that this particular center was only for young men, between eighteen and twenty-one years old. To be eligible for it, you should be a first-offender, deemed not dangerous enough to go in jail. Funny how I saw myself as a hotshot criminal before being arrested—now I was glad to not be seen as one by people.

The guard unlocked the door, and we entered. Okay, so at least the hall was not as creepy as the outside. Big stairs in front of me, separating midway in two, some sofas on the right—surely a waiting area. On the left, was a guy, a fifty-something with grey hair who looked utterly jaded by his job. He was sitting behind a protective glass. As the guard from the bus explained to his colleague who I was, the receptionist snapped his fingers to catch my attention. "Hey, look at me when I talk to you. This is not a vacation club here. What's your number?" Okay, he was an asshole.

"Hum... 07... 05?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Barked Perez. "I told you to not forget it. It's 070512. It's the last time I tell you."

"Sorry."

"Sorry, what?"

"Sorry, sir."

The guy behind the glass turned to face his computer and typed something on his keyboard. "For how long will you be with us, 070512?"

"One year." God, I almost forgot. "Sir."

"You'll be in room 75. Your counselor is James Neuville. Remember his name."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, you can take him to the check-in," he said to Perez.

"All right, come on."

We made our way through a door on the right of the guard desk and entered a small room. Everything was white, including the little desk on the side, where another guard—Johnson—was waiting.

"Hey, look what I brought you."

"Oh, that's the little blond thing you talked about," the guy stood up and approached me, looking at me from head to toe like I was some kind of curiosity. "You go stand over there, and you remove your clothes."

He pointed at a wooden bar fixed on the wall, at the back of the room. Everything felt seriously wrong. I mean, I knew I had to get naked at some point, and I watched enough TV to know what happened when you arrive in jail. But here, the atmosphere, these two guards, something was not right. They looked eager to see me naked, and Johnson called me a little blond thing. My hands started shaking—I was frozen, unable to move.

"Get the fuck there, bitch!" Screamed Perez in my ear, and I jumped and screamed a little. That made Johnson laugh.

I obeyed, and now standing in front of the wooden bar, I removed my clothes the fastest I could, as I was still shaking. In my briefs, I realized it was cold in there, and I felt goosebumps all over my body. I looked at the wall and didn't dare turned my head to see what they were doing.

"Remove your briefs, show us your little ass," said Johnson. Even if Perez was the one screaming, I was terrified by Johnson. His voice sounded dangerous, like a pervert ready to hurt me. He enjoyed seeing me in this state.

After removing my briefs, Johnson came next to me, with white latex gloves. He caressed me—everywhere. I felt so ashamed. He was very close to me, and I sensed his warm breath in my neck. I wanted to cry, but I forced myself not to.

"Lean forward," he said while pushing on my back. I put my hands on the wooden bar, as Johnson went squatting behind me, spreading my asscheeks. I moved my head to see Perez sitting at the desk, looking at me with satisfaction. I felt the latex on my asshole, Johnson was touching it. "Look at this skinny boy, with his hole all hairless. Always ready to get fucked, aren't you? Don't you fucking move."

He went taking something in his desk and came back a few seconds later, retaking his position. This time he also unbuttoned his pants and removed his cock. Oh God, no, please.

"What are you doing? Please let me go."

"Let you go where? You're here with us for a year, boy. You're the property of the county, and therefore I can do whatever the fuck I want with you."

I cried. I couldn't restrain my tears this time. He was going to rape me, and there was nothing I could do about it. He put some lube on my hole and inserted a finger in me. I moaned.

"Ah, you see you like it. I was sure you were a little whore."

While fingering me, he stroked his cock. After what was the worst minutes of all my life, the guy came, like a pig, on the floor. He removed his finger and gave a slap on my ass. "Good little slut, I think we'll see each other often. Now take this, it's your package."

He gave me a transparent bag containing a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, a tube a toothpaste, a washcloth and a towel.

"Put your clothes on, my colleague will take you to your room."

"Can I have something to eat?"

"Dinner time is over, you'll be able to eat at breakfast tomorrow morning. Shower is at 6, breakfast at 8, lunch at 1, dinner at 7. Remember the schedule, if you miss something, you wait for the next day. You will also be assigned to a work shift in the next days."

I got dressed as quickly as I could, still feeling humiliated by what had just happened. As Perez led me outside the room, Johnson smiled at me. "See you soon, 070512."