I am a 39 year old male heterosexual. I currently own a successful software company which employs 22 people with very well paying jobs. I started the company from scratch, in the basement of my parent's house when I was 26 years old - one year after I was brutally raped in Jail (not Prison) by two inmates of the County Jail. I am currently being treated for Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome after denying the incident for more than 11 years.
I was 24 years old and had just broken up with my live in girlfriend. I was abusing drugs and alcohol at the time (I am sober today). On my 25th birthday my best friend 'Walter' was going to show me a good time. Originally the plan was that he was going to buy an 8 ball of cocaine in the Bronx and hang out with me at my apartment in Stamford, CT. When he showed up he didn't have the coke. He had a friend in Bridgeport CT which I had met before. He promised that we could go to Bridgeport and score there. We drove to Bridgeport from Stamford and agreed to meet his friend on the street. He called his friend again who told him to go to a street in Father Panic Village. I had never been there, and had no idea where I was going. Walter and I cruised around until we met his 'friends friend' who sold us an 8 ball. We didn't have a chance to check it out but I took his word for it. I pocketed the bindle. Suddenly lights went on and we found ourselves surrounded by Bridgeport Police. They searched my car, Walter and I, and found the coke in my pocket. I mouthed off to the cop a lot being the dumb 24 year old that I was. I told the cops that the bindle was mine and they arrested both me and Walter and impounded my car. They let Walter go with an open container ticket, but I was locked up. It was a long holiday weekend and I was told I wouldn't see the Judge until Monday. I was afraid to call my parents - big mistake.
The cop I mouthed off to was black, and I hurled some pretty nasty racial epithets towards him. I was put in a holding cell with a bunch of other guys and stayed there Friday and Saturday. On Sunday, the jail was full and the Sheriff's dept. moved me and some other guys to the Bridgeport Correctional Center until Monday morning. I saw the cop who arrested me talking with the Sheriff as they moved me into a truck with metal seats - all of us chained together.
They put me in a large cell with a bunch of guys - I clearly didn't belong. Two really big black guys approached me. The guard was aware of what was happening. The two black men started demanding cigarettes from me which I didn't have. They started slapping me around and telling me that I had to give them smokes... A guard walked by the cell and told them to quiet down.
Then they started hitting me pretty hard. I might have been able to defend myself against one, but I was no match for the two of them. The bigger guy - his friend called him "Hollywood" told me that if I sucked his dick he would leave me alone. I thought about it for a while and decided that it would be better to do that than to be beaten by these guys more. Mistake number two. I was scared as hell and didn't know what to do. I started to do what they told me to do.
Even though I did what they told me to do it was enough. I got more and more brutal and humiliating. Soon I was forced to perform oral sex on the other one "g" and the other one sat on me. He lifted my legs and I was penetrated anally. They suddenly turn into the racists. They forced themselves on me more than once, and I can never be sure, but believe there was a third man. My eyes and lips were swollen from the beating I took and my face was a mess. I was bleeding from my anus. They finally stopped when I vomited after one of them men ejaculated and urinated in my mouth.
The next day I was supposed to see the judge. For some reason I was still afraid to call my parents. I was visited by one of the corrections officers who didn't seem to care much - I'm sure he knew I was raped- and he helped me clean up. I was handcuffed with allot of other men and we rode in the same truck with the steel seats to the courthouse. At the courthouse I spoke with my court appointed lawyer and started to tell him the story - but he didn't seem to care. When I got into the courtroom my lawyer asked for bail and it was set at $500 - my friend Walter bailed me out, but it was much too late. He had trouble getting the money.
The charges were eventually dropped. I hired a real lawyer, who made a plea that I was a first time offender and that the chain of evidence had been broken. The judge gave me 2 years probation and ordered me to a rehab. A month later I tried to kill myself and was confined to a psychiatric hospital. I joined AA, stopped drinking and drugging and got on with my life.
As I mentioned, I started a software company from scratch and turned from a one man show into a 22 man operation - and growing. It was only a year and a half ago that I had to come to terms with being raped in jail. I was dating a woman who I became serious with. When we started dating she told me that she was suing her former employer for sexual harassment. She was very secretive about everything involving the case. One day I got my hands on her deposition. As it turns out, her boss was black, and she didn't only have sex with her boss, but with his friend as well. According to her deposition, she continued this behavior for 8 months. The court decided that her sexual encounters were consensual. I freaked out.
That triggered something in my that caused all of the memories of being raped to come back in Technicolor. For the past two years I have been in therapy (I have been hospitalized 3 times). I found a very compassionate psychiatrist named Dr. Goodwin in CT. that has extensive dealings with prison rape, as well as a psychologist - Dr. Rosenbloom that wrote a book on Traumatic Stress Syndrome.
In my recovery I have decided that I will lend what ever help I can to other male rape survivors. In the state of Connecticut, they spend millions of dollars on rape survivor programs for women, but not one red cent for men. I have tried to take my case to several lawyers as well as the ACLU to no avail. That being the case, I would like to lend what ever assistance I can to anyone that needs help. In the words of AA - you're not alone.
My name is Bill
- Bill, Connecticut