This story happened two years ago, when I was 19 years old. One summer day, in mid-July, I was leaving the gym in my neighborhood and heading home for dinner. On this route, I have to cross a rather deserted area, but nothing had ever happened to me before, and I had never heard that it was a particularly dangerous place. At the end of the deserted area, there was a group of small, one-story houses that looked very old and had been inhabited by humble people for a long time until one of them was rented by a large group of Moroccan immigrants who had settled there temporarily. Now I remember that in the previous weeks, I had seen young North African men (always men) sitting at the door, talking to each other, but without any signs of aggression; and now I realize that they had been eyeing me from the beginning - since I took that path frequently - and were only waiting for their opportunity to take advantage of my helplessness. The truth is that I'm a handsome guy, dark-skinned, muscular from exercise, and with some success among girls. That day, confidently and without giving it much importance, I passed in front of the Moroccans' house again, listening to music on my Walkman, so I didn't notice the footsteps of two young men approaching me from behind.

When I tried to react, they had already grabbed me between the two of them, and taking advantage of the surprise factor, they got rid of my sports bag and Walkman and subdued me, not without resistance from my part, but the fact is that soon three more Moroccans arrived, shouting loudly in Arabic, and between the five of them, they held me by the arms and legs while one of them tried to put a rag on my face to prevent me from screaming. I was very nervous because they were talking very loudly, and I kept shouting at them: "I don't have any money... I don't have any money!", convinced that they only wanted to rob me.

They took me inside the house, and I will never forget what I saw that day. There were about fifteen young men, between 18 and 30 years old, crammed into two small, ruined rooms, and the floor was covered everywhere with mattresses, plastic remains, and even plates of rice. They threw me face down on an old, sweaty mattress, and one of them, who appeared to be the youngest, about eighteen years old, approached me and pulled down my sweatpants and boxers amidst the complicit laughter of his companions. I was stunned. Amidst the commotion, all the inhabitants of the hovel had gathered around me, and when they saw my ass, I could notice that they were very impressed. I don't know if it's due to my constitution or the sports, but I have a very well-formed, arched, and muscular ass.

One of the Moroccans, who must have been around 25 years old and seemed to lead his companions, approached quickly and started giving me alternating slaps on the buttocks, making my ass more than rosy and involuntarily giving me a huge erection, which seemed to excite many of those pre...