Iowa Cowboy – Part 07

By Atlanta Stud

Dave had yet to take his shower that morning when all this took place, so he announced that he would be getting it in while we stayed locked up in the living area, but not before he repositioned my hands behind my back, double locking the cuffs and unlocking the shackle around Brody’s right ankle and locking it around my right ankle. We stood there for a few minutes taking it all in. I mean seriously, what the hell just happened in under 24 hours?! I couldn’t help but look at Brody’s crotch. The bulge was even more prominent with the chastity device securely locked on.

“Does it hurt? Your cock being locked up in that thing?” I asked Brody.

“No dude, good thing, huh. Feels weird. I mean, I can feel my cock in that cage, but that’s it. I can’t feel my jock against my cock. It’s like your hands are in a set of boxing gloves. You can feel the gloves around your hands and wrists, but you can’t really feel much of a sensation from the exterior,” Brody said.

Over the next 10 minutes or so that we had before Dave returned, Brody learned more about my ‘place’ in Dave’s life and how it all started that night many months back with me in a hogtie challenge.

“Looks like things progressed a little since then between you two,” Brody said with a chuckle.

I dragged Brody over to the full-length mirror in the bedroom, and as he faced it I said, “Dude, take a look in the mirror. You’re shackled hand and foot AND your cock’s locked up! I’d say you made some pretty damn good progress yourself lately. Dave’s right about you, stud, I bet you love being locked up in shackles. Good thing, too, because you’ll be in ’em all week by the sound of it.”

Although Brody didn’t say anything at first, he was maneuvering his crotch a bit and swallowed hard after hearing those words.

“How’s my favorite two inmates doing?” Dave said as he came into the room at the tail end of our conversation. Damn he looked great: jeans, desert tan boots, black belt and a tight black T-shirt. “Damn you two inmates look fine locked up, just like a couple of Army boys in the BRIG.”

“Well almost,” Brody began. “In a real BRIG, this inmate next to me wouldn’t have that mop on his head. They’d have taken that down to stubble upon intake.”

There was that devious twinkle in Brody’s eyes and a slight grin on his face as he said that, as if he intentionally wanted to plant that seed with Dave.

“You know, you’re right, Brody. Too bad we don’t have the BRIG barber on hand to take care of that and get him looking like a real BRIG inmate.”

I couldn’t believe they talked so casually about this right in front of me, as though I wasn’t hearing any part of it.

“Perhaps the Warden should check the bottom pouch of my duffle bag,” Brody continued.

With that, Dave stepped away for a couple minutes only to return with a set of clippers and couple guards in his hand and a look on his face seeming to ask why Brody would have packed clippers for the trip.

“I like to trim up every few days to keep a neat look,” said Brody without having been asked.

Dave unlocked the shackle from Brody’s boot and parked my ass on one of the wooden dinette chairs, locking the shackle chain around the bottom rung before re-attaching it around my free boot. He then used the leg shackle part of the transport set, locking Brody’s right boot up to one of the chair legs before unlocking him from his cuffs and placing them in his back pocket.

“OK Brody, you’re the official BRIG barber. This inmate isn’t in compliance with BRIG hair regulations. It’s your duty to make sure his hair meets regs. And for completing your task, I will reward you by allowing you to spend your day in just leg shackles and no cuffs. Fail to perform your duty, and you will spend four hours in solitary and add 12 hours to your time in that cock cage.”

With that, Dave plugged in the clippers and Brody attached the trimming guard and before I knew it, I was buzzed down and meeting BRIG haircut regs. Brody brushed off my head with his left hand as he held the clippers in his right, and looking at Dave said, “With all due respect, Warden, you’re not in compliance with haircut regs either. If you’ve got the balls, Sir, this BRIG barber can get you looking sharp in a regulation high and tight. Why don’t you unlock the other prisoner and have a seat, Sir.”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was being instructed to do so. Dave stood there for a moment, and Brody came up to him and brushed his hand along the sides of Dave’s head and with full confidence in what he was envisioning for Dave said, “I’ve got a 00000 blade for the sides and it’ll blend up nice to a #2 on the top, Warden. You’d look tough as hell. Just have a seat, Sir, and I’ll get you looking sharp.”

Dave actually went for it, probably his testosterone kicking into full gear at the thought that he’d look even more like a Warden with a high and tight. Brody went to work and had Dave sporting a high and tight in no time. Dave got up and checked out his new haircut, went back to Brody and locked his wrists behind his back and unlocked the leg shackle that attached him to the chair. Then he took the leg shackles off from around my boots and placed them at Brody’s feet and began unlacing his speed lace boots.

“Why am I locked up in cuffs, Warden? You said that I could spend the rest of the day in legcuffs and not have to be in handcuffs,” Brody said.

Dave had just finished pulling off Brody’s second boot and both his socks and while unbuckling Brody’s belt and pulling his fatigues and jock down to the floor said, “I’m keeping my promise, inmate. What I said was that I would reward you by allowing you to spend the rest of your day in just leg shackles, and that’s what you’ll be doing.”

Dave then double locked the leg shackles around Brody’s hairy bare ankles and then removed the handcuffs. I’m not sure who was more in shock, me or Brody, but I gotta admit that is what Dave told him, and that’s what he got. Made me realize real quick to pay very close attention to Dave’s spoken words, because it may sound like one thing, but mean something else entirely. What a sight that fireplug was, cock locked and in leg shackles and nothing else, and I’ve got a whole day of that sight ahead of me.

Dave grabbed the cock cage and looked Brody square in the eyes. “Give me any problems, inmate, or complain about your situation even once, and you’ll get that four hours of solitary and this cage stays on a full 48 hours,” he said. “Do I make myself clear, boy? You belong to me this week.”

To be continued …


10 thoughts on “Iowa Cowboy – Part 07”

  1. This story is great! I look forward to every new installment. Wouldn’t complain if the chapters were longer ;). Love the characters and their interactions. Keep em coming!

  2. This story just gets better and better as it goes on.
    The setting gets so closer to being about POWs, its so good!

  3. Really like the stories too… well-written and descriptive … allows much use of the imagination without giving too much away. Keep writing, please!

  4. Incredible, just when I think you can’t possibly make it better bang you do just that! Dude thank you for writing, thank you for your idea, AND thank you for regular updates Sir.

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