By Atlanta Stud

With spring break approaching, Dave and I wanted to get away from campus, but we didn’t feel like hanging out with a bunch of college kids in Daytona getting wasted every day. We were on the web looking at potential cabins to rent for a week at a state park when Brody popped in and asked what’s up. Filling Brody in, he told us to scrap that plan because his folks have a small cabin about three hours out that we could all go to … that is, if we didn’t mind having him along for the week. So it was set that we’d leave that Friday morning of spring break.

When I got back to our room after taking my shower the morning of our departure, I noticed two packed bags on the floor. Dave saw the inquisitive look on my face and said not to worry, everything I’d need is taken care of and to get dressed. He had laid out my attire for the trip … jeans, boxer briefs, long-sleeve olive thermal shirt, brown belt, my desert tan military boots and day old socks.

I was pulling on the boots when Brody, in jeans, short sleeve sweatshirt and his black speed lace military boots and sporting a fresh military haircut walked in carrying his duffel bag. “Let’s hit the road, men!” he barked as he dropped his duffel bag on the floor.

Bags loaded in the Explorer along with a cooler so we could pick up some food for the week, we hit the road. We were about half way there when Dave spotted another Army/Navy store and announced we were headed in to check it out. With good reason, I was a bit nervous considering my first experience with one of those stores when Dave was present. Brody was in the used fatigues section and motioned me over. Holding a pair of desert tan fatigues, Brody exclaimed “ten bucks, dude! A little wear on ’em, but still good, be great for the trails.

With a little more convincing, I tried ’em on and discovered a great fit. He did have a good point about the trails, so I took the fatigues as we continued around the store and Brody picked up a gray sleeveless t-shirt that had ARMY in bold letters across the chest. A few minutes earlier I saw Dave across the store with what looked like a used weight belt, and for some reason, had the clerk ring up his order even though Brody and I were still checking things out. We then saw Dave at a display case and went over to see what caught his eye.

There it was — a set of Smith & Wesson transport shackles. Cuffs connected to a set of legcuffs with about 30 inches or so of chain. The employee took it out of the case and handed it to Dave for inspection. Brody also checked out the set and let out a “cool set man, that would keep someone under control for sure.”

I then warned Brody to be careful because last time Dave made a cuff purchase he had me locked up in the store and I wore the cuffs all the way back to the dorm — and that’s when he saw us in the hallway. Dave checked out the set for a few more minutes before handing it back to the clerk. You can imagine my sigh of relief at that moment. We got back to the Explorer and Brody shucked off his sweatshirt for his new tee, since it had gotten pretty warm outside at that point. I swear he buys his T’s one size too small on purpose — this thing clung to his torso!

Brody hopped into the back seat and Dave handed his bag to him, asking him to set it on the back seat. Brody opened Dave’s bag to check out the weight belt only to discover it had a metal ring attached to it on what would normally be where the belt sits at the small of one’s back for support. “Thought you got a weight belt, dude, what’s this?”

“It’s a transport belt, Brody.”

“You buckle it on a prisoner for transport for more security. The cuffs go through the metal ring.”

“Doesn’t look so secure, there’s no place for a lock where it buckles. The prisoner can get the belt off,” Brody replied.

Dave turned to him and told him that wasn’t possible once the prisoner’s hands are cuffed through the metal loop in the front. Dave got out of the Explorer, opened the door where Brody was sitting and, grabbing the belt, told Brody to hop out. Next thing I know Dave had the belt buckled snugly around Brody’s waist, spun him around so they were now facing each other and grabbed Brody’s wrists, holding them in place near the metal loop as to demonstrate him in cuffs so that Dave could make his point.

Keeping a tight hold of Brody’s wrists, Dave told me to open the glove box and hand him his cuffs so Brody could get the real effect of the belt’s purpose. Chuckling a bit, Brody said he got the point, but Dave said, “just for a couple minutes — you’ve got it in you Army boy — not like you haven’t been cuffed before.”

So there’s Brody, belted and locked up in Dave’s Smith & Wessons getting the full effect and Brody still looking for a way to get at the belt’s buckle, knowing only too well that he can’t. Dave put both hands on Brody’s shoulders and looking him square in the eyes said, “What do you say, tough guy? Think you can ride the rest of the trip like that in the back seat? Actually, let me put it to you this way: You WILL ride the rest of the way in that belt. Saddle up in the back seat, cowboy, we’ve got a couple hours ahead of us yet.”

Brody had a feeling that Dave really was being serious and chuckling a bit said “OK dude you made your point, come on, you can let me out now.” Dave still had his hands firmly on Brody’s shoulders and said, “I KNOW that I CAN let you out, but I’m not going to. And if you so much as say BOO, I’ll march right back into the store and pick up that transport set you seemed to like and you’ll be wearing THAT the rest of the way.”

I could see Brody swallow hard right at that moment but still had that mischievous smile showing on his face when he plucked his ass on the seat and Dave buckled the seatbelt in place. As Dave was climbing in the driver’s seat, Brody leaned forward as far as he could muster towards Dave and said “BOO!” followed by a sarcastic laugh.

“That’s it, I warned you,” Dave said.

Brody, still laughing, said, “Oh come on, I was just kidding, let’s go.”

Dave didn’t say a word, got out and headed back into the store. Brody had a pleading look in his eyes and said, “Come on, here’s my chance, get the cuffs off me!”

“Dave’s got the keys, bud. You think I can pick double-locked cuffs? Dream on.”

Dave was back in just a few minutes toting a small bag, opened the rear driver’s side door where Brody was locked and buckled in place, took out the box and dropped the contents on the floorboard right at Brody’s shined speed-lace boots.

“Dude, you’re not serious!” Brody barked.

But Dave grabbed the legcuffs and firmly locked them around the boots before Brody could say another word, then grabbed the cuffs, at which point the chains followed suit and locked the first cuff around the left wrist, passing the cuff through the metal loop and double locked the second cuff around the right wrist, leaving the original cuffs in place.

“We’ll just keep the other set on for extra protection,” Dave said with a grin and patted Brody’s shoulder. As he shut the door, Dave said, “NOW we’re ready to go.”

To be continued …