Three Days in Jail – Part 02

By Pisslurper

The rules of the jail were strict, but simple and expected. I was supposed to call the jailor “Officer” and “Sir.” I was to keep my blanket folded neatly whenever I wasn’t using it. I was supposed to back away from the cell door and go nose to the wall with my hands clasped behind my head whenever instructed to do so or whenever the jailor was about to come into my cell. I was supposed to be in uniform (top and bottoms) whenever I was out of my cell.

For some reason, calling the jailor “Sir” or “Officer” just rankled me, and I resisted doing so. I guess I also gave him some attitude, although I was nicer when he had something I wanted, like a meal.

Once or twice a day he would conduct a cell inspection, looking for contraband I guess. He went through the whole unlocking the cellblock and cell routine, had me nose to the wall, and he cuffed my hands behind my back. Then he turned me around and locked the handcuffs to the metal L bracket that was fastened to cell wall. So now I am shackled, chained to the wall with my feet, and my handcuffed wrists are slightly elevated behind my back and locked to the wall. I couldn’t move much at all. The jailor then inspected the cell, looking under and checking the seams of the mattress and pillow, unfolding the blanket, and examining the entire cell.

I gave him some attitude during the first inspection, and when he uncuffed me, he shortened the chain to my shackles so that I could only move a few feet.   Then he repeated the lock down process, and after the series of banging and clanking, I was again left alone in the dim cell, only know a little more severely restricted. I could still move a bit, but no more pacing the length of the cell. I could lie down since the foot of the bed was close to the point where the chain was attached to the wall, and I could stand to piss in my bucket if I needed. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, because, like I said earlier, time seemed pass both slowly and quickly.

The jail shower was outside the cellblock, just on the other side of the back wall of my cell. When it was shower time, the jailor unlocked my cell door, letting me into the locked cellblock common area. He made me back up to an opening in the bars next to the cellblock door where inmates could be cuffed or meals could be passed through. The jailor cuffed my hands behind my back, opened the door from the cellblock to the main jail room, and led me behind the cellblock to the shower. The area between the back walls of the cells and the outer wall of the jail was about four feet wide, with the four barred windows set high in the outer wall. At the far end was the shower, which was a single open shower with stainless steel walls. I was outside the cellblock, but still separated freedom by the two locked steel doors to rest of the building.

The jailor unlocked my handcuffs and leg shackles. I stripped naked, throwing my jail uniform and underwear onto the floor outside the shower area. He gave me a towel and left me to shower, instructing me to use the towel to wipe down the shower after I was through. The hot water felt fantastic, and through the barred window next to the shower I could see mechanics working in the car repair garage across the alley.   After I wiped down the shower, the jailor gave me clean underwear and a new uniform. This uniform was a one-piece orange jumpsuit, with snaps in the front and PRISONER stenciled down the leg. Even though the jumpsuit was freshly laundered, the smell of hundreds of men who had worn it over the years still lingered. My cock stirred at that smell, and I was looking forward to my next chance to beat off.

The jailor made me stand nose to the wall, hands behind my head as he cuffed me behind my back and shackled my ankles again. He guided me back into the cellblock, but this time he put me in cell #2, which was the middle cell. Apparently a new prisoner was arriving soon, and he was more of a security risk than I, so the newbie was going into the maximum-security cell. The jailor uncuffed me, and also removed the chain to my shackles, but he left the shackles on.

Cell #2 was similar to the first cell, but the back wall had a steel lattice grate, similar to that of the door, so daylight illuminated the cell from both ends. The window opposite the back wall of the cell was frosted, and of course, barred with a heavy mesh screen, so I couldn’t see out, but light diffused in. My hands barely fit through the openings in the steel lattice in the back of the cell, whereas they did not fit through the small openings in the steel lattice on the cell door. The cell had the same concrete floor, same riveted and welded steel walls and ceiling, and the same door. The bed arrangement was slightly different, with the cinderblock and concrete bed platform forming a U shape around the side and back walls of the cell. This cell had two mattresses, but no desk or seat.

I could get a glimpse of the shower through the bars on the back wall of the cell, and I could pretty much see all of the back area between the cellblock and the outer wall of the jail. From the cell door, I could see almost all of the cellblock common area, including the toilet and sink, and I could see part of the cellblock door. Now, without the chain to the wall, I could pace the cell a little more freely, and certainly without making as much noise. Again, I settled into the solitude, feeling the cold steel walls, smelling the steel and concrete, and listening to the trucks outside and the clock bells from the courthouse.

Eventually I heard some commotion on the other side of the doors in the jail intake area, and I could hear voices and the jingling of the jailor’s keys. I heard the door of the intake cell slam, and I knew the next prisoner had arrived. The sound of him being processed, searched, fingerprinted, and his mug shot taken was faintly audible through the locked doors. I went to my cell door to watch when I hear the doors to the jail being unlocked. The jailor pushed an older, bearded guy, in another orange uniform, in front of him. The jailor unlocked the cellblock door and the sliding cell door locks, and guided the new prisoner into the cellblock. I couldn’t resist rattling my cell door every time the jailor unlocked the sliding door locks, but of course with the heavy padlock, that cell door was staying shut.

The new prisoner had a German accent, and I wondered how someone from overseas could end up in an Iowa jail. I couldn’t help myself from taunting him as he was pushed past my cell. I gathered that he was accused of a serious crime, but I wanted to establish dominance in case we ever ended up together. The jailor put him in my previous cell, and I could hear his chain rattling as he was chained to the cell wall. I could hear the jailor saying he was going to leave him handcuffed as well as shackled and chained. I relished my freedom, if you could call being in a small cell with only feet shackles freedom, but felt a slight desire for the more restrictive restraints.

After the jailor left, I talked with the German for a bit. He was in for a capital offense, and his story sounded a bit sketchy, so I was sure he was guilty. I called him Hans. Soon he settled down, and I settled down, once again enjoying the solitude, albeit now and then broken with the rattling of Hans’s chain.

Even after beating off the night before, I was still horny as fuck. I unsnapped my prison jumpsuit and pushed it down to my ankles and teased my cock. I experimented with pushing my dick through the bars of my cell door, and fantasized about another prisoner being in the cellblock common area to suck me off. The jail had strict rules about no sex, but no one was around, and from the next cell over Hans couldn’t see me. I resisted the temptation to shoot my load, deciding to save it until later in the evening.

The jailor came back in for another cell inspection, and during the process, even though I was cuffed with hands behind my back locked to the cell wall, I couldn’t resist calling him an asshole. After the cell inspection, he released me, and I thought I had gotten away with it. But then I saw him go into the storeroom where the restraints were kept and coming out with some restraints and a leather belt.

The jailor ordered me to put my mattress on the floor and to lie face down on it with my ankles crossed and my hands clasped behind my head. He opened my cell door and in a split second his knee was on my back and he was cuffing my hands. Next he put another set of ankle cuffs on and pulled my legs up behind me into a hog tie. The leather strap went around my waist, and my wrists and ankles were locked to the back of the leather strap. I was pretty much immobilized; I could struggle, which I did, but I wasn’t going anywhere.   The jailor left my cell and locked the door, but he was close by watching me for a while. I have no idea how long I was hog-tied, but there was no way I was going to show him that my shoulders where aching and I really wanted to be released. He finally came in my cell and unlocked the hog tie, but I did my best to act nonchalant about it. However, I did call him “Sir,” even though I hated abasing myself to him.



The jailor seemed pleased that he eked a “Sir” out of me, and he offered me some yard time. The yard was a small concrete area next to the jail surrounded on three sides by a high chain link fence with barbed wire on top and the east wall of the jail on the fourth side. The yard was in full view of the street, and the two churches that border the jail property. I jumped at the opportunity. He let me out of my cell into the cellblock, cuffed my hands behind my back, and led me cuffed and shackled out into the yard. I was embarrassed and humiliated to be out there in plain view in my orange prison jumpsuit, but part of me was excited and stimulated by the humiliation. The jailor locked me into the yard after he unlocked my handcuffs, but I stayed shackled. Most of the drivers passing by never looked up from their cellphones, but a few glanced over. Pretty soon I relaxed and just enjoyed the brilliant sunshine, pleasant breeze, and smell of freshly cut grass. A young, athletic guy could probably have climbed the fence, but I sure wasn’t going to try, and the jailor sat on the steps watching me the entire time.

After about 30 minutes or so, the jailor brought me back inside to my cell, and I settled in again to the solitude of my cell. Hans was mostly quiet in the next cell over, and I let my mind encompass the blankness as I savored the austerity of the cell.

In the six weeks before I got locked up, I fantasized about the jail continuously. But I was a little worried that I would get bored during the hours and hours that spent alone in my cell, with no internet, conversations, books, activity, work, or outside stimulation. Funny thing is, the opposite happened. I absolutely loved the feel of being locked up. I loved the solid steel walls with gigantic rivets and welds, I loved the massive cell doors with the sliding bars locking me in, I loved the little glimpses I could see outside my cell, I loved the sounds of the outside world faintly filtering in, I loved listening for the courthouse clock bell to figure out what time it was, I loved the austere plastic covered mattress, I loved listening to my piss stream as it hit the bottom of the bucket, I loved the ancient prison uniform with the smell of countless inmates that came before me. I absolutely loved it all. And my mind settled into being in the moment, so I didn’t think about the future or the past. My entire world was this small cell, and I absolutely loved it. I didn’t fantasize about being outside, didn’t miss drinking strong coffee in the morning, I didn’t miss my friends or my job. I was absolutely contented and happy to be in jail.

But I was also horny. I could smell the funky armpit odor from my uniform, and I couldn’t help thinking of how many guys must have beat off and shot cum all over these jail cells over the last century. I’m guessing with two men to a cell there was more than a few jack off, sucking, and fucking sessions going on over the years. Once again, in the evening, I pushed the jail jumpsuit down around my ankles and lied down on my back on the plastic mattress. In no time my cock hardened up, and I spit into my hand for lube and started to jack my dick. I had no idea whether or not Hans could hear me in the cell next door, but I didn’t really care. I tried to tease myself and hold off as long as I could, but it didn’t take long before I was shooting loads of cum. This time I didn’t shoot into my mouth, but it seemed like I shot a quart of cum. Jizz covered my chest and stomach and some got on the plastic mattress. I licked the drips off my fingers and rubbed it all into my chest hair before rolling over on the plastic mattress and dozing off, my jumpsuit still around my ankles and my bare ass exposed if anyone could have looked into the cell.


To be continued …


Metal would like to thank the author, Pisslurper, for sending in the account above. You can read other posts here on the Metalbond site about this facility, which is very much real. Also note that Serious Male Bondage recently visited and has posted a number of videos.


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