Reaching into the closet, Nate pulled out the neatly laundered and pressed uniform. Standing before the full-length mirror mounted to the door, he pulled the well-fitting Navy trousers on, leaving them unzipped as he buttoned his short-sleeved shirt, tucking it in to his trim waist and fastening his pants. He looked himself over after he was fully dressed. The reflection of the handsome 26-year-old stared back. Hair…check; neatly trimmed, short and dark blonde, a pronounced widow’s peak at the hairline. His hazel eyes glowed with pride. His oval face was cleanly shaven, emphasizing his most notable facial feature, which was a pair of pale, thick, bee-stung lips. Not bad, he thought to himself.
Turning to the side, he looked over his physique. Despite a two-week respite from the gym thanks to a badly strained rotator cuff, he still sported a toned body, his uniform fitted enough to show it off. His doctor had prescribed him some rather potent medication, as the injury was very painful. He felt much better, having taken the last dose yesterday. As with most pain medications, certain side effects had plagued him; however he hoped the fiber he had been taking would move things along, so to speak.
He glanced at the clock; 7:42 pm. He had just enough time to get to the warehouse by 8 pm. He jumped in his car and headed to work, reaching the gate at 7:55. He rang the warehouse, and a familiar voice crackled over the intercom. “Hey, Nate; Gimme a moment and I’ll buzz you in.” Hal was the shipping manager. He was usually the last one out, after the guards arrived. He pulled in to the almost completely empty parking lot. Hal’s sedan was next to the building, a late model SUV parked next to it. Damn, he thought to himself, Greg beat me here again. He parked next to Greg’s vehicle and raced to the door, the click of the release happening almost instantly as he pressed the buzzer. Hal met him at the door. “He’s only been here for a few minutes, son. You need to quit trying to beat him here. He ain’t never gonna let that happen.” The old man smiled at Nate, wishing him a good weekend as he left.
He and Greg were the weekend security guards at this, the flagship warehouse of the Worthington family. It was a huge building, formed in the shape of a large “V,” receiving being in the south wing, shipping in the north, and the huge storage area at the conflux of these two areas. Merchandise would come in, and be moved to this location to be sorted and categorized for shipment in this room. It looked like an airplane hangar. He proceeded across the floor towards the stairs at the far side. In the crook of these two wings stood a large square structure consisting of an employee break room and restrooms on the first floor and the security booth above that. He could see Greg through the window starting his nightly procedures. He bounded up the stairs and burst through the door.
“Hey, buddy,” Greg said, not even looking up from the state-of-the-art panel in front of him. “You’re never going to beat me here, so I don’t even know why you try; shoulder feeling better”? “Yeah, it’s finally starting to feel normal again,” Nate replied. “I can’t wait to get back to the gym next week. I’m gonna start falling apart like you, old man.” “Hey, watch who you’re calling ‘old man.’ This old man will kick your ass.” Nate laughed loudly at this. They had become good friends since Nate started about six months ago.
After all, Greg was neither old, nor out of shape. He was smaller than Nate, standing about 5’9.” His hair was thick and kind of a rusty, reddish brown, parted on the left. He had a large nose, really almost too large for his face, and close-set blue-gray eyes. He was trim and, at 35, in extremely good shape. Nate like to joke that if he were to show 100 people a picture of Greg, 96 would guess he was in law enforcement and the other four would be blind. He very much looked like a law enforcement officer, and had in fact considered it before landing this job almost 12 years ago.
He was the head of security for this warehouse. He and Nate formed the weekend team, usually working 12-hour shifts, from 8 to 8 Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The weekday team would work Monday through Thursday 7pm to 5am. As this was Memorial Day weekend, the weekday team had requested Monday off, so their shift was altered to 7 to 5 for the next four days. Nate didn’t mind at all, as they would get overtime for all the Monday hours. He was so thankful to have this job, as it paid very well, and gave him time to pursue other interests during the week.
The warehouse wasn’t open on weekends or holidays, as old man Worthington had been a firm believer in giving his employees time to have a life. He believed that they could get everything done from 5am to 7pm, the operating hours of the warehouse. After his death, his son, Drew, continued to operate in the same manner. The employees were very happy, and turnover was extremely low.
“Let’s get started, okay,” Greg stated, anxious to get going as usual. Nate took his place at the console, checking the monitors to make sure they were all operational. As the booth overlooked the central area directly, they were both responsible for this portion of the warehouse. Greg bore responsibility for the receiving area, and Nate for the shipping wing. Every two hours, they would walk their respective area, while the other stayed in the booth and monitored everything from the control panel. That meant that each would walk his wing twice in a shift.
The security system was brand new, having been installed just two weeks ago. They were still both getting used to it. The system did everything from the gates around the complex to the doors, lighting, phone systems, you name it. It was very complex and kind of intimidated Nate, but he was starting to get used to it. Greg, as head of security, had trained extensively on the system with the sales rep, so he was more acclimated to it.
Greg left to do his first walk-through, leaving Nate in the booth. As soon as he was out the door, the younger man shifted his butt to the right, cutting a huge fart through the seat of his pants. It helped to relieve some of the pressure he was starting to feel in his bowels, as the fiber supplements he had been taking were starting to kick in. He knew he couldn’t leave the booth while Greg was gone, so he grit his teeth and dealt with the increasing pressure in his firm backside.
“I’m turning the lights on in receiving, over,” Nate said into the walkie-talkie. He pushed the button on the console, and the immense wing lit up. “Thanks buddy, over,” was the crackly reply. “I’m moving to the dock doors. I’ll be there in a few. I’ll get back to you when I get there, over.” The procedure for each wing was that they would walk to the far end where the docks were, proceeding down the central forklift aisle. Once there, then they would check everything in detail, working their way back to the security booth, checking the doors on their respective sides of the central storing area before returning to the booth. It took about an hour to complete a walk-through.
Nate grimaced loudly. His bowels were protesting now, the pressure becoming intense. He farted again, the smell wafting through the large room. He knew he couldn’t relieve himself for almost an hour. He was beginning to wonder if he could hold out that long. He took a deep breath and tried to take his mind off his growing discomfort.
The walkie-talkie crackled to life. “I’m at the dock doors now. Check each button on the console as I manually check each door. If they’re glowing red, that means the system is engaged, over.” “I realize I’m a dumb ass, but I know that much, over,” Nate replied sarcastically. “Sorry, buddy. It’s my naturally dominant nature. You’re not a dumb ass, just ugly as sin, over,” came the response, a hearty laugh following. “Just check the doors; number 1 door glowing red, over.” “Check, number 1 door locked and secure, over.” They continued down the line, checking all 15 dock doors, and Greg started back towards the center of the building, checking each aisle and between pallets as he went, Nate following his progress on the monitors.
Suddenly, the monitors started to flicker, the cameras cutting in and out. “What the…” Nate muttered under his breath. Then they all went black. At the same moment, the red lights indicating the doors were locked flickered, turning from green to red, back to green, and they went out entirely. The lights in the receiving wing shut down, the emergency lights kicking on a second later. “Nate, man what the hell is going on! Turn the lights back on; I can’t see shit down here.” “Greg, I don’t know what happened. The whole system just went down. It’s not responding to anything,” Nate said frantically. “Okay, go into emergency mode. I’ll be back there in a few minutes. Don’t leave the booth. Hit the manual override for the ligh…” Suddenly the walkie-talkie went dead. “Greg, come in. Greg! Come in, over.” Nate couldn’t raise anything on the other end, just static. He stood up, leaning over and looking out the window toward when Greg had been. He couldn’t see anything. Reaching for the manual override that controlled the lights, he flipped the breakers; nothing. Only the dim glow of a few emergency lights punctured the otherwise dark building.
He heard footsteps on the metal steps leading up to the booth. He pushed the door open, exclaiming, “Man, am I glad you’re back, I was rea…” He stopped short. Greg was being pushed up the stairs by two men dressed entirely in black, stocking caps over their heads. A gun was pressed into the back of the older man’s head. “Nate,” Greg said carefully, his hands raised over his head. “Just do what they say; don’t try anything. Okay, buddy.” Nate nodded his head. They pushed Greg through the door, the second man grabbing Nate roughly by the arm and moving him to the back of the room, across from the control panels.
Back in this area was a break table where they ate their meals. Two office-style chairs sat pushed under the table. On one side was a counter under which was a refrigerator. A microwave and sink also occupied this space. The burglars pulled the chairs out and moved them back to back, pushing the two guys roughly down into them. Nate tried to look for any identifying features on the thug in front of him. He could identify nothing. They had sewn what looked like pantyhose into the eye and mouth holes of the stocking caps, so he couldn’t even see those clearly. Every inch of their bodies was covered in black and neither one uttered a word.
Greg started to protest, but his captor brandished his weapon. The thief put his finger to his mouth, going “ssshhhh.” It was the only sound either of them made. Each guard’s handcuffs were removed from their cuff holders and the two men’s wrists were locked together. One of the captors removed a small black bag from his belt and pulled out a hand full of zip ties. He used two to secure the first link of the cuffs to Greg’s chair. Their ankles were zip-tied to the legs of the chairs and the chairs were zip-tied together at the top. Greg had no movement in his arms at all, as they were held in place to the chair by the zip ties. Nate had a few inches, namely the length of the chain. He could reach back and grab Greg’s hands, but his arms were actually pulled back further, putting stress on his just healed shoulder. With a couple more zip ties, they secured the chairs to the table, which was mounted on the wall. The captors removed their cell phones, walkie-talkies, and disabled the phone system in the booth, cutting the cords. Mercifully, one of them pulled two Big Gulp cups out of the cupboard, filled them with water, replaced the lids and straws and left them on the table, leaving the men with a water supply during their ordeal. They then left abruptly.
“Greg, what the hell happened,” Nate said. “I don’t know. I went around the corner of a pallet in the center of the warehouse and they were there. What happened up here,” asked Greg? “The system just shut down completely; everything went out. I don’t know why. What do you think they want?” “Well, I would guess they’re going to rob the warehouse,” was Greg’s reply. “Wait! Listen.” In the distance, a door closed. They then heard the distant sound of a vehicle starting. It seemed to be driving off, the sound growing more and more faint. A moment after the sound of the engine disappeared completely, the security system began to reboot, monitors flickering back on, and indicator lights coming back on.
“They’re gone,” Greg said in amazement. “That doesn’t make any sense. They didn’t take anything. I don’t get it.” The way the men were secured they could see each other’s side of the board. “Nate, look over the board and see if you can see anything out of the ordinary. I’ll do the same to your side; anything”? Nate scanned the board and the monitors from his chair. “That’s so weird. I don’t see anything on the monitors. There’s no movement; the indicator lights are all red. The doors are all locked on this side.” Greg too scanned the board. “Same here; everything’s normal and locked down.”
Each man tested his bonds, seeing if there was any way to get free. The way they were bound was almost stupid simple, but very effective. They were unable to escape. Greg started to realize that Nate was beginning to struggle quite desperately. He could feel the young man’s body squirming in his chair. “Nate, buddy, stop it; it’s not going to do any good. Just relax, man.” The younger man’s voice came back, an urgency in his tone. “They can’t just leave us here. I can’t stay like this. I just can’t! Oh my God, somebody help us, please!” “All right,” Greg replied. “Just try to take it easy. Is anyone expecting you for anything this weekend? Think hard.” Nate paused for a minute; no, nobody. My friends and family all know that I work weekends and they don’t bother me. Please, tell me someone will notice if you don’t come home, please, tell me!” Greg couldn’t fathom Nate’s desperation. “No, it’s the same with me. Everybody knows when I work and they don’t bother me.”
“Maybe someone will come in over the weekend. They have to, don’t they?” Nate knew full well that no one would be in until Tuesday morning when George, the Receiving manager would arrive at about 4:30am. They would be on their own until then. “Man, just calm down. What’s wrong with you, anyway?” Greg asked. “You don’t get it man,” was Nate’s reply. ” I have to use the bathroom,” he whispered. “It’s bad, man.” Wincing, he began to tug at the cuffs more forcefully. “I’m sorry, dude. I don’t know what to tell you. You’re probably going to just have to piss your pants. I wish I could tell you something you want to hear.” “I don’t have to piss,” Nate replied breathlessly, punctuating his remark with another blast of ass-gas into the seat of the chair. “Oh, man; sorry buddy, that sucks.” Nate continued, “I’ve been taking pain medication for the last two weeks. I got real plugged up. I haven’t really had a good shit for the whole time. When I took the last dose, I started to take fiber to get everything moving; big mistake, huh.” He laughed nervously, before grunting loudly.
‘You’re just going to have to bite the bullet and go in your pants, man. I realize that’s not much of an option, but what’s the alternative?” “Oh, God, no! It’s only Friday night. If I do that, I’ll be sitting in a huge pile of shit for three days! That’s gross!” Greg could feel Nate’s frantic struggling, punctuated by the intermittent fart. Strangely enough, the younger man’s desperation was starting to turn him on. He could feel his cock stiffening in his uniform pants. He was glad they were back to back. Nate had no idea how horny this was making the hot redhead. “I know this isn’t much consolation, Nate, but if it makes you feel any better, I’m going to be in the same situation before Tuesday, I can guarantee it. We’re both in the same boat, buddy.”
Nate was beginning to struggle more frantically, short gasps indicating his rapidly increasing discomfort. Greg was rock hard at this point, his throbbing cock lying across his right thigh in his shorts. He found if he squirmed a little, he could kind of jack himself with the fabric of his pants. The room was filling with the heady aroma of Nate’s bowels. He cried out, “I can’t hold it anymore, man. I’m starting to go!” Greg felt his partner lift himself off the chair, the back of his head bumping the shorter man’s. He could hear a soft crackle coming through the seat of the restrained stud’s pants. Suddenly, the agonized man reached back, clasping Greg’s hands, squeezing his fingers tightly. The young hunk cried out in absolute humiliation, as the enormous turd hit the inside of his shorts and began to fill his uniform trousers, pushing the material outward towards the chair seat.
The short ginger squirmed once more in the chair, reaching climax. He shot ribbon after ribbon of hot spunk into his shorts, the sticky liquid soaking through his crotch, leaving an ample wet spot. Nate finally finished, the room smelling like an un-flushed toilet. He needed to sit back down, a disgusted moan/grunt escaping his mouth as the load smashed into the crack of his ass, a popping sound emanating from the seat of his pants as he did so. “You feel better, buddy,” Greg asked. “This is gross, man; I’m sitting in a huge pile of crap.” “Just relax, buddy; there’s nothing we can do about it right now. Try to take your mind off of it.”
The night passed slowly as they talked about many different subjects, Greg trying to take his buddy’s mind off his predicament. They also spent time trying to figure a way out of their situation, before finally realizing that they were there for the weekend.
Early the next morning, they were both in need of a piss. Greg suggested they do it together. He relaxed, feeling the warm wetness in his uniform pants. At the same time, he could hear the soft hiss from behind him, the urine splashing to the floor beneath them. As the days progressed, they did this many more times, re-soaking their pants, the puddles mingling together into a substantial lake on the floor beneath their feet.
Greg managed to hold out until Sunday afternoon, when he found himself in a situation similar to the messy man behind him that first night. “Well, good buddy, I’m there,” he said matter-of-factly. “I need to take a huge dump. Wish me luck.” “Well, at least you’ll know how I’ve felt for the last couple of days,” The hot blonde responded softly. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t wish this on anyone.” Greg raised his hips off the chair as far as his bindings would allow. Bearing down, he felt his sphincter open, the huge, hard log passing into his pants. He grunted loudly as it hit fabric and began to compress into his underwear. He felt the seat of his pants start to bulge outward, soft farts accompanying its exit. He bore down hard one final time, the last of the shit pile pressing into his seat. He disgustedly sat back down, feeling the copious load press into the crack of his ass. “You’re right, buddy. This is pretty gross.” Just to think, you’ve been like this for two days now. Buddy, I’m so sorry.” “It’s all right, Greg; just try to relax. We’ll be out of here before you know it.” Nate had now become the comforting one, having experienced the discomfort of their predicament longer.
Monday night, Nate needed to poop once again. With very little protest, but much disgust, he pushed another one into his already full seat, the pile in his pants now very weighty. They both peed a final time less than an hour before George, the receiving manager, was due in.
Sure enough, at precisely 4:30 am, the door buzzed. After a moment, it buzzed again, then yet a third time. After a moment, George keyed himself in and proceeded to the desk inside the door to manually disable the system. Hurrying as fast as his 62 years would allow, he rushed to the booth, coming through the door to find the two guards yelling for help, the booth rank like an unwashed outhouse. “Good God, what happened?” George exclaimed, adjusting the scene before him. He approached the two guards as they both yelled at him for help. Seeing how they were fastened, he told them to hold tight. Being a former security guard himself, he happened to have a spare cuff key on his key ring. Pulling out his key chain, he found it and proceeded to unlock the cuffs holding their wrists. He grabbed a pair of scissors off the desk and cut the zip ties. They were finally free. “I’ve got to call Mr. Worthington. Are you two all right? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No, I don’t think so, just starving and tired.” Greg replied standing weakly. “And utterly humiliated,” added Nate, referencing their obvious filth. George looked them over and replied, “That’s all right, son. It’s to be expected if you’ve been tied up all this time. Your bodily functions don’t just stop. Tell you what, I’m going to get Mr. Worthington and the other managers down here. You two go down to the employee lounge and shower. There are fresh uniforms in locker #34. Get cleaned up and changed and we’ll all sit down and talk about just what happened.
The two men went down the stairs and across to the employee lounge. Through it, to the back, was a shower area with four shower stalls. They stripped naked, their butts stained brown with dried shit. Nate was so embarrassed, he started to cry. Greg put his arm around his partner’s shoulder. “Buddy, it’s all right; it’s over. Get in there and clean up. We’re okay.” Nate nodded and headed into the shower. Greg went into the one next door. After about ten minutes, they emerged, clean and refreshed. Proceeding to the locker, they pulled out fresh uniforms and dressed. They had no underwear, shoes, or socks, so they did without these. Nate glanced down at their smelly, messy uniforms on the floor. Greg said, “Don’t worry about those; I’ll take care of them. Go on over to the conference room; I’ll be there in a minute.”
Nate went to the conference room. Mr. Worthington, George the receiving manager, Hal the shipping manager, and Betty, who coordinated the cargo for shipments in the storage area all sat across the table. Nate sat down and Greg joined them a minute later. After a couple of hours of conversation, they determined that the two guards had done nothing against procedure and that the event came about because of a total failure of the new security system. The guys were free to go home and rest. They were given the following weekend off with pay to recover from their ordeal.
The following Friday, Nate was called downtown to Mr. Worthington’s office in the corporate headquarters building. He took the elevator to the 14th floor, and was escorted into the posh room. Mr. Worthington was the only son of Stanford Worthington, the founder of the company. He had inherited everything upon the passing of his father seven years ago. At 42, he was a large, muscular man. He obviously spent a lot of time in the gym, his tight, hard body the result of intense physical fitness. He was pretty much bald on top, having only a strip of hair around the side, which was medium brown and buzzed to about a half-inch in length. His face was so handsome, and his eyes so piercingly brown, however, his hairline was almost a compliment to his extreme good looks. He had never married, but not for lack of pursuit. He was desired by many women, but had never committed to any type of relationship.
The handsome CEO rose to shake Nate’s hand. “Please, sit down.” Nate complied. “I wanted to meet with you privately. I’ve already had a meeting with Greg earlier today. First off, I wanted to offer my apologies. I can’t even imagine what the two of you went through. We, meaning the management staff and I, have discussed this matter, and I wanted to let you know we have decided not to involve the police.”
Nate started to speak, but the CEO put his hand up. “Please give me a moment to explain. This has nothing to do with you or Greg. We have determined that you did everything exactly right. This was a total failure of our new security system, and the company is accepting full blame for this matter. This warehouse moves over $5,000,000 of merchandise a day. After talking to both of you, we have determined that there is no way to identify the perpetrators, no identifying traits, no camera footage, no vehicle description, basically nothing. If we involve the police, the negative publicity could potentially kill our business. Clients might have second thoughts about using our facilities if this becomes public. The security company assures us that they have taken steps to see that nothing like this ever happens again. As nothing was actually taken, we have dodged a bullet here. “
He continued, “I am well aware of what the two of you went through. As I said, I can’t imagine what it was like to have to sit in your own filth for four whole days. I am very sorry that you had to suffer through that. I have decided to give you and Greg the next three weeks off with full pay. I am also going to give you a ‘bonus’ of $18,000 for the suffering you have endured.” He handed the stunned young man an envelope containing a check for the stated amount. “There are also two first-class plane tickets in there to anywhere you wish to go. Take a vacation and recharge your batteries. I want you both at 100% when you come back to work.
Nate stood and shook his boss’s hand. “Sir, thank you so much, sir. This is far beyond anything I could have hoped for; this is more than generous.” “You’re welcome, son. Like I said, you guys have been through a lot. This is the least I can do to help make it up to you. Oh, and one more thing. You and Greg will both get a $2.00 an hour raise when you come back to work.” Nate gasped. “Sir, I can’t thank you enough.” You already have, Nate; you already have.”