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Introduction:

How do you keep from being bored on night shift?
I'm a guy, tall, athletically build, and was in my mid-thirties at the time this took place. If you're looking for a story full of sex and such, don't bother reading further. This is sort of a diary- a catalog of some of things I did to pass the time alone on night shift in a sort of deserted area of town. I don't recommend doing any of the things I did at work, but you'll do what you want regardless. Just be warned that getting caught doing anything I did will get you fired, arrested, and- if you're really unlucky- registered as a sex offender. Do it at your own risk. That said, one with the telling...

Working night shift in a computer center gets boring, especially in a small one where it only requires one person, if anyone at all. My adventures started out tame enough: surfing for porn, masturbating at my station, the occasional streak through the building. As you might imagine, these were exciting at first, but got to be old before long. A little self-bondage spiced things up for a while, but it, too, lost it's appeal. I started taking my smoke breaks naked. The industrial park the office was located in was toward the end of a dead-end street, with as many empty buildings as there were occupied, and even those closed not long after 6 pm. There was the occasional delivery truck, sometimes someone who made a wrong turn, and amorous couple who didn't want to spend the money for a hotel room, even a police cruiser patrolling for trouble. All said, I had the area pretty much to myself. When I wasn't busy with a project or repairing an issue, I started wandering farther from the relative safety of my office wearing my shoes at most. I was seen a couple times by delivery drivers I didn't notice in time to hide, but aside from that, the nude strolls became old hat.

One of the businesses was one of those uniform laundry and repair services, and they often had dumpsters full of shirts, pants, and overalls that had seen too many washes to be of any reasonable use. I dug through and found a shirt that was big and would hang long enough to cover my ass and cock, and a pair of pants that were just small enough that I could squeeze into them. I cut holes in the shirt for my nipples to show through, then cut the seam out of the ass of the pants. Standing straight and still, you might not notice anything, but if I walked, the pants would slide and expose my ass. If I bent over at all, there was nothing covering me between my legs. I would wear this outfit on longer walks, out onto the main road and down a block or two. While there was decidedly more traffic- both foot and vehicle- no one seemed to pay particular attention to my exposure. I went without the shirt and no one looked twice, even when coming up on me from behind. So I went with only the shirt. I got an occasional honk, maybe an odd look from a pedestrian, but I was otherwise unaccosted. Encouraged by the seeming apathy, I retrieved another discarded uniform and cut down the leg seams until only a few threads kept them together, repeating with the shirt. I walked about a mile down the road- the farthest I had been so far- behind a dumpster and stripped down. With a final deep breath, I ripped the shirt and pants along the prepared seams, leaving me nothing to wear without comment. Then I pissed on the remnants and threw them into the dumpster, so even using them to cover myself would be gross at best. My heart was hammering in my chest as I walked back to safety, my eyes swiveling to every shadow, every play of light, waiting to hear a cry out or the whine of a siren. I had one close call as a car pulled out of a parking lot just as I was ducking into the shadow of an alcove, but I completed the walk unseen as far as I know. I jerked off twice before going inside to get dressed.

I started leaving my clothes in the car and spending my entire shift naked. If anyone happened by, I would dodge them until I could run outside to get dressed and claim to have been in the bathroom, or on break, or some such. I even would leave my house naked, driving into work, spending the day, then driving home without any clothing available at all. Each successful adventure gave me courage to go farther, take bigger risks. Each close call would cool things down and get me to take a step back for a time, or change things to have a 'back up plan'.

Then I happened across a dare someone had posted online. The original dare was to hide several keys around a park, with the final one in the restroom of a club, then strip naked, lock the clothing into a tool box, then chain yourself up. The only way to get dressed again was to go to the keys, unlocking yourself as you went, then retrieve the final key from the club's restroom. This struck a chord with me. Public nudity, bondage, and both a minimum and maximum time to be exposed. There was an element of risk, but it seemed manageable.

I went about gathering the materials I would need. A trip to the local store scored me a dozen luggage pad locks, all with different keys, several choker-style dog chains of various lengths, some magnetic hide-a-keys, and a small plastic toolbox. I planned out my locations- a stop sign on the main road, a light pole in the middle of a large parking lot, a door with a windowsill over my head, a tree with a fairly small trunk, and a chain-link fence. I placed all the keys shortly after getting to work, trusting that no one would be around to notice them, let alone get curious enough to investigate or take them.

I finished the little work I had to do for the night and shivered with anticipation. I locked up the office with my clothes 'safely' hidden at my station and went to the tree. I locked my office key in the tool box and the tool box to the tree. Click, I was committed to at least finding the key to the tool box, located on the back of the stop sign. Before I could think about chickening out, I went about chaining myself up. I used a long chain to tie my ankles together with about two feet of slack. I would be slowed, but could walk. Another long chain went from the center of the ankle chains to a chain around my ball sac. Too big of a step would be painful, but otherwise there was just a small tug and it kept the chain from tripping me or dragging on the ground. Another long chain went around my waist, with a shorter one fastened at the small of my back. I looped one end of the smaller chain around a wrist and locked it in place. The familiar thrill and fear raced through me. I stroked myself but didn't let myself cum, then quickly locked my other wrist behind my back. I stood there for a moment, fully erect, breathing hard, completely nude, hobbled, and my hands locked behind my back. My only choice now was to get all five keys before being discovered or the businesses opening for the day.

I hurried as fast as I could to the first key- the light post in the parking lot. I reached the edge of the lot before long and with only two or three hard tugs on my ball chain. I waited and watched. Traffic had not died off completely, and there was a regular series of cars going by. I started getting nervous, wondering if I'd taken too big of a risk with the placement of the key. After about ten minutes, I took a deep breath and set off, hoping that the people driving by were too absorbed in their lives to notice the chained naked guy waking across the parking lot. I got to the post and squatted down at the base. I sat there for a minute, my back to the road, trying to catch my breath and slow my heart a little, then went about working the key out of the hide-a-key box. This was for the lock holding my wrists to my waist. Once I opened the lock, I could slide my wrist-chain under my ass and pull my hands out in front of me. Still not ideal, but better than being completely helpless. I closed the lock back down on the waist chain and, carrying the key and box, crossed back to the shadowed edge of the parking lot. I let out a relieved sigh as I reached the darkness. I'd made it without being seen.

My next stop was the fence, which would unlock my ankles. I had gotten used to the stride and made my way quickly to the next point. The key was fastened a little over waist high on the fence with a lock, the key for which was also in the hide-a-key I carried, midway between two streetlights. I had to walk about 50 feet along the fence to get to the key, exposed and lit. The fence was on my dead-end street, so traffic shouldn't have been a problem. Terrified, I made it to the key without anyone coming by. I quickly retrieved the key and unlocked my ankles. I tucked the chain into the one around my waist and secured it there with the just opened locks, then quickly jogged to the shadows again. Having full use of my legs again, eased some of my fears, because at least I could run if need be.

Next was the windowsill with the key to my wrists. It was also on the dead-end street, but at the other end so quite a distance. Feeling braver, I walked down the middle of the street, the blacktop still warm on my bare feet. I got to the door and reached up for the key and froze. It wasn't there. I stepped back, trying to see up, thinking that maybe I had the wrong spot. The key box was not up on the ledge, or the ledge to either side. Panicked, I looked around and almost cried out when I saw the box laying on the sidewalk nearby. Somehow it had been blown or rattled off the sill. Quickly, I opened it to make sure the key was still inside, then unlocked my wrists. I was now completely freed from my restraints, but still locked out of my office. One last key, and two stops to go.

The stop sign with the last key took me past my office, so I dropped the collection of chains and such off next to the door. To get to the sign, I had to cross about 100 yards of open field that was cut down regularly but was still undeveloped. I had three choices: 1) I could stroll down the main street on the sidewalk, with cars going by at irregular intervals; 2) walk down the dead-end street with the chance of stepping on pieces of broken glass left by littering drunks and infrequent street sweepers; or 3) cross the field with it's dirt, mud, and possible sticker plants and bugs. Time ticked by as I looked at my options and considered. I finally decided on the field, figuring that the short grass might at least provide me a little concealment if need be. I could always wash off any mud and muck back in safety. I kept crouched, ready to lay flat at a moments warning, and at a speed that I hoped would get me there quickly but without calling undue attention of anyone I didn't see first. The sign never looked to be getting closer, and the seconds seems hours. I had to lay flat twice as cars came by, and froze several times as cars I didn't see until too late passed. Finally, I reached my prize. I quickly snatched the key box, turned, and ran across the field, uncaring who might see my bare ass now.

I stayed at a run until I reached the tree with the tool box attached. Giddy, exhausted from the stress and thrill, and excited beyond anything I had felt before, I masturbated until I came. I reached down and unlocked the box, gathered everything up and went back to the office, again strolling down the middle of the street. I was 15 feet past the warehouse where a crew was loading a delivery truck before I realized they were there. I shrugged and kept walking, trying to act like there was nothing out of the ordinary, and heard some chuckles and muttered comments. I walked past my office and doubled back in case any of them took enough interest to see where I was headed.

I gathered the last of my gear into the tool box and let myself into the office. After a quick wash up in the sink, I finished off the little work that had trickled in during my adventure and headed home, leaving both clothes and my adventure gear stashed at my station.

Over the next couple of weeks, I did the series a couple times, varying how I was bound, where the keys and tool box were hidden, and the required sequence. After a close call that had me hiding in a dumpster for an hour while an unfortunately time police patrol decided to stop and write his shift reports in the parking lot I had been crossing, I decided that I would take a break from my adventures. Soon, the weather turned cold enough that I couldn't be outside naked without risking injury, and I was moved to the day shift not long after that. I sighed, resigned to the end of my playtime, but it wasn't long before I found that even during the day there were opportunities for my naked adventures. But that is for a later time.
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