<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>AmyAmy on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/amyamy/</link><description>Recent content in AmyAmy on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:48 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/amyamy/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Bottled</title><link>/stories/2021/10/29/bottled/</link><pubDate>Fri, 29 Oct 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/10/29/bottled/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="october-30-march-1996"&gt;October 30, March 1996&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jen handed him the cardboard tray filled with foil wrapped packages.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“These are for Miss Garabond in number six. She’s a bit hard of hearing, so you’ll need to knock loudly. A bit of an odd one too. Loves to tell stories.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Colin furrowed his brow. “Why do I always get the weirdos Jen? I mean…”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jen clicked her tongue. “She’s not a weirdo Colin, she’s a lonely old lady. She just wants somebody to talk to, so do her a favor and listen. It won’t kill you.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cult of the Centipede</title><link>/stories/2020/10/28/cult-of-the-centipede/</link><pubDate>Wed, 28 Oct 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/10/28/cult-of-the-centipede/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="the-pacific-ocean-east-of-micronesia-june-1936"&gt;The Pacific Ocean, East of Micronesia. June 1936.&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Calder Motram gripped the railing, knuckles white with effort. Only the force of his will kept him standing. Despite clinging tightly to the rail, he could barely keep himself upright. His heart raced, but not from the exertion. The intense feeling of anticipation was enough to overcome even his physical infirmity.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Across the bay, his goal was visible. At a distance, the temple ruins resembled the bones of a dead animal decaying into the jungle. It was an ugly sight, but he’d seen enough of the glittering blue waves of empty sea and the deceptively pretty waters of the Pacific Ocean had lost their charm.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ghosts of the Hotel</title><link>/stories/2020/10/28/ghosts-of-the-hotel/</link><pubDate>Wed, 28 Oct 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/10/28/ghosts-of-the-hotel/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hannah felt her heel sink into the soft ground, glanced down at her shoes. She wasn’t dressed for hiking through the woods. Jonathan was forging ahead, leaving her behind, alone, in the dark.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She called out to him. “Hey wait up.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He stopped and turned to her. “Hold on.” He came back for her, and took her arm, helping her over the rough ground.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Thanks,” she said, forcing a smile.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Jul 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger12.html"&gt;Part 12&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 13: Easy Answers&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve glared at Patty. “What have you done?” she said. “Can’t you see? You’ll destroy yourself with that poison.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Fuck you. You can’t do a thing. It’s made me stronger than you. Craine… You think that it’s just another ero-drug? You never were that smart for a detective, were you?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“What is it then Patty? Why don’t you tell me?” Maeve glanced behind her. Flora was still there, embedded in the goo.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Jul 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger11.html"&gt;Part 11&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 12: Close Together and Far Apart&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve searched the crypt. Stuck amidst the webbing, there was a phone, obviously left for her to find. A trap? She ripped it free. It came alive at her touch, no lock code. There were text messages waiting. She thumbed through them.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Did you think I’d be here? No such luck, thief.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Jul 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger13.html"&gt;Part 13&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 14: Heart Strings&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It took him ten minutes to get to the Burger Bar. Everyone at the scene was eager to report useless information, delaying him from leaving. He ought to be on his way home, not digging himself deeper into this pit.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He pushed his way into the iconic Burger Bar fast-food franchise. He hadn’t visited a place like this in years. If there was a situation, he usually sent a constable to get food for everyone, but he never went himself. Once upon a time it had been a familiar kind of place. They hadn’t changed much from the days when he’d first started out, assisting D.I. Abness.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Jul 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/07/12/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger14.html"&gt;Part 14&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 15: Loose Ends&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;D.C.I. Ridley followed Maeve into the toilet corridor, and she bumped open the door to the ladies’ and dragged him inside by his hi-vis vest. Aggressive. It was as if she were about to devour him. He almost expected her to kiss him passionately, then slap his face. What was this? Some kind of farce?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/06/23/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Jun 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/06/23/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger10.html"&gt;Part 10&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 11: Binding Obligations&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve closed the front-door behind her loudly, as a hint that she’d entered. It was sad, but she couldn’t feel at home here, and though there was something unsettling about the idea of entering unannounced, it would be far weirder to stop and knock on the door, .&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Flora popped her head out of the kitchen. “Maeve? You’re back so soon. Is something wrong?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/06/11/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Mon, 11 Jun 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/06/11/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger9.html"&gt;Part 9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 10: Where the Heart Is&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve slowed down. She might be able to deal with the monster, if it came, but once the glass was broken, there would be no fixing it. Every time she slowed to negotiate a bend, or check a junction, she imagined the black rubber demon dive-bombing the car, six-inch razor claws tearing through the roof.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 31 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger6.html"&gt;Part 6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 7: Repulsion&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve drifted in a black abyss, seemingly vast and yet also dimensionless. Was this the afterlife, or was she still dreaming? It was too much to hope that there’d be anything after death for someone like her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She opened her eyes. They were sticky and at first, blurred. As her vision cleared, she could see through the crack of her eyelids, but what she saw didn’t make sense. She was trapped in a criss-cross web-work of dark strands, liquid light dripping off them and falling to an odd-looking floor with a stainless-steel drain in the middle of it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 31 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger8.html"&gt;Part 8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 9: Sacred Places&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Brian parked his car around the corner from Maeve’s flat. It wasn’t out of sight of the main road, not a good spot, the sort of place that car-thieves liked. If they didn’t take the whole car, they took the wheels, or simply smashed out your windows and urinated onto the seats. Why did people do that?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Thu, 31 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/31/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger7.html"&gt;Part 7&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 8: Attraction&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve was a gloss-black fetish mannequin, over six-feet tall with her new legs. How would she manage shopping without creating a panic and summoning an armed police task-force?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If she covered up as much of the rubber as she could, she might look merely strange, rather than instantly arousing fear and suspicion in every single person she encountered. Gloves would look peculiar, given the weather, but less odd than shiny black fingers.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/26/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Sat, 26 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/26/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger3.html"&gt;Part 3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 4: Old Bonds&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At the division headquarters Patrice parked her car around the back, where it would be a while before people noticed it had been abandoned. She left the keys in the ignition, she wouldn’t be able to use it again. He almost certainly had a tracker on it, and even if he didn’t, he might be able to get data from the cameras, or have his own drones spot it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/26/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Sat, 26 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/26/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger4.html"&gt;Part 4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 5: New Bonds&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When Maeve got back to her flat, it was dark. It had taken hours on the roll-on, roll-off ferry, then a fatiguing drive through heavy traffic. Her car too old to drive itself.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;How she was back, she wanted to call Brian, to hear his voice. He wouldn’t mind, but it wouldn’t be fair. He might be asleep already. It was late, and unlike her, he had work tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/26/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Sat, 26 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/26/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger5.html"&gt;Part 5&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 6: Drawing Closer&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve woke to the sound of the door buzzer. She jumped up and ran to the intercom.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Hello?” she said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“It’s me,” Brian said through the speaker.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She buzzed him in, then remembered last night. Had it been a dream? She glanced down. &lt;em&gt;No&lt;/em&gt;. She was wearing a t-shirt and what looked like a pair of shiny black-rubber panties. She tried to peel them off, but they were stuck fast. As she’d feared. The goo had picked a shape that seemed more like a result of intelligence than chance, and it looked bigger than before, much bigger.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/14/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Mon, 14 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/14/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger.html"&gt;Part 1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 2: Old Affections&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Patrice had just got into her pajamas when the doorbell rang. Just about to get onto her computer. If she’d been able to afford actual pajamas, pretty ones, it wouldn’t be so annoying. As it was, she was wearing a pair of worn-out yoga pants with holes in the knees and a t-shirt that no longer possessed a shape or color.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/14/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Mon, 14 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/14/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="togetherwearestronger2.html"&gt;Part 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 3: Who You Are When I’m Not There&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve sat by herself in the empty meeting room. The others had cleared out, and her last slide was still illuminating the giant video screen integrated into the wall. It made no sense. How could the firearms guys be so vague about the ero-drug situation? It seemed like the news was full of little else. How could they ignore it? But perhaps there was not so much news, perhaps it was simply a case of search algorithms showing her what she wanted to see.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together we are Stronger</title><link>/stories/2018/05/14/together-we-are-stronger/</link><pubDate>Mon, 14 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/14/together-we-are-stronger/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: Wants and Needs&lt;/strong&gt;
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;July 2022&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve plugged Brian’s USB stick into her laptop. She waited for the icon to show up, clicking the refresh button repeatedly. When the drive appeared, the bar said ninety-five percent full. That couldn’t be right. Brian had said the drive was empty, so he must have given her the wrong stick.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She clicked it open and her computer stopped responding. She made a small angry noise. The cursor span, so it hadn’t crashed, or probably hadn’t crashed. Waiting. Waiting. How long could it take? Then, at last, the window filled with image files. The names were jumbles of odd characters and numbers. She scrolled down. A few of the files had something she could recognize, sometimes, women’s names with numbers on the end, sometimes cryptic words or phrases like &lt;em&gt;clear&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;walk&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;wetrubber&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together Is Not An Option</title><link>/stories/2018/04/02/together-is-not-an-option/</link><pubDate>Mon, 02 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/04/02/together-is-not-an-option/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="togetherisnotanoption2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She jiggled from her knees, trying to let him know she didn’t want any of it. It was pretty much the limit of her communication ability.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But hadn’t she said he could do anything to her? That she wanted him to? She froze and tried to pretend she’d never moved. Even this was something she’d agreed to. She wouldn’t go back on her word.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together Is Not An Option</title><link>/stories/2018/04/02/together-is-not-an-option/</link><pubDate>Mon, 02 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/04/02/together-is-not-an-option/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Synopsis:&lt;/strong&gt; Maeve Craine is a junior detective, involved in an affair with D.I. Paul Ridley. She goes to his house to break it off, but a hot and heavy rubber bondage session ensues instead.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve stepped down from the bus, careful not to let her short skirt ride up and give the driver a view he didn’t deserve. She started walking.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After five minutes, she was drenched with sweat. It was still morning, but the heat was already intense. She silently cursed this freak heatwave. Since when were English summers like this? The sweat trickled down, getting in her eyes. She wiped it away, with her wrist, just as sweaty itself. She’d pushed the fringe of her short-bob of red hair back from her eyes with an elastic headband, and it was soaked too. Her loose white blouse, with its little cap-sleeves ought to have been cool, but walking was overheating her. Everything was sticky. She should have taken it slower.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Together Is Not An Option</title><link>/stories/2018/04/02/together-is-not-an-option/</link><pubDate>Mon, 02 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/04/02/together-is-not-an-option/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="togetherisnotanoption.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Maeve cursed Paul Ridley for making her feel so weak, cursed herself for wanting him, and if not for needing him, for wanting to need him. Why was she letting herself hope, when there really was no hope? She’d never by anything more to him than a conveniently kinky sex partner.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;What did she want him to do though? What did she &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; want from him? It was almost certain he’d wrap things up before Sunday evening, but it sent a thrill through her to imagine that he might keep her bound all week, or longer. How long could he stretch it out if he spread the right stories and filed the right documents? A year, maybe? And after that, who would remember she was absent? At least one person, maybe four or five. But the faint possibility still made her breathless. She’d come here today with the intention of ending it between them, to protect her job, and his. She’d planned to do the right thing. But there could be other ways to do things, possibilities she’d scrupulously ignored.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pretenders 4</title><link>/stories/2017/10/08/pretenders-4/</link><pubDate>Sun, 08 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/10/08/pretenders-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="pretenders3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pretenders 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 4&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Cassie was certain that Gabe was searching for her bondage toys and rubber in her bedroom. What would he do to her once he found them?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He came out carrying her gym bag and her laundry basket.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He tipped out the basket and a mass of blue rubber slithered out in front of her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Get dressed in these.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She hesitated. Was she making a mistake?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Return to the Doll House</title><link>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house/</link><pubDate>Thu, 23 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Copyright © 2015, 2016 AmyAmy and all that stuff. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced for profit or without this attribution. The following story contains fantastical elements, and may not make a lot of sense unless you’ve read my earlier story &lt;a href="../storiesad/doll_hotel01.html"&gt;The Doll Hotel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="../storiesad/doll_hotel01.html"&gt;.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part One&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Number Twenty sighed, breath hissing through the nostrils of her mask. There was no opening for her mouth and the air that came through the nose-holes was restricted. A little extra leaked through the eyes, as long as she wasn’t blindfolded. There was no jaw-stretching gag or head-crushing pressure, so by maid standards, it wasn’t a difficult mask, just day-to-day wear.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Return to the Doll House 2: Mistress Four</title><link>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house-2-mistress-four/</link><pubDate>Thu, 23 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house-2-mistress-four/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="returntothedollhouse.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 2: Mistress Four&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Twenty glanced behind her. Razor-clawed fingers extended from Four’s ball mittens, shredding them to pieces. The long claws glistened like crystal-cut glass. Definitely not any ordinary human. On balance, Twenty had seen things in the Hotel that made the distinction meaningless. What was human after all?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Twenty estimated the distance between her and the alarm. There was no point worrying about treading on the lines now, was there? No more than five seconds if she moved quickly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Return to the Doll House 3: Lauren &amp; Nilma</title><link>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house-3-lauren-nilma/</link><pubDate>Thu, 23 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house-3-lauren-nilma/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="returntothedollhouse2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 3: Lauren &amp;amp; Nilma&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She opened her eyes expecting everything to be blurred, indistinct, sleep muddled. No. Everything was bitter-sweet needle-sharp. Vibrant colours and shimmering detail instantly snapped into focus. Too much detail, too much light, too many sounds.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She was lying on pile of rubble, remains of broken walls around her, open sky above and a strong cold wind on her skin.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She hadn’t been outside the Hotel in years. Sun, wind, sky, she’d forgotten what they looked like. Her world had been stillness, black and white, dimmed lights, sterile corridors, plastic and rubber. The outside, with its light, and its weather, and strange sounds was too much to process, so she put it aside. Putting things aside was eminently possible.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica 8: Inevitable</title><link>/stories/2015/12/05/the-secret-life-of-rica-8-inevitable/</link><pubDate>Sat, 05 Dec 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/12/05/the-secret-life-of-rica-8-inevitable/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="secretlifeofrica7.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Rica 7: An Unexpected Visitor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 8: Inevitable&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Erica took her time studying Bea, her face, her hair, her legs, her waist, the swell of her bust. Bea had let her down badly with Ee-Zee. She was blushing but was that a sign of guilt? Or something else?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Bea’s impish pout dissolved into a smile. “I know. I know. I was very naughty.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Erica refused to look her in the eye. “Yes you were. It’s time for your punishment.” She kept her voice even.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Building</title><link>/stories/2015/10/30/the-building/</link><pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/10/30/the-building/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Copyright © 2015 AmyAmy and all that stuff. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced for profit or without this attribution.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The building broods where the cloverleaf junction meets the railway tracks, squat and massive, dominating the crossroads. Its position no coincidence, at the conflux of concrete and steel, where the ghosts of murderers cannot find their way back to take their revenge.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Up where the warehouses cower beneath screaming graffiti and vast pillars carry the arcs of the highway far overhead, where waste-grounds of abandoned development projects give way to weeds and squatter camps, the building hefts and spreads its tentacles.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Distribution Curve</title><link>/stories/2014/10/30/distribution-curve/</link><pubDate>Thu, 30 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/10/30/distribution-curve/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The net said a storm was coming. No panic, a storm was always coming. It would be hours before it hit. Plenty of time to finish the job. A reminder about the time and date of the meeting flicked across her vision. Month 10, Day 31. Something familiar? Maybe some famous historical date. Disinterested, she suppressed the overview. There were more important things to worry about.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hannelore felt as if she was being watched. The city streets up here were near empty in the dark. Hell, they were deserted any time of day. Abandoned would be a better way of putting it. Only the rich could risk it out where they could be seen, despite the darkness, protected by their drones and their privacy screens from being picked off by slavers or organ looters.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Reunion</title><link>/stories/2014/10/30/reunion/</link><pubDate>Thu, 30 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/10/30/reunion/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It happened a few years ago. I had walked past the shop many times. I preferred to pass by on the opposite side of the street. It would be in my view for longer that way. The whole time, my eyes would be glued to the window. I could see better close up, but I daren’t stop in front of it. If I walked on the same side of the road I would only get an instant to stare.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Gardeners</title><link>/stories/2014/10/30/the-gardeners/</link><pubDate>Thu, 30 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/10/30/the-gardeners/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The seeds arrived in an ordinary padded envelope. Debbie poured them out onto the kitchen table. She counted them: a dozen, no, only eight, dark green beans. “I’ve been stiffed. There were supposed to be twelve,” she said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Elizabeth sighed. “How much did you pay for this junk, anyway?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Debbie furrowed her brow and squeezed her lips tight together, peering angrily at the beans as if she could will another four into existence. She snatched up the envelope and peered inside it. “Lizzie, Lizzie? What do you mean pay? I got them from Kevin. I didn’t pay him anything.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Sinister Story of the Haunted Costume</title><link>/stories/2013/10/30/the-sinister-story-of-the-haunted-costume/</link><pubDate>Wed, 30 Oct 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/10/30/the-sinister-story-of-the-haunted-costume/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A Halloween Special 2013 Tale&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This story is dedicated to the people who asked me to continue last year’s “&lt;a href="../storiesad/curiouscasehauntedcostume.html"&gt;Curious Case of the Haunted Costume&lt;/a&gt;” – without them I probably wouldn’t have written this. You can probably enjoy this just fine without reading last year’s story, but I’m sure Gromet will put a helpful link right &lt;a href="../storiesad/curiouscasehauntedcostume.html" title="The Curious Case of the Haunted Costume - Halloween 2012"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; so you can read the old one first if you want.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 10: Unexpected Temptations</title><link>/stories/2013/08/23/betrayal-chapter-10-unexpected-temptations/</link><pubDate>Fri, 23 Aug 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/08/23/betrayal-chapter-10-unexpected-temptations/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal09.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 9: Insomniac Sleeping Beauty&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Ten&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Forty-Four – Unexpected Temptations&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I met Marcus near the airport a week later. He had made reservations at some over-priced hotel restaurant. He was already waiting when I was shown to the table. There was no sign of any bodyguards, minders or hangers on. I had expected someone older – more statesmanlike – not a man of action. My expectations were way off base.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Curious Case of the Haunted Costume</title><link>/stories/2012/10/30/the-curious-case-of-the-haunted-costume/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Oct 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/10/30/the-curious-case-of-the-haunted-costume/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A Halloween Special 2012 Tale&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Aneka was determined to really shine with her Halloween costume this year. Jessica and Mandy always put her in the shade with their attention grabbing outfits but not this time.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She’d been on the lookout for a sexy costume and she’d spent hours staring at the sites that sold rubber clothing online, searching for just the right look. She had no problem finding it but not at a price she could afford. Everything was expensive and after adding the cost of postage from Europe the lovely shiny latex designs would be way out of her reach.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trick Or Treat</title><link>/stories/2012/10/30/trick-or-treat/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Oct 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/10/30/trick-or-treat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A Halloween Special 2012 Tale&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;October 31st, 2009, Halloween&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Horsten Torrens-Sloan hurled the letter angrily at the pile of documents that had piled up on his desk. This was the final straw. He’d already known that the once respected merchant bank that managed the majority of his investments had collapsed; his accountant’s letter merely confirmed that they had no assets worth pursuing in the courts.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Whatever the details, Horsten’s circumstances were now much diminished. His seemingly inexhaustible wealth was gone. He would be able to live, but it would be a miserable, frugal existence and not the luxury that he had known over the last fifty two years. If only he could get rid of the house, he would be much better off in terms of capital and reduced expenses, but that simply wasn’t an option. The house had become a millstone around his neck.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 10: The Slave's Slave</title><link>/stories/2010/08/08/the-doll-hotel-10-the-slaves-slave/</link><pubDate>Sun, 08 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/08/the-doll-hotel-10-the-slaves-slave/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel09.html"&gt;part 9&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 10: The Slave&amp;rsquo;s Slave&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I don&amp;rsquo;t hear you begging,&amp;rdquo; said Lindsay.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I realised that if I wanted to cum, I would need to start debasing myself immediately. I did want to cum. I wanted it enough that it hardly mattered to me right now what I said to Lindsay. I might as well promise her anything, be her slut, whatever she wanted. For a few moments longer I hesitated, distracted by the sensation at my chest, and unable to focus on what might satisfy Lindsay.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 9: Rebellion in Heaven</title><link>/stories/2010/08/08/the-doll-hotel-9-rebellion-in-heaven/</link><pubDate>Sun, 08 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/08/the-doll-hotel-9-rebellion-in-heaven/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel08.html"&gt;part 8&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 9: Rebellion in Heaven&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was left bound, frightened and alone. At some point the lights in the room shut off and plunged me into darkness. It seemed as if I had been completely forgotten. Waiting in the darkness, time dragged painfully slowly. I thought my legs were starting to shake unstoppably. I did my best to rest them by putting more weight on my arms, but my arms were also approaching their limits. At least I had some leeway for movement. I waited in the dark for a subjective eternity. Perhaps it was little more than a few minutes. I have no way to tell. I didn&amp;rsquo;t even trust my own heartbeat as a measure: not that I could concentrate to count that fast.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 8: Deep Waters, Strong Currents</title><link>/stories/2010/07/30/the-doll-hotel-8-deep-waters-strong-currents/</link><pubDate>Fri, 30 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/30/the-doll-hotel-8-deep-waters-strong-currents/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel07.html"&gt;part 7&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 8: Deep Waters, Strong Currents&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I think there were moments between activation of the vibrating butt-plug when I think that I might have fallen asleep and slipped into a dream world. In that half-sleeping state I could no longer clearly distinguish between dreams and reality. I was still in this half-conscious state when Mistress Five and Lindsay entered the room. Something seemed wrong, but at first I was so dazed that I couldn&amp;rsquo;t work out what it was. I can&amp;rsquo;t be sure, but Mistress Five looked like she was locked into some sort of white rubber straightjacket and Lindsay was dragging her by a leash. She opened a door to my side and dragged her through it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 7: Slaves and Maids, Above and Below</title><link>/stories/2010/07/14/the-doll-hotel-7-slaves-and-maids-above-and-below/</link><pubDate>Wed, 14 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/14/the-doll-hotel-7-slaves-and-maids-above-and-below/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel06.html"&gt;part 6&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 7: Slaves and Maids, Above and Below&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Housekeeper took me to the maids&amp;rsquo; quarters and cuffed me to the wall. The Housekeeper&amp;rsquo;s words were swimming around in my head. It felt like everything I knew and believed in was coming apart. The change of language caused its own mental dislocation as well.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I strained to comprehend how badly I had behaved. I could barely believe how stupid I&amp;rsquo;d been. I felt a terrible and overpowering guilt. There was still a part of me that argued that it was unfair: that I hadn&amp;rsquo;t been wrong but the rules and requirements forced onto me were absurd. Yet I knew that everyone else coped with those rules, why should I be special?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 6: Excellence in Conformity</title><link>/stories/2010/06/30/the-doll-hotel-6-excellence-in-conformity/</link><pubDate>Wed, 30 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/06/30/the-doll-hotel-6-excellence-in-conformity/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel05.html"&gt;part 5&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 6: Excellence in Conformity&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I followed Housekeeper Four to a room I had never seen before. It was a very small, stuffy room, more of an oversized broom-closet than anything else. It contained a large shelf with a computer, and a tall barstool with a chromium pedestal and footrest.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Housekeeper directed me to sit on the stool. She then cuffed my ankles to it, rather unnecessarily I thought. I was still able to swivel back and forth within a limited range.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 5: The Mysterious Nymph of the Rubber Garden</title><link>/stories/2010/06/23/the-doll-hotel-5-the-mysterious-nymph-of-the-rubber-garden/</link><pubDate>Wed, 23 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/06/23/the-doll-hotel-5-the-mysterious-nymph-of-the-rubber-garden/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel04.html"&gt;part 4&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 5: The Mysterious Nymph of the Rubber Garden&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;lsquo;The black playroom&amp;rsquo; was an understated name for what lay before me. I couldn&amp;rsquo;t tell how big the room was because it was dark, but it seemed like an entire floor. The scale of the place made it more like a garden than a room. It soon became obvious that was what it was supposed to resemble.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Everything I could see was either made from, or covered with, polished black rubber. Partitions of stretched rubber sheeting were perforated with seemingly random holes of widely varying sizes that offered tantalising views into other deeper areas. Bondage frames and hanging restraints formed &amp;rsquo;trees&amp;rsquo; and &amp;lsquo;vines&amp;rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 4: Just Punishments</title><link>/stories/2010/06/10/the-doll-hotel-4-just-punishments/</link><pubDate>Thu, 10 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/06/10/the-doll-hotel-4-just-punishments/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel03.html"&gt;part 3&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 4: Just Punishments&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I must have slept briefly at some point in the night, as I recall a nightmare:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A pitiful Nineteen was desperately trying to struggle her gigantic breasts into her uniform while Housekeeper Four coldly threatened her with expulsion if she couldn&amp;rsquo;t make them fit. As soon as she got one breast into the tight rubber cup, the other started to pop out, and the pressure on her nipples was causing her crippling pain. While she suffered, I was on my back, moaning in pleasure, one hand pumping my dick, which had grown absolutely enormous, the other kneading my breasts. The laugh track from some worn-out sitcom provided the only sound and all the maids were watching me in horror. My dick and Nineteen&amp;rsquo;s nipples both seemed to grow and grow and then&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 3: Basic Maid Training, Advanced Failure</title><link>/stories/2010/05/27/the-doll-hotel-3-basic-maid-training-advanced-failure/</link><pubDate>Thu, 27 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/05/27/the-doll-hotel-3-basic-maid-training-advanced-failure/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel02.html"&gt;part 2&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 3: Basic Maid Training, Advanced Failure&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I couldn&amp;rsquo;t believe that Nurse Five seriously intended for me to begin my training as one of the hotel staff dressed in this maid&amp;rsquo;s uniform. I thought that the only possible explanation was that the maid sent with my clothes by Mistress Three had picked up the wrong things, and that Nurse Five would never question something she thought was from Mistress Three. Perhaps it was a joke?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 1: The Road Less Travelled</title><link>/stories/2010/05/15/the-doll-hotel-1-the-road-less-travelled/</link><pubDate>Sat, 15 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/05/15/the-doll-hotel-1-the-road-less-travelled/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;While this story is new to the Plaza it is a revision of a story that started being serialised in 2005. It has been updated by the original author to better fit with the continuity of the &lt;a href="dollfactory1.html"&gt;Doll Factory&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="../storieslr/little_shop_rubber.html"&gt;Little Shop of Rubbe&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="../storieslr/little_shop_rubber.html"&gt;r&lt;/a&gt; stories. The name has also been changed to reduce possible confusion with a certain TV series, with which it has nothing in common.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prologue&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was the summer of 2001 in Germany.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Hotel 2: Be Careful What You Wish For</title><link>/stories/2010/05/15/the-doll-hotel-2-be-careful-what-you-wish-for/</link><pubDate>Sat, 15 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/05/15/the-doll-hotel-2-be-careful-what-you-wish-for/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="doll_hotel01.html"&gt;part 1&lt;/a&gt;Chapter 2: Be Careful What You Wish For&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In the morning I headed down to reception, my head still full of memories from the night before. I could think of nothing else but sex and tight, shiny rubber.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Reality was intent on rearranging my priorities. Standing in front of the receptionist&amp;rsquo;s desk, I felt nervous and somehow inadequate. Once again, she fixed me with that smile. All I could think was that she knew I was staring at her breasts. As always, she had the lights off above her, with only the tiny desk lamp illuminating her face. I could hardly see her breasts in the dim light, but I could see enough. My imagination did the rest, perhaps too well.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 11: Metamorphosis</title><link>/stories/2010/03/23/the-doll-factory-11-metamorphosis/</link><pubDate>Tue, 23 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/03/23/the-doll-factory-11-metamorphosis/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 11: Metamorphosis AmyAmy Machine/f; F/f; D/s; latex; bodymod; doll; rebirth; replicate; cocoon; cons; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory10.html"&gt;part 10&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 11: Metamorphosis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I wake up prematurely to see a figure looming over my sleep pod. I assume Kaiser has returned as he suggested he might. Quickly, I’m up and on my feet. There’s no way I’ll be accused of being slow to carry out his orders this time.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Once I’m standing, I realize that it’s not Kaiser: it’s Jared. Immediately a smart mouthed hostile comment springs to mind but I push it away. Whether he’s here to help or harm me, I can’t afford to antagonize him now. I wait quietly for him to explain his purpose.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 10: How to Program a Doll</title><link>/stories/2010/03/16/the-doll-factory-10-how-to-program-a-doll/</link><pubDate>Tue, 16 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/03/16/the-doll-factory-10-how-to-program-a-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 10: How to Program a Doll AmyAmy Machine/f; M+/f; D/s; latex; bodymod; doll; electro; bdsm; replicant; oral; sex; cons/nc; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory9.html"&gt;part 9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 10: How to Program a Doll&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At last the dream begins to fade. I’m inside the cocoon, squeezed tightly inside it and surrounded by some sort of warm liquid. There aren’t really any sensations apart from the feeling of being constrained by the pressure of the cocoon and the weight of liquid. I can’t feel myself breathing, the temperature is perfect, and the only sound is the heavy rush and whoosh of fluid: womb sounds. Like a fetus ready to be born I can feel something is happening and change is on the way.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 9: Submission</title><link>/stories/2010/03/07/the-doll-factory-9-submission/</link><pubDate>Sun, 07 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/03/07/the-doll-factory-9-submission/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 9: Submission AmyAmy Machine/f; F/f; D/s; latex; leather; bond; bdsm; susp; outdoors; petgirl; kennel; fantasy; cons/reluct; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory8.html"&gt;part 8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 9: Submission&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I remember that I’m inside ADAM, slowly being remade. I don’t know why this time it’s taking so long. My previous changes took only a few minutes, and from what Jared was saying these should almost seem like a step backward. I also remember the whiteboard that he secretly allowed me to see that mentioned pushing Eve features back into Lil. Lil must be Lilith, their code for me, but what are Eve’s features?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 8: Doll Dreams</title><link>/stories/2010/02/25/the-doll-factory-8-doll-dreams/</link><pubDate>Thu, 25 Feb 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/02/25/the-doll-factory-8-doll-dreams/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 8: Doll Dreams AmyAmy M+/f; machine/f; F/f; dollsuit; latex; leather; bond; fantasy; bdsm; cons/reluct; XX
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory7.html"&gt;part 7&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 8: Doll Dreams&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We’re in the ADAM chamber. Jared and Gideon are wearing big coats and hats. I’m sitting naked on the chair. Some pieces of ADAM have swung down and plugged themselves into me. In front of me is the sarcophagus, all opened up like something from a Transformers movie. Behind the sarcophagus are five hospital trolleys. Each one has a box like a large glossy black coffin on it, and each box is cabled into the system.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 7: Anatomically Incorrect</title><link>/stories/2010/02/15/the-doll-factory-7-anatomically-incorrect/</link><pubDate>Mon, 15 Feb 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/02/15/the-doll-factory-7-anatomically-incorrect/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 7: Anatomically Incorrect AmyAmy F/f; M+/f; plastic; machines; bodymod; dollsuit; latex; leather; bond; cons/reluct; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory6.html"&gt;part 6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 7: Anatomically Incorrect&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Once again I’m sitting in the ADAM chair. It’s now the third day. Mercifully, I haven’t spoken with the Doctor for two whole days. I have just descended from another trip to heaven. Perhaps it will be my last. Lauren should have made her move by now. Something has gone wrong, I know it. I think that now it’s far too late for her to rescue me, but she could still do … something.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 6: Only Myself to Blame</title><link>/stories/2010/02/04/the-doll-factory-6-only-myself-to-blame/</link><pubDate>Thu, 04 Feb 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/02/04/the-doll-factory-6-only-myself-to-blame/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 6: Only Myself to Blame AmyAmy F/f; M+/f; D/s; bond; bdsm; plastic; machines; chast; hum; mast; mc; bodymod; cons/reluct; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory5.html"&gt;part 5&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 6: Only Myself to Blame&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Four weeks have passed. It seems something is holding up progress on the project. Jared is becoming increasingly tense. Every night without fail, for twenty-seven nights, the Doctor, or as I must call her outside of work, Mistress Alex, has come to my house. The routine is always the same: Mistress Alex arrives a short time after I cable myself spread-eagled on the bed, she removes my chastity belt and I sixty-nine with Susie – as I have grown accustomed to calling Susan the not-as-perfect-as-I-first-thought receptionist.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 4: Doctor’s Orders</title><link>/stories/2010/01/21/the-doll-factory-4-doctors-orders/</link><pubDate>Thu, 21 Jan 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/01/21/the-doll-factory-4-doctors-orders/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 4: Doctor’s Orders AmyAmy F/f; M/f; bond; latex; machines; susp; hum; drug; insert; abuse; shave; mast; cons/reluct; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory3.html"&gt;part 3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4: Doctor’s Orders&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I have money but I can’t get drunk because of the incessant clockwork schedule that rules my life. I still have to have something to numb me. I consider drugs, but the company might find out about them. That makes me notice it’s a bit odd that they haven’t been taking any blood or urine tests from me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 5: Doll Parts</title><link>/stories/2010/01/21/the-doll-factory-5-doll-parts/</link><pubDate>Thu, 21 Jan 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/01/21/the-doll-factory-5-doll-parts/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 5: Doll Parts AmyAmy F/f; M/f; D/s; bond; bdsm; latex; machines; chast; hum; oral; mc; cons/reluct; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory4.html"&gt;part 4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 5: Doll Parts&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I have an odd memory of Gideon saying the words, “…back up … now.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It’s almost as if I just woke up, but I know I haven’t been sleeping. The experience in the chair must have taken more out of my than I thought.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 3: Unexpected Visitor</title><link>/stories/2010/01/04/the-doll-factory-3-unexpected-visitor/</link><pubDate>Mon, 04 Jan 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/01/04/the-doll-factory-3-unexpected-visitor/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 3: Unexpected Visitor AmyAmy Solo-F; FM/f; medical; bond; electronics; hum; mast; cons/reluct; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory2.html"&gt;part 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: Unexpected Visitor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jared and Kaiser aren’t in when I arrive at the warehouse testing station. A chubby woman who explains that she is Phoebe the office manager lets me in and makes me a cup of tea while I wait for the Doctor to show up. She explains that everyone else will be in by nine, but the Doctor starts early… Of course she does.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 1: Examination</title><link>/stories/2009/12/21/the-doll-factory-1-examination/</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/12/21/the-doll-factory-1-examination/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 1: Examination AmyAmy F/f; bond; medical; exam; gag; insert; enema; mast; cons/reluct; X&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: Examination&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The bleakest Christmas and New Year that I’ve ever had are behind me. I’m trying to form a plan to put my life back together. I’m out of ideas. I know I’m close to rock bottom when I catch myself searching the small-ads in the back of the free local paper. I know it’s an act of desperation, I mean, haven’t these people heard of the Internet? Unfortunately, my own Internet has been cut off due to unpaid bills, so my options are reduced.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Doll Factory 2: Testing &amp; Monitoring</title><link>/stories/2009/12/21/the-doll-factory-2-testing-monitoring/</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/12/21/the-doll-factory-2-testing-monitoring/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory 2: Testing &amp;amp; Monitoring AmyAmy Solo-F; FM/f; bond; medical; latex; electronics; mast; cons/reluct; X
continued from &lt;a href="dollfactory1.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Testing &amp;amp; Monitoring&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Doll Factory by AmyAmy&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 2: Testing &amp;amp; Monitoring&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After being absolutely broke for a month, three-hundred dollars seems like a lot of money. Centrelink pays my share of the rent, but there are still bills, a lot of bills. They are piled up in a heap on the kitchen table. I haven’t touched them in days. The trickle of money that comes in by legitimate channels just vanishes into that heap of bills.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Little Shop of Rubber</title><link>/stories/2006/07/02/little-shop-of-rubber/</link><pubDate>Sun, 02 Jul 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/07/02/little-shop-of-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-4"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Dehlia had pulled down the shutters on the shop, so that nobody could see in, though by now it was nearly closing time. Upstairs, Amy was so desperate to cum that she convinced herself that Dehlia would be absent looking for an outfit for a long time. Achieving an orgasm was harder than she expected. Her rubber-clad fingers seemed to have created an unexpected delay. They were so smooth and slippery that she couldn’t get the effect she wanted. On top of that the thicker moulding around the crotch made it difficult to get much sensation to her clitoris. Dehlia’s subtle ministrations had left her desperate for release, but Amy couldn’t seem to get it her usual way. The rubber of the gloves simply slipped over her crotch and she couldn’t create any friction at all, let alone tug or pinch anything. Her efforts did nothing but frustrate her and shameless groans of desperation echoed around the warehouse-like storage area above the shop.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Little Shop of Rubber</title><link>/stories/2006/02/22/little-shop-of-rubber/</link><pubDate>Wed, 22 Feb 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/02/22/little-shop-of-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-1"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Amy had spent her Saturday searching the clothes stores of the city for something to impress her friends at the club that night. She wasn’t having much luck. Store after store filled with the same designer names was all she could find. The clothes were too expensive and too ordinary. Cutting it in the club scene wasn’t easy, especially on her budget.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She had an hour or so left before everywhere started to close up for the evening. She still hadn’t tried the alternative stores down in the Old-Town Arcade. There wasn’t much chance of finding anything there apart from clichéd goth-chick junk and the only places that look would get her weren’t exactly exclusive. It wasn’t that they weren’t good enough for her. Those places just weren’t her scene. There was something a bit too personal about them; she didn&amp;rsquo;t like the way that your personality mattered. The buzz of drugs, the smell of sex and the pump of the hottest dance tunes mixed by the latest rising-star DJ were more to her taste.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Little Shop of Rubber</title><link>/stories/2006/02/22/little-shop-of-rubber/</link><pubDate>Wed, 22 Feb 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/02/22/little-shop-of-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-2"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As Amy was about to reach for her keys, the door opened, and her friend Celia’s wannabe DJ boyfriend stepped out into the half-dark carrying his mountain bike. He gave Amy a smug grin as he pushed past her. Amy wondered if he could see, or even feel the rubber she was wearing and blushed furiously. She stamped into the hall without looking back and slammed the door behind her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Little Shop of Rubber</title><link>/stories/2006/02/09/little-shop-of-rubber/</link><pubDate>Thu, 09 Feb 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/02/09/little-shop-of-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-3"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;On Saturday, Amy couldn’t decide if she should go back to the clothes shop, where Dehlia would probably be, or try to put the whole thing behind her. She lay in bed through Saturday morning trying to convince herself to leave it alone, but something inside her made it impossible. Eventually she got out of bed, and after going through her usual Saturday morning routine, she found herself on the bus for the Old-Town.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Doll Story</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/a-doll-story/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/a-doll-story/</guid><description/></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 2: The New You</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-2-the-new-you/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-2-the-new-you/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal01.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Part 1: First Betrayal&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Six: The New You&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“This is where the action is,” Lucas said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I looked up at him adoringly and let my hand brush his crotch. I thought that might please him. He didn&amp;rsquo;t seem to notice. He was very handsome, and for brief moments I could forget the circumstances and see him as I did before, but I needed to stop that. I knew that I needed to see him differently. He was so much more important to me, and his slightest whim could affect me profoundly. I could no longer think of him as &amp;lsquo;just&amp;rsquo; a man.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 3: Getting To Know You</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-3-getting-to-know-you/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-3-getting-to-know-you/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal02.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 2: The New You&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Ten: Getting To Know You&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next morning Sarah let herself into the room. She was alone. I was waiting on my knees as usual.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Good morning slut. I&amp;rsquo;m glad you know how to greet your Mistress.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She leaned over and grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged my head back, forcing my mouth open. She forced a passionate kiss on me, her tongue probing hot and deep. Then she pushed me away. I fell backwards, catching myself on my elbows.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 4: Fooling Myself</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-4-fooling-myself/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-4-fooling-myself/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal03.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 3: Getting To Know You&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Four&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Fifteen – Fooling Myself&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Just because I could get an orgasm from a woman didn’t make me a lesbian or even feel like one. My mind didn’t thrill to the idea of sex with another woman, even if my body felt something. Maybe that would be a good thing because it would hurt me less emotionally in the end to be used that way, but so far it hadn’t been good at all. Despite the gag and arm-binder I eventually fell into an exhausted sleep and once again was awakened by Sarah. She had a bundle of black rubber in one hand and a bottle of what looked like shampoo in the other. The bottle turned out to be sex lube.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 5: Problem Of Perception</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-5-problem-of-perception/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-5-problem-of-perception/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal04.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 4: Fooling Myself&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Five&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Twenty – Problem Of Perception&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Even though it was so quiet I could barely say for sure that I heard it, somehow the sound of Sarah’s key in the front door was enough to wake me. She stormed into the living area, still wearing the long coat she used to cover up her rubber outfit.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Wake up you lazy sluts,” she yelled.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 6: When You Start To Want It</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-6-when-you-start-to-want-it/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-6-when-you-start-to-want-it/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal05.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 5: Problem Of Perception&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Six&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Twenty-Five – When You Start To Want It&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“A good slave should be seen and not heard,” Mistress observed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I took this as an indication not to reply, though I was always fearful of speaking unless there was a direct question, and sometimes even then. At times my mistress liked to make rhetorical statements and did not appreciate them being answered by a stupid literal minded slut.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 7: Do Girls Love Ponies?</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-7-do-girls-love-ponies/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-7-do-girls-love-ponies/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal06.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 6: When You Start To Want It&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Seven&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Thirty – Do Girls Love Ponies?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next morning we woke up with the sun, or slightly before it. It wasn’t long before Mistress Sarah emerged and fed us with cornflakes and milk in the trough. Compared to my usual meals it was a feast. As we were finishing up eating, Master John came out to watch everything that Sarah did, though he never said a single word the entire time.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 8: The Master Plan</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-8-the-master-plan/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-8-the-master-plan/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal07.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 7: Do Girls Love Ponies?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Eight&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Thirty-Five – The Master Plan&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Master John was determined to make sure we never got too bored or complacent. The return of Master Lucas seemed to have raised his spirits too. The next day he took turns at driving the sulky, though he stuck to walking speed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;For her part, Mistress had him remove the dolly wheel and support from the sulky, which did at least reduce the weight we had to pull. Tough plastic protectors were laced onto our faces. These were like hockey masks with plenty of padding underneath. They were sweaty and horrible to wear in the hot weather. Summer seemed to be going on forever; after getting burned at first we all had deep tans on our exposed skin but the sun still seemed to be our enemy most of the time.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Chapter 9: Insomniac Sleeping Beauty</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-9-insomniac-sleeping-beauty/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-chapter-9-insomniac-sleeping-beauty/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="betrayal08.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Betrayal Chapter 8: The Master Plan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Nine&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter Forty – Insomniac Sleeping Beauty&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We had been back in the pony pen for five days and four nights. That day I had been working as a team with Monica – our first attempt together since the branding. We had built up some confidence at running but our stamina was low. I was recovering quickly, and in a day or two more I thought I might be back to normal or even better than before. The nasty chastity belt was gone but Sarah would whip me sharply if she ever suspected I was trying to rub myself against anything.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Part 1: First Betrayal</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-part-1-first-betrayal/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-part-1-first-betrayal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter One: First Betrayal&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was September 1986 when I arrived in Australia.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was early morning, and after a gruelling redeye flight we finally arrived at Lucas&amp;rsquo; apartment in Sydney. I was exhausted, and over excited about arriving in a new and mysterious country. Before we collapsed into bed Lucas asked me for my passport so that he could put it in a safe place with all our other documents. He took it away with all our bags. I never thought about it at the time. How could I have been so stupid?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Narelle's Discovery 1: A Doll's Story</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/narelles-discovery-1-a-dolls-story/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/narelles-discovery-1-a-dolls-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: A Doll&amp;rsquo;s Story&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Narelle checked over the list of links again and hit send. Most were from the Gromet stories. Cindy Lovedoll and Number 11 came first, then all the other doll links. What would Scott think of her when he read those stories? Perhaps he’d read them before. He said he was into dollification, but she’d been afraid to ask him more.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;His reply came back almost instantly. “So you did read the Plaza and Doll Stories too?” he wrote. “I know these stories well. Classics. This is awesome.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pretenders</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/pretenders/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/pretenders/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Cassie strained against the clinging bondage tape that trapped her arms behind her back. It was so tight that her elbows were crushed together. It was more than she was used to, and her shoulders burned with cramp, but it was what she needed right now. She was helpless, absolutely at his mercy. She kept it foremost in her mind, determined not to let anything undermine the moment. She mustn’t think about the plan.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pretenders 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/pretenders-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/pretenders-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="pretenders.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pretenders&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 2&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sunday evening, Cassie was shattered. Gabe been out of bondage all day, and he hadn’t let up on her. It had been one mad passionate pounding assault after another. She was a doll that had been picked up and shaken, her joints aching. Her ribs were murder. Her hips felt like they were coming apart. She couldn’t let him see how exhausted she was. If he saw through her acting he might feel guilty. It would ruin everything for him, and that wouldn’t be right or fair.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Pretenders 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/pretenders-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/pretenders-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="pretenders2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pretenders 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 3&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The mystery guy made Cassie wait while he opened the hotel mini-bar and poured a generous nip of gin into a cut-glass tumbler that looked like it would hold a liter without filling it. Like the rest of the room it had an ambiance of dated luxury.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Drink. You need to relax a bit.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I’m not on edge. I just need to cum.” Her wrists were sore in the cuffs. It was an act of willpower not to squirm in an attempt to make them more comfortable.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Chapter 1: Good Intentions
Rimkoff&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Professor Rimkoff made the motions of examining her file while she squirmed in the cheap plastic chair. His attention wasn’t on the file, it was on her. He didn’t give a damn what was written there. But whether or not she passed the year was up to him and there was nobody else to appeal to.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He put down his tablet and peered over the top of his glasses. His x-ray gaze travelled back and forth between her breasts and her crotch in a leisurely way. It was plain where he was looking, he didn’t try to hide it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="secretlifeofrica.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Rica&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 2: Rica&amp;rsquo;s Secrets
Andrew&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;With the latest downturn there were no construction jobs. He’d been all over town to confirm that the previous week. He’d never done fast-food before, but it how hard could it be? He arrived a little early to the interview. Trust his twisted luck, some hot chick was already waiting there.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She was dressed down, like one of those girls from an eighties teen movie where the female lead looks a dork and then she goes all soft-focus, takes off her big glasses, shakes out her hair in slow-motion, and suddenly it’s obvious she’s a foxy sex-bomb.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica 3: Essential Research</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-3-essential-research/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-3-essential-research/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="secretlifeofrica2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Rica&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 3: Essential Research&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next morning, like the hungry caterpillar, Erica felt much better. She took the new pills Belling had prescribed on schedule and went down for breakfast. What a waste of time, they were probably placebos anyway.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Her cupboard was empty so she helped herself to Bea’s milk and cereals. Bea seemed to be in a hurry to push food onto her, so why not? As for Bea herself, mercifully there was no trace of her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica 4: Bea Investigates</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-4-bea-investigates/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-4-bea-investigates/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="secretlifeofrica3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Rica 3: Essential Research&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 4: Bea Investigates&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Bea’s new camera cost as much as a week’s rent but the quality was worth it. She’d spent the last few days watching the video-feed from Rica’s room.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She was filled with tingling, almost electric energy. Ever since she put the camera through the wall and seen Rica stripping, she’d been charged with euphoria, wet all the time, and barely able to stop touching herself. It was possible that things were getting out of hand.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica 5: Bea In Chains</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-5-bea-in-chains/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-5-bea-in-chains/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="secretlifeofrica4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Rica 4: Bea Investigates&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 5: Bea In Chains&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Erica knelt straddling her victim. Bea was naked, chained to the bed by her wrists.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I should leave you like this, it would serve you right,” Erica said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“If you stay, I don’t mind at all.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Relief. The passionate feeling was gone. She’d almost done something incredibly stupid. Bea wasn’t her friend. Bea didn’t even like her, couldn’t possibly be attracted to her. She’d probably even had something to do with the boys moving out. She couldn’t let this crazy bitch manipulate her any further.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica 6: Trade Negotiations</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-6-trade-negotiations/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-6-trade-negotiations/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="secretlifeofrica5.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Rica 5: Bea In Chains&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 6: Trade Negotiations&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Erica had Bea cornered in the kitchen.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“What did you do that for? I can’t share a house with him,” Erica said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Bea looked up at the ceiling, avoiding eye-contact. “We need somebody for the rent right? Why not him? And he said he has a friend. We need the rent money.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Cut the Shades of Grey eye-rolling Bea. Fine. Yes. We need people, but it didn’t have to be my boss. Now I’m going to have to keep up this fake image at home too. It’s impossible.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Secret Life of Rica 7: An Unexpected Visitor</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-7-an-unexpected-visitor/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-secret-life-of-rica-7-an-unexpected-visitor/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="secretlifeofrica6.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Secret Life of Rica 6: Trade Negotiations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 7: An Unexpected Visitor&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Erica stared across the kitchen table at Bea, then down at the collar. It sat there silently, open, speaking volumes. “You told me you couldn’t take it off.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Bea, sitting opposite, gave a huge crazy grin. “I may have lied about that, a tiny bit.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Erica was dressed in one of Bea’s old shirts and Erica was dressed in one of Bea’s designer dresses. Bea had even straightened her hair to match how Erica used to have hers. Erica sighed. Despite the clothes, Bea was obviously the attractive one and she was the lump.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>