Anaerobe on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Rainy Day Boot Torment

Sun, 11 Oct 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Gina daydreamed on a dreary Saturday morning as she watched the rain fall steadily through the picture window in her breakfast room off the kitchen. The November morning paper was loaded with full page color ads for cold weather clothing & accessories. “Boot Festival” the ads screamed, with page after page of often high priced, but stylish varieties of rain, fashion, & casual models.

“What do you think of these?” she murmured sexily, as if the picture itself were pornographic, or somehow titillating. She spoke in a tone addressing no one in particular, but directed presumably to me, as I was the only sentient being in the house, to my knowledge, & I was perched on the edge of a dipping bowl in front of her. I took nourishment the only way she allowed, which was solely whenever & wherever she had time to keep track of me. I was, of course, a mere 10 mm in height, & had been Gina’s prisoner, in her apartment, for months, after her previous Gothic witch of a tenant had shrunk me & paid her debt to Gina with me, aka the leftover results of her experimentation.

First Fetish Ball

Wed, 04 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Austin had a bucket list item to address. He’d heard so much about fetish balls & wanted to express his love of latex by coming out of the shadows & wearing it in public. He had acquired a modest collection over the years, as he faced the downhill side of middle age & slid into his senior years, including a couple of good, shiny catsuits & a fair number of hoods, with a variety of zipped closures, stretch over-the-head styles, colors & weights. Having reached the point where he feared growing too old to participate & increasingly fearing regret for his lack of action, he began to make plans.

Headgear from Hell

Mon, 08 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000

The Research Phase

Ira Miller had been scouring dozens of alluring websites for weeks, now that he had filed his tax return & saw a substantial refund coming his way. He could finally afford the vacation of his wildest dreams, a trip abroad to a week at a rubber “camp” specializing in bondage & discipline. Admittedly, the pictures of the owners of these highly esteemed establishments were powerful motivators, as were the descriptions of the elaborate bondage rituals they held in store for their prospective customers, catering to a wide variety of tastes & sexual idiosyncrasies.

Headgear from Hell 2

Mon, 08 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part one

Part 2: At Inga’s Mercy

Ira already had the feeling that Bettina had prepared him for a domination session that would make his first day seem easy. Inga locked the chain from the second alcove’s arch to his collar post as she removed Bettina’s from the first. She was a solid, muscular woman of about 35, with broad cheeks & a diminutive, but graceful nose with a straight bridge & slightly upturned tip. She had long blond hair that hung in two braided pigtails, & she wore an all black well polished latex catsuit stretched to its limits. Her powerful biceps & calves glimmered in the fiery light of the hallway. “A tight-skinned shiny pork sausage with an attitude, built like a brick shithouse” thought Ira to himself. He wasn’t exactly enthralled to be her prisoner, but, all things considered, he submitted to her somewhat deliberate demeanor.

The Yard Sale

Sat, 11 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000

At the Mercy of Beauty

Stan & his wife Cindy lived an apparently bland, run-of-the-mill suburban life, according to all outwardly visible signs. This naturally included 2 cars in the garage, 2 dogs, a well-maintained yard, & of course, the obligatory 2.3 kids. But all was not serene & peaceful in the world of Stan’s busy imagination, as he had been plagued by troubling perverse thoughts since adolescence, including submissive fantasies involving a multitude of women he’s met throughout life. He often felt uncomfortable around pretty girls, mostly fearing he’d “blow” any intimate or very personal contact with the unapproachable popular beauties in his classes or those he admired in public places.

Got Toys? Don't Leave Home Without Them!

Fri, 03 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Harry had somewhat reluctantly agreed to participate in his wife’s insistence on another beach vacation. “Seen one beach, you’ve seen them all,” he admonished her during the early planning stages. “Look, honey, Mexico’s got some really great deals at all-inclusive resorts. We’ll all be pampered to death, isn’t that exciting?” she responded.

And so it began. The couple’s teenage daughters enthusiastically joined in the frenzy of anticipation of massages, poolside socializing, free night club entry, & an assortment of restaurants to explore at the expansive resort property. Harry acquiesced, although he was really more of a mountain hiker kind of guy than a pool or beachside lounger. Snorkeling adventures were an option he could enjoy, however, he figured.

CFS, Inc

Sat, 06 Sep 2014 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from A Curious Fashion Statement

Monica had no clue as to what to expect from her treatment of Jon. This experience was fueled by her longtime anger, the urge to obtain revenge for the loss of her sister Dawn so many years ago. But passion in many forms can sublimate, evolve to take on a character unexpected. Such was the case as Jon flailed helplessly, pounding on Monica’s firm rubber ass, desperately struggling to escape her suffocating deathtrap. On the other end of the bizarre physical connection between the two, Monica was finding the sucking feeling of Jon’s attempts to inhale, & the squirming of his face & head against her buttocks & crotch to be unexpectedly erotic, stimulating, & empowering.

The Trouble with Pantyhose

Mon, 25 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000

In Her Lair: The Gorgeous Giantess & Her Plaything

The cloudy, cold Thursday morning came far too soon for me; I was rudely awakened from my dreams when Gina shook me out of the boot where she kept me for safekeeping. It was a tall, glossy thick black lacquered rubber rain boot, placed on an upper shelf in her closet, which effectively discouraged me from trying to tip the boot over & escape (the fall would kill me, I reasoned logically). And so I adapted during the last few months as her prisoner, getting almost used to the acrid scent of rubber, glue, & Gina’s foot odor which I endured for endless hours while she worked, partied, or just forgot about me. In all fairness, at least she fed me some leftovers from her plate, provided water, & allowed me the use of a miniature commode & tub twice daily, morning & night.

A Curious Fashion Statement

Wed, 13 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Jon was confident that the stage was set for a successful Friday night out. He’d made enough casual acquaintances in a variety of bars around San Francisco so that he could easily make a comfortable entrance, greeting a few folks as he surveyed the scene for attractive & approachable unattached women. His practice had usually enabled him to enjoy a satisfying one night stand on a fairly regular basis, but he seldom took the same girl home more than once, avoiding long term commitments at all costs. His sexual preferences were fairly tame by Bay area standards, but he’d had his occasional flirtations with kink in the past.