<?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>Jezziebelle on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/jezziebelle/</link><description>Recent content in Jezziebelle 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/jezziebelle/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Dream Assignment 4 - For You</title><link>/stories/2006/06/01/dream-assignment-4-for-you/</link><pubDate>Thu, 01 Jun 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/06/01/dream-assignment-4-for-you/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="dream_assignment3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dream Assignment 3 - Three Times Free&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bound hand and foot, Josie is awaiting whatever plans Jack has in
store for her&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4 - For You&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Josie&amp;rsquo;s hands were bound with rope behind her back. Her ankles were
also roped together, and a ball gag stretched her mouth and silenced her
very effectively. Hair dishevelled and dress disarranged as she&amp;rsquo;d struggled
very pleasurably against being tied up, she now lay on her side in the
middle of the biggest playroom in Jack&amp;rsquo;s exclusive BDSM club, waiting for
him. They were alone now.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Last Train to Grimsby</title><link>/stories/2005/06/12/last-train-to-grimsby/</link><pubDate>Sun, 12 Jun 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/06/12/last-train-to-grimsby/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Packaged Story Contest 2005 Entrant&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The train clanked on through dark, damp countryside towards its unattractive
destination. Scattered sparsely around its seats, the passengers were largely
late-night commuters, looking tired in business clothes.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Joe had been unobtrusively watching the woman who sat opposite him several
seats away on the dimly lit, rattling train for some time now. She was
clearly tired, and hadn’t noticed him. She wore a demure yet stylish blouse
and skirt, and elegant heels. As he turned the page of his newspaper and
flicked another glance her way, she shifted in her seat and gave a sigh.
In his mind’s eye, the sigh came filtered through a thick layer of packing
material, and the slight movements of her body were against the ropes that
held her tightly balled. In reality, she crossed her legs, took a sip from
a bottle of water, and rested her head back against the headrest, eyes
closed, oblivious of his attention.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Industrial Espionage</title><link>/stories/2005/05/01/industrial-espionage/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 May 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/05/01/industrial-espionage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;For the last bondage scenario in this story, I am indebted to the
wonderful website &lt;a href="https://www.houseofgord.com"&gt;www.houseofgord.com&lt;/a&gt; and a picture I once saw there. I
usually come up with my own ideas, but this one is so damn cool I had to
pay it tribute!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I awoke in darkness. Last time I’d been conscious, I’d been in a light,
bright, sterile environment. Now, my eyes opened to nothing but blackness
and a soft, musty smell arose from what felt like old floorboards beneath
me. Disconcerted, I closed my eyes again and concentrated on the sensations
from the rest of my body. I was chilled from inertia – from lying on the
floor in a strange place for god knows how long, and naked to boot. I could
feel the air circulating over my skin, and the vaguely warm, rough surface
of the wooden floor beneath me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Metaphysics</title><link>/stories/2005/03/18/metaphysics/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 Mar 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/03/18/metaphysics/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I had a moment of metaphysical vertigo last night, lying on my back
in the garden gazing up at the stars.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So many stars, all wheeling round the zodiac; billions upon trillions,
with countless millions of little rocky planets, all asking questions&amp;hellip;
not spiritual, but more earthy. What the hell is all this? What is matter
made from? Why does it all exist? Where is existence located?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Somewhere above me, on one of the spinning worlds an alien woman surely
lay on her back in her garden, gazing back at me, and wondering the same
things.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Call My Bluff</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/call-my-bluff/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/call-my-bluff/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;So here
they were, fifth or was it sixth date, standing outside her front door after a
long evening of really quite serious flirting, and he took hold of her wrists
and held them quite firmly against her sides as he kissed her. This time, she
let loose an almost imperceptible moan, and when he stood back her eyes were
gleaming.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;All of
sudden, Jamey couldn&amp;rsquo;t feel the cold. She left her hands where he&amp;rsquo;d placed
them and gazed at him with a smile on her lips, calling silently for more,
wondering deep inside if he might be just that little bit dominant. It was about
bloody time one of the men in this damn town showed he could treat her like the
proverbial princess in the street, and like a rope-loving slave girl in the
bedroom.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cold Feet</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/cold-feet/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/cold-feet/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The view was once-in-a-lifetime, glimpse-of-heaven beautiful. Beneath
the cool, spacious wooden-walled hut with its 360 degree balcony lay the
deep green forest, undulating in all directions. The air was filled with
a tropical hum.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As she gazed out silently towards the horizon, she felt his hands encircle
her waist from behind and he held her close, drinking in her scent and
the damp, leafy aroma that arose from the sun-warmed trees far below.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Conspiracy 1</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/conspiracy-1/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/conspiracy-1/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;An action packed bondage thriller with an eco-friendly theme…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jenna awoke, not knowing what the noise had been but knowing she’d heard
one. She switched on the bedside light, blinked blearily at the clock (3am)
and debated whether or not to investigate.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Deciding against it, she flicked off the light and was about to close
her eyes when the glow coming from under her bedroom door made her sit
up straight in bed.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Conspiracy 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/conspiracy-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/conspiracy-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="conspiracy.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conspiracy 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Investigative journalist Jenna has
been caught trespassing on shady entrepreneur Rob Fletcher’s property…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The corporate party at Rob Fletcher’
shady enterprise was in full swing. Jenna, of course, had found herself to be
too tied up to attend…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Rob circled round the party, greeting
friends, acquaintances and business partners warmly. A few he took aside into a
corner and murmured something quietly to them, each time resulting in a pair of
wide eyes and an eager nod.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Conspiracy 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/conspiracy-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/conspiracy-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="conspiracy2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conspiracy 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Investigative journalist Jenna has
unearthed a conspiracy that goes right to the heart of government. Conspirator
Rob Fletcher has locked her in his cellar till she promises to keep her mouth
shut, and Jenna doesn’t know how much longer she can hold out…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conspiracy Part 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Rob let
Jenna sleep for several hours in the morning. Having spent 14 hours tightly
strapped upright to a pole in his cellar, she needed the rest. She also
desperately needed to come, but as that was his hold over her, he wasn’t going
to let that happen. She slept cuffed and gagged, her arms behind her to stop her
touching herself, her mouth covered with tape to stop her distracting him with
her shouts.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dream Assignment</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/dream-assignment/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/dream-assignment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;For some, it might have been a dream assignment. Josie wasn&amp;rsquo;t so sure.
She&amp;rsquo;d been sent to research and write a feature article for the hip magazine
she&amp;rsquo;d been dying to work for, ever since she&amp;rsquo;d embarked on her journalism
career. But the glint in the eye of the editor had told her to beware.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The editor was sending her to the newest club in town, to review it.
Alright, thought Josie, as she dressed for her interview with the club
owner, I can do this. It&amp;rsquo;s just a review, a few witty comments and a little
psychological analysis of the clients. Easy. Just try to ignore the fact
that the club is in fact a sex club&amp;rsquo; well, not sex exactly, not in the
sense of back street brothels and dodgy lapdancing joints. It was an exclusive,
highly-regarded club. It was, of course, expensive. The owner was very
selective about the clients he admitted, but had been known to give freebies
to those he thought would really appreciate what the club had to offer.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dream Assignment 2 - Second Helpings</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/dream-assignment-2-second-helpings/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/dream-assignment-2-second-helpings/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="dream_assignment.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dream Assignment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;This story stands on its own, but it is actually a sequel &amp;ndash; a while
ago I wrote a story called Dream Assignment, which is in the archives of
this site. If you didn&amp;rsquo;t read Dream Assignment, all you need to know is
that Jack, the owner of a rather up market bondage club, initiated journalist
Josie into its pleasures as she researched an article on the club for her
new magazine. The article has just been published, and everyone is reading
it&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dream Assignment 3 - Three Times Free</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/dream-assignment-3-three-times-free/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/dream-assignment-3-three-times-free/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="dream_assignment2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dream Assignment 2 - Second Helpings&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_&lt;em&gt;Jack, the owner and expert practitioner at an upmarket BDSM club,
is falling for Josie, a journalist and bondage novice who has now been
twice made helpless at his hands&amp;hellip;&lt;/em&gt;
 
story continues from &lt;a href="dream_assignment.html"&gt;Part 1 - Dream Assignment&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three - Three Times Free&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jack lifted the exhausted, sweat-drenched figure of Josie into his arms
and carried her unprotestingly upstairs to one of the bedrooms that his
BDSM club made available for the couples that frequented the establishment
together.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Night Train</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/night-train/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/night-train/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story stands on its own, but it is actually a sequel – a while
ago I wrote a story called Dream Assignment, which is in the archives of
this site. If you didn’t read Dream Assignment, all you need to know is
that Jack, the owner of a rather up market bondage club, initiated journalist
Josie into its pleasures as she researched an article on the club for her
new magazine. The article has just been published, and everyone is reading
it…&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Oranges &amp; Lemons</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/oranges-lemons/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/oranges-lemons/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Their dark eyes lit up as they smiled and said in unison, ‘We’re bell
ringers.’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘Well, blimey&amp;hellip;’ she replied, laughing, as she split her wine and brushed
it off her dress. ‘You don’t hear that every day.’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She sat on a bar stool, and they stood beside her: two very beautiful,
tall, dark men, perhaps a year or two younger than her, and almost identical.
They’d approached her when her girl friend had stood her up for the flu.
She was going to stay for just one drink, but then they’d said hello with
their kind smiles and very intriguing eyes and she’d stayed. Strange, though&amp;hellip;
she almost had the feeling they were hunting her. Not that she felt in
any way in danger. It was the way they both came up together, both equally
interested in her, neither backing off to let his brother take the spoils.
It was either both, or neither. She tried to stop herself imagining both
in bed with her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Initiation 1</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-1/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-1/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AMY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;They were just sitting there on the coffee table when I came in from
work, dumping my coat and bag on the sofa and freezing the moment I spotted
them. Just sitting there, as if every home accessorises its coffee table
with such things…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Glancing around to see my fiancé was home yet, I reached out
a quavering hand and picked them up, standing in my work attire to examine
them. Cold, shiny, and metal… an authentic looking pair of handcuffs, but,
I soon discovered, with a release mechanism instead of a key. Possibly,
or possibly not, capable of being opened by the wearer.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Initiation 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="initiation1.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Initiation 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ROB&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Amy kinky! That really shocked me. She had seemed so normal and now
her request that I tie, cuff, spank and dominate her in the bedroom had
me thinking.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I am so bloody relieved that it’s me she wants to do it and she is not
wanting someone else to do it is a weight off my mind.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But fucking hell! Dominate her! Shit!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Initiation 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="initiation2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Initiation 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ROB&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Walking round Asda I am kept in constant state of arousal.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The thought of my proud and stubborn wife to be waiting for me in handcuffs
and leg irons had a certain poignancy that makes me walk funny due to a
hard on the size of the Blackpool Tower.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She has changed my outlook on her and she has also made me wonder if
I know her at all. I have to reassess my life style and how I will have
to treat her. Before I used to treat her with kid gloves and after my first
divorce had decided to treat her as a lady, and now she wanted to make
her my slave. God, it was a total come about.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Initiation 4</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-4/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="initiation3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Initiation 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ROB&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Amy is sitting opposite me on the bus from the airport, her foot entwined
with mine as she looks out of the window. A slight blush runs across her
face as she thinks of something. Horny, probably.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She has become so sexual since I placed her in irons last week. We have
made love so much more since then.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Wish I had done it before but as I didn&amp;rsquo;t know then… bugger! I think.
I really thought I did know her and now I don’t even know myself.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Initiation 5</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-5/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-5/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="initiation4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Initiation 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AMY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The rolling door clatters shut, and I’m left in the twilight of the garage,
naked, bound, screaming into my gag as I writhe on the floor into what will
probably be the first orgasm of many.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We’d spent a couple of nice, normal days, holidaying like any vanilla
couple, enjoying each other’s company. Then, at seven this morning, as I
slowly woke from a long, refreshing sleep, Rob grabbed my hair, pulled my head
back – not painfully, but so that I couldn’t struggle – and plastered a
wide strip of duct tape over my mouth.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Initiation 6</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-6/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-6/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="initiation5.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Initiation 5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AMY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The last night of our holiday, neither of us could have predicted how things
would turn out.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Rob stands me in front of him, naked, fresh from my bath, hair done up on top
of my head and ready to get dressed for the evening of cocktails and dancing
he’s promised me. I turn a questioning glance his way, but he just smiles back
at me in that enigmatic way he’s mastered so well. I sense this evening is not
going to be as straightforward as I had thought.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Initiation 7</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-7/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-initiation-7/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="initiation6.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Initiation 6&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AMY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘Maybe we should go on one of those property shows on TV,’ I groan in
frustration, flinging the pile of estate agents’ brochures down on the
floor.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘What, and tell them we’re looking for something with period character
and a few sturdy beams to suspend you from?’ answers Rob, all innocence
as he scans through another brochure. I feel the familiar twinge deep inside
me, discovering a few moments later that I’ve unconsciously crossed my
hands in my lap. Heavens, I’m addicted…&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>True Calling</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/true-calling/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/true-calling/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Day 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;His voice whispered low in my ear.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘God I like fucking you when you’re helpless.’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I couldn’t reply. I had nothing to say. True, my right wrist was tied
securely to the rungs of the headboard with one of the stockings I’d discarded
earlier. But the knots that held my left wrist above my head were rapidly
slipping, despite my efforts to remain still and not put any strain on
the inadequate restraint. He’d blindfolded me at the start, but loosely,
and now the silk had slipped from my eyes and he was kissing me with a
gentle passion which made me love him, but frustrated me half out of my
mind.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Turnaround</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/turnaround/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/turnaround/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Entry from the S(A)X Leather Bondage Story competition 2005&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Beth had left the man bound and
hooded, feeding him air through a narrow tube, for half an hour now. Glancing
at the clock, she saw his session had overrun by five minutes, and expertly
began to release him.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The strange thing about this client
was he never wanted to climax during their sessions. As a result, Beth always
felt a little disconcerted by the end. She tried to hide it, of course – it
wouldn’t do for one of the most popular dominatrices in the club she worked
for to be seen to be uncertain. But there it was again: as he stood up, rubbed
his wrists and reached for his clothes, there was a moment of connection
between them when he caught her eye and seemed to reach her soul.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>With a Little Help from my Friends</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/with-a-little-help-from-my-friends/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/with-a-little-help-from-my-friends/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Pete glanced at me from his position in the driving seat and said, ‘I
think you ought to tell him.’ He looked back at the road.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘You what?’ I asked, half distracted by trying to search my bag for
a tissue.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Pete indicated right and turned onto the main road. ‘Tell your boyfriend
what you want him to do to you in bed.’&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘Pete!’ I exclaimed, a hot blush rising to my cheeks. Pete might be
gay and therefore safe to talk to about stuff like that, but still it was
a little surprising to be accosted without warning, and when sober. ‘What
are you talking about?’&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>