<?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>Professor Challenger on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/professor-challenger/</link><description>Recent content in Professor Challenger on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/professor-challenger/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Scenario</title><link>/stories/2017/03/01/the-scenario/</link><pubDate>Wed, 01 Mar 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/03/01/the-scenario/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Scenario, an event by Professor Challenger.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;[This was a play scenario I had been working up for some time. First, I wanted to receive a hundred strokes on the buttocks, something we hadn’t done before.  Second, my Mistress had acquired a sexy new Steampunk outfit I wanted to incorporate&amp;ndash;.]&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Prisoner has been pulled off the street by the Secret Police. He has no idea why or what he is suspected of. Perhaps it has something to do with his sketchbook? He hasn’t sketched anything that looked secret.
He was stripped and sprayed down with some chemical that took most of the hair off his body. He heard someone murmur ominously about “electrodes.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Real Inescapable Self-Bondage Rope Tie</title><link>/stories/2015/05/19/the-real-inescapable-self-bondage-rope-tie/</link><pubDate>Tue, 19 May 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/05/19/the-real-inescapable-self-bondage-rope-tie/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A new piece from Professor Challenger. Hope you like it.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Real Inescapable Self-Bondage Rope Tie (A True Story)
By Professor Challenger&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;DANGER! DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS WITHOUT A RELIABLE SAFETY PERSON PRESENT OR SCHEDULED TO RESCUE YOU!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Those who have followed the Forums on this site and others may be aware of my quest to discover the inescapable self-bondage using rope, only. We all (I hope) know that it is easily possible to lock yourself up beyond hope of escape using ordinary handcuffs or other locking restraints if you can’t get or use the keys. Rope is another matter, since it can almost always be cut relatively easily with a sharp instrument. (Of course, not wanting to cut your silk cords, or high-end shibari rope may be a deterrent&amp;ndash;.) Other authors have asserted that it is possible to tie yourself up with rope in such a way that it is impossible to free yourself, by yourself.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Kinkmas Morning</title><link>/stories/2014/12/21/kinkmas-morning/</link><pubDate>Sun, 21 Dec 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/12/21/kinkmas-morning/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Here&amp;rsquo;s a sequel to my story, &amp;ldquo;&lt;a href="../storiessz/visitfromstkinkolas.html"&gt;A Visit from St. Kinkolas&lt;/a&gt;,&amp;rdquo; which I wrote in response to some of the comments that it was &amp;ldquo;left hanging.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kinkmas Morning (A Visit From St. Kinkolas, Part 2)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As Santa Claus had predicted, and as Brenda had expected, it was a long, hard wait until morning. The Christmas magic worked to spare her any physical discomfort—she even dozed off for a very brief time—but she was in an agony of worry and fear as to what would become of her and of Greg. No one else had keys to her apartment, other than Greg, and he, like her, was tied up and trapped there. She had no idea who else, if anyone, might have keys to Greg’s apartment, where she was. What if some friend or family member burst in to wish a “Merry Christmas”, and found her like this? She would just die&amp;ndash;. She struggled fruitlessly against the magic bondage, but the velvet ribbons held her bound relentlessly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Visit from St. Kinkolas</title><link>/stories/2013/12/21/a-visit-from-st.-kinkolas/</link><pubDate>Sat, 21 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/21/a-visit-from-st.-kinkolas/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Brenda started awake. She heard a shuffling sound, felt rather than saw a body looming over her bed. Someone was in her room! She drew breath to scream. Something&amp;ndash;a gloved finger?&amp;ndash;touched her upper lip.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Hush, my dear,&amp;rdquo; a jovial voice said, &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s all right.&amp;rdquo; A sourceless light bloomed, and Brenda goggled at the impossible figure bending over her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;S-Santa Claus?&amp;rdquo; she whispered.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I bring tidings of joy!” he continued. “This year has been so miserable for so many that the Powers of Christmas have decreed that as many people as possible shall have the secret wishes of their hearts granted.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Misadventure of the Empty House</title><link>/stories/2012/08/07/the-misadventure-of-the-empty-house/</link><pubDate>Tue, 07 Aug 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/08/07/the-misadventure-of-the-empty-house/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It happened that I was assisting a friend in rehabbing a local rental property she had bought recently. I&amp;rsquo;m no great shakes as a workman, but I could periodically check in and send her updates on the status of the work.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The house was a duplex, with flats on the first and second floors. It also had a delightfully dark and dingy old-fashioned basement, which was last on the schedule of things to be upgraded. The space had been divided into a number of small (cell-like!) rooms with concrete block walls. One, a windowless room in the center of the north wall, had been fitted with a cage like door, a welded steel framework with a grille of heavy mesh. There was a latch only on the outside, although an opening in the mesh allowed it to be opened from the inside as well. There was also a hasp for a padlock that could be accessed the same way. I had plans for this room.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>At the End of My Tether</title><link>/stories/2011/11/08/at-the-end-of-my-tether/</link><pubDate>Tue, 08 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/11/08/at-the-end-of-my-tether/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I didn’t intend this to be a cautionary tale, but it worked out that way. It just goes to show how experienced self-bondagers can still get “stuck”—in my case, through a series of incidents involving recklessness, false assumptions, and impatience.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My employer allows me to work from home on occasion. Now, if you have that kind of arrangement, I’m sure you have probably worked in whatever seemed comfortable to you—pajamas and slippers, old sweats, or—perhaps—nothing at all.  I got the idea for my home work environment from an old union bargaining poster, that portrayed workers chained to their desks.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Purgation Experiment, or Making a Vice of Necessity</title><link>/stories/2005/09/20/the-purgation-experiment-or-making-a-vice-of-necessity/</link><pubDate>Tue, 20 Sep 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/09/20/the-purgation-experiment-or-making-a-vice-of-necessity/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Purgation Experiment, or Making a Vice of
Necessity By Professor Challenger&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well, I’ve come to that time of life whereat my
doctor advises it’s time to have a “routine” colonoscopy. It’s not that
the procedure itself is so bad—hereabouts they basically do it under anesthesia,
so all one has to deal with there is the lingering grogginess afterward.
No, the worst part is definitely the “preparation”—meaning, in this case,
that the night before the procedure, you are required to take a purgative
that cleans out your bowels entirely. I had the prescription for the laxative
solution: 4 liters worth (egad!) that had to be taken eight ounces at a
time every 10-15 minutes starting at 5PM until either what was evacuated
was clear, or until you had taken all of it.  This works out to sixteen
eight-ounce doses in approximately four hours. One knew that the laxative
wasn’t going to be tasty: the instructions suggested that it was “more
palatable” well chilled. So it was going to be an ordeal. It was then that
my perverted and masochistic mind began thinking, “Well—if it’s going to
be an ordeal, why not make it as much of a fun ordeal as possible—making
a vice of necessity, so to speak?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Cage Experiments</title><link>/stories/2005/09/14/the-cage-experiments/</link><pubDate>Wed, 14 Sep 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/09/14/the-cage-experiments/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Last night was the most recent of a series of
test runs in my newest toy—a new plus ultra of bondage equipment&amp;ndash;. After
years of desire, I bought a steel standing cage. I’m sure you’ve seen pictures
of them. They are often referred to as “portable jail cells,” although
“portable” is a relative term—it is a heavy item! This one is six feet
tall and about 18” inches wide and deep, with the front door divided into
three panels for different levels of access. I bought mine from eXrestraints*—very
good people to deal with: if you want it, they have it. Their prices are
not the cheapest, but I save a couple of hundred dollars by haunting their
auctions on eBay&amp;ndash;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Cage Experiments, Part 1</title><link>/stories/2005/09/14/the-cage-experiments-part-1/</link><pubDate>Wed, 14 Sep 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/09/14/the-cage-experiments-part-1/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Cage Experiments, Part 1 by Professor Challenger&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Last night was the most recent of a series of
test runs in my newest toy—a ne plus ultra of bondage equipment&amp;ndash;. After
years of desire, I bought a steel standing cage. I’m sure you’ve seen pictures
of them. They are often referred to as “portable jail cells,” although
“portable” is a relative term—it is a heavy item! This one is six feet
tall and about 18” inches wide and deep, with the front door divided into
three panels for different levels of access. I bought mine from eXrestraints*—very
good people to deal with: if you want it, they have it. Their prices are
not the cheapest, but I save a couple of hundred dollars by haunting their
auctions on eBay&amp;ndash;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Purgation Experiment, or Making a Vice of Necessity</title><link>/stories/2005/07/15/the-purgation-experiment-or-making-a-vice-of-necessity/</link><pubDate>Fri, 15 Jul 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/07/15/the-purgation-experiment-or-making-a-vice-of-necessity/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The Purgation Experiment, or Making a Vice of
Necessity By Professor Challenger&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well, I’ve come to that time of life whereat my
doctor advises it’s time to have a “routine” colonoscopy. It’s not that
the procedure itself is so bad—hereabouts they basically do it under anesthesia,
so all one has to deal with there is the lingering grogginess afterward.
No, the worst part is definitely the “preparation”—meaning, in this case,
that the night before the procedure, you are required to take a purgative
that cleans out your bowels entirely. I had the prescription for the laxative
solution: 4 liters worth (egad!) that had to be taken eight ounces at a
time every 10-15 minutes starting at 5PM until either what was evacuated
was clear, or until you had taken all of it.  This works out to sixteen
eight-ounce doses in approximately four hours. One knew that the laxative
wasn’t going to be tasty: the instructions suggested that it was “more
palatable” well chilled. So it was going to be an ordeal. It was then that
my perverted and masochistic mind began thinking, “Well—if it’s going to
be an ordeal, why not make it as much of a fun ordeal as possible—making
a vice of necessity, so to speak?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Machine</title><link>/stories/2002/11/24/the-machine/</link><pubDate>Sun, 24 Nov 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/11/24/the-machine/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Diana checked the clock as she moved the Sybian device into position.
Plenty of time. Her part-time job left her frequent free afternoons, and
she intended to get the most out of this one. She had already undressed,
and was finishing her set-up clad only in the leather straps of an upper
body harness. She had already put the bondage platform in the middle of their
large living room floor, and she set the Sybian carefully on top of it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Night Drive Experiment</title><link>/stories/2002/09/05/the-night-drive-experiment/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Sep 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/09/05/the-night-drive-experiment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;8 
8
The Night Drive Experiment
by Professor Challenger
The
Night Drive Experiment, by Professor Challenger
&lt;a href="mailto:profchallenger2000@yahoo.com"&gt;profchallenger2000@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Have you heard of people
driving naked? I bet you have. There is even a nudist driver&amp;rsquo;s club of
sorts. However, how about driving naked and in bondage?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In actuality, it is very
hard to be seen while you are driving at night. The interior of your car
is usually as dark as, if not darker than, the outside. Streetlights reflect
off the outside glass. Oncoming headlights dazzle the night vision. If
you think about it, about the only time you can see another driver is if
you
are stopped next to them at a stoplight and happen to glance to the side.
Knowing this, I decided to attempt a nude drive with some bondage on for
spice.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>