<?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>Stephanie on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/stephanie/</link><description>Recent content in Stephanie on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 26 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/stephanie/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Closing Pandora's Box</title><link>/stories/2010/03/26/closing-pandoras-box/</link><pubDate>Fri, 26 Mar 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/03/26/closing-pandoras-box/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story is copyright by Stephanie. All rights reserved. You may repost or store this story on your website as long as the work is not altered or charged for.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Alan Carter could tell that Carl Yates had entered the room by
the way his chest expanded into two large, female breasts. He sighed and pulled the labcoat closed over his now ruined
shirt. His nipples, now large and extra-sensitive, reacted to the fabric
rubbing on them and stiffened. He looked down as he tried to control his anger. He had learnt
that showing anger to Yates could be extremely dangerous.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>