<?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>Car on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/car/</link><description>Recent content in Car on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:47 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/car/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Chloe</title><link>/stories/2020/11/21/chloe/</link><pubDate>Sat, 21 Nov 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/11/21/chloe/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="19-concussion-coma-a-new-slave-and-twins"&gt;19. Concussion, Coma, a New Slave and Twins?&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A few days later Ben had taken them all shopping for a new car for James. He couldn’t keep driving that old wreck, it was about to die any day. They got to the lot and Ben went to look at the new trucks, thinking he might buy a new one. He could still use the old one he had customized for off-roading. As he was looking, Chloe had wandered ahead of him and suddenly gave a squeal of delight, standing by a brand new black truck with red trim.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cuckold, Revisited</title><link>/stories/2020/08/29/cuckold-revisited/</link><pubDate>Sat, 29 Aug 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/08/29/cuckold-revisited/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-two"&gt;Part Two&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;With little choice I left Ken&amp;rsquo;s side to check on my future husband, knowing this was something I had to do myself. Ken was nearly asleep anyway with all the energy he had expended, and truth be told I would rather have been sleeping myself - or for that matter doing almost anything else - rather than inviting this looming conflict that surely must be coming. I also had a mess to contend with, not to mention the lingering taste of Ken in my mouth, but my bound boyfriend had to come first.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Student and the Soldier</title><link>/stories/2019/06/01/the-student-and-the-soldier/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/01/the-student-and-the-soldier/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="studentandthesoldier18.html"&gt;part eighteen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h4 id="chapter-19"&gt;Chapter 19&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A very sheepish Suzi entered and waited for her punishment. Taking lots of rope I tied her hands up behind her back right up by her shoulder blades and made her a harness locking her arms to her body. I was impressed as I asked her to shake and only her super breasts had any spare movement.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I put more tape on her crotch for protection, as the top of the partition she was about to straddle was quite rough. Splinters in her pussy would not help, I thought. As I helped her across the top plank she looked at me as if to offer me encouragement. I wondered if she&amp;rsquo;d decided to help me become the perfect master. Settling her on the plank I looked into her eyes as I tied a rope from the upright in front of her to the ring on her collar. Another rope went to the ring in the wall behind her. This held her upright. Next, roping each ankle, I pulled it out to a ring she seemed to have set just for this task. I pulled until her legs were outstretched and bow tight.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Student and the Soldier</title><link>/stories/2019/06/01/the-student-and-the-soldier/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/01/the-student-and-the-soldier/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="studentandthesoldier19.html"&gt;part nineteen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h4 id="chapter-20"&gt;Chapter 20&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sitting and listening to the drone of the propellers of this C130 Herki bird winging its way back to blightey I realised just how much I was looking forward to seeing Suzi again. The last three months have been more painful than I would have thought. Missing someone as much as I have missed her is, to say the least, very unusual for me. But I hadn&amp;rsquo;t had anyone to do the things we did before I left. I still remember her hair and the way it flashed in the half-light of our barn. The look in her eyes as I tied the ropes tighter so they dug into her skin. Her grunts and groans as she crashed through another orgasm brought on by the mixture of pain and pleasure.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Student and the Soldier</title><link>/stories/2019/06/01/the-student-and-the-soldier/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/01/the-student-and-the-soldier/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="studentandthesoldier20.html"&gt;part twenty&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h4 id="chapter-21"&gt;Chapter 21&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘Oh dear,&amp;rsquo; I thought as I slipped a finger deep inside her anus. She had such an embarrassed look on her flushed sweaty face. &amp;ldquo;Double or quits?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;~ ~ ~ ~ ~&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Paul was offering me a chance to redeem myself, so how could I refuse? I mean, I wanted to be his obedient slave, and today&amp;rsquo;s failure had hurt my cause. So I agreed to a double or nothing dare. With my determination, I was sure that this time I could win. Besides, now the edge was off. That orgasm had slowed the fires a tiny bit. And if I failed, how bad could twenty be?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Gamble</title><link>/stories/2019/02/23/the-gamble/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Feb 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/02/23/the-gamble/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;If You haven’t read the first part of &lt;a href="gamble.html"&gt;The Gamble&lt;/a&gt; I would recommend it. The following might make more sense that way.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;h4 id="part-two"&gt;Part Two&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I had to try to insert it three times into the padlock due to my trembling hands but it slid in easily enough and when I twisted the key I received a click and the padlock opened releasing the chain from my collar. The relief was enough for me to fall to my knees and to start crying again, but this time out of happiness.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drive!!</title><link>/stories/2018/10/25/drive/</link><pubDate>Thu, 25 Oct 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/10/25/drive/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a long hot Indian summer night. So, Betty, decided to go for a long drive, to cool down But with all heat waves comes, torrential rains and down pours. It got so bad Betty, couldn’t see ten feet out her windshield. For fear of running off the road she decided to look for a way stop but could not find one.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Finally she pulled her car into the next driveway she could find. The rain was so intense, that it stalled her car out. Now all alone, rain pouring down, car stalled, lighting all around she was starting to worry about her safety. Then suddenly as it started the rain ease a bit.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Kinky Car Crusher</title><link>/stories/2018/10/23/kinky-car-crusher/</link><pubDate>Tue, 23 Oct 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/10/23/kinky-car-crusher/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;This story is strictly fantasy! Do not try anything in it for real. The text of this story is released under the terms of the&lt;/em&gt; &lt;a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;license, meaning that you may share and modify this story so long as you credit the author, “Disposee”.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Cassie knocked on the side window of the car. “Are you two ready?” she asked.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;All she heard in return were the moans of the two women in the back seat. That was answer enough. They had asked her to do this after all.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>House of Dolls</title><link>/stories/2018/07/14/house-of-dolls/</link><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jul 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/07/14/house-of-dolls/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The sign ‘Welcome to England’ had greeted Bronwyn Harper as
she had driven her hire car out of Heathrow Airport that morning, and
even now she could only smile at remembering that sign. She hadn’t
seen much of a welcome so far on this typical spring Sunday in England
if she was being honest. In other words, it had rained incessantly all
day, and even now, by five in the afternoon the light was beginning to
disappear from the grey, leaden skies. And thanks to a delayed flight,
and a lengthy passage through immigration she was still 80 miles or so
from her destination, somewhere in Wiltshire if the signs were to be
believed.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Segufix Surprise</title><link>/stories/2018/06/24/segufix-surprise/</link><pubDate>Sun, 24 Jun 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/06/24/segufix-surprise/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was 11:30 on Friday afternoon and I had just finished my lunch at my desk when my phone chimed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a text from Josh. I hadn’t heard from Josh in ages!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Look out your window”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Excitedly I stood up and looked out the window of my second-floor office.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Street side was Josh, legs crossed, arms folded, head cocked in that smug way only Josh could do, leaning against an electric blue Mercedes AMG GT R!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Retirement Plan</title><link>/stories/2017/02/18/retirement-plan/</link><pubDate>Sat, 18 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/18/retirement-plan/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;They had been very careful. Maria and Toni had selected just one girl a month. One girl from the hundred or so who showed up at their modeling studio every month. One girl who had no one to come looking for them. One girl who no one would miss.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Today they had bundled up girl number twenty-four. At fifty thousand Dollars per girl they had done quite well for themselves to the tune of $1.2 million. Katrina was naked. She had a leather bondage hood over her head with the blindfold and gag firmly in place. She wore leather cuffs also locked tight to her wrists and ankles. The cuffs were locked together with a ten inch chain securing her wrists to her ankles holding her in a hogtie despite the girls frantic attempts to slip free.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ruby's Demise: Happy Birthday</title><link>/stories/2016/06/10/rubys-demise-happy-birthday/</link><pubDate>Fri, 10 Jun 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/06/10/rubys-demise-happy-birthday/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The headlights shined on the darkened walls of the complex as a black BMW sedan drove up. It quickly drove around to the back loading bay. A woman stepped out of the car. She was in her late thirties. Her face a combination of strength and beauty. She was wearing a long black coat and leather gloves, the same shade as her curly hair. She quickly looked around. This industrial part of town usually emptied out after 5 o&amp;rsquo;clock but just to be safe she chose the dead of night to arrive. Seeing that she was alone she walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. She stared down at her cargo. A fit, red-headed girl in her early twenties, nude, blindfolded, her legs in irons and her hands cuffed behind her back. Her head darted around as she strained to hear her surroundings. This was Ruby&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Gift</title><link>/stories/2014/10/30/the-gift/</link><pubDate>Thu, 30 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/10/30/the-gift/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A woman receives a gift that can either be a blessing or a curse.
This story is somewhere between a non-romance short story and a non-erotic semi-occult fantasy. It is very, very tame on the erotic side. There are some rough reference to a serial rapist, but no activity is described.
If you are looking for something stronger, try some of my other stories.
But if you are looking for a short, quirky little story that will possibly make you think, smile, or possibly even laugh when it is over, read on.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Paper Route</title><link>/stories/2013/09/26/the-paper-route/</link><pubDate>Thu, 26 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/09/26/the-paper-route/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jesus, Alex, turn off the fucking blinker!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;2:00 a.m. Alex flicked the button, rolled out of bed, stretched, yawned, scratched himself, padded into the bathroom, climbed into the shower. When he came out Wendy was in the kitchen, wearing her fluffy robe and bunny slippers. She had a serious case of bed hair and she was clearly barely awake. She was screwing the lid on the Thermos bottle. He reached a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. He reached a second mug and filled it, splashed in some milk and added a couple of packets of the blue stuff.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Snow Bound</title><link>/stories/2012/12/24/snow-bound/</link><pubDate>Mon, 24 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/24/snow-bound/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The blue marquis scrolled across the bottom of the TV screen. &lt;strong&gt;Severe winter weather warning in effect until 6.a.m. for the following counties &amp;hellip;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Annette grabbed the remote, thumbed over to the weather station. She had been following the storm track all day and was delighted when the first flakes fell a couple of hours ago. There was over an inch of the fluffy white stuff on the ground. Just enough to cover everything, creating a perfect, picture postcard setting. But there&amp;rsquo;s perfect and then there&amp;rsquo;s perfect.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Rusty Fiat</title><link>/stories/2012/08/24/the-rusty-fiat/</link><pubDate>Fri, 24 Aug 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/08/24/the-rusty-fiat/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Georgia slid sideways from the chair at the kitchen table and hit the floor with a thump. Just a few minutes ago she’d been sipping her tea with her friend Susan, but she had suddenly felt quite woozy and simply passed out. So now she was unconscious, slumped on the kitchen floor. Susan glanced down at her. She didn’t seem very surprised. But why would she be, she’d had drugged her tea. Susan smiled to herself as she looked down at her prone friend for just a moment longer, her gaze lingering on her ample backside for a moment.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Road Trip from Hell</title><link>/stories/2012/01/10/road-trip-from-hell/</link><pubDate>Tue, 10 Jan 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/01/10/road-trip-from-hell/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Where have you been?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Stacey Burke hardly paused as she swept through the living room. “Oh,” she said offhandedly, “you know, out.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jason Walker frowned. “Out on another of your road trips, I’d say, judging from the way you’re dressed.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Stacey glanced down at her skin tight, electric blue shorts and skimpy blue halter. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed? It covers the essentials.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Barely. And only if you don’t move.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Appropriate Action</title><link>/stories/2010/08/03/appropriate-action/</link><pubDate>Tue, 03 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/03/appropriate-action/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A Thursday Afternoon in July&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The morning had been clear but winds were growing stronger as the afternoon progressed, with the humidity rising, the stuffy hot summer weather of the last two days giving way. Now clouds were beginning to build in the west, prelude to the storms that were predicted to come later this afternoon, some forecasters said could become severe.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The car turned onto a street lined with old growth trees. The large yards, many ornately fenced in, were well manicured and pruned before the large, older Victorian and colonial style homes that were well maintained. The street was empty, no children running and only the odd expensive car or two driving past, which wasn’t surprising for the early afternoon hour. Grace shifting in her seat slightly, silently watched the trees and properties pass by, knowing they were getting close to their destination. There was little else she could do.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Pleasant Little Ride in the Country</title><link>/stories/2010/07/25/a-pleasant-little-ride-in-the-country/</link><pubDate>Sun, 25 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/07/25/a-pleasant-little-ride-in-the-country/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“You know John, you’ve been promising me for weeks that we would do this.” Sara said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I never promised, just said we might do it.” Her husband replied.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Don’t play word games with me.  We talked about this when we bought the car, how we both wanted to do this, how much fun it would be.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Yeah, I remember.  But it sure didn’t start out like this.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“So?  We made it better, more daring, more erotic.  And you couldn’t ask for a more perfect night than tonight.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Rubber Car Bondage</title><link>/stories/2002/07/03/rubber-car-bondage/</link><pubDate>Wed, 03 Jul 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/07/03/rubber-car-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The drive to New York was
one more necessary evil, one last major inconvenience Samantha had to overcome
before she could begin her long weekend with her lover, Erika. The previous
two months had been filled with all kinds of last minute schedule changes,
too much overtime and the general conspiring of fate to keep the two apart.
By the second week of March, Samantha was wracked with sexual frustration.
This would be their first time together since New Year&amp;rsquo;s. She wanted their
week together to be special, and after having to cancel it three times,
nothing was going to keep her from a lust filled five days with her soul
mate.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Batgirl - The Return 2: Funerals and Wills</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/batgirl-the-return-2-funerals-and-wills/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/batgirl-the-return-2-funerals-and-wills/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="batgirl_return.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Batgirl - The Return 1: Back at it&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Funerals and Wills&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;All of Gotham’s richest and finest, and those hoping to be, were in attendance, and all doing their best to look spectacular in mourning wear, which a few of them did spectacularly. Though most of those who ringed the freshly dug grave site despised Bartholomew ‘Bad-Worth Bart’ Wentworth, they still came out in droves for the cameras and press that covered the funeral. Hundreds were there, outwardly looking sad, but many gleeful that the despicable business leader was finally as cold and lifeless as most thought his heart really was and about to be planted, his remaining mark in life a large, cold granite marker.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drive!!</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/drive/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/drive/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a long hot Indian summer night. So, Betty, decided to go for a long drive, to cool down But with all heat waves comes, torrential rains and down pours. It got so bad Betty, couldn’t see ten feet out her windshield. For fear of running off the road she decided to look for a way stop but could not find one.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Finally she pulled her car into the next driveway she could find. The rain was so intense, that it stalled her car out. Now all alone, rain pouring down, car stalled, lighting all around she was starting to worry about her safety. Then suddenly as it started the rain ease a bit.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Summer Of Dares 5: Property Of Dana And Tracy 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/my-summer-of-dares-5-property-of-dana-and-tracy-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/my-summer-of-dares-5-property-of-dana-and-tracy-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="mysummerofdares4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Summer Of Dares 4: Property Of Dana And Tracy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 5: Property Of Dana And Tracy - Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I opened the locker and stripped off everything I was wearing, with the exception of my sneakers, and stuffed it all into the locker like the rags my friends thought my clothes to be. I could hardly close the thing with all I had put into it, but pets didn&amp;rsquo;t need clothes, and maids generally wore uniforms provided by their employers. I felt confident my friends would provide for me just as they did last time, but an entire week of servitude was different than a few hours worth. My commitment felt deeper this time as I closed a lock fully that I had no combination to, and even if I did, the things secured by that lock would be far away if we went to the cabin as I now suspected we may.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Summer Of Dares 6: The Summer House Pooch</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/my-summer-of-dares-6-the-summer-house-pooch/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/my-summer-of-dares-6-the-summer-house-pooch/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="mysummerofdares5.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Summer Of Dares 5: Property Of Dana And Tracy 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 6: The Summer House Pooch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We eventually arrived at the gate that once opened would allow us to drive the rest of the way on the dirt road right up to the summer house, I mute on the whole &amp;ldquo;Are we there yet?&amp;rdquo; subject however because of the gag. I had cooled myself down as the girls had predicted I would, seeing the humor of my unique situation brought about by my own actions, and quite honestly with little other choice in the matter.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>