Case on Gromet's Plaza Archive

I Guess I Can Do That

Mon, 26 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Woman to Mannequin TF

Jenna’s long brown hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that fell down just past her shoulders as she walked the floor of San Diego Comic Con. This was her third year in attendance and as it was the second day of the convention she had already purchased all of her memorabilia and taken it back to her friend’s house before coming in for a day of panels and talking to other con goers. … well that and enjoying the people watching her walk by them and complimenting her on her cosplay. Last year she and a group of friends had spent the weekend dressed up as the Fantastic Four, but this year she was rolling solo as a classic. Lara Croft. Her heavy black boots clicked against the tiled ground as she walked towards the main show floor. She could practically feel the gaze of many male con-goers watching her green, booty short covered behind sway past them. Her navel was exposed due to the short top that hugged her curvy torso, leaving little to the imagination to what the green and gray fabric was covering. Two seperate holsters were buckled around each of her thighs that held replica pistols inside and several other little things were attached to her via other buckles and straps. The con was still setting up for its second day as the brunette entered the floor, watching as several booths were removing set pieces from the day prior and replacing them with newer items that would draw people back to view their products a second time. She admired the new look of one of the several Marvel booths - a large glass case holding costumes had replaced the previous day’s signing table. The thrift shop comic’s booth called to her and she spent the next several minutes chatting with one of the workers - a man probably just a little younger than her - about various items while things moved around them. When she finally left the booth - after promising to come back towards the end of the day to purchase something on her way out - she was pulled to the side by another man, this one clearly being older than her. Jenna nearly rounded on him for grabbing her, until she realized he had pulled her into the heart of the Square Enix booth. She had spent a good portion of her stay yesterday browsing the various item, displays, and other things this booth had to offer yesterday when she was not dressed up, but now it felt a little surreal. “Yes! Claire! I found someone who would be perfect for the job. Please come over quickly!” the man called back behind the counter before turning back to face her. “Oh, pardon me. My name is Hank. I am part of the events team at Square. I apologize for pulling you in here so suddenly, but my associate Claire will fill you in on why I did so. Talk to you later!” The now introduced Hank spoke at about a mile per minute and before she could even say “It’s fine” he dashed off behind the staff curtains and was replaced by a similarly aged woman with short blonde hair. “Wow, he was right. You fit the bill perfectly. What is your name dear? Mine of course is Claire.” Jenna took the extended hand with a tight smile. “My name is Jenna. Do you mind explaining to me why you brought me here? Oh! Not that I don’t want to be here… but…”

Who Is The Captive?

Wed, 02 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Pulling the medium-sized piece of luggage behind me, I navigated through the apartment complex. It was made of shiny aluminum on the outside. There was an extendable handle for easy movement and soft, quiet rubber wheels on the bottom so it could be pulled without much effort or noise.

I stopped in front of unit 173A. Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out the door key. It had been mailed to me by Emma earlier in the week. I had been here before; but today we had planned something special. Our should I say she. While I did all the grunt work, actually today was mostly her plan. I was just the lucky guy who gets to be part of it.

The Voice

Tue, 28 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000

It had taken months of work, of false starts, of hiccups, of careful patient modification, but now she thought she was ready to try it. The weekend was cleared, there would be no distractions, the props were all in place. She stripped, and showered, dried herself then sat in the chair. It was just an ordinary chair, made special in that she only used it when practicing the process, by now, just sitting in it helped her relax, and helped her into the right state of mind. She closed her eyes and started the relaxing exercises. Her breath became deep and regular, her body more and more relaxed. Without opening her eyes, she reached out and found the headphones and the player. It was all second nature now. The headphones went over her ears, she switched the player on. Soft music flowed into her ears, reinforcing the feeling of relaxation. And then the voice started to speak, it was a soft quiet voice, digitally altered to sound robotic, or at least what she imagined a robotic voice to sound like. They’d tried an ordinary voice, but this was more effective, made the illusion more real. The voice told her to listen, to absorb. It told her that she was to be re-programmed, re-purposed, and if she wasn’t ready for the process to start, to turn off the player. She did nothing. The voice carried on, it told her that her new purpose was to become a doll, that the voice was there to help her achieve that. Again it told her that if she wasn’t ready, she was to turn off the player. Again she did nothing. The voice told her to drift into a relaxed compliant state, to become more and more receptive, it told her that her mind was changing, that she was losing her will, her ability to think, that the most important thing to do was listen to the voice, to obey what it told her. It cycled around and around reinforcing that she was to listen, that her will was draining out of her, that she was becoming a doll. She lost all track of time. The voice told her to open her eyes, she blinked, the room was unfocused, it told her to look over at the table, to focus on what was there. She could see the rubber garments laid out, but she couldn’t think about them, the voice hadn’t told her to think, just to look. It told her that as she was a doll in her mind, she now needed to be transformed into a doll outwardly as well.

The Puppetmaster

Mon, 21 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

It was the music that woke Erica up.

The tune was halting and disjointed, like a music box winding down, but it was there, a pretty jingling melody that roused her from her slumber and let her know that everything was not all right. When she opened her eyes she stared up into darkness, and she felt hard ground under her, and her bare arms and legs were freezing cold.

Her Ordeal

Fri, 03 Aug 2007 00:00:00 +0000

On Saturday I decided to proceed with some work that I had planned to do on one of our cars. It was a beautiful day, so I pulled the car into the driveway and up to the garage, with the front clip facing the garage door. Still sitting in a dark corner in the back of the garage was the case containing my very tightly bound, gagged, plugged, and packaged wife. She was, of course, exactly how and where I had left her Friday morning. I walked over and thumped on the upright case with my foot. I could easily hear her warbling moans through the case. I knew that she was both miserable and ecstatic in her tiny prison. Inside, she had grown stiff and sore from the cramped confinement. Her jaw was aching from being stretched around the fat penis gag for so long. Her nipples were burning from the clamps biting into them. Her ass was throbbing from the thick dildo shoved deep inside her. With a plastic cable tie tightly binding her soft, tender lips cruelly around the dildo that filled her pussy, her wet pussy was on fire.

Tammy’s Valentine Bind

Wed, 25 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Tammy Lynette Dufrane sat frozen at her desk. She blankly stared at the 9-inch view screen on the portable DVD player in front of her. It had mysteriously appeared on her desk while she and her secretary had been called to the conference room for the daily morning powwow. No explanation of who it was from, just a card with the words ‘FOR YOUR EYES ONLY’ slid under the white bow and ribbon that decorated the heart shaped bright red box it came in. Two layers of her favorite caramel filled chocolates surrounded the player and filled the rest of the 2-inch deep box.

Insert Tab A into Slot B

Sat, 19 Nov 2005 00:00:00 +0000

While shopping at a flea market some time back we stumbled across an old case originally designed to hold fire fighting equipment. The case was constructed of 1/2” wood with all of the edges trimmed in metal for strength. The case, which measured 28”x16”x20”, resembled a very ugly green steamer trunk,and was fitted with latches and a convenient reinforced carrying handle. Knowing that my wife would fit in it, we purchased it right away.

Last Train to Grimsby

Sun, 12 Jun 2005 00:00:00 +0000

Packaged Story Contest 2005 Entrant

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.

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.