<?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>Change on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/change/</link><description>Recent content in Change 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/change/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Needing More</title><link>/stories/2019/06/03/needing-more/</link><pubDate>Mon, 03 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/03/needing-more/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;As always – enjoy the story, and do not try this sort of trash play at home.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Stella’s biggest fantasy was to be treated like trash. Now, most girls, when they say that, they probably mean they want to be humiliated or talked down to… but she meant it literally. Her favorite thing in the world, especially after a long, exhausting session in bed with her boyfriend Ethan, was to have him tie her up, gag her, and then wrap her in a trash bag and treat her like &lt;em&gt;literal&lt;/em&gt; trash. Like after he’d had his way with her, she was just some worthless &lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt; to be disposed of. She couldn’t explain why it turned her on so much, but she couldn’t deny that getting “trashed” was one of the most pleasurable sensations she could feel.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Quality Assurance</title><link>/stories/2019/01/09/quality-assurance/</link><pubDate>Wed, 09 Jan 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/01/09/quality-assurance/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Just&amp;hellip; ugh, explain it to me again, okay?&amp;rdquo; I rubbed my eyes in the dull morning glow and sat back down on the sofa. Opposite me, a girl with long jet-black hair, dark makeup and big brown eyes gave an exasperated gasp.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I don&amp;rsquo;t know how else to explain it to you, dude!&amp;rdquo; She crossed her arms over her chest, wearing a loose black t-shirt with a digitally distorted skull figure on it. 
&amp;ldquo;Okay alright just&amp;hellip; start at the beginning again. You found this &amp;lsquo;job posting&amp;rsquo; on some website?&amp;rdquo;
She nodded. &amp;ldquo;About two weeks ago. I&amp;rsquo;m in need of the cash now that my hours have been cut to almost nothing, and this seemed like a reasonably legitimate gig.&amp;rdquo; 
&amp;ldquo;So you&amp;rsquo;re&amp;hellip; being paid to test this&amp;hellip; thing.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Yes.&amp;rdquo; She waved her hands over herself. &amp;ldquo;This is some kind of weird&amp;hellip; suit, that I put on each morning, and then I have to wear it for at least a couple hours a day. Don&amp;rsquo;t ask me how it works!&amp;rdquo; - She held up a hand before I could even get the words out of my mouth - &amp;ldquo;I honestly don&amp;rsquo;t know. The woman running the test gave me a box with this suit in it and a trunk of clothing, and just gave me instructions to wear it each day and to send her pictures of me in it. She gave me half the money up front, and promised the rest plus expenses after four weeks.&amp;rdquo;
I just frowned and tried to make sense of it. &amp;ldquo;&amp;hellip; Okay&amp;hellip; but it&amp;hellip; turned you into a&amp;hellip; a chick?&amp;rdquo; 
She raised an eyebrow and gave a half-shrug. &amp;ldquo;I guess so. I mean. I&amp;rsquo;m back to normal as soon as I take it off, so it&amp;rsquo;s just temporary.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;But how is that even&amp;hellip; you&amp;hellip; how does it&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;I already told you I don&amp;rsquo;t know. It&amp;rsquo;s got this kind of gross slimy surface on the insides, and when I put it on it sticks onto me like a plaster. Once it&amp;rsquo;s on me, I can feel everything as if I wasn&amp;rsquo;t wearing anything special at all, just&amp;hellip; feels like real skin, y&amp;rsquo;know?&amp;rdquo; 
I kept frowning in disbelief as she sat up slightly, opening and closing her right hand on the desk chair opposite me. I had commanded her to sit down there after I&amp;rsquo;d woken up early and found this stranger rummaging through the kitchen - I thought she was some punk rocker that Dan knew, but when she tried to tell me that she &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; Dan, I was hesitant to believe her. What if she was some kind of crazy ex?
I stood up and pointed &amp;ldquo;W-well&amp;hellip; okay, if you&amp;rsquo;re really Dan, then, I dunno, tell me something only Dan would know.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Seriously dude?&amp;rdquo; She rolled her eyes. &amp;ldquo;Okay, like&amp;hellip; I know your real name isn&amp;rsquo;t Frank, it&amp;rsquo;s Francis but you don&amp;rsquo;t like the way that name sounds, and you broke your arm in middle school trying to ride a skateboard down a staircase, and that you dated Sarah even though you said you didn&amp;rsquo;t l-&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Okay alright! I believe you, okay?&amp;rdquo; I rubbed my eyes again. &amp;ldquo;Fuck&amp;hellip; alright&amp;hellip; you&amp;rsquo;re Dan.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Yes!&amp;rdquo; She relaxed, sighing. &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m sorry I didn&amp;rsquo;t keep you in the loop, alright?&amp;rdquo; 
&amp;ldquo;I mean, I don&amp;rsquo;t think I&amp;rsquo;d have believed you if you had, but&amp;hellip; it&amp;rsquo;s alright.&amp;rdquo; I sat back down opposite the weird girl-shaped roommate. &amp;ldquo;This is a really weird-ass kind of hobby, though.&amp;rdquo;
She pursed her lips defensively, which only made the fact that they had dark red lipstick on them more obvious. &amp;ldquo;Man it&amp;rsquo;s not, like, for &lt;em&gt;fun&lt;/em&gt; or anything! It&amp;rsquo;s for this woman I found on the internet, who actually turned out to be LEGIT, and has already paid me serious cash. She said she was some kind of inventor that specialised in really weird stuff.&amp;rdquo;
I snorted. &amp;ldquo;To be honest I&amp;rsquo;m more surprised you actually found a chick on the internet that actually turned out to be a chick!&amp;rdquo;
She gave a small smile. &amp;ldquo;Not the usual kind of &amp;lsquo;job&amp;rsquo; on the internet, I guess. It was pretty vague in description, but didn&amp;rsquo;t stink of all the usual fake or scam hallmarks, so I gave it a chance and it turned out to be&amp;hellip; this.&amp;rdquo;
I looked her up and down. &amp;ldquo;So, tell me again - you wear this&amp;hellip; you wear &amp;lsquo;her&amp;rsquo; for a couple hours a day and then&amp;hellip; that&amp;rsquo;s it?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Well, that&amp;rsquo;s what I was told to do at the start. That woman also texts me every now and then asking for some specific stuff, like wear some particular outfit and send her pictures, or sometimes visit her in such and such place to tell her how things are going.&amp;rdquo;
My turn to raise an eyebrow. &amp;ldquo;Okay, that&amp;rsquo;s&amp;hellip; unusual&amp;hellip; and how &lt;em&gt;are&lt;/em&gt; things going, then?&amp;rdquo; I was immensely curious by this point.
&amp;ldquo;Well as you can tell, the thing works pretty damn well, even down to changing how my voice sounds. You could never tell it was me, could you?&amp;rdquo;
I shook my head. &amp;ldquo;So that means it&amp;rsquo;s working as expected, right?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Well&amp;hellip; I mean&amp;hellip; I&amp;rsquo;ve been experiencing some&amp;hellip; &lt;em&gt;weird&lt;/em&gt; feelings sometimes if I&amp;rsquo;m honest.&amp;rdquo;
Seriously dude? &amp;ldquo;Oh, feelings like &amp;lsquo;what the hell are you doing wearing a suit that turns you into a chick for two weeks&amp;rsquo;?&amp;rdquo;
She gave me a sour look. &amp;ldquo;No, actually, smartass. That&amp;rsquo;s been surprisingly easy to adjust to.&amp;rdquo; She stood up and took a step over to look out the window, her hands in her hoodie pockets. &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve been having weird dreams sometimes, and I have this kind of headache after I-&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;&amp;hellip; After you what?&amp;rdquo;
Her eyes widened. After a millisecond of deduction, I figured it out. 
&amp;ldquo;After you finish jacking off as a woman.&amp;rdquo; I kept a straight face as she spun around, agitated.
&amp;ldquo;Dude!&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;What? It&amp;rsquo;s obvious! It&amp;rsquo;s &lt;em&gt;literally&lt;/em&gt; the first thing everyone would do if they had the chance!&amp;rdquo; 
&amp;ldquo;But&amp;hellip; I know, but it&amp;rsquo;s still&amp;hellip; I don&amp;rsquo;t really wanna be talking about that, y&amp;rsquo;know?&amp;rdquo;
I huffed. &amp;ldquo;Understandable. But still, you did it&amp;hellip; what&amp;rsquo;s it like? How&amp;rsquo;s it compare?&amp;rdquo;
She turned around again, hiding her face. 
&amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m not gonna&amp;hellip; well I&amp;rsquo;ll say it&amp;rsquo;s&amp;hellip; different. Just different.&amp;rdquo;
Hm. &amp;ldquo;Well okay then. You&amp;rsquo;ve been, uh, &amp;rsquo;testing&amp;rsquo; this girl out for a while now, and you&amp;rsquo;ve been dressing up and meeting this inventor lady, and now you say you&amp;rsquo;ve had weird dreams?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Not just dreams.&amp;rdquo; She crossed her arms again. &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s like&amp;hellip; sometimes I feel it&amp;hellip; &lt;em&gt;moving&lt;/em&gt;, like without me consciously doing anything, right?&amp;rdquo; She pulled on her elbow. &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s like those freaky involuntary twitches you get when you smack somethin&amp;rsquo; just below your kneecap, only it&amp;rsquo;s really slow and hard to notice until it&amp;rsquo;s happened.&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;&amp;hellip; okay, that&amp;rsquo;s&amp;hellip; even weirder. And you&amp;rsquo;ve reported this stuff to the lady?&amp;rdquo;
&amp;ldquo;Not yet - I can&amp;rsquo;t really say for certain what&amp;rsquo;s even happening, and even if I did I&amp;rsquo;d have to explain to her that I&amp;hellip; well, y&amp;rsquo;know.&amp;rdquo; She made a vague gesture and I nodded. 
&amp;ldquo;Right, she didn&amp;rsquo;t mention any kind of stuff you shouldn&amp;rsquo;t do or whatever?&amp;rdquo; 
&amp;ldquo;Nope. And now there&amp;rsquo;s&amp;hellip;. &amp;quot; Turning back, she shuffled over to the loosely hanging hall mirror and started feeling around the back of her neck. &amp;ldquo;&amp;hellip; I keep losing it but&amp;hellip; there&amp;rsquo;s definitely some kind of&amp;hellip; &lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt; sticking out of my neck whenever I&amp;rsquo;m inside the suit.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drastic Measures</title><link>/stories/2018/05/20/drastic-measures/</link><pubDate>Sun, 20 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/20/drastic-measures/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jerome would never forget the words that ended his life:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Congratulations, Donor 896. You’re still fertile.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;***&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Everyone had been so concerned about the Nork nukes. There was lots of saber rattling, lots of heated rhetoric, lots of back and forth accusations. The missile launches were almost anticlimactic. The lack of nuclear fire was almost expected. Everyone knew the Norks couldn’t have gotten a nuclear warhead on a missile. It was simply beyond them.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Spandex Story</title><link>/stories/2018/05/02/a-spandex-story/</link><pubDate>Wed, 02 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/02/a-spandex-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My girlfriend of several years and I have always enjoyed an active and varied sex life; as well as &amp;ldquo;vanilla&amp;rdquo; sex, she indulges my passion for spandex and bondage every now and then, and we switch between dominant and submissive roles fairly freely.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;On a whim, when I was in town I spotted an adult store that had opened recently, and dropped in to have a look. Most of our bondage gear came from online shopping or Anne Summers, so I&amp;rsquo;d never been into a &amp;ldquo;real&amp;rdquo; sex shop before, and to be honest I was a little curious. I looked around at the various vibrators, restraints and costumes, but nothing was really catching my eye.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Maid to Serve 2</title><link>/stories/2018/03/21/maid-to-serve-2/</link><pubDate>Wed, 21 Mar 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/03/21/maid-to-serve-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="maidtoserve.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maid to Serve&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It had been exactly a year since I began working for George Fournier and his extremely wealthy family as a live-in Maid-bot. George and his wife Veronica always made me feel welcome and wanted even if it was just through acknowledging my hard work. 
My days mostly consisted of helping Veronica with her daily chores and being a guinea pig for her latest fashion ideas. It was a fun job and it was made even easier when they began adding more robots to the system. 
George expanded the house to encompass another full house in size so they thought I could use some help. Now there are two other bots roaming around. One busty blonde named Carrie and a skinny Asian woman named Wu. 
The three of us shared a living quarters, meaning we each had a separate storage pod in the room designated as our home. It was cozy and I rarely left the estate other than on the odd weekend I feel like relaxing as a human or visiting the few friends I kept in contact with. 
All-in-all it was a fun and enjoyable job, especially after their son left for college. I was no longer tormented by his stupid attempts to get me in bed. 
This day started out just like any other simple work day. I woke up around 8 a.m. and exited my pod. The other two bots were hard at work in the kitchen making our lovely owners breakfast. It was my job to go and wake them up.
I quietly enter the room and approach the sleeping couple. I gently shake Veronica with my hands. 
“Mistress Veronica, it is time to wake up. Carrie and Wu have been making breakfast for you two and I will make your bed before starting the laundry you have assigned me to do,” I say as I head back out towards the closet to grab the second set of sheets. 
“Thanks Mari. You are a life saver.” She says groggily and before too long both she and George are out of their room and enjoying breakfast. 
I finish making their bed and drag the laundry down to the washer. It takes a while but I finish the three loads and hang all their clothes up by the end of the afternoon. When I am done, I notice that there is a message for me on their nightstand that I must have missed when they left for work. 
“Hey Mari. We have a worker coming to inspect the other bots today. You can just say you are our daughter and act normal when he is here. After he leaves just make sure the other girls are working and you are free to go ~ Veronica”
Right after I finished reading the sheet I heard the front door open and decided to check what was going on. 
I arrived in the foyer and saw a weird looking robot with a single eye and with a wheel instead of leg. I assumed it was the “worker” and approached the bot. 
“Hey there. My name is Mari Fournier; my parents aren’t home right now but they told me you were coming. I can show you to the models we have here and you can assess them.” I said while turning to walk towards the robot room. 
I heard some beeps and a simple “Agreed” from my visitor before he started to trail me and I walked into the room I had learned to call home. 
The worker bot began to scan the room and inspect all the maintenance machines with his glowing red eye. He makes a few adjustments along the way before reaching the three containers, two of which contained Carrie and Wu, the other being my “bed”. 
He briefly flashed over them all before turning and scanning me. 
“This home unit has designated that two Model-87Ks and one older Models-63G in use at all times. There are only the two Model-87Ks present. Where is the other unit?” he asks with a passive voice. 
“Uh… our other model is not present because she is being used by my younger brother for moving purposes. Is it necessary for her to be here?” I ask hoping he bought my excuse even though he is looking unconvinced, at least from what his one eye tells me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Maid to Serve 2</title><link>/stories/2018/03/21/maid-to-serve-2/</link><pubDate>Wed, 21 Mar 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/03/21/maid-to-serve-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="maidtoserve.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maid to Serve&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It had been exactly a year since I began working for George Fournier and his extremely wealthy family as a live-in Maid-bot. George and his wife Veronica always made me feel welcome and wanted even if it was just through acknowledging my hard work. 
My days mostly consisted of helping Veronica with her daily chores and being a guinea pig for her latest fashion ideas. It was a fun job and it was made even easier when they began adding more robots to the system. 
George expanded the house to encompass another full house in size so they thought I could use some help. Now there are two other bots roaming around. One busty blonde named Carrie and a skinny Asian woman named Wu. 
The three of us shared a living quarters, meaning we each had a separate storage pod in the room designated as our home. It was cozy and I rarely left the estate other than on the odd weekend I feel like relaxing as a human or visiting the few friends I kept in contact with. 
All-in-all it was a fun and enjoyable job, especially after their son left for college. I was no longer tormented by his stupid attempts to get me in bed. 
This day started out just like any other simple work day. I woke up around 8 a.m. and exited my pod. The other two bots were hard at work in the kitchen making our lovely owners breakfast. It was my job to go and wake them up.
I quietly enter the room and approach the sleeping couple. I gently shake Veronica with my hands. 
“Mistress Veronica, it is time to wake up. Carrie and Wu have been making breakfast for you two and I will make your bed before starting the laundry you have assigned me to do,” I say as I head back out towards the closet to grab the second set of sheets. 
“Thanks Mari. You are a life saver.” She says groggily and before too long both she and George are out of their room and enjoying breakfast. 
I finish making their bed and drag the laundry down to the washer. It takes a while but I finish the three loads and hang all their clothes up by the end of the afternoon. When I am done, I notice that there is a message for me on their nightstand that I must have missed when they left for work. 
“Hey Mari. We have a worker coming to inspect the other bots today. You can just say you are our daughter and act normal when he is here. After he leaves just make sure the other girls are working and you are free to go ~ Veronica”
Right after I finished reading the sheet I heard the front door open and decided to check what was going on. 
I arrived in the foyer and saw a weird looking robot with a single eye and with a wheel instead of leg. I assumed it was the “worker” and approached the bot. 
“Hey there. My name is Mari Fournier; my parents aren’t home right now but they told me you were coming. I can show you to the models we have here and you can assess them.” I said while turning to walk towards the robot room. 
I heard some beeps and a simple “Agreed” from my visitor before he started to trail me and I walked into the room I had learned to call home. 
The worker bot began to scan the room and inspect all the maintenance machines with his glowing red eye. He makes a few adjustments along the way before reaching the three containers, two of which contained Carrie and Wu, the other being my “bed”. 
He briefly flashed over them all before turning and scanning me. 
“This home unit has designated that two Model-87Ks and one older Models-63G in use at all times. There are only the two Model-87Ks present. Where is the other unit?” he asks with a passive voice. 
“Uh… our other model is not present because she is being used by my younger brother for moving purposes. Is it necessary for her to be here?” I ask hoping he bought my excuse even though he is looking unconvinced, at least from what his one eye tells me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jump the Fence</title><link>/stories/2018/02/21/jump-the-fence/</link><pubDate>Wed, 21 Feb 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/02/21/jump-the-fence/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Moving to a new neighborhood was hard, of course any move was hard, but jumping the fence into the neighbor&amp;rsquo;s yard late at night when they were not home to use their Jacuzzi was easy. Jessi didn&amp;rsquo;t even hesitate to jump the fence she was just that kind of carefree kind of gal, and she didn&amp;rsquo;t really think they would mind even if they did catch her, the man of the house had seemed like a nice guy for the 10 seconds that she had met him as she was trying to organize and manage her moving crew. Jessi just wished she had had more time to talk to him, she liked to know her neighbors. Plus her muscles were killing her from the stress of packing and unpacking, and the long drive from out of town. She wondered if this guy had kids, she would not have guess that he did, it was just a hunch, but now that she was seeing his pool she was reconsidering her hunch. The pool was filled with weird toys all over the place. Most of it looked like blow up pool toys, and most of them were in the shapes of bugs or the occasional bird, lizard, dog, or cat. Jessi had to assume that toys like this belonged to a little boy so she refrained from her original plan to strip out of her bathing suite and use her birthday suite instead. It had been up in the air until seeing the toys but she now had the answer to her earlier question: No, she would not get in the mood to take the “little man in the boat” on a whitewater rafting trip on one of the water jets from the Jacuzzi.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Programming Error</title><link>/stories/2017/12/02/programming-error/</link><pubDate>Sat, 02 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/12/02/programming-error/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Gail was stunned by the situation she had gotten herself into and tried to understand what had happened and how she could release herself hoping the computer had not used the incredibly tough metal for the entire project. Gail had been working for the company for two years as a computer programmer and entering all the data into the computer that would create the requested items. The computer controlled the amazing machine completely requiring no human interaction until the finished piece exited the production line. Gail had been tinkering with the program having the machine make toys for her favorite past time of self bondage for several months enjoying and expanding on what the machine could really do. Gail had already let the machine scan her naked body keeping the specs for it and her toys in a separate server only she and the computer had access to.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Return to the Doll House 2: Mistress Four</title><link>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house-2-mistress-four/</link><pubDate>Thu, 23 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house-2-mistress-four/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="returntothedollhouse.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 2: Mistress Four&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Twenty glanced behind her. Razor-clawed fingers extended from Four’s ball mittens, shredding them to pieces. The long claws glistened like crystal-cut glass. Definitely not any ordinary human. On balance, Twenty had seen things in the Hotel that made the distinction meaningless. What was human after all?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Twenty estimated the distance between her and the alarm. There was no point worrying about treading on the lines now, was there? No more than five seconds if she moved quickly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Flynn &amp; Debbie in the Mannequin Machine</title><link>/stories/2017/02/10/flynn-debbie-in-the-mannequin-machine/</link><pubDate>Fri, 10 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/10/flynn-debbie-in-the-mannequin-machine/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Two department store workers fall into a machine and emerge as mannequins&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Debbie, this is Flynn. She&amp;rsquo;s a new girl, and we&amp;rsquo;re going to start her in Display. Would you mind taking her in hand and showing her what we do?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The supervisor left Flynn with Debbie, who gave the new girl a rather cool greeting. All the girls who worked in the fashion department at Roebuck&amp;rsquo;s were attractive and well-dressed, and Flynn was no exception. But there was a style gap here; none of the other girls wore asymmetrical pigtails, or a top that was cut off to show off a navel piercing, or sneakers with two different bright-colored shoelaces. Flynn was dressing downtown at a very uptown department store. She was a tall, lavishly built brunette who always thought she should lose ten pounds, even though boys never complained. Though she fretted aloud about having a curvy belly instead of a flat one, she had a marked tendency to show that belly off with short tops and low-cut jeans.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Process 8.1: Changes</title><link>/stories/2015/07/29/the-process-8.1-changes/</link><pubDate>Wed, 29 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/07/29/the-process-8.1-changes/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="process71.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Process 7.1: Nanny &amp;amp; the Suit&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This story contains elements of an adult nature. If you are not 18 or stumbled upon this by accident, please move along as there is nothing to see here. Those that are of age, please enjoy. Story contains Magic, Body mod, BE, Penis growth, Living Latex doll, Living latex suit, Automaton, Maid, Preg BDSM, Multiple gender roles.
story continues from &lt;a href="process8.html"&gt;part 8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Four Corners 6: The Three Points</title><link>/stories/2015/05/11/four-corners-6-the-three-points/</link><pubDate>Mon, 11 May 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/05/11/four-corners-6-the-three-points/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="fourcorners5.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Four Corners 5: Andrew/Andrea&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 6: The Three Points&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Entering the clubhouse Sunday morning, Andrew saw the other three already there. &amp;ldquo;Well, ladies,&amp;rdquo; he asked, &amp;ldquo;how was your evening?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;I had fun.&amp;rdquo; Glancing up from his chair, Taylor seemed barely able to contain his smile. Wearing loose pajamas, he half lay in his chair, looking more relaxed than Andrew could ever remember seeing him. &amp;ldquo;It was a great evening.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Marked Mannequins Part 3</title><link>/stories/2011/09/30/marked-mannequins-part-3/</link><pubDate>Fri, 30 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/09/30/marked-mannequins-part-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="marked_mannequins2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marked Mannequins Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;[this is a continuation of the Parts I and II, feel free to read them first, you&amp;rsquo;re in for a treat]&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sandy was all over our store, literally. The thing is that no customer would ever recognize it. Sandy was in her mannequin state. I turned her into a mannequin two weeks ago and had quite some fun with her. With the green marker I was able to disassemble her in any way I wanted. I just had to draw a green line around a body part and a seam would appear at which I could take her apart. I was even able to revive just one part of her by writing an X with the red marker on that body part. If I wanted to bring her back together I&amp;rsquo;d just have to reassemble her and mark the seams with the green marker which then would let the seams disappear. There was another funny thing I noticed while playing around with her. If I put a body part onto any surface and mark the seam with the green marker that body part would be fused with that surface. That opened up quite some new possibilities for us to play with each other. I was even able to revive that body part.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Marked Mannequins</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/marked-mannequins/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/marked-mannequins/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Authors note: Because there are so, so, so, so seldom any stories about mannequins, or at least mannequins that get taken apart and played with. Since there seems to be a lack of those stories I decided to write my own. I had the Idea to this story quite some time ago. And I finally got it done. Well at least the first part - sitting in front of a blinking cursor on a white screen is a very hard exercise. Even though this is only an introduction to the two main characters with some explicit action of course, I also want to know what happens next. So be asured that there will be several more parts coming soon.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Marked Mannequins Part 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/marked-mannequins-part-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/marked-mannequins-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="marked_mannequins.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marked Mannequins&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Leyla and I had quite some fun together within the last three years. After we discovered what kind of markers I got at the auction we wanted to use them as often as we could on one another.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The first day we played with the markers she made me into a mannequin and let me stand in our bedroom for the whole weekend. She took some pictures and showed me what kind of things she had done. There were pictures of me completely disembodied. And my body parts laying everywhere in the room. There was my head next to the mirror wearing that straw hat I love so much. My bust displayed a bra of mine on the night table. One of my legs had a nice colorful knee high stocking on display, while the other just lay next to it. And a sexy g-string was displayed by my ass in the living room next to the TV. My hands were no where on that pictures. But I didn&amp;rsquo;t need any pictures to know what she did with them. I can still feel her breasts and pussy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>