<?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>Cube on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/cube/</link><description>Recent content in Cube 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/cube/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Latex Cubed</title><link>/stories/2015/08/16/latex-cubed/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 Aug 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/08/16/latex-cubed/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I always thought working on television would be a glamorous affair. I was wrong. I started working for our local news station in an entry level position. I came to learn later that this meant ‘gofer’. I spent my days getting coffees and running papers everywhere. The only bright spot in my day was Ashely. Ashley Ryanes was our weather girl. About twenty like I was she was a long legged blonde always wearing nice short shorts to show off her slender legs and perfect little ass. Her belly shirts always gave everyone a good view of her firm round cleavage.  I loved doing things for her not only because so was so beautiful but also because she was the only person at the station who had bothered to learn my name.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Chosen</title><link>/stories/2014/02/25/the-chosen/</link><pubDate>Tue, 25 Feb 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/02/25/the-chosen/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finishing School II part 6</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-6/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-6/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Six&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Once she had gone, Sigi said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Mmm, you nearly tried to give the
game away there, Maxine. Well it is too late now, your fate is sealed and there
is no one coming to your rescue, you’ve run out of chances now and soon there
will be no need for secrets.” They took the reins and resumed their seats. I
felt the shocks in my arse increase in frequency and power, and we were off
again. This time she began to whip my rear, as if to teach me a lesson and I had
to go faster and faster, with Sarah at my side trying to keep in step. We ran by
classrooms, and past staring, giggling and shocked faces.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finishing School II part 7</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-7/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-7/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Seven&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I drifted in and out of sleep and
didn’t remember much of the night. As the sun rose and came through the single
high window I started to gain my senses and looked to my side where I saw Sarah.
She was still encased in the glass cube but her headgear had changed overnight.
She still had the tight black and red rubber helmet but strapped around her nose
and mouth she had an aviator’s mask, the hose of which led to an inhalation
canister attached to the side of her glass box. I didn’t know what was in it,
but I surmised it would be pungent rubber. Her cheeks were also puffed out and
she was plainly well gagged underneath. The front of her mask was now covered in
dried juices and I could only imagine how she had spent the night. She seemed to
be asleep or at least dozing and I chose not to wake her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Finishing School II part 8</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-8/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/finishing-school-ii-part-8/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Eight&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We had plenty of
time before Miss Broad and the others would come for a chat, and so we decided
to renew our acquaintance! We lay back on the latex waterbed and pulled the
latex sheet over us. It was wonderful being in the same bed as Sarah again,
doing normal things. Don’t get me wrong, normal sex is just fine with me, and
with Sarah it was sublime. But the added piquancy of the rubber made it so I
never wanted it to stop. This was how I wanted it to be for us in the future,
for good. In the dark, snuggled up under the sheet, all in a tangle of arms and
legs and sweat, Sarah confirmed that it didn’t, it couldn’t get better than
this. So in between having our mouths otherwise engaged in other activities and
while catching our breath we discussed our future together.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>