<?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>Enwraped on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/enwraped/</link><description>Recent content in Enwraped on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Wed, 21 Dec 2005 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/enwraped/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Take Out Dinner</title><link>/stories/2005/12/21/take-out-dinner/</link><pubDate>Wed, 21 Dec 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/12/21/take-out-dinner/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Talking
with a special friend online, I found my attention for the forums and the porn
sites waning. It had been about six months since my last posting, and it
seemed my involvement was never missed. I had gotten very caught up in my
work, and not given much thought to my kink.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In
all of my fantasies, I was constantly being treated like an object. This had
many different angles, but in every scenario, I was the center of attention.  I
think that I become blind to the needs of others, and this “fantasy” that
I have to be mummified, or encased, is just proof. I feel selfish and
negligent. Had I not the ability to carry a relationship? No, certainly there
was someone out there for me… and I would find them.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>