<?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>F+-M+ Nympho on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/f-m-nympho/</link><description>Recent content in F+-M+ Nympho on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 15 Nov 2014 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/f-m-nympho/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Babe Bomb 2</title><link>/stories/2014/11/15/the-babe-bomb-2/</link><pubDate>Sat, 15 Nov 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/11/15/the-babe-bomb-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="babebomb.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Babe Bomb&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;&amp;ldquo;Doctor, we have a problem.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;James Watson gazed around the now familiar office. The last time he&amp;rsquo;d been here, one of his inventions had been misused. Now, turning his attention to the man behind the desk, he frowned.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;What have you done now?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Major George Franklin returned the frown. As head of a top secret special projects division, he&amp;rsquo;d borne the blame for the earlier fiasco. It had taken months for the waves from that one to die down, and Franklin had been lucky to keep his rank. Now, leaning back in his chair, he gazed at Watson thoughtfully, as if choosing his words very carefully.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>