Foam on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Brianna the Alligator Girl

Mon, 20 May 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Brian’s phone rings.

“Brian I have a really unusual request.”

“I bet it’s not, nothing you want is unusual.”

“I’m willing to bet to haven’t heard of this one before.”

“Surprise me.”

“Ok here goes, I need a girl who is willing to go into an alligator skin.”

“That’s not what I was expecting, how is that unusual?”

“It is because the girl would need to stay in the alligator skin for a couple of months.”

Cassandra Cyborg's Vacation

Tue, 10 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000

This story continues Cassie’s life as a Cyborg from Cassandra the Cyborg by Megadragon520 & Cassandra Cyborg - A Day in Her New Life by PoseMe

Mr Hanson was to be out of town for about week. Alli and Cassie had begged to go. Work was taking him to the west coast, and their beach house was right on the beach. He figured they would never leave him alone, so he agreed. This was going to be Cassie’s first trip to the west, and she could not think of a better way to go. Her and Alli spent days packing and preparing. They wanted to be ready for anything. In some ways, Cassie was more excited than Alli. Alli gets to go places regularly, but Cassie, being on staff at Alli’s mansion, has to stay and work her way through college. For Cassie, this will really be a vacation: time away from work. Cassie would be traveling as a person for the entire trip. Typically, cyborgs do not travel with human passengers on flights, but since she has all the paperwork of a person, she was able to get a flight permit, airline ticket, boarding pass, and luggage approval like Alli and her dad. She had packed a portable charger and a spare repair kit, just in case, but she had not needed any help since her dad “built” her. But, she says to herself as she packs her bag tight, I don’t wanna get found out or be without some help. The trip out was fairly uneventful. Cassie had never been to an airport, so she was pointing at everything with an “ooo” and “aah.” Alli grew tired of her “tourist look”, so she put in her earbuds before they even checked their bags. All three showed their identification and tickets and passes to all the right people without incident. The scanner for weapons might have been a problem, but Cassie’s dad had planned for this. When the scanner went over her, her body reflected a human skeleton and all the organs to go with it. The computer software was satisfied, so they waved her through. The flight was another “tourist affair”, as Cassie continued to “ooo” and “aah”. Alli pretended to be asleep while Cassie went on and on to the lady next to her. Mr Hanson was up in first class, so he was oblvious to it all. Arrival at San Fransisco was a thrill (if your Cassie) or a reason to wake-up (if your Alli). They gathered their bags from the luggage area, once they scanned their flight permits. With luggage being wheeled behind them by rental cyborgs, the “family” went to the car to ride in comfort to their home away from home. The beach house was another mansion, if you asked Cassie. It was not as big as their other mansion, but it had 4 floors, floor to ceiling windows, bright colors, 5 car garage, 2 kitchens, 8 bedrooms, and well, you get the idea. There were no servants in this place, but the fridge was fully stocked and every possible amenity could be found in the bathroom or broom closet. The girls did not even unpack before walking straight through the house to the beach. The warm salty air blowing off the ocean was intoxicating. Their shoes came off as they walked through the warm sand. Their hair blew in the breeze as they soaked in their new environment. They giggled like little girls as they ran out into the surf, splashing each other and enjoying the setting Sun. Cassie had never been more happy. Her cyborg body was designed to blend in, and it does so quite well. It will use sunlight for recharging, but it will also adjust skin color as well. As Cassie soaks up sunlight, her skin, like any human, will get darker. She can get a tan without getting burnt, as her skin is a polymer that can withstand nearly 200 degrees Celsius. Even her eyes can adjust with a built-in filter to lower the Sun’s intensity. For that human touch, she still puts on sunscreen and wears sunglasses. With all that has happened lately, it feels good to be “human.” Over the next 3 days, they all fell into a routine. Mr Hanson would be up early and out the door to work. The girls would sleep in, grab a quick breakfast from the pantry, slip on their bathing suits, and head to the beach. The rest of the morning would be spent sunbathing and walking the coast looking for shells. When they got hungry, they would find a street vendor, or maybe a sand vendor, to get some lunch. As with every stop, there would be the guy or group of guys that hit on them. Cassie was too nervous to know what to do with that. Alli could care less about boys. She was waiting for the right guy who cared nothing about her money or looks to come along. She had not found one yet, but she loved to play the game. Cassie would watch her pull guys in and around her finger as she talked to them. She would move just the right way. She would talk in the right tone. She might even lightly brush against one. They would offer drinks, maybe some food, and maybe… but they never got further. Alli would shut the whole thing down, hook arms with Cassie, and wave goodbye to them as the girls walked away. Most of the guys would just scratch their heads, wondering what happened. Some would kick the sand and bolt. There would be one or two that tried to follow them, but Alli would not have it. And like a wounded puppy, the boys would eventually get the hint. At first, Cassie did not know what to do about this flirting thing. I mean, she had never thought about it before. Watching Alli, it seemed so natural. But, Cassie figures, I bet it is harder than it looks. And the logical side of her would eventually conclude with: what’s the point of flirting anyway? Mr Hanson would return at dinner time and take them out to a fancy restaurant. They would talk about their day, and like a good dad, he would nod and smile to their antics. There would be obligatory question of staying out late, but he would not have it. Alli usually fought harder for her way, but she sensed that now was not a battle to fight. On their next to last day, Mr Hanson came home earlier than usual. The girls were still sunbathing when he came up, casting a shadow on both of them. “Well, girls,” he said, “my business trip is over. Time to go home.” The looks on the young ladies’ faces must have spoken volumes. He could see their disappointment. But before they could get out more than just a pitiful whine, he adds, “Which is why I am heading back tonight, while you all are on the early flight the day after tomorrow.” This time it was his turn to be surprised, as both of them jumped up and hugged him. Proper is an adjective that describes him well, but at this point in time, he did not mind his suit and hair being “ruined” by his “two daughters.” Cassie and Alli did not sleep from the time he left until their flight. They spent as much time as they could on the beach: in the sand, in the surf, at the vendors, on the boardwalk, and everywhere inbetween. They were up all night at various clubs and lounges, flirting their way through each. They had so much fun, not worrying about sleeping, figuring they could do that on the flight home. The morning to the airport was frantic as you would expect. They had left stuff all over the house and had to retrieve it all at the last minute. As Alli called a taxi, Cassie made a realization that put a damper on the whole weekend: she couldn’t find her airline ticket. After packing everything they brought, she located flight permit, boarding pass, and luggage approval. However, her airline ticket was missing. As they both searched while waiting for the taxi, they heard a knock at the door. While Cassie continued to look, Alli opened the door to see a pair of cyborg maids at the door. They were not programmed to talk, but the card in their extended hands stated they were here to clean the beach house after the guests had left. Alli nodded and let them in. As Cassie came towards the front of the beach house, she was taken back to her normal life at the sight of the maids. Ugh, she thinks, I gotta go back to that already? Contemplating that, Alli says, “You know, if you can’t find it, maybe you can just board as a cyborg?” as she points to one of the cleaning maids. “Hmmm,” Cassie replies, “I could probably fit into one of those outfits.” After powering both of them off, then stripping them down, Alli and Cassie piece together a maid outfit that will work. It is not the quality she is used to, nor is the material. Cassie never realized how much she has come to enjoy latex, as she squirms in her cheap cotton uniform. It is a light gray dress with white trim. The shoes are cheap black plastic, as is the hair band. The gloves are more utility than the rest of the uniform, but it works. Walking around without panties would be embarrassing, so she added her own pair to wear. She even added a bra, too, as the cotton was irritating her. She could have adjusted her sensitivity, but with the taxi pulling into the driveway, there was no time. Alli commands, “Get the bags, maid, and take them to the car.” Cassie finds her body responding before she can check it. With the mutliple bags in each hand and under her arm, she replies, “Uh, there is no one around yet, Alli.” She giggles back and says, “I know, but we should start playing the part.” The ride to the airport is uneventful and the taxi driver did not question them. Alli tipped like a rich person, while Cassie took the bags inside. Alli joins her friend at the airline counter, where their troubles continued. “…but there is no room for your maid, even if she has a boarding pass.” Alli has turned a slight shade of red, “But we have all the necessary papers for her to travel with me.” The airline personnel are trying to be calm as they reply, “Yes, but you did not confirm your flight until this morning, so we already sold the other seat. Your maid will have to be checked as luggage.” Cassie did not like the sound of that. While Alli was midway into her “you gotta change your policy” speech, the announcemnt for their plane to board could be heard everywhere. Cassie, maintaining her neutral pose and facial expression, stated, “Madam, you should board your plane so that your luggage will arrive with you.” Alli nods her head, says a few more choice words that cannot be repeated here, then signs the tags for the luggage. Grabbing her documents from the lady behind the counter, she pecks Cassie on the check and runs to her gate. “Bot, step forward,” the lady says in a very unfreindly tone. “Your owner is something else, and I would say what I think of her but I’m sure she will ask you later.” Cassie tries not to grin at that. Holding out her hand, she places a tag around her wrist, just the same as all of the other bags. “Step behind the counter.” Cassie complies as the rest of the bags are thrown onto a conveyor belt behind the counter. Cassie can feel something touching the back of her neck. Suddenly, she feels her joints tightening up, forcing her to curl up into a ball. Satisfied, the lady pushes her onto the conveyor belt. Like a sack that is tightly wrapped up, Cassie falls onto the conveyor belt then travels along as more luggage is added around her. So much for that upgrade to first class, Cassie thinks sarcastcially. After a few minutes, she finds that she can move again, but chooses to stay curled up. No sense in drawing too much attention to myself, Cassie thinks to herself. The intricate belt system behind the scenes of air travel is a wonder, and Cassie is soon lost in the size of it all. There are conveyor belts going in every direction in every way. Scanning bots will redirect luggage as it should go throughout the process. She is not sure exactly what happened, but she is finally deposited onto a table with three guys in coveralls staring at her. “Yeah,” the tall one says, “No way it can go into the overhead compartment.” The shortest one says, “Under the seat is out of the question.” The overweight one suggests, “Well, we can just box her up, put her in with the suitcases, and hope for the best.” They each shrug their shoulders and do just that. As they begin to start to wrap her up, the tall one says, “Hey, let’s just put her through the regular packaging chute.” The shortest one replies, “It would do a better job of wrapping her securely than us,” then steps away from her. The overweight one says, “And we would not have to do anything but push her through that hole,” then steps away, too. Finally, the tall one says as he puts both hands on Cassie’s shoulders, “Job done!” And with that, he pushes her back. A little fearful of hitting her head, but more fearful of being caught, she maintains her composure and lets herself fall into the hole behind her. As she sinks into the darkness, she thinks, so much for better service from union employees. The bottom of the chute puts her onto another conveyor belt. The room is loud with the sounds of machinery and not lit very well. She adjusts her “eyes” to brighten the room. Even her amazing computerized brain cannot take in all of the movement of the many conveyor belts and robotic arms and flashing lights. Speaking of that, her body is bathed in a red light. Turning her head slightly, she can see a screen on the left, displaying her name and number and owner and all other manner of information. As she rolls past, the screen changes to show one word: package. “Package?” she murmurs. I hope that is what they say for every cyborg, she thinks positively. At her next stop, her cheap maid outfit is removed. She is able to move if she wants, but the robotic arms are moving so fast, she is afraid that if she helps, she might get damaged. She takes a quick look around at the other items being packaged. Evidently, she was moved to the larger package section, as she sees many other androids. They are all different, but as she looks closer in her brief moment, they all look the same. They each have perfect skin, perfect features, and lay still throughout whatever process they are going through. There is no way a regular person could do that, she reasons, we are much more calm. As she steals another quick glance around between the arms going around her, she is surprised by her admission: we. I guess I forget how I’m not human, Cassie thinks to herself with a hint of sadness. Her days seem so normal to a human, but she is anything but that. An obvious pleasure android waits on a different conveyor, with her proportions out of the normal range, and while Cassie might have had some thought against that type of robot, she now sees her differently. We were all built with a specific purpose, she starts thinking, and I was designed to be as human as possible, and she was designed to bring as much pleasure to a human. Her thoughts are interrupted by the robotic arms manipulating her. Within seconds, she is naked and laying on the conveyor belt. Her hair is removed and bagged. What, she screams inside, that is the only one I have. Before she can really lament over that, she changes conveyor belts and picks up speed. She gets passed onto a screen-type conveyor. The belt has holes in it as if it needs to drain water. And with that, she is doused with a cleansing solution. She was not expecting that, so it goes all in her mouth and eyes. This would sting a normal person and taste bad. For her, she says as she smacks her lips, it just tastes bad. The robotic arms are not careful or slow. They roughly grab her arms and legs, manipulating her position and posture. She is dried and sprayed with a thin sealer. That explains, she reasons, why they remove the hair. As they drop her back onto the conveyor belt like a bag of trash, she notices the sealer is pretty cheap. If she moves her fingers, she can feel it cracking at her joints. She grins at that, and accidentally cracks it some more. A light dust, almost like baby powder, is then dropped onto her. The arms once again grab her and move her in all types of positions as a buffing brush is moved all over her. Just as before, the arms leave as quick as they come, leaving her in an awkward postion on the conveyor. The next station straightens her out then clamps her arms and legs to the belt. A different type of robotic arm enters her vision and puts a rubber-type device over her neck which covers her mouth and chin. She can feel it cinch around her tightly, holding her mouth shut. Before she can react, she sees a green light flash on her face then a statement made from a speaker: “mouth protection installed.” Ah, she thinks, they want to make sure I don’t damage my teeth or tongue in bouncing along. The next station removes each leg and arm from the restraints as it installs the same rubber-type gloves and socks on her. The gloves have no fingers, so it is like a mitten. When cinched tight, she cannot move any of her fingers. In the same way, the socks restrict all toe movement. This has gotta be the weirdest experience, she thinks to herself, even for me. With her fingers and toes and mouth secured, she continues to the next station. This one scans her in red then flips her over. The robotic voice says: “Secured. Apply quality control stamp.” With her face down on the conveyor, she cannot see the robotic gun that hovers over her. She can feel it come down like a hammer and whack her on the right butt cheek. “oomph”, she squeals. “that hurt,” she says to herself. The light flashes red again and the voice says, “Error: stamp not applied. Repeat.” Repeat? she thinks with a slight whimper. Wham! It attempts to ‘spank’ the stamp on her again. When it does not work again, it continues to spank her over and over again. Somewhere around the 10-12th time, the stamp sticks, the light turns green, and she is sent on her way. Oh, she sighs, my butt really hurts. She turns her sensors down in that area, so it does not linger until her “skin” can repair itself. The end of the conveyor belt comes without warning. I’m flying, she screams inside, as she lands in pile of bags and luggage, along with a few other androids (she even sees that pleasure bot stuck under a giant trunk). She half sits up to check her surroundings, but before she can really take in the giant pile of multi-colored and -sized bags, she is hit in the head with other pieces of new luggage. Ow, she sighs again, this has got to be the worst trip I have ever taken. Again, multiple arms come and go, snatching bags and pieces of luggage. She is hoisted eventually by her feet into the air. And this is why I do not like roller coasters, she squeals, I don’t like being upside down. She is deposited, head first, into a small box. The arm releases her, so as her legs tumble over, the whole box does as well. As she lays there, she cannot help but wonder exactly how this all happened to her. She wants to move, but she is not sure who is watching since she cannot see really well out of the box. Her legs are at odd angles, but she leaves them just in case. As she lays there awkwardly in and out of a box, she takes a moment to relax. This has been the quietest this day has been, she says to herself. She can hear all kinds of machinery going to and fro, and there are blurs of movement from her limited field of view. Surely, she never thought her day would end up like this. I mean seriously, she thinks sarcastically, who could ever dream something like this up? She does not have to wait too long before she feels her legs being picked up. The box and her are righted upright. Before she can think about being upside down again, her legs are folded into the box. What? she squeals, there is no way I’m gonna fit in this small box. The arms must have thought differently, as they quickly tuck her legs into the empty spaces around Cassie. Her entire body is like a giant pretzel now, filling all of the available space of the box. Her face is covered but for one eye, so she can half see out of the box. The arms leave and are replaced by some type of nozzle. Uh oh, that does not look good. A pink goo pours out of the nozzle and onto her. Within seconds, she is covered in this goop. Before she can think “ew” it turns into a solid shape, completely filling every empty space in the box. With everything muffled and now completely dark, she can barely make out the phrase: “packing foam applied.” Well, she thinks with a final thought on this day, at least I will be safe if they drop me out of the plane… while it is still flying. She feels the box being moved then pushed then pulled then dropped then left alone. She feels a slight vibration throughout the box. Hmm, she figures, I must be on the truck headed to the plane. Her ride to the airplane is bumpy and not pleasant: she must have done a dozen somersaults over the next few minutes, until her ride finally stops. There is a loud noise or hum that gets even through her packing foam, so she figures she is being loaded on the plane now, and like the rest of the luggage, she is dropped in a pile of more bags. She can tell she is tilted at an angle. Once the plane starts moving, there is nothing she can do. There is no way she can unpack herself and explain it, so there is only one choice: sleep mode. Shutting most of her systems down, which makes her uncomfortable position much more pleasant, she eventually goes to “sleep.”

Cassandra Cyborg's Vacation

Tue, 10 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000

This story continues Cassie’s life as a Cyborg from Cassandra the Cyborg by Megadragon520 & Cassandra Cyborg - A Day in Her New Life by PoseMe

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.

Trip To The Chocolate Factory

Thu, 04 May 2017 00:00:00 +0000

After winning some tickets online, you were on a tour, with a couple of other people, going around a huge chocolate factory that was fully automated, even the robot tour guide that was now leading you past a large glass window looking down on the factory floor and you can see all the conveyors and tanks and machines, it looked like something out of HOP and you also notice an unlocked door next to the window and this tour was far too boring.

The Laundromat

Thu, 09 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000

The Laundromat - featuring brushslut Pulling up outside her local laundromat, Catherine hoped out of her car and retrieved a basket full of dirty laundry. “Typical of the washer to break down when i need it the most” you grumble to yourself. Pushing open the door with your back, you enter into a small room, with what looked like the baggage collection out of an airport, but it was entirely automated, no one in sight, as you walk up to one of the conveyors, dumping all your clothes onto it as its weighed, a robotic voice announces the price " that will be £20.55". Pulling out your touch-less credit card you wave it in front of the scanner as a robot arm places a sticker on each piece of clothing before its whisked away through some plastic strips and into another room. The stickers had a barcode on it to keep track of all the clothing and know who’s it was. As you go to put your card away a guy carrying a large load of laundry, so much he couldn’t see where he was going as he bumped into you sending you onto the conveyor belt. “That will be £50.20” as your card now ended up flying through the air before coming back down landing right on the scanner. Now you’re grabbed by the robot arms as they stick a sticker right on your mouth, shutting you up as they also stick the rest of your clothing. Before you or the guy had time to react you were already on your way along the conveyor at lightning speed through the plastic strips, struggling and wiggleing but unable to do or say anything as the conveyor belt pulls her along at such a rapid pace.

Moving April

Sun, 05 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000

April walked into her house for the last time. Today was the final day of moving with only big pieces of furniture to move that her husband and friends were taking care of later. She had just gotten back from work early, her boss kind enough to let her leave early.

Walking onto her back porch, it was a lovely sunny day out over looking her pool and backyard. Taking advantage of the lovely day April stripped out of her shorts and t-shirt revealing a bikini. Since she worked at a spa she usually wore bikini’s under her clothes.

Afterparty

Sun, 10 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000

When the party at the university broke up, Laura realized she was in trouble. She had had fun - some drinks, but she wasn’t drunk. She had been dancing, had been kissing a few, but now the party was over and everybody was heading home.

It was late - too late. To get home she would need the train, but to get to the train station, she had planned to go by bus. And by now the bus had ceased driving for the night. She could get a cab, but her finances didn’t allow this. She had a pass-card for public transportation, allowing her to go whenever she wanted. But of course within the regular hours of the transportation.

The Unusual Hotel

Fri, 17 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Going back through some old files I found this one that was originally posted to the first plaza forum in 2005 from Darkraptor.

“Here’s my first attempt at a packaged story, so please let me know what you think”. The Unusual Hotel By Darkraptor1 The address was correct. 1739 Everlast Way. But she didn’t expect the house to be so… big. She had imagined perhaps a small middle class house. But what she got was a mansion three stories high, practically the size of the White House. Audrey walked up to main gates, her taxi driving down the road behind her. She reached the gates and found a small intercom embedded in the stone corners of the main gate. She pressed the button. A female voice answered. “Please state your business.” The voice requested. Audrey looked at the small business card she was holding. “I’m here to visit with Mr. Hunning. I… uh… I had a 10:00 appointment with him.” There was a slight pause. “Name please.” The intercom said. “Audrey Frost.” “Passcode please.” Audrey looked at a ten-digit number on the business card and read it out. The gates unlocked with a sharp click. “Thank you. Have a nice day.” The voice said. The gates of the mansion parted, granting Audrey access to the road leading up to the front gate. She put the card in her purse and walked down the road towards the mansion. The gates closed behind her with a loud clang. The oak doors of the mansion opened before Audrey even reached the front step. A handsome looking man walked out to greet her. “Miss. Frost I presume?” He asked. A nod confirmed his question. “I am Mr. Hunning. I’ve gotten everything all set up for you. Please come inside.” Audrey was struck by how handsome this man was. He was only in his thirties, but he was obviously rich and happy with life. The two walked into the house. Audrey couldn’t help but let out a little gasp when she saw the main lobby of the mansion. A black iron chandelier lit the room. Dark green covered the walls and the floor in the form of paint and carpet. “You like my green color?” Hunning asked. “I’ve always thought that the green symbolized the earth. The earth that we must all end up entombed in.”

Robot Costume

Thu, 06 Nov 2014 00:00:00 +0000

The two things that have fascinated Jim since he was young were robots and bondage. Jim always liked to be on the losing team of cops and robbers and always wanted to be the robots he saw in the movies. It was more the robots that drove him to be an engineer in hope to be able to build a real one but as he learned about his trade the more he began to apply his skills towards bondage.

A Trip to the Cottage

Mon, 31 Mar 2014 00:00:00 +0000

After 4 days, Paul had finally finished, on this Monday morning everything was ready. There on the bench before him was the box. It was 2ft square and 2ft 6 inches high, the sides and top were all of solid wood; one side could be removed and then secured with screws. The box was mounted on a wooden pallet, in end one of the box was a round hole 1 ½" in diameter, going through the base of the box and the pallet. Paul lifted the box down onto the garage floor and went to get his wife. Kay had a thing about being trussed up and boxed, so without her knowing he had made the box as a surprise.

The Punishment Chair 12: Broken

Thu, 02 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part eleven

Part 12: Broken

Kat was helpless, trapped in extreme rubber bondage. She was made to breath slowly through her gas mask by the machines and computers that controlled her. She was completely unable to move inside the metal space suit. She spent the first 30 minutes trying to escape. She struggled, she wriggled, she pulled and pushed against the leather cuffs and expandable form holding her restrained. After a couple of hours Kat had stopped trying to escape, she know it was hopeless. She just couldn’t move an inch. This was only made worst by the computer ordering the first round of fitness shocks. They would keep Kat’s muscles strong and healthy.

The Punishment Chair 11: Immobilized

Fri, 13 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part ten

Part 11: Immobilized

Kat had spend the night in her heavy rubber bondage sleepsack, she was extremely excited about what her punishment would be. It had taken her some time to work out why she had loved the punishment chair and all the other bondage session that had followed it, it was because she loved being so submissive. She loved being covered in rubber and humiliated. She was starting to get very wet and horny as she laid there locked in her suit. Kat was daydreaming about what would happen to her. She would have started playing with herself if the straitjacket hadn’t stop her. The latex covering her body was squeaking loudly as she struggled, she knew she could not escape and it was that very thought that drove her mad.

Simple Enough

Sat, 03 Aug 2013 00:00:00 +0000

Amie had a simple enough plan, but first she needed to prepare herself. Wanting to feel sexy, not just look sexy Amie stepped in front of the full length mirror in the master bedroom. She slowly and seductively removed her work clothes trying to excite herself by imagining what her husband must see when she strips for him like this. Amie looked at her shoulders as they were exposed and took note of her perfect skin. As her pert supple breasts popped out of her silk blouse she caressed her stiff nipples that were aching from the stimulation of the day (no bra today, in anticipation of tonight, though she had a nice jacket on all day to hide her excited nipples from the world.)

Home Sweet Box

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1

“Mmppff.”

Those three little grunts were about all Emily could muster, but it was all her friend Alexis needed to hear. To Alexis, those three simple grunts meant time was up, and she assisted her friend out of her bondage.

To anyone who didn’t know Emily as well as Alexis did, the sight certainly would have been surprising – a petite, 5’ 4” brunette, considered to be beautiful by most, lying on her basement floor completely naked, save for the various restraints and devices attached to young 22-year-old. Four steel cuffs, two on her wrists and two on her ankles, each attached to their own chain pulling her into a spread eagle position. A bright red ball gag locked firmly behind her teeth. A black leather blindfold strapped tightly around her head.

Trapped in the Dumpster 8: The Egg

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Trapped in the Dumpster 7: A Self-made Present)

Authors note: This is the 8th part of my ‘Trapped in the Dumpster’ series. And the background is matching for Easter. Thanks to Doctor Vader for his helping hand. Continued from Part Seven

Easter Sunday….Two minutes past midnight in my time….Time to hide an egg…..Who’ll find it?

Part 8: The Egg

The time went by and I was fully recovered from my last adventure, which ended inside a huge present case and inside a dumpster. I hadn’t expected that last playtime. I just wanted to make him a special present for Christmas. To my luck he’d used only clothes to stuff the remaining space in my case and with the old clothes wrapped around me I couldn’t get too cold that it became really dangerous for me. But although I got cold and had to stay several days in bed after he’d got me back - even New Year’s Eve, I had to stay in bed. I had gotten a fever and felt really ill for several days. As I awoke in the early evening of New Year’s Eve, he sat at the bed and stroked my hand. I smiled at him, rolled onto my side and rested my free hand on his. “It seems, you’ll not be able to go out and celebrate today.” he started, “It’s a shame, but you still have a fever.” “Well… Yes.” I replied. “I think so too. But what about you? Will you stay at home and be here at my bedside?” He seemed really thoughtful for a moment and continued to stroke my hand. “Well….” he started carefully. “I think, I’ll stay here with you. I can watch TV until a little before midnight, then wake you so we can chink our glasses and drink a little bit to greet the New Year. Then I can simply join you in bed and we can sleep together.” I listened to him carefully and felt happy about his words. But somehow I felt, there was more. Weakly I propped up on one elbow and looked deep into his eyes. “I know, there is more.” I told him, “You said that just to make me feel good and I thank you for that. It’s very kind of you, but please share all of your thoughts with me.” “Well… I’ve got an invitation…” he replied and took my hand into a firm grip. “It’s for a small private party, but I would prefer to stay here with you.” “A private party?” I asked and raised one eyebrow, “What should be wrong with that?” “Well, the invitation is from Steffanie.” he replied quickly. I let my head sink back onto the pillow and looked at him for a moment. I hadn’t expected, that Steffanie would invite him to a party. My feverish thoughts started to race. “The invitation is for you too.” he said quickly, as he saw my thoughtful look. “But since you’re ill, I’m not wanting to go without you.” I had to smile at his words. He was really considerate to me. Now I started to stroke over the back of his hand, still looking into his eyes. “You’re so dear.” I said in my feverish voice, “I give you great credit for that. But just because I’m ill, you shouldn’t miss a nice party. And I’m feeling better than the last few days, so you haven’t need worry so much about me.” “Really?” he asked surprised. “Yes, really.” I smiled to him. “You should go and celebrate a bit. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” He leaned in and gave me a soft kiss onto my forehead. I closed my eyes, enjoyed his kiss and his warm hand between mine. Soon I quickly fell asleep again.

At the Academy 8: The Cost of Carelessness

Wed, 20 Mar 2013 00:00:00 +0000

continues from part 7

Part 8: The Cost of Carelessness

“Oh, good morning Roger.” Amy was rinsing out her coffee cup as Roger walked in to the kitchen, still in his pajamas. She was fully dressed and the dishes in the sink made it clear that both she and Ken had already been up, eaten, and cleaned up. “I was just about to leave you and Andrea a note. Now that the 24 hours is up, Ken and I figured we’d stick around in the suite for a little while just pretend like were having a normal day away from the Academy. We won’t have the chance to do much of that pretty soon.”

At the Academy 7: Decoration

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 00:00:00 +0000

continues from part 6

Part 7: Decoration

“Let’s go, Roger. I know you can move faster than that even with the hobble.”

Andrea tugged on the rope she’d attached around his waist. His hands were firmly cuffed behind his back, and the cuffs at his ankles had about a 2 foot chain between them.

“I can’t see and the chain from my wrists to the hobble occasionally makes things interesting.” He said, too much anger in his voice for someone who was naked, cuffed, blindfolded, and being forced to walk outside. The slight chill in the air had warned him about the last part before he could feel the grass under his feet.

At the Academy 6: Completely Surrounded

Sun, 17 Feb 2013 00:00:00 +0000

continues from part 5

Part 6: Completely Surrounded

Suspended in rubber, trapped in darkness, Roger really couldn’t judge time well. At one point he tried counting heartbeats and using a rough pulse count to estimate the amount of time, but the count got quite high and it created such monotony that it didn’t particularly help. So he gave up and tried to develop a strategy that would let him gain some freedom of movement.

At the Academy 5: Fierce Competition

Thu, 17 Jan 2013 00:00:00 +0000

continues from part 4

Part 5: Fierce Competition

Roger surveyed the hotel lobby from the mezzanine above. He knew what he was looking for, but needed to be sure that he didn’t appear to actually be looking. If his information was right, Amy and one of her partners in crime would be making their way across the lobby towards the West entrance at any moment now. He checked his watch, wondering if he had the timeline wrong in his head. As he did so, he allowed himself a moment to replay the events of the past week.

Site Canteen 2

Wed, 09 May 2012 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Site Canteen)

Part 2

I slept soundly during the night, or for a number of hours anyway, but at around 7am, I began to come back to the waking world thanks to the noises of the construction site around me. Despite being sealed in plastic and buried in the canteen waste, the beeping of the machines, and the sounds of the men talking came through. At first, I was disoriented and did not know where I was. Feeling the waste pressing around me, and the sheen of sweat on my skin, I began to panic, and tried to thrash around. This was a useless attempt, as the waste had me pinned under its wet weight, and trying to move was virtually useless.

Riding the Clam

Thu, 22 Sep 2011 00:00:00 +0000

There was a knock at the door. It opened a crack.

“You decent?”

Carly tucked her shirt into her jeans, pulled up the zip.

“Yeah!”

Xaviar stuck his head in the door.

“Hate to bother you on Friday night, but we had problems with 3. Had to do a bunch of reseals. Barely made our quota. Needs to be fixed by first shift Monday you know.”

“Not a problem.”

She’d started to say she had nothing to do anyway now that Ben had dumped her, but she bit her tongue.

Special Delivery

Sat, 06 Aug 2011 00:00:00 +0000

“Mmmm?”

Smiling, Deb turned toward the bed. “Well, hello there sleepyhead,” she said brightly. “Did anyone ever tell you that you look absolutely beautiful waking up?”

“Mmmm-mmm?”

“What? Oh, you mean this?” Still smiling, Deb reached down and softly stroked the tape covering the other woman’s mouth. “Well, dear, didn’t I tell you when you came over that we were going to have some fun? And now that you’re awake, the fun can begin.”

The Cabinet

Fri, 22 Jul 2011 00:00:00 +0000

In Memory of Diane, my soulmate, who sadly passed away after her fight with cancer and is sadly missed. I hope in leaving this legacy to your readers that they can appreciate how much fun we had in acting out these fantasies.

Authors Note: Just as a background whenever I was away on business Diane used to send me horny emails, often I would read these during meetings etc. As you can imagine it was quite distracting to say the least. I have made them into this series of stories called ‘Away on Business’. I bet you wished your girlfriend sent you horny emails like this when you were away on business!

WSL01

Fri, 01 Apr 2011 00:00:00 +0000

The first day …

“Anne? Have a minute?”

The dark haired woman looked over her the top of her glasses.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Well. I was checking the v4 mods and I found something funny.”

“Oh?”

“Ever hear of weasel 1?”

“Weasel?”

“WSL01. Here.” Lyssa stepped around the desk and set down a folder.

Damn!

“It looks like a driver for a subsystem, but it’s not in Change Control.”

“Well, if it’s not there, it’s not part of the system.”

Smart Duct Tape 3: Alternative edition

Sun, 02 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Officer Lacey was in trouble. The strange wrapping machine she’d brought home from evidence storage at the police station had gone rampant while she slept through the night, completely oblivious that it had turned rogue. She’d awoken to a house rigged with traps, and containing a crazed machine that, going by the duct-tape snares distributed throughout the place, was intent on capturing her. She’d left her bedroom, and headed downstairs this late morning on her day off, to be confronted by a bizarre scene in her living room, where she now stood. A washing machine blocking the exit to the hallway, and front door. Sneaky lines of fishing wire across rooms at ankle-level. Her home had been turned against her, and still hosted the machine responsible.

Smart Duct Tape 3: Alternative edition

Sun, 02 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from Machine part 2 by Jessica

My Plaster Box 3: Ornament

Mon, 04 Oct 2010 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part 2 Chapter 3: Ornament

I am now sitting in the frame, while the blow dryers continue to harden the new plaster that Heather has carefully spread over my body, to fill in any gaps in the plaster, filling the frame to its maximum capacity. She has gone off now, into the house probably to plunder something to use against me. I see the new plaster at the height of my nose covering my chest, and the entire frame is level to the top. Not only would this prevent me from escape, but it would also make getting me out an arduous task.

The Trip

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 00:00:00 +0000

I found the box simple and yet very alluring. It was a plain cardboard box, but not your average box; it was larger, triple corrugated cardboard, held together with industrial staples. I stared at it for some time before finally deciding to go thru with what I had been fantasizing about. I had moved all of my belongings into storage days ago, and now I am about to move out of my house, going to the east coast. The bulk of my personal belongings will go with my girlfriend, and I will fly there to join her later. At least that is what I told her yesterday. Yesterday I mailed a letter to our new address, telling her the truth.

A Situation that blows...

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 00:00:00 +0000

A slender young woman walks down the street heading for her appointment. As you would expect she gets her share of looks as the various men, and sometimes even women peek back at her black nylon clad legs coming from under her trenchcoat and ending in 6 inch heels. Her long midnight hair perfectly straight and sheen. You would probably think Maria was a model from looking at her. But no, she wasn’t. She was an average girl, with a regular life. Maria had a job as a secretary, an apartment, a boyfriend named Tom, and a rubber fetish you could only dream about. Ok, well perhaps its not all regular. She did have one problem, however. This was what she was going to this appointment to fix.

Retired from Active Bondage Part 2

Sun, 09 Mar 2008 00:00:00 +0000

This story is dedicated to all my friends in the forum, Who showed so much concern over what happened to me in part one, if your name is not mentioned here, Do not worry Its just due to the lack of editorial space allocated here to me by Gromet so please blame him. Continued from part one

Part Two

Jenny lost all account of time and had no idea as to how long she had been entombed in underground storage facility. The air that was constantly being pumped into her lungs containing all the necessary nutriments, and liquids in an air born vapour to sustain her.

Retired from Active Bondage

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 00:00:00 +0000

I think bondage can add spice to life, and a little fear can add even more spice, my boyfriend Len was well into bondage and even reached the stage where he would make bondage furniture for other people.

On occasion’s he would ask if I was willing to try a piece of his equipment out for him before he delivered it to a customer, it was Saturday and the phone went, it was Len, he asked if I was free to test a piece of gear for him, As I have nothing on I agreed.

Retired from Active Bondage

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 00:00:00 +0000

International Shipping

Fri, 09 Nov 2007 00:00:00 +0000

The planning was the most audacious shipping plan ever: to send a lovely, beautiful, bound slave packed overseas, to her new and anxious Master.

In order to assure the survival and the safety of the precious “cargo”, several procedures must be followed.

The container should be made of steel, in order to avoid its interior to be scanned by X-ray machines. The slave should be able to breath in the cargo bay of the aircraft. No movement at all should be allowed to the slave, and she should make no noise.

Sealed Inside

Fri, 09 Nov 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Vikki had known about Marks facesitting fetish for some time now and often carried out the standard sitting and smothering in the confines of the bedroom. It was on his 25th birthday that she decided to surprise him. They often joked in private conversation about Mark being sat on by the girls and women in the student accommodation. Vikki and Mark rented a 3-bed house in an all-girls school complex that was currently occupied by 4 girl students. This provided the ideal scenario for what Vikki wanted to do for Mark. Having a degree in biochemistry, she was not a dim girl and decided to modify a piece of furniture in her spare time.

My Day as a Mummy

Sun, 01 Apr 2007 00:00:00 +0000

I have been into self-bondage for more years that I wish to admit. I started as a child by wrapping ACE bandages around my cock and balls to masturbate. It was a wonderful experience. The tightness of the bandages made for very intense orgasms. I discovered early on that it felt even better if I shoved a candle up my bun hole.

As I got older, I discovered other things, too, such as my mother’s girdles. I suppose that was my first step towards mummification since it fitted so tightly about my waist. She used the panty girdle style, and they fit very snuggly in my crotch, which was also a good thing.

A Situation that blows...

Sat, 20 May 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Chastity's Final Program

Mon, 12 Dec 2005 00:00:00 +0000

It had been a long day.

Chastity McCullock settled into her usual seat on the train and settled in for the 15-minute ride home. Home sounded much better than Domicile 38s (single), level 5, block 3, dome 7, undersea habitation area 33. Whatever you called it, it was Chastity’s refuge from the world.

Chastity was a computer programmer, practically the only job remaining in this modern, computerized world. With practically the entire land area of the world covered by manufacturing and food production facilities, humanity had retreated into underground and underwater communities. There, they grew increasingly pampered by the swiftly evolving computers that could now provide nearly anything the human mind could conceive. Creating new programs for these computers was one of the few occupations that still required human participation.

Lydia and Me 14

Tue, 09 Aug 2005 00:00:00 +0000

story continues from part 13

Chapter 14 - What was that Tracking Number

At the very least, the chair was comfortable. Well, that, and I knew that I wasn’t about to be sold into slavery to some latex-loving dominatrix in Bermuda. Or Braintree, for that matter – I’d be unlikely to be lucky enough to land a prime tropical local with my luck. Other than that, I was beginning to phase out of “enjoyment” and into “annoyance” as I sat in the back room, bound in latex and waiting for my wife. Probably, the booze was starting to wear off a bit and the possible humiliation of being found this way by a stranger – OK, another stranger, Margaret had already fulfilled that part – was starting to gnaw at me.

Trapped by Eros

Sun, 05 Jun 2005 00:00:00 +0000

The following is a work of fiction involving adult themes. If you aren’t interested in bondage and erotica, please go elsewhere. I should also point out that I’ve never been to Eros boutique, I don’t know if they employ anyone name Margaret, and that I’m creating the descriptions that followed from whole cloth. This story was originally started for a contest they sponsored, but wasn’t completed in time for submission. I will happily remove the references to the store upon request.

Committed

Sat, 01 Jan 2005 00:00:00 +0000

He had been lying there for what seemed hours, completely mummified, from head to toe in white vet wrap, only his cock and nostrils sticking out. Experiencing almost total sensory deprivation and he loved it. He was gagged, his ears were plugged and padded and his eyes were padded. His arms locked together in front of him in an arm bar and then welded to his torso with more vet wrap. Occasionally, he could feel the pre-cum running down the outside of his cock with each involuntary pulse of pleasure.

Package Deal

Mon, 01 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000

“mmmmphh….mmmpphhh MMmmmmPHHH!!” Muffled grunts were all that came out as Carolyn feebly tried kicking at the lid of the crate that held her snugly in its confines. Even if her legs had not been buckled into the leather straps, the foam rubber which lined the inside of the box wrapped so tightly around her naked form that she would not of been able to get much leverage. Not that she would have much chance of breaking free she thought as she remembered the thick steel bands which braced the lid of the crate and the sturdy latches which sealed it shut. As she tried one more kick she heard a muffled CLICK and realized that Greg had locked her in. Now there was no escape until she got back to the warehouse.

The Shipping Crate

Thu, 10 Jul 2003 00:00:00 +0000

The following story contains true details and a few exaggerations. I leave it to you to figure out which parts are false and to fantasize about the true events. Drop me an email (rquean@hotmail.com) and let me know if you like my stories and if you want me to write more about my rubber adventures with my friends. In this adventure you’ll be introduced to the alter identities my friends and I use when we get dressed up in our rubber. Thanks, and may your rubber never rip and be forever tight!

The Shipping Crate

Thu, 10 Jul 2003 00:00:00 +0000

Entertaining Jenny

Sun, 16 Mar 2003 00:00:00 +0000

Dear Gromet, Here is my part of the joint venture with Jenny. Why not post it while we wait for her contribution.

Entertaining Jenny

Prologue

Jenny and I agreed to pursue a fantasy joint venture. First I would tell her what I would do if I had her in my power, and she would then have an opportunity to write a reply or “payback” story. At the moment Jenny is still working on her part and we hope to post it as soon as it is done, but for now here is my contribution:

The Party's Over

Wed, 26 Feb 2003 00:00:00 +0000

OK. So I can remember the party. My best friends’ 30th and it was huge. All in total I think there were about 100 people attending, most of whom I knew. It was open bar, live music, and in a hotel, so my level of intoxication was not to be an issue.

There were some new faces, one face I remember clearly (along with other of her attributes), a red head, about 5'5" and looking like a Victoria’s Secret model. She was dressed in tight blue jeans and a low cut top and seemed to be interested? Now, I am not the super stud, hunk of a man that would seem to be her type. I am about 6’, 200 lbs., and have that “boy next door” look, you know, the one who the parents always liked but she wanted something a little more “dangerous”. That’s not to say I don’t my dark side, the side that I apparently shared with this stranger, Aaron?. I think. Anyway, I remember talking to her at the bar and hitting it off. We talked for hours, or so it seemed. I know that we entered into some conversations relating to sex, and as I put down the beers, they became quite explicit. I shared with her my fascination with bondage, something that only an X would have known about me. She in turn shared some of her more risqué sex stories. She was obviously more versed than I in the subject and I found myself becoming aroused.

The Insemination

Tue, 10 Dec 2002 00:00:00 +0000

Hi Gromet one of your readers complained I never get inseminated and had I any plans in the future to allow a dastardly male to perform the sex act on me and allow my body to do what it was designed for and if I had trouble finding a male to complete the task he was willing to take a couple of hours off work to help out. Now I really appreciate the offer but at my age it would rather spoil the life style I have grown used to. And any way after the story “The Burglar” he would have to get in the queue as there seems there are a lot of Gromet readers out there are in front of him standing in the queue with their tongues hanging out. Story continues from Foaming Part 2

Foaming

Mon, 04 Nov 2002 00:00:00 +0000

Warning: Polystyrene foam expands in all directions once the chemical reaction is started. Once this reaction begins, it cannot be halted! Depending on the type it will expand from 5 to 10 times it’s starting volume. Simply put, a 1/4" layer of the liquid is going to become 1-1/4" to 2-1/2" of solid foam. If there is nowhere for the foam to expand outward (ie a plastic bag or something else that will give) it IS GOING TO EXPAND INWARD! (ie, against the person inside).

Foaming 2

Mon, 04 Nov 2002 00:00:00 +0000

continued from part one

The Machine: Model 2-A Part2

Fri, 01 Mar 2002 00:00:00 +0000

Authors Note: fg_1977@hotmail created a story based on ‘The Machine’ by NaughtyLittleGirl. This story is a continuation of fg_1977’s story: The Machine: Model-2A. -=O=- When we left off, Marie had been lent her bosses (Mr. Brackton) private Mansion up in Maine for the summer. It was quiet and peaceful there. While there she found a strange machine in the basement, and decided to try it out, and would up entombed for life, buried on the property somewhere, with absolutely no one knowing what happened to her.

The Machine: Model-2A

Wed, 16 Jan 2002 00:00:00 +0000

The Machine: Model-2A or Marie’s LONG STAY at the Boss’s Mansion

Prologue: I read the story of “The Machine” written by NaughtyLittleGirl here on this website about a girl name Sharon that got a huge mysterious package from a Master X. Which turns out to be a device called the X-FANTASY-VII which to her surprise when she tries it out is a specialized self-mummification computerized unit that puts a person in total mummification for the submissive and sealing inside a metal casket for a week unable to move or do anything. I figured that there should be some more stories of this X-FANTASY-VII Unit and I sure there would be people that would order special modifications for their usage or whatever. This is a story of one that I created based on the original story of “The Machine” .

The Machine

Fri, 18 May 2001 00:00:00 +0000

It had arrived by truck that morning. The delivery men had struggled to lift the crate off the truck and get it onto the moving trolley. After considerable effort they managed to move it into the space provided in the garage. After the movers had left, she looked at it and opened the attached envelope. It read:

“Dear new owner. Take care of me and I will do likewise. But do not open until one week after I have arrived. From Master X”