<?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>Hair on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/hair/</link><description>Recent content in Hair on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 11 Mar 2023 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/hair/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Entering Rubber Society Continued</title><link>/stories/2023/03/11/entering-rubber-society-continued/</link><pubDate>Sat, 11 Mar 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/03/11/entering-rubber-society-continued/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Katherine decided to go to her hairstylist in the center of the town, she wondered how far it would be as she was now at the outskirts of the town after the meeting with Emily earlier at the restaurant. A thought of taking a public cab came into her mind while walking with those red rubber heel-less ankle boots she wore. That thought is gone when she was hearing the noise of her boots against the pavement on the street, and she was didn&amp;rsquo;t realize that she was walking on her toe in the heel-less ankle boots this whole time because of the corset that make her hard to bend her waist and look at the lower of her body and she was enjoying her chit-chat with Emily, but she didn’t feel any pain after wearing it for about what? 1 hour? 2 hours? No, it was 6 hours since she wore it at her flat before going to the restaurant. Now that she realized that she was fine walking on her toe after that long, Katherine’s mind wondering how long she will survive by walking en pointe,&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Riding Lessons 2</title><link>/stories/2014/01/19/riding-lessons-2/</link><pubDate>Sun, 19 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/01/19/riding-lessons-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="ridinglessons.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I found the note on my tack box. It was certainly clear in its instruction, a shiver ran down my body as I re-read the text. I had a decision to make, would I follow the instructions or walk away. Although it seemed that simple this was the step into the unknown, two days ago I had been discovered, mid-self bondage session by my riding instructress Hilary. She had enlightened in me feelings I had never encountered, and to be honest I had never cum as powerfully. But I was confused, I was not gay, was I?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>