<?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>Intubate on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/intubate/</link><description>Recent content in Intubate 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/intubate/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>When You Come at the CEO</title><link>/stories/2025/04/13/when-you-come-at-the-ceo/</link><pubDate>Sun, 13 Apr 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/04/13/when-you-come-at-the-ceo/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I sat in the CEO&amp;rsquo;s office listening to him dissect my grand scheme to oust him and take over the company. It had almost worked, too, but he caught wind of it in time - he wouldn&amp;rsquo;t tell me how - and stopped it cold, retaining control and majority ownership.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When he was done, he asked me if I had any last words. &amp;ldquo;What are you going to do, shoot me? Not even you are that ruthless.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Leon City Stories</title><link>/stories/2025/03/16/leon-city-stories/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 Mar 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/03/16/leon-city-stories/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="28-bondage-solo-leveling"&gt;28: Bondage Solo Leveling&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Caitlyn packed her bag and threw in all sorts of training and bondage equipment in case she got bored on her training trip. To the right of it was a packed tent that would protect her from possible rain. Meanwhile, her mom Terra and dad Aaron were packing her food. After the initial shock of his wife&amp;rsquo;s sudden reappearance, he was now full of love for her again and had taken extra time off from his last business trip to spend some time with her and his children. Normally, Caitlyn would have been all for it, but after a few days she realized that she needed to practice. Practicing to become a better magician and to steel her body to do justice to the tasks of a police officer in Leon City.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Computer Controlled Asylum</title><link>/stories/2024/02/02/computer-controlled-asylum/</link><pubDate>Fri, 02 Feb 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/02/02/computer-controlled-asylum/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“I HAD FINALLY DONE IT!” I thought to myself. A few weeks ago, I hit the largest lottery ever. After hitting it I bought a large plot of land in the northern Rocky Mountains. I ordered a house built on the land and thanks to modern building technology, it was already completed. Sorry, I am getting ahead of myself. The year is 2104. After a series of technological leaps and the invention of practical space travel people were looking to the moon, Mars and IO for colonization, forgetting about the Earth. That’s how I was able to buy the land and get the house built so quickly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Reality Television Star Continued</title><link>/stories/2023/09/02/reality-television-star-continued/</link><pubDate>Sat, 02 Sep 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/09/02/reality-television-star-continued/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="chapter-3-kims-hard-goodbye"&gt;Chapter 3: Kim’s Hard Goodbye&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Amanda struggled to move, her nose-hooked and well-gagged and hooded face faced forward as she was forced to look with her eyes pried open as Kim, the ex-stripper, who was Elise’s last captive was again paraded in front of her unblinking eyes.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Well, Amanda…today is the day I get your new home ready for you. But first I must clean it up. As you can see the last occupant left a bit of a mess.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Battery Hens</title><link>/stories/2023/04/23/battery-hens/</link><pubDate>Sun, 23 Apr 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/04/23/battery-hens/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Chloe was a young animal rights activist with a penchant for bondage. She was appalled at how farm animals were kept and it was something that had driven her to be a vegan.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;She saw how for example battery hens were kept in confined cages their whole lives and how pigs and cows sometimes didn&amp;rsquo;t even have room to turn around in their cages. They were merely fed and their eggs collected or their milk taken or used for breeding. Then there were animals at places where they were on display at zoos.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Living Doll</title><link>/stories/2022/07/10/living-doll/</link><pubDate>Sun, 10 Jul 2022 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2022/07/10/living-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I stand in front of the coffee maker in a trance, waiting for it to produce the liquid energy I need so much this morning, my head still foggy from the late night I had shared with her. As I stand waiting for the dark brew to stop dripping into the cup, I hear the heels of the ballet boots I laced to her crotch two weeks ago clicking on the tile behind me. She is trying to sneak up on me, unaware of the noise her shoes make, mostly because she can’t hear very well with the ear plugs made into the thick rubber hood covering her head.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Shawna and Joyce - Weekend Burial</title><link>/stories/2021/12/04/shawna-and-joyce-weekend-burial/</link><pubDate>Sat, 04 Dec 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/12/04/shawna-and-joyce-weekend-burial/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="chapter-1-the-discovery"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: The Discovery&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Joyce and Shawna had been living at their new-England home for a few years. These old turn-of-the-century houses always seemed to hold architectural surprises, from the little tower room in the attic and now to the basement, where a recent restoration of the basement pantry had revealed an old sealed-off stone walled cellar room.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Entry into the secret room went through a short stone-arched walkway and a heavy cast-iron door, which was hidden behind some paneling and shelves in the pantry. Upon discovery, the ladies squealed with delight, realizing the potential of another playroom in the old house. The room was dirt floored and very grimy with cobwebs everywhere, but they set out to clean it out.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>YouTube Cat and Mouse</title><link>/stories/2021/07/26/youtube-cat-and-mouse/</link><pubDate>Mon, 26 Jul 2021 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2021/07/26/youtube-cat-and-mouse/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-1"&gt;Part 1&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Good evening, Cats and Mice. This Saturday, we will be meeting in the Ice Palace, but only Cat and Mouse subscribers with a blue pin. Since the end of last week, the Ice Palace has sold out, so there can be no at-the-door sales this time, sorry. We hardly get anyone coming not dressed as a cat or mouse, so please, do not come hoping that it might happen. All right, let&amp;rsquo;s start with preparing Mouse for the evening.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>What If They Did This?</title><link>/stories/2020/03/12/what-if-they-did-this/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Mar 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/03/12/what-if-they-did-this/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Japanese are a rather inventive people when it comes to game shows. The strange and odd things they come up with to challenge contestants is amazing and unique. There is one game show that a particular portion of it made the rounds on YouTube for a bit.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;For those who are not aware of it, the show was/is called&lt;/em&gt; ‘TORE!’ &lt;em&gt;and consists of two groups of contestants competing against each other. I don’t speak or read the Japanese language so I can’t tell you the exact nature of what was going on, but I certainly got the gist of it. Apparently they would get popular and notable people from TV shows or other popular media in Japan and have two groups who would compete against each other for points.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jasmine My Gorgeous Girl in a Bottle</title><link>/stories/2020/01/16/jasmine-my-gorgeous-girl-in-a-bottle/</link><pubDate>Thu, 16 Jan 2020 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2020/01/16/jasmine-my-gorgeous-girl-in-a-bottle/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Continues from &lt;a href="jasmingirlinabottle2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Kim has something on her mind and she really needs to talk to Greg about it so she phones him&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Hi Greg, how&amp;rsquo;s the girls?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Fine, is that Kim?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Yes.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Why don&amp;rsquo;t you come round, then you can see for yourself?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Okay I will I need to run something by you anyway.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Great, see you soon.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Greg gets changed out of his work clothes and puts a coffee sachet in the machine so it&amp;rsquo;s ready for Kim.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jasmin My Gorgeous Girl in a Bottle</title><link>/stories/2019/08/22/jasmin-my-gorgeous-girl-in-a-bottle/</link><pubDate>Thu, 22 Aug 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/08/22/jasmin-my-gorgeous-girl-in-a-bottle/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="jasmingirlinabottle.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Jeanette&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jeanette the boss of the liquid food company can’t wait any longer she has been thinking about Greg all day she really fancies him so she phones him with her mobile.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Hi Greg Jeanette here I can’t stop thinking about what you have done with your girlfriend and I was wondering if I might come over this evening to see her“&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Yes of course you can I will text you the address”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Marie's Commitment</title><link>/stories/2019/06/09/maries-commitment/</link><pubDate>Sun, 09 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/06/09/maries-commitment/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="chapter-1-awakenings"&gt;Chapter 1: Awakenings&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A faint sound began to become clearer as the fog from her mind began to dissipate. Initially it was distant but it began to gain sharpness and clarity. She blinked her eyes and was in a stupor, she fought to come to full consciousness as the medicated stupor, clinically referred to as Chemical Restraint, was slowly wearing off. “Can you hear me, Marie?” The therapist was working to awaken her latest patient, and was satisfied to see her eyes had began to blink.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jasmin My Gorgeous Girl in a Bottle</title><link>/stories/2019/05/20/jasmin-my-gorgeous-girl-in-a-bottle/</link><pubDate>Mon, 20 May 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/05/20/jasmin-my-gorgeous-girl-in-a-bottle/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jasmine and Greg have been going our for months and Greg had moved into her house full
time they are both very like minded and have a really good relationship.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“How was your day today Jasmine.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Really good I did a bit of shopping and visited a friend, so yes I had a very good day what about you.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Yes I had a good day as well it probably wasn&amp;rsquo;t as good as yours though just delivering stuff to rich people. Ok what rubbish have you bought today?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Trapping Rats</title><link>/stories/2018/12/20/trapping-rats/</link><pubDate>Thu, 20 Dec 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/12/20/trapping-rats/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="chapter-1"&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The apartment was perfect! It was a nice upgraded one bedroom place in an older neighborhood near the Concord BART (Bay Area Transit System) stop. It made for an easy commute into the city. She could enjoy the fun and excitement of San Francisco without the super high cost housing. In fact this place was a great deal, under $1,000, which was next to impossible to find in the local market.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Testing Assistant</title><link>/stories/2018/05/31/testing-assistant/</link><pubDate>Thu, 31 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/31/testing-assistant/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Josh looked at the help wanted ad again:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Seeking testing assistants.
No experience needed, we&amp;rsquo;ll train.
Uniforms, meals and housing provided.
Minimum 1 year commitment.
Apply in person at 4611 Industrial Way, New Ironton.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Then he looked at the stack of unpaid bills. And the eviction notice on top of them, with a sigh. His life had gone to hell since he got fired from his job at the supermarket, but it wasn&amp;rsquo;t all that great to start with. At least his car still ran. New Ironton was an hour&amp;rsquo;s drive away, but he figured that it was worth a try.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drastic Measures</title><link>/stories/2018/05/20/drastic-measures/</link><pubDate>Sun, 20 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/20/drastic-measures/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jerome would never forget the words that ended his life:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Congratulations, Donor 896. You’re still fertile.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;***&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Everyone had been so concerned about the Nork nukes. There was lots of saber rattling, lots of heated rhetoric, lots of back and forth accusations. The missile launches were almost anticlimactic. The lack of nuclear fire was almost expected. Everyone knew the Norks couldn’t have gotten a nuclear warhead on a missile. It was simply beyond them.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Penalty Box</title><link>/stories/2018/05/01/the-penalty-box/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/01/the-penalty-box/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt;
Alexandra applauded, almost giddy over the last minute goal, as the conquering hero skated in her direction. She stood up and waved from behind the plexiglass barricade that separated her front row seat from the action on the ice. Suddenly, Alexandra winced as number 23 leaned back sharply, sending a wave of ice crystals pelting against the clear shield in front of her. Looking around in embarrassment, Alexandra saw that most, if not all of the people in the sparsely populated stadium, had not noticed the blatant display of bravado. She turned back to the ice just in time to see the devilish grin that had melted her heart on so many occasions. But this time, Alexandra made a mental note of this incident, filling it away even as she went back to cheering for her boyfriend.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Stone Gardens Incarceration System</title><link>/stories/2018/04/26/stone-gardens-incarceration-system/</link><pubDate>Thu, 26 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/04/26/stone-gardens-incarceration-system/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Incarceration is a massive expense for any modern country that wishes to maintain justice, peace and order. The main goals of incarceration are to prevent recidivism, act as a deterrent to potential criminals and protect public safety.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In the case of lesser crimes for non repeat offenders these issues can often most effectively be dealt with using short term incarceration in facilities with high quality education and treatment programs. These programs ensure that inmates leave in good emotional and physical health. When followed by probation services that help with employment, housing and other issues recidivism is often only an insignificant issue.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Inflatable Prison Suit</title><link>/stories/2018/02/21/inflatable-prison-suit/</link><pubDate>Wed, 21 Feb 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/02/21/inflatable-prison-suit/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Claire was a journalist and reporter for a small local news paper. She was trying to get to a bigger news outlet and was using her amazing looks and sexy body to do that. She had become a honeypot reporter, using sex to get information and then turning that into a story. A story which had a massive impact on the person she wrote about. Normally the story was based on someone in power cheating on their wife or girlfriend. They lost everything more often than not. She always used a pen name when writing for the paper. So no one would know who she was. Or so she thought.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Below Slave</title><link>/stories/2018/02/01/below-slave/</link><pubDate>Thu, 01 Feb 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/02/01/below-slave/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Sarah had a weird hobby of extreme urban exploration and was looking for the most dangers and terrifying locations. She spend hours looking for places online and would travel the world in order to find them. She would always go by herself with her camera and touchpad. She had a youtube channel about the locations she went to and how terrifying they were. Plus it meant people could comment on the videos and tell her of other places. It was a private message like any other. Telling her about an abandoned train and railway depot in Oxfordshire. She was even sent some creepy looking pictures as she weighed up the idea of going. The cherry on the cake was the reason the depot was closed. It was the scene of a shocking accident in which a rail worker died. The scary stuff was a must for any of her videos.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Institutionalised 7: Knowing My Position</title><link>/stories/2018/02/01/institutionalised-7-knowing-my-position/</link><pubDate>Thu, 01 Feb 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/02/01/institutionalised-7-knowing-my-position/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="institutionalised6.html"&gt;part six&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 7: Knowing My Position&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;They returned a half hour later or maybe less, I had lost track of time, and without preamble they unhurriedly released me. My bum was still quite tender and my nipples and breasts tingled. And my inflamed clit was released and slid back behind its hood.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was returned to my room by Tyra, holding onto my elbow as I was still a bit wobbly in my hoof boots. She stayed and tenderly rubbed some cooling salve into my tender sphincter. It was a great comfort having her there. She said nothing during this, but I could tell that I had passed another “test” and she was pleased with my performance. That first time was a bit of a shock obviously, however after that the general discomfort lessened to the point that I hardly noticed it, as my anal muscle, and I, simply got used to it. It sounds like an odd thing to say, but there it is.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Balance Struck</title><link>/stories/2018/01/11/a-balance-struck/</link><pubDate>Thu, 11 Jan 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/01/11/a-balance-struck/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;You wake up as you feel the pleasant tingle of electricity stimulating your cock. You&amp;rsquo;re already hard as the stimulation slowly builds. Waves of electrical pleasure flow through your member as they grow stronger and faster.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You don&amp;rsquo;t try to fight it, because you can feel the tight leather holding you still. Your arms are held rigidly to your side and you can barely move them. Your legs are strapped down and you can&amp;rsquo;t thrust to increase the stimulation. You can&amp;rsquo;t even turn your head because it too is held perfectly still inside of the tight hood that surrounds it.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Rubber Isolation Prisoner IP-352</title><link>/stories/2018/01/05/rubber-isolation-prisoner-ip-352/</link><pubDate>Fri, 05 Jan 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/01/05/rubber-isolation-prisoner-ip-352/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1 – The Trial&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In the not too distant future the overcrowded prison system reached a tipping point. Many states released those incarcerated that were deemed as non-violent. The problem occurred when many of these criminals offended again. The violence that returned to the streets caused a demand for action. The criminals were running the cities! Honest citizens took to the streets and quietly called for action.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Something had to give. The growing crime problem with the revolving-door prison system that seemed to not rehabilitate the criminal element failed to keep the streets safe for law-abiding people. The cost to keep someone jailed was also causing major stress on the jurisdictions. It was Texas that came up with a solution.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Hard Stabling</title><link>/stories/2017/12/20/hard-stabling/</link><pubDate>Wed, 20 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/12/20/hard-stabling/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Author&amp;rsquo;s Note: An extreme, over the top little story. It shouldn&amp;rsquo;t be taken very seriously. Heavily inspired by LOL&amp;rsquo;s Houchie Shoujo.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The barn was beautiful in the late afternoon sun. Light poured down through the small cracks in the ceiling and the back wall, illuminating the dancing dust motes that flittered through the air. There was a soft, steady breeze blowing outside, which kept the tall grass surrounding the building perpetually ruffled. It also took the edge off the summer heat. This wasn&amp;rsquo;t the case inside the barn, partially because the wind couldn&amp;rsquo;t get in and partially because it was a heat trap. The insulation kept the humidity at a swelteringly high level, and the moisture in the air was mixed in with the scent of hay and wet soil. The man had been in the barn for less than a few minutes and he was already feeling overheated. He was wearing short pants and a thin t-shirt, which helped take the edge off, but it still felt like he was in a sauna.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Institutionalised 4: Adjusting To An Institutional Life</title><link>/stories/2017/10/18/institutionalised-4-adjusting-to-an-institutional-life/</link><pubDate>Wed, 18 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/10/18/institutionalised-4-adjusting-to-an-institutional-life/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="institutionalised3.html"&gt;part three&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4: Adjusting To An Institutional Life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The shock of losing my case, and being so thoroughly humiliated in front of the panel, and my sister, took its toll on me over the next few days, during which I fell into a terrible depression. I had expected all along that I would be successful and never imagined I would be incarcerated against my wishes, until Mann and his assistants had decided I was no longer a threat to them. The hint by Tyra that she thought she would have enough money in two or three years to quit was the only, very small consolation I could hang onto. But even then, three years here?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dummy</title><link>/stories/2017/09/23/dummy/</link><pubDate>Sat, 23 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/09/23/dummy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;One night, he who I call my lover came to me as I slept, and penetrated me with a needle of exquisite length. The shock of its entry brought me awake even as my lover&amp;rsquo;s drug begun its work. Helpless, I gazed through the darkness into the face of my fate. He spoke then, in the same, soft, tender voice I had heard so many nights before:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;You know that you can&amp;rsquo;t move, don&amp;rsquo;t you? Not so as a fingertip. Even now your breath becomes shallow, the rise and fall of your chest slighter; so slight it scarcely seems you live. But you do live, don&amp;rsquo;t you?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Long Dark Nights</title><link>/stories/2017/08/15/long-dark-nights/</link><pubDate>Tue, 15 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/08/15/long-dark-nights/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Charley had only just found out about the world of latex, after a friend bought her a pair of latex leggings. Since then she had been seeing how far down the rabbit hole she could go in a week. She had been meet with a tidal wave of kinky fetish nightmares and sickeningly prevented images. She had unlocked a deep lake of hidden fantasies and desires within herself. After searching the internet for days, she found something which left her heart racing and her soul horny. On a heavy rubber and bondage forum based in the UK was an advert looking for a woman to be a long term rubber bondage prisoner. Charley had message the owner of the post saying how much she wanted to do it. She got a message back within 48 hours with a list of instruction of what to do.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Case</title><link>/stories/2017/08/02/the-case/</link><pubDate>Wed, 02 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/08/02/the-case/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Mario stares at the steel lying on the table across from him and thinks “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad” then another thought flashes through his mind, “Are you crazy! She might never let you out of it!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mario’s only choice’s are to stare at the thing that torments him merely by existing or close his eyes and then all he could see was it with him inside. Mario moaned behind the leather hood the sound seeping around the huge ball she had stuffed into his mouth before lacing the hood as tight as she could. The thick leather arm sleeve was crushing his arms together, it too had been laced until she grunted with the effort, the d-ring at his hands tied to the cleat near the ceiling keeping his arms pulled up high behind his back forcing him to remain bent over. The angle she had left him in left the nipple clamps weighted chain dangling from his screaming nipples, each breath made him wince from the pain of his chest heaving over the corset she had laced mercilessly tight.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Terms of Service</title><link>/stories/2017/02/10/terms-of-service/</link><pubDate>Fri, 10 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/10/terms-of-service/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Happy 18th birthday baby.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Oh Mom, it’s beautiful.” Jessie said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“My little girl is all grown up, blow the candles out Honey.” Dad said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jessie closes her eyes and blows out the candles. Mom cuts the cake while Dad answers the front door. He returns with an official looking letter, his sad face speaks the words he can’t say.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Not today, it can’t come today.” Jessie said.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“They can’t even respect a girls birthday anymore?” Mom said.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Precious Marissa 2: Marissa's Story</title><link>/stories/2017/01/28/precious-marissa-2-marissas-story/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/01/28/precious-marissa-2-marissas-story/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2: Marissa&amp;rsquo;s Story&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Author’s Note:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This story, “Precious Marissa: Marissa” is penned as a stand-alone story and as a companion story for “&lt;a href="preciousmarissa.html"&gt;Precious Marissa&lt;/a&gt;”. As the original was written from Kevin’s point-of-view, this version relates the story from Marissa’s point-of-view. Having two stories tell the same tale but from separate sets of eyes may be a style I incorporate more if people let me know that the writing style is interesting. I know I write long stories and sometimes fill them with more background and detail than some of you readers prefer, but, I am too detail-oriented of an individual to fully pull away from my character development. I feel that this style will allow me to create stories which are complete on their own or can be enjoyed as a collective to fully grasp each character being their own protagonist. Only you, the reader, can let me know if you enjoy the style…so…please do. Thank you.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Piece of Art</title><link>/stories/2016/11/05/a-piece-of-art/</link><pubDate>Sat, 05 Nov 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/11/05/a-piece-of-art/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;They were sisters. They had to be sisters. That&amp;rsquo;s what she wanted. And she was used to getting exactly what she wanted. Money was never an issue. Her agents had been trucking them for a few months and when the time was right they made sure no one would search for them. The two sisters, 20 and 22 years old, were traveling to their aunt&amp;rsquo;s house in the countryside. Their car was found in a nearby lake, crashed. Car accident, drowned, no bodies found, was the official verdict after some financial &amp;ldquo;encouragement&amp;rdquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Precious Marissa</title><link>/stories/2016/08/24/precious-marissa/</link><pubDate>Wed, 24 Aug 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/08/24/precious-marissa/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Kevin and Marissa, only two-months shy of their first anniversary in the heavenly bliss of the shroud of matrimony, are as much in love as the day they repeated their vows. At least, Marissa was the last time Kevin seen her, two-days before waking this morning. Kevin figured Marissa was not all that happy at current and most assuredly questioning why she was in her current state. Kevin knew they would not be spending their first wedding anniversary together, Marissa, did not.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Just for Fun</title><link>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Aug 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My heart pounded in my ears almost as loud as the dirt pounding on the lid of the casket that was only inches above my face. I had asked for this, dreamed and fantasized about it for years, but I was quickly finding that my dreams and fantasies where a lot different than the hard cold reality of being buried alive.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I strained against the straps that held me down, but it was useless. The leather straps were very tight, very secure, and held me nearly motionless. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t been so determined to feel like a prisoner, a captive. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t insisted that I be strapped down so tightly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Just for Fun</title><link>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Aug 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/08/12/just-for-fun/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My heart pounded in my ears almost as loud as the dirt pounding on the lid of the casket that was only inches above my face. I had asked for this, dreamed and fantasized about it for years, but I was quickly finding that my dreams and fantasies where a lot different than the hard cold reality of being buried alive.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I strained against the straps that held me down, but it was useless. The leather straps were very tight, very secure, and held me nearly motionless. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t been so determined to feel like a prisoner, a captive. If only I hadn&amp;rsquo;t insisted that I be strapped down so tightly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Deserved Fate</title><link>/stories/2015/03/08/deserved-fate/</link><pubDate>Sun, 08 Mar 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/03/08/deserved-fate/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;What had I done to deserve this? What had I done?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I am a rubberist. I’ve been one as long as I can remember. I mean my first memory as a child was my sister’s heavy rubber-lined cotton pink rain coat. You know the ones if you can remember back to the mid-1950s. It had those brass-tone buckles… I think four of them… that you pushed the tongue through the female slot then flipped the thing closed. The collar was a stiff corduroy lined rubber. When the top buckled was closed the thing fitted tight to my neck. There was a matching pink rain hat… it was floppy and had a brim all around. I never wore the coat in the rain but I wore it in our apartment in Brooklyn. I felt a certain safety in its cool slick outer shell and the knowledge, even as a little boy, the material would shield me from all manner of evil things… well that was the fantasy I envisioned… total protection from all those bad things out there.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally</title><link>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I knew my father kept an old coffin at his house having used it regularly for a Halloween stunt when I was a teenager. Myself in a frock and shut inside the old thing as he and some mates wheeled it around the streets. ‘Rising from the dead’ and scaring the crap out of people, all in the name of charity mind and as a family we’d raised a fortune over the years.
Now with my mother gone and me having moved home to look after him it had become a chance to play a bit more. Bob didn’t mind and occasionally he took part. One memorable day he allowed me to wear one of mum’s dresses then locked me inside! I can safely say my heart was pounding!
So when I read a series of stories on Gromet about girls who liked dressing up and being shut in coffins I decided I wanted to do it again. Showing the site to dad…only to find he’d known about it for years! And Mum too…was a serious addict and so he told me a lot of what they’d done. “We played a lot more than I care to admit, but nice to see you’re not too sweet and innocent to understand!”
Talking to Bob one day over breakfast about this he grinned and said he’d made a few adjustments to it recently but would not elaborate, even when I nudged him. “You’ll find out soon enough young lady,” he said. I smiled inside but made sure he couldn’t read my thoughts. With today being my day off…it was gonna be playtime…
Once he’d gone to work I did all the housework and washing which took all morning, prepared the slow-cooker for our dinner tonight and so on. But after my lunch I realised that I couldn’t put it off…I HAD to see what those adjustments were. Hurrying into the basement I locked the door before approaching the coffin. Flipping the lid up I stared…and was amazed.
He’d certainly worked hard as I looked down, seeing the metalwork now installed at three places inside. One set of loops was for the ankles; the second would be for the waist with small wrist loops each side, while the last was obviously a collar to go round my neck. I was impressed, seeing they were padded, the same colour as the satin lining…and I wanted to try them out. A tug proved the loops were all locked and I groaned, as he must have known I’d come down so secured everything to stop me trying.
Turning away I was amazed…and delighted to see a bunch of keys hanging nearby from a hook! Surely these were not for…but a close examination proved that they were! Nervously I placed one in the collar and twisted…
Clunk!
A real solid sound and I shuddered as the collar lifted up, it was 3cm steel and gleamed almost like my eyes were probably doing. Pushing it down then turning that key hearing the clunk again. Soon the others were unlocked and to test myself a bit I leaned in and placed a wrist into the loop by the belt. Flipping the top across it gripped firmly, the leather padding cool but tight on my skin. Another clunk as I locked it and by now my breathing was shallowing!
I couldn’t wait and hurried upstairs to use the loo then get changed into something better than shorts and T-shirt. My wardrobe isn’t that ‘girlie’ as I work in an office where staid trouser-suits are the norm. It stops the truck drivers ogling my legs too, something I’ve hated forever and a day. But today was a ‘me’ day so dress it was, my favourite off-white number, calf length and lovely in silk, capped sleeves and everything. Cost me £200, and I have three of them, one is black but worth every cent, the 3-inch heels that go with them are nice if not comfortable for that long. Quickly I got dressed, being this naughty I was soon wearing stockings too. A slip inside then I zipped myself into the frock. Strapping the shoes on I was soon strutting downstairs and back to the basement.
The door was locked again, keys tossed onto the bench and I headed for the coffin. Carrying my penis gag and a blindfold too to heighten my bondage experience. While Bob of course knew of my bondage fetish I naturally had never let him tie me up, the coffin yes but no more. Donna however had loved it and my parents spent many an hour down here, so now I guess daughters inherit all good traits from their mothers!
Firstly I eased myself into the coffin, making sure the lid was folded right back onto the floor, settling my ass just below the belt and easing both ankles into their loops but not yet locking them as I tidied the folds of my dress. I could already feel wetness amidships and was glad I’d donned a second set of panties. 
Then I lay back and rested my head onto the satin cushion, seeing the thick steel loop sticking up to my right with the belt one visible as well because it’s longer. He’d measured this perfectly as my neck rested in the base of the collar. Slowly I reached down and lowered the belt, having to suck in a bit, as it wouldn’t quite meet the base. So to make sure I got the effect…I needed to lock it!
Getting out for a moment I pondered, whether to finally ask Bob to do it tonight or just have a self-bondage session now…and I could not stand the thought of having to wait another 3 hours for him to return!
Soon I was back inside and this time I locked my ankles into the loops. Sure that they felt tighter once I heard the clicks, guess my overwrought imagination… once I’d tidied my dress I lay back again, then realised the gag and blindfold were outside. Grumbling I reached over the edge and retrieved both, applying the gag and doing my hair once lying flat again. Now was a big moment as I eased the belt shut and locked it. The band was firmly pressing into me and I shuddered then reached for the collar. That too was secured and I was happy, then tried to lock my left wrist into the cuff, but couldn’t reach or see what I was doing. So I undid the loop around my neck and sat up.
Now I wanted to lock everything but of course would not be able to do both wrists…or could I? Spending a few moments blundering about and I sighed. So freed myself and went for another bathroom visit and drink while thinking about what lay beneath my feet.
But I just couldn’t stop and an hour late I was once more settling into the coffin and running through a checklist. 
Ankles locked.
Left wrist locked.
Belt locked.
Gag on.
Blindfold on.
So I reached up and secured the collar then removed the keys and having found the right tape marked one placed it into the lock above where my other wrist would go. Then I shuddered and laid my arm into the loop and by twisting my fingers was able to snap the metal over the top. It rested fine and I imagined the key turning…ohh lovely and I grinned behind the gag as my middle digit felt the edge over to…and TOUCHED the barrel of the key!
I’d forgotten where the key was in relation to the wristcuffs then remembered it was over to the side because the lock fed into the loop. So could it mean? And I paused…then did it. Rubbing my finger along it, pressing as hard as I could, feeling resistance…then it moved…
CLUNK!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally 3</title><link>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally-3/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Feb 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/02/05/subterranean-sally-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="subterraneansally2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One that I thought was going well over the next six months or so. Mary was becoming a frequent visitor to the house. In fact one day I’d arrived back from work expecting them to be home but Bob was alone. Querying this he seemed surprised then admitted she’d gone dress shopping. “Not for THAT type of dress love…,” he said quickly enough but I suspected an announcement might be sooner than later. 
Downstairs too was becoming interesting. Not just Dad and Mary, but Ms Harrison and myself! I’d surrendered my vibrator to her one morning, spending the rest of the next two hours regretting this. “Come on love, just one more for the sisterhood, surely you can take it…” she muttered as I hung there blown away by a series of explosive ones!
While she didn’t understand my coffin and the ideas behind it she didn’t mind if I played in it. The two of them locked me in one afternoon and I lay there listening as he took her circuit training, round the playroom rather than a gym. Over the next what seemed to me like hours he tickled, thrashed, more tickling then finally vibrated her to a climax! Her squealing woke me up from a snooze! 
Once I thought it long enough I quietly knocked on the lid (my wrists were not secured) and Bob released his girl. Me looking at a tired Mary wrapped in blankets and asleep on the bondage bed. We cuddled and I asked if I should free her. Bob cruelly shook his head no then carefully padlocked the cage shut with my assistance. Leaving her cellphone dangling off the bars. Upstairs much later on I received a call from a desperate lady who needed the loo!
They got engaged on Christmas Day, fifteen months after our USA trip. Bob having asked me first if I minded. Of course I didn’t, she loved us both now and I was in tears when he popped the question after a great dinner made by me and she’d said yes. “Least you’ll be able to remember that date,” I laughed and got hugs for that.
The wedding was planned for the summer but I was amazed when in March Bob announced he was selling his company and retiring. He’s only 55 I thought and was a little dismayed at that. “Oh, I thought you’d be happy that I’d be here. As you’ll be leaving too, we’re gonna have more than enough money for years to come, yes?”
I wasn’t however. My role might be small in the company but I’d earned it on merit and was proud of that. While being ‘the boss’ girl had helped there were some who’d thought otherwise but I proved to them that I was capable, now he was taking it away. Didn’t he understand that I wanted to earn my own money, also you easily get bored if playtime is all the time and we had a frosty talk that afternoon and he groaned when I got stroppy. “I’ll help Mary with her work as she wants me and Milly to model the restraints for the calendar, but I’m not leaving, OK?” He sighed and nodded then left me be.
My pigheadedness came back to haunt me. Within two months of him leaving I was forced out, devastated to have been told I was being demoted to secretary rather than the managerial position I occupied. The new owner regarded women in engineering companies as ‘tea-girls and typists’ so if I didn’t comply then tough luck. A long tearful chat with Mary and Bob that night was enough and my notice went in next morning. 
So now unemployed but after moping about getting in Bob’s way I decided to have a weekend in the coffin to do some thinking alone. He seemed quick to comply and helped set things up on the Friday, the drinks and stuff much tastier now I’d worked out how to get it right. Also teaching Mary how it worked. The lid went down and he screwed me closed. I half hoped he’d bury me but instead shifted the casket to one side and they didn’t use the basement at all. A nice quiet weekend followed and I was much happier when freedom came on the Sunday night. 
Mary moved in two months before the big day as she had offers for her place. A fat cheque landed in our accounts even after the eye-watering tax bill and she was quick to see I got a share. Grateful for that we went to for a little dinner to celebrate. Both of us looked great, me in my black dress, Mary in the midnight blue outfit worn the night we’d had in San Francisco. After the meal I bumped into a couple of former work colleagues and decided to allow the others to go home while I stayed out for an hour or so. “You behave yourself, young lady,” he grinned waggling a finger and Mary chuckled.
“Nearly thirty now, I can cope! Besides I’ve had my regulation two drinks, I’m only on the coffee now,” I grinned and waved them off, Margie and Katryn waiting patiently by the door. We went back in, sat down with a steaming jug of best Colombian brew and I caught up on news from ‘the coalface’ Marge saying it was bad there now, both women were thinking of quitting. “You got out just in time Sally love, we’re going to give it another month then I‘m out too. Kat will probably follow,” and I saw her nodding.
A tray of cocktails arrived twenty minutes later and I looked at the others, none of us had ordered and I was puzzled til the bartender said three guys in the corner had sent them across. We turned and saw my nemesis from the company and two of Bob’s engineers, one who’d left shortly before me, Maurice raising his pint glass in salute. “Guess it’s a ‘no-hard-feelings’ round,” I joked and the others grinned. We dithered as they were rather OTT for us, blue green and lastly an orange one with cherries and stuff jutting out on sticks. “Girlie drinks, for girlies I’ll bet they’re probably saying,” Kat joked and we all giggled. 
“Well, a shame to waste them…girlies…” I smiled so picked the green one, Marge went for blue leaving Kat, with orange. “Bottom’s up…” Katryn said then I daintily sipped mine, hoping it’d be some sort of mint flavouring. I rolled it over my tongue… 
“Oh bloody hell…” I wheezed, trying not to cough, “It’s foul, what the heck is it…?” and Marge stared at me having knocked half of hers back. “Water…quickly Sal…” she muttered and thankfully this place has iced jugs of the stuff on a central table. I came back and she grabbed a glass and put that back in one. “I’m gonna complain ‘bout these,” Katryn growled and I was nodding, water being drunk now as I tried to get the taste out of my mouth. 
Margie sat there staring at the remains of her drink and I thought she was shaking. “You alright Ma…?” I began and she shook her head. “No, I feel rubbish…” she muttered and I turned to look at Maurice’s gathering to see what their reaction was, only to see they’d gone! The bartender wiping down the table as he cleared the glasses. We needed help and I went across, not feeling that brilliant myself now as I reached him.
“Excuse me buddy,” I said, tapping his arm. “Those drinks you gave us that these guys bought, I think they’ve been spiked. My mates are in trouble,” and he turned to look in surprise. Seeing me standing there, looking peaky and his face fell as he peered over my shoulder at Marge who was leaning back, eyes closed with Kat coughing too. “OK missy, you go sit down, I’ll call for an ambulance, OK?” I nodded and thanked him, wobbling back to the corner, falling into my seat and I looked back to see him on the phone, waving off a customer who wanted serving. 
He came across with a bucket and towels, just in time as Margie grabbed it and threw up, thankfully straight into it. “Right, done the call love, they’re a bit busy so it’ll be as fast as poss, OK?” 
Well it wasn’t but at least he was serious and I thanked him, asking the guy to shoo off a couple of people watching us. He did so and they left, one saying women shouldn’t be drinking if they couldn’t handle it! I told him in no certain terms to clear off and a few people stared at me. Feeling shameful seeing Kat was crying, Margie slumped against the cushions and she really was shaking now. I was pleased to hear sirens getting closer and soon I was wincing as they were right outside, the lights flashing SO brightly.
Two guys thundered in, hi-viz jackets a welcome sight as their bags dropped onto the sofas and they began working on us, naturally Margie was first while an arriving police officer sat down and tried talking to me about what happened. I wasn’t really in the mood, my mouth was dry despite the water but I gradually told him. Naming the three guys but the copper said he didn’t believe me! “You girls just cannot handle your booze! I’ve seen it too often in this town.” Even the bartender got brushed off when he tried to confirm what I’d said was the truth. Raising his voice and the officer told him to back off. I was getting anxious now, tears not far away because of his attitude. 
“Think you better ring his station, get a real one here, not a guy on a power trip” I said to the barman who did his best not to grin. Only for officer idiot to reach over and jab a finger into my chest telling me to shut up. However it went further forward than he expected and it poked me on the nipple. “You dirty bastard!” I shouted, making more people turn and stare. I also swatted his hand away and he jumped to his feet while I staggered to mine.
“Right, you’re under arrest love…” he snapped, reaching for his cuffs and even the paramedics looked up from their work on Katryn and one protested, “she’s done nothing wrong, leave her be…” But before I could react he’d cuffed my left arm and was twisting it behind me. I squealed and he grinned then grabbed my other arm, slapping it in and securing them tight. Now I really screamed as he pushed me down onto the sofa, my head striking the side and I felt faint now as he stood there warning me not to struggle or else. Getting on his radio to try calling for reinforcements. 
The only help that arrived was for me. Several guys came over having realised what was happening, two of them grabbing the officer and wrestling him to the floor and now it really kicked off. Someone, an older lady even helped me sit down, my head pounding and I felt sick, but with the damn cuffs on could do nothing except cry and she wiped my eyes with a tissue, that bit of kindness probably stopping me freaking out. 
A hulking great guy found the handcuff keys in the struggling policeman’s uniform and freed me, saying he was actually a fellow officer, a Detective Inspector no less but from a different station and he’d sort this out. Showing the ambulanceman his warrant card and Jason, the kindly medic nodded to me. “It’s gen missy and thanks Sir, now lets get you treated love.”
My wrists had marks on from the cuffs and he fed me painkillers or something like that. Making me drink way too much liquid too and I desperately needed the loo. The lady who’d done my face took me there, turned out she was the D.I’s wife and we vanished into the disabled cubicle where I vomited explosively into the bowl. I didn’t realise that was the intention, to flush the drugs out of my system but she waited till my heaving stopped, turning round and I paused… “I’ll wait outside honey,” she chuckled and stepped away, closing the door allowing me privacy.
Emerging after a clean up, with empty bowels I grinned tiredly but was worried about what Bob and Mary would say when they found out. Mrs D.I helped me reaffix my slap then led me back to the bar. Most of the crowd had gone, so had Margie and Kat in the ambulance but I shuddered on seeing more policemen there, convinced they would arrest me again. But my helper’s husband was doing a sterling job, having witnessed the whole thing and soon I watched my second nemesis being cuffed and led away by others. 
I gave a statement then asked about getting a taxi home, only for Bob and Mary to come in moments later and they looked aghast. I burst into tears again, rushing into their arms and hugging both tightly to me. The D.I sat us down and assured me that no further action was being taken against me, but that it was unlikely that they’d be able to prove it was Maurice or his cohorts who’d drugged our drinks. Even the barman was appalled, he’d deposited the tray on their table, only to be called five minutes later and told to bring them to ours. “It HAD to be them, Sir,” he stormed and I nodded in agreement but just wanted to go home and forget about it.
Mary drove us back and I thanked them with hugs before fleeing in tears to my room. Bob later knocked on the door but I refused to open it and he said if I needed him I just had to ask. Right now I wanted to be alone and politely said so, blew a kiss then threw myself into bed.
That event really battered my self-confidence, way more than the demotion. I was convinced everyone had it in for me and panicked when asked to go to the shops. Mary did a magnificent job and after two weeks of ‘house arrest’ she coaxed me into town to pick up the dress I’d be wearing for their wedding. Not quite a bridemaids’ one but an outfit to do me justice. The smile I had on modelling it in the shop proved that maybe I was getting over it now. 
Not so when we got confirmation that the inquiries were being dropped and I began to worry again. Even Bob was starting to get concerned. They were due on honeymoon three days after the wedding, but if I couldn’t get a grip then they might have to cancel it. “Well how else can we get round it?” he sighed in the kitchen. I managed not to throw a strop and said I would consider staying in my coffin for that time til they returned.
Mary was amazed at the idea. “But it’s almost three weeks darling, surely your food and stuff would run out?” she said but I shook my head. “No, I’ve been tweaking the system for a long time, testing it for ages. It’s why I haven’t used it for a month while checking out ideas. I know it’ll be fine, trust me guys.”
They sent me outside to cut the lawn and discussed it and on return an hour later gave their consent. But suggested I Skype Milly first to ask her opinion. Mary knew I talked often with the Californian so that night I called her. Upset to discover Mil couldn’t get a visa to attend the wedding having been invited so commiserations were offered. We talked for ages and I said what I’d proposed. “Well if that’s your way of dealing with it Sal, and your folks okay it then I guess it’s a yes from me too. You’re a wacko love, just let me know when you ‘return’ OK?” I agreed, waved her goodbye and switched off. I went downstairs and looked at them. Mary knew and came across and hugged me. “OK honey, we’ll do it.” Bob nodding and I challenged him to make me safer than ever before. “Yes sweetheart, I’ll try to do that. I promise.”
The wedding was a quiet affair. Just them and me, two of my girlfriends and some of Bob and Mary’s closest acquaintances at the registry office. I managed not to sob as I handed the rings over, feeling nice in my new dress and heels. Once the event was done we had the reception at a local pub and soon they retired to the house, I went to a hotel with my friends to give them space and this time we managed not to get in any trouble!   
Since deciding to ‘go down’ for the time required I’d been asked not to go below stairs. Bob worked tirelessly alone doing heaven knows what. Mary and I went out frequently at his request sometimes all day and I’d love to know what he was up to. But a promise of ‘no peeking’ was to be obeyed or I’d have to stay up.
Now the day dawned and Mary helped me dress. And what an outfit too, not a real bridal gown but a formal silk one all the same. No train or veils but it looked stunning and I cried when she first showed it to me. “I read the stories love, it’s the best I could do…” she said and got buried in hugs. Make-up and hair followed then finest underwear was supplied and she allowed me to fit the tubes alone.
I was trembling as finally I was eased into the frock and it was drawn around me and zipped to my neck, lastly stepping into three-inch heels. Going to my dressing table I grabbed one of Donna’s favourite lockets from my jewellery box and slipped the necklace around. Dropping it inside the dress where it nestled into my cleavage. Mary took many photos then showed me them and I nearly wept again. “Don’t you dare smudge…” she joked, holding hands as I promised her I’d be alright. “I know darling, its going to be painful for us to be apart but I understand.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mothers Milk</title><link>/stories/2014/01/30/mothers-milk/</link><pubDate>Thu, 30 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/01/30/mothers-milk/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It had been a bad year for a number of reasons. There were water shortages due to global warming and now there were problems with milk production in the dairy industry due to viral infections causing the governing bodies to consider alternative methods of producing milk. The biggest problem facing the mothers of new babies was that cows milk was not being allowed for use because of the viral infections and the risk of transmission. The great majority of new mothers were being advised not to breast feed their babies due to the chemicals being passed on to the child through the mother from all of the food additives that were in use to promote growth. So there was the dilemma. What to feed the babies requiring real milk.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Part Of The Company</title><link>/stories/2013/12/30/part-of-the-company/</link><pubDate>Mon, 30 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/30/part-of-the-company/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“But you can’t just shut us down!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Patricia Lakemont glanced around her and shrugged. “Oh? And why is that?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Because,” Geoffrey Sutton replied slowly, “Sutton Cord &amp;amp; Cable has been here for nearly a hundred and fifty years now. Our cables have been used on nearly every bridge in the area.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Bridges,” Patricia pointed out, “that are steadily being replaced by newer models that don’t require cables.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Still,” Geoffrey argued, “that’s no reason to shut us down. We can retool for other work. Besides, we’re one of the largest employers in this town. Some very good workers will lose their only livelihood if you close this plant.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>ACRE</title><link>/stories/2013/11/19/acre/</link><pubDate>Tue, 19 Nov 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/11/19/acre/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Paul stared at the spec sheet in his hand, disbelief writ large on his face. The project was on the wrong side of insane, a fact that he communicated to his boss in no uncertain terms.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hiram Lofton, founder and owner of Apex Engineering Solutions, fixed his chief designer with a withering glare.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Paul, there are ten million good reasons why we’re going to take this commission. Ten percent of those reasons are yours if we can have a working prototype ready for demo in six months.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>An Afternoon with Amy Young</title><link>/stories/2013/10/31/an-afternoon-with-amy-young/</link><pubDate>Thu, 31 Oct 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/10/31/an-afternoon-with-amy-young/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Hi, I’m so glad you came over, it’s been so long.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;How have you been? You look great.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sit down in the front room. Do you want something to drink? I have this fabulous raspberry soda, it’s Italian, that’s what I’m having.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I’m working as an account rep at a local radio station, and yes, it’s as crazy as it sounds.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We have so much to catch up on; you’ll love this, it’s so refreshing.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ship's Log</title><link>/stories/2013/09/12/ships-log/</link><pubDate>Thu, 12 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/09/12/ships-log/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Captain’s log, March 3, 2278. Ship’s time, 1300 hours. We’ve just left Space Station L17, and it’s good to be back into space and out of those clothes. I can’t see how anyone can stand to have anything covering their bodies, but maybe I’ve been alone in space too long.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Slave is down in the hold, making sure our cargo is secure. Once done there, she’ll be working to repair a glitch that’s developed in the computer terminal in my quarters. For now, I have no choice but to make this entry sitting at the helm station. Once she’s finished with that, I’ll be settling her in here for the duration of the voyage, thanks to the new items I had installed during our overhaul.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Box</title><link>/stories/2013/09/05/the-box/</link><pubDate>Thu, 05 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/09/05/the-box/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;We had done about everything we could think of with Jane. After only 3 years, she had been modified and manipulated in every way imaginable. As I admired her rigid body, listening to her subtle whimpering beneath the inflated bladder stretching her jaws, I couldn&amp;rsquo;t help but feel sad that I wouldn&amp;rsquo;t have her to torture any longer. Three years ago, when she had written me with her interest in becoming the ultimate bondage toy, I hadn&amp;rsquo;t believed someone like her existed. But after many months of conversation, we finally met, and I realized that she was for real.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Jessica Display 3</title><link>/stories/2013/08/15/the-jessica-display-3/</link><pubDate>Thu, 15 Aug 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/08/15/the-jessica-display-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="jessicadisplay2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was soon thereafter boxed up in a stout oak crate by some disinterested workmen and moved to my new home, and of particular concern to me was the &amp;ldquo;property of Acme Chemicals&amp;rdquo; label painted on the crate. The location was a mystery to me except that it took hours to get there in my dark crate as I was bumped around, and the high frequency vibrations I felt led me to believe I was traveling in the hold of a cargo jet for some of the trip&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Jessica Display 2</title><link>/stories/2013/04/30/the-jessica-display-2/</link><pubDate>Tue, 30 Apr 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/04/30/the-jessica-display-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="jessicadisplay.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At the end of the show I was wiped out and just wanted to go home, but that obviously wasn&amp;rsquo;t an option. My monolith and I were brought out to the loading dock and onto the same truck that brought me to the show, and my nurses set the rotisserie to rotate slowly on the drive back to the plant. We again had to stop off for the night because our driver couldn&amp;rsquo;t drive the whole distance in a single day, and I assumed both my nurses again spent the night with the lucky driver.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Jessica Display</title><link>/stories/2013/03/24/the-jessica-display/</link><pubDate>Sun, 24 Mar 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/03/24/the-jessica-display/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I could hear the mummer of hundreds of people near Marcus chemicals trade show display just on the other side of the partitions, and even though I was more deeply involved in it this year than I had intended, I couldn&amp;rsquo;t hide the excitement I felt knowing all of them, including our competitors, would be seeing me before the show ended&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My name is Jessica and I have been employed with Marcus chemicals for seven years, first having worked in the front office as a charming receptionist, and then in the back office to learn sales and finance from the company owner Jim Marcus. Jim had plans for me, not that the hansom fifty year old wanted to share my bed or anything like that, it was just that he noticed I had a desire to achieve and could do well in the male dominated chemical business with my &amp;ldquo;natural sex appeal&amp;rdquo;. I was the only woman employed at Marcus, besides the front office receptionist that took my place when I got promoted, and as a result I felt very comfortable around all the guys, and they were apparently just as comfortable around me. I would enter the chemical batch plant often to see for myself how things worked, partially to be more knowledgeable than my male counterparts with our customers, and also just for fun to taunt the guys with sexual innuendo that would have earned all of us counseling at any other company.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cold Turkey</title><link>/stories/2013/01/12/cold-turkey/</link><pubDate>Sat, 12 Jan 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/01/12/cold-turkey/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1 – A Decision Made&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I don’t see that we have any other option.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“No, me neither. She’s just out of control. Look, ever since her dad, well my dad died, she’s gone off the rails. A street kid, can you believe it, and she’s not even a kid she’s 19 and she’s wasted a year of her life already. And the vice cops now say she’s on heroin, god, what a mess. This is the only way we can get her back, Al.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Priorities</title><link>/stories/2012/12/23/priorities/</link><pubDate>Sun, 23 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/23/priorities/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Melissa Washington staggered down the hall, stunned. She could feel blood trickling down from her forehead, feel more trickling down her right leg. Shaking her head in a vain attempt to clear blurred vision, she asked herself what had just happened.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was supposed to be a routine inspection tour of her newest hospital. Well, not exactly new, just new to her. Apparently, all of the facilities of her newest purchase were old, worn, and badly in need of repair. Including, it seemed, the boiler.
She had just turned away from the boiler room, her mind already working on ways she could upgrade things here with a minimum of expense, when a sound made her turn. She saw a flash, and the next thing she knew, she was staggering along the hall.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Drink to Success</title><link>/stories/2012/12/16/drink-to-success/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/16/drink-to-success/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Well I did it again. I have been reading lots of stories in Gromets Plaza and came to one and thought I have some thorny vines so let&amp;rsquo;s see what we can do.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The girl in the story tied her ankles and attached a winch to them to drag her through the vines. I looked at the vines here and thought &amp;quot; If I tie my winch to my ankles they would drag me through them like they did her but these vines wouldn&amp;rsquo;t scratch me they would dig in and pull chunks out and thats not what I think would be fun in any way&amp;quot;.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Mummy Speaks</title><link>/stories/2012/12/14/the-mummy-speaks/</link><pubDate>Fri, 14 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/14/the-mummy-speaks/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was one hell of an experience being mummified for three and a half days.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The only reason I survived it was because Techie did a great of planning for my mummification and along a registered nurse monitored my condition. The catheter kept my bladder drained and the hollow butt plug allowed my (semi) solid waste (to keep from building up). My 6 times daily feeding kept my strength up and balanced my fluid intake.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sealed, Constrained, Recycled 16: Descent into Torment</title><link>/stories/2012/12/13/sealed-constrained-recycled-16-descent-into-torment/</link><pubDate>Thu, 13 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/13/sealed-constrained-recycled-16-descent-into-torment/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="sealedconstrainedrecycled15.html"&gt;chapter 15&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 16: Descent into Torment&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In the morning after a good night’s sleep between latex sheets within his cell the slave reported to the Mistress after showing obsequence to her by kneeing and placing his helmeted head on her rubber booted foot.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Mistress, the subject is progressing well, in the last 24 hours there has been little physical activity apart from that expected from the input of the programme and his response to it. It would seem that he is now deeply confused and has lost track of both time and where he is. The earlier struggles noted already on the trace where the subject fought against his containment have passed, as have any contact with the reality of his situation. The auditory input has been gradually increased over the time he has been within the inflatable body bag to the point where it is now almost constant; both when he is asleep and conscious. It is clear that he now has accepted the messages contained within the programme believing that they are his own thoughts. In 6 hours he can be moved to the floatation tank and the second part of the programme begun.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sealed, Constrained, Recycled 17: The New Regime</title><link>/stories/2012/12/13/sealed-constrained-recycled-17-the-new-regime/</link><pubDate>Thu, 13 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/13/sealed-constrained-recycled-17-the-new-regime/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="sealedconstrainedrecycled16.html"&gt;chapter 16&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 17: The New Regime&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Right slave I believe it’s time to release my slave”. This was not a question rather a rhetorical statement. The slave fearful of any perceived challenge from him acquiesced to the statement and deferentially replied,” Of course Mistress, at once”.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“We shall need to sedate my slave before releasing him. Then we can load him onto the trolley and return him to his cell where he can gradually come to. Your Master has told me that my slave will have no recall as to what has happened to him over the last 11 days; they will just not exist in his conscious mind, the conditioning will be total; he will be a completely re-educated slave.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sealed, Constrained, Recycled 15: The Dreaded Tube</title><link>/stories/2012/12/02/sealed-constrained-recycled-15-the-dreaded-tube/</link><pubDate>Sun, 02 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/12/02/sealed-constrained-recycled-15-the-dreaded-tube/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="sealedconstrainedrecycled14.html"&gt;chapter 14&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 15: The Dreaded Tube&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Floatation chamber arrived the following morning along with the slave who would be responsible for the installation, maintenance and running of the complex computer programme. He would also be giving the Mistress full debrief each period as to the computer programme and how the slave undergoing the full programme was faring. She was, for her part, looking forward to the experience of continuing the training of this slave and hoping to receive on the job training. She would otherwise be somewhat at a loss having no slave to train.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Lonely Girl Mummified</title><link>/stories/2011/11/13/lonely-girl-mummified/</link><pubDate>Sun, 13 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/11/13/lonely-girl-mummified/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://strangehobbies.deviantart.com/"&gt;http://strangehobbies.deviantart.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 1&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;That day, I woke up utterly unable to move. Except for my breathing everything was completely silent and I could not see a thing. The last event I could recall was going out to the movies on my own to watch a mediocre film. I could not even remember how it ended. Maybe I&amp;rsquo;d fallen asleep before the end. The trouble was, I had absolutely no memory of what might have happened afterwards.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Charles</title><link>/stories/2009/07/28/charles/</link><pubDate>Tue, 28 Jul 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/07/28/charles/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Just a latte today please.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;With a nod the waitress departed leaving Charles to contemplate his cocoa skinned prey. Today was the day; the culmination of several weeks observation driven by a desire to add an athletic black woman of Caribbean heritage to his collection.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Veterinary school had taught him nothing of philosophy, but strangely he found a kinship with the existentialists in his work with animals, so the hunt had been a pleasure.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Plastered</title><link>/stories/2009/02/10/plastered/</link><pubDate>Tue, 10 Feb 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/02/10/plastered/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“I am going to make a cast of your feet,” Amanda said out of nowhere. Ryan was used to these sudden mad plans of his girlfriend, but this one caught him by surprise.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Why?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“It will be fun and what&amp;rsquo;s more, I like your feet. You’ve got nice feet.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Even though they had only been together for two months, Ryan knew better than to protest. Amanda’s moods could be unpredictable and it was usually easier to give in than to start an argument. And besides, Amanda’ strange plans usually turned out to be pretty entertaining. “Okay, if you want to, I am game. How are you going to do it?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Mary's Mummy</title><link>/stories/2008/10/31/marys-mummy/</link><pubDate>Fri, 31 Oct 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/10/31/marys-mummy/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A Halloween Special 2008 Tale&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chet and Penny were hiding behind the door to the back work area. The lights were out and Chet had a syringe in his hand.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Penny whispered, “Are you sure that stuff is safe?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chet look at the syringe. “Yea it will keep her out for about 3hrs. She will wake up with a headache.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“I still don’t know if we should do it this way.” Penny mumbled, “Are you sure.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Box</title><link>/stories/2007/11/12/the-box/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Nov 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/11/12/the-box/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;We had done about everything we could think of with Jane. After only 3 years, she had been modified and manipulated in every way imaginable. As I admired her rigid body, listening to her subtle whimpering beneath the inflated bladder stretching her jaws, I couldn&amp;rsquo;t help but feel sad that I wouldn&amp;rsquo;t have her to torture any longer. Three years ago, when she had written me with her interest in becoming the ultimate bondage toy, I hadn&amp;rsquo;t believed someone like her existed. But after many months of conversation, we finally met, and I realized that she was for real. Only 19 years old when she arrived, she was impressive. Only 5'6&amp;quot;, she already had massive breasts, measuring a delightful 38D. On such a small frame, they stood out dramatically. She was rather proud of them, wearing a tight t-shirt on our first meeting, with hip hugger shorts and a bare stomach. I was still certain she would back out at the last minute, but she eagerly signed the contract giving her life to me, then drinking the potion I had set out. Within seconds she was asleep.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Bunch of Sluts!</title><link>/stories/2006/11/05/a-bunch-of-sluts/</link><pubDate>Sun, 05 Nov 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/11/05/a-bunch-of-sluts/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;God knows how long it has been. I have lost track of all time. I am completely immobilised and unable to speak. All I can see is the lights of this now closed hospital ward. To save money, the hospital heads decided to close this ward down for about three months. I have to stay here for that time at the mercy of these cruel wicked women.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It started six months ago at a party. I got drunk as usual and got louder and louder. Some girls came up and told me I was spoiling the party for them. I told them to shut up as I was enjoying myself. They went on and on. Eventually I shouted at them for being a bunch of whining sluts.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Happy Halloween</title><link>/stories/2006/05/02/happy-halloween/</link><pubDate>Tue, 02 May 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/05/02/happy-halloween/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Introduction&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was late evening on a Friday night when I finally made
it to the bar. Nothing fancy, just
a plain old sports bar stumbling distance from my house.
The place was pretty crowded save for one empty seat at the bar.
Obviously my day was about to get better as I sat down next to a
gorgeous brunette with a stunning body. Perfectly
proportioned, fantastic face, lovely long legs, nice breasts, a little small
but nice, late twenties, early thirties maybe.
She must have also been getting off work as she was still wearing
nylons a medium length skirt and a fairly conservative blouse.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Vow</title><link>/stories/2003/10/06/the-vow/</link><pubDate>Mon, 06 Oct 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/10/06/the-vow/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Tina Knight soon to be Tina Williams again walked of the plane with
Roger soon to be ex husband. The warm tropical breeze of the island did
not do little to lighten her mood. She strode across the tarmac of the
airfield to the reception bus. Roger when to pick up his bag and her but
she slapped his hand away. Roger retracted his hand like it had been bitten.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>It all went well</title><link>/stories/2002/05/22/it-all-went-well/</link><pubDate>Wed, 22 May 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/05/22/it-all-went-well/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I now knew my way around the airport, at the other side of the customs
barrier was Dawn, Toran&amp;rsquo;s personal driver who he had sent to pick me up,
she asked about my trip and lead me to the car and we were soon speeding
out of the airport complex heading towards Toran&amp;rsquo;s ranch.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At the Ranch I was greeted by Toran he swept me off my feet, it felt
good being picked up and held to his powerful arms and almost smothered
by a long lingering kiss, soon we were settled in the main house eating
a light snack. Toran asked me to come and see his latest mummy project
he had built in one of his outbuildings. We finished the drinks and made
our way out to the out-building, this was his pride and jo,y he&amp;rsquo;d had workmen
working round the clock to finish the project before I arrived, we had
discussed what was needed on my last trip. Toran had met me over the net
and our affair had blossomed from there. He was a fairly wealthy man and
enjoyed helping my fantasy&amp;rsquo;s come to life, he really had taken to my love
of mummification and promised me this time would be the best ever.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Jar</title><link>/stories/2002/02/21/the-jar/</link><pubDate>Thu, 21 Feb 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/02/21/the-jar/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The story below is pure fiction I stumbled across a site called
&lt;a href="https://www.rotten.com"&gt;www.rotten.com&lt;/a&gt; then I went to links and found a site called Bonsai
Kitten do not go there if you are an animal lover it will upset you!
But reading the articles there it gave me an idea for the story below
I do hope you sleep well after reading it! And all the fella&amp;rsquo;s out there
do not try to cram your girl into a jam jar, And all you girls out there
if your fella turns up with a large Jar Run!!!!! Also my dear
friend John I want to thank him for daring me to use his name in this story.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Jar</title><link>/stories/2002/02/21/the-jar/</link><pubDate>Thu, 21 Feb 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/02/21/the-jar/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The story below is pure fiction I stumbled across a site called
&lt;a href="https://www.rotten.com"&gt;www.rotten.com&lt;/a&gt; then I went to links and found a site called Bonsai
Kitten do not go there if you are an animal lover it will upset you!
But reading the articles there it gave me an idea for the story below
I do hope you sleep well after reading it! And all the fella&amp;rsquo;s out there
do not try to cram your girl into a jam jar, And all you girls out here
if your fella turns up with a large Jar Run!!!!!, Also my dear
friend John I want to thank him for daring me to use his name in this story.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Human Pet 3</title><link>/stories/2001/12/27/human-pet-3/</link><pubDate>Thu, 27 Dec 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2001/12/27/human-pet-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="human_pet2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Human Pet 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1: I, Robot&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Devon had to go into town for basic supplies. He came back to find Cindy
in the French maid outfit and the ballet boots trying to catch up on some
long neglected housework. It was a challenge for her to move much less
clean. She always was holding on to a broom or vacuum cleaner for additional
balance. To make her house work more difficult. Devon added ankle weights
and zipped tied them on. Cindy was in torment the entire day but her legs
never looked better.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Holiday to Remember</title><link>/stories/2001/05/18/holiday-to-remember/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 May 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2001/05/18/holiday-to-remember/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;As we all know the home of the mummy is Egypt so a trip to see the
mummies in the Cairo Museum is the dream of most people who are into Mummification,
While visiting if you where offered the chance to become a mummy would
you considerate an opportunity to turn your dream into reality, Or could
your dream become a nightmare.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a Trip of a lifetime. A visit to Egypt, it had always been a
dream of mine. I was travailing by myself, today I was visiting the Cairo
Museum. The bus pulled up in the coach park, I walked from there to the
main entrance of the Museum I paid the entrance fee and walked in to another
world. It was an unbelievable sight the giant statues stared down at me,
I turned to the right and made my way to the Tutankhamen room. Tutankhamens
gold mask stood in the centre of the room were ever I walked the eyes seemed
to follow me, I now made my way to the section of the museum that held
the Mummies.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>"Warm Storage"</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/warm-storage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/warm-storage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Laura’s eyes blinked open. Her vision was blurry, but then there wasn’t much to see on the grey ceiling above her. Her instincts told her to sit up, but she quickly found that she couldn’t. After pondering for a moment, she began checking her body and its degrees of freedom. Her head and neck were free but her back seemed held to something between her shoulder blades.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Her arms were free, though she noticed a pair of tightly fitted wrist cuffs, one on each wrist. Approximately 3 inches long, seamless, and appearing to be made of some polished metal, each cuff stuck to her wrist almost as if mounted to her wrist bones, though they were not connected to anything but her body. She noted, with her improving vision, a small blue LED blinking on the underside of each. Lifting and straightening her legs she found similar devices at her ankles.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Betrayal Part 1: First Betrayal</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-part-1-first-betrayal/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/betrayal-part-1-first-betrayal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;
Chapter One: First Betrayal&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was September 1986 when I arrived in Australia.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was early morning, and after a gruelling redeye flight we finally arrived at Lucas&amp;rsquo; apartment in Sydney. I was exhausted, and over excited about arriving in a new and mysterious country. Before we collapsed into bed Lucas asked me for my passport so that he could put it in a safe place with all our other documents. He took it away with all our bags. I never thought about it at the time. How could I have been so stupid?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I knew my father kept an old coffin at his house having used it regularly for a Halloween stunt when I was a teenager. Myself in a frock and shut inside the old thing as he and some mates wheeled it around the streets. ‘Rising from the dead’ and scaring the crap out of people, all in the name of charity mind and as a family we’d raised a fortune over the years.
Now with my mother gone and me having moved home to look after him it had become a chance to play a bit more. Bob didn’t mind and occasionally he took part. One memorable day he allowed me to wear one of mum’s dresses then locked me inside! I can safely say my heart was pounding!
So when I read a series of stories on Gromet about girls who liked dressing up and being shut in coffins I decided I wanted to do it again. Showing the site to dad…only to find he’d known about it for years! And Mum too…was a serious addict and so he told me a lot of what they’d done. “We played a lot more than I care to admit, but nice to see you’re not too sweet and innocent to understand!”
Talking to Bob one day over breakfast about this he grinned and said he’d made a few adjustments to it recently but would not elaborate, even when I nudged him. “You’ll find out soon enough young lady,” he said. I smiled inside but made sure he couldn’t read my thoughts. With today being my day off…it was gonna be playtime…
Once he’d gone to work I did all the housework and washing which took all morning, prepared the slow-cooker for our dinner tonight and so on. But after my lunch I realised that I couldn’t put it off…I HAD to see what those adjustments were. Hurrying into the basement I locked the door before approaching the coffin. Flipping the lid up I stared…and was amazed.
He’d certainly worked hard as I looked down, seeing the metalwork now installed at three places inside. One set of loops was for the ankles; the second would be for the waist with small wrist loops each side, while the last was obviously a collar to go round my neck. I was impressed, seeing they were padded, the same colour as the satin lining…and I wanted to try them out. A tug proved the loops were all locked and I groaned, as he must have known I’d come down so secured everything to stop me trying.
Turning away I was amazed…and delighted to see a bunch of keys hanging nearby from a hook! Surely these were not for…but a close examination proved that they were! Nervously I placed one in the collar and twisted…
Clunk!
A real solid sound and I shuddered as the collar lifted up, it was 3cm steel and gleamed almost like my eyes were probably doing. Pushing it down then turning that key hearing the clunk again. Soon the others were unlocked and to test myself a bit I leaned in and placed a wrist into the loop by the belt. Flipping the top across it gripped firmly, the leather padding cool but tight on my skin. Another clunk as I locked it and by now my breathing was shallowing!
I couldn’t wait and hurried upstairs to use the loo then get changed into something better than shorts and T-shirt. My wardrobe isn’t that ‘girlie’ as I work in an office where staid trouser-suits are the norm. It stops the truck drivers ogling my legs too, something I’ve hated forever and a day. But today was a ‘me’ day so dress it was, my favourite off-white number, calf length and lovely in silk, capped sleeves and everything. Cost me £200, and I have three of them, one is black but worth every cent, the 3-inch heels that go with them are nice if not comfortable for that long. Quickly I got dressed, being this naughty I was soon wearing stockings too. A slip inside then I zipped myself into the frock. Strapping the shoes on I was soon strutting downstairs and back to the basement.
The door was locked again, keys tossed onto the bench and I headed for the coffin. Carrying my penis gag and a blindfold too to heighten my bondage experience. While Bob of course knew of my bondage fetish I naturally had never let him tie me up, the coffin yes but no more. Donna however had loved it and my parents spent many an hour down here, so now I guess daughters inherit all good traits from their mothers!
Firstly I eased myself into the coffin, making sure the lid was folded right back onto the floor, settling my ass just below the belt and easing both ankles into their loops but not yet locking them as I tidied the folds of my dress. I could already feel wetness amidships and was glad I’d donned a second set of panties. 
Then I lay back and rested my head onto the satin cushion, seeing the thick steel loop sticking up to my right with the belt one visible as well because it’s longer. He’d measured this perfectly as my neck rested in the base of the collar. Slowly I reached down and lowered the belt, having to suck in a bit, as it wouldn’t quite meet the base. So to make sure I got the effect…I needed to lock it!
Getting out for a moment I pondered, whether to finally ask Bob to do it tonight or just have a self-bondage session now…and I could not stand the thought of having to wait another 3 hours for him to return!
Soon I was back inside and this time I locked my ankles into the loops. Sure that they felt tighter once I heard the clicks, guess my overwrought imagination… once I’d tidied my dress I lay back again, then realised the gag and blindfold were outside. Grumbling I reached over the edge and retrieved both, applying the gag and doing my hair once lying flat again. Now was a big moment as I eased the belt shut and locked it. The band was firmly pressing into me and I shuddered then reached for the collar. That too was secured and I was happy, then tried to lock my left wrist into the cuff, but couldn’t reach or see what I was doing. So I undid the loop around my neck and sat up.
Now I wanted to lock everything but of course would not be able to do both wrists…or could I? Spending a few moments blundering about and I sighed. So freed myself and went for another bathroom visit and drink while thinking about what lay beneath my feet.
But I just couldn’t stop and an hour late I was once more settling into the coffin and running through a checklist. 
Ankles locked.
Left wrist locked.
Belt locked.
Gag on.
Blindfold on.
So I reached up and secured the collar then removed the keys and having found the right tape marked one placed it into the lock above where my other wrist would go. Then I shuddered and laid my arm into the loop and by twisting my fingers was able to snap the metal over the top. It rested fine and I imagined the key turning…ohh lovely and I grinned behind the gag as my middle digit felt the edge over to…and TOUCHED the barrel of the key!
I’d forgotten where the key was in relation to the wristcuffs then remembered it was over to the side because the lock fed into the loop. So could it mean? And I paused…then did it. Rubbing my finger along it, pressing as hard as I could, feeling resistance…then it moved…
CLUNK!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Subterranean Sally 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/subterranean-sally-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="subterraneansally2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Subterranean Sally&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;One that I thought was going well over the next six months or so. Mary was becoming a frequent visitor to the house. In fact one day I’d arrived back from work expecting them to be home but Bob was alone. Querying this he seemed surprised then admitted she’d gone dress shopping. “Not for THAT type of dress love…,” he said quickly enough but I suspected an announcement might be sooner than later. 
Downstairs too was becoming interesting. Not just Dad and Mary, but Ms Harrison and myself! I’d surrendered my vibrator to her one morning, spending the rest of the next two hours regretting this. “Come on love, just one more for the sisterhood, surely you can take it…” she muttered as I hung there blown away by a series of explosive ones!
While she didn’t understand my coffin and the ideas behind it she didn’t mind if I played in it. The two of them locked me in one afternoon and I lay there listening as he took her circuit training, round the playroom rather than a gym. Over the next what seemed to me like hours he tickled, thrashed, more tickling then finally vibrated her to a climax! Her squealing woke me up from a snooze! 
Once I thought it long enough I quietly knocked on the lid (my wrists were not secured) and Bob released his girl. Me looking at a tired Mary wrapped in blankets and asleep on the bondage bed. We cuddled and I asked if I should free her. Bob cruelly shook his head no then carefully padlocked the cage shut with my assistance. Leaving her cellphone dangling off the bars. Upstairs much later on I received a call from a desperate lady who needed the loo!
They got engaged on Christmas Day, fifteen months after our USA trip. Bob having asked me first if I minded. Of course I didn’t, she loved us both now and I was in tears when he popped the question after a great dinner made by me and she’d said yes. “Least you’ll be able to remember that date,” I laughed and got hugs for that.
The wedding was planned for the summer but I was amazed when in March Bob announced he was selling his company and retiring. He’s only 55 I thought and was a little dismayed at that. “Oh, I thought you’d be happy that I’d be here. As you’ll be leaving too, we’re gonna have more than enough money for years to come, yes?”
I wasn’t however. My role might be small in the company but I’d earned it on merit and was proud of that. While being ‘the boss’ girl had helped there were some who’d thought otherwise but I proved to them that I was capable, now he was taking it away. Didn’t he understand that I wanted to earn my own money, also you easily get bored if playtime is all the time and we had a frosty talk that afternoon and he groaned when I got stroppy. “I’ll help Mary with her work as she wants me and Milly to model the restraints for the calendar, but I’m not leaving, OK?” He sighed and nodded then left me be.
My pigheadedness came back to haunt me. Within two months of him leaving I was forced out, devastated to have been told I was being demoted to secretary rather than the managerial position I occupied. The new owner regarded women in engineering companies as ‘tea-girls and typists’ so if I didn’t comply then tough luck. A long tearful chat with Mary and Bob that night was enough and my notice went in next morning. 
So now unemployed but after moping about getting in Bob’s way I decided to have a weekend in the coffin to do some thinking alone. He seemed quick to comply and helped set things up on the Friday, the drinks and stuff much tastier now I’d worked out how to get it right. Also teaching Mary how it worked. The lid went down and he screwed me closed. I half hoped he’d bury me but instead shifted the casket to one side and they didn’t use the basement at all. A nice quiet weekend followed and I was much happier when freedom came on the Sunday night. 
Mary moved in two months before the big day as she had offers for her place. A fat cheque landed in our accounts even after the eye-watering tax bill and she was quick to see I got a share. Grateful for that we went to for a little dinner to celebrate. Both of us looked great, me in my black dress, Mary in the midnight blue outfit worn the night we’d had in San Francisco. After the meal I bumped into a couple of former work colleagues and decided to allow the others to go home while I stayed out for an hour or so. “You behave yourself, young lady,” he grinned waggling a finger and Mary chuckled.
“Nearly thirty now, I can cope! Besides I’ve had my regulation two drinks, I’m only on the coffee now,” I grinned and waved them off, Margie and Katryn waiting patiently by the door. We went back in, sat down with a steaming jug of best Colombian brew and I caught up on news from ‘the coalface’ Marge saying it was bad there now, both women were thinking of quitting. “You got out just in time Sally love, we’re going to give it another month then I‘m out too. Kat will probably follow,” and I saw her nodding.
A tray of cocktails arrived twenty minutes later and I looked at the others, none of us had ordered and I was puzzled til the bartender said three guys in the corner had sent them across. We turned and saw my nemesis from the company and two of Bob’s engineers, one who’d left shortly before me, Maurice raising his pint glass in salute. “Guess it’s a ‘no-hard-feelings’ round,” I joked and the others grinned. We dithered as they were rather OTT for us, blue green and lastly an orange one with cherries and stuff jutting out on sticks. “Girlie drinks, for girlies I’ll bet they’re probably saying,” Kat joked and we all giggled. 
“Well, a shame to waste them…girlies…” I smiled so picked the green one, Marge went for blue leaving Kat, with orange. “Bottom’s up…” Katryn said then I daintily sipped mine, hoping it’d be some sort of mint flavouring. I rolled it over my tongue… 
“Oh bloody hell…” I wheezed, trying not to cough, “It’s foul, what the heck is it…?” and Marge stared at me having knocked half of hers back. “Water…quickly Sal…” she muttered and thankfully this place has iced jugs of the stuff on a central table. I came back and she grabbed a glass and put that back in one. “I’m gonna complain ‘bout these,” Katryn growled and I was nodding, water being drunk now as I tried to get the taste out of my mouth. 
Margie sat there staring at the remains of her drink and I thought she was shaking. “You alright Ma…?” I began and she shook her head. “No, I feel rubbish…” she muttered and I turned to look at Maurice’s gathering to see what their reaction was, only to see they’d gone! The bartender wiping down the table as he cleared the glasses. We needed help and I went across, not feeling that brilliant myself now as I reached him.
“Excuse me buddy,” I said, tapping his arm. “Those drinks you gave us that these guys bought, I think they’ve been spiked. My mates are in trouble,” and he turned to look in surprise. Seeing me standing there, looking peaky and his face fell as he peered over my shoulder at Marge who was leaning back, eyes closed with Kat coughing too. “OK missy, you go sit down, I’ll call for an ambulance, OK?” I nodded and thanked him, wobbling back to the corner, falling into my seat and I looked back to see him on the phone, waving off a customer who wanted serving. 
He came across with a bucket and towels, just in time as Margie grabbed it and threw up, thankfully straight into it. “Right, done the call love, they’re a bit busy so it’ll be as fast as poss, OK?” 
Well it wasn’t but at least he was serious and I thanked him, asking the guy to shoo off a couple of people watching us. He did so and they left, one saying women shouldn’t be drinking if they couldn’t handle it! I told him in no certain terms to clear off and a few people stared at me. Feeling shameful seeing Kat was crying, Margie slumped against the cushions and she really was shaking now. I was pleased to hear sirens getting closer and soon I was wincing as they were right outside, the lights flashing SO brightly.
Two guys thundered in, hi-viz jackets a welcome sight as their bags dropped onto the sofas and they began working on us, naturally Margie was first while an arriving police officer sat down and tried talking to me about what happened. I wasn’t really in the mood, my mouth was dry despite the water but I gradually told him. Naming the three guys but the copper said he didn’t believe me! “You girls just cannot handle your booze! I’ve seen it too often in this town.” Even the bartender got brushed off when he tried to confirm what I’d said was the truth. Raising his voice and the officer told him to back off. I was getting anxious now, tears not far away because of his attitude. 
“Think you better ring his station, get a real one here, not a guy on a power trip” I said to the barman who did his best not to grin. Only for officer idiot to reach over and jab a finger into my chest telling me to shut up. However it went further forward than he expected and it poked me on the nipple. “You dirty bastard!” I shouted, making more people turn and stare. I also swatted his hand away and he jumped to his feet while I staggered to mine.
“Right, you’re under arrest love…” he snapped, reaching for his cuffs and even the paramedics looked up from their work on Katryn and one protested, “she’s done nothing wrong, leave her be…” But before I could react he’d cuffed my left arm and was twisting it behind me. I squealed and he grinned then grabbed my other arm, slapping it in and securing them tight. Now I really screamed as he pushed me down onto the sofa, my head striking the side and I felt faint now as he stood there warning me not to struggle or else. Getting on his radio to try calling for reinforcements. 
The only help that arrived was for me. Several guys came over having realised what was happening, two of them grabbing the officer and wrestling him to the floor and now it really kicked off. Someone, an older lady even helped me sit down, my head pounding and I felt sick, but with the damn cuffs on could do nothing except cry and she wiped my eyes with a tissue, that bit of kindness probably stopping me freaking out. 
A hulking great guy found the handcuff keys in the struggling policeman’s uniform and freed me, saying he was actually a fellow officer, a Detective Inspector no less but from a different station and he’d sort this out. Showing the ambulanceman his warrant card and Jason, the kindly medic nodded to me. “It’s gen missy and thanks Sir, now lets get you treated love.”
My wrists had marks on from the cuffs and he fed me painkillers or something like that. Making me drink way too much liquid too and I desperately needed the loo. The lady who’d done my face took me there, turned out she was the D.I’s wife and we vanished into the disabled cubicle where I vomited explosively into the bowl. I didn’t realise that was the intention, to flush the drugs out of my system but she waited till my heaving stopped, turning round and I paused… “I’ll wait outside honey,” she chuckled and stepped away, closing the door allowing me privacy.
Emerging after a clean up, with empty bowels I grinned tiredly but was worried about what Bob and Mary would say when they found out. Mrs D.I helped me reaffix my slap then led me back to the bar. Most of the crowd had gone, so had Margie and Kat in the ambulance but I shuddered on seeing more policemen there, convinced they would arrest me again. But my helper’s husband was doing a sterling job, having witnessed the whole thing and soon I watched my second nemesis being cuffed and led away by others. 
I gave a statement then asked about getting a taxi home, only for Bob and Mary to come in moments later and they looked aghast. I burst into tears again, rushing into their arms and hugging both tightly to me. The D.I sat us down and assured me that no further action was being taken against me, but that it was unlikely that they’d be able to prove it was Maurice or his cohorts who’d drugged our drinks. Even the barman was appalled, he’d deposited the tray on their table, only to be called five minutes later and told to bring them to ours. “It HAD to be them, Sir,” he stormed and I nodded in agreement but just wanted to go home and forget about it.
Mary drove us back and I thanked them with hugs before fleeing in tears to my room. Bob later knocked on the door but I refused to open it and he said if I needed him I just had to ask. Right now I wanted to be alone and politely said so, blew a kiss then threw myself into bed.
That event really battered my self-confidence, way more than the demotion. I was convinced everyone had it in for me and panicked when asked to go to the shops. Mary did a magnificent job and after two weeks of ‘house arrest’ she coaxed me into town to pick up the dress I’d be wearing for their wedding. Not quite a bridemaids’ one but an outfit to do me justice. The smile I had on modelling it in the shop proved that maybe I was getting over it now. 
Not so when we got confirmation that the inquiries were being dropped and I began to worry again. Even Bob was starting to get concerned. They were due on honeymoon three days after the wedding, but if I couldn’t get a grip then they might have to cancel it. “Well how else can we get round it?” he sighed in the kitchen. I managed not to throw a strop and said I would consider staying in my coffin for that time til they returned.
Mary was amazed at the idea. “But it’s almost three weeks darling, surely your food and stuff would run out?” she said but I shook my head. “No, I’ve been tweaking the system for a long time, testing it for ages. It’s why I haven’t used it for a month while checking out ideas. I know it’ll be fine, trust me guys.”
They sent me outside to cut the lawn and discussed it and on return an hour later gave their consent. But suggested I Skype Milly first to ask her opinion. Mary knew I talked often with the Californian so that night I called her. Upset to discover Mil couldn’t get a visa to attend the wedding having been invited so commiserations were offered. We talked for ages and I said what I’d proposed. “Well if that’s your way of dealing with it Sal, and your folks okay it then I guess it’s a yes from me too. You’re a wacko love, just let me know when you ‘return’ OK?” I agreed, waved her goodbye and switched off. I went downstairs and looked at them. Mary knew and came across and hugged me. “OK honey, we’ll do it.” Bob nodding and I challenged him to make me safer than ever before. “Yes sweetheart, I’ll try to do that. I promise.”
The wedding was a quiet affair. Just them and me, two of my girlfriends and some of Bob and Mary’s closest acquaintances at the registry office. I managed not to sob as I handed the rings over, feeling nice in my new dress and heels. Once the event was done we had the reception at a local pub and soon they retired to the house, I went to a hotel with my friends to give them space and this time we managed not to get in any trouble!   
Since deciding to ‘go down’ for the time required I’d been asked not to go below stairs. Bob worked tirelessly alone doing heaven knows what. Mary and I went out frequently at his request sometimes all day and I’d love to know what he was up to. But a promise of ‘no peeking’ was to be obeyed or I’d have to stay up.
Now the day dawned and Mary helped me dress. And what an outfit too, not a real bridal gown but a formal silk one all the same. No train or veils but it looked stunning and I cried when she first showed it to me. “I read the stories love, it’s the best I could do…” she said and got buried in hugs. Make-up and hair followed then finest underwear was supplied and she allowed me to fit the tubes alone.
I was trembling as finally I was eased into the frock and it was drawn around me and zipped to my neck, lastly stepping into three-inch heels. Going to my dressing table I grabbed one of Donna’s favourite lockets from my jewellery box and slipped the necklace around. Dropping it inside the dress where it nestled into my cleavage. Mary took many photos then showed me them and I nearly wept again. “Don’t you dare smudge…” she joked, holding hands as I promised her I’d be alright. “I know darling, its going to be painful for us to be apart but I understand.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Pod</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-pod/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-pod/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;My name is Sara, I am 18, and I have accepted appointment to the population continuance program.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We have lived underground here on Mars for 200 years after the great war decimate the earth. We were left isolated and alone on our own. Our early settlements were on the surface and were inadequate for long term settlement. We eventually developed the technology to move underground, but not before exposure to the surface radiation reduced the fertility of our population to less than 1%. Hence, the population continuance program was created to ensure the continuation of the human species on Mars. Those of us who are fertile and of good genetic quality are rare and highly valued. To turn down appointment to the program is unheard of.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tightly Bound Bride</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tightly-bound-bride/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tightly-bound-bride/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="tightly_bound_bride06.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tightly Bound Bride&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Seven&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mary
awakened before her Mistress.  She felt rested, but her body was stiff
and sore, her jaw ached, and her wrists and elbow were still red and tender
from the long hours of tight ligature.  Not wanting to wake Erika,
Mary resisted the impulse to stretch.  Instead, she lay still, until
finally Erika stirred.  “Good Morning, slave.”  “Good Morning
Mistress.” Mary answered submissively.  The girls kissed, and another
day had begun.  Mary wondered where James was.  She still had
not seen her new husband since her arrival!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Tightly Bound Bride</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/tightly-bound-bride/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/tightly-bound-bride/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="tightly_bound_bride07.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tightly Bound Bride&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter Eight&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mary
waited for hours.  She waited quietly, of course, but she didn’t wait
patiently!  She dreamt of nothing, and thought of nothing other than
having James’s manhood replace any and all of the three phalluses wedged
in her three pink openings.  Mary wished that he had three penises,
so that she could take all three at once!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Finally
Mary felt the faint vibrations of a key in one of the locks on her cabinet. 
With the sound to her earphones turned off, and the box itself on a hard
floor, she could neither hear nor feel anyone approach, so the sound of
the key startled her into alertness.  One by one the locks were unfastened,
and the clasps opened.  Fresh air!  For the first time in a week
Mary felt cool air on her body.  “God,” she thought, “how precious
are the simple pleasures of life!”  The top of the box was carefully
opened, and Mary could feel hands disconnecting the external leads for
the earphones, and the breathing and feeding tubes from her nostrils and
the huge gag.  After breathing air which had passed through rubber
tubing for so long, the clean, cool smell of fresh air was better than
the best perfume.  She breathed greedily, half afraid that the lid
would again slam shut, and she would again find herself occluded behind
damp, confining rubber.  The hands were, however, surprisingly gentle,
and they had no intention of returning her to stringent confinement. 
Mary felt the straps holding her body immobile in the custom sculpted cavity
inside the box fall away one by one.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>