<?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>Invert on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/invert/</link><description>Recent content in Invert on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Mon, 07 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/invert/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Last Cage</title><link>/stories/2023/08/07/last-cage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 07 Aug 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/08/07/last-cage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Abby stands by a window feeling the heat from the sun increasing on her bare skin, as the first drop of sweat runs down her chest and off her nipple she sighs as her body shudders from the tickling feeling she can do nothing about. Abby had been locked in her first cage when she was eight years old by her older brother. Her brother had tricked her into climbing in, “Just to see if she would fit,” quickly closing the door and putting his locker combination lock around the bars of the door and side. Abby spent the remainder of the day trapped inside the small steel box while her brother went to play with his friends.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Further Training of 'S' 5: Turning things on their head</title><link>/stories/2010/11/24/the-further-training-of-s-5-turning-things-on-their-head/</link><pubDate>Wed, 24 Nov 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/11/24/the-further-training-of-s-5-turning-things-on-their-head/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="further_trainingofs04.html"&gt;part 4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 5: Turning things on their head&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘Lizzie’ now rested rose from her latex bed and carefully placed herself close beside it; her chain tether allowed little slack but allowed her to assume a kneeling position in the classic slave pose beside her bed. She smiled to herself. Her neck still ached from the service she had provided her Mistress with but she was feeling happy because although she had been exhausted on her return to her cell and put to bed, she had had the undivided attention of her beloved Mistress for much of the day. The hours spent in the bondage seat chest with only her rubber face exposed, her helmeted head held immovably by the bondage straps had been testing; her suited body containing the fiendish vibrators which she both loved and hated had been fitted prior to her encapsulation had tested her to extreme. The inflatable heavy rubber lining of the chest had been pumped up to hold her snugly within the solid walls of the chest. The fact that she had been used by the Mistress throughout the day as a tongue slave had left her both exhausted as well as completely fulfilled.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>