<?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>Jail on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/jail/</link><description>Recent content in Jail 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/jail/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Body Swap</title><link>/stories/2016/11/21/body-swap/</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Nov 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/11/21/body-swap/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Non-consensual Sex, Future&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Prisoner agrees to a body swap, but it isn&amp;rsquo;t what he thought.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In some future time, prisoners can agree to a body swap with someone older than themselves so that they become the age they would be when their sentence is complete. Robert Voleman sees this as a way to get out of jail early to continue his predatory life. The final result, however, is not quite what he expected.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Museum of the Future</title><link>/stories/2016/11/21/museum-of-the-future/</link><pubDate>Mon, 21 Nov 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/11/21/museum-of-the-future/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;So Jade invited us to the museum after hours, for those that read my stories you will already know, but for noobs, Jade is my sister-in-law, and Vicki is my partner. Now when Jade invites us there it is normally for some private play time. This time she was particularly excited.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We arrived promptly and entered the museum just before closing, we wait in the café. Jade comes through locking the main door after the last of the gift shop hangers on left for the night. She is visibly jubilant and tells us to drink up and come with her. We are lead in to the bowels of the building through lots of large heavy doors, this is an old jail. We finally arrive in a large room lit harshly by fluorescent lights. There is a large sign propped up against a table which says “Restraints of the Future”, on the table there are large black cloths covering whatever is on top.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Museum Gibbet</title><link>/stories/2016/11/11/museum-gibbet/</link><pubDate>Fri, 11 Nov 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/11/11/museum-gibbet/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was late spring, the three of us, my partner Vicki, her sister Jade and myself were sat chatting. I was complaining about packing on a few extra pounds over Christmas and just having a generally nice day with two lovely looking ladies. My partner Vicki went to the kitchen to refill the tea pot. No sooner than she had left the room, Jade lent over to me and said, you know, if you really want to lose a few pound I have an idea, I will talk to Vicki. Thinking nothing more about it the next few weeks went past fairly uneventfully.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Emma's Entombment 4</title><link>/stories/2015/11/15/emmas-entombment-4/</link><pubDate>Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/11/15/emmas-entombment-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continued from &lt;a href="emmasentombment3.html"&gt;part 3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was Emma who awoke first, cradled in her husband’s arms. Seeing the sun rising over the wonderful Cairo skyline. She sighed and snuggled closer to her man… knowing… knowing…
Knowing this might be their last day alive!
In the months after her surprise release from the casket by Rashid Feroz and his men, she, and her husband had endured a living hell at the hands of the Egyptian authorities.
Yet at first it seemed to have been all right.
Emma had stood in the sarcophagus for what seemed hours, convinced now that she was permanently entombed, when suddenly her ears heard a ‘thump’
“Surely… not?” she whispered, then minutes later her eyes blurred with tears as the faint sounds of what appeared to be digging reached her. “Oh Emma, I’m sorry… they’ve come after all!” she wept, part wanting freedom, but also now wondering if this was Tony alone as it got louder. But why was he digging anyway? The sarcophagus only had to be hooked up then winched out, unless that had somehow broken.
Gradually she could hear voices… not just Tony when he’d yelled, hoping for her to reply. Trouble being that Emma didn’t want to be freed now if it was not just something between them. The idea she’d get opened up like some exhibit terrified Mrs Cline so the girl didn’t reply.
“Please Emma, fight for me… ” she sobbed, those veils soaked with tears and sticking to both cheeks now.
Tony was relieved when they arrived there. Himself and Rashid Feroz, plus two men from the museum but the Professor’s wife Fatima was also here; brought by her husband to look after Mrs Cline if she’d survived.
Feroz was amazed when Cline showed him the room and his eyes swept the walls, the Brit however was appalled to find the place empty! “But it WAS here Rashid. I promise you… IT WAS HERE!” he said, jabbing at the floor. The two workers looked baffled, their boss guilty as he stared at Cline. “My turn to confess Tony… ” he said.
Only Cline’s professionally trained responses to a crisis stopped him killing the Egyptian right there when Feroz told him about the police report. Simmering down after he finished, his boots scraping around and eventually finding the edges of the hatch. “OK, guess we’re as bad. But let’s not waste any more time.”
So they began. Cline assembling his winch while the workers dug. Feroz preparing a drill to make some air holes. The three local men’s eyes widened on hitting the top of the sarcophagus. Cline just relieved and it was he who started yelling to his wife, praying for her to respond. Not knowing she was weeping quietly below.
The sound of the drill was terrifyingly loud as it bored into the top. Feroz easing it down, worried that he might end up killing Mrs Cline himself. So he did holes in the corners away from where her head should be, several now showing darkness against the sandstone. He stopped after doing ten. Lying on the edge then banged on the top.
“Mrs Cline, its Professor Feroz. Are you alright… ?” he said. Everyone listening intently…
Twice more he tried and was about to admit defeat when…
“Yes Rashid… I’m fine… Is Tony there?” they heard faintly. The two workers looked stunned, each hugging the other, as it appeared their mission was successful now.
Cline was in tears, his face buried in both hands before he went and embraced the two men. Fatima standing to one side looking amazed. Her lips moving as she prayed thanks to her God for the deliverance of this lady.
Delivering Mrs Cline to the surface took another hour. Now she’d accepted the idea of freedom Emma began to talk to her man as he briefed her on what had happened. She took it well, knowing they would be in Rashid’s debt for many a year now. Either financially or something else. More holes were drilled around the top, obliterating the face now then the whole front part of the head fell away, revealing…
The Egyptian group stared at the sight of the white veiled figure inside as they looked down. Tony had not told them about Emma’s attire and he knew the level of embarrassment would get worse as more of his wife’s lovely body was revealed.
More digging from the side now and soon they were down halfway. Her chest visible now and the workers stunned as they stared at her breasts. Her face inside rocking slightly, that gold collar around its neck and she was still crying as well. When they stopped for a break everyone except Tony went outside. Leaving him to cradle Emma’s face and try to unlock the first of her restraints.
Searching for the lever brought a puzzled look.
“They fell out, all six of them,” she shrugged on being asked. Then Cline heard the rest and it made him shudder. Realising that they were going to have to smash the whole sarcophagus apart, in-situ and his heart sank… .only to see her suddenly starting to smile at him.
“What’s so funny… honey,” he began, smiling now at the rhyme. She grinned back, trembling as he crouched down and the couple had a long kiss. Emma’s eyes beginning to water again at the thought of freedom seconds away.
“The pins are all upright. Now you remember that surely Tony? You put the restraints on. It’s easy. Just put your hands under my arms… and lift!”
His head fell against hers and they kissed again before he bent down, sliding his buckets, firstly over those breasts making her squeak before getting into position. Under her armpits and…
Emma Cline squealed as she felt herself rising. Neck, back, the legs and her wrists all suddenly loose from their pins. The weight coming off her feet for the first time in ages was SO good as she clung on. Bursting into tears as he brought her up and out of the sarcophagus and laid her down on the sand. Grabbing a blanket that Fatima Feroz had been sitting on while the others had worked. Wrapping Emma’s torso to protect her modesty as she kicked off those shoes with a groan.
“Bit late now, those two have been staring at them ever since that big chunk came off. Which, unfortunately is more than can be said for my ‘jewellery.’ They all tightened again after the sarcophagus was closed. Then the handles fell out too. You’re going to have to grind them off!”
The collar was going to be the problem. Far too tight to cut from inside out and the other way would risk slicing into an artery. It took Tony long enough to remove the veils, at first feeding them through. Before ending up chopping the material apart from above with a knife then tugging the fragments away.
NOW they could properly kiss. Lips locked together and it felt so good as he stroked her cheeks. Dabbing them dry with a hankie, amazed that despite her ordeal Emma still looked lovely, if a little red around the eyes. Make-up was smudged too. “You’re a bloody mess!”
She laughed now, hugging him tightly, the tears soon restarting however and that was how the others found them. Locked together and only a polite cough split the couple apart.
Rashid Feroz was amazed to see her free. Staring at the gold loops around her limbs, the collar too. Thankfully the blanket covered her body but those long slim legs were clearly visible through the material of her dress. Fatima just looked shocked, but eventually came closer and was hugged by the ‘victim’ as she still thought of the girl.
The other two men looked on impassionless now. Seeing as their job was done. Feroz spoke to them both and lots of nodding was done. Cline came up and personally thanked them, then Emma staggered to her feet, wincing in pain but walked over with Fatima’s assistance. Taking their hands and kissing them on both cheeks. It seemed to satisfy the pair, Cline noticing the younger guy had stroked Emma’s ass! They packed away the winch then left, taking the truck with them. Tony intending to drive the other two back in their jeep.
Firstly they had to get those restraints off Emma’s body and led her out of the dig. The girl breathing fresh air, even though it was way after dark.
Two long hours later Emma Cline was genuinely ‘free’. The last loop cut into three segments lying on the workshop table. She picked up the bit marked ‘Emma’ and briefly kissed it before Tony brought in a suitcase and his wife went alone next door and dressed herself into… well something a little less revealing!
Fatima Feroz held Emma’s robe and cradling it to her face with a sigh as the girl returned. Rashid saw this and grinned, his wife starting to blush and she turned away. Mrs Cline taking it from the lady, folding it carefully then ‘presenting’ it with a bow. Feroz saw a look pass between them then the ladies hugged again. The Egyptian’s wife looked to her man and he nodded. An embarrassed smile on Fatima’s face then they all laughed as she went red.
She tucked it into a bag then suggested it was time they went home. Cline looked at his watch and winced. Nearly 10pm now and he guessed the hotel ought to be told they were going to be very late. He asked Feroz to call them and the man did, but during the conversation Tony realised something was wrong. Rashid jabbering away then he nodded, seeing Fatima too appeared to be agreeing with him as the call ended.
“They thought you were not coming, especially as most of the other guests couldn’t get there either because of the accident.” The two Britons looked puzzled before he explained “Sorry Tony, but a container ship broke free from its moorings and hit your boat, splitting it in two! It’s OK, nobody got killed as the tour hadn’t started receiving guests. The crew is fine too. Some a bit wet, as they had to dive off the back. But it means no vessel, as the company only have the two and the second is up river.”
Emma looked disconsolate now, only cheering slightly as the Feroz’s invited them to remain at the house as their guests. Cline didn’t want to impose but it was Fatima who insisted. Rashid going along with it, though he did laugh and asked Emma’ if she’d like to return to her sarcophagus instead!
That cracked everyone up and they departed, getting to the Feroz apartment just after midnight. Rashid saying he hoped that they would stay the weekend… as he wanted a longer look at the extra bits at Neen-Al Tudlobry. Now he had the ‘experts’ he hoped more interesting artifacts would appear. Tony looked at his wife and she glowed, the girl intending to be more honest and reveal the existance of the storeroom.
So that was agreed and on the Friday afternoon the Professor and both Clines’ returned. Fatima was at work so was unable to come. “Some of us have proper jobs. Unlike you three playing games,” she’d said with a twinkle when they’d prepared to depart. A great day was had; Rashid astonished as he saw the storeroom then asked what else they knew about. Slightly dismayed to find this was ‘it’. As far as the couple had got. “However,” Tony said. “We’re not due to be back in Cairo for six days. If you want, as the cruise is off we’ll do some exploring until then. Get all these documented as well, yes?” Pointing to the hieroglyphics on the wall.
Rashid Feroz was delighted, agreeing to that so everyone went back to Cairo where Fatima was told of the plans. Mrs Feroz taking Emma off to go food and supply shopping for the British pair. She was still amazed at what Mrs Cline had endured and they had a ‘girlie’ chat about what it had all been about. Emma finding out that her host had a wonderful sense of humour and they’d enjoy their day out together.
A dinner for four at a local restaurant then back to their place. Emma and Tony sitting outside late on as the others had retired early. Going past the couple’s bedroom to use a bathroom Mrs Cline couldn’t help listening. Returning to her own she saw her hubby and slyly grinned.
“I think Fatima’s getting full use of my ‘robe’” she murmured.
Sunday saw them departing Cairo. Hugs and kisses all round before Tony drove his wife away. The pair now armed with enough stuff to last the week, but also official permits and translated documents from Rashid’s office allowing them to be there too. “I wasn’t able to speak to the police but show them these and you’ll be alright. Good luck… and don’t get stuck again!” he joked and they all laughed at that.
The rest of the day the couple worked hard in the room. All the hieroglyphics were photographed and e-mailed to Rashid. Getting a ‘well-done’ in return. They had dinner in the open, sitting outside looking up at the stars once the sun had vanished. “You know Tony, I really thought my time had come, will not happen again,” Emma said cuddling him. Turning in later on he came to the dormitory to see his wife dressed in…
“Might have guessed. You’ve been waiting all day to get into one of those haven’t you Mrs?” he grinned. Emma now blushing as she sat on the bed waiting for Tony’s wandering hands that were heading towards her breasts.
Monday dawned cool and clear so after breakfast Emma dressed conservatively in her blue maxi-dress, this time without the jacket. Trainers applied and Tony had nodded in approval. Now she was striding towards the dig entrance long after lunch when she heard a jeep coming along the track. It drove right up to her and two policemen got out. Promptly grabbing the girl and naturally Emma screamed as they started yelling at her. When she didn’t reply one of the men slapped her hard across the face and she fell backwards and tumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust.
Tony heard the commotion and hurried up the passageway, emerging to see his wife being handcuffed then dragged to the jeep and hurled against the side. Shouting at the cops to stop he advanced. Only for one of them to draw a pistol, ordering him in Arabic to raise his hands. Well, the gesture appeared to be that so Cline obeyed. The driver now got out, obviously the senior man and it was Tony’s turn to get the treatment. Of course being a physically imposing specimen he too was cuffed before the couple were led to the dormitory. The policemen seeing the footprints leading to and from the building and knowing where any other people might be found.
Both Britons were told to sit down. Emma looking very scared as she was ‘dusted off’ by wandering hands then she was helped to a chair by the two smirking young officers. Her cuffs digging into the wrists and she was already worried about nerve damage as they were far too tightly applied.
Cline did his best. Indicating where Feroz’s permits were and one of the men grabbed the file. Leafing through them and muttering something to the boss. He shrugged and nodded. To their relief both sets of cuffs were removed and the pair allowed sitting next to the other. Emma’s hands being cradled by her husband. Mainly to stop them seeing how frightened they both were. A bottle of water appeared and was tossed across. Cline’s great reactions preventing it striking his wife’s face as she recoiled.
The language barrier was an obvious problem. Neither of the Clines spoke Arabic and if their captors knew English then they were not letting on as they rabid on for ages. The chief was getting cross now and eventually pointed to them, then the door and Tony guessed this might mean trouble. Emma stared in shock at the gesture to stand up then put her arms behind. Slowly doing so then the officers produced their handcuffs. She made to move towards Tony for protection but a loud command made her freeze.
Emma trembled as the cuffs were applied, wincing, as again they were too tight before he pointed to the door and she was led outside. Tony stood helpless as she vanished, hearing her start to cry before her footsteps had faded. A loud squeal of ‘No!’ made him glare at the boss… who drew his own pistol and cocked it!
One man returned… smiling and jabbering to the boss. Who now grinned then Tony was led out, the guy surprised not to have been cuffed. To see only the jeep and their own. No sign of his wife and he turned, getting angry now.
“Where is she?” he stormed. Itching to go to the police vehicle, as she must be in the blacked out back. But he was forced at gunpoint by the boss to get into the driver’s seat of their own jeep then indications were that he was to lead, the others would follow.
Emma was terrified as she’d been bundled into the vehicle and made to sit on the bench. One of the men followed and Mrs Cline shook as he grabbed more cuffs and her ankles were secured together. Another set was applied to a strut below the wooden slats and it’s other loop attached to her restraints between those trembling legs. Pinning her into position. A shout to his mate getting in up front and the driver fired up the engine. She didn’t hear Tony at first then his voice, making her smile briefly before a slap wiped that off her face. Emma made to kick him, only to gasp as the cuffs did their job, digging into her skin and she yelped. A wagging finger from the smirking officer made it worse.
Away they roared. Emma trying desperately to hang on, grabbing the slats as the driver tried to keep up with Tony and once more Em wished he wasn’t trying to be a rally-driver. At one point she almost slid off the bench. Only the officer’s hands grabbing her torso stopped Mrs Cline doing that. Of course it gave him an opportunity for a grope too and Emma squealed, making the Egyptians laugh. A barrage of chatter flying between them, before the driver said something in English!
“We’ll see you alright Mrs… ” then laughed in a way that made the girl shiver…
Emma was shocked; launching into a right rant, going on for a few minutes as the pair just grinned at her. Making Mrs Cline furious now. She threatened to tell their boss what they’d done to her while he was out of view. The one in the back stuck his face close to hers.
“We haven’t done anything to you,” her captor grinned… “Yet.”
She lost control now. Aiming a head-butt that only just missed as he ducked back. That was a serious miscalculation on her part. More jabbering as he leaned against the partition at the front then said something sharp to his mate.
The driver stood hard on the brakes and no way could Emma Cline hold on. Launching forward she tumbled off the bench smacking headfirst into the divider. The anklecuffs digging harshly into her legs and Emma screamed. Shaking her head at the blow and falling to the floor as he accelerated again. The guy in the back moved swiftly now as she rolled about face down, unable to help herself get up.
He unlocked the cuff from the strut and tugged upwards. Emma’s feet lifting before he pulled forward and bent her legs towards the wrists. Easing the loop around and relocking it in a hog-tie. Now Mrs Cline panicked before her chin was grabbed and he shoved an oily rag in there, wrapping another over the top as Emma went berserk.
This was intolerable but there was precious little she could do except scream. But like Abdul it just seemed to be spurring her assailant on. He laughed to his mate, the driver turning to look and that was SO frightening as the jeep swerved and wobbled over the road.
Now she quietened down, hoping this would be enough but young policeman had other ideas for pretty foreign lady. She had things he and Rasul, his mate upfront didn’t. Lifting underneath Emma’s armpits he hauled the girl up onto her knees then forced Mrs Cline back onto her haunches, facing the front away from him. NOW he could get to work.
Unzipping Emma’s dress, ignoring her frantic squeals as she realised this was only the start of some serious abuse. He eased the shoulder straps down over her arms, pinning them to her torso. Revealing the lacy black bra and the twin treasures it contained. Deftly that too was undone and her perfect 36C’s were laid bare for them to ogle. The driver guffawing as his buddy placed both hands and squeezed.
Emma screamed now as he manipulated them, the driver saying something to him. Pointing to the traffic that was building rapidly in front as they came down the valley into Cairo. The earlier braking had already seen Tony and the boss pulling away and it seemed these two bastards were in no rush to get to the station as he laughed in reply.
Mrs Cline would later describe this as ‘Traffic Tit Torment’ as she was fondled in time to the movement of the jeep. Any left turn and that breast would be grabbed. Go right and the other would get it. Braking or acceleration would get both nipples pinched and the girl was soon in agony, not knowing they’d been past the Police station at least three times already!
Eventually he tired of this and she was roughly redressed. A sigh followed by a squeal as he let go, pushing Emma forward and her body slammed into the floor, banging the side of her face as she tried to brace for the impact.
She was relieved when they pulled through an armoured gate and the jeep parked up. The door opened and her tormentor undid her leg cuffs then dragged Emma out. Marching her past a bunch of his mates, playfully slapping away at least two wandering hands that reached towards her. Arriving in what she assumed was the custody area of course her first intention was looking for Tony as she was made to stand in the corner.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sisterly Curator</title><link>/stories/2014/10/08/sisterly-curator/</link><pubDate>Wed, 08 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/10/08/sisterly-curator/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="sisterlycurator.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sisterly Curator&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 2&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After what seemed like an eternity and falling asleep several times, there was a brief buzz swiftly followed by the lights flickering into life. A few more seconds and I could hear the door being unlocked. Jade walked over to me calmly, unclipped the chains, and helped me up into a sitting position.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“What time is it?” my voice cracked and croaked.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“It’s about 7:30” she said calmly.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Hubby's Second Surprise</title><link>/stories/2011/05/01/hubbys-second-surprise/</link><pubDate>Sun, 01 May 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/05/01/hubbys-second-surprise/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="hubbys_surprise.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hubby&amp;rsquo;s Second Surprise or Maria&amp;rsquo;s Time In Jail&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Maria&amp;rdquo; arrived at our house with Ken and she looked great. The first time she spoke I had to make sure it was really &amp;ldquo;her&amp;rdquo;, her voice was perfect&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &amp;hellip;The first time we dressed hubby as a woman, all those years ago, it kind of drove home the fact that my former hubby was effeminate. I never saw it that way before my little sister made him a school project, but I think he actually made a better woman than a man&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Brave New World</title><link>/stories/2010/04/06/brave-new-world/</link><pubDate>Tue, 06 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/04/06/brave-new-world/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This story was an entry into the 2010 Winter Fetish Story Contest&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The massive city twinkled in the night like a Christmas tree.  To an observer, it looked like a steel painting of well designed buildings and architectural perfection, as if humanity had reached the peak of their technological triumph.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Had an observer gone down to street level however, they would have been surprised to see how the residents were different from their city.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Isolation</title><link>/stories/2009/07/28/isolation/</link><pubDate>Tue, 28 Jul 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/07/28/isolation/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;WARNING ! This story is intended for adult persons over the age of eighteen and should not
be viewed by those under that age or the legal age of consent where you live.
This story contains aspects of rubber fetishism and other sexual acts and practices that may be
offensive to some people. This story is for ADULTS ONLY! If you don’t like seeing things such
as this, Please, read no further.
Unless authorized by the writer, this story is considered copyrighted and is the intellectual
property thereof. Please do not post to pay sites or any place else with out the authors
permission.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Four Months</title><link>/stories/2005/05/13/four-months/</link><pubDate>Fri, 13 May 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/05/13/four-months/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is not a happy, fun bondage
story.  If you don’t like grim stuff, then you probably won’t enjoy
this story. A special thank you must go to the members of the Gromets plaza
forum, whose input and suggestions helped shape this story into its final
form&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Goodnight!” Twenty three-year-old
Rebecca watched as the two old people walked out of the restaurant into
the cold night. She let out a sigh of satisfaction. Two more happy customers.
She put herself to work, clearing off the table that was covered in dishes
and dirty utensils.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Continually Increasing Bondage</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="continuallyincreasingbondage11.html"&gt;part 11&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 12&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;What it was that caused Hazel to become momentarily distracted wasn’t clear to Steve at the time. Maybe it was a sound that alerted her to the presence of someone else in the doorway; the sound of feet on floor, a gasp of surprise, or even simply the act of someone breathing. Or perhaps she’d noticed something move out of the corner of her eye. It could have been a silhouette briefly crossing the path of one of the now casually positioned torches that caught her attention. Or possibly it was none of the above, but simply a ‘sixth sense’; the feeling of being watched that you have when you know that there’s someone present, although none of your five regular senses seem to have been the receptor to this knowledge.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Continually Increasing Bondage</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="continuallyincreasingbondage12.html"&gt;part 12&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 13&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was warm and cosy in the boot of the car, and the constant drone of the engine was causing Lauren to become drowsy. Next to her, Jade stirred slightly, and the low, rhythmic breathing sounds that issued from her nose told Lauren that her travelling companion had already dropped off to sleep.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A sudden jolt, as the car stopped, brought Lauren back to full alertness. For a few seconds, the sounds of gates being opened filled the confined space, before the car moved onwards for a few more yards. Then the vehicle came to a more permanent halt and the engine cut out. Footsteps outside were swiftly followed by a brightness entering the cramped space, which coincided with the inrush of much cooler air.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Continually Increasing Bondage</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="continuallyincreasingbondage9.html"&gt;part 9&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Very nice. Very nice indeed!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Hazel purred with delight as she cupped Jade’s duct taped chin and forced the helplessly chained woman to stare upwards into her eyes. For several seconds she smiled unfeelingly at her prey, as if taking great pleasure from the fact that she was visibly quaking with fear. Then she briefly glanced back over her shoulder at the woman standing motionlessly by the door.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Continually Increasing Bondage</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/continually-increasing-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="continuallyincreasingbondage10.html"&gt;part 10&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 11&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Thud&amp;hellip;thud&amp;hellip;thud&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Amber’s conjoined feet beat upwards at the roof of her confining box with as much force as she could muster. The problem was, however, that the shallow nature of her casket meant that building up any momentum was almost impossible, and the fact that the lid of her place of entombment was lagged with a thick layer of foam padding, only added to the muffling effect of her endeavours to make her incarceration known to the world.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Emma's Entombment 4</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/emmas-entombment-4/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/emmas-entombment-4/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="emmasentombment3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Emma&amp;rsquo;s Entombment 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was Emma who awoke first, cradled in her husband’s arms. Seeing the sun rising over the wonderful Cairo skyline. She sighed and snuggled closer to her man… knowing… knowing…
Knowing this might be their last day alive!
In the months after her surprise release from the casket by Rashid Feroz and his men, she, and her husband had endured a living hell at the hands of the Egyptian authorities.
Yet at first it seemed to have been all right.
Emma had stood in the sarcophagus for what seemed hours, convinced now that she was permanently entombed, when suddenly her ears heard a ‘thump’
“Surely… not?” she whispered, then minutes later her eyes blurred with tears as the faint sounds of what appeared to be digging reached her. “Oh Emma, I’m sorry… they’ve come after all!” she wept, part wanting freedom, but also now wondering if this was Tony alone as it got louder. But why was he digging anyway? The sarcophagus only had to be hooked up then winched out, unless that had somehow broken.
Gradually she could hear voices… not just Tony when he’d yelled, hoping for her to reply. Trouble being that Emma didn’t want to be freed now if it was not just something between them. The idea she’d get opened up like some exhibit terrified Mrs Cline so the girl didn’t reply.
“Please Emma, fight for me… ” she sobbed, those veils soaked with tears and sticking to both cheeks now.
Tony was relieved when they arrived there. Himself and Rashid Feroz, plus two men from the museum but the Professor’s wife Fatima was also here; brought by her husband to look after Mrs Cline if she’d survived.
Feroz was amazed when Cline showed him the room and his eyes swept the walls, the Brit however was appalled to find the place empty! “But it WAS here Rashid. I promise you… IT WAS HERE!” he said, jabbing at the floor. The two workers looked baffled, their boss guilty as he stared at Cline. “My turn to confess Tony… ” he said.
Only Cline’s professionally trained responses to a crisis stopped him killing the Egyptian right there when Feroz told him about the police report. Simmering down after he finished, his boots scraping around and eventually finding the edges of the hatch. “OK, guess we’re as bad. But let’s not waste any more time.”
So they began. Cline assembling his winch while the workers dug. Feroz preparing a drill to make some air holes. The three local men’s eyes widened on hitting the top of the sarcophagus. Cline just relieved and it was he who started yelling to his wife, praying for her to respond. Not knowing she was weeping quietly below.
The sound of the drill was terrifyingly loud as it bored into the top. Feroz easing it down, worried that he might end up killing Mrs Cline himself. So he did holes in the corners away from where her head should be, several now showing darkness against the sandstone. He stopped after doing ten. Lying on the edge then banged on the top.
“Mrs Cline, its Professor Feroz. Are you alright… ?” he said. Everyone listening intently…
Twice more he tried and was about to admit defeat when…
“Yes Rashid… I’m fine… Is Tony there?” they heard faintly. The two workers looked stunned, each hugging the other, as it appeared their mission was successful now.
Cline was in tears, his face buried in both hands before he went and embraced the two men. Fatima standing to one side looking amazed. Her lips moving as she prayed thanks to her God for the deliverance of this lady.
Delivering Mrs Cline to the surface took another hour. Now she’d accepted the idea of freedom Emma began to talk to her man as he briefed her on what had happened. She took it well, knowing they would be in Rashid’s debt for many a year now. Either financially or something else. More holes were drilled around the top, obliterating the face now then the whole front part of the head fell away, revealing…
The Egyptian group stared at the sight of the white veiled figure inside as they looked down. Tony had not told them about Emma’s attire and he knew the level of embarrassment would get worse as more of his wife’s lovely body was revealed.
More digging from the side now and soon they were down halfway. Her chest visible now and the workers stunned as they stared at her breasts. Her face inside rocking slightly, that gold collar around its neck and she was still crying as well. When they stopped for a break everyone except Tony went outside. Leaving him to cradle Emma’s face and try to unlock the first of her restraints.
Searching for the lever brought a puzzled look.
“They fell out, all six of them,” she shrugged on being asked. Then Cline heard the rest and it made him shudder. Realising that they were going to have to smash the whole sarcophagus apart, in-situ and his heart sank… .only to see her suddenly starting to smile at him.
“What’s so funny… honey,” he began, smiling now at the rhyme. She grinned back, trembling as he crouched down and the couple had a long kiss. Emma’s eyes beginning to water again at the thought of freedom seconds away.
“The pins are all upright. Now you remember that surely Tony? You put the restraints on. It’s easy. Just put your hands under my arms… and lift!”
His head fell against hers and they kissed again before he bent down, sliding his buckets, firstly over those breasts making her squeak before getting into position. Under her armpits and…
Emma Cline squealed as she felt herself rising. Neck, back, the legs and her wrists all suddenly loose from their pins. The weight coming off her feet for the first time in ages was SO good as she clung on. Bursting into tears as he brought her up and out of the sarcophagus and laid her down on the sand. Grabbing a blanket that Fatima Feroz had been sitting on while the others had worked. Wrapping Emma’s torso to protect her modesty as she kicked off those shoes with a groan.
“Bit late now, those two have been staring at them ever since that big chunk came off. Which, unfortunately is more than can be said for my ‘jewellery.’ They all tightened again after the sarcophagus was closed. Then the handles fell out too. You’re going to have to grind them off!”
The collar was going to be the problem. Far too tight to cut from inside out and the other way would risk slicing into an artery. It took Tony long enough to remove the veils, at first feeding them through. Before ending up chopping the material apart from above with a knife then tugging the fragments away.
NOW they could properly kiss. Lips locked together and it felt so good as he stroked her cheeks. Dabbing them dry with a hankie, amazed that despite her ordeal Emma still looked lovely, if a little red around the eyes. Make-up was smudged too. “You’re a bloody mess!”
She laughed now, hugging him tightly, the tears soon restarting however and that was how the others found them. Locked together and only a polite cough split the couple apart.
Rashid Feroz was amazed to see her free. Staring at the gold loops around her limbs, the collar too. Thankfully the blanket covered her body but those long slim legs were clearly visible through the material of her dress. Fatima just looked shocked, but eventually came closer and was hugged by the ‘victim’ as she still thought of the girl.
The other two men looked on impassionless now. Seeing as their job was done. Feroz spoke to them both and lots of nodding was done. Cline came up and personally thanked them, then Emma staggered to her feet, wincing in pain but walked over with Fatima’s assistance. Taking their hands and kissing them on both cheeks. It seemed to satisfy the pair, Cline noticing the younger guy had stroked Emma’s ass! They packed away the winch then left, taking the truck with them. Tony intending to drive the other two back in their jeep.
Firstly they had to get those restraints off Emma’s body and led her out of the dig. The girl breathing fresh air, even though it was way after dark.
Two long hours later Emma Cline was genuinely ‘free’. The last loop cut into three segments lying on the workshop table. She picked up the bit marked ‘Emma’ and briefly kissed it before Tony brought in a suitcase and his wife went alone next door and dressed herself into… well something a little less revealing!
Fatima Feroz held Emma’s robe and cradling it to her face with a sigh as the girl returned. Rashid saw this and grinned, his wife starting to blush and she turned away. Mrs Cline taking it from the lady, folding it carefully then ‘presenting’ it with a bow. Feroz saw a look pass between them then the ladies hugged again. The Egyptian’s wife looked to her man and he nodded. An embarrassed smile on Fatima’s face then they all laughed as she went red.
She tucked it into a bag then suggested it was time they went home. Cline looked at his watch and winced. Nearly 10pm now and he guessed the hotel ought to be told they were going to be very late. He asked Feroz to call them and the man did, but during the conversation Tony realised something was wrong. Rashid jabbering away then he nodded, seeing Fatima too appeared to be agreeing with him as the call ended.
“They thought you were not coming, especially as most of the other guests couldn’t get there either because of the accident.” The two Britons looked puzzled before he explained “Sorry Tony, but a container ship broke free from its moorings and hit your boat, splitting it in two! It’s OK, nobody got killed as the tour hadn’t started receiving guests. The crew is fine too. Some a bit wet, as they had to dive off the back. But it means no vessel, as the company only have the two and the second is up river.”
Emma looked disconsolate now, only cheering slightly as the Feroz’s invited them to remain at the house as their guests. Cline didn’t want to impose but it was Fatima who insisted. Rashid going along with it, though he did laugh and asked Emma’ if she’d like to return to her sarcophagus instead!
That cracked everyone up and they departed, getting to the Feroz apartment just after midnight. Rashid saying he hoped that they would stay the weekend… as he wanted a longer look at the extra bits at Neen-Al Tudlobry. Now he had the ‘experts’ he hoped more interesting artifacts would appear. Tony looked at his wife and she glowed, the girl intending to be more honest and reveal the existance of the storeroom.
So that was agreed and on the Friday afternoon the Professor and both Clines’ returned. Fatima was at work so was unable to come. “Some of us have proper jobs. Unlike you three playing games,” she’d said with a twinkle when they’d prepared to depart. A great day was had; Rashid astonished as he saw the storeroom then asked what else they knew about. Slightly dismayed to find this was ‘it’. As far as the couple had got. “However,” Tony said. “We’re not due to be back in Cairo for six days. If you want, as the cruise is off we’ll do some exploring until then. Get all these documented as well, yes?” Pointing to the hieroglyphics on the wall.
Rashid Feroz was delighted, agreeing to that so everyone went back to Cairo where Fatima was told of the plans. Mrs Feroz taking Emma off to go food and supply shopping for the British pair. She was still amazed at what Mrs Cline had endured and they had a ‘girlie’ chat about what it had all been about. Emma finding out that her host had a wonderful sense of humour and they’d enjoy their day out together.
A dinner for four at a local restaurant then back to their place. Emma and Tony sitting outside late on as the others had retired early. Going past the couple’s bedroom to use a bathroom Mrs Cline couldn’t help listening. Returning to her own she saw her hubby and slyly grinned.
“I think Fatima’s getting full use of my ‘robe’” she murmured.
Sunday saw them departing Cairo. Hugs and kisses all round before Tony drove his wife away. The pair now armed with enough stuff to last the week, but also official permits and translated documents from Rashid’s office allowing them to be there too. “I wasn’t able to speak to the police but show them these and you’ll be alright. Good luck… and don’t get stuck again!” he joked and they all laughed at that.
The rest of the day the couple worked hard in the room. All the hieroglyphics were photographed and e-mailed to Rashid. Getting a ‘well-done’ in return. They had dinner in the open, sitting outside looking up at the stars once the sun had vanished. “You know Tony, I really thought my time had come, will not happen again,” Emma said cuddling him. Turning in later on he came to the dormitory to see his wife dressed in…
“Might have guessed. You’ve been waiting all day to get into one of those haven’t you Mrs?” he grinned. Emma now blushing as she sat on the bed waiting for Tony’s wandering hands that were heading towards her breasts.
Monday dawned cool and clear so after breakfast Emma dressed conservatively in her blue maxi-dress, this time without the jacket. Trainers applied and Tony had nodded in approval. Now she was striding towards the dig entrance long after lunch when she heard a jeep coming along the track. It drove right up to her and two policemen got out. Promptly grabbing the girl and naturally Emma screamed as they started yelling at her. When she didn’t reply one of the men slapped her hard across the face and she fell backwards and tumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust.
Tony heard the commotion and hurried up the passageway, emerging to see his wife being handcuffed then dragged to the jeep and hurled against the side. Shouting at the cops to stop he advanced. Only for one of them to draw a pistol, ordering him in Arabic to raise his hands. Well, the gesture appeared to be that so Cline obeyed. The driver now got out, obviously the senior man and it was Tony’s turn to get the treatment. Of course being a physically imposing specimen he too was cuffed before the couple were led to the dormitory. The policemen seeing the footprints leading to and from the building and knowing where any other people might be found.
Both Britons were told to sit down. Emma looking very scared as she was ‘dusted off’ by wandering hands then she was helped to a chair by the two smirking young officers. Her cuffs digging into the wrists and she was already worried about nerve damage as they were far too tightly applied.
Cline did his best. Indicating where Feroz’s permits were and one of the men grabbed the file. Leafing through them and muttering something to the boss. He shrugged and nodded. To their relief both sets of cuffs were removed and the pair allowed sitting next to the other. Emma’s hands being cradled by her husband. Mainly to stop them seeing how frightened they both were. A bottle of water appeared and was tossed across. Cline’s great reactions preventing it striking his wife’s face as she recoiled.
The language barrier was an obvious problem. Neither of the Clines spoke Arabic and if their captors knew English then they were not letting on as they rabid on for ages. The chief was getting cross now and eventually pointed to them, then the door and Tony guessed this might mean trouble. Emma stared in shock at the gesture to stand up then put her arms behind. Slowly doing so then the officers produced their handcuffs. She made to move towards Tony for protection but a loud command made her freeze.
Emma trembled as the cuffs were applied, wincing, as again they were too tight before he pointed to the door and she was led outside. Tony stood helpless as she vanished, hearing her start to cry before her footsteps had faded. A loud squeal of ‘No!’ made him glare at the boss… who drew his own pistol and cocked it!
One man returned… smiling and jabbering to the boss. Who now grinned then Tony was led out, the guy surprised not to have been cuffed. To see only the jeep and their own. No sign of his wife and he turned, getting angry now.
“Where is she?” he stormed. Itching to go to the police vehicle, as she must be in the blacked out back. But he was forced at gunpoint by the boss to get into the driver’s seat of their own jeep then indications were that he was to lead, the others would follow.
Emma was terrified as she’d been bundled into the vehicle and made to sit on the bench. One of the men followed and Mrs Cline shook as he grabbed more cuffs and her ankles were secured together. Another set was applied to a strut below the wooden slats and it’s other loop attached to her restraints between those trembling legs. Pinning her into position. A shout to his mate getting in up front and the driver fired up the engine. She didn’t hear Tony at first then his voice, making her smile briefly before a slap wiped that off her face. Emma made to kick him, only to gasp as the cuffs did their job, digging into her skin and she yelped. A wagging finger from the smirking officer made it worse.
Away they roared. Emma trying desperately to hang on, grabbing the slats as the driver tried to keep up with Tony and once more Em wished he wasn’t trying to be a rally-driver. At one point she almost slid off the bench. Only the officer’s hands grabbing her torso stopped Mrs Cline doing that. Of course it gave him an opportunity for a grope too and Emma squealed, making the Egyptians laugh. A barrage of chatter flying between them, before the driver said something in English!
“We’ll see you alright Mrs… ” then laughed in a way that made the girl shiver…
Emma was shocked; launching into a right rant, going on for a few minutes as the pair just grinned at her. Making Mrs Cline furious now. She threatened to tell their boss what they’d done to her while he was out of view. The one in the back stuck his face close to hers.
“We haven’t done anything to you,” her captor grinned… “Yet.”
She lost control now. Aiming a head-butt that only just missed as he ducked back. That was a serious miscalculation on her part. More jabbering as he leaned against the partition at the front then said something sharp to his mate.
The driver stood hard on the brakes and no way could Emma Cline hold on. Launching forward she tumbled off the bench smacking headfirst into the divider. The anklecuffs digging harshly into her legs and Emma screamed. Shaking her head at the blow and falling to the floor as he accelerated again. The guy in the back moved swiftly now as she rolled about face down, unable to help herself get up.
He unlocked the cuff from the strut and tugged upwards. Emma’s feet lifting before he pulled forward and bent her legs towards the wrists. Easing the loop around and relocking it in a hog-tie. Now Mrs Cline panicked before her chin was grabbed and he shoved an oily rag in there, wrapping another over the top as Emma went berserk.
This was intolerable but there was precious little she could do except scream. But like Abdul it just seemed to be spurring her assailant on. He laughed to his mate, the driver turning to look and that was SO frightening as the jeep swerved and wobbled over the road.
Now she quietened down, hoping this would be enough but young policeman had other ideas for pretty foreign lady. She had things he and Rasul, his mate upfront didn’t. Lifting underneath Emma’s armpits he hauled the girl up onto her knees then forced Mrs Cline back onto her haunches, facing the front away from him. NOW he could get to work.
Unzipping Emma’s dress, ignoring her frantic squeals as she realised this was only the start of some serious abuse. He eased the shoulder straps down over her arms, pinning them to her torso. Revealing the lacy black bra and the twin treasures it contained. Deftly that too was undone and her perfect 36C’s were laid bare for them to ogle. The driver guffawing as his buddy placed both hands and squeezed.
Emma screamed now as he manipulated them, the driver saying something to him. Pointing to the traffic that was building rapidly in front as they came down the valley into Cairo. The earlier braking had already seen Tony and the boss pulling away and it seemed these two bastards were in no rush to get to the station as he laughed in reply.
Mrs Cline would later describe this as ‘Traffic Tit Torment’ as she was fondled in time to the movement of the jeep. Any left turn and that breast would be grabbed. Go right and the other would get it. Braking or acceleration would get both nipples pinched and the girl was soon in agony, not knowing they’d been past the Police station at least three times already!
Eventually he tired of this and she was roughly redressed. A sigh followed by a squeal as he let go, pushing Emma forward and her body slammed into the floor, banging the side of her face as she tried to brace for the impact.
She was relieved when they pulled through an armoured gate and the jeep parked up. The door opened and her tormentor undid her leg cuffs then dragged Emma out. Marching her past a bunch of his mates, playfully slapping away at least two wandering hands that reached towards her. Arriving in what she assumed was the custody area of course her first intention was looking for Tony as she was made to stand in the corner.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Going out with a Bang</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/going-out-with-a-bang/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/going-out-with-a-bang/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;This is one that I wrote for Vicki at Necrobabes
but they haven&amp;rsquo;t updated their text stories for ages so if you like it,
go right ahead.  I don&amp;rsquo;t know if you&amp;rsquo;re into the concept of crossing
the line, as opposed to just flirting with it, but this has plenty of latex
and bondage to keep you happy.
Enjoy/Hazard..&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I told him, I have no regrets.  The chaplain. 
He was just here again.  Wanting me to repent, to save my soul.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sisterly Curator</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/sisterly-curator/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/sisterly-curator/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It had been a slow day at work, but not unusual for a Friday, as people tend to leave any IT problems on Friday afternoon until Monday. Today had been particularly slow at the office. I had given the guys an early afternoon at 16:30 so they had an extra hour for their weekend, and was sat alone in the office just in case a customer phoned in late.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I checked my e-mail one last time before closing down the PC&amp;rsquo;s and doing the rounds, shutting windows and blinds, closing the office doors, quick tidy up of the work bench and then off out the main door setting the alarm and locking the main door. This weekend was a long one as the Monday following was a bank holiday, for which we are closed. I double checked the main door and walked to the car. On the way I heard my phone ping telling me I had a text message.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Great Marvolo Part 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-great-marvolo-part-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-great-marvolo-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="thegreatmarvolo.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Great Marvolo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Author&amp;rsquo;s Note: Thanks to &lt;strong&gt;Jennifer Harrison&lt;/strong&gt; for her assistance, and for letting me read her great-great grandmother&amp;rsquo;s diary.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When I heard the Inspector say, &amp;ldquo;You are under arrest&amp;rdquo; I was momentarily shocked into immobility. Then I jumped to my feet, but before I could move the policeman pulled my arms behind my back and the Inspector locked handcuffs on my wrists. As I was dragged to the door I shouted, &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;m innocent! You must believe that, Lady Agnes!&amp;rdquo; Then I was hustled outside and down the corridor. If she replied I did not hear her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;There were several work camps out of state for first time young adult offenders, a kind of &amp;ldquo;tough love&amp;rdquo; approach between the juvenile justice system and real prison. This was after all the late nineteen thirties, and the science of criminal justice and punishment had come a long way in the cities since the early days, allowing for this and other experimental programs to exist. There were disturbing rumors about these places though, unorthodox practices that none the less produced a near zero rate of recidivism, provided the young offenders were not released back into the same environment that produced them in the first place. Society seemed to benefit as a whole, and the offenders were statistically never heard from again.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="investigativereporter.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Investigative Reporter&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Beth heard the men climb into the wagon, but she dared not look back. The driver took up the slack in her reins and shook them sharply moments later, it wasn&amp;rsquo;t a violent motion so much as a precise one, but one he apparently didn&amp;rsquo;t want her to misunderstand either. An equally sharp &amp;ldquo;get along&amp;rdquo; was commanded at the same time, and with the earlier warning of the driver fresh in her mind she pulled forward.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter 3: Discoveries</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-3-discoveries/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-3-discoveries/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="investigativereporter2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Investigative Reporter 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: Discoveries&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The formerly sleepy girl, Tracy, and Beth hung breast to breast as the others ate, but a missed meal was far better than the alternative, thanks entirely to their drivers mercy. They were released from their suspended display and hitched to the plow after the others finished their morning meal, and the team was driven to the far corner of the farm to begin their first true day of work. Tracy had to work barefoot that day, apparently an additional part of her punishment was not being allowed to fetch her boots from their bunk house. It was a lesson she wouldn&amp;rsquo;t easily forget.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter 4: Observations</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-4-observations/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-4-observations/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="investigativereporter3.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Investigative Reporter 3: Discoveries&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 4: Observations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;As both Tracy and Beth were still entwined with each other, Tracy became aware of an audience. Several of the girls had risen to see what was still happening on top of their common table with all the noise the girls had generated, and one of the girls rubbed Tracy&amp;rsquo;s head roughly as she recovered from her exhausting orgasm while still atop Beth. The smiling girl stated the obvious for her watching friends, &amp;ldquo;Now we apparently have two play toys&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter 5: Escape Plan</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-5-escape-plan/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-5-escape-plan/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="investigativereporter4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Investigative Reporter 4: Observations&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 5: Escape Plan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If nothing else, Beth thought at least the evil wife was consistent. The team was once again in the fields, but this time pulling the heavy disc through some of the less desirable fields of Grandview&amp;rsquo;s many holdings. It was hard work, and only reserved for the stronger teams, and by lunch time the girls were feeling the burn in their muscles.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Investigative Reporter 6: The Price Of Freedom, part 1</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-6-the-price-of-freedom-part-1/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-investigative-reporter-6-the-price-of-freedom-part-1/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="investigativereporter5.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Investigative Reporter 5: Escape Plan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 6: The Price Of Freedom, part 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The days after Beth&amp;rsquo;s liberating run to the train station were possibly her worst at Grandview. A surprise bunkhouse inspection after the girls assembled for the morning led to the discovery of the pencil she had hidden at the train station, still covered in the dirt she had stuck it into, and impossible to be where it allegedly was found without another&amp;rsquo;s involvement. Potentially the entire bunkhouse was in trouble, but somebody was sending a personal message to her, and she guessed that man was a smoker!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>