<?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>Lockbox on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/lockbox/</link><description>Recent content in Lockbox on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2018 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/lockbox/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Oh Shit!</title><link>/stories/2018/03/12/oh-shit/</link><pubDate>Mon, 12 Mar 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/03/12/oh-shit/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I&amp;rsquo;ve been wanting to write some more for this site, but haven&amp;rsquo;t had any
fantasies &amp;ldquo;stick out&amp;rdquo; in my mind like my previous stories.
This time, it may not be as well written, or as long as my previous stories&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;but this one is true.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a Wednesday evening - my hubs is flying out on a business trip to
come back on Saturday. I realize how stressed I&amp;rsquo;m feeling, and that I
really need a stress releaver - so what do I turn to - good old handcuffs
&amp;amp; chains. Little did I know that this time would end up teaching me a
lesson.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>