<?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>MM-Ffff on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/mm-ffff/</link><description>Recent content in MM-Ffff on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:46 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/mm-ffff/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Traditional Ceremony 2</title><link>/stories/2003/07/01/traditional-ceremony-2/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2003 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2003/07/01/traditional-ceremony-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="traditional_ceremony.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Traditional Ceremony&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;_Traditional Ceremony&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Part Two
by Zack
Traditional Ceremony by Zack_&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The wagon carrying the captives had been plodding along for a several
hours, most of the time traveling on rutted narrow roads cut through woodlands.
The two men sat on the seat, and the leader stayed in the back near the
tailgate, alternating between watching the back trail and guarding the
captives. Finally the wagon stopped near a side door of a large hunting
lodge deep in a forest. It had been a stressful trip for the bound women;
the tight hogties quickly became very painful, and the unsprung wagon bed
transmitted every bump in the road directly into their immobile bodies.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Traditional Ceremony</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/traditional-ceremony/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/traditional-ceremony/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Traditional Ceremony&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;Part One
by Zack
Traditional Ceremony by Zack
The Amalgamation Survey Ship Interloper moved in a synchronous orbit
above Gamma, the third planet of star P314159264.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lieutenant Pami Erig, the bravest field surveyor in the Star Fleet Survey
Service, was running for her life. She was also cursing her bad luck. She
had been waiting for night in her carefully concealed camp when a call
of nature made her move into some nearby bushes. Too late, she saw a group
of at least thirty savages moving quietly down a dry stream bed less than
50 meters from where she was squatting. Even then she would have probably
escaped detection, but one of the warriors, evidently answering his own
call, moved directly toward her. She froze, hoping that he wouldn&amp;rsquo;t see
her, but the bush she was crouching behind was thin and had small, sparse
leaves. She muttered to herself, &amp;ldquo;I knew I should have chosen the jungle
planet.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>