<?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>Packing Crate on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/packing-crate/</link><description>Recent content in Packing Crate 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/packing-crate/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>New Doll</title><link>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll/</link><pubDate>Fri, 19 Aug 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="new_doll2.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;“Right get this doll through to ‘cleaning and disinfecting’!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The words were ringing in my ears as I was transported with the other
dolls down to the cleaning and disinfecting area, I watched as my dollfriends
(one could hardly say girlfriends!) were each loaded in turn on the cleaning
station, on the two special nozzles, one in the front and one up the bum,
which would then cleaned the inside whilst sprays cleaned the outside.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>New Doll</title><link>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll/</link><pubDate>Fri, 19 Aug 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I didn’t remember even applying for the job, it was just one of those
vast numbers of adverts I had seen and applied for in the six months since
I had left school. But now I had an interview! OK I had had many interviews in the past, but they were all bottom of
the scrap heap type jobs – like MacDonald’s – and I had even failed to
get a job there. But this job actually looked good – now that I found the paperwork,
an office assistant – even I could do that! OK I wasn’t stupid, but I am
not a rocket scientist either!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>New Doll</title><link>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll/</link><pubDate>Fri, 19 Aug 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="new_doll1.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;It seemed like an age (well I did have the transit support up my arse!)
I sensed the loading bay doors being opened. I heard the general chit-chat
with the courier man, “Fifteen for you today Bob, twelve are next day before
niners” “And the others?” “Two are international, and the last is Monday
AM”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;They sorted the paperwork out. Then starting shifting us dolls, Us Dolls!!
– What was I thinking? Almost immediately I was frozen to the spot, crying
inside to myself with the realization. Then I felt the crate being moved,
my anal intruder slipping jerkily in and out of me as I was bounced across
the shop floor. I thought the wheeled trucks gave a smooth ride – apparently
not!&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>New Doll 3</title><link>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll-3/</link><pubDate>Fri, 19 Aug 2005 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2005/08/19/new-doll-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="new_doll2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Doll 2&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;“Right get this doll through to ‘cleaning and disinfecting’!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The words were ringing in my ears as I was transported with the other
dolls down to the cleaning and disinfecting area, I watched as my dollfriends 
(one could hardly say girlfriends!) were each loaded in turn on the cleaning
station, on the two special nozzles, one in the front and one up the bum,
which would then cleaned the inside whilst sprays cleaned the outside.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Protecting the Toys</title><link>/stories/2004/03/01/protecting-the-toys/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/01/protecting-the-toys/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I really enjoy my job.  I take care of women who are packaged and
delivered for a fun time in a hotel room, home, apartment, and sometimes
even an office.  I can’t think of a better job in the world. 
The women of Aman are all beautiful, sexy creatures.  Some are tall,
but most are petite; some of them have dark hair (actually, most of them
fall into that category as they are predominantly oriental), some are redheads,
and some are blondes.  And they are all luscious.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Package</title><link>/stories/2004/03/01/the-package/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2004/03/01/the-package/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Tom could not wait to open his package. It had been over a year to
get everything ready and now it stood in the middle of the room waiting
for him to open it.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You would never know it. But Tom was one of those people you would pass
by every day. Quiet, unassuming, middle class job. Single white male with
blond hair and hazel eyes. Not GQ cover material but you average middle
of the road type of guy. Joe average would be the best way to describe
him. You may have seen on a bus or in line at the bank. Passed him on the
hi-way with out a thought or a wave to him.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>New Doll</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/new-doll/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/new-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I didn’t remember even applying for the job, it was just one of those
vast numbers of adverts I had seen and applied for in the six months since
I had left school.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But now I had an interview!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;OK I had had many interviews in the past, but they were all bottom of
the scrap heap type jobs – like MacDonald’s – and I had even failed to
get a job there.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>New Doll 2</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/new-doll-2/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/new-doll-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="new_doll1.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Doll&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;It seemed like an age (well I did have the transit support up my arse!)
I sensed the loading bay doors being opened. I heard the general chit-chat
with the courier man, “Fifteen for you today Bob, twelve are next day before
niners” “And the others?” “Two are international, and the last is Monday
AM”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;They sorted the paperwork out. Then starting shifting us dolls, Us Dolls!!
– What was I thinking? Almost immediately I was frozen to the spot, crying
inside to myself with the realization. Then I felt the crate being moved,
my anal intruder slipping jerkily in and out of me as I was bounced across
the shop floor. I thought the wheeled trucks gave a smooth ride – apparently
not!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>