<?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>Salt on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/salt/</link><description>Recent content in Salt on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 08 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/salt/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Discovery</title><link>/stories/2019/03/08/discovery/</link><pubDate>Fri, 08 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/03/08/discovery/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="part-1-a-ritual-cleansing"&gt;Part 1: A Ritual Cleansing&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Ah, coming around, are you dear?” a honeyed voice cooed. I almost thought I knew the voice, but couldn’t quite place it. “Yes, I know it’s not very comfortable for you,” she continued sympathetically, “but that’s part of the scene isn’t it?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Scene? What was that supposed mean?  I continued to feign unconscious while I tried to take stock of my situation. From the motion, the uncomfortable hump beneath me and the woman’s voice above, I was fairly certain I was on the backseat floorboard of a car. I thought it must be a very nice car, since the road noise was almost imperceptible and there was a fair amount of floor space. There was a thick ball of fabric in my mouth with the ends tied securely behind my head, and my hands seemed to be bound behind my back with a soft rope. I waited for the car to hit a bump and used the sudden lurch to disguise my attempt at pulling my hands free. The rope held firm and a sudden strain on my ankles told me I was in a hogtied position.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>