<?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>Service on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/service/</link><description>Recent content in Service 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/service/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Weekend Maid</title><link>/stories/2018/05/22/weekend-maid/</link><pubDate>Tue, 22 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/22/weekend-maid/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="weekendmaid7.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weekend Maid Part 7&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 8: Service Guy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The evening came and the family gathered for their evening meal, this was again prepared and served by Jessie, she seemed to be the favoured Maid-bot when it came to cooking, the other maid-bots prepared food tasted bland when compared to Jessie’s. Maybe it was because of her desire to please the family, or that she had some control over what she was cooking and preparing, either way the system had picked up on the family’s contentment at the food the maid-bot prepared, or maybe it was because each desired Jessie/maid-bot in their own way.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Weekend Maid</title><link>/stories/2018/05/22/weekend-maid/</link><pubDate>Tue, 22 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/22/weekend-maid/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;story continues from &lt;a href="weekendmaid7.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Weekend Maid Part 7&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 8: Service Guy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The evening came and the family gathered for their evening meal, this was again prepared and served by Jessie, she seemed to be the favoured Maid-bot when it came to cooking, the other maid-bots prepared food tasted bland when compared to Jessie’s. Maybe it was because of her desire to please the family, or that she had some control over what she was cooking and preparing, either way the system had picked up on the family’s contentment at the food the maid-bot prepared, or maybe it was because each desired Jessie/maid-bot in their own way.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jenny</title><link>/stories/2017/12/13/jenny/</link><pubDate>Wed, 13 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/12/13/jenny/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I was working one day under a truck when I heard a woman’s voice, it’s very seldom that I hear a woman actually in the shop. I couldn’t see who was talking but listening I could tell she was a real estate agent. The building’s owner was attempting to sell the property so obnoxious sales people had become common even causing some harsh words between employees and careless agents. I tried to ignore the intrusion continuing to work until I heard my name being called by the female voice. It took three times before I realized she was talking to me and I looked at the attractive woman standing in the front of the rack I was under.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Grave Decision</title><link>/stories/2017/01/28/the-grave-decision/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/01/28/the-grave-decision/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;WARNING
Do &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; try this at home, the story is presented here as a &lt;strong&gt;fantasy only&lt;/strong&gt;,
to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: The Grave Request&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The topic came up in conversation, late one night after we had finished watching an old horror movie, the subject of being buried alive. Brandi told me that if I didn’t laugh at her, she would tell me her secret fantasy. I agreed not to laugh or make fun of her, so she told me her darkest desire. After she told me what she had dreamed of for so long. I finally said &amp;ldquo;So you really want to be buried alive, forever&amp;rdquo;?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Grave Decision</title><link>/stories/2016/07/03/the-grave-decision/</link><pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2016/07/03/the-grave-decision/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 1: The Grave Request&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The topic came up in conversation, late one night after we had finished watching an old horror movie, the subject of being buried alive. Brandi told me that if I didn’t laugh at her, she would tell me her secret fantasy. I agreed not to laugh or make fun of her, so she told me her darkest desire. After she told me what she had dreamed of for so long. I finally said &amp;ldquo;So you really want to be buried alive, forever&amp;rdquo;?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Journey 3: The Final Decision</title><link>/stories/2014/10/03/my-journey-3-the-final-decision/</link><pubDate>Fri, 03 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/10/03/my-journey-3-the-final-decision/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="myjourney2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Journey 2: Ten days later&amp;hellip;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 3: The Final Decision&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;When I woke up, it took me a little while to figure out where I was and what had happened to me. I did notice that I was not wearing anything other than my lingerie, meaning that at some time, Mistress and her husband had removed my clothing. The chastity device was still on my cock but the dildo, as I realized, was no longer inside me.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Normal Day for SlaveF</title><link>/stories/2014/04/24/a-normal-day-for-slavef/</link><pubDate>Thu, 24 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/04/24/a-normal-day-for-slavef/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Here is my fantasy, my idea, ( my desire???) my story, I hope you like&amp;hellip; and&amp;hellip; sorry for my bad english ( I am italian)&amp;hellip; hope not too many mistakes, please let me know what you thought of my story.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A normal day for slave Francesco, the alarm clock ring at 6.30am&amp;hellip; as usual! Slave got out of bed went to the bathroom to shave and wash and do his needs. He wore a plastic chastity belt that allowed him to piss. He was naked with the exception of leather collar, and leather bracelets for wrists and ankles.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Further Training of 'S' 8: Serving Maid</title><link>/stories/2011/01/12/the-further-training-of-s-8-serving-maid/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/12/the-further-training-of-s-8-serving-maid/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="further_trainingofs07.html"&gt;part 7&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 8: Serving Maid&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘S’ awoke and was aware only of the warm cling of the heavy latex sheet which covered her suited form. She was in darkness and her mouth was filled with the breath through gag. She had come to love the feeling of the gag and now felt naked without it fitted. She pulled her hands up and felt her slave collar and chain which was fixed each time she was put to bed. She felt a pang of pure love for her condition as a latex slave. She lay quietly reflecting on the incredible change that had occurred since she had met and fallen in love with her Master. She was following her destiny and was totally fulfilled in knowing now that she was undergoing advanced training and was apart from the one misdemeanour progressing well in the eyes of the Mistress.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Further Training of 'S' 9: Serving the Guests</title><link>/stories/2011/01/12/the-further-training-of-s-9-serving-the-guests/</link><pubDate>Wed, 12 Jan 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/01/12/the-further-training-of-s-9-serving-the-guests/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="further_trainingofs08.html"&gt;part 8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 9: Serving the Guests&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a weary ‘S’ who climbed the stairs from the hot kitchen having spent endless hours there being made to do various preparations for the forth coming gathering. The House keeper had kept her busy for the entire duration. As ‘S’ made her way up the stairs she reflected on her position as a serving maid. Each step forced her to exert herself; the rubber encapsulation together with the inverted ‘U’ leg irons restricting her every movement. She was streaming under her layers of latex and steel; the aroma of latex escaping from her garments was sucked into the nose openings of her helmet where the torment of sexual excitement began for the ‘nth’ time she inhaled deeply wanting the pleasure of the rebreathing bag to stimulate her further. Although tired she did never the less want the subtle torment of her containment to continue. The deep intruders at back and front reminded her that she was under the complete control of another; she was the rubberised object of their control, she had no choice or say her only purpose to serve to her best ability. She felt a deep sense of pride and of longing for the extremes of her servitude to be exhibited to the whole world. She felt proud of herself and wanted to make her Master and Mistress pleased with her also.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Super Custom Locks</title><link>/stories/2007/10/26/super-custom-locks/</link><pubDate>Fri, 26 Oct 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/10/26/super-custom-locks/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Welcome to Super Custom Locks. This is Roy.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Yes, sir, we have a range of sizes and lengths. Is there a specific shape padlock you need?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Well, what will it be for?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;So the U of the shackle needs to be about 2 inches wide, but only an inch high. I think we&amp;rsquo;ve got something like that. Why don&amp;rsquo;t you come in and have a
look?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Okay, thanks. Have a nice day.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>FutureCom's New Barista</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/futurecoms-new-barista/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/futurecoms-new-barista/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Clara&amp;rsquo;s brow furrowed slightly as she answered the questions on the touch screen in front of her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Have you had any children? – No.
Are you on any hormonal birth control? - No
Do you live alone? - Yes
Any family or siblings? - No siblings.  Parents passed when she was a teenager.
Do you have any piercings or body modifications? - No
Have you had any severe injuries or surgeries? – No
Any fears or phobias? – Can’t think of any.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ms Westbury's Niece</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/ms-westburys-niece/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/ms-westburys-niece/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part One&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Ms Westbury sat at her large desk set in the bay window looking out over the garden. Light fell on the face of her visitor.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“So, Ms Sinclair, why are you applying for this position?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Cecilia looked down at her hands when she replied. “Well, Ms Westbury, I think that I would be very good at it.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Ms Westbury gave a slight cough, as much as to say, ‘perhaps’, and stared at her. Cecilia met her gaze for a moment, before looking down again.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ms Westbury's Niece 2: Secrets</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/ms-westburys-niece-2-secrets/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/ms-westburys-niece-2-secrets/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="mswestburysniece.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ms Westbury&amp;rsquo;s Niece&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two: Secrets&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 4&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The house was large, even rambling. Cecilia judged that it must have been built in the early years of the twentieth or late nineteenth century.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;‘Before the first World war, when they had loads of servants to keep it all in order’, she thought as she ran over in her mind the long list of jobs that she needed to do before Ms Westbury arrived home.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ms Westbury's Niece 3: France</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/ms-westburys-niece-3-france/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/ms-westburys-niece-3-france/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="mswestburysniece2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ms Westbury&amp;rsquo;s Niece 2: Secrets&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Three: France&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Chapter 7&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;For the next few days the letter played on Ms Westbury’s mind. She was usually grumpy and Cecilia, redoubling her efforts to do everything to perfection, studiously avoided the subject. Eventually it got too much for her. Taking morning coffee to the study she noticed the letter was again on the desk. Ms Westbury had pushed back her chair and was staring up at the ceiling wrapped in thought. Cecilia put down the tray and began to pour. Ms Westbury came back from her reveries.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Journey</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/my-journey/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/my-journey/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I can remember those care free days of my youth, when I was just a kid playing dress-up. Of course, playing dress up as a guy putting on my mother&amp;rsquo;s underwear and actually ENJOYING it was and still is slightly frowned upon in the “vanilla” world. And I have to admit that I started rather young, as we all seem to do, at a ripe age of about 10. Of course, it was not very often, since I did have to go to school and had a baby-sitter. But there were those times.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>My Journey 2: Ten days later...</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/my-journey-2-ten-days-later.../</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/my-journey-2-ten-days-later.../</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="myjourney.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Journey&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part 2: Ten days later&amp;hellip;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was a good thing that I had work to keep me occupied. It left me less time to worry about what I was going to do and whether or not I would be willing to wear a chastity device. A small part of me was worried and yet, there was that little voice actually telling me that maybe by wearing the device, I would actually start to feel those feelings that I had WANTED to feel. All I knew is that I was gradually getting more and more curious about all of it and finally decided that I would NEED to see her again.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sci-Fi Club Part 3</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/sci-fi-club-part-3/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/sci-fi-club-part-3/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="scifi_club2.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sci-Fi Club Part 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)_&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;In two weeks, Katie would be married. She loved Danny, and she knew that while the club gave her good times, Danny made her happy in the long run. She thought this as she waited in line at Sci-Club-Fi.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;You see, since Katie was to be married in two weeks, she wanted her one last fling. It was like her own private bachlorette party in her mind.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Guiding Hand 8: The Understanding of Pink</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand-8-the-understanding-of-pink/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand-8-the-understanding-of-pink/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="guidinghand7.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Guiding Hand7: Latex and Leather&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Continued from &lt;a href="guidinghand7.html"&gt;part seven&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 8: The Understanding of Pink.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Andy, took a breath, the memory of the last time he had entered a fetish fashion shop filling his mind. But those images faded to a strange excitement as, with one squeeze from Janes hand, the door buzzed open and they entered the shop. Instantly the aroma of rubber filled Andy&amp;rsquo;s nose, it was everywhere, warm moist and clinging, double, triple, no infinitely stronger than the aroma which drifted from the wardrobe housing his own tiny dress collection .&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Guiding Hand5: A New Admirer</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand5-a-new-admirer/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand5-a-new-admirer/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="guidinghand4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Guiding Hand4: The Sunny Seats&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Continued from &lt;a href="guidinghand4.html"&gt;part four&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 5: A New Admirer.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He did not awake with a start, but he did awake with a dampness. The dream clear and vivid in his mind. He heard Jane moving about downstairs and as swiftly as he could slipped from then bed and into the bathroom.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Minutes later a voice, came over the hiss of the shower.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Good boy Andy”, It was Jane, he could see her perfect silhouette beyond the frosted glass. “20 minutes no longer. In my room”.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Guiding Hand6: Lessons to be Learnt</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand6-lessons-to-be-learnt/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand6-lessons-to-be-learnt/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="guidinghand5.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Guiding Hand5: A New Admirer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Continued from &lt;a href="guidinghand5.html"&gt;part five&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 6: Lessons to be Learnt.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Andy gazed out of the conservatory window, his fingers massaging his poor, high heel tormented, foot. Not he was intent on the pain, no his mind was elsewhere. To be precise it was on the dream he had that night. Again it was of Jane, the beautiful intoxicating Lady Jane, she was a constant part of his nights now, but this dream was so vivid and so wonderful he wished it true. In fact he had been told as a boy, that if you speak of your dream before breakfast it will come true. So he had, to himself as he showered, he had told himself of the dream.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Guiding Hand7: Latex and Leather</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand7-latex-and-leather/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-guiding-hand7-latex-and-leather/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="guidinghand6.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Guiding Hand6: Lessons to be Learnt&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Continued from &lt;a href="guidinghand6.html"&gt;part six&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 7: Latex and Leather.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Naked beneath the cream robe, Jane sat in the sun and as she did, the garden laid out before her, the faint trail of aeroplanes in the blue sky, she watched with pride as her new maid, came to her call. For a moment as Andy stepped from the kitchen door out onto the sun lit terrace, Jane thought him to be dressed in nothing but syrup and oil, so smooth was his outfit, so deep the shine. However as he neared, with elegant steps atop those dangerous heels, the tell-tale crease and ripple of the latex revealed itself. They moved over his hips and stretched to reflect the light with each sway of the hip or turn of the knee.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>