<?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>Suspect on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/suspect/</link><description>Recent content in Suspect on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Mon, 11 Jun 2018 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/suspect/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Detectives And The Dominatrix</title><link>/stories/2018/06/11/the-detectives-and-the-dominatrix/</link><pubDate>Mon, 11 Jun 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/06/11/the-detectives-and-the-dominatrix/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Story continued from &lt;a href="detectivesandthedominatrix2.html"&gt;part two&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 3: Is This Heaven?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Everything is black, but very calm, very quiet, there is no pain. He feels as if he’s floating. Who, what said that? Something wet is on his lips, he hears a voice, a familiar voice. Leave me alone, I’m comfortable like this. He feels a slap on his face, then another, really hard, and then a pump on his chest and then another, and air is pumped into him, sweet air. Stars are in front of his face, he coughs, wretches, coughs again, and rolls over on his side. Now the pain in his chest begins. He opens his eyes, where is he?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>