<?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>Tasks on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/tasks/</link><description>Recent content in Tasks on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Thu, 23 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/tasks/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Return to the Doll House</title><link>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house/</link><pubDate>Thu, 23 Feb 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/02/23/return-to-the-doll-house/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Copyright © 2015, 2016 AmyAmy and all that stuff. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced for profit or without this attribution. The following story contains fantastical elements, and may not make a lot of sense unless you’ve read my earlier story &lt;a href="../storiesad/doll_hotel01.html"&gt;The Doll Hotel&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="../storiesad/doll_hotel01.html"&gt;.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Part One&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Number Twenty sighed, breath hissing through the nostrils of her mask. There was no opening for her mouth and the air that came through the nose-holes was restricted. A little extra leaked through the eyes, as long as she wasn’t blindfolded. There was no jaw-stretching gag or head-crushing pressure, so by maid standards, it wasn’t a difficult mask, just day-to-day wear.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>It's Fricken Freezing in Here Mr. Bigglesworth</title><link>/stories/2014/05/11/its-fricken-freezing-in-here-mr.-bigglesworth/</link><pubDate>Sun, 11 May 2014 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2014/05/11/its-fricken-freezing-in-here-mr.-bigglesworth/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;A Sirius and Tonya Adventure&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Hey! Guess what?” Tonya was talking before she was in the room. “Guess, guess, guess!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“No” Sirius was not amused.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“No? …. You have to guess.” She was beginning to get pouty.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“You want to adventure” Sirius flatly replied.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“No silly. I want to … heeeyyy. You weren’t supposed to know.” She sounded genuinely disappointed and got a little poutier.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“You always want to adventure, what else is new?” Sirius had a wry smile behind her monotone response. She knew Tonya always wanted an adventure, but this time, Sirius had a different plan. “So kiddo, what’s your crazy idea this time?”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Dust</title><link>/stories/2012/06/09/dust/</link><pubDate>Sat, 09 Jun 2012 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2012/06/09/dust/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;this followed on from the &lt;a href="../storieslr/miles.html"&gt;Miles stories&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Susan’s plan for the evening was simply to watch some TV.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well, it wasn’t quite as simple as that because lately Susan rarely did anything as mundane as watching TV without adding something to the experience. So what she added this time was a hogtie. She lay quietly on the floor in front of her couch, dressed in a pair of shorts and a sports bra, with her hands and feet chained together and connected behind her back. It wasn’t a tight hogtie, just a rather comfortable one, and she had been like this for a couple of hours by the time her phone rang.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>