<?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>D Carroll on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/d-carroll/</link><description>Recent content in D Carroll on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><atom:link href="/authors/d-carroll/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Bed &amp; Bondage</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/bed-bondage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/bed-bondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The room is warm, almost too warm. I am slightly damp from perspiration,
and the occasional draft makes me shiver. The room is filled with a warm, diffuse light, sunlight through heavy
lace curtains, giving the place an antique feel. The air smells of potpourri,
mingled with red wine and musk.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;My eyes travel lazily along the ceiling, until they reach the far wall,
where a full-length mirror stands across from the foot of the bed, tilted
slightly forward in its heavy oak frame. The image staring back at me from
the mirror commands my attention: a exquisite brass four-poster bed, and
on it a beautiful woman, naked, her arms stretched tautly over her head,
and her legs reaching out toward the posts at the foot of the bed.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>