Nickerlas on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Pandora's Box

Mon, 01 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000

I first met Seamus Kelly in the Student Union bar at Oxford University in England. He was Australian, from somewhere I’d never heard of called Paramatta, and was doing a post-graduate course in Elizabethan Drama. The name is Irish betraying his distant ancestry and pronounced Shamus, but you needn’t remember that as we instantly christened him Ned. He was a tall, tanned and flamboyant character whereas I was only middle height, thin, pale and wiry, but our preoccupations with girls and booze were very much in accord. My Traffic Engineering Masters was for the same two-year period and we ended up sharing an attic flat for our final year.

Delivery Boy

Sat, 24 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000

‘Hello?’

‘Hi Nick, its Tony. How are things?’

‘Broke, fucked, otherwise OK. And yourself? Haven’t seen you in ages.’

‘Much the same. Look, I’ve got a problem. Do you still have that old van?’

‘Sure. Its crap but it works. You want to borrow it?’

‘Hire it. And you, if that’s OK. I’ve got a rather valuable piece of furniture to deliver to an address in London and I need someone reliable to get it there.’

Power Over Men

Thu, 01 Jan 2004 00:00:00 +0000

Power Over Men by Nickerlas Jackie’s Surprise by Boundfellow I first wrote this story almost a decade ago and it acquired something of a cult following in S&M circles for a while, particularly among women. I even heard that a back-street workshop in Manchester was making saddle-stools!

Power Over Men by Nickerlas 1 Marble

Holiday clothes for a fortnight, typewriter, paper, sketchbook, walking boots, half the contents of the local Library – it all went into the back of the Traveller along with the jack, spare tyre, toolkit and starting handle. I closed the rear doors with a cheerful air of achievement. The old car started reliably first go, so I jammed on a pair of sunglasses, chucked my leather jacket into the back seat and let in the clutch. The car is important to this story, so I’d better describe it. I once saw a clip of Dame Edna Everidge walking round Stratford-upon-Avon admiring the half-timbered buildings, when a Morris Traveller pulled out of a side street. “Oh look, there’s a half-timbered car!” she chirruped. It was one of those, the ash-framed van version of the post-war Morris 1000. Mine was originally built in 1967 so was already an old lady when I bought her. Owners call them moggy or woody but I called mine Bertha and loved her dearly.

Walking the plank

Wed, 26 Mar 2003 00:00:00 +0000

Walking the Plank by Nickerlas Walking the Plank by Nickerlas I couldn’t see much through the open zipper in the front of the leather mask, and I couldn’t push the branches out of my way as my wrists were firmly tied behind my back. Chum was guiding me along the forest path with a strong grip on my arm, all the while filming our progress on his digital. Apart from sandals and the mask I was stark naked.

A Lot of Bull