<?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>Nosbert on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/nosbert/</link><description>Recent content in Nosbert on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Mon, 03 Jun 2002 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/nosbert/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Sandy’s act of selfbondage</title><link>/stories/2002/06/03/sandys-act-of-selfbondage/</link><pubDate>Mon, 03 Jun 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/06/03/sandys-act-of-selfbondage/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;It was six o’clock that evening when I
arrived at Sandy’s flat. I was at least two hours early. Sandy opened the
door as far as the security chain would allow and looked a little surprised
to see me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Woody!” she exclaimed. “You’re early!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I just put on my best smile.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“You know me, always unpredictable,” I
told her.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sandy opened up the door and I looked
her up and down. Once more she was wearing just a dressing gown and had
a towel wrapped about her head, but as I embraced her in the doorway I
was relieved to discover that she had at least had time to dry herself
down this time. I had my travel bag with me. I tossed it into the room,
and it slid across the floor past Sandy’s bare feet. This time I had come
well prepared and had four sets of handcuffs and a truncheon packed.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>