The Erotic Adventures of Lady Penelope - Burning the Candle at Both Ends by Hklaw and Steve

THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF LADY PENELOPE: BURNING THE CANDLE AT BOTH ENDS

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward sat with her stylishly stiletto-shod feet up on a leather couch in a well-appointed office in the Mayfair section of London. It was a cliché, but she was here to see a therapist: one Dr. Emma Peale.

No, not that Emma Peel, but one who obviously had been quite attractive when she was younger. Now, at age 57, she was from dowdy, but she no longer cared enough to keep her brown hair in anything but a bun in the office, and her shoes had gone from stiletto heels to sensible flats since she turned 40. And it was usually pants now instead of skirts, although she wore a gray wool pencil skirt with a navy cardigan sweater on this day..

She was almost tempted to primp a bit for her sessions with Lady Penelope, which had become the highlight of her week since they began a little more than a month earlier. But she chose to keep things as professional as possible.

"The last time we left off you wanted to explore your bondage fetish," Dr. Peale said to Lady Penelope, barely hiding her anticipation. "If that is still the case, perhaps the best way to proceed would be for you to relate one or more, if you have them, incidents of this nature."

Lady Penelope had never done this before. Yes, there were written reports to International Rescue about some of her perils, but those were composed in a matter-of-fact style, often leaving out the most erotic details. No, talking about her feelings to another on such a personal level, well ... most people kept such thoughts locked away in the deepest, darkest recesses of their own mind.

She hesitated, but then remembered as she smoothed the front of her pink silk foulard cropped pants and adjusted her grey crewneck sweater: This was her idea and it was a non-judgmental and, more importantly, confidential session bound by doctor-patient privilege. Lady Penelope closed her eyes to concentrate and focus her thoughts, her mind already deciding on just a stream-of-consciousness re-telling, start to finish, leaving nothing out. But she would tell it with some detachment, as if she were merely a very interested observer and not a participant. She chose two perils and began with the one that occurred first as Dr. Peale listened closely.

*****

Pedestrian and trolley traffic was typically heavy on this morning near the Bahnhofstrasse, the main thoroughfare in Zurich. But the futuristic-looking pink car still stood out amongst the Audis, BMWs and Benzes in the heart of the city.

As the car whooshed to a stop at one end of the busy pedestrian promenade, its gull-wing doors began to open and the driver emerged quickly and efficiently to help the rear-seat passenger from the vehicle. The small, pug-like driver extended a gloved hand, which was met by the well-manicured hand of his employer.

"Mi Lady," the driver said as he bowed and helped her step onto the pavement.

"Thank you, Parker," a distinctly British and proper female voice replied.

The metal heel of a deep pink suede pump touched down on the pavement and was followed by a slim leg with a particularly shapely calf. As the woman turned in her seat to exit the car, the fringe of a pencil skirt emerged followed by another similarly-shod leg. The car's owner and occupant then stood and stepped forward onto the street in all her glory.

Scanning the young beauty from the ground up, her stylish shoes came into view first. She wore deep pink suede Casadei pumps with pointed toes and the high-end cobbler's trademark 5-inch metal blade heel, but in gold instead of the more typical stainless steel. The shoes also had gold satin trim up the back and around the vamp, lending them a heightened air of sophistication.

Her legs were long, and shapely, flowing from the heels up through the aforementioned calves and past the hem of her skirt, which fell just above the knee. The color of the fringe at the hem of her pencil skirt matched the deep pink of her shoes. The skirt was a pink tweed in a boucle texture, and it obviously had some spandex in the fabric based on the way it hugged every curve of her shapely hips as she turned. A matching tailored cropped jacket was short enough that its bottom hem ended just above her derriere.

"Shall I wait here, mi Lady?" Parker asked.

"No, Parker. Park the Fab One and join me inside the bank for a spot of tea," she replied with a smile before her driver quickly bowed and returned to the car, closing the gull-wing doors.

His mistress quickly turned, sighted the bank that was her ultimate destination, and began walking the block or so to the headquarters of Lichtsteiner & Cie.

The cut of her skirt, which was tailored to the beautiful blonde's exact measurements, showed off her hips and her taut little bottom as she made her way past one admiring set of male eyes after another along the Bahnhofstrasse. Her stiletto heels clicked seductively as she strutted past shoppes and a couple of larger banks.

Her jacket hugged her curves as well as the skirt, its deep-cut front showing more than a hint of a cream-colored satin camisole with lace trim underneath. (A matching satin and lace thong rode high on her curvaceous hips under the pencil skirt, completing the undergarment ensemble.) She carried a hobo-style handbag in the same deep pink suede material as her Casadei pumps, as it was custom-made for her by the shoe manufacturer.

The lady's jewelry consisted of a gold chain necklace and matching bracelet on her right wrist and gold-and-diamond earrings. She wore a gold Cartier watch on her left wrist. The jewelry coordinated perfectly with the gold satin trim on her shoes and handbag.

The put-together look might have been a bit much on some women, but on this flower of the English aristocracy, it only served to amplify her style and sophistication.

The look was completed by flawless makeup that highlighted her high cheekbones and made her sparkling blue eyes pop, and a longer bob haircut (the stylists were calling it a "lob") that left her with stylish bangs while still keeping her classically beautiful face on full display.

As she approached Lichtsteiner & Cie, she noted a gas company crew with a manhole cover removed working about 50 feet from the bank's entrance. The only worker above ground eyed her up and down lasciviously as she passed, making her flesh crawl more than the usual sexist looks and catcalls did. There was something about this one, she thought, but then she was at the bank doors and entered the lobby, where she was greeted by two uniformed security guards.

"Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, I presume?" the older of the guards asked.

"Yes," she answered as she scanned the lobby with trained eyes.

A moment later, a woman in her early 40s hurried across the lobby to join them.

"Lady Penelope," she said as she took the International Rescue operative's hand. "I wish we were meeting again under different circumstances."

"As do I," Lady Penelope replied to the woman who not only handled her estate and her family's investments but also tended to more discreet matters. She was Caroline Lichtsteiner, the bank's president and the fifth generation of her family to direct this small but well-run financial institution, and she and Lady P had struck up a friendship over the years.

Fraulein Lichtsteiner was an attractive woman, although she only let it come through in small ways. She was petite; standing barely 5-foot, but always wore high stiletto heels to appear taller. She wore dark, solid-colored suits as was expected of a bank president, but personalized them with custom tailoring and feminine blouses. On this day, she wore a charcoal skirt suit, black pointed-toe suede pumps, sheer hose and a tailored white sleeveless blouse. Her straight, dark hair was cut in a short pixie style that highlighted her high cheekbones and deep brown eyes. She had been quite a looker, as they say, in her 20s and had married -- against her family's wishes -- a handsome blond goalkeeper from the Grasshoppers Zurich club who did his banking with Lichtsteiner & Cie. They had no children, as her business and his footballing career often kept them apart. Even now he was coaching in Russia and they only saw each other during the summer months and on the occasional holiday.

Lady Penelope had met Caroline nearly 10 years earlier when she was looking for a bank that could discreetly protect non-traditional holdings. And it was just such items that brought Lady P here on this day.

The International Rescue agent had received what she considered to be reliable Intel that someone had learned of her organization's dossiers on various world leaders (and their weaknesses and indiscretions) and was intent on acquiring that information at all costs to gain leverage -- financial and otherwise. Knowing full well that almost any computers could be hacked, including those of International Rescue, Penelope had decided a few years ago to store the sensitive data on a number of flash drives and keep them in a safe-deposit box vault at a nondescript bank where only she could access the storage media. That bank was Lichtsteiner & Cie.

When her Ladyship learned of the threat, she immediately contacted Caroline Lichtsteiner, who promptly closed and secured the vault until her friend and customer could make arrangements to move the data. A few hours' travel later, here she was.

Caroline ushered Lady Penelope into her office and made preparations to have the vault re-opened and have her best security people escort her and the flash drives to Fab One for transport to another undisclosed location. While the arrangements were being made, she had tea brought into the office and, of course, Lady Penelope requested a third cup for Parker, who would be joining them shortly.

What she could not have known was that Parker and Fab One had been blocked into a corner space in a nearby underground parking deck by a number of other vehicles and that not only was Parker unable to open any of the doors of the vehicle, but the underground location prevented him from communicating with Lady Penelope. He was trapped in the car, and Lady Penelope was about to be caught in a trap of her own.

A knock on the door to Caroline's office did not raise any alarms from either lady, as they were expecting Parker. But when the door opened, two masked commandos in all black attire burst into the office pointing silenced automatic weapons at both ladies. A third, clearly their leader, then followed them into the small office.

"Remain calm, do not attempt to sound any alarms and no harm will come to you," he said through his mask.

"Who are you and what is the meaning of this?" Lady Penelope asked indignantly while also assessing the situation and looking out into the lobby for any sign of Parker.

"That is no concern of yours," the masked commandos' leader said as he motioned to one of his men to grab her.

As Lady Penelope's arms were pulled behind her roughly, her bag fell to the floor. The leader of the commandos picked it up and quickly rifled through the contents before something caught his eye.

"What a stroke of luck!" he said with knowing grin, before pulling a stun gun from his pocket and applying a charge to the neck and shoulders of Lady Penelope.

As the voltage crackled through her lovely body and she crumpled to the floor, he added, "For us, not for you, your Ladyship."

When Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward was brought 'round to consciousness with a slap to the face, she heard her own cry of pain catch in her throat and realized immediately why. A large cloth was wadded up in her mouth and a long bandanna was pulled tightly between her teeth. As she tried to move, she felt pain in her shoulders and back.

Taking stock of her situation, Penelope realized that she was suspended in the air in a vertical spread eagle. Almost as alarming was the fact that she was naked, save for her stylish pink stiletto-heeled shoes and her gold-and-diamond earrings. She felt cold, hard steel behind each of her limbs as well as her torso and head. She tried to look down to assess her predicament further, but gasped when a rope looped rather tightly around her slim neck restricted her movement and briefly cut off her air supply.

That's when the realization hit her: Lady Penelope was in the bank's giant vault room and she had been secured to five of the eight handles of the door via multiple pieces of smooth white rope. Her legs were held fast by ropes at the ankles and above and below each knee. More rope ran around her torso at the waist before leading to a double crotch rope, and additional rope crisscrossed her breasts, securing her abdomen to the center spindle of the door's handle. Still more rope bound her arms to handles above and below each elbow and at the wrists. Two coils of rope around her slim neck keep her head upright.

Dr. Peale shifted nervously in her chair, becoming slightly aroused at hearing Lady Penelope's description of her bondage and thinking about some games she had played with her husband.

Lady P mmmppphhhed and grunted as she strained against her bonds before quickly realizing that she was too well restrained to do anything but move her fingers and her pretty head, although even that movement was restricted by the loops around her neck. The knots on each rope were at the back of the handles, totally inaccessible to Lady Penelope's probing fingers.

That's when she noticed two things: The leader of the commandos was standing just inside the door of the room staring at her, and Caroline Lichtsteiner was slumped in a pool of blood in a corner of the vault room with a bullet hole in the side of her head.

Seeing her friend dead caused anger to well up inside as she bit down hard on her cleave gag, before staring daggers at her captor and directing some very un-Ladylike but unintelligible epithets at him. Her anger was also turned inward as she felt at least some degree of responsibility for her friend's death. But as the anger burned away and she again took stock of her situation, she felt a curious tingling of arousal. Mirrors mounted high on the walls in the two corners of the room opposite the vault door allowed her glimpses of herself and her highly erotic bondage.

Her captor then smiled at her sadistically before motioning at his first victim.

"Fraulein Lichtsteiner was less than cooperative," he said. "But we were prepared for that likelihood."

At this, one of his men entered the vault room carrying a backpack from which he began to remove what appeared to be plastic explosives, wires and electronic detonators.

"But we weren't counting on you," the leader said, turning back toward Lady Penelope. "Your presence here presents us with a problem and an opportunity -- an opportunity to not only obtain the data for which we came but to dispose of the only person besides Fraulein Lichtensteiner who knew of its existence. While her death was a bit messy and unimaginative, we have something very special in store for your Ladyship."

The explosives expert was busy attaching what appeared to be C4 at various points on the vault door behind the bound, gagged beauty, much to her chagrin, as she made clear with her struggles and renewed mmmppphhhing. But as bad as things already looked for the International Rescue operative, they were about to become decidedly worse.

After linking at least four charges with wires, the demolition man ran one main wire to a metal tube about 8 inches long and attached it to one end of the device. Before adjusting some settings on the tube and turning it so that a red light came on at the end where the wire was now connected. The explosives expert then handed the metal tube to his boss, who said with relish, "I'll do the honors."

The leader of the commando team then proceeded to use his gloved right hand to stimulate the bound beauty, who he noted was already aroused by the bondage and danger. Lady Penelope closed her eyes and moaned softly as his ministrations got her all hot and bothered and she titled her head back the few inches she could.

Once she was wet and welcoming, she was jolted back to reality as he began to slowly insert the tube into her and she struggled futilely to resist. When he had finally penetrated her deeply enough that he was confident she would not be able to expel the device, he gently brushed her blonde bangs back from her face, then stepped back.

"There, let me look at you," he said appreciatively.

The gorgeous International Rescue agent was sheened in perspiration and her nipples were hard as rocks from the stimulation. Her body was on full display in her tight bondage, her magnificent breasts pushed outward by the white rope above and below them. Her legs were extended to their shapely limits, the muscles of her inner thighs taut and her calves permanently flexed by the high metal stiletto heels of her stylish shoes. Her shaved lips were parted by the metal tube forced between them and were getting additional stimulation from the double crotch rope that placed a strand on either side of the tube. Her blue eyes were a bit glassy at first from the foreplay and penetration, but they were now widening in fear.

This is the way she should always look, he thought. But alas, Lady Penelope would only look like this for a few more minutes.

"We're getting the live video feed from the cameras in here, aren't we?" he asked his explosives expert. "Yes, sir," was the prompt reply.

"Excellent!" her tormenter told his henchman. "The live streams will serve the dual purpose of providing proof of death, which will yield a tidy bonus for us all, and will be edited into some amazing bondage and snuff videos that will fetch even more on the black market -- not to mention that they will be a fantastic addition to my personal library.

"And now for the manner of your death, Lady Penelope," he said. "As you've probably surmised, the charges attached to the vault door behind you are, indeed, C4. But they will be triggered by something else. The tube protruding from between your long, lovely legs is the main event: a white phosphorous incendiary device."

Dr. Peale shivered at the thought before muttering, "My word!"

"Indeed," Lady Penelope responded before resuming the telling of her perilous tale.

At her captor's words, Lady Penelope began to scream into her thick gag and strain against her bonds anew.

"Ah, I see you're familiar with my friend Willie Pete, your Ladyship," he said with a sinister smile as he referred to the device by its military slang name. "But allow me to fill you in on the details. Once ignited, the white phosphorous in this particular device burns at 800 to 1,000 degrees centigrade and keeps burning until it has consumed anything with which it comes in contact."

He walked over to his victim, who closed her eyes and mmmppphhhed as he slowly and gently ran a gloved finger from where the tube protruded from her spread, trembling lips up along the strands of the crotch rope, over her taut abdomen, over the ropes, between her pert breasts and up to her pretty neck, and he added, "And I think we know what the white phosphorous will be coming in contact with, don't we, my dear?" as he again brushed her hair back off her face so that the cameras in the vault room could get a good look at his victim.

Lady Penelope stared back at him with a look of abject terror. She had been in diabolical deathtraps before, but her current predicament left her trembling in her bonds. But it wasn't just fear that shook her to her very core. She was aroused beyond anything she had felt in months by the sight of herself in bondage in those two mirrors that she looked at again and again and by the adrenaline rush she got from being placed in another perilous predicament.

And then there was the peril itself. If she could not escape, she would suffer unspeakable agony as the white phosphorous ignited and then consumed her from within. And her mind had already ruled out just about every possible means of escape. She was expertly bound, Parker was nowhere to be found, no one at International Rescue knew she was here, her captors were going to be watching her on camera and time was not on her side.

Lady Penelope's captor stepped back and continued to expound upon the fiendish fate that was about to befall her.

"The intense heat of a white phosphorous device will burn through tissue, bone, even metal," he added with a sadistic grin as he eyed her up and down before taking her chin in one hand. "Once the white phosphorous quickly consumes the thin metal shielding of the tube, it will burn through you from the inside out at one end (she shook her pretty head and mmmppphhhed her protestations) before eventually igniting the four delayed charges at the other end that will shred the vault door and allow us to take possession of the data in your safe deposit box. But not before we and anyone who pays for the video have a chance to witness the exquisite suffering that will define the final moments of the life of Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. I dare say even the thick gag in your mouth will not silence your screams, which will be captured for posterity."

She could only stare back at him with wide eyes as she tried not to think about experiencing exactly what had just been described to her. But it was impossible not to imagine the phallus wedged inside her igniting and destroying her body. (She'd heard that white phosphorous devices used in this manner would actually make a victim's eyes glow before the device burned out.) She would never give in to tears or whimpering, but the English aristocrat knew that she could only keep the proverbial stiff upper lip for so long if she were unable to escape this diabolical deathtrap.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her captor.

"And now it's time to make our final preparations for the grand re-opening of this vault," he said. "Once I close and lock the door to this room, we'll need some time to set up the blast containment padding and a few other safety measures before we start the countdown. But once the light on your metallic friend turns from red to green, Lady Penelope, you will have exactly five minutes before the white phosphorous ignites. Then it will be just a few seconds before it burns through the metal shielding and goes to work on you.

"I have no idea how long it will take to finish you," he added, "but I can guarantee that my friend Willie Pete will be the hottest lover you've ever known, and that he'll keep going long after you're done."

As he said those words, Lady Penelope tried to refocus her efforts on finding some way out of her latest perilous predicament. She tried again to turn either of her wrists in such a way that her well-trained fingers might just be able to reach the knots that kept her arms extended so painfully. But all she could do was brush a fingertip and a manicured nail against the white nylon rope coiled about her right wrist. Her mind cleared for a moment as she made a mental note about the number of times the rope was looped around her wrist and the vault door's handle. But instead of helping her devise a plan of attack, the knowledge that the rope was looped four times around her wrist just fueled her growing sense of impending doom.

Her head drooped forward and her hair obscured her pretty face for a moment before anger took hold -- anger at her captor for killing Caroline in cold blood and at herself for allowing herself to be captured so easily and placed in this vulnerable position. She screamed into her gag and threw her head from side to side again as she tensed every lean muscle in her utterly feminine body to strain against her bonds. That's when the tingling in her deepest recesses turned her thoughts inward. She was already moist from her captor's attentions and the tightening of her muscles around the metal phallus had renewed the flow of her juices.

This was her darkest desire and her deepest fear made real and she reveled in it, even as her captors prepared to trigger the instrument of her doom. Lady Penelope recalled some of her previous perils and how she had escaped them, often just in the nick of time. She closed her blue eyes and began to work the phallus that was buried deep inside her, clenching and relaxing her well-trained muscles about its cold, hard surface to a rhythm that only she could hear

The tingling began to spread outward, into her thighs and abdomen (as well as those of Dr. Peale), then into her calves and her breasts, which now jiggled slightly. The fire spread quickly to her arms and her feet, her toes pointing involuntarily in her stylish shoes as cramps began to form in her arches and her fingers splayed outward. Her head and upper body surged forward, tightening the rope around her neck as she felt herself beginning to strangle. The lack of oxygen flow to her brain made spots appear before her eyes and her field of vision narrowed as she felt an epic climax approaching. The wave built and built as the beautiful blonde quickened her tensing around the metal tube. Then the wave crashed, hurling her about as she shook in her bonds and a high-pitched squeal of bliss escaped her cleave gag. The metal heels of her shoes clicked against the vault door's handles and her pretty head flailed about, her earrings tinkling as they hit the metal vault door handle to which her neck was tied.

Suddenly her blue eyes opened with a start. Her earrings. Of course!

As the orgasm slowly subsided, she regained control of her exquisite body and strained her head to glance downward through slightly glassy eyes. The light on the end of the white phosphorous incendiary device was still red. There was still time!

Lady Penelope had commissioned one of Europe's top jewelers to create the earrings for her, but without diamonds in the settings. The gems were to be replaced by synthetics that Brains had developed for her in International Rescue's laboratory. These were not just any synthetics mind you. The reason they could very well save her from a most gruesome fate was because they were built to refract and magnify light, turning them into the equivalent of miniature lasers if aimed just so. They had taken so long to perfect that she had nearly forgotten about them, but Brains had insisted she try them out over the next month and give him feedback to make some final adjustments.

There would not be time for any fine tuning now. The crystals would either save her life or they would be found with the rest of her remains after the Willie Pete did its deadly work and the vault was blasted open.

Lady Penelope first tested the right earring, noting the location of the bright overhead LED lights in the vault room, then turning her head to the left and tilting it backward as much as possible in an attempt to catch the light. She heard a faint hiss a moment later and saw a spot on the floor just in front of the vault's door where a beam of light no thicker than a strand of hair was burning a hole. It worked! She quickly performed a similar test on the left earring and within a few moments of straining her exquisite body and tilting her head back just so, there was a similar beam burning a hole in the floor beneath her right leg.

The beautiful aristocrat quickly decided that the only course of action that might free her in time was to quickly work on each of the bindings on one arm one by one, but without burning the ropes all the way through. She had to hope that the laser would not be visible on the vault cameras, which she would knock out with her earrings once the ropes were nearly burned through. Her plan was to then pull through the remains of the bindings on that arm or cut them through with the earring if necessary, and with her hand free, untie her other arm and then undo the rope around her neck. That would allow her to bend forward and remove the Willie Pete and pull the C4 detonator wires before the incendiary device ignited the charges and her. By then, she reasoned, someone would re-enter the vault room to see what was wrong with the cameras, although she was counting on them waiting until after the detonation -- or the anticipated detonation. That might just give her enough time to untie the rest of the ropes holding her fast to the vault door's handle and to formulate some plan of attack against whoever entered the room.

The rush of adrenaline Lady Penelope felt at having a glimpse of hope was a double-edged sword, energizing her for the task ahead, but also sending a tingling of orgasmic aftershock through her loins and outward to every extremity of her bound body. "Not now!" she told herself. "I must maintain my composure or my desire will literally be the death of me."

As she bit down hard on the cleave gag (and Dr. Peale involuntarily bit her lip) and closed her eyes for a moment, she turned her head so that the left earring could begin to work on the rope around her right wrist. Some quick well-trained movements of her neck and shoulder muscles quickly focused the magnified light and she smelled the faint scent of burning nylon as the gossamer-thin beam went to work on the bindings. She pulled experimentally, feeling the rope begin to give but not quite break. She could not look at the rope, lest she lose the precise angle needed for the earring to do its work.

Lady Penelope felt the rope loosen perceptibly, but not quite break. As she stopped to catch her breath and fight the latest tingling residue of her orgasm, her muscles contracted about the Willie Pete's cool, stiff shaft. She steeled herself and fought off the growing urge to squeeze the phallus for all she was worth and go out in a blaze of orgasmic glory. As much as her body desired the release it would bring, her mind still ruled her body and told her to get back to work with the left earring.

A few moments later, she had focused the light onto the rope above her right elbow, and when it began to yield to her efforts she moved on to the binding below the elbow.. She felt an intense sting in her right arm just below the elbow and tensed every muscle in her body as she bit down hard again on the cleave gag in pain. The miniature laser had burned right through the rope and hit her arm. She had to fight through the pain and move on to the next step in her desperate bid for survival. She needed to knock out both of the cameras mounted on the ceiling of the vault room. The first one, just above the door to the room, was dispatched quickly. But as she tried to aim her right earring at the second camera, she caught a glimpse of herself in both mirrors at the room's corners.

The sight of herself bound, aroused and struggling was almost more than Lady Penelope could stand. Her nipples were hard and prominent, her breasts pushed upward and outward by the ropes. She could see and feel her own juices flowing and coating the metallic shaft between her legs as she squeezed it involuntarily. Her incredible legs were straining, her inner-thigh muscles taut as piano wires and her shapely calves cramping and flexing. "My word, I look incredible!" she thought not the least bit self-consciously for it was true. But Lady P knew such thoughts would kill her as she looked down and saw the light at the end of her lover's shaft turn from red to green, telling her she had less than five minutes to free herself.

This was almost more than Dr. Peale could stand. She felt herself teetering on the edge of what would be the most embarrassing, unprofessional moment of her career if she were to give in to her own growing arousal.

Lady Penelope used yoga breathing to regain enough control to target the second camera and it soon crackled and burned as the circuitry shorted out. In a flash. She then popped the rope binding her right wrist to the handle and used her lower arm to leverage the bindings above and below her elbow until they also yielded. Then it was on to her left wrist as she managed to turn the rope so that the knot was facing forward and quickly untied it. The elbow ropes went quickly, too, before she set about untying her neck.

The adrenaline was flowing now as she moved as quickly as possible, not knowing exactly how much time she had left to free herself and expel the invader. The metal phallus had her attention again as the same adrenaline that was helping her in her bid to escape also renewed the warmth and tingling between her legs. Just as she finished with the neck bonds, pulled the gag and cloth from her mouth and she leaned forward to begin working on the ropes that highlighted her heaving bosom, she felt yet another aftershock. "Ohhhhhhh!" she said as her head tilted back against the vault door's handle, her blues closed, and she fought to hold back what she knew would be a fatal orgasm if she should give in to her desires. The beautiful blonde bit down so hard on her lower lip that she drew blood as she fought her own body for control.

But Lady Penelope's mind ruled the day and she managed to halt the spread of the wildfire that threatened to consume her. Beads of sweat now coated much of her incredible body as she worked to quickly untie the ropes around her breasts. The rope fell to the floor as she moved on to the waist rope and the double crotch rope that stimulated her anew. Lady P had to take a moment's respite to steel herself against her desires and regroup for the final push as her muscles tensed and released against the metal phallus and her juices continued to coat its cold, hard surface.

"I will defeat this deathtrap!" she told herself. "And I will make my captor pay for killing Caroline if it is the last thing I do."

As she retold the tale of terror, Lady Penelope saw the genesis of the violence that she so willingly inflicted on Philippe many months later. What happened in that vault room was another step down the road which she had traveled, forcing her to seek the treatment that resulted in this session and the ones that came before it with Dr. Peale.

Going back to the vault room in Zurich now in her mind, Lady Penelope resumed her recounting of that day.

As she untied the waist rope and then allowed the crotch ropes to drop free, Lady Penelope paused for an instant to brace for the sensation she was about to feel. She could afford no further self-indulgence now or she would surely perish in a most excruciating manner.

She reached down and grasped the exposed end of the white phosphorous incendiary device, closed her eyes and gasped as she began to pull. The gorgeous International Rescue operative shuddered and moaned softly, her eyes opening and fluttering briefly as she felt its hardness sliding from her well-lubricated slit. Part of her longed to slide it back in, slowly at first, but then in and out more quickly and repeatedly in what undoubtedly would have been a frenzy of erotic release. But no.

As the metallic monster finally came free, she froze for a moment to fight off the last of her carnal desires, then yanked the detonator wires loose. She surmised that she had less than 10 seconds left before the device ignited, and she quickly deduced that turning the end where the wires had been connected counterclockwise past a notch on the shaft might halt the countdown, which it did. She dropped it to the floor, where it clanked then rolled toward the door to the rest of the bank.

A sigh of relief escaped Lady Penelope's full lips, but there was no time to celebrate this victory. When the charges did not detonate on schedule, someone would come through the vault room's door, and her legs were still secured to the door's handles. Her training and practiced fingers allowed her to work on untying both legs simultaneously. This was no easy feat, but it was accomplished and she dropped to the floor in a crouch before standing on unsteady legs atop her stylish stiletto heels. And still the door had not opened, although she could hear some sort of commotion.

She took a couple of hesitant strides toward the door and noticed the Willie Pete lying a few feet away. Just then the doorknob began to turn and things moved in slow motion for the International Rescue agent. She was moving toward the door now and reached down to pick up the white phosphorous incendiary device. As the door opened, she picked up the Willie Pete, found the control end of the metal tube and turned it clockwise past the next notch. Her captor paused now in the doorway, his jaw dropping as he saw his victim standing before him in all her glory -- stunned that she had managed to escape his diabolical deathtrap. As he froze momentarily, Lady Penelope acted desperately and decisively in a moment of inspiration. She tossed the Willie Pete toward him, and as it floated through the air in slow motion, the lead commando instinctively reached out with both hands to catch it.

Just as her most basic instincts had nearly proven to be her undoing, his reflexes got the better of him. As his gloved hands grasped the metal tube, with the control end facing away from him, the white phosphorous burned through the other end and hit his chest. His scream gave Lady Penelope an idea of what sounds might have escaped her gagged lips had she not freed herself, but even the well-trained spy had to avert her eyes to avoid not only the blinding light emanating from the Willie Pete but the ultimately fatal damage it was doing to her captor.

As he fell to the floor writing and screaming, she watched the automatic weapon that he had over his right shoulder also fall and she grabbed it from the floor. She turned back toward the doorway, which was now filled with two more masked commandos coming toward her. In one motion, she released the gun's safety and squeezed its trigger as her training taught her to do.

Lady Penelope had not fired a gun against an adversary very often, but she proved more than capable as both men quickly joined their leader on the room's floor.

"Well done, Penelope!" Dr. Peale blurted out, unable to maintain her professional facade at hearing the dramatic resolution of the incident.

As Lady Penelope cautiously stepped past the fallen commandos, sliding their guns away from them with her right shoe as a precaution, she expected to see more men coming toward her and their fallen comrades. What she saw instead was the elevator door closing and the lift headed back to the lobby as the rats fled the proverbial "sinking ship."

Lady Penelope had survived yet another erotic peril and defeated a most dangerous adversary, exacting a bit of revenge in the process.

As her heartbeat slowed toward something a bit closer to normal, she found her clothes in the area outside the vault room and began to dress. As she slid the satin and lace thong up her thighs and adjusted it high on her hips, the brush of cool, smooth fabric against her highly sensitized flesh was more than she could resist. She leaned forward, grasping the edge of the table upon which the rest of her stylish designer garments rested with her left hand, and slid her right hand between her shapely legs and gave in. As her practiced hand moved in the most stimulating ways, the resulting orgasm was unparalleled among all the times she had brought herself such bliss. She looked up as she moaned and ground her hips, riding the wave for all she was worth and noticing more than a bit gratefully that there were no cameras in this room to capture her moments of release.

"My word," Lady Penelope thought as the orgasm slowly subsided, "I've never had such a high rate of return on one of my deposits before."

As she recovered, she could hear sirens and gunfire from above. By the time she was dressed and back in the bank's lobby, the excitement was winding down as Parker quickly greeted her with concern -- which she allayed -- and explained to her that the authorities had captured the men who tried to flee the financial institution.

Her adventure was over, but the memory of it -- the peril and the pleasure -- would always be with her.

And with Dr. Peale, who was nearly panting as she tried to regain her composure.