THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF LADY PENELOPE: HORSING AROUND

THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF LADY PENELOPE: HORSING AROUND

By HKlaw and barrie125ca

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward was back in the office of Dr. Emma Peale, where she was about to embark on another session with her therapist. They had been meeting to explore and work through the aristocrat/spy's experiences and fascination with bondage and peril, as well as the deeper issue that Penelope had essentially murdered one of her tormenters because she believed -- incorrectly, as it turned out -- that he had killed her friend and fellow agent, Olivia "Livie" Strauss.

In their sessions, Lady Penelope recounted her experiences as a way of venting and to help her therapist, Dr. Peale, understand how she had reached this point in her life and her career.

After the usual recap of their most recent session and what Penelope took away from it, Dr. Peale asked her if she had anything new to discuss. With things being relatively slow at International Rescue, they then turned their attention to a past bondage/peril situation that involved one of the aristocrat's former classmates at Charring Abbey. As with past sessions, Lady P told it in her own words and from a first-person, stream-of-consciousness viewpoint. She shifted somewhat uncomfortably on the leather couch before beginning, smoothing the hem of her pink floral sheath dress and crossing her legs before putting her stiletto-shod feet up on the couch.

I was shopping at a small boutique just off Oxford Street that makes fine leather clothing. Not staid jackets or fetish wear -- although I'm sure they could do excellent work there -- but haute couture fashions rendered in leather. The boutique, Skins, produced some of the finest women's pants and boots in the UK.

I was trying on a pair of particularly smashing leather jeans and coordinating ankle boots. The jeans were in a pale, blush shade of pink and they were so supple and buttery soft that by the time I made my way from the dressing room to the mirrors they had molded to my measurements in a way that was most flattering -- and if I do say so, sexy. I wore them tucked into a pair of coordinating ankle boots with pointed toes, a side zipper and 5-inch stiletto heels. The darker pink fitted tweed blazer and ivory camisole I wore under it made for a smashing casual outfit, something I could wear to brunch or cocktails with some old school chums.

Speaking of old school chums, that brings us to Annabella Huffington-Post.

"Yes, I seem to remember something about her in the Times last year," Dr. Peale interjected.

"Indeed," I said before continuing.

My phone began buzzing incessantly with text alerts from some of my contacts at Scotland Yard before the official call came. I was needed at The Yard to help with a kidnapping.

After quickly paying for the pants and boots, as well as some other items I'd fancied (a pencil skirt and a bustier/corset), I was at New Scotland Yard as quickly as humanly possible, thanks to Parker. Once there, I was informed that one of my classmates at Charring Abbey, noted heiress and socialite Annabella "Bella" Huffington-Post, had been kidnapped, which didn't seem to be a matter for me. But the reason I had been summoned was that the kidnapper(s) had specifically requested that I deliver the ransom -- and in a most unique way.

They told Scotland Yard that I was to bring them the ransom on horseback, following the kidnappers' directions exactly and without any sign of the authorities or a tracking device. The ransom was 5 million Euro, in cash, which Bella's family had already collected. If I did not comply or their terms were not met, Bella would suffer dire consequences. They emailed a video recorded just moments earlier once Scotland Yard contacted them via email to say that I had been found. The video showed Bella gagged and struggling, apparently tied to a brass bed in some state of undress.

While I had no particular fondness for Bella, as she had proven to be not only a spoiled brat but had been unspeakably cruel to her horses when we were riding at school, I had little choice but to agree. As a matter of fact, I had to bring her inhumane treatment of one particular pony to the attention of the headmistress, resulting in Bella's dismissal from the competition jumping team.

With no time to waste, I sent for my horse and a riding outfit and had someone from the stable staff meet Parker and I at the starting point of my journey to save Bella. Scotland Yard would send someone with me to that point, transporting the ransom money, and would have a recovery team standing by. But they also would comply with the demands for no tracking devices or monitoring of any kind, and, of course, that meant no cell phone.

I changed into my own stylish riding outfit in the back of the Fab One once we arrived. (The car is outfitted with glass that, at the touch of a button, can be tinted against prying eyes for privacy.) I wore basic hunter/jumper attire, navy blazer and protective riding cap as well as jodphurs, but with a few modifications. Beneath the blazer I wore a white sports bra under a white sleeveless, high-neck silk blouse. And my footwear consisted of a custom pair of classic riding boots, but with 4 1/2-inch metal stiletto heels. Not wanting to be without something in my favorite shade, I accessorised with a pink silk scarf.

After becoming reacquainted with my horse, Mr. Darcy, and loading the ransom bags onto his back, I was off looking for the first clue that I was told I would find about a kilometer down the riding trail on which I had embarked.

A series of pink ribbons tied to trees led me back and forth across the countryside for the next 90 minutes astride Mr. Darcy before I finally found a note and a key dangling from one of the ribbons.

The note read: "Take the trail to the west of this tree and leave the ransom on the freshly-cut stump a kilometer down the trail. There you will see directions that will tell you where to find Annabella Huffington-Post and what to do with the key."

I did as instructed and found myself riding up onto the back side of a large country cottage and adjacent stables and indoor riding ring that seemed strangely familiar. I was told in the instructions at the ransom drop that the key would unlock the front door of the cottage.

As I surveyed the property looking for signs of the kidnapper(s), I saw no one, so I quickly unlocked the front door of the cottage. Upon entering, I found it empty and dusty, but I quickly heard sounds coming from upstairs. As I ascended the stars, I realized that the sound was someone screaming through a gag. Bella! I thought.

In a bedroom at the end of a long upstairs hallway, I found Bella dressed only in her undergarments and stiletto-heeled pumps, gagged and tied to an old brass bed. She screamed and motioned as best she could for me to untie her. When I began to do so, I suddenly heard a noise from the closet to the side of the bed and, before I could react, someone had placed a chloroform-soaked cloth over my mouth and I was unconscious.

"My word, Penelope!" Dr. Peale exclaimed. "How terribly frightful for you and for poor Annabella."

"Not exactly, Dr. Peale. All was not as it seemed."

When I was awakened by an ammonia capsule under my nose, I ached from a huge shaft upon which I found myself impaled. Not only had the crotch of my jodphurs and panties had been slit, but my riding jacket had been removed, along with the sports bra I wore under my sleeveless, pleated white blouse, although the blouse had been placed back on me.

Worst of all, I found myself sitting on an English-style riding saddle with my wrists and elbows bound tightly behind my back and my stiletto-heeled hunter riding boots tied into the stirrups so that I couldn't quite lift myself off the long, ribbed phallus that impaled me. My wrists were secured to the saddle behind me with more rope, and the long, flowing pink scarf I wore while riding had been fashioned into a double gag and tied off tightly behind my head.

As I took in my surroundings, I was dismayed and disappointed -- but not really surprised -- to find Bella standing to my right wearing a Cheshire cat grin and no longer wearing just her undergarments. Bella wore a dark green ribbed sweater with gold and red horizontal bands of color at the waist and a red-and-white ribbed color and cuffs on the short sleeves. The sweater was worn over a pair of skinny jeans and black suede stiletto-heeled boots. She held her long black tresses off her forehead by using her designer aviator sunglasses like a hair band.

There were some things I could have worked with in her outfit, which obviously cost her quite a bit, but the overall look was one of someone who had lots of cash but very little style or class. Typical Bella, as I remembered her.

Standing next to the dilettante was a tall, darkly handsome young man who clearly was her boyfriend. He was about what I would have expected -- tight white T-shirt, torn jeans, leather jacket and biker boots. Bella always liked to think she was edgy, but dodgy was more like it back in the day.

Unfortunately, he was the kind of man who would do anything for her -- and for a tidy sum -- and that included doing some rather ungentlemanly things to me. Bella stepped closer to me and began to explain my predicament.

"Ah, Penny, we meet again," she said in a voice that dripped with contempt. "Not sitting pretty now, are you, your Ladyship?"

She was right about that. As I now realized, my saddle rested on a riding simulator, much like a mechanical bull, that was set up inside a room at the stable on the property where I had been led.

Bella stepped closer and began to explain my predicament and how I came to be their captive.

"We are standing in one of the rooms at my family's country stables where I trained for jumping competitions," she said, "that is until you told tales out of school about me and not only had me removed from the jumping team but grounded by my father. (Of course, I had never been anything but truthful in describing the terrible way she treated not only her horses but other members of the team.). Now this property is for sale, thanks to some setbacks in the markets that have not only cost my father a considerable portion of his net worth but have caused him to limit my spending. Can you imagine?

"Well, with a bit of imagination of my own -- and the help of Sean, here -- I've found a way to not only supplement my allowance to the tune of 5 million Euro until my full trust fund kicks in two years hence," she said referencing the ransom money with smile, "but to get rid of you."

My eyes widened noticeably at her words. I could certainly believe that Bella was capable of holding a grudge for so long, knowing her as I did from Charring Abbey, but kidnapping and ... murder? No, I didn't believe she was capable of such things. But as she stood looking up at me, I saw the evil in not only her eyes but those of her hooligan boyfriend. They clearly meant to do me bodily harm, and they looked as if they would enjoy it.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, Penny, you are sitting atop a riding simulator that will take you on a jumping course," Bella said, pointing at a large screen in front of me that now showed a country setting on it. "You can see each jump, uphill, downhill or stream as your steed approaches it. You will feel every bump, every rise, every jump as your stallion takes you for a long, lusty romp on his thick shaft," she added as she stepped behind me and slapped the simulator where the horse's rump would have been.

I pulled and strained at not only the bindings around my wrists securing me to the saddle but at the rope that held my boots in the stirrups. I found that with great effort I could raise my body a few inches off the well-lubricated, ribbed phallus that impaled me. But I could not lift myself all the way off its rubbery surface. No, I was going to have to endure yet another erotic peril. The question was: How did they mean to kill me?

"How, indeed, Penelope?" Dr. Peale asked. "As painful and humiliating as a ride on that saddle sounds, I'm not sure I see how it would prove fatal, if you don't mind my saying."

"Not at all, Dr. Peale," I said. "Those were my thoughts, as well."

But this was not to be the peril, per se. It was merely a way for Bella to humiliate me and for her lover to indulge his kinky side by watching.

"You've been riding high all these years since we were together at Charring Abbey," Bella said with venom. "And you'll soon have to get off your high horse, but not before we take you for the ride of your life.

"Sean, if you would do the honors ... " she told her boyfriend, who I now noticed was holding a control box for the riding simulator. "Once you get started, the simulator will take you over a 5-kilometer hunter-jumper course of Olympic caliber. And once you've completed that ride, the simulator will reset and you'll be off on another ride. As a matter of fact, the simulator has more than 50 such courses in its database."

My eyes widened, as you can well imagine, at hearing these words. A series of rides atop that saddle and the attached phallus might be pleasurable for a time -- and it certainly wouldn't kill a seasoned rider like myself -- but it would take a toll. And then what?

But before I could think too hard about what fate awaited me, I felt a tingling and wetness as I shifted in the saddle and the shaft inside me moved, too. I mmmppphhhed and threw my head from side to side, glaring at Bella and Sean, but I knew that for now I was at their mercy. And as if to remind me that I would be shown none, Sean threw a switch on the control box and the simulator began to move beneath me.

I screamed in frustration, the thick double gag muffling most of the sound, and I was off.

"You must understand, Doctor, whether I’m mounting an equine steed or another kind of steed," Lady Penelope explained, then paused to let the double entendre take hold, "I’m used to setting the pace. This, however, was not to be the case. I knew in an instant the stallion had been programmed by Bella and not her voyeur boyfriend."

"How so?" Dr. Peale asked, leaning forward a little in her chair.

"Think about it, Doctor, what does a woman want?  She does not want a fast start and a quick finish; no, she wants a slow rhythmic buildup, a gentle but insistent cadence that slowly builds toward a climax finish. Bella may be a lot of things but she is still a woman after all.  No, a male would have gone -- if you’ll excuse the horse analogies -- right to the whip, bit between the teeth, charging away.  But I digress. Back to my predicament."

The steed swayed back and forth, just like riding. I tried to force my mind to be elsewhere, but instinctively the walls of my paradise began to exert a firm and tightening grip about the horn of plenty.  Within minutes my arousal grew. I could feel my pulse quickening, my heart  rate increasing and my body heating up. With no means of changing the motion, I was trapped with only my willpower to resist.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught him looking at me, I shan’t dignify him by name. In fact, I erased him from the scene and focused on myself.  I closed my eyes and desperately tried to concentrate on refusing, but my partner in this ride of peril was of another mind.

Back and forth I went, my now well-lubricated walls slipping effortlessly about the phallus and stimulating me immensely.  I could feel my breathing shallow, my heart picking up pace, my body fighting against my mind for control as I moved, pushed, nudged and rocked myself over and about the immoveable pylon of pleasure.

I could see on the large screen in front of me that we were approaching the first fence. The pace quickened beneath me. I, in turn, quickened with it, matching the torrent of speed with my own gyrations, my hips shortening to sharp thrusts and then, Oh, my! a sudden pull back from the mechanical devil under me. That was all it took, that instant where all the inertia stops and reverses.  The horn drove up into me fully, my eyes rolled back and screams of muffled pure pleasure filled the room. My head snapped back and forth even as my hips thrust forward to engulf the slightly receding cone, my yoni intent on capture and total surrender to my desires.  I pulled and swayed, did everything my womanly arts commanded as I wrung pleasing moans and gasps from deep inside.

When I caught my breath, the mechanical devil was back at pace, but not the same as before.  Bella was smart and experienced and, as I said before, above all a woman.  She knew we, meaning females, need, want, desire another pace from the first that has been done. Our bodies enjoyed that, but now to stimulate us again we demand change.  The pace was more a cantor, up and down, a bouncing ride, short and sharp as was the motion upon me.

"So you were forced into a new position then?" Dr. Peale asked. "One more strident and upright?"

"Bella knew I’d be forced to tilt my hips forward, forcing maximum stimulation on my clitoris.  I would not be allowed to rest or recover."

My desire was building again.  My body stayed hot, small wet marks began to form around my erect, full and, of course, pink nipples. My wonderful silk sleeveless blouse was slowly being ruined as my damp form caught the luxurious fabric and drew it flush to my skin, much to the pleasure of my watcher.  The cantor had the desired effect, maximum contact with me, and soon I was -- well, let's put it this way -- over the fence with ease.

My tormentors, however, had designed an unrelenting course, built for a powerful steed that did not tire or require rest between fences.  No,  the pace increased to a trot, my hips sliding and shimmying about in a most delightful manner, the phallus shaped to please from every angle. I had not a chance against it except one, and I had to wait for my body to react.

At present, I was trapped in a pleasuring ride of orgasmic equestrian extravagance.  I bobbled up and down on the horn, in spite of the circumstances. I found myself driving down on it, my hips giving a little extra thrust for added stimulation.  I titled my head back and moaned and screamed in joy, much to my tormentors' delight. My whole body shook with pleasure. I was totally damp by this time, the nipples piercing raisins plastered against the silk blouse. My smooth, round orbs were the colour of white gauze as they strained against the clinging fabric, jiggling just a little, but always pert as I feverishly gyrated my hips in a rapid-fire motion against my tyrant who delivered me again to such joy.

"My word, that’s three stimulations!" Dr. Peale exclaimed.

"Yes, and now the course changed again, rough uneven terrain that pulled me front to back."

The strain on my arms was terrible, but nothing compared to the sensuous river welling up inside me.  Back and forth, relentless rubbing over my already highly swollen clitoris pushed me onward.  Oh, it was maddening! I tried in vain to concentrate, to will my mind to other places, but always it returned to that room, the room of self-gratification, and all I had to do was open the door.

It was too easy and, of course, I did. At the very next jump, I came, long and glorious as it was a series of jumps.  The aftershocks were nearly as wonderful as the orgasm. I screamed at the top of my voice. Gagged as I was, of course, all that came out was muffled sounds. But my oppressors knew very well that they had succeeded.  But they were not done with me yet.

Down a hill we raced, my hips and body now totally soaked and sheened, all aglow as I rode on. My hot, fevered body was forced forward, then we turned sharply and the sensation of the walls crashing and rubbing against the horn even more so than before as we raced up a hill. Back my body flew, the charger in full gallop, my body straining to hang on, the metal stiletto heels of my riding boots working against the inertia held me down and, of course, tight against the phallus.  My clitoris was pushed right against it astride the charging steed. His pace, ever quickening, commanded ,me to let him run. He was too powerful for me to control.

The rubbing was so wonderful that I didn’t want the pace to slow and I hoped it was a never-ending hill of pleasure that I could ride to the top again and again.  I gripped my lover with all I had and charged on, lost in a cloud of sound and fury as I experienced and enjoyed the ride to the very apex of pleasure.

"Is there more or were you, at this point, finally incapacitated?" Dr. Peale asked.

"No, far from it, but what I had hoped would happen did."

"Please continue. I think we need to extend the session in order to complete this," Dr. Peale said, looking at her watch as she clearly was enthralled – both professionally and personally.

As you well know, a woman, after a certain number of times, tends to get a little over lubricated and she somewhat enlarges in capacity. That, of course, makes friction for the male difficult and orgasm nearly out of the question. I had reached that stage and I thought that if I could just fake a few more encounters they would think I was done and move to stage two of their plan for me, at which point I would surprise them and escape.  That however was not to be, and I should have understood that. As I said before, Bella is a woman and she had anticipated this scenario.

"No need to ask if you’re enjoying yourself, Penny," Bella said with a sadistic smile. "I think both of us can clearly see and hear that you are.  But not to worry, not only doesn’t your lover get tired we have also endowed him well --- Hmm, interesting double meaning -- and given him the capacity to grow into the job.  Darling, if you please."

Her boy toy pushed a button on the control box and I knew right away my plan was useless.

"Whatever do you mean?" Dr. Peale asked, her voice a little more curious than professional.

"The object between my legs began to swell, filling me from every angle, the soft firm compound allowing me no escape.  I was scrumptiously occupied,"

I could feel my lady calling to him to come to her, and he responded the second the next course came up.  I vowed to refuse, but soon knew I was not the master.  Jump after jump filled me with no refusal. He was tight and oh so perfectly positioned inside me. It was impossible!

I let go of the reins and sailed over the jump on the third fence, my body jerking and lurching as I went limp from the pleasuring.  Still we rode on, but I had lost control of the charging beast and he, all quicksilver and flash, pulsated beneath me as he ran free and hard.  I gasped for air in between double and sometimes triple orgasms lasting what seemed forever and in reality I knew far too long.

My strength ebbed quickly and soon I was in a kind of daze, aware of only light and a vague sense being.  I’m sure that if I wasn’t bound in place I would have fallen off my mount, something that has never happened to me under any circumstance.  I soon became aware of only the rush of my body from the gratification.  I sensed a little pleasure, but not much. I’m not sure even of this as I have only vague recollections of it.  I do remember Bella saying to me that my horsemanship was quite extensive in duration.

I do remember one long crucible of joy where my heart raced uncontrollably and my screaming even managed to stir me from my dream if just for a second.  The pleasure was intense and numbing, my body started to go limp. Every string that controlled my appendages seemed to be cut, like a marionette having its strings cut on stage for all to see.  I saw white before my eyes, heard a scream of utter ecstasy and felt my body drain away as I had nothing left to fight with.

The next thing I remember was walking up to part two of my captors' plan, and this was nothing like part one. As my head slowly cleared, I realized much to my chagrin that I was tied to a huge blacksmith's anvil in the main part of the stable barn.

My legs were wrapped around the horn at one end of the anvil, with my boots pulled down as if they were still in stirrups. But they were actually both held in place by loops of a rope that ran around the base of the anvil. My wrists were pulled down under the other horn of the anvil and tied together with the same rope that formed my ankle stirrups, with the length of rope wrapped around the base. A crotch rope tied around my waist and the anvil prevented me from expelling the phallus, which was not nearly as long as my earlier companion. But what it lacked in length it made up for in girth. Even in my moistened, stretched state, it utterly filled me. My bondage was completed by a rope looped around my neck and tied around the horn beneath me.

"Ah, Penny, so good of you to rejoin us for the final leg of your journey to the afterlife," Bella said.

I knew at this point that she and her boy toy meant to finish me, and my struggling and loud mmmppphhhing made that clear, but I did not yet know the means. I was soon enlightened.

"It's usually unfortunate when a lively filly must be put down," Bella said, "but in this case I think it's actually long overdue. You've been a burr under my saddle since our days at Charring Abbey, and now it's time to put you out of my misery.

"Look up!" she commanded, pointing toward the roof of the barn, some 30 feet or so above me.

My eyes went wide again and I gasped as I saw the instrument of my doom -- or at least the doom Bella and her boyfriend intended for me -- hanging by a rope. It was an anvil just like the one to which I was so painfully bound.

"No, surely Bella wouldn't ...." Dr. Peale said, aghast at what she was hearing.

"Oh, Bella would," I replied. "She had never forgiven me for shaming her, and now she would have her deadly revenge."

And she would take great pleasure in describing my fate in detail.

"Yes, Penny," Bella said with relish, "now you see what we have planned for you. The anvil suspended above you weighs more than 250 pounds. It has been aligned directly over the anvil that will serve as your final resting place."

As Bella continued, my eyes followed the rope that held up the anvil so precariously.

"As you can see, we used a block-and-tackle and a series of pulleys to lift the anvil above you into place. The end of the rope is tied securely around a sturdy cleat on the wall right next to the barn's sliding main door," she said pointing and guiding my eyes. "That is very important because, as you will also notice, we have attached a large knife with a rather sharp blade to the door so that when it is slid open, it will cut the rope."

I strained against the ropes that held me securely to the anvil on the barn floor, but all that did was move the phallus inside me around a bit.

"I've spent years pondering how I might exact my revenge on you," Bella said. "I heard the jokes made at my expense after you had me removed from the equestrian team, so I thought it only fitting to create a diabolical deathtrap with a riding theme. And it all fits into my plan so nicely.

"In a few moments, Sean and I will leave you to your fate. He will tie me to the bed where you found me in the cottage, but this time in addition to gagging me, he will blindfold the kidnapping victim, then leave to pick up the ransom. When the authorities find me, it will appear that since I had never seen their faces -- thanks to the blindfold -- they could let me live. You, on the other hand, somehow saw them and could make an identification. So, you had to be dealt with and in a most delightful way, if I do say so myself.

"After picking up the 5 million Euro, Sean will call the police on a throwaway cell phone and tell them that they can find me in the cottage and you in the barn. He will tell them that we are unharmed -- for now -- but they had better hurry if they want us to remain that way. That should ensure someone from Scotland Yard rushing to your rescue through the sliding barn door and a final, crushing defeat for Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward."

"How horrible!" Dr. Peale said. "And what a horrible person Bella is."

"Indeed," I responded, "but she had not yet won the day."

Still, Bella had one final humiliation in store for me. Lest I forget, the phallus held fast between my legs by the crotch rope, Bella's boy toy leaned in close and looked at me lasciviously before reaching into the slit cut into my now-soaked jodphurs.

"Any final words, Penny?" Bella asked, not that I could answer her audibly.

I looked away from my captors and up at the anvil suspended high above me and screamed some rather un-Ladylike things, I dare say, into the thick gag. But the sound suddenly caught in my throat as Sean turned on the vibrator between my legs and I went rigid in my bonds. The combination of bondage, peril and stimulation had me once again.

My captors broke into loud laughter before Sean put an arm around Bella and they made their way toward a small back door of the barn behind some hay bails.

I was soon lost in the sensation of the thick phallus buzzing wildly inside me. Already drained from my ride atop the phallus on the simulator, I could do little but arch my pelvis and grind my hips against the cold, hard steel anvil as the vibrations took me back to that place where I could seek blissful release.

My mind knew that I had to find some way out of this perilous predicament, but my body could not muster the will to resist the siren call of the throbbing phallus that filled me to the hilt. I strained and wriggled as best I could in the tight bonds, working myself toward yet another orgasm. I had no sense of the passage of time as I closed my eyes and squeezed the thick shaft with every womanly muscle at my disposal.

Finally, I felt the tingling and bit down hard on the thick gag as the warmth spread slowly until I was engulfed in the fires of passion once again and my body trembled and shook in orgasm.

It was a long time -- I know not just how long -- before I finally opened my eyes. Looking up jolted me back to reality as I saw that massive anvil still hanging over me like the Sword of Damocles. I wondered for a moment if the orgasm I had just experienced would be my last, but I was by no means ready to give up.

As the last aftershocks subsided, I began to probe every bit of the rope that I could reach with my trained fingers but found no knots within my reach. I tried rubbing the ropes against the anvil, but its surfaces were too smooth to fray the fibers. I tried throwing my body from side to side and backward to forward, but the anvil was much too heavy and my feminine form much too light to move it even an inch. No, there was no way to free myself from this erotic peril.

"There must have been some way out," Dr. Peale said. "Your very presence here is proof of that, surely."

"I could not free myself, so I would have to rely on someone else to come to my rescue, and who else but ..."

"Parker, of course!" Dr. Peale exclaimed.

I was about to ponder my next move when I heard the first car roll up outside the barn. Realizing that the authorities had arrived and my time to affect an escape was up, I began struggling and screaming into my gag anew. For a moment I was torn: Would making noise bring a rescuer through the door from which Bella and Sean exited or would it only hasten my demise by bringing someone through the sliding door. The movement, the adrenaline and the bondage had me moistening again despite my best efforts to focus on my predicament.

The commotion outside grew louder as the police approached the barn door. I looked toward the blade poised to sever the rope, then my eyes widened and fixed on the massive anvil hanging directly above me. My back began to arch as the vibrations pushed me to the brink and I held my breath, every muscle in my bound body straining.

The barn door began to move as time seemed to stand still.

Dr. Peale was breathless and literally on the edge of her seat, flushed and sweating as the story was re-told to her.

I can vaguely remember a sound from behind me near the small back door of the barn and a gray blur of motion passing me. "NO! DON'T OPEN THAT BLOODY DOOR!!!!" a familiar voice shouted.

But the door was already in motion. Fortunately, so was Parker, who reached the fraying, groaning rope just as it gave way and the anvil began to drop toward me. He grasped the end of the rope with two glove hands and was literally swept off his fee before bracing them against the way and halting the anvil's rapid descent.

"Good show, Parker!" Dr. Peale shouted. "Good show!"

"Yes, indeed. And,I'm not ashamed to say that I put on quite a show myself over the next few minutes.

"Of course, you couldn't help yourself, could you?" Dr. Peale asked.

"No, the release of tension was long and pronounced as I squeezed the throbbing phallus for all I was worth, my loud moans and screams filling the air inside that barn."

Parker managed to keep the anvil at bay and keep the police out of the barn until I had satiated myself.

"Quick now, untie her lads," Parker eventually told the police as they entered the barn, "and help me with this bloody thing," he added motioning toward the swaying anvil.

I don't remember much of the aftermath, but I've been told that Bella had already been freed by this time and was being helped to an ambulance to get medical treatment when the barn door finally opened. It was a surprisingly long delay before she heard a loud clang from the barn as the anvil dropped. She had to stifle a grin at the thought of the massive weight falling on me, they say. But it was I who had the last laugh, as a few moments later, wrapped in Parker's coat, I was led from the barn, somewhat the worse for wear and on unsteady legs, but clearly unharmed by the anvil.

"And what became of Bella -- and her boyfriend, Sean?" Dr. Peale asked.

"Bella will be a guest of Ashford prison for the foreseeable future, and Sean will be a much older and less attractive toy by the time his incarceration ends. But he did receive a reduced sentence in exchange for testifying against Bella. Her rage in court after hearing him betray her was matched only by her anger toward me.

"She promised that what was done to me at her family's stable was nothing compared to what she would do to me some day."

"And how do you feel about Bella?" the therapist asked. "Does she provoke the type of anger that prompted you to ... "

"Not in the least, Doctor. I pity her more than loathe her. I take any threat seriously, but I don't think I'll be seeing Annabella Huffington-Post again for a very long time. Perhaps I’ll read about her in the papers or online. Only time will tell.

“And speaking of time, my word, is it really 10:27?” Lady Penelope said, checking her cell phone.  “I must hurry I have another pressing engagement,” she added with a wry smile, “this time with some truly lethal ladies.”