The now seriously concerned and frightened young woman looked around the room again, checking the ceiling and the floor, trying to detect where the danger which Olga had so enigmatically hinted at might come from. She saw no vents which might emit gas to poison her, no hidden barrels which might fire a bullet or dart at her, in fact nothing new presented itself. Not at all comforted, she went back to trying to free her wrists, even though she was sure it was hopeless.

Suddenly she heard a noise from in front of her and she saw the three grilles low down in the wall in front of her slowly flip up, so that the openings behind them were no longer obstructed. What did this mean, she wondered. Were the openings connected to sewers or something, and the room was about to be flooded, drowning her? She dismissed this thought on the basis that the metal bars were never going to stop water, so there was no reason for them to move. She waited nervously, her body tensed and ready for flight or fight, depending on what emerged from those holes.

Emma was not easily frightened, but what appeared in front of her now terrified her. Three massive crocodiles lumbered out of the darkness and into the dungeon. After a few moments of languorously looking around the room, they clearly decided that she was the only thing of interest there which, in their minds, probably meant the only thing to eat. As if coordinating their tactics, they spaced themselves out and formed a semicircle in front and to the side of her. They all opened their maws, presenting her with a wall of razor-sharp teeth.

Forcing herself to remain calm and control her breathing, Emma glanced from one monstrous reptile to the next, trying to judge which one would approach first, pretty sure that one of them would be the alpha, probably the best killer in the group, and would take the lead in bringing down the 'prey'. She tried to banish the images of wildebeest being ripped apart by crocs that she had seen in a wildlife documentary and concentrate on the task in hand, which was staying alive.

The one directly in front of her was the biggest and, as she had already surmised, was the one which approached. It seemed to be either cautious or overconfident, perhaps confused by the animal in front of it not running away from the approaching danger, or perhaps not used to seeing its meat wrapped in shiny black rubber. The result was that it waddled towards her slowly and deliberately, holding its jaws open slightly, ready to take a bite.

Emma decided that, since she couldn't run, the best form of defence was attack. Awaiting her moment, when the reptile was close enough but not too close, she suddenly swung her leg forward with all the force she could muster and kicked the creature under its lower jaw, driving the sharply pointed toe of her boot into the relatively soft flesh there. This reversal of fortune, where it was receiving pain rather than inflicting it, seemed to alarm the armoured monster and it retreated to rethink its strategy.

Breathing deeply and silently congratulating herself on this success, Emma, in the corner of her left eye, registered movement and, snapping her head around, saw the shape of the second attacker flying towards her. It had clearly learned from what it had seen, that its prey would lash out when confronted with a slow and obvious attack, and decided to go in hard and fast, to use the element of surprise.

Emma barely had time to pull herself out of the line of the attack, taking steps backwards rapidly until the rope holding her prevented any further retreat. The massive body of the animal leaping at her flashed by, inches from her body. As it passed her, the crocodile twisted in midair, trying to get its jaws around her, but only managing to catch her with a glancing blow of its muzzle across her stomach, while its right foot caught her hip.

The agent may have avoided a direct impact, but just this grazing contact had a traumatic effect. The thin latex of her suit shredded like paper at the merest touch of the crocodile's teeth and claws, which scratched the skin beneath. The massive beast crashed to the floor and slid away from her, lying still as it tried to recover from its heavy landing.

Emma felt bruised and battered by the near miss, and she looked down at herself to assess the damage. The white flesh of her stomach was clearly visible through the gaping gash in her latex catsuit but, although there was a livid red mark where the animal's teeth had caught her, at least the skin wasn't broken. Her hip and thigh had not been so lucky, as the creature's claws had scraped down her leg, not only ripping away the latex but also tearing her flesh, leaving three red lines from her hip to just above the knee, each dripping with blood.

She desperately needed to rest, but the third croc was already closing on her with alarming speed. It reproduced the attack method of the animal which had drawn blood, leaping at her in an attempt to avoid her kicking legs and sink its teeth into the softer flesh above.

There was no time to get out of the way this time, and it looked like the crocodile would hit her squarely around her chest, enabling it to grip her in its powerful jaws and tear her apart as it would any other prey animal.

At the last second, Emma turned side-on to the monster and sucked in her stomach, like a matador might do to sway out of the reach of the bull's horns. It moved her just far enough for the beast to slide by close enough for its armour plated skin to brush against the latex, but it's teeth and foreleg missed their mark.

Emma thought she had avoided it altogether, but she gasped in pain as she was caught by its trailing leg, it's claws dragging across her chest as it fell away. The thin rubber was torn away, exposing her breast, which was also raked by the knife-like tips of the vicious nails. The blow had severely winded her, though there seemed to be no major injury or lacerations.

The fight had reached a temporary impasse, the huge reptiles waiting for their moment, the young woman trying to catch her breath and deal with the pain in her aching body. She had survived the first wave of assault, but she knew that was all. She had been significantly weakened, while they had suffered no damage whatsoever. Having identified her as a meal that couldn't escape and that could do them no serious harm, they were prepared to strike if they detected her guard slipping, or to just bide their time until she tired.

The hiatus did not last long, as Emma saw one of the beasts start to move towards her at speed, its maw wide and threatening. As she tried to dodge from side to side, the animal moved with her, while at the same time closing her down fast. She realised she could not use the same evading moves as before, these experienced hunters would not fall for the same trick twice and, as the crocodile approached, she became desperate.

In a last-ditch effort to save herself, she grabbed the rope above her and pulled herself into the air, swinging her legs until she was directly above the reptile. Timing her move precisely, she let herself fall towards it and drove the spiked heel of her boot into the top of its upper jaw. The crocodile thrashed its body from side to side and tried to free itself, but Emma remembered that, while the crocodile's bite is one of the most powerful in nature, the muscles it uses to open its mouth are much weaker, and it couldn't throw her weight off its closed snout.

Another of the reptiles ran towards her as she stood on her conquest, and she swung her free leg to try to kick it in the eye. But, quick as a flash, the beast turned its head and caught her foot in its jaws, the teeth biting down on the stiff leather of her boot. Emma tried to pull herself away, but the crocodile's grip was too tight, and when it swung its head away, she was suddenly pulled off her standing foot, suspended in mid-air, being stretched between the rope which held her arms and the monster which held her leg. At the same time, the croc whose jaw she had been standing on was now free, and it snapped at her, trying to catch her free leg, which she only just managed to pull away in time.

The croc was now pulling so hard on her boot that it felt like either her arms would be pulled from their sockets, or the reptile would bite off her foot. Just when it seemed she would be torn apart, her foot slipped out of the boot and she swung away. The crocodile, believing it had bitten off a tasty morsel, flicked its head back, and the boot flew to the back of its throat where it was instantly swallowed whole.

As she swung away from the other two crocs, Emma realised that she was flying straight towards the third. Her feet were nowhere near the ground, and she couldn't manoeuvre herself in any way to prevent hitting the wide-open mouth in front of her, with its deadly array of teeth. It would take only seconds to close the distance between them, and she knew that, once it had her in its jaws, she was lost. It would tear her flesh and break her bones, and would be joined in that task by the other two. She hoped she would die quickly from the trauma and blood loss, but she had no illusions that it would be anything but hideous agony.

"Aaaaaargh!" The loud cry from somewhere close behind her startled her, as did the arm which grabbed her around the waist and brought her to a halt. Suddenly, a spear was thrust forward, and its sharp tip pierced the animal before her through its soft underbelly.

Steed ran forward, pressing home his attack, driving the spear into the body of the crocodile until it finally stopped moving, fatally wounded. He placed his foot on its lifeless body and yanked the spear out, turning to face the other two animals, which had started to move in on the seemingly unconscious Emma, hanging from the rope.

He advanced on them, threatening them with the spear and placing himself between them and his friend and colleague. They in turn retreated, recognising that here was a fierce warrior, armed with a deadly weapon, and that the 'easy meal' they had anticipated had suddenly become a much more dangerous prospect. After being poked in the snout by the sharp point of the spear several times, they turned tail and scuttled back into the darkness from which they had come. Steed placed his boot against the grille and forced it down until the reptiles were once more trapped behind the bars.

Turning his attention back to Mrs Peel, he ran to the wall and unfastened the rope, gently lowering her to the floor, before cradling her in his arms.

"Mrs Peel, are you alright?" he asked with obvious concern has he removed the ballgag.

"Well," she replied groggily as she tried to sit up and rotate her aching shoulders, the pain etched on her face, "I'm alive, thanks to you. I'm just about in one piece, although I have to say, rather sore after my night's activities."

"Thank goodness you managed to stay alive long enough for me to reach you," Steed commented with relief, "I heard that several large reptiles had been stolen from the zoo, and I saw your predicament on the monitors upstairs. I got here as quickly as I could."

"Your timing was impeccable as always, Steed," Emma smiled as she worked the ache out of her neck and straightened her hair. Then her expression turned to one of concern, possibly fear. "What about Olga and the others? Are they taken care of?"

"Don't worry, my dear," Steed responded, smiling reassuringly at her, "I broke the habit of a lifetime and brought backup for once. They've all been captured and taken away."

"That's a relief," Emma said, "now, do you think you could be the perfect gentleman and lend me your jacket - my outfit appears to have become a little too revealing!"

"Of course, milady," Steed replied jovially, taking off his jacket and placing it around her shoulders, "can't have you mixing with the other agents in a state of undress!"

"Absolutely," Emma smiled, "for your eyes only, Steed." He looked at her sharply, but her expression was inscrutable.

"Let's get you out of this place and to a doctor." He helped her up and held her as they walked out of the dungeon together.

* * * * *

"Congratulations, Steed, on cleaning up that Fotheringham mess," the tinny voice on the phone said.

"Thank you, Mother," Steed replied, absent-mindedly flicking the small cat bell hanging above him.

"Is Mrs Peel there? I'd like to give her my thanks as well."

"I'm afraid she's tied up with something at the moment, and can't come to the phone," Steed said suavely, "but don't worry, I'll pass on your thanks when she's free. Oh, sorry, I've got to go, she needs my help with a knotty problem she's working on. Bye, Mother!"

It was an in-joke that he knew his superior at the organisation would not understand, but he couldn't resist. Besides, Mrs Peel would have heard, and she would appreciate it. He flicked the cat bell again, thinking about the surreal sequence of events which had led to the situation in which he and Mrs Peel now found themselves.

The medical advice was that Mrs Peel would need several days bed rest to recover from her injuries but, true to form, she insisted that Steed should come round and go through the standard debrief the very next day. He had gone to her flat and found her in good spirits, up and dressed in a lemon and black spandex catsuit, the height of 60s swinging London fashion.

"I have the video that Lady Olga made," he said as he entered, "but we don't have to watch it if you're not feeling up to it."

"I feel fine," Emma replied, "I'm interested to see the video, to see if my memories of the events of that night agree with the hard evidence." They put the video in the player and settled down to watch it.

Steed was shocked by the level of violence Emma had suffered at the hands of the sadistic Russian, and wondered again if she was coping quite as well as she portrayed.

"You took a pretty rough beating that night, Mrs Peel," he said quietly.

"Yes, she certainly seemed to take delight in making me suffer," Emma replied thoughtfully, "and yet…"

"And yet?" Steed queried, wondering what mitigating circumstances she could possibly see in such treatment. Emma watched the video in silence for several more minutes before finally responding.

"What she did to me was painful and I was convinced that, if I didn't escape, I would be killed." Emma explained, "Yet, at the time, I felt a distinct sexual arousal. Now, watching it back, knowing how things turned out, I'm finding it even more stimulating."

"You never cease to amaze me, Mrs Peel," Steed said with a rueful smile and a shake of his head, "you were facing imminent death, and you still manage to take some positives from it!"

"Indeed," Emma replied, now smiling herself, "and now I want to explore that feeling in much greater depth."

"Are you serious?" Steed asked incredulously, "I would have thought you'd have had enough of such treatment!"

"I wouldn't want to reproduce the life-threatening nature of that encounter, certainly," Emma conceded, "but in a safe environment, with someone I trust, I would very much like to analyse those experiences in more detail to, hopefully, discover more about myself and my sexuality."

"It sounds like you've given this some thought," Steed remarked.

"I have," she replied, "I've decided who I want to be my partner in this little adventure."

"Oh?" Steed said, "who's the lucky man? Or lady?"

"I want you, John," Emma said quietly, but with obvious excitement in her voice, "I trust you more than anyone else in the world, and I don't mind admitting that I've always found you extremely attractive - you're the sexiest man I know!"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure what to say," Steed responded, rather nonplussed, "I'm incredibly flattered, of course I am, who wouldn't be flattered to be asked by such a beautiful young woman as yourself to… well, I suppose that's the question, isn't it - what exactly are you asking me to do, Emma?"

"I want you to help me, to accompany me on a journey, to keep me safe in the world of BDSM," Emma said eagerly, leaning towards him in her enthusiasm, "I want you to provide the Bondage, Discipline, Domination and even Sadism that will be required, while I explore the limits of my Submission and Masochism." They sat and looked at each other for a long time, both trying to come to terms with the magnitude of the statement she had just made. Emma looked at him expectantly, knowing that she could now only wait for his reaction.

"I'm sure it's against company rules for agents to fraternise," he said doubtfully, before eventually continuing, "but… they expect us to break a few rules from time to time, don't they? If you're absolutely sure that this is what you want to do, Emma, how could I possibly refuse? I only hope I can be worthy of your trust." Emma beamed in delight at his acceptance of her proposal and leaned over, kissing him full on the lips.

"Thank you, Steed," she smiled, "you don't know how happy that makes me!"

"So… when do you want to do this?" Steed asked. To his surprise, Emma kicked off her boots, stood up, unzipped her catsuit and stripped out of the one-piece garment.

"There's no time like the present," she exclaimed, standing naked before him, hands on hips, "if you want me, that is, Sir?". Once again, Steed felt on the back foot, but he noted her use of the epithet 'Sir', indicating that she wanted to be dominated. He stood up and looked at her appraisingly, trying to convey a sense of superiority and detachment.

"I don't have the necessary… tools to hand," he said dismissively, "I assume you've thought of that? I wouldn't want to have to punish you so soon for such an obvious oversight."

"You'll find everything you need in my wardrobe, Sir," Emma smiled, and led him into her bedroom, opening the wardrobe doors to reveal an Aladdin's cave of bondage equipment. "For my research, you understand, Sir."

"Of course, Mrs Peel, research," Steed smiled and, rather more assertively, "go and stand by the foot of the bed, please, with your hands behind your back." Emma liked his tone of command, and obeyed immediately.

"Yes, Sir," she said quietly, in a submissive voice, making Steed smile - in all the years he had known her, she had never been submissive to anyone, let alone him. Looking through the impressive pile of equipment before him, he picked out several skeins of soft, white bondage rope and tossed them onto the bed in front of her. She looked down at the rope and started to breathe rather heavily, while an excited smile played on her lips and her eyes sparkled.

"Grip your arms just above the elbow," Steed commanded as he stood behind her, rope at the ready. When she had assumed the position with arms crossed in the middle of her back, he started to bind her, wrist to opposite forearm, just below the elbow.

"I never told you about my posting to Hong Kong, did I?" Steed said in a conversational tone as he tied her, "by a happy coincidence, I studied the ancient Japanese art of Shibari while I was there. I remember a Chinese girl, Xiaoyan, who agreed to be my bondage toy. They say practice makes perfect, and she gave me plenty of opportunities to practice…"

When he had completed the box tie of her arms, he used a second rope to create a breast harness. He wrapped the rope around her body, three times above her breasts and three times below, pulling each loop tight and knotting it securely behind her, then taking the rope over her shoulder and joining the two sets of ropes between her breasts so that they were caught between the strands and squeezed tightly. The rope went over her other shoulder to be tied off between her shoulder blades. He completed the harness by passing the rope under her armpits and once more pulling the ropes above and below her breasts together, restraining her a little more strictly.

Satisfied with this initial bondage, he decided it was time to establish the correct atmosphere for this little scenario. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, pressing himself against her back while reaching round to pinch her nipples sharply.

"You need to know that, from now on, you are no longer my colleague - highly intelligent, assertive, respected," Steed whispered into her ear, "you are nothing more than my slut, to be used and abused in any way I decide, solely for my pleasure and gratification. You're just a sex object – I'd call you a cheap whore, but that would imply that I was paying, and why would I pay for a worthless cunt like you? Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Emma replied, her voice hoarse with lust as she drank in his humiliating words.

"If this becomes too much for you and you want to quit, you will signal that to me," Steed said sternly, "you will use the safe word 'Ambulance' or, if you can't speak, then make the noise of an ambulance. Do you understand, slut?"

"Yes, Sir," Emma responded quietly, determined she would not use the safe word. She wanted to be the perfect bondage slut, and to endure anything and everything he determined she should experience. "Thank you, Sir.".

"You might not be thanking me soon," Steed said in a haughty, dismissive voice, "bend over and open your legs!" The young woman did as she was ordered, bending over the rail at the foot of the bed and moving her feet apart as far as she could.

Steed left her there and wandered casually over to the wardrobe, where he selected a paddle he had seen earlier. He strolled back to the bed, taking his time, letting her stew in her anticipation, then rubbed the paddle against her upturned buttocks, letting her feel first the smooth, polished wood and then, on the other side, the hard rubber hemispheres designed to dramatically heighten the impact of the weapon.

"I'm going to spank you now, slut," he told her, allowing an edge of cruelty to enter his voice, "not as punishment for any perceived or imaginary failing on your part, but merely because I want to. I will enjoy using you like this - whether or not you enjoy it is immaterial." He brought the paddle down across her buttocks, hitting her with the rough side, bringing a sound which was partly a squeal of surprise and pain, and partly a moan of pleasure and released tension from her.

He beat her hard and deliberately, ensuring that she felt every blow to the maximum, waiting for the impact of each to fade before he struck her again. He continued until her buttocks were rosy red and dimpled from the impact of the rubber nodules. He enjoyed the little sounds she couldn't suppress, yelps and gasps, and was impressed that she made no attempt to squirm away from the strikes. He had half expected her to pull away and confront him, cursing, with eyes blazing, ready to fight back, but she was entirely submissive.

He stood back and admired the view of her glowing cheeks and, just below, between her parted thighs, the glistening wetness of her sex. He was sorely tempted to take her then, but he resisted. Despite what he had said, which was only to stoke her feelings of submission and humiliation, this first experience would be all about finding her pleasure points. His own needs could, and should, wait.

Instead, he retrieved a vibrator she had included in her purchases, and eased it slowly into her, drawing a loud moan from her as it filled her hot, wet vagina.

"Stand up, slut!" he ordered, "and keep that thing inside you unless you want real punishment, rather than the mild caresses you just received." Emma straightened up, and Steed could see that the cheeks on her face were almost as red as the ones on her arse.

Steed applied the nipple clamps he had selected, ones which were relatively gentle compared to those with which Olga had tortured her. He knew that her nipples were still bruised from that experience and even these, with the little cat bells dangling from them, would be a challenge. Emma breathed through the pain as he put them on her, trying to avoid screwing her face up, fearful that Steed would call a halt to the whole thing if he felt she was suffering.

Pulling on one of the clamps, he led her into the living area. Emma had a large decorative planter in there which was suspended from a bracket in the ceiling. Steed thought this could come in handy and, to test his theory, he held on to the chain from which the planter was suspended and lifted himself up, hanging from it for several seconds. Knowing that, as it could take his weight, it could certainly take Emma's, he unhooked the planter and moved it to the other side of the room out of the way.

Taking a new rope, he tied it to the back of Emma's breast harness and threaded the other end through the iron ring in the ceiling above. He encircled her slim waist with one arm and lifted her into the air, pulling the rope taut as he did so, before threading it through the bindings on her arms and tying it off. When he let her go, she gasped as the air was driven from her lungs by the tightening of the ropes around her chest, and she struggled to breathe as she dangled, suspended with both feet off the ground.

"Remember, slut," Steed said, slapping her arse, "unless you use the safe word, you will receive no mercy from me." As he said this, he tied another rope to her left ankle and, attaching it to the bracket above, pulled her leg up until it was bent above and behind her, easing the pressure on her chest by supporting some of her weight, and turning her body until she was horizontal, facing the floor. He repeated this on her right leg so that she was fully suspended, now several feet off the floor.

He moved around her until he was standing inches from her face and gave her a friendly smile. When she smiled back, he wrapped a rope around her head, taking it across her eyes, forcing her to close them, and tied it tightly behind. He looped it around her face again, this time pulling it between her teeth and forcing her mouth open. He wound it twice more across her eyes and twice more into her mouth, very effectively blindfolding and gagging her. He tied the loose end of the rope to the bracket above her, pulling her head back until her eyes were staring sightlessly ahead. Satisfied with his work, he patted her on the cheek and moved on.

Next, he tied fresh rope around her waist, before passing it between her thighs and looping it beneath itself at the small of her back. He carefully spread her labia so that they were on either side of the rope, and then placed the tiny butterfly vibrator he had found underneath the rope, resting against her slit. He added the rope to those from which she was suspended, gradually pulling it tighter, raising her hips as the crotch rope took on a significant proportion of her body weight. The rope dug deeper into her sensitive flesh, forcing the butterfly vibrator hard against her clitoris and bringing a grunt from her lips.

He stood back to admire the finished work, the combination of this beautiful, naked woman and the tight, white bondage restraining her making an arresting sight. Happy with the overall visual impact, he reached forward and turned on the vibrators - the one inside her and the clit stimulator. He watched as the still life before him gradually became very animated, Emma squirming and writhing in her bondage, quiet moans escaping from her parted lips. After a few minutes, the saliva which had built up in her mouth flowed over her bottom lip and oozed down her chin before forming a long string of drool onto the carpet below. Yes, he thought, that should keep her fully occupied for some time.

Steed went into the kitchen area and placed the champagne and caviar he had brought to celebrate her recovery into the fridge. He estimated it would be an hour or so before the bottle was chilled to the correct temperature, so he went back into the living area and sat on the sofa, leafing through the Knotty Problems magazine, looking for ideas for future sessions.

Absent-mindedly, he reached up and flicked the cat bells dangling above him…

THE END