Escapades of Eva Christmas Special

Cher pushed the door open with her elbow and hurried to the kitchen counter. She wanted to put her grocery bags and holiday packages down before she lost her grip on them. She sat them down with a thump and one of the bags tipped over scattering groceries everywhere. Silently swearing at herself she took off her gloves. She slipped them into her pocket and took off her coat before hanging it up by the door. Then rubbing her icy hands she went to close and lock the door.

Holding the door for a moment she whistled for her dog Champ. He did not answer and she whistled again. When he still did not come she stepped out on the lawn and looked around for a moment calling him several times. He still did not come. Shivering and feeling a bit aggravated she turned back toward the house. She had wanted to get him inside before she had to lock up.

Before closing the door she whistled once more and looked out on the quiet wooded driveway to her house. She wished for a moment that she still lived in her old apartment so she could see when Sir David and the neighbors drove up. She still felt uneasy living so far back in these spooky old woods when he was out of town. She suppressed a shudder wishing she had worn her sweater outside and she called Champ again.

Where was that dog she wondered? She knew she would feel much better if he was with her. But, she decided that he must be out playing in the woods again and there was no telling when he would show up. At least he liked it here. Locking the screen and the outer door and switching on the floodlight she turned with a sigh to take care of the scattered groceries.

It was Christmas Eve and her Sir had been gone all week. Cher went to the answering machine to see if there was a message from him. As she played back the one message on the phone she heard the deep rich sound of his voice and her knees went a little weak as they did every time she heard him speak.

He said he was still in Ohio and his flight had been delayed due to some problems with snow and ice at the airport. He said that all the airlines were booked up and he was not sure when he would get home. He apologized and said he would do his best but he was just not sure if he would get home that night.

She was disappointed but she decided that she would think positive and hope for the best. She had decorated the Christmas tree that Sir had brought home the previous weekend, but she knew she had more to do and she wanted everything to be ready in case he did make it home in time.

After she put up the groceries she helped herself to a steaming bowl of beef stew that she had prepared earlier. She decided to leave the rest in the crockpot just in case. She carried the bowl into the living room while she ate to see what she had left to do.

She busied herself with the remaining decorations and as she did she thought about her beloved Sir. She had been with him for seven years now and she never tired of the role-play that they had come to love. Sir was very good at it. Over their time together he had taught her to play Daddy/daughter, Teacher/schoolgirl, Boss/secretary, Cop/bad girl, and various other types of play that she always enjoyed. She found that he had a wonderful imagination and occasionally had combined some bondage and discipline into their play. He especially liked spanking and she had come to enjoy it as well

He was the one who had introduced her to a world of His Dominance. He ruled their relationship well and she was very happy being submissive to his wishes. He was fair and kind, but most of all she loved the way his control of her took over her mind, body, and soul.

She loved serving him, but it was more than that. Even when they were not being sexual whenever he took control of her in any way it turned her on tremendously. She craved his every touch in her life. It gave her a fulfillment that she had never known before.

He also loved a bit of rough sex, as did she, and she melted every time he grabbed her hair and physically subdued her. He had mentioned several times that he wanted to try a kidnapping scene. She had been thinking about that idea a lot and every time she did it made her so hot that she had to ask her Sir for permission to masturbate. But she had not told him how the idea had turned her on because she wanted it to be spontaneous, and she did not want to spoil the surprise by talking about it too much. But she had to admit that she was wet now just thinking about it.

She started daydreaming about how her sexy Sir might handle such a scene as she put some goodies into his stocking. Feeling the slick moisture that was gathering in her pussy, she silently prayed that Santa would bring her the kidnapping scene she had been dreaming of for Christmas. Then she giggled to herself remembering how Sir always told her to be careful what she asked for. Then a wonderful idea occurred to her.

She put the last touches on the tree and she put a can of cashews next to Sir's chair. She quickly sliced some fruitcake, wrapped it with some plastic wrap and set it in the refrigerator with a canister of eggnog. It was Sir's favorite snack and she wanted to have some ready if he showed up.

Then she ran around the house gathering up his toys which she set out on a table and arranged them in the order that she thought he would want to use them. There were his favorite paddles, clothespins, handcuffs, and some of his best knives. She ran down to the basement and brought up some lengths of rope and a handful of candles. She wanted to have everything he might want to use available. Looking over the assortment of implements she remembered the sex toys in the bedroom. She ran into the other room and gathered the assortment of dildos, plugs and several long silk scarves.

After she arranged it all on the table with a new tube of lubricant she looked over the room. All was in order and she went into the bathroom to fill the tub with hot water and her favorite bubble bath oils. She wanted to be clean, and perfumed, and well prepared for anything that might strike her Sir's fancy when he came home. Pinning her long blonde hair on top of her head, she lowered her ample figure into the tub.

Leaning back into the delightful hot water with a sigh she closed her eyes and thought of her wonderful Sir. She said a silent prayer that He would be able to be with her on this Christmas Eve.

They had been introduced at dungeon party on Christmas Eve nearly seven years ago. Her Sir had given her his collar of consideration on Christmas Eve two years later, and her permanent collar on Christmas Eve the year before last. Since they were not officially married Christmas Eve had become the only anniversary they celebrated. And, she was anxious to be with him on this one since he had hinted that she would love the special surprise he had for her.

As she lay there half asleep she thought she heard something in the living room. She sat up and listened carefully. She didn't hear anything else so she relaxed and leaned back in the warm water again.

As she thought about her wonderful Sir she pictured his tall, strong powerful body and his handsome face surrounded with the most beautiful white hair and enchanting smile. She thought he was the sexiest man she had ever known. She could see him standing over her saying, "Pet?" She could see the steady smoldering gaze that she had learned meant that he was in the mood for something nice and naughty.

While she thought about him Cher slid her hand down between her legs in the hot soapy water. She slid a finger up and down her slit and gently rubbed her clit. She loved how it felt and in her mind she could see how her Sir's eyes narrowed when he watched her masturbate. Knowing he was watching always turned her on and she was getting hot.

She slid her hand further down and slipped two fingers into her cunt. She fucked herself for a minute until she could feel the tension begin to mount inside her. Sir did not allow her to cum without permission, and not wanting to disobey she pulled her hand out from between her legs with a deep sigh.

Just then Cher felt a strong hand grab her hair and another one stifle her attempt to scream as it clasped her mouth shut. A wave of terror went through her entire body. She began to kick in the water and tried to twist her head from side to side in an attempt to break the hold on her face and head. She thrashed around for a few seconds as she looked at the face in the ski mask that hovered over her.

It was a tall man dressed in a black sweater and black leather pants and there were black gloves on his hands. The only thing she could see were the whites of his blue eyes. Briefly, she wondered how he had gotten into the house. He was struggling to subdue her and she threw her legs over the side of the tub and tried to force herself up and out of the water. She kicked and scratched at the man only to feel him press on her head tighter. She tried to throw her weight against him again and he lifted the hand on her face. She started to scream and he slapped her face hard. He slapped the other side of her face causing her to slide backwards into the tub.

She thought she would slide all the way into the water but he held her tight by the hair. "Shut up!" he growled, and since she was still struggling the best she could he slapped her a third time right on her mouth causing her head to reel. She stopped trying to scream and looked up at him with great fear in her eyes. He pulled the plug out of the tub.

"Be still and do as your told," he whispered as he pulled her up close to his face by her hair. His grip on her hair was so tight that she was afraid that he would pull it out, so she stopped struggling.

Then he took her face in his free hand and squeezed her cheeks so hard she couldn't help letting out a little squeal. "I've been watching you slut, and I see from the little set up in your living room that you know what being a filthy whore is all about don't you?"

Cher didn't answer and the stranger shook her by her hair pulling it even harder and slapped her face again. "Don't you?" he demanded again.

"Yes Sir," she whimpered.

"That's right. Call me Sir bitch, and don't forget it," he said in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes Sir," she repeated. She was trying to identify his voice but the whisper was so low that she could not make it out.

With a vice like grip still on her hair the stranger pulled her up a little and reached around her waist with his free hand. With one smooth move he lifted her up to a sitting position on the side of the tub. Then with strong arms he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as if she was weightless. That got her attention then, and she relaxed a little.

The only one she knew who was strong enough to lift her was her Sir. With a little private smile she began to think that it must be him, and that this was the kidnapping scene she had wished for. She let him carry her into the living room and only struggled a little to give him the impression that she still thought he was the stranger.

When he got her into the living room he unceremoniously threw her to the floor. She landed with a thud and before she knew what was happening he had rolled her on to her stomach and put his knee, with all his weight, painfully in the small of her back. She cried out as he grabbed one of her wrists and twisted her arm behind her back. He snapped a handcuff on her wrist and quickly twisted the other arm snapping the second cuff on as well.

"There you fucking bitch, now stay put if you know what is good for you," he growled in her ear. He yanked her head up by her hair again. This time there was forcefulness and violence in his movements that she had never experienced with her Sir. She was alarmed.

Her arms were hurting from the rough treatment and she tried to wriggle out from under him but he slapped her hard on the back of her head then before she could move again he stood up and stepped on her head pushing her face down on the carpet. Her face and nose were burning from the friction of the carpet and she was suddenly afraid because she could not move enough to get her breath.

She opened her mouth and gasped. He pushed on her head harder forcing her face even further down on the carpet. Now she was unable to move or breathe. Alarmed, she started kicking her feet and trying in vain to move her head out from under his foot.

"Listen you cock sucking bitch," he said in a rasping voice, "I told you to stop and if you ever want to breath again you will stop struggling now or your man will be ordering a casket for Christmas. Believe me you are going to get fucked tonight dead or alive, and I don't much care which. You are mine now and I am going to do whatever I wish with your useless cunt. Do you understand whore?"

Cher was afraid to respond and she was running out of air. She used all her will power to lay still and not struggle, but she was running out of air. "Is this it?" she wondered, "Is this how I will end my life? Please God, no. I must survive to see my Sir once again." She was about to give up but as soon as she stopped struggling the stranger lifted his foot enough for her to start breathing again. She could feel the hot tears forming in her eyes. This could not possibly be her beloved Sir. He had never been this violent with her.

A sinking feeling took over her mind as she began to really fear for her life. If this was not her Sir who could it possibly be? And what was he planning to do? She loved her Sir and she had learned to trust him. She was willing to submit to anything He wanted because He had always taken care not to harm her, but she felt sure now that this stranger was not Him and that he would not care if he really hurt her. Trying to hold back her tears so the stranger would not see how afraid she was she willed her whole body to go limp and she laid as still as she could.

"That's better," he said. Then he rolled her over with his foot. She looked at him with great fear in her eyes. He kicked her thigh with the toe of his big thick black boot. "Don't look at me you dam fuck bitch," he growled and kicked her again.

"Yes Sir," she said as she lowered her eyes from his face. However, she could see everything else about him very clearly and was disappointed to find that there was simply nothing to distinguish him from anyone she knew.

The stranger stooped down and grabbed her smooth shaven cunt with his hand and squeezed it hard. Cher stifled a painful groan. This man was beyond rough she thought. Holding her cunt tightly in one hand he reached across and slapped her face again. "You will do exactly as I say do you understand slut?" Then from nowhere he produced a switchblade about six inches long and flipped it open with a click.

Cher's eyes widened, "Yesss Sir," she whined as she choked back a sob.

She was terrified as the man held the razor sharp blade to her cheek. He ran the blade over her cheek and slid it under her chin until it rested at her throat. Pressing down just enough for her to feel the pressure on her skin, he pressed the tip down on the middle of her neck. It hurt and she was afraid of feeling the puncture of skin and hot blood flowing from her. But then he moved the tip of the blade down the front of her chest and ran it around the outside of one of her breasts.

"Nice tits," he mumbled with an evil little chuckle, "How about if I cut this sweet little nipple off Pet?" The word Pet sent a chill down her spine. Her Sir was the only one who used that term with her. She strained to identify his voice again but he only used the low raspy voice from before.

"Please let it be Sir playing a prank on me," she thought.

Then the stranger pushed the tip of the blade up under the edge of her nipple and scrapped it up lifting the entire breast a little with the metal edge. Cher held her breath thinking he would surely tear the tender skin. This surely could not be her Sir because he would never cut her.

The stranger scrapped the nipple up and down and then went to the other nipple scrapping it harder than he did the first one. She caught her breath again. Then he ran the tip of the blade down the middle of her stomach and on down to her naked cunt. She watched him breathlessly as he ran the blade around her pubic area in little circles. Once he pressed a little harder and she half stifled a groan. The eyes behind the mask became hard and cold as he pressed the tip down harder.

She held her breath, but the man was not cutting her so she thought maybe it was her Sir trying to thrill her with a good scare, a mind fuck, as he would call it. She told herself that this must be her Sir and that she was safe. She relaxed a little and chanced a look at his face. She half expected to recognize a smiling glint in his eyes for her. This must be Sir. Still staring at her the man acknowledged her glance with an angry gaze.

"So the fucking little bitch cannot keep her trap shut or do as she is told can she?" he spat.

Still holding her bare pussy with one hand he pinched her hard, twisting her pussy lips as he did. She gasped and turned her eyes from his gaze. Then he held the switchblade up and flipped it closed and open again with a loud click. Before she knew it he pressed the sharp tip of the knife about two inches above her pussy where he was squeezing her and pressed down until the pain was unbearable. Cher bit her lip in an attempt to not cry out. She felt him cutting into her tender skin and then the hot blood began to trickle down the middle of her groin to the top of her pussy lips.

She could not believe her eyes. He had cut her. The shock of seeing her bleeding pussy paralyzed her. She could not breathe, she could not move, she could not utter a sound. She could only stare open mouthed at the blood flowing down her cunt. This wasn't her Sir. How could it be?

It took all her strength not to cry out as the hot tears began to flow down her cheeks. The pain was incredible, but when she took a peek she saw that it was only a thin trickle of blood that ran down the front of her and gathered in a tiny pool at the top of her pussy. She realized that the stranger knew what he was doing. He could have cut her badly, but it was as if he knew just how far to go and how deep to cut to produce pain and blood without causing a lot of damage. In fact the little bit of blood was already drying.

Still the realization that he had cut her sickened her. Suddenly she hated him. She stiffened and pressed her butt down against the carpet in an attempt to bear the sting of the cut, but she stayed as quiet as a mouse. Only her tears showed the effects of her ordeal as she tried to press her legs together in an attempt to make him release his hold on her pussy lips.

He pinched her cunt again as hard as he could and she bit her lip. "Don't try to resist me you cock sucking fuck whore," and he pinched and twisted her pussy until she unlocked her legs.

Then sinking to his knees the stranger straddled her hips and he laid the knife down on the carpet near her side. With an involuntary reflex she strained against the cuffs that held her wrists immobile beneath her. Her hands and arms were getting numb from being in that position and she needed to relieve the pressure in them. She wished that her hands were free. As she looked at the man in black straddling her she felt rage building inside of her. She wished she could grab the knife and drive it into his heart.

As if he read her mind he drew his hand back and slapped her face again. She turned her head to the side as she tried again not to make a sound. "What's the matter whore? Dont you like this? Isn't this what is supposed to happen to dirty little sluts?" And, he slapped her with his other hand.

Then he began to slap her tittles. He hit the outside of her tit with a hard smacking sound. Then he hit the inside. Then he slapped her titty back and forth from one side then the other harder and harder. Then he hit the other one with his other hand. Before she knew it he was slapping both titties back and forth. It startled her, but she did not dislike it.