Evil Eva

by Ivy

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© Copyright 2023 - Ivy - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; F+/f; bond; collar; cuffs; rope; gag; leash; crotchrope; whip; punish; hogtie; sendep; cons; X

Continues from

Part 4

Alice and I took Monday and Tuesday off work to recover from our ordeal. We were both exhausted, sore all over and it had been a scary experience which had traumatised us both. It was hard to believe it was over, and I had a nagging doubt at the back of my mind that it wasn’t. Somehow, I expected Eva to reappear and something terrible would happen. As we slowly recovered, Alice and I discussed the events of the weekend.

“Eva can’t just disappear without anyone noticing or asking questions,” Alice remarked as we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast on Tuesday morning. “When I go back into work, I can tell them that she has suddenly left the company, but after a while the police are sure to come round and ask questions. I don’t know much about her personal life, but she must have parents, friends, lovers, someone who is wondering where she is. And, honestly, I don’t know what to tell the police.”

“Can’t you just tell them the truth but miss out Jeannie’s involvement?” I asked. “I know you don’t want to tell them the full story, but surely you don’t want to lie to them either?”

“I’m going to have to think about it,” Alice replied. “I’m not thinking too straight at the moment. I guess it will take a few days before she’s missed so I’ve got a bit of time.” She lapsed into a thoughtful silence and sipped her coffee.

“I know she’s been terrible to us both,” I said, “but I still feel bad about where she’s ended up. It sounded like a life of absolute misery at Madam Gillespie’s and, despite everything, I don’t think she deserved that. Also, there may be other girls suffering there. Can’t we do something, somehow?”

“I am starting to feel bad about that too,” said Alice, “despite the fact that I hate her for what she’s done. But we don’t have any information; we don’t know Paula or where she is. I tried to get hold of Jeannie but the number we had for her is dead. As for Madam Gillespie, if that is her name, we’ve no idea. Even if we went to the police and told them everything, which I don’t want to do, there would be very little information for them to go on. I think we’ll just have to wait until Jeannie reappears.”

Days passed, and then weeks, and life returned to normal for both of us. No one came asking questions to either of our workplaces or to our home. There was nothing in the national or local news. It was very strange; it was as though Eva had never existed. And I started to relax, although I still felt awful whenever I thought about Eva and what her life must now be like.

As for Alice and I, our relationship had changed and got stronger since the events of that weekend. It was as if Alice’s experience of being tied up, dominated and being totally controlled by someone else had had the effect of reinforcing her dominant personality. And for me, whilst the experience had scared me and hurt me, it had made me realize that I was truly submissive at heart. I had been pushed way beyond my limits, but in some ways, looking back, I was grateful for that. I now knew I could cope with much more pain and discomfort than I ever would have imagined.

Now at weekends, and at times during the week, I became Alice’s slave. As soon as she locked a collar round my neck, which could be at any time, I assumed this role which I loved. Sometimes it was the shock collar, which I still dreaded. At other times, she fitted me with a wide leather collar which made me keep my chin up; a posture collar she called it. And when we were due to go out, I wore a slim, stylish metal band around my neck which didn’t attract attention but was impossible for me to take off.

During these periods when I was a slave, Alice controlled every aspect of my life. I was always naked unless she dictated otherwise. And I was always bound, chained or restricted in some way, often very comprehensively. I had to obey her every command immediately and precisely otherwise I was punished – and that happened frequently. Sometimes she whipped or caned me till I cried, other times she would put me in some bondage predicament until I begged for release. 

On one memorable occasion she tied my hands tightly behind my back and attached some painful clamps to my nipples. She then dragged me outside by the chain connecting the clamps and pulled the chain upwards over a hook on the wall so that I had to stand on tiptoes. Finally, she stuffed a large ball gag in my mouth and left me as it started to rain. I don’t know how long she left me, but I was soaked, freezing and very cramped and sore with tears running down my cheeks when she finally released me. And all because, she said, I hadn’t cleaned the kitchen floor properly. But then she was so caring and loving to me afterwards that I forgave her almost immediately. She knew how much I had suffered through that punishment, and it became something that she could threaten me with – the hook as she called it.

When she didn’t need me for some task, she would put me in what she called “storage”. This usually meant that I was tied up and left somewhere out of the way. I really quite enjoyed being “stored”. It certainly could be boring, but I generally found it quite relaxing. I was always tied effectively but not uncomfortably and after I’d accepted the position mentally, I found a kind of calm and tranquility engulfed me. 

It was a very wet Sunday morning five weeks after our kidnap ordeal and I was clearing up the breakfast dishes in my capacity as a slave. I was naked, of course, and wearing the posture collar. My wrists were handcuffed in front of me.

“I’ve got a couple of hours work to do this morning,” Alice announced, “and then I thought we could go into town and grab a late lunch somewhere. So, until then, I’m going to put you in storage. Go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, do anything else you need to do and meet me by the post in the bedroom with the box in ten minutes.”

“Yes Mistress.”

I did as Alice instructed and a few minutes later was standing next to the square wooden post, part of the structure of our old cottage. The box, which contained all our bondage paraphernalia, was on the floor beside me. Alice appeared a couple of minutes later and unlocked and removed my handcuffs.

“Hands behind the post,” she ordered as she reached into the box. She then proceeded to cross my wrists and tie them firmly with multiple loops of the cotton rope and two knots. Lots more rope followed and soon I was thoroughly immobilized, tied at ankles, knees, waist, wrists and elbows with multiple attachments to the post. She criss-crossed the rope above and below my breasts and added a crotch rope with a large knot in just the right place. She then stood back and inspected her handiwork.

“Perfect, you’re not going anywhere. I may come in and add some extras later. In the meantime, not a sound, slave.”

I nodded as best I could. She caressed my breasts, pulled the crotch rope a few times, then left the room, closing the door. I pulled at my wrists, realised there was no chance that I could free myself, then relaxed as I gazed at the rain through the bedroom window. There are worse ways to spend a Sunday morning, I reflected as I squirmed enjoyably against the crotch rope. After a while, my mind started drifting all over the place as it frequently does when I’m tied up. I was thinking of songs we’d learnt at school when the door burst open and an irritated looking Alice appeared.

“Stop humming! I said not a sound. Are you trying to annoy me on purpose?’

“No Mistress…” I stammered. “I didn’t realise I was humming. I’m sorry.”

Alice pinched each of my nipples hard, making me wince. She reached into the box and selected a large ball gag which she crammed into my mouth and strapped tightly in place. Grabbing a roll of tape, she proceeded to wind it over the ball gag and round the post several times. This had the effect of pushing the ball further into my mouth and fixing my head in place so that I could hardly move it.

“Now, shut up!” she snapped at me and stalked out of the room, leaving the door open this time presumably so she could keep an eye on me. “And don’t think your punishment is over,” she called from the other room as she settled back down at her desk.

Time passed and I worried about what the further punishment might be. Alice continued working with the occasional glance at me. An hour or so passed, I guessed, and I was experiencing a significant amount of discomfort. My jaw was aching, and I had drooled and soaked the lower part of tape over my mouth. Also, the back of my head hurt where it was pressed hard against the post. I was wondering how long I would have to stay like this when I heard the doorbell ring. Alice got up and closed the door to the bedroom.

I heard the door open, some muffled words, and Alice and the visitor moved into the lounge. I couldn’t really hear the discussion but the visitor’s voice sounded familiar. After a couple of minutes, to my surprise, the door to the bedroom opened and Jeannie stood in front of me grinning. She looked tanned and relaxed and beautiful as ever.

“Good to see you have things under control, Alice,” she commented and proceeded to caress my breasts in a way that made me forget about my discomfort. “However, I need to speak to you both, so could we bring Emma into the lounge?”

“Ok,” Alice replied. “If you do that, I’ll make us some coffee.”

Alice disappeared heading towards the kitchen, and I felt a twinge of fear as Jeannie approached me. She ran her hands all over my body and tweaked the crotch rope a few times. 

“You look so good all tied up, Emma,” she commented as she started to unravel the tape round my head. She proceeded to undo the ropes round my ankles, waist and upper body which had fixed me to the post, then proceeded to retie them. I realised I wasn’t going to be free at any time in this process. 

“Now I’m going to untie your hands. You’re going to then turn to face the post and put your hands behind your back. Don’t give me any trouble, Emma.”

I’d had enough experience with Jeannie to know that obeying her was far the best strategy. I meekly did as I was told and soon my hands were firmly tied in position behind my back again. Jeannie grabbed a couple of lengths of rope and fed one through the D-ring on my collar to form a leash.

“Hop!” she instructed and pulled on the leash.

I hopped, conscious of my breasts bouncing as I did so under Jeannie’s lustful and amused gaze. She dragged me into the lounge and pulled our large, padded stool into the middle of the room. She dragged me to the stool. I could hear Alice busy in the kitchen.

“Kneel!” she ordered. I knelt and she pushed me forward so the upper half of my body was on the stool, my head hanging over the other side.

“Don’t move.”

Once again, I obeyed. She pulled on the rope leash, fed it under the stool, up between my thighs and up and around the gag strap. Then she pulled harder and harder until my head was forced back, finally tying the rope off somewhere behind my back. I was now compelled to look directly forward. The gag cut in painfully at the sides of my mouth and the rope was horribly tight in my crotch. I dreaded what was coming next.

“One more rope,” said Jeannie in a cheery voice as she looped the rope around my wrists. She then passed it across my body, under the stool and back to my wrists where she tied it off very tightly. This had the effect of pinioning my wrists to my back and squeezing me against the stool. I could move very little and was in a lot of discomfort.

“Perfect,” said Jeannie as she sat down in a chair opposite me.

A moment later, out of the corner of her eye, I saw Alice enter the room with a tray of coffee and place it on the table.

“Jeannie, I’m impressed,” she said, looking at my predicament.

“I do my best. You said she was due a punishment, so I thought I’d put her in a good position. I’d like to help you if I may.”

“Of course,” Alice replied. “The coffee needs time to brew, no time like the present.”

Alice left the room and a moment later stood in front of me with a short leather whip and a thin wooden cane. My stress level went through the roof, and I tried to plead through the gag. However, it was pulled so tightly back into my mouth that nothing remotely intelligible came out. They both ignored me.

“Take your pick,” said Alice, offering both to Jeannie who chose the whip. “Shall we say six each, taking it in turns?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jeannie replied. “Emma, ok with you?”

Once again, I tried to beg, but all that came out was garble and drool. They both laughed.

“I think that was a yes,” said Jeannie, moving out of my field of vision. “Shall I go first?”

“Be my guest.”

The whip cracked across my buttocks and I let out a muffled howl of pain. I also jerked my body with the shock of it, causing extra pain around my mouth and crotch. I had no chance to recover before a crack from the cane sent me into spasm again. And so it continued for ten more agonising blows until finally it was over. Tears were streaming down my face, I was sobbing uncontrollably and hyperventilating. Alice approached me, took my face in her hands and kissed me tenderly several times. She then untied the rope pulling my head back and gently removed the gag. My head fell forward, and I sobbed and sobbed. Alice gently lifted my head.

“What do you say, Emma?”

“I’m sorry mistress. Thank you for my punishment,” I stammered falteringly between the tears.

“And to Jeannie?”

I didn’t really know what to say to Jeannie, but I didn’t want to risk any more strokes with the cane or whip.

“I’m sorry, Mistress Jeannie. Thank you for my punishment.”

“You’re so welcome, darling,” said Jeannie. She knelt in front of me and kissed me passionately on the lips. She then stood up, threw her arms round Alice and kissed her equally passionately, something Alice seemed to enjoy a great deal. I wondered if I had missed something, I didn’t think Alice even liked Jeannie.

Between them they freed me from the stool and helped me on to the sofa, leaving my wrists and ankles bound. It was far too painful to sit normally so I curled on to my side and slowly began to recover as I listened to Alice and Jeannie chatting about Jeannie’s trip to the Mediterranean.

“Well, I have some news,” Jeannie announced after a few minutes, “and it’s not good. Eva escaped!”

“From Madam Gillespie’s?” Alice asked.

“No, she never got there. Paula crashed the car on a remote stretch of road a couple of miles away from Madam’s. Apparently, she swerved to avoid a deer and went off the side of the road and down a steep embankment. Next thing she remembers is waking up in hospital. She’s in a bad way, broken vertebrae, ribs, leg. It’s going to take her a long time to recover, if she ever does fully.”

“So, what happened to Eva,” I asked, “Is she in hospital too?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jeannie. “I made some discreet enquiries, but there’s no record of her being brought in. Somehow, she must have gotten away and eventually got back home. This would explain why the police haven’t been around asking about her. Her friends and family haven’t reported her missing.”

“But how could she have gotten away? She was drugged and I presume bound in the back of the van.” Alice asked.

“I asked Paula that. Yes, Eva was drugged and tied up but what she thinks happened is that the van door burst open in the crash. Paula has no idea how long it was till she was rescued, so she assumes that the drug wore off, and somehow Eva got free from the ropes and made her escape. Obviously, Paula hasn’t mentioned that Eva was in the van to anyone. I guess Eva has figured out that no one is going to say anything about the whole event, so she is laying low for now.”

“And knowing Eva, I imagine she’ll be planning some revenge strategy,” said Alice. “She’s lost her job, her car, had a traumatic experience in which she was nearly enslaved, and I expect her two accomplices are after her for the money she promised them for helping her steal from the company. And she must hate all of us with a vengeance.”

I was getting more and more worried as this conversation progressed.

“What can we do?” I asked. “We can hardly ask for police protection without telling them the whole story. She knows where we live, where we work, everything.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” said Jeannie. “We just have to be vigilant and hope that Eva eventually decides just to move on. But it is worrying. Alice, you must have some contact details for her. Can you try to find out something?”

“I’ll try,” said Alice, “but I’ll have to be careful. I don’t want to rattle her cage and spur her into action. Maybe she’s just going to lick her wounds for a while then start again somewhere else – with luck. Anyway, enough of this, we were going to go out for lunch. Would you like to join us, Jeannie?”

“I’d love to, thanks,” said Jeannie. “What about darling Emma here? Does that mean we have to untie her? She looks so attractive there, shifting around in the ropes trying to avoid sitting normally.”

I said nothing and looked at Alice.

“She’s had her punishment, of course she can come,” said Alice. “But she’s still in slave mode.”

Alice reached over and untied my hands and feet.

“Thank you, Mistress.” I stood up and stretched.

“Fifteen minutes.” Alice instructed and I headed off to get ready.

I was as quick as I could but dithered trying to choose something to wear that covered up the rope marks. Nevertheless, I thought I was back in time. But Alice thought differently.

“Seventeen minutes, slave. You just forfeited lunch with us. Take all your clothes off and lie on the sofa with your hands behind your back. Jeannie, would you like to do the honours?”

“Love to,” said Jeannie, picking up the rope from the floor.

“But Mistress,” I started to say but howled with pain as Alice slapped me hard across my very tender backside.

“Clothes off and on the sofa, now!”

Wordlessly, I obeyed, and Jeannie began to tie me up again. Ropes were swiftly and tightly applied and soon I was struggling in a strict hogtie. They both stood and looked at me.

“Why can’t you just obey instructions, Emma?”, Alice asked. “They are simple enough, surely. Silence means silence; fifteen minutes means fifteen minutes. By now you could have been on your way to lunch with us but instead you will have to endure that tight hogtie for the next hour and a half. And as further punishment, because I’m annoyed with you, I’m going to put you in sensory deprivation. I know it scares you.”

She was right, it did scare me. Whenever she did that to me, I had great trouble controlling rising feelings of panic.

“Please Mistress…” I started to say.

“Too late, slave. I’ve made my decision.” Alice snapped, as Jeannie looked on, grinning. She stuffed plugs roughly into both my ears and then picked up the discipline hood and pulled it over my head. Moments later it was strapped firmly in place and I was stuck in a dark silent scary world, all alone. At least, I presumed I was all alone, I didn’t hear them leave.

As usual, my mind soon started playing tricks on me. Had they left? Was someone else there? Could I smell smoke? Suppose someone broke in? I struggled against the ropes but Jeannie had tied me far too well and there was no way out. I tried to accept my situation and relax but the panicked feelings kept coming back. I willed Alice and Jeannie to come back soon.

Time passed, or I suppose it did. I had no way of measuring it and, with my mind firing off in all directions, really no way of assessing it. Nevertheless, it seemed to be a lot less than an hour and a half before I jumped with shock as I felt someone undoing the buckles on the hood. It was lifted off my head from behind and at the same time, a ball gag was crammed into my mouth and strapped in tightly. I twisted my head to try to see who it was, and my heart sank. Eva moved into my field of vision and smiled her cruel smile. Fear pulsed through me.

“Hello, Emma,” she said with a nasty grin. “We’ve been here before. Each time I come to your place, you seem to be tied up and helpless. Makes things a lot easier for me, but I can’t help thinking you must be a very bad girl.”

She ran her hands over the welts criss-crossing my buttocks. “A very, very bad girl. But that’s a nice pattern you have. Perhaps I can add to it.”

And with a toss of her hair, she picked up the whip.


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