1 comments/ 31703 views/ 8 favorites The Servant Ch. 01 By: caligula97236 Chapter 01 - Santa Eduviges Island. Trish Bousquet quietly stared through the airplane window of her first-class seat at the calm Caribbean waters below. The colors she saw were truly special, unique to that part of the world... the brilliant turquoise water punctuated with ragged reefs and dotted with dark green islands. She reflected that she had been in so many places, but there was nothing like the Caribbean, with its beach resorts, diving, party scene and raves...which combined heat and luscious beauty with a hint of ever-present risk and danger. To the woman's restless soul, the Caribbean offered so much more than the comparatively dull social scene in Europe. She always thought about going back to the tropics...always in search of new adventure. Trish smiled as she thought about all the things in her life that she had gotten away with. She was not grateful for her narrow escapes, but instead bored thinking about the past and looking forward to new adrenaline rushes. 24 years on the planet had not taught her much common sense. She was a trust-fund heiress who had never had to deal with any responsibilities. In her private school she was considered one of the worst students, but a couple of generous donations from her trust fund manager to the institution ensured she stayed enrolled no matter what. Same thing in college...funny how a girl who doesn't go to class can still get through...with the right kind of persuasion to the right people. Then there were the DUI's. Yep...Trish had plenty of those under her belt as well...but you know...campaign contributions smooth over plenty of those problems on top of everything else. Up to that point money had made Trish Bousquet untouchable. At that very moment Trish was having a new adventure. She may have done plenty of bizarre things in the past, but most of it paled compared to what she was doing on the plane. If she were caught, she'd face serious legal problems, and very likely a jail sentence. Inside her body she was carrying cocaine, a full kilo divided into pellets that she had swallowed before going to the airport and boarding her flight. She was doing it not because she needed to, but simply because she never said "no" to doing something crazy: never said "no" to doing something that would leave her friends gasping with amazement. As for what she was doing at that moment; two weeks earlier she made a bet with her friends in Baton Rouge that she could smuggle a kilo of cocaine into the US from a foreign location. The agreement was that she had to fly, alone, to the country of her choice, figure out the best way to smuggle the cocaine, return to the US, and then, in front of her friends, present the evidence. So...why the cocaine? Hell...Trish could buy a kilo of cocaine, no problem. Ten kilos...maybe even 20. She was doing this dare because her spoiled life had addicted her to being outrageous. She loved putting herself into dangerous situations...the more bizarre the better. She loved it when people looked at her and said "Oh my God! Do you see what's she's doing?" So...for nothing more than bragging rights over doing something that her party friends would never dare do themselves...and for having the satisfaction of watching a room full of people get high on cocaine that she herself had delivered, Trish had decided to make the trip. Her boyfriend's drug source was the one who set Trish up with a contact in Panama. At first she thought that she was going to carry the cocaine in a concealed suitcase, but the Panamanian told her that she'd be better off swallowing the cocaine in pellets...much less likely to get caught. When the rich girl showed a hint of reluctance the dealer noted: "I thought you wanted to have the real drug smuggling experience. This is it muchacha: it's the way we move drugs in our organization." So...Trish spent a couple of days in Panama City getting ready for her adventure. She practiced swallowing whole grapes and hotdog pieces until she could overcome her gagging reflex. Finally she was ready...she swallowed 90 grape-sized pellets of cocaine, all of them wrapped in bluish plastic and tightly sealed on the ends. She headed to the airport and boarded her flight, thinking how great it would be to see everyone's faces when they realized how she had brought them their coke. Nope...24 years on the planet had not taught Trish Bousquet any common sense whatsoever. ---------- Trish' pleasant thoughts were interrupted when suddenly the plane jerked. Then there was a strange series of clicks. The warning lights came on. Then came a loud whooshing sound. The aircraft began rocking from side to side as the cabin filled with the frightened murmurings of the passengers. The pilots managed to get the rocking under control after a few minutes, but everyone could see that the aircraft was losing altitude. The plane approached the ocean, then leveled off only a few hundred feet above the water. The pilot finally announced the obvious: the aircraft was having mechanical difficulties and would have to make an emergency landing. "Folks...looks like we're cleared for an emergency landing in Santa Eduviges. We'll be touching down in about five minutes." The sudden drop in altitude made Trish sick. A spasm of pain worked through her intestines. Unlike her fellow passengers, she was not frightened by the whooshing and strange noises coming from the plane...because she had a much more immediate problem; trying not to throw up. This was not good. Trish had been confident of making to Miami, but she knew that she could not keep the pellets down if her plane had to make an extra stop. The aching and nausea sweeping through her body made her wonder if what she was doing was really such a great idea, if taking such a risk really was worth the bragging rights she could enjoy if she made it home. The plane hit the runway with a jolt. The pilots immediately hit the reverse thrusters. The aircraft tilted to the right and some of the passengers started screaming. Barely, but just barely, the pilots managed to correct the direction and avoid touching the wing on the ground. There was another scary jolt as the left wheels hit the pavement. There was a bounce, a distinct pop, and then, finally, all the plane's wheels were safely on the pavement and the aircraft slowed. The screaming changed over to nervous cheering and clapping. The pilots pulled up to a set of small buildings and a newly-built control tower. With a sigh of relief the cockpit crew announced: "Well, folks...welcome to Santa Eduviges International Airport...and after our little adventure in the sky, quite a site she is..." Several workers rolled staircases to the front and back doors of the plane. The pilots emerged from the cabin; trembling, pale, and drenched in sweat. That detail alone told everyone how close the plane had come to crashing. The crew nervously shook passengers' hands as they got off. Trish fought off nausea as she descended the staircase into the intense heat of the tropical afternoon. She got a quick look at the locals, who were the mixed-Creole descendants of a succession of Spanish, French, and British settlers and their African slaves. They were dressed practically for their environment, all of the airport workers and officers, both men and women, wore light-colored uniforms with short-sleeved shirts and cargo shorts. Among the officials there was a police woman who caught Trish's attention. She might have been a couple of years older than Trish. The police officer was darker-skinned than most of her co-workers, reflecting her mostly African ancestry. The woman was attractive, but had a no-nonsense look on her face. At first glance she seemed to have an ordinary figure, but Trish then noticed that her arms were muscular. The officer was tough-looking, definitely not one a normal person would want to get into a fight with. When the traveler noticed the officer's badge, there was a strange coincidence; the woman's nameplate read "Bousquet". Odd...it turned out that Trish and the island woman shared the same last name. Several island cops and custom officials surrounded the passengers and guided them towards a double trailer that seemed in somewhat better shape than most of the other buildings. The officials pointed at a row of metal detectors through which everyone would have to pass before being allowed into the main part of the airport. Trish was nervous, not because of the metal detector, but because the heat was making her sicker than ever. If she could just get through those detectors, she'd find a bathroom. The nausea had convinced her that what she was doing wasn't worth it. She'd get rid of her cocaine, go home, buy some the normal way, and make up a cover story. To hell with completing this dare...it was just stupid. Life is extremely ironic, however. Just as Trish was starting to develop a hint of common sense and beginning to understand that not everything in this world is worth trying, her life was about to take a turn she never expected. The Servant Ch. 02 Chapter 02 -- The holding cell The metal detector went off when she tried to go through screening. The airport employee called over the tough-looking female officer, the one who shared Trish' last name. The island cop's eyes scanned Trish with a strange expression; curiosity mixed with impatience and a hint of contempt. The cop grabbed Trish by the shoulders and forced her to walk through the machine. When it beeped, Officer Bousquet ordered Trish to take off her belt and shoes. Trish went through the metal detector only to have the machine beep again. There were several attempts to pass her through the machine, each of which resulted in a beep and an order to remove an item from her body. First her jewelry, then the stud in her eyebrow. The officer patted Trish on the hips and thighs, found nothing, and sent her through again. No good, the machine still beeped. "Unbutton your blouse." "What?" "You will unbutton your blouse and open it." "In the airport? No! Fuck no!" "You will unbutton your blouse and open it. I order you." "Fuck you! I'm not unbuttoning my fucking blouse for you!" Before Trish realized what was happening, the cop grabbed her right arm, twisted it behind her back, cuffed her hand, then cuffed her other hand. With no further words, Officer Bousquet immobilized Trish with a painful grip on her neck and forced her to walk out a side door and into cinderblock building. Two female cops and a woman in a medical smock were waiting inside the second building. The moment Officer Bousquet and her captive entered the room, the other three snapped to attention. With a quick nod, the officer ordered her two subordinates to grab Trish' arms. Now that the captive was immobilized, it was time to teach the arrogant tourist a little about island respect. The officer fiercely slapped Trish across the face. She hit her so hard that the prisoner was stunned for a few seconds. Blood dripped out of her nose. Officer Bousquet pinched the prisoner's chin with a powerful grip of her thumb and forefinger and forced her to look her in the eye. "That was for 'fuck you'. On this island you will not address a police officer in such a manner." Trish was so stunned and terrified that she could not speak. No one had ever hit her before. The officer ordered one of the assistants to unlock the cuffs restraining the prisoner's hands. Trish immediately held her throbbing cheek, but Officer Bousquet tapped her chest. "Now, will you unbutton your blouse, or do you wish to be struck again?" Her hands trembled as she opened her blouse. The officer flicked a piece of jewelry that she was wearing on her belly button. She directed her next order to the woman in the medical smock "Take that off." With a quick snip from a pair of sturdy medical scissors the assistant cut the ring in Trish' stomach. She carefully worked it out of the captive's skin and handed it to the cop, who tossed it to the side of the room. One of the assistants brought a metal detector wand and handed it to Officer Bousquet. When the rod passed over Trish' chest, it beeped again. The officer ordered Trish to take off both her blouse and her bra. The burning ache in the American's cheek ensured that she would obey. Once Trish was naked from the waist up, the officers saw why the metal detector had alerted. Trish was wearing nipple rings. The three cops and their assistant, who had never seen anything like that before, flinched in disgust. "You will remove those sick things from yourself. And if you enjoy hurting...we are experts, you know...experts. We can make you suffer..." "I...officer...I can't...they're kinda...permanent." "No...not permanent at all." The medical assistant stepped forward and cut the two nipple rings and removed them. Trish cringed...because her nipples were not the only part of her body where she still had jewelry. Officer Bousquet waved her metal wand yet again, and as soon as the device moved over the captive's crotch, it went off. The two subordinates continued to tightly hold the prisoner while Officer Bousquet jerked her skirt and panties to the floor. Trish shook with terror as the cop studied her pussy, which was completely hairless from depilation treatments. Fascinated...the island woman ran her hand over the smooth skin. Then she noticed that Trish's stomach was bloated. Hmm...interesting. She ran her hand over the captive's abdomen and pressed down. Trish grunted from pain. The young woman's stomach was hard. The whole thing now looked very suspicious. The officer suspected she knew what it was. However, she wanted to know why that metal detector kept going off before pursuing anything else. She pinched Trish' inner thigh and ordered her to spread her feet. Her heart pounding from terror and her face flushed with shame, Trish complied, clumsily moving her feet apart. The cop crouched and spread the captive's pussy lips. OK...so there was the answer...the crazy girl had a ring on her clit! Officer Bousquet ordered her subordinates to force the prisoner to bend backwards over a table, while the woman in the medical smock cut off the last of the offending jewelry. The cop waved the wand yet again to assure herself that there was no other metal in weird places. Then she ordered the assistants to flip Trish over on her stomach. The women clamped down hard on her arms while the medical assistant changed surgical gloves. Trish saw the policewoman grab something off the wall. It was a whip. It was about two feet long with a six-inch handle and three 18-inch leather tails. It was a frightening-looking object, especially for a prisoner who was helplessly bent over a table in an interrogation room full of cruel cops. Officer Bousquet cracked the whip on the table and showed it to her captive to let her know there would be no resistance...or else. As she lay bent over the table and the medical assistant lubricated her bottom-hole, Trish understood that she already was in serious trouble, and it was about to get much worse. The moment that woman's finger went up into her bottom, Trish would have a lot more to worry about besides simply disrespecting a Caribbean Island police officer in a sub-standard airport. With her whip ready to strike at the smallest hint of resistance, the officer watched with fascination as her assistant pushed apart the prisoner's bottom-cheeks. Officer Bousquet struggled to maintain a cold professional demeanor. Against her wishes, she began to find the young prisoner extremely attractive. There was something intensely erotic about Trish' white skin and hairless body, especially given that she was being held down and was totally helpless. The police woman resisted the urge to run her fingertips over the American's bald vulva and smooth bottom. She pushed aside her budding sexual interest in the captive and limited herself to warning her to not dare move during the examination...or else... Unfortunately, Trish couldn't help herself. She knew that there was no way the cops would not discover what she had in her stomach, but she struggled anyway, moving from side to side to keep the medical assistant from getting her finger into her bottom. Officer Bousquet nodded at her subordinate to get out of the way. CRACK...CRACK!!! Trish screamed as the pain from the two whip strokes seared into her backside. She couldn't believe how much it hurt. The scream faded into terrified sobs. The officer and medical assistant watched as six reddish welts rose up on the prisoner's tender skin. Both women noted that yes indeed...white skin really marks nicely. The contrast between the reddening welts and the pale unmarked flesh that surrounded them highlighted the girl's total helplessness and vulnerability. Watching the prisoner's pale skin and reddening welts proved too much for Officer Bousquet. The cop no longer could resist her desire to run her hand over her prisoner's bottom, touching the soft skin and raised whip marks. She was totally fascinated with her captive, to the point of ignoring the curious looks she was getting from her three subordinates. She felt the urge to gently kiss the welts, then put her face between... The cop snapped out of her fantasy, embarrassed at having such thoughts towards a foreign prisoner. She resumed her cold, authoritative voice: "Now you have felt the whip, Trish Bousquet. You will feel it again and again until you cooperate. You belong to the National Police of Santa Eduviges now. Whatever is your stomach also belongs to us. So you will submit and you will share. You will submit and share, either before I whip you, or after I whip you. That choice is yours. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" Still crying, Trish forced herself to nod. The officer tightened her lips and laid another vicious blow into the foreigner's helpless bottom. As soon as the captive's scream died down the officer continued: "You will show me proper respect, Trish Bousquet. You will not nod when I ask you a question. You will address me as Officer Bousquet. That should be easy for you, because you will notice that we have the same last name. Interesting, is that not?" After a moment of silence, during which the only sound in the room was the quiet sobbing of the prisoner, the officer twisted backwards and there was another vicious CRACK!!! "I asked you a question, Trish Bousquet, and you will answer. Don't you find it interesting that we have the same last name?" "I...I...ohhhhhhh...I...yes, Officer Bousquet...that's interesting." "Good girl. Now maybe we have an understanding. I will ask the questions. You will answer the questions. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" "I...I...Oooooohooooo...yes, Officer." "Now, another simple tasking. You have something hidden inside of you. I want to extract it and find out what it is. You will cooperate. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" CRACK!!! "Aieeeeeee! OW! Please...I can't..." "Then you will cooperate." Trish cried, but she quit moving. She was defeated. There was no point in trying to put off the inevitable: they were going to find the cocaine and that was the end of it. She hated to think of the hassle this would cause her trust fund manager. She knew that eventually she'd get out of it...but it might be several days...or even a couple of weeks...and who knew what would happen in the meantime? The prisoner winced as a rough finger worked its way up her bottom. A couple of seconds later the medical assistant triumphantly extracted a bluish grape-sized oval and showed it to Officer Bousquet. She heard the cop's voice: "Very good, Intern Bruneau. See how many more she's got." For the next several minutes Trish winced as the medical assistant dug around her intestines, in search of bluish ovals. After extracting 12 more she commented: "Officer, I believe she should have an enema, and also she should have her stomach emptied." "Very well. Let's do her stomach first." With a snap of her fingers, the officer ordered her assistants to pull Trish off the table and force her onto her hands and knees on the floor. The medical assistant placed a large metal bowl under the prisoner's face. Then she put a cloth mask over Trish' mouth. The prisoner was terrified and struggled. The officer struck her hard across her welt-covered bottom. Trish screamed as the assistant held the mask firmly over her nose. There was a whiff of a foul-smelling chemical that instantly made her gag. She threw up...several times...emptying her stomach into the bowl. She momentarily passed out, but the medical assistant grabbed her hair and the officer struck her yet again with the whip. Trish cried, retched, and expelled a couple more of the pellets. The bowl now contained more than half of the cocaine she had been carrying. Officer Bousquet coldly pondered the sick, broken, humiliated woman kneeling on the floor. She was a good judge of character and saw Trish for what she was...a spoiled rich girl who had gotten away with a lot of crap in her life. Well rich girl, it's time to pay up. You won't be getting away with this one. She had in mind a cruel idea that would take away whatever dignity Trish still thought she might have. "Give her some water. Then I want you to take her out to the carwash area. Bring the enema bottle and call everyone who's not busy." ---------- A half an hour later the naked prisoner was led out of the interrogation room past a couple of trailers and a barracks. She was too scared and miserable to take much note of her surroundings. She had not heard the officer's last orders to her subordinates, so the only thing she knew was that she had been forced to drink some water and sit on the floor facing the wall. Now she was being dragged outside, naked, to a cement slab. A terrifying thought crossed her mind: was it possible they were going to shoot her? No, nothing like that, although what Officer Bousquet had in mind was not much better. A group of cops and airport security agents, mostly men but some women as well, were standing around the slab. Several had cameras and there were a couple of video recorders. Trish' captor kicked her shin and ordered her to get on her elbows and knees on the cement in the tropical sunlight. The hot surface burned her skin when she complied, but with her bottom already covered with searing welts, she dared not disobey. She looked up with horror when she saw the medical assistant approaching her with the enema bottle. The cop flexed the whip to remind her prisoner not to get any ideas about resisting. Trish cried as she felt the nozzle enter her exposed anus and push its way in. Her audience laughed and made lewd jokes and comments as they watched and took pictures of the hapless American. Trish closed her eyes as the assistant unclipped the hose and the warm water flowed into her intestines. She winced at the increasing pressure as the bag emptied. After several minutes, the medical assistant pulled out the nozzle. Trish overheard the men placing bets over how many pellets would come out of her once she expelled the water. The prisoner remained on her elbows and knees, thinking to herself: this can't be happening...this really can't be happening... Officer Bousquet ordered her two subordinates to pull Trish into a squatting position. "Release your water." Crying from total humiliation, Trish obeyed. Noxious brown water splashed onto the cement as she felt pellet after pellet exiting her bottom. When she was finished, one of the assistant officers forced her to stand upright and cuffed her hands behind her back. Trish heard one of the men announce: "Who guessed seventeen? That's what we've got, seventeen." Yes, indeed, there were seventeen pellets lying on the cement. Trish watched through teary eyes as the men handed over their cash to the one who had the right number. And the men were not done with her. Several wanted to pose with her, to get pictures of themselves with a naked American white girl. The medical assistant picked up the pellets. One of the lot attendants brought a hose and washed off the slab. Officer Bousquet ordered Trish to return to the slab, so she could be washed off as well. The grinning old man with the hose was very thorough with his task, washing her down several times and concentrating on squirting her sore bottom and the area between her legs. ---------- A few minutes later Trish was sitting on the floor in the back of a police van with her hands still cuffed behind her back. The vehicle was sweltering and had no windows, so she could not see where she was being taken. She tried to maintain her balance as the vehicle made several unexpected stops and turns. The most awful detail about the trip, however, was that she was still totally naked. When the van finally pulled to a stop, Officer Bousquet opened the back door and ordered her prisoner to get out. Trish emerged into the courtyard of a whitewashed colonial-era police station. The courtyard was hot from being blasted by the tropical sun all day, but after being in the oven-like van the air felt refreshing by comparison. The cop firmly gripped her prisoner's arm and led her inside. Just a couple of doors past the entrance, the two women entered a judicial hearing room. There was not much in the room except for some benches, a video recorder, the judge's desk, a flag, and the portrait of a man in a military uniform that Trish guessed must be the country's leader. Trish realized that her treatment as a prisoner was not anything out of the ordinary. She saw two naked young men, both of them Islanders, already kneeling near the judge's desk. Like Trish, their hands were cuffed behind their backs, and like Trish, they had been whipped. One of the men had been beaten about the same as Trish and just had whip marks on his bottom. The other, however, had been flogged much more severely and had dark welts covering his bottom, thighs, and shoulders. Officer Bousquet tapped Trish with her whip and ordered her to kneel next to the two men. Without her hands free to help her keep her balance, Trish struggled to get on her knees. She watched as her captor presented some papers to the judge. The medical assistant entered the room and handed over an evidence bag full of cocaine pellets. The two women talked to the judge for a few minutes. Officer Bousquet then pulled Trish' body jewelry from a pocket and showed it to the judge, who gave the prisoner a disgusted look. "Bring her before the desk." "Yes, your honor." Officer Bousquet grabbed Trish' arm, kicked her leg, and pulled her to her feet. She positioned the captive in front of the judge, who spent several minutes looking over her attractive figure. Finally he ordered the prisoner to kneel. The judge held up the pellets and addressed Trish: "Did you have this cocaine inside your body when you got off the plane?" Tears flowed down Trish' cheeks as she mumbled: "yes, your honor. I had it inside me." "Then, given your confession and the evidence Officer Bousquet and the other members of her unit have presented, this court finds you guilty of cocaine smuggling. Because of your reprehensible behavior and the threat you present to our society, you are sentenced to a life of servitude." The judge directed his next comment to Officer Bousquet: "You may remove your prisoner, Officer. Holding cell # 6 is available, so you can lock her up right away." Trish gasped. That was it? That was her trial? What the Hell? She gave the judge an exasperated look. Irritated at her show of arrogance, he queried: "Trish Bousquet, do you have anything to say to this court before you leave this room?" "I...I mean...like...I...don't I...like...get a defense attorney or something...or a call to the US Embassy? I mean...like in most places...?" "You are clearly guilty of drug smuggling, so what do you need a defense attorney for? And as for a call to the US Embassy, we cannot accommodate you. Santa Eduviges does not have diplomatic relations with the United States. Your State Department does not recognize the government of Generalissimo Renaud, so there is no US Embassy here. If we ever do get recognition, I'll grant you permission to contact your government." The judge turned to Officer Bousquet: "That is all. You may take her out." "Thank you, Your honor." ---------- Officer Bousquet and the medical assistant escorted Trish through several hallways full of police officers and staff members that were getting off work and heading home for the day. A lot of the men and a few women looked at her attractive body. She could do nothing to cover herself because her hands were still cuffed behind her back. Finally the three women went downstairs and entered a short hallway with eight sturdy metal doors. Trish realized that each door entered into a prisoner cell. The two officials pushed her inside one of the cells and took off her handcuffs. The cell was very small and had no lighting. It was totally empty except for a bottle of water and a strange-looking pot that had a lid on it. Seeing that the room had no toilet, Trish realized she was looking at a chamber-pot. Gross... There was nothing else, not even a mattress. Was this going to be her prison cell? The Servant Ch. 02 The two officials left the room and locked the door with a loud metallic clank. The prisoner gasped in the darkness. No...this couldn't be happening...to be in this horrible room...for...a lifetime...the judge said she was sentenced to a "lifetime of servitude". Was this where she was going to pass the rest of her life? ---------- Officer Bousquet dismissed the medical assistant and returned to the judge's office. She presented the remaining paperwork to the secretary for placement in Trish Bousquet's police record, then thanked him for seeing her prisoner ahead of the two young men. The judge responded that it was nothing, only logical given that Trish' case was very simple and there was no doubt about her guilt. The other two cases were more complicated, so there was no point in making the American wait. "So, Officer, you've secured her in a holding cell?" "Yes, Your honor." "Then I suppose we have everything arranged. I'll make sure she's included on the bidding list for the Wednesday auction. Has she been measured for a servant's collar?" "No, Your honor, not yet." "No problem. Just have your medical assistant come over tomorrow and measure her, and give us the neck size. Have her do it early so we can include it in the auction statement." "Yes, your honor." The Servant Ch. 03 Chapter 03 -- Eve Bousquet's Hope The rest of the afternoon was anti-climactic for the airport police. The other passengers made it through the facility's security with no problems. The airline already had a replacement aircraft on the way, so there was nothing for anyone to do apart from waiting until the island's unexpected guests could be flown out. Officer Eve Bousquet looked over the arrest photos of her American namesake. Even though she was just looking at photos and not the detainee in person, the police woman's feelings of sexual desire returned full-force. She felt a pleasant burning between her legs as she replayed the images of Trish bent over the table. She longed to caress Trish' frightened face, and run her fingers over the prisoner's bald pussy. It had been a long time since Eve Bousquet had felt such attraction for anyone. The last time had been four years ago, when she was married. Yes, she was married to a man that almost any woman on the island would desire, but she had married mainly to please her parents, not because she had any love for him whatsoever. No...the person she so badly wanted was her husband's younger sister. She spent three years of marriage wracked with guilt...pretending to love her partner in marriage but in reality fantasizing over her sister. Every day she saw the young woman, and every day she could only think about how much she wanted her. However, Eve never dared say anything, because the people of Santa Eduviges still had very strong opinions against same-sex relationships. Eve Bousquet finally couldn't live with her lies any longer. She couldn't tell the truth, but she couldn't keep making love to her husband while seeing the face of his sister in her fantasies. She had to get away from both of them to keep her sanity. Fortunately, Eve's husband, who was getting tired of his wife's lackluster behavior in bed, did not object when she moved out. Officer Bousquet had given up on the hope that she could ever be sexually fulfilled. She knew what her problem was, but there was not a soul with whom she could share her heavy psychological burden. She already was estranged from her parents over the divorce, so she dared not tell them the real reason she could not stay married. If she dared tell any co-workers, she knew she'd be fired and possibly expelled from the island. Then, with no work, no home, and no family, what would she do? ---------- Eve Bousquet's thoughts returned to her American namesake. In spite of the rough treatment she had inflicted on the tourist earlier in the afternoon, the officer started to feel sorry for her. Undoubtedly at that moment the offender was sitting in that dark holding cell, terrified by what had been done to her. Eve knew that Trish Bousquet would have even more reason to be afraid the following Wednesday. Along with all other prisoners that had been arrested and convicted over the previous week, she would be collared and put up for auction as a servant. Servant auctions were a weekly event on the island. There were no jails, but every convicted criminal was put up for sale to whoever wanted to buy a "servant", which in reality was a simple slave. The slave-sale program had been instituted under the government that preceded Generalissimo Renaud. It was popular among the public because it was an excellent source of revenue for the National Police and a great way to dispose of prisoners without having to execute them. Of course, the majority of the persons offered for sale were men, who usually were purchased to perform manual labor. However, about a fourth of the convicts auctioned were women and girls. On the average, female servants fetched higher prices than the men, depending on their age, appearance, and the length of their sentences. At first it would seem that Trish, a 24-year-old white American, would fetch a premium price, but Eve Bousquet knew that might not be the case, depending on who wanted to bid that week. A woman that was 24 years old already was considered past her prime by Island standards. It was clear she was not a virgin, another factor that would lower her price. The holes in her skin from the piercings and her past history of drug use would further lower her value in the eyes of most prospective bidders. Finally, there was the life sentence for cocaine trafficking. Most men who wanted a female for sex preferred purchasing a girl with a 10 or 15-year sentence. Once the sentenced ended, she'd be set free and there was no further financial obligation on the part of her master. Many men would be glad to have Trish now, when she was 24, but at age 54 she would still be collared and would still have to be properly cared for by her owner. Purchasing Trish involved a lifetime of commitment, not just 10 or 15 years of fun. ---------- That night, Eve lay awake in her bedroom. As always, in the darkness she was naked. She had slept that way since her childhood, as had nearly every other resident of Santa Eduviges Island. The heat and humidity made wearing any clothing to bed impractical, so it was the custom of the Islanders, regardless of whether they were rich or poor, to completely undress if they were in their houses after sunset. The police officer spent a long time masturbating as she thought about the American. The spoiled young foreigner, with her pale skin and hairless pussy, continued to fascinate her. As the long lonely hours of the night went by, she wanted Trish more and more. She realized that she did not want to give up control of her. She wanted to have the American to herself...to...own her...and... Suddenly Eve sat up. Own Trish Bousquet. Yes...it was possible...a long shot...but maybe she could indeed buy Trish. A tantalizing thought, really. Why not? The American was going to be put up for sale next Wednesday...and maybe...just maybe...the officer could somehow gather enough money to place the winning bid. ---------- Eve was exhausted the next morning, following a restless night with absolutely no sleep. She went to the airport and spent an uneventful morning on the job. During her lunch break she and her medical assistant got on two police motor scooters and drove past several palm plantations and banana farms to the island's capitol. On the city streets the women dodged buses and bicyclists as they made their way to the court house. The cop first wanted to check the holding cells to make sure Trish was still in custody. She'd have her assistant measure her neck and then take the measurement to the sentencing office so the American could be fitted with a collar. She peeked into holding cell # 6 and observed the prisoner lying in a fetal position with her back to the door. The whip-marks from the previous day's interrogation still were clearly visible on the young woman's bottom. They had swollen and Trish did not want to put any weight on the welts, which was shy she was lying on her side instead of sitting. Every so often her body shook slightly, as though she were crying. The two officials entered the cell. Trish immediately cowered in the corner. She was dizzy from not having eaten and terrified that she was going to be flogged. Officer Bousquet yelled at the prisoner to get into a kneeling position. The prisoner complied, but began to cry. The medical assistant ignored the detainee's distress and casually wrapped a tape measure around her neck. She took the measurement again to be sure before writing the figure on a notepad. She expected to take the paper to the sentencing office, but her boss told her to hand over the notepad and return to the airport. "I have some other matters to take care of, so I'll take her collar size in for you." "Yes, Officer Bousquet." After her subordinate left, Eve left the holding cell area and reported to the chamber of the trial judge. After having seen the frightened captive for a second time she was more determined than ever to buy her. Eve was on good terms with the judge, so she wanted to see what support she could get from him in her effort to purchase a servant. At the very least she hoped to get his official approval. The judge's legal assistant accompanied the cop into the sentencing chamber. She stood at attention until he ordered her to relax and explain the purpose of her visit. After exchanging a few comments about the airport and the damaged plane that was still stuck next to the terminal, Officer Bousquet nervously got to the point: "Your honor, will the American cocaine courier still be put up for sale this week?" "Yes Officer." "I've been thinking. With your permission, I'd like to place a bid on her." "You want to buy that prisoner?" "I believe so, Your honor. I've wanted a collared criminal for a while, and I think she'd do better under me than under anyone else. I'm confident I can work with her and make her into a good servant. Anyhow, I'm sure it would be an interesting challenge." The judge smiled slightly, wondering what the policewoman's real motive was for wanting to buy the American. However, he liked her. She was a good cop, never drank or got rowdy, was never excessively rough on prisoners, was honest, and didn't do anything to upset civilians. The National Police needed more officers like the one standing in front of him, so the judge was determined to help her as much as he could. Besides, it was very likely she was right about the American; that she'd be much better off being owned by her than being owned by anyone else. Yes, he would do what he could to assist the officer's plan to purchase the prisoner. "Very well, Officer. You have my approval. I'll put you on the list of bidders. If you want the girl badly enough, I'll give you a double discount: the police officer's discount and the public official's discount. How much have you saved up?" "I think I can pay 1,500 Florins." The judge reached into his desk, pulled out a stack of currency, and handed it to the officer. "Here. Let's make it 2,500 Florins. Remember, I'll need the money back if you change your mind or don't place the winning bid." "Thank you, your honor. Thank you so much." After pocketing the money, the officer saluted the judge and left the chamber. Well, that turned out a lot better than she had expected. Now she had almost twice as much cash for the auction. The two discounts were equally important: each discount would add 500 Florins to her bid. The judge's generosity meant that instead of only 1,500 Florins, she'd be able to offer up to 3,500. Now that the policewoman was much closer to actually owning her detainee, she felt that she needed to start taking some responsibility for her. Knowing that Trish had not been given anything to eat except a single bowl of leftover rice, Eve exited the courthouse and bought several pieces of fruit and a loaf of bread. She returned to the cell and asked the jail-keeper to open the door. Trish immediately cowered in the corner. The officer yelled at her to stand straight and show proper respect. With tears flowing down her cheeks, Trish complied, struggling keep her hands at her sides and to avoid covering herself. She glanced longingly at the food. "How would you like to eat, Trish Bousquet?" "I...yes, uh...Officer...I'd like...please...so hungry..." "Yes...you would indeed like to eat. To eat, you must display proper respect. Are you ready to do that, show respect so you can eat?" Trish sobbed, but managed to say: "Yes, Officer." "Then I am instructing you to kneel. You will stick out your hands, palms up, and you will thank me after I hand you each item." Trish complied and got on her knees. There was no hint of reluctance or resistance. Amazing what hunger can do to resolve "attitude". Just three days before, Trish never would have imagined that she'd be willing to kneel and humiliate herself just for a few pieces of fruit. However, over the past 24 hours she had been confined in that empty room, with nothing but a bottle of water and a foul-smelling chamber pot. There was not even so much as a bed or a chair, nor a blanket, to protect her exposed body from the dirty concrete. She was exhausted from not being able to sleep and nearly out of her mind from boredom, apprehension, and fear. Psychologically she was starting to break down and her "pride" was one of the first things to go. So, she knelt and followed the Islander's order to put her hands out, palms up. The cop placed an orange in the trembling hands of the kneeling woman. Trish sobbed and managed to get out: "Thank you, Officer Bousquet...for the orange." "Good girl." With that, the cop placed a banana in the captive's hands. "Thank you, Officer Bousquet...for the banana." The prisoner repeated her thanks for a mango and a small loaf of French bread. Noting the prisoner's filthy hands, the cop also handed over a packet of sanitary wipes. "Consider yourself fortunate, Trish Bousquet. No one has brought anything for the other cells. You would be wise to remember that." With that the cop left the cell and returned to the airport. ---------- Trish wiped off her hands as best she could and tore into the orange and banana. She slowed down as she ate the bread. Finally she tackled the mango. It was hard to eat a mango without a knife, but within a few minutes it was stripped to the seed. A few minutes after eating, Trish had to use the chamber pot. It already smelled horribly from stale piss, but Trish tried to ignore the stench and relieved herself. When she finished, she noticed a bluish-gray oval, a small portion of the cocaine that the police had missed when they emptied her out the day before. She closed the lid of the pot and sat against the wall. I am fucked...I am so fucked... Trish briefly wondered why her namesake had brought her the fruit...probably because she expected something in return. She certainly had money to pay whatever these people wanted, but her instincts told her that bribing officials on Santa Eduviges might not be as easy as bribing officials on other islands. She'd have to be careful on that...but...to sit in this cell...forever...there was no way she could do that either. The prisoner still did not understand what was going to happen to her in a couple of days. No one had told her that she was going to be auctioned as a slave, because the judge and the police took it for granted that she already knew that detail of the Santa Eduviges judicial system. No, she did not know that detail. After having spent 24 hours in the holding cell she assumed that a "lifetime of servitude" meant spending her life confined in that horrible cement cubicle. I am fucked...I am so fucked... She wondered what her trust fund manager would say or do once he found out where she was and what had happened to her. Actually, that might take a while, because she had not told anyone about her trip. She had wanted to surprise her friends, so the only thing they would know was that she was missing, but there would be no clues indicating her actual whereabouts. She wondered how seriously anyone would really pursue her disappearance. The crowd she ran with were not noted for their responsibility. Another thought crossed Trish's mind. As for her inheritance...there were relatives...her aunt Beatrice and some cousins, who'd be more than happy to get their hands on her money. Already Beatrice and her little shit-brood had accused her of squandering the family's inheritance and tried to get a judge to force her to rein in her spending. She was on horrible terms with them. So...how motivated would they really be to find her and extract her from her prison cell? Maybe they'd be motivated to do the exact opposite...do what they could to keep her locked up? I am fucked...I am so fucked... ---------- Officer Bousquet spent another restless night. Seeing that arrogant American stripped, kneeling, and crying had been a huge turn-on. As Eve replayed those moments in the cell over and over in her imagination, she spent hours masturbating. Finally, worn out from self-pleasuring herself but still not able to sleep, the woman decided to log onto the Internet and find out what she could about Trish Bousquet. She first found out some details about Trish's party scene by digging through social networking sites. So...Trish was indeed a spoiled rich girl who, up to that point, had led a shallow and meaningless existence. Well young lady, that is about to come to an end. I'll be giving you plenty of purpose in life. Officer Bousquet then became curious about the girl's family and inheritance. It turned out that Trish and her relatives were the descendants of Louisiana cotton barons, an old family with roots in the Deep South that predated the Civil War. In other words, the American Bousquets had started out as slaveholders. The Islander had a good reason to be curious about the history of the American Bousquet family. Her own ancestors had immigrated to Santa Eduviges Island from Louisiana in 1866, the year after the Civil War ended. As was common for that time, they kept the last name of their former owners. Officer Bousquet's heart raced upon finding out that her suspicions about the matching last names were correct. Officer Bousquet shut off her computer, convinced life had come full circle and that fate had delivered Trish into her hands. Just as her own ancestors had to serve the Bousquet family in Louisiana, Trish would be called upon to serve Eve Bousquet in Santa Eduviges. Although Eve was convinced that the American was destined to serve her, neither revenge nor "payback" entered her thoughts. She was not planning to enslave Trish to avenge her ancestors, nor did she have any desire to harm the legacy of the Bousquet family. The truth was, if she really wanted to see the Bousquet family come to grief, the best way to do it would be to figure out a way to free Trish and allow her to return to Baton Rouge; then encourage her to continue squandering the family fortune. Greed was not a motivating factor for Eve. She had no desire to access any of Trish's money. So there were cousins who wanted to control the family fortune? Good. Let them have it. If they proved themselves better managers of the Bousquet estate than Trish, more power to them. Eve wanted Trish and had no intention of letting her go, but that was all she wanted. Nothing else related to the Baton Rouge Bousquets was any of her business. ---------- Trish spent the four longest days of her life in the holding cell. During that time, no one spoke to her. Her initial terror faded into indescribable boredom. She never could sleep for more than a few minutes at a time on the dirty floor. Her bones ached from the cement and her muscles were twitchy from inactivity. She could sit, or lie on her back, or curl up and cry. She tried pacing, but the cell was so small that she could not move more than four steps in any direction. She did not have the opportunity to bathe or comb her hair. She became a truly pitiable sight: smelly, her body covered with grime, her hair disheveled, and dark circles under her eyes from fatigue. The only event each day to break up the monotony was the visit from Officer Bousquet and the delivery of three pieces of fruit and a loaf of bread. By Tuesday Trish desperately looked forward to the visit. She was eager to please the cop, because she knew that the food deliveries could stop at any time. She did exactly as instructed; kneeling and expressing gratitude for each item placed into her hands. By the fourth day of confinement that gratitude was genuine. The Servant Ch. 04 Chapter 04 -- Slave auction The horrid routine ended on Wednesday at 10:00 am. A couple of guards entered the cell, ordered Trish to face the wall, and cuffed her hands behind her back. Saying nothing, one of them gave her a rough shove to force her out the door. She was led up the stairs and into a moldy shower room. The guards removed her cuffs, handed her a bar of soap, and ordered her to get cleaned up. In spite of her terror, she was more than happy to comply. The water was cold, the soap was little better than laundry detergent, and the floor was slimy, but it was the best shower she ever had experienced. After her shower, the guards cuffed Trish and led her to the courtyard. There were several police officers and six other prisoners. The prisoners were kneeling in a row. They were naked and had their hands cuffed behind their backs. All appeared to be Islanders. There were five men and a girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen. Trish was ordered to kneel next to the others. As the group knelt and waited, the sentencing judge stood with two other officials discussing paperwork. A burly male cop brandished a whip to remind the prisoners that they were to remain absolutely silent. Five minutes passed before the two guards returned with another naked Islander, an unattractive woman who appeared to be in her late 30's. Trish overheard the sentencing judge's voice: "Is that it? All the prisoners are here?" "Yes, your honor." "Very well. Stand them up." The cop with the whip cracked it and ordered the prisoners to get on their feet. They struggled to keep their balance, given that they did not have the use of their hands. They stood quietly while the judge wrote something on a clipboard. He handed a black magic marker to one of the cops and showed him the clipboard. "Here's the order of this week's sale. Those two..." (the judge pointed at two middle-aged men) "... go first. Then we'll do the women. That one..." (he pointed at the woman in her 30's) "then the American, and then the girl. I'll put the three boys at the end." "Yes, Your honor." The cop with the magic marker wrote a number on the chest of each prisoner. Trish would be the fourth prisoner to be auctioned; therefore she was marked with a large black "4" above her right breast. As the prisoners were being numbered, Trish finally realized what was about to happen. "...the order of this week's sale." Oh shit! So that was why they had her get cleaned up! She, along with the seven Islanders, was going to be put up for sale! Trish looked around in horror at her fellow prisoners. All of them had miserable, but resigned expressions on their faces. The girl and one of the young men were crying. The cop with the whip jumped in front of her. He cracked it and shouted: "What are you looking at, you fucking delinquent?!" "I...nothing Officer...please...I..." "Then shut your criminal mouth! We'll tell you what to look at!" The cop then turned towards one of the young men and viciously struck him across the upper thighs. The prisoner screamed from pain and fell backwards. The cop struck him twice more before pulling him upright. Trish never found out what he did to so upset the official. Another cop ordered the prisoners to re-order themselves according to their numbers, which left Trish standing between the other two women. A second officer with a camera took several pictures of the row of prisoners. Trish's knees shook badly. She struggled not to throw up and not to faint. Oh shit...I am so fucked...oh my God...oh fuck... Yes indeed, she fully understood that the chances she'd ever resume her normal life were becoming more and more remote. ---------- Four of the police officers took out their revolvers and ordered the prisoners to walk single file through the courtyard entrance of the courthouse. The group emerged onto a side street and walked, in full view of bicyclists and pedestrians, three blocks to a city park. The park had a raised bandstand in its center. There were several rows of folding chairs placed in a half circle near the platform. Some of the chairs already were occupied by well-dressed Islanders, while others were milling about or talking in small groups. The audience fell silent when the prisoners approached. The escort ordered the eight captives to line up in front of the bandstand and face forward. A cop stepped up to the bandstand and addressed the bidders. "Good afternoon, everyone! Today we've got eight prisoners! Bidding will start in 15 minutes! In the meantime, feel free to get a better look at them, and don't forget to take a sentencing sheet! If you read it, a lot of the questions you might have about what you're buying will be answered!" The cop clapped his hands. "Fifteen minutes! And I want to see some courtesy around here! Don't block other people from viewing! Take a look and move on!" Trish stood in numb horror as Islanders, mostly middle-aged men, filed past her. Many of them looked carefully at her face and her belly-button, where the holes from her recently removed piercings were still evident. She heard one comment to a companion: "I can't for the life of me understand why Americans do that to themselves. I'd buy her, but not with those holes." "I don't know. They're not too bad. I'll buy her, if I can get her cheap." A few minutes later she overheard another Islander comment: "Life sentence. 24. No...I guess not." Nevertheless, there was some interest in Trish and it was obvious that there were Islanders who planned to bid on her. However, the prisoner receiving the most attention was the girl, prisoner #5. It was clear that, among the servants, she'd receive the highest bid. The men clustered around her and ordered her to turn around several times and bend over. There were rules against touching a servant that had not yet been sold, which was fortunate for both the girl and Trish. The rule spared them from being fondled. ---------- When the bell of a nearby church rang to announce noon, the cop ordered the bidders to take their seats. The prisoners were ordered to kneel. A man in a suit showed up, took his position at a table that had been set up on the bandstand, and cheerfully shouted: "Good afternoon everyone!" After the audience responded, the auctioneer ordered the first prisoner, one of the middle-aged men, to join him on the platform and kneel facing the audience. "First servant. 36-year-old male. 15-year sentence. He has some manual-labor experience in construction and agriculture. Health is fair. Looks like he has a past history of drinking, but no drugs. How about a bid of 500 Florins?" After a few seconds, a banana farmer raised his hand. "500...thank you, sir. We've got 500. How about 600? Do we have 600? 600 Florins for a laborer?" A second farmer raised his hand, eliciting a nasty look from the first bidder. "600...thank you sir." The auctioneer turned to the first farmer. "Would you like to raise your bid, sir?" "I'll pay 650." The auctioneer turned to the second bidder, who shook his head. "Looks like it's 650 Florins. 650...going once. 650...going twice..." There was a crack of a gavel on the table: "Sold for 650 Florins!" A cop ascended the platform and pulled the prisoner to his feet. He scrawled the new owner's last name and the amount of the winning bid on the man's chest and ordered him to rejoin the other prisoners. The second prisoner sold for 700 florins, but the third prisoner, the woman in her 30's, only fetched 400. The auctioneer had to reduce the initial bidding price of 500 Florins, which was a major humiliation for both him and the woman. Then it was Trish Bousquet's turn. Reluctantly she ascended the stairs and knelt next to the auctioneer. Her brain refused to believe this was actually happening. This had to be a bad dream. It had to be. A nightmare, from which she'd be waking up at any moment. It was the 21st Century. No...there was no way that... "Prisoner #4 is an interesting one. A female from the United States, 24 years old. Not much work experience...mostly college, it would appear. Life sentence for cocaine trafficking. Past history of drug use and drinking, but her health is still good. Do I hear 500 Florins?" Several hands went up. "600 Florins?" Several hands went up again. The price for Trish quickly rose to 1,100 Florins before bidders started dropping out. When her price went up to 1,800 Florins, only three hands still went up. Her heart stopped when she noticed that one of the remaining bidders was Officer Eve Bousquet. She had not recognized her namesake because the officer was wearing a white dress instead of her normal uniform. However, uniformed or not, there she was, raising her hand in competition with two lecherous-looking men in their 50's. Trish still did not want to accept what was happening to her. When the price for Trish reached 2,300 Florins, Officer Bousquet stood up and announced: "Sir, I'd like to invoke my right to the standard police discount of 500 Florins." "Thank you, Officer. That raises the price for prisoner #4 to 2,800 Florins. Would anyone like to top the bid for 2,800 Florins?" "I'll top that. 2,900 Florins. Cash." "Thank you, Sir. 2,900 Florins. Would you care to raise your bid, Officer?" "Yes, Sir. I'd like to invoke my right to the standard government official's discount of 500 Florins." "And you cleared that with the sentencing court?" "Yes Sir." "Thank you, Officer. 3,400 Florins. The going price for the American is 3,400 Florins. Would you like to place another bid, Sir? The man gave the cop a vicious look, totally disgusted at the unfair advantage those government discounts gave her. "3,450 Florins!" "Thank you, Sir. 3,450 Florins! Care to bid, Officer?" "2,500 Florins, plus the two discounts." "Thank you, Officer. 3,500 Florins. Do you wish to place another bid, Sir?" The man thought over his situation. Did he really want Trish that badly? Did he really want to spend that much money on her? Maybe it would be better to try for the girl? Besides, that cop seemed to have money to spare, with those damn discounts. How much higher could she go? He really did not want to pay so much for a servant that was 24-years old. The American wasn't worth it. "No. I'm not going any higher." "Very well. Officer, do you stay with your bid of 3,500 Florins?" "Yes, Sir." "Excellent. 3,500 Florins...going once. 3,500 Florins...going twice..." The gavel cracked on the table. Trish flinched at the bang, which seemed to her as loud as a shot. That gavel announced a turning point in the life of prisoner #4. She had just become the property of another person. "Sold...for 3,500 Florins! Thank you, Officer!" Officer Eve Bousquet smiled slightly and nodded. She managed to conceal her joy and relief of having so narrowly won custody of Trish. She had bluffed perfectly. She would not have been able to bid any higher than 3,500 Florins, but fortunately her rival had not realized that. Meanwhile, the uniformed cop assisting the auction pulled Trish to her feet. On her chest he wrote the sale price and her new owner's last name: "Bousquet". Trish returned to where the other prisoners were kneeling and stared at the grass in front of her...trying to figure out why she wasn't waking up from this horrible dream... ---------- The battle over Trish and the fact that she had been bought by a female police officer added some interest to the auction, but the real bidding action came when prisoner #5, the younger girl, was put up for sale. She was the reason many of the men were attending, and those submitting serious bids knew that the competition for her would be fierce. The judge helping Officer Bousquet knew that as well, which was why he put Trish ahead of the girl. He knew that most of the serious bidders would hold off on offering too much for the American if the girl had not yet been sold. Had the girl been auctioned first, many of the bidders would have settled for Trish, who was the second most desirable prisoner being offered that week. The girl and her boyfriend were being offered for sale after being convicted of sneaking onto tourist beaches and stealing from hotel guests. That was considered a serious offense in a country dependent on tourism. Stealing from tourists was not quite as serious as drug trafficking, but the teenagers were sentenced to 20 years. For a buyer that arrangement was perfect, because the teenagers would be released at age 36, just as they were about to turn middle-aged. As for the boyfriend, he too had received plenty of attention and also would fetch a high price. He was trembling because he knew what his fate was going to be. Same-sex relationships were taboo on the island, but that prohibition did not apply to servants. Servants were obliged to please their owners, no matter what. The auctioneer decided to skip the formality of starting with the usual price of 500 Florins. The girl was worth a lot more than that, so he started the bidding at 2,000 just to save some time. Within minutes her price had shot up above 7,000 Florins. Buyers, even ones that would have a very hard time scraping together that much money, continued to raise their hands in a desperate attempt to own the young criminal. It wasn't until the girl's price had gone above 8,500 Florins that prospective buyers began giving up and dropping out. One of the remaining bidders was the mayor of the second largest town on Santa Eduviges. As soon as he faced off with a single rival, the owner of a palm-oil factory, the politician invoked his public official's discount privilege and pushed the price above 9,000 Florins. The factory owner knew that the mayor had at least one more government discount in reserve, so at that point he gave up. "9,200 Florins...going once. 9,200 Florins...going twice..." The gavel smacked the tabletop... "Sold for 9,200 Florins! Thank you, Mayor!" Thank you indeed...9,200 Florins was a lot of money, something the police department could always use. Prisoners #6 and #7 sold for 1,800 Florins and 2,100 Florins. Then there was more excitement when the final prisoner, the girl's boyfriend, ascended the bandstand. He was young and very good-looking, and also the last slave for the week. He sold for 3,200 Florins, which was considered a lot for a male prisoner. A cop carrying a cash box collected the money from the eight winning bidders and passed out certificates of ownership. Trish later would find out that a Florin was worth about 20 US dollars, which meant that on the island her life was worth $ 70,000. There was a final detail to resolve before the new servants could be turned over to their owners: they had to be collared. The collaring was done by a European armed with a scary-looking device that looked like a huge pair of salad tongs. The servants were forced to kneel in a row and were collared in the order in which they were sold. When it was Trish Bousquet's turn to be collared, the European slipped the tong-device over her neck and clamped it shut. There was a hiss and a dull click. When the technician removed the device, Trish had a sturdy metal collar around her neck. The feeling of the uncompromising metal was what made Trish Bousquet realize that no...this was no dream. She never was going to wake up, because she had never gone to sleep. Trish had become a slave. The collar marked her as a slave. Because of the collar, the world around her would always see her as a slave. The collar would become her identity. Nothing else would matter. ---------- As the collar technician packed up his supplies, the auctioneer made a final announcement: "I want to thank everyone for coming out today, whether or not you purchased. It helps the National Police to have good participation in these auctions. I also want congratulate those of you who placed successful bids, and wish you the very best with your new servants. I have just one reminder: these people are now under your control and you are obligated to take proper care of them. A statement of those obligations was provided with your servant's ownership certificate, and make sure you read it." That was the end of the auction. The police escort ordered the servants to stand up so their handcuffs could be removed. Unlike the collars, which were considered part of the sale price, the handcuffs belonged to the police. In the order they were sold, the servants were directed towards their new owners. Each criminal approached his or her master and knelt. The owner told the servant how he was to be addressed and asked if the servant understood. After the servant responded, the owner told his charge to stand up. It was customary that servants were prohibited from wearing any clothing, but that detail was up to the owner. The owner of prisoner #2, one of the middle-aged men, broke with tradition by handing his new charge a pair of sandals, a jean shirt, and some shorts. He had bought the man to work on his farm and had no desire to see him undressed. There was no hint that any of the other seven servants, Trish included, would ever be allowed to put on clothing again. Trish watched the three servants that preceded her to understand what she needed to do when presented to Eve Bousquet. For the moment, at least, she wanted to do what she could to avoid getting into any further trouble. Things were bad enough for her as it was, so she did not want another beating or to be returned to that horrid cell. When the police escort directed her to her new mistress, Trish was ready. Trembling, she approached the woman in the white dress, and when she was about a meter away she fell to her knees. "Servant Trish. I am Officer Eve Bousquet. I am your owner. You will address me as Mistress Bousquet. When I tell you something, you will respond with 'yes, Mistress Bousquet' or 'no, Mistress Bousquet' to let me know that you heard what I said. Do you understand me?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "Good girl. Another thing you need to know is that servants never talk unless their owner asks them a question or requests an explanation. If you need something, you will ask for permission to speak. You belong to me, so you are prohibited from talking to anyone else unless I have told you to do so. That includes other servants. Do you understand, Servant Trish? "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "So what will happen if someone tries to talk to you, Servant Trish?" "I...I won't say anything...Mistress Bousquet?" "Close. You will tell that person to speak with me, your Mistress. You won't say anything else." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "Alright. Before anything else, I want to get you a pair of sandals. I'm not required to provide you with shoes, but I'll do it anyway. Now stand up." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." The comment about the sandals reminded Trish that she was kneeling in a crowded public park, totally naked. She had been naked in public for several hours, but she had been with the other prisoners and too terrified to worry about modesty. Anyhow, her hands had been cuffed behind her back so she had been unable to cover herself. Now she was away from the others, had the use of her hands, and had time to think about other things apart from being totally scared. She envied that one lucky slave who would be allowed by his master to wear work clothing. Trish stood up. Unfortunately, without thinking about what she was doing, she tried to cover herself. Eve was not surprised, because it was common for recently collared servants to have one last display of modesty. She was ready for that, and ready to teach her ward the first hard lesson about what it meant to be collared. "Turn around." Trish complied. Eve had brought with her a pair of handcuffs that she quietly slipped out of her purse. The Servant Ch. 04 "Put your hands behind your back." Reluctantly Trish did as she was told. Eve grabbed the servant's hands and quickly cuffed them. "Now turn around and get on your knees. I need to explain something to you." Trish started to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. She obeyed, struggling to get back on her knees. "You need to understand what has just happened to you. You've been auctioned. Your body no longer belongs to you. People are going to want to look at you and, because you're collared, you are going to let them look at you. You have no choice in the matter. You are a servant and you will act like a servant. Do you understand me?" Trish's voice cracked as she responded: "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "Very well. It's unfortunate we have to start out like this, but it looks like you'll have to wear cuffs for the time being. Now get up and follow me. You need to stay a meter behind me while we're walking. Whenever I stop to talk to someone or to do anything, you will go to your knees and wait until I'm finished. I will tell you when to get up. I know that'll be a bit hard while you're wearing cuffs, but that's too bad. You did it to yourself." Trish struggled to get up. As soon as she was on her feet, Eve snapped: "Get back on your knees!" With tears flowing down her cheeks, Trish got back on her knees. "What did you forget? Let's hear it! What did you forget?" Trish sobbed. She managed to get out: "Please...Mistress Bousquet...I...I don't know...I..." "You'll remember that I told you, when I'm finished talking to you, you'll acknowledge that you understand what I've just said by saying 'yes, Mistress Bousquet' or 'no Mistress Bousquet'. Remember that?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "Now, let's try this again. You are a servant. You have no right to any modesty. You will keep your hands at your sides and if you don't, you can expect to spend the rest of the day with your hands cuffed behind your back. Get it?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "Good. Now get up and let's go so we can get you some sandals. Remember to stay a meter behind me when we're walking and to get on your knees when I stop. You'd better learn some obedience, or else I'll deal with you when we get home, and I can tell you, 'being dealt with' is not something you want." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Trish was mortified as she followed her Mistress onto the street. Eve warned her to watch where she was walking to make sure she didn't step on any sharp objects. They walked several blocks as they headed away from the government buildings towards the commercial district. The walk was one of the hardest things Trish ever did, given that a naked woman walking on a public sidewalk with her hands cuffed behind her back was sure to draw a lot of attention. It was the end of the lunch hour and the sidewalk and the streets were crowded with pedestrians, buses, motor scooters, and bicyclists. There were not only Islanders, but also dozens of European tourists. Everyone was staring at her. The two women made their way into a large warehouse-style building that contained dozens of small shops selling just about everything imaginable: clothing, shoes, leather goods, kitchen supplies, umbrellas, toys... Eve led her servant to a shop that sold shoes and stopped to look inside. Eve introduced herself to the clerk, a leering teenager who couldn't keep his eyes off Trish. The servant got on her knees. The clerk told Eve that he'd have to clean off the naked girl's feet before she could try on any shoes. Eve did not want him touching her servant, so she responded by taking off the cuffs and having Trish wipe off her own feet. Trish did as she was told, cleaning her feet as best she could. Eve ended up buying a pair of beach sandals and a pair of cheap athletic shoes. That would be Trish Bousquet's wardrobe for the rest of her life. Eve ordered Trish to put on the shoes and carry the sandals. Suddenly she decided to give the girl a break and not keep her cuffed for the rest of the day. The servant was hugely relieved when she saw her mistress putting the handcuffs back in her purse. The two women made their way out of the crowded market and back onto the street. Trish was still embarrassed at having to be naked in a crowded town, but she was just starting to get used to it. She still drew a lot of attention and looks, but without her hands cuffed she felt less freakish. She was grateful for the shoes and happy to have her hands free once again. Without realizing it, Trish Bousquet was beginning to accept her new life. She understood that her Mistress had the power to make her existence miserable, or to make it better by granting her small breaks. She had expected to wear handcuffs for the rest of the day, but without saying anything, her owner had relented. That small favor made Trish realize that Eve could change her mind about things. Trish had seen just enough at the auction to know that some of the other servants would not be so lucky with their new owners. The Servant Ch. 05 Chapter 05 -- Eve's house Eve's next concern was to get her new servant back to her house and give her something to eat. She knew that Trish had not yet eaten that day and would be famished, but there was nothing she could do about that for the time being. Collared servants had a lot of restrictions placed on them; one of those being that they could not be seen eating in a public location in the capitol. Eve stopped an island taxi, which was a strange-looking contraption for anyone who had not been to the Caribbean. It was a small open vehicle that barely fit two passengers, with the driver sitting up front. Instead of four wheels, it only had three. It was called a "rickshaw" and had been made in India. The driver's eyes roamed over the servant's naked body before her mistress ordered her to get in. Eve joined Trish and told the man to drive towards the airport. The trip was the first opportunity Trish had to see any of Santa Eduviges Island. The rickshaw made its way through the market district and went past blocks of single-story residences. Most of the buildings were made from cinderblocks and had laminated roofs. Mixed in with the houses were small stores and an occasional school. The majority of the people running around were dressed in loose-fitting white shirts and cargo shorts. Many of the younger women were wearing short dresses made of very light fabric. It was apparent that the only concern of the people on the street was comfort. There was not much worry about modesty, even for the Caribbean. Trish noticed something else; that a lot of the women were wearing gold jewelry. The jewelry, and the lack of bars on the windows of the houses, indicated there must not be much crime on Santa Eduviges. The rickshaw crossed a small river, passed through several kilometers of palm plantations and banana groves, and finally came up to the airport. Eve ordered the driver to turn left and take the road towards the beach. The rickshaw passed through a small town and crossed a large grove of papaya plants. On the other side of the papaya farm there was a small group of cement houses that were within sight of the ocean. One of those houses belonged to Eve Bousquet. The house was typical for the houses of Santa Eduviges; a single-story white cinderblock structure with a re-enforced laminated roof, designed to withstand both heat and hurricanes. The property was large enough to support several fruit trees in the back. In the front there was a huge mango tree that shaded part of the house and was shared with a neighbor. In the following weeks Trish would learn to hate that mango tree. One of her duties would be to harvest ripe mangos and make sure all the mangos that had fallen were picked up, cleaned, and bagged for a vendor who came by every couple of days to take fruit to the market. ---------- Eve struggled to control her excitement. She now had, in her possession, a woman with whom she could do whatever she wanted. She wanted to run her hands all over her servant's body...to kiss her...to make her follow command after command...to have her face buried between her legs. Yes, her dream had finally been realized, with a woman that she truly wanted. Just looking at Trish excited her, and now she had the American all to herself. However, Eve forced herself to remember that Trish was more than just a toy. She was a person who was scared, bruised, exhausted, and above everything else, hungry and in need of a bath. It was only fair that her physical needs had to be addressed first. She ordered Trish to wash her hands, then to go into the refrigerator and cut herself some melon. There was a pot of rice with chicken that Eve had prepared in the morning, in anticipation of having a second person in her household to feed that afternoon. Eve ordered Trish to take some, and also a glass of orange juice. Trying to maintain a façade of severity, she ordered her servant to sit on the back porch and have her meal. Trish devoured her food with trembling hands. It was the first decent meal she had eaten in a week. Once she had finished, she cleaned her plate in the kitchen, and then, not knowing what else to do, knelt in front of her Mistress. The next priority was getting cleaned up. Eve ordered Trish to go into the bathroom, brush her teeth, and start a bath. Trish did as she was told. As the water was running, she looked at herself in the mirror, for the first time seeing herself as a slave instead of an heiress. Her hair was tangled and her face was gaunt, reflecting four days spent in a dark cell and not having enough to eat. Her eyes were both tired and frightened. Her chest had been written on with a large "#4", the last name "Bousquet", "sold", and her sale price "3,500 Fl", with a large black marker. She cringed with humiliation at the thought that several hundred people had seen her walking around, not just cuffed and naked, but with her auction information scrawled all over her chest, as though she were a walking receipt. No wonder everyone was staring at her. She had become nothing more than recently purchased property, and that was how an entire city saw her. Above everything else was the collar. It was made from hardened steel and had a ring in the front. She ran her fingers along the groves and the latch. She took a deep breath. That thing really was permanent. There was no way she'd be able to get it off. It would be part her identity for the rest of her life. The servant tried to be thorough getting cleaned up, especially in her effort to get all that writing scrubbed off her chest. However, she knew better than to dawdle too long in the bathroom. Her Mistress was waiting. Eve's next priority was limiting the possibility Trish might try to escape. She had to go to work five days out of the week, which meant that her servant would be alone for hours at a time; plenty of opportunity for her to do something stupid and get in trouble. The way to handle that was very simple; introduce Trish around the neighborhood, make sure everyone knew to whom she belonged, and ask the neighbors to keep an eye on her when her owner was at work. Trish was totally exhausted, but felt much better after having eaten and getting cleaned up. She dutifully followed her owner around the cluster of houses. Trish learned that her Mistress was on very good terms with most of the neighbors. At some of her friends' houses Eve did not even bother to knock, but instead walked around the house to the back of the property and called out the neighbor's name. At each stop Trish had to go to her knees and remain silent while her Mistress casually bragged about her new purchase. All of the neighbors congratulated her, in the same way they would have congratulated her on getting a good deal on a fancy car. Almost all of Eve's female neighbors were doing chores on their back porches. On Santa Eduviges the back porch of a house was actually a work area for both laundry and cooking. Ovens and stoves were almost always kept outdoors to prevent them from heating the inside of the house. Washing machines were not yet common on the island, so most clothing had to be washed in a large specially designed sink. Therefore, between cooking and laundry, women spent their days on their porches instead of inside their houses. Trish was surprised that most of the women working on their porches were topless, wearing nothing but an apron, or completely naked. Since gaining independence, the citizens of Santa Eduviges always had been more accepting of nudity than most other islands. The recent flood of tourists visiting from the European country of Danubia and their demand for nude beaches reinforced the island's relaxed ideas about modesty and wearing only what was necessary. Seeing the female neighbors in various states of undress on their back porches helped put Trish at ease about her own situation, slightly. The most difficult stop was at a house where a group of teenaged boys were drinking beer and half-heartedly attempting to fix an outboard motor for a family fishing boat. Upon seeing Officer Bousquet, they hid their beer and played innocent. However, Eve was not worried about their drinking at the moment: she simply was passing through to introduce her new servant. There were nine teenagers, and nine sets of eyes were glued to the servant's body the entire time Eve conversed with them to give them plenty of time to look over Trish. With all those teenagers leering at her, it was very hard for the American to keep her hands at her sides and not try to cover herself. Then, against her wishes, she began to feel a hint of sexual excitement, being totally exposed in front of all those boys. The excitement embarrassed her further. It was late afternoon by the time Eve and Trish had made their rounds through the neighborhood. The purpose of taking Trish around and introducing her to everyone was very clear: "this is my new servant. Please help me by keeping an eye on her when I'm not around, and if she does anything that she's not supposed to do, let me know right away." Trish understood, with all of the neighbors knowing who she was and watching her, there was not a chance she could leave the area without someone noticing. She might as well have been locked up in a high-security prison. At sunset they returned to Eve's house. The policewoman ordered Trish to cut herself another piece of melon and finish off the rice. Once again, Trish had to eat sitting on the steps of Eve's back porch. That would be where she would have to eat all of her meals, since servants were not allowed to eat sitting normally at a table. Following dinner, Eve ordered Trish to follow her to the house next door. The neighbors were an older couple whose children had graduated and moved out. They invited the policewoman and her servant inside and told Eve to take a seat in an armchair. Eve ordered her servant to kneel next to her, facing forward. The neighbors offered a glass of rum to their guest. Trish had to settle for a glass of water. She looked longingly at the rum, having been a heavy drinker in her party scene up to the week before. She suspected, quite correctly, that as a servant she'd never be allowed to touch alcohol again. Eve and the neighbors spent a long time conversing about the neighborhood's problems, politics in the capitol, and a local girl who had recently married a Danubian contractor and emigrated from the Island. Finally the conversation shifted to Trish. Eve talked about the arrest, her decision to buy the prisoner, and the government discounts she got from the judge. (She did not mention the extra 1,000 Florins he lent her.) Like everyone else, the neighbors congratulated Eve on her purchase and outsmarting her rival at the auction. Eve then got to the point of her visit. She would make Trish available to pick mangos on the neighbor's side of the property in exchange for her being taught how to perform household chores. As Eve put it: "This girl hasn't done a lick of work in her entire life. I'd imagine she doesn't know one end of a mop from the other or what laundry detergent looks like." Trish knelt silently, embarrassed by her owner's accurate assessment. She looked longingly at the bottle of rum, badly wishing she could have a glass...just one glass. She dreaded the prospect of having to spend her days picking mangos and doing household chores. However, there was something else that made her uneasy as she remained on her knees and tried to stay on her best behavior. Eve was running her fingers through her hair and caressing her shoulder, in an absent-minded manner similar to the way a person would touch a large dog lying next to their chair. As Trish felt her Mistress's fingers exploring her scalp and stroking her skin, she suspected the real reason Eve had wanted to buy her. . The visit to the neighbor's house concluded with the wife saying: "Don't worry about a thing, Eve. I'll keep your girl plenty busy and teach her what she needs to know. She'll be such a good housekeeper; she'll put the hotels to shame." "Thanks. And if she gives you any trouble, just let me know and I'll deal with her when I get home." ---------- Eve ordered Trish to accompany her back to her house. The servant was very worried, wondering what was going to happen next. However, Eve was not sure how to proceed with her plan to turn Trish into her submissive lover. She simply could have ordered Trish to do whatever she wanted, in the same way that she would be ordering her to do housework and pick fruit. However, when it came to sex, Eve wanted more than just to boss Trish around. She wanted to dominate Trish by seducing her. She wanted to control not only the actions of her servant, but also her body and her emotions. Trish would not be truly under her control if she were angry or resentful at having to be Eve's sexual slave. The hope what that, at some point, Trish would want to be Eve's sexual slave; that she would willingly submit to whatever Eve wanted from her. That was Eve's ultimate ambition. Since Trish was dead tired and Eve was not sure how to proceed with her ambitions, she simply decided to put her servant to bed. Anyhow, Trish had been through a hellish day, following four nights with almost no sleep. More than anything else she needed to rest. The custom on the Island was that a collared servant was not allowed to sleep in a normal bed. However, Eve did not want her sleeping on the floor either. The compromise was a military army cot with a foam mattress and a sheet over the top. Trish would sleep on the cot, but would not be allowed to cover herself. Eve ordered Trish to unfold the cot and told her how to set it up. For several minutes the servant struggled with her task, but finally figured it out. It was the first time in her life that she had set something up on her own. When she finished, she got on her knees and Eve caressed her face. Once again, she worried about what that meant, but being caressed was a lot better than being whipped. A few minutes later Trish was asleep. The cot was not something she would have thought about sleeping on a week ago, but after four days spent lying on a dirty cement floor, it felt wonderful. Eve undressed for the night. She returned to the living room to make sure her servant had gone to sleep and would not try to escape. Trish was totally out. Good thing Eve had decided to wait on sex, because it was not likely the American would have been very responsive given how tired she was. When the moment came to seduce her, she would have to be rested. The living room where her servant was sleeping was dimly lit, but there was enough light for her to have a good look at the American's uncovered body. Eve's eyes captured every detail...thinking how pretty and sexy Trish really was. She refrained from running her hands over the girl's smooth skin. She is so lovely...and so tempting. Seeing her naked servant made Eve give up on her plans for a slow seduction. She knew that she wouldn't have the patience. No. Tomorrow's the day. I'm not going to wait any longer. I've waited all my life for this, and I'm not waiting any longer. Tomorrow's when I'll make her truly mine. The Servant Ch. 06 Chapter 06 -- Slave routine Officer Eve Bousquet woke up just before sunrise. Trish was still asleep. That morning was the very last time she would have the luxury of sleeping while her Mistress was awake. Starting on Friday, she'd have to wake up and have her owner's breakfast ready and her uniform cleaned and pressed. However, there was no point of her getting up early until she had been trained, something that would be taken care of over the next several days. Eve would be responsible for most of her servant's training, with a single important exception. She felt that it would be better if someone else taught Trish how to do the daily chores; that it would be preferable to for a third person to teach the American what she needed to do around the house. Eve's next door neighbor was the perfect candidate for that task: a strict older woman who was an immaculate housekeeper. Eve got dressed and entered the living room. Already the sun was up, with the promise that the day, as always, would be infernally hot. The police officer clapped her hands, startling her still-sleeping ward. Trish was disoriented, but immediately rolled off her cot and got on her knees. She was very nervous, because so far, seeing her Mistress in uniform always had meant something unpleasant or painful was about to happen. "Good morning, Servant Trish!" "Good morning, Mistress Bousquet." "Today is training day for you. You're going to do something you've never done in your life: work. As I'd imagine you realized last night, I'm leaving you in the hands of my neighbor, who'll be teaching you what you need to know. When you're with her, you will show her the same respect you'd show me. When you're with her, you will kneel, just like you would with me, and refer to her as Mistress Flora. Her husband's name is Pierre, and he is to be called Master Pierre. Do you understand? "Yes, Mistress Bousquet" "Good girl. Now, remember. Mistress Flora and Master Pierre are very good friends of mine. I've known them since I was a teenager. Mistress Flora was one of my teachers in school. She helped me get settled after my divorce. She means a lot to me, and you'd better never forget that. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve was ready to take Trish over to the neighbor's house, but there was something she had to do with her servant first. She knew that the seduction would have to wait until the evening at the earliest. However, the temptation of having that lovely body within her reach for the past day was overwhelming. She needed to at least touch her. In a commanding cop's voice Eve ordered Trish to put her hands against the wall and spread her feet. The servant's knees trembled as she obeyed. Eve took a few moments to admire Trish as she stood in that submissive position, a position that anyone ever arrested is familiar with. The officer noted the American's exposed bottom. The whip marks from the interrogation had faded to faint bruises. The girl had a bikini line from a thong she liked to wear at her pool in Baton Rouge. The tan-line was fading as well. The pale line across her waist probably would be gone by the end of the day, given that she would be working outside for several hours. Eve did not want any distractions for that evening, including sunburn. She dabbed some sunscreen on her servant's shoulders, using that as an excuse to massage the girl's back. She wiped off her hands before massaging her ward's stomach to make sure it was not swollen. Of course, she also had to make sure the bruises on Trish's bottom were healing, so she sensuously ran her hands over the American's trembling backside. Her heart raced as she finally touched and explored that lovely bottom that had so tempted her. "You have healed nicely. I hope I won't have to punish you again, because you really do have a lovely bum." Eve ordered Trish to turn around and stared into her eyes. She pinched the servant's chin with her thumb and forefinger. "You will be on your best behavior today. Don't disappoint me. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" Trish, her eyes wide with fear and her knees trembling, managed to get out: "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve led her servant next door to the neighbor's house. To her dismay, Trish saw the older woman holding a freshly cut switch. She later learned that, when she was still working, the switch had been an important part of Mistress Flora's teaching. All of her students, including Eve, had felt the switch on their bare bottoms at some point during the school year. The retiree tapped her neighbor's new servant with the switch and ordered her to follow her into the house. She spent several hours teaching her how to do various household chores. In spite of the implied threat from the switch in her hand, Trish had to admit that Flora was fair as an instructor. She was good at explaining tasks and showing through example what a servant needed to do. She made sure Trish completely understood how to perform a chore before moving on to something else. She did not take it for granted that what she was teaching was easy for someone who had never done any housework. The next thing Flora wanted to teach the younger woman was how to pick fruit and harvest mangos. For the rest of the morning Trish wandered around both yards picking up mangos, sorting the good ones from the damaged ones, cleaning them, and boxing them for the local fruit vendor. When all the mangos were picked up from the ground Flora handed Trish a pole with a basket and a hook for pulling ripe mangos from the upper branches. Trish got up on a ladder to pick fruit from the lower branches, and used the pole to get mangos from the higher branches. She spent several hours collecting fruit, but she only harvested a small fraction of what was on that tree. Several neighborhood boys showed up and watched her as she moved about the yard with her harvesting pole. The boys didn't say anything rude, but being forced to work in the nude in front of an audience was totally humiliating. Flora was not sympathetic to the servant's plight: she ordered her to carry boxes of mangos to the front of the property and stack them on the sidewalk, right where her spectators were standing. By then, one of the boys had brought a digital camera and started taking pictures of her. Trish glanced at Flora, silently pleading to either be let off or for her to chase off the boys. Flora responded by flexing her switch. Tears welled up in the naked servant's eyes as she silently continued working and the camera continued to click. When noon came around, Trish was weak from hunger. Flora called her onto the back porch and told her how to boil rice with vegetables and cut up fruit for salads and juice. After serving the two older people, she sat on the back steps and ate her portion of the lunch. Then she had to clean up, not only after herself, but also after Flora and Pierre. It was the first time in her life she ever had to clean up after someone else's meal. By mid-afternoon Trish was exhausted, but Flora was not about to let her rest. She ordered the servant to return to her Mistress's house and supervised her as she cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom. She then had to finish both rooms by getting on her hands and knees and scrubbing the floor. As she was working, Flora gently tapped her vulnerable backside with the switch. "This position suits you. You look really good, naked on your hands and knees. It's where you belong." Trish knew that Flora was taunting her, but with a switch rubbing her exposed bottom, she dared not react. She forced herself to reply "Yes, Mistress Flora" and continued working. Finally, Trish had to go into Eve's bedroom, where Flora taught her how to make the bed. The retiree commented: "There's a lot more you'll have to learn, but we got off to a good start. I'd imagine you don't know anything about laundry." "No, Mistress Flora." "Don't worry. We'll fix that the next time your Mistress sends you over." "Yes, Mistress Flora." "Very well, young lady. Time for you to get cleaned up. Your Mistress will be home in a few minutes and you need to make yourself presentable for her." Yes, Trish did need to get cleaned up. She had spent an entire day working and sweating in the tropical heat. Her muscles ached from fatigue and her back hurt from picking up and carrying all those mangos. A cold bath and several glasses of water made her feel a lot better. Trish was on her knees in the living room when her Mistress returned to the house. Flora was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper. Eve warmly greeted her former teacher. She walked up to the servant and put out her hand. Because the palm of Eve's hand was facing down instead of up, Trish understood that she was not offering to help her get up, but instead was holding out her hand so she could kiss it. Yet another sign of submission and humiliation, but Trish complied, knowing that she'd face the whip if she didn't. The policewoman took a seat in an armchair. As was the custom for servants, Trish knelt by her side. Once again, Eve ran her fingers through her hair and caressed her shoulders. The two Islanders discussed the servant's performance during the day and her progress learning her new duties. "She knows how clean the kitchen and bathroom. Your bathroom and kitchen are now clean, a lot cleaner than you left them this morning. Eve...I really don't know how you could leave your house in such condition. If you weren't an adult and wearing that uniform, I'd take this switch to that black bum of yours." Eve blushed, but forced herself to smile. "Anyhow, your servant knows how to prepare fruit, make a salad, make juice, and boil rice. She made your bed, which, dear girl, you didn't. She still doesn't know anything about laundry. I figured we'd take care of that the next time you send her over. She picked mangos and took them out for the vendor. Here's your share..." Flora handed Eve two Florins. "Anyhow, I think you made a good purchase. You're right: this girl doesn't know anything, but she learns quickly." Flora stood up. "Dinnertime. Come along, love." The three women returned to Flora's house, where she had dinner waiting. The older woman already had the table set...for three people, not four. As always, the servant would have to eat sitting on the steps of the back porch. Trish served her Mistress and the older couple with plates of spicy rice mixed with fish and corn; then poured rum into three glasses. Flora noticed Trish looking at the bottle. To keep her out of trouble, she ordered her to leave it on the table. Trish took the remaining rice and sat on the steps. She ate out of the pan, figuring there was no point in dirtying yet another plate that she'd have to wash. Rice...rice...it looked like every meal the Islanders ate consisted of rice. Fuck. That was going to get real old, real fast. Housework...mango picking...constantly being stared at by every boy and teenager in the neighborhood...sweating in this horrible heat...her entire life was going to get real old, real fast. Was there any chance she could get away? Trish pondered her options. She quickly realized that physical escape was impossible. The neighborhood was watching her. Even if she managed to get out of the neighborhood, the collar marked her as a slave. If she managed to steal some clothing and get dressed it would be very clear she was a runaway. She had no money and no way of getting any. Even if she could get to the beach and steal a boat, that wouldn't do her any good. She knew nothing about navigation or operating an outboard motor. Even if she did know how to operate a boat, Santa Eduviges was out in the middle of nowhere, halfway between Panama and Jamaica with no other islands close by. No outboard motor could make it that far. Her only hope was trying to get on the Internet and tell someone where she was. She'd have to be careful that her aunt Beatrice didn't find out about her plight. OK...so...who would she contact? Her friends? No...probably not. They were a bunch of drug-addled flakes. Her boyfriend? Maybe. Why just maybe? Trish wasn't sure about that, but doubt rose up in her mind...perhaps contacting her boyfriend wasn't such a hot idea. She had gone out with him because he was exciting and presented her with a challenge, not because he was dependable. Then she realized something. She didn't love him and he didn't love her. There was no commitment, just "fun". For the first time, Trish understood something about her life that was truly frightening. She had a large social circle, but out of all those athletes and partiers, there was not a single person whom she could rely on in a crisis. She couldn't figure out who to contact, because none of her "friends" was worth contacting. The only person left was her financial manager. The problem was...she didn't know his e-mail because she was used to talking to him on the phone. She'd have to try to call him, but there was no way she dared try to call from either Eve's house or Flora's house. She'd have to find a public phone somewhere else. But then, she would need to sneak away for a few minutes and figure out how not to be caught. That brought her back to the problem of the neighborhood watching her every move. Also, she'd need money to make an international call. She wouldn't be able to hide any money, even if she could get some, because she was naked and had nowhere to conceal anything. Trish felt sick. She had gone over her options for escaping, and realized she had no options at all. She finished her rice and returned to the dining room to clear the table. ---------- A few minutes later, Eve led her exhausted servant back to her house. Her heart was pounding, because finally she was going to fulfill her sexual fantasies, satisfy the real reason she had spent her entire savings to purchase the prisoner. She started by ordering Trish to fill the bathtub. Once the tub was full, Eve ordered her servant to undress her. With shaking hands, Trish obeyed, slowly taking off her owner's police uniform, and finally her underwear. She noted Eve's muscular arms and thighs and her firm stomach. In spite of her constant exercising and police training, Eve had a very feminine body, with large breasts and an ample curvy bottom. Trish had to admit her owner was very attractive when she was out of uniform. Eve got into the bathtub and ordered Trish to shampoo her hair. She then stood up and instructed her servant to rub soap all over her. For the first time, Eve felt the hands of another woman on her skin. Oh...it felt so good. Finally she sat down and ordered the servant to massage her shoulders and arms. "I'm going to need to get a massage manual and have you study it. Massages are going to be part of our nightly routine." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." When Eve got out of the bathtub, Trish could tell she was aroused. Her eyes were wide with desire and her dark nipples were hard. Eve ordered her servant to go into the bedroom and place her hands against the wall with her feet spread. She was told to arch her back so her bottom would stick out. Eve spent a long time running her hands along Trish's body. She reached in front to fondle her breasts and sensuously caressed her thighs. However, Eve was most interested in her servant's "bum". She massaged and rubbed the girl's trembling backside, and traced between her bottom-cheeks. She squatted and kissed Trish's bottom. Eve ordered her servant to get on her elbows and knees on the bed. Trish complied and followed her Mistress's command to spread her knees and arch her back, so her bottom-hole and vulva were fully exposed. Eve gently ran her fingertips over the tightly spread bottom-cheeks before tracing the girl's exposed anus and pussy. She massaged her ward's buttocks, enjoying the feel of her skin and muscles against her fingers. Abruptly she made Trish lie on her back. She grabbed the servant's wrists and pinned them to the mattress. She knew that she was a lot stronger than her ward and could do with her as she pleased. That thought totally excited her. She looked into the American's terrified eyes. "You are mine, Servant Trish. I want to hear it. You belong to me. You are mine. Say it." "I...I am...yours, Mistress Bousquet. I belong to you." "I am your purpose in life. Say it." "You are my purpose in life, Mistress Bousquet." Eve said nothing more. She ran her hands over Trish's stomach and explored her hairless pussy with her fingertips. There was something totally exciting about that detail of her servant; that her crotch was totally stripped and totally exposed. The American's bald vulva made her look younger and very vulnerable. The skin was so smooth. Eve was totally fascinated and totally aroused. She licked the servant's nipples for a few seconds, noting with satisfaction that the holes from the rings were already starting to close. She turned her attention to Trish's hairless vulva and kissed her smooth skin. Eve lay on her back and spread her legs. "Servant Trish. Look at me. Take a good look at my body. Touch me." Trish took a deep breath and followed her Mistress's instructions. In spite of her terror and the fact she had never been with another woman, a hint of arousal welled up in her. Out of curiosity, she touched one of Eve's large firm breasts. Eve grabbed her hand and pulled her servant's face close to her own. "Put your face between my legs, Servant Trish. Kiss my thighs. Take a good look at me. Learn every detail of my pussy. Then you will bring me to orgasm. Do whatever you need to do, but make sure I climax." Reluctantly, Trish obeyed. For the next several minutes, her life would have a single purpose: bringing her Mistress to orgasm. She didn't know what to expect. Fortunately in her own past several boyfriends had performed oral sex on her, so she knew what excited her. Not knowing what else to do, she'd use those experiences to guide her with Eve. Trish started by running her fingers through her owner's pubic hair. She massaged the insides of her legs and played with her labia. Eve responded, groaning and shifting around. So far, so good. The servant pushed aside her fear of sticking her face into another woman's pussy. She kissed and licked the insides of Eve's thighs before moving her tongue onto her owner's clit. She gently licked and teased. Eve immediately climaxed...moaning with total pleasure. Trish continued licking, before remembering that she also liked having guy's tongues pushed into her vagina. She tried it with Eve, wincing at the salty, musky, gooey liquid coming out of the woman's pussy. Eve grabbed her by the hair and moaned again. It seemed a very long time passed before she calmed down. Trish's tongue was tired and her lips were sore by the time her Mistress finished climaxing. Eve felt wonderful. For the first time in her life, another person had given her an orgasm. Finally...finally it had happened. She had enjoyed a real orgasm with a lover. She told her servant to rinse off her face and to get back in bed with her. Trish rinsed out her mouth, desperate to rid herself of the taste of orgasm. She washed all that sticky liquid off her cheeks. She was disgusted, but she knew that she'd better get used to it. She understood that Eve had bought her, not to do housework, but for sex. Regardless of whether or not she found it disgusting, she'd have to perform the same task every night. Trish got back in bed with her Mistress. Eve was satisfied for the moment, but she wanted to take a better look at her servant's body; to see up close what exactly she had purchased the day before. She carefully studied and touched every part of Trish. No detail escaped her notice. She started with her ward's face, tracing her eyebrows and lips, and looking carefully into her mouth and eyes. She noted small imperfections such as the occasional freckle and the small scars left over from her various piercings. She moved to her servant's chest and arms before ordering Trish to spread her legs so she could get a good look at her pussy. She inserted her finger, noting that it went in very easily. The Servant Ch. 06 "How many lovers have you had, Servant Trish?" "I think...I think I've had around 45, Mistress Bousquet." "45? And you're only 24. Why so many?" That was a complicated question. Why did Trish have so many lovers? The only thing she could guess was that life had given her so many options, she easily got bored. After a short time with each partner she was ready to move on and try something different. Her lovers were exactly the same as far as relationships were concerned: they were not the sort to commit. Most of the men she had slept with had been college athletes; rough uncouth types, many with criminal records. The seamy underworld fascinated a spoiled girl like Trish, who had come from a safe environment and was always on the lookout for excitement and danger. Her current boyfriend, besides being a linebacker, was also a drug dealer on campus. Trish's fascination with drug dealers and their lifestyle was what had landed her into her current predicament. Trish tried to answer as honestly as she could, partly to make sense for herself why she had been with so many men and why it was always the same type of man. When Trish finished with her explanation, Eve responded: "I've only been with one man, my ex-husband. He was the only one. I wish I could have stayed with him, but I couldn't. I'm sure you realize why." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve pulled Trish over her lap. She spent a long time exploring her servant's bottom with both her eyes and her hands. At some point, she wanted to give her servant a long hard spanking, which she'd do as soon as she messed up. As she rubbed and fondled the American's pale bottom-cheeks, Eve thought about how much she was looking forward to that day. She'd be fair about it, however. The spanking would have to wait until she had a legitimate reason to punish her ward. The Servant Ch. 07 Chapter 07 -- The Island The following day, Friday, was uneventful. It was typical for any day her Mistress had to work: Trish got up and served breakfast, then went next door and spent the day picking mangos and other fruit from the two yards. She learned how to cook a couple of new food items and how to wash clothes by hand. She served dinner at Flora's house and cleaned up. Finally she bathed her Mistress, got in bed with her, and fulfilled her most important duty by bringing her to orgasm. The following morning Trish began her routine for the third day. As she waited for the water to boil, she decided to sneak a look at Eve's computer. It was an old clunky desktop that had been given away as surplus by the police department. The CPU had a small door. When Trish opened it, she was deeply disappointed to discover the C-drive was missing. The CPU was designed for law-enforcement and had removable drives. Trish looked around the desk and noted a small safe sitting on the floor. Fuck. Undoubtedly, because she was a cop, Eve knew all about securing computer equipment so no one else could use it. Trish did not notice that her Mistress had woken up and was quietly watching her from the hallway. Eve slipped back to her room and got dressed. She was tempted to confront her ward about looking at the computer, but decided to keep that discovery to herself. It was an important piece of information: that Trish wanted to access a computer, probably to get on the Internet. So, it turned out that she was not totally resigned to spending the rest of her life on Santa Eduviges as Eve's slave. Eve knew, even more than her servant; that it would be impossible to escape and get off the Island on her own. However, she was not sure who might be able to assist Trish from the United States or some other country. The main concern was the possibility that she would contact someone in Baton Rouge and, through her financial manager, somehow arrange a way to extract herself from Santa Eduviges. Admittedly, that was a long shot given the Island did not have diplomatic relations with the US, but Eve needed to eliminate that possibility altogether. The Mistress got up for a second time and ate breakfast. She could tell Trish was a bit nervous. After eating, she decided to send her servant next door so she could get online in private. She researched the Bousquet family of Baton Rouge to learn more about the rift between Trish and her cousins, trying to figure out how she could turn that to her advantage. First, she learned that the elder Bousquets were killed in a private plane crash when Trish was 18. Through reading her Facebook comments, Eve could tell that Trish was not particularly upset by their deaths: she had grown up in European boarding schools and saw very little of her parents during her teenaged years. Eve then researched the rival branch of the Bousquet family, a sister of Trish's father called Beatrice Bousquet-Davis who had been cut out of a will by her grandfather. Trish's father had partly reconciled with his sister before he died, to the point that in his will he had stated that if anything happened to Trish, she and the cousins would be granted control of the family fortune. The will also stipulated that Beatrice Bousquet-Davis would have some say in spending the family fortune and that the financial manager had to consult with her. However, that part of the will had been ignored by Trish and the manager. Eve suspected that the manager might be taking advantage of Trish's spendthrift lifestyle to help himself to some of her money. Looking through the court documents of the lawsuit filed by Beatrice, it seemed that the legal dispute was very bitter. The judge ruled against the aunt and cousins, but in his comments he expressed reservations about the ruling. There was no way Eve would contact the financial manager. However, Beatrice was a different matter. She figured that the disinherited side of the family would be more than happy to learn that Trish was serving a life sentence on an island that had no diplomatic relations with the US. She decided to e-mail Beatrice and tell her what had happened to her niece. She got a response within five minutes, with a phone number and a request that Eve call her and reverse the charges. Sure enough, Beatrice was elated over Eve's message and pressed her for more details. Eve responded by hanging up and e-mailing a copy of the arrest report, the prisoner's travel itinerary from Panama, and pictures of the cocaine pellets. Then the officer got back on the phone. The aunt was beside herself with joy. Eve advised Beatrice to talk to her own attorney before saying anything to anyone else. The response was: "Of course, Officer Bousquet. I'm not telling that shyster manager of hers a damn thing. He'll find out soon enough." After expressing profuse gratitude, Beatrice finally asked where her niece was now. Eve responded by telling a portion of the truth, that under the laws of the Island, Trish was a prisoner and that she had been awarded custody. The conversation concluded with Eve commenting that the next-of-kin needed to be notified of the arrest and conviction, given that there was no US Embassy to handle the matter. She would send an official e-mail that the aunt could use as legal documentation that the officer had fulfilled that obligation. And that was the truth. Beatrice and the cousins were Trish Bousquet's next-of-kin. After hanging up, Eve drafted a standard note that, under the laws of Santa Eduviges, served as official notification for the next-of-kin documenting the arrest and conviction of a criminal. She sent that off and got a grateful response. From what she knew of the family dispute and US law, Eve figured that Beatrice would return to court with the notification letter and arrest documents to request being granted Power-of-Attorney over the Bousquet estate. Since Trish was in no position to make any financial decisions, it would be logical to award control of her finances to the next of kin. It looked like Beatrice had every intention of moving as fast as possible with the request and that she would face a sympathetic judge. Now the family dispute was taken care of. Hopefully within a few weeks Eve would get notice that Beatrice Bousquet-Davis had seized control of the Bousquet fortune. When that happened, the possibility Eve's servant could access her money to extract herself from Santa Eduviges would vanish. So...whenever Trish did manage to sneak onto the Internet, she would be confronted with a very nasty surprise. ---------- Resolving Trish's family affairs filled up the entire morning. Eve originally had planned to take her ward to the nearby town to the weekly farmer's market. However, she knew there no longer was any point going there, because the best food already would be sold. Instead, she decided to take her servant directly to the capitol so she could be issued a Santa Eduviges ID card and officially registered as her property. The two women took a rickshaw to the capitol, retracing the route they had traveled Wednesday afternoon following the auction. They returned to the government district and entered the registry office. To the servant's dismay, the place was packed with Islanders waiting to obtain birth certificates and ID cards. Trish was the only naked person in the room. It seemed everyone was staring at her. Eve walked around, asking several questions, with Trish trailing behind. Finally the policewoman took a number. She leaned against a table, reading through Trish's records and filling out several forms. Trish knelt beside her. She stared straight ahead and tried to detach herself from where she was and what she was experiencing. The wait lasted more than two hours. Finally one of the clerks called out the number that corresponded with Eve's ticket. She tapped her servant on the shoulder and approached the clerk, who was a young man. Like every other young man on that damn island, it seemed he couldn't keep his eyes off Trish's exposed body. Eve ordered her stand up so he could get a better look at her. The clerk explained that Trish would be issued a national ID card specifically for servants. She would receive a registration number, just like any Islander or naturalized citizen. The registration meant she automatically would become a citizen of Santa Eduviges, although a citizen without any rights. He ordered Trish to stand in front of a cloth backdrop and took a picture of her unhappy face. For the public record, he also had to take some full body shots: from the front, from the back, and from both sides. Trish knelt while Eve handed over some paperwork and waited for the ID to be printed. When it was ready, Eve put the card in her purse without giving her servant a chance to see it. By the time the two women left the registration office, it was mid-afternoon. The open air markets were closing, but the regular markets still were open, which meant there was still opportunity to shop and stock up for the week. The neighborhood where Eve and Flora lived had plenty of fruit, vegetables, chickens, and pigs. However to buy rice, beans, coffee, or spices at a reasonable price it was necessary to go elsewhere. It seemed Eve wanted to visit every market in the downtown area of the capitol to see where she could get the best prices. Trish had to carry the market bags, which got heavier and heavier as the trek through the city progressed. Along with the stops to buy food, Eve also wanted to go into several bookstores. She remembered that she wanted Trish to learn how to give massages. She showed several books to her servant, asking her which one was the best for her to figure out what she needed to do. Trish picked the book she thought would be the easiest to understand and follow. Eve picked up a second book about erotic partner massage and handed two Florins to her servant. Trish had to stand in line at the cash register and pay for the two books. She got a very strange look from the store clerks when she showed them what she was buying. Within a couple of hours Trish had been forced to walk through the entire downtown area of the capitol. Altogether she must have followed her Mistress into 20 stores. She cringed at the thought that several thousand people had seen her running around totally naked and with a collar around her neck. She knew the foray into the crowded city was only the first out of many such trips. As a servant, she would have to show herself to the world: she did not have the right to any modesty. Before returning home, Eve decided to visit the central police station and chat with some co-workers. She wanted to find out the following week's duty roster, but she also wanted to show off Trish and brag about her, in the same way she'd show off a new car or some other expensive possession. As the other cops looked her over, they were impressed, especially after learning that Eve had paid only 3,500 Florins at the auction. One cop commented that a similar prisoner had been sold the previous year for 4,500 Florins. "I really wanted her, but I couldn't bid above 4,000. A colonel got her instead." Some of the men commented on Trish's lack of pubic hair. Eve ordered her servant to describe, in detail, the depilation treatments she had received in the US. She had to raise her arms to show that she had the hair in her armpits removed as well. One of the policemen brought a camera and asked to take some pictures of Officer Bousquet's new purchase. Eve responded "of course". So, for the next several minutes, Trish posed for a bunch of pictures in the hallway, by herself: with Eve, and with each of the other cops. One cop commented: "You know, Bousquet, if you find the right photographer, I bet you could recoup some of your investment. The girl's photogenic and you ought to take advantage of that." Trish could tell that her Mistress liked the suggestion and was thinking it over. Eve's co-workers told her they were going out to dinner and suggested she go with them. The group walked five blocks to one of the downtown's better-known restaurants. Trish had to lug the heavy market sacks. No one offered to help her. Once inside, the group sat at a large table, with the exception of Trish, who had to kneel by Eve's chair. While the group ate and indulged themselves with rum, she was given a glass of fruit juice. When everyone was finished, Eve scraped the leftovers onto a single plate and set it on the floor in front of her servant. She handed her a fork and told her to eat. It was yet another humiliation for Trish, to be on her knees in a crowded restaurant, eating a plate of leftovers as though she were a dog. However, she did eat. She was hungry and knew, because her Mistress already had eaten, there would be nothing to eat at home. She also knew that if she rejected the food in front of Eve's friends, later in the evening she'd face a vicious whipping. It was dark by the time the two women left the restaurant. Eve called a rickshaw and returned to her house. She ordered Trish to put away the groceries. Trish then had to undress her Mistress, which consisted of nothing more than pulling off a light dress and removing her shoes. As soon as she was naked, Eve pushed her to the wall and pinned her hands. She passionately kissed her servant and sensuously moved her pussy against her body. Her hands moved from Trish's wrists to her bottom. She grabbed and fondled the slave's ass as she continued kiss her and keep her pinned to the wall. She moved a hand to her ward's crotch and moved her lips to her breasts. Trish was scared by the sudden assault, but she knew she needed to cooperate and do what was necessary to please her owner. Now that her hands were free, she moved them up and down Eve's back. Precisely because Eve already was so worked up, the night's round of sex was over quickly. Eve lay on her bed and Trish took her usual position between her legs. The policewoman climaxed the moment Trish's tongue touched her clit. ---------- The following day, Sunday, Eve decided to take Trish to the Island's second-largest city, which was called Gannet Cove and was located at the south end of Santa Eduviges. So, instead of ordering the rickshaw driver to turn north at the airport, Eve ordered him to turn south. The road went through some pineapple plantations and then through a stretch of forest. On the other side of the forest there was a wide beach and several recently-built hotels. There also was a dock with several excursion boats that would take tourists out to nearby reefs. Even from a distance, Trish could tell that everyone on the beaches was naked. She later learned that, because most of the visitors were from Danubia, a country where swimsuits were illegal, in the tourist area swimsuits also were prohibited. Beyond the hotels, the road passed through a small town that was full of Eastern Europeans, then through another stretch of forest. Finally, Trish and her owner arrived at Gannet Cove. Gannet Cove was different from the capitol. It was smaller, but a lot cleaner and more kept-up. The houses were nicer and larger than houses anywhere else on the Island. There were more parks, the streets were wide and tree-lined, and the only stores in sight were ones that looked more typical of what would be seen in Europe. There were no crowded grungy markets like the ones Eve had visited the day before. Because Gannet Cove boasted the Island's only cruise ship dock, the streets were full of tourists and clean-cut tourism workers. Eve did not go into Gannet Cove very often because it was too expensive for an ordinary Islander. However, one of her high school classmates lived there and she wanted to visit him. The classmate was a professional photographer, so part of that day's visit would consist of Trish posing for a series of studio portraits. Trish knelt while Eve and the photographer, whose name was Jacques, chatted and gossiped about various classmates. Finally Eve got to the point of her visit: that she had just purchased Trish and wanted some studio portraits of her. Jacques agreed, but suggested also having Trish walk around Gannet Cove so he could photograph her in some of the town's more picturesque locations. Just like everyone else, it seemed he was fascinated with her body and wanted to force her to expose herself as much as possible. Of course, Eve cheerfully agreed to have her servant do whatever the photographer wanted. Jacques decided to go outdoors before the day became too hot and to do the studio portraits last. The first stop was a nearby park. The photographer experimented with various poses and having Trish pose in both the shade and out in the sun. He then took her to the bay. There was a sea-wall with a walkway on top that ran the width of Gannet Cove. He ordered Trish to walk the entire walkway and took numerous pictures of her from both the front and the back. He then took her to the city's shopping district and photographed her in public. Trish cringed at seeing all the spectators that surrounded her, but she dared not disobey. She had to pose in front of churches and monuments. Then there were the parks. It seemed that there was not a single park where he did not want to stop and take several photos. By noon, Trish had seen the entire town, and the entire town had seen her. Jacques and Eve ate lunch at a restaurant. As usual, Trish spent the meal on her knees and had to settle for a plate of leftovers. She was miserable as she ate unwanted partially-eaten food and looked out the window at the top decks of a cruise ship. She had been on several cruises, so it was very painful to see that ship and think about the luxury that less than two weeks before had been her everyday life. Now, here she was, kneeling naked on the floor of a restaurant, eating a plate of leftovers. Jacques was curious about Trish's hairless body. He noted that most of the other foreign women he had seen, the Danubian tourists, shaved under their arms, but that was it. Trish was forced to describe her depilation treatments to yet another Islander. She felt like a total freak. Eve volunteered: "You can touch her if you want. Servant Trish, stand up and put your hands behind your head." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." The photographer gently ran his fingertips over the smooth skin of Trish's vulva. "Interesting. I've never seen anything like this." After the restaurant, Eve's friend took the two women to his studio. He ordered Trish to shower while he set up his cameras and a series of backdrops. Because the first pictures were going to be a set of formal portraits, Eve changed into her police uniform. Jacques started out with Eve sitting on a stool and Trish kneeling at her side. Eve placed her hand on the servant's shoulder and looked into the camera with a haughty expression. There were pictures with Trish placing her head in her Mistress's lap, and pictures with Trish kneeling with her back to the camera and looking over her shoulder. The photographer instructed Eve to stand up. There were more pictures with Trish kneeling upright with her owner's hand on her shoulder. Then she had to get on her hands and knees. Eve stood behind her and put a foot on her back. Jacques decided to take some experimental pictures. He handed a leash and whip to his friend. Eve hooked the leash to Trish's collar. There were various domination/submission poses and several pictures of Eve threatening her servant with the whip. Trish was very worried, wondering how far the business with the whip would go. However, Jacques did not want her body marked, because he wanted to take a bunch of pictures of the servant by herself. Eve left Trish alone in front of the camera. There was another long round of pictures, with Trish assuming every position imaginable. Eve handcuffed her servant's hands behind her back, and there was another set of Trish in various submissive positions. Jacques put her in a leg spreader and took photos from several angles. The Servant Ch. 07 Eve was excited, watching Trish in all those submissive positions. A strange desire swept through her: to photographed in the nude with her servant. When she made the suggestion, Jacques was very surprised, but enthusiastically agreed. So, the photographer re-took all of the studio portraits of Eve and her slave, this time with the owner naked as well. As an experiment, he asked his classmate to pose for some pictures by herself. Eve, totally caught up in the eroticism of the moment, agreed. She posed for several pictures standing and several pictures sitting. However, the pictures were simple studio portraits, not fetish shots. Finally, Eve stepped away from the camera, packed her uniform, and put her dress back on. The policewoman signed a release authorizing her friend to post the pictures he had taken of Trish on his website. He assured her that he would only post the photos of the servant by herself: obviously the officer had to protect her reputation. Of course, Trish had no say in the matter. She was mortified, momentarily forgetting about the numerous pictures posted on Facebook of her drunk or drugged and making a fool of herself at parties and Mardi Gras celebrations. ---------- It was late afternoon when Eve and her servant boarded a rickshaw to return to her house. When they arrived at the entrance of the neighborhood, they found the road blocked. It turned out that a pickup truck had hit a telephone pole and the pole now was lying across the street. Eve paid the taxi driver and ordered her servant to walk the remaining distance to the house. The two women passed by the house where the teenagers had been trying to fix the outboard motor. As always, the group's members were hanging around and drinking beer; the only difference that day was they were trying to fix a motor scooter instead of a boat motor. After hiding their beer, their eyes immediately locked onto Trish. By unfortunate coincidence, one of the teenagers had purchased a high-quality digital camera and was showing it to his friends. When he asked if he could take some pictures with the American, Eve told him "yes", and ordered her servant to pose however the boys wanted. The group spent several minutes having Trish pose by herself, then with each of the boys, and finally with all of them together. Finally there was another round of pictures of Trish posing by herself. The teenager with the camera ordered the servant to get on her elbows and knees, spread her legs, and arch her back so that her anus and vulva were totally exposed in the hot afternoon sunlight. Then he told her to lie on her back and pull her knees up to her chest, again forcing her to completely expose herself. He took several variations of the photos, trying to get both the servant's face and her vulva in the same image. He moved the motor scooter into the road and ordered her to put a foot on the seat. He took several images from different angles with her in that pose, before ordering her to get on the motor scooter and pretend to ride it. The boys were not done with their model. They were listening to a portable radio that was playing salsa music. They turned it up and ordered her to dance in the middle of the road. Fortunately Trish liked salsa music and was a good dancer, so for a few moments she was able to lose herself in music and dance, ignoring the constant click-click-click of the camera that was capturing her every move. Soon enough, however, the song ended and she was faced with the harsh reality that the teenager had just taken dozens of digital photos of her dancing in the nude. The photo session only ended when the teenagers ran out of ideas for additional pictures. There must have been several hundred images of her body on that camera, which were sure to be copied over and over and make their rounds through the neighborhood. When the boys finished they thanked Eve, but did not say anything to their model. The photo session with the teenagers left Trish badly shaken, more so than the session with Jacques. She wanted assurance that the pictures would not end up on the Internet, but she dared not say anything. She knew there was no point. As her Mistress had said: "...Your body no longer belongs to you. People are going to want to look at you and, because you're collared, you are going to let them look at you. You have no choice in the matter. You are a servant, and you will act like a servant..." Her body no longer belonged to her. No, really it did not. She knew that within a few days, several hundred lewd high-resolution photos of her naked figure would be posted all over the Internet and become public domain. Trish wished that she could speak to her owner and ask why degrading herself was so necessary. However, she already was beginning to figure out the answer to that question on her own. Eve wanted to emphasize the harsh lesson that she no longer had any say over what happened to her. The policewoman wanted her submission to be absolute, for her to do whatever she was told without doubt and without question. ---------- A few minutes later the two women returned to Eve's house and Trish filled the bathtub. She had to bathe her Mistress and shampoo her hair, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day. She massaged Eve's shoulders and discovered that her owner liked to have her breasts gently rubbed. She soaped the upper part of Eve's body and massaged her shoulders, arms, and breasts. That reminded her that her Mistress would expect her to start doing full-body massages as part of the nightly routine by the end of the week. The day ended in the way that most of her days would end, with her head between her Mistress's legs and her tongue exploring her vagina. To add to Trish's frustrations, that night it seemed that Eve took forever to climax. By the time the evening's round of sex was over, Trish was so exhausted she could barely make it back to her sleeping cot. Trish was still upset over the way her Mistress had treated her that day. However, for the time being at least, there was nothing she could do about it. The only option she had was to please Eve as much as possible and hope the policewoman eventually would treat her better. The Servant Ch. 08 Chapter 08 -- Servant Trish Trish woke up before sunrise the next morning. There was no alarm clock to get her up; but instead there was something worse: roosters. The neighborhood was full of them. Flora and Pierre, it seemed, had one of the loudest and most obnoxious roosters of them all: a bird that delighted in standing right outside the living room window and letting Trish have it. At the beginning of her first full week as a slave, Trish groaned and got out of her cot, cussing out both the roosters and the speed in which the night went by. She grabbed a mango seed out of the trash and with all her strength threw it at Flora's rooster. She managed to clip his tail feathers and sent him running off, clucking in protest. Trish put her newly-acquired cooking skills to use and prepared coffee and breakfast. She heard her Mistress getting up. Good thing she already had started breakfast. Good thing she already was awake. Good thing Flora's rooster had woken her up. Eve was fully dressed in her uniform by the time Trish had finished cooking. Trish knelt, greeted her owner, and served her. While the policewoman cleaned her service revolver, Trish ate the remaining food and cleaned up the kitchen. As she was about to leave for work, Eve had her servant kneel to receive her orders for the day. After cleaning the bathroom and floors and making the bed, she'd have to take Eve's clothes next door to wash them. She'd also have to take her massage books with her and study them. "I have to go to range qualification and do a PT test today. I'm going to be sore when I get back and I'll need a massage." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." ---------- The day did not start out well. Trish hauled a huge bundle of clothing to Flora's house, dreading the prospect of having to spend the entire morning washing all that crap. The problem was, she had forgotten that she'd also have to pick up three days' worth of fallen mangos from the yard and harvest a bunch more out of the tree, so the clothes would have to wait until the afternoon. When Flora made that announcement, Trish rolled her eyes, a gesture she very quickly would regret. "Get on your elbows and knees, young lady." When the servant complied, Flora gave her a vicious swipe across her bottom with her switch. Trish cried out from the sudden pain. Her hands involuntarily went to her bottom. "I guess you want more, young lady. I didn't say anything about you getting up. Get back into position. Now!" Flora struck hard three times. Trish cried out, but managed to keep her elbows on the floor. "Young lady, you will NEVER disrespect me like that again! I guess you've forgotten your place around here! I guess I need to remind you who you are!" Flora laid another four cruel welts across the American's exposed bottom. Trish's body shook with sobs. She couldn't believe how much strokes from a flimsy piece of tree limb could hurt. Flora stood over the slave, tapping the switch in her hand. "In school the usual punishment for disrespect was 12 strokes of the switch on the bare bottom. So, young lady, do you want the last four?" Trish managed to get out "...no, Mistress Flora" between sobs. "Well, I guess that's just too bad, isn't it? Your Mistress left me in charge of you, so it's up to me to decide how many strokes you're getting. Prepare yourself and don't you dare move, or I'll give you a lot more." Flora stuck very hard over the next couple of minutes, spacing the final four strokes about 30 seconds apart to allow the servant to feel each one. "Now. Get outside and attend to your duties. I hope there's no more unpleasantness between us today." "Yes, Mistress Flora." Trish was crying when she went outside. Flora, with the switch still in her hand, followed her out. The yard was totally covered with mangos. "The buckets to put the mangos in are over there. Get the ones near the sidewalk first. Then you can work your way back towards the house." "Yes, Mistress Flora." As soon as Trish began picking up the mangos closest to the street, the neighborhood's school children started passing by in their uniforms on their way to class. A lot of the children stopped to watch Trish as she worked. She made an interesting sight, a naked American with 12 red welts on her bottom and tears rolling down her cheeks. Some of the children were pointing at her and giggling. A couple of the older students had cell phones and were taking pictures. Trish dared not say anything to the kids. Nor did she dare leave the front part of the yard. Flora was standing in the shade, watching her and tapping her hand with the switch. After a few minutes the kids moved on. If they were late to class they'd feel their teacher's switch on their own bottoms, so they reluctantly left the interesting spectacle in the retired woman's front yard. However, as soon as the younger kids went away, the neighborhood's high-school students started passing Flora's house, including the boys that had taken pictures of her the day before. Oddly enough, Trish was much more embarrassed by having the girls seeing her than the boys. The boys were mostly quiet, but the girls happily chatted with each other about Trish and her predicament. Fortunately, time was running short and the teenagers had to get to class. As soon as the high school kids were gone, Flora went back inside. She had proved her point and expected no further trouble from Eve's servant. Trish spent the entire morning picking up mangos, sorting them, dumping the damaged ones into a compost pile, washing the good ones, and stacking the sellable fruit inside plastic bins for the vendor. Flora returned to the yard shortly before 11:00 to tell the servant which mangos she wanted harvested from the tree. By then, the vicious sting from the welts faded into a dull ache. However, the welts had swollen and were dark. Trish knew that if she sat down, very quickly she'd be reminded of the morning's "unpleasantness". Trish continued working with her ladder and pole until 12:30, when the fruit vendor came by. Flora came out to collect the money for the mangos. Trish knelt while the other two conversed. Of course, the vendor was curious about the welts on the servant's bottom. Flora turned to Trish: "Explain what happened, young lady." Trish was forced to tell the story of how she rolled her eyes and was punished for it. Flora interjected: "The punishment was just not for rolling your eyes, young lady. It was because you showed me that you did not want to perform your duties. It wasn't just disrespect, Servant Trish; it was defiance, and I will not tolerate defiance from a collared delinquent." "Yes, Mistress Flora." Tears welled up in the servant's eyes. She didn't understand why, but being referred to as a "collared delinquent" hurt her feelings as much as the switching itself. Flora told Trish that she would not be eating anything out of the kitchen that day. If she was hungry enough, she could take whatever she wanted from the fruit trees. Trish sullenly consumed several pieces of fruit before going onto the back porch and dealing with the mound of clothing sitting on top of the sink. Flora, with the switch in her hand, instructed Trish as she performed the afternoon's duty. The afternoon went only slightly better than the morning. Flora caught Trish giving her a resentful look. She ordered the servant to put her hands on the sink and gave her two cruel strokes over her already marked bottom. She ordered Trish to get back to her laundry, without allowing her to rub her newest welts. By unfortunate coincidence, Trish had to hang the clothes outside Flora's house precisely at the moment the school children were returning home from their classes. So...a bunch of kids got another good look at the unhappy servant and her marked bottom. By 4:00 Trish was as tired as a person could be. However, the only break she got was from physical labor, because now she had to study the massage manual and figure out, in just a couple of hours, how to give a massage. She tried sitting on one of Flora's hard wooden chairs, but the ache from her welts forced her to remain standing as she looked over the manual. Shortly before Eve was scheduled to return, Flora reminded Trish that her owner probably did not have any massage oil. Therefore Trish would have to go to a small store at the opposite end of the street and see if there was any coconut oil available. She handed the servant a quarter-Florin and sent her on her errand. Trish walked down the street in the infernal heat with the late afternoon sun shining on her bare body. There were a few neighbors walking around or working in their yards, but fortunately the street was not overly crowded. Still, the walk was not pleasant. The neighbors were interested in her attractive figure, but more of their attention was drawn to the welts covering her bottom. Her punishment had been made public. When she bought the coconut oil, the shopkeeper snapped at her for not kneeling. He threatened to tell her Mistress about her disrespect unless she allowed him to grope her. Trish was terrified, but responded that he would need to talk to Eve about touching her. Anyhow, she was not allowed to talk without her Mistress's permission. Much to Trish's surprise, the shopkeeper backed off and did not say anything more. When Eve returned from work, Flora ordered Trish to bend over and show the 14 welts on her bare bottom. Eve gently ran her hand over her servant's injured backside. Then Trish had to kneel and explain why she had been punished. The police officer casually commented: "Disrespect will get you unpleasant results. I hope you've learned your lesson." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Trish was terrified that Eve would further punish her. Fortunately Flora added: "I'm sure she understands what she did wrong, love. Yes, there was a little unpleasantness, but she did work hard in the garden this morning and your laundry's clean. She's been disciplined enough for the day." Eve responded by stroking Trish's hair. ---------- When Eve returned home with her servant, Trish pondered what she should say about the incident with the shopkeeper. She was worried about how her Mistress would react. However, she knew that if she said nothing, and then Eve heard something from the shopkeeper or someone else, she could expect to be whipped. Better to come clean about the incident now, take whatever consequences right away, and then not worry about it. Trish's hunch turned out to be correct. Eve was very irritated at the shopkeeper, not for his disrespect towards Trish, but because he had disrespected the servant's Mistress. One didn't just go around groping someone else's property without first getting the owner's permission. Anyhow, Eve added that Trish had handled the incident correctly, by telling him to talk to her owner and not say anything more. "I'll have a chat with him. I guarantee it won't happen again." Trish noticed that Eve's uniform was dusty and that she smelled strongly of sweat. Obviously she had endured a rough day, having to pass both PT testing and then range qualification with various weapons. She suspected her Mistress's lenient attitude was partly due to being extremely tired. Best to take advantage of that and make sure she stayed in a good mood. Trish ran a bath for her owner and helped her get cleaned up; shampooing her hair and massaging her shoulders and arms, as usual. She dried the policewoman with a towel. Eve had not said anything about cancelling the night's massage, so Trish pulled down the covers of her bed and opened the bottle of oil. The Mistress lay down on her back. Trish lit several candles and turned out the light. She spread oil over Eve's entire body, making sure to include her breasts and inner thighs. She admired her owner's strong figure, which was muscular and intensely feminine at the same time. Starting with Eve's face, she followed the book's instructions as best she could; relying on what she remembered from her two hours of reading. It was hardly a perfect massage, but considering it was the very first time, she did surprisingly well. Trish knew that she needed to pay attention to Eve's arms and thighs, the parts of her body that bore the brunt of the day's physical training. However, after the front of Eve's body was finished and she had flipped on her stomach, Trish became fascinated with her owner's backside. She spent a long time massaging her large shapely "bum", fascinated by how those large bottom-cheeks felt in her hands. By the time her servant had finished massaging her feet, Eve already had fallen asleep. Trish was unsure about leaving the room without permission, so she remained sitting on the bed. Without thinking about what she was doing, she rubbed her owner's bottom. Without realizing it, Trish had started to find the police officer attractive. She was especially fascinated with her shapely rear. It was strange to think that the first time Eve had ordered her servant to kiss and lick her anus and the sensitive area that surrounded it, Trish was disgusted. However, that night, had Eve been awake and had ordered her to do the same thing, she would not have minded. Her time in captivity already was changing how she thought about sex. Eve was clearly asleep for the night, so Trish blew out the candles and left the room. She set up her own cot in the living room and promptly closed her eyes. Best to get some sleep while she had the chance. That fucking rooster would be waking her up soon enough. ---------- The following morning Trish started the normal morning routine, assuming that she'd spend yet another day working in Flora's yard. However, after preparing breakfast, the servant found out that Eve planned to take her to the airport. It turned out that there was going to be a change of commander ceremony at noon, which would be followed by a free lunch for the facility's entire security detail. It was customary on the Island that anyone who owned a servant should be willing to make that person available to help out in work-related situations. Since all of Eve's co-workers knew that she had recently bought a criminal, she was expected to bring her to assist the café staff set up for the meal and serve food. It also was an excellent chance for Eve to show off her new girl to the co-workers who had not yet seen her. Trish was extremely reluctant to board the rickshaw and leave the safety of the neighborhood. Her bottom was still very much marked-up from the previous day's punishment. She did not look forward to the prospect of running around naked for an entire day in front of Eve's co-workers and airport staff. She was very nervous about making some awful mistake that would upset her Mistress and earn her a whipping upon returning home. Finally, there was the painful memory of what had happened to her just two weeks before and the thought that she would be so close to the departure gate...so close...and yet so far... When she got out of the rickshaw and followed her Mistress towards the terminal, Trish noticed the airplane in which she had arrived pulled off to the side, abandoned in a spot where several other dilapidated aircraft were being kept and stripped for parts. The engines already had been removed and a cargo door was missing. She felt sorry for the plane. Like her, it was trapped and never would escape. ---------- The Santa Eduviges International Airport typically received four passenger flights each day: three of them from the Republic of Danubia. Over the past six years, Santa Eduviges had been boycotted by most countries because of its military government, with Danubia being a very important exception. The Danubians wanted to establish a commercial foothold in the Caribbean, so they took advantage of the boycott to heavily invest in the Island, especially in tourism. Every decent hotel on Santa Eduviges was Danubian-owned and set up for Danubian tastes. So...each day three large airplanes came in loaded with Danubians, and departed loaded with Danubians. Besides the passenger flights, there were several cargo flights, again mostly from Danubia. The planes brought in repair parts, electronics, and medicine, and departed loaded with mail, fresh seafood, and tropical fruit. For six years, Danubia had been a vital life-line for the people of Santa Eduviges. The international boycott was starting to break down, because investors from other countries resented the huge head-start the Danubians had enjoyed in Santa Eduviges over the past half decade. Recently a fourth daily flight started coming in from Lisbon which brought other Europeans, some of whom were not as well-behaved as the straight-laced Danubians. The Generalissimo was happy to have the extra commerce, but wanted to make sure the new tourists did not cause any trouble. So...the airport security had received several upgrades, one of which was the metal detector that had caught Trish two weeks before. Just as important as the equipment upgrades was the additional training Eve and her companions were receiving. Over the past six years the police officers at the airport had very little to keep them busy, but with the new flight coming in from Lisbon, their jobs had become more challenging. Several drug organizations already were testing the Island to see if it could be utilized as an alternate smuggling route. The airport security command was determined to prevent that from happening. Already several couriers had been caught and there were a couple of serious long-term investigations. Before dealing with the first flight of the day, the airport police officers usually met at the café to have a "working coffee break", during which they discussed pending issues and heard any new orders passed down from the Generalissimo. On that day, noting that Officer Bousquet had brought her servant, the airport commandant decided to order her to give a presentation to her co-workers about the American's arrest and the security concern it raised. The previous week Eve had raised an alarm among her commanders by letting them know that the only reason Trish Bousquet had been caught was because of her metal piercings. She could have tried to impress her bosses by claiming that she had successfully profiled Trish, but that would have been a lie. Instead, she reported that Trish had entered the country undetected and it was only through her own stupidity that she had been caught. The resulting question was: how many other drug swallowers, not wearing body jewelry, might have gone through undetected? Eve had not prepared a presentation, but she knew her commander was infamous for calling on subordinates to give impromptu lectures. With her servant trailing behind, she went to her desk, retrieved the thumb drive with Trish's arrest photos and a projector, and returned to the café. Within less than a minute she was set up and prepared to talk. She ordered her servant to stand next to the screen with her hands behind her head. Going through arrest photos and pictures of Trish's body jewelry, Eve summarized the how the metal detector first alerted her. She openly admitted that in the beginning she was not suspicious of the American in the least, but she did want to know why the metal detector kept alerting. It was only after she had a look at the detainee's stomach that she suspected the reason Trish had become uncooperative when she had to pass through the machine several times. As she stood quietly, with her hands behind her head and her body exposed to 50 police officers and airport employees, Trish felt despair sweeping through her. The only reason she had been caught was because of that fucking body jewelry. The Panamanian drug dealer had warned her to take it off before travelling, but Trish did not want to go through the hassle of putting it back on once she arrived at her destination. She figured there would be no problem. She was paying dearly for that miscalculation. The Servant Ch. 08 The presentation was about to get a lot worse for Trish. Officer Bousquet's medical assistant came before the group to give an account of the prisoner's physical appearance during the search. She ordered Trish to stand with her side facing the audience so she could talk about the swelling that was evident as soon as she had been stripped of her blouse and bra. Then the medical assistant ordered the servant to face away from the audience and bend over, forcing her to clearly display the switch-marks from the previous day's punishment. That was only the beginning. To the horror of her subject, the assistant put on a medical glove and shoved two fingers up her bottom, re-enacting the cavity search she performed when Trish was bent over the table. The assistant ordered Trish to resume her standing position, facing the audience with her hands behind her head. The servant's face was beet red from humiliation and her eyes were full of tears. She tried staring at the floor, but Eve snapped at her to stand straight and keep her chin up. It was very clear that the men sitting in the café had enjoyed the demonstration. Trish remained standing while Eve discussed her enema and forced vomiting, with photos, of course. Some of the men, the ones who had been present when Trish was taken outside and forced to expel her pellets in the car wash, cruelly smiled. Eve's commander took over, explaining how to profile drug swallowers. "With the Lisbon flight we have to do a better job, and we have to be honest about our misses and near-misses. This is important, and I can't over-emphasize how important. It's not just about the good of the country. It's also for the good of the National Police. Don't forget that every drug courier we arrest, we can auction, and that means more money for all of us." ---------- The change-of-commander ceremony was mercifully brief. Trish knelt next her owner while she watched the outgoing commander hand the airport's flag and ceremonial sword to the new commander. There was a playing of the country's national anthem, the two men saluted each other, and the rank-and-file stood up and shouted: "For our homeland...by reason or by force!" The following meal was not so easy. Trish served lunch with three other servants. It was the first time she had the chance to see anyone else wearing a collar since the auction. Her serving companions were two young women and a young man who could not have been more than 18. All three were Islanders. She wished that she had the opportunity to talk to the others, but slaves were strictly prohibited from speaking to anyone other than their owners. The punishment for talking to other servants was particularly severe: if any of the four servants was caught attempting to talk to any of the others, all four would be tied up and publicly whipped. Regardless of who was at fault, the servants would be punished together. Trish later would learn that Island slaves had protocol among themselves; and getting another servant in trouble was considered the worst offense anyone wearing a collar could commit. Trish realized that she was not alone in her suffering. Two of her companions, one of the young women and the teenaged boy, had frightened looks on their faces and fresh whip-marks covering their bottoms. They must have been punished immediately before being brought over to the airport. The other girl appeared to be well-treated: she looked healthy, had a more relaxed expression, and her body had no marks on it. Before she saw her serving companions, it had not occurred to Trish that some slave owners were considerably better than others. There was no question Eve was harsh, but it was obvious she was not the worst owner a slave could have. The café staff had already set the tables and brought out lunch, but it was up to the four servants to make sure that everyone's plates and glasses stayed full. Trish had to pour glass after glass of rum, which was pure torment for a person used to heavy drinking. She dared not sneak a sip, however. Eve had warned her that she had brought a breathalyzer test kit and was ready to use it if she suspected Trish had anything to drink. More difficult than not being able to drink any rum was dealing with the wandering hands of Eve's co-workers. The cops felt that, because the servants were property and had no rights, they were free to touch them whenever they passed by. Trish was afraid to react as she felt hands sliding up and down her legs whenever she slipped between seated men to fill glasses. Some men fondled her thighs and others caressed her bottom. However, she realized that her situation could be worse. The young male servant had to fill all of the glasses of the women in the room. They teased him by brushing his penis and testicles with their fingertips and gently caressing his thighs and welt-covered bottom. As a result of their treatment, he had to spend the meal serving rum and other drinks with a furious erection, to the delight of the female cops. Following lunch, Trish had to accompany her Mistress around the café and endure being shown off. Eve still was very proud of her purchase; eager to talk about both the auction and Trish's transition to slavery. Over and over Trish had to explain her depilation treatments and how she got rid of the hair on her body, or explain what she did in Panama that landed her into so much trouble when her flight arrived by accident on the Island. There were multiple inquiries about her body jewelry. Several times she was forced to endure having her breasts examined and pinched as Eve's co-workers looked for the scars remaining from the nipple rings. Finally, there were photos. It seemed that Islanders really liked taking pictures of themselves with naked servants. Almost everyone, including the outgoing commander, wanted photos, some with just one servant, and some with all of them. Trish, because she was so unusual, was the favorite of the four slaves present in the room. The young male was the second most favorite; almost as popular as the American. He was still running around with an erection, which the women working for the airport security unit thought was hilarious. Finally the gathering ended and the duty officers returned to work. The servants also had to return to work, while the café workers relaxed and ate what was left over from the cops' lunch. They watched and took pictures as the four collared criminals cleaned the tables and washed the dishes...by hand, because supposedly the dishwasher wasn't working. It's strange how experiences change a person's perspective on life. As she scrubbed plate after plate, Trish thought about Flora's garden and the mango tree...and how much she'd prefer to be picking up mangos than what she was doing at the airport. ---------- It was well after dark when Officer Bousquet and her servant returned to her house. Trish was too tired to feel much despair or resentment over the way she had been treated that day. The only thing she wanted was her cot. Eve had other ideas. She was totally aroused after having watched her servant working naked in public throughout the day and submitting herself to one degrading situation after another. With no warning, she grabbed her slave's hands and pinned her to the wall of her living room. "Who do you belong to, Servant Trish?" "I...I...I'm yours, Mistress Bousquet." "That's right, little servant. You belong to me. You're mine! Get it? You're mine! Say it!" Trembling with surprise and fear, Trish managed to reply: "I'm yours, Mistress Bousquet. I belong to you." Eve was in no mood to wait any longer. She pulled off her uniform and sat down on her sofa, with her legs spread wide. Trish knew what she had to do. She knelt and "took her proper place" between her owner's thighs. She'd have to sleep later. At that moment the priority of her life was Eve's nightly orgasm. The Servant Ch. 09 Chapter 09 -- An honest conversation Trish spent the remainder of her third week on the Island working under Flora's supervision while Eve went to her job at the airport. Trish learned a few more things about maintaining a house and garden: by the end of the week she knew what was expected from her in Eve's house. The tasks became less daunting and she was able to utilize her time better. Flora turned out to be more fair as a trainer than Trish originally thought. She was harsh, but never pushed the servant unnecessarily. If Trish finished a task early, and finished it to Flora's expectations, she'd be rewarded with a break. On Thursday Flora even rewarded the servant with an hour-long nap. ---------- On Friday the policewoman commented that she and a co-worker had successfully profiled a German heroin courier and arrested her. Eve relayed a cold assessment of the new prisoner to her servant: "The German won't fetch as much as you did at auction, not by a long-shot. She's all strung-out and covered with tattoos. If I was forced to buy her, the only thing I'd use her for would be manual labor. She's not a cute little sex-pot like you." ---------- Friday night, Trish couldn't get to sleep. The heat seemed particularly oppressive. As she lay awake, she had a chance to think about her situation. It was only natural that she did not want to remain a slave for the rest of her life. She did not want to do all those chores and she did not want to spend her days taking orders from a psychotic Third-World police officer. She did not want to be called "Servant Trish" and "my little sex-pot" by another woman. What she was doing was totally ridiculous. Why on earth was she putting up with all that humiliation? Escape was impossible. She would not be able to get on the Internet any time soon. She couldn't call anyone. No one was coming to her rescue. So, the only remaining option was to try to reason with the woman who claimed to be her owner. Trish Bousquet had money. She had lots of money. She figured that everyone has their price, including Officer Eve Bousquet. Surly she could talk to the policewoman and ransom herself. Surly there had to be some amount that Eve would accept to release her from servitude. Trish was so desperate that she was willing to go high; to offer as much as half of her estate. The following morning the servant got up and had breakfast ready. It was Saturday, which meant a grueling trek into the capitol's crowded markets. Trish was hopeful that she wouldn't have to go that day. She nerved herself for what she was about to do: try to reason with Eve and make arrangements to buy back her freedom. Eve got out of bed. Trish had her dress laid out and helped get ready for the day. The policewoman sat down for breakfast. Trish knelt and studied her Mistress, trying to gauge her mood. Eve seemed in good enough humor that morning: at least somewhat approachable. Trish took a deep breath, and managed to force herself to ask for permission to speak. When Eve granted permission, Trish nervously got to the point: "Officer Bousquet...I...I want to tell you something...I have money in America...a lot of it...I'm really rich...I can pay you whatever you want...if you let me go...and pay...you know...the judge or whoever else...if I can just...you know...get my passport back and go home...I promise...I'll pay you...lots...you can buy whatever house you want in Gannet Cove...or wherever...I'll prove to you that I'm rich...just let me get on the Internet...and I'll show you who I am...and how much I have...I'll give you half...if you just let me go..." Eve was not surprised in the least. She had noted that her servant was extremely nervous that morning. She figured that she knew what Trish was planning to tell her: the only surprise was that it had taken her so long to work up the nerve. Because she was anticipating the offer, Eve already knew how she would handle it. It would be an opportunity to have an honest conversation with her servant, to make her understand that her situation was permanent, and understand why her situation was permanent. "I already know who you are. You're Trish Gail Bousquet from Baton Rouge. Your father's name was James Walter Bousquet. Your family is descended from the Bousquet cotton barons. And I'll tell you the reason you and I have the same last name. Some of my ancestors, on my father's side, came to Santa Eduviges from Baton Rouge in 1866. Why do you think they would have come here that year in particular?" Trish's blank expression let Eve know that she didn't have a clue. So the stupid girl didn't even know anything about her own family history. Eve hid her disgust. "That was the year after the Civil War ended. You know...when the South tried to break off from the US? You don't know about any of that?" "I...no...not really, Officer Bousquet. I wasn't that interested...you know...in history." Eve decided not to pursue the topic. If Trish didn't even know about the Civil War, being from Baton Rouge of all places, she was hopeless. "It doesn't matter. Anyway...I know perfectly well who you are." "Then...you know I'm not lying...I can pay you...lots..." "How much do you think you can pay me?" "I...I don't know...I've got 160 million dollars...I inherited...that from my dad..." "Yes, that's what you inherited. That is not how much you have now. Right now your estate is worth about 104 million dollars. Did you know that?" Trish went white. It had not occurred to her that Eve already knew so much about her. Anyhow, there was no way the estate figure could be correct. She distinctly remembered that she had inherited 160 million dollars. Eve continued: "In Santa Eduviges, the arresting officer is required to notify the criminal's next-of-kin. In your case, since you don't have your parents anymore, the next of kin is your aunt, Beatrice Bousquet-Davis. So, I contacted Mrs. Bousquet-Davis and let her know where you were and what had happened to you. I sent her copies of your arrest records. I also sent her your passport and personal effects." Trish went from being pale to feeling very sick. Oh shit. Her aunt Beatrice was absolutely the last person she wanted to know about her arrest. Before she had a chance to recover and argue, Eve added: "I'd imagine you would have preferred that I contact your financial manager. That's not the requirement of my government. The requirement is notifying the next-of-kin, which is what I did." "Anyhow, undoubtedly you're wondering why I said your fortune is worth 104 million dollars, instead of 160 million. I know that because your aunt conducted an audit of your estate after she went to court to enforce the conditions of your father's will. In six years, your assets went from 160 to 104 million. In other words, in six years you spent 56 million dollars. Did you know that? Did you know that in six years, you spent 56 million dollars and have absolutely nothing to show for it?" Trish was stupefied. Without thinking about what she was saying...she mumbled: "How much...how much did she pay you...to do this to me?" "She didn't pay me anything. Why would I want her money? Or your father's money, for that matter? Maybe it hasn't occurred to you, Trish Bousquet, that I have everything I need? I have a nice house. Maybe it's not what you're used to, but it suits me just fine. I have a job that I enjoy and makes me a useful person. I have friends in the neighborhood. I like my country. It's not perfect, but like my house, it suits me just fine. So there's your answer, Trish Bousquet. I don't need your money, and I don't want your money." There was a pause, before Eve added: "I already knew you'd try to bribe me. I'm only surprised you didn't try it earlier." "But...you can't keep me like this...you don't have the right..." "In Santa Eduviges, I do have the right. Whether you like it or not, you are now a citizen of this island. Under the laws of Santa Eduviges, I bought you and now I own you. And you'd better understand something, Trish Bousquet. Once this conversation is over, you will continue to fulfill your obligations as my servant. Nothing between us has changed." "Officer...I...I mean..." "Yes. You are calling me 'Officer Bousquet' instead of 'Mistress Bousquet'. You'd better understand that will stop as soon as this conversation concludes." Trish felt numb. She felt the world closing in on her last hope; that her money meant anything on Santa Eduviges. Eve took note of her exasperated expression and continued: "Actions have consequences, Trish Bousquet. Your parents chose not to keep you with them when you were growing up. So... as a result of that decision, you became in irresponsible burden on your family name. Very well. That part you can't help. But then there were all the choices you made. Yes, maybe your parents ignored you, but you could have overcome it had you wanted to. People overcome a lot more difficult problems than that. You had plenty of opportunities and things to choose from, a lot more than most people, but every decision you ever made was a stupid one. You chose to waste your life partying. You chose not to study. You chose to hang out with criminals and drug dealers. You chose to make an enemy of your father's sister. And finally, you chose, for no good reason at all, to fly to Panama and stuff yourself with cocaine so you could pretend to be a drug dealer and impress your thug boyfriend." Trish said nothing, but tears rolled down her cheeks. "There's something else you need to know, and I only found this out after we took you into custody. If your plane had not landed here, you would have been caught anyway. You would have been arrested with your cocaine in Miami. How do I know that? Because when I checked your departure information, I found out there was a watch placed on you in Panama City. In Miami the airport customs was waiting for you." "You were that interested?" "At the beginning, no. It was just a standard courier watch, and as I said, we didn't know about it until you were already in custody. Of course, what got you caught was all your 'jewelry'...if that's what you want to call it. Wearing all that metal embedded in your skin while doing a drug run was your final stupid decision; the last stupid decision you'll ever get to make." Eve sipped her coffee and continued: "Anyhow, you asked me if I was that interested. I guess what you meant to ask...was I interested in you when I arrested you." "Yes, Officer...I was wondering...how come you wanted to know so much about me." "Because...the night after we took you into custody, I started thinking about you. I realized I had a very good chance of buying you. So the next day I made arrangements to place a bid when you went up for auction. I wanted to know what I was buying, so I did some research." "But...why?" "I found you attractive and I wanted you. It's that simple." Trish did not know how to respond to the policewoman's blunt honesty. Eve finished her meal while her servant knelt silently, wondering what else she could say. Eve set her fork on her plate. "Servant Trish, I need to check my e-mail before we leave, which will give you time to clean up. Get the market sacks and make sure they're cleaned out." Trish forced herself to acknowledge the return to her life as Eve's collared servant by responding: "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve opened her safe, making sure her body was blocking Trish's view of the dial as she spun it. She inserted the removable drive, typed in her password, and checked her account. After Trish finished cleaning up from breakfast, she approached the Mistress and knelt. Eve turned off her computer, removed the hard drive, and returned it to the safe. Trish noticed the safe contained the policewoman's service revolver and several files of personal documents. Undoubtedly, among those documents were the auction receipt and servant ownership papers. Eve closed the safe and addressed her ward: "Servant Trish, don't for a moment think that I am not aware of what you're thinking. You've been trying to figure out how you can escape from your obligations as my servant. What you tried to do today was proof enough of that. The fact that you were desperate enough to give me half your fortune shows how much you'd like to go back to your life of drugs and parties. I also think that by now you are aware that you don't have any other options for getting away. Over the past three weeks you've wracked your brain and came up with nothing. Am I right about that?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "You haven't come up with any ideas because there's no way you can escape this island. Also, there's no way I would ever release you. The purpose of your life is to satisfy my needs and that's the end of it. The sooner you come to terms with that purpose, the better. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve's expression changed slightly. Her eyes reflected a combination of triumph, contempt, and disgust. Trish felt very apprehensive. With a condescending and sarcastic tone in her voice, the policewoman continued: "By the way, your aunt just e-mailed me with an interesting story. Last week, your boyfriend Rodney tried to break into your place. When the night clerk tried to stop him, he got beat up. Pretty badly, from the way Beatrice was talking about it. The police got there and arrested Rodney right after he kicked your door in. Nice fellow." Trish cringed from this latest piece of bad news. Her door kicked in. Shit. There was plenty of stuff in her penthouse she didn't want other people knowing about. And, of course, as always, the news got worse: "Since the door got kicked in, Beatrice got permission to go into your penthouse. She went through your stuff and, among other things, found some drug stashes and turned them over to the police. I wouldn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to guess why Rodney needed to get in there." Trish felt sick. Eve continued with that awful expression and using that sneering tone of voice: "And so...that concludes our conversation, Servant Trish. You're no closer to going back to Baton Rouge than you were an hour ago, but at least now you understand your situation a little better. Before we go downtown, I have a question. Why would you want to go back to Louisiana? Apart from a bunch of legal problems, what's waiting for you there?" "Waiting for me, Mistress Bousquet?" "Yes. What I'm wondering is whether or not you have...anyone you really care about, or a child who needs you, or a job, or a career, or some research project at the university, or perhaps charity work. Something along those lines. Anything that would make your life more useful than the life you have here. If you can think of something beneficial that you were doing and need to go back to, I'd let you talk to the judge and see about changing the conditions of your sentence." Trish said nothing. Eve was taunting her. Both women knew, and each knew that the other knew, there was not a single thing Trish Gail Bousquet had done before her trip to Panama that anyone would consider useful. ---------- A few minutes later, Eve and her very subdued servant boarded a rickshaw to go downtown to shop. Throughout the trip Trish sat quietly, staring numbly at the passing landscape. Eve was very pleased with how the morning's conversation had developed. She knew that she had successfully begun to "break" her servant. "Breaking" was a vital step in converting a collared criminal into a useful slave. It involved psychological transformation and the loss of any hope of returning to freedom. How it was done varied, depending on the owner's personality and also on the servant. Some owners "broke" their slaves with a series of whippings, others used psychological pressure, and others used a combination of deprivation and rewards. In Eve's case, all it took was a single conversation. Just a simple chat, that clarified her life's mistakes and let her know what an idiot she truly had been. Eve did not feel sorry for Trish in the least. She was where she belonged, safely under control. Some people weren't capable of exercising free will responsibly and from birth were meant to be servants. Trish Bousquet was one of them, a person much better off serving others than serving herself. The Servant Ch. 10 Chapter 10 -- Hard lessons Three weeks had gone by, but Eve was no less fascinated by her servant than she had been the moment she placed the winning bid at the auction. Everything about Trish excited her, especially her constant nudity and total submission. Eve was aware of how much she enjoyed forcing Trish to prove her submissive status over and over in public. She especially enjoyed forcing her slave to follow her around in public places with her body shamelessly exposed. She loved it when she noticed crowds staring at Trish and the fact that the American was still embarrassed by having people constantly looking at her. Eve wanted to make sure that every person on the Island would see Trish's naked body many times over. She wanted Trish to bend over and expose herself to every man who wanted to see her. She wanted to have Trish pose for thousands of pictures and have each one posted on the Internet. She wanted each photo to have Trish's real name accompanying it, so the entire world could view her and know who she was. Eve's fantasies went beyond what she had done with her so far. She dreamt of putting Trish on national television and forcing her to dance, to pose, and to submit on live broadcasts every day. She wanted to chain Trish in the most public place she could think of, with her arms and legs spread, so everyone could photograph her in detail and anyone who wanted to could fondle her body. She fantasized about flogging her in public, with camera crews filming and video of the punishment streamed all over the planet. She wanted the world to point to the naked slave and say: "Oh how the little cotton princess from Baton Rouge has fallen!" Eve knew that some of her fantasies were things that she never could do with Trish in real life: there were limitations, although in her case not too many. She did plan to have Trish do photo-shoots with every professional photographer on the Island and build up a collection of portraits. She also planned to take Trish into the Thunder Mountain National Park and do a bunch of shots of her around the volcano and the forest that surrounded it. She eventually wanted to take her servant to every corner of the Island, so that she could see and be seen by every one of Santa Eduviges' 350,000 inhabitants. ---------- That Saturday, Eve planned to fulfill a few fantasies with her servant. When the two women arrived in the capitol of Santa Eduviges, Eve decided to have a little fun by spending the day wandering all over the city. She planned to visit every single market, including one that was over a kilometer from the main commercial district. She'd go to the main police headquarters "to check on some paperwork" and then to the National Stadium to inquire about tickets for an upcoming soccer game. Now...a soccer game would be fun...having Trish accompany her and some of her co-workers to the crowded soccer stadium. Hmm... The city was, of course, very crowded. Trish had to endure the trek wearing nothing but her collar, a pair of shoes, and some sunscreen on her nose and shoulders. She had to keep her hands at her sides. If Eve saw her trying to cover up, she'd spend the rest of the day with her hands cuffed behind her back. She knew that her owner had a pair of handcuffs in her purse and was not bluffing about the handcuff threat. Whenever the two women stopped for more than a few seconds, Trish had to go to her knees. In the markets they made a lot of stops, as Eve stopped to ask about prices or whether a vendor had some hard-to-get spice. Eve knew many of the market vendors and made it a point to inquire about their health and families. Most of the vendors were curious about Trish, so Eve happily explained, over and over, the story of how her servant was arrested and auctioned. A lot of Eve's acquaintances, both men and women, were curious about Trish's lack of pubic hair. Trish had to stand up and explain about her depilation treatments. Of course, anyone who wanted to run their hand over the servant's smooth vulva was free to do so, as long as they asked permission from her owner first. Eve ordered Trish to follow her to the government district. Most of the buildings were closed, with the exception of the National Museum and the National Police Headquarters. As they passed by the museum, several startled tourists stared at the naked young woman. A couple of foreigners wanted pictures of Trish. Of course, Eve granted permission. A man with a British accent asked about Trish's collar. Eve explained the Island's judicial system; that the country could not afford jails, so criminals were collared and auctioned instead. When the man made a comment about slavery, Eve countered: "Well, have you ever felt threatened on this Island? How does crime here compare with other places you've visited?" The guy reluctantly admitted he had been mugged in Jamaica and his hotel room had been broken into while he was in the Bahamas. "So, there's your answer. Maybe we're a poor country, but nothing like that will happen to you here." After the tourist took a couple of pictures and departed, Eve commented: "There's a lot of interesting displays and artifacts in that Museum. It's supposed to be the best one in the Caribbean. I'll have to take you in there sometime." Under her circumstances, Trish could have cared less about looking at a bunch of historical crap, but she simply replied, as always: "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." When they went into the police station, Eve ran into a classmate who had changed jobs and now was teaching introductory medicine at the university. Like everyone else, he was fascinated with the slave's bald vulva and wanted to touch it. Of course, the Mistress granted permission. Trish had to stand with her legs spread and her hands behind her head while the man ran his fingertips over her exposed pussy. She noticed his expression change, as though he had solved some vexing problem. "Eve, I have a dilemma and was wondering if you could help me. In a few days I'll need to do some demonstrations of gynecological and rectal exams and I don't have a clue where I can find a live subject for the class. Your servant would be perfect, especially since she doesn't have any hair. Is there any chance you could allow me to use her, you know, as a demonstration subject for my class?" Eve's answer was predictable: "Sure, I don't see why there would be a problem. Whenever you need her, just give me a call. You have my phone number?" Eve made sure her friend had not only her home phone, but also her cell phone. Now Trish was committed to being paraded around as a medical demonstration prop in the university. Gynecological and rectal exams...how wonderful... The trip to the soccer stadium was even harder on Trish than the trek around the Market District and government buildings. Although there was no game that day, there were plenty of young men exercising and practicing. Trish had to endure being the center of attention. Compounding her embarrassment was her body's reaction to being surrounded by dozens of sweaty athletes: seeing all those guys she aroused her. She wanted to fuck every one of them. Great. Just what she needed. Sexual longing on top of everything else. Her yearning for a good round of sex made her remember that she had not had an orgasm since arriving on the Island. So...that was yet another thing in her life that Eve had taken away from her. As they wandered around in the crowds and heat, Eve made sure that her servant repeatedly drank water and juice to keep her hydrated. The problem was; all that liquid had gone through her and she badly needed to go to the bathroom. She put off telling her Mistress out of fear of being punished, but the pressure in her bladder wouldn't let her wait any longer. She requested permission to speak and explained her dilemma. Eve handed her a wet-wipe and pointed at a storm drain: "You can squat over there, Servant Trish. Make sure you wipe yourself when you're done." Trish's heart skipped a beat and she went white. She desperately hoped she had heard wrong. The street was full of people milling about. Her owner expected her to piss in the middle of a city in full view of a crowd? Eve became impatient. "Are you going to piss or not? I don't have all day, and no, we do not have time to look for a bathroom! Now quit wasting my time and get your ass over that drain!" "Y...yes Mistress Bousquet." Very reluctantly, Trish approached the drain cover. She sadly glanced at Eve, hoping for a reprieve. Eve pointed at the storm drain. Knowing that she faced punishment if she disobeyed, she squatted. Passers-by stopped to watch. The pressure in her bladder was unbearable, but Trish couldn't release. Eve stood over her, watching with an irritated expression. "Servant Trish, if you've told me that you need to piss and it turns out you don't, I'll whip your ass, right here." Trish's knees started shaking. Some of the spectators laughed at her. The pressure was so unbearable that she would not have been able to stand up, even had Eve told her that she had relented and would look for a bathroom. Still, her fucking bladder wouldn't release. Eve knew that her servant badly had to piss. She also fully understood why she couldn't. The servant had an embarrassment issue with peeing in public that would need to be addressed. After waiting nearly five minutes, the policewoman asked one of the vendors to bring her a large glass of ice water. As soon as she had it in her hand, she poured cold water down her servant's back. Trish squealed from the shock and nearly lost her balance. However, the water did work, distracting her enough so that her bladder could release. A torrent of urine gushed out and loudly splashed through the drain cover into the water below. The spectators, after having waited five minutes, cheered and clapped. Trish couldn't believe what was happening. This had to be the worst public humiliation a person possibly could endure. At that moment she hated the entire world, especially her own body. When she finished, the servant struggled to stand up. Her face was pale and her eyes were full of tears. The spectators continued to stand around, giggling and chatting about her predicament. Eve snapped: "Wipe yourself, Servant Trish!" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." So...the spectacle was not quite over: the crowd was treated to seeing a naked slave cleaning herself between the legs with a wet-wipe. "Now put that in the trash and let's go! You've already wasted enough of my time!" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve gave her servant a cruel slap on the bottom. As though the humiliation of having to relieve herself in front of dozens of onlookers wasn't enough, Trish would have to walk around with a bright red handprint on her butt. Eve looked at her servant, still irritated that something as simple as pissing should have been such a hassle. She ordered her to stand with her feet shoulder-width apart and to put her hands behind her head. She landed a series of very hard slaps on the girl's naked backside. She would make Trish pay for failing to obey. OK, Servant Trish...you think it was so embarrassing having to piss into a storm drain? Let's see how embarrassed getting a spanking in public makes you. The punishment only lasted a few minutes, but the policewoman struck hard with crisp, loud smacks. The blows landed in quick succession, administered by a woman who had spent her life working out. Maybe it was just an informal hand spanking instead of a whipping, but the force of the blows and the sharp pain from the slaps made Trish feel as though she were being hit with a paddle. Trish's bottom was bright pink before her Mistress stopped spanking. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Her backside was burning, but she knew better than to try to rub it or cover it with her hands. Eve unceremoniously ordered the servant to pick up her bags so the two women could continue on their trek through the downtown markets. Eve treated the incident as trivial, as something that Trish duly deserved for being a disobedient servant. However, she was fully aware that the experience had devastated her ward. She felt somewhat sorry for the young American: undoubtedly it was very hard for her to have to deal with such humiliation. Nevertheless, the Mistress could not display any sympathy or pity. For Trish to become a useful servant, Eve had to finish the task of completely "breaking" her. She had to be willing to obey orders without hesitation, no matter how unreasonable they might seem. She had to be willing to accept punishment in public. She could not have any personal pride, apart from the pride of being Eve's property. The sooner Trish learned all those lessons, the sooner she would stop trying to think for herself. She would be liberated from her flawed personality and would instead embrace the life her Mistress was creating for her. As Eve would say: "Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" ---------- The two women spent several additional hours wandering about the capitol. In mid-afternoon they entered a shaded park to rest for a moment and drink yet more water. In that park, Trish was confronted with a sight that she found very disturbing, a sight that made her realize that for a servant, her life was not nearly as bad as it could be. A group of Islanders was entering from the other side; a heavy-set middle-aged woman and four kids. Accompanying them was a collared male servant, a miserable-looking Islander who must have been about Trish's age. He was carrying a enormous backpack and several bags. He was barefoot and his naked body was covered with whip-marks. He followed his Mistress and her kids to a grassy area in the shade close to where Eve was sitting and Trish was kneeling. While the kids ran off to see a nearby playground, the servant unloaded the pack, which contained everything necessary for a picnic for the woman and her kids. As soon as the picnic was set up, the woman ordered the servant to get on his hands and knees. She produced a whip and aimed it at his backside: "Why do you have to be so slow, wretch?" CRACK! "What's wrong with you?" CRACK! "Where do you think you are, on vacation?" CRACK! "What do you think I bought you for, to relax?" CRACK! "Wretch, you'd better start answering me, or I'll tear the skin off you, right here!" CRACK! "I'm a lazy sack of shit, Mistress. I'm worthless." CRACK! "That's why...why I'm so slow..." CRACK! "I'm sorry." CRACK! "That's right, wretch!" CRACK! "You are a lazy..." CRACK! "...worthless..." CRACK! "...piece of..." CRACK! ...shit!" CRACK! Noting the distressed look in her servant's face, Eve commented: "Unless he starts bleeding or can't walk, there's nothing anyone can do about it. As the owner, she's within her rights, treating him like that." Eve and her servant watched the woman kick her slave several times before ordering him to kneel facing a tree with his hands behind his head. The kids came back. The two older ones spat on the family's slave and kicked his thighs before sitting down with their mother to have lunch. Eve continued: "Take a good look, Servant Trish. Now you've seen what happens if a servant does not please his owner. Ask yourself if you'd like to exchange places with him. Remember what you're seeing, and I won't have to treat you harshly. Simple and easy for both of us, yes?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." More than anything else that happened to her that day, the incident in the park "broke" Trish. Finally, she understood the seriousness of her situation. Now she understood that if she did not do everything possible to make her owner happy, she could be subjected to some real suffering, far worse than anything she had endured to so far. Perhaps her life would never get any better, but it most certainly could get worse. ---------- By mid afternoon the market bags were full with food and condiments, including a week's supply of rice and a 5-kilo bag of flour. Trish's arms and shoulders ached from lugging all that stuff around. It was infernally hot, so Eve continued plying her with water and juice. Trish knew that it was only a matter of time before she would have to piss again. Fortunately she made it through the rest of the trip around the capitol without having to request another potty break. However, on the way back to Eve's house Trish knew that she couldn't hold up much longer...if only she could make it to the house... Trish was immensely relieved when the rickshaw stopped in front of her Mistress's residence. She knew that she'd at least have to move the bags to the kitchen, but then she'd ask her Mistress for permission to pee. She knelt and very nervously made her request. "Servant Trish, that's fine. You can piss, but you're going to need to go out onto the street and do it there. It's obvious you have an obedience issue about this and until you've worked through it, you won't be using my bathroom." Eve took a whip from a drawer in the living room cabinet. "Let's go." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Trish sadly went out onto the street. The Mistress chose a spot away from the shade, making sure she was a visible as possible. Trish squatted, but she had the same problem that she had in the city...her damn bladder wouldn't release. This time Eve did not wait five minutes. After just 30 seconds, she cracked her servant across the shoulders with her whip. Three reddish welts quickly appeared on Trish's back. The blow worked: Trish screamed, but her bladder immediately released a large puddle of urine onto the pavement. Eve ordered Trish to stand up and wipe herself. She noticed that several neighbors, including Pierre, were watching. Eve poked her in the back with the whip handle and ordered her to get back inside. "The bathroom in my house, and the one in Flora's house, will be off-limits until you get over this problem you have with pissing. You are a servant, and when you're attending to your duties, pissing is a privilege, not a right. You will learn to piss when and where I tell you. You'll learn to do it quickly so you don't make me waste my time waiting. And don't think you can get around it by not drinking, because in a tropical climate, allowing yourself to get dehydrated will kill you." A few minutes later, Eve was in the bathtub, with her servant massaging her shoulders and breasts. That night Eve wanted a full-body massage. Trish was exhausted and the welts across her shoulders hurt every time she moved her arms, but she did her best to satisfy her Mistress. Following the massage, Eve was very much awake and wanted an orgasm. That night she was particularly demanding. First she wanted Trish to give her a normal round of oral sex by teasing her clit and putting her tongue up her vagina. Then, she rolled on her stomach and draped herself over several pillows. She spread her legs to fully expose her bottom. Trish spent the next half hour caressing and massaging Eve's firm butt-cheeks as she worked her way towards the final goal, her Mistress's anus. Trish had to kiss Eve's bottom-hole; then sensuously move her tongue in gentle circles around the opening. Eve enjoyed having her bottom caressed and stimulated, and she especially enjoyed having her servant's tongue exploring that most intimate part of her body. Eve ordered Trish to brush her teeth and to return to the bed. She grabbed the servant's wrists and pinned her arms to the mattress. She clamped the American's wrists with a vice-like grip. She wrapped her strong legs around the legs of her ward. At that moment Trish was immobilized and helpless. "Who do you belong to, Trish Bousquet?" "I belong to you, Mistress Bousquet." "That's right, Servant Trish, you belong to me. You're mine. Get it? You're mine." The Servant Ch. 10 "Yes, Mistress Bousquet. I'm yours. I belong to you." "What is the purpose of your life?" "To do stuff for you, Mistress Bousquet. To do what you tell me." "That's only part of it. You're purpose in life is to satisfy all of my needs. I am the reason for your very existence, Servant Trish. That's why I bought you. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve kept Trish immobilized and helpless for several more minutes, to make sure the servant understood that she could never escape. She had begun a new life, entered a new reality. Everything that she had experienced before she was auctioned was irrelevant. Mistress Eve Bousquet was all that mattered. The Servant Ch. 11 Chapter 11 – A servant’s pleasure The following morning was Sunday. As soon as both women were awake, Trish asked her Mistress for permission to relieve herself. Eve picked up her whip and had the servant follow her to the street. Fortunately the policewoman had no need to use it: Trish peed on cue and wiped herself off. It helped that no neighbors were out of their houses that early in the morning, but it also helped that Trish was more accepting of her servitude and more relaxed about doing what she was told. After going back inside, Eve ordered Trish to stand still so she could smear heavy-duty water-proof sunscreen on her face and upper body. She then ordered her servant to follow her next door to Flora's house. The older couple was ready to go out. Pierre was holding a bag full of swimming flippers and diving masks. There were gallon-jugs of water sitting on the porch with bags of fruit. Flora had a water-proof camera hanging around her neck. Also present was a very well-built young man who turned out to be a son with the same name as his father. For the first time since her arrival on the Island, Trish was going to have the chance to go to one of its beaches. Eve, Trish, and the younger Pierre divided the load between them and they took a path that lead through a grassy salt marsh to the shore. The area was bigger than it appeared from Eve's house and it took the group 40 minutes to cross it. They arrived at a fishing village and a spot where several open-hull boats had been pulled onto the beach. Pierre junior talked to a cluster of young men, one of whom agreed to take the group onto the water. The villagers pushed one of the boats into the surf and the five passengers got in. The boat crossed a smooth open stretch of water, heading east towards a line of rocks and breakers in the distance. During the journey Eve took several pictures of her servant. She handed the camera to Flora and held Trish's shoulders, wanting several photos of together with "her little sexpot". Just short of the rocks, the boat owner cut off his motor and dropped an anchor. Eve and her companions then did something that surprised the American: they got undressed and stashed their clothing in a water-proof bag. The younger Pierre passed out snorkeling gear to the group. His eyes scanned Trish as he handed her a mask and flippers. Trish was looking at him as well. Along with his muscular body, he had a nice large cock that now was on display. She badly wanted to touch it and couldn't get her mind off thinking how much she'd like to have him inside her. Like everyone else, Pierre junior was curious about Trish's lack of pubic hair. She glanced at her Mistress, who ordered her to tell the story of her depilation treatments. For the first time Trish enjoyed going into detail about how her hair had been taken off. She spread her legs so he could get a better view. When Pierre junior asked for permission to touch Trish's vulva, Eve consented. Trish willingly kept her legs spread, badly wanting to feel the young man's hand caressing her. His fingertips passed over her pubic area, but she wanted him to move down...just a little. She could tell that he wanted to, but with her owner and his parents still sitting in the boat, he was not about to take that risk. Now, that really sucked. Trish desperately needed some good sex and an orgasm... Eve took it for granted that her servant knew how to swim. Noting that she was giving Flora's son too much attention, she gave Trish a crisp slap on the bottom and ordered her to get into the water. The water felt totally great. It was the first time in her life that Trish had gone snorkeling in the nude. Pierre junior left his parents and swam away from the boat, apparently looking for something along the reef. Eve swam along the reef in the opposite direction, taking some pictures with Flora's camera. Trish followed her. Eve wanted to take some underwater shots of her servant, so she ordered Trish to dive to the coral and come back up several times. She then ordered Trish to take off her mask and swim around some more. Even though she had to pose and perform for her Mistress and her camera, Trish enjoyed the reef and the chance to do something different from picking up fruit and running around crowded cities. Eve also enjoyed the experience and learned an important lesson. If she could do fun things with her servant, give her moments of pleasure along with all the hard work and discipline, Trish was much more likely to become content with her new life. Eve's ultimate goal was to make the servant totally dependent on her, but she also wanted Trish to willingly submit and eventually to love her. Balancing discipline with rewards was necessary to turn Trish into the lover who would best serve Eve's needs. In the meantime, there was the problem of Trish's sexual frustration and the possibility her sex drive could cause her to do something stupid. The attraction between Trish and Pierre junior became obvious when everyone was back on the boat. Eve decided to discipline her servant, but in a way that would allow the Islanders to have some fun with her at the same time. Once everyone was back on board, Eve ordered Trish to go to the bow of the boat. She had to get on her elbows and knees with her rear facing towards the stern, and would be responsible for "keeping a lookout for rocks and water hazards". To keep her balance, she'd have to grab the edge with her hands and keep her knees spread wide apart. She would have to stay in that position the entire way back: with her anus and vagina lewdly displayed for the benefit of the boat owner and the other four passengers. Of course, during the return journey, Eve took several pictures, including some close-ups of the girl's exposed crotch. Trish held on tight as the water splashed beneath her face and the breeze buffeted her body. She felt like the figurehead on the bow of a ship. She did keep a watch for rocks, just in case there was any truth to what she was being told to do. After a while, staying in that position made her uncomfortable, but she was not distressed or humiliated as she would have been only a few days before. She was a servant, she was Eve's property, and if Eve wanted to force her to expose herself, there was nothing she could do about it. Anyhow, what she was doing was not too different from what she would have done for Pierre junior had she been alone with him. She would have teased him with her body to get him worked up for a "good fuck". When she peeked between her legs, she did notice the three men on the boat staring at her with wide eyes. Eve ordered Trish to sit down when the boat approached the beach. She saw Pierre junior covering his crotch with a bag of fruit, hiding a hard-on, undoubtedly. Good. Eve glanced at her servant's face and noted that she was not teary-eyed or mortified. It was apparent that Trish was becoming used to following her Mistress's orders and that her modesty was disappearing. A slave did not have the right to any modesty. Trish was beginning to accept that part of her life, which was a positive development. ---------- Eve was faced with a dilemma when she and her servant returned to her house. Trish seemed to be adapting very well to her new life, but there was an important problem that needed to be addressed: the servant's longing for sex. Yes, the girl had spent nearly every night with her face between Eve's legs, but that did not satisfy her own sexual urges. Eve had hoped to spend more time with her servant before seducing her. There were a lot of reasons, one of which was her desire to complete her servant's submission before allowing her to have any pleasure. However, the day on the boat made Eve realize that she could not wait much longer. Trish was capable of doing something stupid, for example trying to have sex with the neighborhood teenagers. If such a thing were to happen, Eve would have no choice but to impose a punishment regime, which was something she really did not want to do. Better to take care of the problem sooner than later, even if it disrupted her original plan. Eve brusquely told her servant that she wanted to practice massage techniques, so that night they would be changing places on the massage table. Her plan was to first relax and stimulate Trish on the platform. Then she would sit on the sofa and put the girl over her lap. Trish would be in a submissive position and Eve would spank and fondle her until she climaxed. Eve calculated the idea would allow Trish to have her orgasm while allowing her owner to always be the one in control. Eve started by giving her servant a typical massage. She sensuously caressed the young woman's body, exploring her servant and discovering what aroused her. She spent a very long time fondling the girl's soft bottom, enjoying the feel of the soft mounds of flesh under her strong hands. Eve enjoyed the reversal of roles, as did Trish, who finally was getting a chance to relax. Finally Eve sat on her sofa and ordered her servant to lie across her lap. Trish obeyed, nervously settling herself over her owner's thighs. Her bottom was completely vulnerable. Eve spent several more minutes caressing and fondling Trish's soft backside. She then ordered her ward to spread her legs and relax her bottom. She admired her servant's anus, gently tracing it with her fingertip. "You know that you were a very bad girl...hiding cocaine in here." Eve punctuated her statement by tapping the opening of her slave's bottom-hole. Trish was nervous, wondering where her Mistress was going by reminding her of her crime. "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." "I said: you were a bad girl. Don't you agree?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet. I was a bad girl." "...and what happens to bad girls, Servant Trish?" Trish took a deep breath. She forced herself to give the answer Eve was expecting. "Bad girls get punished, Mistress Bousquet." The policewoman instructed Trish to move forward a bit and tilt her bottom up. Trish obediently spread her legs to better expose herself to her owner. Now her lovely bottom was submissively positioned, with her bottom-cheeks bent and spread. Eve gently massaged Trish's backside, enjoying the sight and feel of her servant's pale skin and soft flesh. So lovely... While Trish had gone over Eve's lap knowing that she was going to receive a spanking, the policewoman had much more in mind. Yes, there would be a spanking, but Eve hoped to use a weakness of her servant's body to teach her an important lesson. She would use the girl's body to control her emotions and force her to completely surrender herself. Eve continued to massage Trish's bottom and thighs, using sensuous touches and light tickling with her fingertips until she noticed a subtle change in the young woman's posture. At first Trish was very tensed up and nervous, but Eve's touches allowed her to get the girl to relax, then finally to enjoy what was happening to her. Trish was very wet, and tilted her bottom up, desperately hoping her owner would slip her fingers between her thighs and touch her... Eve smiled. She had Trish right where she wanted her. She teased her ward's labia with the tip of her index finger as Trish involuntarily tilted her hips even more, hoping that Eve would touch her clitoris. "I'd bet you'd like a nice orgasm right now, Servant Trish..." "I...yes, Mistress Bousquet...please..." "You're going to have to earn that orgasm, Servant Trish. I'm not just going to give it to you. You need to earn it." "Mistress Bousquet...please..." Eve patted Trish's bottom. "You stay in position and behave yourself, and I'll reward you when we're done." "Yes...Please..." With that Eve began slapping Trish's upturned backside. At the beginning she did not spank very hard, just with enough force to put some pleasant heat and sting in the younger woman's bottom. She slapped more quickly than she would have slapped during a real punishment spanking, since her purpose was different from a normal punishment. She wanted Trish to feel sensation in her bottom that came close to, but was not exactly, painful. Trish's vulnerable ass continued to redden under the attention of her policewoman. The mounting heat and stinging in her backside was just enough to enhance her sexual arousal. Every so often the policewoman took a break from the spanking to tease Trish's vulva, by lightly touching her labia or running her fingertip over her vagina. The touches were just enough to torment Trish and keep her state of arousal from diminishing. Eve's goal was to keep her servant as close to climax as possible for as long as possible. As Trish's bottom reddened, Eve began slapping much harder. The painful slaps only added to Trish's feeling of sexual desperation and willingness to do anything to be allowed to climax. Eve now had Trish completely under her control as the heat and stinging became much more intense and erotic. Had Eve started out spanking Trish as hard as she was spanking her now, the girl's sexual arousal would have vanished because of the pain. However, Eve knew how to gradually increase both the pain and the girl's sexual desires. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... After about 15 minutes the spanking was reaching its climax. Eve took longer breaks to continue teasing Trish between her thighs, pleased that her servant was desperately spreading her legs and lewdly exposing herself as her posture silently pleaded the policewoman to satisfy her sexual desires. Trish's desire for an orgasm filled her thoughts and canceled out any hint of dignity or self-control. She wanted that orgasm, and that was all she wanted. Eve's fingertips sensuously explored Trish's vulva, staying in contact with her labia and gently circling her vagina. Trish's body trembled and she moaned with pleasure, as she relished the feel of the older woman's invasion of her most intimate area. Finally Eve's fingertip touched Trish's clitoris. At first the touch was tentative and light, but gradually Eve's fingertip began massaging Trish more seriously, with the intent of finally bringing her to orgasm. The younger woman bit her lip and groaned with delight as Eve's fingertip worked its magic on her body. As the policewoman continued to massage Trish's clitoris with her right hand, she ran her left hand over her back and bottom. Trish climaxed, but Eve was not done with her. She inserted her finger into Trish's vagina, then again explored her labia and clitoris. The second orgasm was so good that she nearly passed out from the pleasure. Trish remained over Eve's lap after she calmed down, too tired to have any desire to get up. The policewoman ran her thumb over Trish's vulva to lubricate it, then touched the girl's bottom-hole several times with her wet thumb to prepare her for the final part of her lesson. Once Eve was satisfied that both her thumb and Trish's sphincter were adequately lubricated, she pushed deep into Trish's bottom-hole while penetrating her vagina with her index finger. Trish, who was just starting to come to her senses, gasped at the policewoman's new intrusion into her body. Eve's thumb and fingertip worked their way in deeper and pressed together inside Trish. The sensation was strange and sinister, but also very erotic. Combined with her sore bottom and exhausted muscles, the firm grip inside Trish's body gave her the feeling that she had completely lost any control over her existence. Eve knew what she was thinking, because the sensation her servant was experiencing was exactly what she wanted her to experience. Trish felt totally helpless, much more so than the previous night when her Mistress pinned her to the bed. She was owned. She was Eve's prized possession...nothing more. "You are mine, Servant Trish. I control your life. Don't ever forget that." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet. I am yours." For the first time Trish actually meant it. She was not just "going along". She knew that she belonged to her Mistress, forever... The Servant Ch. 12 Chapter 12 -- The medical subject Trish spent the following four days helping Flora. She hoped that Pierre junior might be around, but unfortunately he lived in Gannet Cove and only visited his parents on occasion. Just as well...because Trish would have gotten herself in trouble had he been in the house. Flora could tell that Eve's servant was becoming more cooperative and that her attitude had improved. She still walked around with her switch, but had no reason to use it. When she told Trish to do something, the servant complied. Even peeing in the street was not a much of an issue. Each time Flora took Trish to the street to relieve herself, she managed to empty her bladder with no problem. She tried to time her potty breaks to avoid going out when the neighborhood kids were around: that was the only effort at modesty she dared attempt. Anyhow, she needed to be ready for her next trip into the capitol. She knew that she'd have to demonstrate she had gotten over her reluctance to piss in public, which meant peeing into storm drains with people watching. If she proved to her Mistress that she could pee on command, she'd probably get her bathroom privileges back. Trish had her first menstruation on the Island on Monday, the day after the boat trip. The period was yet another humbling experience, because she found out that female servants normally were not issued tampons or pads. She had to wear shower shoes instead of her normal tennis shoes and simply bleed-out while working in Flora's yard. Every so often she rinsed between her legs with the hose. On Wednesday, Flora wanted to buy some fish, which entailed a trip to the fishing village on the beach. Trish followed the retiree across the salt marsh and quietly knelt while Flora haggled and eventually bought several large sea bass. Of course it was Trish's responsibility to carry them back; and also her responsibility to learn how to prepare raw fish for cooking. Forcing the servant to do a particularly disgusting and difficult task was actually a test Flora had set up for her, a test she passed with no problem. Flora was impressed. Eve's girl really was working out. Throughout the week Trish perfected her ability to massage her Mistress. She also spent time massaging Flora and Pierre for practice. Perhaps it was strange having to touch the uncovered bodies of the older couple, but whatever reservation Trish might have had about that was irrelevant. She needed to practice and the older couple wanted massages and she was a servant. It was not her place to question: it was her place to obey. ---------- Eve received a phone call from her friend from the university Wednesday night. With everything else that had happened to her over the past few days, she had forgotten about her Mistress's promise to lend her to the medical instructor as a demonstration prop for his classes. The next day Eve ordered her servant to accompany her to the airport. During the trip Eve explained what was going to happen that day: that Eve's friend would pick her up at the airport and take her to the university. "As for what you'll be doing there, you know as much as I do. They like to use live subjects in class to teach med students how to conduct medical exams and to allow for real-life practices. It won't be anything difficult. In fact, you'll be spending most of your day just sitting around, so look at it as a break. And don't even think about letting me hear that you weren't cooperative." A break. Yeah, right. Some break... Eve's friend was waiting for her. Accompanying him were three medical students. Trish felt intimidated and very embarrassed. She was glad to get on her knees. Oddly enough, she felt safer when kneeling, partly because she could conceal herself a bit and partly because kneeling separated her from everyone who was standing above her. However, because she was to spend the entire day on display, Eve's friend had a request: "I'd like to change her slave-rest position, if that's OK with you. My students are going to want to see her, so it'd be easier for her to always stand with her feet spread and her hands behind her head, if she's not doing anything else. Otherwise we'll have to keep ordering her to stand up." "Did you hear that, Servant Trish? Stand up and do as he says." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Trish stood in the correct position, with her legs spread and her hands behind her head. "Today, instead of kneeling, this will be your position of deference to your superiors. You will address my friend as 'Master Charles'. Until he returns you to the airport, you will follow his orders and his orders only." Eve turned to Charles: "If she is disobedient in any way, or reluctant to do something, I want a full account of the incident so I can deal with her tonight. One thing I don't want - is anyone else punishing her. She shouldn't cause you any trouble, but if she does, just let me know." With that, Eve handed off her servant. Charles stopped an Island taxi and took Trish to the university. The campus was much more crowded than it had been on Sunday. Charles and the servant walked passed hundreds of young adults as they made their way to the School of Medicine. Several students wanted to take pictures of Trish, either by herself or with other people. Charles always granted permission; thus Trish's body was fully documented on yet more cameras and cell phones. Charles stopped to chat with several students and co-workers. Each time her temporary Master quit walking, Trish had to assume her new slave position; standing straight with her legs spread and her hands behind her head. She had to endure being the subject of several conversations and being introduced as the new model for the introductory medical examination course. The instructor and his subject entered the School of Medicine. They walked past several doors before arriving at their destination, an auditorium-style classroom capable of seating 200 students. There was a small stage with a standard medical exam table and a gynecological examination chair. Trish noticed that the exam table had stirrups, and the leg and arm rests of the chair were equipped with restraining straps made from thick leather and sturdy metal buckles. If a subject were uncooperative, she could be immobilized. There were two cameras on the stage: a video camera and a still camera, both of which were mounted on tripods. Charles ordered Trish to stand in front of a light blue background that had lines to measure a subject's height. He positioned the still camera and its tripod to take a series of professional medical portraits of his model. He ordered Trish to pose for eight photos with her hands at her sides: from the front, from the back, from each side, and from 45-degree angles. He ordered the servant to raise her hands above her head and took eight more pictures. He ordered her to stand with her left arm at her side and her right arm sticking straight out and took an additional eight pictures from the different angles. He repeated the eight-picture series with Trish squatting, sitting on a stool, and then sitting on the floor. Finally, he ordered the subject to stand in front of the examination table and put her hands behind her head. Students started coming into the class as Charles was finishing with his photos. He took his place at a lectern and looked through his presentation while the classroom filled. About two-thirds of the students were male and one-third female. Because of the heat in the room, the doors remained open and anyone passing by could look inside. Once the seats were filled, the instructor greeted the group. "Today we will begin our series on the female human body. We will start with the general check-up. Our course will continue with a live demonstration of the female reproductive system and a look at the female's genitalia." Charles ordered Trish to get on the exam table and sit, facing the audience. "We'll start out by doing a general check-up. We'll be taking the patient's temperature, collect specimens, and finally will look her over more thoroughly. We'll check her head to toe: her vitals, her physical fitness, blood pressure, and heartbeat. We'll check her reflexes, eyes, hearing, and then finally look for any lesions, cysts, signs of breast cancer, vaginal infections, polyps, hemorrhoids, yeast...the works." With that the examination began. An assistant turned on the video camera and started filming, careful not to block anyone's view of the examination table. The video was projected onto a screen that had been lowered with Trish had been facing forward. Charles started with a typical medical exam. He ordered the subject to cough, took her pulse and blood pressure, looked down her throat, shined lights into her ears and eyes, and checked her reflexes. He noted the faint scars from her various piercings asked her at length about her medical history. She responded as honestly as she could remember, knowing that she'd face Eve's whip that night if she refused. Charles then told her to lie on her back and checked her digestive system by pressing their fingers into her intestines. He pressed her uterus and commented about her depilation as the camera focused on her bare vulva. Charles moved to checking Trish's breasts and looked for lumps. He moved his fingers in circles around Trish's breasts and lymph nodes, in a serious effort to find any problems. He continued by telling her to get on her knees and elbows on the table. She complied, turning her bottom towards the students and assuming the required position. The instructor ordered her to spread her knees, and arch her back, forcing her to lewdly expose herself to everyone in the room. She felt a gloved hand touch her bottom and a fingertip gently spread Vaseline over her sphincter. Her examiner let her wait a moment before inserting the thermometer. He wanted to allow his patient's anticipation to build before the glass rod made its way inside her. The students were given time to make additional notes in their charts while Trish remained on her elbows and knees and the thermometer stayed in place inside her backside. Everyone was looking at her. Charles, who was having fun embarrassing his friend's slave, decided to prolong her ordeal. "I don't think we got a good reading. Let me shake it down and we'll try again." Again the fingertip gently massaged her sphincter, and again the thermometer made its way inside. She held her position for several minutes before the thermometer slid back out. "Alright, that reading was good. Your temperature's normal, but your heart rate seems a bit high." Trish thought to herself: yeah...my heart rate is high. I wonder why that would be, you perverted fuck. The instructor changed gloves and again lubricated the fingertip. "Next we'll do a rectal exam, and then we'll move the patient to the chair." Charles slid his finger deep inside Trish's bottom and began exploring her insides. The instructor pulled out his finger, but instructed her to stay in position so he could wipe her clean. The gentle touches of the cool wipe cleared away the remnants of her temperature taking and exam. Trish moved to the gynecological chair. She placed her legs in the stirrups and found her body even more exposed than before. Charles buckled the straps to make sure she stayed in place during the demonstration. As she felt the fans blowing warm air against her vagina, Trish looked around and noticed everyone in the room continuing to stare at her. She now had a problem. The extreme exposure and humiliation had aroused her. Her breathing shuddered and was irregular and her entire private area became very wet. "You will notice this subject is sexually aroused. It is more common than people realize and is perfectly natural. We'll take care of it before we continue." Take care of it? Charles ordered Trish to close her eyes. Then he blindfolded her. She heard the footsteps of several people coming close to her. Then, all over her skin she felt the light touches of several sets of fingertips. The touches explored her entire body, seeking her most vulnerable and sensitive areas. She felt the light caresses on her face, her lips, her nipples, her stomach, her legs, and finally her exposed pelvis. The touches were tentative and teasing, leaving her desperate for more. It was obvious that whoever was touching her knew what they were doing and that an orgasm was not far off. Soon she was moaning in desperation as a series of light touches centered on massaging the juices of her arousal. As she came close to climaxing the smell of her orgasm permeated the entire room. A fingertip expertly teased her clitoris and forced her to climax. Perspiration covered her body as she shuddered and moaned from the delicious feeling of all those hands on her body, and especially that one expert hand between her legs that was guiding her through such exquisite joy. There was not a hint of pride or self-control in her as she spread herself desperately wanting that orgasm to continue. The physical sensations she was enjoying filled every thought in her head and momentarily took over her entire world. Finally the spell broke and the orgasm came to an end. Trish remained in her chair, her legs spread wide and her body on display to the camera and everyone in the room. She was exhausted and reeked from sweat and sexual arousal. She felt like she had just had a bizarre dream. For the moment her brain was unable to accept the reality that she had been forced to have an orgasm in front of 200 medical students. Trish's examiner took off her blindfold and went back to work. "OK, everyone, here's where any mystery about what's between the woman's legs stops." Charles changed medical gloves and took his position next to Trish. After measuring her pulse and heartbeat, he began by inspecting the subject's lower abdomen. He noted the scar from her piercing and discussed the strange custom that recently had become popular in the US. The students, especially the women, cringed at the thought of doing something like that to a clitoris. The instructor made another comment about the depilation, but added that the subject did not have any other abnormalities. The final comment that he made was that, from the general appearance of the patient's genitalia, she had been sexually active. Trish's examiner moved to a visual inspection of the soft folds of her vulva and the opening of her vagina, carefully examining for any problems. He calmly separated Trish's labia minora and labia majora to examine the hymen, urethral opening, and opening to her vagina. He noted the size of her clitoris and the development of her labia minora and majora. He made a final comment: "Over-all condition of Servant Trish Bousquet's external vaginal region indicates a previous high level of sexual activity. The patient acknowledges daily sexual contact with multiple male partners, as well as less frequent episodes of self-stimulation via contact between her fingers and her clitoris." "So far, so good. So now you know what I'd be expecting from the external pelvic exam. Now for the internal pelvic exam." Charles snapped his fingers at an intern and pointed at a bowl of warm water containing a speculum. The intern passed the bowl and its scary-looking contents to the instructor, who reached in and took the device. He gently inserted it into Trish and opened it to expose her cervix. He shined a light to illuminate that intimate part of the patient, and instructed the assistant with the video camera to move close for a good shot. Charles continued: "The area is examined for ulcerations, cysts, bleeding, enlargements, or menstrual discharge. The positioning of the cervix is also noted. Now, if we were in a doctor's office, the next step would be to scrape some sample cells with a swab." Charles slowly pulled out the speculum. He checked for any inflammation or other problems and handed the speculum back to his assistant. He took off his gloves and made some notes about the condition of Trish's cervix and further evidence of the subject's frequent sexual activity. Charles put on a new pair of medical gloves and lubricated his fingertips. He inserted two fingers into Trish's vagina and with his other hand palpated and pressed down on her lower abdomen. Trish felt some uncomfortable pressure as Charles searched for her various organs. "OK, now for the fun part." Charles changed gloves yet again, lubricated the fingertips of his right hand, and inserted a finger up Trish's bottom and another into her vagina. Leaving his fingers in place, he turned to his audience: "You will complete the bimanual exam by checking the condition of muscles that separate the vagina and rectum. With the index finger in the vagina and the middle finger in the rectum, you can more accurately feel the posterior surface of the uterus, cervical ligaments, the ovaries, and the side walls of the pelvis. You will note the shape of the rectum as you remove your finger." Charles pulled out his fingers and held up the one that had been in Trish's bottom. He continued: "Feces that adhere to the gloves are examined for mucous or blood, because you're also looking for rectal disorders." Charles finished by casually cleaning his subject's vulva and anus and making some final notes. He unbuckled the straps and ordered her to stand facing the class, her hands behind her head and her feet spread. The operator of the video camera focused on Trish's face and projected her dazed expression onto the screen. "I want to thank my friend, Officer Eve Bousquet, for lending us this servant so we could have today's live demonstration. That's it for today, but remember you'll be tested on this material next Monday. After 4:00 the video and photos from this class will be available on the Department of Medicine website. Make sure you download them for study. Also, if you're interested, there are demonstrations and photos from previous classes uploaded in the archive section. Make sure you study chapters 14 and 18. Most of Monday's exam will be out of those two chapters." Trish remained standing with her hands behind her head and her feet spread apart as the students left the room. Some of the students approached the stage to talk to their professor or to have a closer look at the servant. Several male students took pictures of her with digital cameras and cell phones. A couple of the photographers even went behind to get pictures of her backside. There were conversations, including a couple of comments comparing the American with the demonstration subject for the previous semester's class, who was an Islander. As the professor chatted with his students, Trish mulled over what he had said at the end of his presentation. The entire medical examination was going to be posted on the Internet: both the photos and the video. Not only were 200 students going to download all those pictures, but apparently the university maintained pictures from all medical demonstrations in a permanent archive section. So...the humiliating experience was about to become public domain and remain permanently available for download. Trish suspected that, because the university medical department was a public institution, access to its website and archives was open to anyone, not just university students. The pictures from the medical examination were only a small fraction of the photos that had been taken of Trish's naked body over the past month. She knew that many of those photos already were posted on the Internet. Most certainly Eve's photographer friend in Gannet Cove would have posted high-resolution copies of the figure study series on his professional website. Many other photos taken by passers-by would enter the public domain via blogs and social networks, and from there pass on to the broader web. The Servant Ch. 12 Trish wondered what her Mistress had done with the pictures she had taken of her. The servant had noticed that Eve liked to surf photo-sharing sites and download pictures of naked women. She also maintained a blog, in which she posted pictures of the Island and commented about local customs and politics. Given that Eve was so proud of her purchase and wanted to show her off to the entire Island, it would be logical that she was doing the same on the Internet. Undoubtedly she had posted all those photos on both the blog and the picture-sharing sites, so that her on-line friends could see her "little sex-pot". Trish wondered if her university friends or ex-boyfriends had seen any of the photos. As for her aunt Beatrice, it was certain at the very least she had seen Eve's blog. She hated to imagine her aunt and cousins looking at images of her naked body and her collar; gloating over her predicament. However, she realized there was no point in worrying about the photos and public exposure, because there was nothing she could do about it. Even if the government of Santa Eduviges released her the next day, the damage already was done. There were thousands of photos of Trish Bousquet floating around the Internet; featuring her exposed body in every possible pose and every setting imaginable. ---------- Charles took Trish to the airport a few minutes later. He sat with Eve in the airport café, drinking rum and discussing a couple of former classmates. Trish knelt next to her Mistress. Throughout the conversation the Mistress caressed her servant's shoulders and ran her fingers through her hair. Eve asked how the class went and whether Trish behaved herself. Then she asked some questions about the class and the examination, to which Charles responded: "If you're curious about the class, it's all online. My assistant uploaded all the pictures and video." Charles asked if he could borrow the servant again in a couple of weeks for another class. Of course, Eve told him there was no problem. Charles then mentioned that a professor from the art department wanted to borrow Trish for use as a model in several life-drawing and photography classes. Again, Eve consented. "Just tell him to call me. He'll have to send someone to the airport to pick her up, but I'd be fine with lending her to the Art Department. The only think I'd ask is that he e-mail me copies of any pictures he takes of her." ---------- That night, Trish had to bathe her Mistress and, as usual, massage her before putting her face between her legs and giving her an orgasm. After the round of sex, Eve had Trish kneel and spent a couple of minutes playing with her breasts and pinching her nipples. "You're doing very well, Servant Trish. I think you're adapting just fine. All of my friends tell me the same thing; that you are so sexy and they are all envious. You see...it's not that difficult to make me happy. All you have to do is be obedient. I tell you to do something, and you do it. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." With that, the Mistress told her servant to clean up and go to bed. She then logged onto the Internet and downloaded the entire collection of high-resolution pictures from the medical examination. She re-posted a few of the better images on her blog and provided a link for anyone who was curious to see the others. She posted more of the medical pictures on the photo-sharing sites. She went through several batches of other recently-posted photos of her servant and noted, with deep satisfaction, that photos posted only days before had thousands of hits, hundreds of downloads, and dozens of comments. The Servant Ch. 13 Chapter 13 -- Nature hike The next day, Trish woke up to the pre-dawn crowing of Flora's rooster, as usual. And, as usual, she responded by throwing a mango seed at the bird to shut him up, only to have a near-miss and send him running off and clucking in protest. The rooster had learned to watch out for the daily mango seed and was ready to run as soon as Eve's patio door opened. Trish prepared her Mistress's breakfast and had her uniform ready. After Eve had eaten and dressed, the servant cleaned up the kitchen and dining area. She knelt, waiting for her orders for the day. Eve ordered Trish to stand up and put her hands against the wall. She spent several minutes fondling her servant's bottom and breasts. Trish calmly waited for the policewoman to finish. She had learned that being ordered to assume the search position and submit to being groped was actually an indication her Mistress was in a good mood. Eve left her servant with Flora before going to work. Trish had learned to appreciate being left with the neighbor: it meant that she'd not have to worry about anything apart from the daily chores. Yes, Flora always carried her switch and was quick to use it, but Trish was accustomed to the occasional swipe across the bottom. Anyhow, the retiree only struck if she felt the servant was showing disrespect or moving too slowly. Trish was becoming better at her routine and giving Flora fewer opportunities to "motivate" her. On that day, Trish performed so well that Flora did not strike her a single time. ---------- The following day was Saturday, which meant another day shopping in the capitol. Trish also hoped it would be the day she could earn back her bathroom privileges and stop having to squat in the middle of the street every time she needed to piss. As they wandered about the crowded downtown, Eve spent the morning plying her servant with water and juice, curious to see if she had learned anything from the previous week's "unpleasantness". Fortunately, over the week Trish had resolved her shyness about peeing in public. She had to relieve herself twice and on both occasions she was able to ignore the people watching her as she positioned herself over the storm drain. She released quickly and on cue, which minimized the time she had to spend squatting and drawing attention. As she wiped herself after the second potty break, she could tell that her Mistress was very pleased. Sure enough, upon returning to the house and putting away the week's purchases, Trish knelt while Eve announced that she had earned back her right to use the bathroom. She stuck out her hand for the servant to kiss. Towards sunset, Eve took Trish to the beach. It was late in the day, and very hot, as usual. The policewoman decided to leave her clothing at home and walk through the salt marsh in the nude. Walking around naked was not customary among the Islanders, but the area was isolated and Eve chose a trail rarely used on the weekends. So, for 40 minutes Trish followed her Mistress and studied her bare backside as they made their way to the shore. Eve told her servant to go for a swim in the calm water, and then to walk along the beach. She followed her, carrying a camera and taking pictures. Trish didn't care. The water and warm air felt great on her naked body and she was able to relax and enjoy herself. On their way back, Eve took more pictures of her "little sex-pot", experimenting with contrasting her pale body against the setting sun and tropical twilight. She was very pleased with the artistic quality of some of the images and was looking forward to posting them on the Internet. Trish spent the night bathing, massaging, and giving an orgasm to her Mistress. She was exhausted, but happy. Her bathroom privileges had been given back to her, so life was looking a bit better. ---------- The next day was Sunday and Eve wanted to take her servant to see a new part of the Island. Trish had seen the entire eastern side from the capitol in the north to Gannet Cove in the south, but she had not been anywhere to the west of the airport. Eve wanted to take her to the central part of the Island and photograph her in the Thunder Mountain National Park. Santa Eduviges had been formed by two large volcanoes, one of which was dormant and the other was extinct. The more recently active volcano was called Thunder Mountain and it was surrounded by a national park that occupied over a fourth of the Island. The volcano was one of the most spectacular in the Caribbean, rising from near sea-level to 1,200 meters. Thunder Mountain derived its name not from eruptions, but instead from the rainstorms that frequently started around the summit and subsequently spread out to the rest of the Island. Eve prepared a military-style backpack and filled it with water and other supplies. She covered Trish's upper body with sunscreen and the lower part of her body with insect repellent. She made sure her camera and cell phone were fully charged before taking her servant outside and calling a rickshaw. For the first time since her arrest, Trish was about to do something that she actually expected to enjoy. Yes, she'd have to pose for dozens of high-resolution pictures that were likely to end up on the Internet, but that was nothing new and being photographed no longer bothered her. The two women boarded the Island taxi and headed west. They passed the airport and began climbing the hills leading into the central part of the Island. As they neared their destination, the driver began to worry as he struggled to get his flimsy vehicle to complete the final part of the trek to the small town of Paradise Pass. Paradise Pass was an eco-tourism center and full of foreigners. As was true for the beach resort, the vast majority of the Europeans in the town were Danubians. It was Trish's first chance to get a close look at the people who had kept the Island's economy going for the past five years. There was nothing that particularly distinguished Danubian men or children, but the all women had their hair done up in elaborate braids. The Danubians were clean-cut: no beards, hippie hair, body jewelry, or any tattoos among them. They did not wear torn clothing, nor did they wear any shirts with logos or visible labels. All of the tourists, without exception, were in good physical condition. Trish was surprised that the foreigners were not shocked to see a naked and collared young woman running around in their midst. Later she would learn that Danubians were used to seeing such sights in their own country: convicted criminals in Danubia wore collars and were prohibited from wearing clothing. In fact, the collar Trish was wearing and the technician who put it on were both from Danubia. As they passed through the park entrance, Trish silently wondered if she would have to carry Eve's backpack. It seemed very heavy; full of water, food, and camping gear. Fortunately, Eve considered the hike as part of her physical training and lugging 25 kilos of dead weight up the mountain was part of her fitness program. Also, Eve wanted to take a bunch of pictures of her servant in a natural setting and did not want scrapes or pressure marks from the pack disrupting the smoothness of her pale skin. Even without the backpack, the uphill trail was not easy for Trish. The Mistress plodded along as a steady pace with the servant struggling to keep up with her. Along the way there were numerous stops, because at each picturesque overlook Eve wanted to take pictures. Because she looked forward to the breaks and was grateful for any opportunity to rest, Trish enthusiastically modeled for Eve's camera. The Mistress was glad to see that her servant was cheerful about being photographed, not embarrassed and sullen as she had been a few weeks before. Eve forced the American to drink water and eat fruit to stay hydrated. When her owner gave her a piece of fruit, she had to kneel, wait for it to be placed in her hands, and express her gratitude. There were a couple of times that tourists or Islanders were present, but all she was doing was performing her duties as a servant and had nothing to be ashamed of. Anyhow, the Danubians had comparable customs in their country. The tourists watched Trish with vague curiosity, but did not find what she was doing shocking in the least. As they neared the summit, the volcano trail became a truly special place. At the top of Thunder Mountain there was a huge crater that was filled with a lake and surrounded by unique vegetation. The area around the crater was surrounded by dense forests and rocky outcroppings that had views of large portions of the Island and the sea that lay beyond. Trish forgot about her exposure and enjoyed the feeling of the tropical breeze blowing on her bare skin. The exertion challenged her muscles and her skin was shining with sweat. She looked really good on the path and felt healthier than she had felt in a long time. Eve took a lot of pictures of her in various poses. Several times she handed her camera to a passing Danubian and asked him to take pictures of herself with Trish. Some of the Danubians also wanted pictures of Trish; or of the Mistress and her servant together. Trish posed over and over, not minding having her body on display for the benefit of the tourists' cameras. She knew that many of the pictures would be spread around the Internet, but she didn't care. The lake was cold and clear; perfect for a refreshing swim after a long trek up the trail. There were several small beaches occupied by groups of naked Danubians. Eve walked around to the west side of the crater and found a spot that was deserted. She stripped off her clothing and ordered her servant to accompany her into the refreshing water. Following the swim, the two women ate a late lunch. Eve did not bother to get dressed after her swim. Eve then surprised Trish by taking out a tent from her pack and showing her how to set it up. Trish had been wondering about the return trip, because she knew that it was far too late to make it back to the trailhead at Paradise Pass before nightfall. It turned out returning was not the Mistress's plan: instead she had planned to spend the night on the summit and hike down the following day. Eve expected her nightly massage, as usual. She was exhausted from the hike and her shoulders hurt from hauling the backpack. Trish spread a large towel near the tent and spent the hour after sunset working her owner's muscles and getting her to relax. Eve lay on her back while the servant gave her an orgasm under the stars. Finally she was ready to go to sleep. The mountain summit was chilly, so Eve ordered her servant to get into the sleeping bag with her. Trish fell asleep with Eve's strong arms around her body. There was no escape, but at the same time she realized that, as long as she was obedient, her Mistress would always protect her. The Servant Ch. 14 Chapter 14 -- New Dixie The next morning Eve had another surprise for her servant. They would not hike back to Paradise Pass, but instead hike directly west. They would spend the entire morning descending a back trail and emerge on the western side of the Island to visit Eve's hometown of New Dixie. As she followed her Mistress down the trail, Trish could see that the west side of the Island was very different from the east side. Instead of flat plantations and wide beaches, the western district was rugged, hilly, and separated from the ocean by steep cliffs. After six hours of hiking through forested, hilly terrain, Eve and her servant crossed through a banana plantation and several fruit farms. Finally they reached their destination, the small town where Eve spent the earlier part of her childhood. New Dixie was distinct from every other town in Santa Eduviges. The entire population was black instead of mixed-race Creole. The oldest houses and shopping area reminded Trish of the historical districts she had seen in Southern towns in the US. There was a reason for both the architecture and the ethnic make-up of New Dixie: the settlement was founded during the Civil War by former US slaves. From 1865 until the end of Reconstruction, several additional families from Louisiana immigrated to Santa Eduviges and settled in New Dixie. From the beginning, one of the most important family names in the town had been the Bousquets, originally from a plantation in Baton Rouge. Eve's parents no longer lived in New Dixie. When she was 10, her father got a job in the government and decided to move the family to the capitol. However, Eve's older brother had returned to New Dixie and was living with his wife in the house that used to be owned by Eve's grandparents. Eve called him on her cell phone and let him know she was in town. Trish overheard: "My servant? Oh yes, she's with me. So...you're curious to see her, yes?" Eve knew a lot of the older residents in the town and on the way to her brother's house stopped to chat with various family friends. Of course, an important purpose of her trip was to show off her servant and brag about her. The story of how she bought Trish at auction and outwitted a man with considerably more money entered into most of her conversations. Had Trish possessed any intelligence at all, Eve would have suspected she was playing dumb about not understanding the importance of New Dixie and history of Eve's ancestors. However, the girl was a total ignoramus. She honestly had no clue about the history of her family or their connection with Eve's family. Perhaps she was vaguely curious about the Southern appearance of New Dixie, but she was not putting all those clues together or making the connections. Fortunately, Trish was not too dim-witted to understand that if she was with her Mistress in her hometown, she needed to be on her best behavior. Her relationship with Eve was improving and she wanted to keep it that way. So, the servant knelt humbly and quietly, stood up when ordered, smiled for pictures, and did not flinch when curious fingers touched and explored her hairless pussy. Before going to her sibling's place, Eve wanted to make sure her servant was presentable. Obviously, after a half-day of exhaustive hiking, she was not. It would not do to have a servant use her brother's shower, but she did not want Trish standing in the yard trying to clean herself with a garden hose either. Fortunately, the fire station had an outdoor shower. When Eve explained the situation, the fire-fighters were more than happy to oblige. The policewoman handed her servant some soap and shampoo, while the fire-fighters brought cameras and a video recorder. Eve made her servant wait while the men brought out chairs. As soon as everyone was seated and had their cameras ready, Eve gave her servant the go-ahead to get cleaned up. Trish was so hot and so much anticipating having the chance to wash off that she was able to ignore her audience. Showering in front of spectators was not nearly as bad as peeing in front of spectators, nor as bad as being spanked on the street. Anyhow, she reminded herself that everything in her life revolved around keeping her Mistress happy. She faced her viewers while she shampooed her hair, and turned her back when she had to bend over to soap her feet and legs. After she was clean and had toweled-off, Eve told her to kneel so she could comb her hair. Finally, the show ended and the firefighters thanked their visitor for the photo session. Trish's naked body was documented by several hundred additional photos, most of which would be on the Internet within 24 hours. Trish followed her Mistress two blocks and arrived at a Victorian-style house. Eve's brother, sister, and a couple of kids were waiting. She introduced her brother as Master Jules, and her sister-in-law as Mistress Annette. When Eve introduced her servant, the entire family's eyes scanned her exposed body. Trish knelt as usual, but then her Mistress told her to stand up and put her hands behind her head. She complied, assuming the display posture so Eve's relatives could have a proper look at her. She had to give the usual explanation about her depilation treatments. She noticed that Eve's brother wanted to touch her, but with his wife standing next to him, he decided against it. Eve and her brother sat in the living room to get caught up on each other's news. Annette went into the kitchen, but Eve called out to her. "Annette! Don't forget about my servant. You can just relax. Have her take care of dinner." So...in spite of being exhausted from the walk, Servant Trish had to go into the kitchen and set up for dinner. Annette stayed with her, making sure she set the table properly and had the meal dished out. When Trish was finished and the food was on the table, Annette took the servant to the back porch and ordered her to kneel: "So... little Bourbon princess...how does this make you feel? Kinda sucks when the shoe's on the other foot, doesn't it?" "I...I don't know Mistress...I...feel happy serving Mistress Bousquet." "You'd better feel happy, serving her. You'd better realize how lucky you are. She's letting you off way too easy." Trish was terrified and taken aback by the Islander's hostility. She didn't understand what she possibly could have done wrong. Considering the relatively trivial crime she had committed, she didn't think she was being let off easy at all. Annette tightened her lips and continued: "...and you'd better hope I never get my hands on you. If I do, you'll learn that payback really is a bitch. Now get up, little slave wench, and serve your superiors." "Yes, Mistress Annette." Trish was terrified, especially at the thought of ever being alone with Eve's evil sister. What on earth could have angered her so much? During the dinner conversation Trish picked up more clues. As she served food and refilled drinks she overheard Jules and Eve: "...so you're serious, your servant doesn't have a clue who we are?" "No...no clue at all. I've tried dropping a few hints: nothing. She honestly doesn't know a thing. She doesn't even know about the Civil War, and I'm serious about that. So, she certainly doesn't know where her fortune came from. Not a clue." "And you're not planning to tell her?" "I've thought about it, but I guess I won't. What would be the point? That's not why I bought her." Annette interjected: "The point would be to let that little bitch know that she deserves everything that's happening to her. To let her know that we don't forget. To let her know that her family needs to pay for what they did to us." "Annette...please. What difference does it make now? You're talking about stuff that happened 150 years ago. She had nothing to do with it. The only reason the Bousquet plantation matters at all is that it allows me to not feel guilty about keeping her. If anyone ever tries to tell me that keeping her is morally wrong, I can argue that her people did the exact same thing to us." Annette opened her mouth to speak, but Eve held up her hand and cut her off. "But you have to understand, that's not the reason I bought her. It makes the situation more interesting, yes. But in my household, our family history is irrelevant. I bought the American because I wanted her. I didn't buy her to avenge anyone. I bought her because of my own needs." "...and those needs are the same reason you got divorced, I'd imagine..." "Yes." "So...that's why you're spoiling her so much. You don't want to hurt your little love-pet. I'll tell you...If I ever get my hands on her, the whole west side of the Island would hear her screaming, day and night." "Why? Why would you do that? What did she ever to do you?" "Her family did a lot to us!" "Yes, they did...150 years ago. Why is that important now? What did Trish Bousquet do to you?" Annette threw her napkin down in disgust, angry that her sister did not see history in the same way she saw it. Trish was very frightened by what she had just overheard. All those clues that Eve had dropped over the last several weeks fell into place now that she had heard the story more clearly from her owner's sister. Finally, her limited intellect was able to grasp why she and Eve Bousquet had the same last name. Her more immediate problem was Annette. As she cringed under the hostile stares of the vengeful Islander, Trish was very happy whenever she got the chance to kneel next to her owner. She knew that Eve would protect her... Fortunately, the unpleasantness in Jules Bousquet's house was short-lived. Eve wanted to go out and tour the town. Jules accompanied his sister and her servant. Annette declined to go with them, much to Trish's relief. The residents stared at the naked American, partly because she was pleasant to look at and partly because New Dixie did not see many foreigners. There were stray Danubian hikers who came down the wrong trail and were too tired to go back up, but that was about it. In spite of the stares, Trish was not worried. As long as she stayed close to her Mistress, she knew nothing would happen to her. Eve wanted pictures of herself with her servant in front of various town landmarks: including the mayor's office, the shopping district, two churches, the local cemetery, the town dance hall, her elementary school, and a couple of old houses. Jules took several pictures in front of each landmark. He even got permission to take his sister and her servant inside the mayor's office and photograph the two women there. The pictures in New Dixie were important for Eve. Jules took shots of his sister and her servant in every spot Eve remembered when she was a little kid. She had been a lonely child and "queer" by the standards of an intolerant town. It was not until much later that she understood what was wrong with her. Now, she had returned and for the first time, was back in town with a companion. She wanted to transform her memories of all those places to something more pleasant and attempt to bring closure to portions of her unhappy youth. Eve made sure Jules took a multitude of high-quality pictures at each spot. From each location Eve would choose the best images and post them to her blog and the photo-sharing sites. ---------- That night Eve and her servant endured a long rickshaw ride to policewoman's house, which was on totally the opposite side of the Island from New Dixie. Because it was nighttime, the rickshaw driver was not about to risk climbing the unlit curvy road to Paradise Pass. The detour meant going all the way around to the north end of the Island, passing through the capitol, and then taking the main road south to the airport. In the darkness Trish felt her Mistress's hand caressing her thigh and her fingers teasing her between her legs. As best she could in the cramped vehicle, she spread her thighs so her owner could have better access. Eve spent the entire trip fondling her servant while casually chatting with the driver about road conditions and possible hurricanes. By the time they got home, Trish was aroused and desperate for sex. Eve ordered her to put her hands against the wall and remain in that position, no matter what. Trish would get her orgasm, but she'd have to remain in that submissive posture for her Mistress to oblige her. Eve ran her fingers over her servant's body, concentrating on her bottom and inner thighs. Trish gasped with delight. She felt her owner's strong hands on her breasts and her lips on her shoulders. Finally, just as Trish felt she couldn't take any more, her owner's hand slipped down her stomach and over her bare vulva. And then...at last, Eve's finger gently brushed up against her clit. Eve slipped her other hand down Trish's bottom and fondled her from front and back. Trish moaned with delight as she climaxed and sweat poured down her body. It was so good that she had a hard time remaining standing. Eve took Trish in her arms and held her. "You are such a naughty little sex-pot, aren't you?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." That night, Trish was very happy to bathe her Mistress and massage her shoulders and breasts. She was tired and totally satisfied for the night, but now Eve was ready for a good round of sex. When she got out of the bathtub, Eve decided that she wanted to experiment with some foreplay before having the servant bring her to orgasm. She stacked some pillows on her bed and lay over them to expose her bottom. She ordered Trish to kiss her backside and work her way towards her bottom-hole. Trish did as she was instructed, kissing and caressing Eve's bottom. The policewoman had an attractive backside: with large full buns that were firm from exercise and training. Trish found her Mistress's bottom very sexy. She gently placed her tongue against her owner's anus and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure. She then kissed the area around Eve's bottom-hole before putting her tongue against the opening a second time. Eve spread her legs and pushed her backside up to allow her servant to move her tongue over the entire area between her legs. Trish continued to kiss and lick her owner's bottom, but she also moved one of her hands under her vulva. She moved a finger in and out of Eve's very wet pussy. She teased her clit. Eve pushed up again, getting on her elbows and knees and spreading herself very wide. The sight of her in that submissive position fascinated her servant, but Trish decided it was time to bring her to orgasm. She gently rubbed the woman's clit and continued to lick her bottom-hole. Eve groaned and started to climax. She wanted the moment to last and held back as long as she could. However, Trish continued working her from both the front and the back. Eve couldn't wait any longer. The orgasm was a very strong one, accompanied with a series and moans and gasps. After she finished, Eve was completely satisfied and relaxed. Above all, she was very pleased with her servant. As much as her Mistress tried to hide it, Trish could tell that she had done very well that evening. As Eve held her servant in her arms and caressed her body, Trish realized something important: that at times she had the power to determine when her Mistress would have an orgasm. Eve needed her for sexual fulfillment, and was becoming increasingly dependent on the servant for her physical needs and happiness. It meant that Trish was not completely helpless after-all; that at times she could have a small amount of control in the relationship with her owner. The Servant Ch. 15 Chapter 15 – Carnival Dancer Trish spent the next two weeks uneventfully. She worked in the two yards picking fruit and doing housework during the days and pleasing her Mistress at night. She learned that, in spite of her domineering personality, Eve was fairly pleasant most of the time. All Trish had to do was obey whatever order she was given, and she was able to avoid "unpleasantness". Not once during the second month did Eve feel that she needed to punish her servant. Two weekends after the hiking trip to Thunder Mountain, Officer Eve Bousquet took her servant to the last major town of the Island that she had not yet seen. The place was called Safe Harbor and it was the oldest settlement on Santa Eduviges, founded in 1573 by the Spanish and re-named in 1799 by the British. Among other tourist attractions, Safe Harbor boasted a restored 19th Century schooner and a French fort. As soon as Trish saw Safe Harbor, she knew that she would need to pose for another series of photos. However, Eve did not have her camera and did not plan to take any pictures herself. Instead she would lend her servant to a local commercial photographer who wanted to do a two-day photo shoot. Trish knelt as her Mistress introduced her, and commanded that she address the photographer as "Master Luis". Luis first took Trish into the French fort and put wrist and leg irons on her. The servant posed in a series of dungeon settings and had to endure being chained in several prison cells. Still wearing her cuffs, Trish had to pose on the fortress wall, with her hands cuffed behind her back and then with her hands un-cuffed, but the irons still on. She sat on cannons and looked out guard towers. Then she was locked in a pillory and later chained to a whipping post. Throughout the photo-shoot in the fort, tourists and museum workers followed the model and took numerous pictures of their own. Trish left the cuffs behind at the fort when Luis took her to the schooner. Trish posed all over the ship. The photographer even got permission for her to climb the ropes and pose in the crow's nest. When it was time for Trish to pose in the town's main plaza, Trish and the photographer came across a group of teenagers sitting near the church and listening to salsa. Trish liked salsa music and was a good dancer. It had been two months since she had the chance to dance, so her body involuntarily began moving with the music. Eve had an idea for the photo shoot. Why not have Trish dance with the teenagers? Obviously, they were happy to oblige and enjoy the chance to dance with an attractive naked American. Trish was in a good mood, was enjoying the music, and was enjoying the chance to show off. So, for nearly an hour, she danced tirelessly as the teenagers took turns as dance partners. A crowd gathered and started clapping with the music. Trish danced with some of the spectators as well. Yes, it turned out that Eve's "little sex-pot" had become quite the exhibitionist and dance star. The photographer took pictures of Trish throughout the day, finishing with a series during sunset on a beach near Safe Harbor. She and Eve spent the night at the photographer's house and were up before dawn for a photo-shoot during sunrise. Shortly before lunch, the photographer finished with additional pictures around Safe Harbor. ---------- During lunch, Eve and Luis talked about the photos and where he wanted to post them. He assured Trish's owner that he would put the entire collection of pictures on a thumb-drive, even the images he considered rejects and out-takes. The two Islanders discussed various photo-sharing websites and the photographer alerted Eve to a popular site she didn't know about. While Trish knelt and ate her usual plate of leftovers, the conversation drifted to the shoot at the plaza and the servant's excellent dancing skills. "I have a question, Eve. I'm really impressed by how well your servant dances, and also by how long she can go without getting tired. I think she'd make a great dancer for Carnival. I was wondering if you had any thoughts about registering her." "No, not really. I don't want her wearing any outfits, not even for Carnival. One of the things I plan to do with her is keep her naked for the rest of her life." "That's not a problem, keeping her naked. You don't know about the changes the Carnival directors approved last month?" "No, like what?" "They're getting rid of the clothing requirement. Carnival dancers can either go in costume, or they can be nude." Eve's attention perked up. She'd love to have Trish dance in the Carnival if she could remain nude. Luis continued: "I'm bringing this up because Safe Harbor tasked me with designing a float for this year's parade. I have an idea in mind, but to make it the way I want, I'd like to have a naked dancer." "So, what's your idea?" "The float is going to represent the Night Spirits. It will have three levels. The bottom level will have dancers dressed like the dead, you know, funeral clothes and skeleton masks. The next level will be animals, like bats and owls. The top section would be the moon, riding above everything else, pure and unadorned. I'd been thinking about trying to recruit a Danubian tourist to represent the moon. Those women don't mind running around naked in public, but the problem is they're terrible dancers. A Danubian couldn't dance to Latin music to save her life." "So my servant would be the only naked person on the float?" "Yes, because I want her to stand out. The float will be all dark colors, except the moon section, which will be much brighter." Eve smiled and caressed her servant's shoulder. "Well, you've just recruited your moon dancer." ---------- For the next two weeks, Servant Trish was relieved of her normal duties in Flora's yard. Instead, she traveled with her Mistress to the airport, where one of Luis's assistants was on-hand to take her to Safe Harbor. She reported to a warehouse that Luis had rented for float construction and dance rehearsals. For seven hours each day she practiced with 19 Islanders and one girl from Panama, evenly divided between men and women. There would be a total of 21 dancers on the float: 12 on the lower level, eight on the second level, and one on the top. On the first day Trish knelt while Luis introduced her to the other dancers. They stared at her with blatant curiosity. She was extremely nervous, but when Luis ordered the DJ of the project to play a salsa tune, Trish started dancing to prove herself. After just two songs she had impressed the others: for an American she danced extremely well. Trish wondered if any of her companions would resent her being the featured dancer at the top of the float. Under ordinary circumstances the answer would have been "yes", but none of the others had any desire to spend an entire evening dancing naked on top of a well-lit moving platform. The Carnival would be broadcast on live television and the parade route would be crowded with tens of thousands of spectators. So...the answer was no. No one had any desire to change places with the American servant. The music consisted mostly of Spanish salsa, with some Samba tunes mixed in. Reggatone, which had become the favored genre of music elsewhere in the Caribbean, was not yet popular in Santa Eduviges. Trish's talent for dancing to salsa allowed her to quickly pick up Samba. She was able to detach herself from her surroundings and move with the music. There were times she was able to totally forget where she was and what had become of her life. ---------- As Luis's dancers synchronized their moves and learned the order of the music planned for Carnival, the float itself took shape. The lower section consisted of dark vegetation, the upper part was surrounded with paper Mache to resemble clouds, and the top platform had a large translucent cloth circle to portray moon. The platform where Trish would dance was two meters in diameter, plenty of room for her to move about. The lighting was designed to illuminate both the circle and the dancer, but the circle was designed to absorb some of the lighting to direct the spectators' eyes to the uncovered figure of the performer. Carnival in Santa Eduviges lasted two days and mostly was celebrated in the capitol. Unfortunately, Trish had to miss most of the first day of festivities, because Luis wanted the dancers to be well-rested and stretched out before the nighttime parade. Shortly before sunset the group (with the notable exception of the moon dancer) put on their outfits and boarded a bus for the capitol. Luis already had taken care of most of the preparations, so there was not much for the performers to do apart from having one last drink of water, climb into their positions, and wait for the float to start moving. When Trish took her position on her platform, she was four meters above the level of the street. She was very, very visible, especially when the lights illuminating her body were turned on. She was not embarrassed in the least. She felt very aroused and excited. Above all, she was eager to perform well so her Mistress would be proud of her. The parade slowly moved along the main boulevard of the Island's capitol. The music played and the spectators cheered and applauded. Cameras were flashing everywhere. Trish did the one thing she knew how to do well: dance. She lost herself in the music. She quit thinking about anything other than the rhythm. She needed to focus on the beat, move her body, and ignore everything else. She was energetic and cheerful, and moved around her platform with confidence. She turned continuously; making sure everyone from both sides of the street had a chance to see her bare figure from all angles. Eve was not able to enjoy the sight of her servant's performance, because she had to march in formation with other police officers. However, the Island's main television station had posted several camera crews along the parade route, so the Mistress would be able to see the videos later. Luis frenetically ran about the float, directing the driver and constantly taking pictures of his project and the performers. Trish never felt sexier in her life. She knew that she looked really good. Her body was toned, evenly tanned, and glistening with sweat. Dancing was the only thing she was good at and could be proud of, so she was determined to show off her talent to the entire Island. After five hours of non-stop dancing, Trish was exhausted, but she was determined not to disappoint anyone watching her along the final part of the parade. Besides, the final part was the most important, the part where the parade dancers had one final chance to make a good impression on the audience and the judges. Trish was indeed making an impression on the Island. The TV camera crews had bunched up along the end of the parade to thoroughly document Luis's nighttime spirits float and its lovely star dancer. Trish noticed a spectators' platform full of important-looking men as the float neared the finish-line for the parade. One of the dignitaries was Generalissimo Renaud, the country's leader. She knew that it was especially important to make a good impression on the Generalissimo, so she used up her remaining energy sensuously performing while the float slowly passed the dignitaries. She tried to stay focused on nothing but the music's beat, but she noticed the Generalissimo staring at her the entire time she was within his sight. Many of the officials with him were enthusiastically clapping. The float turned off the main boulevard just a couple of blocks past the Generalissimo's platform. The area was unlit and there were no spectators, so it was obvious the parade was over. Luis signaled the DJ to cut off the music. The dancers collapsed on the platform, totally worn out after six hours of non-stop movement. They did not get down, however, because the float still needed to move away from the parade route to allow other floats to get off the main road. Instead, they shared bottles of water as they rode several blocks towards a parking lot where the floats would be dismantled. It was an anticlimactic end to the parade, but it came none too soon for the participants. When the float finally stopped and Trish's companions helped her get down, it was obvious that Luis and everyone else participating in his float project was very pleased with her performance. Eve was present as well, smartly dressed in her best uniform. When Trish knelt to greet her Mistress, the policewoman smiled and stroked her cheek. ---------- Luis and his crew spent the remaining hours of the night getting cleaned up and resting for a few hours. At noon on the following day the entire group went to the National Stadium to attend the closing ceremony for Carnival. They sat with the crews from the competing floats and watched a police parade and some folkloric dancers. Then the Generalissimo took the microphone and announced the winner for the float competition: the delegation from Safe Harbor. After Luis accepted the year's trophy and gave a brief speech thanking both his dancers and the people who had built his float, the entire crew posed for numerous pictures. Luis, proudly posing with his trophy, had his star dancer stand next to him. The Generalissimo called Luis and Trish to the dignitaries' platform to allow them to pose with him. Trish knelt while the Generalissimo shook Luis's hand. Then, it became obvious why Luis's float had won: the Generalissimo ordered Trish to stand up so he could have several pictures of her taken with him alone. The other officials also wanted pictures of themselves with Trish. The servant obliged, knowing better than to do anything to irritate the Island's top leaders. Finally, the Generalissimo called Officer Eve Bousquet to the platform and publicly congratulated her for her servant's performance. The final set of pictures consisted of the Generalissmo and Officer Bousquet standing together in full uniform, while the naked servant knelt next to her Mistress. ---------- Images of Trish's Carnival performance were published in various newspapers and magazines throughout the Caribbean. The Island's television channel repeatedly played video of the servant with the Generalissimo over the following week. Several videos of Safe Harbor's moon dancer were posted on-line and Internet became sensations. Journalists and private citizens competed with each other to see who could post the most, and the best, pictures of Trish in the photo-sharing sites. As Eve read the comments to her blog postings and browsed the Internet, she realized that her goal of exposing her servant and sharing her with the world had been realized. She also knew that she had some real bragging rights. Yes...you know that famous naked dancer from this year's Carnival? I'm her owner... The Servant Ch. 16 Chapter 16 – Birthday Girl The following weekend, Eve decided to take her servant to the beach. It was late afternoon and viciously hot, so the policewoman decided to leave her clothes at home. Like Trish, she would enjoy the late afternoon heat in the nude. The two women walked along the isolated path to get to the shore. Eve told Trish to walk ahead of her so she could take a series of pictures of her naked body. The Mistress also wanted pictures of herself, so every so often she handed the camera to her ward and posed. Finally the Mistress and her servant made it to the beach. They walked away from the village and found a spot that was totally isolated. They dropped their towels and food under a tree and headed towards the water. For a long time they swam, enjoying the delicious feel of the warm Caribbean. When they got out, Eve surprised Trish by taking her in her arms. She passionately kissed her servant. "Do you know, Servant Trish, what day it is today?" Trish honestly did not know what day it was. She had stopped keeping track of time, because her life of servitude did not demand paying attention to the calendar. "No, Mistress Bousquet. I...I'm not really sure..." "It's your birthday, you naughty little sex-pot. You're 25. This is the first birthday you've spent with me." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve lowered her hands and began rubbing her servant's bottom. She kissed Trish again. Without saying anything more, she grabbed the American's hand and led her to the tree. She sat down on a towel and ordered the servant to lie across her lap. She spent a very long time caressing Trish's "bum" and gently running her fingertips between her bottom-cheeks. "So today my naughty girl is 25." "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Eve gently patted the girl's vulnerable bottom. Trish knew what was about to happen. 25 hard swats would hurt, but it was the only appropriate way to celebrate her birthday. Anyhow, she wanted the spanking. She wanted to surrender herself and know that her Mistress was in control. She wanted to feel the hot slaps on her naughty backside. "Tell me, Servant Trish, what do naughty girls deserve on their birthday?" "We need to be spanked, Mistress Bousquet. We need to be spanked on the bare ass." "Yes...on the bare ass...a special spanking to celebrate the birthday of a special girl. I'm going to give you 25 hard slaps on each side. A double dose...because you are such a naughty sex-pot. That's what you really need. Don't you agree, Servant Trish?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet." Trish properly repositioned herself over her Mistress's thighs for her punishment. She turned her bottom up and spread her legs slightly. Eve gently rubbed her ward's bottom in a circular motion, enjoying the feel of her shapely bum and soft skin. Every so often Eve ran her fingertips past the tender skin surrounding her servant's lovely bottom-hole. Trish sighed with anticipation, partly because she was very nervous. She had not enjoyed the punishments she had endured at the airport from Eve's whip or in the yard from Flora's switch, but that was because those punishments were so vicious. She hoped a birthday spanking would be different. Maybe it would bring the servant and her Mistress closer together. Eve did not bother to tell her servant to keep count of the slaps. She would slap hard on each side, take time to caress the girl's reddening bottom, and slap again. The slaps were mercilessly given by a woman who had spent her life exercising. In spite of the increasing pain, Trish remained peacefully draped over Eve's lap. She kept her bottom tilted upwards and her legs spread. As best she could, she tried keep her bottom relaxed and not to flinch. After each set of slaps, Eve rewarded her servant by slipping her fingers between her legs. The final part of the spanking was intense. Eve was slapping very hard, and her servant was torn between becoming aroused and starting to cry. The mounting pain scared her, but the feeling of being over her owner's lap and being under her control and protection filled her sexual being with complete satisfaction. The experience was intense and frightening, but she was where she wanted to be, her body and soul surrendered to the control of her Mistress. Finally, Eve reached the 25th double-slap. She kept her servant over her lap and spent several minutes caressing the American's swollen bottom and admiring her red skin. She grabbed her servant's wrists and rolled her on her back, but then ordered her to get on her stomach. Eve settled next to her, covering her warm "bum" with kisses. She ordered Trish to get on her elbows and knees and position herself so she was spread and lewdly exposed. As her Mistress stimulated her bottom-hole and teased her clitoris, Trish groaned with delight. She experienced the best orgasm of her life. Her orgasm was total and overwhelming, almost scary in its intensity. She felt true happiness. She realized that Eve was right about her. I really am a little sex-pot. I'm my Mistress's little sex-pot. She understands me. She knew all along what I need... Eve took her servant in her arms and cuddled her. Both women knew that night something significant had happened: that their relationship had changed. For the first time since coming to the Island, Trish was actually happy. No longer did she want to escape. She wanted to stay right where she was...forever. It was her destiny to wear Eve's collar and spend the rest of her life serving her. It was her destiny to worry about the happiness of her owner and to always put her needs above her own. Above all, her purpose was to be humble and obedient. She knew that her life would be difficult. There would be endless days of hard work. She knew there also would be times she would not live up to her obligations and she would have to endure harsh punishment on her naked bottom. Her Mistress would spank her, or perhaps even have to whip her. That was fine with Trish. Pain would be a natural part of her life. The right combination of love, pleasure, pain, and obedience would keep her focused on what really mattered. Trish was not a reflective person, but that afternoon she saw herself clearly. For six years she had lived only for her various whims and vices. There was no greater purpose for her existence and in those six years she had accomplished absolutely nothing. She now understood why. She understood that she was never meant to be free. She was not capable of exercising free will with any responsibility at all. She was rash, wasteful, stupid, self-destructive, and always acted on impulse. She couldn't help it; that's just the way she was. Eve had forced her see that part of herself, understand it, and come to terms with it. She would always be grateful to her Mistress for that insight into her own character. "I belong to Mistress Bousquet." Yes, Trish belonged to another person. So, her existence did indeed have a purpose. In an isolated spot on a forgotten island in the middle of the Caribbean, she had found her place in the world, a spot where she truly belonged. She belonged with her Mistress, spending her days serving her and doing everything she could to make her life more pleasant. Trish wanted to show her owner that she was happy with her position in life and to demonstrate her submission. Finally, she thought of a way to express her feelings. "Mistress Bousquet, I request permission to speak." "Yes, Servant Trish? "Mistress Bousquet, I want to thank you...you know...for buying me." "Yes, my love. I had to buy you. I knew that you were created for me, yes?" "Yes, Mistress Bousquet. I was created for you." Eve kissed her servant and caressed her chest for a few minutes. Then it was time to go home. Trish followed her Mistress across the salt marsh in the gathering twilight. Her bottom still felt sore from the spanking as she walked. She was glad about that: she felt that it was only proper that her 25th birthday, the first birthday of many she would spend on the Island, should be celebrated with a nice spanking from her loving owner. Trish Bousquet was nothing more than her Mistress's prized possession, and for the rest of her life that was all she would ever be. However, at the cost of her freedom, she had found a person who loved her and would always take care of her. At that moment, she was the happiest woman on Santa Eduviges.