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Chapter
2 � 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 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."
