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3
Chapter 4 � 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 thick 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.
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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 and 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 the steps 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.
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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 1,900
Florins before bidders started dropping out. When her price went up to
2,200 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�
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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.
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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.
�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.
Chapter 5
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