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."

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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.

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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.