Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. The Servant Copyright 2011 by Edward -ECEC's Erotic Fiction - /~caligula97030/ (warnings: public nudity, sex between adults, corporal punishment, medical, femdom, FF, lesbian, humiliation, drug use, language, NIP, ENF) Chapter 8 - 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 coworkers 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 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 whipmarks 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.