The Servant Copyright 2011 by Edward -EC- EC's Erotic Fiction - /~caligula97030/ (warnings: public nudity, sex between adults, corporal punishment, medical, femdom, FF, lesbian, humiliation, drug use, language, NIP, ENF) 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.” “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.