Eve knew that Trish Bousquet would have even more reason to be afraid the following Wednesday. Along with all other prisoners that had been arrested and convicted over the previous week, she would be collared and put up for auction as a servant. Servant auctions were a weekly event on the island. There were no jails, but every convicted criminal was put up for sale to whoever wanted to buy a "servant", which in reality was a simple slave.The slave-sale program had been instituted under the government that preceded Generalissimo Renaud. It was popular among the public because it was an excellent source of revenue for the National Police and a great way to dispose of prisoners without having to execute them. Of course, the majority of the persons offered for sale were men, who usually were purchased to perform manual labor. However, about a fourth of the convicts auctioned were women and girls. On the average, female servants fetched higher prices than the men, depending on their age,
"Yes, Officer Bousquet."After her subordinate left, Eve left the holding cell area and reported to the chamber of the trial judge. After having seen the frightened captive for a second time she was more determined than ever to buy her. Eve was on good terms with the judge, so she wanted to see what support she could get from him in her effort to purchase a servant. At the very least she hoped to get his official approval.The judge's legal assistant accompanied the cop into the sentencing chamber. She stood at attention until he ordered her to relax and explain the purpose of her visit. After exchanging a few comments about the airport and the damaged plane that was still stuck next to the terminal, Officer Bousquet nervously got to the point:"Your honor, will the American cocaine courier still be put up for sale this week?""Yes Officer.""I've been thinking. With your permission, I'd like to place a bid on her.""You want to buy that prisoner?""I believe so, Your honor. I've want
Trish spent the four longest days of her life in the holding cell. During that time, no one spoke to her. Her initial terror faded into indescribable boredom. She never could sleep for more than a few minutes at a time on the dirty floor. Her bones ached from the cement and her muscles were twitchy from inactivity. She could sit, or lie on her back, or curl up and cry. She tried pacing, but the cell was so small that she could not move more than four steps in any direction. She did not have the opportunity to bathe or comb her hair. She became a truly pitiable sight: smelly, her body covered with grime, her hair disheveled, and dark circles under her eyes from fatigue.The only event each day to break up the monotony was the visit from Officer Bousquet and the delivery of three pieces of fruit and a loaf of bread. By Tuesday Trish desperately looked forward to the visit. She was eager to please the cop, because she knew that the food deliveries could stop at any time. She did exactly
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 buyin
"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
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
"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 Eu
The house was typical for the houses of Santa Eduviges; a single-story white cinderblock structure with a re-enforced laminated roof, designed to withstand both heat and hurricanes. The property was large enough to support several fruit trees in the back. In the front there was a huge mango tree that shaded part of the house and was shared with a neighbor. In the following weeks Trish would learn to hate that mango tree. One of her duties would be to harvest ripe mangos and make sure all the mangos that had fallen were picked up, cleaned, and bagged for a vendor who came by every couple of days to take fruit to the market.Eve struggled to control her excitement. She now had, in her possession, a woman with whom she could do whatever she wanted. She wanted to run her hands all over her servant's body ... to kiss her ... to make her follow command after command ... to have her face buried between her legs. Yes, her dream had finally been realized, with a woman that she truly wanted. Ju