Chapter 3: Eve Bousquet's Hope

The rest of the afternoon was anti-climactic for the airport police. The other passengers made it through the facility's security with no problems. The airline already had a replacement aircraft on the way, so there was nothing for anyone to do apart from waiting until the island's unexpected guests could be flown out.

Officer Eve Bousquet looked over the arrest photos of her American namesake. Even though she was just looking at photos and not the detainee in person, the police woman's feelings of sexual desire returned full-force. She felt a pleasant burning between her legs as she replayed the images of Trish bent over the table. She longed to caress Trish' frightened face, and run her fingers over the prisoner's bald pussy.

It had been a long time since Eve Bousquet had felt such attraction for anyone. The last time had been four years ago, when she was married. Yes, she was married to a man that almost any woman on the island would desire, but she had married mainly to please her parents, not because she had any love for him whatsoever. No ... the person she so badly wanted was her husband's younger sister. She spent three years of marriage wracked with guilt ... pretending to love her partner in marriage but in reality fantasizing over her sister-in-law. Every day she saw the young woman, and every day she could only think about how much she wanted her. However, Eve never dared say anything, because the people of Santa Eduviges still had very strong opinions against same-sex relationships.

Eve Bousquet finally couldn't live with her lies any longer. She couldn't tell the truth, but she couldn't keep making love to her husband while seeing the face of his sister in her fantasies. She had to get away from both of them to keep her sanity. Fortunately, Eve's husband, who was getting tired of his wife's lackluster behavior in bed, did not object when she moved out.

Officer Bousquet had given up on the hope that she could ever be sexually fulfilled. She knew what her problem was, but there was not a soul with whom she could share her heavy psychological burden. She already was estranged from her parents over the divorce, so she dared not tell them the real reason she could not stay married. If she dared tell any co-workers, she knew she'd be fired and possibly expelled from the island. Then, with no work, no home, and no family, what would she do?

Eve Bousquet's thoughts returned to her American namesake. In spite of the rough treatment she had inflicted on the tourist earlier in the afternoon, the officer started to feel sorry for her. Undoubtedly at that moment the offender was sitting in that dark holding cell, terrified by what had been done to her.

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, appearance, and the length of their sentences.

At first it would seem that Trish, a 24-year-old white American, would fetch a premium price, but Eve Bousquet knew that might not be the case, depending on who wanted to bid that week. A woman that was 24 years old already was considered past her prime by Island standards. It was clear she was not a virgin, another factor that would lower her price. The holes in her skin from the piercings and her past history of drug use would further lower her value in the eyes of most prospective bidders.

Finally, there was the life sentence for cocaine trafficking. Most men who wanted a female for sex preferred purchasing a girl with a 10 or 15-year sentence. Once the sentenced ended, she'd be set free and there was no further financial obligation on the part of her master. Many men would be glad to have Trish now, when she was 24, but at age 54 she would still be collared and would still have to be properly cared for by her owner. Purchasing Trish involved a lifetime of commitment, not just 10 or 15 years of fun.

That night, Eve lay awake in her bedroom. As always, in the darkness she was naked. She had slept that way since her childhood, as had nearly every other resident of Santa Eduviges Island. The heat and humidity made wearing any clothing to bed impractical, so it was the custom of the Islanders, regardless of whether they were rich or poor, to completely undress if they were in their houses after sunset.

The police officer spent a long time masturbating as she thought about the American. The spoiled young foreigner, with her pale skin and hairless pussy, continued to fascinate her. As the long lonely hours of the night went by, she wanted Trish more and more. She realized that she did not want to give up control of her. She wanted to have the American to herself ... to ... own her ... and...

Suddenly Eve sat up. Own Trish Bousquet. Yes ... it was possible ... a long shot ... but maybe she could indeed buy Trish. A tantalizing thought, really. Why not? The American was going to be put up for sale next Wednesday ... and maybe ... just maybe ... the officer could somehow gather enough money to place the winning bid.

Eve was exhausted the next morning, following a restless night with absolutely no sleep. She went to the airport and spent an uneventful morning on the job. During her lunch break she and her medical assistant got on two police motor scooters and drove past several palm plantations and banana farms to the island's capitol. On the city streets the women dodged buses and bicyclists as they made their way to the court house.

The cop first wanted to check the holding cells to make sure Trish was still in custody. She'd have her assistant measure her neck and then take the measurement to the sentencing office so the American could be fitted with a collar. She peeked into holding cell # 6 and observed the prisoner lying in a fetal position with her back to the door. The whip-marks from the previous day's interrogation still were clearly visible on the young woman's bottom. They had swollen and Trish did not want to put any weight on the welts, which was why she was lying on her side instead of sitting. Every so often her body shook slightly, as though she were crying.

The two officials entered the cell. Trish immediately cowered in the corner. She was dizzy from not having eaten and terrified that she was going to be flogged. Officer Bousquet yelled at the prisoner to get into a kneeling position. The prisoner complied, but began to cry. The medical assistant ignored the detainee's distress and casually wrapped a tape measure around her neck. She took the measurement again to be sure before writing the figure on a notepad. She expected to take the paper to the sentencing office, but her boss told her to hand over the notepad and return to the airport.

"I have some other matters to take care of, so I'll take her collar size in for you."

"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 wanted a collared criminal for a while, and I think she'd do better under me than under anyone else. I'm confident I can work with her and make her into a good servant. Anyhow, I'm sure it would be an interesting challenge."

The judge smiled slightly, wondering what the policewoman's real motive was for wanting to buy the American. However, he liked her. She was a good cop, never drank or got rowdy, was never excessively rough on prisoners, was honest, and didn't do anything to upset civilians. The National Police needed more officers like the one standing in front of him, so the judge was determined to help her as much as he could. Besides, it was very likely she was right about the American; that she'd be much better off being owned by her than being owned by anyone else. Yes, he would do what he could to assist the officer's plan to purchase the prisoner.

"Very well, Officer. You have my approval. I'll put you on the list of bidders. If you want the girl badly enough, I'll give you a double discount: the police officer's discount and the public official's discount. How much have you saved up?"

"I think I can pay 1,500 Florins."