Chapter 5: Eve's house

Eve's next concern was to get her new servant back to her house and give her something to eat. She knew that Trish had not yet eaten that day and would be famished, but there was nothing she could do about that for the time being. Collared servants had a lot of restrictions placed on them; one of those being that they could not be seen eating in a public location in the capitol.

Eve stopped an island taxi, which was a strange-looking contraption for anyone who had not been to the Caribbean. It was a small open vehicle that barely fit two passengers, with the driver sitting up front. Instead of four wheels, it only had three. It was called a "rickshaw" and had been made in India.

The driver's eyes roamed over the servant's naked body before her mistress ordered her to get in. Eve joined Trish and told the man to drive towards the airport.

The trip was the first opportunity Trish had to see any of Santa Eduviges Island. The rickshaw made its way through the market district and went past blocks of single-story residences. Most of the buildings were made from cinderblocks and had laminated roofs. Mixed in with the houses were small stores and an occasional school.

The majority of the people running around were dressed in loose-fitting white shirts and cargo shorts. Many of the younger women were wearing short dresses made of very light fabric. It was apparent that the only concern of the people on the street was comfort. There was not much worry about modesty, even for the Caribbean. Trish noticed something else; that a lot of the women were wearing gold jewelry. The jewelry, and the lack of bars on the windows of the houses, indicated there must not be much crime on Santa Eduviges.

The rickshaw crossed a small river, passed through several kilometers of palm plantations and banana groves, and finally came up to the airport. Eve ordered the driver to turn left and take the road towards the beach. The rickshaw passed through a small town and crossed a large grove of papaya plants. On the other side of the papaya farm there was a small group of cement houses that were within sight of the ocean. One of those houses belonged to Eve Bousquet.

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. Just looking at Trish excited her, and now she had the American all to herself.

However, Eve forced herself to remember that Trish was more than just a toy. She was a person who was scared, bruised, exhausted, and above everything else, hungry and in need of a bath. It was only fair that her physical needs had to be addressed first. She ordered Trish to wash her hands, then to go into the refrigerator and cut herself some melon. There was a pot of rice with chicken that Eve had prepared in the morning, in anticipation of having a second person in her household to feed that afternoon. Eve ordered Trish to take some, and also a glass of orange juice. Trying to maintain a façade of severity, she ordered her servant to sit on the back porch and have her meal.

Trish devoured her food with trembling hands. It was the first decent meal she had eaten in a week. Once she had finished, she cleaned her plate in the kitchen, and then, not knowing what else to do, knelt in front of her Mistress. The next priority was getting cleaned up. Eve ordered Trish to go into the bathroom, brush her teeth, and start a bath. Trish did as she was told.

As the water was running, she looked at herself in the mirror, for the first time seeing herself as a slave instead of an heiress. Her hair was tangled and her face was gaunt, reflecting four days spent in a dark cell and not having enough to eat. Her eyes were both tired and frightened. Her chest had been written on with a large "#4", the last name "Bousquet", "sold", and her sale price "3,500 Fl", with a large black marker. She cringed with humiliation at the thought that several hundred people had seen her walking around, not just cuffed and naked, but with her auction information scrawled all over her chest, as though she were a walking receipt. No wonder everyone was staring at her. She had become nothing more than recently purchased property, and that was how an entire city saw her.

Above everything else was the collar. It was made from hardened steel and had a ring in the front. She ran her fingers along the groves and the latch. She took a deep breath. That thing really was permanent. There was no way she'd be able to get it off. It would be part her identity for the rest of her life.

The servant tried to be thorough getting cleaned up, especially in her effort to get all that writing scrubbed off her chest. However, she knew better than to dawdle too long in the bathroom. Her Mistress was waiting.

Eve's next priority was limiting the possibility Trish might try to escape. She had to go to work five days out of the week, which meant that her servant would be alone for hours at a time; plenty of opportunity for her to do something stupid and get in trouble. The way to handle that was very simple; introduce Trish around the neighborhood, make sure everyone knew to whom she belonged, and ask the neighbors to keep an eye on her when her owner was at work.

Trish was totally exhausted, but felt much better after having eaten and getting cleaned up. She dutifully followed her owner around the cluster of houses. Trish learned that her Mistress was on very good terms with most of the neighbors. At some of her friends' houses Eve did not even bother to knock, but instead walked around the house to the back of the property and called out the neighbor's name. At each stop Trish had to go to her knees and remain silent while her Mistress casually bragged about her new purchase. All of the neighbors congratulated her, in the same way they would have congratulated her on getting a good deal on a fancy car.

Almost all of Eve's female neighbors were doing chores on their back porches. On Santa Eduviges the back porch of a house was actually a work area for both laundry and cooking. Ovens and stoves were almost always kept outdoors to prevent them from heating the inside of the house. Washing machines were not yet common on the island, so most clothing had to be washed in a large specially designed sink. Therefore, between cooking and laundry, women spent their days on their porches instead of inside their houses.

Trish was surprised that most of the women working on their porches were topless, wearing nothing but an apron, or completely naked. Since gaining independence, the citizens of Santa Eduviges always had been more accepting of nudity than most other islands. The recent flood of tourists visiting from the European country of Danubia and their demand for nude beaches reinforced the island's relaxed ideas about modesty and wearing only what was necessary. Seeing the female neighbors in various states of undress on their back porches helped put Trish at ease about her own situation, slightly.