Chapter 2: The holding cell

The metal detector went off when she tried to go through screening. The airport employee called over the tough-looking female officer, the one who shared Trish' last name. The island cop's eyes scanned Trish with a strange expression; curiosity mixed with impatience and a hint of contempt.

The cop grabbed Trish by the shoulders and forced her to walk through the machine. When it beeped, Officer Bousquet ordered Trish to take off her belt and shoes. Trish went through the metal detector only to have the machine beep again. There were several attempts to pass her through the machine, each of which resulted in a beep and an order to remove an item from her body. First her jewelry, then the stud in her eyebrow. The officer patted Trish on the hips and thighs, found nothing, and sent her through again. No good, the machine still beeped.

"Unbutton your blouse."

"What?"

"You will unbutton your blouse and open it."

"In the airport? No! Fuck no!"

"You will unbutton your blouse and open it. I order you."

"Fuck you! I'm not unbuttoning my fucking blouse for you!"

Before Trish realized what was happening, the cop grabbed her right arm, twisted it behind her back, cuffed her hand, then cuffed her other hand. With no further words, Officer Bousquet immobilized Trish with a painful grip on her neck and forced her to walk out a side door and into cinderblock building.

Two female cops and a woman in a medical smock were waiting inside the second building. The moment Officer Bousquet and her captive entered the room, the other three snapped to attention. With a quick nod, the officer ordered her two subordinates to grab Trish' arms. Now that the captive was immobilized, it was time to teach the arrogant tourist a little about island respect.

The officer fiercely slapped Trish across the face. She hit her so hard that the prisoner was stunned for a few seconds. Blood dripped out of her nose.

Officer Bousquet pinched the prisoner's chin with a powerful grip of her thumb and forefinger and forced her to look her in the eye.

"That was for 'fuck you'. On this island you will not address a police officer in such a manner."

Trish was so stunned and terrified that she could not speak. No one had ever hit her before. The officer ordered one of the assistants to unlock the cuffs restraining the prisoner's hands. Trish immediately held her throbbing cheek, but Officer Bousquet tapped her chest.

"Now, will you unbutton your blouse, or do you wish to be struck again?"

Her hands trembled as she opened her blouse. The officer flicked a piece of jewelry that she was wearing on her belly button. She directed her next order to the woman in the medical smock

"Take that off."

With a quick snip from a pair of sturdy medical scissors the assistant cut the ring in Trish' stomach. She carefully worked it out of the captive's skin and handed it to the cop, who tossed it to the side of the room.

One of the assistants brought a metal detector wand and handed it to Officer Bousquet. When the rod passed over Trish' chest, it beeped again. The officer ordered Trish to take off both her blouse and her bra. The burning ache in the American's cheek ensured that she would obey.

Once Trish was naked from the waist up, the officers saw why the metal detector had alerted. Trish was wearing nipple rings. The three cops and their assistant, who had never seen anything like that before, flinched in disgust.

"You will remove those sick things from yourself. And if you enjoy hurting ... we are experts, you know ... experts. We can make you suffer..."

"I ... officer ... I can't ... they're kinda ... permanent."

"No ... not permanent at all."

The medical assistant stepped forward and cut the two nipple rings and removed them. Trish cringed ... because her nipples were not the only part of her body where she still had jewelry. Officer Bousquet waved her metal wand yet again, and as soon as the device moved over the captive's crotch, it went off.

The two subordinates continued to tightly hold the prisoner while Officer Bousquet jerked her skirt and panties to the floor. Trish shook with terror as the cop studied her pussy, which was completely hairless from depilation treatments. Fascinated ... the island woman ran her hand over the smooth skin.

Then she noticed that Trish's stomach was bloated. Hmm ... interesting. She ran her hand over the captive's abdomen and pressed down. Trish grunted from pain. The young woman's stomach was hard. The whole thing now looked very suspicious. The officer suspected she knew what it was.

However, she wanted to know why that metal detector kept going off before pursuing anything else. She pinched Trish' inner thigh and ordered her to spread her feet. Her heart pounding from terror and her face flushed with shame, Trish complied, clumsily moving her feet apart. The cop crouched and spread the captive's pussy lips. OK ... so there was the answer ... the crazy girl had a ring on her clit!

Officer Bousquet ordered her subordinates to force the prisoner to bend backwards over a table, while the woman in the medical smock cut off the last of the offending jewelry.

The cop waved the wand yet again to assure herself that there was no other metal in weird places. Then she ordered the assistants to flip Trish over on her stomach. The women clamped down hard on her arms while the medical assistant changed surgical gloves. Trish saw the policewoman grab something off the wall.

It was a whip. It was about two feet long with a six-inch handle and three 18-inch leather tails. It was a frightening-looking object, especially for a prisoner who was helplessly bent over a table in an interrogation room full of cruel cops. Officer Bousquet cracked the whip on the table and showed it to her captive to let her know there would be no resistance ... or else.

As she lay bent over the table and the medical assistant lubricated her bottom-hole, Trish understood that she already was in serious trouble, and it was about to get much worse. The moment that woman's finger went up into her bottom, Trish would have a lot more to worry about besides simply disrespecting a Caribbean Island police officer in a sub-standard airport.

With her whip ready to strike at the smallest hint of resistance, the officer watched with fascination as her assistant pushed apart the prisoner's bottom-cheeks.

Officer Bousquet struggled to maintain a cold professional demeanor. Against her wishes, she began to find the young prisoner extremely attractive. There was something intensely erotic about Trish' white skin and hairless body, especially given that she was being held down and was totally helpless. The police woman resisted the urge to run her fingertips over the American's bald vulva and smooth bottom. She pushed aside her budding sexual interest in the captive and limited herself to warning her to not dare move during the examination ... or else...

Unfortunately, Trish couldn't help herself. She knew that there was no way the cops would not discover what she had in her stomach, but she struggled anyway, moving from side to side to keep the medical assistant from getting her finger into her bottom. Officer Bousquet nodded at her subordinate to get out of the way.

CRACK ... CRACK!!!

Trish screamed as the pain from the two whip strokes seared into her backside. She couldn't believe how much it hurt. The scream faded into terrified sobs.

The officer and medical assistant watched as six reddish welts rose up on the prisoner's tender skin. Both women noted that yes indeed ... white skin really marks nicely. The contrast between the reddening welts and the pale unmarked flesh that surrounded them highlighted the girl's total helplessness and vulnerability.

Watching the prisoner's pale skin and reddening welts proved too much for Officer Bousquet. The cop no longer could resist her desire to run her hand over her prisoner's bottom, touching the soft skin and raised whip marks. She was totally fascinated with her captive, to the point of ignoring the curious looks she was getting from her three subordinates. She felt the urge to gently kiss the welts, then put her face between...

The cop snapped out of her fantasy, embarrassed at having such thoughts towards a foreign prisoner. She resumed her cold, authoritative voice:

"Now you have felt the whip, Trish Bousquet. You will feel it again and again until you cooperate. You belong to the National Police of Santa Eduviges now. Whatever is your stomach also belongs to us. So you will submit and you will share. You will submit and share, either before I whip you, or after I whip you. That choice is yours. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?"

Still crying, Trish forced herself to nod. The officer tightened her lips and laid another vicious blow into the foreigner's helpless bottom. As soon as the captive's scream died down the officer continued:

"You will show me proper respect, Trish Bousquet. You will not nod when I ask you a question. You will address me as Officer Bousquet. That should be easy for you, because you will notice that we have the same last name. Interesting, is that not?"

After a moment of silence, during which the only sound in the room was the quiet sobbing of the prisoner, the officer twisted backwards and there was another vicious CRACK!!!

"I asked you a question, Trish Bousquet, and you will answer. Don't you find it interesting that we have the same last name?"

"I ... I ... ohhhhhhh ... I ... yes, Officer Bousquet ... that's interesting."

"Good girl. Now maybe we have an understanding. I will ask the questions. You will answer the questions. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?"

"I ... I ... Oooooohooooo ... yes, Officer."

"Now, another simple tasking. You have something hidden inside of you. I want to extract it and find out what it is. You will cooperate. Simple and easy for both of us. Yes?"

CRACK!!!

"Aieeeeeee! OW! Please ... I can't..."

"Then you will cooperate."

Trish cried, but she quit moving. She was defeated. There was no point in trying to put off the inevitable: they were going to find the cocaine and that was the end of it. She hated to think of the hassle this would cause her trust fund manager. She knew that eventually she'd get out of it ... but it might be several days ... or even a couple of weeks ... and who knew what would happen in the meantime?

The prisoner winced as a rough finger worked its way up her bottom. A couple of seconds later the medical assistant triumphantly extracted a bluish grape-sized oval and showed it to Officer Bousquet. She heard the cop's voice:

"Very good, Intern Bruneau. See how many more she's got."

For the next several minutes Trish winced as the medical assistant dug around her intestines, in search of bluish ovals. After extracting 12 more she commented: