Palau Palsu Love For Sale

Palau Palsu: Love For Sale

© 2021 Javahead. All rights reserved. The author asserts his right to be identified as the author of this story. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review. If you see this story on any website other than Literotica, it's been ripped off without the author's permission.

Author's Note: This story started out with a fairly simple premise -- my version of something like eroticstoryspinner's "Penal Slaves" stories, which appear to be set in an alternate-history version of the modern US, one where it's accepted and normal that criminal sentences entail not just imprisonment but sexual slavery.

A big part of the appeal of these stories, for me, is the fun house mirror aspect -- it

is

accepted and normal to everyone involved, from the judicial system and police to the prisoners themselves and society at large, and that matter-of-fact acceptance is a constant low-key reminder that Things Are Different Here. At the same time, everything else in that setting is

so

similar to our own that it's hard to see how and why things are so different -- no real explanation is given, it just

is

. How did we get there?

I wanted to explore that aspect, in a setting outside the US. So: 'Palau Palsu'. And had a very simple idea for the first story set there: how would man raised in (more or less) our current society handle it if his foreign-born fiance returns to her home country and commits a crime there?

Along the way, the idea mutated and grew, and I realized the story I wanted to tell was considerably different than the original, rather straightforward premise, and bigger. And considerably kinkier (well, this

is

Literotica, after all). Not to mention exceedingly hard to classify into a single neat category.

Me? I think of it as an

extremely

oddball love story, but it could plausibly go into half the categories that Literotica offers -- though many are relatively minor components, it's got elements of: Anal, First Time, NonConsent/Reluctance, Exhibitionist & Voyeur, Interracial Love, Loving Wives, Romance, BDSM, Erotic Couplings, Fetish, Group Sex, Lesbian Sex, and Mature. I don't

think

I missed anything. Probably. Fortunately, there was an easy out: even after ruthless pruning of scenes and side plots, at over 77,000 words the story fit neatly into Novels and Novellas.

Welcome to Palau Palsu. I enjoyed creating it. I hope you enjoy it, too.

Javahead

Palau Palsu: Love for Sale

Chapter 1

"Your prison system sounds like a throwback to the past. Forced labor. Almost slavery."

"Oh? And the US system is so much better? We have a lower percentage of our people in prison, a lower recidivism rate, and a much lower cost per prisoner. What's wrong with making prisoners work to support themselves? Even if they have to work harder than they like, why should they live without working? The people outside prison paying taxes certainly don't -- some of the poorest even sign an indenture for a few years to build a nest egg. We just make prisoners do the same."

Lena got impassioned sometimes when she was talking about her country. I think part of it was defensive; she's very proud of Palau Palsu and was offended to learn that most people she encountered -- those that had heard of it at all -- thought of it as a primitive backwater.

That's how we'd met. Even if we were on the same campus, in the normal run of things we'd never have had reason to know each other -- it's not as if Engineering graduate students and Poly Sci undergrads share a lot of classes. I was a good six years older, to boot -- I'd done an enlisted tour in the Army to help finance college.

But I'd been short-cutting across campus and overheard an attractive woman telling -- lecturing, really -- a handful of people about her country. It sounded interesting. That, and I was intrigued by the intensity of the woman telling the story. So I joined the group listening -- it was obvious that she was very proud of her country and rather appalled at how little most Americans seemed to know about it.

When she challenged us to tell what we knew, I'd done better than most: I'd remembered that Palau Palsu was an island, but had thought it was part of Malaysia. She'd reluctantly admitted that was a "reasonable guess" -- it had once been a British protectorate, after all, a semi-independent part of the British Straits Settlements-- but like Brunei and Singapore, it had gone its own way rather than becoming part of Malaysia.

I'll admit that asking her to tell me more over coffee was because I was intrigued by her looks and accent rather than a desire to learn more about her country. OK, mostly her looks; she seemed too coolly self-assured to be called "cute", but she had a nice figure and her elegantly sculpted Asian features were coolly lovely. I couldn't place her accent at all; it was closest to what I've heard called "mid-Atlantic", but there were hints of something else.

If the price of learning more about Lena Tan was encouraging her to teach me about her country, I was quite willing to pay it. I think she knew what I was doing, but she seemed willing to go along with my ploy. Maybe because despite any ulterior motives I really was interested in what she had to say, and asked questions that showed I'd actually been listening.

There was a clutter of coffee cups on the table by the time we finished, and she was willing to exchange contact information and agree to meet me for coffee again the next day. And again a couple of days later. Then a day after that. We did talk about Palau Palsu, but we spent time learning about each other, too. Somehow, without any clear transition, we realized we were dating. And, soon thereafter, lovers.

That last came as a surprise to both of us. For one thing, she trusted me; even before we'd started dating, she'd been comfortable visiting my off-campus apartment to spend time together. I wanted her. A lot. More than any other woman I'd ever dated. But neither of us was sure how far we dared take things, and there was no way I was going to try pushing her further than she was willing to go.

So it wasn't at all unusual for her to come to my apartment after a dinner date to watch a movie. It was a cool night -- rather than turn the heat up, she'd snuggled up against me under a blanket. Our first kiss was almost accidental -- she'd turned her head to say something, and somehow our lips met and our tongues were dueling. Neither of us pulled back until we were short of breath.

We caught our breaths. Neither of us spoke, but our second kiss was even better than the first.

Somehow, I remained in control. Just. My voice was a low growl as I warned her: "I want you, Lena. A lot. If you don't ask me to take you home now, I'll do something about it."

She smiled. "Why don't you?" She was still smiling as I led her to the bedroom.

Lena usually dressed fairly conservatively, downplaying her figure. I'd even wondered if she was embarrassed by her body, but she seemed quite comfortable undressing for me. A smile transformed her usual coolly reserved expression into one of eager anticipation. I liked the change.

Lena wasn't a virgin, but she wasn't very experienced either. Or used to foreplay: she actually squeaked with surprise when I moved to go down on her, but she was

very

enthusiastic about it once I got started.

And just as enthusiastic, a bit later, when she helped me work my larger-than-average cock inside her tight little muff. Somehow, despite the stimulation, I was able to get her off a second time before I reached my own peak.

Inexperienced or not, Lena was the most responsive lover I'd ever had. As reserved as she was, and as focused on her goals, I'd never expected our relationship to get this far. I'd been happy spending time with her just because I enjoyed her company. Sharing my bed with her, and finding how compatible we were, was a total surprise.

I just wished that we could have a future together.

We knew it couldn't last; we were both due to graduate in a few months. I intended to join a friend's start-up and stay in the Bay Area, but Lena was already planning her triumphant return to Palau Palsu. She missed her home, and her parents had ambitious plans for her. Lena's father was fairly high in the government, the minister of something-or-other, and she'd start as his special assistant once she got back. It was obvious that Lena idolized him, too; her major in Political Science had been chosen because she'd hoped to follow his path into government service.

There was no way I could compete with all that; staying together after graduation wasn't going to happen. But that didn't mean we couldn't spend time together until then.

I enjoyed Lena's company quite a bit. Not just the sex, but everything about her. Hidden behind her air of cool detachment there was a warm, affectionate, and rather playful woman. Not many people got past that outer shell, but it was worth the effort -- the real Lena was a lot of fun to spend time with.

She was a complex person, an odd blend of traveled sophisticate and naive innocent. She'd visited many countries growing up, but at the same time, her upbringing had been rather sheltered. There were often gaps in her practical knowledge of how the world worked -- sometimes, she managed to say things that put both feet in her mouth. Fortunately, she had a keen sense of humor -- she could laugh at herself, and move on. I liked that.

She could be amazingly patient dealing with people and opinions she disagreed with, too. The Political Science department at a California school? Not exactly a bastion of conservative thought, or likely to be a hotbed of enthusiasm for a government headed by a hereditary monarch, but she held her own. As long as disagreements were abstract, or couched in generalities, she was happy to debate issues. She could even, occasionally, be convinced to change her opinion, or at worst agree to disagree.

But

specific

criticism of her country, fair or unfair?

That

could be counted on to upset her. At first, I'd suspected she was a bit of a careerist, and as a future member of her government took even well-justified criticism personally. Fortunately, I soon realized the truth: she was a patriotic idealist with justified pride in her country's achievements. Fair criticism troubled her -- what could they do better? Unfair criticism just infuriated her. In either case, whenever something got her upset I could count on getting an earful about it. I did quite a lot of reading trying to understand the issues well enough to follow along.

Honestly, I didn't think she needed to be so defensive; overall, Palau Palsu had many reasons to be proud of itself. After Singapore and Brunei, they have what's probably the most successful economy in the region. Plus an effective constitutional monarchy, an efficient (and proudly honest) civil government, decent infrastructure, and a well-run legal system based on the British model.

International criticism seemed to focus primarily on the presence of heavily-regulated legal prostitution, and their very no-nonsense prisons.

I wasn't certain they deserved criticism for legal prostitution -- after all, it's also legal in many Western countries, and illegal-in-name-only in their closest neighbors. What surprised me was that Lena was willing to argue -- convincingly -- that they handled it far better than we did in the US.

And she started with an attack. "How would you feel if you learned that your sister or daughter, was hooking on weekends? Or that your mother or grandmother had when they were younger?"

"Umm ..."

"Exactly. You'd be upset. Embarrassed. Ashamed. You'd want to hide it if you could." She paused, then pointed a finger at me. "But the common people at home wouldn't; they might be a little unhappy, but that's about it. Being a whore's regarded as very low-status, not something you'd brag about, but sometimes a better choice than the alternatives. Like a kid in the US working the late-night shift at a convenience store; at worst, like working as a dancer at a topless bar." That last scored -- a couple of her classmates were currently doing just that.

I looked skeptical. She poked her finger again. "Americans are hypocrites. I've looked at the sociology research; did you know that somewhere between one in ten and one in a dozen adult women here have sold sex at some time in their lives? And a lot more American men have bought it. The percentage of women is about the same in Palau Palsu. But there instead of being illegal and dangerous, it's legal and a lot safer for the women and their clients."

I couldn't argue with "legal and safer" -- I agreed with her. Hell, I was one of those "American men"; it didn't seem to bother her to know I'd paid for it a few times back when I was stationed overseas, but she'd rightly call me a hypocrite if I argued morals. But -- "One in ten? Really?"

She looked amused. "Yup. I checked. That's the best estimate I've seen for the US -- some estimates are higher." She shrugged. "There, it's easier -- we have registration records going back over 70 years. Back then, women just got a simple tattoo, but they added registration numbers about a decade later."

I held up a hand. "Wait, tattoos? What?" I was boggling a little.

Lena nodded. "Tattoos. A little one, on the inside left thigh. By now, it's traditional. It may be why we're more realistic than Americans -- too many moms and grandmothers have one. Women can't hide their past from their lovers the way they can here."

My mouth hanging open but she kept on talking. "So their boyfriends and husbands know. Their doctors. The other women in their family, and their neighbors, probably -- except in the cities, people still swim nude. Maybe it was originally intended to shame the women, but except among the well-to-do families like mine, it's too common to have any real stigma. I've heard some men

look

for a tattoo -- they claim that experienced women make better wives."

I found my voice. "That's ... a very different attitude than I grew up with. Maybe healthier."

Lena nodded in agreement. "It embarrasses a few people, mostly the ones who believe we need to be more like the rest of the world. But I think our way is better."

She leaned forward and lowered her voice enough I had to strain to hear her. "My family has a holiday villa in the country. I grew up playing with the village children whenever we visited. That's how one of my best friends in the village is paying for school. She wanted to be a nurse, but didn't have the money -- her family just barely gets by. So while she's attending nursing school in the capital she works in a brothel a couple of nights a week." Lena sighed. "I'm sorry she has to do it, but I think I might make the same choice in her position."

"Would you really?" It was hard, but I managed to keep the shock from my voice.

She may have heard it anyway. Lena gave a rueful smile. "I don't know. It's not something I'd do if I had a better choice! But if I had no other options ... maybe. Probably. I'm just glad I'm unlikely to ever be in that sort of situation. Do you think I'm an awful person?" She sounded worried.

I didn't need to think about the last. "No, you're not. I admire your honesty. Though I hope you never need to choose for real."

She smiled as she patted my hand. "Me, too! And ... thank you for not being too shocked."

I gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm trying not to be. But you've given me a lot to think about. Do you mind if I check your figures?"

"I'll be disappointed if you don't!"

So I did some research, and she was right: according to everything I could find, Palau Palsu probably has a lower percentage of working prostitutes than the US, or its neighbors like Thailand, Malaysia, and the Philippines.

Their system really is that simple: prostitutes have to register, pay a small fee, and show up for regular health checks. In return, as long as their registration is current, they are legally protected, just like any other worker.

The places they work are also regulated, abuses draw jail time, and ones that allow unregistered workers are heavily fined. To my surprise, the government operates some of the most well-known establishments -- that and the registration fees cover all the system's costs.

How did I feel about it? I wasn't entirely certain. Despite the controversy, the statistics show Palau Palsu has a far lower rate of STD s and human trafficking violations than its neighbors. I couldn't see that as anything but a good thing. So I just let the matter drop.

Anyway, the real controversy centers around their prison system. It's been modernized over the years, but there's still more focus on "punishment" and "restitution" than "reform."

There's a

lot

of criticism of their practice of linking terms of imprisonment for severe offenses with caning, but that has a long history: like their neighbors Singapore and Malaysia, they get that from British law, back when the Brits were still running the Straits Settlements. Palau Palsu can even claim to be more up-to-date on sexual discrimination: they don't limit caning to men only, though I'm sure that female prisoners would happily forgo the honor.

Beyond that, the length of criminal sentences closely follows international norms. Compared to their neighbors, their prison conditions are actually rather good -- clean, not overly crowded, decent medical care.

I rather admired their mandatory work requirement: except for violent criminals and the physically incapable, prisoners were expected to work. Hard. Prisoners worked in government offices, were hired out to private firms, or assigned to public-works projects where their labor could offset the cost to clothe, feed, and house them. Prisoners even got a little bit of the money earned put aside in a savings account for their release.

College graduates and skilled workers might be given jobs that used their skills and training. For the unskilled or unlucky, it was usually something unpleasant and tiring, under close supervision. But prisoners were expected to work wherever they were assigned. The closest they came to parole was if an outside employer was willing to pay to have a prisoner exclusively assigned to work for them for the remainder of their sentence -- effectively, it moved them from the prison system to indentured servitude. Which, much to my surprise, was internationally accepted -- with legal monitoring, adults could voluntarily trade months or years of service in exchange for support and an agreed-upon payment. For prisoners, trading their remaining sentence for an indenture was a definite step up.

The flashpoint for international criticism was where the work requirement intersected legal prostitution: while imprisoned, registered prostitutes could be assigned to work in a government brothel. What? I agreed with the critics on this one -- it certainly sounded like sex trafficking. I even tried arguing with Lena about it.

"Rick, you know prostitution is legal and regulated in Palau Palsu. So why shouldn't they have registered prostitutes continue in their trade while they're in the prison system? It's a

lot

easier than working in the unskilled labor gangs. And it pays more into their release savings accounts. From what I've heard, many -- most -- of the women prisoners who weren't working prostitutes outside register just to be eligible!"

I gave up. Maybe she was right. She certainly knew their system better than I did. But it still sounded exploitative.