Chapter 08 -- Servant Trish
Trish woke up before sunrise the next morning. There was no alarm clock to get her up; but instead there was something worse: roosters. The neighborhood was full of them. Flora and Pierre, it seemed, had one of the loudest and most obnoxious roosters of them all: a bird that delighted in standing right outside the living room window and letting Trish have it.
At the beginning of her first full week as a slave, Trish groaned and got out of her cot, cussing out both the roosters and the speed in which the night went by. She grabbed a mango seed out of the trash and with all her strength threw it at Flora's rooster. She managed to clip his tail feathers and sent him running off, clucking in protest.
Trish put her newly-acquired cooking skills to use and prepared coffee and breakfast. She heard her Mistress getting up. Good thing she already had started breakfast. Good thing she already was awake. Good thing Flora's rooster had woken her up.
Eve was fully dressed in her uniform by the time Trish had finished cooking. Trish knelt, greeted her owner, and served her. While the policewoman cleaned her service revolver, Trish ate the remaining food and cleaned up the kitchen.
As she was about to leave for work, Eve had her servant kneel to receive her orders for the day. After cleaning the bathroom and floors and making the bed, she'd have to take Eve's clothes next door to wash them. She'd also have to take her massage books with her and study them.
"I have to go to range qualification and do a PT test today. I'm going to be sore when I get back and I'll need a massage."
"Yes, Mistress Bousquet."
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The day did not start out well. Trish hauled a huge bundle of clothing to Flora's house, dreading the prospect of having to spend the entire morning washing all that crap. The problem was, she had forgotten that she'd also have to pick up three days' worth of fallen mangos from the yard and harvest a bunch more out of the tree, so the clothes would have to wait until the afternoon. When Flora made that announcement, Trish rolled her eyes, a gesture she very quickly would regret.
"Get on your elbows and knees, young lady."
When the servant complied, Flora gave her a vicious swipe across her bottom with her switch. Trish cried out from the sudden pain. Her hands involuntarily went to her bottom.
"I guess you want more, young lady. I didn't say anything about you getting up. Get back into position. Now!"
Flora struck hard three times. Trish cried out, but managed to keep her elbows on the floor.
"Young lady, you will NEVER disrespect me like that again! I guess you've forgotten your place around here! I guess I need to remind you who you are!"
Flora laid another four cruel welts across the American's exposed bottom. Trish's body shook with sobs. She couldn't believe how much strokes from a flimsy piece of tree limb could hurt.
Flora stood over the slave, tapping the switch in her hand.
"In school the usual punishment for disrespect was 12 strokes of the switch on the bare bottom. So, young lady, do you want the last four?"
Trish managed to get out "...no, Mistress Flora" between sobs.
"Well, I guess that's just too bad, isn't it? Your Mistress left me in charge of you, so it's up to me to decide how many strokes you're getting. Prepare yourself and don't you dare move, or I'll give you a lot more."
Flora stuck very hard over the next couple of minutes, spacing the final four strokes about 30 seconds apart to allow the servant to feel each one.
"Now. Get outside and attend to your duties. I hope there's no more unpleasantness between us today."
"Yes, Mistress Flora."
Trish was crying when she went outside. Flora, with the switch still in her hand, followed her out. The yard was totally covered with mangos.
"The buckets to put the mangos in are over there. Get the ones near the sidewalk first. Then you can work your way back towards the house."
"Yes, Mistress Flora."
As soon as Trish began picking up the mangos closest to the street, the neighborhood's school children started passing by in their uniforms on their way to class. A lot of the children stopped to watch Trish as she worked. She made an interesting sight, a naked American with 12 red welts on her bottom and tears rolling down her cheeks. Some of the children were pointing at her and giggling. A couple of the older students had cell phones and were taking pictures. Trish dared not say anything to the kids. Nor did she dare leave the front part of the yard. Flora was standing in the shade, watching her and tapping her hand with the switch.
After a few minutes the kids moved on. If they were late to class they'd feel their teacher's switch on their own bottoms, so they reluctantly left the interesting spectacle in the retired woman's front yard. However, as soon as the younger kids went away, the neighborhood's high-school students started passing Flora's house, including the boys that had taken pictures of her the day before. Oddly enough, Trish was much more embarrassed by having the girls seeing her than the boys. The boys were mostly quiet, but the girls happily chatted with each other about Trish and her predicament. Fortunately, time was running short and the teenagers had to get to class.
As soon as the high school kids were gone, Flora went back inside. She had proved her point and expected no further trouble from Eve's servant.
Trish spent the entire morning picking up mangos, sorting them, dumping the damaged ones into a compost pile, washing the good ones, and stacking the sellable fruit inside plastic bins for the vendor. Flora returned to the yard shortly before 11:00 to tell the servant which mangos she wanted harvested from the tree. By then, the vicious sting from the welts faded into a dull ache. However, the welts had swollen and were dark. Trish knew that if she sat down, very quickly she'd be reminded of the morning's "unpleasantness".
Trish continued working with her ladder and pole until 12:30, when the fruit vendor came by. Flora came out to collect the money for the mangos. Trish knelt while the other two conversed. Of course, the vendor was curious about the welts on the servant's bottom. Flora turned to Trish:
"Explain what happened, young lady."
Trish was forced to tell the story of how she rolled her eyes and was punished for it. Flora interjected:
"The punishment was just not for rolling your eyes, young lady. It was because you showed me that you did not want to perform your duties. It wasn't just disrespect, Servant Trish; it was defiance, and I will not tolerate defiance from a collared delinquent."
"Yes, Mistress Flora."
Tears welled up in the servant's eyes. She didn't understand why, but being referred to as a "collared delinquent" hurt her feelings as much as the switching itself.