Chapter Four

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!!!