A fishing boat

The men are quiet after that and mostly behave themselves. After a while you see something has caught their attention and there is a bit of yelling back and forth between the members. Stuck on the boats planks you see only what is going on when they come up to the side of larger boat.

With a heave and ho you are hauled by your net up onto the boat where you are greeted by more rough hands. They pin you to the metal deck of the boat while some other men are in charge of untangling you from the net.

You can't help but struggle a little. your tail writhing and wriggling, your caudal fin slapping wetly on the metal. You feel the men's finger slip on your slick scales and they curse, but your neck is held to the ground, a warm hand tangled in your long hair, your arms are pinned painfully behind you and your breasts squashed against the cold deck uncomfortably.

Unused to the cold press of gravity on your breasts and the harsh treatment of your limbs you mewl, scared and anxious of what they want with you.

The hand's gentle momentarily but remain firm. Your peduncle is hugged in a warm and oddly dry embrace while the other hands fumble to readjust their grip on you as the net comes off.

A metal manacle is fastened around your neck and your hands are shackled.

Picked up again, you are hauled over to a metal pit. With only a foot of water at the bottom.

You gasp, as they throw your tail over the edge, thinking they will drop you down there. They lower you down by your torso. Warm hand slipping slightly over your, pale wet ribs, over your breast and finally your arms.

In the end, you don't end up falling far.

You look up at them wide eyed, seeing only the silhouettes of the men in uniform peering down at you. A cover is pulled over the pit and leaves you in complete darkness.