More instruction.

The Whipmaster moved to Aurélie. "Don't apologize to the slaves." He said firmly moving behind her. "They are nothing but toiling meat for our use. The **** you struck would have earned a lash sooner or later. Now again strike the lazy blonde." He ordered.

Aurélie cracked the whip again across the woman's back and elicited a louder groan. "That's better. Now strike her softer regions. Her breasts. Her stomach. Her thighs." He said as he moved to the **** and poked his finger in each body part.

"We are not just keeping the slaves on task but teaching them we are their betters. We own them. We use them. They are nothing but a means to our ends." He moved back to Aurélie. "Now strike her breasts under her arms and the oars." He ordered.

He watched the tone firm body of Aurélie as she stood in his galley. The heat of the enclosed room had caused her to perspire and her blouse now cling to her flat stomach and ample chest. He admired her fitness and firm tone ass clinging tightly to her pants.

"She would look excellent chained to an oar if he couldn't make a Whipmistress out of her." He thought to himself as he moved back to the stool and leaned against it watching her work.