Rebecca spends the morning rowing

By midday Rebecca's hands were cracked and bleeding. The first hour of rowing had raised blisters on her hands as they rubbed continuously on the rough grain of the oar's wood. The cum on her face mixed with her sweat, forming a sticky covering that flowed from her face, down her chest, and mixed with the cum which pooled at her crotch. She could barely feel her lower half and her arms burned with the exertion of moving the oar back and forth, back and forth. She stared ahead at the backs of the rows of slaves ahead of her, watching them sweat and move with their oars. No one spoke. They only grunted, groaned, and sweat in the fetid galley, reacting only when the Whipmaster's instrument landed across their back or chest.

Rebecca glanced to her left, catching a view of the woman who sat next to her. Her long, brown hair hung limp across her back, pasted there by the sweat which continuously flowed from her. Her frame was wide and powerful, made lean by the endless days spent pulling on the oar she was chained to. Her brand stood out on her chiseled stomach as the women leaned back to pull the oar. The word "****" glistened in the fierce sunlight that **** its way through the split planks of the galley's hull. Her tattoo, which read "Galley Whore" stood out equally as well on the push. Through each nipple was a small silver ring, linked to the other with a chain which dangled down between her ample breasts. Rebecca had only a moment to admire the ****'s jewelry before she felt someone grab a chunk of her hair and pull her head back.

The Whipmaster's unshaven face stared fiercely into hers, sweat streaming down his face and onto his thickly muscled chest. "We've got a surprise for you new meat." he said through cracked and dry lips. "The captain has decided that it would be educational for you to watch as your little friends get processed by the doc. They were so cruel to you last night he thought it might take the edge off the sting to see them get the same treatment."With that he let go of her hair and moved down to unlock her from the oar. The other slaves on her row took advantage of the few moments it took him to unlock her from her seat to rest their arms. As she stood up and walked down the rows of slaves, she couldn't help but notice their blank, expressionless faces moving forward and back with the oar they were chained to.

On the ship's deck, Rebecca saw as the crew moved lines of women down one side of the ships deck and back along the other in long ovals. The crack of a crewmember's whip split the air as he yelled "Faster ladies! We don't want any of you getting fat down in the holds now. Fat breeders don't sell and you'll be sorry if I don't get my money's worth out of each and every one of you!" The dull tattoo of the women's run faded as the door to the doctor's quarters closed behind her. In front of her she saw the same square room she had seen not a day before, when she had been graded and branded. To her left was a single pillory, to her right were two more side by side with a small wheeled table between them. On the table was a small surgical tray made of gleaming metal, and crowded with all manner of instruments of dubious origin and purpose. In front of her was a desk, covered in papers and folders scribbled with a neat, practiced hand. The very same hand which was furiously writing on a medical pad. "Ah Ms. Rebecca so good of you to join us. I trust you're feeling rested and ready to face a full day? " The Doctor said as he looked up from his notes. The Whipmaster pushed on her back, lowering her onto the pillory before locking her limbs securely to its thick wooden structure. A ball gag was shoved roughly into her mouth and locked behind her head, producing spit which pooled and flowed from her. She mumbled incoherently, trying to get a measure of her dissatisfaction across as the Whipmaster moved to a second door in the cabin's side.

"We thought it might be...enjoyable....for you to witness your little friends get graded and sorted. After all, you all came on the boat together didn't you? Who knows if you'll ever see each other again after you're auctioned off. You'll want all the quality time you can get while we're away from port." As the doctor finished his sentence, he stood up from his chair and walked slowly to a large curtain behind him, yanking a gold tassel that dangled from the end. The curtains split wide and the heavy, brutal Caribbean sun poured into the room through massive windows which faced off the back of the ship. The sunlight illuminated every nook and cranny and brought the rest of the room into sharp focus.

"Due to the...rapid...nature of your acquisition and grading the other day, you did not get the full treatment unfortunately. But it will be good for you to see how the whole inspection is done so you will be prepared for our stay in port. We don't want you to be jumpy when the auctioneer and customers inspect you for your wares." An evil grin passed his lips as he sidled up next to her, petting her head as you would a dog. "The full process is a little more detailed than your own and we still have to finish filling out your file completely. But you should get the gist once you see what happens to your friends."

With that, the doctor signaled to the Whipmaster, who wrenched the door open, slamming it into the wall. Through the door walked Amber and Amy, each prodded along by a sailor who held tightly to the leashes attached to their collars. Rebecca could see dried cum on their thighs, chests, faces, and stomachs. Evidence of last night's festivities. As the Whipmaster closed the door, the sailors chained the girls arms to a spar which dangled from the ceiling and their feet to rings driven into the wood of the rooms floor. Now spread eagle in the middle of the room, each girl stole furtive looks as first Rebecca and then the doctor, fear evident in their eyes.

"You girls are filthy" the Doctor exclaimed. "Your mothers would be so ashamed that their daughters had learned nothing of personal hygiene. No matter! We'll have you cleaned up in a moment. I want you in pristine condition so I don't miss anything in your assessment. We don't want any, shall we say, issues, arising once you've been sold."