Tracey looked at the list again and smiled as she ticked off the last girl to board the ship. She was pleased with herself, it was a lovely sunny day down at the docks and at the grand old age of twenty five she was the only female slave trader in the town, probably the county.
Of course it didn't hurt the fact that her father owned the biggest slave dealership in the area and she had been bought up in the ways of slave trading from an early age. Her fathers name also commanded respect around here, some of that respect rubbing off onto her. She was sure she wouldn't of got to where she was today with her fathers name behind her.
Slave trading was a mans job she often heard and some of the dealers and sea captains barely kept their contempt in rein when they found out they were dealing with a mere woman.
Of course it also helped that she was an extremely attractive woman who wore her tight dresses very low cut, so low cut that her extremely expansive cleavage looked as though it would spill free from her dress at any minute but alas never did. That displayed cleavage though was often enough to placate the men she was dealing with.
As far as Tracey was concerned she had to use every trick in the book to get by, whether it be her fathers name or her impressive breasts, although it was eighteen forty five, surely a women should be able to flourish on her own merit.
She knew only too well though that women as a whole were prized only for their looks and beauty and generally considered as men’s chattel.
Of course she was helping that feeling through her trade. Although the bulk of the slaves she sold were destined for America and the majority were black males to be used for their labour she also provided females for housemaids etc.
Again they were nearly all black women of little concern to Tracey but usually in each shipment of slaves there were usually some white women being transported as well.
These were called Fancy Girls and Tracey knew they were highly prized in America. Technically they were supposed to be of mixed race or at least have some negro blood in them, however diluted.
In reality she knew that most of the white women she shipped to America were just that, white women. Most of them were common prostitutes that her men found in the local pubs and managed to coerce into boarding the ship. By the time the girls had sobered up they had been stripped and ankle chains fitted to their ankles and by then it was too late, they were destined for a new life as a slave.
Occasionally a white woman of better breeding would find herself aboard and would protest loudly that she shouldn't be there but the captain of the ship was quite happy to provide the crew with entertainment by flogging the protests from her.
If that didn't work she would be given to the black bucks for a night or two and she would emerge a cowed woman ready for her new life,
There were rumours that a titled lady, a Lady Chambers, had been drinking and eating with a male companion in a pub one night and had been rounded up by Tracey’s men by mistake. Despite her protests she was soon naked and chained in the hold of the ship and never heard from again.
No doubt her Ladyship spent the rest of her life pleasing her new Master on his plantation in America. The woman’s husband apparently showed no real interest in his wife’s disappearance and remarried six months later.
To be honest Tracey found the story very horny, the idea that a lady of nobility and good upbringing could so easily be reduced to a naked quivering slave girl overnight made her pussy tingle.
Although she'd never told anyone, for obvious reasons, the whole idea of being sold into slavery was incredibly exciting to her and always had been. The blacks of course were born for slavery and she hardly gave them a second thought, but the fact that a white woman could be traded as a slave got her juices flowing every time.
There was no market for such goods in England of course but she knew all too well that the Americans had an insatiable appetite for white female flesh and she was happy to supply that appetite.
So for every shipment of slaves she supplied there were four or five white girls included in the manifest. She would supply more if she could but any more than four or five girls disappearing every few months would catch the laws attention. So far they had not been bothered by her trade and seemed to accept the number of white girls she took as acceptable but she didn't want to push their tolerance.
The captain of the ship was a rough fellow called Captain Johnson and Tracey didn't much care for him and she thought he didn't care much for her either. Usually though her dealings with him were kept to a minimum but on this particular day things were different.
Normally once the slaves were aboard the ship and counted Tracey would depart ashore but on this day her father was ill in bed and by default she had to endure the passage to America and back again.
She wasn't look forward to it, the few times she'd been afloat on a ship she had been seasick and confined to her quarters for each trip. Another reason was that Captain Johnson was in the habit of taking his daughter Emily on the trips to America with him.
Tracey did not like Emily, she was eighteen and a spoilt brat. Admittedly she was an attractive girl but her manners and attitude to Tracey were appalling.
The thought of being cooped up for so long with Emily filled Tracey with dread. Apart from anything else it was considered bad luck to do the voyage with one female passenger on board let alone two and she knew the crew were looking at her with fear and contempt.
Her father really was ill though and she had no choice but to do the trip to ensure that the inventory got where it was supposed to be going and there were no discrepancies or problems.
So on this bright morning she found herself standing on the deck counting off the one hundred male slaves, twenty five females and four fancy girls. She knew that the conditions below deck for the slaves would be horrible and she fully expected to lose a number of slaves during the trip but she hoped no more than ten percent.
The fancy girls would be kept separately in barely better conditions and she hoped she didn't lose one of them. She only had four on this shipment and that was one or two less than normal and losing any and having even less to sell would not go down well with the auctions the girls were destined for.
She had procured five fancy girls, the ships manifest showed that they had five on board, but one of her men had unfortunately used one of the girls a little too harshly and she wouldn’t be making the trip, indeed she'd never be making any trips!
The men who she employed to round up the fancy girls were not paid well but she did allow them full use of the girls prior to the ship setting sail. Sometimes this perk of the job was used to freely and girls were lost.
As a result she had fined the man a weeks wages, not a large amount of money but hopefully it would serve to reign in his excesses next time.
Eventually an hour after they were due to they set sail and left Bristol behind them. She had feared this might happen as she found herself having to share a small cabin with the loathsome Emily.
The ship was not built with separate quarters for females in mind and although their cabin was comfortable enough it was cramped enough with the two women inside.
Tracey had hoped that during the ten day crossing and bearing in mind their close proximity to each other that the two of them would bond. Unfortunately this was not the case, Emily proved herself to be as insufferable as Tracey knew she was.
Although the two girls were equals being the ships captains daughter seemed to make Emily think she had every right to lord it over Tracey and assume a sort of control over her.
Tracey, despite her job, had always secretly been a submissive girl, something that Emily seemed to pick up on almost immediately, and within a day or two of leaving port it was obvious who was in charge of their cabin.
The cleaning, brushing Emily's hair for half an hour every night, even the emptying of the chamber pots were all Tracey's duties. If she had been inclined she could of demanded that Emily do her fair share of the work but instead she lowered her head and carried out her chores without a word of complaint.
On one memorable night she had even helped Emily bathe in a tin bath set up in the cabin. The bath had practically filled the cabin and had taken Tracey ages to fill it with warm water from the galley two decks below.
She had helped Emily disrobe and felt embarrassed at seeing the other girl standing naked in such close proximity. She had seen other girls naked of course, her job demanded it, but somehow the closeness of Emily and the confined space made it feel much more intimate and brought a flush to Tracey's face.
She had to admit that Emily was a very pretty girl, younger than her and in full bloom with a lovely figure. She had never particularly been attracted to other girls sexually but she could certainly see why a man would be.
She had to proceeded to wash the naked Emily, enjoying the feeling of her large breasts in her hands as she soaped them and she couldn't fail to notice how hard and erect Emilys nipples became, much like her own.
She had an urge to pinch them as hard as she could but she knew she would face some sort of punishment if she did so she restricted herself to just rolling them between her fingers as she washed them.
She even ran her hands between Emilys legs and washed her thoroughly there. She saw that she had a fine covering of wispy blonde hair down there, hair that was quickly matted wet and she wasn't sure if it was purely from the bath water!
She was slightly perturbed by the moans and whimpers coming from Emily as she washed her there but she made sure she was really clean before she stopped and that took more than a moment.
She had hoped that maybe Emily would return the favour and wash her or at least let her enjoy that bath but as soon as she was out and dry she ordered Tracey to empty it.
It shouldn't of been the case but it very quickly became like Tracey's was Emilys maid even though she wasn't.
A fact that was picked up on during the evening meals with the captain and his senior crew. These were rowdy affairs and despite Emily being his daughter the air was full of ribald jokes and bawdy laughter.
No doubt Emily was used to these sort of evenings having travelled on the ship many a time before but Tracey found the men’s behaviour to be only slightly higher than that of a savage and she spent the nights sitting quietly around the table pretending to be interested in the men’s inane tittle tattle.
As far as she were concerned the slaves probably had a better deal cooped up below decks!
On one night it had been very stormy and Tracey had been quite frightened, the wind and the rain were ferocious and the ship was listing over alarmingly. At one stage the decision had been made to bring the slaves up on deck.
The decision wasn't made for their safety but rather to equal out the ballast of the ship or some such nautical idea, although Tracey was concerned for them, after all they were precious cargo, her reason for being there in the first place!
The storm only intensified and Tracey ended up standing beside the big wooden support of the main sail cowering in the wind and rain. She had no idea where Emily was, probably safe in the arms of her father although he was probably very bust trying to safe his ship!
She was scared and if she'd never had sea sickness before she certainly had it now with the way the ship was rolling about.
Despite being afraid and feeling totally wretched though she couldn't help but notice that all the slaves brought up on deck were totally naked. During the boarding and counting the slaves usually wore loin clothes that although were barely adequate did hide their nakedness. Apparently below decks these loin clothes were discarded and the men were completely naked.
It was quite a sight for Tracey, she was not experienced that way with men, her strict father saw to that chasing away any potential suitors and insisting that she remained married to the job. So the sight of one hundred naked penises was a sight to behold indeed.
These were not small penises either, the size and girth of them took Tracey's breath away as much as the storm did and she was sure that not only her sea sickness was making her swoon against the mast support.
The female slaves were also running around naked, usually wearing the same loin clothes as the males Tracey was well used to seeing their large pendulous breasts swing freely but tonight they were as naked as the males.
Although they salves were all black and little more than savages the sight of so much blatant nudity was an eye opener to Tracey, indeed if the slaves hadn't of been black the whole scene would have been positively scandalous.
Tracey did notice that the white fancy girls were not naked, they were huddled together only a few feet from her position looking as scared as she was. They were dresses in a simple white shift that if they had been on the streets of Bristol would of got them arrested for indecency it was that thin and short.
Indeed the shift was not unlike the one Tracey herself was dressed in. The storm had struck late at night when she had been in bed and Emily had been in such a rush to make sure they vacate the cabin that she had not had time to put anything else on.
Despite her fear and illness she couldn't help but feel ashamed and vulnerable as she stood on the deck. The shift, soaked by the driving rain had plastered itself to her body like a second skin and she hated to think what a harlot she must look like.
The storm raged for another three hours and whether is was good seamanship or good luck or a combination of the two the ship was still upright when the weather subsided and they so obviously ridden out the storm.
It was by now dawn and the light, although not perfect yet was good enough to reveal the broken masts and sails flapping in the wind. Some of the sailors were starting to round up the slaves and Tracey knew that she would soon have to go below decks to do a head count. She herself had found a secure place to stand against the wind but she knew the slaves were left to fend for themselves on the open deck and she had no idea if any had been swept overboard.
“Come on then ladies, let's get you back below.” she heard a sailor say to the group of fancy girls to her left.
He didn't speak unkindly but he had a way of making it an order not a request.
As Tracey watched the girls stood up straight and got ready and the sailor said,
“One, Two, Three, Four,” as he counted their heads, “Where the other one, there's meant to be five of you.”
Before the girls could speak he looked over to where Tracey was standing and smiled,
“There you are, thought we'd lost you there for a second, come on then.”
Tracey was quickly aware that he thought she was a fancy girl, ready to be moved below deck and why wouldn't he, she was dressed in the same revealing shift and she knew that she certainly didn't look like a proper English lady right now!
She was suddenly struck with fear but this was also tinged with excitement, the fact that she could be mistaken for a fancy girl destined for the auction block in America was very exciting, very exciting indeed.
She froze not knowing what to do, the shift was still revealing all her curves and the sailor was sure he'd got the right girl, she wasn't sure how much her protests would work.
In the end she was saved by a most unlikely source.
“She is with me you idiot, surely you can see she has no shackles on.” Emily's strident voice filled the air.
Normally a man wouldn't be spoken to in such a stern way by a woman but the fact that Emily was the Captains daughter made the man blanch and apologise.
“Sorry Miss, it's just that the manifest says there are five fancy girls on board, I just assumed she was one of them.” he mumbled before scurrying off with the other girls.
Tracey looked at Emily with gratitude and was about to thank her for her intervention when Emily said snidely,
“Don't bother to thank me you silly girl, you left me to cope by myself during the storm, I should of let him take you below deck with the others, a dose of real servitude would do you good.”
Tracey didn't know how to reply to that and so she just stood like a naughty schoolgirl, eyes cast down to the deck.
On seeing Tracey's submissive pose Emily smiled and said,
“Maybe it's not too late, I'm sure they have a spare pair of shackles somewhere and there should be five fancy girls on board after all.”
This time Tracey looked up in alarm,
“No please Emily, I'll be a good girl from now on, I promise.”
As soon as she said it she regretted it, Emily was her equal not her superior and yet in that one little statement she seemed to acknowledge her authority over her.
With a triumphant smile on her face Emily looked at her as if thinking,
“Well you make sure you are, there's still plenty of time for me to put you in irons and let you join your sisters down below.”
A shudder of fear swept through Tracey, what did she mean her sisters, those girls were nothing but cheap harlots who deserved to be where they were but then she again remembered how she was currently dressed, no doubt making all the crew around her look at her with lustful eyes.
Not wishing to antagonise Emily any further in case she carried out her threat she again looked down and as she did she said,
“Thank you Miss.”
Emily seemed to accept that and they were soon back in the relative comfort of their cabin. Luckily Tracey's sea sickness seemed to have passed but when she attempted to dress Emily stopped her with a raised hand.
“Actually you can stay dressed as you are for the rest of the trip, you look rather fetching and it will remind you of your position.”
Tracey was appalled, standing in a flimsy shift in the middle of the night on a storm battered deck might just about be acceptable but during full daylight on a calm sea, it was indecent. The shift was very thin and clearly showed that her large breasts were naked under it the way they moved and jiggled, not to mention the fact that her nipples were very prominent under it.
It was also outrageously short, it barely came down to her mid thigh and she had no undergarments on.
“But Emily.” she started to protest but was cut short by her sharp retort.
“I thought you said you were going to be a good girl, shall I call for the blacksmith to fit those shackles?”
Dejected Tracey said no and spent the rest of the morning wearing just her shift. It was bad enough inside the cabin but on two occasions they left the cabin and went to visit Emily's father about some trivial matter, indeed Tracey was sure Emily arranged these visits purely to embarrass her.
On each occasion Emily achieved her goal as Tracey knew that the eyes of each sailor they passed were fixed to her barely concealed body as they walked through the ship. There were several sets of steep steps for the girls to navigate on the way, hard enough for Emily to hold on to her dignity but for Tracey it was impossible and she hated to think how much flesh she was showing.
Emily's father had greeted them each time with an amused look at Tracey's new attire and had to said to his daughter,
“Careful my dear, the crew will think that you have borrowed one of the fancy girls.”
“Perhaps I have.” Emily giggled in response.
“Perhaps you should,” her father laughed, “ I'm sure one as fair as this one would make you a pretty penny if sold on the block.”
Emily seemed to consider this for a moment,
“You are right, I had not considered that but it may indeed prove profitable to me, we have papers for five girls?”
“Yes indeed.” the Captain nodded.
“Good.” Emily giggled and they left the captains cabin with Tracey feeling even more unsafe than she did before.
“You wouldn't put me on the block Emily?” she asked when they were next alone.
“Why ever not? “ she laughed, “my father was right, you would fetch me a nice profit.”
“But I'm not a fancy girl.” Tracey wailed.
“You certainly look like one, anyway I haven’t made me mind up yet but any more crying from you and I will be glad to put you on the block just to get rid of you.” she pouted,
Tracey didn't know what to do, apart from stop crying, it seemed her future was in Emily's hands now and she didn't know how it had come to this. She wished she had stuck up for herself a lot more instead of always being submissive to Emily, helping to bathe her etc.
Now she thought it had gone to far for her to reassert her authority after all she was sitting there practically naked!
The rest of the day had passed quietly, Emily spending a lot of her time sewing while Tracey brushed her hair. The evening meal in the captains quarters had been particularly arduous for her. Whereas Emily sat at her normal place at the table Tracey was relegated to standing behind her the whole time, suffering the rude comments and laughter not to mention the lustful eyes of all the men there.
On more than one occasion she almost ran from the room in embarrassment but she knew that would lead to more trouble so she stood quietly and tried to fade into the background, an impossible job dressed as she was.
One fellow even ran his hand up her bare legs at one stage, he never reached his hoped for destination but he was close!
Tracey was glad when the nights festivities ended and she and Emily retied to their cabin where another indignity awaited her. As mentioned before the cab in small with two berths and a small strip of floor in between. Emily announced that she intended to use Tracey's bed as extra storage space for her dresses and instead of enjoying the comforts of her bed from now on Tracey would sleep on the floor between them.
Tracey was upset, the floor was hard wooden deck, not very comfortable to say the least, but with the barest of complaint she laid down on the deck as if she were a guard dog protecting his mistress.
The night passed slowly, she had never slept well on board ship anyway, the constant movement unsettled her, but sleeping on the floor was even harder, she barely got an hours sleep. What made it worse was listening to Emily's contented snoring coming from above her.
The next morning she hoped that Emily would have a change of heart and at least allow her to dress in a more dignified way, but when she had a sneaky look for her packed clothes she couldn't find them.
On seeing her puzzled look Emily smiled,
“Oh are you looking for your clothes dear, I had one of the crew dispose of them, he probably threw them overboard or keep them to give them to his sweetheart back home, either way it's not like you will be needing them again.”
Tracey almost cried, some of her best dresses were in her packing trunk, expensive dresses, and now they were gone. For a second she almost made a lunge for Emily determined to scratch her eyes out but she knew however satisfying it might be it would also seal her fate.
So another day in just her thin shift, her charms almost totally displayed with every move she made. The voyage was supposed to last ten days, they had probably lost a day due to the storm and so they had another four or so days left, she wasn't sure she could cope that long.
The next day yielded a surprising spectacle to watch, not one involving her which Tracey was glad of. Four naked slaves were brought up on desk, three males and one female, all four were tightly secured to a wooden frame and one by one whipped.
Tracey had no idea what infringement of the ships laws the slaves had made but she found the whole event quite erotic. The whole ships crew were present as well as Emily and Tracey and of course the male slaves naked bodies excited Tracey again. This time it was bright day light and she had a better view of the enormous penises, a sight that never failed to quicken her blood.
Each male was a fine specimen and seeing them writhe against their bonds in agony as the whip struck their backs was exquisite to see. She was sure they were in agony as well as the man whipping them was certainly not holding back, striking the men as hard as he could. Each slave took their whipping stoically though and even though their backs were running with blood by the time the man stopped barely a sound came from the slaves lips.
Funnily enough it was the sight of the naked female slave being whipped that got her juices flowing the most. She was a beauty with firm perk breasts and not an ounce of fat on her. Despite her being a Negro and a slave Tracey could appreciate how attractive she was.
Unlike the men before her she did make a noise when the lash of the whip hit her. Loud piercing screams came from her and she twisted and strained against her bonds making Tracey feel as though she herself could feel the whip.
Once again the man used all his effort to whip her, making no allowance for her sex and Tracey could sense the excitement in the air from the watching crew members who were also enjoying the sight of the naked girl being whipped.
Tracey didn't count how many lashes the girl received but by the time the man finished she was hanging limply against the frame, unable to support herself any longer, She was cut down and carried back below deck with the men and the crew dispersed, the days entertainment evidently over.
Tracey must of looked as flushed as she felt as Emily looked at her and giggled,
“My, my Tracey, you do look as though you would enjoyed that.”
She could only blush and hope Emily did not continue.
“Maybe I should arrange to have you whipped tomorrow, I'm sure the crew would enjoy seeing a white woman treated like that.” Emily smiled evilly.
“Oh please don't.” Tracey squealed, yes she'd been excited buy the scene but she couldn’t imagine how much pain the slaves had suffered and she didn't want to!
“We'll see, it might do you good, put you in your place.” Emily giggled again.
Once again Tracey thought silence was the best option but the thought of being whipped naked in front of the whole crew filled her with dread.
Mercifully it didn't happen and the next two days of the voyage passed without any real incident although Tracey was still sleeping on the floor beside Emily's bed and still carrying out her duties dressed in just her skimpy shift which was looking more than a little grubby by now.
With one day to go before they reached America Tracey knew she had to go down below decks to count the slaves, she still didn't know if they had lost any overboard during the storm.
She explained this to Emily who rather grudgingly gave her permission for Tracey to visit the slaves quarters although she did set a time limit on the task.
So with land almost in sight Tracey descended into the bowls of the ship. It was her first time down there and apart from the dark and goom the first thing that hit her was the overpowering smell.
The sanitary conditions down there were next to none and she hated to think what her dainty feet were stepping in as she gingerly began her head count.
The slaves were all laying down in as much space as they could which wasn't very much as they were crammed together and they looked at her with suspicion and confusion, to them she looked like one of the white fancy girls dressed as she was.
Once again she was treated to the sight of completely naked men only this time she was in their world and she felt very vulnerable as she walked among them. The sights and smells completely overwhelming her to the point where she had to restart the head count several times.
Finally she managed it and noted that they had lost five men, an acceptable number she thought to herself and with a final look she walked on to the women’s area which was separate from the men’s.
The women had more space than the men but only slightly and they were all naked like the men and once again Tracey was struck by their casual attitude to their own nudity, nobody tried to cover up etc.
They were two women down which again was acceptable and so finally she went on to see the fancy girls. They were all there and they were not naked, all four wearing their shifts and they had the most space of all, indeed Tracey thought to herself that they probably had more space than she herself did!
Again she was looked at warily and with confused looks and one of the girls asked her to sit with them and talk a while. Now Tracey would not normally do such a thing, after all despite being white these girls were slaves but the thought of hurrying back to Emily was not an attractive one and so she let herself slide down the side of the ship until she was sitting like the rest of them leaning her back against the wooden side.
Surprisingly enough she quite enjoyed their conversation, the girls all knew what was going to happen to them once they got ashore but the very fact that they were getting ashore pleased them, the voyage being long and dull for them.
Apparently the male slaves were allowed free reign to use the females as they wished but the fancy girls were not to be touched by anybody and their days were filled with talking and brushing each others hair and such trivial matters, rather like her days Tracey thought to herself.
During her time sitting with them a dirty plate of food was brought into them. To Tracey's surprise there was a plate for her which she took when it was handed to her by a surly seaman. The food was almost inedible but she asked the other girls why five plates had been provided when there were only four of them normally there.
“Oh there's meant to be five of us apparently and they are to stupid to count us and they've always brought five plates in every time.” a girl laughed.
“Yes we don't mind if they think there's five of us, more food for us, “ another girl chipped in, “so we don't tell them there's only four of us, we just play along and pretend there’s five.”
“They actually got it right today.” another girl laughed and Tracey joined in the girlish giggling knowing that she was in a potentially dangerous position sitting here with the other girls dressed as she was but she felt the old familiar tingle between her legs and made no effort to get up.
After another ten minutes during which time they tried to digest whatever food it was they'd been given one of the girls asked,
“How come your not wearing leg irons?”
For the first time Tracey saw that all the other girls wore heavy looking shackles, a three foot length of iron attached to two ankle bracelets riveted securely shut, she doubted they could ever be removed riveted as they were.
All four girls were looking at her awaiting her answer and she was embarrassed and didn't know what to say, she couldn't admit that she was a free woman, their mistresses no less , how would she explain that sitting there with them and wearing what they were, and so she said the only thing she could think of,
“I've been helping serve one of the ladies on board, shackles would of hindered my duties too much.”
As soon as she said it she regretted it, she had basically admitted that she was one of them! They seemed to accept her explanation though but them to Tracey's horror the seaman returned to collect the empty plates and the girl who had asked the question spoke up,
“I'm sure they will get you in irons quick enough now that we are almost there, isn't that so John.”
Apparently they were on first name terms with their captors and he grunted confusedly,
“Our friend here needs some shackles fitted.” the girl said explaining as if she was talking to a backward child.
“Oh I will inform the smith.” he grunted and left.
Tracey was alarmed, this was going too far again, her companions thought she was one of them and she could soon be shackled and she doubted if Emily would stop it, once she was shackled them she may as well be a slave!
What was she to do. She certainly thought it was time to leave her current companions and so she rather shakily stood up and as she did so one of the girls flipped up the back of her shift revealing her unblemished bottom to them all.
“Your not even marked.” the girl squeaked in surprise.
Tracey knew what she was referring to, as per her own orders each slave was marked on her behind with a number. It was etched onto the girls right buttock with a burning stick, the heat and the charred wood leaving a distinct mark. It wasn't permanent but it lasted a month, Tracey knew that permanently marking a girl was a matter of choice among slave owners. Some wanted to put a big bold brand on the girl marking her as hos property while others did not want to disfigure her skin preferring an unblemished bottom.
To prove the point each of the four girls quickly got onto all fours and flicked their own shifts up revealing their own numbered behinds and a whole lot more.
Leaving the sight of four upturned bottoms Tracey quickly left and made her way back up above deck, luckily no one questioned her on the way.
Once back in the relative safety of Emily's cabin she was met with a scowl from Emily asking her where she'd been. Still flustered by the sights she'd seen and the danger she'd put herself in she couldn't think of an adequate answer answer so she just mumbled an apology.
“Well get that shift off, we're not too far from shore and as it's the only thing you have to wear it should be washed.”
Tracey was shocked, she had seen Emily naked when she'd help bathe her but Emily had never seen her totally naked and despite the shift offering the bare minimum of modesty at least it did that.
“Are you sure Emily?” she whined weakly.
“Of course I am you silly girl, not get that rag off or I'll call a crewman in to do it for you.”
Tracey knew she was beaten and as slowly as she could she grabbed the hem of the shift and pulled it up over her body and her head until she took it off completely and threw it onto her old bed.
She stood completely naked three feet in front of Emily looking at the ground dying of acute embarrassment.
“Not bad Tracey, not bad at all,” Emily giggled appreciatively as she looked her up and down, “ I'd get a pretty penny for you if I put you on the block I'm sure.”
To Tracey's shame Emily reached out with her right hand and cupped her right breast in her hand squeezing it as if she were judging it's weight.
“Yes these would fetch me a large amount on their own, I'd be a fool not to sell you.” she laughed .
“Please don’t Emily.” was all she could think of to say.
“Oh shut up, “ Emily snarled, at the same time pinching Tracey's nipple hard making her yelp in pain, “it's not up to you anyway, it's entirely up to me isn't it?”
In fear of receiving another pinch Tracey whimpered,
“Yes of course Emily, I'm sorry for questioning you.”
This seemed to please her and she let go of Tracey's breast and sat down on her bed studying the naked Tracey in front of her.
“You are a pretty girl though, I know many a fine gentleman, and some not so fine, who would love to own you, use you for their pleasure.” she laughed.
Tracey shuddered at the thought but she wasn't entirely sure if it was in fear or excitement!
She kept her head lowered unable to look Emily in the eyes as she studied her naked body.
“Right you can stay like that for the rest of the day while we get your shift washed, one of the cabin boys should be here soon to collect it.” Emily said casually.
The thought of being seen naked by a cabin boy was shocking to Tracey and she begged Emily to be able to wear one of her dresses, at least till her shift was clean.
“Certainly not, I'm not letting a girl like you wear one of my fine dresses, “ she snapped, “ and besides the boy won't mind seeing you as you are.”
Tracey wasn't worried about whether the boy minded seeing her naked, but she cared about him seeing her!She was about to say so when there was a knock on the door and without waiting for a reply in walked a young boy. If Tracey had seen him in the street back home she would of considered him a street urchin.
The boys eyes flew wide open when he saw the naked Tracey standing there and she squealed in embarrassment at his intrusion into the cabin making the boy and Emily laugh.
Without taking his eyes off of Tracey he collected the shift and promised to have it washed and returned soon.
“Oh no hurry, she can stay as she is until you return.” Emily giggled.
“As you wish Miss, is she going to be for sale ashore?” the boy grinned.
“I think so, why do you want to buy her?” Emily smiled.
“I'd like to Miss but I don't have any money.” the boy said ruefully.
“Well if you can borrow some do, I'm sure she will sell cheaply.” Emily laughed.
With a promise to see what he could do and with a final glance at Tracey he left the cabin, much to Tracey's relief. The talk of selling her and the fact that she was standing there naked and humiliated and weirdly turned her on but the overwhelming sensation was embarrassment.
She said as much to Emily who brushed her complaints aside as if they were of no significance at all, as if being seen naked by a young boy was nothing important.
The next hour or so was spent still naked brushing Emily's hair and doing menial tasks around the cabin, her embarrassment did not abate at her constant nudity but Emily seemed unconcerned. The cabin boy returned after a while and again with lustful eyes on Tracey he had informed Emily that there had been a mishap. Apparently her shift, newly washed, had been pegged to one of the many ropes on deck to be dried by the wind but the wind had proved to be too strong and had ripped the garment free for it never to be seen again.
Tracey was horrified but Emily laughed as if it were highly amusing,
“What are we to do then, leave her as she is?” she asked the boy.
“Well that is your choice Miss, we have a supply of shifts for girls such as her or as you say leave her like she is.” the boy replied making it fairly obvious which option he preferred.
“Emily, I can''t stay like this.” she whined knowing full well that what she wanted would of no bearing on Emily's final decision.
“I don't see why not, “ Emily snapped but then to Tracey's relief she said to the boy, “ but you better go and get us one of the slave shifts.”
The boy left with his usual last look at the naked Tracey and he returned ten minutes later with the familiar white shift.
Putting it on while the two of them watched Tracey noted that the shirt was even thinner and maybe an inch or two shorter than her own shift. The material was also coarser and was very itchy already, but these considerations faded for the moment, at least she was covered again, if barely.
She was well aware that although she had previously been dressed in similar garb to the fancy girls it had been different enough to notice, her previous shift had been made of fine silk for example and she was now wearing rough cotton. Anyone outside the cabin wouldn't see her dressed similarly to a fancy girl, she was dressed as a fancy girl!
As if providence had spoken there was a sudden knock on the door and a rough crewman entered and looking directly at Tracey said,
“The smithy is waiting for her, we will be ashore soon enough and he wants to get her done before then.”
Emily looked slightly confused but Tracey knew exactly what the man meant, he was there to take her to have shackles fitted!
Emily seemed to catch on fast, especially at the word smithy and she suddenly squealed with delight,
“Of course, we mustn't keep the man waiting must we Tracey?”
leaping up from the bed where she'd been sitting and taking Tracey's hand and leading her out of the cabin behind the crewman.
Tracey was startled, firstly she could see land, and secondly on where she was being pulled to. She didn't want to have iron shackles fitted to her delicate white ankles, they looked horrid and must weigh a ton. She wailed as such to Emily who was determinedly pulling her along but as usual she was paying no attention to her.
Of course she was dressed as a fancy girl now and everybody they passed if they didn't already assumed she was one. They entered a small funny wooden shack affair that compared to the rest of the ship was boiling hot.
A red glow coming from a carefully contained fire in one corner, in the centre of the room stood an anvil, a smallish man wearing only trousers looked at them and said rather unnecessarily,
“Is this the wench?”
In reply Tracey made a desperate lunge for the door but she was quickly scooped up by the crewman who had brought them there. The cabin boy had also come along for the entertainment and Tracey could only wail once more at Emily.
“Oh do be quiet, your only embarrassing yourself Tracey.” she snapped and then turned to the blacksmith, “ this is her, do whatever you have to do.”
Tracey squealed as she was pushed roughly to the floor and her leg lifted up so that her ankle was resting on the cold iron of an anvil. Apart from the fear of what was happening she was only too aware of the view she was giving them now, the boy having positioned himself to get the best view.
Without another word an iron bracelet was attached to her ankle and and a hot pin was pushed through the joint fixing it firmly in place,
“Shall I close it permanently? “ he asked looking up at Emily, as did Tracey.
“Oh how do you do that?” said Emily with a glint of excitement in her eye.
“Easy enough, just flatten the head of the pin down so it can never be pulled out, she will be in irons the rest of her life then.” the man laughed.
Tracey shivered in fear, it was bad enough that she was having them fitted at all but to think that they might be on forever would be unbearable.
“Won't that affect her value?” Emily asked.
“Maybe a few pennies,” the man shrugged, “ nothing too bad, a lot of men like their girls in irons.”
Again everyone looked at Emily and she eventually said firmly,
“Don't do it for now, but maybe later.”
The man shrugged as if it were no importance and he reached down and lifted Tracey's other leg up and into position on the anvil.
She was just relieved that she wasn't condemned to a lifetime in irons, at least yet. Her shift was now up around her waist and she knew all her charms were being so lewdly displayed to the excited men, she wondered how many other girls they had seen in this obscene position, lots she guessed.
Almost without her realising the other bracelet was fitted and her legs fall back to the floor and she attempted to cover herself as best she could while the others talked above her.
“Shall I mark her?” the smith asked and Emily looked at him in surprise.
“A brand you mean?” she asked.
“Yes, on her backside to show she's your property, have you an owner's mark for her?” he asked.
Not for the first time Tracey looked at Emily with baited breath, she seemed to be taking her time considering her answer.
“No, I don't have a mark, and besides I intend to sell her and I'm sure her new owner would not appreciate my mark being on her, leave her as she is.”
Tracey could of kissed her! It seemed that sound business sense had saved her from the branding iron. She was pulled to her feet and felt the full weight of her new shackles, the bracelets attached to a length of heavy chain that would take some getting used too. The rough iron was already chaffing her delicate skin.
“Come on then Tracey, don't dawdle.” snapped Emily as she left the hut, as if the happenings in there had been of no trouble at all.
She had awkwardly attempted to follow, almost tripping several times as she adjusted herself to the shackles. The cabin boy had the nerve to give her bottom a hard slap as she passed him, his cheeky grin being the last thing she saw as she exited the hut trying her best to keep up with Emily.
They had made their way back to their cabin, gingerly in Tracey's case, and had only been in there a few minutes when Emily hit her with another bomb shell.
“Actually Tracey, I've decided that this cabin is too small for the two of us after all, and bearing in mind your confirmed new status I think it best that you spent the rest of your time with your sisters don't you.”
In reality Tracey was not totally adverse to the idea, she was sleeping on the floor in the cabin anyway, and being in such a confined space with Emily every day was not exactly pleasant. The only thing that worried her was that dressed and shackled as she was, living with the other fancy girls would confirm her fate.
In the back of her mind she was till clinging to the hope that Emily was still toying with her, she had no real intention to sell her once they reached land. Of course with each no indignity heaped upon her by Emily this hope was fading and now she was dressed as a fancy girl and shackled as one, soon to be living as one, almost all hope had gone.
In fact her only hope she decided was that somehow her father would find out about Emily's actions and arrange her rescue. He was half way around the world though and in his sick bed the last time she saw him, what chance did she have of him thwarting Emilys plan.
“As you wish.” she replied to Emily who seemed slightly surprised but pleased by her answer and within the hour Tracey found herself once again sitting the with four girls.
Once again the girls seemed friendly enough and seemed to accept her explaining that her mistress had finished with her now they were so close to shore and Tracey was to resume her rightful place back with the other girls and in a way that story was true!
This time Tracey was more depressed though, the time she'd sat with time before she could pretend to be one of them but also get up any time she liked and go back to Emily and her normal life, this time was different, she had no normal life to go back too.
She sat quietly and listened to the girls inane chatter, they seemed to have accepted their fate but Tracey knew her father would not want her to end up like this, a barely covered, shackled, slave.
She had seen land the last time she was on deck and sure enough within a couple of hours a man appeared and told them to get up and ready to leave. The other girls were excited at leaving the ship after the long voyage but Tracey was full of trepidation and worry. Would Emily have a change of heart and save her, she doubted it.
After an agonisingly long wait the girls were brought onto the deck, the bright sunlight hurting her eyes. She could see that the ship was now moored along side a dock heaving with activity. She also saw that the male slaves were being taken ashore first, then the female slaves and then the fancy girls, there was no sign of Emily.
As she walked down the steep gang plank, difficult in shackles, she trembled with fear, the white fancy girls were drawing a lot of attention from the men and women on the shore. The sight of a so scantily dressed white woman was obviously something to behold.
Tracey noticed that the slaves once again had their loin clothes on, the woman were still bare breasted, at least the fancy girls were spared that shame.
They all had to stand on the dockside while a man walked up and down counting them and for the first time she saw Emily, who had apparently assumed Tracey's position and was talking to the man counting them as if they were her slaves.
For a second she thought of stepping forward and informing the man of her rightful position but she realised how silly that would look, she didn't know the man and he didn't know her, he had no reason to believe that Emily wasn't who she said she was and why would he believe or even listen to a shackled slave girl dressed like Tracey. So she stood quietly with the other girls still being jeered and looked at by what seemed like the towns entire population.
A couple of laughing boys were even going down the line of girls lifting their shifts up to reveal their charms to the watching crowd, they reached Tracey and did it to her and she nearly died of embarrassment. If this had been at home and slaves were being treated the same was she would of laughed with the onlookers but now that she was on the receiving end of such treatment it wasn't so funny!
Finally after what seemed like an age Emily and the counting man seemed satisfied and the whole group of them was marched off to their new quarters, a large store house on the edges of the dock. Once again the male slaves seemed to get the worst treatment, all of them crammed into a small space, the women a larger space and the fancy girls even larger.
There was straw on the floor of the stall they had been put into and Tracey suddenly saw that opposite them in another stall were some cattle. This wasn't a store house it was a barn!
The slaves were just another type of animal to be kept in there.
It was a horrible night, she slept fitfully if at all, as well as the sound of the other slaves around her the cows were making their own noises.
The next day wasn't any better either, at first light they were all herded outside into a small courtyard where they were fairly well crammed in. They were all stripped totally naked and then unseen people on the low roof, unseen before, threw ice cold buckets of water over them.
The water really was shockingly cold but despite the squeals she didn't really mind, the sun was beating down on them and this was the first time she'd had water over her body since leaving England.
Of course the fact that she was naked outdoors was positively scandalous, although she was one of many and the courtyard was enclosed she was still naked outside and even worse in full view of men. Of course she was also with naked men but as blacks they didn't count.
She'd never been so pleased to get her scanty shift back on. It proved to be short lived though because an hour later she was standing naked in the courtyard again, this time only the five fancy girls there and assorted men folk who appeared to be judging the girls physical appearance.
She really felt like a prized animal being sized up for it's value on the block, upwards of six men examined them with their hands as well as their eyes. Breasts were squeezed, bottoms slapped and thighs pinched. The men were all in good spirits and laughing and joking amongst themselves and why shouldn't they be in good spirits, they were inspecting five naked white girls!
To Tracey's surprise the other girls seemed to take it in their stride, as if this was an expected part of a fancy girls life but to Tracey it was excruciatingly embarrassing, she had no intimate experience with men and now they had got very intimate with her, very intimate indeed!
As far as she could tell the inspection had been an assessment of their worth, something she would of expected to happen if she'd been the one selling the girls, as merchandise however it had been a different experience!
The rest of the day was dominated by one piece of news that had been sent on a fast clipper ship that had let England three days after their own ship but arrived only twelve hours later. Her father had succumbed to his illness and died shortly after she'd left.
Emily had found her and delivered the news personally in an abrupt and uncaring way and had appeared surprised when Tracey had burst into tears. Not only was the loss of her father hard to bear but also lost was any vestige of the hope that she still carried in her heart, who would save her now.
From Emily's demeanour she certainly wasn't going to save her, she had made her mind up about Tracey's fate some time ago and wasn't about to change it, she even made a comment that she might inherit whatever money Tracey's father left as Tracey herself certainly wouldn't be able to.
She spent the rest of the day sobbing inconsolably curled up against the wall of the barn, the other girls concerned but unable to help.
The next two days passed in a blur, she was fed and watered but other than that she was left alone. She was aware that various people, men and women passed through the barn as if looking for suitable stock to buy. The women in their fine dresses crinkling up their noses against the smell of the barn.
They had been inside the barn for three days when they had another visit to the courtyard and more cold water thrown over them. Once back inside they got dressed and rumours spread that today was auction day, the day they were to be sold.
Tracey had long given up hope that Emily would appear and release her, telling her it had been a joke all along, and so she joined the coffle of slaves as they were led out and loaded into carts, apparently the auction block was some way away.
Dressed in her normal shift she had to suffer the jeers and laughter of the local towns children and townsfolk as the carts made their slow way to their destination.
Tracey had never seen America before and this was not how she thought she would first see it. For the first time the other four fancy girls seemed as nervous as she was as the auction site grew near.
At one stage they passed a small family and the young boy with them yelled out with venom,
“Burn the witches!”
she hoped that he'd gotten his public haranguing skills spectacularly wrong!
After half an hour in the cart they seemed to reach the centre of town where a small stage like structure had been erected and the sizeable crowd of onlookers had gathered. Still fearful all the slaves were taken off the carts and the auction began.
The male slaves were sold first, some singularly and some in small groups and once again they were all naked. Despite her own current predicament she was still excited to see the naked men so lewdly displayed to the cheering crowd.
She quickly realised that although she guessed there was almost two hundred people there, in reality there was only three or four people actually buying slaves, the rest had come to gawk and enjoy the sight of public nudity!
Who could blame them, black bodies or not the sight of so many penises was enough to make a girl swoon.
Tracey had never seen a slave auction before, she knew where she was sending her slaves she exported and traded in but she'd never imagined being here like this.
Soon enough all the men had been sold and it was the black women slaves turn on the block. They too were stripped naked and this time it was the men's turn to get excited at the sight of naked flesh and the cheers and bawdy comments came thick and fast.
Again though it was only a select few who were actually bidding as the women were displayed so blatantly. There were a few tears from them but the crowd didn't care, they just wanted their pound of flesh and they were getting it!
The sense of fear and foreboding was rising amongst the fancy girls, they knew their turn was coming up on stage, would they be stripped naked too, surely they wouldn't do that to white women?
Soon enough it was their time to find out as the last of the black women were sold and Tracey and the others were ushered up the steps to the stage. Being in the full glare of the crowd was bad but what followed was even worse as a big stern looking man approached each girl in turn and tore their shifts from them. The material was thin and flimsy and ripped away easily and all of a sudden Tracey found herself standing on the stage completely naked.
The crowd went wild and it was all she could do but run away off the stage but that would have been stupid as she would be running into the people who were baying for her. This kind of public display of nude white women would have been unthinkable back home and it was bad enough that she was there at all but to be as naked as the day she was born was even worse.
She barely comprehended what the auctioneer was saying as he described each girls exposed charms, he was speaking so quickly and in a different accent to what she was used to. He spoke even quicker as the bids started coming in for the girls and she could only stand there in naked shame as the crowd reached fever pitch.
In truth it was all over before she knew it, herself and the other girls were taken off the stage quickly, she had no idea how much she had been sold for or to whom but she was certain she had been sold.
Still naked all five girls were loaded back onto their cart and driven back the way they had come, it appeared that although they had new masters they would be stored awaiting collection for the time being.
Over the next two days the five of them were whittled down to just two and it seemed very quiet and even eerie in the big barn, now empty apart from the two of them and a few cows.
The two days seemed to drag, with only their meals and the daily buckets of cold water thrown over them to ease the boredom. The other girl had also been sold but like Tracey had no idea who to and for what purpose or final destination.
Then it happened she was laying on a straw bale when two men came in and she was pulled roughly to her feet while it was confirmed that she was the correct girl and she was led outside and loaded into a cart, which was never an easy thing to do in shackles.
She realised the time had come for her new owner to claim her and she sat fearfully in the back of the cart, her knees drawn up tightly to her chin. She looked out at the familiar buildings they passed as the cart made its way back into the middle of the town. This time there were no jeering crowds,just people going about their daily business, an almost naked girl in the back of a cart nothing to be concerned about.
Finally they stopped outside a big house that Tracey didn't recognise but with help she alighted from the cart and made her way inside, fearful of what awaited her. To her surprise though the woman of the house seemed quite pleasant and even kind as she greeted Tracey with a warm smile.
“Welcome girl, let's get you upstairs and bathed and into a nice dress, the customers wouldn't like you as you are.” she laughed gaily.
As she was led upstairs she heard from behind her the woman talking to one of the men who had brought her here,
“Arrange for those awful shackles to be removed as well, quickly as you can.”
Tracey was glad to hear that, they really were a hindrance and hurt dreadfully, what had the woman meant by “customers” though?
She was led into a well furnished room, even quite fancy, in the middle of which stood a tin bath full of steamy water, she was going to enjoy this, shackles or not!
Hoping for some privacy but not surprised when the man who had led her to the room stayed and watched as Tracey removed her shift and naked stood in the bath. It was funny how the thought of being so wanton in front of a man would of seemed so shocking not that long ago but now she thought nothing of it.
She was embarrassed however when the woman returned and unabashedly looked her nude body up and down.
“Yes a fine purchase, you will make a great addition to our little gang, welcome to the best whore house in town my girl.” the woman smiled and it suddenly became very clear what she had meant by “customers” earlier.
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