The silence of the Bounty was music to Bligh’s ears. Though the barber-surgeon had yet only feminised three of the mutineers (that being the three able seamen, Skinner, Smith, and Quintal), the effect had been profoundly calming on the crew.

It had silenced the defeated mutineers who now sat, chained and huddled together like condemned men within view of the barber-surgeon's office. The only sounds from them was the occasional whispered prayer, or a quiet whimper whenever Bligh approach to choose which one of them would be next for the chop.

The three castrated seamen were quiet as church mice too. Delightfully meek and mild, they obeyed whatever order was given to them, like neutered dogs with their tails between their legs. Is a simple snip sufficient to take the fire out of any insubordinate man? Why can’t all crews be like this? Bligh wondered. Perhaps all vessels would be improved with an all-female crew.

As he pondered, his gaze fell on the form of the young midshipman, John Hallet, who, sensing something unsettling in the captain’s gaze, wisely scuttled away to find some errand elsewhere on the ship.

Most importantly, it had quietened the loyal crew, the men he now relied upon to return the ship to port. They sat on deck in rapt attention, watching their three transfigured shipmates mincing about their duties. Bligh had set them to swab the decks; their fine, fleshy rumps waggling in their air as soap suds dripped down their tender new breasts. The crew were in love with their new feminine companions, and the first two, Skinner and Smith, had already acquired the reputation of... well, whores wasn't the correct term since nobody was paying the men, but their feminised forms were providing the perfect release for the excess male energy that had caused this mutinous business in the first place.

It was almost... too quiet. Bligh hadn't heard a single scream from the barber-surgeon's room since he sent William McCoy to his fate. Was the surgeon slacking in his duties? There could be no delay in processing the prisoners - after he'd given 'Miss' Quintal to Coleman, there had been rumblings of favouritism and the free men were all eager for companions of their own.

Bligh marched to the surgeon's office and threw open the door.

"Ye gods, man!"

William McCoy was splayed open, parts of him littering the room as the barber-surgeon worked his trade upon him. His eyes were as vacant as a china doll's. Bligh had never watched the process, only the end product, and the sight of Ledward winching tight the belt as he crushed the man's waist down into a female hourglass was downright ghastly.

"Sorry, cap'n, this one's a work in progress!" Ledward exclaimed, his brow glistening with sweat and his eyes shining as he evidently relished the horrifying process. "Come back in an hour and I'll have the girl finished and prettied up good and proper."