Cygnus pondered the question for a small moment, before finally answering. "Name me whatever you wish. I have no particular care for society's little shits. Captain, Master, Cygnus... so long as you don't mean to disrespect me." His eyes trailed over the curves and lines of Altair's body, and he mulled over his thought.<br/><br/>A dancer? Altair claimed he was a dancer. A claim easily supported by his grace and physique in movement. But it seemed strange to him that the slave was no pleasure slave. He was too beautiful a man to waste on dancing alone. He had been watching the slavr as he had spoke, which gradually affirmed his suspicions.<br/><br/>"Altair. You may be the most valuable treasure from that boat. Certainly, your price will fall if you are broken. I will not beat you without reason, but I have no qualms with beating you or marring you. But you begin to give me reason to beat you," he said. "Tell me; where are the pleasure slaves? If there is one thing I have learned from travelling the seas, it is that the fairest of slaves are without fail trained in the pleasures of the flesh. Yet all of the slaves so far have made no mention of such a talent. Even though I would imagine... they would be considered beautiful. Especially you."<br/><br/>He stood up from his seat, circling around the table over to Altair. "Could it be that you deceive me? Not by lying to me, but by forgetting to inform me of your skills?" He reached his hand down and spanked the slave, eyes focused on Altair's face for reaction. "Tell me the truth. If you lie once more, I may decide to strip you of your clothes and check myself, then hand you off to my men for their usage if my suspicions are correct. And my men may not leave bruises, but they are not gentle."