Cygnus shook his head at the teary slave, a scowl upon his face. His 'punishment' had done nothing, save for revealing that Altair wasn't one to break easily. Lose composure, yes, but certainly not break his haughty dispositions. Here Altair was, on the floor and bloody, filled with seed, yet he still maintained his vain air. It made his blood boil - few left alive, much less unscathed, when they insulted him. But he could not kill this slave, no, not unless he wished to lose a sizable sum of gold and treasure. Especially if the King, his benefactor, heard of this slave from the other men; Cygnus would lose his manhood if not his head from slaying a valuable slave. But he took malicious comfort in that, so long as he didn't dismember or kill the slave, he was free to do as he wished. Even maim the slave.<br/><br/>With two hands he picked up a chair, walking over to the door with his cock still exposed, and set the chair with its back facing towards the door. Then he sat on the chair, gazing at Altair with dark eyes accompanied with a wry smile. "No. You may not leave yet. I have two choices for you. You may either clean my cock of the blood you've left on it using your mouth, or... await your punishment on the deck. If you clean me to my satisfaction, your punishment will be less severe. If not, I will deliver to you the full severity of your punishment. But I know which one you will pick. As you've said yourself... I give you such poor choices I know which one you will pick. Or do I? Choose wisely, slave, because I believe this punishment may make it a tad... difficult for you to find a master."<br/><br/>He pat his thigh with his leg, shaking his flaccid cock in the process. Beckoning the slave to come to him and service him, as Cygnus thought he might. He had chosen the words to elicit a response from the slave - and instill fear. Fear in the unknown punishment looming over him. Humiliation at having to choose the stick that would beat him. Cygnus did not suffer insubordination lightly, and he would not take it from a pretty bed slave that worked less than an old noble. He would beat that insubordination out of Altair, and he would do it until they reached port and docked. He wasn't just content with such an arrangement, he was<i>delighted</i>by such an arrangement. One that would allow him to release forth into the world all of his frustrations.<br/><br/>All in the name of training an unruly slave.