It had likely been the furthest from the slave's intentions, but he had aroused Cygnus. The seductive sway of his hips, elegant and curving movements accentuated by the sash-become-ribbon. If there was one thing Cygnus might share with royalty, it was an appreciation for the body of a dancer. But Altair reminded him too much, too much of Cynalis.<i>Sweet Cynalis. Your honeyed lips and honeyed hair. And your sweet, sweet voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Very well"</i>was what the slave had said, as he was led to the cot in the corner. The answer was easily predictable. It wasn't as if the slave had a choice in the matter - the only choice he had was what manner it was that Cygnus entered him.<i>You could say it a smidgen more enthusiastic, </i>Cygnus thought.<i>You sound like you've been given the lust of a eunuch. </i>Altair was not good at hiding his disdain for the captain, and it was unlikely that the sentiment would improve. To the slave there was no worth in trying to gain his favor, not when his attempts had gone horribly astray and also that there was simply no reason for him to try. He was in the company of what he considered a barbaric rapist, a consideration he thought of to be at least in part true.<br/><br/>Laying back on the hard straw mattress that he called his cot, Cygnus quietly spectated the slave. Piercing aquamarine eyes watched every movement Altair made. The slave freed his cock from its fabric prison, encasing the shaft in a cage of nimble fingers. His face betrayed none of his arousal, although his cock did - with Altair's treatment, his cock swelled in size, beginning to erect itself to its fullest. Though his cock was what one might consider to be impressive if not giant, the slave maintained his stoic expression.<i>Some might be afraid of taking it inside. Not you, hmm? </i>Mimicking a cat, Altair wet the palm of his hand with his tongue, using his spittle to lubricate the beast he was about to ride. Then the slave used his own two fingers, slipping them inside his hole in an attempt to widen himself for the challenging insertion.<br/><br/>A sigh left his lips as he felt his manhood become enveloped by the Dusanian's tight insides, slowly but surely, until he was sunk down in its entirety. The captain placed his hands against Altair's hips, to provide support and to prevent the slave from dismounting. For moments, the slave did nothing, and there was silence in the room save for the sound of ocean tide crashing against the sides of the ship. The slave was contemplating something, a question, When Altair asked for oil, Cygnus could do nothing but stare.<br/><br/>"Oil..? Where would I keep oil? I am the captain of a ship, not the mistress of a brothel. Of course there is no oil," Cygnus said. "Begin the task I've given you before I do what you expect of me." The threat was all the slave needed to spur him, as he began to ride the captain like he was commanded. At a sluggish pace, unlike the urgent pace utilized by Cygnus during their first encounter. For Altair there was no want to hurry; he could've complained, but he refrained. It was a moment of mercy for the slave.<br/><br/>As he watched Altair work to bring him to climax, an idea rose to Cygnus' mind.<i>I wonder if you can follow this command. </i>His left hand trailed down from Altair's hips, settling itself on the slave's cock. "Provide for me your own sort of oil. Release your seed and fashion it into a lubricant for my cock to enter you," Cygnus ordered with a smile. "Failure to comply with my command... you know what that means, don't you?" He wondered if it was within the slave's capabilities. "The only time you can climb off my cock is when you're applying the 'oil'."