It was interesting that Altair demanded an answer as to why he would flog someone. Truth be told, for him there was no simple answer.<i>The feeling of being vulnerable has been forgotten for me, </i>Cygnus thought.<i>Two men have wielded a whip to my body, one who is long dead and another who resides upon a throne. </i>The pain of being flogged had lingered and he could remember it, but the fear of being flogged had disappeared in its entirety. "You mistake my eagerness to whip you as fear... truly, it was because I just liked your screams," the captain answered.<i>The whip has become my flute, that I use to make pretty birds like you sing.</i><br/><br/>Of course Cygnus would not act like a Dusanian master. If a Dusanian master was what had bred Altair's pride, then it was unlikely that they would be able to control their slaves. Such a master he imagined would only be able to control a bowl of watery oatmeal. Altair had written that the bond of a Dusanian master and slave was built through love and understanding, which he doubted. Perhaps a rare occurrence of a few, but the entirety of Dusan? The idea that all Dusanian slaves might be treated as if they were essentially free seemed almost wrong.<br/><br/>"What sort of masters do Dusan have that they might let your behavior breed? You move with a pride that suggests that your masters crawl after you on all fours, led by a rope around their neck. I would sooner jump off deck and drown in the sea than mimic the actions of a Dusanian master," Cygnus declared. "I am only familiar with the methods of one land... Printemps. Perhaps you should travel there one day. The slaves there would enjoy your company."<br/><br/>Altair did not heed his demand as Cygnus thought he would, which came as a surprise. Momentarily the slave stared up at him from the floor, a wordless exchange of conversation as their eyes met.<i>I refuse, you insufferable pirate </i>was all that those eyes said to him. Soon the slave staggered to his feet, rising up to his full height. The captain was greeted with an expression of tired ire, as the slave smoldered silently. Some acknowledge had to be given to the slave. Adamantly refusing to obey him, once again. The same behavior that he had been greeted with their first day of shared voyage, and the same behavior that he had been greeted with just then.<i>By the gods, you are denser than the biscuits I eat to survive. <br/>
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Perhaps it's time for more beating. </i>He was not against the prospect of beating Altair. But then he thought next of where the Dusanian would go. The slave would be used as cruel entertainment for the masses, a slab of meat to be destroyed and sliced apart.<i>A unruly slave would make matters more entertaining, would it not?</i>If he beat Altair into submission, he imagined that the slave would prove to be a boring sight. "I don't believe that I am, slave," Cygnus asked. "Although, to you, it seems that my words are best lingered upon."<br/><br/>He stepped forward, reaching towards Altair's groin and grasping hold of the slave's tumescence. Gently, he squeezed.<i>"</i>You are indeed correct. I will have to stop at the shore to restock, in order to venture again. But what you misjudge is my ability to sail you out of Weiss again. If no one sees you, no one will know you exist. If I so wished, I could sail you out of Weiss. But I have no reason to. You have failed to obey me. But I've already told you of plans I have for you in Weiss," he said. Suddenly he squeezed Altair's cock tightly, clamping his fingers shut around the tender flesh of the slave's manhood. His tone dropped, as he said his next words in a whisper.<i>"My acquaintance of mine turns dolls like you into beautiful gladiators."</i><br/><br/>After seconds of his grip, Cygnus released his hand. Then he backed away, towards the door. "But until we hit the shore, all is not decided yet. Perhaps you could change my mind. Or not. Your fate is up to you to craft, and your craft may decide whether you live a long life or a short one," he warned.<i>I suppose you're right... I do play games. This one is a fun one. </i>"I have spent long in this cabin of mine, and I do have other duties than entertaining a snide slave. Return to writing in the book about Dusan, if you will." He turned around, opening the door to the deck and leaving Altair alone in the cabin.