Calob, chemist and entrepreneur.

Calob Ng rolled his shoulders, still trying to come to grips with the densely packed musculature of his new body. He felt big, powerful, intimidating. It was a new sense of self. Acteon males were not the same as the homogenised conferation citizens - generations of isolation and selective breeding made the two societies different in genetics and physical terms. His former body had been five ten, lean, dark haired, brown eyed and possessed of the slightly dark complexion standard to conferation citizens. This body was paler skinned - Caucasian due to the limited original genetic stock of the first settlers of Acteon - and stood at six three. Knights were generally better physical specimens, but Acteon men tended to be tall and strong. His new weathered and sun bronzed face had a days growth of stubble, hard bristles on his chin. He also wore a thick slicked moustache. His partly braided hair hung long about his shoulders. And he felt agressive - hormones that were carefully balanced and controlled in the confederation through genetic engineering generations ago and subtly diets ran rampant through his new body. He liked it. He felt alive. Rough. Tough. A master of himself and his surrounds. There were callouses on his hands, scars on his chest and arms. His teeth were not perfect but were in good condition. He was a primitive man now, used to hardship and the trappings of this society.

Calob also wore the raiments of a knight. Sword. Mail. Cape. Rough cotton shirt. Leather britches. He felt dangerous. He walked along the narrow cobbled street, hand near his sword pomel, taking in the sights and sounds and sensations that were at once alien and a part of his borrowed life. He would be here for a week, enough time to savour the pleasures of this place and conduct a bit of business. He planned on buying a new slavegirl, his purse was full of coin to do just that.

"Sir Wilfred," a vendor called. Calob didn't realise for a moment that he was being called. The body he wore was named Wilfred.

Calob turned to the vendor and nodded. "Yes."

"The new you promised me..." The vendor said, ushering him into his shop.

Calob nodded in understanding. This was his contact. Calob followed the man, Jin, into his shop and lifted his sack onto the table. Calob untied the drawstring and rummaged about inside, finding the eight rough blown glass bottles. The offworlder put them on the table. "Ten thousand doses in each bottle. Works only on females. Twice as strong as the normal Acteon serum, completely addictive after three doses. Withdrawal will be two days of delirious hell but otherwise no ill effects. It will make any girl into a pliant thrall." Calob grinned. It had been easy to use his companies biochem equipment to make the serum. He'd buried another fifty bottles outside of town. He produced three measured doses from his pocket. "Shall we procure a test subject for the demonstration? Preferably a girl that has never been exposed to the serum before..." One that he would be able to enjoy.

Jin nodded as he put the bottles away in a lock box. "Yes Sir Wilfred, allow me to escort you to the market."

The two headed off through the close hemmed streets, coming to the square where the slavers were setting up for the auction.

Calob looked out over the slaves with appreciation, feeling his loins stirring in a most unusual way. In his old body he had enjoyed sex but he sensed in this body he would relish it. Such was the nature of Acteon male physiology. The slavegirls were all small scantily clad creatures, chained to rings and looking about uncertainly. They all looked ready for the taking. He walked through them, noticing those that had been administered the by the tearing in their faces, their servile carriage and the evident arousal they endured.

The girls were all lovely. Slaves bred to their role tended to be slimly curvaceous creatures with small perfectly shaped breasts. Free women who had been enslaved tended to be a bit taller with larger breasts.

The false knight walked slowly amongst them, in no real hurry. The auction would be soon. Now was time to inspect the goods. He walked up to one girl and gripped her chin. Odd he should treat a woman like property, but that was what they were to him now. He looked at her teeth then moved his hand down to take a measure of her breasts. Her eyes were not clouded by need and she seemed less than excited by his touch. This might make a suitable subject.