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DIR Return to: Sundrop {Marcus} - Second Girl of the House
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#Post#: 710--------------------------------------------------
Marcus Lycus discusses his plans for the Fair with Yana{HoL};
the slave is then given a glimpse of the future (Part 1)
DIR By: Yana{HoL}
Date: March 25, 2026, 4:33 am
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03/24/26 04:21:59 pm)
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
.:|The House of Lycus|:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
House of Lycus - Great Hall
-=is somewhere within, visiting or conducting business in the
Great Hall of the House of Lycus.=-
YanaProperty of the Hous: Marcus was seated in his throne in the
Great Hall, mulling over the report from Lady Ivenia regarding
her assessment of Yana. He'd had not had a chance to speak to
the Lady of his House about his plans for the one he dubbed
Yana. He suspected, however, that she had guessed he had some
game afoot, for while he would certainly collar any woman
foolish enough or bold enough to fall into his clutches, They
knew each other's moods like none other, having been friends
since childhood. Aye, friends and much more, which was an open
secret none dared speak of among the staff of the House of
Lycus.
He would seek out Ivenia later this night to discuss those
plans, for they would not put such things in writing to be safe.
The slave papers were meticulous, as they would be, though they
made no mention of Ydril ze Omu. Instead they spoke of Yana
being a she-urt of Tyros who had no name or family. That was
true enough given who she had been before her elevation. Of
course that would do little to hide her at the moment from those
who knew her... which did raise the question of whether he would
bring her with him to the Fair or not. There were ways to
disguise her, of course. His plan to mask her as just another
blonde-haired, blue-eyed bond-maid was a apart of that. But now
he wondered if he should dye her hair or add piercings to make
her look more the barbarian. Someone totally unlike she who was
Ydril ze Omu. He pondered this as he looked to the fire, his
thoughts aglow with whirling, transient nodes of thought
careening through a cosmic vapor of invention.
(03/24/26 04:37:55 pm)
Yana
Property of the House of Lycus
Restricted to the House
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:..
House of Lycus - Great Hall
-=is somewhere within, visiting or conducting business in the
Great Hall of the House of Lycus.=-
...Merchant of Love...: The soles of bare feet made virtually no
sound as she who was now named Yana entered the Great Hall of
the House of Lycus, she having just come from the bowels of the
House, where Felicia had inspected her brand, the red haired
slave poring keen eye over it before declaring that she was
happy with how it was healing up, and that the blonde would have
a beautiful mark in her thigh, that of the northern bond maid,
such as was common here in the north. Felicia had then told her
that she may don the tunic that she had been given earlier, for
at this ahn it was not expected that the House would see
visitors, particularly as the Fair was now in session, and so
she might put on the tunic, Felicia then watching with critical
eye as Yana pulled it over her head, adjusted the flimsy garment
that served not so much to conceal as to entice. Once satisfied,
the reassess had then told the blonde that she should make her
way to the Hall, where her presence was required.
And so it was then that the slave girl entered the Hall, it
still at this ahn, the flames of the fire casting warmth
throughout its walls as they caused shadows to flicker and dance
on the walls. For a moment the slave thought that she was alone
in the Hall, wondered then why she had bee told to come here,
but then saw you, sat upon your Throne, your eyes gazing into
the fire.
Marcus Lycus. Master of the House of Lycus. She had not seen you
today, had supposed that you were most likely bound for the
Fair, now realised that Hall was empty otherwise than you and
she. And so she moved across the floor, to where you sat, her
steps placed with a degree of care, for the hem of the tunic lay
perilously close to swell of ass cheek and one misstep would see
it ride up, offering fleeting glimpse of that ass as she picked
her way across the room, past the kaissa table where her fate
had been sealed until she was before you, could then sink to her
knees.
She knelt as a woman who kneels before a Man, her thighs spread
wide, and now the tunic did indeed conceal little as she arched
her spine, gave a toss of long blonde mane, so that it would not
obscure twin globes of breast flesh barely contained within
flimsy material, a certain brazenness to her movements perhaps,
but she had resolved earlier that she would not be weak, she
would be strong, as her hands came to rest on her thighs, palms
turned downwards, she kneeling, unsure whether she should speak
or not.
03/24/26 04:48:22 pm)
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
.:|The House of Lycus|:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
House of Lycus - Great Hall
-=is somewhere within, visiting or conducting business in the
Great Hall of the House of Lycus.=-
YanaProperty of the Hous: Marcus watched a Yana entered, his
face a stoic mask at first, showing neither approval nor
disapproval. He usually held this look with girls as they
started training. He believed in offer praise when it was
warranted, but he did not want them to become too accustomed to
his smile. It was a treat to be handed out sparingly, like the
candies often given out as rewards.
The tunic the girl wore was ill-fitting, he thought. But that
was by design. The fabric was thin. Thin enough she might as
well wear nothing at all, but it's brief cut made the girl more
aware of how she moved and what was shown - an important lesson
for when they were allowed clothing that was fit to them. For
while Marcus did often keep his girls bare in the Great Hall or
elsewhere in the early stages of their training (bath girls, of
course, had no need for clothing, which was why the famous
Felicia was typically nude save when she was to dance and given
a costume built for eventual removal. But Felicia was not in
evidence to offer her support of the new girl she had taken
under her wing. There was only her Master and Master of the
House.
Once Yana was kneeled, with the slave tunic riding up high
enough that it revealed the sacred spot between her legs - now
totally smooth thanks to Felicia's tender care - he smiled and
let his eyes focus upon that point. He held the look to let Yana
feel his gaze before speaking.
"Good evening, Yana. Are you starting to find your ease here in
my House?"
(03/24/26 04:57:28
Yana
Property of the House of Lycus
Restricted to the House
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:..
House of Lycus - Great Hall
-=is somewhere within, visiting or conducting business in the
Great Hall of the House of Lycus.=-
...Merchant of Love...: The slave knelt, under her Master's
gaze, felt the weight of his eyes as they rested upon her, the
object of their focus utterly clear to her, the delights at the
base of her belly that the brief tunic revealed completely,
waxed by Felicia so that it was utterly bare of all hair. She
would have been as well to have been naked, was perhaps more
naked than if she had been, her nipples taut, like miniature
Sardar twin peaks straining against material that almost felt as
if it should be torn away under the heat of that gaze. Was this,
then, what it was to be looked upon by a Man, a Man of Gor? Did
he desire her? Would she feel his cock in her cunt this night?
The thought, the slave realized with just a hint of blush to
cheek, was not undesireable, not one that she sought to rapidly
push from mind as she knelt under his gaze, wondering how long
the silence would last, recalling when she had been a Mistress,
had looked upon a slave in silence, that silence a weapon, one
now wielded on her, a silence that could be broken by only one
of us.
And break it you finally did, your question such that it was
almost as though she was Guest in your House, almost as though
Ydril had won that game. But she had not. Although in truth she
supposed she was still guest in your House, just in slightly
different circumstances. "Good evening Master." Her voice was
low, the Tyrosi accent subtle but present. "Yes, Master, I
believe so Master." How else, in truth, could she answer?.
03/24/26 05:08:30 pm)
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
.:|The House of Lycus|:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
House of Lycus - Great Hall
-=is somewhere within, visiting or conducting business in the
Great Hall of the House of Lycus.=-
YanaProperty of the Hous: Marcus nodded as he leaned back in his
chair. "Good. I know the circumstances in which you find
yourself here are.... difficult. And in truth my claiming you is
as much a surprise to me as I think it was to you." He paused as
he considered his words carefully, for he was that sort of man,
who wielded words as if they were a sword and thus treated
anything he said as a warrior might consider a sword or an axe
before going into the Arena of Blades.
"Still... what is done cannot be undone. Or at least not done so
easily. In truth, I had hoped for an alliance with the lady
Ydril for her connections would have been useful. But since
those connections were in danger of disappearing as I understand
it, perhaps it is better this way. I now have at my command a
woman with the wit of one raised to lofty heights who also knows
what it is to be hungry and forced to fight. And when I am done
with you, you might play the role of slave as well."
Another pause as he regarded her in the firelight. "I depart for
Sardar Fair in the morning. Even in your current state, I fear I
must leave you behind. Likely there will be many there hunting
Ydril ze Omu. And while few will look to every blonde slut
expecting to see a familiar face, enough might to make it a
risk. Particularly if they listen for a Tyros accent and look
for a scar from breast to belly. I don't suppose you ever
learned the art of speaking with other accents?"
(03/24/26 05:25:07 pm
Yana
Property of the House of Lycus
Restricted to the House
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:..
House of Lycus - Great Hall
-=is somewhere within, visiting or conducting business in the
Great Hall of the House of Lycus.=-
...Merchant of Love...: The slave knelt then, listened as you
spoke, she silent, though you would likely see her head nod
briefly when you spoke of circumstance and surprise, that
movement of her head causing her blonde tresses to brush against
her back, her breasts granting within flimsy rep cloth with each
breath taken.
And then you spoke of your hopes of an alliance, hopes that had
been mirrored in her own mind, but perhaps the Ydril ze Omun
that you desired alliance with was not the one that had came to
your House - how many days ago? Three? Four? Time was already
starting to become distorted as she adjusted to new life, new
routines, ones more set than she had been previously accustomed
to. But such hopes had turned to dust, she trapped by her own
hubris, so assured in her ability to best you at a game of
kaissa that she had gambled that which she should have held most
dearly, her freedom, treated it as pile of coin to be pushed
across a table. And yet....
"I almost had you. Master." It was said not with insolence but
with what might have been regret. "It would have been better if
you had crushed me." She then fell silent again as you spoke,
the flames causing shadows to dance on her bare thighs and arms,
the heat in truth pleasant as you spoke of the Fair. "I was
taught to speak as one from Asperiche" she answered in that
accent, though the proximity of Asperiche to Tyros probably
meant iain's distinction was slight, and besides was not
Asperiche where House ze Omun was to be found. "And my Mother
saw to it that I learned a barbarian tongue, English I believe
it is called. She said it might be useful one day."
She nodded then. In truth she was unsure whether she would be
relieved or disappointed to not attend the Fair, for after all
this Fair would be very different to any other, and there were
some there who would likely enjoy seeing her as slave should
they recognise her.
"But this...." She indicated the scar, it currently hidden under
the tunic "Is somewhat distinctive...Master." The pause between
the last two words had been brief but present.
03/24/26 05:40:17 pm)
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
.:|The House of Lycus|:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
House of Lycus - Great Hall
-=is somewhere within, visiting or conducting business in the
Great Hall of the House of Lycus.=-
YanaProperty of the Hous: He nodded. "Indeed. And while I
normally do not object to that which makes a girl distinctive -
and the Northmen value scars as a sign of strength, even on
their slaves...." his voice trailed off. "I did think that dying
your hair a deep black might work. Or perhaps piercing your ears
and more. Piercings through the nipples are increasingly common
among the barbarian girls from Earth. Nipples and... other
places." A sly smile came to his face. "I had thought perhaps
putting you in a white silk tunic might work. It would keep your
belly covered and allow me more latitude in keeping you close
and protected. And I still intend to consult with the physician
to see about healing that scar. If it is possible, it will still
take time. But that is something we have in plenty, if not
before the start of the Sardar Fair," he said. "Perhaps the
pierced ears can be arranged on the road. Felicia has some skill
in that art as well," he nodded. "But for tonight.... remove
that tunic. And go into Belly pose."
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