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DIR Return to: Sundrop {Marcus} - Second Girl of the House
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#Post#: 814--------------------------------------------------
Second time on the platform
DIR By: Yana{HoL}
Date: June 27, 2026, 2:49 am
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Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
I held the standing position a moment longer, the long chain
running down the front of my body, between my bare breasts. My
skin had been oiled before I had been put on the platform,
glistened now under the last rays of Tor tu Gor as it continued
slow descent towards the horizon, the shadows already
lengthening, day to soon give way to night, not that that would
stop the business of Slavers, for when the time came torches
would be lit and the shadows of their flickering flames the
naked flesh on display would dance upon bare flesh in a way that
might make us look more enticing than we did during daylight.
Dusk was still some time away though as I sunk down to my knees,
crawled to the edge of the platform, called out to the Masters.
I would sometimes chose one at random, focused my attention on
hm, beckoned him, sought to seduce him with my body, a body that
provided a taste of what the House of Lycus could provide, a
teasing hint, for to all extents and purposes that was what I
was, a tease....a shill my Master had called me yesterday...
Many faces had passed through the crowd, both yesterday and
today, a sea that I had looked upon from the raised platform,
Men of the North, Men of the Wagon Peoples, Men of the Cities,
the colors of Ar and Cos mingling, for this was the Fair, where
enemies could pass each other without drawing steel. Most were
Men, although occasionally a Free Woman would pass, not the Lady
Slaver but others, who would look upon me with disdain, disgust,
which I understood, for once I had been like them. And perhaps
one day they would be like me.
But the Ladies stood out, the Men did not. And so I did not
notice that the same Man had returned several times, one of the
other Slavers, a short bald Man, for he was just one more face
in the crowd, and if I had noticed him would I have thought
anything of it? I was a display slave after all, was here to be
seen, to be looked on by Men, by Masters of Gor...
Ava
{Property of Vegvisir }
The Vegvisir-POD
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ALL: She stood there impressed it took guts I didn’t
have to do such a thing perhaps it was why still only a home
slave not as bold as the others, or to weird with the infinity
for special rocks, hazel eyes looked down for a moment doubt
creeping in as she watched Masters flood in, fingers clenching
the jade green stone
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
:|House of Lycus|:..:|MPG|:..:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to .:|His Delicious Blonde|: The bald Slaver was able to
move down the alley undisturbed. It was funny how quickly the
crowds parted for one wearing the Blue and Gold, even on the
Street of Chains. He wound through the side roads before
stopping beside a large crate that was, for some reason, a
favorite resting perch for slaves who had nothing better to do
but lurk about dark alleys. It being afternoon but not quite
dusk, it was not entirely dark there. But dark enough for a
cloaked woman to go unnoticed provided she did not move too
much. And she did not.
"Did you get a good look? Is it her?" asked the woman.
"I don't think so," said the bald short slaver. "The one on that
platform is a most brazen **** and displays herself with too
much enthusiasm for a newly collared girl. I can try to look at
her papers in the guild records but..."
"Do not bother," the woman said. "It was a longshot anyway. A
report from one drunken sailor of a Lady Merchant seeking
passage to Freeport, But you could not mistake this one. There
is a notable scar on her chest and belly."
The bald slaver shook his head. "Definitely not the one dancing
for Marcus then. She looked smooth as a newborn babe. And not
just in terms of scars."
"That had better not be a tasteless remark," the woman said
warningly.
"It was not," said the bald slaver. "I do not tell jokes. I have
never had the knack. Even so, I am sorry that we could not
resolve this matter for you. The House of the Rising Tarn values
the business of House ze Omun and we will continue looking for
your wayward daughter. I will be in touch if we find a blonde
scarred girl among any of the slaves here at the fair."
Ava
{Property of Vegvisir }
The Vegvisir-POD
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love..., .:|His Delicious Blonde|: Her
own dark hair of a brown tone made it easy to hide since it
withered around her lips a wave of succulent shiny locks, she
saw the blue and gold finally moving hair from her face knowing
that caste of slavers, watching the one on the platform as she
was glad to have something to do than feel sorry for herself,
someday it would not be so scary that thought for now she would
watch and learn, also stare at the blue and gold robes with
interest
Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love...: >o>I was kneeling up now, the
chain rustling as it slid across the platform, it there not to
stop me from leaving the platform but to ensure that nobody
tried to steal me, for there were always some unscrupulous
people at the Fair, those that would attempt to make off with
another's property, and so the chain added layer of security,
but also gave me a prop to perform with, I now grasping it in my
hands, tugging on it, so that Men could see that I was chained,
a slave....a ****....on my knees now, jerking at that chain...a
performance of course, one for the watching crowd, who could not
know that the naked animal that writhed before them had attended
the winter Fair as a Free Woman of Gor, one that had a chance
encounter there which had set her on a path she could never have
imagined....and one from which she could not turn back from,
would not turn back from even if opportunity were to present
itself....
I had let go of the chain now, was kneeling up, hands on thighs
that were spread wide as I called out "Come, Masters, step into
the tent of Marcus Lycus, of the House of Lycus! See what
delights lie behind its flaps."
As I cried out I had not seen you in the crowd, for many faces
were looking at me, but then I saw one that stood out, the Lady
Slaver, distinctive, had returned, she cleaving path towards....
You! My Master!
Sight of you fuelled my movements. my hands on my bare ****,
cupping them, pressing them together as I called out to teh
crowd, clearly unable to hear what anyone in it might be saying,
thus unable to hear the Lady Slaver as she spoke to you.
'How much do you want for the blonde?'
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
.:|House of Lycus|:..:|MPG|:..:|PoD|:.
-- has paid a copper tarsk to enter the great tent in which
slaves are vended from its sawdust-strewn block --
says to .:|His Delicious Blonde|: I had been standing back and
watching the show with no small amount of pride and amusement. I
had, originally, been trying to mark a curious figure who
matched a description i had been given... though bald Slavers
were hardly unique or notable. The sudden cry did not surprise
me, as the crowd had thinned enough around me for me to stand
even among all the other Slavers walking about.
The approach of the Lady Slaver, however, was a surprise. Lady
Slavers were somewhat rare and I thought I knew all the ones of
note, like the Lady Signe. This one, however, was a strange to
me.
I smiles softly and inclined my head. "Tal, Caste Sister. I fear
that there is no sum that would allow me to replant Sundrop from
my garden. You may note that in addition to the blade-and-belly
brand common to Norther bondmaids, she also has a distinctive
brand upon her lower torso. My personal brand - the symbol of
the House of Lycus. Applied only to those girls we intend to
keep within the House forever, though we do allow them to
perform in public as you can see. However, if there is some
quality about her you like, I am sure I can find a girl just as
fine with the same particulars, Lady...."
My voice trailed off, inviting her introduce herself, even as I
turned my head quickly to give Sundrop a wink. I had been
thinking of a reward system for every time someone asked about
buying one of my personal girls. But if I started giving out
candy for that, Sundrop might be too fat to walk by fair's end.
Ava
{Property of Vegvisir }
The Vegvisir-POD
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love..., .:|His Delicious Blonde|: She
watched both standing there even as the crowd thinned her body
more straight in its nakedness, feeling less scared and a little
more bold even pushing back shoulders to show of a great chest
of breasts, her hazel eyes lifted with a glint of mischief, she
watched the Master with a Lady slaver not saying anything
instead keeping to herself for the moment, before a soft
â€greetings Master†called out without a second thought as she
was unsure a little to say anything at all
Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love...: 'Zafira.' The Lady Slaver would
offer by way of introduction. Her attire was proper,
appropriate, robes of blue and yellow, veils, a hood that left
only narrow strip of face visible between veil and hood, enough
to discern that her skin was dark, her eyes darker.
The Lady Zafira would nod then. 'Perhaps I shall inspect your
other stock later then.' And then she was gone, swallowed back
up into the throng. I was, of course, oblivious of what had just
been said, but I saw you, saw the wink as I watched the Lady
move away, grinned as sweat ran down my bare body.
Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love...: Your eyes met mine, gaze held
despite the distance that separated us, I standing now on the
platform, you in the crowd below, watching. I saw your smile,
knew that soon enough I would feel your hands on my body this
night, and soon after that I would feel something besides your
hands....
And then the sound of drum beats permeated the air, a harsh,
primal sound, one that was almost barbaric in its rythmn, one
that set my blood alight as the man brought his plan down on
stretched hide of drumskin. "Who would see me dance?" I called
out to the crowd, to be answered by one one or two people.
"Who would see me dance?" I cried again "Who would watch Sundrop
dance her naked beauty for Masters? Who would watch this beast
perform? Who would see the **** move?" This approach seemed to
be more successful, at least going by the number of 'ayes' that
I heard from the crowd as I moved to the center of the platform,
the chain playing out behind me, securing me to the platform,
cold metal against hot slave flesh as I slowly began to move my
head, my eyes closed, blonde hair brushing against bare
shoulders....
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
.:|House of Lycus|:..:|MPG|:..:|PoD|:.
-- has paid a copper tarsk to enter the great tent in which
slaves are vended from its sawdust-strewn block --
says to .:|His Delicious Blonde|: The drumming may not have been
for her but she made it her own. Closing her eyes and finding
the rhythm while slowly and subtly wiggling so as to set her
bare hips and breasts jiggling a bit in that way that somehow
seemed to snare the attention of any red-blooded Gorean Male.
I myself was not unused to watching such displays Not even from
Sundrop herself. Still, L stood back and crossed my arms,
looking quite satisfied as my Second Girl began to move as the
far-off beat picked up.
Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love...: My head was back, my eyes still
closed....hands now clasping the chain tightly....hips
moving....slow, so **** slow...as the drumbeat slowly began to
permeate my soul....I was slave....I was standing on a platform
in front of who knew how many Men...and some Women...about to
dance my naked beauty....others might dance, on other platforms,
nut they would not dance as I did....
For this....this was where I belonged....when I thought of
previous Fairs....when I thought of who I had been....when I
thought of her world, Ydril's world...it had seemed to be the
world that I had wanted, that I desired, that I had fought for.
That I had killed for.
But I know knew how foolish I had been. Now knew another World,
one that Ydril had never known existed. Who. The. ****. Was.
Ydril.
My head jerked forward then, a sudden movement, my hair tossed,
wildly, one way and then the other and then that way again, with
such force that if anyone had been standing close to me they
would have felt it as keenly as a kurt.
My eyes were open now, wide open, met yours. I wondered if you
would see the fire that burned in them? Were you close enough
Master, close enough to see the flames that you stoke? Close
enough to see me smoulder on the platform, as though I might
ignite at any ihn? Who the **** was Ydril?
I am Sundrop! And I belong to Marcus Lycus! His personal brand
is burned into my flesh....he is master....and I....I am
slave...totally, utterly....
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
:|House of Lycus|:..:|MPG|:..:|PoD|:.
-- has paid a copper tarsk to enter the great tent in which
slaves are vended from its sawdust-strewn block --
says to .:|His Delicious Blonde|: I was not quite close enough
to see the fires in those blue eyes.
I could feel them, though. As well as the revelation that came
in that moment.
She had danced before. She had asked to be trained as a dancer
and spoken with several other girls to learn their tricks. And I
had arranged for her to learn a few basic rote dances. The hell
of it was, though I admired the craft of them, the standard
dances bored me.
It was the love dances that excited me. The ones born of pure
raw need. The ones where there was little thought behind the
movements beyond wishing to excite those watching or wishing to
excite oneself. At least, as much was possible within the
decency laws of any locality or the limits imposed by a Master.
Many girls might bump and grind on the platforms. A few might
dare to touch themselves. But few would dare to bring themselves
over the edge of ecstasy and relieve their own lusts even if
granted permission by a Master. Indeed, it was said a Master
must always come first in all things.
(Gorean humor is rarely subtle.)
Still, Marcus was curious... how far would she go in this
moment.
#Post#: 815--------------------------------------------------
Re: Second time on the platform
DIR By: Yana{HoL}
Date: June 27, 2026, 2:49 am
---------------------------------------------------------
Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love...: I grasped the chain now, the one
that ran from my collar to a rings to into the wooden
platform....I could feel sawdust under the soles of my bare
feet....as I threw my head back, tugged at that chain, with both
hands, my spine arched, hair flying wildly as I hauled at it,
with all of my might....but it did not yield....of course it
would not yield....it was iron....cold, hard iron....I
screamed....a sound that carried across the platform....a wild
cry that came from deep in my collared throat, a cry that echoed
of anger, of a feral fury at finding myself confined by these
metal links, a cry of defiance....as I tugged at the chain...
But of course it remains fixed to the ring, though some of its
length now slithers across the platform like an ost, one
fashioned from metal, from link and chain, not scales and
hide....a steel serpent that rustles....harsh and unbending,
unlike the soft slave flesh that it confines...such a
contrast.....
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
.:|House of Lycus|:..:|MPG|:..:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to .:|His Delicious Blonde|: This is one of the more rote
parts of the dance, of course. The girl struggles against the
chains as if trying to escape. At the same time, the chain is
whipped about like a living thing. One that conspires to keep
the woman bound. Yet even if she breaks the chain, to what end?
She is still bare. She is still collared. She is still in the
middle of a crowd who will recognize her for what she is, even
without her hardened nipples, moist folds and glazed wanton
look.
It was not the look of a Free Woman who wanted liberty.
It was the look of a slut who wished to be free to love and be
loved.
Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love...: I drag one hand down my
face....slowly....as though in frustration.....for I cannot
escape the chains....sweat and oil are on my palm...sawdust
clings to my legs where I cavorted earlier....I stood....held
the chain in both hands....as though unsure what to do....I
could till hear the drumbeat....a primal sound, one that seemed
to be competing with the beating of my heart, a constant
pounding...as I arched my back....I could not escape the
chain....it held me....it was my captor..
I lseized some of the links in both hands...held them where I
could kiss them....lick them, slowly, lasciviously, inf tiny of
the crowd, inf tiny of Masters, Masters of Gor, the sort of Men
before whom i could never be anything but. slave....Men who knew
how to treat a woman like me...a slut like me, a beats like
me....I was a beast....I growled, like the beats that I was,
snapped my teeth at the chain....none could hear of course, but
they could see, see those teeth snap at that
chain....fuccck....yesss.....
I Iet the links start to fall through my fingers now....a
cascade of metal...as I started to move, bare feet carrying me
across the platform....towards the edges....the chain of course
designed to ensure that I could get so far...but not far enough,
pulling me up short....
And so I graphed it, held it....began to wrap it around my hips,
my body spinning on the platform, towards teh center, towards
teh ring where the chain was secured, hips, feet, tits all
moving now, metal wrapped around flesh, cold steel, hot flesh,
as I whirled and spun way from the edges, closer to the center,
moving to the beat of the drum, the pounding of my heart....each
rotation carrying me closer to the center of the
platform....away from Men, away from Masters....
...Merchant of Love...
Marcus Lycus
--- Caste of Slavers---
:|House of Lycus|:..:|MPG|:..:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to .:|His Delicious Blonde|: It was an odd sensation in
that moment. How many Free Men present suddenly found themselves
wishing to be a metal chain and being envious of an inanimate
iron bond. How many of them wished to be rapped around that
sweaty, oiled body. It was well that the girl was out of reach
on the raised platform. Too many men would be tempted to ease
their own heat and hers (though that would be a secondary
consideration) were she within reach. Many would steal her
despite the distinctive brand if not for the chain.
Marcus Lycus was enjoying the show but for a different reason.
The slut was his. Body and soul. She wore his collar. She wore
his brand. He had branded her twice and even with the pain they
had both relished the experience. And now she reveled in the
dance and her new life. There was no doubt in his mind now that
the slave had embraced her fate.
She was Kajira.
She was slave.
She was a dancer.
She was his.
Sundrop
Property of Marcus Lycus
.:RESTRICTED:.
.:The House of Lycus:.
.:|MPG|:.:|PoD|:.
-- is before or upon one of the many platforms of slave
exhibition rented by various Slavers to display their wares --
says to ...Merchant of Love...: The chain was wrapped around my
waist now....the links heavy....I stood, stood in the center of
he platform, looked, in one direction, then another and
another.....my small hands sliding down my body....as I threw my
head back, screamed again, the sound piercing the veil of
descending dusk....this was, to be fir, no orhodox chain
dance...for I did not share platform with a Master....there was
just me and the chain...but I had once heard it said that
today's heresy is tomorrow's orthodoxy....so I would be a
heretic....I did not no come towards a Master as this chain
wrapped around my hips....I was further away from all of the
Masters that watched....
Watched as I writhed in the center of the platform, my hands
moving up my thighs, fingers caressing the iron brands that I
bore, the mark of a northern bond and the personal mark of my
Owner....hands them moving over the chains themselves, that were
about my hips, carrying upwards, until I could press heaving
tits together, the music now engulfing me, confirming me,
igniting a gyration of emotion that threatened to consume every
fucking knew of my being as I threw my head back, let out a wild
howl, an animal sound....and began to move....fast....spinning
across the platform....chain spooling out behind me....heavy
links falling to the floor....my heart racing, pounding with the
rythmn, sweat running down my body in rivers....as I spun, spun
up to the edge of the platform....or as close as the chain would
permit....until it pulled me back...
and so I leaped forward again....this time spinning, facing
upwards, arching my spine so fucking hard that for a moment I
fear it will snap....my hands and feet on the platform, my ass
and back bent in a bow....looking at you for a heartbeat before
rolling over, onto my belly on the platform, sawdust cling to me
as I gazed at you....
You are Master.
I am slave.
I am yours, your property, your beast, your slut. Yours....
I was on all fours now, the chain under me, running towards the
ring, my tits heaving as I gasped for breath, the music now
easing off in the distance as I looked at you....whispered
"Master..."
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