Varic Vizaz was wealthy, extremely so, perhaps not to the same extent as the decadent Octave, but he was wealthy enough to possess slaves of their own rarity. Ellyah was one such slave. Orgravi women were possessions at home, traded and bartered as one would with currency or commodities, and though they were rarely traded to outsiders, there were always the exceptions to the rule. Those few, those precious few, were extraordinarily valuable in Ageuos, and Varic had paid a princely sum for her. He had owned her for years now, and aging, the master’s favourite pleasure slaves were usually a lot younger, though her training still found her called to his rooms more often than not.

And of course, she was to accompany him in his retinue tonight. She knew the Octave family, though the last remaining member had only been young, as had she, when his father had sold her to Varic. Well… sold. He had lost her in a bet. Varic had used her to rub his victory in the late Octave’s face, though she no longer had such significance.

Her master strode into the party before his retinue, though waddled would probably be a more accurate. He was huge, a veritable blimp of a man. Great rolls of chins fell from his face, pink and moist already from the heat. His great belly was swathed in what looked like three or four acres of black velvet. It was supposed to have a slimming effect, but all it achieved was to demonstrate the man’s great size all the more. Beads of sweat rolled across the great expanse of his forehead as he threw out a hand languorously.

“Go, enjoy the party, we are safe enough here, Octave may be arrogant but he knows to hire guards at least.”

His voice was deep, rich, and mellifluous, far more attractive than his form would suggest, and at his command his guards and retinue dispersed among the party, though staying within eyeline, and one remaining close by. Seric left as well, her master’s minstrel, and for a moment his eye’s met Ellyah’s, then he slipped away into the crowd. Ellyah made to move off in the opposite direction, but a fat arm snaked behind her, one hand tapping her buttock.

“Not you dearest, you stay with me.”

She nodded, her eyes and head lowered in subservience, “yes master, of course.”

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Varic was sprawled on one of the many chairs scattered around Octave’s house, Ellyah knelt obediently by his feet. She was watching the so-called ‘devil girl’, his eye’s however, beady and swamped in the fat of his face, were watching the back of his pleasure slave calculatingly.

Ellyah had seen a great many exotic things in her life, things that most of the people of Ageuous would be astonished by, but the flaming red hair of the slave dancer, it was easy to believe that she was cursed by a demon, or blessed by a god with a twisted sense of humour. And then as the girl began to dance she forgot about her behaviour, how her eyes should be downcast and her head lowered, and she simply watched.