The Slave Auction Meme

[toastysocks]

>The Slave Auction Meme

The Slave Auction Meme



❧ Leave a comment with the character's name, fandom, and whether your character will be playing the part of 'slave' or 'master', plus preferences for scenarios if you have any.
❧ Respond to others with one of the scenarios below or feel free to make up your own.
❧ Please remember to be respectful of others while you play

Warning: Be aware that this meme deals with dark subjects like slavery and may also contain non-consensual/dubiously consensual sex, violence, and kink.

SLAVES

1. The Newbie - This is your very first auction and you don't quite know what to expect. Hopefully you remember your training and don't disgrace yourself in front of your new master. Hopefully someone thinks you're worth buying at all.

2. The Oldtimer - You've been bought and sold and bought again so many times. You've seen it all before and don't think this time is going to be much different. In fact, the only real anxiety you've got is whether or not someone's going to pay for a more than slightly used slave.

3. The Pet - You're a pleasure slave. A bed warmer. A decorative piece of artwork. You're meant to look pretty and be pleasing and not much else.

4. The Guard - Your master hired you because of your ability to swing a sword or shoot a gun, not your looks.

5. The Escape Artist - Somehow you always manage to squirm out of your master's chains. Too bad you seem to get caught after a while. Maybe your next daring escape will be permanent. Then again, maybe your next master has special ways of keeping you locked up.

6. The Undercover - You aren't a slave at all, you're just pretending to be one. Why? Well that's up to you. Either way, your cover is blown if you don't act the part.

7. The Specialist - You have a skill that no one else has. Something rare and valuable. Something your master needs more than anything else.

MASTERS

1. The Customer - You've owned slaves before and this trip to the market is nothing new to you. Still, you're hoping to find something worth your while.

2. The Gift - Someone bought a pet for you, isn't that nice of them? Or maybe it isn't so nice. Did you even want a slave in the first place? Well you're stuck with one now.

3. The Giver - You're selecting a slave for someone else, and they need to be perfect. Perhaps you'd better test them out first to make sure you're getting your money's worth.

4. The Trainer - You specialize in taming unruly slaves and making them over into perfect, obedient, well-trained pets.

5. The Rebel - You hate the idea of slavery, but the system isn't going to go away any time soon, so the next best thing is to buy up any slave you can get your hands on and free them, right?

6. The Companion - You want someone to be with you always, someone you can talk to and depend on, someone who will never leave your side. It's a good thing that money can buy that these days.

7. The Undercover - You're not actually a Master. You're at the auction for an entirely different reason. Maybe it's special policework, maybe you're trying to hunt down a certain someone. Either way, your cover is blown unless you act the part.

As always, feel free to use a combination of scenarios or make up your own if you have other ideas.


Snagged from here.

Comments

[trippedup]

[Trip never returned a slave. A slave was his until he sold it again for a much higher price. Ed is simply a slave for the time being to train into a proper whore. He chuckles a bit and moves closer to him. Letting him fight a bit more. Argue and show off his body to the world.

And before he knows it, he's zapped with a taser. Bolts of lightening shoot through his body, his automail fucking up with the extreme level of power displayed.]

You don't have to fight so much. [He smirked, watching him closely.]

[inexchange]

(If he tires before the laser, it doesn't show. Instead, he seems willing to fight forever, at least until he feels so much voltage shooting throughout his body. Instantly, his knees try to buckle, something hampered by the collar in Trip's hand.)

Ahhhh! (The pain is immense, and Ed screams before he realizes he's making any sound at all.

In a moment, it's gone, but the phantom sensation of those jolts remain in his nerves. Rather than defeated, he glares up at his captor, amber eyes still shining brilliantly with defiance. The fight has worked up a sweat which has given his somewhat tanned skin a gleam, a shine over a body impossibly muscled for such a small height.)

Yeah? Had a change of heart? Going to let me go? That's the only way I'm going to stop.

[trippedup]

[So he'll fight some more? Fine. Trip holds up the taser and turns it about 40 volts higher before moving in and zapping him again, holding it there longer this time.]

Don't worry. If you die, someone will still buy you.

[He smirks. Ed's here until his body is unusable. He may not know that... but Trip will happily remind him over and over again.]

But please. Fight some more.

[celticromanstone]

How innocent is this girl? She shouldn't be wandering around without a keeper, let alone a bodyguard. Heather wonders if this is some sort of divine joke. She hasn't bowed her head in centuries, but she wouldn't put it past the gods.

"Maximize the value? Yes, that does make sense, I suppose." Her real skill won't be used though. Pity. "Well, I can do both."

[starksolutions]

Ballsy response, that. "You're pretty straightforward for a guy with a sketchy past who doesn't like talking about himself," Tony observes. "Good. I can't stand spineless yes-men."

He takes a sip of his Perrier, looking increasingly satisfied with his purchase.

Then his phone buzzes. Tony looks at the screen, and frowns. "Duty calls," he sighs, "Got some work to take care of. Sorry." He pulls out his tablet again and flips out the keyboard. His fingers start flying over the keys. Within moments, he's lost in his own little world, running calculations and simulations, all his focus absorbed by the science in front of him. Unless Temugin interrupts, the rest of the ride will pass in silence.

[tarmairon]

Once again, Temugin doesn't know what to say to that, so he says nothing at all. The thing that flummoxes him most, though, is that Stark actually apologized to him for turning away to his work. Completely unheard of. Completely bizarre. And frankly, completely unsettling.

There must have been some mistake. Surely he'd meant to get someone more suited to his station. Not a slave with more gaps in his record than accounts.

That unsettlement is part of what keeps him silent the rest of the ride. That, and observing the man who now held Temugin's life in his hands.

oh ho ho. is this good or bad?

[daor]

Sudden movements weren't new, but his battle prowess was as terrible as he'd said it was. Keelan was trained to take hits however they came, and thus found himself easily pushed away. He barely had time to notice the marks on the other man's body before water dripped onto the carpet from the cloth, the result of squeezing it reflexively, but little more than a confused furrow of his brow was all he did for a moment as he looked to the foot on his shoulder. The robe he wore slid off his shoulder slightly, revealing more tanned skin.

The first thing he noticed was the blatantly obvious. Something spooked the pink haired slave, and judging by the reaction it was the bathing that did it. He didn't pretend to know or care why, he just quietly pressed ihs hand against the man's ankle in a loose grip.

The second thing he noticed was just how limber Fae was. If he trailed his eyes lower, which he unabashedly did, he could see the line of muscles stretching and flexing in certain with the effort it took to hold his leg in place.

"I don't trust you." Keelan said truthfully. "The only way I would free you is to restrain you again until I can."

Not that he would get very far. Keelan was sure that there were guards posted outside the door, no doubt protecting the new investment and old alike, in the event that he would have to call them in. The thought crossed his mind to do that now, but he knew they would take no orders from a lowly slave such as himself.

"Deal with it or don't, it's not my concern." Keelan closed his fingers more firmly around Fae's ankle and brought the cloth up to start washing his foot.

[starksolutions]

Stark Tower is looming in the windows when Tony finally finishes whatever it is he's working on. He looks up. "Perfect timing."

The limo slips out of traffic and into the garage. Tony shuts off his tablet and chugs the last of his Perrier, then turns his attention back to Temugin. "Hope you weren't bored." Whoops. Little late to be worrying about that, Tony. "Anyway. Here we are."

The chauffeur opens the door, and Tony steps out. Once he's sure Temugin is following, he walks over to a pair of glass doors that lead to a tasteful but unassuming lobby.

"Welcome back, Mister Stark," a melodious female voice says. The doors don't open. "Please confirm guest access."

"Guest access confirm. Add biometric print to permanent access list, security level Euler Four." Nerd. "Temugin Khan."

"Please enter palm print and retinal scan," the AI prompts, and a security pad on the wall lights up.

As soon as Temugin complies, the doors slide open, and the AI speaks again. "Welcome to Stark Tower, Mister Khan." Tony smiles, raises his eyebrows, and steps inside.

This is obviously the private lobby. A secretary (ostensibly) smiles at Tony as he walks in, and then sweeps her gaze to Temugin. Assessing. Memorizing. Not all the security in Stark Tower is automated.

"Good afternoon, Mister Stark."

"Afternoon, Bethany," Tony answers, giving her a friendly wave.

He leads Temugin to the elevator, which opens, closes, and moves in almost complete silence. The only evidence that it's actually going up is the tug of acceleration.

Tony leans against the wall of the elevator and sticks his hands in his pockets, watching Temugin, wondering how he'll react to all this.

[purpleintheface]

The arrival at Nino's was as strange as everything so far. They showed up at the front desk in a place that looked like it had a two month waiting list, and Kilgrave just told him to seat him, and he was happy to oblige.

So what are you having?

"I want one of those $1000 pizzas," he said.

Ah, I'm very sorry, that was just for a publicity event, it isn't a regular menu ite-

"I don't care, do it."

Of course, sorry.

"Bring a bottle of wine, something that pairs well. Money is no object." It literally wasn't.

The waiter bowed and left to somehow put this order together.

[purpleintheface]

What the hell? Suddenly bodies are flying. He's not happy about this at all!

In the resulting impact and crash to the floor, he can barely manage to recognize the dominating obessesion of his life only a few feet away from him.

"Jessica!" He isn't thinking, he isn't considering the fact that his powers don't work on her, he doesn't have a contingency planned, not yet. Had she given him ten more seconds he would have, but nope, her timing was quite spot on. There's a reason he loved her. "Stop!"

Shit that wasn't going to work. "Get off of me," no that wasn't going to work either because this asshole was unconscious, she thought of everything.

"Jessica!!!"

[commandandcontrol]

"Alright. Give me a second." She went off to talk with one of the slavers. When they were done talking he gave her a bow, which she returned.

They both came back and the slaver unlocked Heather's restraints. She's all yours, he said.

"Thank you. Ready to go?" she asked Heather.

[commandandcontrol]

Sonja was surprised, although the motion hadn't been so fast that she was liable to try to strike Konoka in self-defense. Instead her hands kind of went off to each side, not sure what to do with them, kind of flailing through the air as Konoka pushed into a passionate make out.

She was passive for the first couple seconds, eyes wide, but then she went with it, relaxing and closing her eyes and started to return the kiss.

[inexchange]

(And he'll keep fighting.

With the voltage even higher, the electricity makes his muscles spasm, and Ed isn't sure he could describe how much it hurt in those few seconds before Trip removes the taser from his skin. There's no room for thought, only feeling.

Then it's over, and he's left bent over, strong chest rising and falling with deep, desperate breathes as if his lungs hadn't returned to their work. Already, his limbs feel weak, and he worries he's going to fall over and have to be dragged from the market. Somehow, he manages to stay on his feet.

Is that Trip's game, then? Shock him over and over until he's lost too many brain cells to function?)

If you're so brave, fight me without the cuffs! (Somehow, his voice is weaker now. It isn't that his fight spirit is dying, it's a physical weakness.) I'll kick your ass and show you how it feels!

[roughedges]

The shrill sound of his voice brings back a familiar memory. She can remember that evening vividly — stumbling away from him as he shouted at her, just like he is now.

She only pauses for a few seconds, locking eyes with him as he squirms on the floor. Her glare is sharp, full of fear mixed with hatred and confusion. Mostly, though, she's running on adrenaline and the urgent need to save Trish. There's no time to untie her, so Jessica grabs her by the arms, slinging her body over her shoulder. She doesn't even realize that Kilgrave has issued an ineffective command. All she cares about is the woman she's carrying. She bolts out of the room, sprinting as if her life depends on it.

[purpleintheface]

"You useless twits! Stop her!"

Pretty much everyone in the earshot turns around and spots Jessica coming out of the room, most of them putting two and two together that she's the one they're supposed to stop.

The armed guards start drawing guns, tasers or batons, while anyone else that isn't chained to something just start running at her trying to grab her feet or tackle her to the ground.

Choo choooooo

[rebelarchivist]

[The ribbons weren't terribly uncomfortable, Dorian had been left in less comfortable positions for longer, suspended from a frame as decoration, tied and trussed and packaged. Really, tied like this he was downright comfortable, letting his eyes roam and taking in the room he had been left in. It was gorgeously decorated, though he'd already figured out that whoever had purchased him had been rich, favorite he might not have been, but he had still been valued and favored. Gereon would not have given him up cheaply, he knew.]

[He'd taken to counting the patterns in the carpet, following the design with his eyes, but something else kept drawing his attention away, inexorably, like a magnet, making it hard to really do much of anything other than fidget and wait. It wasn't until he heard the door open and heard his new master speak that he realized what his brain, his instincts had been trying to tell him the whole time.]

[Oh. Oh. He couldn't help but jerk when he heard the voice, heart beating quicker as he remember Mavros last whispering shameful, enticing things into his ear. Teasing and licentious and only in play. None of it serious, which was the only reason why it had been permitted. But oh, it had intrigued and tempted him, and he knew that his own scent had likely goaded Mavros into more, into seeing what sort of reaction he could get from Dorian. It had taken every ounce of his willpower, every scrap of stubborn contrariness not to beg to be taken there at the party. Disgraceful as it would have been, more for him than for Mavros, it might have almost been worth it.]

[Each footfall on the deep carpet seemed to vibrate through him, it was a struggle to keep his eyes down on the carpet as he knew he had to, but finally he saw the tips of Mavros' perfectly polished shoes in his field of vision. He felt the muscles in his back and arms twitch as he anticipated the touch of Mavros' hand. The touch of the bow under his chin was a surprise, it made him shiver and he raised his chin, grey eyes meeting those of his new master. Daring, perhaps, but he wanted to see those eyes again, bright and intelligent and charming. Maker, he was as beautiful as Dorian had remembered him, as commanding, as charming. He wanted him with an ache that he rarely felt, and he swallowed, wanting his voice to be measured when he spoke. He was not a bitch in heat, he could and would control himself.]

[And so his voice was level, but low. There was no disguising how he felt, and Dorian did little to hide it, but oh in front of that grin, faced with the force of the sheer anticipation in Mavros' smile, in his eyes, was a thing to be reckoned with.]

I do.

[His arousal was already spiking, he wanted Mavros, wanted him as intensely as he had at the party, in the way that being denied something only made you want it more. He was a slave, and an omega at that, his desires were largely irrelevant and often unimportant. He had never expected this, but for once he was not unhappy with it.]

[The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile and he licked his lips carefully.]

Happy birthday.

[roughedges]

She's able to dodge the first few individuals who attack her, though she doesn't get far. One of the guards shoots at her, and the bullet scrapes her arm, just missing its target. She clenches her jaw, momentarily distracted as another guard tackles her to the ground.

"Shit, back off!"

Her irate request doesn't matter; they're controlled by Kilgrave, and they won't stop. Both she and Trish suddenly fall, and more people arrive to keep Jessica down. Guns are drawn and pointed, while several tasers and batons are utilized. Within minutes, she can barely move.

/peeks in curiously

[nohallaback]

OOC: So I'm casually pondering if I should ruin my Quizzy's life and let Dorian here be the one helping to pick up the pieces? XD ((Assuming end of Inquisition so they can do whatever/etc))

ie: at some point he vanishes only to crop up on the block god only knows how much later. Blood magic of some sort used to keep magic in check (reversible or not, we can figure that out), but let's be real having the real live Inquisitor as a slave would be a pretty impressive conversation topic in certain circles. (I completely ship Dorian/Inquisitor but am down for broship instead if you're more of the Dorian/Bull or no romances thought.

Lemme know if you're interested!

[trippedup]

[Someone without brain cells isn't as fun to break. He just wants Edward home with him before he truly begins training. And then he can burn those braincells completely out so the boy is utterly worthless except as a hole to be used.

He chuckles a bit and moves to pull him. Hard.]

Can you stand?

[He doesn't taser him again. Just yet. But it's in his eyes.]

Or are you crumbling? In front of everyone?

[divulsion]

[Wanda notices that the two men who approach are not there for two different people. There hasn't been another adept auctioned off so soon that two pairs would need to be at the contract signing table. It seems that the man who had been bidding on her and had lost was not yet ready to give up, or perhaps hoped to make an arrangement for a later date? She can't be certain what he might be after, but what she does know is that it will take a great deal of her skill handling both men so that egos are not pricked or any pride perceived lost.

She holds herself well, poised and relaxed with a faint smile on her face. Polite, refined, not quite aloof but perhaps distant enough to inspire one such as the Lord Shahrizai or Du'Blanc to wish to break her calm facade. To bring her out of herself by whatever means they desire. But only one of them has won the right to do that, and it's to him that she gives her immediate attention, eyebrow lifting gently as she hears him respond to something the other has said. He doesn't respond to her unspoken question right away, but approaches, drawing closer, closer until he stands all but on top of her. She wonders if this aggressive move is for the benefit of the man he's beaten, for the woman he's won tonight, or simply how he is in life. Assertive. Commanding. Every inch a scion of his house. There are ways she could determine one way or the other, skills she could make use of, but they are not meant for public display. Not meant to be used with such carelessness as to imply they are anything other than unique and rare. Worthy of the price for her companionship.

The man who trails behind him intrigues her as well, perhaps because he bid so fiercely for her, but he doesn't inspire the same kind of interest that the Lord Shahrizai does. He's young and he's beautiful and he has all of the passion of his youth, but she thinks that he's not one with the same tastes as those of Mandrake House. He wishes for an adept and the excitement that may come with purchasing a slave, however temporary the arrangement may be, but she doesn't sense the same sort of hunger from him that she does from Mavros. Eyes wide and steady, she regards the dark haired man quietly, ready to offer her congratulations for offering the winning bid, but he is not done speaking with his opponent. Wanda swears he doesn't break, doesn't show one sign of restlessness or anxiety as he speaks to Du'Blanc, and to her as well. Giving him the same focus that he offers her, not looking away for a second, she nods.]

That is correct, my lord. You have bid the most, and the right to my contract is yours and no one else's. [Only then does she turn to Du'Blanc, offering him a sympathetic smile.] Messire, though you have not won this bid you will find that there are many other adepts who will grace the stage tonight, who would eagerly take their place by your side or at your feet as you will. The night is not lost.

[It wouldn't do to alienate a potential patron, should he find himself determined to have her at some point in time, but neither will she risk doing the same to the man who will be her patron as of tonight.]

My lord, shall we discuss our terms and sign?

6 and I'm gonna go nuts with it

[second_son83]

The last ten years had been busy for the ex hunter. When he was taken by Eli and Lenore they turned him instead of returning him. Sam thought about going back to his brother but with how Dean was acting... and with Gordon... It seemed best just to disappear. Dean would trust him, right? Sam wasn't going to hurt anyone.

Except that he did. He always did. He knew Dean was hot on his trail years ago but a quick trip out of the country changed that. Europe introduced him to a whole different breed and type of vampire and for once in years he had friends. Of course his friends were murderous vampires but it was a change from hunting at least.

Sam hadn't seen his brother in years and honestly, this was the last place he was expecting to run into him. Considering he was now looking down at at Dean, who was locked in a cage for viewing before he was going to be auctioned off as a slave. If Sam's heart was beating it would have stopped, his glass of blood tinted wine slipping a little in his hand. Dean looked older, tired. But damn if he didn't still look good.

His friends bought him here because they knew Sam needed something special. Some sort of friend that wouldn't have a choice to be with him, someone that could feed hid, serve him. At the time Sam chuckled about it and just went for fun. It'd been happening for years and he couldn't stop it but seeing Dean in a cage like that... he had to get his brother out of here.

well who cares what's bad for them B)c

[pinkreaver]

Fae is momentarily distracted by the slip of the robe. His eyes linger on dark skin barely a few shades lighter than his own, and the tail end of the man's long hair lying against it, shifting subtly with his movements.

Well, he is right not to trust him, but not his concern? He'll be concerned if Fae decides to knee him in the face. He doesn't though, because as aggravating as the situation is, the man hasn't actually done anything to offset his anger. For all their barking when Fae first showed up, a certain kinship and unusual interest on Fae's side has kept them remarkably civil so far. The other is clearly practiced at dealing with this type of thing, so much so that he almost seems bored by it.

But this is still awkward for him. He'll happily take a fist to the gut over this gentle scrubbing - at least violence is something he knows how to react to.

"You..." He can feel a flush warm his cheeks as the man starts down his leg. There's nothing particularly intimate about his actions, it's methodical more than anything else, but just the fact that it's soft and delicate and attentive is more than enough to get Fae fidgeting, to have his eyes dart every which way to avoid looking at the man below him. It's weird, it's weird! He's not used to this type of treatment. "At least be a little rougher with it, fuck," he complains, not sure what else to suggest to make his heart stop bashing against his ribs.

After some awkward silence filled only with the occasional squelch of wet fabric, Fae manages to bring his gaze back to the man long enough to ask a question that's suddenly struck him. "Hey," he tips his head forward a bit, brows furrowed, "you still got a name?"

'Still.' Because he's seen it before, masters who take everything from their property - their life, their will, and their name.

5 for you, 4 for me

[sourwolf_hale]

The Hales had been in this business in a long time. They made it their job to buy unruly slaves and train them better. And this one? This slave had the longest records of running away that Derek had ever seen. He was going to be a challenge and Derek was ready for him.

He watched his new pet being let towards him as he signed the final line on the pet's pink slip so to speak. "Given your record I feel this is probably a stupid question to ask but I feel it's necessary. Are you going to behave or am I going to have to drag you to my car," he asked, straightening out his suit jacket after handing the clipboard back to the previous owner.

[runningwithwolves]

It was a very stupid question but Stiles wasn't going to show it as he played the innocent, I can do no wrong act that he always played when he is first bought by a master. Derek would be his fifth master and so Stiles knew how things went. They thought they could 'tame' him and he would play being a good slave until they let their guard down and he would then run. He was always caught because he never thought his plans completely through but this time would be different. He would get away.

"I'll behave, Master," Stiles stated putting just a hint of a mocking tone to Derek's title.

[sourwolf_hale]

Derek turned to evaluate his new acquisition, eyebrow raised at the mockery in Stiles' tone. "Yes, I'm sure you will," he sighed, clearly bored already.

"Get down on your knees," he ordered, popping his claws out of one hand to deter the human from running.