bakerstreet | The Slave Auction Meme

The Slave Auction Meme

â§ 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.
â§ Respond to others with one of the scenarios below or feel free to make up your own.
â§ 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.

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Temugin has two options.

One. He could lie. Bad choice, usually. It's saved his hide before, but it's also gotten it flayed.

Two. He could tell the truth. It's actually right and proper for the master to eat before the slave.

So he tells the truth. "No, I haven't."

"Oh," Tony says again, now looking slightly disappointed. There is yet another awkward pause. This is becoming a theme.

There appears to be only enough food for one, and there isn't a second dish in the oven. "So what are you going to eat?" Tony can't believe that he's not hungry this late in the day.

"I'll make more."

It's not particularly complicated to make, after all. He'd be more up-front, but he's still trying to get the measure of Stark. Exactly what kind of master is he? Temugin has a sneaking suspicion that he's entirely unique.

Ah. Now Tony gets it. "No, no, you go ahead. I'll take the second batch. Can I just—?" He dips a spoon into the pan and grabs a mouthful. Rude, Tony.

He nods, looking very impressed. "That is amazing." He claps Gene on shoulder. "How do you like the sound of personal chef?"

The inside of Temugin's head is a series of question marks. Telling him to eat first? Asking him if he wants to be his personal chef?

Yes. Most definitely a singular man.

But a better position than he'd expected than when he'd woken up this morning.

"...are you asking me, or telling me?" He's really not sure.

Shrug. And a smile. "Asking. If you're not going to talk much about yourself and your record isn't any better, I'm just going to have to figure out what to do with you the hard way, huh?"

You said you're a jack of all trades, Gene, so I hope you're ready for some trial and error.

"...sure," he says, a little nonplussed. Well, more than a little. He's so nonplussed, he's minused.

Though you probably should have figured out what to do with him before you bought him, but no use shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted.

"I think I'd like that." Better than a lot of the other duties he's had, actually.

"Great." Tony beams, like he's found a brilliantly clever solution to an intractable problem. "Take your time; I don't keep to much of a schedule. Always plenty to do." He chuckles.

And that settled - at least for now - Tony meanders off again to continue his nightly routine. (To the extent that he can be said to keep to any kind routine.)

He hits the exercise room, and then the shower, and then returns to the kitchen, now in boxers and another t-shirt. And he's very hungry. He hopes Temugin has finished the second portion of that curry stuff.

Temugin eats fast. He's always done so - to keep his food from being stolen, and to keep himself from getting in trouble. So being told to take his time was once again baffling.

He's known Stark for all of a few hours, and he's been trusted more than he ever has been in his life.

He's not sure if or when he should fetch Stark for dinner, but he's barely finished cooking when Stark comes by, hair damp from the shower and in boxers.

"Good timing," he says.

Tony grins at Temugin, and sits down on a bar stool at the long island counter. The plate of curry is piping hot, but it looks and smells so delicious that Tony can't help himself, and digs in right away. At least the heat keeps him from inhaling the entire plate all at once.

He nods appreciatively as he chews. "I could definitely get used to this," he says around a mouthful. "This was a great idea." As if buying himself a personal chef was the plan all along, and not an ad hoc solution to an impulsive decision. "Where'd you learn to cook like this? One of your masters pay to have you trained, or did you pick it up yourself?"

"Neither," Temugin said. "Some of the other slaves taught me. So my range is a bit geographically limited. If you're looking for Cordon Bleu, you'll have to look elsewhere."

Apparently the curry has made him a little bit spicy, too.

But at least Stark seems to like the food, which is helping to relax him a little. He'd had no idea if his tastes were similarly geographically limited.

"I eat anything," Tony cheerfully assures him. "If it's all this good, I don't care where it's from. But you'll have plenty of time to practice, now, if you're looking to branch out," he points out.

He thinks Temugin has other talents aside from cooking still left to discover, but for now, Tony's happy to be fed a real meal once or twice a day and have a few sandwiches shoved at him when he's been in the lab too long.

Temugin almost says 'Are you asking me, or telling me?' again, because he's known too many masters who couch their orders in apparent requests. But Stark seems so cheerful, and...genuine about it.

Again: weird.

"I'll do that," he says anyway, to be on the safe side. And it can't hurt.

"Great. Never hurts to have a marketable skill, right?" Being able to bill himself as a personal chef with a Stark on his resume my help Temugin move up in the world - into the hands of gentler masters, and perhaps eventually to freedom.

If his value is in a specific skill, it might also keep him from being purchased for other, less savory uses. Tony wouldn't feel right selling one of his slaves knowing that they might end up being purchased as little more than a warm body.

"I agree." A marketable skill - one that would actually be able to be shown on his history - would help him in the future, when Stark eventually became bored of him. He's one of those slaves who changed hands often, and knows this would be no different. Temugin gives it six months at the outside before, like all of them, Stark gets bored.

And being handed off like a hot potato isn't exactly the fast track to freedom.

He'd end up doing what was necessary to survive. Freedom, he knows, is something he shouldn't waste his time pining for. Either plan or don't. Dreaming will get you nowhere.

Tony gives Temugin a wry smile. "Still not feeling very chatty, huh?"

Tony's a social person, and doesn't much like the idea of spending a lot of time with someone who's allergic to conversation, slave or not. But Temugin's flashes of attitude give him hope. He may be better company once he's adjusted and loosened up.

Wow, Stark seems really interested in talking to him. Not just at him, but to him. Like he's actually a human being instead of a piece of furniture.

Huh.

"I'm not used to it," he admits. And I'm still trying to figure out your rules.

"And I'm not used to having live-in servants, so this'll be a new experience for both of us," Tony replies.

It's true: the Starks have fleets of staff at their disposal, of course, but they don't tend to hang around. Howard is a private man, and domestic chores are usually performed in the Starks' absence.

Temugin thinks the situation's rather like comparing apples and oranges, but he doesn't say so.

"So - just to be sure I'm understanding this right - you don't actually want me to be seen and not heard." He's pushing his luck, he knows, since he's using a tone one would normally use to speak to an equal. But it'd be a good way to get the measure of the man.

"I didn't buy you because I need someone else to grovel and kiss my ass, and if I wanted a decorative houseplant I would have gone to a florist," Tony answers bluntly. "So." He waves his fork in a dismissive little circle, as if the whole matter is trivial. "Yes. You have my permission to not do all that." Decree delivered, he returns his fork to his plate and polishes off the last of his curry.

Scraping up the dregs of the sauce, he raises his eyebrows and adds, "Also, if I was looking for some meek little house slave, I wouldn't have bought the guy who looks like he could kick my ass and has 'troublemaker' written all over his records."

And Temugin gives him the ghost of a smile at that. "Well, 'troublemaker'...I wouldn't know anything about that." He pauses for effect, before adding, "sir."

It's going to be a game of pushing the boundaries for a while, but Stark has just opened up a whole new frontier.

Goodness gracious, was that a smile? Finally, some progress.

Tony's smile widens into a grin. "I think I'm going to enjoy getting to know you, Temugin. Mind if I call you Gene? Temugin's a bit of a mouthful." He's sure he's not pronouncing it correctly. (He could take the time to learn the correct pronunciation, but... yeah, he's still kind of an asshole.)

Temugin - the newly-christened Gene - shrugs with some indifference. "Not the worst nickname I've ever had." The worst'd curl your hair, laddie buck.

"And, funny. I was about to say the same to you."

"Well, now I'm curious." Don't say things like that and expect him not to ask about it, Gene!

"And flattered, I think. Maybe you'll be one of the half-dozen people who can stand to put up with me on a regular basis." He gives Gene a self-deprecating smirk.

"I'd prefer not to talk about it." Setting a boundary. Let's see what happens.

"So far, you've actually been one of the least intrusive masters I've had. But then, we barely know each other." A smirk right back. "Sir."

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isn't everything tony does an ad hoc solution to an impulsive decision

yes

good thing we cleared that up then

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Give him a million dollars and a dare, and he'll make an orange taste like an apple!

tony doesn't need a million dollars

well it's the principle of the thing

well you can call him anything you like as long as you don't call him late for dinner.

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you must be a level 4 friend to unlock my tragic backstory