bakerstreet | bidding wars

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bidding wars

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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A day that maybe comes ealier then Morrison expects. Because as soon as the sun comes up there is the sound of dragging. Bangs as Yuri shoves every piece of furniture in his room against the wall, clearing the center.

Then comes the first strains of "Swan Lake "

Yuri's warred with himself. Whether to just leave everything in the hallway. But he's so bored. Even he can't sustain brooding without interruption. And as soon as the music starts... that's all there is. Flowing through his head, washing everything else away as he stretches.

He's shut the door, but the latch hasn't caught. If someone were very quiet, they might be able to catch a glimpse as he rises up. Begins sweeping his legs in longer arcs.

It is the scooting of the furniture that rouses the vampire-red eyes shooting open and glowing as their startled owner comes to his senses. It takes him a few moments to realize it is Yuri is moving the furniture in his room. He eases out of bed, moving swiftly and freakishly silently for someone his size.

When he gets to Yuri's room, he immediately notices that his little pile of offerings is missing...and there's pleasant music playing...and the door is unlocked.

Jack can't help himself, he slides it open just a bit...a tiny crack-to peer in.

Well, the dealer was not lying. The graceful arcs of Yuri's legs-the timing....it is evident he has spent years training and this...this dance is his passion and it warms Jack's heart that the boy is able to enjoy it for the time being. As much as he feels like he's spying...he can't help but watch Yuri's graceful movements as the piece continues. He knows it-Yuri knows it.

The space is too tight for much movement. That's probably for the best. Yuri doesn't have his shoes, and after a week of forced "rest" his muscles are wound into knots. It takes time to work them loose. There is no rushing it. He mostly stays in place, concentrates on pulling them long.

The curtains have been yanked aside, letting sunlight stream in. Every inch of Yuri gleams gold. It suits him somehow, turning him otherworldly as he brings a leg up behind his head. Twisting his body into shapes not meant for most mortals.

If monsters exist, maybe fairies do too.

The boy is impossibly graceful...ethereal even.

How did he end up in an auction house?

Jack is not going to pry. Not now, certainly. He decides to move along and get breakfast started. He can tell Yuri will most likely have worked up an appetite and he himself could actually go for some eggs and coffee, something nostalgic about it.

Within minutes, the smell of coffee and cooking would reach Yuri's room.

The paperwork is frustratingly brief. Only a name, "Alexandra Plisetsky" with "Mother" following it. Even black-market cut-throat slavers are observant of the Minor laws. Yuri's fifteen. If he were kidnapped, international enforcement would come down hard on this.

But this seems to be with parental consent. A grey area, legal at least in this country.

Yuri is not going to part with that story easily. Any more then he's going to part with words. When he wanders down he's quiet. Face flushed from the exercise but only grunting at any greetings. Going straight for the food.

Jack hadn't expected much socialization from Yuri yet, so this is pretty much the morning greeting he expected...but he's seen the boy in his natural element now...he knows at least a fraction of what he is capable of and he's glad they called him...he's glad that this talented young man will not be lost in the system, abused by some other owner and that the world will not be denied someone with such raw talent and passion.

So the vampire sips his coffee and smiles.

"Sleep well? I ah...heard you moving some furniture around. Everything alright?"

There is no smile back. Yuri only rolls his eyes and attacks the bacon. God. Are all adults like this? Asking if things are alright when clearly they aren't? Well, he isn't about to explain himself.

See how Dracula likes that.

He reaches for the coffee. If there is a single comment about it stunting his growth there will be a growl.

"You know, I would be happy to help you move it back." Jack offered, "Drink up. We're going shopping after breakfast."

The vampire went back to flipping through the news on his tablet.

Like it or not, Yuri was going to be social.

"You need clothes and shoes that are actually yours and not ancient hand me downs."

"No. Where else do you expect me to practice?"

It's not enough room, but better then nothing.

Yuri's annoyed Morrison's gotten words out of him. However, he does need shoes. The flip-flops have no support, threatening to trip him with every step. And while they're on the topic...

"Does this hell-hole have a dance supply store?"

Jack shrugs.

"I don't know. The backyard has a lot of open space. I mean the ground isn't completely level, so you might not be able to use it as much, but it is pretty when the weather is nice."

Ah. Finally. Something to work with.

"I'm sure. It is a popular enough hobby here. I'm sure there's one or two. I'll make sure the driver adds it to his route."

Yuri's head snaps up. Teeth gritting.

The memory hits hard. YUri can feel the worn satin of dance shoes in his hand, fraying rough against his fingers. A woman's laugh comes tinkling through a cloud of smoke. Cutting sharp.

I'm not throwing money away on your little hobby -

"It isn't a fucking hobby!" he snarls. Stabbing viciously at the last of the eggs.

Jack frowned.

He paused a moment and nodded.

"I know. You wouldn't be able to move like that if it wasn't. Its a passion, right? The thing you love...the thing you want to do."

He stops again, aware that he has revealed he had at least spied on Yuri a little. The vampire shrugs.

"What? You think I heard a lot of heavy lifting in my own home and I didn't at least look into it?"

Yuri connects that at once.

"I thought you said it was my room? Is spying a vampire thing too?!"

Yuri has never minded an audience. He loves performing, telling a story with every eye on him. But knowing he was watched and didn't know sends his hackles raising.

Morrison keeps acting like he wants Yuri to be comfortable here. Then pulls this shit? Yuri's mother did this too the bitch. Went through his things, saying it was her house...

"I didn't spy...I peeked...and then I left you to your practice. I'm not a voyeur, you know. I'd....I'd actually really like to see you work sometime...if you wouldn't mind. I...I am a huge fan of theatrical productions."

He admitted with a smile and a shrug.

"Not if you don't want to, of course."

"It's still creepy. You should have asked."

Yuri's withdraws the claws. A bit. Plopping his hand onto a fist.

"There's nothing to watch anyway," he grumbles. Finishing off the coffee. "I can't dance on dirt and my room is too small for jumps."

This isn't a no. Even in all the grumbling, he isn't telling Morrison he can't watch. It sounds like he'd appreciate it, but... There's conditions that need to be met.

Who knows. The house isn't huge, but maybe one of the other spaces would work out.

Jack shrugged.

"Maybe so."

The Soldier notices that he was not given a hard no answer and that's progress so he'll take it. He's genuinely curious, now...he doesn't know much about dancing himself.

"So...tell me, Yuri...what is your ideal place for practice? You'll have to forgive my ignorance there wasn't a whole lot of time for...pleasant...past times when I was growing up."

There...that was a different word than hobby.

...Better.

Yuri scrounges for details. Fiddling with the empty coffee cup. Not quite realizing he's thinking out loud, the most words he's spoken since they got here.

"Ideal is a studio, but we built one at home. You need wood floor... with padding, and vinyl flooring over top of it. With a barre. And mirrors."

Probably not a lot of mirrors around. Vampires don't like those, right?

Jack nodded, listening and genuinely interested.

"Okay. We'll have to see if there is a studio you can use when we go into town today. Speaking of which-get your flip flops on. We are going shopping."

Jack stood up, taking his last drink of coffee.

"I'll call the driver and we'll be off."

Yuri grunts, but soon enough is ready to go. He still sits as far from Morrison as possible.

Usually Yuri enjoys shopping. When it's his idea. Going out in a vampire's hand-me-downs and slippery shoes? Doesn't exactly add to the experience. Or the earring the slavers forced on him.

He fidgets with it irritibly.

"I want this off."

Probably not going to happen. Even if Yuri's not familiar with the system, Jack surely is. It marks his status, warns undesirable parties off him. Some owners take even more permanent steps. Use implants and tattoos.

Jack shrugged.

"I'm sure you do, but it isn't coming off for at least three hundred and sixty four days. It'll keep people off of you. I've never enjoyed the tattooing or microchipping of my assistants...never required it since all of them so far have not been permanent, I don't want your marking to be either and I am certain neither do you. It will also keep people from bothering you...which seems to me like the definite plus you would be looking for."

Jack keyed something into his tablet, summoning the driver.

"So...tell me, what is your style?"

Yuri bites back the retort that he can keep people from bothering him. Because if that were true? He wouldn't be here. This does not improve his mood.

"Gucci," he grumbles. Not because he expects Jack to take him seriously. No way he's going to spend his money on that. Yuri can barely afford to walk into those kinds of stores. Mostly he lives in dance sweats, though he does have one leopard-print jacket he scrounged for.

His mother probably sold too. Bitch.

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Gucci, huh? Well, I can't argue with their quality. You seemed a little more punk to me than that, but let's see what we can scrounge up, okay?"

Jack placed a hand on Yuri's shoulder and guided him to the foyer. The vampire retrieved his jacket from the rack by the door and pulled on his red jacket.

"Have everything?"

Jack opened the front door, revealing the waiting car... and a sunny day.

The Soldier put up the umbrella and stepped outside with a practical bounce in his step.

"Who asked you."

Yuri's plenty punk and does not need anyone's clearance on what he wears. He can like nice stuff. Not like Morrison's serious about getting fucking Gucci. He misses that jacket, though. Even if it was third-or fourth hand it was perfect for sulking. Wearing just a t-shirt feel like going outside without armor.

Trying to take his mind off that, Yuri goes for his stand-by - attitude. Slumping down in his seat, he glares at the umbrella.

"Also what moron designed a super-soldier that's scared of the sun?"

"No one. I just like sharing my thoughts and opinions."

Jack smiles.

"I am not scared of the sun. My skin burns easily. You can't have all these exaggerated predatory characteristics without a few pitfalls. I don't know. I never met the design team. A lot of them have passed on."

It has been less then twenty-four hours since Yuri was forced into this car. He is not excited about returning. Even if the situation has improved - A nicer prison is still a prison.

"Whatever," he grumbles. Back to the comfort of Russian.

He spends the rest of the ride staring out the window. Trying to figure out where he is, what sort of place he's ended up in.

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