the slave auction meme

[rampantlion]

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 or set up the scene yourself in the comment.

❧ 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.


Originally taken from here.

Comments

nikolae thomas; oc | MASTER / OTA

[hosticide]

Sherlock || Sherlock BBC || SLAVE / ota

[noangel_nothero]

2 - 6 (bit of 5 too). Also AU okay?

[captainwatson]

John usually wasn't keen on these things. Perhaps it was because he'd been so attached to his family's slave, Hilda, growing up that he was a little more empathic than most other people. He'd been brought up seeing slaves as people rather than possessions. But every time he broached the subject with anyone else they just laughed at him. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was wrong.

This was just how the world worked.

Only when he'd left home, he'd sworn to himself that he would never want nor need a Slave. He was self-sufficient and hated being anything less than independent. Even Hilda, who had been almost a Nanny for most of his life, he'd grown tired of having her pamper him and did most of his chores himself. So it wasn't something he needed to concern himself with.

Until he came back from Afghanistan. Wounded and lonely.

An old friend from Uni he'd bumped into had suggested he get a flat-share with someone so he wouldn't have to leave London. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford a flat of his own - he'd been left enough money from his grandfather's inheritance. It was simply company and maybe slight aide for when his knee acted up. Moving the countryside would simply be more comfortable if it came to it. He loved London though. But who would want him for a flatmate? Mike shrugged, but he had another idea.

And that's what lead John to browsing the Slave market at Covent Garden that morning. Trying to find someone who would be more than willing to stay with him and help him when necessary.

So many to choose from. Desperate, hungry, sad, hopeful or vacant eyes stare out to him.

Already, he feels sick just being here. Wrong.

Kara Zor-El (Supergirl) | DC (Slave)

[maidofsteel]

Orihime Inoue | Bleach | Het | Slave

[leekspins]

[ooc: Prompts may still be used! And you don't have to use this for a starter if you'd prefer something else, I just happen to have it handy. Smut is okay, dubcon/noncon is okay. Rescues are also perfectly acceptable!]

Try as she might, fighting to rise to the surface of her consciousness was like swimming through tar. Everything around her felt thick and black, enveloping her senses entirely. Sometimes she thought she was close to awakening, close enough that she thought she could hear muted voices, feel heat or cold, remember that she was in some kind of danger. But every time she teetered on the verge of awareness, there would be a light pinch at the side of her neck, then the feel of someone's fingers stroking her hair and an unfamiliar voice hushing her with false warmth until she fell deep into the darkness once again.

She didn't know how much time had passed when the world of sound began to return in full. Someone was hoisting her upright with a thick arm around her bare stomach, strong fingers cupped beneath her jaw to keep her head erect. Orihime could feel something tugging at her wrists, securing them together as the voices around her became more clear.

"...she walk?"

"Won't matter. Just has to stand there and look pretty."

"She won't struggle, will she? Turns a lot of clients off if they get scrappy during the bids."

Bids...?!

"Nah, she's still plenty sedated. We just gave her enough of a jolt so others can get a good look at her. Up to the buyer if she goes back under or gets a nice wake-up call to get her all perky and lively."

She tried to speak, but her slurred attempt was muffled beneath the band of soft silk pulled taut over her mouth. Her surroundings were a tilted blur of shadows and darkly-dressed figures as she was taken by her arms and frog-marched toward a thin, white line...

...which turned out to be curtains, parting to reveal a blinding burst of bright lights and flashing cameras as she was hauled out onto a gaudy, painted pedestal and presented proudly to an audience she could hear, but couldn't see past the glare of the spotlights.

"And here we have the perfect solution for those cold beds on rainy nights! Wouldn't you like to snuggle up to this soft, warm little number? Silky hair, full breasts, and long legs to wrap around you and keep you snug as a bug in a rug. As always, we stand proud behind our guarantee to provide you with young, healthy companions to brighten your lives and heat up the bedroom."

Orihime felt sick, and she didn't think it was due fully to the drugs. She couldn't make out anyone's eclipsed face in the crowd, and she was too groggy to detect anyone's reiatsu, familiar or foreign. Was she really being sold? Her stomach felt tight. The hands that supported her by the arms tightened gently, as if anticipating that her legs would buckle as she nearly swooned. No, she had to stay awake, she told herself furiously. She had to fight this!

The auctioneer's voice became little more than an incomprehensible buzz, rattling off numbers and numbers and numbers as if breathing no longer mattered to him, while Orihime fought to drive away the drug-induced fog that wrapped itself sinuously around her mind. Then there was a loud CRACK of a gavel descending, and a solitary word that filled her with slow dread.

"SOLD!"

[vampire_king]

Marshall had been totally bored when he and decided to check out this black market. Going from shop to shop until he saw an auction going on. He headed into the area and waited in the back until she was brought on stage.

He hadn't really gone there to buy anyone, mostly to watch. But seeing her on stage all innocent looking and freaked out. Tugged on his heart guts a bit. He decided to bid, but found he had to fight against another until he finally came out on top. Grinning he floated to the stage to claim his prize. He stopped in front of her and held out his hand.

"Come on you're mine now." he grinned at her his mouth full of sharp teeth. He tossed the bag of money to the sellers. He snapped his fingers and waited for them to be handed her over. He watched her get shoved in his direction and he caught her wrapping his arm around her waist leading her towards the exit slightly hoovering off the ground.

He quickly ushered her out of the fair grounds and into the wooded area the market was in. Once deep into the wounds he landed and set her down. "How doped up are you?" He asked.

Loki | MCU | OTA || Master

[abanishedking]

[[Please no Oldtimers or Escape Artists. Undercover is fine as long as your character is maybe a little subby by nature? Please let me know if smut is ok or not! Also non-con.]]

Slave: 3

[nomoresmashing]

[ooc: Is it alright if I go along with an AU where Loki managed to enslave all Midgardians?]

Jason Bourne | The Bourne Trilogy | Slave | Open

[treadstone]

[ Guard, Specialist, or Undercover. Other options to be talked out first.]

undercover sounds good :D

[hosticide]

Nikolae might be a bit of a sociopath when it came to dealing with criminals, but that was only if he was left in an interrogation room with one, or anywhere alone, for that matter—but when it came to who murdered, kidnapped, raped, or wronged anyone else in general (especially the innocent), he was firmly on the good side of the law and had more than enough skills and experience to do some damage to the criminal world.

Luckily for the NYPD, who had hired him as an undercover agent, that made him a really good asset.

This one case, though, had him frowning. He had never liked the idea of slaves, but then again, the difference between a job and slavery was sometimes $3.25 an hour and maybe tips. He sucked it up for this case, though, because they needed to bust a shadow of a man who made the slave traders of old, back when it was legal, look like amateurs, and made modern-day human traffickers a laughing stock. What really had him frowning, though, was that he had to work with someone and pretend to be a master.

To a former slave, he was told.

Today would be their first meeting—to get to know each other, get their stories straight, and for Nikolae, to maybe poke and prod him a bit. See what made him tick so their story could really have some creditability and not alert anyone’s senses. Sometimes criminals snitched on one another, sometimes they couldn’t tell you were a cop, sometimes they could and stayed away, or sometimes they blew your brains out, no questions asked.



[OOC: omg i am so sorry for the novel it poured out of my fingers and wouldn't stop]

Aerith Gainsborough | Final Fantasy VII | OTA

[inflorescent]

[Master: Rebel or Undercover.]

Clint Barton | MCU or AU | Slave or Master

[frosthawk]

[Honestly I can roll with any option for AU.

MCU universe:
For Slave, options 4-7 or Master, options 5 or 7 only.]

Guess.

[iamagod]

A Midgardian slave market. How quaint.

Loki walked amongst the rows and rows of cages, all filled with mortals, some dirty, some groomed, in every stage of fitness or beauty that the human race had to offer. Dressed in a layered tunic of varying hues of dark green, he look like a rich Midgardian nobleman walking the market looking for a new purchase.

He stopped before the cage of one and looked down at the dirty young man within. Not the most beautiful or the strongest the market had to offer, yet he somehow managed to catch the eye of the god.

"You. What do you have to offer?"

Cody Travers | Street Fighter | M/F

[model_prisoner]

[OOC: About to grab some sleep, but putting this up for now. Preference for Cody to be in the Slave role.]

Slave | Metacrisis Doctor | Doctor Who

[notthedoctor]

[AU is fine! Be aware he won't surrender easy.]

Master | Resident Evil | Albert Wesker

[tobeagod]

[searching about for someone worth buying.]

Why, hello there.

[golden_retriever]

[ I say I have a #4-7 for slave here (though I like the name for #3... maybe content too), what kind of master is Wesker? ]

a combination between 1 & 3?

[noangel_nothero]

He hadn't ment for this to happen, but obviously he was poking his nose where it didn't belong. Drugged with something, probably an anesthetic of some variety or some sort of sleeping medication.

He's trussed in some ridiculous costume with a collar, and judging by the hands on him - that's something he's probably going to have to get used to. He's disgusted by the get up, all black and leather and chains.

He grits his teeth, ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth. Judging by the others he's with, he's the best of the recent stock, most of them seasoned, older.
He's the last to be pulled up to the block.
The auctioneer makes sure he kneels, pulling the shock of curls back in a painful position and offers him to the audience.

Sherlock is quite sure he wishes that he hadn't followed that girl into the alley. Even though he has only a small idea of what to expect.

Part of it is obvious. He will be sold, by probably someone who owns several like him, and he'll be "rented" for a price.

The leather is far too tight against his skin. He supposes the only thing he can hope for is that he won't be beaten for any preliminary mistakes.

Motochika Chosokabe | Sengoku Basara | Master or Slave | M/M

[ayepatch]

[ No undercover options, but I'm fine with anything else. Let me know if you want me to set up a scenario. ]

[gunsandchocolate]

[Hey! I'm thinking of tagging as a slave, with options 2, 3, 4, or a mix. Do you have a preference? I don't mind who sets up the scene!]

Sharrkan | Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic | Slave | m/m

[navelgeneral]

[ I'm good with anything other than the undercover and rebel options. Because who could pass up on a royal slave? ]

Michael | Nikita | Slave OTA

[servedhiscountry]

(ooc: Works best with Guard, Undercover and Specialist. I'm willing to go Master if he's Undercover.)

Badou Nails ⚡ DOGS ⚡ Slave ⚡ OTA

[marlborodog]

[ OOC: Have a slave that's either 2, 3, 4, or 7, and will take masters of all types! Failing RNG, HERE'S A THRILLING SCENARIO for Slave Option Two: ]

Asshole! Hey, shitheap! Wake up!

[ The market doesn't have set "opening" hours, but potential buyers are very good about showing up at around the same hour in the a.m., first one by one, then in pairs, then big old groups from work houses and plantations. Going by the battered digital clock built into the rickety dash of the great Don Borneo's Slave Caravan - 'Caravan' being a single broke-ass motor wagon - they've got all of three minutes to get their crap together.

Too bad the 'Don' is still sleeping off his fantastic drunk from last night. ] Damn it!

[ Kicks to the head aren't working. The most Badou can do was drag the fucker out of the front of the vehicle and prop him up, sack of potatoes style, behind the ramshackle portable 'slave pavilion' that is really a large box, some stripper poles, and an empty cage or two for flavor.

Today's wares?

Just him, hastily rubbing the worst of the wrinkles out of his clothes and buffing the old steel - who even uses steel these days? - collar around his neck. There would have been more, a half-decent set of cat-eared ladies and a hulking bear of a man who liked to do laundry, but some asshole had lost them all last night over a piss drunk game of cards.

So. Yeah. There's just Badou, standing on a box and waving at the first customers of the day while a moron in velvet snores loudly in the chair behind him. ] Uh...eheh, uh, good morning!

You're looking good today!

[ Smooth.

Idiot. ]

7

[strassenhund]

[Heine's really bad at this undercover thing. Really, really bad.

For one, he's already forgotten who it is he's supposed to be.

For two, he hates slave markets. They stink -- which is to say, everything in this fucking dump stinks, but slave markets in particular possess a distinct odor of acrid sweat and desperation that sets his teeth on edge. Not for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, he considers simply killing everyone and harvesting the goods after the fact.

The only problem being: He has no idea where the goods are. Why anyone thought sending him on a Win-These-Motherfuckers'-Trust kind of job was a good idea is beyond him. Not that it matters, because as of now, he's stuck shuffling into the market with an entourage of gangsters in cheap suits. For some reason they are very intent on convincing him that this filthy, cratered parking lot is the greatest economic institution since the Istanbul Grand Bazaar; he has a niggling suspicion it's related to the reason they've been kissing his ass since he's arrived yesterday. Seems like he's some important guy, someone like--

"Since you're looking to expand in the business, Herr Schneider, we thought it would interest you to pay a visit to our expansive marketplace of..."

Like a guy who traded slaves? Shit. His guide -- a smarmy balding dwarf with a greasy smile -- appears to be unaware of Heine's sudden stiffness; he continues to prattle on uselessly.

"...vendors like this--" Here he stumbles over his words and ceases producing noise for a moment, which is uncharacteristic enough that Heine actually looks up to see the stall he's pointing a hairy finger at. "--ah, currently sold out enterprise! But if you look over here at this one--"

Heine is not looking at that one. He's too busy staring at a shade of orange hair straight out of his distant past. For a moment, he's wondering if it's another one of those hallucinations that start creeping up when you haven't been sleeping for a couple weeks and everyone suddenly looks like various dead people you knew, but-- no. No. Even if this isn't real, he has to--

He jerks forward as if propelled by an unseen force. The entourage's reaction is slightly delayed. He can vaguely hear Slimeball chattering at him from the direction of his left elbow, following him towards the stall setup; more than ever, it's become background noise.]

[[ooc: Ahh, I couldn't decide whether to fully AU this or not! Uh, I'm open to memory loss hijinks/THIS IS NOT THE BADOU YOU'RE LOOKING FOR things too, if you'd rather they didn't immediately recognize each other. /o/;; Or whatever works for you, really~]]

Thorin Oakenshield || The Hobbit || Either || OTA

[breakofday]

Slave 7 ok?

[unexpected_adventures]

[[ooc: I thought being the burglar he is, he could have skills that Thorin does not, as his master.]]

Nickov // Original // OTA17+

[paintednoble]

The platform stood about five feet off the ground with a set of stairs on each of its four sides. It was large and meant to hold a lot of goods to be auctioned. Now though, there was just one left. Just an alien, bare to the skin, seven and half feet tall, with a prehensile tail currently curled weakly around his post, and blue from nose to tail tip. He'd been muzzled and chained there since dawn three days ago, the price on the board behind him getting changed twice a day, steadily dropping as interest in him waned.

Nickov slept on the stained platform all through the cold nights, getting a low zap in the ribs with a prod to wake him when the auction reopened. He got back on his feet as ordered, but leaned against his post, hungry, thirsty, and wanting desperately to get away from this living hell.

With his price so low now, interest was starting to gain again and questions were thrown to his keeper like "Why won't you discount him more for being scarred?" "How come he's got the shakes? Is he ill?"

Nickov found that he was indeed shaking as if chilled, but it was due to his body's lack of food or water the past couple days, though, being of a harsh desert world and inhuman, he could live another week without both.

"Is he hostile?" "Is he good in bed?" The same questions over and over just like when he was first brought out. Tired, he tried to doze off against the post only to be whacked in the high with the prod as a warning.

Nickov looked at the crowd, hoping someone would buy him soon.

[ooc: Come buy a young alien? All "masters" welcome. Open to all 17+, prefs in the journal, if alien anatomy doesn't bother you, let me know if you want smut or not.]

Ichigo Kurosaki | Bleach | Slave | M/M

[bitchigo]

[ He's not undercover and he's not an old timer - all the other options are great. He'd also be able to play the Master role, but only for the gift option. ]

Eliot Spencer (teen AU) - Leverage - slave

[minitreiver]

Options 1-3.

3

[inlibrismonstra]

Jakob wasn't the pickiest when it came to slaves. He had a tendency to burn through them a little too quickly for many preferences to ever make much difference. His tastes changed as often, too, which made each trip to the slave markets a new experience. Once he had paid women for the things he got from these markets, but while slaves cost a pretty copper more, they were also delightfully non-existent. It made staying off the radar easier and if the moon came along and his other half decided to track them back down for another round- well..

The mess was easier to clean up the next morning.

Today he was looking for some new entertainment and the traders who saw him knew all too well better than to try and pass their best stock off on this man. He had a reputation among traders, and possibly among the few slaves who had been around long enough to see him come around.

The gentleman monster. A man who looked pleasant and friendly to those who saw him, but whose manners behind closed doors of a bedroom... could take drastic turns.

He paused before the trader keeping Eliot in hand, a tug of a suppressed smirk at the corner of his mouth.

"If you catch them any younger you will have to start hiring sitters."

Lindsey McDonald - Angel - either

[hart_or_hand]

Any except 4 for slave, 2, 5, or 7 for master.

7 for Master. I'm going to be mean because I deserve to be a little mean. XD

[golden_retriever]

They knew he had a history of escaping, so Eliot was bound up well, with chains locking his arms behind his back that were then tethered to the shackles on his feet and also linked through two rings in the cage that kept him in a proper kneeling position. They were the sturdy links too and the shackles infused with silver, such that the werewolf couldn't draw upon his strength to break the bonds.

And to stop his growling from scaring off the potential buyers, a gag was stuffed into his mouth.

His whole appearance spelled trouble, down to the fresh lash marks that decorated his otherwise naked back, but so did the sign that advertise he was a werewolf. There were always adventure seeking masters who wanted to tame this sort of pet, and Eliot could only hope he'd find one weak enough that he'll break their neck first before they could break him.

Joan Watson | Elementary | Master

[formersurgeon]

[mohinder_suresh]

((Would you be interested in Mohinder as the slave, starting with slave option #1 and then, once bought, she informs him that he'll be her pet, slave option #3 combined with #4, bodyguard (since he has super strength/agility)? Let me know and I'll write out the starter. :) ))

Kain Highwind | Final Fantasy IV/Dissidia 012

[dragoon_pride]

[Preference for him to be a slave.]

Alex Summers | X-Men: First Class | Slave | m/m

[getback]

Eliot Spencer (Were!AU) | Leverage | Slave | M/M preferred

[golden_retriever]

(( Any except for 1. ))