A Master/Slave Meme

[fishbox]

Congratulations! You are now a slave/master.


Master:
What kind of master are you?
What brought you into possession of a slave?
What will you have your slave do for you?


Slave:
Why are you a slave?
How easily will you adjust to this new situation in life? ie, what kind of slave are you?


Run wild and have fun! RNG is not needed~

Comments

[godfreyupir]

[ Roman isn't used to not being able to talk his way out of things. Peter really the only person he'd ever met where wealth and privilege meant next to nothing. If anything, it had been a liability.

His slender wrists shift in the handcuffs and he looks at her through fluttered lashes at that remark. He shrugs thin shoulders because there's nothing he can say. It's not a question, but there's still that kneejerk reaction to want to deny it. Peter makes him vulnerable, insecure.

For all his wealth, his power, for the fact that he could have almost anyone with a look, the fact that Peter had left chipped at that smooth exterior. He wasn't pretty enough, he was ugly; feelings that curled acidic and bitter inside him. Damaged, despite how cool and in control he tried to seem, even under pressure. ]

You seem like a professional, so I'll assume it involves more than just handcuffs and pleasant conversation.

[ He arched an eyebrow as he met her gaze. He refused to be scared. He'd faced a monster that hid in the guise of a teenaged girl before. And, he was fairly sure that Irene wasn't going to kill him. That should make her less terrifying.

It didn't. Roman was quietly sure she was going to try and break him. And he wasn't nearly as controlled as he pretended. ]

[herrin]

[ Irene laughed, comfort evident in the gesture. It didn't bother her that he was so obviously uncomfortable, or that he was in handcuffs while she was able to roam free. Or at least, if it did, she was keeping that part of her well under-wraps while dealing with Roman.

After all, this was just another part of her job. It came with the territory. ]

A professional, oh yes. You have that correct. But a professional what? [ Her customary smirk is well in place as she strides closer to him, before walking a careful circle around him, just outside of his range of motion. A game, she was playing a game with him and surprisingly .. she hadn't had this much fun in ages. ]

Shall I tell you? Or shall I make you guess? [ Crack! She slaps the riding crop against her hand again, before resting it gently on his shoulder, completing her circle around him. Caressingly, carefully, she moved the leather up and down the side of his neck, tilting her head to one side to admire the contrast against his skin. ]

Come now. Surely you must have a theory.