1276. The Slave Auction Meme

[fallen_rosiel]

❧ 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

Comments

Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | OTA

[alotofadderall]

~

5/2 for her?

[emplehenoemos]

Or do you wanna try to work something in our other universe?

[alotofadderall]

[Alternate works fine. Sounds good to me! :]

[emplehenoemos]

[Daddy called her into the sitting room about 20 minutes ago. She knows why she's here, of course. She's a Martin and she's now 17. Which means just like her Mom and her Dad and her older sister before her, she's going to receieve her first 'toy', as Daddy likes to call them.

Which sucks, actually.

She doesn't want to train anybody. If she wanted someone to follow her around, someone she'd be responsible for, she'd just have a baby. But of course, Donald Martin isn't content to just let his daughter sit, slaveless, in her room with her biology texts and her chemistry set. Nope. Those things have to be hidden away in a little study so that she doesn't embarrass her family by intimidating away a husband with her intelligence

[alotofadderall]

[Stiles enters the sitting room with his head down, new, shiny collar secured around his neck. Fresh from the slave trainers, healed up from their disciplinary actions and ready for whoever his new Master was. Frankly, Stiles had gotten over the whole 'bitter-slave' thing in favor of finding a way to survive.

He's naked, naturally, presented for the new Master. The man who's bought him is smiling at someone, offering them the remote to his collar, but Stiles won't look up until he's told to, forcing himself not to curl inward and hide himself. Survive. That's all he can do, now.]

[emplehenoemos]

[...He's skinny. That's the first thing that Lydia notices. He's skinny and he won't look at her. He doesn't look like he's ever been owned before either because the skin beneath the brand tattooed on his ankle looks like it's never been burned before. ...She's not going to look below the waist. She is not.

Her Dad is smiling and she just wants to hit him. How is owning another human something to smile about? Would he smile if she got sold across the street to the Whittemores?] Leave please. [She tells her father, fiddling with the remote. Once he's gone, she approaches him, standing just a foot apart.]

...Hi. [Should she...tell him to look at her? She wants to see his face, his eyes, but he's probably scared too, and...forcing him isn't fair.]

[alotofadderall]

[He shouldn't do it. The voice is female, and she has his remote now - she could easily punish him. This could be a trick; it had happened in training. But Stiles risks a glance up, wondering if he's allowed to look at her, if he's allowed to speak.

At this point, forcing him is completely fair. He's her property, now.]

[emplehenoemos]

[Holding out the remote, she makes sure he sees her put it into the pocket of her dress. She doesn't know him, after all. He might flip out if she takes the batteries out or something. At least this way, she's protected but he doesn't have to be afraid of her either.]

I'm Lydia.

[alotofadderall]

[Stiles takes the liberty of staring when she puts the remote away and doesn't punish him for looking. She could still easily smack him around; he wouldn't fight her. That had been beaten out him a long time ago.

Lydia is pretty; Stiles doesn't know her, but she has kind eyes and it's a little comforting. Still, she could turn murderous on him any second. Slaves weren't usually afforded kindness.

He doesn't say anything for a long moment, then bows, low, ignoring his nudity and the way the collar pulls at his skin.] ...Master.

[emplehenoemos]

[Lydia huffs out a breath. She doesn't want to be called Master. But if her Dad heard anything otherwise, if anyone did, there's no telling what would happen to the both of them. She's not really worried about being too nice and getting overrun, since she has custody of the remote to his collar.]

...Yeah, I guess, just-. [She glances back to make sure the door is closed, then turns to look back at Stiles.]

There's no one else here. You can call me Lydia.

[alotofadderall]

...Master Lydia. [Stiles slowly stands back up, keeping the curiosity out of his expression, just letting his obedience show. He has no desire to challenge his Master and get punished for it.]

[emplehenoemos]

[Another huff.]

Can we at least drop it down to Ms. Lydia? [Because honestly? It looks like he might be older than her.] How old are you? What's your name?

[alotofadderall]

Ms. Lydia. [Stiles repeats obediently, tensing a little at the huff. It sounds a little irritated, is she irritated? He hopes his skittishness doesn't show and anger her.] 17.

You... [Stiles hesitates, but ventures to ask the question anyway.] ...You don't want to name me...?

[emplehenoemos]

...How long have you been 17? [Because she's only been 17 for 3 days and if her suspicions are correct, owning him, telling him what to do will only feel weirder (although Allison's slave is older than her too).

She blinks.] ...I'm supposed to? You're 17, you...you already have a name, don't you?

[alotofadderall]

August. [Stiles answers quietly, folding his hands together nervously. He nods, gaze flickering away and back up.] I do. I...thought you'd want to. Name me, that is.

[emplehenoemos]

So you are older than me. [Lydia nods, folding her arms and scuffing her feet against the floor. She doesn't want to name him. She doesn't want to own him or...or any of that.]

Just tell me your name.