AYRT: Haha, no worries, I have replied to kinkmeme posts on my phone at work before as well, so I know how it goes XD
AWkward!Karen FTW. I could see her at one stage going 'I keep giving Matt orders when I don't want to, Foggy HELP' and he'd suggest doing what he did, like, giving Matt the one standing order that he *doesn't* have to do what she tells him if he doesn't want to. And maybe sometimes Matt is going to screw with her, after, going 'Make me', after she tells him to 'Oh god, shut up!' when they're joking around, and grinning, because they both know she *could*, but she *wouldn't*.
- also, I'm terrible and may have written that scene. I had the idea that maybe Matt tells her when he takes her home some variation of:
"But...you're not wearing a collar?"
"It's under my shirt," Matt says, and he sounds wary and...*embarrassed*? about it, which surprises Karena little. Because slaves...they don't get embarrassed, right? They can be ordered to walk around without clothes, and perform all sorts of tasks free people would cringe away from and refuse to do, so embarassment really can't feature in a slave's life too much. Can it?
Only she's never met a slave that acted quite like Matt did.
"Why?" she manages, mystified and then, adds before she can help herself, "Can I see it?"
Matt sighs, looking even more uncomfortable than previously, but obliges and pulls out a thin, red collar from under his shirt that seems more fit for a female slave than him. But it does have an official ID chip embedded, which clearly marks it as a genuine tag of ownership instead of a discardable fashion item. He lets it drop onto his chest where it hangs low, almost grazing the lower end of his pectoral muscles. "I can't exactly wear it visibly while I'm working," Matt says. "Foggy expects me to pull my own weight at the office, and there are too many things clients wouldn't trust a slave with. You can't really talk to free people either. They don't *listen*," Matt huffs and he sounds seriously frustrated for a moment, but then he apparently forces himself to relax again and takes a breath. "So, yeah. I wouldn't be much help to Foggy if I didn't pretend."
Karen nods, still slightly overwhelmed - the idea of a *slave* pretending to be a normal person and no one noticing is still a bit too much to compute, because slaves can't DO that, they're simply not *like* free people, right?! - but manages to gather enough of her brain to ask,
"But isn't that illegal?"
At this, Matt actually cracks a smile at her. "You *really* don't have much trust in our prowess as legal council, huh?"
"What? No!" Karen backpedals, feeling embarrassed, but Matt simply shakes his head, grinning a little even as he stows his collar out of sight again, below his shirt.
"To answer your question, no, isn't illegal. In NYC, there's actually no stipulation that collars have to be visible at all times. Of course, most owners are usually insistent that they are, to avoid confusion, but..." he trails off. But not Foggy, is the implied statement, and Karen gets that.
"I still have to tell somebody if somebody asks," Matt continues, putting away his coat and then proceeding to get out what looks like fresh sheets and a pillow from a closet. "Mostly we just do our best to make sure nobody does. And I still have to obey any orders given by free people, which I do. We're actually very careful about staying just this side of the legal line."
"Really. Wow." Karen manages, and then, because she *really* can't stop herself, “So, if I said ‘Make me a coffee’, as long as your owner doesn’t order you to do something else, you’d actually have to…?”
Matt, pausing throwing the sheets from his bed onto his couch, visibly stiffens. “Yes. I’d have to make you a coffee. Though I really would prefer to be asked instead of ordered. Sounds strange and eccentric, I know.”
The last remark is said with a wry twist to the words and a cynic quirk to his mouth, and Karen bites her lip. "I didn't mean..." she starts, then stops herself. "Sorry. I guess I don't know much about life as a slave. My family never had any. You're actually the first one I ever talked to."
(Matt briefly considers telling her 'Really? I'd never have guessed!' at this point, but wisely doesn't.)
"Believe it or not, we're not actually that different from free people," he says instead with a mild smile, and then turns to his kitchen counter. "So. Coffee?"
xxx
...aaand yeah, so after that conversation, when Karen is out with him, she'd maybe have assumed that the hiding of the collar has more to do with Matt wanting to appear professional in front of clients, so when they're going out somewhere, maybe fetching lunch while Foggy's back at the office and a friend of Karen's shows up -
xxx
xxx
“Yeah, he wears it under his shirt, you can just about see the outline if you know it’s there-“ Karen says, and then stops, because all of a sudden it hits her that maybe there’s a *reason* Matt wears the collar in a hidden place, not just at the office, but everywhere.
And that reason suddenly seems to become glaringly obvious.
“Oh my god, he’s gorgeous! Do you keep him as the office pet?” Felicity gasps and at the same time steps forward to run a hand over Matt’s torso and then reach up to ruffle his hair. And Karen can see how he startles at the contact and then seems to have to consciously control himself not to pull away, obviously uncomfortable with being touched.
“Eh, Felicity…”
“My god, his abs are rock-hard! Does he enjoy belly rubs? Do you? Do you?” she asks with a laugh, running her hand up and down Matt’s abdomen, her fingers moving like she’s trying to tickle him.
“Felicity, I don’t think he likes that,” Karen says, because even if she’s only known Matt for a few days, she’s already able to differentiate between his smiles, and the one he’s wearing right now, the thin-lipped, brittle one while he is being groped, is definitely not a genuine one.
“Nonsense,” Felicity waves her off. “Slaves love physical affection, they’re like dogs that way. Right?” She coos at Matt, running a fingertip below his chin. “Take off your shades, boy, I wanna see your pretty eyes.”
His shades. Karen freezes, because Matt almost never takes off his shades if he can help it, the only person she’s ever seen him remove them around has been Foggy, when it was just the two of them in one of their offices and her in the front room. When she asked him about it, Foggy told her that he thinks it was maybe one of Matt’s former ‘asshole owners’ that made him self-conscious about his unfocused gaze – ‘Don’t mind it when he wears them around you. I think it’s his own personal armour, he just needs it to be comfortable. Besides, I helped him pick them, so I take it as a compliment that he likes them so much’ he’d said, sounding faintly proud.
And now Felicity is about to strip them from him.
“No, Felicity, seriously-“
“Oh wow, serious doe eyes going on here! I can see why your boss would want him to keep those hidden, they’re as pretty as the rest of him.” Felicity turns to her, flashing a smitten grin while Matt just stands there, glasses in his hand, looking as awkward and tense as possible while still trying to keep his polite mask from slipping and Karen wants to be swallowed up by the floor. Felicity leans a bit closer. “Can I tell him to kiss me? Or would that be misuse of office material?” she giggles. “Although that’s what you really keep him around for, right?”
“I’m…I’m sorry, we really need to go. We’re already late,” Karen bursts out, at the same time grabbing Matt’s elbow and pulling him away from Felicity, back to her side. “Sorry, Feli, we’ll catch up another time, okay?”
“What? O…kay?” Felicity looks at her, a bit taken aback, eyes darting between her and Matt. “Did I say something wrong?”
Yes, Karen wants to shout, everything! but she doesn’t. Because she knows that about two weeks ago, she likely could have reacted the exact same (well. Maybe minus the kissing request) if a friend of hers had run into her with a seriously cute slave on her arm. She just never realized what it would be like to be that slave.
“No, no, it’s fine, we’re just really in a hurry. See you later!” she manages to force out and then drags Matt away with her as fast she dares go without worrying about making him stumble. They’ve made it almost twenty metres before Matt asks,
“Can we stop for a moment? If it’s alright, I’d like to put my shades back on.”
Karen almost freezes on the spot.
“Yes! Yes, of course, I forgot completely – sure. Yeah. Do that,” she says, releasing his arm again and standing awkwardly next to him while he adjusts his glasses.
“Matt. Matt, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to – it just slipped out, I didn’t think –“ she takes a few deep breaths and then tries to compose herself again. “So you don’t want anyone to know you’re a slave, no matter whether it’s at the office or on the street, huh?” she asks quietly as they set off again.
“Pretty much,” Matt replies, still sounding tight-lipped and walking slightly stiffly next to her. Neither of them is holding on to the other right now, Matt’s cane tapping his way out in front of him.
“I’m…I’m sorry. I thought you had just forgotten to pull your collar out. I didn’t realize…” she breaks herself off. “That was absolutely awful back there. I had no idea that was going to happen, I’m so, so sorry. I swear Felicity is usually so nice…”
Apparently, even if Matt can’t see on her face how absolutely horrible she feels right now, it also has to be showing in her voice, because he gives a slight huff that sounds more like wry amusement than actual anger at her. “I’ve been enslaved for about ten years now. Being made to take off my glasses is hardly the worst thing that happened to me during that time.”
And Karen feels like she’s taken another punch to the gut.
“Oh god. I didn’t...I never thought about….”
“Most people don’t. It’s easier that way,” Matt shrugs. “If it makes you feel better, nothing much has happened to me in the last five years, at least.”
Not since I’ve been owned by Foggy, is what this translates to, and Karen swallows.
“That’s…good. But still, the way she suddenly stopped treating you like a person-“ Karen breaks herself off and bites her lip. “I’m sorry. I swear I won’t ever tell anyone again. No one should have to go through this.” And, in a smaller voice, she adds, “Please don’t tell Foggy? He’d so fire me.”
Matt raises an eye brow. “You realize you simply have to officially order me to not tell him?”
Karen attempts a small, slightly strained smile. “Nice try. But you’re not gonna catch me doing that again, Mr Murdock. I learned my lesson the last time.”
Matt hmms thoughtfully at that reply. Karen holds her breath, counts the seconds, until…
“Right. In that case…would you mind guiding me again? It does make things easier.”
She lets out a breath of relief. “Sure.” She holds out her arm slightly for him to take. “You lead the way, I’ll make sure you don’t run into things.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan,” Matt replies, and they set off toward the precinct again. Karen tries not to notice the other slaves they pass as they keep walking, human pets on leashes, or trotting behind their owners like dogs, and she wonders whether Matt knows they’re there anyway.
She tugs him a little bit closer to her when they pass the slave markets. She slipped up once today, but she is Karen Page, and that is not going to happen to her again.
xxx
and because I'm a horrible person, YES, I want the party to be a DISASTER! XD And I'm also thinking, like, what if it was actually *Marci* to the rescue, for a minute, before the party gets broken up anyway? Like, I'm thinking, what if some drunk guy or girl spills a drink all over Matt's white shirt (who is sitting next to them on the sofa, obviously wishing to be anywhere else, but Foggy wants them to be there, right, so he'll just hold out a little longer) and then of course immediately paws at him with an ineffectual napkin, drunkenly giggling and apologizing - when they find his (now visible) collar and be like 'oh, wow, wait is that a collar?! God, I didn't even notice you're a slave, hahah, can you believe it? Take that shirt off, I want to see the rest of you!' and now are already halfway on top of him on the couch. Matt is basically frozen in panic, having wild flashbacks of his training - 'hold still unless otherwise instructed. Make noises of enthusiasm if the person playing with you does not order you to do otherwise' - and, because with Foggy he has regained most facets of his old life, he also has flashbacks of his *other* training, which would include tossing his attacker halfway across the room. And in between that, he can't do anything but feel his lungs constrict as his shirt is torn open and his chest is bared, and more people notice what is going on, and come over and there's *hands* on him, like sharks at a buffet, and he wants to call over to Foggy, *help me*, but nothing is coming out, and his shades are gone, so he closes his eyes, trying to get himself to *DO* something, anything - when there's another gasp somewhere above the couch, and it' from the only other familiar voice in the room.
"What the...Murdock?!"
xxx
...I fear I reached the character limit again. Er, on to the next post!^^°
Re: Slavery AU; More Ideas HALP/2
AWkward!Karen FTW. I could see her at one stage going 'I keep giving Matt orders when I don't want to, Foggy HELP' and he'd suggest doing what he did, like, giving Matt the one standing order that he *doesn't* have to do what she tells him if he doesn't want to. And maybe sometimes Matt is going to screw with her, after, going 'Make me', after she tells him to 'Oh god, shut up!' when they're joking around, and grinning, because they both know she *could*, but she *wouldn't*.
- also, I'm terrible and may have written that scene. I had the idea that maybe Matt tells her when he takes her home some variation of:
"But...you're not wearing a collar?"
"It's under my shirt," Matt says, and he sounds wary and...*embarrassed*? about it, which surprises Karena little. Because slaves...they don't get embarrassed, right? They can be ordered to walk around without clothes, and perform all sorts of tasks free people would cringe away from and refuse to do, so embarassment really can't feature in a slave's life too much. Can it?
Only she's never met a slave that acted quite like Matt did.
"Why?" she manages, mystified and then, adds before she can help herself, "Can I see it?"
Matt sighs, looking even more uncomfortable than previously, but obliges and pulls out a thin, red collar from under his shirt that seems more fit for a female slave than him. But it does have an official ID chip embedded, which clearly marks it as a genuine tag of ownership instead of a discardable fashion item. He lets it drop onto his chest where it hangs low, almost grazing the lower end of his pectoral muscles.
"I can't exactly wear it visibly while I'm working," Matt says. "Foggy expects me to pull my own weight at the office, and there are too many things clients wouldn't trust a slave with. You can't really talk to free people either. They don't *listen*," Matt huffs and he sounds seriously frustrated for a moment, but then he apparently forces himself to relax again and takes a breath. "So, yeah. I wouldn't be much help to Foggy if I didn't pretend."
Karen nods, still slightly overwhelmed - the idea of a *slave* pretending to be a normal person and no one noticing is still a bit too much to compute, because slaves can't DO that, they're simply not *like* free people, right?! - but manages to gather enough of her brain to ask,
"But isn't that illegal?"
At this, Matt actually cracks a smile at her. "You *really* don't have much trust in our prowess as legal council, huh?"
"What? No!" Karen backpedals, feeling embarrassed, but Matt simply shakes his head, grinning a little even as he stows his collar out of sight again, below his shirt.
"To answer your question, no, isn't illegal. In NYC, there's actually no stipulation that collars have to be visible at all times. Of course, most owners are usually insistent that they are, to avoid confusion, but..." he trails off. But not Foggy, is the implied statement, and Karen gets that.
"I still have to tell somebody if somebody asks," Matt continues, putting away his coat and then proceeding to get out what looks like fresh sheets and a pillow from a closet. "Mostly we just do our best to make sure nobody does. And I still have to obey any orders given by free people, which I do. We're actually very careful about staying just this side of the legal line."
"Really. Wow." Karen manages, and then, because she *really* can't stop herself, “So, if I said ‘Make me a coffee’, as long as your owner doesn’t order you to do something else, you’d actually have to…?”
Matt, pausing throwing the sheets from his bed onto his couch, visibly stiffens. “Yes. I’d have to make you a coffee. Though I really would prefer to be asked instead of ordered. Sounds strange and eccentric, I know.”
The last remark is said with a wry twist to the words and a cynic quirk to his mouth, and Karen bites her lip. "I didn't mean..." she starts, then stops herself. "Sorry. I guess I don't know much about life as a slave. My family never had any. You're actually the first one I ever talked to."
(Matt briefly considers telling her 'Really? I'd never have guessed!' at this point, but wisely doesn't.)
"Believe it or not, we're not actually that different from free people," he says instead with a mild smile, and then turns to his kitchen counter. "So. Coffee?"
xxx
...aaand yeah, so after that conversation, when Karen is out with him, she'd maybe have assumed that the hiding of the collar has more to do with Matt wanting to appear professional in front of clients, so when they're going out somewhere, maybe fetching lunch while Foggy's back at the office and a friend of Karen's shows up -
xxx
xxx
“Yeah, he wears it under his shirt, you can just about see the outline if you know it’s there-“ Karen says, and then stops, because all of a sudden it hits her that maybe there’s a *reason* Matt wears the collar in a hidden place, not just at the office, but everywhere.
And that reason suddenly seems to become glaringly obvious.
“Oh my god, he’s gorgeous! Do you keep him as the office pet?” Felicity gasps and at the same time steps forward to run a hand over Matt’s torso and then reach up to ruffle his hair. And Karen can see how he startles at the contact and then seems to have to consciously control himself not to pull away, obviously uncomfortable with being touched.
“Eh, Felicity…”
“My god, his abs are rock-hard! Does he enjoy belly rubs? Do you? Do you?” she asks with a laugh, running her hand up and down Matt’s abdomen, her fingers moving like she’s trying to tickle him.
“Felicity, I don’t think he likes that,” Karen says, because even if she’s only known Matt for a few days, she’s already able to differentiate between his smiles, and the one he’s wearing right now, the thin-lipped, brittle one while he is being groped, is definitely not a genuine one.
“Nonsense,” Felicity waves her off. “Slaves love physical affection, they’re like dogs that way. Right?” She coos at Matt, running a fingertip below his chin. “Take off your shades, boy, I wanna see your pretty eyes.”
His shades. Karen freezes, because Matt almost never takes off his shades if he can help it, the only person she’s ever seen him remove them around has been Foggy, when it was just the two of them in one of their offices and her in the front room. When she asked him about it, Foggy told her that he thinks it was maybe one of Matt’s former ‘asshole owners’ that made him self-conscious about his unfocused gaze – ‘Don’t mind it when he wears them around you. I think it’s his own personal armour, he just needs it to be comfortable. Besides, I helped him pick them, so I take it as a compliment that he likes them so much’ he’d said, sounding faintly proud.
And now Felicity is about to strip them from him.
“No, Felicity, seriously-“
“Oh wow, serious doe eyes going on here! I can see why your boss would want him to keep those hidden, they’re as pretty as the rest of him.” Felicity turns to her, flashing a smitten grin while Matt just stands there, glasses in his hand, looking as awkward and tense as possible while still trying to keep his polite mask from slipping and Karen wants to be swallowed up by the floor. Felicity leans a bit closer. “Can I tell him to kiss me? Or would that be misuse of office material?” she giggles. “Although that’s what you really keep him around for, right?”
“I’m…I’m sorry, we really need to go. We’re already late,” Karen bursts out, at the same time grabbing Matt’s elbow and pulling him away from Felicity, back to her side. “Sorry, Feli, we’ll catch up another time, okay?”
“What? O…kay?” Felicity looks at her, a bit taken aback, eyes darting between her and Matt. “Did I say something wrong?”
Yes, Karen wants to shout, everything! but she doesn’t. Because she knows that about two weeks ago, she likely could have reacted the exact same (well. Maybe minus the kissing request) if a friend of hers had run into her with a seriously cute slave on her arm. She just never realized what it would be like to be that slave.
“No, no, it’s fine, we’re just really in a hurry. See you later!” she manages to force out and then drags Matt away with her as fast she dares go without worrying about making him stumble. They’ve made it almost twenty metres before Matt asks,
“Can we stop for a moment? If it’s alright, I’d like to put my shades back on.”
Karen almost freezes on the spot.
“Yes! Yes, of course, I forgot completely – sure. Yeah. Do that,” she says, releasing his arm again and standing awkwardly next to him while he adjusts his glasses.
“Matt. Matt, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to – it just slipped out, I didn’t think –“ she takes a few deep breaths and then tries to compose herself again. “So you don’t want anyone to know you’re a slave, no matter whether it’s at the office or on the street, huh?” she asks quietly as they set off again.
“Pretty much,” Matt replies, still sounding tight-lipped and walking slightly stiffly next to her. Neither of them is holding on to the other right now, Matt’s cane tapping his way out in front of him.
“I’m…I’m sorry. I thought you had just forgotten to pull your collar out. I didn’t realize…” she breaks herself off. “That was absolutely awful back there. I had no idea that was going to happen, I’m so, so sorry. I swear Felicity is usually so nice…”
Apparently, even if Matt can’t see on her face how absolutely horrible she feels right now, it also has to be showing in her voice, because he gives a slight huff that sounds more like wry amusement than actual anger at her. “I’ve been enslaved for about ten years now. Being made to take off my glasses is hardly the worst thing that happened to me during that time.”
And Karen feels like she’s taken another punch to the gut.
“Oh god. I didn’t...I never thought about….”
“Most people don’t. It’s easier that way,” Matt shrugs. “If it makes you feel better, nothing much has happened to me in the last five years, at least.”
Not since I’ve been owned by Foggy, is what this translates to, and Karen swallows.
“That’s…good. But still, the way she suddenly stopped treating you like a person-“ Karen breaks herself off and bites her lip. “I’m sorry. I swear I won’t ever tell anyone again. No one should have to go through this.” And, in a smaller voice, she adds, “Please don’t tell Foggy? He’d so fire me.”
Matt raises an eye brow. “You realize you simply have to officially order me to not tell him?”
Karen attempts a small, slightly strained smile. “Nice try. But you’re not gonna catch me doing that again, Mr Murdock. I learned my lesson the last time.”
Matt hmms thoughtfully at that reply. Karen holds her breath, counts the seconds, until…
“Right. In that case…would you mind guiding me again? It does make things easier.”
She lets out a breath of relief. “Sure.” She holds out her arm slightly for him to take. “You lead the way, I’ll make sure you don’t run into things.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan,” Matt replies, and they set off toward the precinct again. Karen tries not to notice the other slaves they pass as they keep walking, human pets on leashes, or trotting behind their owners like dogs, and she wonders whether Matt knows they’re there anyway.
She tugs him a little bit closer to her when they pass the slave markets. She slipped up once today, but she is Karen Page, and that is not going to happen to her again.
xxx
and because I'm a horrible person, YES, I want the party to be a DISASTER! XD And I'm also thinking, like, what if it was actually *Marci* to the rescue, for a minute, before the party gets broken up anyway? Like, I'm thinking, what if some drunk guy or girl spills a drink all over Matt's white shirt (who is sitting next to them on the sofa, obviously wishing to be anywhere else, but Foggy wants them to be there, right, so he'll just hold out a little longer) and then of course immediately paws at him with an ineffectual napkin, drunkenly giggling and apologizing - when they find his (now visible) collar and be like 'oh, wow, wait is that a collar?! God, I didn't even notice you're a slave, hahah, can you believe it? Take that shirt off, I want to see the rest of you!' and now are already halfway on top of him on the couch. Matt is basically frozen in panic, having wild flashbacks of his training - 'hold still unless otherwise instructed. Make noises of enthusiasm if the person playing with you does not order you to do otherwise' - and, because with Foggy he has regained most facets of his old life, he also has flashbacks of his *other* training, which would include tossing his attacker halfway across the room. And in between that, he can't do anything but feel his lungs constrict as his shirt is torn open and his chest is bared, and more people notice what is going on, and come over and there's *hands* on him, like sharks at a buffet, and he wants to call over to Foggy, *help me*, but nothing is coming out, and his shades are gone, so he closes his eyes, trying to get himself to *DO* something, anything - when there's another gasp somewhere above the couch, and it' from the only other familiar voice in the room.
"What the...Murdock?!"
xxx
...I fear I reached the character limit again. Er, on to the next post!^^°