"Did you just contradict me?"
Uh oh.
"N-no, Sir. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Sir."
"Take off your pants, dumbshit."
You do so. You aren't a real employee here. You just impersonate one as per his request. You dress up in a suit and everyone knows you're his assistant. He has many assistants but you are his personal assistant. A glorified whore, really, that he can bring into his office.
"So," he continues. "My fag has an opinion about something. You don't like the way I talk to you, faggot loser? You don't like me saying that I'm going to fire half the staff? Hmm? It's my company, you DUMBSHIT!"
"I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry, Sir. I'm sorry. I just felt so bad for them. For the people." You wince. This isn't going well. He blows cigar smoke in your face.
He hits you so hard on your ass you yelp.
"Take your clothes off. All of them." He locks the door. You do so. You are in an office full of professional men and women and you pretend to be one of them so that your "boss" who is really your Master can dehumanize you from the comfort of his own office. "Bow to me," he tells you. You do so, as you are completely under HIS control. "Who's a faggot loser? Is it you, faggot loser?"
"Yes, Sir. I am a faggot loser. Sir."
"Kiss my holy shoes, faggot loser." He tells you this like it's elementary, like you should have guessed that is what you should have been doing. It's so obvious that's where you belong, kissing the shoes and feet of another man, worshiping the ground he walks on.
"Stuff your suit into your mouth," he indicates, and gets a wooden paddle from his expensive desk. He comes over, blows cigar smoke in your face again. He smirks. Then the paddling begins. WHACK1 WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Seven is his lucky number. Your tears stain the suit. You realize you're lucky because you will always have a place underneath him. So many people struggle in this life trying to find their place, but you will never struggle to do so ever again.
You will never rise up. You will never take your place among normal men. You will get beaten when your Master wills it, and you will accept his orders as holy words given to you from above.
You are a slave now and forever, and you're lucky to be one.
MY NAME IS MASTER DJ. I AM A CASHMASTER, AND I HAVE ENSLAVED HUNDREDS OF MEN OVER THE YEARS. THEY ALL BOW TO ME. THEY WORSHIP ME. THEY CRAVE ME. THEY LOVE ME. I DESERVE IT ALL.
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ALL FAGS LOVE ME. ALL FAGS WORSHIP ME. ALL FAGS CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF ME. YOU CRAVING SOME ORDERS, YOU LOWLY MAGGOT? HUH? COME MESSAGE ME ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SERVE. MASTER DJ IS HERE, AND I’M BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY.
