"I'm sorry, Sir.. But I can't do it." You say, trying to stand your ground while appearing sorry in the hope that you won't be too severely punished. "My body's so sore and stiff after spending the last coupl eof days serving Brendon, you see.."
Josh looks down at you with a calm but stern expression, and slowly takes a sip from his beer.
"Let's get one thing straight, little man. I own you now. If I don't care that you're sore or tired, you forget that you are. I'm going to bend you to my will whether you survive it or not, but you WILL be my obedient little toy, even if it's the last thing you ever do.."
At that, Josh reaches over, squeezes you in his icey-cold palm so hard that your muscles seem to cry out in pain, and..
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