We enter Demoniques studio and find her worthless slave lazily dragging the broom across the floor, humming like an idiot. One look is enough to make our ****** boil. Demonique, utterly disgusted, grants me full permission to break him and teach him a real lesson.Without hesitation, we ****** him down onto the dirty floor, crushing him against it. He is no longer a man just a miserable rag under our feet. We begin spitting on him mercilessly, covering him with our contempt. Every drop that hits him reminds him that he is nothing. He has become the very floor he pretended to clean.But thats not enough. With Demoniques consent, I decide to truly wash him as he deserves drowning him under my golden shower. I soak him ruthlessly, watching him drown in shame. Motionless, powerless to resist, he knows his place is beneath us. I lean over him and whisper sharply: This is how a real floor gets washed, worm.Soaked, humiliated, and utterly broken, he remains there a living monument to our absolute supremacy.
