My office is full of a bunch of spineless men running around doing errands for me. It’s hard to keep track of so many Beta servants, willing to overlook their terrible jobs just to work for a hot boss. You’re just like the rest of them, if not worse, nothing but another one of my insects working yourself to exhaustion for your queen. Being so busy running an empire, I don’t have the time to remember your name, so I refer to you as my “Desk Boy.” That’s essentially the entirety of your job description. The boy he waits at my desk for whatever task I demand. It might be getting me coffee or even answering my phone, but I also need my Desk Boy to be more hands on. You will do anything I say, even if it means rubbing my tired feet. Men will do anything to get ahead in this world, even if it means being used by their superior. You will earn your promotion by worshipping my beautifully sweaty pantyhose and feet. I’ll pop off my designer high heels and rest my perfect feet on your back. Maybe your job title should include “Foot Stool” too.
