As Chris Andrews knelt in the corner of the office, his eyes darted between Master Tyler and Master Travis, both of whom were engrossed in their work. The room was filled with the familiar hum of computers and the soft glow of monitors. Despite the fact that this was now their space, it held a new air of dominance and control. The desk where Chris once sat was now occupied by Master Tyler, his posture exuding confidence and authority. In another part of the room, Master Travis sat at a smaller desk, his focus intense as he pored over papers and documents.

It was humiliating for Chris to be reduced to this state, but he knew better than to let it show. Instead, he remained silent and attentive, his gaze never wavering from his Masters. He could feel their eyes on him from time to time, assessing his obedience and dedication. The slave knew that his value lay in his ability to anticipate their needs and desires before they even had to ask.

As the day progressed, Chris found himself moving seamlessly between various tasks. At one moment, he would be fetching coffee or preparing lunch for the two men, and the next, he would be kneeling on the floor in Master Tyler's and  Master Travis's office, reviewing financial reports or offering advice on technical matters. His expertise was put to good use, even as he was forced into a subservient role.

Chris remembered the days when he was the one giving orders, when he was the boss and everyone else followed his lead. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but the memory still stung. Now, as he knelt on the floor of the office, he realized that the roles had reversed. He was no longer in charge; he was now nothing more than a slave to the very employees he once considered his subordinates.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Chris knew he had to accept it. He could no longer deny the reality of his situation. As his new Masters, Master Tyler and Master Travis had every right to expect his complete and unquestioning obedience.

The other employees, now promoted in his absence, eyed him warily as he knelt at their feet. They knew what had happened, and they knew that Chris was no longer the powerful figure he once was. They treated him with a mixture of pity and contempt, making it clear that they were now in charge and that he was little more than a servant to them.

Chris had become accustomed to kneeling, his head bowed low as he looked up from beneath his thick thighs. He wore only a pair of shorts, his legs exposed and vulnerable in the cool air of the office. His feet were bare. It was a constant reminder of his new station in life.

As he knelt there, he would occasionally exchange words with the other employees who now held power over him. They would speak condescendingly, demanding respect and obedience from the once-mighty Chris. He would nod his head in reply, his blond hair swaying gently with the motion. It was a far cry from the days when he issued commands and expected them to be obeyed without question.

Chris was in the middle of a conversation with one of his former colleagues when he was interrupted by a sharp voice from across the room. It was Jason, one of the new managers, who had been promoted after Chris's fall from grace. Jason pointed at a stack of papers on his desk and commanded, "Get those reports ready for presentation tomorrow, slave."

The words stung, but Chris knew there was no point in protesting. He bowed his head in submission and began to crawl across the floor on his hands and knees. As he made his way toward Jason's desk, the other employees watched with a mixture of amusement and disdain. They had never seen their former boss in such a humiliating position before.

When Chris finally reached Jason's desk, he paused and looked up at the other manager, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Yes, sir," he whispered. "I'll get right on it." With that, he used his hands to flip open the top drawer of Jason's desk and began searching for a place to kneel while he worked on the reports.

As Chris knelt on the floor, his eyes darting back and forth between the reports and the computer screen, he hesitated for a moment. He wanted to ask Jason a question about one of the figures in the financial statements, but he didn't want to appear incompetent or disobedient. After a few seconds of internal debate, he decided to take the risk.

Carefully, he raised his head slightly, meeting Jason's eyes for the first time since he'd been given the task. "Um, excuse me, Sir," he stammered. "I was just wondering... which quarter's figures should I use for this line item?"

Jason's expression turned cold and dismissive. "The second quarter, of course. Don't you know anything?" he snapped.

Chris felt a sting of humiliation, but he forced himself to keep his head down and his tone respectful. "Yes, Sir. I apologize for the confusion. I'll make sure to use the correct figures." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "If you need any help with anything else, Sir, I'm here to serve you."

Jason regarded him coldly for a moment before nodding. "Just do your job, slave. And make sure you get those reports done by the end of the day. I don't want to have to deal with you again tomorrow." The words were harsh, but Chris knew there was no point in arguing. He turned his attention back to the reports, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he worked to complete his task and avoid further confrontation with Jason.

Even though Chris was no longer in control, he was still technically the owner of the company. As such, he still signed the paychecks for every employee, including Jason and the other managers. It was a small measure of power that he still possessed, and he clung to it with a desperate determination.

He worked tirelessly throughout the day, carefully reviewing each report and ensuring that they were accurate and presentable. With a deep breath, he crawled over to Jason's desk, his heart racing with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

Carefully, he placed the completed reports on the desk, making sure they were perfectly aligned and easily visible to Jason. Then, he bowed his head in submission, his hands clasped behind his back. "I've finished the reports, Sir," he said, his voice quiet but steady. "I've also prepared the paychecks for everyone. They're in the usual place."

Jason looked down at Chris, surprise flickering in his eyes. For a moment, he seemed uncertain how to respond. Finally, he sneered and said, "Very well, slave. You may return to your position." With that, he turned his attention back to the reports, clearly dismissing Chris.

Chris hesitated for a moment before turning away, his cheeks flushing with shame. He knew that he still had some influence over the company and its employees, but he also knew that his power was tenuous at best. He would have to tread carefully if he wanted to retain any semblance of control.

As he made his way back to his kneeling position by the side of the room, he couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before someone else challenged his authority and took everything away from him once more. The thought filled him with a deep sense of dread and despair.

Jason looked over the reports with a critical eye, his expression growing increasingly grim as he found error after error. His fingers tightened around the leash attached to Chris's collar, yanking Chris head upward and forcing him to meet his gaze. "You idiot!" Jason shouted, spittle flying from his lips. "Do you even know how to do your job?"

Chris winced at the harsh words, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Master Jason," he whimpered. "I'll do better next time, I promise."

Jason's grip on the leash slackened slightly, but he didn't release it entirely. "See that you do," he growled. "And from now on, you'd better make sure that everything is perfect, or you'll regret it." With a final, dismissive shove, he sent Chris stumbling back to his kneeling position.

Chris rubbed his throbbing throat, the sting of humiliation and fear a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew that he had to be careful from now on, that one slip-up could cost him everything.

As the day wore on, Chris found himself growing more and more lonely and desperate for some form of companionship. He couldn't help but notice the hushed whispers and excited murmurs of the employees around him, discussing the latest video game release,and he found himself yearning to join in on the conversation once more.

Tentatively, he began to edge closer to a group of employees who were gathered around Jason's desk, their eyes glued to the computer screens as they discussed the game's various features and strategies. He waited for a moment when Jason was distracted, then cleared his throat, hoping to catch the group's attention. "Um, excuse me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the computers. "I was just wondering... have any of you guys had a chance to play the new game yet?"

The group fell silent for a moment, their gazes shifting uneasily between Chris and Jason. Then, one of the managers, a tall and intimidating woman named Amy, spoke up. "You know the rules, slave," she said coldly. "We don't talk about that sort of thing in front of you."

Chris's heart sank as the words struck him like a physical blow. He felt a sting of tears in his eyes, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. "Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

As Chris felt the hot sting of tears welling up in his eyes, he forced himself to meet Amy's gaze defiantly. "But I am the owner of this business!" he exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have every right to know about these things!"

The words hung in the air for a moment, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the computer monitors. The other employees exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to react. Finally, Amy's expression hardened, and she leaned in close to Chris, her voice dripping with contempt. "Not for long, slave," she growled. "

Chris swallowed hard, his throat feeling tight and constricted. He tried to maintain his composure, but he couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear run down his spine. "Yes, ma'am," he managed to croak. "I understand."

As Chris retreated back to his original position, Jason's gaze never left him. The new manager had been watching Chris's exchange with the employees closely, and it seemed to have angered him. "slave," Jason snapped, "get back to work. The report isn't going to finish itself." He gestured towards a computer terminal in the corner. "And don't bother asking anyone for help. They're not allowed to speak to you."

Chris's heart skipped a beat as he hurried over to the terminal, his movements awkward and hesitant. He knew that Jason was testing him, trying to see how far he could push him before he broke. But Chris refused to give in so easily. With a deep breath, he focused on the task at hand, determined to complete the report and prove his worth to Jason.

As he worked, he couldn't help but notice the other employees watching him, their expressions a mixture of pity and contempt. He tried to ignore them, to focus on the words on the screen, but the weight of their judgment made it difficult to concentrate. With each passing minute, the tension in the room grew thicker, the air charged with the threat of punishment should he fail.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Chris finished the report and saved it to the server. He walked on his hands and knees slowly, his back straight and his head held high, looked up at  Jason. "The report is complete, sir," he said, his voice steady and firm. "I took the liberty of including some strategies for improving our sales and customer engagement. If you'd like, I could present them to you now."

Jason's face twisted into a sneer, and he took a step closer to Chris, looming over him like a predator. "Shut up, slave," he hissed. "I don't want to hear your pathetic ideas. You're here to do as you're told, and nothing more."

He gestured towards the corner of the room. "Go to your place," he growled. "And stay there until I tell you otherwise."

Chris swallowed hard, feeling a sting of humiliation as he obeyed Jason's command. He walked on his hands and knees to the corner, his back arching as he struggled to maintain his balance and dignity. As he reached the corner,  he slowly lowered himself down onto it, assuming his designated slave position. His heart raced as he waited for Jason's next command, his muscles tense and ready for whatever might come.

Chris couldn't help but overhear Jason speaking to Tyler and Travis. They were discussing the severity of his punishment, and Jason seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. "Can you believe how pathetic he is?" Jason asked, his voice laced with disdain. "He thinks he can still come up with ideas and improve our company? He's nothing but a worthless slave now."

Chris felt his face flush with anger and shame, but he forced himself to remain still and silent. He knew that any reaction on his part would only lead to further humiliation and punishment. He closed his eyes tightly, willing himself not to cry, as the sound of Jason's voice and the mocking laughter of Tyler and Travis filled the room.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jason turned his attention back to Chris. "Move it slave," he growled. "It's time for your punishment." Chris hesitated, his body trembling with fear and anticipation. He slowly walked on his hands and knees feeling the weight of Jason's gaze burning into the back of his neck. "Follow me," Jason commanded, leading Chris to a nearby closet.

As they entered the cramped space, Chris couldn't help but shiver in dread. The closet was dimly lit and musty, with stacks of boxes and old furniture piled haphazardly around the room. Jason shut the door behind them, sealing them inside. "You've been a disobedient little slave," Jason hissed. "And now it's time to pay the price."

Chris's heart raced as he waited for whatever punishment Jason had in store for him. The air in the closet felt thick and oppressive, and the smell of dust and mold made it hard to breathe. He forced himself to stay still and silent, hoping that this would appease Jason's anger.

But it was clear that Jason wasn't satisfied with simply humiliating him. He grabbed a handful of Chris's hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to look up into Jason's angry face. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" Jason growled. "You think you can still think for yourself? Well, I'm going to show you how stupid you really are." With that, he released Chris's hair and stepped back, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

Chris's heart sank as he realized that Jason was about to physically hurt him. He tried to brace himself for the pain, but he couldn't help but whimper softly as Jason advanced on him, fists clenched. "Don't scream," Jason warned him, his voice cold and merciless. "Or I'll make it worse."

The first punch landed, a sharp pain exploding in Chris's ribs. He gasped for air, his body twisting in agony as another punch followed, then another. His vision blurred with tears, and he could taste blood in his mouth. With each blow, Jason seemed to grow stronger and more vicious, relishing in Chris's pain and humiliation.

After what felt like an eternity of brutal punishment, Jason finally stopped, his chest heaving with exertion. Chris lay curled on the floor, barely able to breathe, his entire body aching. He felt like he had been reduced to nothing more than an animal, a slave to Jason's twisted desires.

"Now, slave," Jason said, his voice laced with satisfaction. "It's time to prove your worth." He held out a small piece of paper, bearing what looked like a complicated mathematical equation. "Solve this," he commanded. "And maybe I'll let you live another day."

Chris stared up at Jason, his eyes wide with disbelief and pain. He couldn't believe that Jason would expect him to think clearly after what he had just been through. But he knew there was no other choice. Slowly, painfully, he forced himself to sit up and take the paper from Jason. He examined the equation, trying to clear his head and focus on the problem.

As he worked through the calculations, he could hear Jason pace back and forth outside the closet, the sound of his footsteps echoing in his ears. He knew that if he made a mistake, if he failed to solve the equation correctly, there would be no mercy. But he also knew that he had to try, for his own sake and for the sake of his remaining dignity.

After what seemed like an eternity, Chris finally solved the equation. His heart raced as he showed his work to Jason, hoping that it was correct. The other man studied it for several long moments before nodding, his expression unreadable. "Not bad," he said at last. "But don't get too cocky. This is just the first test." With that, he opened the closet door and gestured for Chris to crawl out.

Chris emerged from the closet, feeling dizzy and nauseated. He knew that he had survived this time, but he also knew that Jason would find some other way to torture and humiliate him in the future. For now, though, he had to focus on simply surviving one day at a time.

As Chris lay in his cage that night, his body aching from the day's abuse, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Jason might have given him a moment's respite, but he knew that the other man was only biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike again. In the meantime, he was still owned by Master Tyler and Master Travis, and Jason was their hired enforcer, tasked with keeping him under their control at all times.