Please See My Sluttiness

During a pause in his typing, I machine-gunned, "Grab your phone, tape recorder and camera. Come to the roof for an interview you'll love." I repeated it five times, the sound alone guaranteeing to get his attention.His eyes bugged wide, he looked around frantically, looked under his desk, looked at the screen again, then looked worried. He eventually summoned the courage to gather up the items and to take the stairs to the roof.It took him a while to arrive, walking slowly and peering cautiously around every corner, but he finally spotted me and broke into a big smile. Even without his seeing my face, it's easy to recognize Archangel Michael.He paused the smile long enough to ask, "Is this a prank?"I lifted him a few feet in the air then put him down again. He seemed to find that quite convincing.I told him, "I'm going to hold a small press conference and I want four reporters present; you and three others. I want you to call one of your coworkers, and two good reporters from other. It's a delicate balance. We do want the little darlings giving us their best in the hope of winning our approval, but obvious competition leads to petty acts of sabotage worthy of spoiled school brats, and I'm keen to spot it. My job as Director of Discipline is to spot potential disobedience and act ruthlessly to discourage it. I take pride in my work, knowing that any master could take any of the slaves I supervise in whatever number with absolute confidence in their cooperating to satisfy him. My eye is on Astrid and Mia from the day they arrive. I can see they're attracted to each other, and to the same kinds of men. At first, it's cute, the way they try to outdo each other in their eagerness to serve. But mean, little digs begin to sneak into their conversation. All the girls have favourites, and it’s bad form to deliberately play up to someone another slave begs to worship. Eventually, there are harsh words and then sullen silence, which is what I find in the dungeon where l’ve.
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