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As I knelt on the cold stone floor of the common hall, naked and exposed, the weight of the overseer's cruel tasks pressing down on me like a heavy yoke, I couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over me. But despite the humiliation and degradation, I knew that I had **** but to obey.

With a heavy heart, I began to scrub the floors, the rough bristles of the brush scraping against my bare skin with each agonizing stroke. But no matter how hard I worked, it seemed that the stains would never come out, each stubborn mark a cruel reminder of my lowly status in Dominus society.

As I toiled away, lost in my thoughts of despair, the laughter of the Masters filled the air, a cruel symphony of mockery and derision that echoed off the stone walls of the common hall. They watched with amusement as I scrubbed, deliberately thrashing the area with careless abandon, knowing full well the futility of my efforts.

"Look at him," one of the Masters sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "A pathetic excuse for a servant, groveling on the floor like a common worm. He truly is a pitiful sight."

The laughter only grew louder, each peal of mirth a painful reminder of my humiliation. But I dared not protest, dared not show any sign of weakness in the face of their cruelty. For to do so would only invite further punishment, and I knew that I could ill afford to incur the wrath of the Masters.

As the hours passed and the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the common hall, I continued to scrub, my muscles aching and my skin raw from the exertion.