You pull up to your building in your gleaming Mercedes. It’s a half falling down brick fire trap with a black mould problem, dry rot and lead plumbing. But you don’t care, you don’t have to live here and the trash that does should work harder if they don’t like it.

Seeing no regular parking spots, you park in the handicap zone and put up your counterfeit handicap placard before stepping out into the street and taking a big, satisfied, whiff. It smells like poverty, desperation and despair; bywords for profitable in your business.

You stroll into your building, whistling as you walk up to Unit 1, master key at the ready if the scum doesn’t open up.

"Oh, hi there! Yes, I'm here to collect rent." You point at the unkempt woman and her child in a disapproving manner. "You know how it works around here, so let's see your money."

The woman starts to tear up, "I'm sorry, I... I just don't have it right now." Her son looks down at the ground, shame written across his young features. You cross your arms impatiently.

"Well that's too bad for you, isn't it? Now look, I'm not in the business of offering charity here, so either find a way to pay or get out." As you say this, you lean against the doorframe and casually rest your hand on your hip.

You arch an eyebrow at the woman and her child. "I'm sure you could find something around here to sell... Or maybe even borrow money from your 'friends'." You emphasize that last word like it tastes bad, letting them know exactly what you think of their criminal lifestyle choices.

"But fine," you sigh, pretending to be magnanimous. "You have until the end of the month to come up with the full rent or I'll start eviction proceedings."

The woman looks you in the eye and nods vigorously, promising to come up with the money somehow. You narrow your eyes, unconvinced but satisfied for now. "See that you do," you mutter before moving on to the next apartment.

You smile to yourself as you close the door behind you, confident that she'll find a way to come up with the cash or else face the consequences. After all, you've been doing this for years and know these people better than they know themselves. Now it's time to move on to the next tenant...

You raise an eyebrow at the woman skeptically. "And what makes you think I'd be interested in negotiating with someone who can't even pay their rent on time?" You cross your arms, feigning disinterest. "I have other tenants to see, so unless you have something I really want, I suggest you save your breath." With that, you turn away and walk towards the next apartment door.

You stop in your tracks and turn back to the woman, arching an eyebrow. "Hmm, let me think about that," you say nonchalantly. "I mean, it's not like I need the extra mouth to feed or anything... but on the other hand, having another pair of hands around here couldn't hurt." You lean against the doorframe again and study her carefully. "How old is your son again?"

You cross your arms and consider the woman's offer. "Well, I could let you stay if you agree to a few conditions," you say slowly. "One: You don't cause any trouble in the building or attract attention from the authorities. Two: Your son helps me with some odd jobs around here - painting, cleaning, that sort of thing and other thing most personal."

You narrow your eyes at the woman and her son. "And three," you add, "you give me a key to your unit so I can come in whenever I need to check on things." You smile, revealing sharp teeth. "What do you say?"

The woman hesitates, looking conflicted. "I... I don't know if my son would be able to handle that, sir. He has school and..."

You cut her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Fine, then you can keep paying what you've been paying," you snap. "But remember, this offer only comes around once." With that, you turn on your heel and continue down the hallway to the next apartment.

The woman's eyes widen at your offer, and she quickly agrees to the terms. You nod once curtly and jot down a few notes in your ledger before moving on to the next apartment. Your new "servant" will prove useful around the building, and you might even be able to find other ways to exploit him in the future. As for his mother... well, she's just another tenant now.

As you climb into your Mercedes, the cool leather seats enveloping you in comfort, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Another day of collecting rent and maintaining your dominance over your tenants has come to an end. You pull out into traffic, oblivious to the suffering of those left behind in your wake. Your destination: home, where you can relax in luxury and plan for new ways to exploit your "investments."

As you look back at your new "servant," a small smile plays on your lips. You can see the fear in his eyes and feel the hatred radiating off of him, but you know that for now he's powerless to do anything about it. It's almost intoxicating, this feeling of control over another human being. You turn your attention back to the road, already planning how best to break him further before finding someone else to take his place.

You glance at the boy briefly before turning your attention back to the road. "About ten," you reply curtly. "Now, be a good little servant and don't get into any trouble." Your words are laced with venom, but they seem to roll off the boy like water off a duck's back. He looks away, biting his lip in anger and humiliation.

You smile to yourself again, satisfied that your dominance over him has been firmly established. It won't be long now before he breaks under your thumb.

The boy glances up at you with a defiant look in his eye before replying, "My name is Tim." His voice is steady despite the anger and fear that you can sense beneath the surface. You file this information away, knowing that it will be useful to have when you need to remind him of his place in your twisted hierarchy.

You raise an eyebrow at the boy as he hesitates before answering. "I go to... I go to Jefferson Elementary." He says it quickly, as if he's trying to get the information out before you can change your mind about asking. You nod in acknowledgement, committing this fact to memory as well.

As you pull into your driveway, you turn back to Tim and smile maliciously. "Remember, Timmy," you purse your lips to mock his name, "you belong to me now.

The boy hesitates again before nodding slowly. "Yeah... I mean, it's not the best school but... it's what I have." His voice trails off, and you can see him steeling himself against whatever punishment or demand might come next from you. It only makes your smirk grow wider.

You climb out of your car, feeling more in control and powerful than ever before. As you slam the door shut behind you, you turn back to Tim one last time. "Good boy,"

You gesture dismissively to the back seat of your car, where Tim's new 'bed' awaits him. "Go on then," you say coldly. "Let's get moving." There's no warmth or kindness in your voice; only cruelty and dominance. Tim hesitates for a moment longer before climbing into the car, head hung low. As he takes his place in the back seat, you round the vehicle and slide into the driver's seat with a satisfied sigh.

You pull up to your mansion in your gleaming Mercedes. The boy, Tim, sits nervously in the backseat as you climb out and walk around to open his door. As he exits the vehicle, you gesture for him to follow you inside. The interior of your home is even more opulent than expected; marble floors, expensive artwork, and an array of luxurious furnishings adorn every room. Tim's eyes widen in awe (or fear)

"Welcome to your new home," you say coldly, gesturing for him to follow you deeper into the mansion. The servants are already preparing dinner in the kitchen; they give Tim curious glances but say nothing. As you lead him up a grand staircase, you continue speaking: "Your duties will include attending to my every need and keeping this place clean. In exchange, I'll make sure you have food and a roof over your head."

Tim looks around in wonder, but also with apprehension. He knows this is a far cry from the dilapidated apartment he used to call home; yet he can't shake the feeling that there's something not quite right about being here. As you lead him back downstairs and into the kitchen where dinner is being prepared, he silently thanks whoever might be listening for this second chance at a better life... even if it means serving someone like you.

"It's... amazing," Tim whispers, unable to hide his awe as he looks around the opulent kitchen. "I never thought I'd live somewhere like this." Despite his words, there's an undercurrent of fear and unease in his voice that doesn't go unnoticed by you. You smile to yourself again, satisfied that your dominance over him has been firmly established. It won't be long now before he breaks under your thumb.

"Thank you," Tim mutters, not meeting your gaze as he sits down at the kitchen table. He knows what his nights will be like now; long and sleepless, filled with dread of whatever tasks or punishments await him in the morning. But for now, food and a warm bed are enough to keep him going... until tomorrow's inevitable suffering begins anew.

You retire to your own opulent bedroom, content in the knowledge that Tim is safely under your control for now. As you drift off to sleep, dreams of power and dominance fill your head... along with vague memories of a life not so different from the one he's about to embark upon. You smile smugly, certain that soon enough those memories will be nothing more than distant echoes in his mind as he succumbs completely to your twisted version of reality.

You hear muffled sobs coming from Tim's room. It takes you a moment to realize that he's having a nightmare; his cries pierce the silence of your luxurious bedroom like knives, waking you up fully. Annoyance flares within you as you get out of bed and storm into Tim's room, flicking on the light switch with a sharp motion.

The boy is thrashing about on his bed, drenched in sweat and mumbling incoherently.

Your voice is cold and harsh in the otherwise quiet room, startling Tim back to reality momentarily before he buries his face in his pillow, trying futilely to muffle his sobs. You tower over him, your expression a mixture of anger and amusement. "You should learn to control yourself," you say curtly, gesturing towards the empty space on the bed next to you.

Tim hesitates before climbing out of bed and shuffling over to lie down beside you. You ignore him for now, preferring instead to watch as he tries in vain to regain his composure. As the minutes tick by, however, you begin to grow impatient; there are more important things to attend to than this boy's pathetic attempts at self-control.

Eventually, you turn your back on him and close your eyes again, hoping he'll get the message that tonight's performance wasn't up to par.

As you sleep soundly, your arm instinctively reaches out and drapes itself over Tim's shoulders in a protective embrace. The boy stiffens briefly before relaxing into the touch, his sobs slowly subsiding as he grows more accustomed to the warmth of your body against his own.

Despite your best efforts to maintain control and dominance over him, this small act of affection serves only to further complicate your relationship with Tim; a reminder that there is still a part of you which longs for connection and understanding...

You sigh softly in your sleep, the movement causing Tim to stir slightly but not wake fully. In your dreams, you're back in your old life; a life of luxury and privilege where people looked up to you for guidance and support. It feels so real... so right. But then, reality intrudes once more as you open your eyes and find yourself staring down at the frightened face of Tim.

For a moment, regret washes over you; regret that you ever got involved with this boy and his troublesome past.

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the guilt that threatens to surface. No time for that now. You force a smile onto your face and gently ruffle Tim's hair before pushing yourself up into a sitting position. "Time to get up, sleepyhead," you say cheerfully, pretending as though last night never happened.