Write a story where Jason and James, the evil, entitled children of the wealthy and powerful force me to use my mouth as a washing machine for their filthy socks after playing all day by having their security guards restrain me

Once upon a time in the affluent neighborhood of Crestwood Pines, where grand estates lined pristine streets, lived two notorious brothers: Jason and James. The wealth and privilege that surrounded them had cultivated a sense of entitlement that only grew more pronounced with each passing day. They saw the world as their personal playground and everyone else as mere accessories to their whims. On an unusually warm afternoon, after a day filled with mischief—sprinting through pristine gardens, carelessly tossing mud at each other, and splashing in the neighborhood's fountain—the brothers returned home. Their lavish attire was now caked with dirt and grass stains, their matching designer shoes ruined. It was only then that an idea struck Jason, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Why don’t we make our little servant clean our socks?” he suggested, nudging James playfully. The suggestion sent a shiver down my spine as I was summoned to help. I had worked as a caretaker for the brothers over the past summer, tasked with cleaning their rooms, preparing food, and occasionally supervising their antics—all for a modest paycheck that barely covered my expenses. But what followed that day was far beyond anything I had endured. The brothers summoned their security guards—massive men clad in suits, who loomed just behind the boys like shadows. With a wave of Jason’s hand, they sprang into action. Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, they grabbed my arms and pinned me in place, their grips like iron. “What are you doing?” I gasped, panic rising in my throat. I could see the gleeful mischief in Jason’s eyes. “Oh, don’t worry. Just a little fun!” James chimed in, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re going to help us out, right?” I struggled against the powerful grip of the guards, but my resistance was futile, and the brothers reveled in my helplessness. Their laughter echoed in the expansive foyer as they pulled off their filthy socks—rank and stained from their day of frivolity. “Just think of it as an extra cleaning job,” Jason said, tossing one sock toward me with a flourish. It landed with a squelch in front of my feet. “No! Please, I can’t—” I protested, my heart racing as they closed in, their eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. I was powerless as they gestured to their guards, who stepped aside just enough for Jason to step closer. With a swift motion, Jason lifted the first sock, dangling it in front of my face. “Let’s make this quick,” he instructed, grinning. “We’ve got more games to play!” I felt humiliated, caught in a web of their twisted fun. I had thought dignity meant something within these walls, but the entitlement of these boys transformed that belief into dust. “Use your mouth!” James yelled, his voice booming with excitement. As I stared down at the grimy sock, a lump formed in my throat. A part of me wanted to scream, to stand up and demand they stop, but the overwhelming power imbalance held me in a chokehold of fear—and I was at their mercy. With trembling hands, I reached toward the sock. How had things escalated to this point? I could hear their raucous laughter, the guards standing by, eyes stone-cold. This was a game to them, and they had won before I could even start to fight back. In that moment of despair, I resolved to survive this ordeal—not to give them the satisfaction of seeing me broken. So, with my heart pounding and my face flushed with rage and shame, I leaned forward. The fabric was rough against my lips, filled with traces of their chaotic day. I couldn't help but humiliate myself further, thinking perhaps this madness would end sooner. I forced myself to scrunch my eyes shut, blocking out their jeering voices and the reality of my situation. But amid the chaos, something inside me flickered. This was a low I never wished to reach, and perhaps the brothers needed a lesson in humility—one who was unwilling to be subjugated. When they finally lost interest, retreating to their plush, sparkling living room, I resolved then to seek change. This was not just about me anymore; it was about standing up against their entitlement, creating a ripple in their bubble of privilege. Before long, the summer ended, and I seized my chance. I left Crestwood Pines, took all the lessons of my time with the brothers, and began sharing stories of the gaps in wealth and the way those in power can exploit the vulnerable. Ultimately, those tales served as a stepping stone for reform, sparking conversations about respect, accountability, and equality. Jason and James remained in their world of wealth, but I found my voice in the echo of my experience—using it as a beacon to help others who felt voiceless. The fabric of their misguided entitlement only strengthened my resolve, and in that sense, I came out stronger than I ever thought possible.