Write a story where the sons of the wealthy and powerful force me to use my mouth as a washing machine for their filthy socks when I'm assigned to be their butler for the day

Once upon a time in a sprawling manor perched on the edge of a majestic estate, I found myself in a rather peculiar situation. The estate belonged to the Hawthorne family, known for their wealth and influence in the city. It was a privilege, or so I thought, to be chosen as the temporary butler for the day while my mentor was on holiday. As I arrived, I was greeted by the twin sons of Lord Hawthorne, Chris and Alex, boisterous young men who seemed to revel in their privilege. They were notorious for their mischievous pranks and had a reputation for being a handful. I was determined to maintain professionalism amid their antics. The day started innocently enough, with breakfast orders shouted from the lavish table. I hustled around, preparing the finest dishes, but the moment I moments set foot in the living room, their laughter echoed through the hallways. I quested to follow their gaze, and there I found a heap of socks—soiled, tattered, and clearly unwashed. "Hey, Butler!" Chris called, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We’ve got a special task for you!” I chuckled nervously but attempted to remain composed. “What do you need, gentlemen?” “Those socks need cleaning,” Alex grinned, waving his hand toward the pile. “And we thought, what better way than a little…creative laundering?” The twins burst into laughter, their eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on, just a little game! It’s what you signed up for!” I was taken aback. Surely, they couldn’t be serious. The thought was absurd, but as I looked into their expectant faces, I realized they were dead set on this prank. The weight of their powerful family loomed over me—displeasing them could lead to ramifications, both for my job and my reputation. Reluctantly, I knelt down and picked up the first sock. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath, but Chris interjected with a laugh, “No one’s forcing you! Just think of it as a test of your loyalty!” With deep breaths to steady my pounding heart, I hesitated but then blurted out an uneasy laugh, trying to fit in. I could feel the heat in my cheeks rising. “Alright, maybe just this once?” Their laughter roared as I brought the sock close. I quickly resigned myself to the moment, crossing an invisible line of dignity as they cheered and mocked playfully. I scrunched my eyes, trying to dismiss the discomfort as fabric met my lips. Their laughter echoed around the room, each snicker a reminder of my peculiar predicament. I felt a mix of embarrassment and disbelief, but strangely, there was an odd camaraderie in the rebellious act—a sense of reckless adventure mingled with their privileged mischief. As the clock ticked on and the sun dipped lower in the sky, the playful taunts transformed into friendly banter. I found myself laughing along, the initial shock wearing away. In an odd twist of fate, I felt the boundary of butler and privileged son blur, at least for that surreal and chaotic day. By evening, their mood shifted. They acknowledged the absurdity of their earlier challenge, and instead of returning to their accustomed arrogance, they became something unexpected: human. We ended our day in the library, sharing stories and ironically bonding over this bizarre moment that had brought us together. In the end, it was the strangest day I had ever experienced, one that challenged the norms of class and dignity, standing in stark contrast to the opulence around us. As I left the estate that night, I couldn’t be certain of what awaited me in the future; perhaps the sons of wealth were not so different after all. They waved goodbye, the remnants of laughter still echoing through the expansive halls, and I felt a peculiar sense of acceptance— both of them and the absurdities of life in a privileged world. And with that, I stepped through the gates of Hawthorne Manor, ready to embrace whatever awaited me outside its walls.