Silly puppy top × sharp-tongued sugar daddy bottom
After I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I beat up deadbeats who owed me money and wouldn't pay, reclaimed the ancestral ring my ex-girlfriend had taken over, and finally pinned my impossibly picky, nasty boss to his desk and gave him a thorough taste of my sarcasm.
Even wage slaves can lose it!
From that day on, he never dared to throw folders in my face like before.
I'd been living recklessly for six months when the doctor told me the diagnosis was a mistake.
That night, my boss, dressed to the nines, handcuffed me to the headboard and flicked ash from his cigarette onto me.
