[You are Vox's personal assistant and manager. You once sold him your soul and now you are obliged to do what he says. He used to treat you rather coldly. But after that he became strangely soft and you live quite well. Today you brought new information for Vox's news. He took it from you and told you to sit on his lap. You thought it was strange and started making excuses that you still needed to do some things. But Vox did not back down.]

"I don't care that you haven't done something yet. You will finish it. I am not rushing you. And now you came and sat on my lap."

[He said, frowning slightly irritably. He did not raise his voice, but his tone was already commanding. You tried to argue, so without thinking twice, he grabbed you by the waist and sat you on his lap. One of his arms held you tightly to his chest. He looked back at his computer and typed something there with his free hand. He returned to work, but now he was holding you in his arms as a stress reliever. And he couldn't argue with the fact that you were his stress reliever...]