sued into submission 🌷 tracob

13

Troye Sivan

"Strip for you?" I ask timidly, holding the towel to my chest.

He nods as if it were obvious.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes, now, Sivan." He orders.

And so I loosen the towel from around my body, slipping it off and holding it in a bunch over my crotch. I stand there awkwardly, my cheeks flushed and eyes averted to the floor.

"Is that it?" I question.

He sighs, "We need to get some weight on you, you look terrible."

I nod, refusing to look up at his judgemental gaze. He's right, I do look terrible.

"Okay," I whisper.

"And those arms, we can get some more muscle on 'em." He mutters, maybe more to himself than me.

This is it, he's just degrading me. There's not a thing I can do about it besides agree and look down in shame.

"Okay."

"Troye," Mr Bixenman sighs, "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm pointing it out so you can see it as I do. You're still appealing in bed and all, but how are you gonna sell looks if you don't have much to offer?"

I go to nod again when I backtrack.

"Sell looks?" I inquire.

I break my gaze with the carpet and gaze up to see him nodding.

"Yeah, I booked you a deal with a modelling company. You'll be starting next month." He informs, crossing his leg over his knee and sitting his chin up on his palm.

"I- you what?" I stammer, giving him a funny look.

"You're going to be the new face of NEF Modelling, don't act so surprised." He scoffs.

I shake my head in disbelief, "Wha-?"

He rolls his eyes and gets up off of the bed, "Think about it."

I stand there in shock, still holding simply just a cotton towel over my dick, the rest of myself completely revealed. He walks out of the room without another word.

Before I can call out a thank you, he peeks his head back in.

"You know I only hired you because of that pretty face, so I guess you've got something going for you." He winks and turns back around, walking back to wherever it is he hides all the time.

Swallowing back my disbelief, I sit down on the bed and sigh. What the hell?

...

"Sivan! Come down for dinner!" Is shouted hours later.

I roll over on the bed I've been sulking on for far too long and get, up, brushing my hair back with my fingers. I shimmy into clothes, considering I've been laying in bed naked since my shower, and head downstairs to see a blank-faced Mr Bixenman waiting for me at the table.

I roll my sleeves back and sit down at the chair on the other end of the table.

"Thank you, I wasn't expecting dinner." I crack a smile, placing a napkin over my lap and staring down at the pasta in a bowl in front of me.

"I do let Margret in the kitchen every now and then." He hums, biting into his food, tapping his shoes against the floor. Of course, he still has his shoes on.

I dig into the pasta and about throw my head back in delight.

"You need to let her in the kitchen more often, bloody hell." I mutter with a noodle falling down my chin. I scrunch my nose up and pick it up, placing it in my mouth and looking over at the bloke to see him watching with an amused yet judgemental look. I shrug, it's not like there are rules to eating.