Sold // Justin Bieber

i need more of a show

It's been a night since it happened. You know, the thing I wrote about earlier.

I wasn't able to sit for a week; he's definitely under the standards of "good" for someone who likes sex. I really don't. He wanted it again in the morning but honestly I just wasn't having it. I'm so fucking sore-even still. Justin won't even let me have pain medicine, like ibuprofen or anything. He says he likes my pain. What a sadistic asshole.

Now, I'm sitting on my bed, alone, waiting for Justin to barge intrusively in and come try and fuck me.

SLAM!

He slams the door open, and just like that, he fufills my prediction.

"Hello, darling. Ready?"

"For what?" Sex. He wants sex.

"For sex. And for you to get fucking dressed. There's underwear in the closet and shit. Go put it on." I shake my head no. I refuse to put on a Victoria's Secret style fashion show for some idiot who literally bought me to fuck him. "Um, yes. You're going to do as I say or you're gonna get fuckin' punished. That's how this shit works, remember, Rose?"

He grabbed my hair and pulled me to his face.

"That's how it works." I solemly nod as I let a single tear run out of my eye. I don't want to give him satisfaction, but on the other hand, I'm not in the mood to be hit. Or whatever he's got in store.

"Good girl. Go put on some panties I'd like," He pushes me in the direction of the closet. I open the doors and it's full-top to bottom-of lingerie. It's a stripper's dream. I rummage through the mess as Justin's eyes linger on my ass. At least it's covered. I pull out a pair of pink panties and a matching bra. They're not see-through, so that's definitely a bonus. If I'm going to wear anything, I'd prefer him not to be able to see my nipples.

"No."

"Why the hell not? They're in the closet you told me to fucking go into. You make no fucking sense."

"Cursing. 3 times. 3 Spankings afterwards this." Fuck him. I begin to rummage through, taking my time, until Justin comes over and pushes me to the floor. He grabs a black lace thong and a see-through black lace bra to match. I'm not fucking wearing that.

"You've got to be kidding. I'm not wearing that." I look up at him, and he's got a smirk on his face.

"Yes you are. I told you you are, so you are. You're my fucking slave and that's all you're ever going to be." He throws the lace at my face and walks back to the bed. I grab the shit and start heading to the bathroom to change. "Where the hell do you think you're going? You're gonna change right fucking here, where I can see you." I have literally no choice but to do as I would in a locker room as a kid.

I pull y arms through the shirt shoulders, keeping it on my head but exchanging the bra. I then pull off my leggings and panties and do a quick exchange; luckily, my shirt is long enough to do so without showing anything.

"I need more of a show."