The Gentle Giant

Hazel

Hazel's POV

Nine years ago:

"Oh, sweet Hazel," the trainer taunts over me as he pushes my small body against one of the metal punishment tables. He grabs my hair and yanks me forward toward him again, taking a deep whiff of my hair.

He suddenly pulls my head to the side making me stumble to follow after him. "Sweet, sweet, Hazel. I hope you know that you made a grave mistake," he says in a singsong voice, sounding pleased that I had been sent to punishment.

"Please, Master Aaron," I plead before my head is slammed into the metal table. Stars form in my vision and a hand wraps around my throat.

"Who told you to speak?" His voice going cold. Tears slip freely from my eyes and I hate myself even more.

I knew not to speak out without permission.

He roughly lifts me up a little bit before slamming me back down again. My small body shakes, his roughness jarring the bones inside my already frail body. "I asked you a question. Who said you could speak?" He asks in a deadly calm voice.

"No one, Sir," I croak out, my hands trying to pry his hand from my neck.

He finally releases my throat and I cough and gasp. He steps away from me and goes over to get something on the wall.

I turn on my side, facing away from him, coughing up saliva.

A hand grasps my hair and I'm pulling back again. I scramble, my back hitting his chest.

I try to get away from him, but he grabs my inner thigh, stilling my movements.

The old clothing I'm wearing doesn't cover much, exposing lots of the skin on my legs as he lifts my knees up. I shake and fight the feeling of throwing up as he traces patterns on my inner thighs.

"Y-you aren't supposed to touch me there," I stutter as his fingers start to trace over my underwear.

He yanks my head back, making my look up at him. His grip on my thigh tightens and I whimper. "What was that?"

I let out shaky breathes, not daring to tell him what he can and can't do.

His hand continues to venture further up my dress and he finally pulls the fabric up, exposing my underwear. "Sweet, sweet, Hazel," he whispers in my ear, making shivers of disgust run down my back.

His hand gropes my intimates and I bite my lip, silencing my whimpers as he molests me. "How old are you now?" He asks, not even letting me get in an answer, "You're getting to be such a big girl," he taunts, finally moving his hand from between my legs and starting to massage my thighs roughly.

"E-eleven," I stutter out after he stops talking, making him chuckle.

"So young and just so sweet." His lips press to the side of my neck. I shake vigorously, hating the feeling of his lips on my neck. "How about I make you a deal?" He asks me.

I nod my head, more tears slipping down my face. I know this won't be any sort of deal I will be happy about.

"If you lay real nice and still for me like the good little whore you'll grow up to be, I'll make sure to let you swallow my seed?"

I nod my head in acceptance, knowing that is the only answer I'm allowed. "Mmm? Isn't that a nice deal to make with you? I could just let you spend the next week on an empty stomach," he says to me, his grip tightening in my hair.

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Master Aaron," I gasp out frantically.

He roughly lets my hair go and I pant in fear of what he will do next. A knock on the door makes my heart stop, hope rising inside me at the prospect of a savior.