The Gentle Giant

Truth

Hazel's POV

My body is beyond sore as I collapse on the floor next to my cage. I was still sore from the day before when Master wanted to have me try and stand again.

His persistence is encouraging, but I fear I will disappoint him with my lack of progress.

"Hazel!" Master calls, the door of his bedroom creaking as he opens it to call me. I let out a soft whine, but go to him. "Hazel!" Master calls louder, his heavy footfall echoing down the hall.

"I'm coming, Master." I crawl faster. He huffs as he sees me, shaking his head side to side.

"Come on," his impatience clear in his voice. His fingers drum on his hips as he looks down at me. He seems frustrated with me, but I can't think of a reason why.

I helped him with the dishes and although he didn't really say anything, I think it made him happy.

"Strip. Presentation position." He closes the door behind us as we enter his room. Blue meows on the bed, but for the first time he ignores her.

I nod my head, pulling his t-shirt up over my head. I go to fold it, but he snatches it from my hands and throws it on the bed. I get down in presentation position, my bottom in the air with my cheek to the floor.

I can't help but blush when Master's feet come to stop behind me. I can imagine the view he's receiving as I lay out for him, my intimates in full view.

I don't know why, but I get the same feeling I always do when he sees me naked. A slight hope rises that he'll comment and tell me how pretty I am, or that he thinks my hair is nice, or that my skin is soft.

He doesn't compliment me at all though, making me wait in discomfort as he examines even inch of me.

Although he doesn't say anything about my body displeasing him, I can't help but think that maybe he doesn't find me attractive.

Whenever Abby tells me I'm pretty, he never agrees with her or anything. He never compliments me, or tries to do anything like kiss or cuddle me.

I mean, he kissed my head when I was crying, but that doesn't really count. He wasn't kissing me because I pleased him, or because he cared or thought I was pretty.

Maybe he doesn't like my hair. Everyone always says how pretty it is, but he didn't like my hair. He wanted Abby to cut it all off, I remember.

Perhaps he likes brunettes.

If he likes brunettes, then why did he choose me?

I jump when his fingers graze the back of my thigh. I don't even have to look to know he's examining my scar. He runs his finger over it and I can't help but tense up.

My face goes red with shame at the reminder of how undesirable I am.

I'm so stupid for thinking that my hair color was why Master doesn't like me. Of course it is because of my scar.

Who could ever love a submissive who couldn't even stand?

It all makes sense, maybe he though he could love me, but then realized he couldn't. I don't blame him, there are so many more perfect subs for him to choose from, he has no reason to pick me, a second rate sub.

I didn't have to have a first Master to become second rate. My injury alone made me a hand-me-down, a damaged good.

"Does this hurt?" I shake my head, biting my lip. I feel wetness on my face and I know I've been crying.

Master's eyes linger on my face for a moment, taking in my tears, but he says nothing else. He removes his hand from my scar, straightening up and walking towards his closet.