Broken & Reborn (closed for TheFarthestWriter & wideeyedone)

Abby waited until he was gone and then she sat up. Her legs still felt a little shaky when she stood. She gathered the torn clothes and tossed them in the wastebasket.

She caught sight of herself and decided to wash up a little. She found a wash cloth and washed her face and then her sex and her thighs. She brushed out her hair. She went back to the closet and chose a soft emerald green dress. She slipped in to a set of matching black lace lingerie. Then the dress. She slid on the same black heels.

She gingerly opened the door yo her quarters and quietly made her way down the stairs. She wasn't sure where the dining room was but she listened for sounds and after a few wrong turns she found him in the dining room.

"I am sorry for being late, Master. "

While Abby was getting ready, Grant had a moment to sit at the dining table by himself and think things over. Grant had been doing this for years now. He had started over fifteen years ago today, and every time the experience had been the same. Now, with this slave already mostly broken, his mind started wandering elsewhere. It had begun to dawn on him that as he had broken each one of the women he had in the past, he had placed himself in a certain mental state of mind. There was some part of him inside, that he had had to bury, in order to do what he had done. Now that he didn’t have to engage in that side of himself with Abby, that part of him was coming through, and Grant wasn’t sure he liked what it was. And this uncertainty got under his skin. It bothered him. He was used to being a master of himself, and of everything around him, especially the women he very carefully, deliberately brought into his life. Now, there was a lack of control, and it was happening within his very soul. What was that thing that he had buried all these years? And why was Abby’s presence, unwittingly, bringing it out of him? He couldn’t even take out his anger on her, lest he risk ruining her. His goal was still to make her his completely. Sometimes it would be on the third or fourth day - sometimes even in the second or third week - when the slave realized that they really, really weren’t going back to their old life. When that happened, Grant didn’t want it that some uncontrolled, angry outbursts ruin the control he would need to exert at that moment. That was usually a crucial moment. Grant had quite simply used a system of rewards and punishments to get through it. Now…

Fuck me.

Just as Grant began cursing himself he heard a shuffle of feet and looked up to see Abby walking into the kitchen - looking absolutely beautiful.

She heard her apologize, but he was caught up in his desire for her. Her brown hair, her big, innocent eyes, that small frame that he could break over his one leg, all wrapped up in the dress she’d chosen. The shoes.

“Take off your shoes, Abigail. You don’t wear shoes unless I tell you.”

After Abby had complied Grant looked her standing there. She was waiting for him to give her permission to sit.

Grant smiled, “Have a seat, Abigail.” He paused, then added, “You look beautiful.”

Where the hell did that come from? Grant looked down at his food and began eating.

When he asked her she removed her shoes and neatly placed them next to the wall. She waited until he invited her to sit. She found herself nervous, her hands were shaking. She was worried that she was going to make another mistake. She could feel the underlying tension in the room and she was afraid that if she made one mistake too many she would experience his wrath.

She couldn't help but smile when he told her she looked beautiful.

"Thank you, Master. There were so many lovely clothes to choose from." Her voice was small and soft. She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

She took a few bites of her dinner, she tried to calm her nerves but her hands were shaking so bad that she decided to lay her hands in her lap for a moment and breathe.

Grant noticed Abby’s shaking hands. And he noticed her put her fork down and try to center herself.

She was nervous after all. Of course. How could she not be? The fact that it came as a relief and a surprise to Grant reminded him of how much he was out of his element.

Grant straightened himself and looked across the table at Abby. He placed his fork down on the table carefully, placed his hands on his lap, and finished chewing the food in his mouth. Then he tilted his head slightly as if studying the little thing in front of him.

“Tell me, Abby, what is it, superficially, that’s making you nervous? I know the entire situation is. But think for a moment and tell me which particular aspect of it is getting to you. ”

Abby felt as transparent as crystal as she sat across from him. She bit her lip and her breath caught in her throat.

"Master, I ... I don't want to make more mistakes. I feel like I am upsetting you and I don't want to do that."

She took a long sip of her water.

"Master, I am afraid. I am afraid off being punished." She whispered.

The fear was already there. It was in place. So much so that she was shaking before him. Whatever her family had done to her, she was already done. What Grant needed to do, he suddenly realized, was to give her that thing which, apparently, she hadn’t gotten from her family.

As Grant realized this, he felt something in his chest that he hadn’t the foggiest idea as to what it was. It felt nice, but completely out of control. He felt like having… mercy, on this little thing before him.

Grant leaned back in his chair. “My dear Abigail. Let me ask you a question. What I did to you upstairs before coming down here. What did you feel that was? Did you feel it to be a punishment? Or something else?"

Grant looked softly at Abby. She needed it. He knew it.

When he asked about before, when he was touching her, her cheeks instantly flamed scarlet. She could feel the heat from her blush from her cheeks all the way to her chest.

"I don't think I was being punished, Master. But, I am not sure. You didn't seem displeased with me as you were touching me." She bit her lip again, this time harder. "It felt. I am not sure how to describe it, but I felt..." She almost choked on her words. "I felt like you wanted me, like I was pleasing you, and I liked the way that felt. " Her voice shook with emotion.

"I am not sure if that is what I am supposed to feel, or if that makes me a very wicked girl or not, but that is how it made me feel." She sighed with relief getting those words out. But she quickly amended her words, adding a quiet "Master" to the end.

I felt like you wanted me, like I was pleasing you, and I liked the way that felt.”

Grant’s eyes seemed to glaze over. Perhaps from the outside - Grant would think in retrospect - like he was mortified at what he had heard. And in a sense he was. He was mortified by what was happening inside him as he heard Abby confess that she enjoyed the fact that he wanted her.

She was already his.

But she was his, in a way that none of the others ever had been. And now, that thing that Grant had had to break and hide away deep within himself came roaring out of him.

The glaze over his eyes faded, and he focused in on Abby.

“Abby.” He said softly. “It doesn’t make you wicked. It…”

Say it: It makes you very good.

Pin her self esteem, her sense of worth, on you. Do it.

“It makes you…”

Do it! Say it!

No.

“…it makes you even more perfect for me.”

“Come sit here.” He patted his lap, and pushed his chair back. “Sit here, facing me.”

Abby silently slid from her chair and padded over to him. She daintily sat in his lap. Their difference in size made it so her feet were no where close to the floor. She put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

And with out being asked she laid her head on his shoulder, her soft, dark hair falling around her. She was still shaking but she was sipping in slow breaths, trying to calm herself.

Grant had imagined that she would sit, maybe awkwardly at first, maybe just looking into his eyes. And that he would touch her face, and that he would caress her body through her dress, and that he would lift up her dress… but now here she was, with her head on his shoulder. The smell of her hair overwhelming him, her embrace of him…

Grant slowly, almost not knowing what to do, placed his hand on her back. He could feel she was shaking, and he pressed his large hand against her back as if to still her. Then, he raised his other hand, and ran it through her hair, holding her head against him. He felt his that thing in his chest do all kinds of things, but most of all, he just felt overwhelmed. Grant slowly placed his cheek on Abby’s hair, and held her. He held her in every way that he could. And he just stayed that way, enjoying her, but now knowing why or how.

“It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you Abby. You won’t ever have to worry here. I’m not upset with you.”

Abby curled up against him, pressing herself to him as tightly as she could. She couldn't explain why, but it was if she had been craving the words he said for her whole life.

To be wanted. To be cared for. To be cherished. It was her oldest dream. When she laid in bed she used to dream about being swept away by a man that would protect her and care for her. She knew this wasn't that exactly. But it almost was, and it felt good to be held and wanted.

She whimpered softly as he stroked her and held her close. She took in his touch and his smell and the warm timbre of his voice through his chest.

Grant could now feel his desire for Abby swell within his chest. And along with that, between his legs. And given the she was straddling him, he knew she would feel it too, the shifting of the bulge in his pants would almost certainly be pushing against her.

Grant whispered into her ear, his voice almost raspy with desire for her, "Can you feel that Abby? You're doing that to me. I can't control it. It means I want you."

Grant lowered his voice even more, until Abby could barely hear it. "How does that make you feel, my sweet little thing?"

What was coming over him, he had no idea. He had just uttered the words, "I can't control it."

But he didn't care.

Abby raised her head and looked at Grant. She very cautiously caressed his face.

"You don't have to control it, Master. I am your girl. That is what you told me, my body, my mind. They belong to you." She whispered.

Her hand slid down his chest. and rested on the bulge in his pants.

"You don't have to control it, Master." She looked up at him, blushing again.

Abby's words seem to call out to that buried part of Grant that was resurfacing more and more every moment. He felt himself harden even more as Abby shifted on him, grazed her hand across his chest and down to his bulge.

Grant found himself looking down at her hand. Then he gently placed his hand on her chin so she would look at him. And then, without thinking, he leaned in and did something he had never done with any of his slaves.

He ran his fingers through the back of Abby's hair, and brought his lips to hers, just grazing his against hers at first, and then moving to close that tiny distance between them, kissed her.

He kissed her and poured everything that was in him into her, holding her firmly against him, wanting her like he had never wanted anyone before.

Grant could tell - and he knew - that she had never kissed a man before. But he didn't care. In fact it was what made her even more endearing to him. Her rawness in the whole thing, yet her willingness to give herself to him.

Grant kissed Abby, and kissed her again and again, holding her against him.

"Abby," he let out between breaths, "come with me upstairs?"

It was a question.

Abby whimpered softly against his mouth. Her small hands clung to the fabric of his shirt. She melted against him.

When he asked her if she would go upstairs, she didn't have words but she nodded. She wriggled from his lap and stood beside him. And when he stood she put her hand in his.

Grant led Abby upstairs, but instead of going to her quarters, he turned to the left at the top of the stairs and headed down a series of halls to his own bedroom.

Once inside, he closed the door behind them and then picked Abby up, holding her against him, indicating that she wrap her thin little legs around him, which she did.

And Grant kissed Abby again, with complete abandon, his tongue pushing into her mouth. Then for a moment he pulled back and chuckled, as he had sensed her surprise at his pushing his tongue into her mouth.

"Abby. If you don't know what to do, just take that little hand of yours, and give a little tug on my ear. I'll slow down."

This would be her first time.

No, actually she had already had her first time. Suddenly Grant felt a deep pain within himself. He had reached the bed with Abby straddled around him, his hands holding her up against him, but now he sat down on the bed. He stopped kissing her.

He had raped her. Never before had he felt remorse for such a thing. Now, it overwhelmed him. The image of what he had done to her flashed in his minds eye. A deep pain filled him, and he just found himself incapable of continuing. Abby was still straddled around him, and he held her, but his arms loosened from her back.

He looked into Abby's eyes and moved a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Abigail." He said. "I'm... sorry."

Grant held Abby close to him again, striking her hair from behind, pulling her close to him. "I'm so sorry Abby. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I'll take care of you. I promise. Please forgive me."

Grant was frought with pain, confusion, regret, and still, his desire for her simmered underneath all of it. This was not how he had planned anything.

Abby cradled his face in her delicate hands. She didn't like to see him so upset. She made soft, sweet shushing noises.

"Master, it's okay. I am just fine. Please... it really is all right. " she kissed him with delicate baby kisses. She kissed his mouth and his jaw and his throat. Exploring. Feeling the sensation of his five o'clock shadow against her tender lips.

Abby pressed her body to his. She hid her face against his throat.

"Will this hurt like it did in the warehouse?" Her voice was timid but she tried so very hard to be brave.

She thought back to her time in her cell and she winced when she thought of him pinning her in place and forcing into her.

Grant couldn't believe his ears. And because he couldn't believe them, he swelled even more in his desire for Abby.

"No. No it's not going to be anything like that. It will never be anything like that again."

And with that, Grant planted a sweet and tender kiss on Abby's lips, and then down her neck, and then across her collarbone. Then he licked her all the way up her neck to her ear lobe, which he nibbled on, while his hands found his way to the zipper along the back of her dress. He undid it, and then ran his warm, firm hands across her delicate, smooth back. Abby could feel the strength in his hands. Strength that would never be used against her again. Their hips naturally began grinding against each other as they now began to make love on Grants bed.

"Don't think for a moment that any of this is wrong Abby." Grant let out as he ran his hands now up her thighs, bringing the dress up and over her head, letting her be in nothing but bra and underwear upon him, the visage of her perfect little frame making him so hard for her he hurt. Immediately he began kissing her along every inch of her skin - from her neck to her shoulders, down her arm, to her hand. Then back up her arm, down her chest, undoing her bra and letting it drop to the floor. Over her breasts, licking and tickling and kissing her nipples, taking them into his mouth.

"Oh God... Abby..."

Abby couldn't stay still as his mouth adored her. She gasped and moaned. Her back arched offering him more of her breasts. She cradled his head and caressed his face as he kissed and licked her pale skin.

She could feel the same heat in her tummy as he touched her.

"More please, Master. " she whispered. Her hips were almost bucking against him.

"Please, Master. It's happening again." She plead. She didn't know how to explain how aroused she was and how another climax was bubbling up under the surface.

Grant could sense that Abby was so new, so ready, that if he didn't take her now he'd miss his opportunity. He slipped her off him and onto her back on the bed behind him, and in a frenetic motion unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his belt and threw off his clothes. He pulled her underwear off her legs, and then brought himself over her, keeping his weight on his arm by her side.

Grant kissed Abby again, and then down her neck and over her breast, and then ran his fingers through her pussy once. Then he came back up and looked her in her eyes. "Abby. Are you ready?" He whispered between kissing her cheek and then her forehead. He was almost twice as big as she was, and the sight of him over her, ready to penetrate her, would have looked dangerous for her little frame, if it weren't for the fact that it was nothing but tenderness flowing from Grant for his girl.

A sweet, happy sound escaped her throat when he kissed her forehead. She looked up at him just a little bit nervously.

"I am ready, Master." Her voice was small and sweet but not filled with fear. She caressed his face and kept his gaze. "I am your girl." She whispered. She kissed his jaw and his throat. "I am your girl." She repeated.

Her lips traced down his throat and she could feel his pulse under her lips.

Grant felt a well spring of some kind of unbridled joy burst forth in his chest as he heard the word, I am your girl . He believed her. She had, remarkably, given him no reason whatsoever to doubt her. Everything about her being screamed truth.

Grant could feel the tip of his cock, wet and throbbing, just at the entrance of Abby's tight little pussy. For once, he actually found himself concerned that he not hurt his girl, for he knew that she was his, and he knew that he wanted her to love this. He kissed her softly - ever so softly - upon her lips, and then gently rested his forehead upon hers, looking deeply into her eyes. Then, he slowly, parted her pussy with his cock, pushing in slowly. She was wet. She was wet for him. And he popped his tip in and watched her. She grimaced ever so slightly, but her hand caressed his cheek, and she smiled - she actually smiled . He had never seen a girl of his smile so genuinely. And this was only the second time...

He pushed in slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon Abby's, and pushed, until he was buried inside her little body, completely.

"Are you alright, Abby?"

Abby wriggled and arched her back trying to get a little more comfortable. She gasped sharply when he filled her. But he asked if she was all right. She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"It hurts a little, but I will be just fine if you would please kiss me again." She offered in her tiny voice. She wet her lower lip with the tip of her tongue.

She slid her hands up his back and gently pulled him close.

Grant delighted at the little thing's request, and kissed her on her lips. Then he pulled his cock back a bit, but not all the way out, and then, as he pushed himself back into her he planted three soft kisses down her frail little neck. His left hand caressed her cheek, his arm resting on her other side, holding himself above her so that he wouldn't crush her petite frame with his firm, but large, body. She felt so tight, so ripe, so wet and so ready for him. But he knew it would be hard for her, so he moved back and forth within her ever so slowly, carefully, kissing her again.

"I'm really happy with you Abby, you're a perfect little girl." He whispered into her ear lovingly as he fucked her.

She closed her eyes and hid her face against his throat. She began rocking her hips, grinding her hips against his. She got breathless and her cheeks flushed deeply. She peppered his throat with baby kisses.

He had called her a perfect, little girl. She couldn't help but smile. He was pleased with her and it made her feel loved.