His grip on her wrists was harsh and a little frightening. Iris had said something wrong, or right, or… she couldn’t tell what he wanted. His blood was confused too, which was strange. It had been deafening in the confidence of its roar, when her mother stem’s roots had accepted his life. Iris flinched, but did not try to draw away. She was confused, because he said he didn’t want what he’d quite precisely paid for, but his hands seemed intent. She the tender junction of her radius and ulna flex toward one another and shudder. Her skin spilled bruises like ink, eloquent on her shimmering skin. “Master?” she started, a small gasp, her lower lip quivering while her stare implored that he continue.<br/><br/>“You may want to hurt me how ever you wish?” she offered when he asked. Iris felt he’d understood the concept. Of course he owned her. When he molested the raw and dripping space where her antler-twig had been, she made a strange sound. It was halfway between a moan and a cry, strangled in her throat as she bowed her head again. He could have whatever he wanted.<br/><br/>When he began to break the lengths of the antler, she began to taste the ghost of panic. It was more cruel than it had to be, though she’d never protest it. He could have sheered it off with the discarded knife or snapped it like a frozen branch. This was dismemberment for its novelty, and she bled the viscous honey of her fruit-tree sap blended with his own crimson colloid. It caressed her forehead after it had traced the length of the abused antler, and she had to blink to keep it out of her eyes. “Master, please,” she sounded genuinely frightened, which made her shiver in curious ways. “I’ll die if you destroy them both.” She whimpered, reaching one hand to touch the base of the woody horn he was breaking. “Please take them but…” she had nothing to finish the sentence. There could not be exceptions to his permissions. “I would like the chance to serve you,” she said instead. A tiny plea for him to take rather than destroy, but it wasn’t wholly convincing. The worlds curled past her lips like there was ecstasy buried in the promise of torment. It was only their first moment together. She had so much else to offer him, if he wished for things to break. That thought, too, made her quake.<br/><br/>Her large eyes closed when his other hand went to seek her other offerings. He would find her warm and human to his touch. She mewled before her chest pushed forth a shuddering exhale. If he lingered, he’d find that she was growing slick for his fingertips. “Yes. I love this.” She mumbled, even as large tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and tangled with her lashes. She wasn’t lying, and part of her seemed to relish the fear of death and the little agony of his peeling her antler apart.