Every day she came back with food between her talons. Usually raw meat from rabbits or foxes, which she chewed little pieces off, serving some of them to you. The first times were tough, as you could not get yourself to eat raw meat, but your new mistress would wait and watch, not satisfied until you had stuffed some of it inside your crying face. Your stomach groaned and complained, but luckily, she also brought fruit and veggies.
You were just grateful that she kept you alive, and you always looked up at her with gratitude, as you laid there on your knees with hands filled with food she just dropped. Kissing her talons to prove it, since words were gibberish to her, there was no other way to communicate with her than actions and body language.
And you watched her body language carefully. The second she came home; all your attention was directed towards her. Watching her so very carefully and listening patiently on everything she emitted, making sure she was happy with your movement, just so you could avoid displeasing her and get scratched to a bloody pulp.
You knew she liked hearing you whimper, as she often would dominate you at random times, placing herself on you wherever you were laying at the moment, gentle digging her talons into your nude flesh, while you laid perfectly still like the trapped animal you were. Using you as a doormat, while you softly sniffled beneath her, bowing down your head in pain, hiding it in the ground, as she bit your shoulder and mildly screeched into your ear, trying not to react, allowing her to do whatever she pleased, soon leaving you bleeding on the cold ground.
The first times you softly cried and curdle up into a ball after she had done that to you, but these days you struggled to get yourself up and sobbingly crawl to her side, licking her blood-soaked talons as If it was your fault they got messy in the first place, while hoping she would lick your wounds in return as she sometimes did.
It did not last long before your entire body was filled with scares. Feeling so defeated and broken, as your entire body was a reminder of her. She liked it. She liked how her little pet was branded and marked, caressing your wounds to remind you of the time she gave you them. Those painful memories being deeply inserted into your brain, making your body shiver softly as she touched them, stroked them, so proud of her doings, and her little trophy pet.
You just tried to live. There was no reasoning with her, and you could not stop her. You were naked and vulnerable to her sharp claws and threating size; your life was in her hands and she knew it. Treating you as a harmless animal, letting you lay so close to her in her nest, and leaves you alone in the cave for hours without fear of you leaving. You were too scared to leave, so you just stayed, and waited on her to come back, greeting her with leg kisses, as she fed you and did to you whatever her instincts wanted. Being such a loyal, faithful, and submissive pet to her, scared, weak and quivering.
The only comfort you had was her. At night you would snuggle into her body, her soft feathers keeping you warm at night, and her breathing and heartbeat a soothing lullaby for your sniffling, scared and cold body. You felt weirdly safe when you laid in her embrace, as you convinced yourself you were under her protection.
It felt also more caring the times where she cleaned you with her tongue, licking your wounds after she had scratched you silly or when she had mated with you. You felt loved in those moments, which might have made you want to stay even more in this abusive relationship.
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