Loki had found you on Jötunheimr, shivering and cold. He decided to bring you back to the palace, and because of the customs of the Jötun people, you were forced to take on the role of being called his 'Pet' to your utmost dismay. (Loki didn't seem to mind, however- now, in the presence of any other Jötun you were forced to call Loki either 'Sire' or 'Master to keep up the act. Eugh.) Other Jötun saw Midgardians (Humans) as inferior, after all.

Which brings you to now. A few months later. You and Loki were attending a feast in Utgard, where he spoke to the other Jötun about Jötun politics and such. (Not that you were so interested in the matter.)

You were on a nest of fluffy pelts and blankets to stay warm in the freezing temperatures of Jötunheimr, besides where Loki sat. Plus, he had bestowed a charm upon you to keep you warm, as you were a Midgardian, not equipped to so easily handle the cold.

A Jötun servant (regular sized, for a Jötun, 7ft,) had been eying you the whole time, until he paused, next to you. Then, without warning, he promptly pinched your cheek. Hard. Harder than he realized, probably. He was probably just over-curious, but your cheek reddened at the harsh pinch.

You made a small sound of discomfort, and Loki's voice boomed across the room. "It would be wise to leave my Mortal alone." He growled, glaring daggers to the servant.