His Little Bird

Conclusions

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Ethan's POV

If I ever saw a dominant doing this, I would chasten them in my head for being such a poor caregiver. I don't feel like I have much of a choice though, which is why I offer Birdie yet another piece of chocolate.

She accepts it of course, another yawn following mere seconds after accepting the chocolate.

I hate feeding her this late, especially feeding her chocolate, but I think it is the only thing keeping her up.

It isn't too terribly late, but she is exhausted from playing and the stress and anxiety of meeting her birth parents.

She has luckily seemed to relax. I think it is only because she is so tired. She murmurs lazily in a tired explanation about how she used to play soccer and she would practice lots with her brothers, but Jessi and Weston would never really play with her because they didn't want to hurt her.

It's a long story with no particular aim, but her birth parents don't seem to mind, happy enough to just be with their daughter.

"Weston—Weston always plays soccer with me. Well, he won't anymore. He doesn't say it, but he thinks I'm going to be pregnant soon and doesn't want me running—"

"What?" I interject, being the first to hear of this.

Birdie pauses, a blush on her cheeks as she looks at me. "Weston got Hannah pregnant the first week they got married...

"He thinks I'm pregnant. He rubs my stomach every time he sees me. He did that to Hannah when she was pregnant."

"Why didn't you tell him you weren't pregnant?" I'm not upset, but I find it comical she wouldn't tell him.

"Well... he... You're going to be mad at me," she giggles.

"Why? Birdie, tell me," I laugh, starting to tickle her.

"He... he feeds me whatever I want!" She admits, squealing as she tries to escape me.

"...I... I feed you what you want..." I frown in confusion.

"He thinks I'm having cravings, so he gives me chocolate whenever I ask. Ah! Master, please!" Birdie squeals as I continue to tickle her.

"Birdie! Is that why you want to keep going over there!"

"It's not the only reason, Master." I shake my head at her.

"Sneaky, sneaky! Tomorrow morning you're marching over there and telling him you aren't pregnant, Birdie."

"No..." Birdie whines.

If we were alone I'd bend her over and spank her, but I know she's tired and it's my fault because I keep feeding her chocolate to have her stay awake.

"No?"

She shrinks with one stern look.

"I...I like when he rubs my stomach..."

... Did she change her mind?

Does she want to be pregnant?

"...Baby, you're not pregnant. He's gonna be disappointed when you don't start getting a baby bump in a few months. That's not fair to him, Birdie..."

She doesn't respond, playing with her fingers.

"Well you could fix that part—" Ellie giggles, her laughter muffled by her husbands hand.