His Little Bird

Consultation

Ethan's POV:

Me and Birdie's birth father sit in silence, watching our two girls.

Birdie wasn't quite ready to part after dinner, leading us back to the hotel they have been staying at.

"I—I don't know about this," Birdie's birth mother says, looking ready to take off at a moments notice.

Birdie shakes her head, settling on her knees, trying to encourage her birth mother to stay.

"It's alright. It's just us, it's good to practice and get used to it, so you can do it around other people," Birdie explains.

"Around other people?" Birdie's mother asks, seeming very against that idea.

Me and Birdie share a look. "You'll get used to it. Hannah had a hard time kneeling in front of other people too until she realized that it was normal," Birdie explains, leaning against my knee as she sits at my feet.

"We might not be classified as anything, Birdie," her birth father points out.

Me and Birdie share another look.

"Your wife..."

"Marisa," he fills in.

"Your wife, Marisa, will most likely be a submissive. If not a submissive, then a switch. You'll probably be a switch or a dominant. Birdie is a natural submissive, that usually means either one or both of you can have a classification," I explain.

"...Being a submissive isn't the worth thing that could happen, right?" Marisa asks hesitantly, seeming very anxious about the whole idea.

I can see why, becoming a submissive is daunting if you haven't been raised to be one.

"Being a submissive is wonderful. Your master will take good care of you," Birdie smiles.

Marisa glances back at her husband, a blush running across her cheeks at the mentioning of a master.

"There isn't anyway that me and Mark could be separated... right? Like if he doesn't classify a certain way?" Marisa asks me and Birdie, starting to bite her nails.

"Well, you're already married in the Republic, so I doubt they would allow you to be separated. The only issue would be if you both classified as submissives, but... I don't think that will happen," I explain, petting Birdie as she curls up at my feet.

Marisa watches Birdie with dread. "So... am I expected... to do that?" I look down at Birdie, catching her questioning look as she cracks an eye open, having been half lulled to sleep by my petting.

"Sleep on the floor?"

"...and the rest of it..."

I chuckle, patting Birdie's head to make her go back to resting.

"It's all up to your master. Seeing that's your husband, it's really up to him, so you would know best what he expects from you.

"Our society expects submissives to respect and obey their master's, but beyond that I don't think there is that much of an expectation of how that is fulfilled," I explain.

"Okay... so I can still sleep in bed and stuff?"

I bite my lower lip to suppress my chuckle. "You think I make Birdie sleep on the floor?" I question in amusement. Foreigners really do have an imagination.