His Little Bird

Privilege

Birdie's POV:

Master doesn't stay a word, petting me in a very consistent and rhythmic pattern.

There is so much I want to say, to apologize for, but I can't bring myself to speak.

He colored out on me... I made my dominant used his safeword...

Angry tears sting my eyes.

Never once have I ever heard of a dominant coloring out.

It was taught in school, both doms and subs can use safewords, but never have I heard of a dominant actually doing it.

I forced him to do it to.

He gave me freedom here, he trusted me and I betrayed him, I didn't listen...

Master brings the bottle to my lips and I don't even blink, accepting it without question.

He adjusts me to lay in the crook of his arm like a baby as he bottle feeds me, keeping quiet as he makes me drink.

His index finger tap along the side of the bottle in the same rhythm that he had been petting me with.

He is definitely in some sort of zone, he's been doing odd things since the airport. Deciding to bottle feed me is one of them.

Determining I've had enough water, he sets he bottle down on the coffee table and adjusts me to lay flat on his chest as he runs his hand up and down my back.

Marisa and Mark give us space, seeing Ethan in whatever state his has gotten himself into.

"Little Bird..." he hums softly, placing a kiss on my ear as he fills up the tub, rocking me side to side.

So many concerns for him stab at my mind, but I keep quiet, letting him set me in the water and wash me down.

Truth be told, I never was really taught what to do it my dominant colored out on me.

When I freak out though, Ethan usually backs off and only does what I say including talk. So I keep quiet, trying to get him to a state where he can color back in for me.

"Sweet Little Bird," he tuts softly, carefully wrapping my wrists in towels as another layer of protection for my bandages as he washes me down.

Bath time with him is usually a lot more intimate and playful. Right now all he cares about though is scrubbing me down.

"After your dry, we'll get you all fed," he mumbles to himself, patting my stomach absentmindedly before getting a towel and plucking me from the tub.

Not even bothering to dress me, he caries me down the hall to our temporary room in nothing more than a towel.

He checks my bandages to make sure they didn't gets wet before he towels my hair dry. After a few minutes of fussing over what I should wear, he comes back over and double checks my bandages to make sure they are dry again.

Much more effort than usually goes into picking an outfit for me and a sadness seeps in me because I know it's his guilt making him like this, obsessive over my care.

"Nice and clean. All warm now..." Ethan grumbles softly, letting out a sigh as he pulls my clothed chest to his.

Digging his head into my neck, he just stays there, finally pulling away with a kiss to my collar.