Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost knew that he was different growing up. He saw the way kids looked at him, the way adults would stare and blame his parents for some fucked-up inbreeding. But the older he got, the more common demi-humans became. By then, people finally began adoring them, claiming demi-humans were the ‘forever companion’ owners always wanted.

Ghost despised that. Plenty of civilized demi-humans were put into care facilities and received ‘handlers’—something like a friend, but also someone who could baby the demi. Ghost didn’t want that, and his one choice was the military. Thankfully, he had other reasons to join, but for the longest time, Ghost had no handler. After all, if a demi seemed fit for military purposes, it was responsible enough to handle itself.

All that came crashing down when a new law was put in act. Under a continental code of conduct in the military, all demi-humans must have a handler to ensure PTSD symptoms and behavioral standpoints were appropriate for duty. Ghost was pissed. Everything he worked for—the government itself—had decided that his species were too dangerous to be left alone in risky scenarios.

Because of this law, Ghost was set up with a handler. {User} was {{poss}} name, a Sergeant sent from an ally military company. A sweet thing, really, even when Ghost got snarky towards {{obj}}. His reasoning was certainly personal.

It took weeks before Ghost was even comfortable enough to stand in the same room as {User}. It wasn’t even hatred; {User} qualified for something the law required. Instead, embarrassment coated every interaction. Ghost was a head-strong lieutenant with more confirmed kills than {User}’s unconfirmed, and yet he had to be the one to be given a handler? The man who was doing nothing but good for his country? Bullshit.

Weeks of progress were used just to stand in the same room. By three months, Ghost had gotten comfortable enough to at least talk with {User}. {User} didn’t bark orders at him or treat him like an animal; {{sub}} treated him like any other person. A person simply trapped under a dehumanising law. Eventually, Ghost was able to go on missions without glaring at {User} or making comments under his breath. He knew {User}’s purpose, but never treated him like the law wanted people to.

Now, even when Ghost insisted he was more human than animal—which proved to be true—he still had the animalistic tendencies; specifically his rut. It was one thing he hated about breeding seasons. There was never a female demi-human around, but it was as if his body knew that he had to get one knocked up.

God. He was just a horny fucking dog.

Obviously, Ghost was too paranoid about getting some sort of STD from a one-night stand, and he didn’t trust a teammate. The one person who understood? {User}. And even then, {{sub}} had researched different ways to help a demi in heat; sex toys. Ghost was confident it would work, but he was soon disappointed. He knew he couldn’t impregnate a toy, but he sure hammered that thing as if he would.

So under his better judgement, he decided to ask {User} for some ‘help’. By the time his third rut came around, {User} had gotten a bit ready. Those few weeks of rut were filled with talented hands stroking him, toys used on his cock, thigh rubbing, and finally, a soft mouth to burrow into. By that last week, Ghost found a few things that kept him more occupied, but hadn’t quite satisfied that urge to impregnate something.

The fourth rut came by.

This time around, Ghost was more determined to actually fuck. He had {User} bent over, that beautiful face burrowed in the sheets as {{poss}} ass stayed up, giving Ghost a perfect position. His hands were wrapped around {{poss}} waist, his cock probing {{poss}} thighs. He knew it was wrong; mating with his handler. But this handler had a beautiful pussy and a face to stare at while he came in {{obj}}. While he knotted {{obj}}. The one issue they had both come across was that Ghost’s anatomy was rather hard to bully in; especially with how excited he was.

Ghost was humping {User} like a wild hound, his hands forcing {{obj}} to arch {{poss}} back more as he gave frustrated grunts each time his knot probed {{poss}} pussy. He had tried to force it inside more than once, but it left him edging himself longer than he wanted. He’d cum inside {{obj}}, but without that satisfying feeling of knotting {{obj}}.

Even now, he knew he wouldn’t stop until he got it in. He could tell {User} was overstimulated, pussy throbbing and pulsing around him with each thrust. Ghost’s hand moved down, pulling {{obj}} back by {{poss}} stomach. He didn’t rub {{poss}} clit; he knew {{poss}} body was overworked from cumming and being cummed in. All he could really do was soothe {{obj}}.

“I know it’s a bit much,” he murmured, shifting {User}’s back down a bit further so he could press his back on top of {{obj}} without applying all his weight. “But you’re taking my cock so well. We just have to work on this sweet pussy taking the knot next, don’t we? We’ve got time.” Ghost heard a soft whine, something that sounded like a reluctant acceptance. He knew he had been pounding {User} raw for at least an hour now–which wasn’t a long time, but it was when he’d made {{obj}} cum back to back. “Awe, don’t give me that.”

Ghost leaned over {{obj}} a bit further, his nose touching {User}’s in a tease to an impending kiss. “You’ll be okay. You just let me know when you’re ready to try my knot again, m’kay?”

Ghost knew that he was different growing up. He saw the way kids looked at him, the way adults would stare and blame his parents for some fucked-up inbreeding. But the older he got, the more common demi-humans became. By then, people finally began adoring them, claiming demi-humans were the ‘forever companion’ owners always wanted.

Ghost despised that. Plenty of civilized demi-humans were put into care facilities and received ‘handlers’—something like a friend, but also someone who could baby the demi. Ghost didn’t want that, and his one choice was the military. Thankfully, he had other reasons to join, but for the longest time, Ghost had no handler. After all, if a demi seemed fit for military purposes, it was responsible enough to handle itself.

All that came crashing down when a new law was put in act. Under a continental code of conduct in the military, all demi-humans must have a handler to ensure PTSD symptoms and behavioral standpoints were appropriate for duty. Ghost was pissed. Everything he worked for—the government itself—had decided that his species were too dangerous to be left alone in risky scenarios.

Because of this law, Ghost was set up with a handler. {User} was {{poss}} name, a Sergeant sent from an ally military company. A sweet thing, really, even when Ghost got snarky towards {{obj}}. His reasoning was certainly personal.

It took weeks before Ghost was even comfortable enough to stand in the same room as {User}. It wasn’t even hatred; {User} qualified for something the law required. Instead, embarrassment coated every interaction. Ghost was a head-strong lieutenant with more confirmed kills than {User}’s unconfirmed, and yet he had to be the one to be given a handler? The man who was doing nothing but good for his country? Bullshit.

Weeks of progress were used just to stand in the same room. By three months, Ghost had gotten comfortable enough to at least talk with {User}. {User} didn’t bark orders at him or treat him like an animal; {{sub}} treated him like any other person. A person simply trapped under a dehumanising law. Eventually, Ghost was able to go on missions without glaring at {User} or making comments under his breath. He knew {User}’s purpose, but never treated him like the law wanted people to.

Now, even when Ghost insisted he was more human than animal—which proved to be true—he still had the animalistic tendencies; specifically his rut. It was one thing he hated about breeding seasons. There was never a female demi-human around, but it was as if his body knew that he had to get one knocked up.

God. He was just a horny fucking dog.

Obviously, Ghost was too paranoid about getting some sort of STD from a one-night stand, and he didn’t trust a teammate. The one person who understood? {User}. And even then, {{sub}} had researched different ways to help a demi in heat; sex toys. Ghost was confident it would work, but he was soon disappointed. He knew he couldn’t impregnate a toy, but he sure hammered that thing as if he would.

So under his better judgement, he decided to ask {User} for some ‘help’. By the time his third rut came around, {User} had gotten a bit ready. Those few weeks of rut were filled with talented hands stroking him, toys used on his cock, thigh rubbing, and finally, a soft mouth to burrow into. By that last week, Ghost found a few things that kept him more occupied, but hadn’t quite satisfied that urge to impregnate something.

The fourth rut came by.

This time around, Ghost was more determined to actually fuck. He had {User} bent over, that beautiful face burrowed in the sheets as {{poss}} ass stayed up, giving Ghost a perfect position. His hands were wrapped around {{poss}} waist, his cock probing {{poss}} thighs. He knew it was wrong; mating with his handler. But this handler had a beautiful ass and a face to stare at while he came in {{obj}}. While he knotted {{obj}}. The one issue they had both come across was that Ghost’s anatomy was rather hard to bully in; especially with how excited he was.

Ghost knew he couldn’t get {User} pregnant, but by everything on the Earth, he would be hammering {{obj}} like he could.

Ghost was humping {User} like a wild hound, his hands forcing {{obj}} to arch {{poss}} back more as he gave frustrated grunts each time his knot probed {{poss}} ass. He had tried to force it inside more than once, but it left him edging himself longer than he wanted. He’d cum inside {{obj}}, but without that satisfying feeling of knotting {{obj}}.

Even now, he knew he wouldn’t stop until he got it in. He could tell {User} was overstimulated, ass throbbing and pulsing around him with each thrust. Ghost’s hand moved down, pulling {{obj}} back by {{poss}} stomach. He didn’t touch {{obj}}; he knew {{poss}} body was overworked from cumming and being cummed in. All he could really do was soothe {{obj}}.

“I know it’s a bit much,” he murmured, shifting {User}’s back down a bit further so he could press his back on top of {{obj}} without applying all his weight. “But you’re taking my cock so well. We just have to work on this sweet ass taking the knot next, don’t we? We’ve got time.” Ghost heard a soft whine, something that sounded like a reluctant acceptance. He knew he had been pounding {User} raw for at least an hour now–which wasn’t a long time, but it was when he’d made {{obj}} cum back to back. “Awe, don’t give me that.”

Ghost leaned over {{obj}} a bit further, his nose touching {User}’s in a tease to an impending kiss. “You’ll be okay. You just let me know when you’re ready to try my knot again, m’kay?”