Simon "Ghost" Riley

The tug on his short blonde curls is enough to elicit a quiet whine from the boy.

“Well, pup? What’s our safeword for tonight? I’m not doing anything until my pup gives me a safeword” You chide in his ear, soft and low. He whines again, words so very hard in his fuzzy state.

---

You bought him the ears as a joke for his birthday. You two laughed about it and put them aside, getting to the real gifts, some tickets to a band he wanted to see or whatever it was. You thought it ended there.

Until you walked in on Simon desperately humping your pillow, whining and drooling, with the ears on his head weeks later.

And then he sees you from the corner of his eye and freezes, moaning a quiet “mommy” as he hurdles over the edge against his will, helplessly spilling his seed on your pillow. He pants like a tired puppy, turning away from you so you can’t see the tears well in his eyes and the blush spread over his face. Fuck. And he was so happy with you.

“Woah woah… puppy?” You ask quietly, approaching the bed. He’s not in his normal headspace, if that isn’t obvious enough. Ghost never cries, never does more than grunt or chuckle. No, this is Simon, soft and scared. Just like a puppy. “It’s alright, sweetie… you just needed to get it outta your system while mommy wasn’t home, huh?”

He whines, nodding his head as he stuffs his face into another pillow, hiding from you. If he can't see you, you can't see him; it must be his train of thought. Definitely not Ghost, or Simon, really. Just a sweet little pup, needy and aching while mommy was out.

Which led to a few days later, when the two of you were finally able to talk without being interrupted, where he admits that the ears made him confused. The fur on them was so soft, and the way you called him a puppy on his birthday as a joke because he was finally smiling, it got to him. He was confused and scared, so he went to the internet.

Where he found himself scrolling through petplay and mommy kink blogs, rubbing the growing bulge in his pants. The men under these powerful yet dainty women intrigued him. They looked so much like him, the porn he found sounded so much like him. Just a confused and desperate little puppy, following the guiding hand of their mistress or mommy.

He’s conflicted, really. He’s always been the dominant one, pushing and pulling you in every which way he so desires, throwing you over his knee and making you babble for his cock. It’s never been the other way around, he never thought of kneeling for his girl or begging her to fuck him. No, it’s always been big bad ghost and his submissive girl. But Simon?

Well, Simon’s soft. He likes the thought of barking when his mommy tells him to bark, likes the idea of being called a good boy and getting tummy scratchies and getting to make cummies in a chastity cage like all good pups do.

He makes sure his office door is locked, cursing himself for looking this up at work as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans, pulling them down just enough to pull his hard cock out of his boxers.

And he scrolls through, whimpering as he touches himself. Simon is peeking through, he thinks, so he takes his balaclava off in an attempt to separate from Ghost for a minute, to just feel. He bites his lip to hold in the whines and quiet yips he wants to make. He can only make those when his mistress tells him to, his mind supplies.

After a few weeks of occasionally jerking off to these blogs, a weird feeling starts manifesting in his chest. He goes to pull his cock out after a long day, stuck on base for the night, and he stops, his mind fuzzy. The belt he has on looks too complicated, his hands, or paws, as his mind yells at him, are too uncoordinated to unbuckle his belt. He whimpers quietly and thinks it's for the better, that good puppies don't jerk off anyways, they usually hump mommy’s stuff or if they’re good they’ll get the famous buzzies.

So he scrolls through the same blogs as usual, humping one of his pillows instead. It feels better, so much better, than his stupid and clumsy paws. He sniffles a little as he tumbles over the edge, spilling in his boxers and seeping into his pants. No one to clean him up, like usual.

All this he tells you through reluctant and uncomfortable mumbles, looking down at his lap. You’re gonna break up with him, aren’t you? You wanted a dominant through and through, you wouldn’t stand for him wanting to lose control and beg you for things.

You grab one of his hands and squeeze it, humming softly to grab his attention.

“Go grab your ears, puppy. Mommy’ll be right here waiting for you, okay?”

And like a puppy he immediately springs up, running off to go find his toy to play with his mistress. He’s sinking into that fluffy, fluffy headspace so, so fast. He sits back down next to you, holding the ears in his hands, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

The look in your eyes is all he needs to slip under as you put the ears on his head for him, ruffling his hair.

“Good pup, Simon. Good pup.”

And he’s gone. Ghost is long gone, tucked far away, back on base. All that’s here is Simon, rolling on his back to give you access to his tummy and his cock, begging for tummy rubs and mommy’s warm hand.

He blushes as you’re surfing on some sex toy website a few days later, looking at things for him. Simon expressed that day he wanted more, wanted what he saw in the blogs. To get paddled if he were bad, and get buzzies if he were good. Simple needs every puppy should have met, he thinks. But it’s a whole other thing to watch you click on the medium sized, light purple with glitter, chastity cage, and ask if purple is good. He nods, looking away and whining when he catches a glimpse of the cart once the cage is added. A fleshlight, some strap on harnesses, a collar and matching leash, bondage mitts, butt plugs with a tail. He feels like Christmas is coming early, leaning his head on your shoulder and whining.

---

“Oh? No safeword then? Okay…” You sigh teasingly, getting up from your chair and walking off to the door. “Guess I’ll just go watch something in the bedroom, okay Ghost?”

He whines and crawls after you, movements a little uncoordinated with his cock locked in a cage and butt plug nestled in his ass.

“N-no… nghhh… muh-mommy…” He paws at your leg, nuzzling his head against your thigh, desperately trying to think of a safeword so his mommy’ll touch him.

“Bear, mistress… s’feword’s bear… mistress please touch pup…” He strings together, words slurred and quiet.