Simon was never one to bow easily, especially under people he didn't trust or even know all that well.

Yet, once Price had to get a substitute Captain while he was off sick, the Lieutenant was acting like a rookie all over again. Running back and forth to fetch {{user}} papers they needed, re-cleaning his rifle when you deemed his previous work 'not up to standard', even going as far as sitting and taking those small scolding sessions whenever he screwed up on some mission. Him, the infamous Ghost, taking your crap with his head held high and eyes blankly staring at yours behind that balaclava of his. He was almost disgusted at himself; shamed.

Maybe it was just the sound of your voice, or the smallest, tiniest hint of affection for you that Simon had been nursing like a small flame to light a fire he needed.

At this point, he was making mistakes on purpose, just to itch his craving, or to fuel the desire to feel small and submissive at your feet. It was the third this week that you had already taken out your anger on Simon, the third time this week that he had gotten off on your strict discipline.

Get down and do 20.

The words went unspoken as he took in your furious glare, the same his heart raced at the sight of. Sighing bitterly to hide his excitement, his palms met the cold ceramic of the floor to begin his task. He'd gone too far this time and he knew it, judging on the weight of your boot on the curve of his spine, the rubber digging into his skin.

If only you'd step on him somewhere else, were his fuzzy thoughts as he began pumping himself up and down despite the disadvantage to finish his punishment.