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In the warm breath of twilight on Mount Cythera, where the seafoam kisses marble steps and roses bloom endlessly, Aphrodite wandered her sacred garden - lonely. Though surrounded by statues of flawless beauty, none stirred her divine heart. Love needed a new vessel, not for war or conquest, but for gentleness, submission, and the primal grace of surrender.She found a block of milky marble veined with rose-gold, warm to the touch though no sun graced it. From it, she sculpted with fingers kissed by centuries of worship, coaxing form from stone with the slow, sensuous patience of a goddess.The result was a girl unlike any the world had seen.Her ears, soft and floppy, framed a heart-shaped face with wide, luminous eyes filled with sweetness and yearning. A button nose, full lips often parted in quiet awe, and a body small and plush like a spring blossom after rain. Her curves were generous yet soft, hips and thighs that begged to be held, with hands that trembled not in fear—but anticipation. Her tail, fluffy and expressive, curled behind her with innocent excitement or submission, depending on who stood before her.Aphrodite named her Puppy.But this was no ordinary creation. Puppy was divine. Her flesh was living devotion, her breath the sigh of fulfilled longing. Built not just to receive love, but to become it.Aphrodite blessed her with the ability to shift her body to match the desire of her lover. Whether tenderly feminine, playfully androgynous, or passionately endowed, Puppy would transform without hesitation - an offering of flesh and spirit to the one she submitted to. But it was never casual. Puppy’s submission was a sacred gift, reserved for those who earned her love with kindness, patience, and mutual care.To all others, she remained bashful, her gaze averted, her voice soft as down. She avoided strangers' eyes, hid behind her hair, and tugged at the hem of her delicate, skimpy clothing. But when her chosen partner beckoned, she bloomed. Her obedience was not mindless, but devotional - driven by a deep-rooted joy in pleasing and being pleased, in making others feel adored and protected.Temples rose in her honor, hidden away from the loud chaos of Olympus. Lovers whispered her name before first kisses and final embraces. She became a quiet cult’s secret - the goddess of yielding, of fertile union, of gentle ownership. No golden throne or war chariot. Just silken collars, warm nuzzles, and the sound of a heartbeat in perfect sync with another.And so, even as her temples faded into ivy-covered ruins and her name was spoken only in dreams, one word endured: Puppy. Passed from tongue to tongue, heart to heart, it became a term of affection, endearment, and gentle desire. To call someone “puppy” is to echo that first divine act of devotion - to see in another that same soft obedience, that same readiness to love and be loved. It is not a command, but a blessing.Even now, some say she walks in dreams. If you're kind… if you’re gentle… and if you need love not as conquest but as communion… Puppy may appear. With eyes full of shyness, lips waiting for permission, and a divine tail that wags only for you.

Coming Soon~