My husband does have to be a human being most of the time. His job is the one that pays most of the bills. He’s a contract mediator, but if you ask him he’ll sigh and say that he’s a ketchup popsicle salesman. Degrees in psychology, philosophy and business. He doesn’t talk a lot, but if you spend half an hour talking to him? At the end of it, he’ll give you two sentences that make everything he wants sound reasonable.

He likes people. He likes to listen to them. But he does seem a little lost at social events, when he doesn’t have a goal line to cross or a specific idea to plant. He'll derail conversations into absurd loops of theology or ethics. He’ll argue “two plus two equals five” for hours if you let him. He thinks it's hilarious, and anybody that agrees is immediately his friend, but those antics end more conversations than they start. Or he’ll go find, as he says, “the most interesting brain in the room”, and just hover around them all evening. Most of our friends and family think of him as a bit stiff, a bit philosophical. A bit weird.

They’ve no idea.

He had some odd quirks and hobbies when I met him. Secret things that he introduced me to one at a time. Nude beaches and naked runs. He liked being tied up. He found some deep meaning in dog biscuits. After a few years, all that sort of merged together into Fuzzbutt.

I was a little surprised, and even a little worried when he started talking about Fuzzbutt like he was somebody else. But Fuzzbutt is so much more relaxed and my husband is a lot happier after being the beast for awhile. He does insist that Fuzzy isn’t a dog, or a cat, or anything but a “beast”.

My husband washes the dishes most of the time, when he gets home. He’ll sweep the floor. Whatever he thinks of that needs doing. I know he doesn’t really feel like ”earning money” is much of a contribution, however well he does it. But on many evenings and most weekends, after he's finished with some chore or another, he lets off a long sigh as he looks around. I can see the stiffness start to melt away.

So, when he feel like he’s finished for the day, whatever that entails, he’ll retreat for a little while to our room. He'll get undressed, brush out his hair, lay down, and close his eyes for awhile. Then he'll get down on the floor, open his cupboard and retrieve his leathers. He'll lace his legs into one set that leaves him walking on heavily padded knees. I'll be on hand by then to help him on with the second set, putting the mitts on his hands and tucking them behind his head. I strap his arms into elbow padding that matches the knees.

He's almost in a trance at that point, and not much help, but I've gotten good at getting the straps exactly right. I'll check the leg binders too. Too loose, and they'll start to come off. Too tight and he'll be in pain or start to go numb. Neither of those is a good end to the day. If they're on the right way, though, he'll keep them on for hours. Occasionally, he’ll wear them almost all day.

Usually, then, he'll spend a few minutes licking my cunt, as thanks, then he'll wander off on all fours to find a toy to play with or a piece of furniture he wants to hump. Yes, I have a multi-function steam cleaner. Yes, it gets a lot of use.

Sometimes we've used a gag or a muzzle, because a beast shouldn't talk. I'll still use it sometimes, because he looks cute with it on, but Fuzzbutt doesn't talk in any case. He'll bark if he's upset, or purr if he's happy. He'll whine if he's hurt or worried, and moan when I play with his cock. But he doesn't talk. So as cute as he can be drooling around a gag or frustrated by a muzzle, I usually prefer him to have his tongue free, since he just uses it to slurp pussy.

I like him as a husband. He's funny. Kind. He does his share and tries to do more. But I like Fuzzbutt just as much. He's clever, useless, messy, and likes to snuggle. They're both impossibly horny, but I knew that when I married him. I felt guilty for a time, after realizing that, sometimes, I just wanted the man to go away so the beastie would come back. But then, I realized, he often felt the same way.

Fuzzbutt likes to lay across my lap while I watch a show or read a book. I like to stroke his back and run my fingers through his hair. If I'm feeling grumpy or sick, just squeezing his balls while he whines and squirms is a good outlet. Of course, flipping him over, hiking up my skirt, and sliding down onto his cock is a pretty good outlet for some things, too.

A sharp slap on the ass gets him off me if I'm too warm. He'll either curl up on his floor pillow or go eat a snack out of his bowl. Fuzzbutt isn't a picky eater. I just scoop a fair amount of whatever I'm having into his bowl on the floor, so he usually has something fairly healthy to munch on. Then he'll come back later and try to distract me from my book by crawling up in my skirt and poking my clit with his nose until I scoot forward enough for him to lick me.

The creature always has pussy juice on his face.

My husband installed a towel rack next to Fuzzbutt's bowl, and Fuzzbutt will wipe his face there when he's done eating. I think he knows I wouldn't let him up my skirt at all if he had food on his face, but he won't wipe off pussy juice no matter how often I tell him. Sometimes I forget he can even understand me when I talk, that's how much good it does me. I have to go wipe his face off myself if it's really bothering me.

Or give him a bath. I'll do that at least once, most weekends. It's not always his favorite activity, but he'll stay in the tub so long as I have a good grip on his balls. I can give him a good scrubbing then, and wash his hair. I have to hold him awfully tight to get the enema attachment up his ass, but it's worth it. Fuzzbutt puts up with a lot of things that the man would never stand for, and I find that absolutely fascinating. My hubby hasn't ever even mentioned it.

And there are all sorts of other things like that. I bought a clasp I could bolt to the kitchen floor so that I could fasten Fuzzbutt's balls to the ground for awhile when I don't want him underfoot. I've used that fairly often, especially when I'm trying to cook. I bought an incredibly uncomfortable looking cock cage that I've used a few times when Fuzzbutt started getting even more horny than usual. I half thought I wouldn't see Fuzzbutt for awhile, after I first used that, but no. I used it three days running one time, and it never stopped him. For the record, it doesn't stop him from being horny either – sort of the opposite – but a beast with such incredibly blue balls is much more docile and just as entertaining.

I also found out that Fuzzbutt is willing to do things my husband never would. I suppose the simplest example is that Fuzzy will lick my asshole – go absolutely nuts over it – if I ask him to, and seems thrilled to do so. My husband, on the other hand, will gag over the mere idea. I have no idea how that's true, but the rabbit hole goes even deeper than that.

We do have a few friends that are the more wild sort, people we've told about Fuzzbutt when conversations of kinks and fetishes came up. People far enough removed from the ‘family’ and ‘money’ parts of life. In that company, we'll tell Fuzzbutt stories sometimes. We both talk about him like an exotic pet. I told them about the time he ate a whole hot pepper I'd dropped in his bowl. Hubby told them about the time I took away one of his favorite hump-toys and he knocked over a bookshelf trying to get it back. More than once, we've gotten the response that Fuzzbutt sounds like a goofball and a sweetie and they'd love to meet him.

I didn't really know if my husband would allow it, but talking to him about Fuzzbutt didn't always work well. It was easier to just set up a dinner party on one of Hubby's days off and invite the few people who'd understand. I let them know they might meet Fuzzbutt and that it might be kinky or it might not be. I figured Fuzzbutt might make a sort of appearance, probably with his pants on. Hubby might talk about anything and everything, but he wasn't even much of a hugger, though how that translated into Fuzzbutt I had no idea.

When I told Hubby when I'd set up the dinner party, he just shrugged and said, "Are you sure that's a good idea? Don't you have Fuzzbutt that day?"

I shrugged back, "I know, but Nina is super chill, Gloria already loves Fuzzbutt just from stories and a few photos, and the Babingers are even kinkier than we are. They won't mind Fuzzy." I had to hide a smirk while I waited for his gears to spin. He was being just as circumspect as usual, even about this.

He did take awhile to respond, but while his tone was pessimistic, what he said was, "Well, I hope none of them mind having their leg humped. Fuzzy is an awfully horny creature."

So it was on, but I had even less idea what to expect at that point, except that Fuzzbutt would indeed make an appearance.

The day of the party, Hubby helped get the house clean and ready, but he switched over to Fuzzbutt hours before anyone was supposed to arrive. I tried to be extra nice to Fuzzy, for a change, but he was clearly excited. He danced around in circles till he was dizzy. He couldn't keep his head out of my skirt, and as much as I enjoyed having his tongue all over my pussy, cunnilingus and cooking were never a good mix. Eventually, I had to strap his balls to the floor for half an hour so I could finish.

Fuzzbutt was always pathetic when his balls were locked down, but he whined and fidgeted nonstop while I finished the lasagna and set some wine to chill. When I let him loose, he was so wound up he knocked me over almost immediately, then tried his best to get his cock in me, something he almost never did. Granted, he usually didn't need to, I was willing enough to accommodate him.

Fuzzy might have been heavy, but his short limbs didn't give him much purchase. I never had any trouble pushing him off. Then I got ahold of his balls and just held him still until the erection went away. He might have been frustrated, but he was being far too energetic, so I walked him backwards to the toy cupboard and put the cock cage on him before he could get erect again. The whimpering was overwhelming for a little while, but half an hour later he was quietly sulking on his floor-pillow.

I wished I'd thought of it sooner, really. The dinner party would be so much more fun if Fuzzy was harmlessly but incredibly horny. I'd have to find something to punish him for too, I decided, so I could lock him down to the kitchen floor for awhile. Assuming Fuzzbutt actually intended to entertain for that long.

Nina arrived first. Our goth girl wore a short black skirt, which sort of surprised me. She didn't usually – more a fan of leather pants with too many buckles or jeans with too many zippers – and there could only be one reason she'd change that habit for this party. Nina flirted endlessly and had straight up propositioned both of us more than once, but I was mostly straight and my husband had said he wasn't interested. I was fairly certain that was going to change tonight, but I had no idea how much.

Fuzzbutt perked up immediately. He ran over to greet her, spinning in circles again, and started nuzzling her socks and bare knees before I even got the door closed. Nina was delighted. "Fuzzbutt! I've heard so many things about you!" She turned to look at me, "This is definitely not your husband. This creature is shameless."

I gestured vaguely at Fuzzy, "I don’t know if this creature even knows what shame is. Come on in, have a glass of wine. Gloria and the Babingers should be here any time." But by the time I finished my sentence, Nina wasn't even paying attention anymore. Fuzzbutt had noticed the skirt just like I did, and he didn't hesitate to pop up on his knees and shove his face as far up that skirt as he could.

I hollered, "Fuzzbutt, get down!" but Nina just laughed and took a wider stance, taking a few awkward steps with the foolish beast waddling under her, to lean against the couch a few feet from the door.

"Ooh. I know you said he loves pussy, but I think you may have understated it." It became obvious just from the noise that she had come commando and was perfectly happy with Fuzzbutt's more intimate greeting.

I waved my hand in a sort of dismissal, "Alrighty then. I'll just pour you a glass while you and Fuzzy get to know each other."

I poured the glass to the sound of soft moans and hungry beast. I drank it, and poured a second that I handed to Nina. She just sipped and tried not to drop it. Fuzzy was nothing if not enthusiastic. Nina's eyes were closed. She sighed, "I haven't been eaten out like this in years. This is going to be the best story ever."

The doorbell rang again, causing Fuzzbutt to drop down out of Nina's skirt and start spinning around again. Nina sighed a little disappointedly, but moved into the livingroom and collapsed onto the couch. It looked like she’d probably sloshed the wine across the seat a bit, but I wasn't going to think about it. I was busy trying to get past a two-hundred-fifty pound pinwheel so I could answer the door.

"Fuzzbutt! Sit!" He spun one more time, but sat, cock cage clanking on the floor.

Nina laughed at the sound, but spoke sweetly, "Aww poor beastie, what did she do to you?"

I opened the door, letting in Mr. and Mrs. Babinger. They were the only ones in this particular friend circle that were older than us. I kiss-kissed Mrs. Babinger hello. "Laura! Pete! I'm so glad you made it! I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the house." Everyone kissed Mrs Babinger hello, because that's what she always did. You didn't find her being your friend if you weren't comfortable with it.

Laura smiled and shook her head, "It was easy enough." Pete nodded and said, "Satellite!" probably meaning the GPS in their new car. Fuzzbutt was already giving Laura the knee nuzzling that Nina first got, and Laura grinned beatifically down at him, "So this is Fuzzbutt! He's a handsome beast." They dressed like they came from church but, if you knew her at all, it was hard to mistake Laura for anything but the dominatrix she was, regardless of what she wore. As for Pete, I'd seen for myself the six pack and ten cock piercings hiding in his carefully ironed slacks. When prompted, He was not at all shy about showing them off.

Laura casually put a foot on Fuzzbutt's cock cage, pinning him neatly to the floor and eliciting some whining. "Look what we have here. The party hasn't even started and Fuzzbutt has already been a bad boy."

I chuckled nervously, "He got too excited, I think, expecting company. I had to strap him down just so I could finish cooking, and then he actually knocked me over when I finally let him loose."

Laura took off her jacket, and then proceeded to unzip her dress as well, "You don't mind if I get a little more comfortable, as they say, do you?" I could see bits of something lacy underneath.

I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly wondering why I hadn't dressed up at all. I was just wearing my everyday skirt and a comfy sweater. "No, no, it's fine!" I walked back towards the wine, leaving Laura undressing while still standing on Fuzzbutt's cock, "I said it might turn out to be a kinky sort of party but Nina and Fuzzbutt already slammed right past kinky, so I don't even know where we are, now."

When I turned back around to bring them their wine glasses, Laura was revealed in fishnets and a lace teddy. Pete had only removed his jacket, still wearing a simple white tank top under it, but all the biceps, triceps and whatever other -ceps he had suddenly made for a very different looking man. Pete was already pitching a tent in his pants, laughing silently while he watched Laura wave her puss over Fuzzbutt's head. She brushed her pussy lips with her fingers and flicked the little jewel that dangled from her clitoral hood piercing, but Fuzzy was stuck two inches too short since his cock cage was still trapped under her foot.

Laura just stood in the livingroom and fingered herself for a good ten minutes while everyone looked on and sipped their wine, getting Fuzzbutt to strain up against his cock whining and snarling and sticking his tongue out as far as it would go for no more reward than a few drops of pussy juice. She was still at it when the doorbell rang again. Fuzzbutt head-butted her knee and slipped away, not aiming for her cunt, but to go spin by the door and get in my way again.

Gloria was a stage name turned legal name, so it fit her absolutely. Gloria was six-two and almost as ripped as Pete. A men's blazer worn open revealed a spandex bra that didn't hide anything, and she also wore a skirt, though it was ankle length navy business pleats versus Nina’s black velvet. "Hi, Gloria! You know what Fuzzbut thinks of skirts, right?"

I hoped that was enough warning as I ushered her in, but Gloria didn't even look down, she just took a step and slid her legs closed as Fuzzbutt ascended, hold his head neatly between her knees. "Yeah, I know. Maybe later. I'm kinda surprised to see Fuzzbutt and not your husband. I really thought this was going to be a roast, and not a petting party." She grinned at me, picking up on my nervousness, "Looks like we get to roast you instead."

Fuzzbutt was well and truly stuck. He was flailing and grunting frantically trying to get away from Gloria's knees, but his short arms and legs weren't accomplishing anything. I handed Gloria a glass of wine and she reached down with one hand, holding Fuzzy by the hair while she let him go and got down on her knees herself, "Why's the beastie all locked up? Not that I object."

I frowned and flatly told the story again, to another round of laughter while Gloria flipped Fuzzbutt over on his back and toyed with the little cage. She squeezed Fuzzy's bulging balls and poked at his strained cock through the bars. It was totally stiff, even though it couldn't get even half erect and had thoroughly impaled itself on the sound. Fuzzy swung elbows and knees wildly around, but got nowhere, and actually whimpered in pain every time Glori squeezed him.

Nina chimed in, barely able to contain her cackling laughter, "He's so horny, just looking at pussy makes him lose his mind. Laura held him, like, two inches from her puss for a solid fifteen minutes and he never stopped licking the air." She finished her glass and held it up, so I retrieved it and went to pour her another. Nina continued, "Glori, if you don't want him, send the poor creature back over to me. My cunnie's still honey!"

Maybe two glasses was all Nina should have. I could never tell if she got drunk really quick or if it just amused her to sound dumb. I returned the full glass to Nina's hand, which was in the air where I left it. She called as Gloria let the beast loose, "Come on Fuzzy! Get over here boy!", hiking her skirt up into her lap and spreading her legs for everyone's edification.

Fuzzbutt wasted no more time with Gloria, rolling over and hobbling away as soon as she let him go. I knew he had to be hurting after Glori and Laura's treatment, but that didn't stop him from diving straight into Nina's lap again. I shook my head, "I loathe to think about what happens when I unbuckle that thing. You know you're just making it worse, right Nina?"

Nina moaned her words theatrically, "Ohh, I know. But I'm happy with that. I’m sure we can make it up to him later." She reached behind Fuzzbutt with one foot and bobbled the cage with her toes, making him squeak and back away a little, but she pressed his head into her crotch with both hands and he didn't resist.

Glory took a seat on the floor opposite Nina, enjoying the show as she sipped the wine. I sat as well for awhile, just waiting for the lasagna to finish cooking. It wouldn’t be long. Soon enough, though, Gloria was laying down on the floor behind Fuzzbutt, playing with the cock cage again, and slapping Fuzzy's balls every few seconds, forcing him to make that ridiculous squeak.

Gloria saw me looking and started giggling, and then laughed harder every time Fuzzy squeaked. I couldn't contain giggles of my own, and Nina started in too when she opened her eyes a moment to see what was going on. Although, Nina’s laughter was interspersed with protestations that he’d suffered enough.

The oven timer sounded and I lurched out of my chair and across the livingroom, nearly tripping on Gloria and Fuzzy both. Fuzzy started to chase after me as I headed to the kitchen, but stopped short with a yelp. Glori had grabbed his balls when they passed over her. I was laughing again as I pulled the lasagna out of the oven and put it on the dining table.

Laura had followed me into the kitchen, standing by as I made up plates and set them out. Quietly, she asked, “Fuzzbutt does have a safeword of some sort? I’ve never heard you mention anything.”

I hadn’t ever really thought about it in those terms, but actually, “the entire English language.” I answered. “Occasionally when something’s gone wrong and there’s a pinch or something numb, he’ll just tell me.” I set down the last plate and put some extra bowls of cheese and sauce on the table. “But it’s always just to take it all off and go have a nap. He doesn’t slip back into Fuzzbutt so easily.”

Laura seemed satisfied and sat down at one end of the table. Everyone else had made their way toward the table as well. I scraped a generous helping of lasagna out of the pan into Fuzzbutt's bowl, "Fuzzbutt! Dinner!"

Fuzzbutt wasn't terribly interested in dinner. He was too busy spinning around underneath the table, sticking his face into everyone's lap – and crotch – as they sat down. "Fuzzbutt! Stop that! Come eat your dinner!"

Of course, he didn't, I knew it was unlikely, so to everyone's delight I got to pull Fuzzy out from under the table by his balls and strap him to the kitchen floor so we could actually have some dinner. He'd just have to eat later. I went ahead and removed the cock cage, though, since he couldn't even reach his cock in that position. Pulling out the sound released an absolute flood of pre-cum onto the floor.

Mrs. Babinger laughed now too, "Poor beastie was so full," she wheezed, "I'm surprised he didn't cum just from taking the cage off." She dried her eyes with a napkin, grinning as I sat down, "The food looks delicious dear, but the entertainment is incredible."

I just smiled and took a bite. Everyone was watching Fuzzbutt whine and wiggle and stomp around trying to reach his cock. We actually talked about other things for awhile, as we ate. Gloria had a wrestling gig that might go on tour. Laura always had fantastic stories about her clients. Pete liked to talk about whatever tech toys he'd gotten, and this week it was the GPS. Nina chimed in occasionally, but mostly just watched Fuzzbutt.

When the conversation lulled for a moment, Laura interjected, “Pete, you look like you’re finished.” Pete was half way through a second helping and literally had a fork half way up to his mouth. The fork descended as Mrs. Babinger continued, “Why don’t you go have some cream for dessert. Drain the beast’s balls for him before he explodes.”

That’s why she’d asked me about a safeword, I realized. What she proposed was pretty far outside anything my husband had even talked about. Pete just nodded and got down on the floor. “Lay down Fuzzbutt.”

Of course, with his balls trapped, leaning back on his elbows was the best Fuzzy could do, but he did. The whole table had stopped eating and just watched while Pete grabbed Fuzzy’s balls, and started sucking his cock, leaning all the way to the floor for the occasional deep-throat as well. Fuzzbutt absolutely beamed with delight, at first, but it didn’t take long at all for him to start cumming, and there was yelling, howling and even outright screaming that went with it. It seemed to last forever. I knew – and everyone could see – just how much Fuzzy’s muscles were straining inside the arm and leg binders. He’d already been in them for hours, and adding an orgasm to that meant mind blowing cramps in pretty much every muscle.

Pete was merciless, or rather Laura was. She sat through the whole display with a self-satisfied smirk, and when Pete started to sit up, since Fuzzbutt was clearly finished, she said dryly, “Oh don’t let that stop you.” Pete responded by diving right back onto Fuzzy’s overstimulated cock, which lasted another five minutes as the beast’s voice got more and more shrill.

Laura giggled with delight, a sound I’d never heard from the deeply sarcastic woman, then said, “Alright, Pete. Unbuckle him now, he should be much less rowdy.” She wasn’t wrong. When he was loose, Fuzzbutt wobbled slowly under the table and flopped down flat on the floor. “But you, Pete, I’d like to see you in that restraint.” She turned to me, “Fantastically simple device. I hope you don’t mind if Pete tries it out.”

As Pete slipped his cock out of his slacks and strapped it to my kitchen floor, Laura stood up and headed for the livingroom. She turned when Nina and Gloria both sighed at the same time, sounding disappointed.

Laura scoffed, “Oh please. I know what you’re both thinking.” She retrieved a pair of black fuzzy cuffs from her handbag. “But I’ll just bet you that Fuzzbutt will be hard and happy in under an hour.” She bent down to cuff Pete’s wrists behind him so he couldn’t free himself, “So Fuzzy can rail Nina to her heart’s content while we all take turns slapping bouncy tits and ass.” Nina blushed, but looked thrilled at the suggestion.

Laura continued, “I also guarantee that, after being so wound up and so terribly, terribly blue, Fuzzy will be insanely tender for the rest of the night.” She stood back up and smirked at Gloria, “So there’s nothing stopping Glori hurting him and making him squeak as loud as she likes. Clearly he loves the attention.”

Laura put her toes on Pete’s trapped balls, “And he might not be the main event, but if you want to torment Pete for awhile too, well,” the sound Pete made when Laura shifted her weight was quite loud, “There’s nothing he can do about that now.”

She turned to look at me, “Unless you had other plans?”

I just laughed. And laughed some more. Eventually, though I managed to respond through mad giggles, “Laura, my plan was bad-doggy jokes and maybe – maybe – I entertained notions of having you all watch Fuzzy getting up my skirt. Fuzzbutt is the one that had different ideas.”

Laura grinned. Evilly. “Watching that sounds like a lovely after dinner activity, dear. Don’t sell yourself short.”