[Petplay, Bondage, Lifestyle Changes]

The confusion on my husband's face when I first told him what I wanted was adorable. If only he knew how far things would actually go. Hell, even I didn't know then the depths we would go to.

It started with a simple request, for him to wear dog ears and crawl around on all fours to get in the mood before bed. Some websites called that 'petplay', though at the time we just referred to getting into a more animalistic mood.

Sex was always better when he would dress up beforehand. Something in him would let loose, and the moment I stopped petting him and got on all fours, he'd be all over me. It was great, and undeniably better than what we had before. Wearing the ears and crawling around the house to get my attention became second nature to him. A bedtime ritual that excited us both.

So when I asked him to step it up, he gladly agreed.

I ordered in some restraints. He would need help putting them on and taking them off, but that was a small obstacle. He had boots that were twice as wide as normal, designed for fitting both a thigh and a calf in each. While wearing them, my husband could only walk around on his knees, thankful for the enhanced padding the boots provided. It took training - a term we lovingly used - before he was able to navigate the house with them on, but it took longer to master sex with them on still. He had to lean and position himself against me from behind, no longer able to hold himself up as naturally. His thrusts were rough and uneven, and he slipped out multiple times a night. We loved it. Why wouldn't we, when it just made the act even more animalistic, more carnal.

As soon as the boots were conquered, we added the gloves. These were like mitts, except they balled the hands up so that my husband would be walking on his knuckles. While he could walk around the house still - crawling wasn't the right term anymore, as he had mastered this means of movement as well as his normal walking - sex became just that little bit harder for him. No longer could he grab my hips or shoulders, instead his 'paws' awkwardly held around my waist as he worked hard to mate with me.

We found an unexpected side effect of wearing the gloves and boots all the time - they were a pain in the neck to take on and off every night. So, on the weekends when no one would need my husband for important human work, we would leave them on him.

Two days at a time. Over a quarter of his week was spent on all fours. He slept on his side like a dog, jumped up onto the couch like a dog, and ate off plates on the floor like a dog. When in this doggy mode, we wouldn't address him by his real name, or his role as my hubby. He was Fido, my pet. Our second weekend like this I bought him a collar with his new name, our address, my name as his owner on the tags. He loved it, and even wore it during the week when he could get away with it.

At this point, we were trying to solve problems, ways that ruined the immersion while he was in doggy mode. Next up was the talking. See, my husband and I love to talk and communicate. But animals don't talk, at least not in human words. While my husband tried to bark and growl, it wasn't very convincing. Looking online, it seems most people solved the problem in a unique way.

When it arrived in the mail, he scoffed at it. He disregarded and said he would never use it. That a man like himself would never dare to use something like that. But when the weekend came, he gently dropped it next to me and asked for help.

It was a mask, or a half-mask rather that only covered his lower face. It was shaped to be protruding into a snout like feature, with the lower jaw disconnected and designed to be strapped around the wearer's own jaw. This way, the wearer could still eat and drink, using their own mouth and teeth to process the foods. None of that carried the objection that my husband had.

Instead, he was reluctant about the shaft, long and narrow, that sat inside the wearer's mouth nearly to their throat. Just narrow enough and soft enough to let him take small bites and swallow, but large enough to prevent his tongue and teeth from coming together to make the right sounds. Instead, only rough growls and - eventually, with training - barks would come out of his mouth.

The mask slipped on easily, filling his mouth and leaving him a little slack jawed. It was cute, the canine expression on his face moving to match his own. We quickly dressed him in the rest of his attire, before I let him have his second surprise of the night.

I led Fido outside, and shut the door. I told him how I was tired of helping him to the toilet like this, and that if he wanted to be my animal, he needed to use the bathroom like an animal. And he did, without any hesitation. Perhaps it was the need to go combined with the embarrassment of being outside, bemut before long Fido was at the door, pawing and whining to be let in.

My new pet was already housebroken.

I couldn't help but wonder what the next steps would be as I did more internet research into the possibilities. Fido curled up by my side, having just tried to drink water rather sloppily through the new mask. Sex that night, and the following nights, was great. Fido was reduced to hungry, animalistic growls, unable to accidentally moan or whisper sensual phrases as the mask reduced those to horny whimpers. It was perfect.

Sunday night, Fido walked over to me asking to be released from the bondage. I asked him if that's really what he wanted, or if he would rather keep playing longer. After a long moment, he trotted away, butt held high in the air. It gave me an idea.

A few days later, a bushy tail butt plug appeared in the mail. Fido still was reluctant, though he let me plug him after a few more days on a liquids only diet. The way he ran around the house after getting his plug in the first time was thrilling to watch, hips waving side to side as he trotted about.

We both wanted more; I could see it in his eyes he felt the same as I did. But what was next? We exhausted the internet's assistance, leaving only the ideas of radical surgery or wishing for some magical intervention to help our games go further. Whatever would come, I knew it would be a blast, and Fido agreed.