A Househusband's Reality, Chapter 1

By mantistobogganmd

It was just another typical day for me on my own. A moment of solitude before the wife and kids came home. I was cooking dinner; Chicken, rice, and broccoli. Basic shit, something that’s my go-to when I just don’t care for the effort. I've realized over the past couple of years I’ve had a hatred towards cooking, even with the alone time. I'm a man, call me sexist, but I don’t feel like making dinner every day. I’m the one stuck at home doing this. while the girls were enjoying their time to mess around in school and the wife is out doing her big hotshot things in the Bureau of Human Compliance's Anti-Terrorism Division. At this point, they just expect it to be done, and only ask about dinner if it’s late. You might ask me, ‘Do you love your wife and kids?’ Yeah, but I can't help but feel some resentment towards them.

I personally don’t think it’s crazy for me or any other guy to feel this way, contrary to what the new government thinks. Liberal bullshit aside, monster girls are a privileged class now. They have power in this new world they and their kind created for men like me. Never thought I’d yearn to be in a war zone again. I remember vets talking about that when coming back in the civilian world, but I’m sure most weren’t talking about becoming a househusband.

I hear the front door slam open, and the stomping of my daughters' feet in the hall follow soon after. Hellhounds, always an energetic bunch. Not a bad thing, it keeps you on your toes, kind of a challenge to match their energy. There’s a lot of adjustment, of course. A lot of energy means a lot of stuff breaking, lots of clean up. It gets old when it’s all left to you over the years.

"Erica, get out of the way!"

"You were in the way first!"

"Both of you get the Hell out of my way, fucking dweebs!"

I groan, Sarah had one hell of a mouth on her since she became a full-fledged teen.

I yelled through the kitchen "Sarah, get in here!"

In comes our rebellious teenager, Sarah. Like most Hellhounds her age, she really got into this satanic goth phase. The black make-up, the piercings, and those damn overly revealing clothes with pentagrams or upside down crosses. It bothered me, but my wife told me it was a natural phase, she went through it too. I had no say in that regard. I tried, but well… that conversation went nowhere.

"Not my fault, they were in the way."

"Still, watch your language. I don't care if you're sixteen, you don't talk to your sisters like that way."

She rolls her eyes, and pulls out her phone as she walks off, "Whatever, dad. Let me know when dinner's done."

“Set the table before you plant yourself on the couch, please.”


“Since you talk about being an adult so much, you can do adult things now. Set the table.”

“Erica and Tammy can’t?”

“What did your mother and I talk about you talking back when I ask you to do something?”

She rolls her eyes at me and groans, “Why don’t we all just get plates when it’s dinner time?”

“Sarah, please.”

“Dad, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Please, for the love of God, just set the damn table. Please.”

Her tone shifts a little, “You okay, dad?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She approaches, and I feel a paw on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’ll set the table.”

“Thank you.”

I hear the clanking of plates and cups as she grabs them from the cupboard, then the ting of silverware. She walks out to the dining room, and I hear more light clinking as the table’s finally being set.

Still, that’s typical it has to be an argument. She has little respect for me. I genuinely love her, but she knows I hold no real power in this family, and it’s been something her and Tammy have been picking up on. It's one thing if I could chalk it up to her being a teen, but she never dared talk to her mother that way, nor me when her mother was around. There was a point and time where she’d set the table without me having to beg. Whatever, just gotta keep cooking, almost done.

Tammy and Sarah are arguing about something, probably who gets to watch TV again. I don't have the energy to listen in, just keep cooking. Shit, where’s the pepper again? And when the fuck is she getting home already? Sometimes, I swear, she takes her time at the Bureau so she can fuck around with her coworkers for an extra hour of not dealing with the kids.

Tammy sprints into the kitchen. She comes up real close to me and starts to whine.

“Dad, Sarah’s not letting me change the channel! She’s watching that show you and mom don’t want Erica to watch again.”

“Give me a moment, sweetie, I’m almost done with dinner.”

I glance up at her from the stove, and double take. Her hair and fur are a bit dirty, as are her jeans. Great, dirt tracked through the house too. There’s an unmistakable bit of red on her shirt, again.

"Tammy, didn't I just get stains out of that shirt?"

"I was trying to chase down Jake again, he sure is a runner!"

I wince a little at that statement, but was told it was 'normal behavior' by my wife and people at the school. Even Sarah was encouraging her, giving her tips on how to chase and corner him. I remember when I first harshly discouraged that behavior with Sarah when she first hit puberty, but my wife told me not to. I tried to put my footdown on how I felt on that, and… yeah, I try not to think about the fight after.

"Wanna explain how there's blood stains on your shirt again? Was it that Manticore girl ?"

"Yeah, she keeps trying to say Jake's her boyfriend. I showed her, I kicked her ass today."

"Enough with the swearing, Tammy."

"Sarah gets to!"

"No, she doesn't."

"She just told me to ask when the fuck dinner's going to be ready!"

"Damn it, enough with the swearing."

"Well, now you're swearing."

Why do they always get under your skin more the older they get?

"Tammy, just go watch TV or something."

"But Sarah's watching that shitty show and-"

"Tammy, just- ah fuck it. Do whatever, I don't care anymore."

I sigh, and look away. I'm griping the counter, if only I could just rip off a piece of wood right now or something. Just to break something to get this damn tension out. I hear her walk closer, and gives me a quick hug. It's something she's said she hates doing since it's not what big girls do, but that was just a thing kids say to seem grown up. If anything, it has to be some sign of maturity she’s doing it to make me feel better, right?

"Sorry, I know I shouldn’t talk like that."

I give her a pat on the head, "Just please try not to swear. I know mom's not home, but just..."

Fuck, I feel tired. Tammy let's go, and can tell I have this exhausted look.

"Alright, I promise. Are you alright, dad?"

"Yeah, I'm almost done with dinner. Just leave me be for a bit, okay hon?"

"Okay. You sure?"


She walks off, good chance she might argue with Sarah again anyway. She can be a pain at times, but I still love her. I rest my head on the counter for a bit. The anniversary of when it all happened is coming up again. I try not to think about it, but every time that anniversary passes, I feel more terrible than the last year. Shit, just thinking about it makes me want to stop cooking, to stop doing all of this. It’s a week away, the hell’s it gonna be like when it comes up? Looking back at the stove top, I just want to let it all burn out. I don’t want to cook food anymore.


I get up from my slumped position, and see Erica there. She was still a little girl, just started the first grade a few months ago. Unlike her two sisters, she liked 'girly' things. She played with dolls, she had pretend tea parties, she hung out with the less aggressive monster girls, and she still had that child-like innocence. She was sweeter than a jar of sugar, that kid. She runs up to hug me with her tail all wagging, that always makes me feel a little better. It's the first thing she does every day she comes home, not a moment's hesitation when she sees me.

"Hey Erica! How was school?"

"It was great! We learned about adding numbers. Me and Heather want to have a play date Saturday, is that okay?"

"Absolutely, sweetie!"

After she lets go of her hug, she looks at me with those sweet, but fiery eyes of hers. Her smile drops as she looks at my face.

"Are you okay, Daddy? You look tired."

"Daddy's A-OK honey."

She doesn't believe me, I can tell with that look she's giving. "Maybe you could take a nap, I can cook if you want!"

Fuck, is she just too cute. "It's okay, I'm almost done!"

"Alright! I'm gonna go watch TV with Sarah and Tammy."

She takes off to the living room, and I can see out of the corner of my eyes its that damn reality show where a monster girl hunts down a man and has sex with them as a ‘prank’ or some shit like that. I guess that's what teenagers like nowadays, but it definitely wasn't age appropriate for Erica.

I yell out, "Sarah, can you put on something a bit more PG for your sisters?"

"Dad, oh my God."

"Sarah, please, for your sisters' sake."

"Alright, fine."

"Can we watch Spongebob, Sarah?"

"Sure, whatever."


At least there are some things they all like to do together still. SpongeBob was one of those things, even if Sarah pretends she hates it. I can still see the little girl in her when they watch it together, I do miss when she and Tammy were like Erica. I wonder, when will Erica change like them? Sarah was fourteen for that, but Tammy was ten, maybe she will when she’s twelve if I’m lucky.

Just as I'm about to finish dinner, I hear the front door slam open once more.

"Shit, what a day. I'm home everyone!"

I hear all of the girls get up, and greet their mother. They're probably excited about hearing what she did at work today.

I can hear her laughing, "Alright girls, settle. I got some news that I'm sure will make you excited. Where's your dad?"

I hear Erica say, "He's still cooking dinner. He looks sleepy again."

"Sleepy, huh? I'll check up on him."

Fuck's sake. Sometimes, kids are too open about shit.

I hear the loud thunk of her boots, and there she is. I look over, and my wife of almost 20 years now is at the doorway of the kitchen. Tall, fit, in shape, curves in the right spots. She’s aging great for someone in her mid-thirties. Still in uniform, standard-issue for the BHC. A BDU-style blue uniform. A bit tight-fitting, showing off the curves of her body, even with the bullet-proof vest. She had her badge, all bright and shiny, around her neck. That thing was her pride and joy, on par with our kids and above me. She had her hands on her hips, and wore a big grin so large her fangs were visible.

All I can muster up really is "Hey Val."

"Hey there, Johnny boy!"

She walks up, and gives squeezes me tight. I can feel her breasts pushing up against my neck as the hug lingers. Then she turns for me to face her. She’s got more of a sultry look now, I can see it in her eyes. She starts to kiss me, repeatedly, on the lips. She tries to French kiss a bit, but she stops when she sees I’m not really up for it. Valerie was always affectionate, in a sexual and aggressive way. But she goes a bit above-and-beyond this time of the year in an attempt to distract me. I just go along with it, even though it’s been making me feel worse.

“So, how was your day?”

“Like every other. Cleaning, cooking. That was about it.”

“Yeah, nothing else so far?”


She’s still hugging me through this conversation, I start feeling her paws rubbing through my hair as she begins to whisper.

“I know it’s kind of that time of the year for you. You thinking about maybe some, uh, hobbies when everyone’s away to keep your mind off of it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Maybe we can talk about that after dinner. Find a way to occupy your mind so it doesn’t-”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. I’m a grown man. I know how to deal with my emotions.”

“C’mon, John. I know this isn’t easy for you. It’d be good if you thought of something else, and you might actually like it.”

“When I said don’t worry about it, I meant it. I can handle my emotions, alright? I don’t need a bullshit ‘hobby’ to fuck around. I don’t have time for it as it is.”

She releases from the hug a bit, and stares at me with worry.

“Aw, Johnny. Don’t be like that.”

“Val, can I just finish cooking dinner? I’m almost done, just let me finish this so we can eat already.”

She grips me into a hug once again, and I can’t help but hug back at this point. There’s an odd mix of emotions going on. On one hand, it feels good to have this affection. Like she cares, she’s trying comfort me. But on the other, I sort of want to be left alone. I can’t tell her ‘no,’ and if I resisted, she’d just grip and hug tighter like she did back in the Institute to calm me down.

“I’m here for you, alright?”

I’m trying to hold back tears now, but it’s not easy.

“You don’t need to suffer in silence, just talk to me when you need to.”

She wouldn’t understand if I tried.

She lets go, then cups my face as she gets eye-level to me. Her smile is warm, like the first time we met all those years ago. Where the hell does the time go?

“Okay Val, I will. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I love you.”

I smile, but I feel hollow as the words slip from my mouth “I love you, too.”

“Alright, I’ll let you finish. Looks good, babe!”

After she lets go from the hug, she gives my rear a playful smack. “Maybe you and me could have a little dessert later tonight, yeah?”


With that, she’s out to the dining room. The kids all get around the table and sit, and start asking her questions. Finally, I’m done cooking, and bring everything out. All eyes on their mom as she regales the kids about work.

Tammy’s nearly about to leap out of her seat as her tail whips back and forth. “Tell us what happened today, mom! Did you catch those terrorists?”

Valerie chuckles “Alright, alright. Settle down, and I’ll tell you.”

Sarah, Tammy, and Erica all sit patiently as they wait for their mom to speak. The only thing not still is their tails, wagging with intrigue in anticipation for Valerie to talk about work today. In the mean time, I was plopping food on everyone’s plate. The excitement on their faces, the envy I feel. What have I done in my lifetime that made them that excited like that?

“So, downtown, we were conducting a raid on some Paladins. Real radical guys, had guns and bombs at the ready.” There’s now some chicken in her mouth, but she keeps talking. “They were coordinating over a messaging app, and that’s how we caught them. We got their chat tapped, and we saw they were going to try to assassinate the Human representative in town for being a ‘traitor’ to humanity.”

They gasp, and Erica asks, “What did you do?”

“Well, me and the girls got our guns, suited up, and then we drove out in those big armored cars. We surrounded the building, and BAM! We busted down the door, and none of them were quick enough to grab those toys they called guns and bombs. One of them was curled up in a ball by his computer making those shit propaganda fliers, was the funniest thing. Grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him out after I cuffed his ass. He was screeching ‘Let go of me, demon!’ while he was crying. Shit’s too funny.”

“Any deaths?” Sarah inquires, with a bit of a twisted grin.

Valerie scoffs, “No, we’re trained to avoid fuck ups like that. These guys were rinky-dink anyway, not prepared for an ambush. All of them arrested, all guns taken, bombs gone, human rep notified, all’s well. Good amount of future terrorist cells we might be picking up from their chat history.”

Tammy still looks like she’s about to leap out of her seat, “Are they gonna throw them in prison?”

“Damn right, they will honey!”

“They won’t be in there forever, right mommy?”

“No, Erica, most of them won’t. These guys will be there for a bit to serve their time, then they go to the Institute.”

“Like daddy was?”

Yep, the Institute for Human-Mamono Relations. Scary name, right? Like something out of 1984 or Brave New World. When the war ended, the US and its military gone, they had to do something with the vets. Especially one like me. A former Green Beret, a single-male, just released out in this new world with no plans for him? They’re not that stupid. That’s why they put me through their ‘intensive relationship program.’ They put me with Valerie, they thought she would be the best match for someone like me. I fucking hated that damn place, even if it’s how I met her.

From across the table, Valerie smiles at me. “Yep, just like daddy.”

“Don’t Mindflayers or Gazers fix people like them and dad?”

“Sarah, your dad was not a problem like some of people there.”

Did she just call me a problem?

“That’s only for the worst cases, not a go-to for everyone.”

I beg to differ from what I saw in there.

“What do they do in there, mom?”

“Well… I can’t really talk about that, Tam-Tam.”

Tammy then looks at me, “Can you?”

I gripped my utensils a bit tighter, and look away.

“Your dad can’t either.”


“No buts, drop it.”

“Yeah,” Sarah chimes in, “Dad never talks about it, he was there in there. What’s up with that?”

“Drop it now. Your dad doesn’t want to talk about it, and will not talk about it.”

That surprises them. Their mom can be snappy when she wants, but she’s not commanding and hush-hush about most things. There’s a reason she is for this. An awkward silence begins to linger as everyone else continues eating. All the while, a thousand yard stare goes from my eyes to across the table. The kids are looking at me, they know something’s wrong.

Valerie starts to talk again to distract them, “So, you guys wanna see the new gun they issued us?”

There we go, everything back to normal. They all look at the gun with curiosity as Valerie shows it off. I smile and nod along, looks like a new version of a Sig Sauer P226. Designs repurposed for the new military and ABC agencies. I’ve kind of mentally checked out at this point as she distracts the kids. I don’t like to focus on the gun talk as it reminds me of my short, but purposeful time in service. It pains me that Valerie is so passionate about her work, the joy she feels from it, the pride, how the kids show her respect and interest in what she does. Over the years, there’s this painful realization that it’s for the best not to think about it, to push it out of the mind.

Day becomes night, dinner wraps up, the girls head to their rooms, as do me and my wife. We start to get undressed for bed. I didn’t realize, until now, she never got out of her uniform. She usually claims she ‘forgets’ to, but I swear, she does so out of obsession with her job. I get it, it’s quite the job to be in, but you couldn’t take off your uniform the whole time you were home. I swear, it’s like she rubs it in my face she’s the one who is the breadwinner and wears the pants. Once its off, she’s just in a sports bra and panties. She still exercises regularly, keeps a good form. Me, I’ve sort of fallen out of it. I’ve tried, but the habit has been sticking less. My regiment, if you could call it that, has given me a lighter frame. Sort of emasculating as the physique I had since high school declined. Almost like it was encouraged I got weaker.

I plop down in the bed with just my briefs, looking up at the ceiling. My mind begins to peace together the anniversary that’s coming up. The anticipation of another breakdown. Could I even hide it this year? I’ve been able for a while, but for some reason. It’s explainable, but its not something that can be hidden anymore. Against Valerie’s efforts, there’s been an internal unraveling. She’s made great efforts to hide from everyone my underlying issues, but there’s definitely a fear it’s no longer something containable.

Valerie drops down on the mattress beside me, then puts her arm around me. “Still got it on your mind?”

“Yeah, I do.”

She lays on her side, and looks at me, “You think I could fix that for you?”

I turn to her and smile, “What did you have in mind?”

Her paw makes its way down to my crotch as she fondles “Oh, you know.”

And with that, she does her magic. She pushes me on my back, and literally rips my briefs off. She does the same with her panties. Bad habit of hers, just tearing off the clothes. Like I said before, sexual in an aggressive manner. She’s finally got me stiff after a bit of toying. And starts to ride me. Her hand makes her way around my legs, as she’s got me in the Amazon position. Valerie’s eyes, burning with fire, an aggressive grin on her face. It’s really the primal sex that her and any monster girl enjoys best. I should be enjoying this too, the physical feeling of being in her. There should be an emotional aspect to it, a bond so to speak between too people making love. In the past, it’s been waning. But now, it’s gone. It just clicked right now I’m just going through the motions of her fucking me. I’m not really doing anything except taking it, and it’s not enjoyable. As selfish as it seems to think, there’s doubt that this really was for me. Whenever Valerie has a big raid or some shit like that, she gets all hyped up and horny.

This, most likely, was a means of her getting rid of that tension and excitement from today’s events in the anti-terrorist raid. If I recall, I was encouraged to accept this for Valerie’s sake as a ‘healthy’ means of her removing her tension and for us to bond. For me, I don’t feel anything from this anymore. What’s going to happen, another kid that will eventually turn on me and view me as the spineless prick I am? Shit, what the fuck am I saying? How can I saw that about my own kin? How can I say that about my wife and her urges? How can I think about these things while she’s riding me right now? Something’s definitely wrong with me.

I snap back into reality, as I feel myself release inside of her. We’re both panting, and she lays beside me again. Her arms wrap around my body, and I’m nuzzled in between her breasts as she coos to me.

“Was that as fun for me as it was for you.” Valerie says, still gasping a bit for air?

“When is it not?” I chuckled. God, I am so spineless sometimes.

“I love you, John.”

I hesitate for a moment, so long she pulls me out a bit to look at me, expecting a response.

I muster it out eventually, “I love you, Valerie.”

We begin to spoon, obviously her the big spoon, and me the little spoon. As she falls asleep, and starts to snore, rest doesn’t find me. I’m staring off, still wondering why my life needed to turn out the way it has. I should be happy. I’m married with an attractive hot-shot BHC cop who’s got a great career ahead of her. My daughters all love me, and have a bright future ahead of them. But what’s missing from that equation? What’s still wrong? It keeps me up for most of the night, sleep does find me, thank God for that. My eyes close after hours of insomniatic thoughts of my failures to be a man stop racing through my head.

1532 Hits, 5 Comments


I agree with the other comments


A tough read so I hope this goes somewhere. Keep on writing.


This hit different, holy hell... Really looking forward to seeing where you take this.


the last "dark" mamono story i read got dropped by the author, pease don't do that, i want to know how the story ends.


Solid set up. I look forward to reading more.