When my husband Daniel and I bought an apartment in the city and chose not to have children, I thought I’d be spared the trappings of that dreaded white picket fence.

Then last winter, Daniel’s mother slipped on some ice in her driveway and was bedridden. Being the good son that he is, he insisted we move closer to her. It took some convincing, but eventually I signed onto the idea and we moved to a house in the suburbs directly across the street from her.

It didn’t take long before I started missing the apartment. My hostility toward Daniel festered. And watching him dote on his mother — even after she quickly recovered and gained full mobility — was enraging. She bossed him around like a slave. While cleaning up the remains of one Sunday dinner, my mother-in-law made a suggestion.

“Danny, I’d like you to start escorting me to church,” she said. “It would be good for you to go to a service.” She turned her head to glare in my direction. “Both of you.”

“We’re atheists, Gloria,” I snapped. “‘Danny’ doesn’t even believe in God.”

His mother was on the verge of tears. Daniel reached for her hand and assured her it wasn’t true. I stomped out the front door and crossed the street in a huff. When had my husband become such a spineless mama’s boy?

Back home, I poured a glass of wine to calm my nerves and angrily chugged it down. Suddenly, I heard our screen door swing open. Slam. Daniel thundered in and took a seat at the kitchen table. After a long pause, he cleared his throat.

“That can never happen again,” he said. “You’ve been out of control since we moved here and I’ve had it.”

There was a long pause between us. My anger seethed in the silence. I was so furious I couldn’t speak.

Then, Daniel stood up and glared down at me. “Now, take your pants off.”

I barely suppressed my laughter, but I complied, mostly out of curiosity. I stood beside him, naked from the waist down, a sarcastic what-now look glued to my face. Saying nothing, he yanked me across his lap.

“You will apologize to my mother,” Daniel said evenly. I laughed as his hand struck down. “Oh, is this funny?” he asked, spanking my bare ass even harder. We’d dabbled in BDSM before we were married, but he’d always been reluctant to overpower me, despite my begging him to do so. Where had this guy been hiding?

The spanking became more forceful with every strike. My backside was tight, red, and exposed. Just when the pain was starting to become erotic, he pushed me off him and onto the floor. He positioned me on my knees as he reached into his pants.

“Suck,” he commanded.

I took him as far into my mouth as I could. I furiously bobbed up and down while my eyes bulged with tears. I came up for air, working him with my hand while running my tongue alongside.

“Look me in the eye while you suck my dick,” he demanded as he gripped the back of my head.

I locked eyes with the man I’d mistaken for a weakling five minutes earlier. “From now on, when you disrespect my mother, I will punish you. Do you understand?”

I nodded, choking as saliva dribbled down my chin. He grabbed my ponytail and lurched my head back. I gasped. Daniel climbed to his feet and threw me over the kitchen table, shoving his salty fingers into my mouth. I sucked violently.

“Until your shitty attitude improves, I will ignore your pussy.”

His fingers drove into my asshole. I reached to touch myself, but he restrained my wrist.

“Absolutely not,” he snapped.

He pulled out his fingers and rammed his cock inside me. Daniel had never wanted to fuck my ass. Now, he was thrusting me so deep I felt like I was being split in two. I was panting, desperate for him to touch my clit.

“How will you apologize to my mother?” he spat in my ear.

“I’ll invite her for coffee tomorrow.” I could barely breathe. I was on fire.

“Not only will you invite her for coffee, but you will escort her to church from now on with a fucking smile.” He wrapped his hand around my throat. My body shivered.

Daniel pulled out and forced me to my knees again. “Things are going to change around here,” he said, stroking his filthy cock against my cheek. “Tell me you understand.”

With that, my husband shot a thick, creamy load all over my face. Then he took his cock and painted the mess all over my mouth. He smiled down at me as I greedily licked the come off my lips.

Maybe life in the suburbs won’t be so bad after all.

Check out the Full Gallery