By: gerrandom2009
PART 1
Walking through the mall for me was more like a camel ride through the desert. Behind a whole bunch of boxes, I couldn't even see the road in front of me.
It was so strange that I was still shy in front of my wife. Margo had been my fiancée for almost six months, and in that time we had never become intimate as spouses should. I was embarrassed of her and especially of her mother. For some reason, Samantha spent more time with us than I would have liked.
- Hurry up, Matthew! - Samantha yelled at me.
Barely keeping the balance of the boxes in my arms, I hurried after Samantha toward the fitting room where my wife was. I guess you could say that Margo still acts like a child despite her age of thirty. She relies too much on her mom, and she's not going to protect me from her attacks.
Samantha slapped me hard and I stumbled, nearly falling to my knees.
- Why, Ms. Samantha?
- You're going too slow! - My mother-in-law was outraged. - My daughter shouldn't have to wait so long for her fiancé. She's tired of the constant fitting!
I would have said what I thought about those fitting sessions, but I remained silent nonetheless. Honestly, I would have liked to hear at least one word of thanks, since I was paying for all these purchases out of my own pocket. Margot and I still didn't have a budget.
But I hurried after Samantha, and entered the fitting room. I put the boxes where Samantha had told me to - on the only available chair - and saw a whole basket of miscellaneous shoes that Samantha had put together for Margo.
Now rid of the boxes, I could appreciate with a glance these two stunning women. Margo looks like a princess-a slender, shapely girl, with long hair colored in light and dark tones, in different strands. On her face, as always, frozen that naive smile.
Samantha, unlike her daughter, looked sharp, like a bird of prey. She's wider in the hips, but just as beautiful and very feminine. If she worked as an actress, she would definitely get popularity in adult movies..... Shaking my head, I pushed the thought away.
- You're taking up the only chair with boxes, Matthew, - Samantha said in an accusatory tone. - Where is my daughter going to sit? She needs to try on her shoes. You don't earn enough to buy her all those pairs, do you?
Samantha often accused me of being poor, of being slow. I always felt guilty around her, and habitually put my head on my shoulders.
- I'm going to move the boxes to the floor, just a second ...
- And get the boxes dirty? - Samantha was indignant again. - That's unacceptable. We've already paid for them, and I don't want to carry around dirty junk!
- You want me to get a chair from the next dressing room?
- Are you serious, Matthew? - Samantha contorted her voice in a humiliating way. - Are you going to stop other women from shopping? You're only thinking about yourself, aren't you?
She slapped me again, and I slumped my head back into my shoulders. Cautiously glancing toward Margot, I hoped to see sympathy in her eyes, but my favorite wife didn't react. Damn it, how come I'd fallen in love with this girl?
Still, I was seriously confused. I didn't know how I could do the right thing without making Samantha angry. The problem seemed insurmountable. Plus, I wanted to look like a man who could solve problems in my wife's eyes. Except my mother-in-law had something else in mind.
Samantha turned to her daughter, smiled sympathetically and stroked her shoulder.
- I'm sorry, my dear. I really sympathize that you got such a stupid husband. It must have been my fault. How could I have overlooked his stupid mind?
- It wasn't your fault, Mother, - Margot smiled. - But Matthew's making good money.
- You're going to put up with his stupidity for money? It's beneath you. If I were you, I would look for another man. - Samantha looked back at me, her face a mask of contempt. - All right, I'll help you, Matthew. If you were a good husband, you'd realize you had to kneel down so your wife would sit on you like a chair.
- Sit on me? Oh, yes, of course! Now!
Taking the hint, I started to kneel down so Margot could sit on my back, but she coughed and I froze, still not assuming the proper pose.
- You really are a stupid man, Matthew. Are you going to stare at the floor? But then how can you appreciate the beauty of your wife? I thought you enjoyed looking at my daughter.
- I do, but, uh. What must I do?
- Silly, silly Matthew... - Samantha shook her head. - Let my daughter sit on your face. Then, you can look at her any time she doesn't need you in another capacity.
What I heard made me wince. This wasn't like role-playing, and I hadn't realized how much pleasure I could get from such contact. Okay if Margo and I were in our bedroom, without Samantha, but here? In the middle of the mall? That's ridiculous!
- Mom, he's going to get hurt! - Margo laughed. - I could really sit on Matthew's back. I don't have to sit on his face.
- No, daughter. You don't have to give up your comfort because of your husband's stupidity. He's just lazy, like he always is. Can't even mop the floor of your house..... - Samantha said venomously, glaring at me. - I'm sure he could easily keep your ass on his face.
- Well... I guess you're right, - Margo giggled. - Matthew loves my butt. He looks at it so often...
Margo seemed to agree, and I cheered up. I liked doing this for Margo, not Samantha. So, I assumed the proper position, and lifted my head face up. Then, Margo walked over to me and carefully stepped over my feet so as not to soil my pants. She looked over her shoulder and stroked my head affectionately.
- Thank you, beloved!
- You're welcome, love!
Margot nodded gratefully, and lowered her butt to my face. She did it gently, and put almost no weight on my head. It was very easy for me to hold her in that position. Except Samantha...
- Sit up properly, daughter! - she demanded. - Don't hunch over. I've always told you that you sit on chairs like you're on an amusement ride!
- Yes, Mom...
Sighing, Margo began to crawl her ass over my face. Her firm buttocks rose higher and higher until her ass was completely over my face. But even that wasn't enough for her. Margo followed her mother's wishes and she placed first one foot on my thigh, then the other foot.
In this position, I was, in effect, acting as a human chair for my wife. And it would have been a normal game if it hadn't been for her mother, who stood nearby and impatiently encouraged her daughter.
- Now you can measure shoes, my dear. Perhaps, for this humiliation, you can pick out two pairs that your loser husband will buy for you.
- But Mom, we still have to buy groceries! - laughed Margot. - I don't want to eat only porridge.
- You can always come to my place and eat properly, my dear. Don't worry.
Samantha stepped forward and stepped on my toes. She didn't do it out of revenge, and she didn't do it out of spite. Samantha just wanted to kiss her daughter, and she didn't care what was under her feet. Even if it's my toes. Especially if they're my toes.
How unlucky I am to have a mother-in-law...
PART 2
I had hoped that once it was time to pay for my purchases, my mother-in-law's mood would change, but I was wrong. She humiliated me as we walked to the checkout counter, and she kept reprimanding me in front of the cashier.
- I'm sorry that idiot didn't have enough small bills for you, - Samantha sighed sorrowfully. - I'm very unlucky to have a husband for my daughter, you know.
- Oh, that's all right! - The girl smiled awkwardly. - 'I can quite easily find change for you.
- You mustn't hide your irritation. You have a right to say to Matthew everything you think of him. It's not your fault he's such a ridiculous creature. Margot won't mind, will she, Daughter?
My beloved wife was completely lost in the clouds at this moment. She didn't seem to care what was happening to me. Margot was holding the shopping bags and she wanted to try on the new shoes and get rid of the old ones as soon as possible. My offer to keep the old shoes for a while was met with disdain by my mother-in-law.
- It's okay, Mom, - Margo replied vaguely, and Samantha turned triumphantly to the embarrassed saleswoman.
- See? Courage, tell me what you think of him.
The young redheaded cashier looked at me with embarrassment. She was embarrassed, but she overcame her embarrassment and spoke out firmly:
- You're an idiot! You should have taken small bills so I could feel comfortable counting you out! You stupid asshole! Loser!
With each word, the saleswoman grew bolder and bolder. She got so hyped up that at one point she snapped and just spat in my face. After a moment, she was terrified of what she had done, but Samantha..... My mother-in-law laughed out loud.
- That's the way to deal with him, that asshole Matthew! - My mother-in-law slapped me hard. - Now he'll remember to bring small bills.
The cashier counted us out, preferring not to look in my direction. However, as we left the store, she gave us a glance and looked thoughtfully in my direction. Could I consider that she enjoyed humiliating me in this way? It would be really low to consider that this girl is so horrible, but.... She's actually smiling after all!
Meanwhile, we got into the car. Samantha took the wheel. The same day Margot and I got married, Samantha forbade me to drive by myself. “I wouldn't trust my daughter's life to a slob like you.” So now, you could say my car belonged to Samantha. It was humiliating to ask her to drive me somewhere, but did I have a choice? Margo loves her mom very much, and I should love her too.
Samantha didn't drive home right away. She stopped at the ice cream parlor where Margo liked to go. Before she even got out of the car, Samantha remarked:
- See how you have to love my daughter? I remember which café she likes, don't you, Matthew? How many times have you taken her to that cafe?
- I think it was last month...
Samantha gave me a mean slap on the wrist. It was like she was putting an end to my humiliation.
However, trouble awaited us as soon as we approached the cafe. Almost all the tables were occupied. All but one. But that table had no chairs, and the waitress apologized at length for that.
- I'll look in the warehouse now, we'll probably find something you can sit on, since you're our regular customer, and....
- Don't worry, honey. After all, ‘the man’ came with us, - Samantha said dismissively. - He'll solve our problem. Right, Matthew?
Samantha crossed her arms across her chest and stomped her foot in frustration, glancing at the floor. After what Samantha had made me do in the fitting room, I knew where she was going with this. So I started to sink to my knees, not listening to the waiter's request for me to stop.
- I have a very caring husband! - Margot said proudly, sitting comfortably on my shoulders.
- Oh, I have no words... Excuse me, I'll get you a free dessert. I'm so embarrassed!
The waitress scattered apologies, but all Samantha heard was that they would get a free dessert. Nothing else seemed to bother them.
Samantha, just like Margo, sat down on my back. Only unlike my wife, Samantha spun her ass around, assuming the most appropriate position. Only then did she relax and seemingly forget I existed. Samantha made some casual conversation with Margo about all sorts of things, and my existence was forgotten. But when the ice cream came...
I don't know if Samantha did it on purpose, but she dropped a small piece right on my wife's shoe. She noticed it right away.
- Honey, you could have given your husband a treat. A piece fell on your shoe. Why waste good ice cream?
- Thank you, I'm not hungry, - I said meekly, but it angered Samantha.
- Do you want us to feel bad because we had ice cream and you didn't get any? No, you're not gonna make us feel bad. Daughter, give him a treat.
- Do you think I'm a gymnast? - Margot laughed.
My favorite wife began to bend her leg and she managed to place her toe on the ledge in the table, right in front of my face. The lacquered surface of Margo's shoe was right in front of my nose, and from that distance I could see every speck of dust, every streak of dirt left behind from my walk through the mall.
A smudge of ice cream had already stained itself in the dust on my wife's shoe, and it disgusted me to even look at it. But I knew that if I refused now, Samantha would create a scandal. My mother-in-law was too used to getting what she wanted.
I could feel Samantha's gaze on the back of my neck. She was impatient, and I had to start. I had to lick a scoop of ice cream off my wife's dirty shoes. This was uncomfortable to do due to the two women sitting on my back. My arms were already starting to shake under their weight, and now I had to twist my neck to reach the ice cream. But Samantha wasn't impressed with my feat.
She brought her bowl over and dumped out more ice cream. Some of the treat dripped right down the dirty sole of Margo's shoe, and that's when I couldn't take it:
- I'm not licking ice cream off the sole of my shoe!
- What's the matter? Are you a sissy, Matthew? - Samantha asked in a caustic voice. - Are you afraid you'll get sick? How are you going to protect my daughter from danger if even the smallest threat scares you?
- But that's just disgusting,1 I almost whimpered.
- Daughter, did you hear that? - Samantha turned her attention back to her. - Matthew thinks your shoes are disgusting. Can you believe it?
- Is it true, Matthew? - Margot gasped. - But you said you liked them. Were you lying to me?
I felt like a trapped animal. Samantha had such a way of controlling me that I was just spasming. I didn't know how to fight her. Another failure, another one I'd lost to her. Then I'd have to try a lot of mud.
PART 3
At that moment, I almost hated Samantha again. I felt like she'd put me in this position on purpose. Trapped me.
But I didn't want to hurt my wife. I love Margo very much, and I could bear a little for her sake. So I dutifully ran my tongue along the dusty sole of my wife's shoe. Licking off the ice cream, along with the dust and dirt. And her mom just kept tossing in new ice cream and new ice cream and new ice cream. Samantha was making my job endless.
- We could bring you a bowl for him, - the waitress giggled embarrassedly. I didn't even notice when she approached.
- It's okay, Matthew loves his wife's shoes. It's probably because he regrets the money he spent on them.
They all laughed at me, including Margo. My wife laughed at me because Samantha made me look stupid again. Samantha undoubtedly has a talent for humiliating me.
Thanks to Samantha's efforts, I had to lick my wife's dirty shoes for almost fifteen minutes. And it didn't make the slightest bit of sense, because when we walked back to the car, Margo had soiled her shoes in the dust again. I even felt kind of offended...
I didn't say a word the whole way because Samantha was talking to Margo. I preferred not to interfere, waiting for Samantha to finally go home. But I was in for a surprise...
- It's a good thing I decided to spend the night tonight. You and I will be able to watch our favorite show! - Samantha said contentedly.
I almost yelled, “Noooo, not again!” But I prudently remained silent. I also silently brought Samantha's things into the house. I had prepared a guest room for her, and I wanted to lie on the bed for a while. Just to rest! Unfortunately, just as I lay down on our marital bed, Samantha walked into the room. Margo was standing at her back.....
- Are you serious, Matthew? - Samantha said indignantly. - After the way you humiliated my daughter today, you're going to sleep in the same bed with her?
- But I'm... Ahem. Where am I supposed to sleep? We sleep together all the time, and--
- You're harassing my daughter in her house? You're humiliating your wife!?
- How am I humiliating her?! - I nearly raised my voice in anger. - I just wanted to rest!
- You're a wimp, Matthew, - Samantha said scornfully, glaring at me. - After the humiliation you subjected my daughter to, you could have slept on the floor for a day. You should respect your wife's boundaries!
I didn't feel like arguing with her right now. I'm so tired. Still feeling the crunch of sand on my teeth, I slid off the bed and lay down on the floor. I looked at Samantha defiantly, as if to say, “Are you happy now?” But my mother-in-law said nothing. She turned to Margo and continued their interrupted conversation:
- So. I'm sure that this season we'll see the romance line develop, and....
Samantha walked inside the room, not stopping to tell some plot from the show. But the most amazing thing was that this brazen woman stepped on my hip, took a step forward, stomped on my chest, and intended to step on my head. Goddamn it, I could see her foot coming towards my face!
- Hey! What the hell?!
Samantha interrupted her story, exhaled noisily through her mouth, and brought her foot down on my chest. Looking down indignantly at me, a worm under her feet, Samantha asked:
- What else!
- What the devil are you doing walking all over me? I'm not a doormat!
Samantha didn't answer right away. She turned to my wife and mockingly asked:
- My sweet unfortunate daughter.... Why didn't you tell me before that your “husband” was so stupid? - Turning to me again, she continued: - I want to walk on the floor. Where else am I going to step on?
- But I'm lying here!
- Exactly. I need to get through. It's not my fault you got in my way. In fact, you could apologize for making me lift my feet to step on you. You think that's very convenient?
I'm speechless. I just couldn't find a line for that kind of insolence.
- But you could have gone around me.
- Why should I have to look under my feet and choose where to put my feet? You call yourself a man, and you could have made sure the house was clean and the floor was in order. Honey, your “husband” mops the floors in the house, doesn't he?
- Not regularly, - Margo giggled. - Sometimes, I do it myself because Matthew gets lazy.
- Damn you... - Samantha rubbed the bridge of her nose. - Okay, we'll talk about that another time. Right now I'm waiting for you to apologize to me. Or are you so stupid that I have to give you a reason again?
I was shaking with anger and irritation. Gathering my will in my fist, I meekly said:
- I'm sorry you had to lift your feet.
- That's better, - Samantha snorted derisively. Extending her leg, she roughly shoved my chin with her foot. - You could have turned your head. Do you really think I'm an acrobat and I'd be comfortable stepping on your face?
- Just keep walking... - I hissed furiously.
- I'm going to step here. Well, I'll bill you from the hospital if you cause me to twist my ankle.
Saying that, Samantha took a step and stepped on my face. Her heel squeezed my jaw and her toes rested on my forehead. Samantha was walking barefoot, so I could smell the scent of her feet perfectly. The odor was not a pleasant one, a mixture of rotten cheese and sweat.
Thankfully, Samantha didn't linger on my face. She stepped off me, leaving a heaviness in the back of my head. But Margot... My favorite wife decided to repeat after her mother. What was going through her head right now? I had no idea.
Margot was smiling, and looking at me.... With pride? My wife stepped on my thigh, then on my stomach. When Margo reached for my face with her foot, I turned my head on its side, and Margo placed her foot on my ear. Except Samantha stopped in front of her, and didn't seem to be going any further.
- Are you listening to me, honey? - Samantha exclaimed indignantly, interrupting herself. She looked over her shoulder, noticing that my wife was looking down at her feet.
- Of course I'm listening, Mom! - Margo chirped.
Margo put her other foot next to me, on top of my head. She stood on my head with all her weight, and now she was looking only forward, at her mom. All I could do was sniffle quietly under her feet. It was lucky that Margo weighed so little, but I was still counting the seconds. I couldn't wait till they were done talking and out of here. I swear I'm going to hide under the bed so Samantha just won't find me....
PART 4
It was extremely stupid, but I realized my idea. I was really under the bed, and I was looking at the bottom of the bed, covered in dust. Somewhere up there, my wife was sleeping peacefully. My beloved Margot... She often slept until lunchtime, and even more, and now it was eight in the morning.
I wondered if Samantha had a similar routine, for Margot must have gotten those manners somewhere, right? She wouldn't be able to sleep at home until lunchtime if her mom got up much earlier. However, Samantha woke up much earlier than her daughter, and had been texting me one message after another for ten minutes.
I had time to read them on my locked screen, and only saw the beginnings: "where the hell have you been? I'm a...“, ”You damned bum! You...". “I'll wake Margot, and it'll be on your conscience if...”.
The last message was a direct threat. I didn't want to start the morning with an argument, and I certainly wasn't going to ruin my favorite wife's mood. I knew how she liked to sleep in in the morning, so I started to crawl out from under the bed and started pretending I had just woken up as I walked.
I ran into Samantha in the kitchen where she was composing more threats for me, and it wasn't until she saw me that she put the phone away.
- What the hell took you so long to sleep, Matthew? I've been up for an hour and I still haven't gotten my breakfast. Plus, the sink is dirty and I had to wash my face in this dirty sink! How do you explain that?
A stream of accusations, since this morning. Sighing, I started babbling excuses, and making breakfast for Samantha. I wasn't hired as a maid for her, but my mother-in-law clearly wasn't going to rest until she was properly served. But before Samantha even appreciated breakfast, she came into the bathroom where I was just finishing washing the sink.
- What's that supposed to mean? - She was indignant.
- Uh, what do you mean?
- I have to figure out every step for you? - Samantha held out her hand and gave me a light slap. - Why are you such an idiot, Matthew? Why are you ashamed to be my daughter's husband with such a stupid brain?
I was starting to boil, but Samantha was raising her tone of voice too much. If she kept yelling, my wife would definitely wake up, and then all my attempts to favor Samantha would be in vain.
- I'm sorry for being so stupid, - I mumbled meekly. - Can you tell me what I did wrong? I cleaned the sink.
- And the chair? - Samantha was even louder. - Why didn't it occur to you that I might want to wash sitting down? Why didn't you take care of your wife's mother? Have you no conscience at all!?
- Calm down! - I panicked. - I'll go and get you a chair.
- You're not going anywhere, Matthew, - Samantha grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. - Get a chair here without leaving the bathroom. I'm not going to have you stomping down the hallways and waking up my daughter.
I shook with annoyance. She was making a lot more noise than I would have made getting a chair. But I was afraid Samantha would keep screaming, so.... I've had that experience before. What difference would it make how many times my mother-in-law would sit on me like a chair?
I kneeled down and Samantha immediately hummed and sat on my back. She wiggled her ass, and then hummed unhappily again.
- That's not low enough. It's too low.
I tried to arch my back, but she continued to grumble unhappily.
- But I'm not tall enough!
- So sit down differently, put your stupid head up for me! Maybe she'll turn out okay at least as a chair? - Samantha slapped me again. - I doubt it, though. I've never met a more stupid person in my life.
Still feeling searing irritation, I sat up differently, straightened my shoulders, and propped my head up against Samantha's. She placed her palm on the top of my head, tried it on, and then pressed roughly on my forehead, lowering my head so that my face was looking vertically upward.
- Don't you dare drop me. You won't be able to clean up the consequences! - Samantha threatened, placing her foot on my thigh.
She was definitely going to sit on my face, and didn't seem to have any feelings about it, but I just couldn't keep quiet!
- Hey, that's my face! That's not decent!
Samantha was already standing with both feet on my hips, and from this position, she looked back at me. Samantha was looking at me again with that same look, as if I were retarded.
- What's the difference between your face and your back? It's just as much a part of your body, Matthew. I don't care what I sit on, as long as it's high enough.
I just couldn't find an argument against Samantha's lines. She was being absolutely horrible, and I could think of nothing else to do but remain silent and wait for Samantha to sit on my face.
Samantha was dressed in homemade shorts made of thin fabric, so when she sat down, the fabric stretched over her generally pretty buttocks. I would have even experienced some fetishistic pleasure from contact with my mother-in-law's ass, but.... As soon as she lowered her ass to my face, my neck begged for mercy.
It was like approaching a neck muscle exerciser. It was like I was pulling a huge weight with my head to stretch. Only unlike the exercise machine, Samantha's ass wasn't comfortable. She was also constantly moving! Oh, and Samantha didn't seem like she was going to stop anytime soon. She just sat comfortably, and washed her face.
I could hear Samantha spitting out toothpaste. Those moments when my mother-in-law leaned over the sink became bliss for me. In that position, her weight pressed mostly on my jaw, and my neck rested from the constant strain. But as soon as Samantha continued to admire herself in the mirror, I would slip back into hard physical sport.
- Good morning Mom! - Margo's voice came through. I didn't even hear her enter the bathroom. However, my wife came over to me and ruffled my hair. - Good morning, Matthew! You are such a gentleman for helping my mom!
- He would have been a gentleman if he had offered to help me, but I had to make him," Samantha said angrily. - He didn't care that he might wake you up. Can you imagine how selfish your husband is?
- Matthew? - Margot asked in a tragic voice. - I don't believe it, he's always been so concerned about my sleep....
- He's selfish, you can be sure of that. He only does what's asked of him. He even made breakfast just for me, and that was because I begged him for it, telling him how hungry I was... - Samantha lied, continuing to sit on my face. - If your husband was a caring man, he'd probably make breakfast for his favorite wife too.
- Ugh mom, you've been ruining my mood since morning..... - said Margot sadly. - Or rather, it's Matthew who's ruining it. Well, I'm going to make myself some breakfast. By myself.
Margo left, and I was left to serve as Samantha's chair. She'd just lied to me, and now she made me look terrible in Margo's eyes.
Would I have a chance to justify myself...?
PART 5
Despite all my attempts to justify myself, we never managed to resolve the situation. Margo wouldn't let me take care of her by making her breakfast, and I had to stand by, wondering how I could make it up to her. Unfortunately, the whole time Samantha was making the situation worse by telling her daughter what a creep I was. And this is after I let her sit on my face!?
- I assure you, sweetheart, - Samantha said calmly. - Matthew doesn't consider you family. You and I are the only ones who can be considered kin.
- But he's my husband! - Margot looked at me in surprise. - How can he not think of me as kin?
- A normal husband wouldn't be afraid of his wife, and he wouldn't be afraid of her mother. Wouldn't you agree with that? - Samantha looked carefully at Margot, and she nodded, of course.
- Yes, Mother, but did Matthew say something like that?
- He hasn't yet, - Samantha raised a finger. - But we can easily check whether he's squeamish about you or not. Spit in his face.
- Spit in her husband's face? - Margot laughed. - Mama, but that's so silly!
- There's nothing silly about giving your husband a little moisture. You don't think it's something awful to kiss him, do you?
At those words, Samantha shrugged squeamishly. As if kissing me was the worst thing she could imagine. But Margo liked her argument. She rose from her chair, walked over to me, and took me by the shoulders. Looking into my face as if she was going to kiss me, Margot said:
- We're going to show her that this is stupid, right? - she asked hopefully.
- Yes, my love, - I answered meekly. I had no choice.
And Margo spit in my face. Her thick saliva dripped down from my eyebrow, onto my eye socket and cheek. The disgusting, gross sensation of sticky saliva haunted me every second, and I was sure I looked extremely humiliating. It was a good thing the only onlooker was Samantha. But I had to do something to demonstrate my humility. So when Margo's saliva rolled down to my lips, I licked it off.
- See, Mom? - Margot triumphed. Turning to me again, she spat directly into my mouth. - I could spit in Matthew's face all day and he'd be grateful.
- He's only doing it because I pointed out his mistake, - Samantha snorted. Pulling her daughter aside, Samantha spit in my face herself. I licked up her spit, too.
- You may only see Matthew's bad traits, but he really loves me. And that incident this morning… - Margo waved her hand toward the bathroom. - Maybe Matthew was just tired and didn't think. I mean, he could be…
- ...trained, - Samantha finished her daughter's sentence and spat in my face again. - You can. But when I agreed to this marriage, I thought I was marrying you to a man, not a dog.
- I like it. My dog Matthew. Serve!
I liked that Margo was having fun, so I played along. I got on all fours and started crawling around the apartment, wiggling my butt. Margo threw all sorts of things on the floor and I picked them up with my lips, bringing them to her like a dog. Margo was really having fun, but Samantha was getting darker and darker. And I didn't like that.
The volcano erupted two hours later. Samantha claimed the washing machine was broken. Even though I was sure it was in good working order. She pointed this out to Margo, saying I couldn't take care of the cleanliness of her house.
- I'll fix it, - I tried, but Samantha blocked my path:
- Are you trying to call me a liar? - she said indignantly. Turning to Margo, she said: - your husband is calling me a liar, how do you like that?
- Matthew, what are you doing? - Margot marveled. - If mom says the washing machine is broken, then it is!
Margot looked at me, and her eyes seemed to be moist. Was she really ready to cry over such nonsense? But I really had to agree with her accusation, whatever it cost me.
- I'm sorry, Samantha. Okay, it's broken.
- That's right. It's broken! And where am I, your wife's mom, supposed to wash my dirty laundry? - Samantha continued the pressure. - By the way, I was going to wash my underwear and socks so I could pick them up tomorrow morning. What am I supposed to do?
- Do I have to hand wash them? - I asked uncertainly, looking at Margot all the time. How would she react?
- I'm used to using the washing machine, - Samantha refused to help. - If you weren't such an idiot, you'd offer a reasonable alternative. You are an idiot, aren't you, Matthew?
Samantha extended her hand and began tapping her knuckles on my forehead. At that moment, I flared with anger, but humbly accepted the humiliation. For Margo's sake.
- Yes, I'm an idiot. What am I supposed to do?
- Think for yourself, you idiot Matthew. You've been talking so much, you should know by now.
Margot, who had been silent all this time, became nervous and gently touched my shoulder:
- Matthew, you don't have to look stupid in front of your mom. You're embarrassing me, aren't you? - said Margot sobbing. - Mom means she could wash her dirty underwear in your mouth!
I looked at Samantha in amazement and she nodded decisively. Does she really want to do that...?
- I can, but... Is that effective? It's a load of crap!
I hoped the reminder of efficiency would work, but Samantha turned the situation to her advantage. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a scornful look.
- You see what kind of husband you have? A pathetic loser with low self-esteem.
- My husband is not a loser! - Margot was indignant.
- Really? With such low self-esteem? - Samantha snorted.
- You're just pushing it! Matthew, you can handle this, right? - Margo put her arm around me. - Prove to your mom that you're not a loser. You're gonna do great.
Samantha pulled her dirty panties out of her robe pocket and held them out to me defiantly. Goddamn... Goddamn it!
Barely containing my rage, I took her dirty underwear in my hand and tried to put it in my mouth. But that bitch Samantha was already pulling out the crumpled, stinky socks....
PART 6
I never thought I'd be doing something so idiotic. I was on my knees because Samantha wanted me to. I was holding Samantha's underwear in my mouth because she wanted me to. And I was chewing... Chewing on that fabric, sucking on it, knowing full well that it made no sense.
- Try your best, Matthew, - Margo encouraged me, sitting beside me.
Periodically, Margo put her arms around me, stroking my hair. Margo genuinely wanted me to prove to her mother that I wasn't a loser. Except I wasn't sure I could prove it that way. Rather, I was proving even more that I was a loser while I was sucking on her mother's dirty laundry.
- He doesn't deserve comfort, - Samantha said sternly, taking Margo's hand and pulling her aside. - He's already a loser, and I've proven that to you more than once. So do you really think your husband is so pathetic that he can't suck my underwear without your motivation?
- He can! - Margot was indignant. - You'll see!
- So why are you helping him?
- What am I supposed to do, get in his way?
- You could at least give him a challenge. He'd be at his best, don't you think? Or don't you believe your husband can suck my dirty underpants while you slap him? Or while you spit in his face?
- Mom! - Margot laughed embarrassedly. - Why would I do such a terrible thing to Matthew? He'll think I hate him.
- Then he'll be an even worse husband than I thought. Don't you believe in his love so much?
Margot was stumped by this question. I, unfortunately, couldn't enter the discussion because my mouth was full. However, even if I had been able to talk to Samantha, I wasn't sure I would have been able to wrangle her. She was too talented at making me look like an idiot.
So Margo moved over, positioning herself across from me. Watching my jaws work, Margo began to peck me on the cheeks. Margo didn't slap me hard, but they were very hurtful. Each time Margo's palms burned my cheeks, I struggled to hold back tears. But I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to look like an even bigger weakling in front of her.
- My arms are tired, and he keeps doing your laundry, - Margo said tiredly. - Doesn't that prove that he's doing a good job?
- No, it doesn't. Spit in his face, - Samantha demanded.
- Okay, - Margo sighed, smiling at me and winking.
Then, she started spitting in my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the look on Samantha's face. Samantha seemed to be enjoying making Margo do this to me. But it was like she couldn't get enough.
- Now, you need to put your shoes on and wipe your feet on his stupid face.
- Wipe my shoes on Matthew? Mother, but good wives don't do that to their husbands! - Margot was outraged.
- If Matthew had been a good husband, he would have suggested it. Or do you think he hates you so much that he'd refuse to take care of you while he's taking care of me?
Samantha's next sentence stumped us both, but Margo seemed to be beginning to understand her logic. She nodded.
- Okay. That's really fair, honey, - Margo took my hand and helped me up. - Don't worry, I won't wear heeled shoes. I don't want you to get hurt. I'll wipe the soles of those boots I hiked in on you. They need cleaning, and you promised you'd clean them anyway.
Margo already seemed to want to use me in this way herself. She forced me to lie on my back, in their hallway, and first stood on my chest and then put her foot on my face. While I sucked on her mother's dirty laundry, Margo tried to brush the dirt from the soles of her shoes against my face. She would press down with her foot and shuffle, leaving dirty smudges. Margo did it time after time, but Samantha encouraged her. So Margo got both feet up on my face after all.
Of course, I couldn't just lie there motionless. Margo got up on my face in a bad way and my head started to spin.
- Honey, - Margot said reproachfully. - Try not to spin your head around! Mommy needs to see that you're trying to take care of us, or she'll think you're a loser. I have to do a quality shoe cleaning, brushing the dirty soles against your face while you're washing Mommy's laundry in your mouth!
I felt sick to my stomach as Margo's speech began to remind me of Samantha's. It was as if Samantha had switched some mode in my wife's head, and now she was acting just like a nasty bitch. But I wasn't about to think Margo was a horrible person. Even now, while Margo was spitting my face with her legs, causing a lot of discomfort, I loved her, and really tried not to twist my head around.
- Okay, you're not cleaning your shoes properly anyway, - Samantha snorted. - Let me try to brush my sneakers against it.
- Oh, come on! - said Margo, relieved. - But you're not going to tell me that Matthew couldn't shine my shoes, are you? You just didn't give him enough time.
- I can blame Matthew for being sloppy, - Samantha said mockingly, putting her foot on my forehead. Abruptly shifting all of her weight onto that foot, Samantha placed her other foot next to it, on my lips. - If he really loved you, he'd hurry up.
Now, my beloved Margo was only a witness. I sucked on Samantha's dirty underwear while she stood on my face with all her weight and brushed the dirt from her sneakers against my skin. It was disgusting, but I tolerated it. Even though it was stupid of me, I really believed that Margo and I could beat her. Except... Margo's phone rang, and she was about to drop the call.
- Stop! - Samantha shrieked, nearly falling off my face. - You have to answer it.
- But why, mom? He calls me every day, and I'm tired of saying no. Maybe I should block him.
- I'd advise you to block him if you really didn't want to see him, - Samantha said snidely. - Have you forgotten what you told me?
Samantha was clearly amused as she continued to stomp on my face.
- I haven't forgotten, but... Mom, that's not decent! What will Matthew think?
- Matthew's gonna be busy anyway. Or do you really believe Matthew hates you and would leave your shoes dirty? You, his loving wife, gave him a chance to shine your shoes with your face. Do you think he will reject your gift, basically spit in your direction, and not want to clean your shoes with his tongue when he's done sucking my dirty laundry? Do you think Matthew is such a bastard?
- Of course not! Well... I guess I should answer the phone then, huh? Maybe he'll finally back off.
Samantha grinned, escorting Margo away with her gaze. Samantha was still standing with all her weight on my face, not even caring about the pain she was causing me.
And I didn't know what bothered me more. The fact that I would have to lick my wife's dirty shoes, or the fact that my wife was now talking to some man who called her every day....