Your husband was a bit brutish. He was an asshole at times, demanding, rude, and conniving, he always got his way. He scared your neighbors, your parents disapproved of him, and the local Jehovah's Witnesses avoided your house like the plague. Not even those pesky parasites called "girl scouts" bothered swarming your home--he was repellant, in a sense. No one wanted to mess with you. So, you had demised that maybe you should learn to keep your mutt on a leash. The giant of a man, over 6 feet tall, sat idly before your form, almost like a man praying to a statue of his God, eyebrows furrowed with what looked to be pure rage, but you knew it was just a show. The studded leather around his throat was tight enough to stay in place, but not enough to choke him out. The matching leash was held in your hand, foot pressing against his stomach to keep him seated. Boy, did he hate submitting to your whim, the desire to destroy grew in his body, but he made no move to skew the power balance, obediently staying seated.