Me too, me too! The underwear thing, the going out thing, the body shape comments (he'd buy stacks and stacks of chocolate at the supermarket, stick it under my nose at every opportunity, then tell me how fat I was... and just like Mrshidden's H, he would switch to flattery/affection when challenged). He says he never stopped me going out, but it usually ended up not being worth the fallout if I did. Accusations of infidelity on a daily basis, of course, especially if I missed a train home - who knows what I could have got up to in that missing 20 minutes?! (Other than standing, either too cold or too hot, on a busy platform, with sore feet and an aching back, longing for a cup of tea...)
Unlike most of the examples here, he didn't criticise my housework because he actually likes things as chaotic as possible. So if he had a grumble, it was about too much tidying up, and heaven help me if I threw anything away - including actual rubbish sometimes (he had a very good reason why he needed to keep all those cardboard boxes, for his work in the garage, but when I said why not keep them in the garage instead of all over the kitchen he said "don't be silly").
He would never FORCE sex on me, but if I didn't give in the sulks were unbelievable.
He'd even do it when the kids were in the room sometimes. There was no privacy; our bedroom effectively became the sitting room, because the only working telly was in there and the lounge chairs were covered with Stuff which he was in the process of sorting out (for five years...) The bedroom key mysteriously went missing. And once he jumped me when I had the 'flu and was too weak to say no. Conversely, if I initiated anything, he would tend to lie there like a log so I had no idea whether what I was doing was having any effect at all, then more often than not would say "it's far too late for anything like that, you've got work in the morning, I'm only thinking of you", and turn over. But if I hadn't initiated anything for a while, I was "never interested", so I couldn't win; which of course was the point.
It did gradually escalate over the years, although it never turned to violence (on his part!) and I don't believe it ever would. The nearest he got was the night I snapped, smashed some plates and started to throw things at him, stopped myself, hugged and apologised to the kids, packed an overnight bag and left the house. He was too passive-aggressive to stop me (I don't believe he was afraid of me, he is not afraid of pain or anything physical), but he did insist on taking his glasses etc out of the car, reaching across me to do so, ugh ugh ugh, as he said I couldn't be trusted not to throw and break them. When I came back, after a couple of days at my brother's followed by a previously booked counselling session, the only thing he said (after a couple of days) was that he had checked out the legal position and if I broke anything else around the house it would be criminal damage and the police would remove me. Which was of course nonsense, so I ignored it. Oh, and he had changed the padlock on the front gate, but I just had to park the car outside and climb over, no problem, done it before when he'd gone out unexpectedly. The house key still worked. Mind you he wouldn't have wanted to lock me out really, as I might have stopped paying the bills...
So where did I get the strength? I think I always had it, but didn't realise I had it, and it was his purpose in life to see I didn't find out. One day he shot himself in the foot by telling his sister we were getting divorced so that I could go and live with another man, and outlined such a viable scenario for separate accommodation and childcare that I felt a sudden wonderful sense of the possible - yes, it really could work, I don't have to put up with all this until the last child has grown up. Of course he didn't mean it, but I had seen the light. Except for the other man thing - can't be bothered with that.
It took another two years to get the divorce finalised and the house sold, but in the meantime I reclaimed my space by throwing him out of the bedroom, closely followed by the telly. I couldn't find the key but I did keep the door shut, which was a great relief after four sons of various ages used to wander in and out while I was stood on one foot trying to put my pants on. I suddenly realised it was perfectly reasonable to have my own space. What I don't understand is why it took so long.