When you enter a house with your army boots on… (a story)

When you enter a house with your army boots on…

Wendy was the type of person who couldn’t get thru a day or a chat without conflict. She thought everyone was stupid, well at least of less intelligence than her. So if any topic came up, she’d start a lecture going. She expected everyone to gather around and nod like they were bobble-head dolls. They weren’t allowed to have opinions of their own. Unless they agreed with her.

You could say things like, but she meant well, and hey maybe she really is as smart as she thinks. But maybe some people just don’t like preachers away from the pulpit, or teachers away from the front of the class. They like to make up their own minds. Based on their own experience. And ok, if they are wrong, they’re the ones who have to live with the consequences, right?

But Wendy didn’t think like that.
She read, she wrote, she studied, she prayed and heard the voice of her gods (or is it demons?) and went forth to spread the gospel according to Wendy. (Wait! Is there a Wendy chapter in the Bible?? I must have missed that one!…)

She claimed to be submissive… But not a single man’d swear that they had actually seen her submit. She’d lay down her rules, her preferences, what attitude they should take with her, who they should be… to the point where they were wondering if there was room for them in the list.

What did she actually want or need from them specifically? Nothing that was tangible.

Wendy described herself as a brat, a princess, a SAM… anything that meant the master, sadist or dominant had to do things her way. Or else. She had everything mapped out, to the point where the few guys who did engage with her felt shut out of the dynamic part. They felt they were fetish dispensers. They weren’t teaching her anything. nor were they the ones leading. Like she was using their penis to masturbate, as a sex toy. But fuck the rest of them.

The only way they could have broken her was if they abused her. And luckily for Wendy, they weren’t the type. So they walked away. Leaving her believing they weren’t strong enough for her. They couldn’t handle her. She didn’t see their walking away as maturity. She saw it as her being failed by them.

Maybe you agree with her? But she had no friends, her coworkers refused to invite her to their shindigs, and nobody wanted to play with her.

But every night Wendy prayed for the man who was strong enough for her to come into her life. And her guardian angel would sit crying, wondering how to help this lonely woman.

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