Whatever is good in this story wouldn't be half as good if it were not for the wonderful work of NotAWhit, who uses unconventional techniques to get to the heart of writing problems so they can be fixed. My deepest gratitude to this editor. Also, thank you to my story consultant, Qetesh, and special thanks to TessSoerensen for finding more mistakes and polishing it to the point where it was finally ready to submit.
The German version of this story is Hingebungsvolle Domina, posted in German Literotica by egonhoppe73.
*
Amy turned out the light, backed quietly out of the room and closed the door without making a sound. Her smile turned to a frown, and she sniffed as she slowly walked down the stairs and into the family room. She stood watching Lauren putting a glass in a cabinet. The only sound was the baseball game Mike was watching. He was focused on the screen and didn't see her.
Lauren turned and saw Amy. Their eyes met, and Amy lost control. She rushed to Lauren, threw her arms around her sister and began sobbing.
Mike got up and turned around. He saw Lauren signal him with a nod of her head to turn off the TV and watch the rest of the game upstairs in their bedroom. He tiptoed out of the room.
Amy hung on her and cried as Lauren moved them to the couch and fell onto it, with Amy landing had on top of her. Amy jumped up.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Lauren said. "Sit down and tell me what happened."
"I hate men!" her sister screamed. "They are all greedy animals who devour your body and suck the soul out of you. Then they leave your bones drying in the sun and move on to their next prey."
Lauren got comfortable. She knew from experience that she'd be listening to Amy's imaginative ravings for the next hour or when she ran out of breath, whichever came first.
The same question always came at the end, so Lauren was ready.
"You ask me that every time and my answer is still the same. There's nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful. You've got a hot body. You are caring, kind and sweet. You are funny and unpredictable and obsessive and unforgettable. Whoever is lucky enough to win you will have the greatest wife ever.
"It's them, not you. You've had a run of bad luck with your string of losers. I wish I could tell you how many frogs you have to kiss before you find your prince, so at least you would know when you were getting close."
"I've already doubled your frogs!"
"That means you'll find someone who's twice as good as Mike."
"Never. He's perfect."
"No, he's not."
"You know what I mean. He's one in a million. Tell me I'm wrong."
She wasn't, so Lauren changed the subject.
"I've been feeling guilty, but not anymore. After we hung up yesterday, I did a lot of thinking."
"What? Why should you feel guilty?"
"Because I've been neglecting you. My lame excuse was that I didn't want to interfere in your life. No more! I've already started meddling. From now on, call me Miss Busybody."
"What do you mean?"
"I've got a list of people that I'll be calling tomorrow. I squeezed another list out of Mike. And I'm going to be networking my ass off, on social media and in person."
"What for?"
"What do you think, stupid? I'm going to get recommendations, and I'm going to screen them. And the lucky ones who stand up to my scrutiny will get a date with you."
"Forget it! You've got enough to do with four kids and Mike. I don't know how you hold things together now."
"I thought you wanted five."
"That's because I'm still in competition with my older sister. She always beats me, but if I can pop out five to her four, I'll finally come out ahead."
"Shut up!"
"Seriously, Lauren. Don't waste your time. If you come up with three guys, two of them will be great catches and the third will be one of those guys who looks, sounds, and smells good and turns out to be an asshole. Guess which one I'll fall for? I'm telling you, it's me. I attract them like garbage attracts cockroaches."
Lauren didn't respond. Amy saw her hesitation.
"What is it? You are afraid what you want to say will upset me. Don't worry. Nothing you can say would make me feel any worse than I'm feeling now."
"I don't know," Lauren said. "I'm no expert in psychology. But I've been thinking about you and your ex-boyfriends, and I keep coming back to the same thing. Maybe I'm crazy, but I think I know who's responsible for all your bad relationships, going back to college and maybe before."
"What are you talking about? There's someone screwing up my love life! That's crazy."
"It's two people: Mom and Dad."
Amy looked at her in amazement. Lauren had taken leave of her senses. She had no response to such a crazy statement.
"Ohhh kayy. Go ahead!"
"How would you describe their relationship?" Lauren asked.
"They were the opposite of dysfunctional. They had the perfect marriage. How can you say...?"
"Stop right there! That's what I mean. Remember how all the kids in the neighborhood thought of them as their second parents. Our house was always full of kids because they wanted to be around Mom and Dad. Some of them had great parents, some of them not so great. But nobody compared to ours. We had a dream childhood."
"That's right. So, what's your point."
"So, we thought that our marriages would be like theirs. Have you ever thought Mike was a little like Dad?"
"Yes, and that's great. Are you complaining?"
"No. That's why I married him, but I didn't realize it at the time. I thought I was breaking away and starting to live my own life. Once Tommy was born, it was impossible to ignore the obvious. I found a man who would duplicate Dad, and I was duplicating Mom. Do you remember how Dad worshipped the ground Mom walked on?"
"Yes!"
"And how radiant she was when she could come up with something new to delight him?"
"Oh my God! You're right. That's Mike and you. Come to think about it, I've never seen you argue."
"That's not because we don't have good fights. Mom and Dad did, too. Maybe you don't remember because when you came around, they weren't as excitable anymore. They were too busy trying to keep you out of trouble. But they never fought when anyone else was around."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying you are thinking about men the wrong way. You like a guy and immediately picture him as Dad. And then you start acting like Mom and expect him to give you five babies so you can all live happily ever after."
"My expectations are too high. I need to lower them."
"That's just the start. Like you said, Dad was one in a million. Most men are closer to the opposite of what he was. You're better off going to the other extreme."
"What do you mean?"
"Just be realistic and use your own experience. When you see a man, think of him as scum until proven otherwise. Proof! Yes, that's it. Make him prove that he's worthy of you. Until he does, treat him like dirt. Chances are, he's self-centered, selfish, greedy, and only wants to seduce and abandon you. Think of him that way.
"Stop catering to your boyfriends. Take control of the relationship. They need to listen to you and do what YOU tell them, not the other way around. Control. Yes, that's it! You need to be in control."
Amy thought about what Lauren was saying. It made sense. But how? Lauren interrupted her thoughts.
"Of course, I'm exaggerating to make a point. But you get the idea."
"I think I do. So what should I do?"
"I'm not going to tell you that because I want you to still be Amy. Do what feels right for you. All I'm saying is maybe it's time to adopt a new attitude."
"You're so right!" Amy said with enthusiasm. "I feel better already. My sister still knows best."
"Hold on! I want to give you a warning, too. You are too impetuous. Every time you get into something new, not just boyfriends, you go too far too fast. Take a while and think about this before you say or do anything. Promise?"
"Yes, Mommy, I promise."
*************
Amy kept her promise. She began working on adopting a new attitude toward men and thinking about how she could stay in control. The attitude part wasn't a problem. She read a book on self-talk and started to reinforce her new perspective whenever she was alone.
The part about being in control was harder until she did a search on "being in control with men." That brought up a lot of sites. Most of them were one word different: "being in control of men." When she started looking at them, other sites popped up that were "dominating men." That led to videos and erotic stories, some of them shocking.
It was all strange and new to Amy. It intrigued her, occupied her time, and made her forget her boyfriend problems. As she devoured the videos and the written material, it felt like she was high on drugs or booze, except that she woke the next morning with no after-effects.
At first, she didn't see how this other world related to her life, but gradually she put it together with her disastrous relationships and her sister's advice, and it became obvious to her. She would no longer be a victim of men. Instead, she was going to control them and make them her victims.
Victims plural. She had found her life's calling. She would subjugate, humiliate, and enslave as many men she could until she took her dying breath. She owed it to herself and all the other girls whom they had victimized.
****************
She met Langdon as she was in the midst of discovering her new mission in life.
During lunch in the basement cafeteria, she looked up from her tray and saw a man looking at her from a few tables away. He turned his head when she noticed.
A few days later, she was in line for the cashier in the same place when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him at the coffee station looking at her again.
This time she could size him up. He was good looking and fit. He didn't look familiar. She quickly turned her head and stared directly at him. He jerked in surprise and turned away. She smiled.
The brief episode made her feel good. She had been in control, and he had been embarrassed. She wondered if she'd see him again.
A few days later, she did see him. This time he got up from his table and came to hers.
"I hope you're not upset that I was watching you."
"Not at all."
"Do you mind if I tell you the truth, even though it's trite and you've probably heard it hundreds of times? You're gorgeous. Your face and your body. That's why I was admiring you and wondering about you."
"I might give you points for honesty."
"What?"
"You were exaggerating about my face and body, but maybe you were honest about your feelings. Or you could be a really good liar."
"Thanks."
"For what."
"For telling me. I was wondering what kind of woman you are. Now I know."
"If you knew what kind of woman I am, you wouldn't be standing there. You'd be running. Consider yourself lucky you don't know."
"Tell me you're not totally self-absorbed and think your looks can get you anything. What's dangerous about that?"
"Nothing. You have part of the picture, so you can congratulate yourself."
"What am I missing?"
