Why Do Men Assume Women Are Doormats In Relationships?

Three years into her marriage to Caleb Hampton, Sydney Wilson finally learned the truth: the woman he loved was his sister-in-law. On the night his brother died, Sydney saw Caleb's true nature. At the funeral, she did not even flinch when Caleb took a slap meant for his sister-in-law. She always knew he had married her because she was quiet, obedient, and easy to control. She proved it, even in the way she left him. No dramatic fights. No tearful confrontations. Just a divorce quietly signed, sealed, and hidden. What Caleb didn't know was that they were already divorced. Sydney had stopped being quiet and was already seeing someone else. The day Sydney's breakthrough cancer drug took the world by storm, she received accolades and glory. Everyone cheered—except Caleb, who dropped to one knee, his eyes bloodshot with desperation, begging for a second chance. But a possessive arm wrapped around Sydney's waist, declaring to the world, "Sorry, but she's getting married. To me."

He was the strictest Dom, he loved to control women. She was a free bird and didn't want anybody to control her. He was into BDSM stuff and she despised it with all her heart. He was looking for a challenging submissive and she was a perfect match but this girl wasn't ready to accept his offer since she lived her life without any rules and regulations. She wanted to fly high like a free bird without any limitations. He had this burning desire to control her because she could be a perfect choice but she was a tough nut to crack. He was getting crazy to make her his submissive, controlling her mind, soul and body. Will their fate fulfil his desire to control her? Or will this desire transform into the desire of making her his? To get your answers dive into the heartwarming and intense journey of the hottest and strictest Master you will ever find and his innocent little butterfly. *** "Fuck you and get the hell out of my cafe if you don't want me to kick your ass." He frowned and dragged me to the backside of the cafe by seizing my wrist. Then he pushed me into the party hall and hurriedly locked the door. "What the fuck do you think of yourself? You," "Shut up." He roared, cutting my words. He grabbed my wrist again and dragged me to the sofa. He sat down and then, with a swift motion he yanked me down and bent me over his lap. He pinned me against the sofa by pressing his hand on my back and locked my legs between his. What is he doing? Chills rushed down my spine.

There's a running joke in my circle about the biggest doormats around, and I've topped that list for years. Turns out there's something even sadder than being a doormat: getting your wedding banquet canceled ten times by your fiancée. The first time, Melissa Ferguson had to stay behind and nurse her childhood friend, who'd taken a bad fall. The second time, her childhood friend was starting his first day of work, and Melissa couldn't stop worrying about him. ... The tenth time, her childhood friend got into it with a client at work, and Melissa tore off her veil and bolted out the door without a second thought. The wedding guests openly mocked me and turned the whole thing into a joke again. But I'd already made a decision. I'd go after my own goals from now on. No more wedding. Melissa and I were done. She went her way, and I'd go mine. One day, I walked straight out to the car waiting outside and went to make something of my life.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe. I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard. "So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!" Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door. Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday." I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

[warning- Steamy scenes] "Wife!" the man lovingly said. "What exactly are you attempting to do? I am not your wife, Mr. Richard Hill! Behave!" "Stop playing with men, Woman,” his distasteful voice spoke. “You are no one. Thus, I feel bothered by your presence,” Anastasia was cruel with her answer. “I have proof we are married! Furthermore, you own fifty percent of my fortune because I have vowed to spoil you for the rest of my life. Keep in mind that you are mine, and I am a possessive guy. Every eye will be dug out if they fall on you," the voice and declaration were both forceful. "I have heard you can't touch a woman because of your disease!" Ana smirked. Anastasia Long married a billionaire, Richard Hill. She knew nothing about the family or the spouse since she was coerced into it by her mother and stepfather, who exploited her mother in terrible ways. She had a step-sister as well, but her stepfather would never consider putting his own daughter into the fire. She tolerated the anguish and pain inflicted by her mother-in-law and the mistress who intended to marry Richard, but she was unfortunate to be placed in such circumstances. They humiliated her, burned her clothes, and starved her till she ended up in the hospital for a week. However, her husband never came to see her. Surprisingly, Richard Hill never met her or spoke to her as if she were married to someone who did not exist. She was made to sign a divorce decree one day, and she fled the city for five years. Upon her return, she was renowned as Dr. Anastasia Long, a gifted surgeon. People kissed her feet.