The Mistress of Lies

        My heart heavy and my eyes red and swollen, I choked back the tears as I set the phone back onto its cradle. Turning in the chair, I come face to face with the inviting pixels of my computer. Taking a dry swallow, I scoot forward in the chair and my hand guides the mouse to the one place I can seek comfort. America Online. Once connected, I proceeded to a room that I would frequent. Greeting my friends, and claiming that I was sitting alone at a table with a drink in hand, smoking a cigarette, a female, Erica,  expressed concern for me. I casually explained that my girlfriend had just dumped me, and she comforted me for a minute or two. I left then, unable to see the words flowing upward through the haze of tears.

          Walking into my dark room, I laid on my bed and curling up underneath my blankets and cried softly until sleep overcame me and dreams swept me away into the night.

The next evening found me much recovered and talking again with Erica. After the initial greetings, she stated casually that she was a Domme. I knew what that meant, I had always had a curiosity for the lifestyle. And telling her this, it was then that my life changed completely. We talked often for hours at a time, and she taught me things I never dreamed I would learn.

After many weeks, I was finally collared to her and she was finally my Mistress. I loved her explicitly and trusted her whole-heartedly. We pleased each other in many ways, I lived to serve her. For the first time in my life, I felt at peace and comfortable. I couldn’t have been happier.

As quickly as it seemed to start, it came crashing down just as fast. She un-collared me with vague reasons, that I did not question. I was to much in shock. As I sat there staring at the screen, I saw her final words to me, “I will love you always my lil mistress”

As the weeks flew by, we would talk here and there. My love for her never faltering, my need to be with her, my want for her never ebbed. All I ever wanted was to be at her feet, as her sub. The aching in my heart for this need, this want…grew each day until I thought I would burst.

One day, I finally gathered up the courage to tell her. It had been two months since I was hers, but it felt like years. On that day, much to my surprise and disbelief, she also expressed how she wanted to be with me again, how much she had missed me. I thought I would die of happiness then as she ordered me to go fetch my collar. As I knelt before her, my hands trembling, unsuccessfully trying to hide my smile…she clasped on the gold necklace that would claim me to her. My heart bubbled over with joy and love for her as I once again belonged to her.

In the beginning, things were normal, things were great. Only after a few days, I saw some slight changes. I would see less and less of her online. When I did, I would never have her complete attention. She was always busy talking to other people, flirting with other people. Friends of mine would ask me about her behavior, and I would disregard their concerns, I didn’t want this to fail. I so desperately wanted this to work.

I would arrange ways for me to meet her face to face, and each time she shot it down with reasons not known to me. She asked me to understand and I tried. I couldn’t believe this was going on. Before, it was like I was the center of her world, now it was as though I barely existed in it. I refused to acknowledge that, I thought that maybe things would get better. Only they didn’t, they got worse.

I discovered that she was using heroin, drinking, and smoking weed. She wasn’t supposed to do that seeing as how she had stomach cancer. Or so I was told. Even that I was beginning to not trust because she would never tell me specifics on her condition. I would ask, and she would avert the answer. She claimed to have had many surgeries, but when I got pictures of her in the mail, I saw no scars. Her emotional state was deteriorating as well, and it affected me more and more.

I was soon getting messages from friends of mine that she was trying to ‘cyber’ with several of them while I was online with her. At this point, I had had enough. She had signed off, and I didn’t want to wait for her to randomly come back, so I wrote her a letter. I expressed how I felt, and I gave her a piece of my mind. It wasn’t a very kind letter. And I meant it to be that way. I severed all contact with her and refused to speak with her.

Never before in my life did I ever feel the way I was feeling. I’ve had my heart ripped out before, but not to this extent. Not this roughly or brutally. I felt as though my heart was this black mass that only functioned at keeping me alive. Numb of feeling, numb of caring.

For days I would cry, for weeks I would wonder “why?” for months I lived like I was hiding the pain. Getting tossed from one house to the next, being hurt again and again. Knowing that I could never trust anyone again, I dare not to or else I would lose it completely if I got hurt that badly again.

It has been a year, I am no better than I was a year ago. I still find difficulty trusting even those who have never hurt me. A woman who thinks the world of me, who would do anything for me, I find hard to be with, to trust even her.

Yet, throughout all my pain, one thing will always stand true for me…

I won’t give up-that which seeks to harm me will only make me stronger in the end.