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I feel the humming of the egg the Man buried up inside me. I whimper and my hips arch up, reaching for Him. My body feels weak yet energized at the same time. His scenes break me into pieces, shatter my soul, and rebuild another woman in her place. A sensuous, stronger, more intense woman who wants only to please Him, to give the very best of herself. He brings it out somehow from deep inside me. As He tells me now, as I am bound and naked for Him, He wants more, telling me to give Him more. My muscles are trembling and quivering from countless orgasms, my heart pounding in my chest, His gentle hand pushing the damp hair from my face. Looking at Him, I feel a connection with this Man like with no other.

My mind flashes back to the others I have known. Thinking how deeply I thought they had touched me, now realizing they barely scratched the surface. After being told for so many years that I was nothing, the computer was a balm to my battered spirit. I used the men I met here mercilessly, taking every once of pleasure I could wring from their words and thoughts. Desperately I rebuilt my sense of self, my very core of femininity that was crushed time and time again.

Sobbing suddenly, I thought of the times he laughed at my, or pushed my hands away, telling me not to touch him. That he didn't kiss me because he knew I would want more. Taking and taking from me until I was a mere shell, yet never giving an ounce of caring, or love, or appreciation back to me. I thought of how very strong I became in just a short time, nurtured by faceless men on the computer who saw me as something more than a maid, a caretaker, a nothing.

Day by day I drew from the men, absorbing the compliments like a sponge, drinking in the words of love and caring. My wounded heart began to grow again, and my spirit began to want again after years of not allowing myself to want anything, knowing I would never receive it. Inch by inch, I moved away from his iron control.

And the day came that I knew I did not want to spend my life this way; alone, lonely, unfulfilled, wanting. I hugged my new stronger sensual self tightly against me, using my writing as a way to express the thoughts and ideas inside me begging to come out.

As the men I met online disappeared from my life, one after the other, for one reason or another, I began to recreate Cathy. I had a lot of false starts and moves in the wrong direction, but constantly tried to learn from my mistakes. Again and again, I would open my heart to a man, and he would break it.

But the growth was worth the risk and the pain. Each time I became more sure it was not me, it was something in their own life that made them go away or back away. The times that I spent with them meant more to me than anyone could understand. Sparkling facets of this new Cathy were continuing to come out as I polished and shined, worked and tried harder, and gave of myself to the men in my online life.

I became friend, confidante, lover, adviser, and playmate to so many. I gave as much back to them as they gave to me. Some shared thoughts never expressed with anyone before. I never judged, I just listened, and offered myself, giving whatever they needed. Yet, at the same time, I was still drawing from them. I continued to grow and learn. In my real life, I could now look people in the eye, I lost weight, I wore more makeup and jewelry, my eyes sparkled, and I flirted. Men seemed drawn to this new Cathy, yet something was wrong.

As I grew, less and less of my friends were what I needed or wanted. There was a gnawing emptiness inside me. As I drifted further and further into the realm of D/s, the men I met took my breath away. Strong, confident, giving, sexual, powerful, all male, and above all else, miles away. The connections I felt the strongest with were those that were experienced Dom's, who knew that to make His sub the best she could possibly be was His primary purpose. But also knew that her sensual and sexual pleasure was for Him, a gift given to Him with joy and love. These Dom's inevitably lived hundreds if not thousands of miles away.

Yet still I searched. The Man I was looking for was one I had created in my mind from the stories and articles and chat conversations I had read. I knew in my heart and soul that men like those I read about existed. The frustration and wanting were building inside me.

My mind returned to His hands on my face as He pushed my damp hair away from my eyes. I thought of how generously He gave to me, the depths of submission He took me to, knowing now that it was only the beginning. At times He made me feel young and foolish, arrogant and ignorant, yet always beautiful. As He wrote for me, expressing how He would take me in our scenes, I became breathless, excited, wanton, passionate, and terrified. He knew things about me that even I didn't know yet, showing me sides and depths of myself I never knew existed. His words soothed yet excited, and I adored it, and Him.

He talked about my writing, how it was the romantic longings of a sexual woman. He knew there was so much more inside me, clamoring to be released and tapped into by a loving, firm Dom. He knew there was more to me than just wanting to be cock to cunt. He challenged me to search into myself, reaching farther, to strengthen and expand the depth of my submission. He wanted me to show Him in my writings the women He saw, the woman He was convinced was there, waiting to be released.

He made me admit how much He aroused me, how His words affected me. He offered His experience and skill as a Dom, guiding me on my journey into His world. The aching needs and feelings inside me were coming out, more and more each time we talked. Tears were a common occurence during our talks as His words reached inside my female submissive heart, saying words I had longed to hear for so long.

So many Dom's I had spoken to were selfish, crude, and demanding. Telling me I was not a true submissive woman, just a woman who liked a little pain with her sex. This one just gave to me, encouraging me, helping me. Yet at the same time I felt that He was holding Himself back from me. He never offered much information about Himself, always refocusing the conversation back to me. He told me He kept his heart out of His relationships with His pets, and that they usually leave to begin another life with another Dom. He spoke of the great pleasure He feels when a submissive grows under His guidance. How proud He is of her when she goes to her new Master, stronger, prouder, the best she has been in her life.

But how can He not feel the pain of their leaving? He gives so much of Himself during the scenes with me here on the computer. How much more of Himself does He give in person? How can you talk about the feelings and desires and needs and wants of your innermost heart without falling in love with that Man? How could he not love you back? Is this what He wants? Does your adoration and deep desire to please Him give Him what He needs?

All these thoughts were going through my head as His big hand gently stroked my face. Our eyes connected, and I know my love was evident in my shimmering eyes. His gentle smile told me He saw it, felt it, wanted it. And I gave it, endlessly, effortlessly, the bottomless well of love and devotion I have spilling out onto Him. I could feel us soothing each others' pain somehow, without a word being spoken.

More, He asks? He has touched me in every way a man can touch a woman, except physically. The tears He makes me shed nightly are healing tears, growing tears, soothing tears. The Cathy buried inside me is growing again, becoming more of my true self under this Man's guidance and caring. And I will take it, learn from him, love him, give to him, grow for him, as long as He allows me to do so.

Thank you, my Lord.

More by Cathy O'Niel copyright 2009