tagReviews & EssaysReflections of a Love Slave Ch. 04

Reflections of a Love Slave Ch. 04

bysimply_cyn©

It's funny how life moves on when for so long it has seemed to be on hold. But as I look up from this secluded safe place in which I have holed myself up, I see clearly that it has. Those that I once thought I could not live without have moved on as if I was just a mere cloud that had taken on an interesting shape in their lives ... a mere mirage of what they may or may not remember. I guess that which I felt to be so real at one time was, in reality, not real at all but just a façade, a simple act in their plays of life. I'm not sure if I can express what I'm really feeling as I sit down to reflect. But I have learned that sitting down to reflect and journal about my journey is one of the key ingredients to my growth.

I have definitely grown. I am not the still, small girl that was left abandoned through an e-mail ... a cold dismissal from the man that I thought I was to build a life with. As I sit and reflect back on how I felt when he abruptly thrust me from his life to live his life in "reality" offline, I can't help but smile thinking that it was surely the end of my ever-beating heart. But now as I see he has collared another girl online ... someone he has told point blank that he has no intention of taking offline into his real life, I can't help but feel somewhat amused that what I was so blinded to a couple of years ago is just as real as it can be in front of my face. God spared me from more heartache being with a man that apparently can't separate online from offline. That is definitely not what I need in my life. Nor does my daughter.

Then I watch another man that I thought I had known well, like the back of my hand, collar yet another girl and take her offline. But as I have been offline with him and know exactly how out of control he is in his own reality, I can't wonder but how long this Velcro collar will last until she, too, is fed up with the lies about reality and the lifestyle off this computer.

So then I have to ask myself ... why come back? Why continue with this heart-wrenching pattern that follows not just me, but many girls that continue their journey through slavery through this particular median? Are we all destined to only live the fantasy of this lifestyle through the role-play rooms that depict how we had read slavery to be in books? Is it really possible to find offline what I crave so? It is possible to really kneel at the feet of a strong man, be able to call him Master, and it REALLY be so?

I know there must be dozens of you out there that either have asked yourself that same question or are, at this particular time, struggling with these same questions. It's so sad that we have been taken advantage of ... that our hearts and our very natures have been exploited by those so-called men that call themselves Master. But there is something that keeps drawing us back ... something that calls to our bellies and then want and need hidden deep within our souls.

I'm not naïve to think that only slave girls go through this type of pain. Many Masters have been taken advantage of ... whispers of promises that are never to be taken seriously into their ears as they, too, strive to find their love slaves. But I see more heart-broken girls roaming these halls that I frequent and their stories all seem to mirror mine. What is it about us that screams for heartless bastards to come and trample over our hearts as if they did not bleed the same thing that pulses through their own thick skins?

But still I wait. I wait in endless nadu and with hopeful anticipation that he will come. Still I am afraid to hope that this one might be him. My hopes have been dashed so much that a part of me feels like perhaps I should never hope again. But yet I can feel it start to soar once again whenever he logs on. I find my heart beginning to beat as only a slave girl's heart can in the presence of the One she longs to serve more than any other. I am still a love slave. And in all honesty, that is what I long to be forevermore.

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