Tara's Long Road Back From Tragedy

The next few days were filled with numbness, tears, denial, grief, and guilt. It would be three days before they would be laid to rest side by side. I would then have to return alone to that now cold uncaring house. What had been a house of love was now empty of spirit and soul. When I went to bed that night it was the coldest loneliest feeling I had ever had. There was no Master Carl to snuggle up to. No impish Monica to tease and delight me. I simply cried for hours from grief and the emptiness in the very depth of my soul.

Over the next few moths my grief would turn to depression and I had no desire to see or be with anyone. Several of my friends in the lifestyle tried to cheer me up but to no avail. My depression would turn to profound guilt, as I was the one who was responsible. Had I not angered Master Carl he would not have gone out that fateful night with Monica and they would both be alive.

Friends tried to help by talking to me and some encouraged me to find a new Dom but my heart wouldn't let me. There had been many pretend Dom's before but only one Master Carl and only one Monica. As any submissive will tell you there is a big difference between acting like a submissive on the one hand and totally giving yourself to someone else and being their submissive on the other.

I can't tell you the number of times I cried myself to sleep wanting to feel Monica's body against mine or to feel Master Carl's flogger as I submitted to him body and soul. Many a night I would dream of me lying in the middle of the bed with their loving arms around me only to wake up with them not there and then me bursting into tears.

I wallowed in my hurt and self-pity for almost three years before a glimmer of hope surfaced in my life. A new couple moved into the house next door, David and Karen Swanson. David was in his early thirties and Karen was 32. They were both friendly and easy to talk to and on occasion they would actually make me feel good. Unfortunately I would go back home to that lonely house and would sink down again into self-pity.

One spring morning Karen came over to visit and have coffee. I had left the back door open and she walked in and saw me sitting there crying.

"Oh my god what's wrong honey?" she asked with heartfelt sympathy. I did not want to tell her but three years of grief, guilt, and self-pity were dying to be released from my soul.

To this day I don't know why but I began to pour it all out to Karen who was the most patient listener God ever invented. We spent almost three hours that day talking, with me doing most of the talking, as she comforted me in an understanding way. I felt embarrassed on the one hand but relived on the other to finally get it all out.

When Karen left later that day she assured me we would talk again. She hugged me tightly and I was relived that I had not chased her off with my sad story. I still had a few tears in my eyes and they were tears of gratitude that she had understood and consoled me. She reached over and wiped the tears from my eyes and kissed me on the cheek in a comforting way and left me to go back home telling me that we would talk again. Little did I know that this was only the first step in my redemption from a life of grief and self-pity.

To be continued...