Dominant to the last

He sat in the king size chair that only a few months ago had fit him as though it had been intentionally created as his throne. Now it seemed to dwarf his thin, almost frail form. The agony of his disease had deeply etched his already craggy features and haunted his eyes.

She knew he hated to see her cry, yet tears flowed unbidden and unchecked as she watched her beloved fading before her very eyes. The doctors had long since given up any hope of his recovery, and now all they would give her to help him was the morphine he hated so much. It eased his pain but made it unbelievably difficult to speak.

He shifted slightly and a grown escaped from deep within him.

She leaned over to squirt another dropperful of the vile liquid under his tongue, knowing that as it eased his pain it would also slow his already labored breathing and hasten his final parting from her. Guilt washed over her. He was so strong, a warrior who had valiantly battled the ravaging disease for years longer than the doctors had ever believed was possible, and here she was – his mate, his lady, his beloved Babygirl – giving him the pain-relieving poison that would numb his keen mind and dull his senses.

Choking back the sobs that once again threatened to wrack her body, she gently kissed the top of his head and whispered, “I'm sorry, my Love.”

He heard the guilt in her voice – the guilt he had spent years spanking out of her. Suddenly the dullness was gone from his eyes. His eyebrow lifted sharply, his eyes flashed with the familiar sparks of controlled anger, and his voice resonated with authority and passion.

“Kathyrn, do NOT do that to my Baby!!”

Goosebumps flushed her body and a familiar shiver ran up and down her spine. Death like quicksand sucked at his body, yet his spirit was unvanquished. Her submission to him had not been quickly or easily won. In the beginning, fierce battles of will had raged between them, but he had unfailingly prevailed. He had conquered her will and won her heart. Now her acquiescence to his unquestioned authority came as naturally as the beating of her heart.

“Yes, my Love,” she sighed as she sank to her knees in front of him and lay her head in his lap. “That's my good girl,” he whispered as he gently stroked her hair.

They were the last coherent words he ever spoke to her. He had maintained his dominance to the very last.

Kathy

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2003 Oct 7 - 11:04 | login or register to post comments | latest article | previous article | next article |

Poignant

This brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing.

by Jenny on 2003 Oct 9 - 20:44 | login or register to post comments

what happen to her?

was she able to go on so dependant on someone who was no longer there? How could you ever love again after loving someone so completely. The thought of that type of love is frighting and yet i see it growing in my own home every day.

by rachelle69_us on 2005 Jan 19 - 18:48 | login or register to post comments

Love and death

I don't know, I have mixed feelings about it. It's very touching in a way, yet I can't help feeling that when a person is dying it's time to let go of the dominant/submissive thing, I mean she's got to go on living without him, so shouldn't he really be letting her get on with it and stop throwing his weight around. It sounds as if the control he had over her might have been a bit excessive anyway, I don't personally feel that authority should ever be unquestioned. And under the circumstances, I feel it is slightly unreasonable of him to expect her not to cry, assuming that she loved him, which she evidently did, she would naturally cry when he was dying.

by Louise C on 2005 Jan 19 - 19:43 | login or register to post comments

Connecting For As Long As Possible

Let go of the dominant/submissive thing? It's not a toy to pick up and play with for a time and then toss in a corner! This was their way of *connecting* to each other. This was their way of expressing their total love. It was also the only meaningful way they could grieve together; she, because he was dying, and he, because his condition and pending death was causing her pain. They were comforting each other in the only way they could, by communicating the very essence of their being.

KrosRogue

by KrosRogue on 2005 Jan 20 - 07:28 | login or register to post comments

Dying person's wishes

If that was how some-one I loved wanted their last moments to be like, I'd do my best to comply. I can grieve afterwards, or away from them - neither of us would gain anything from me making them more miserable at that point.

--

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so" Hamlet, somewhere.

by ConfusedOfHomeCounties on 2005 Jan 21 - 20:14 | login or register to post comments

Dominant to the last

I am choosing to share a poem Darrell wrote for me. It is long, but anyone reading will understand he was anything but controling. He loved me and did everything in his power to help me grow stronger and better each day we were together.

THE HUNTER AND THE TIGRESS KITTEN

Once I was out hunting, a tiny tiger cub I spied.
When I approached, it fought and it cried.
There, there, Little One, I said,
And brushed tears from its eyes.

The night was cold, ice crystals clung to its fur,
I dried it, stroked it, and softly it began to purr.
Then I tucked it into my coat where it was nice and warm,
Determined 'twas I who was meant to keep it from harm.

So I took it to my house, made it a bed by the fireside bright.
Hark, I awakened, a tiny clicking sound there in the night.
It's only my "little kitten" I said as I sighed away the fright.

So I settled down and pretended I didn't see.
After all, it made no difference if the kitten slept next to me.
She curled up, placed her tiny paw and head there on my arm.
Unspoken words and promises transpired.
Yes, I'd promised to keep her from harm.

Many suns and moons have come and gone.
Now my "little kitten" is almost grown
And she patrols the parameters of our farm.
I watch, just in case, to keep her from harm.

Quite the huntress she is too, strong in her own right,
But my favorite time is after the darkness takes the brightness away.
She chooses once again to assume, but only for the night,
To become my kitten, and we skirmish, wrestle and play.
Once again the tiny clicking sound at close of day.

She chooses to become my then "tiny kitten".
Coming to me, she chooses to lay
Her head on my shoulder, paw on my arm,
Her full grown body, the tigress in full form.

I stroke her matured body, all cuddly and warm,
Stroke her three times and she knows what it means.
Stroking gently, three times once again,
I know she knows full well she is my Queen.

Tigress by day, doing all she chooses her own way,
And gently I cheer her under my breath,
"Give 'em hell, "Kitten" -- do it YOUR way!

While she's out "doing her own thing" by day
I pause in my studies, and in my meditations I will say,
"I give thanks to the powers that be for sending her my way".

But in the fullness of the night, when everything gets right,
Next to me my "Kitten" chooses to be, all through the night.

So -- how am I? Aching inside for the day his last promise to me will be fulfilled. Just a very few days before I lost him, he reached up and cupped my face in his hand and said, "Someday, some place, we will play again, My Love". He never once broke his word to me -- if there is any way in the universe to make it happen, this man with his unconquerable will will make it happen. In the mean time, I am working hard at an on line personal ministry, one I know he would and does support all the way. I am working to continue making him proud of me.

Kathy

by Kathy on 2005 Jan 27 - 12:40 | login or register to post comments

Love and Death

I was sexually and pschologically abused from the age of 3 - 12 by my paternal grandmother. My mother was an emotionally cold and very controlling woman, my dad was an emotionally absent father. I first married a man who continued the abusive patterns I was conditioned to for another 16 years -- and by the time I was 39, I tried very very hard to end my life, putting myself in intensive care for a week. I truly had reached the place where I was convinced that the kindest thing I could do for any one would be to eliminate my wretched, worthless self from their lives permanently.

I was so conditioned to being hurt, that when Darrell first came into my life, he told me it was easy to figure out the most diabolical way anyone could truly torture me. All it would require would be to tie me to a chair in such a way that I could not leave and so that I could not cover my eyes or ears with my hands. Then that person would only need to speak kind words and compliments to me to cause me intense pain.

It took a year before I changed my natural response to his "I love you". I always responded with "Well, I HATE you!!" You see, love was a bad word, something people said to you just before they really hurt you badly.

But Darrell never gave up on me. He said it was absolutely appalling that such a fascinating and beautiful creature had been allowed to run so amuck for her entire life, simply because no one had the balls to take her firmly in hand -- but he had never backed away from a challenge in his life. And a challenge it was. We waged a right war at first. I was determined no one was ever going to control me and hurt me again -- and I fought him with all the strength of the tigress. Yet he never relented in his determined goal. He conquered my will, earned my respect and won my heart for all eternity. He taught me it really was safe to trust -- and trust him I did -- unconditionally.

There were many times I wondered if I would ever again be able to sit without squirming in pain -- yet he never once hurt me. He only loved me with all his might.

Kathy

by Kathy on 2005 Jan 27 - 13:00 | login or register to post comments

You touched me profoundly

You touched me profoundly here -- and sounded so much like my Beloved. For us DD -- or our Benevolent Dictatorship as Darrell called it -- was not something we DID -- it was who we were together. Two halves of one whole -- equal yet incredibly and wonderously different.

When he said, "Kathyrn, do not do that to my Baby!!" -- he was ordering me to not feel guilty. Guilt had driven me and been used as a weapon to control me all of my life, and he had worked long and hard to free me of those chains. He knew I was feeling guilty about giving him a drug that would end his life more quickly, but he also knew it was at the point of there being no other viable option. The doctors said he had far outlived their expectations for him. He was given 6 months and we fought it together for 3 years and nine months. They would not even give him antibiotics to fight his pneumonia -- only morphine.

And he was correct -- I was allowing guilt to take over -- yet the truth is, we both had fought our hearts out, as he called it -- and neither of us deserved any guilt.

Thank you for understanding so well -- and reminding me --

Kathy

by Kathy on 2005 Jan 27 - 17:03 | login or register to post comments

Touching

This article has really touched my heart the power of their love for one another is heart warming. I feel sad for her but happy that they have experienced passion in their love. Passion is something that I hold dear to my heart, passion is something that makes life worth living. Passion in one's work, family, hobbies etc or sex. I do not know this couple and never will however I have been blessed by them.

by Kat on 2007 Jan 9 - 04:59 | login or register to post comments

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