sexyeveryway

My parents….

Yes, submissives have parents. We’re not hatched. I have this photograph of them framed on a wall. She was his princess. He was always looking at her like this, even on her death bed. They wouldn’t have even known what D/s was, but they lived it.

She openly and utterly adored him. She knew his every need and saw to it without needing to be asked. She relied on his calm. He was her rock.

He created a world of order and predictability. He never raised his voice or his hand. He always made the decisions after they talked through things. But he decided.

They had rituals and protocols, although they never called them that. And when Alzheimer’s came to slowly steal her mind, their decades of these were the only thing that soothed and calmed her. Even when she didn’t know his name, she responded to “Who’s my best girl?” with “I’m always my best for you.”

And when it was time for her to go, he looked down at her, placed his hands over her eyes, closing them “Shhhh… it’s time for you to rest. Go on now. Go and get things ready for me. I’ll be along shortly.”

Hand to God, her last words were “Yes Sir….”

She died quietly about 36 hours later.

My parents had no idea what D/s is. But they lived the principles of the Power Exchange. And I am certain everything was ready for him when he joined her.

What a poignant and beautiful remembrance.

emos: depressed