Reflections part 2f: The Painful Ending

Part 2e pretty much spelled the end of the "golden age" of our relationship which leads me to the beginning of the end.

That December I graduated from college finally with nearly double the amount of credits needed to get a degree.  K and I had plans for me to drive out after Christmas and spend a couple of weeks at her home.  We were both very excited.

Things continued on from where we left off in 2e but with a few slight twists.  K decided she wanted all of my orgasms to happen in sissy slave mode, while dressed and facing the mirror.  This was a bit of a surprise to me but I went along with it without resistance.  I realized she was firmly set on wanting me to be able to wear and appreciate fur normally.  She continued giving me writing and reading assignments and I added a few sissy slave fantasy stories for her.  It still made me feel fucked up inside, but it seems the original block was broken.

K began to tease more and more about dressing, public outings, and the like.  I'm not sure if she was doing it for her (since she seemed to genuinely enjoy it) or if it was part of her plan for me.  It could have been a little bit of both.  I realize now that what happened actually created a great divide within me as a sub.  I had my normal submissive self that took pride as being a good lover and companion, and I had the sissy slave self that was ashamed to even exist but could persevere out of his love for K.
She told me she was going to get me an outfit with ruffle-butt panties and a maid's outfit with all the fur trimmings, complete with locking buckles.  It would be pink "of course."  A few days before Christmas K let me know that we would have to cancel my trip due to some "things that were going on." I pressed a little bit and it seems there were complications going on with the divorce and her family.  We continued as we had but this was going to be a fairly long break without any in-person contact.

K continued to keep me busy.  She had some ruffle-butt panties and girlie socks shipped to me and gave me another shopping assignment.  K wanted me to get another "full set," but this time in real fur, they had to match the panties, and instead of just anything they had to be the most embarrassing items possible.  Part of my daily assignments was to find pictures of items online for the slave outfit that would "please her," but she wanted me to get some of the items locally.  To make sure they matched, K ordered me to bring the panties with me in my pocket. Before I could state any disapproval she said if I didn't, I'd be wearing the socks while shopping instead.

This assignment was a bit bigger of a struggle since there's 294802849320 shades of pink and the number of local retailers that carried real fur were few and far between.  It was also significantly more embarrassing.  I ended up getting pretty lucky as I was able to find some pieces at a discount store, though I had to go a bit "modular."  Christmas shopping was over by now and everything was a lot less hectic.  I ended up with pink gloves with fur cuffs purchased separately, giant fur earmuffs, a headband that would double as a collar, and a scarf.  I didn't manage to find a hat that matched perfectly but K let me use my punishment hat instead with 10 additional marks.

The first time we did our phone masturbation game K had at least 5 orgasms before she let me have mine.  Doing this with real fur and it being pink made me feel even more fucked up but the orgasms were increasingly intense as she went farther and farther with her verbal teasing.  Our next meeting was planned for late January.  Sometime in mid-January she went dark for a couple of days.  Over the past year we hadn't gone for more than 12 hours without contact and this was three and a half days before I heard from her.  No assignments, no contact at all.

When she resurfaced she let me know we would have to cancel our next meet up.  I asked her about it and she said that the custody battle was going to court and that would have her occupied for a few weeks.  We didn't plan a date for our next meet up but things at least returned mostly to normal with contact, assignments, and the like.  February arrived and she still couldn't commit to plans.

I was starting to get a bit scared.  I had finally graduated.  I had a good job offer on the other side of the country.  My lease was running out on my apartment.  My family was giving me shit about not already having a job or internship lined up.  The stress began to mount.  I know that K wasn't giving me full explanations.  In mid-February she went dark again for two days.  She returned with some news.  At a visit to the doctor they found a new tumor.  I immediately broke down and cried.

We still talked daily but there were no more assignments.  K had fallen into depression and started to let herself go.  I told her I would drop everything and move there now.  She told me not to.  I begged her.  She told me she wouldn't see me if I did.  She refused to talk about future plans.  I started throwing up about 6 times a day.  I could barely eat, I could barely sleep.  I asked her what she wanted me to do.  She told me to take the job and renew my apartment lease.  I told her I wanted to be with her.  She told me no.  It hurt so much.  I was supposed to be there for her, with her, loving her until the end no matter what.

Her long awaited surgery was set for August. We had always planned for me to be there with her... the last one she saw before going in, the first one she saw coming out.   The new tumor changed everything.  K began to get her personal things in order.  It was clear to me that she had given up and was planning on dying.  I felt horribly helpless, unable to be there for her, unable to comfort her.  I was being selfish, thrashing around in the remains of my broken dreams.

K lost at least 35 lbs in the next 5 weeks due to not eating.  She was like a skeleton.  I begged her every day to let me be with her.  The closest I got to a response was when she told me if she survived the surgery she would come back to me.  I cried when she told me this since I knew that with how she was going, she wasn't going to survive the surgery.  The doctors told her they wanted her to be at least 130 lbs. to be strong enough to survive and recover.  When I met her she was 105.  When she was with me she got up to 125+.  By this time I was guessing she was 90 lbs. or less.

I spent a good portion of each day in tears or throwing up.  My stomach was ruining itself and I had a lot of internal bleeding going on.  I passed on the job offer.  I negotiated a month to month arrangement on my apartment.  I had a bag packed ready to leave at a moment's notice.  K started going dark for days at a time fairly regularly now.  During a stretch in late March I steeled my resolve to make another last ditch effort.  When we finally got in contact again, she was almost like a stranger.  The warmth and love was nowhere in her voice.

"K, marry me.  I will be with you through anything.  I will be there for you through anything.  I will be by your side and love you with everything I have.  I will keep loving you no matter what.  I will be there for you, no matter what, even if that means that I have to watch you die."

I don't remember her voice, just the words, "I'm sorry, but I've made up my mind.  If I'm alive in October I'll come to you."

I immediately threw up a large pool of blood on the floor and collapsed, sobbing.  She stayed on the line, in silence as I cried and wailed for 10 minutes.  When I finally stopped, drained of energy and hope, I said a phrase I have come to regret and hate myself for ever since.

"I don't know if I can promise my love to you." She hung up.

That was the last we ever spoke.  She never again replied to any emails or answered any of my calls.  I tried her parents, people she knew, they all just told me to stop calling and ended up blocking my calls.  I wanted to apologize for what I said.  That I was too weak in the moment, spoke without thinking, and I betrayed the both of us.  I kept it up for several months but got no response at all.  To this day I do not know for sure if she survived the surgery.

This was the most painful experience of my life.  Writing this reminded me of that.  In some ways, I don't think I ever fully recovered from it.

To be continued in part 3.