Before we met the first time in December, we talked about aftercare. What I need, when I need it. I know that I needed aftercare in the past, but to say in which situations and what exactly was needed isn’t easy. It differs from partner to partner and from time to time.

Hell, for the first years into D/s I had no idea about the concept of aftercare and allowed my partners to tell me that I am simply being way too needy. It was a revelation, when a friend told me “You’re experiencing a drop and will need aftercare. I’m here.”.

That was the moment when I not only learned about (sub)drop, but also about aftercare. Since then it became somewhat of an indicator for me, when being with someone. Having the need of aftercare brushed off, ignored or made fun of, always raised more red flags than anything else.

So, before meeting in December, Michael and I talked about aftercare. I had no idea what I would need and his suggestions didn’t help. Mostly because he is Michael and they were simply ridiculous. We decided that we’ll see what will happen and work with that.

To my surprise, I wasn’t really dropping after I left in December. Same is true for March. All the things he did, and had been doing before, were enough to calm me down and make me feel loved, cared for and respected.

I did have at least one huge drop, about two days after a very intense Mean Day. It was hard and not having him anywhere near me, made it only harder. All the aftercare could only happen over the phone, WhatsApp and that’s it.

I don’t remember the last time I said “I need aftercare”. I’m not sure I ever did.

This morning I woke up and I knew that was about to change. I wouldn’t say there was any specificly intense play happening last night or in the hours before that. But I guess it’s not about the physical impact that a scene, moment, implement can have.

I know from my experience with Mean Days and actual in-person-moments it’s not the physical aspect that have the most influence on me. It is and always has been the mental, emotional, verbal part. Being called a “cunt” or a “whore” (consenual of course) gets more to me than the armored cane snake or spankings.

Last night, as we were falling asleep and some dirty talk was happening, he told me to change my position and lie down in a way that my feet were at the top of the bed, while my head was near his crotch. I fell asleep with his cock in my mouth.

As sexy as that sounds, when I woke up I knew I didn’t have a good night. My neck was stiff from the position I was in, I was a bit cold, missed having a pillow. But the worst was my head. I was lying there for a bit and had to force myself to say out loud what I needed at that moment.

Being a very shy person, it is a constant fight making myself say things out loud and not just think them. I have gotten pretty good at it, with daily things. But in moments that are uncommon, I find it very hard.

There I was this morning. I knew exactly what I wanted and needed. I needed to change back to the normal position and I needed aftercare. And I lay there, and lay and lay. Can you imagine: He didn’t read my mind! After several minutes of breathing a bit louder, touching him and moving my feet, nothing happened. Shocking, I know.

I can’t explain the inner struggle I experience in situations like that. But, I sat up, looked at him asked to move back and as I was in his arms, the tears started and the only thing I could say, was that I needed aftercare.

Which he delivered, btw. Poor him. All he had to work with to figure what he could do, was me nodding and shaking my head and the occasional shrug.

He calms me down, and I fell asleep to some stories about Route 66. A bit later this morning he asked whether I wanted to talk about what happened. And as much as I wanted to shake my head and bottle it all up inside me, because that’s how I always did it, I nodded and was able to express my feelings that morning, which I will get into in a different post.

What really helped me was his assurance, what I good job I did, expressing my need for aftercare.

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