Aftercare When I Needed It

After the clothes at the door party, we went back to Sara and her husband’s place to get some sleep. It took me a while to get to sleep, and when I woke, I had such a massive sub drop, by far the biggest I’ve ever had.

A sub drop is an emotional and/or physical crash after a BDSM scene or event. The party wasn’t even really BDSM, outside of having to have sex with who you are told to and how you’re told to, and I didn’t really have that much penetrative sex, although I was masturbated for most of seven hours. I physically crashed on the night, partly due to my body being shite and partly sub crash, thus having to be held up, pinned to the wall for my ass fuck (which was totally surreal and very very enjoyable). When I woke up the following morning, I was sobbing my heart out.

My husband recognised what was going on immediately. My physical crash was complete (and not massively unusual if I’m honest) but the more unusual thing was that I had a lot of the common emotional sub drop symptoms: I was very sad, almost depressed, extremely tearful and anxious, and I felt empty, disconnected, and very very vulnerable.

Now, I don’t usually need aftercare. I know its available if I need it, but I don’t normally. In some cases, I feel it sullies the scene somewhat, and I usually love the feelings of being used, being worthless, feeling empty. It all adds to the experience.

But on a day like this, I absolutely needed aftercare, and my husband started by spooning me, me as little spoon, his naked body pushing against mine, his hand gripping my tit, that hand making me feel owned, wanted, needed. With his mouth by my ear, he spoke softly, reassuringly, telling me things like how beautiful I was, how everyone love me for giving my all, how many people had asked to fuck me, how people love watching me take cock like a pro, how proud of me he was, how much he loved being my husband, how much he loved sharing me, and lots and lots of things, really nice things I can’t really remember, but that made me feel good.

Eventually, the sobs started to abate, and my mood started to lift a little. He was so soothing, so loving, so gentle. I started to talk about feeling vulnerable, about how whenever I fuck, I always need to come back to him, no matter how much I love the sex, the orgasms, the filling, eventually I always need to come back to him, and I said that on that day, I needed him to reclaim me, to take me as his again, to own my body and my soul, to own all my holes. I needed to feel him want me. I needed to feel him possess me.

I needed to have his cock in my mouth, I needed to have his cock in my cunt and in my ass, I needed to have him to cum inside me, both cunt and ass, and I knew I wasn’t emotionally ready to cum myself, I just needed to feel his throbbing cock, feel his sticky juices, feel his love, feel his ownership. I’m his sub after all, and I know its wonderful he lends me out, and just how much I get emotionally and physically from this life I lead, but sometimes, I just need him.

He said of course, and that I deserved to be reclaimed for how wonderful I had been, and rolled me onto my back, knelt with his knees under my armpits, put another couple of pillows under my head and told me to use his cock as a dummy, as a pacifier, and I did, for so so long. Just having his cock in my mouth while he was lovingly stroking my hair was wonderful. He wasn’t face fucking me, and I was barely sucking him, what I needed was just having his cock in my mouth, I just needed the connection I got from it. It was so emotional, and I teared up again, but his hair strokes and a mouth filled with his cock soothed me.

I have no idea how long we stayed like that. A long time. “As long as I needed”. When I was ready, I opened my mouth and he pulled back a little, and with love in my eyes, I told him to face fuck me, gently, not to cum, just to reclaim my mouth. And he did so perfectly. This man who usually slams hard, who deep throats me, who makes me choke and gag on his thick hard cock was so gentle, and yet I felt it, emotionally, my mouth was his again. I think he sensed it, because he pulled out and asked if I wanted him to reclaim my cunt. I smiled. I nodded. He stroked my hair, then shuffled down the bed, spread my legs (which felt very symbolic on that day) and pressed his fairly hard cock into my cunt lips, slipping it up and down until his glans slipped between them. And then he pushed in, slowly, even pressure, until he was all the way in. He kissed me as he started to thrust in and out, him clearly being careful to not make me cum, as I said I needed. A nice even firm but gentle fuck. Filling then emptying, emotion flooding back into me as the good hormones took over, and it was then that I told him to fuck me hard, but reminded him I still wasn’t ready to cum. And he did, hard slams from a hard cock, taking my breath away, but him very carefully not rubbing where he would need to. The switch was astounding, his fuck perfect, and he came, hard, deep, every spurt re-emphasising his ownership of my cunt, of me.

He went soft, and began spooning me again, gently saying how he had reclaimed two of my holes and the last one would be his again soon. I smiled, I snuggled back into him, and I reached behind me to his soft cock, rubbing it with my hands, looping fingers round it, slowly bringing it back to life.

He ignored my cock workings and started soothingly talking to me again, saying all the wonderful feel good stuff. Normally he calls me a slut, today he called me perfect. Although, they aren’t mutually exclusive.

When I let go of his cock, after I’d worked it back to hardness, he rolled me onto my front, put a pillow under my stomach and he lubed my asshole, a thorough, intimate lubing, delicate, yet effective, and then he pushed his glans to my pucker, and my asshole sucked him in, it wanted him, at this point, it needed him, it was like my whole body was desperate for him, and he pushed inside, filling me, and then he snuggled behind me, cocooning my body whilst he filled my asshole. He didn’t move his cock for a while, letting me feel internally and externally snuggled. It felt wonderful, his cock inside me really emphasising the cocooning.

And when he sensed I was ready, he started fucking, slow, deliberate, glans right to my asshole, then right back in again, full lengths, getting harder and harder. As it would be his second cumming of the hour, he would take a long time, my asshole would have to take a long fucking. And it did, with him eventually cumming again, loads of warm soft sticky cum. His cock went soft and he snuggled behind me again, his soft cock still in my asshole, and we stayed there for a while.

After his cock eventually popped out of my asshole, I told him I felt I was ready to cum, and I wondered if Sara would lick me to orgasm. We left the room, him holding me up as we walked, and my husband explained my sub drop and asked Sara if she’d lick me out. Of course she would, it’s what friends are for and she immediately sat me down on the sofa, put my feet each on a dining room chair, got between my legs and started licking. Gentle, loving, and I told her my husband and hers would spit roast her after I’d cum, spit roasts being her favourite thing in the world, and her husband asked mine if mine would spank her as well, that he thought she needed a good proper hard spanking.

Sara’s rhythm didn’t alter a jot whilst they were talking about fucking and spanking her, although she did speed up when I added that I thought she deserved a serious spanking, not a play one.

The long slow build up to orgasm was pulling me out of the last bit of my sub drop, and by the time I orgasmed, I was fine. I’d be used later in the day, I’d be spit roasted, and I probably wouldn’t need any aftercare. But when I needed it the most, it was there.

Some people obsess about aftercare, and if you need it, then you must get it. But I don’t normally, and I don’t want it forced on me when I don’t need it, but when I do need it, I need it urgently, desperately.

What started as a catastrophic sub drop ended up as perfect aftercare. And that made me ready to go at it again, to get my own spit roast, to get my own spanking and to cum and cum. It was so important he got my aftercare right, and he so so did. I’m so lucky.

It was also noticeable that my husband had been increasingly needing aftercare for his Pegtember thirty consecutive day peggings, and giving him aftercare is even rarer than giving it to me. He had the sloppy pucker lickings the morning after every pegging, but increasingly, he needed emotional aftercare on the evening of the pegging itself, cuddles, lovely things being said, sweet comments from the women involved. I don’t know if the women’s clothes, the feminisation, has had an effect on him, but emotionally, he needed almost daily support towards the end of the challenge, and the other women and I were only to pleased to give him that support. His need for emotional aftercare made his feminisation totally real to me, and I have realised that this isn’t a game, and also that he is emotionally happy in a partial girl mode, but in need of support and reassurance. I think the switching between dominant man and subservient girl mode drained him, something I didn’t expect. As I said at the start of Pegtember, the feminisation, the girl mode, was an experiment, and I still don’t know where it is heading.

But clearly in girl mode, he needs aftercare, and clearly if I’m physically and emotionally broken, so do I. Neither of us normally need it, but when we do, it is very very important.