Author Topic: Aftercare: The secret ingredient in successful consensual/non consensual play  (Read 589 times)

Offline Valleyvixin
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Why am I a Slave?

What makes a proud, independent, successful, financially secure, attractive woman know herself forever and unquestionably to be the property of another woman.  Not a person, a thing, an object.  At best, a pet.  What gives my owner the right to take me when I am begging no, when she must bind and gag me to stifle my cries?  Not a rhetorical question, it has an answer.

The answer I can supply cheerfully.  Aftercare.

I had a playmate, a young strong would be top who was almost in tears when no matter how he worked all the tools, postures, props, he remained only a time killing amusement that I dropped at the run when My Lady beckoned.  She doesn’t pretend to exclusive relationship.  She doesn’t pretend she is committing to me for ever and always.  She is using me for a time for as long as it is good for both of us.  She uses others.  She isn’t even always a top at all.

The boy dominant, and any number of blustery tops of both genders have demanded to know just what it is that she gives that is so (blankity blank blanking) special.  There is an answer.  Aftercare.

For most dominants, after care consists of “You okay?  Was it good for you?”  Which is about what you expect for foreplay from bad lovers, and about the same effect on the submissive as that level of foreplay.

Good dominants check in again after you come down from the scene, see if you are still fine.  The answers often can change, as when the scene fades you are suddenly not so comfortable with some of what went on, even if you haven’t got the words really to explain why.

Rightful owners, wow is that a pretentious term.  If you ever use it, you aren’t one, and probably never could be one.  I use it.  I use it for those who were born to own slaves, who were born so that other human beings would have an object of earthly worship to whom they could surrender completely and not be made lesser.  Rightful owners do aftercare a little bit differently.

Rightful owners stay with you after the scene.  They talk about how you reacted during the scene.  They share their own reactions about the scene.  They draw you out into discussing what gave it power.  They draw you out into discussing your reactions, because you can’t draw boundaries about things that you are scared of if you never knew they existed.

Rightful owners pry.  They understand that if you are really powerfully moved by a scene you may lie.  OK, time to stop hiding behind the third person.  My Lady understands that I am a slut who will hide her bruises and her blood, who will hide her pain if I enjoyed the power of the scene, even if we had agreed upon boundaries and the damage done to me meant that we strayed across them.

I was willing to overlook crossing the lines.  A rightful owner won’t do that.  A rightful owner understands that your surrender to them makes them responsible for your care, and that among the rights you surrender to them is the right to WAIVE YOUR OWN SAFETY.

That is right!  She understood that when she grabs me by the cunt I can’t think and I can’t say no.  I won’t say no.  As a result she undertakes to make sure that in situations where I might be tempted to swallow a no, to hesitate to use a safe word, or to let slide something that actually caused me harm she will during the after care make sure to find each and every occurrence and drag it into the light for discussion.

I don’t have the right not to be safe with her, because any damage to my body or mind is her responsibility. An abuser uses a submissive, a dominant undertakes the care of the submissive they use, and a rightful owner holds themselves responsible for the safety, mental and emotional health as well as fulfillment of their submissive without any deflections, excuses, or understanding for failures of communication.

You want to know why I am her property?  Aftercare.  She is so brutally uncompromising with herself about my safety I want to go to my belly before her and beg to wear her brand.  I have never taken half the care of me that she does with whip in her hand.  She deserves to own me, and I fear I will never serve her well enough to have half earned the privilege of being her property.
I was the good girl your mother wanted, or wanted you to marry.  My sex drive grew while I began to question who I was being good for.  Now here we are.  Red hair, real curves, and a real life I have zero intention of messing up.