Subdrop.
The low after the high.
The ruthless nemesis of the Flutterby.

Basically put, subdrop is a phenomena which occurs in the hours/days after a scene where the endorphin high experienced during play wears off. The problem with trying to quantify it is that it’s an individual experience, and affects everyone differently. Some don’t experience it at all, some crash with a vengeance. I can only relate my own experiences.

The highs Sir gives me are incredible. Looking, now, at the marks which currently adorn my skin, I smile and sigh, remembering how each one came about, remembering the phenomenal rush, how I was completely lost to the sensations. But after the high, there is a gravitational pull on both a psychological and physiological basis. What goes up simply must come down, right?

I have been known to plummet, spectacularly, enduring lethargy and disinterest in the goings on happening around me, purposefully cutting myself off from Sir on an emotional level, stubbornly refusing to communicate the fact that I was experiencing drop, feeling angry and resentful. Why? I can’t answer that. Irrationality tends to be my close companion during those times. Trying to analyse it simply leads me further down into the abyss.

This time the drop was more gradual, like being lowered slowly onto a bed of nails. You know it’s going to hurt, but you’re more able to prepare for it. Sitting here now, composing this post, I feel incredibly tired, and tears aren’t very far away. But I know it’s simply the emotional release after the event, and I embrace it. Instead of fighting the tears, I allow them to fall. Instead of lashing out(quite as much), I express the fact that I’m struggling, and receive the comfort and reassurance I need. I trace the lines of the scratches on my skin and remember the exchange, and it helps me to still feel connected to him. This softens the impact of the drop significantly…..this time.

The fact remains that I like it when He hurts me.
I’m both a pain, and an endorphin junkie, it’s my drug of choice, and I accept that it has to be paid for in one way or another.

I despise it, but I accept it.
It’s the price one has to pay for playing as close to the edge as we sometimes do.