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“Exactly.”
“And what about the last room? What goes on in there?”
“That’s going to be for aftercare.”
“What’s that?” Before Toby could reply, Butch held his hand up. “Forget I asked. You don’t have to tell me a damn thing.”
Toby smiled. “What if I want to?”
“And what if what you tell me squicks me out?”
Toby frowned. “What the fuck is ‘squick’?”
Butch shrugged. “You know, like gross.”
“Then why can’t you just say gross?”
Butch grinned. “Because squick sounds so much cooler.”
Toby rolled his eyes. “Whatever. All you need to know is I won’t tell you anything that could make you feel uncomfortable, okay? Give me some credit?”
Butch nodded. “Okay.” He hadn’t known Toby all that long, but he got a sense the guy was solid.
The boss wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t.And Butch trusted the boss’s judgment.
“All right then. Aftercare is important. BDSM brings with it a rush of endorphins and adrenaline, so when a scene ends, all the intensity felt by both participants tends to plummet. Aftercare helps combat that feeling. We call it ‘drop’ and both submissives and Doms experience it.” He peered at Butch. “Do you know what those terms refer to?”
Butch huffed. “I can guess what a submissive is, just by the word, so a Dom must be the other half of the equation.”
Toby beamed. “That’s right. On a practical level, if a sub’s been in cuffs, the Dom will check to see if skin needs to be soothed, you know, medical stuff. There’ll be water to drink, to rehydrate, soothing cream to apply. But aftercare also involves cuddling, kissing, positive affirmations… It allows both partners to talk openly about what they just experienced. Sometimes it’s easy to get lost in a scene. Aftercare is a way of helping us to reconnect, recharge, regain composure…”
“You mean, you get to talk about your feelings?”
Toby nodded.
Butch took off his hat and scraped his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be honest, I had no idea. I mean, I watch TV, I see pictures online. They show a bunch of guys in leather, guys being led around on a leash… Hell, I saw a guy once with a hood on that made him look like a dog.” He sat the hat back on his head, a comforting weight.
Toby laughed. “It’s called puppy play, and you might see a few such guys here.”
Butch blinked. “That’s a thing?”
“Oh yeah. And again, it’s about trust and giving up control but on a different level. But back to your pain assumption. The only thing you need to remember is everything that happens here is done with mutual consent. That’s one rule no one is going to break.”
Race’s voice was right there.
“What was missing was one thing—consent. I don’t take something without asking, and I don’t take advantage of guys—or girls.”
Butch had given his consent, and Race had been an excellent teacher. One particular lesson, however, had taught him the importance of being the one in control, a lesson he had never forgotten.
A cough broke the silence that had fallen. Teague stood in the doorway.
“Do you need me?” Toby asked.
“Actually, I was looking for Butch.” Teague held a sheet of paper. “I’ve got the list of guests arriving Saturday.”
Butch switched into bunkhouse manager mode. “How many?”
“Five.” Teague proffered the list. “All guys, so we can maybe get away with all of them on the first floor.”
