Two Words By Axelle

Two Words by Axelle Paramour

You found the secret without my pushing and gentle guidance, you’ve no idea the power of the words, how when you said them I was instantly there and had cum. I had never trusted anyone enough to share the secret, to let them in on the words that would send me over the edge. My fingertips playing between my lips, rubbing my wet throbbing clit, I know I want you to say them again. The problem is the words scare me, they work on me like heroin might work on an addict. I don’t hear them often when referring to me, perhaps this is why I crave them in this context. I want to hear them, I need to hear them from you. The sane part of me digs her heels in and holds on to this bit of strength I have. These words release me and leave me powerless, and even though I‘m scared of being powerless I yearn for this place.

I tell you, you’ve found one of my boxes, that you’ve checked something off my kink list. What I don’t tell you is that this has to be the biggest one when it comes to my submissive nature. You ask what it was, and I resist. I can’t give in so easy. You come to the conclusion it was something you said and the game is on. I’m touching myself and sinking deeper into the lust as you muse at what it was exactly that you said. I can hear the grin in your words as you tell me I won’t be allowed to cum if you don’t find out and you ask for a little hint. “No.”, I had never uttered the word to you in a serious way and I knew by saying this you would understand the weight of what I was telling you without speaking. You run the gamut of the things you whisper to me, the words being so simple they are often over looked. I can feel the need to cum creep in then, after torturing myself for so long. I consider cumming anyway and dealing with the consequences later, but you set a rule and I find myself unable to break it. My head is spinning my need for release ruling out my will. I can hear the first word escaping as I fight against myself trying to cover the secret and bury it back down, but it’s too late and the word hangs there.

I’m not with you but I can imagine the realization pass over your face, the slight surprise at the simplicity that is my heroin. I can hear the words before you say them, the slow build from deep within your throat. The first word spoken like a playful kitten, all love and lust; the other wanton, and staking a claim. When you say it I feel the words like you’ve touched me, you can’t see me but the way my body reacts is ridiculous; my free hand is clawing at my sheets and my feet are pushing at the bed trying to find traction as I writhe against my hand.

You play with them, arranging them this way and that, changing your pronunciation and intonation trying this power you now hold on for size. I can hear myself and how with each wield of them I’m being sent deeper and deeper down inside myself, the cumming giving way to subspace. I’ve fallen through glass, the pain being pleasure now. I see the tiny shards around me frozen and immobile, my entire existence and knowledge laid before me, no where and everywhere at once. This place is like an embrace and is still like your own home before the world is awake. I’m filled with a sadness, the tears slipping from my eyes not enough to explain the woe that fills me. It doesn’t seem fair that you can’t be here too in this place. But then you are, you whisper to me the words and this time they aren’t a tease but a caress.