The voice he obeys
When my husband comes on my breasts, or anywhere I direct him, I use my voice.
I use my voice.
Not to entertain him.
Not to please him.
Not to “drive him wild.”
I use my voice because it enters him.
In the moment of orgasm and release a man’s rational brain switches off.
The part of him that thinks is gone.
What’s left is raw input.
Sound enters directly.
Sound bypasses resistance.
Sound imprints.
This is not seduction.
This is architecture.
What I say
I do not whisper nonsense.
I do not perform.
I use words that claim him. Words that place him.