My little anal slut

August 3

Face down, naked on the massage table, your body already gleaming under the low light, I let my eyes devour you before I even lay a hand on your skin. You look perfect there—obedient, docile, already sinking into the submission that pulses in you like a heartbeat. You earned this. You’ve been my good girl. And now I’m going to reward you… in my own way.

I start slow—deliberate. My hands press into your shoulders, firm and methodical, like I’m unraveling you one knot at a time. I oil your back with smooth, hot strokes, watching as your muscles relax under my touch. I know exactly how to work you—how to drag tension from your body and replace it with heat. My thumbs dig into your shoulder blades, down your spine, then out along the edges of your ribs, pressing until every touch, every massage with my body is pure pleasure.

Your breathing slows. That little moan you let out when I grind into the base of your neck? That’s what I’m after. My fingers curl under the back of your skull, gently pulling upward to release the tension deep in your neck. You melt under me, letting me manipulate you like a doll. My fingers drift to your temples, the hinge of your jaw. I’m not just massaging you. I’m disarming you. Dismantling your thoughts. Making room for my control to seep in deeper.

I work down your arms next, taking your hands in mine, massaging between each finger. Your palms twitch when I hit the right spot. You’re trying not to squirm. I love that. The restraint. The need to behave for me.

Then I move to your feet—because even those deserve my attention. I work the arches, the heels, pop each toe one at a time while you sigh into the table, *** and utterly exposed. I circle the balls of your ankles, working slowly up your calves, kneading into those tender spots just behind the knees. You shiver. Your body knows what’s coming before your mind does.

When I reach your thighs, I slow down even more. My hands glide up and down—firm, confident strokes—squeezing, teasing, threatening. I ghost over that soaked little pussy again and again, not giving you anything but suggestion. You squirm. I smirk . “So needy already,” I whisper. “But I decide when you’re ready.”

My thumbs dig into the tension buried deep in your glutes, working higher, back to your hips. I tease the creases where your thighs meet your ass, brushing so close to your pussy you whimper. I ignore it. You don’t get what you want just because you make noise. You get it when I say so.

I flip you over—rough, possessive, but still gentle at the same time—and your eyes meet mine. Glassy, dazed, desperate. Perfect. I cradle your head and start again—my hands working your neck, your collarbone, then over your chest. I take my time with your tits. I cup them, massage them, pinch your nipples gently with my lube soaked hands until your hips twitch on the table. I lean in close and whisper in your ear, “You look so good stretched out like this for me. Every inch of you mine. Every muscle waiting for my touch. I’m going to ruin you in the most beautiful way.”
I roll your nipples between my slick fingers, tug them just hard enough to make you gasp, and then trail down your stomach. I kneel between your thighs, drag my thumbs down the insides, spreading you open with a smirk. “You’re soaked,” I say. “And I haven’t even gotten serious yet.”

I slide my fingers over that wet little pussy, slow and firm. Circling your clit. Watching you writhe. Then, when you least expect it, I slide one finger deep. Your breath hitches. Another joins. I curl them just right. You start to fall apart—already—and I’m just getting started.

I lean in, sucking a nipple into my mouth while I finger you deep, slow, grinding against the sweet spot over and over. You moan like you’re ready to cum already, and I smirk again. “Oh no, baby girl. We’re just getting started.”

And then I do what you’ve been begging for without saying a word. I slide my cock into you, slow and thick, until I’m buried balls deep in your pussy. You moan like I’ve just unlocked something in your soul. I hold your thighs back and thrust deep in slow, punishing strokes. Watching your face. Watching you crumble.
“Look at you,” I growl. “Getting fucked like the little toy you are. Taking Daddy’s cock like you were made for it.”

I keep fucking you, now hard and deep, grinding my hips just right until I see you start to shake. You can’t help but to cum all over daddy’s cock again, my little cumming machine. I grab you by your ass, and lift you up off the table—your legs wrapped around my waist, my cock still buried in you.

I carry you to the wall, slam your back against it, and drive back into you without missing a beat. I fuck you against the wall like an ***—your body bouncing, your moans echoing, your nails digging into my shoulders as I fuck you so hard your voice catches in your throat.
“You belong to me,” I growl in your ear, each word punctuated by another savage thrust. “Say it.”

“I belong to you, Daddy”, you gasp, barely able to speak.

Your body breaks open around me, squeezing, pulsing, begging for release and you explode all over my cock again. I can feel your cum dripping off my balls. My testosterone is oozing out for you and I can’t get enough. But I’m not done. Not even close.

I carry you back and strap you down—wrists to the sides of the table, ankles wide. You’re mine now. Cuffed, exposed, ***. I slide a vibrating plug into that tight little ass hole and then I press the motor bunny between your thighs, slide it inside you, and turn it on low.

You jolt.

You feel so full and so stretched don’t you my little slut?

Then I slide my cock into your mouth—thick, hard, soaked with your own need—and I start to fuck your throat, slow at first, then faster. Your body jerks as the toy starts grinding inside you. Your moans are muffled by my cock, your eyes rolling back as you fight to take it all. I hold your head still. “Take it,” I command. “You were made for this.”

I tease the controls, turning the toy up bit by bit. Your body writhes, twitching, screaming for release, but I don’t let you go. I fuck your mouth harder, deeper, until your throat tightens around me.

You cum once.

Twice.

By the third orgasm, you're sobbing around my cock, and I finally let go—shooting deep into your mouth, watching your throat move as you swallow. But I’m not soft. Not even close. You’ve wrecked yourself for me, and I still want more.

I pull the paddle out, flip you onto your knees, and slide back into your pussy—dripping, stretched, greedy. I fuck you hard from behind, spanking you until your ass glows. I slap your thighs, grip your waist, and drive in until your voice breaks into a scream.

I paddle you harder.

Faster.

Until you’re gasping and shaking, your body collapsing under the weight of your own pleasure.

But I don’t stop.

I flatten you into prone bone, pressing you into the table with my weight as I fuck you deep and slow, dragging my cock in and out while my hands spread your cheeks, stretching your pussy wider.

I flip you over, slow and controlled, your body already soft and pliant from everything I’ve put you through. You know what’s coming next—and you want it. Your favorite. I grip the base of the plug resting in your ass and ease it out, inch by inch, watching the way your breath catches, the way your back arches with anticipation. You’re wide open, trembling, your little ass hole gaped open slightly from the plug, aching to be filled again—only this time, by me.

I press the thick head of my cock against that perfect little hole and pause, letting the pressure settle in, letting you feel the weight of what’s about to stretch you open. I whisper in your ear, “You know you were made for this, don’t you, baby girl?” And as you nod, gasping, I push forward, slow and steady, giving you every inch of me.

Your moan is everything—part ***, part pleasure, all surrender. I feel your body adjust, that tight little hole hugging my cock like it never wants to let go. I reach for the wand and press it to your clit, letting the vibrations pulse through you while I begin to move—deep, controlled strokes that make your whole body come alive. You’re already close, aren’t you? I can feel it. The way your hips roll, the way you beg for more with your eyes, your body, the way you moan my name like a prayer.

I lean down, lips brushing your ear, and tell you just how perfect you are like this. Stuffed full of Daddy, stretched tight around me, your clit screaming under the pressure of the toy. “This is what you crave, isn’t it? This is what you need. To be filled, to be used, to be mine.”

You’re shaking now, gripping the table, the edge of control slipping away with every thrust. I go deeper, a little harder, the wand pressed tight against your clit as I fuck your ass slow and filthy, building the rhythm until you’re falling apart, exploding under me. Your cries fill the room, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm, and I don’t stop. I keep you right there, riding that edge again and again, watching you unravel.

And when I finally feel that tight little hole start to milk my cock, when your body trembles from the sheer overstimulation and you’re begging for Daddy’s cum… I give it to you. Deep, hot, filling your ass full of my thick warm cum. You cum one last time just from the satisfaction of being filled by my cum. You moan as I hold you there, every inch of me buried in your ass, your body twitching, your mind floating.

And you smile, because you know what you are—Daddy’s perfect little anal slut.

And I’m not done with you yet. But you earned this moment, and now I’ll clean you up, wrap you in my arms, and let you rest in the place where you’re always safe—right here, with me.