Anal Training, But Dirty

"Daddy, wait. I haven't cleaned back there."

You are answered only by the click of the lube cap. I know you haven't cleaned. I know everything about this hole. And I know to send you off with a bulb of water before we do it like this.

That was, until a week ago.

We were together in bed, with you on your back. My eyes were shut tight in concentration, feeling you milk the length of me with your tightest hole.

"My asshole is so full of your cock," you said as if in disbelief. "So full of your cock. You love it, don't you Daddy? You love being so deep inside me."

I held your head in my hands and took you deep and steady as I replied. "It's so hot. When we do this I can't stop thinking about where my cock is. This dirty place, so far inside you, that I get to feel with my cock... this place... that you can't even touch."

"You like me even where I'm dirty, Daddy? You mean it?"

"That's where I like you best."

We loved talking like this: feeding off each other, testing each other, pushing each other to say things we both understand but are afraid to admit.

My thrusts grew urgent; we were getting close, so close, and I pinned your hands above your head with my own as I took us there. I whispered in your ear. "Baby, I need to tell you something dirty."

"Tell me, please. Tell me!"

I said it, mid-thrust, and your eyes widened with fear and your breath caught in your throat.

"Baby... I don't want you to clean before anal anymore."

You squealed, and you came hard, and wet, and breathless underneath me. Your little hole clamped down around me. Even when your mind can't find the words, your asshole always speaks clearly. It felt like your aftershocks would never cease. I rolled us off the wet spot on the sheets and kept you warm in my arms.

Anal had become a steady ritual for us. Even before you took my cock, you'd be flushed out, eaten out, and massaged all over--just to get your smallest plug in. You were so sweet and so eager to please. But progress comes slow. I taught you to take it, and then to crave it, and then to feel an aching void in your soul without it. It's no wonder you started rinsing out your bottom before we had sex, just in case we wanted to do more. In those early days in particular, cleaning yourself out was a kind of control. It made you feel safe. But now I wanted to know your ass completely. I wanted you to feel safe in a new way: by trusting me.

I held you close and asked you how you felt about it. You asked me, again, what would happen if things got messy. I told you how I would take care of it, how it was my responsibility. You asked me how I could still be attracted to you if that happened. I told you I would be even more bonded to you for letting me feel your body in its true nature. You were quiet, and then you said you were ready. I asked for you to give me a week, and told you that I would choose, spontaneously, the day--unless you safe-worded out of it.

After a couple days, we were back in our usual headspace. Work, tennis, dinner with my cousins. Work, pick up your aunt from the airport, date night downtown. Some days with time for play, some with time for rest. This afternoon was, mostly, rest--you were left alone to read Yesteryear with some hot tea and biscuits at the bedside. Perhaps that left you amenable to my touch when I interrupted you, my fingers diving under your panties to play between your folds. Your holes were hungry for loving. With my finger softly circling your clit, and my tongue prodding your asshole, it didn't take long for you to come.

It wasn't until the tip of my cock found your little star that you realized where this was going. You hadn't showered. You hadn't emptied. You turned back to look at me. Your voice wavered, your pussy dripped with anticipation. You told me, like a final disclaimer, that you hadn't cleaned. And then your uncertain gaze met my firm resolve, and you knew: that's why this is happening right now. It's happening because you haven't cleaned.

You are here with me, in this moment, bent over, vulnerable. I need to know what my baby feels like right now, deep inside of her. You need to know what it feels like, too.

So I push.

I've taught you to be my whore, and when your asshole lets me in, I hear pure unfiltered whore in your voice. You feel my cock swell inside of you, the blood rushing into it. No one has ever gotten me this hard. No one has ever felt this good around my cock.

And has it ever felt this hot inside you? This full?

I bury myself to the balls and wait until you relax completely, then pull back, marveling at the way your sensitive sphincter tightens when I move unexpectedly.

"Look at how you're taking me right now. You have come so far, and I am so in awe of you."

You hum with pleasure and turn your head back again. I lean down for a kiss before continuing to fuck you.

When we started having anal, you were afraid of pain. Instead you found pleasure.

You were afraid of humiliation. Instead you felt worshipped.

You were afraid of losing control, but what you lost in control, you gained in confidence.

And now I am asking you to surrender again.

"Who trained this asshole?" I ask as I pull out of you. We both hear your hole gasp with air around the tip of my cock.

"You did, Daddy." I push again. You moan.

"Who loves this asshole?"

"You do, Daddy." I thrust again, several times.

"Who knows what this asshole needs?"

"You do, Daddy." I fuck you and your face flushes hot as you feel me build towards my conclusion.

I rest my thighs against yours. I am poised like a battering ram--heavy, dangerous. You hear me through gritted teeth:

"And who takes care of this nasty little fuckhole, when he's finished using it, in Every. Single. Way?"

You arch your back and squeeze your words out. "... You! Daddy!"

My hips hammer into you, and your scream is loud and endless, falling in pitch as it carries on and on. My hand finds your throat and my lips press against your temple. Your asshole has given up--it is relieved of the responsibility to think, to discern, to control, its only purpose now is to melt at my touch and take the pleasure I bring it.

I rise and grip each cheek of your ass firmly from the side. "I need you. I need you. It's never felt like this. I... fuck. I like when it feels like this."

"Fuck me," you plead. "I want you to feel everything with your cock. It's all yours. Don't stop."

Your asshole has loosened around me, and your insides are ready to meet my thrusts. I hold your body tight in my hands and I pound you like a rag doll. The tip of my cock dips into your colon and I feel the texture of your guts change as I explore you here.

You haven't felt this unclean since the first time my cock pushed into your ass. And yet my desire burns you up from the inside, it pierces you with rock-solid proof that everything about you is sexy to me. The more real and raw you are, the more I want you.

I will always want you. Nothing can change that.

A deep and mistimed thrust puts my cock out of your asshole and a giant pocket of air leaves you violently, sputtering on its way out. "Yes. Good girl!" I talk like I'm responding to it, then plow into you without missing a beat.

Your can't feel embarrassment when you're this deep in heat. You can hardly think when my cock is in your ass. Maybe that's how you've come this far. You know what you're becoming, with me, and as we rut like animals, you want to tell me.

"I'm your anal whore!"

I moan. This is the second time you've said it. My fingers dig into your hips as I pump harder.

"My anal whore. Always," I assert in reply.

The more corrupted we become, the less you hold back. It's not just your asshole that I have trained. Even your mouth no longer conceals the words that smolder inside you.

Daddy wants what's inside you.

All of what's inside you.

The pretty and the ugly.

You don't get to hide.

That's what anal means.

You don't hide who you are from me.

You rub your clit and buck your hips. You come--panting, jerking, moaning, ugly-crying. I slow down to savor the contractions in your asshole. When I speed up, you know I'm not far behind. I release and I groan like a man in agony. When I'm coming this hard with you, the pleasure is indistinguishable from pain.

After we are spent I close around you again, my hands locking into yours from behind and pinning them again to the bed. When I pull out of your helpless body, your asshole gurgles with air and globs of cum. You can't see it, but you are afraid that this cum is filthy. It sounds filthy.

I sit up and spread your ass cheeks wide.

You know what's coming, now, and you tense again. "Be brave. I love you." You can feel my gaze from behind, intent on your squelching, worn out asshole, looking inside you with wonder and awe and lust.

"I love you," you whisper back, nervous and cum-drunk.

A part of you is dying. How will you do this? How will you survive returning my cum from the depths of your dirty rectum?

But even as you think it, you know that you will.

You will because Daddy will reassure you.

And he will help you get used to it.

And he will take responsibility for it--the good and the bad.

And it will feel dirty. But dirty, with Daddy, always feels incredible.

I spread you, and my voice is low and firm when I say it.

"Push."

You close your eyes. Here is where you are safest--underneath your Daddy. He wants the things that nobody else gets to see. He is yours and you are his. You can do this. You can be his dirty little anal slut.

You hold your breath. Your asshole opens.

Whatever comes, your Daddy is going to take care of you.

You push.