Fifty Shades of Domination - My True Story by Mistress Miranda Read Free Book Online Page B

that he was offered a grammar school place as a child but his parents had to turn it down because they couldn’t afford the school uniform.
Much though I loved him, I cannot deny that among all of his good traits of forbearance and honesty, he did have a couple of faults. He could not let any argument end, other than on his terms. When we argued – as we did more frequently over the years – he would listen until I had finished every possible argument… and then jump in one last time with a little jibe in order that he had could be sure he had had the last word. He was also an obsessive hoarder, possibly frombeing short of material of all kinds in the post-war period. My favourite item among the treasure trove of junk which sat untouched for years in his garden shed was a wooden dining room chair with only three legs.
‘Why on earth are you keeping that chair?’ my nan would demand.
‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ he would retort. ‘All you need do is stick a piece of wood on to replace that leg and it’ll be as good as new.’
‘But you’re never going to do that, are you?’
‘Maybe not… but I just might.’
He and my grandmother thought the world of each other and there was a joy about growing up in a household where so much love was in the air. They were never openly affectionate towards each other – the idea of kissing in public would have shocked them to the core – but after a drink or two he would sneak a sly cuddle, only to be told: ‘Johnny stop it right now, the children are watching.’ Children were very important to my grandmother. In addition to loving me she would care for other children after school, earning a tiny extra bit of money to supplement the pittance she earned working part-time as a school dinner-lady. That income was the only money coming into the house, although I presume that there was some kind of sickness benefit payment for my grandfather and that their ‘real’ daughter, my birth-mother Eileen, and her husband helped out financially on a regular basis.
Beyond money, there was one legacy which my grandfather passed to me while I was still in junior school and which has had a value greater than anything else in my later life: hetaught me to stand up for myself, to be independent and strong and not let anybody push me around.
Those were valuable assets, I’m sure you’ll agree, for anyone planning to become a dominatrix.

CHAPTER 6
SEXUAL AWAKENING
I t was the chilly touch of colder air on the skin of my bare legs that aroused me from the depths of my early-hours-of-the-morning sleep. Then just 11 years old, I could sleep for England, and so I was still barely conscious as I felt the weight of the bedcovers slowly lift from my thighs. I was certain, at first, I was dreaming; albeit a somewhat sexual dream for such a little girl. Perhaps the then love of my life, Tom Cruise, had decided to pop in to the bedroom and make all my prepubescent dreams come true? The Hollywood actor was much on my mind at that age. I was enjoying a sleepover at a schoolfriend’s house and we had been giggling all evening about how much we would all love to kiss him. As I came fully awake, however, I realised that someone – most certainly not the infinitely desirable Mr Cruise – was gradually drawing the sheets off my half-naked body. I shot bolt upright in bed,barely stifled a scream and came face to face in the dark of the bedroom with my friend’s father, crouching at the end of the bed and peering intently down at the schoolgirl white pants which were pretty much all that now covered my body. Chaos was about to ensue.
The year was 1985 and the evening had started as one of the most giggly, fun times I had enjoyed for a while. In the long summer holidays I had agreed to go and stay at a friend’s house for a sleepover party with two other girls. None of us were yet at an age to be sexually active but all of us were besotted with celebrity idols in a way that only young girls can