Little Book of Fantasies by Miranda Heart Read Free Book Online Page B

her pushup bra.
    “I love these bras you wear. They display your breasts like a table. I’ll have to eat a piece of that chocolate pie you make so well off here one night.”
    She smiled, but said nothing.
    “When you’re given a compliment, it’s customary to say, ‘Thank you, Sir.’”
    She cleared her throat and blushed. “Thank you, Sir.” Her voice was hoarse even to her own ears. Her breath shallow.
    “Pull your bra down and offer your breasts to me.”
    Without hesitation, she reached for the demi-cup edges and pulled them down until the cold air caressed her nipples rock hard. As if to make her offering more complete, she thrust her breasts out towards him.
    “Hands behind your back.”
    She complied.
    “You offer your breasts to me in invitation, to do whatever it is I want to do to them. This is implied, but whatever boundaries you set would be followed explicitly.”
    He reached forward and cupped her breasts, his thumbs stroked softly over their sensitive tips. “You see, you never start off rough. You raise the body temperature. Raise the breathing. You’ll feel yourself sort of floating after a while.”
    She took a deep breath. Everything he said slowly happened, one degree at a time. She felt dizzy, weak, her mind fuzzy. He withdrew his hand, and when he touched her again, his fingers were wet. He squeezed just enough to lull her into a sense of security and rolled them ever so gently between his fingertips.
    “You see, the torture could be almost anything. I could command you not to come. I could make you come until you beg me to stop.” He squeezed a little harder. “Or the torture could simply be something wonderful and beautiful.”
    Her breathing became shallow as she concentrated on his words. She rocked back on her knees. Not once did he let go, pulling her by her nipples until she was forced to follow his movements. She heard him slide off the couch and sit in front of her. “Sit back on your heels. It will be difficult for your first time.”
    She trembled as she did as he said.
    “Spread your thighs.”
    She did. Her skirt bunched at her hips opened an entirely different feeling. She was vulnerable to him now. He had access to her.
    “How does it feel?”
    “Amazing. I’ve never been so light-headed.” She kept her eyes closed. Her hands had stopped twisting behind her back.
    Without warning, he pinched her nipples, just a little until she winced. The pinch stopped, her pussy drooled, and she shuddered. So close to orgasm.
    “For now, you can come as much as you want. But know, as you start to come, the pain will increase.”
    She nodded. Thus far, what he described as pain was nothing more than a prick of pleasure. He quieted and manipulated her hard nipple—he twisted, pulled, rubbed his thumb over the raw flesh. Her breathing escalated. Blackness settled over her where she felt everything, but nothing hurt. She didn’t know what it was. She tried to fight it, shook her head.
    “Don’t fight it. It’s subspace—the place where pain and pleasure meld together. The place where there will only be you and I.”
    He held tighter to her nipples until she whimpered in pleasure and thrust her breasts out farther. She panted now, barely felt her body being moved to straddle his lap. The pressure of the head of his cock pushed towards her entrance, passed through her tight barrier, and she fully sheathed him. He gave one hard twist to her nipple, and her world exploded. She rocked against him, bounced on his lap so hard and fast that, before she had an idea of what was going on, his hot cum spurted inside of her, sending her over the edge again. She couldn’t hold herself upright, and he caught her against his chest, his arms encircling her back.
    She continued to ride him, her nipples aching from his so-called torture. She trembled in his arms, suddenly cold, as reality settled back in.
    “Beautiful, Steven,” she said wistfully. “Please, I want to work to be your