Chapitre 1: Day 1: Office Roleplay
Day 1: Office Roleplay
The dim light of Miranda's office casts long shadows over the sleek, minimalist décor, the city skyline twinkling in the distance through the wide glass windows. It's after hours, and the normally bustling hallways of Runway are eerily quiet, with only the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the space.
Andrea stands just inside the door, her breath coming in shallow, nervous gasps as she watches Miranda seated behind her massive desk. The older woman is impeccably dressed, as always, her sharp suit tailored perfectly to her figure. Her eyes are focused on some paperwork, as though Andrea's presence is nothing more than an afterthought. But Andrea knows better—this is all part of the game.
"Close the door," Miranda says, her voice as smooth as silk, not bothering to look up from her work.
Andrea swallows hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she reaches for the door, pushing it shut with a soft click. The sound echoes in the quiet office, sending a shiver down her spine. The air between them feels charged, thick with anticipation. Andrea has played this game before, but each time feels more dangerous, more exhilarating than the last.
Miranda's eyes finally lift from the papers in front of her, locking onto Andrea with that same intensity that has always made her knees weak. There's a spark of something darker in those blue eyes tonight—something that tells Andrea this is not just another one of their usual encounters.
"Come here," Miranda says, her voice low, commanding. "And bring me my coffee."
Andrea's heart pounds in her chest as she moves toward the desk, her hands shaking slightly as she picks up the coffee cup Miranda had left for her earlier. The heat from the cup seeps into her fingers, a stark contrast to the chill of Miranda's gaze as she watches Andrea approach.
The cup is placed carefully on the edge of Miranda's desk, and Andrea stands there, waiting, unsure of what will come next. Miranda takes a slow sip, her eyes never leaving Andrea's face. The silence between them stretches, thick with unspoken tension.
"You're late," Miranda says finally, setting the cup down with deliberate precision. Her tone is sharp, disapproving—the voice of a boss who expects nothing less than perfection. "I don't appreciate tardiness, Andrea."
Andrea bites her lip, the words slipping out before she can stop them. "I'm sorry, Miranda, it won't happen again."
Miranda raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "We'll see about that."
There's a moment of silence before Miranda leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she regards Andrea with that same cold, calculating gaze. "Come closer."
Andrea obeys, stepping around the desk until she's standing directly in front of Miranda. Her pulse quickens, knowing exactly where this is headed but still feeling the flutter of nerves that always accompany moments like this. Miranda has a way of making her feel completely exposed, vulnerable, and yet completely owned all at once.
"Do you remember your time as my assistant?" Miranda asks softly, her fingers drumming lightly on the arm of her chair.
Andrea nods, her throat suddenly dry. "Yes, Miranda."
"Good," Miranda murmurs, standing up from her chair and circling Andrea slowly, her eyes roaming over her body with a hunger that makes Andrea's breath hitch. "I want you to think about those days, about how you used to do everything I asked—no hesitation, no questions. You remember that, don't you?"
Andrea nods again, her heart pounding in her chest as Miranda stops behind her, her presence looming over Andrea like a storm cloud ready to burst.
"Answer me properly," Miranda says, her voice sharp and cutting through the silence like a blade. "Do you remember?"
"Yes, Miranda," Andrea whispers, her voice barely audible.
Miranda's hands suddenly grip Andrea's hips, pulling her back against her body, and Andrea gasps at the sudden contact. The heat between them is immediate, burning through the layers of fabric that separate them.
"Good girl," Miranda purrs, her lips brushing against Andrea's ear. "Now, I want you to do exactly as I say. Understand?"
"Yes, Miranda," Andrea breathes, her body trembling in anticipation.
Miranda's hands move with practiced ease, fingers trailing up Andrea's sides, slipping beneath the fabric of her blouse, pushing it up and over her head. The cool air hits Andrea's skin, and she shivers as Miranda's fingers brush against her bare back.
"Turn around," Miranda commands softly.
Andrea does as she's told, turning to face Miranda, who is already undoing the buttons of Andrea's pants, her fingers quick and efficient. Andrea's heart races as her pants slide down her legs, pooling at her feet. She steps out of them, leaving her standing in just her underwear, feeling completely exposed under Miranda's gaze.
Miranda's eyes darken as they trail over Andrea's body, and without another word, she moves to sit on the edge of her desk, gesturing for Andrea to come closer. Andrea takes a hesitant step forward, her knees weak with anticipation.
"Bend over the desk," Miranda says, her voice low and authoritative, the kind of tone that makes Andrea's core tighten with desire.
Andrea obeys, pressing her chest against the cool surface of the desk, her arms splayed out in front of her. The position is vulnerable, humiliating in a way that sends a thrill coursing through her body. She feels Miranda's presence behind her, the heat of her body so close, and then Miranda's hand is on the small of her back, holding her down, keeping her in place.
"Spread your legs," Miranda commands.
Andrea hesitates for only a second before she spreads her legs, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. She feels Miranda's hand slip between her thighs, fingers brushing lightly against the soaked fabric of her underwear.
"You're already wet," Miranda murmurs, her tone amused, fingers teasing Andrea through the lace. "Of course you are."
Andrea lets out a shaky breath, her fingers curling against the polished surface of the desk as Miranda's fingers continue to tease her, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm but not enough to push her over the edge.
"I should make you wait," Miranda says softly, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric of Andrea's panties, finally making direct contact with her slick heat. "But I'm not feeling patient tonight."
Andrea gasps as Miranda's fingers slide inside her, stretching her with ease, filling her completely. The sensation is immediate, overwhelming, and Andrea's body arches involuntarily, pressing back against Miranda's hand.
Miranda smirks, her fingers moving slowly inside Andrea, curling and stretching, deliberately dragging the pleasure out as long as possible. She's in no rush, savoring every moan, every gasp that escapes Andrea's lips.
"Look at you," Miranda whispers, leaning down to press her lips against Andrea's ear. "So eager, so desperate."
Andrea bites her lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out, but Miranda's fingers are relentless, pushing deeper, stretching her further until Andrea can't hold back the moan that escapes her throat.
"More," Andrea gasps, her body trembling, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk as Miranda's pace quickens. "Please, Miranda…"
But Miranda doesn't give in to her plea immediately. Instead, she pauses, keeping her fingers inside Andrea, her thumb brushing teasingly over her clit without applying enough pressure to offer any real relief.
"I control when you come, Andrea," Miranda says softly, her voice dripping with authority. "Not you."
Miranda's words send a shiver down Andrea's spine, and she nods weakly, her body completely at Miranda's mercy. The sensation of Miranda's fingers inside her is intoxicating, each movement sending waves of pleasure through her body, but it's the control Miranda exerts that leaves Andrea trembling.
Miranda's fingers curl inside her again, stretching her further, and Andrea's hips buck involuntarily, desperate for more. But Miranda's grip on her is firm, keeping her pinned against the desk, unable to move beyond the slow, torturous rhythm Miranda has set.
"Tell me how it feels," Miranda whispers, her voice low and commanding, fingers continuing to move in slow, deliberate strokes. "I want to hear you."
"It feels—" Andrea's voice catches in her throat, her body trembling. "It feels so good, Miranda."
"Good," Miranda murmurs, her thumb brushing ever so lightly over Andrea's swollen clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her body. "But I think we can do better than that, don't you?"
Without waiting for an answer, Miranda presses her thumb harder against Andrea's clit, circling it with precise, calculated movements that make Andrea's legs tremble. Her fingers thrust deeper inside, stretching Andrea to the brink, filling her so completely that Andrea feels like she might fall apart at any moment.
Andrea's body arches off the desk, her breath coming in ragged gasps as Miranda increases the pressure, her fingers relentless now, pushing Andrea closer and closer to the edge. The tension inside her coils tighter, a hot, burning need that threatens to consume her, but Miranda's control over her is absolute. Every time Andrea thinks she might fall over the edge, Miranda pulls back just enough to keep her dangling in that exquisite place between pleasure and agony.
"Please," Andrea gasps, her voice breaking as she grips the edge of the desk. "Please, Miranda…"
Miranda's lips curl into a wicked smile as she watches Andrea writhe beneath her touch. She leans down, her breath warm against Andrea's ear, and whispers, "You can come when I say you can, Andrea. Not a moment before."
Andrea bites her lip, her body trembling with need, the pleasure so intense it's almost unbearable. Miranda's fingers continue to thrust inside her, each movement slow but deliberate, pushing Andrea further and further to the brink. Her thumb moves in perfect rhythm over Andrea's clit, each touch sending sparks of electricity through her veins.
"Look at yourself," Miranda demands, her voice low and commanding. "Look at what I do to you."
Andrea forces her eyes open, focusing on the mirror across from the desk. The sight of herself—bent over the desk, legs spread, cheeks flushed with arousal, Miranda's fingers deep inside her—sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body. She's completely at Miranda's mercy, and the realization only heightens her desire.
"Do you see that?" Miranda's voice is soft, almost dangerous, her fingers curling again, stretching Andrea even more. "Do you see how perfectly I own you?"
"Yes," Andrea whispers, her voice trembling. "Yes, Miranda…"
Miranda smirks, her thumb pressing harder against Andrea's clit, her fingers moving faster now, more insistent. The pleasure builds inside Andrea, a fire that burns brighter with every stroke, every flick of Miranda's fingers. Her body tenses, teetering on the edge of release, and yet Miranda still holds her back, controlling every second, every sensation.
"Beg for it," Miranda whispers, her lips brushing against Andrea's neck. "I want to hear you beg."
Andrea's breath comes in ragged gasps, her body trembling uncontrollably as she fights to hold on. "Please, Miranda," she whimpers, her voice hoarse with desperation. "Please, let me come…"
Miranda's fingers thrust deep inside her, and Andrea feels the pressure building to an unbearable peak. Her body shakes, her legs barely able to hold her up, and all she can do is cling to the edge of the desk, waiting for Miranda to give her permission to let go.
"Come for me," Miranda says softly, her voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Now."
At Miranda's command, Andrea's body explodes, her orgasm ripping through her with such intensity that she cries out, her hips bucking against Miranda's hand as waves of pleasure crash over her. Miranda's fingers continue to move inside her, drawing out every last tremor of release until Andrea is left trembling, gasping for breath, completely spent.
Miranda pulls her fingers out slowly, watching as Andrea's body collapses against the desk, her limbs weak and her mind spinning from the overwhelming pleasure. The cool air of the office feels like a stark contrast to the heat that still lingers between them. Andrea's chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her skin flushed and damp with exertion.
Miranda brings her slick fingers to Andrea's lips, her eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. Andrea's breath hitches, her pulse quickening all over again as Miranda's fingertips press against her mouth, coaxing her lips to part.
"Lick them clean," Miranda whispers, her voice a low command that brooks no argument.
Andrea hesitates for only a moment before obediently opening her mouth, her lips wrapping around Miranda's fingers. The taste of herself coats her tongue, the intimate act both humiliating and exhilarating in a way that makes her body ache with the lingering heat of desire.
Miranda watches her with a smug satisfaction, her gaze sharp and intense as Andrea licks her fingers clean, her tongue gliding over the digits with careful precision. The power dynamic between them is palpable—Miranda in control, always in control—and Andrea has never felt more captivated.
When Miranda finally pulls her fingers away, she smirks, her eyes glinting with amusement. She brushes a lock of Andrea's hair back from her flushed face and tilts her head, appraising her with that same cold precision she used in the early days of Runway.
"I think," Miranda says softly, her tone teasing but laced with something darker, "a part of you misses being my assistant."
Andrea lets out a breathless laugh, the sound filling the quiet office, her body still buzzing from the intensity of what just happened. She shakes her head, a wry smile playing on her lips as she meets Miranda's gaze.
"No," Andrea says, her voice thick with amusement and satisfaction. "This is far more fun."
Miranda's smirk widens, clearly pleased with Andrea's response. She steps closer, her hand resting lightly on Andrea's cheek, her thumb brushing over her lips in a way that makes Andrea's breath catch all over again.
"Good answer," Miranda whispers, her tone dripping with approval. "But don't forget, darling… I'm still your boss. In every way."
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Next kinks:
Day 2: Anal Sex
Day 3: Omegaverse – Miranda as Alpha
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