Miranda’s Lesson in Humiliation: She Finds a Real Man While He Watches

Miranda didn’t expect him to disappoint her again, but of course he did. Every time she gave him a chance to prove himself, he crumbled like a scared little boy dressing up as a man.

Tonight was the last straw.

He was already sweating when he crawled into her bed, trying to touch her with those trembling hands. She watched him struggle, breath hitching, face red — and then watched him fail to even get hard.

Miranda exhaled sharply, disgusted.

“Stop. Just… stop.” She pushed his hand away like it was dirty.

“S–sorry, Miranda, I—”

“Did I say you could speak?” she snapped.

He froze instantly.

Miranda stood up, towering over him despite his height. “Look at you. Weak. Shaking. Begging for my attention like a stray dog. And for what? You can’t even give me five minutes of decent performance.”

He shut his eyes, humiliated.

“No. Look at me,” she commanded.

He did — and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her expression was cutting, vicious, amused.

“You know what your problem is?” she asked, tilting her head. “You think I owe you something. You think just because you show up, I’m supposed to pretend you’re enough.”

Her phone buzzed.

She smirked.

He knew that look — and fear crawled up his spine.

Miranda tapped a single reply. “He’s here.”

Minutes later, a knock echoed through the apartment. Her entire energy shifted: colder, stronger, almost excited.

Her lover walked in — tall, confident, built like he earned her. Compared to him, the pathetic man on her bed wasn’t even in the same species.

Miranda sauntered to the newcomer and kissed him — deep, hungry, grateful. A kiss she had never once given the man crawling pathetically on her mattress.

She whispered something in her lover’s ear that made him chuckle darkly.

Then she pointed back at the weak one.

“Take a seat, loser. You’re going to watch.”

Her lover grabbed her hips, lifting her effortlessly onto him, kissing her like he’d been starving for her. Miranda moaned — loud, raw, unfiltered — staring right at the other man.

“That,” she said between kisses, “is the sound you’ll never get from me.”

Her lover pinned her against the wall, pulling her panties aside, sliding into her with one hard thrust that made her gasp.

Miranda threw her head back, crying out:

“Ohhh YES — THAT’S how it’s done!”

The weak man flinched like she’d slapped him.

Her lover fucked her deep, lifting her higher, pounding her until her back hit the wall rhythmically. Miranda clawed at his shoulders, moaning shamelessly, body shaking under the sheer strength of him.

“You feel that?” she taunted the pathetic man. “This is what a man feels like.”

Her lover flipped her onto the bed, positioning her on all fours.

“You’re loud tonight,” he growled.

“I have an audience,” she purred.

He slammed into her again, harder, deeper, making her scream into the pillows. Miranda looked up at the humiliated man kneeling at the corner of the bed, tears in his eyes.

“Watch. Every. Thrust.” Her voice dripped with venomous delight.

Her lover grabbed her hair, pulling her back into him as he fucked her relentlessly. Miranda’s moans filled the room, echoing, taunting, intoxicating.

“You hear me moaning?” she sneered at the weak man. “This is what you will NEVER earn.”

Her lover reached around and rubbed her clit, sending her spiraling.

“I’m gonna cum—” she gasped.

“Do it,” her lover growled. “Let him hear what a real orgasm sounds like.”

Miranda screamed, collapsing into a violent, shaking orgasm that shook the bed. Her lover kept fucking her through it, drawing out every last tremor, every last desperate cry.

When he finished inside her, Miranda melted against the sheets, glowing, satisfied, divine.

The lover dressed. The weak one was still kneeling, trembling, humiliated beyond words.

Miranda walked up to him slowly, tilting his face upward with a cold fingertip.

“What did you learn tonight?”

He swallowed. “That I’m not enough for you.”

Miranda smiled like a predator.

“You never were.” She leaned in. “Now clean the sheets. And don’t take all night — I might need him again.”

He scrambled to obey.

Miranda stretched her arms overhead, smiling with deep, satisfied cruelty.

“This,” she whispered, “is exactly the life I deserve.”