Ellie Submits Pt. 04

One morning while checking her work email, Ellie discovers that Miriam has sent her a meeting invitation. The meeting is scheduled for 2:45pm to 3:45pm that afternoon, and the title of the meeting is simply, "1 to 1".

Miriam is Ellie's boss's boss's boss. There are enough layers of management between them that they have never had a legitimate work-related reason to meet. It's all been in the gym up until now.

Ellie wonders if the meeting might really be about work. It doesn't seem likely, but is it more or less likely than her domme brazenly inviting her up to her office for another D/S "lesson", right in the middle of the workday?

She bites her lip. For the rest of the day, the anticipation makes it difficult for her to concentrate on her work. So does the lack of information, which is, of course, intentional on Miriam's part. She is very sparing in her communications. Ellie wonders what, if anything, she should bring with her.

In the end she brings her work laptop, as cover, and nothing else. Miriam's office is in the executive suites on the fourth floor of the building, where Ellie has never been. She arrives in her usual office garb: a chunky sweater, a knee-length skirt and bright leggings, and of course the heeled boots which were Miriam's gift to her. She knocks at 2:45 on the tick.

"Come in."

Miriam's office is spacious and tastefully lit. Dead ahead of the door is Miriam's desk, where she has a screen, and some chairs for visitors. Behind her desk is the corner of the building, with two floor-to-ceiling windows at right angles, and a lovely view of the office's green surroundings -- trees and mown lawns. But the office also extends to the left of the door, where there is a separate space with some couches, a rug, a coffee table... a good place for more informal discussions with more people. The walls in that left area are lined with packed bookshelves. There are a few lamps. It looks comfy. There is a second door which Ellie doesn't notice; it leads to a private bathroom.

Miriam is behind her desk, typing. She looks up for one second, then back at her screen. "Close the door and take your clothes off."

Ellie glances at the windows. But from all the way down there, no one can see anything. Probably.

She sets her laptop down on a chair. She pulls her sweater over her head and unbuttons enough of her blouse to pull it over her head too, revealing her hulking upper body. Before Ellie began her training, her breasts were medium-sized relative to her frame, a B or C cup. But her tireless work has burned away a great deal of body fat, reducing their size and her need for support. At the same time, her enlarged pectoral muscles and latissimi dorsi have increased her underbust measurement. She's had to buy new underwear. Today she wears a skimpy lilac bralette.

She unbuckles her shoes. She unzips her skirt, lets it fall to the floor and steps out of it. She peels down her leggings and adds them to the pile. And finally, removes her bra and her panties.

She stands to attention, nude, hands behind her back.

"In the bag," Miriam tells her, still not looking up.

"Oh!" There is an open shopping bag right there on the floor. From some boutique. She should have noticed. Ellie gathers all her clothes up, her shoes and her laptop, and puts them in the bag.

"Put the bag over in the far corner, behind the couch," Miriam says, pointing.

Ellie does so, and then returns and stands to attention again.

Miriam continues to type for some minutes, while Ellie waits in silence. The air in the office is a little cool; Ellie feels goosebumps rise on her arms, and her nipples begin to stand up.

At last, Miriam finishes her work. She strikes Enter with some finality, and stands up, and circles her desk to inspect her young sub. Ellie is a head taller than Miriam, and almost twice her weight, and almost all of the extra weight is muscle. She is a pillar of Amazonian strength and beauty. And she looks very nervous.

"How've you been?" Miriam asks, inspecting Ellie's flawless body. She bends low and takes a close look at Ellie's vulva -- perfectly hairless, as ordered. She doesn't touch her.

"I haven't touched myself and I haven't come without permission," Ellie reports, proudly. She is hoping that this means that she will escape punishment today, and maybe even receive some kind of reward. "Um. Also, someone asked me out."

"Oh? I'm surprised it took this long. What did you tell them?"

"I said I wasn't interested in a relationship right now."

"Who was it?"

"A guy at my climbing club. Lucas. I don't know him very well."

"A man?" Miriam chuckles indulgently. "Good instincts. If any other man asks you out, tell them the same thing. You're not interested. If a woman asks you out... tell them you'll think about it. Then come and tell me who she is."

"Ma'am?"

Miriam and Ellie are both bisexual. Miriam knows that Ellie has no strong preference either way, though historically she has dated more men than women. (Her lack of experience with lesbianism is part of the reason she's here.) Meanwhile, Ellie knows that Miriam has dated -- or specifically, dominated -- both women and men in the past, but doesn't know if she even has a preference.

"My interests go in cycles," Miriam explains. She squeezes Ellie's immense upper arm, feeling the goosebumps, and tracing the deep line between her biceps and triceps. Then she gently tweaks Ellie's stiff left nipple. "Right now I'm in girl mode. I've had no interest in men for a long while. Which means you have no interest in men either. A year from now, maybe I'll mix things up again. Or switch to fucking men exclusively. Who knows?"

"But... you're interested in other women, ma'am?"

Miriam ignores the question. She presses a large scrap of black leather to Ellie's chest. "Put this on."

It's not immediately obvious to Ellie what it is, until she unfolds it and examines its shape. It is a hood.

Ellie hesitates.

"Put it on," Miriam repeats.

Ellie puts it on. The hood completely encloses her skull, ears and eyes, though Ellie discovers that she can hear quite clearly through the leather -- there are discreet holes, which she didn't notice. Her nose, mouth and chin are left uncovered. The hood is snug and very comfortable and absolutely dark. She is blind.

"Oh," Miriam says. "That's much better." She finds Ellie far more attractive with her eyes covered. So vulnerable and yet so powerful. Like some monstrous beast of highly trained muscle, no longer fully human, hunting by scent alone. "Fold your arms behind your back. Grab your elbows. I don't have time for a proper arm bind, today. Keep your arms folded. If you don't, you'll pay."

"Ma'am, what is a proper arm bind? I don't think I've ever had one."

"I'll show you another time. Now, hold still. I have some... adornments for you."

Miriam cups Ellie's right breast for a moment, stimulating her nipple with a finger and thumb, pinching it lightly and causing it to rise up expectantly. Then, Ellie feels something hard there instead. Two hard round plastic jaws, closing around her nipple from side to side, gripping it tightly. Ellie winces and then hisses with pain as Miriam tightens a screw, increasing the pressure. "Aaah, ma'am, that hurts! What is that?"

"A gift, young lady," Miriam replies. "A decoration, to make you look more beautiful." She lets the clamp go, letting its metallic body dangle against Ellie's chest. "And here is another." She does the same to Ellie's other nipple. The pain is quite something. On both of her breasts, now, she feels a cruel, hard pressure, like firmly gripping fingers and thumbs. Ellie has to bite her tongue to avoid crying out.

"These are the friendliest ones I have," Miriam explains. "Soft grips. No serrations or spikes. No weights, this time. If you can't tolerate these, we might as well end this right now."

"Nnnnnnnnnh. Ma'am, does this give you pleasure?"

"A great deal of pleasure, yes."

Ellie nods, blindly. She stands up a little straighter. Somehow, being told that her domme enjoys something helps her to enjoy it too.

Lastly, Miriam attends to her pussy.

"Oh no... Ma'am, are you sure..."

"Be quiet," Miriam tells her. "From this point on, I want you to be absolutely silent. No begging, no coming."

A few fingers slide in, and out. Ellie mewls silently. She is a little moist, but more confused than horny right now. Her clitoris stirs, and rises just a little. Miriam caresses it, lovingly. She tugs lightly at Ellie's inner lips. For several minutes there are no sounds in the office but the rustling of Miriam's clothing and the soft movement of flesh on flesh -- and the inaudible whine of ascending pleasure in Ellie's ears. Miriam's manual skills are second to none, as she already knows.

But no coming?

Resisting orgasm always seems simple on paper. But then Ellie's beloved domme shows her what she's capable of. And being blindfolded makes the pleasure so much more intense, and being forbidden to speak makes resisting it so much harder, and the pain in her tormented nipples makes it impossible to concentrate... Ellie tosses her head, helplessly. Within a minute, Miriam pushes her almost all the way to her edge. She holds her breath and clenches up, desperately, not wanting to disobey, and at the same time desperate to be released...

Abruptly, Miriam stops. She withdraws and stands up.

Ellie says nothing, although her body language clearly communicates a cocktail of disappointment and relief.

And then, inevitably: more jaws. A third clamp. This one in the most desperately sensitive place imaginable. Ellie winces and struggles, but does not make a sound, and does not unfold her arms. Miriam notes her sub's obedience with some satisfaction. She tightens the third clamp firmly around Ellie's bud, until she is sure that it won't fall.

Beneath the hood, Ellie is screwing her eyes up. She bites her tongue. The cruelty of being teased almost to climax and then denied is almost worse than the pain in her genitals.

Actually, no. No, the clit clamp is much worse. It hurts!

"Good sub. Quiet and disciplined."

Finally, Miriam moves her submissive young friend across the room. Guiding her by the hand, carefully, making sure that she doesn't trip over any furniture, she moves Ellie, along with her swinging metallic adornments, into what Ellie guesses is the far corner of the office's lounge area. Beyond the couches, beside the floor lamp.

Miriam checks the clock. It is almost 3pm. "Now. Listen carefully to these orders. This is serious. Do not make a sound, and do not move. Face straight ahead and keep your arms folded behind you. Don't shuffle your feet or fidget. Breathe slowly and quietly, taking shallow breaths. You are a statue. An item of furniture. Immobile and silent. And I'll tell you when."

Ellie says nothing. She is already obeying.

"Good."

There is a click, as Miriam switches off the floor lamp beside Ellie. Ellie hears her cross the office and take her seat behind her desk. There is some typing.

Someone knocks on the door.

"Come in," Miriam calls.

Ellie freezes.

Whoever it is comes in.

"Hi," Miriam says. "Take a seat."

"Good afternoon, ma'am," says the newcomer. She sits down. Apparently she and Miriam know each other well enough that they don't bother to greet each other by name.

Ellie holds as still as she can. She knows she's tucked away in the far corner of the office, but she must be in plain view, surely? Surely the newcomer can hear how hard her heart is pounding!

There is a shuffle of paperwork being presented, a laptop being opened.

"Second quarter revenue is up one point one percent, year-on-year," the newcomer begins. Ellie doesn't recognise her voice. She could be any age; she has a light south Asian accent, perhaps Indian. That's all. "A few deals were delayed late in the quarter, which is why we fell short of target. They'll show up on the next balance sheet. French and Australasian manufacturing output are solidifying into a strong upward trend..."

"That's not going to continue for more than a year," Miriam says. "There are changes coming. I'll explain later. Go on."

The newcomer goes on.

Ellie never gets her name, as Miriam never says it. The newcomer and Miriam are all business, and they work quickly, covering a lot of financial ground in a very busy thirty-minute slot. A lot of numbers, market movements, investment decisions. Ellie is highly educated, but her education is in biochemistry; most of the financial jargon goes way over her head. The best she can determine is that the business is doing well, but its competitors are doing well too. There is a danger of complacency.

Is it really possible that this newcomer is so familiar with Miriam, has been to her office for this regular meeting so many times, that she didn't look around? She just sat down and started talking?

What about when she gets up to leave? Will she turn to the left or the right? If she turns to the left, will she notice the six-foot-tall naked woman in the corner? Hooded, clamped and bubbling over with embarrassment? And what if she does? What happens then? Maybe she'll scream. Maybe she'll laugh. Maybe someone will get fired.

What if she already knows? What if she's seen her standing here and is just ignoring her? What if she knows all about Miriam's secret persona, her taste for domination, her latest submissive acquisition?

Ellie knows her cheeks are turning bright red at the cascade of humiliating possibilities. She tries to keep herself from shaking. The pain in her nipples and her clitoris are a continual distraction. She holds still. She breathes softly. It helps to remember that this is what Miriam wants. Miriam is in control.

The meeting wraps up.

"Anything else?" the newcomer asks.

"Your husband's collarbone?" Miriam asks in return.

"Still healing for another week," the newcomer replies. "He's promised to never touch a jetski again, but he was lying. As soon as we go back to the Caribbean he's just going to get back on again. It's an addiction." She's smiling as she says it. There's some affection there. "You?"

"Same old. Busy as hell, never a free second."

"Is the new gym buddy working out?"

Ellie would freeze, if she wasn't already frozen.

"Yes," Miriam says, brightly. "Very well, in fact. She's keeping me on my toes, and vice versa. Let me get the door for you."

"Same time next Friday?"

"Of course. Take care."

The door closes.

Ellie continues to hold still, until Miriam comes up to her and pulls her hood off. Miriam is beaming. She grabs Ellie around the neck and pulls her down and kisses her, passionately. "You did it," she says. "I'm so proud of you. Not a whisper. She never knew."

"Ma'am, who was that?"

"Anusha Meka, my deputy head of finance," Miriam says. "You were cooking in the far corner the whole time and she never looked. You magnificent creature!"

Ellie, almost bent double, tries to break away from her domme's enthusiastic attentions. Something much more important is on her mind. "Ma'am! Please!"

"Ah, yes," Miriam says. "These." She grasps the clamps dangling from Ellie's nipples. And then pulls them right off.

Ellie screams. And again, as blood flows back into her nipples and pain returns. "AAAOOUW!"

"What do you say?"

"Thhhhhank you, ma'am!" Ellie cries. She buries her face in Miriam's shoulder, and gnashes her teeth. She still has her arms folded behind her back, Miriam notices. Wonderful. A sumptuous model of discipline.

"Are you ready for what's next?" Miriam asks, her hand snaking down Ellie's abdomen, and then past her mons, to the last clamp.

Ellie swallows. "Yes, ma'am."

Miriam secretly loosens the screw on the last clamp, just a little... and then wrenches the clamp off, as roughly as the others.

Ellie screams again, even louder. The pain is absurd, worse for the brief anticipation. Veins stand out on her neck. It takes a while for her to recover. A few tears come.

"Very good," Miriam says. "Good sub. Fortunately for you, that door blocks a lot of sound."

"Good sub," Ellie repeats, dazedly. "I'm a good sub."

"You are a weak, undisciplined slut," Miriam says. "But you're getting stronger. And your discipline is improving."

"Gym buddy," Ellie repeats.

"Gym buddy," Miriam affirms. "Officially. And much more, of course, but that's between us. For now. Young lady, I believe you have earned a small reward."

"Yes please, ma'am!"

"And what would you like?"

"Ma'am, may I touch you? Please."

Miriam blinks. "...Don't you want to come?"

"Yes, ma'am, always. But I want you more. If I get to pick one of me or you, then I pick you."

Ellie has always had a powerful libido. Before she met Miriam, she would masturbate to orgasm at least twice a day. Since submitting to Miriam, she has been forbidden to masturbate and forbidden to orgasm, except when Miriam orders her to, which is only when they meet for "lessons", which are only every two or three days. It is not enough for her. She has spent most of these past weeks living in a miasma of sexual frustration and distraction. All she can think of, day and night, is her need for Miriam to touch her. Miriam's fingers, Miriam's lips... She needs to come. It's the only thing she needs. It's the thing she always needs.

But the relationship has been entirely one-way so far. Miriam has bound her, flogged her, fingered her and eaten her out. But she has never been allowed to touch Miriam in return. Miriam has never come in her presence.

Ellie's most desperate wish isn't to come, but to make her domme come. In fact, she wants to fuck Miriam senseless. To rip her clothes off and feast on her luxurious body for a night and a day, to bring her to mind-shattering heights of ecstasy. She's wanted this almost since the day they met in the gym.

Miriam says, "You'll put your domme's pleasure ahead of your own?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ellie gulps. "Always." She says it almost without thinking consciously.

Miriam nods, slowly, impressed and somewhat taken aback by the statement of devotion. She was expecting it to take a long time to train Ellie to reach this point.

"Alright. On your knees. No, not here. In the center of the room."

Ellie shuffles out, onto the rug, and kneels, still with her arms "bound" behind her.

Miriam moves up to her, stands over her. She fondles Ellie's ears for a moment, and then the sensitive areas below them, behind her jaw. She bends low, and murmurs, "Good sub." And kisses her, deeply and sweetly.

Ellie returns the attention, gratefully. Much of what Miriam has shown her over the past weeks -- bondage, blindfolding, flogging -- has been completely new to her, but kissing, making out, she can definitely do. She tugs at Miriam's lower lip with her own, opens her mouth and tries to find Miriam's tongue. But she keeps her hands behind her back. She hasn't been instructed to use them. Yet.

With one hand, Miriam pulls a few clips out of her tight bun of hair. It unfolds in a smooth black wave to form an opaque curtain around her and Ellie's faces. She throws the clips aside and caresses Ellie's throat, her neck, her enormous trapezii, her powerful shoulders. She switches angle as the kiss deepens further.

"Touch me," Miriam mutters between breaths. "Around the midriff only. Understand?"

Ellie's arms come loose. It's like whatever invisible rope was binding them disappears.

Miriam is a relatively short, curvaceous woman. She wears a tight black skirt with a thin leather belt, and a white blouse with a delicate lacy pattern on the long lapels, buttoned all the way down and tucked tightly into her skirt. Even without looking, it takes Ellie only a few seconds to unfasten three or four of those buttons, and snake her hands inside Miriam's blouse, and around her trim waist.