Ellie Submits Pt. 16

On Monday morning, Ellie is woken by an electronic buzzing. Two things buzzing, actually. A regular alarm clock and, between her legs, a fat silicone egg, vibrating in time with the alarm.

She squeaks with surprise. She tries to move, but she can't. Or see, or speak. Ah: she remembers now. She is at her domme's house. She is tied up in a guest bed, where her domme left her to sleep after a weekend of training.

She is laying on her side, blindfolded, and gagged by a simple rag tied around her mouth. She wears night clothes: shorts and a pale yellow T-shirt. Her arms are tied behind her back with luxurious, silky red ropes. Her ankles are tied together too, and a short length of rope links her ankles to her arm tie, forcing her to curl up a little. It's a very odd configuration to try to sleep in... but, she realizes, she did sleep. Quite deeply, at that, with pleasant dreams. She feels well-rested. And hungry.

She twists her upper body, fruitlessly trying to reach for either the egg or the clock. The bed is only a single, and she almost wriggles her way off of the edge by accident. But then she feels the other body in the bed stirring too, a lithe girl -- her domme's other sub, Simone. Simone slept unbound, and naked, aside from her slim leather choker and a pair of white cotton undies. Ellie is an immense, powerfully muscular girl, and occupied most of the bed, even curled up. Simone, half her size, slept draped over her, like a cat or a fragment of blanket.

Now, Simone climbs over Ellie, and silences the alarm. This causes Ellie's vibrator to shut off -- and Simone's, too. "Good morning," Simone says, starting to untie Ellie's bindings.

Ellie mumbles something similar in return, through her gag.

"Ma'am's alarm goes off soon," Simone tells her. "We need to get ready."

*

They file silently into their domme's bedroom. Miriam is asleep, bundled up and snoring lightly. Simone won the game of rock-paper-scissors, so Ellie stands to attention in one corner, while Simone slinks quietly beneath Miriam's covers.

For a few minutes, as Ellie watches, nothing happens, except for lumps beneath the covers moving. After a while, Miriam begins to murmur in her sleep. She shifts her hips, and stretches. She rolls over, pushing some of the covers aside, revealing her bare legs, and the hindquarters of the dark-skinned, spindly young lady at work between them.

"Nnh," Miriam says. Still mostly asleep, she puts a hand on Simone's head, or rather the lump in the duvet where her head is, and pulls her inward, close and tight. Inside of Miriam's body, flower buds are growing, and starting to unfurl. "Nnh."

Simone applies her training, worshipping her domme's succulent, curvaceous body in exactly the way she's been trained, the way she knows Miriam likes it best on a Monday morning. Miriam squirms with delight. By five minutes to six, she still has her eyes closed but is fully awake, and tugging the covers aside so that she can run her fingers through Simone's glossy black hair. She teases her ears.

Simone takes her to the next level. And then, using both of her hands, the level beyond that...

Miriam arches her back. "Oh, yes. Mmh!"

Then her alarm clock goes off. Miriam scowls, and disengages from her sub. She rolls over, and kills the alarm.

"Your timing was off again," she says. "I would say you were running about ninety seconds late, this time."

Simone sits back, taking a kneeling position at the foot of the bed. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am." The daily challenge is to bring Miriam to orgasm precisely at the second that the alarm sounds. It's very difficult. Simone has only succeeded a few times.

"Feet together, grab your ankles."

Simone climbs off the bed, turns her back and obeys. She is a flexible young woman. With her feet flat on the floor, she is able to fold her body almost perfectly in half, lowering her head to knee height. She aligns her forearms with her calves, grasping her ankles from behind, and holds still. The position exposes her backside to her domme. She's still wearing her white panties.

Miriam climbs out of bed, hunts around, and picks up a cane. She rolls Simone's panties up into her butt crack, to better expose her firm little behind, and then strikes Simone across her bare buttocks, five times, in extremely rapid succession.

Simone yelps. "Ah, ah! Ah! Ow! OWW!" She rocks forward onto the balls of her feet, nearly overbalancing. She grins, and bites her lip. The cane is her favorite.

After the five are done, Miriam bends down and holds the cane out to Simone. Simone grasps it between her lips, and holds it, and otherwise maintains her position. Her ass stings. It's so intense, it's almost like a burn.

Miriam straightens up and looks in Ellie's direction. Ellie has watched all of this from the corner, hands at her sides, absolutely silently... though with some envy. She is biting her lip.

"Join me in the shower, young lady," Miriam says to her.

*

The shower in Miriam's en suite bathroom is a walk-in cubicle, easily large enough for two. Miriam raises her hands and presses them against the wall, and orders Ellie to wash her.

Ellie uses a soft sponge, and plenty of foam. It becomes a kind of soapy massage. Ellie is careful and tender, and her hands are strong. She enjoys her work. She spends a little more time than is perhaps necessary cleaning Miriam's more sensitive parts: her armpits, her bountiful breasts, and broad, curving hips. She finishes with her legs, working up her calves to her thighs, and then between them.

Miriam sighs with pleasure at this last touch. "Bring me off," she orders, not changing position.

Ellie doesn't hesitate. She squeezes the sponge, lathering her domme's pussy up, then uses her free hand to push two fingers deep inside of her domme's sweetness. Miriam lowers her head, and moans. Ellie rises from her squat, and soaps Miriam's chest and throat again, stimulating her skin with the soft sponge, coating her body with more scented white foam.

"Unh." Miriam lets her hair fall in curtains around her face. She growls, "Bring me off, now."

Ellie rises to her full height. She spends a second studying her domme's luxurious body. She lays gentle fingers on her hips.

She obeys.

*

Simone hears Miriam's shrieks of ecstasy through the en suite door, and smiles. She is still holding her position, cane in her mouth. The position is quite a strain to hold -- her muscles are starting to ache.

Sometime later, the water shuts off. Later still, Miriam and Ellie both emerge, both of them clean. Miriam is in a bathrobe. Ellie follows behind her, naked and dripping wet -- no towel for her.

Miriam goes over to Simone, takes the cane from her obedient lips, and strikes her five more times across the behind, completing her punishment for the morning.

"Ah! Ah! Ow, ow, OW-YES!"

Simone's eyes are still watering when Miriam gives her her next order. "Go and fetch me an armful of soft black rope, then make breakfast for all of us."

"Yes, ma'am!" Simone dashes away.

*

Ellie, still naked and rapidly drip-drying, assists her domme as she applies makeup and does her hair. Ellie selects work clothes from Miriam's walk-in wardrobe: expensive underwear, sheer tights, a modest business dress in dark green, polished black ankle boots. She helps her dress, and zips her up. Miriam dresses for authority, and Ellie can't help but admire the completed look.

Once Miriam is ready, she takes the rope, and dresses Ellie in turn. She decorates her sub's body with a sophisticated rope tie which wraps up her whole body. Today, Miriam explains, Ellie will wear this instead of underwear.

"All day?"

"All day."

"During work?"

"Mmm hmm."

Ellie has a firm body with delightful natural breasts which normally fit a B-cup bra, or sometimes A. They were a size larger, until she began her training and worked away so much of her body fat. Miriam loops the ropes so that they pass below and between Ellie's breasts, squeezing them and pushing them out just a little. More ropes hug Ellie's latissimi dorsi like a corset, and criss-cross her abdominals in an attractive diamond pattern. Finally, a pair of ropes dives down between her legs, and up between her buttocks, and tie off. Miriam carefully sets a few knots in the ropes right where they pass Ellie's pussy, so that the knots will rub against her in a pleasing way.

Miriam leave's Ellie's hands free. So, strictly speaking, the rope tie might not count as bondage. Tightened up properly, the ropework is very comfortable, almost practical, and slides across Ellie's body in quite pleasing, sexy ways. The ropes themselves are very soft.

Miriam has Ellie don the rest of her usual work attire. A knee-length skirt, a white blouse, and a chunky knit sweater. Ellie checks herself out. She turns, bends and stretches. She has a full range of motion, and she looks completely normal. The sweater is thick enough that there's no way anybody could tell what she's wearing under her clothes. It's a thrilling feeling.

She is Miriam's. Beneath her surface-level appearance, she has a beautiful, hot secret: her body is not her own. She is Miriam's property, at all times. She breaks into an elated grin. She sinks to her knees at Miriam's feet, with gratitude. "Oh, it feels good. Thank you so much, ma'am."

"But you can't take the sweater off," Miriam cautions her, toying with her ear. "Unless you want people to find out."

"What if I get hot, ma'am?"

"Oh, you're going to be hot all day. Wait until you try walking in it. It's going to be quite the experience."

Downstairs, Simone has almost finished preparing breakfast for all of them. Topless, she flitters around the kitchen, assembling the meal. Oatmeal for Miriam, a mountain of eggs and smoked salmon for Ellie, fruit for herself.

Ellie finds that Miriam was right -- the knots, rubbing against her crotch, are quite enthralling. She lifts her skirt up, showing Simone the ropework underneath. Simone approves.

*

It is a distracting, hot day at work for Ellie. The whole day, her body is being touched and rubbed and teased by her domme's bondage. It takes a little while for her to get used to it. She imagines her domme's fingers.

By the end of the morning, she's mostly adjusted. It's just an unfamiliar piece of clothing, a strange new kind of uniform. But the ropes between her legs, she never quite adapts to. At her desk, or in meetings, she has to try hard to sit still, to not roll her hips forward and back, rubbing herself off. While she's walking around the lab, she has to focus on not walking strangely, or gasping spontaneously with pleasure.

When she visits the bathroom, she finds that she can twitch the ropes aside without any trouble. She puts everything back in place afterward. She is a good sub, and she does not touch herself.

Late that afternoon, Miriam sends her a message.

"I need you for something. Come up to my office. Come straight in, it's unlocked."

Ellie's heart leaps. She hurriedly finishes her work for the day, and follows her domme's instructions. She finds herself grinning eagerly as she makes her way up to the executive office floor, passing various coworkers and managers who have no idea that she's probably about to have some really good sex.

Miriam's office is empty.

Ellie finds a handwritten note on her desk.

"Take off all of your clothes. Leave the ropes. Put the hood on and kneel in the center of the lounge area to your left, facing away from the door. Be quiet and still. And make yourself ready."

Ellie obeys. Beside Miriam's desk, she finds a bag containing the leather hood. She puts her clothes and the note in the bag, puts the hood on and assumes the ordered position, sitting on her haunches, hands in her lap. It is perfectly clear to Ellie what "make yourself ready" means. She's already dripping wet with arousal and anticipation.

And then she waits for her domme.

And waits. Under the hood, it's impossible to keep track of time. As the working day comes to an end, Ellie hears activity elsewhere in the building slowly wind down. She can't see through her hood, but the ambient light in the office fades as the Sun sets. She thinks of her domme. She stays hot for her.

Eventually, she hears the door open behind her. Someone walks in. Miriam.

"...absolute fiasco if the CEO doesn't come to terms with it soon," Miriam is saying. "Our buyers are going to be left scrambling."

"For instructions?" another woman asks, following her in.

Ellie freezes.

Miriam has played games like this before. Her office consists of two areas -- the desk area, with seating for a few guests, and then, off to the side, a separate area with some couches and a coffee table, for more informal conversations. Lamps, bookshelves. The office is large enough, and has enough random furniture cluttering the place up, that Miriam can hide a bound sub in one corner, almost in plain sight... and then hold a meeting, with the meeting attendees totally unaware. The experience is nerve-wracking for the sub, and, in Ellie's experience, supremely erotic. Holding still and breathing quietly, praying not to cough and be discovered and humiliated, while an unwitting outsider yaks about nothing of importance for an hour... the tension, alone, is almost enough to tip Ellie over the edge.

But last time Miriam tried this with Ellie, Ellie was in the far corner, behind a lamp. Almost unnoticeable. This time, she's in the middle of the floor. She must be impossible to miss! Surely? Miriam is good at directing people's attention, but there has to be a limit...

There's a smell of coffee in the air.

The other woman sprawls in a chair. "Unf. Sometimes I feel like we're the only competent ones in the company," she says. She sounds young, perhaps around Ellie's age. She sounds prideful, and she has a delicious accent, which might be Swedish or Danish. "You and me, I mean. You've got to promote me, Miriam. Look at me, you know I need to be in management. Entry-level work is just..." She yawns, theatrically. "Beneath me."

"It's not up to me," Miriam says, diplomatically. "I don't interfere with promotional decisions that far down the hierarchy. No shortcuts."

A junior employee, then, Ellie figures. She and Miriam went for coffee, to talk about her ambitions. A mentor/mentee relationship? A brat.

The visitor giggles. "Competence," she repeats. "Your head of I.T. is still worthless, you know. It's as if she lives to fuck up. Constantly disorganized, losing track of what she's been told to do. Forgetting her exercises. Forgetting my gifts."

Ellie can hear that Miriam is smiling indulgently when she replies, "Olivia is a fine employee. She's highly experienced. She's prevented more than one crisis before it happened."

"Oh, I don't mean at work, obviously. I mean the rest of the time. She's a whole different person. She's a goblin. A disobedient little whore, driven by filth and humiliation. Sometimes I think she fucks up on purpose. I think she actually likes it when I kick her ass. At least, I hope so. It happens often enough."

Miriam sighs.

The visitor goes on, "You and I should double-team her sometime. Teach her real a lesson."

"Maybe."

So the newcomer is another domme. And she's dominating someone from Miriam's senior staff. Ellie knew Miriam was friends with other dommes, and suspected that there might be one or two of them working here at the company. But she's never met any of them. Or any other domme, come to that. And, in her mind, a domme is senior. Important. Older than her sub. More experienced.

She shouldn't be so surprised. There's no reason why a dominant shouldn't be young. Younger than her, even. Ellie admits it to herself -- she's really new at this. She really doesn't know anything.

But who is it? It's a huge office, well over a thousand people. Ellie doesn't know most of them. She doesn't recognize the voice. There are hundreds of people it could be.

"And how's your gym buddy?" the visitor asks Miriam.

"Ellie is a dream come true," Miriam says, with a pleasant sigh. "She's so beautiful, and so vibrant. Her body is unbelievable. Absolutely Amazonian. She could break me like a twig if she wanted. I've never met a girl who worked so hard on herself. The moment I saw her, I knew I had to have her, whatever it took. And it was so worth it. She is a deep, disciplined submissive. She has this one face she makes... this dopey 'I've just been fucked senseless' grin."

Ellie blushes hard at this. She's never heard Miriam speak so candidly about her to someone else.

"She's your second, right now?"

"I still have my nymph."

"The nymph is twenty-five?"

"Twenty-six. Just."

"And the gym buddy?"

"Twenty-three."

"And you're forty-nine? Miriam, honey, you're a disgrace. You're older than both your subs put together."

Miriam chuckles, wickedly. "I know! Honestly, I love it. I guess I've still got it."

"Absolutely, you do. God. I wish I had that rack."

It sounds like the visitor stands up.

"Well," she goes on, "the nymph was exquisite. This one's had similar training?"

She's coming over.

Ellie exhales heavily. Of course, they've been watching her the whole time. Talking about her like she wasn't there. Judging her. It was stupid to think anything else. And now what happens? She feels so tense, she wants to explode. She's never felt so wet.

"She has good instincts," Miriam says, "but she isn't fully trained yet. She doesn't know any of the standard positions."

Something goes SNAP, loudly, leather on leather, right beside Ellie's ear. Ellie flinches. The newcomer leans down, beside Ellie's other ear, and says, "Any limits?"

This is a test. And Ellie passes. She says nothing.

Behind her, Miriam says, offhandedly, "No. No limits."

"Mmmh." The visitor caresses Ellie's throat, from behind. She runs an hand down her body, admiring her form in a dispassionate way, the way one might admire a piece of livestock. Squeezes her butt, pinches it hard. Ellie doesn't move.

"Good evening, bitch," the visitor murmurs.

"Good evening, miss," Ellie replies, promptly. She spent the past few minutes desperately trying to guess what she's supposed to call the new domme. She hopes "miss" will be acceptable.

It isn't. The new domme strikes Ellie, hard, on the buttocks, with what feels like a thin leather belt. Ellie yelps.

"Does a bitch talk?" the visitor demands. "Bend over. Face to the floor."

Ellie obeys, presenting her hindquarters. She receives four more painful blows from the belt. Then the visitor grabs Ellie's throat again, and says, "Answer me. Does a bitch talk?"

Ellie stammers. How can she answer the question if she's punished for talking? "Y-- I don't know?"

Two more blows. That was wrong.

"Ah!"

"What is a bitch?" the newcomer demands.

Ellie doesn't know what she's asking. "A sub? A disobedient--"

"Wrong."

"Aow! AH! AHH!"

As the beating continues, Ellie's mind races. Tears form in her eyes. What is this, a riddle? A bitch is... what? A female dog? An animal?

"Auh!" she cries, blindly. She makes it sound like a bark. "Aurf! Rowf!"

The newcomer relents, satisfied. And a little impressed.

Ellie pants for breath. She opens her mouth and lets her tongue hang out, panting like a dog would. Her butt hurts like crazy.

"Good," the newcomer says. "Good bitch. You learn quickly."

"Like I said," Miriam says. She is still on the far side of the room. In fact, from the occasional sound of a mouse clicking, it seems as if she's doing some work.

The newcomer fastens something around Ellie's throat. A leather collar, with a long leash.

"Roll over on your back."

Ellie obeys. The newcomer has Ellie grip her left shoulder with her left hand, and then ties her arm like that, ropes binding her wrist to her armpit. Then the same with her right arm. Then the same with her legs -- heels against her ass, ankles bound firmly to her upper thighs. This renders all of Ellie's limbs useless. Just fat, waggling stubs.