It is another two days before Miriam reappears at the company gym. When she arrives, much later than usual on Wednesday evening, she finds that Ellie is alone, kneeling on a mat in the middle of the otherwise empty gym, hands in her lap, eyes downcast. She is fully dressed for her workout, in tight, cherry red yoga boyshorts and a matching long-sleeved spandex top. But her forehead is glistening with fresh sweat. It looks as if she finished working out a little while ago, and has been waiting patiently since.
Miriam studiously ignores her. She walks over to the changing rooms and dons her pink and black fitness garb. She returns, dumps her half-empty kit bag in one corner, and walks up to Ellie, who remains kneeling, and does not look up.
"You seem penitent, young lady," Miriam says. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
"I touched myself, ma'am, and I came," Ellie says. She snuffles. "My housemate and her girlfriend were... making love, in the next bedroom. And I was desperate. And I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'm so sorry!"
Miriam's dour expression doesn't change. "How many times did you come?"
"Only once, ma'am!"
"'Only once'," Miriam echoes. She clicks her tongue, displeased. "Stand up. Take your top off, and your shoes, and stand with your feet spread. Hands behind your head."
It takes Ellie barely five seconds to do what she's told.
Miriam has to suppress a sigh of pleasure as Ellie strips, revealing her mountainous, muscle-bound body. Her sculpted form, her firm little tits. So much power, so much pent-up animal lust! The young lady must be positively baking with desire.
Miriam reaches down, inside Ellie's shorts. She runs her delicate fingers either side of Ellie's slim inner labia. She tweaks Ellie's tiny clitoris out of its hood. She squeezes it very hard between her finger and thumb, producing some pain.
"Aiiee!" Ellie cries, but she holds her position.
"This," Miriam says, not letting go, "is my property. You may not use it without my permission."
"No, ma'am! I'm sorry!"
"Your orgasms belong to me. When you come, you may come for me, only. Every orgasm is a gift I give to you. Not something to be taken at will. Thief!" She squeezes hard, again.
"Aiihh! Yes, ma'am!"
"What do you think we should do about this?"
Ellie gulps. "May... may I return it to you, ma'am?"
Miriam has to quickly turn her head away. She very nearly breaks character and laughs out loud. She controls her expression and turns back. "You honestly think I'll let you lay one finger on me? As punishment for a stolen orgasm? You've got another thing coming, young lady." She releases Ellie's genitals and steps back, allowing Ellie to fret about what might be about to happen.
Miriam loves the feeling of domination, and Ellie is a rare and delectable subject. Such a strong woman, so physically imposing... brought to heel using little more than sharp words. The sensation of power is unmatched.
"Today was going to be the day, Ellie," she says. "I was going to let you touch me."
Ellie whimpers.
"But instead, punishment. See that pull-up bar in the corner? Is that tall enough for you to hang from it with your feet off the ground?"
"I think so, ma'am."
"Then do it."
Ellie walks over. She looks up, jumps up and catches hold of the bar. She hangs there, shoulder and arm muscles bulging, breasts pulled up and spread. Her toes only just clear the floor. Her nipples come up to around Miriam's eye height.
"No, no," Miriam says, following her, bringing her kit bag. "Not facing me. Facing the wall."
Ellie doesn't drop down, she just turns and switches her grip. There's no mirror on this part of the back wall, which means she can no longer see Miriam, or what she's doing.
Miriam reaches up and runs an admiring hand across Ellie's straining back. Her upper body looks incredible under tension. Muscle on top of muscle, a sharply defined spinal groove descending to deep dimples of Venus. Miriam takes a hold of the waistband of Ellie's shorts and pulls them down, roughly -- all the way down, untangling them from her ankles. She throws them aside and runs her hand down the deep, tight cleft between Ellie's walnut-hard buttocks. She fondles Ellie's ass, then strokes her powerful inner thighs.
Ellie grunts.
"I want you to hang there for as long as you can," Miriam says. "Try not to move." Unseen, she pulls a flogger out of her bag. It is a solid, canvas-bound shaft with a bundle of flat, canvas tails. She takes careful aim, and strikes Ellie diagonally across the back, from the shoulder down to the hip.
Ellie makes no sound, but flinches just a little.
Miriam flogs her thoroughly. All of her upper and lower back, and her butt, especially her gluteal folds. And her thighs and calves and, most importantly, under her arms. It's a very light flogger, with short canvas tails rather than longer leather ones. This means Miriam is able to put her back into it, really working her flogging arm and upper body. She has to raise her arm to reach the upper parts of Ellie's back, and bend low to strike her calves. She switches hands as her arm becomes tired. She practices her backhand and her forehand. She starts to perspire with the effort. For Miriam, this is tonight's workout.
"Lift your feet up," she says, and then rains blows down on the soles of Ellie's sensitive feet, for good measure.
Ellie withstands the first few blows silently. She chirps with shock -- "Agh!" -- when the first blows start to land on her armpits -- she didn't know how sensitive she was there. But before long, she is wailing continually, a rising and falling drone of pain. Her arms are aching badly too. She has to constantly shift and tighten her grip on the metal bar to avoid falling. If she were just hanging still, she could hang here for a good long time, but being flogged at the same time, and flinching under each blow, makes her swing, which makes things much more stressful.
Miriam slows down and stops. She was planning to flog Ellie until she let go, which she assumed would not take more than a few minutes. But Ellie is made of stronger stuff. Miriam is impressed. The whole back side of Ellie's body is reddened now. Ellie flexes her wrists, shoulders burning. She's breathing very heavily.
"How many was that?" Miriam asks.
"One hundred and one, ma'am," Ellie sobs. "It hurts so much!"
Miriam blinks. She counted one hundred. She certainly intended to stop at one hundred, a round number. She wonders which of them might have miscounted. It was probably her. Whoops.
Anyway. "Do you have anything you'd like to say?"
"I'm sorry," Ellie says. "I'm sorry I stole from you. I won't do it ever again."
"I would like to believe that," Miriam says.
