Ellie Submits Pt 09

"Oh, see, this is a nice place," Sonja says as they drive up to Miriam's house. "Look at the size of this! She's got forest on every side... no neighbors... you could have one hell of a party here. You said she's the director at your office?"

"She's quitting," Ellie says. Ellie is in the passenger seat. Sonja is driving.

"But she's a C-level, yeah? Something like that? She must be loaded... Jeez, I wanna be here. When I win the lottery, this is the place I'm getting. Someplace just like this."

She parks, and checks the time. Ellie said she was supposed to arrive at precisely ten in the morning, and they have a few minutes, so she switches the engine off, and they wait. "You've been seeing her for...?"

"Just over a month."

"And how old is she, exactly?"

"Forty-nine," Ellie says. "But she looks much younger. She's very beautiful." She blushes. "From behind... She has beautiful dark hair. It comes almost to her waist when she lets it down. From behind she can pass for nineteen."

Sonja drums her fingers on the wheel. She is Ellie's housemate, and has been since Ellie first moved to the city, more than a year ago. For her, Ellie and Miriam's relationship has been something of a puzzle. She hasn't met Miriam, or seen a picture. She only knows what Ellie has told her, which is barely anything.

She knows Miriam is a smart, efficient business executive. Always immaculately attired -- Ellie admires and envies the way she dresses. She knows Miriam is petite, and beautiful, and extremely fit. She would have to be fit. She and Ellie spend enough time in the gym together.

Sonja also knows that Miriam is a high-maintenance partner. Ellie drops everything when she receives messages from her. She'll even interrupt a workout to text back, which, for Ellie, is absolutely insane.

Ellie seems happy, at least. Bright and bouncy, physically fulfilled. Most of the time. But also, occasionally, red-faced with anxiety and stress.

For Sonja, the age gap is the real puzzle. Ellie is twenty-three, Miriam more than twice that. What's the attraction? It could be the money...

"Okay, you have to tell me, honey. Is she good in bed?"

"Yes, oh yes!" Ellie says, quickly, almost without thinking. She makes eye contact with Sonja, and then looks away guiltily, clasping her hands together anxiously in her lap. The expression on her face lapses into vacant bliss. "She's... I've never..."

It doesn't look like she's going to finish her sentence.

Sonja giggles. Well, that pretty much covers it.

It's thirty seconds to ten. Ellie steps out of the car.

"Love you, honey," Sonja says. "You need anything, call me."

*

Ellie knocks at exactly ten. Miriam told her that it didn't matter what she wore, which of course made it agonizingly difficult to decide what to wear. In the end she started from her boots and worked up. Black felt ankle boots with three-inch heels, which were Miriam's gift to her. Then long, bare legs, and a short, high-waisted leather skirt, and a black T-shirt tucked tightly into the skirt. Some eye shadow, a few rings in each ear.

She didn't wear any underwear. At first. Then she changed her mind and put on her good bra and panties. She was halfway through changing her mind again, taking her top off, when Sonja walked in and told her it was time to head out.

"You're the one who said she'd be mad if you were even one second late," Sonja said. "You're the one who said you were too nervous to drive yourself."

"Okay," Ellie said, T-shirt wrapped around her neck and forearm. She pulled it back down, and stood up and looked down at herself, fizzling with uncertainty. "Okay."

"You look amazing," Sonja told her. "Look at those legs. Holy shit."

Ellie works out. She is never not working out. She is a paragon of feminine muscle, and her legs are amazing. But she still gets self-conscious.

"And that top is so good," Sonja goes on. "It looks like if you flexed hard you could split it open. Honey, that is a basic cotton tee, and it's so tight I can count your abs! If she doesn't love it, she's an idiot. I love it."

Now, standing at her domme's door, Ellie is becoming increasingly sure that she made a mistake. She needs to go home and change. Into something more casual. Or more formal. A summer dress. Different shoes. Or just not come back at all. Oh God.

Miriam flings the door open.

"Young lady," she says, beaming. She looks Ellie up and down, admiringly. "Right on the tick. I like that very much. Are you well? Are you ready?"

Ellie gulps. Miriam is wearing a long, flowing, floral-print dress. The dress has long sleeves, but plunges in front, showing off the deep cleavage between her abundant breasts. Her hair cascades down her back, in slow waves of black silk. A casual, sunny, colorful look. She wears strappy sandals. And, as always, a thin silver necklace.

Ellie clutches her small bag in front of her, defensively. She is ready. "Yes, ma'am! You look wonderful."

Miriam smiles, then glances past her. "Is your friend okay?"

Over in the car, Sonja is recovering after choking on her water bottle. Not that she thought Ellie was exaggerating, but Miriam is a bona fide babe. Her tits alone!

"Alright, honey," Sonja says to herself, fully getting it now. "Fucking get in there."

Miriam waves at her. She seems to be gesturing for her to come and join them.

Sonja shakes her head, but Miriam is insistent. Ellie seems uncertain. Sonja sighs. She sets her bottle down and gets out of her car.

Sonja is Ellie's age, medium-short, with a stocky, pear-shaped body. A very generous figure: big boobs, very big legs and a massive ass. Unlike Ellie, she didn't think twice about her outfit today. She's dressed for chores. Gray sweat pants and a pink tank top, with her shoulder-length brown hair bundled up with a scrunchie. She wasn't planning to come in.

"Miriam, this is my housemate Sonja," Ellie says, awkwardly. "Sonja, this is... Miriam. My, um. Girlfriend."

"Great to finally meet you," Miriam says, warmly.

"Yeah," Sonja says. "You too."

"Would you like to come in for a minute? I was just about to make some fresh orange juice."

"Sure."

*

Miriam points Sonja toward the kitchen, then she and Ellie follow her. As they walk, Ellie taps Miriam urgently on the shoulder.

"Ma'am," she whispers, "you're not going to--?"

"Be quiet," Miriam says.

Ellie last visited Miriam's house at night. In daylight, the open-plan kitchen/dining area is very brightly lit, with huge windows showing the expansive garden out behind the house. While Sonja and Miriam take seats at the dining table, Miriam directs Ellie to the kitchen area, where there is a large bowl of fresh oranges, and an empty glass jug. "Ellie, would you juice those for us? I just picked them."

Ellie looks around. "Do you have a juicer?"

Miriam smiles, absently. "I don't believe so."

"Or a knife--?"

"Use your hands. Wash them first, of course."

Ellie obeys. After thinking about technique for a while, she finds that the best approach is to puncture each fruit with her thumbs to create an opening, then squeeze the juice and pulp out through the opening. Some of the oranges are small enough that she can use one fist, some are large enough to need both. She's strong enough to wring each fruit almost dry.

The act of squeezing makes her shoulder and arm muscles bulge, which stretches her T-shirt, making it creak just a little. Maybe she really could split it open if she flexed hard enough? Ellie honestly doesn't know. She's never tried. It's a perfectly good tee. She doesn't want to ruin it. She takes great care not to squirt juice over herself.

Meanwhile, Miriam is explaining to Sonja how she and Ellie originally met.

"The gym machine nearly crushed me. Another few seconds and I think I would have had both legs broken. It was terrifying. And then Ellie dashed over, out of nowhere, and just lifted the entire thing off of me. Something like half a ton of weights, and she just pushed the thing upright, single-handedly. Completely effortless. And she did it completely naked."

Sonja laughs. "What? Ellie! You never told me that part!"

"I was using the shower when I heard the machine fall over," Ellie says, defensively. She squeezes another orange. "It was an emergency."

Sonja and Miriam share a knowing look.

Miriam leans over to Sonja, and murmurs in her ear, "You've lived with her for long enough. Can I assume that you've seen her naked?"

Sonja giggles. "Oh, yeah."

Miriam raises her eyebrows, and fans herself, theatrically. Ellie doesn't notice.

"Then one thing led to another," Miriam says.

Ellie realizes, as she squeezes the next orange, that this is a little show. Miriam is showing her off to Sonja, showing off her powerful grip strength and forearm muscles. And, to a lesser extent, her obedience.

In fact, what Miriam is doing is making her squirt. Squirt sweet juice, pints and pints of it. Ellie blushes hard when she makes this connection. It can't possibly be unintentional. She wonders if Sonja will pick up on it.

It is true, though. Very true.

"I think what we have in common is drive," Miriam says. "Drive to succeed, drive for personal improvement. We're both career-motivated; we're both very into physical fitness, obviously. Although, I doubt many people in the world are as into fitness as Ellie is. Right, Ellie?"

"No, ma'am," Ellie says. She says it instinctively. And then realizes, much too late, what she just said. "Uh! Miriam." But calling her domme "Miriam" feels so wrong...

Sonja says, "What?"

"She calls me 'ma'am'," Miriam explains. "It's a sign of respect."

"Oh...?" Sonja says. "That's a bit... weird. Hold on. Is this a thing?"

"Ellie enjoys discipline," Miriam says.

"Ma'am--!" Ellie begins.

Not looking around, Miriam holds up a hand, thumb and forefinger pressed firmly together, indicating that Ellie is to be silent.

"Ellie is driven," Miriam goes on. "But to really achieve her full potential, what she needs is someone to drive her. As for me, I love to help young people succeed."

In Sonja's head, things finally click into place. "Oh!"

"'Oh'?"

"You're a top and she's a bottom?"

Ellie turns beet red. She looks aghast. She looks desperately at Miriam.

Miriam just cackles. "Well, that is the short version. Yes, that's exactly right. Do you know much about the scene? Are you involved at all?"

"Nuh-uh. I mean. I guess I know a little. But, I'm not into that kind of..." Sonja falters.

"Roleplaying? Power exchange? Bondage?"

Sonja shakes her head at each of these suggestions. "Nah. I... blindfold my girlfriend sometimes. That's about as kinky as we get."

"Well, that's a start." Miriam glances over at Ellie. "Ellie, I think you mentioned Sonja's girlfriend to me once before...?"

"Monica Voss," Ellie says, not able to keep a nervous stammer out of her voice. "She works in the same department as me. They met through me."

Miriam looks at the ceiling, trying to place the name. She has well over a thousand employees. "Monica Voss... Oh! Oh, I know her. Oh, yes, she's beautiful. Just exquisite bone structure. Sonja, darling, good catch."

Sonja smirks.

Ellie finishes squeezing the last of the oranges. She has three-fourths of a jug of juice to show for it. After washing her hands again, she pours three glasses and brings them over. She gives one to her domme and one to Sonja. Before she sits down herself, Miriam gives her an affectionate cuddle around the hips.

"Anyway," Miriam says, "I've been dominant for years and years. But I discovered that the young lady was a complete newbie. She hadn't even heard of BDSM when we started out, can you believe that?"

Sonja can believe that.

"But she took to it quickly," Miriam goes on. "A complete natural. We've been having a lot of fun together."

Ellie sits beside Miriam. Miriam tenderly takes her hand. Ellie is so nervous that it's almost like a spark jumps between their hands. Miriam smiles reassuringly at her. Ellie finds that this calms her down a little.

Sonja is staring at Ellie, with a kind of newfound amazement. "So... does she tie you up? And whip you?"

Ellie says nothing.

"Answer her," Miriam prompts.

"Yes," Ellie says. "Yes."

"And you're into it?"

Ellie can't look her in the eye, or speak, but she nods, fervently.

"Use your words," Miriam tells her. "Tell Sonja how you feel."

"It's... completely different from any relationship I've had before," Ellie says. "When I'm with... ma'am, it's like I don't have control over myself anymore. I give myself up to her, and she takes care of me. She gives me what I need. I..."

Lost for what to say next, Ellie drinks her juice. She drains the whole glass, then sets it down.

"It's like a thrill ride," she says, finally. "I never know what's going to happen next. I... kind of love it."

Miriam squeezes her hand, affectionately. "I try to keep things interesting."

Sonja is almost lost for words. The revelation is pretty surprising. She never knew Ellie swung that way.

But then, Ellie didn't know either. And she looks radiantly happy. And very... tense.

"Well," Sonja says. "I should get going, huh?"

She finishes her own juice, knocking the rest of her glass back in a few gulps. She wipes her mouth, and stands up. "And anyway, I have a ton of cleaning to do today. Thanks for the drink."

Miriam stands up too. "Of course. Let me show you out."

*

Sonja leaves. She and Miriam have a little bit of a conversation at the door, which Ellie doesn't hear. Ellie is still seated behind the dining table as Miriam returns, dress and hair flowing behind her.

"Your friend seems like a good friend," Miriam says. "I think she understands."

"Ma'am, that was... scary. I didn't know how much you were going to tell her."

"Well, you're the one who gave the game away, aren't you? With that slip of the tongue."

"Yes, ma'am."

Miriam says, "I think Sonja can be trusted to be discreet. And, as your friend, I think she was owed some explanation. But in the future, when we're together, you'll be sure to choose your words more carefully. Yes?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Good."

Then Miriam snaps her fingers.

This, Ellie has been taught, is an order to strip. She stands up, eagerly pulling her T-shirt over her head. She is about to remove her bra too when Miriam stops her, suddenly interested.

"What do we have here? This is lovely."

Ellie's bra is a lacy black B-cup. It was quite expensive. Ellie has a deep, natural groove between her well-developed pectoral muscles, and her bra pushes her breasts up, turning the groove into deep cleavage. Miriam fingers one of the bra's thin straps, and then lightly brushes the fine lace over Ellie's breast. "Very attractive. I haven't seen you in real lingerie before."

"It's hard to find good lingerie in my size, ma'am," Ellie says. "It's mostly just sports bras and... oh..."

Miriam slips a hand inside, cupping her breast, squeezing a pert nipple. "It looks great on you. Maybe I'll have you keep it on." She withdraws her hand and moves down instead, inside of Ellie's skirt, exploring. She discovers more fine lace.

She moves inside of Ellie's panties. Ellie is, as always and as ordered, buttery smooth. She is also noticeably wet. Miriam gives her a deep, tender stroke, and then withdraws, and inspects her damp fingers.

"This one hasn't come."

"No, ma'am."

Miriam wipes her fingers clean on Ellie's linea alba, the deep vertical crease between her abdominals. She says, "Lose the skirt, but keep the panties on. I want to see Lingerie Model Ellie."

Then, as Ellie unzips her tight leather skirt and steps out of it, Miriam sighs with pleasure. Ellie is wearing low-rise briefs which match the bra. A deep V of lace, flattering her trim waist and powerful legs. "Oh, that is fabulous. Turn for me. Raise your hands over your head. Oh, yes..."

Ellie turns, presenting her body for her domme from every angle. Miriam crouches near her prized sub and looks up at her as she turns, admiring her figure, her ass in particular. "Mmmh. Such a wonderful complement. A contradiction. Delicate fragments of lace, so insubstantial that they could evaporate... on a body bursting at the seams with sexual power."

Ellie blushes. "Thank you, ma'am!"

"Have you ever done any modeling?"

"No, ma'am." Ellie is quite beautiful, and will even admit it to herself if pushed, but she's never thought she had the right body type for traditional modeling. She always thought she was too big. Too tall. Never rake-thin, like most models.

Miriam backs up, to about the distance a photographer could stand at. "Pose for me. Model."

Ellie tries, but she has no idea how to do it. How to stand, what expression to show, what to do with either of her hands. Mostly, she comes off as unconfident, and awkward. Yet again, Miriam has asked her to do something with her body which she just doesn't know how to do.

Miriam sees this. "Alright. You can stop."

Ellie sags, and tucks a stray blonde hair back behind her ear. "I think I'd feel more comfortable in fitness gear."

"Well, there is such a thing as fitness modeling. But really, I think you'd feel more comfortable if you had something to focus on other than the camera. Like an exercise to do." Miriam tilts her head, thinking for a second. "Do push-ups. Do them one-handed."

Ellie moves to where there's space, and drops to the floor. She plants her right hand on the floor for the exercise, spreads her bare feet into a Y shape, for stability, and keeps her left hand firmly at her side. It is a very strenuous exercise, even for her. It feels strange to be doing it in lingerie, instead of her usual sports top and yoga shorts. Her panties are uncomfortable, and her bust doesn't feel properly supported.

Still, before long she is focusing on her form, and the count, and the pleasant heat which is slowly developing in her muscles. And her self-consciousness kind of disappears.

Miriam watches silently.

"Eight. How many should I do, ma'am? Nine."

"Keep going until I tell you to stop," Miriam says. And she walks away, out of the room.

Some time passes.

Miriam returns with a camera. It's a decently expensive model, with a good-sized lens on the front. She crouches in front of Ellie, looking for a good angle. But she can't get low enough. So she scoots back a little and lies flat on the floor, aiming up at Ellie's straining face from below.

Ellie is still counting. "Nineteen. Nnnfh. Twenty."

"Don't look at the camera," Miriam says. Sighting all the way down her sub's body from this extreme angle, she takes the first picture. In the picture, Ellie's hulking right shoulder and arm dominate, while the hard curves of her torso taper away into the distance. The camera peers down her cleavage. Her black bra only barely conceals her firm, round breasts, cupping them with dark edges of lace. Ellie's face is in the foreground, nose down, a picture of effort and concentration -- or it would be, if it were in focus.

No matter. Miriam takes a dozen more pictures in rapid succession, then backs up a little, fiddles with the camera's settings, and tries again. Sweat is starting to bead on Ellie's forehead, and run down her face.

"Twenty-nine. Nnnf. Thirty. Nnnnf. Ma'am, may I switch hands?"

"No."

Miriam continues to photograph her, capturing her perfect form, her poise, her shining energy. Ellie looks up at the camera, briefly, and cracks a weary grin, but then it's back to the work. Miriam circles her, snapping pictures of her body from low angles on every side. It's as if she's systematically documenting the movement of her sub's every muscle. After a complete circuit, Miriam returns to Ellie's head, and kneels in front of her, just watching, almost transfixed. She reaches forward and strokes Ellie's ear.