Stress Test - Ellie's Academy (Part 1, 3.3k Words) (Patreon)

 A small breakfast and a long session of cardio had made up a satisfying morning for Ellie Watson. A hot shower even more so. It soothed the spots on her wrists and ankles where heavy weight straps had rubbed at her skin, as well as the feet that had hammered the gravel track without hesitation for four straight hours (the following two having been on her hands). Standing with the hot water pouring onto her pale freckled skin she pressed her fingers to the shimmering gold band fitted firmly around her neck. Satisfying, but not hard enough, she decided. It had seemed hard at the time as her lungs burned and her hands shook and her legs cramped, but her recovery time was growing every quicker. Once her shower finished she only felt the sweet pump of muscles well worked and the familiar hunger for more. The afternoon's training would best be much more intense. This gave Ellie something to think about as she paced into her room and towel dried her hair to keep the red locks from drying wild and frizzy. With care, she tied them into a neat ponytail with a blue ribbon. As a high ranking "gold collar" student of the Athena Athletic Academy she had the luxury of her own room with an en suite, giving her a privacy she very much appreciated. What she was most grateful for, however, was her wardrobe.

 If Ellie could ever have been accused of wasting time, it would be in the minutes she spared herself to pick out a leotard from her healthy collection. It was the sparkling, colours and patterns that had first caught her attention as a small child as she caught the world championships on television. What had enthralled her even more was the way the fabric wrapped around the muscles of certain athletes, their phenomenal bodies bulging against the fabric but remaining so graceful and feminine in movements and routines that seemed to defy physics. Now Ellie could leave her childhood idols in the dust, but her love for them, as well as their leotards never faded. A purple, glossy number was her choice for today, with white, frost-like patterning around her neck and shoulders, subtly bejewelled and glittery on the uppermost section. As usual, she had to pull herself away from the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door, shaking her head with a smile. Come on. Head on the game, Ellie, she reminded herself.

 Once out of the gold-band dormitories, she moved her attention to the large board on the far side of the path. Near twice her height and double that across, it was filled with pins, papers and posters. Some looked professionally printed, some were scraps of paper with scrawled writing. Such boards were dotted around the Academy grounds, indoors and out. They were updated daily, and filled with the various sessions taking place around the grounds, updates, meetings and even challenges and competitions. Some girls also liked to leave messages and notes, most anonymously. One that made her smirk as it caught her eye was simply of a love heart with "L + W" written inside. She didn't linger on it long, as her eyes began to skim for the most brutal looking session available. Fate, it seemed, had other plans.

 "Miss Watson?" a meek little voice made her turn around to find a girl a few years her junior. Only little shorter but a lot skinnier than Ellie. The black leather band around her neck meant that she was of the lowest ranked group of Academy students and that was as far as most would bother to look. Perhaps some would note the slender frame wrapped only in a thin white leotard, and the way she shyly hid most of her face behind her mousy, shoulder length hair. But Ellie saw more. She she saw the blister covered, calloused and torn skin of her hands and the wiry muscle running up her arms which meant that she would be moving up the ranks before long.

 A lot of the more highly ranked students liked and expected to be fearfully revered by 'black collars', as they were called. Ellie did not. "I told you Willow, I'm not a Trainer. Call me Ellie." she responded with a cheerful Scottish twang. The girl gave a start, moving her gaze up to Ellie's face a few moments too late.

 "Oh!" as she squeaked, she really did remind Ellie of a mouse - a small, sharp nose above a little mouth set slightly open and soft features with wide eyes. "Okay - sorry, Ellie." The smaller girl seemed surprised to be addressed by name, but Ellie remembered her well, though they had met only once. She and another black collar, shorter, darker and much more hyper-active had helped her out with some weights during a session a few weeks ago. Academy students at a certain level often needed help in loading or unloading weights during more advanced training and the black or bronze collars were always the quickest to volunteer or be roped in. As she smiled up dreamily, Ellie had to prompt her to get her to keep talking and she gave out another squeak. "Oh! Of course... I have a note for you. From Miss LaChance." Between her slim pale fingers she held out a neatly folded piece of paper.

 Ellie rolled her eyes. She did wish that people wouldn't use the new girls as messenger birds, but gratefully took the note nonetheless. The handwriting within was in almost perfect cursive.

Watson,

A new custom Academy training machine has arrived today and you

will be testing it out. Any plans you had today are cancelled. Meet me

in Room B212 immediately.

- Zoe LaChance

P.S. - Be sure to warm up those famous abs.

 As one of the handful of the Academy strong enough to earn a golden band around her neck, Ellie was no stranger to stress testing new equipment, but a couple of things stood out as unusual. First, in her experience testing something out normally took no more than a couple of hours. Secondly, Ellie had been among the lucky few to have limited exposure to Zoe 'Last Chance' LaChance, an infamously cruel trainer, so it was curious that she should request (or rather demand) her personally. It was the last line that interested her most of all, and led her to believe this was less of a request or order and more of a challenge. Her ever eager abs, so often acting like they had a mind of their own gave a twitch at the thought.

 Willow let out another quiet noise and shuffled her feet and Ellie noticed her again. Once more it was a moment before the pair made eye contact. "Thanks, Willow. I'll see y'around." she put a hand on her shoulder, "The trick is to not neglect the obliques." she added with a grin after seeing Willow steal a glance at her stomach for the fourth time in the last thirty seconds. "Miss Kent has a great abs session starting at noon, you could still make it if you're quick!" It was hard not to smile as she left the poor girl blushing furiously.

 Room B212 - that was on a basement level, Ellie thought to herself as she took the route to her ad-hoc appointment a fair distance away at a swift jog. Below the ornate ground floor the Academy started to look less like an elite institution for the athletically gifted and more like a medieval dungeon. New students were often terrified by the rumours of screams coming from the underground floors and the stories of horrifying detentions that could go on for days at a time. Older students knew them to be more than just rumours and stories. The heavy wooden door and rough stone steps near the back of the east building did not curb Ellie's pace and the world outside seemed to disappear as she descended the stairwell, fading into an eerie silence. It was cold down here, most notably to her feet bare feet on the stone tiles but the Academy veteran did not shiver. Not even as she reached her destination, stood before the door and reached behind her head to neaten her ponytail. A rough topography of chiselled muscle rose through the back of her leotard, pinched between her shoulder blades and as her hair swayed it showed the freckles dotting her upper neck. As if her broadened lats weren't enough strain on the shimmering, skin tight leo, she took a deep breath to feel it hug her even more tightly. It felt good. She knocked firmly on the door.

 "Enter!" the cold response was sharp even through the reinforced wood. There was no hesitation as Ellie stepped through and closed the door behind her. The custom built metal rig dominating the small room was almost half as intimidating as the woman stood in front of it. Zoe 'Last Chance' LaChance (though the girl who said that name within earshot of her must have a death wish) earned her nickname as the trainer who dealt with the struggling girls of the Academy. Whether through a lack of talent, motivation or bad behaviour they would end up in one of Zoe's feared classes and once they were, their chances of quitting or dropping out from injury increased dramatically. All that said, the girls who made it through the sessions were often changed in their dedication to their training and the institution. A noble enough cause - if Zoe didn't seem to enjoy it so much, making sport out of forcing certain girls who displeased her out of the Academy. That left a bitter taste in Ellie's mouth as she stood to attention, her chest out, stomach tight and hands clasped behind her back. It didn't show in her polite address; "You called for me, Ma'am?"

 "Quite a while ago now, yes." Zoe stood tall and blonde and beautiful, a soft French accent just noticeable. Sharp features and thin lips, pristinely plucked eyebrows and dangerous grey eyes adorned her modelesque face. Without a strand out of place her hair was tied back in a long ponytail. A career as a model would have been effortless for her but it was clear from a glance that she was not one who favoured the effortless route in any capacity. The woman's body was as ruthless as her attitude. As usual she had her blue Academy Trainer jacket wrapped around her waist to display her upper body and abs. Sinews split up her square shoulders, feeding into arms chiselled from marble. The plain black sports bra barely seemed necessary to support the high, shapely globes on her chest, below which chords and slabs of intricately woven stomach muscles danced in symmetry, down until her obliques disappeared into the jacket arms around her hips. Baggy blue tracksuit pants did not quite hide the thickness of her taut legs, and she wore trainers perhaps even more expensive than Ellie's favourite leotard.

 Even her cold glare somehow made her appear more beautiful. Many students cowered at that look. Ellie met it head on. "I came as soon as I got your message, Ma'am."

 "Then zat mouse of a black collar dragged her feet. I'll see to her later." she said dismissively - whether a test as to whether she'd speak up, Ellie wasn't sure. Either way doing so would be pointless and Willow herself might pay the price. After a short pause the woman continued, "But first thing is first. Today you are here to be the test subject for the machine you see here."

 At first sight the contraption seemed a complex amalgamation of metalwork with criss-crossing wires and harnesses. Not unlike a number of other exercise machines, both successes and failures dotted around the Academy gyms. At the inviting motion of Zoe's hand Ellie stepped forward for a closer look and began to deconstruct the hectic rig in her minds eye.

 A central seat - not unlike a large bicycle seat was the centre piece. Attached to it was a thick leather harness, a part for her upper and lower body draped by the sides (the specifics of which she could only assume she'd be learning about soon). A thickly woven metal cable fed into a pulley on each side of the harness, on the ground for now, but Ellie noticed several thick clips that would attach the two parts. The cables were fed back through another pulley or two behind the seat to a metal frame that dominated the scene. In the frame was a platform with a singular pole that was taller than Ellie but perfect, she could tell at only the slightest glance, for holding Academy class weight plates. She saw it now. A student would be strapped into the centre securely, the wires would clip on to the front and back of the harness and as weights were added, would pull at a downward forty-five degree angle, wrenching apart the elbows and knees of the lucky girl within and allowing her only abdominal strength to fight back. It was an impressive set-up, Ellie had to admit - even though she had always thought that complicated mechanisms were no replacement for big weights and hard work. Strikingly thick bolts secured it to the ground, giving it the look of a piece of industrial machinery and there was a clear sign of careful craftsmanship in every weld. Only the best for the Athena Athletic Academy.

 Once she was finished studying the frame she looked back to the looming woman. "I get it. I'll need help getting on, won't I?" A curt nod confirmed it, and another flick of the head was the command to take her place. The gymnast obliged as she could, lifting herself onto the black seat and pulling the first half of the harness around her chest, slipping her legs through the second. From there Zoe's rough and nimble fingers were on her, fastening the various buckles and sealing her fate. The top section crossed over her chest and back, a length of leather from the back securing it to the seat. An additional loop secured to each shoulder made tight bindings for her wrists. The lower part was simpler. A loop around each of her thighs and ankles latched together to keep her knees fully bent and one more kept her knees together. These were again connected by one central strap to the seat. The best trainers of the Academy took every opportunity to challenge the students, and Zoe was no different. She was not gentle in her application of the straps. Each one seemed tightened with the intent to squeeze the life out of Ellie, to cut off her circulation and cause pain. Before securing each one Zoe would give a few sharp tugs to squeeze out whatever millimetres of space might remain. The material was new and rigid and bit into Ellie's soft skin where it met the harder spots of her musculature.

 Although it hurt no complaint, no gasp, no laboured breath came from the seasoned gymnast as she waited in position. Only her bottom and the very lower part of her back rested on the seat, her upper body horizontal with her arms tucked behind her head. Her thighs followed the line of her body with calves and feet tucked tightly against them. Once properly tightened the bindings left only her neck and midsection free to move - she could bring her knees and shoulders up and down curl above or arch back around the seat. For now she held herself straight with the apparent ease of lying on a bed.

 With her spine straight as an arrow both the curves of a beautiful young woman and shreds of an elite athlete at peak performance were laid bare. Ellie Watson's body was the kind of thing new girls at the Academy whispered and dreamed about. What they would have thought to be a wild fantasy until they laid eyes on some of the more exceptional girls with silver and golden bands around their necks. Ten rectangles of muscle marched two by two in symmetry from her ribcage to her prominent outie navel, below which continued an only slightly less pronounced central crevice and additional row of muscle. This procession of peak athleticism became even more spectacular moving outward into the valleys of serratus muscles quivering around her sides, with the look and of interlocking metal chains and density to match. Further down they fed into obliques near as thick as her forearms, bulging upward by her hips, sharp lower cliffs of muscle peaking out from the sides of the sewn-to-fit leotard that looked moulded to her.

 The harness creaked as she flexed to test herself against the reinforced leather. It gave way only slightly as her steely muscles challenged it. For a few moments the muscle fibres shimmering across her body looked impossible to contain, but the moment passed. It felt durable. It felt good.

 "How long will this session go on for, Ma'am?" Ellie asked.

 The woman replied curtly, "Until you fail, of course."

 "How many times?"

 That was the first time she'd seen Last Chance crack a genuine smile. It was gone as quickly as it had come, and the trainer was securing the metal clasps connected to the pulleys. One side attached to a buckle at the nape of Ellie's neck, the one on the opposite side connected between her knees. She stared upward at the dark ceiling, patiently waiting for the trial to begin and hoping it wouldn't be a waste of time. With any luck Last Chance would live up to her feared reputation. An ominous ticking made Ellie's ear twitch, but the source was out of her field of view. "This metronome will keep you in rhythm." Zoe explained over the sharp, two per second beat, "Two ticks up, two down until I tell you otherwise. Use the full range of motion available to you." she put her hand out over Ellie's stomach, and for a bizarre moment it seemed that she might touch or strike the girl. "Begin!" she called sharply before moving back out of Ellie's vision again. But that didn't matter now. Only one thing mattered. The workout.

 Swift and smooth, Ellie's unimpeded movements looked robotic in timing and position but with the flow and grace of a dance, her fiery ponytail shimmering behind her. Her body arched backward into a light bow before curling up, in constant motion. With each movement the machines configuration of wires fed through the pulleys, lifting and lowering the central, currently unloaded plate, which would barely miss the floor as Ellie's back was at its most arched. The quiet grinding of the well oiled equipment in motion was still louder than the gymnasts steady breaths. The movement looked effortless, rep one as much as rep one hundred just over three minutes later. Nothing impressive fir an Academy student of bronze rank or above. They were trained for much more elaborate movements, harsher weights, or at the very least more reps. At this rate it would be a contest of who would fall asleep first... in these minutes Ellie was still waiting, patiently as ever for the other shoe to drop.

 That shoe dropped in the form of a thick metal plate, released from shoulder height onto the platform at the back of the machine. It screeched down the stabilising pole and clattered as it hit the metal base so loud that Ellie's ears rang. It had to have weighed at least fifteen kilos. The gymnast didn't miss a beat, not letting the sudden jolt and additional weight stagger her timing. But for a blink and huff from her nose, nothing seemed to change - the platform moved up and down, pulled by the cables attached to her just as before. A quick glance confirmed to her that there was a lot more room on that platform.

 "Eyes front!" barked Zoe, of course she was watching her student like a hawk.

 "Yes, Ma'am!" Ellie barked back - not all Academy Coaches expected to be addressed as such, but Ellie knew Zoe well enough. The woman demanded perfection and obedience to an extreme degree even for the Academy. It was something Ellie respected. What she respected less was the way she treated the students who couldn't keep up. At least for now, Last Chance wouldn't be torturing some poor black collar student.

 This time Ellie didn't flinch or turn her head as the next weight slammed down beside her. Another 15kg, she'd have guessed - nothing her abs couldn't handle for now, but she could feel the weight with each deep crunch. The redhead smirked...