Where She Belongs: Luxury Goddess

When Emily finished, she handed the glass back to Cindy, mumbled a "thank you," and returned to her knees, crawling back to the feet of her tormentors, applying more lotion to their soles.

Cindy stood stupidly. Video footage now existed of her spitting in a glass and handing it to a senior high schooler to drink. What had she done and why did the humiliation turn her on so much? She squeezed her legs together to try and satisfy the tingling.

"What else can we make her do?" said Lucy.

Cindy whimpered a little. "Please, Miss, I have cleaning to finish." She knew how pathetic she sounded. She couldn't help herself. She didn't want to help herself. She wanted more. She deserved the abuse. She craved it.

They both laughed at her request.

"Alright, loser," said Alison, "you can go."

"Thank you, Miss," said Cindy, curtseying.

"After you kiss our feet."

Cindy didn't even pretend she was going to refuse. She lowered herself to her knees and crawled to them.

Emily backed away and slowly rubbed her crotch with her fingers as she stared at the older woman taking her place at the feet of Alison and Lucy.

Cindy slowly kissed the balls of their pampered feet. Their skin was so soft and smelled like shea butter. Cindy's own hand trembled as it hovered over her own crotch. Her panties moistened. How could something so wrong feel so right?

"Alright," said Alison, still recording. "You can fuck off now."

*

Cindy had just finished the last of the cleaning when her phone buzzed. Eleanor wanted a gin and tonic.

Cindy went to the kitchen and searched the cupboards for everything she needed. She looked up recipes on her phone for the perfect gin and tonic. Eleanor would expect nothing less and Cindy would be embarrassed to serve her anything less.

She added large ice cubes made from frozen Penta water. She poured a measure of Nolet's Silver gin followed by three times the amount of Premium Indian tonic water. She peeled a strip of lime and twisted it over the glass to drip its oil into the mixture then dropped the peel fully into the glass.

She was proud of her creation when she delivered to Eleanor who had moved into the living room. Eleanor sat with her legs crossed, her elbows rested on the back of the sofa, and her breasts pushed out confidently.

Jessica sat facing her mother's side on the U-shaped couch, her face tilted slightly to the tennis match playing on the massive plasma TV.

Eleanor opened her hand and Cindy approached to pass the glass directly into it. Eleanor took a sip and passed it back. Cindy smiled and placed it on a coaster on the cherry wood coffee table.

"So," said Eleanor. Cindy immediately straightened as if called to attention. "We've been talking."

Cindy gulped and glanced at Jessica who smirked back at her with evil satisfaction.

Eleanor continued. "Jessica is concerned you're going to try and weasel out of your obligation to her."

"No, Ms. Eleanor, I would never-"

"I'm speaking!"

Cindy hung her head in shame and nodded. "Sorry, Ms. Eleanor."

"Now, as I was saying," she said with a pout. "It is vital that Jessica has her favorite racket before her tournament and you've already proven once that you can't be trusted."

Cindy felt a sting in her throat and at the back of her eyes. She had tried so hard to make amends.

"I think it is only right that we have some insurance, don't you?"

Cindy shuffled her feet. "I, um-"

Eleanor nodded to a large, glossy, onyx shoebox on the coffee table. "Open it."

Cindy felt the hateful stare of Jessica as she leaned over to remove the lid. It had the same elevated golden Ankh she had seen on the plaque. She froze as she looked inside to find a collar. She looked up at Eleanor confused.

Eleanor smiled. "Maybe I should explain. There's a microchip inside that will allow us to keep track of your movements."

Jessica sneered. "You won't be hiding from me, bitch."

"Language," said Eleanor.

Cindy had no intention of hiding. The price of servitude was high, both in money and dignity, but her pussy had not felt so alive since high school. She had been kidding herself for years. There was a reason why she thought of Eleanor every time she had sex with Pete. There was a reason why her experience at high school was what she came to. Her pussy hungered for this. She needed Eleanor. She needed the humiliation and exploitation.

"Of course," continued Eleanor, "this is usually reserved for misbehaved dogs, but it will work just fine for you too. Myself, Jessica, and Alison will all be able to monitor you on our phones. Go ahead, put it on."

Cindy trembled as she reached for it. It was bulkier and heavier than she thought. It was clearly an expensive piece of technology. Cindy did not even consider refusing. She looped it around her neck without a word of complaint. Jessica chuckled.

"Come here," said Eleanor, pointing before her.

Cindy shuffled over and Eleanor grabbed the thick leather, tightening it and clipping the metal buckle closed. Cindy felt the pressure, squeezing against her neck. It would take some getting used to.

"Okay," said Eleanor, "let's try this out, shall we?"

Cindy felt her palms sweat with nerves. Eleanor took her phone and tapped on the screen. "Status active," she said.

"Mom," said Jessica, taking out her own phone and grinning down at it. "You haven't told her the best bit yet."

"Oh yes," smiled Eleanor. "There really wouldn't be any reason for you to not just take it off and carry it around with you, would there?"

Cindy shook her head, fearing what was coming.

"We have some insurance against that too. Go ahead and try to take it off."

Cindy quivered as she reached for the buckle. There was a whir from within the collar and electricity zapped into her neck. She screamed and dropped to her knees, grabbing at the collar with her fingers to prise it away. It only lasted a moment but it was intense. She gasped and felt her heart beat a thousand times.

She whimpered as she looked up from the floor at Eleanor, staring down and smiling at her. Jessica clapped her hands and laughed.

"As you can see," said an amused Eleanor, "disobedience will be quite painful."

Cindy trembled. She was numb from the aftershock.

"Of course, you can still remove it if you can get through the pain. But I'd be very disappointed in you. You don't want that, do you?"

Cindy whimpered. "N-no, Ms. Eleanor."

Eleanor leaned down and tapped Cindy on her nose.

"Good girl."

If Cindy had a tail, she would have wagged it. She wanted to be a good girl more than anything else in the world.

"H-how can I hide this from my family?" she said, weakly.

"That sounds like a you problem."

Cindy nodded and looked down at Eleanor's boot. She wanted to kiss it so badly. She looked back up at her with puppy eyes and whimpered.

Eleanor smiled at her triumphantly. "You may."

Cindy leaned close to the point of Eleanor's boot and placed a single kiss upon the point.

Jessica chuckled. "Wow, what a fucking freak."

Eleanor tittered at her daughter. "Language, baby," she warned, playfully. "Oh, and Cindy?"

Cindy looked up from the leather.

"This collar was $450."

Cindy nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Eleanor."

Chapter 3.

Cindy admired her in the rear-view mirror of her car. She looked quite cute. Plus, the constant contraction against her throat felt safe, like Eleanor was always with her.

It was already dark. Her time with Eleanor and her family had gone by too quickly. She couldn't wait for tomorrow. Her heart raced and her blood was hot.

She checked the cul-de-sac was quiet and slid down in her seat. She guided her fingers inside her panties and massaged around her clit, spreading her fingers into a V for the victory Eleanor had gained over her.

She rubbed. The sway of Eleanor's buttocks in her skin-tight leather. The taste of toilet water. Jessica's anger. Alison's feet. All the money she had spent. The electricity through her neck. She gasped and came. Her submissiveness had given her warmth and euphoria. It was incredible. She felt better than ever. She was like a new woman.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly to Eleanor as if she could hear her through the collar.

She looked over at the tall hedgerow that guarded Eleanor's estate against unworthy eyes and sighed longingly. What might happen if she was to crawl back to the gate and beg to be allowed to stay? Would Eleanor take her in? Make a slave of her?

She shook her head and slapped her cheek.

She had to snap out of it. She was not eighteen anymore. She was a mother and a wife. She had a mortgage and a job. She had responsibilities now.

She turned the key in the ignition and her crappy engine spurted into life. How was she ever going to hide her collar from Pete and Sarah? She would have to sneak inside and find a scarf before they saw her. She would figure this all out later.

*

The lights were on in her living room but the upstairs seemed dark. Pete was definitely home. He was always these days. If she were lucky, Sarah would be working a late shift at Burger King. So long as Cindy got rid of her husband for a few minutes she had a chance to avoid being seen.

She parked away from the house and texted Pete.

-Hi, honey. I'm on my way. Do you want take out for dinner? Whatever you like. I'll be home soon.

She waited for a response, biting her nails. But after a few minutes of nothing, she sighed and dialed his number. After a couple of rings, he answered with a grunt.

"Pete," she said, "I'm tired. I've been working all day. Can you please go out and get us some food?"

"You have the car."

'Pete!' she said, unable to control the impatience in her tone. "Just do this one thing for me. I'm exhausted. I don't want to stop. I just want to get home. Wendy's is literally just two blocks away."

"Fine, let me finish watching this."

She listened to Pete's heavy breathing down the line and knew she would have to control herself if she had any hope of having him leave. She was not Eleanor. She did not have the charisma to simply make people do what she said.

"Please, honey," she said softly, hoping to gain his sympathy. "I've had a really hard day. Please go now. You can get me the chicken salad."

"A salad?"

"Yes, Pete a salad," she snapped, forgetting her patience immediately. Pete had that effect on her.

"Alright. Got sand in your vagina?"

She removed the phone from her ear and took a moment to compose herself before responding. She loathed him sometimes. "I'm sorry, Pete. I'm just exhausted," she said as sickeningly sweet as she could manage. "I would like to try a salad."

"Alright, give me a sec. I'm going."

"Thank you." She disconnected before giving him a chance to say anything else.

She waited far longer than the second he had claimed before he finally come waddling out the front door. She ducked behind her steering wheel and peeked over the top as she watched him disappear down the road. It was no wonder the idea of a salad was so shocking to him. The only greens he ate were relish on his greasy burgers.

When it seemed safe, she slowly drove up to the house. Pete had left the door unlocked. She opened it a crack and looked around for any sign of Sarah. It seemed clear. She entered and rushed upstairs.

She reached her bedroom door and had her hand already gripped on the handle when she heard the flush of the toilet. The bathroom door opened and Sarah stepped out, turning off the light. Cindy froze like a weasel in the headlights.

"Mom?" said Sarah, furrowing her brow, "um, what's that around your neck?"

Cindy gripped the leather and pulled at it absentmindedly as if noticing it for the first time. She laughed, more anxiously than she intended. "Oh, this? I'm just trying something. Do you like it?"

Sarah blinked at her. "That's a dog collar, Mom."

"Oh, Sarah," she said, desperately trying to think of a way out of it. "Don't be silly."

If only Sarah had spent twenty more seconds in the bathroom. Why was fate tormenting her like this? Why couldn't Sarah have been out with friends like a normal nineteen-year-old? Because she didn't have any friends. She had always been shy and awkward - easy prey for the confident, outgoing girls.

Cindy had hoped better for her daughter, but as it turned out, Sarah was just like her mom. She was unfortunately destined for a life of mediocrity. Cindy blamed herself for failing to prepare Sarah properly for the hardship of life. Still, she was a good girl and Cindy loved her more than anything.

"Mom?"

"It's just a choker. I heard they're fashionable. Alternative fashion they call it I think."

"So, like steampunk?"

Cindy smiled, relieved to have gotten away with it. "Yes, exactly. I love steampunk."

"Oh really? What's steampunk, Mom?"

A good girl who asked too many questions.

"Don't you have better things to do than question my fashion choices, Sarah?"

Sarah shrugged.

"Fine, I guess I'll just wear a scarf instead. Happy now?"

"Why do you need to wear anything around your neck?"

"Because," she said, spitting with frustration, "just once in my life I'd like to feel special." She wasn't sure where that outburst came from. "Sorry," she said, "I'm really tired, Sarah."

"It's okay, Mom. I'm sorry too. You know you're always special to me, right?"

Cindy smiled at her. She was a good girl who deserved a better role model than Cindy. Eleanor would never have raised a timid girl to be pushed around and bullied. It was inconceivable that Jessica or Alison would ever be targeted the way Sarah had. It was hard to believe Sarah was the same age as Jessica. It was awful to admit, but Cindy knew Jessica was the objectively better person. Just like Eleanor was better than herself.

Sarah continued. "And I think you look cute, for what it's worth."

Cindy smiled. "Do you really think so?"

Sarah nodded and gave her a hug.

Cindy squeezed her close. Sarah would be the best Sarah she could be and Cindy would be proud of anything she achieved. It was useless to try and compare her to Jessica or anyone else. Sarah was special because she was Sarah and Cindy would always love her.

"Your father is bringing in food. I'm going to get changed."

"You can wear anything you like if it makes you happy, Mom. You know that, right?

Cindy smiled. "Thank you. But I think your father might be confused by it."

They shared a laugh and Sarah kissed her on the cheek. She headed downstairs and Cindy entered the bedroom.

She checked herself in the standing mirror. It seemed a shame to hide her collar with a scarf but she knew Pete would not be as understanding as Sarah. She really did look cute. Even Sarah said so.

*

Cindy sat with her family across her small kitchen table on an uncomfortable wooden chair. She watched Pete shovel his cheeseburger into his maw and wondered how she had ever let him kiss her with that mouth. She nibbled on her salad, aware it was a pathetic imitation of what she had served Eleanor and Jessica earlier in the day. She sighed without thinking.

"What's up with you?" said Pete with his mouth full.

"Nothing," she said.

Sarah picked at her fries. "I like your scarf, Mom."

Cindy smiled at her.

"Oh yeah," said Pete, "why you wearing that?"

She glared at him. Had he just noticed? She needn't have bothered trying to hide her collar. He wouldn't have noticed even if she had drawn luminous arrows on it. "I thought it looked nice."

Pete laughed. "Since when did you care about looking nice?"

She slid her food away and got up from the table.

"That's all you're eating?" said Pete.

"Go ahead and finish it if you want."

"I'm not eating a salad."

"Well, maybe you wouldn't be so fucking fat if you did once in a while."

Pete held his cheeseburger in his grip and stared at her, speechless.

"Mom?" said Sarah, "Is everything okay?"

Cindy smiled at her. "Fine, honey. I'm getting an early night, though. Excuse me."

"You had an early night last night," said Pete.

"I'm still tired," she said without looking back, leaving her family staring in bewilderment at the back of her head.

Her attack on Pete felt good. Just a couple of days ago she would never have spoken up like that. It could only have been Eleanor's influence. She climbed the stairs feeling more confident than she had in forever.

She crawled into bed and under the sheets. It had been the most exhilarating 48 hours of her life. She had to continue to work hard to prove to Eleanor she was worth having around. She could never return to her normal life again. A life without Eleanor was meaningless. She started to play with her clit, terrified and excited to discover just how low she could sink.

*

It was impossible to sleep with Pete snoring like a motorbike. She watched the covers over his gut rising and falling. She had never been less attracted to him. At least he showed no interest in sex. The very thought of his touch revolted her.

She wondered why she'd married him. Because he asked her? Because she thought she couldn't do better? Because she thought she wanted to live a normal life instead of pining after her high school obsession? If not for Sarah, the last twenty-five years separated from Eleanor would have been a complete waste.

She looked at her phone and saw the time was 3:22. The idea that she could just close her eyes and be instantly teleported to tomorrow was long since gone.

A crash outside the window made her bolt upright. She nudged Pete to try and wake him but he was oblivious, as usual. She sighed at him and clambered out of bed.

She peeked through a gap in the curtains to look down at their dirt driveway to see a lanky figure wearing a black hoodie wielding a baseball bat. Her eyes widened as the figure cracked the bat down against her car's windshield, shattering the glass.

She reached for her phone to dial 911 when she caught sight of the figure's face. The large glasses and permanent flush gave her away at once. Emily. The girl who had downed Cindy's spit. Cindy watched in disbelief as Emily jabbed the bat into the wing mirror, cracking more glass.

Cindy knew should stop her. Emily was not Alison. She was a meek, awkward girl, not unlike Sarah. She would certainly run away if confronted. And yet...Cindy continued to observe her, mesmerized. Was this Emily's revenge? Cindy would deserve it after her role in her degradation. She suddenly felt better about the whole affair. It was as if they were even now.

How did she even know her address? She gripped her collar. Eleanor said they could track her with it. Alison knew her location. She must have put Emily up to it. She bit her lip and felt a tingle in her pussy. There was no escape from them now, even in her own home.

Emily continued until every window was covered in spider webs of broken glass. She moved to a zip bag on the ground and removed a can of yellow spray paint. She shook it and began to spray slurs over the paintwork. 'Whore,' 'bitch,' 'slut,' 'loser,' 'cunt.'

Cindy touched herself. Her pussy agreed with the insults.

Emily tossed the can back in the bag and opened a flip knife. She stabbed it several times into each of the tires. Finally, she picked up her bag and began to take pictures. No doubt she would be sending them to Alison and Lucy.

Was Alison hoping Cindy would see it all? Did she know Cindy would just stand and watch like a wimp? Did she want her to challenge Emily? Did it really matter? Alison would have found it fun either way.

Emily waited a moment longer than she should have before making her escape as if waiting for permission from Alison before running. Cindy hoped she would get away. She knew it would be difficult enough for a girl like that to succeed in life without a criminal record to her name. Although, she imagined Alison would get a good laugh out of her arrest.