Please note: This is the third part of this story. Things will make more sense if you read the previous two parts first.

https://Storyva.com/s/eleanor-luxury-goddess-pt-01

https://Storyva.com/s/eleanor-luxury-goddess-pt-02

Thank you.

*

Cindy was too exhausted to answer any of her husband’s questions when she finally arrived home. Pete had demanded to know why she hadn’t called and where she had been. She simply answered that she was tired and they would talk later. What could she have said? “Sorry, honey but I gave away $600 of money we don’t have and now owe even more on top of that?” She did not feel like having to explain herself to him. In 20 years of marriage, she had never once mentioned Eleanor to him. He would never have understood.

All Pete knew of her high school years was that, in his mind, she had grossly underachieved. He had self-diagnosed her with severe social anxiety and low self-esteem. Her refusal to talk about anything that happened to her in high school had led him to believe her problems stemmed from extreme bullying. She neither admitted or denied his speculations.

It was true that she had once been considered a promising student. She was top of her class back in middle school. Her aspiration was to become a doctor. She had always wanted to help people. Cindy would occasionally think back to herself at that age and wonder what that girl would think if she knew what was to become of her. Cindy was a middle-aged woman who stacked shelves at Krogers and lost out on countless promotions to literal teenagers. She knew that Pete was right, in a sense, but he was also being far too simplistic to blame others.

Yes, Cindy knew Eleanor had exploited her. But Cindy had allowed it to happen. She never once refused her. She had been desperate for Eleanor’s attention. It never mattered if it was positive or negative. The attention itself was all that mattered. She was addicted to it. If anything, the more Eleanor abused her, the more eager Cindy became to serve her. There had been a freedom in servitude that she had never regained. She never had to think for herself. All that had mattered was Eleanor. She was ashamed to admit it, but those had been the happiest days of her life. Perhaps she had subconsciously allowed others to get ahead of her without resistance in the hopes of discovering a new Eleanor who might take control of her life.

Cindy crawled under the sheets of the bed she shared with Pete. She had been waiting for this moment ever since Eleanor walked back into her life. Eleanor was more beautiful than she remembered. A lifetime of success and luxury had molded Eleanor’s body into that of a goddess. Cindy reached inside her panties and gently massaged her fingers down her wet Pussy lips. She whimpered from the excitement of finally being able to stimulate the tingle she had felt ever since she had first smelt Eleanor’s expensive perfume and saw the intimidating bosom stretching her tight cashmere turtleneck.

Cindy dreaded the thought that Pete might try and follow her. The last thing she wanted was his unwashed body lying next to her, distracting her thoughts from Eleanor. This was Cindy’s reward for all her service. It was worth every cent she had spent. She moaned as she inserted her fingers within herself. She wanted to take her time. It had been too long since she had been blessed with new memories of Eleanor. She rubbed against her clit and gasped into her sheets. The roundness of Eleanor’s Ass in her tight jeans, the pout of her glossy lips, the commanding sound of her voice, the perfect curve of her back. Warm waves rippled through Cindy’s whole body. She squealed as she came, better than she had in years. Eleanor was pleasure. Eleanor was bliss. Eleanor was life.

*

It was still dark when she rolled out of bed. Pete stirred from the disturbance.

‘You working?’ he said half-asleep.

‘Yes,’ she lied, having already made the decision to call her manager and claim a family emergency. He would be annoyed, but it wasn’t as if she made a habit of it. Considering her pitiful wage, she had been a model employee. ‘I’ll be back later.’

Eleanor’s coffee, Jessica’s racket, and Alison’s juice were too important to allow her job to interfere with.

She had never once been late for Eleanor and she was not about to start now. She remembered once when Eleanor had called her demanding snacks for a sleepover she was hosting. In Cindy’s haste to reach the store, she had accidentally ridden her bike over broken glass. She lost control of the burst wheel and swerved down an embankment. She cracked her head and broke multiple fingers. She did not let it stop her. She abandoned her destroyed bicycle, clambered up the embankment, and ran the distance to the store. She picked up everything Eleanor wanted and arrived at her door with time to spare. She was panting, bloodied, and concussed, but still, she had succeeded. Eleanor had her snacks, and she was able to sit in the waiting room of the ER proud in that knowledge.

Cindy first drove to a second hand tech store to pick up a cheap Samsung Mini to replace the one she lost in Eleanor’s pool. Next, she drove to the high-end mall nicknamed “the Gucci Mall” by those of Cindy’s class who rarely had a reason to set foot within that romanesque palace. She passed stores like Agent Provocateur, Giorgio Armani, Balenciaga, Cartier, Louboutin, Fendi, Jimmy Choo, Rolex, Swarovski, just to name a few. Wherever she looked there were designer stores, botanical gardens, fountains, marble columns, and aquariums.

She received more than one disapproving look from the privileged clientele at her cheap clothes. Their stares made her feel as if she should apologize to them for being there. She wished there was an alternative, but trying to find a Bosworth 96 that matched Jessica’s specifications was not as straight forward as she had hoped. If she tried to order online, it would take weeks to arrive. Jessica did not have that time. She needed it quickly. Cindy decided her best chance was to visit Athlétique, the luxury sportswear and equipment store. She knew she should have called and asked if they kept Bosworth’s in stock, but she was too afraid they might say no.

She entered the store and made her way over the glossy tiles. Busty and athletic mannequins taunted her with physiques and designer brands she could never hope to afford.

‘Excuse me,’ she said to the girl in a tight-fitting polo shirt and shorts working behind the counter. Her blond hair was tied into a messy top bun. She folded her arms and stared at Cindy, clearly annoyed to be bothered. Cindy stuttered. ‘I was, um, wondering if you might help me? I um, have this racket-‘ she placed it on the counter. The girl glanced at it once and then back to Cindy, furrowing her brow as if challenging Cindy’s right to even speak to her. ‘Is it possible to maybe get a replacement, please, if that isn’t too much trouble, miss.’

She scoffed. ‘Do you even know what this is?’

‘I uh, think it’s a Bosworth 96, isn’t it?’

‘They are bespoke. Do you know what that means? Built to order? We don’t just keep things like this in stock.’

Cindy felt the panic of failure pound inside her head. ‘Well, do you think I might be able to order one to pick up later today?’

She curled her lip. ‘Um, no? It would take like a week.’

Cindy’s panic turned to fear. The thought of Jessica’s rage prickled her skin. She had to try harder. ‘The thing is, miss, you see, this racket isn’t actually mine. It belongs to a really talented young woman. I mean she is good. Really, really, good, and she really needs it sooner than that.’

The girl shrugged.

She took a shot. ‘Do you know Jessica Kingsley?’

The girl was blank. Cindy cursed herself. Eleanor was married. She had seen her ring. ‘I mean, not Kingsley. Her mother is called Eleanor? She has a Sister, Alison? They live in Paradise Hills?’

The girl relaxed her face. ‘Oh, you mean Jessica Noble?’

‘Yes, her! You know her?’

‘Sure. Jessica is great. We went to high school together. She’s basically won everything she’s competed in since she was like 4 or something. She’ll be at the open this year.’

‘Then isn’t there something you can do? She really needs this racket. Please?’

She sighed. ‘Fine, I’ll make a call.’

Cindy waited, wringing her hands, pleading with watery eyes for the girl to come through for Jessica.

‘Hi, this is Athlétique,’ said the girl down the phone, ‘we need a Bosworth 96. No, the customer doesn’t know the specs, it isn’t for her. Hm mhm, well it’s a replacement. We have the original. No, it has to be today. I understand but it is for Jessica Noble. Yeah, that’s right. OK, we’ll deliver the prototype today. OK. Good. Thank you.’

She hung up the phone. Cindy stared at her, wide eyed and nervously optimistic.

‘Two days. Leave your number and we’ll text you when it’s ready.’

Cindy exhaled her relief. Two days wasn’t too bad. This was surely better than panic buying one that didn’t even match her specifications. She wondered if there was something she could buy Jessica to soften the blow?

‘That’ll be $450.’

Cindy was startled at the number. ‘Oh, um, really? OK, sorry, uh, sure.’ She opened her cheap handbag and rummaged through old receipts and prescriptions until she found her credit card.

The girl snatched it from her hand and slid it over her reader, tossing it back along with her receipt. ‘That all?’ she said.

‘Well, um,’ Cindy searched in her purse again and presented a twenty-dollar bill. She passed it over the counter toward the girl who stared at it. ‘Just a little something for your trouble.’ The girl made no move to take it. Cindy flushed. ‘Oh,’ said Cindy, ‘and this too.’ She found a ten and five and added it to the girl’s pile. The girl rolled her eyes and gathered it. Cindy smiled nervously. ‘Thank you,’ she said as if the girl had done her a favor by taking her money. She wanted to ensure the girl did not forget her. Jessica needed that racket. What was another $35? It was just 3-hours at Krogers. In total she would have to work 110 hours to pay off Eleanor’s bill. It was manageable. It was worth it.

She left the store and checked her phone as she walked. It was 9.15. Eleanor expected her at 10:00. She still had time, but she would have to be quick. She placed her phone in her purse and was not looking where she was going as she walked directly into the path of an oncoming shopper. A drink spilled and ice cubes scattered. Cindy backed away to see a woman with designer shopping bags over her forearm, clutching a now empty ice coffee. Her peach Amalfi tank top was covered in a wet stain as the coffee soaked into the expensive silk.

Cindy stared, horrified by what she had done. The woman stared through the darkness of her Versace sunglasses.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Cindy, bowing her head. ‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t-‘ She turned and ran. Tears welled in her eyes. She knew she was pathetic, running from her responsibility. She should have offered to pay for her dry cleaning but the thought of another bill terrified her. Besides, Eleanor expected her soon. She had not time to make amends for her clumsiness. Eleanor was her number 1 priority. She could not let her down no matter what.

*

Delicacé was the top-rated coffee shop in town. Cindy knew she could not bring Eleanor substandard coffee. For someone like Cindy, Starbucks was a luxury, but Eleanor would expect better. Cindy knew it would cost more, but that was fine. She could always work extra hours later to recoup her losses. It was far better than risk Eleanor thinking poorly of her.

There were a rainbow of cupcakes, freshly baked muffins, cookies, and cakes within the glass cabinets. The smells of dough, chocolate, and coffee were sumptuous and nostalgic. Cindy walked over the black and white diamond tiles and perused the selection as if they were Tiffany jewels. The barista stared at her from beneath her nose. Cindy flushed under her disdain and wondered if she had made a mistake in coming there.

‘May I help you?’ said the barista, curtly.

‘Um, yes, sorry, I would like three coffees please.’ Jessica and Alison had not technically asked for coffee, but she thought it best to be prepared, just in case.

The barista waited with her hands on her hips. Cindy wondered what she had done wrong. The barista sighed with frustration. ‘What coffees?’

Cindy gulped, realizing her mistake. She looked at the chalkboard. She recognized some of the names: Americano, Espresso, Mocha; but what was a Ristretto? Vienna? Con Panna? No prices were listed and Cindy knew enough to know that was not a good sign for her bank balance. What would they want? She wished she had their numbers to text and ask. But would that even have been acceptable? It never was in high school. Eleanor had expected Cindy to know what she wanted and to do it. Cindy doubted anything had changed.

‘Well?’ said the barista, impatiently.

She took a chance that Eleanor had been there before. ‘Um, I’m new to this.’

‘Clearly.’

Cindy flushed. ‘Well, I’m picking them up for someone else. You uh, don’t happen to know Eleanor Noble, do you?’

The barista brightened. ‘Oh, now I understand. You’re Eleanor’s new housekeeper?’

Cindy nodded and smiled. It was easier to play along.

‘Eleanor will have a Spanish latte. The girls usually take a honey vanilla latte and an Italian cappuccino.’

‘Yes, wonderful. Thank you.’

The barista started to prepare the coffees as Cindy remembered Alison’s juice. ‘Um, sorry to bother you again, but Miss Alison asked for juice?’

The barista turned back hatefully making Cindy feel awful for disturbing her work. ‘Do you mean a smoothie?’ she said

Cindy thought. She was sure Alison had said juice, but maybe she was wrong? Was a smoothie different from a juice? Had Alison meant to say smoothie? ‘Um, I think so?’

The barista shook her head. ‘You don’t know much, do you? How did you get this job again?’

Cindy smiled nervously and wrung her hands beneath the counter.

The barista rolled her eyes. ‘I recommend the strawberry, kiwi, and mango mix.’

‘That sounds delicious. Thank you.’

The barista got back to work and Cindy looked at the selection of muffins. She might have failed with the racket, but she could make up for it with a surprise. Of course, she couldn’t forget Alison. She would expect a treat too if her Sister was getting one. And how could she leave Eleanor out? No, all three of them deserved something sweet. She waited until the barista had finished her previous orders before asking for three blueberry muffins.

‘$95.35,’ said the barista, sliding the card reader at Cindy.

Cindy gulped at the price but reassured herself she could make it back. It was only around 9 hours of work. She entered her credit card and balked at the option for a tip. The barista stared coldly at her, waiting, expecting. 20% 30% 50% Other? Cindy was embarrassed to choose the lower option under the scrutiny of the barista. Her finger hovered over the 30% until at the last moment a tingle in her Pussy directed her to the highest option. Her total came to just over $143. The barista would net herself a good $47 for 5 minutes work. Not a bad hourly rate.

*

Cindy rang the buzzer outside the gilded gate that led to Eleanor’s mansion and waited for a response.

‘Yes?’ said Eleanor through the speaker.

Cindy felt the excitement of hearing her voice in the pit of her stomach. She waved happily at the camera. ‘Hi, Eleanor,’ she said, ‘I’ve brought treats.’

‘You’re late.’

Cindy felt her skin prickle. She had driven well over the speed limit to ensure she had arrived with time to spare. It was 9.45. She still had 15 minutes. She did not dare contradict her. She hung her head.

‘Anyway,’ continued Eleanor, ‘you can leave your car parked on the street. I don’t want to see that eye sore anywhere near my driveway.’

Cindy looked at the dents and dirt on her 2001 Ford Taurus and flushed with embarrassment. What had she been thinking? She could have at least washed it. Eleanor hung up before Cindy had a chance to apologize. A moment later the gate opened.

She reversed her car and backed up along the sidewalk that faced the tall hedgerows that blocked Eleanor’s compound from the street. She took the coffees, muffins and Alison’s smoothie from the front passenger seat and bumped her door closed with her bottom. It was a struggle to carry everything in two hands.

She headed up the driveway and the gate closed behind her as if on a timer. It was a long walk across the stone pavers. Either side of her were sweeping lawns of finely cut emerald grass that appeared plush enough to sleep on. It was a pleasant Spring Day and Cindy found herself enjoying the walk in the sunshine. Eleanor’s home looked like a luxurious Château in southern France and Cindy smiled as she imagined herself on vacation.

A spitting sound startled her daydream. The sprinklers had activated. They spurted spirals of crystal water and Cindy found herself in the cross fire. Instinctively, she ducked her body over the box of muffins and cradled the drinks to protect them from the water. She hurried away from the bombardment but the sprinklers seemed determined to spray her as each one seemingly activated just in time to catch her as she ran past them. She made it to the white marble steps that led up to Eleanor’s front porch completely drenched, but at least she had saved the coffees and muffins.

She remembered how Eleanor had wanted her to use the kitchen entrance and made her way there, wet and bedraggled. She wished she could stop and clean herself up, but there was no time. Eleanor was expecting her coffee. She checked her shoes would not trail water across Eleanor’s floor before gently knocking on the blurry glass of the kitchen door. She waited for someone to answer but when nobody did, she figured Eleanor expected her to let herself in. She gulped and opened the door.

She saw Eleanor and Jessica eating breakfast, sat across the second island There was fruit, healthy cereals, juice, glass bottled water and tea. She saw paper delivery bags. Cindy was disappointed Eleanor had ordered food instead of entrusting Cindy to bring her what she needed. She shook it off and gave them her happiest smile. Eleanor wore a long sleeve white cotton t-shirt with a modern boatneck that snugly extenuated her figure. Jessica wore a black scoop neck tank top and a loose fitting, short hipped white cardigan.

‘Good morning,’ said Cindy, cheerfully.

Jessica stared, hatefully chewing her all-bran cereal.

Eleanor glanced up from her phone. ‘Why are you wet?’

‘Um, I got hit with the sprinklers on my way here.’

Eleanor sighed and shook her head in exasperation. ‘Coffee?’

‘Oh yes, of course. It’s right here.’ She placed everything down on the marble countertop and placed the coffees in front of both Eleanor and Jessica. Eleanor picked hers up and took a sip, placing it back without complaint. Cindy smiled. It had been worth the added expense. Alison was nowhere in sight.

‘Um, Eleanor? Where’s Alison?’

‘It’s a school day.’

‘Oh, of course it is. Sorry. It’s just that I have a smoothie here for her?’

Eleanor returned to her phone disinterestedly.

‘Well, um, would you like it, Jessica?’

‘Do I fucking look like I want a smoothie?’

Cindy’s skin and Pussy tingled at the sudden outburst.

Jessica pointed at her coffee. ‘Do you even know what caffeine dose this is?’

Cindy stammered.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

‘Language, sweetie,’ said Eleanor.

‘Um,’ said Cindy, wringing her hands, ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

Jessica reddened with rage. ‘I only take 9.88 milligrams of caffeine in my coffee. That is the optimum amount to enhance my performance.’