Where They Belong - Chapter 8

Cindy assumed it must have been morning when the basement door opened again. Buried inside her hole, time had lost all sense of meaning. Real sleep had been impossible. The concrete floor was cold and hard, and each time she closed her eyes, the burning pain on her stomach returned as if to remind her she was unworthy of rest. She sometimes thought of her old bed in her old home. That lumpy mattress now seemed like the greatest luxury in the world. Not that she deserved it.

A single set of methodical steps headed down the stairs. The rhythmic echo of heels over concrete made Cindy hold her breath and dare to hope her goddess had returned.

The overhead light on the ceiling directly above her cage door turned on to cast the divine form of Eleanor before her. She was like a dark angel sent down from heaven to save her. For a brief second, Cindy thought she saw celestial, black feathered wings extending from Eleanor’s back.

She wore high-waist nappa leather pants and a black, long-sleeve bodysuit that tightly embraced her feminine curves. A golden Chanel logo was elegantly situated over her breast, showcasing the quality of the fabric. Her powerful style was complemented by quilted, shiny goatskin Chanel ankle boots, gold hoop earrings, a Rolex with diamond-encrusted dials, and of course, the key to Cindy’s chastity cage dangling on a chain over her proud bosom.

Her goddess looked so incredible, that Cindy felt like crying. Her pussy tingled and her stomach knotted. For all the torture she had suffered since dropping that coin, missing out on the chance to run Eleanor’s bath, dab her tanned skin with a fluffy towel, and rub her in oil, was her biggest regret yet.

Eleanor rested her knuckles on her hips and pouted down at Cindy in amusement. “Lazy girl,” she said teasingly, “time to get up. While you’ve been having a luxurious lie-in, your daughter’s been up preparing our breakfast.”

“S-sorry, Goddess,” she said, through a painfully dry mouth. Her last drink had been Alison’s pee.

Eleanor would of course never know what it was like to spend the night in a cold, dark hole, with concrete as her mattress, and her arms restrained behind her back in leather. Nor would she know the torture of an inflatable plug inserted into her asshole and a stainless steel cage over her pussy. And nor should she. Eleanor deserved to be forever surrounded by every comfort and luxury in life. Cindy’s experience in the hole had motivated her to strive harder than ever to ensure her goddess never suffered even the slightest of discomforts, in this life or the next.

Eleanor crouched to unlock the cage door and grabbed Cindy’s leash, giving it a tug.

Cindy struggled to sit up without the use of her hands and came at eye level with the golden Chanel logo on Eleanor’s boots. She looked up at her goddess, doe-eyed.

Eleanor smiled and nodded.

Cindy whimpered and immediately started to kiss the exquisite goatskin.

Eleanor was always so perfectly accessorized. Cindy wondered how she chose what to wear with so many choices at her disposal. It would be overwhelming for Cindy to even begin to pick outfits from Eleanor’s fully stocked walk-in closet. Back when she was allowed to wear clothes, her wardrobe consisted of off-the-rack clothing that in most cases were over a decade old.

She was glad her goddess had taken the burden of choosing clothes away from her. She had always been terrible at creating outfits, and her skinny, boyish body had made it impossible for her to find anything she could look sexy in.

Even if Cindy somehow ended up with Eleanor’s millions, she could never hope to look as good as her goddess. Eleanor’s beauty and style was a true talent. She always looked amazing and made it seem so effortless and natural.

Of course, Cindy knew there was nothing effortless about it. Reaching Eleanor’s level required time, and discipline, as well as money and genetic superiority. Eleanor could not just cheat and eat a greasy cheeseburger or a tub of ice cream whenever she liked. Hers was a hardcore diet of organic, healthy nutrients, and the finest produce. She maintained a strict cardio and strength regimen personalized to optimize her individual body type, and she used more facial and skin products than Cindy could name.

Cindy couldn’t imagine the pressure her goddess was under. Cindy had it easy. Nobody would think twice if she woke up with a zit on her face, or if she gained or lost a couple of pounds, or wore an unflattering outfit, or styled an unfashionable brand.

It was far more than simple genetics that made the beautiful beautiful. Their willpower was far greater than that of the plain or ugly. It was just one more reason why they were better people. And the best person in the whole world was Eleanor.

If torturing and humiliating Cindy was an outlet for Eleanor’s stress, then Cindy was delighted to be of service to her.

Eleanor rose to her feet, pulling Cindy’s leash, and choking her collar.

Cindy gagged and clambered out of the hole to try and ease the pressure on her throat. Once free from the cage, she kneeled on the floor, eyeing the shine in Eleanor’s boots.

Eleanor chuckled and lightly kicked her toe against the cellophane wrapped around Cindy’s stomach. Cindy winced.

“How does it feel?”

“Um, a little painful, G-Goddess.”

Eleanor pouted a smirk. “It’s starting to scar nicely. We’d better change your wrapping and apply some more aloe vera.”

Cindy blushed and smiled, overwhelmed by love.

Eleanor continued. “You’ve far too many chores to risk getting sick. I don’t want any excuses for shoddy work.”

Cindy wouldn’t dare.

*

Cindy, now free from her restraints, scampered like Gollum on her leash as Eleanor led her to the kitchen.

All across the table were zucchini bundles topped with pesto-yogurt and egg; crispy potatoes mixed with scrambled eggs, creamy avocado, and crispy bacon; crustless quiche slices with individual cheese; and mixed berry smoothies - creamy and vibrant in color. The salivating scent made her stomach grumble. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning when she and Sarah had shared some dry oatmeal.

It was hard to believe Sarah had prepared this feast all alone. She must have been working on it since the early hours. Cindy knew this was far better than she could have managed. The influence of Eleanor and her daughters was clearly leading Sarah to strive for nothing less than perfection, just as it had for Cindy.

Sarah was still naked aside from her own collar and leash. Her bare pussy glistened mockingly. As she laid a plate of freshly baked cinnamon bites on the table, she looked down at her mother, scampering over the floor, with a sneer.

Cindy blushed. Did her daughter really hate her that much? Cindy knew she had messed up, but was there no hint of sympathy for what she had endured? The scar on her stomach was plain to see. Didn’t she care at all?

Everyone was there, sitting around the table, enjoying their breakfast.

Jessica and Kaylee were dressed in super soft matte-creme hoodies. Jessica had one foot resting on her chair, showing her pure white, custom air Jordans. The bottoms of her Nike sweatpant joggers were tucked into her sports socks.

On the opposite end of the table was Alison, wearing distressed joggers and a cut-out racerback, sculpted-fit, sports bra. Her nipples showed beneath the stretchy, peach material.

Her friends sat on either side of her. Lucy wore a crew-neck long-sleeve shoulderless sweater and knee-high socks while Melanie had opted for distressed overall short shorts, unpinned to reveal a Balenciaga tank top beneath.

Emily was noticeable by her absence. Cindy hoped she was okay. The story of Molly was still fresh in her mind. The way Alison had dragged Emily away by her hair suggested she had suffered a long night.

The teens all stopped eating so they could point and laugh at the miserable figure of Cindy with the pump to her butt plug scaping over the marble like a dog tail. Eleanor chuckled along with their youthful enthusiasm as she took her place at the head of the table, tugging Cindy along to come kneel by her feet.

Cindy could only imagine the thoughts running through their teenage minds at seeing her so humiliated. It no doubt served to reinforce in their impressionable minds that some people deserved to be bullied and abused. Cindy was in no position to argue otherwise.

Sarah smiled serenely as she poured green tea from an antique Ming teapot into Eleanor’s cup, and used a stainless steel pie slicer to lay a piece of quiche on her plate.

Cindy watched, flushed with jealousy. It wasn’t fair. She was the one who should have been serving her goddess, not Sarah.

“Hey,” said Jessica, punching Sarah’s hip. “Give your mom her breakfast too.”

Sarah curtsied and walked to the counter to retrieve a silver dog bowl. She smiled scornfully as she squatted to place it on the floor under Cindy’s nose. Everyone snickered.

Cindy looked sadly down at the sloppy, brown oatmeal. It was like a bowl of lumpy vomit and smelled like it too. She suspected Sarah had added some extra surprises. Maybe dry skin or spit?

Alison giggled. “Aren’t you going to thank her, loser?”

Everyone was clearly enjoying her degradation, especially Eleanor who crossed her legs and rested her elbow on the back of her seat, dangling her wrist to show off her expensive Rolex and manicure. A large white smile was fixed on her beautiful face.

“Th-thank you,” mumbled Cindy weakly.

Eleanor yanked her leash and choked her collar.  “Oh come now, Cindy,” she said. “You can do better than that.”

Lucy smirked. “Kiss her feet.”

Her suggestion was met with enthusiastic laughter and agreement.

Sarah played along, wiggling her bare toes expectantly. Cindy looked up, hoping for some hint of sympathy, some glimmer of Sarah’s old self, but her daughter only stared back with disgust.

Eleanor relaxed her leash to give Cindy room to crawl forward. “Go on then,” she said, chuckling.

Cindy shuffled on her knees over her dog bowl and slowly lowered her face to her daughter’s feet. They smelled like toenails, not at all like the luxurious lotions she inhaled from Eleanor and her daughters’ feet. She winced at the stench before forcing herself to place kisses on each of Sarah's toes, going across them like piano keys. Tears formed in her eyes.

Alison bounced excitedly on her seat. “Lick between her toes too!”

Cindy sniffled and stuck out her tongue to scrape the dead skin and sweat from between the cracks in her daughter’s toes.

Eleanor reached for the pump to Cindy’s butt plug and squeezed it in her hand to fill Cindy’s asshole. Everyone laughed even harder.

Cindy whimpered and squirmed at the intense stimulation on her A-spot. Arousal moistened her locked pussy. She knew how wrong it was. These were her own daughter's feet. They weren’t even attractive. Even so, her hand wandered to her chastity where she drummed her fingers hopelessly against the mesh.

Alison practically screamed in delight. “Oh my god! Look! She’s getting turned on.”

There was a chorus of “ewwwww” followed by more intense laughter from around the table.

Eleanor was slightly breathless as she wiped a single tear of joy from the corner of her eye with her knuckle. “Okay,” she said, “that’s enough. Let her eat.”

Cindy gave Sarah’s toes one last kiss before backing up on all fours back to her dog bowl. She dared not look up at Sarah’s face. She knew this degradation had utterly destroyed any faint respect Sarah may have still retained for the woman who birthed and raised her.

“Go on,” said Eleanor, wrapping Cindy’s leash around her forearm. “You need to eat”

Cindy knew it. She was so weak. She needed sustenance or she risked collapsing and blacking out. What use would she be to her goddess then?

Slowly, she directed her face into the bowl and lapped up the slop with her tongue. She gagged at the first mouthful of the tasteless, brown,  watery substance. Her own tears dripped into the mixture. She hoped it might give it a slight hint of salt.

“Hey, Sarah?” said Alison. “What do you think of your mom?”

Everyone snickered at the question, staring at Sarah expectantly.

Sarah shrugged. “I think she’s the most pathetic creature in the world, Miss.”

Her response was greeted by laughter.

Kaylee’s question was next. “Don’t you hate her?”

“Yes,” said Sarah without hesitation, “I do.”

Her answer brought high fives from the superior teens while Cindy sobbed helplessly into her dog bowl. This was the girl she had breastfed, drove to school, helped with her homework, and hugged when she came home from school upset at what her bullies had done to her that day. Sarah was now reveling in their cruelty. She was enjoying seeing her mother like this. It was too awful.

Eleanor pouted her amusement. “Poor Cindy. Not even your own daughter loves you.”

Cindy nodded into her bowl, grateful she could hide her face. Someone like her did not deserve to be seen by anyone ever.

Eleanor was seemingly in agreement as she lifted her foot and pressed the sole of her Chanel boot against the back of Cindy’s head, pushing her face deeper into her bowl, and resting her boot there indifferently as everyone’s attention turned to more important things than mocking Cindy’s sad little life.

Eleanor asked the girls lots of questions about their future. Lucy and Melanie would attend the most prestigious academic institutions, and then land the highest-paid jobs after graduation. They talked about their success as an inevitability. Their confidence and entitlement were qualities Cindy had to admire.

She thought of herself at eighteen. She had only viewed her future with stress and anxiety. She had sabotaged any chance of a successful career back in high school to ensure Eleanor achieved her own dreams. Not that she regretted her decision. Eleanor had gone far beyond what Cindy had ever felt possible.

Eleanor took a delicate sip of tea and smiled. “And how prepared do you feel for your induction, Lucy?”

Lucy shrugged. “My mom’s been showing me some things. I’ve been practicing on my cousin. I’ve totally manipulated her into being my doting simp.”

Alison giggled. “It’s so funny, mom. We bully her all the time for being so poor and ugly and she worships us for it.”

Lucy smirked. “Well, we aren’t allowed to go too far with her yet. Her mom, my aunt, doesn’t know what we’re doing yet. But my mom has plans for that after graduation.”

Eleanor nodded. “Gael has been systematically crushing your aunt’s spirit for as long as I’ve known her. She’s simply been waiting until you and your cousin came of age to finally claim her soul for Mother Isis.”

Lucy beamed with pride.

“You know,” continued Eleanor, “we should all get together soon. I’ll be tutoring Kaylee and Alison anyway. It’ll be fun to have you and Gael with us.”

“I’d love to!”

“And what about you, Melanie? You’re welcome to join us.”

Melanie sighed and sulkily poked her zucchini. “Miss Keller says I’m not ready yet.”

Lucy stroked her friend’s arm reassuringly.

Melanie shook her head. “It’s not fair. I wanted to be inducted this year too.”

“Oh, you sweet girl,” said Eleanor kindly, “I know it’s hard. But you have to trust the process. Your time will come. We can all see you’ve been blessed by Mother Isis. Unfortunately, it can take a little longer for some for their fires to fully awaken. Look at me. I wasn’t inducted until after college. Can you believe that?”

Melanie blinked at her. “Really? You?”

Eleanor smiled and nodded.

Kaylee’s empathy for Melanie shone bright in her pretty eyes. “You don’t have to feel bad, Melanie. I’m actually glad I wasn’t chosen straight out of high school. I needed that extra time to develop my power.”

“Exactly,” said Eleanor. “Mother Isis has plans for all her daughters. Trust in her divine wisdom. She knows what is best for us.”

There was a group chant in unison that sent a shiver of dread down Cindy’s spine. “Praise be Mother Isis, Queen of Heaven and the Cosmos.”

Eleanor continued. “And Lori Keller is one of the best teachers around. She’s been a priestess since before you were born. She knows what she’s doing. I know it can be frustrating but trust the process. Everything will be as it should.”

Melanie nodded. “I know. I just don’t want to get left behind.”

Alison and Lucy quickly promised that would never happen, reassuring their friend so sweetly, and with such human empathy, that Cindy wondered if they could really be the same cruel girls that reveled in their selfishness and entitlement.

“Oh sweetie,” said Eleanor, “you mustn’t think like that. We’re a sisterhood. We love and support each other. Mother Isis sees all her daughters as equal. Our journeys to divinity are all different. Some of my dearest friends, like Carla, weren’t selected for induction until their mid-twenties.” She shrugged. “I was twenty-one.”

Melanie smiled appreciatively.

“Here,” said Eleanor, reaching back down for Cindy’s pump and handing it to Melanie. “This will make you feel better,”

Melanie immediately brightened as she started to squeeze, blowing air through the tube to over-inflate Cindy’s butt plug.

Eleanor still rested the sole of her boot on the back of Cindy’s head to fully submerge her in the slop. Cindy whimpered into her dog bowl, squirming, as the expanding plug widened her ass cheeks and rubbed against her nerves, transporting her into a state of mini ecstasy, all the while she choked on her oatmeal.

Everyone had a great laugh at her expense, especially Melanie.

For Cindy, she felt strangely happy that her suffering was making Melanie feel better about herself. It was as if she was fulfilling the role Mother Isis demanded of her.

She was more aware than ever of her place in the universe. The sacrifice of Cindy, and all those other submissive women, enabled the Daughters of Isis to take out their stresses on them. Knowing there were weaker women to hurt and exploit, allowed them to be truly nurturing and loving with each other. Why would they turn on each other when there were so many easier targets to enjoy?

It all made sense. Cindy and her kind suffered so their superiors could thrive. Cindy knew then that she had truly discovered her divine purpose. The meaning of her life was to be an object for superior women to use to make their own lives even better. It was a beautiful thing.