Victoria Brennemar stood in her well-appointed bedroom, taking one last look in her floor length mirror. Victoria, 24, was the sole heir to one of the largest fortunes in the world, the Brennemar Furniture Empire. Her father, Bruce, had passed away suddenly from a heart attack eight months earlier. Victoria had inherited her fathers fortune, which consisted of her father's company, stock options, cash, multiple homes, car collections, and priceless objects of art and antiquity. All told, the empire came close to four billion dollars.
Victoria had always lived a life of privilege. Private tutors, the best schools, servants, the finest things in life. She was always at the top of society's 'A-List' guests. Everyone wanted to be close to her due to her money and access.
However, things were not as charmed as they seemed on the surface. Victoria was too heavy-set to be considered a true beauty. Her pale skin and blonde hair made her appear washed out. She knew she was the object of snickers by the 'beautiful people' of upper-crust society. They'd cozy up to her and pretend to be her friend due to her money and access, however they'd always make jokes at her expense when she wasn't around. She knew this. This led to a deep insecurity.
Victoria's self-image was not positive. She hated her appearance. Though not "fat," she was a larger woman and she was not tall, which made her weight even more unfortunate. And she knew that she was no beauty, even with the weight. Despite all her advantages and her wealth, she always thought of herself as less-fortunate due to her appearance.
Victoria also had secrets. Dark, forbidden secrets. Fantasies. Desires. Desires she knew were taboo. She had tried for years to deny them. In this, she had failed.
Victoria had every monetary advantage. This, however, turned out to be the ultimate irony, which will be described later. For as she lay in bed at night seeking sleep, her thoughts would drift and her feelings would stir. Her fantasies would flood her thoughts and as she lay there, writhing and pushing herself to the edge of climax, her plan began to form.
Eight Months Earlier
After the funeral of her father, Victoria returned by limousine to her penthouse on the Upper East Side of New York. With it's magnificent view of Central Park, the 1902 building was "the" address in New York. The doorman doffed his hat demurely as she slid past, in her Valentino Funeral Dress and Matching pumps, black stockings, and almost $800,000 worth of jewelry. She escaped the cold November wind by stepping into the fashionable lobby, as her personal assistant Bryce took her coat and called for her elevator. It occurred to Victoria that she had never actually pushed the button to summon an elevator herself, as there had always been a servant to do that. For a moment she let that thought linger. Soon, the chime of the elevator indicated its arrival and the elevator operator appeared inside and offered her a warm hello and his condolences regarding the death of her father. She thanked him and then began to step inside. Suddenly, she stopped. She couldn't go upstairs. She didn't want to. She wasn't ready to face all that lay ahead taking over a multi-billion dollar empire.
"Ms. Brennemar, are you okay, Miss?" asked her assistant, Bryce. "Um, yes, but, but...I'm not going upstairs now. I, I want to take a walk." She turned and started for the door. The doorman cautioned her "Ma'am, it's rather chilly and dark out. May I call your chauffeur to drive you somewhere instead?"
"No", replied Victoria. I really do want to walk. I'll be back."
The assistant, the doorman and the elevator operator exchanged quick glances. Bryce spoke up. "With respect, Miss Brennemar, it's dark and you're wearing a lot of very expensive jewelry. Even in this neighborhood, as nice as it is, you should at least let me go with you."
"No Bryce" Victoria replied, "I just need time and air. I'll be back later."
With that, Victoria walked past the doorman and out into the cold November air. It was almost dark and there was a very faint drizzle. Victoria pulled the collar of her coat up and went on her way.
Victoria had no particular place in mind. She walked, she wandered. She turned down this street and that. Soon, she had gone several blocks and realized she wasn't 100% sure where she was. However, he could see many familiar tall buildings in the distance and comforted herself knowing she could use them as a point of reference to get home. It also occurred to her she was hungry, having last eaten a muffin at the wake earlier that day. Two blocks later, she saw a small Diner on a corner. It looked safe enough, she was hungry, and she was tired. She walked in.
It was a decent diner as diners go, clean enough. Not luxurious by any means, or even somewhere that Victoria would have ever gone before. But this appealed to Victoria. Its tile floors and pale green walls dim from time and grime. The fluorescent lights cast glare on the framed posters of figures such as Elvis and James Dean. Victoria felt the coldness of the vinyl booth against her stockinged legs as she slid in. She sat her purse in the booth next to her, picked up a menu from the stand next to the napkin dispenser, and waited to be served. These were the last moments before Victoria's life changed----forever.
"What'll ya have?" The words hit Victoria's ears and it took a moment for her to process that someone was speaking to her. Victoria looked up from her menu. Before her stood the woman that would change her life. Victoria looked up and saw the most incredible woman she had ever seen. Her waitress----this Goddess---Good God she was breathtaking. It took a moment for Victoria to process this angel in front of her. Victoria's mouth went dry and she suddenly couldn't think.
"Ya want something to eat or what?" the waitress asked again, looking somewhat annoyed.
"Um, um, I'd like....um, can I get coffee? A coffee."
"Coffee. What else?" the waitress asked.
"Um, I'm, well....a sandwich. Sandwich. Yes, sandwich." Victoria clumsily replied.
"What kind of sandwich?" the waitress asked, looking at her watch, impatiently.
"I, um....I don't....can you choose?" Victoria asked.
"You want me to choose your sandwich?" the waitress replied, incredulously.
"Yes, yes ma'am, please. I, I don't know what's good here." Victoria stated.
"Fine, how about a BLT on toast? Good?" the waitress asked.
"Um, yes Ma'am, that will be fine." Victoria replied, demurely.
"Fine, give me a few." the waitress said, scribbling the order on her pad, rolling her eyes and then walking away.
Victoria watched her walk away. She was perfect. Tall, probably 5'9 or 5'10, perfect figure. Her white skin was flawless and her light brown hair framed her face perfectly. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She had amazing brown-green eyes. She was stunning. She wore a gold waitress uniform, tan stockings and white sneakers. She had an incredible figure that Victoria admired as the waitress walked away. Victoria picked up a whiff of perfume, barely detectable over the smells of coffee, fried eggs and bacon.
Victoria had seen many beautiful women in her day and had secretly admired them. She had been to fashion shows where some of the world's most beautiful models showed off expensive designer dresses that this waitress could never afford. But there was something about this waitress. She was stunning--absolutely stunning---but there was something else. There was an attitude. The waitress plainly didn't want to be there, and more than likely felt what she was doing was beneath her. Victoria was smitten. Victoria felt like she couldn't breathe.
"Here's your coffee." the waitress said.
"What's your name?" Victoria asked, immediately feeling foolish as the waitress was clearly wearing a nametag.
The waitress gave her a "are you that stupid" look and pointed to the nametag. Kristy. This goddess was named Kristy.
"I'll be back with the sandwich." Kristy said.
Victoria sat there kicking herself. She was sure the waitress felt she was a complete idiot. She had all but said it--with her eyes. She liked to roll her eyes.
Kristy returned with the sandwich. "One BLT with mayo", Kristy said.
Victoria, without even thinking, replied "Oh I don't like mayo." She immediately wished she could take it back.
