Friday Eve Snippet

Oh look, it’s my turn again. Now what can I show you this week? I know something I’ve been playing with lately, I’m thinking of diving into this one and getting it finished. It’s in first person which isn’t my usual thing but I’m liking it so far. It’s unedited and unpolished.

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I’ve never been one to apologize for what I do or who I am.

Never let what others think worry me.

I live a life of luxury. I have everything that money can buy but never have I done a day’s work. I’ve never needed to.

Everything I have and everything I am is because of my men. They shower me with gifts of all kinds; clothes, cars, jewelry, even the exotic holidays I take. I’m a mistress. Only I’m not like any you’ve ever heard about. I’m not kept by one man.

I’m kept by many.

The number varies from time to time but there’s never been less than four. Most are married, some are single, but all are rich. It just wouldn’t work any other way. I give each of them something different. All come to me for things they can’t get at home, which is fine because I don’t do things they’d get at home; like washing.

They take me to fancy restaurants and shows, but the high light would be the parties, all the ‘in’ parties with all the who’s who of the social scene. I thrive on the parties.

It’s where my men find me.

Or should I say where I find them.

I’m often asked by one of them to host a party and it never fails to amaze me how the wives’ talk to me and socialize with me like I’m one of their own. They all know who I am. What I do.

It’s almost like they know they can never get rid of me so rather than making my life, and theirs, hell they choose to take the high road. Acting like it’s normal to be friends with the mistress that serves or has served most of their husbands.

See that’s their problem, I’ve been around longer than most of them. I’ve been a part of this social scene since before I could walk. You see I’ve follow in my mother’s footsteps. The one thing I haven’t done, and won’t do, is get pregnant by one of my men to keep my lifestyle.

Those are the circumstances of my birth. Mother decided to insure her lavish life by having me. And she did, my father was one of the wealthiest men in the country. He was also very married with children. When he died he left me a small amount of money, well small by the standards of this group; large by the average person’s definition.

I bought my house with the money, giving myself a small amount of freedom from my men, just enough to let them know that I really don’t need them. It’s amazing how quickly a man will come running when he thinks you no longer need him.

They vary in age, my men, from their early thirties to their late fifties; they all have one thing in common besides money.

Lust.

They all lust after what I offer. None of them love me. And that’s a good thing; I could never return their love. I wouldn’t know how.

My mother lived the life of luxury in the same way I do, only she took it one step further, producing a child by one of the richest men in the country afforded her a far greater life of luxury. He bought her silence and my comfort with money. Lots of money.

I have siblings that I see because we travel in the same circles but other than that we don’t have any contact. They know who I am and what my mother did to their mother. You see my mother couldn’t leave it alone once she secured her future. No, she had to rub it in, continuously remind everyone around her, and me, what she’d done.

When I was born my mother named me for the sin that befell my father. My name is Luxuria. Lux for short.

My father’s wife never forgave him for what he’d put their family through. And she couldn’t live with the fact that even with what my mother had done he continued to see her. My step-mother, if that’s what I can call her, slowly went out of her mind.

Never, even when my father’s wife fell apart and took her own life, did I think about the way my mother’s choices affected everyone around her. Like a stone dropped into a pond, the ripples moving away from the point of entry. I’d never really thought about my life or my mother’s in that way. Never thought about what it is we do. What we are. What it does to others.

Until today.

Until him.

COPYRIGHT © RHIAN CAHILL 2010

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So what do you think? Should I keep going?

Rhian