Lap of Luxury: A vanillathunder Short Story

 Do the costs outweigh the benefits?

I took one last look towards the mansion I’d spent the last two years living in. Certainly it hasn't been all bad, living in the lap of luxury has its perks, but the costs far outstrip the benefits in this situation. I’d been out of college for a year, working a data-entry job to make ends meet and repay my student loans when my Mom died, and even with whatever I got from her life insurance, selling my childhood home, and her savings, I barely broke even after the funeral. I was trolling through online job boards to pick up extra income when I saw a job for an assistant to this old, rich, eccentric billionaire that paid so well, I’d only have to work one job to pay all my bills. Sitting through the interview was weird, the guy didn’t seem altogether there, the butler ended up doing most of the talking, the old guy just kept staring at me. When the interview ended, I was told that I didn’t have the qualifications they were looking for in an assistant, and I prepared to leave, crestfallen, but then the billionaire, Mr. Schuyler told me that I was perfect for another job opening he had.

I was desperate and only barely glanced at the contract before signing it, something about a live-in position. I figured it was like a home-care nurse, I didn’t know much, but I could definitely learn. Which is why I wasn’t paying attention when the head maid stuck a syringe in my neck. I woke up later with my body shaved and prosthetic breasts stuck to my body. Though strangely enough my manhood was still intact, although locked behind a cage.

“What’s going on?”

“Didn’t you read the contract? Mr. Schuyler is quite taken with you, but since your job qualifications aren’t up to snuff, he’s offered you an alternate position. His new wife.”

“Wife?! But I’m a man!”

Sure, I’d had delicate features my whole life, but why would this rich man who could clearly have any woman in the world, want a twenty-something man as his wife? Soon, all my questions were answered, Mr. Schuyler… David, he had unconventional tastes, and all his many wives had once been normal men like me. Of course, the age difference would be an issue even if I really was a woman, but David explained to me that at his age, it wasn’t about a physical relationship anymore, he just wanted to be accompanied by a pretty young man but as a traditionalist of sorts, he needed his partner to look like the world expected them to look. Which meant appearing to be a glamorous young woman, immaculate makeup, perfectly styled hair and delicately manicured nails, along with the most expensive outfits I’d ever seen. But of course, all my objections were moot, I’d signed the contract and I was going to be stuck there, not as Miles but as Mrs. Miranda Schuyler, for at least five years. I fought it at first, but eventually I settled into my life as a trophy wife, and apart from my distaste of the whole situation, I was treated very well. Good food, David always bought me gifts, I was living in the lap of luxury. I still hated it, but I wasn’t entirely miserable.

I mostly made friends with the servants, David doesn’t have many friends of his own who are still alive and I have nothing in common with the other wives, who don’t seem to like me much. Maybe they’re still bothered by the last divorce. The real problem is, despite all this, David clearly loves me, or at least the me he’s created in Miranda, which is how I was able to get him to agree to void the contract early and let me leave. I told him how miserable I was, and he promised to do whatever it took to make me happy again. Whether I would remain as Miranda after I left was up to me, everything was removable, and I’d had the cage removed before I left, but I didn’t own a stitch of male clothing and only had a car and some money that David gave me to secure a place to live.

“I hope you’ll return one day, but if you don’t, and something happens to me, I want you to know that I’m leaving it all to you.”

“You don’t have to,”

“No, but I want to. You deserve it, for making an old man happy for a short time.



But he told me before he left that he probably wasn’t long for this world, and if anything were to happen to him, he’d leave the fortune to Miranda. As I prepared to drive off, I considered what lay ahead for me. I’d need to find a new job, my old clothes were in storage but they’ll hardly fit, not after the special diet I’ve been on, and the only people with whom I’d had contact with for two years would be gone. Well, if my contract was voided, I could leave whenever I wanted. Didn’t necessarily have to be today, right?

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