A Collection of Short Stories

The Mistress

"I'm Getting really tired of pretending im not evil"

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Scarlet scars the ivory rug that lay before the Mistress. Her hand does not quiver as it hasn't for years. Instead, it hovers over the table as she mindlessly searches and finds the cherry flavored Champagne, which had always been the drink of victories and champions alike in her family. As the glass glides against her soft lips the Mistress cannot help herself but to pull into a sickly smile and a manic laugh that rose from her stomach and out of her lungs.  

She wished she was not this way. Her mind often tried to devour her dream of loving someone so deeply and unforgivably that she would spend her life trying to impress them.  How easy things would be if she had never gotten this thirst. 

To her, this monthly event was like any other craving . Often , before she could process what her actions were, the men and woman she brought to her room were kissing her neck, dying to sleep with her and be with her in a way that made them feel a little more significant then what they really were.

From time to time she would attempt to warn them of her, picking them up at bars and clubs alike with the same sad line.

"You know, I'm really getting tired of pretending im not evil".

Always a little flirty and never a lie. They all believed it was a little joke, a secret to be shared from her lips to theirs. 

"Its not to late if you want to leave yet" she would mumble as their hands went between her thighs or their knuckles wrapped around her tanned neck and honey dyed hair.

Yet they would all stay until the end. The climax. Their death. 

After admiring her work and cleaning her mess the way she had learned so long ago , the Mistress with the sad line would take off to another city with the same thirst, and a new victim.