A New Life

y name is Jonathan West, but everyone except for my father calls me Johnny. My life has been one of privilege, but also one of subjugation. Both of which were a direct result of my father. You see I was born into the rich, socialite life of Connecticut and Massachusetts. My father, David West, came from old money and I was constantly surrounded by people who were raised to believe that they were better than everyone else. I never liked being around these kinds of people. I could remember how I would hangout and talk with a lot of the staff of the many country clubs and night clubs that I was dragged to, all my life. These were the kind of people I preferred to hang around, not the phonies who thought they were better than everyone else. I remember when I was eleven years old we had a grounds keeper, named Fred, at our estate. He would tend to all our maintenance problems. He was in his fifties and I though he was the coolest guy on earth. He could fix anything cars, pluming, windows, wiring, anything. He was the only guy I had ever met, who knew how to do that. I use to be his shadow when he was working and I would ask him none stop questions, about what he was doing. He was a really nice guy and always answered them in a friendly manner. I think that he admired the fact, that someone from my world, actually wanted to learn how to do things on their own. I was an only child, so it was just my parents and me, living in our house. My father was much older than my mother and my father only married my mother, Clarissa, so he could have a younger trophy wife. My mother was nineteen and my father was thirty five when, they were married. But I was not born until my mother was twenty six. Growing up I never really saw my father that much, but that was how I preferred it. My mother didn't work, I don't think my father wanted her too. So before I came along, she spent her days alone. She did not come from the blueblood society, that my father was born into. My father meet her when she was witnessing at his country club. I didn't find out till I was in my teens, how their relationship came to be. My mother was from a very poor family, that had kicked her out of the house when she was eighteen. She was fortunate enough to land a job, as a waitress at my father's country club. There she was a very popular waitress, among the male club members. My mother was incredibly beautiful and these were men who were use to getting everything that they wanted. She was constantly hit on and sexually harassed, by the male club members. But my mom was a smart person and she realized that, all they wanted to do was use her. She had no intentions of becoming the next victim of their greed and egotism. It soon became a private competition among the older members, to see which one of them could finally score with my mother. That is where my father came in. He was one of the oldest, unmarried club members. He realized that his image was starting to be effected by his singleness and needed to find a wife soon. So he decided to make my mother an offer. He knew that my mother would never agree to be a one night stand, but maybe she wouldn't mind becoming the wife of a rich socialite. He laid it all out in front of her. He told her he didn't love her, he never would, and he would never be faithful to her. But in return for marrying him, he would give her security. She would no longer have to worry about money or how she was going to survive. My mother didn't love the idea but she realized, that practically speaking, she had been given the best deal she was ever going to get. She was close to becoming evicted from her apartment and she knew this could be a change to find some kind of security. So they were married in a small private ceremony. My mother gained security for as long as their marriage lasted. My father gained the jealously of his peers, for landing the woman they all wanted. My mother lived her married life, very much alone. Her husband had no real interest in her. None of the other women in her new social seen, would have anything to do with her. So my mother was left all alone in her house, trying to keep herself occupied. Fifteen years went by, with my father barely touching my mother. Then one day my father came to her and told her that he wanted to have a child. At first my mother thought that maybe he was finally starting to realize, that money and his reputation wasn't everything. But he dashed her hopes when he told her that he wanted a male heir, that could carry on his name. By this point my mother realized, that what my father wanted, he got. It took them a year and many doctor's visits, but finally my mother became pregnant. My mother was a very healthy woman and had a smooth pregnancy. I was born a healthy baby boy. My father was pleased with himself, everything was working out great for him. After I was born, my father had my mother get her tubes tied. He figured he didn't need anymore children and he wasn't willing to have an operation himself. Where most kids in my society were raised by a nanny, I was raised by my mother. She was determined that her child was not going to be raised in a loveless home, like all those around her. I loved my mother very much and we had a great relationship. We talked about everything and I felt like I could go to my mother with any problem that I had. When I was twelve years old I became very aware that my mother and father had a very distant relationship. I asked her about it. She was reluctant at first, but felt that I would be able to figure out the truth, eventually. She told me most of the story how she was a trophy wife and how my father didn't really love her. She tried to convince me that my father did, however, love me. I knew the truth but didn't let her know that. I didn't want her to worry about me. I preferred the company of my mother more than anyone else, especially the other boys in my society. I hated hanging out with them, but my father insisted that I do so. He didn't want people to think I was some kind of antisocial weirdo. The only reasons why any of the other boys wanted to hang around me, was because of my mother. To cope with the loneliness of her marriage, she had become really into fitness and nutrition. Even in her late thirties and early forties she was drop dead gorgeous. I always thought my mother was the most beautiful woman on the planet. I figure that most boys think this, about their mothers. But I think I was one of the few, who was pretty close to being right. My mother had very dark brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. The contrast these two made, was brilliant. She had a beautiful face that was always smiling when I was around. Her body was sculpted to perfection. She was skinny but not slim. She had a nice curvy, full body. But there was no sign of sag or cellulite anywhere on her body. She had large D cup breast, that my father had insisted she get. Fortunately he paid for the best possible doctor. Her plastic surgeon really knew what he was doing and gave her well shape, large breast, that had no stretch marks or scars. She kept a deep bronze tan, that really went well with her hair. My father was pleased with all this, because it continued to provoke the jealous of his piers. My father loved to parade her around in skimpy outfits at parties. Silently bragging about how he had scored the one they all wanted. Most of my father's piers constantly tried to seduce my mother. They were still determined to sleep with my mother. But my mother wasn't stupid enough to risk my father anger, by cheating on him. It wasn't just the adults that wanted to sleep with my mother. I was constantly surrounded by guys my own age, who would make crude comments about my mother. Once when I was thirteen, at a party, I heard a kid make a comment about my mother's breast. Without thinking I ran over and decked him in the face. He went flying backwards, but his friends quickly pounced on top of me and beat the living crap out of me. My father was furious, that I caused a scene. He was even more furious, that I had lost a fight to his friend's sons. I had an idea, I convinced that him to sign me up for boxing lessons. He agreed and I begun to practice like a kid obsessed. I worked the ring, heavy bag, focus mits, and weights like crazy. I was determined to never again fail to defend my mother's honor and I never did. I beat the crap out of every kid who ever made a comment about my mother. Soon all the boys learned not to make any comments about her, in ear shot of me. My father was happy with this. He loved the fact that he could silently gloat over the fact that his son, could beat the crap out of his friends son's.