Inheritance Ch. 01: The Will

Disclaimer: The following story contains themes related WMAF raceplay and slavery. If this offends you, do not read on. All content below is a fantasy.

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As I sat in the lawyers room with all my siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, I thought about all my mixed emotions. Strangely lacking in all of them was a sense of grief or sadness. Although my grandpa had just died, I had never been super close to him. The only time I really saw him was around Christmas on the annual family trip, the occasional wedding, or other major event. We hadn't been ever been that close, with the only real time my grandfather showing interest in my life being when asking about his adventures abroad during my gap year in the Peace Corp in China. But that was almost a decade ago now.

"Johnny, I am surprised you came back so soon. Those Japs not showing Americans the love the way they showed us when I was there?" He had asked when I returned. I, like most of my family had long ago stopped trying to convince Grandpa the "Jap" was a racist word. Let alone that Chinese and Japanese people were different.

"Your Grandpa was born in another time, John," my father always insisted.

But back to the lawyers room. What was I really feeling? Relief. That was the main thought going through my mind. Not that I wanted my Grandpa to die, but because now the family drama could end once and for all.

You see, Grandpa had... money. Like "Fuck you" money. No one really knew how much, but most guessed anywhere from 100 million to a billion dollars. Most of which was made during the rebuilding of Japan after WWII. Grandpa had stayed over there for a little while after the war. He took all his savings from his days in the army and bought up some bombed out apartment block in Tokyo, and as the housing market in Tokyo boomed decades later, Grandpa rode that wave. Most importantly, as he always bragged, he sold at the right time.

As Grandpa got older, all my aunts and uncles started getting passive aggressive. Always wanting to be on Grandpa's good side. Everyone just wanted to make sure that when he passed away they got their cut of the pie. And to be honest, I always thought it was disgusting. And I could see Grandpa hated it too. No wonder he spent so much time shut in at home. Now at least everyone can see what they got and move on with their lives.

"I have gone through Mr. White's latest will, and compiled a list of assets." The Lawyer began speaking solemnly but professionally. "First and foremost, I will begin with Mr. White's Mountain Estate located here in Montana. Mr. White's will is very clear that the property, including the main house, it's contents, and all 2560 acres surrounding it, are to be inherited by his grandson, Master John White. Along with a Trust fund of 20 million dollars to help maintain the estate."

All eyes turned to me. Me? Why Me? I never even liked Grandpa's mountain home. Sure, it had stunning views of the valley and mountains, but it was in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Stunned, I stared around me at all my relatives looking at me. Some equally stunned, some confused, and almost all with daggers in their eyes.

The lawyer continued, "Along with the estate, Mr. White enclosed this letter for you John, with explicit instructions for it to be read by only you. Even I have not read it. It is to be read when you are alone and will have time to process this all. But he also stated it was important for you to read it as soon as possible."

The lawyer handed me the letter and then continued reading the will and all its parts. Everyone got something of course. Grandpa wasn't spiteful. But as the lawyer rambled on about the percentages and dollar values for each relative, all I could think about was what was in the letter? Would it explain why Grandpa chose me? Would it tell me why he thought I would want a mansion in the mountains instead of, you know, money? All I could think is that of all the grandkids, I was the only one still single. My older cousins all had kids of their own.

As soon as the meeting with the lawyer was over, I excused myself to retreat to my hotel room. I had to get out of there before my aunts and uncles started talking about all of it as if I was somehow guilty.

It was a brisk spring day in Bozeman, Montana. I had flown from my job in Los Angeles where it was MUCH warmer. Montana! Why would I want a home here? Montana was so boring.

And Grandpa, in his politically incorrect way, had been right about one thing, the women in China had been very... welcoming. Fine, I'll say it. They were downright easy. I don't like the word Yellow Fever. It seems too fetishy. But I had developed an appreciation for Asian women. Short, slim, straight black hair, and a bit submissive. What was not to like? And living in LA was great. I could date around. I didn't exclusively sleep with Asian women, but I did prefer them. But Montana? All white people... Why would I move here?

"Wait up, John!" I heard my cousin Eric shout at me on the street. Eric lived in NYC, and like my grandpa, I didn't see much of him. However, unlike with Grandpa, we got along. He was a year older than me, and unlike everyone else in our dysfunctional family, he didn't spend every waking hour of family gathering kissing Grandpa's ass and bickering with others.

"That was some bombshell, huh?" Eric continued, panting from running to catch up with me. "Did you have any idea that was going to happen?"

"Not a clue." I responded honestly. "Sorry. I was pretty stunned during that whole meeting. What did he leave you?"

"Twenty percent of his ownership of the real estate company. Worth a couple million dollars according to the lawyer." Eric said, fairly disinterested. "I figure I will sell the shares and use the money to buy an apartment in New York. But hey, what do you think is in that letter? No one else got a personal letter."

I liked Eric because I could tell he didn't have an ulterior motive. He had his job as an investment banker. He was married to a nice girl from a well off family, and didn't care about the money. Or rather, he so was off that he wasn't worried about money.

"I have no idea what is in it. I was heading back to the hotel to read it and hope it can help me wrap my head around all this." I responded.

"You want me around when you read it?" Eric asked.

"No, it said to read it alone. If that is Grandpa's final wish from me, I better honor it." I replied.

Eric seemed to respect that, and we walked back to the hotel in relative silence.

After getting to my room, I plopped down on the sofa, and looked out the window at the mountains. Montana. Fucking Montana... Why didn't Grandpa have a house in Malibu? That I could work with. Maybe Eric had the right idea. I could just sell the property and use it to buy a place in LA. But would that be disrespectful? All my relatives would for sure talk shit behind my back. Not that I cared. But surely Grandpa had left it to me for a reason. Which brought my attention back to the letter I was holding.

I guessed now was as good a time as any to find out what Grandpa has to say. I thought to myself.

I flipped the envelope over in my hand a few times looking at it. The only marking on it was "John" written in Grandpa's writing on the front. It felt thick. Like there were at least 5 pages of paper folded up inside. What would be so important that Grandpa had to wait until he died and tell me in a letter? After giving me his mansion and estate?

"Here goes nothing," I thought as I opened the letter. There was one page on top by itself, and then at about 6 more with a wax seal with Grandpa's initials on it. So old fashioned, just like Grandpa. I unfolded the first page and began reading. The first paragraph began:

Dear John,

I know you must be confused and surprised by what you have learned since my passing and the reading of my will. Sorry to say things will be more confusing. Before you begin, I must first apologize for putting you in this position. But for reasons you will soon discover, being the only unmarried heir, I could only leave my home to you.

First, I must again warn you, that the enclosed letter and instructions are for your eyes only. Letting anyone else read it would complicate things greatly. I am sure that the lawyer informed you that the home and land left you you have an estimated market value of 50 million dollars. As you will see in the letter, the value to me is much greater. And I hope you will find it much more valuable as well.

After reading this letter, understand that your whole life will change. Your view of me, your view of yourself and even your own values may change as well. But you must read the letter. Trust me when I say that it is a matter of life and death.

With that being said, I think in the long run, you will thank me. I hope you enjoy what I have left you, as much as I enjoyed it when I was alive.

Love,

Grandpa

Again with the secrecy. What could he possible have written that would be so bad for others to read? And 'Life and Death'? What did that mean? My head was spinning as I read over his words again. With no more clues to be found, and me being alone as instructed, I decided to break the seal and begin reading the rest of the letter.

John,

There is no good way to ease you into this, so I will just get right to the point. The true value of my estate is not in the house. It isn't the land either. It is the secret that lies in the mountain. You see, I brought more with me from Japan than just money. The purpose of this letter is to provide you with information about the TRUE value of what you have just inherited.

You see, my study in the basement has a bookshelf along the wall facing the mountain. Behind this bookshelf is a door that leads to a tunnel into the mountain. I went to great lengths to have this tunnel created in secret. I told the architect it was going to be a bunker or a safe room. He seemed to be unsurprised. Another paranoid rich guy, right? But what is located in the mountain is not a bunker. It isn't money, treasure, or anything else you may imagine either. Behind that bookshelf you will find my Asian Harem. 5 Asian sex slaves trained to serve me as their White Master.

Wait, wait wait... What?! Surely Grandpa is just messing with me. Asian Harem? What is this? The 12th century? Sex slaves? Grandpa could be politically incorrect. He could be a bit insensitive. But this was a churchgoing, god fearing man. Surely he was just having a laugh and pranking me. One last joke as he kicked the bucket? But there were still pages and pages here. Would he write all this, and give his grandson his house all as part of an elaborate joke? It had to be, right?

I kept reading:

You see, John, I couldn't give this to any of my children or grandchildren who are married. You can't keep a secret like this from a spouse. That is why I never remarried after your grandmother died. I started this project as a way of coping with her death. And as an added bonus, with your time in Asia, I am sure you developed an appreciation for the women there. Well, now you have 5 obedient Asian slaves to satisfy your every need.

This can't be real. There is no way Grandpa has had a secret bunker full of Asian women since Grandma died over 30 year ago.

I sat back on the sofa reeling. 'Sorry to say things will be more confusing.' Yah, no shit Grandpa. You left me your illegal harem as an inheritance? That is sure to cause confusion. But as I sat there, my head was just filling up with more and more questions. Where did the women come from? Who were they? How do they survive in the bunker?

But more that anything one question was lurking in the back of my mind: What am I going to do if this ISN'T a prank? I have to call the police right? So they can rescue these women. But that would ruin my Grandpa's good name.

I decided to keep reading. With any luck, the next page would be a 'Gotcha! It's all a joke.'

The letter continued:

Naturally, you have mixed thoughts. Society has taught you that slavery is wrong. You must release these women. You probably also feel that I would have to be a monster for this to be true. But before you make any decisions, go see the harem. It is important to know all the facts before rushing to a conclusion.

In the harem, Stella is the leader. She is the most obedient slave of mine. Or I guess by the time you are reading this it would be more accurate to say "slave of yours." She embraces her reality as my slave the most and helps keep the rest in line. Of course, you are the one who is really in charge, and she will obey your every command. She will be able to answer any questions you have that I do not answer in this letter. You should talk to her first.

OK Grandpa, jokes over. This is getting too real. Jokes over. Where are the reality TV cameras. There is no way this is happening to me.

Needing a drink, I got up and went to the minibar. I grabbed a beer and went back to the sofa where the letter was still sitting on the table. I had just started to pick up the letter and find my place when I heard a knock on the door.

"John, it's Dad. Are you OK in there?"

My heart skipped a beat. I rushed to the door and opened it just enough to stick my head out into the hotel hallway. Of course my dad was having a rough time with his father passing away. And now his son getting a massive inheritance probably just made things weirder.

"Are you OK? You rushed out of there pretty quickly. I know that must have been a surprise. I was surprised myself but.." He was rambling.

"Yes, I am fine. Just a bit overwhelmed." I interrupted with a lie. How could I tell my dad what I had just read about his father?

My dad, both concerned and curious, followed up with, "What about that letter? Have you had a chance to read it yet?"

"Not yet," I lied again, "I was just so dazed when I got back that I needed a beer." I motioned to the beer in my hand. Dad seemed to believe this, and he excused himself, starting to walk back to his room with my mother.

I felt guilty and called after him, "Dad, are you doing OK? If you need anything, you can let me know."

"Thank you son, I appreciate that." He said as he turned back towards his room.

With that I locked the door behind me. The surprise visit had interrupted my thoughts. But as soon as I saw the open letter on the table they all rushed back. What was I going to do.

'It is important to know all the facts before rushing to a conclusion.' That is what Grandpa had written. Maybe he was right. With any luck, this was all a ruse. Maybe I would wake up and it was all a dream. But I don't want to call the police, have them break down the doors of Grandpa's house (Or I guess, my house), only to find nothing and have humiliated myself. I resolved to finish reading the letter, then drive up to the house and see what is what.

The rest of the letter was a blur. My head was so jumbled that it was like the words were flying through my brain but not scanning. There were instructions for opening the bookcase, and a combination to the lock on the door to the bunker. There were instructions for how to keep the slaves, I mean women, well fed, exercised and in good shape. Then I got to the fourth and fifth pages. There was a brief introduction to each slave. Sorry, each woman. That is where I snapped out of it. These descriptions seemed so real. The more I read, the more I was dreading that this was all true.

Stella:

Age: 37 years old

Origin: Kyushu, Japan

Background:

She started off as a fling I used to hook up with back when I would travel back to Japan and visit business partners. Back then she was only 18 years old, and had just started working as a secretary for my business partner. She was very submissive, and I eventually convinced her to come to America and visit. That is when she "Disappeared mysteriously". Obviously you can guess what that means. She became my first slave. It didn't take as long to break her in as the others. Like I said she is very submissive.

Janet:

Age: 32

Origin: Shanghai, China

Background:

Vivian was a college student studying in California when she first caught my eye. She was at a bar with her boyfriend when I spotted her. I was there meeting with an investor, and I knew I had to have her. Long story short, I followed them home to find out where they lived. After that, with my resources, it wasn't hard to frame her boyfriend with her disappearance. Like Stella, she has adjusted well to her new life in the harem. She will not give you any trouble.

Sawako:

Age:28

Origin: Tokyo, Japan

Background:

I had Sawako brought over from Japan. Let's just say I have friends in the Yakuza from my old days as a real estate magnate. After acquiring a couple more western girls, I was thirsting for a more traditional oriental. Sawako fit the bill perfectly. She is more curvy than the other girls. Usually I prefer my slaves slimmer. But I think you will find her quite enjoyable.

Crystal:

Age: 26

Origin: Seoul, Korea

Background:

Crystal was here as a tourist. She caught my eye in New York. She was obviously having a good time. Drinking and enjoying the more open western culture. She was a complete tease, and I wanted to teach her a lesson. Needless to say I did. Not more teasing for her, she has learned to serve her master like a good slave. She will not give you any trouble.

Jane:

Age: 20

Origin: Chinese, but born in Toronto.

Background:

Winnie was my riskiest and most recent acquisition. She was 18 and in Seattle when I acquired her. She was the daughter of a business contact. After Stella, I promised myself never to take a woman I had direct ties to. Too risky. But I watched her grow up over the years. Seeing her every year when I would meet my business partner for dinner at his house. As she got older, she started to catch my eye. Each time I saw her, she was more and more beautiful. By the time she was 18, I just couldn't help myself. My health was deteriorating anyway, so I figured even if I got caught, I would die before the trial was over. Plus, who is going to suspect an old man? Anyway, breaking her in was my last hurrah. I enjoyed it greatly. She still occasionally has thoughts of freedom and might give you trouble. But I trust you will be able to handle her. A few more years and she will forget all about her prior life, I'm sure.

The final part took me off guard. I hadn't even thought about it. Grandpa wrote that the bunker usually has a one month supply of food and water, and that Stella was usually in charge of making sure all the girls ate and exercised in Grandpa's absence. But that it was VERY important that I got there as soon as possible to make sure they have enough food.

Thinking about it, I realized that it had been two and a half weeks since Grandpa died. We had the funeral and gave the lawyer time to figure out the will in that time. And before his death, he had been in the hospital for at least a week. I can't believe I hadn't thought about this as I was reading. Now the 'Trust me when I say that it is a matter of life and death' line makes so much more sense. I need to get out there and make sure these women have food to eat. Just thinking like that made me feel uncomfortable. Like I was late getting home and my dog would be hungry. But these weren't pets. Or were they?

In any case, I folded up the letter and put it in my coat pocket. After a brief trip to the grocery store to stock up on a month's worth of food supplies my Grandpa listed in the letter, I was ready to face the truth. I called a (very expensive) cab to drive me out to my new house. I spent the whole journey imagining what I would find.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I would experience when I arrived....