I sit on the deck of the little boat that i have hired to escort me to the island, re reading the letter from the french lawyers yet again. The letter, complete with travellers cheques for 4000 euros arriving at my sydney home had seemed too good to be true, but it all seemed to check out. I didn't think i had much of a claim to the inheritance, but what 21 year old girl would pass up a free trip all the way from australia to europe? And the lawyers had assured me that all potential heirs contacted had a right to put forward their claim. Not that i had any real intention of pushing my weak one. I was there for the free holiday.

True, my mother had occasionally made passing references to being descended from a french aristocrat, but any direct connection with them seems to have stopped hundreds of years ago, before the revolution, according to my grandmother. If i had thought about it at all i had assumed that the line had been wiped out with the revolution. Then suddenly his letter appears out of the blue. But don't these old families inherit through the male line anyway?

I fingered the pendant around my neck that i had been told to wear at all times. Weird touch, a bit melodramatic, like something out of a novel. And the key enclosed with the letter? Surely my passport would be a more effective way of proving i was a rightful claimant.

Lucky i wasn't taking the prospect of inheriting too seriously. I had dallied in France, enjoying my first trip to europe and a fellow young back packer, an English university student starting a trip on the continent. By the time i tore myself away from him and got to the port it was the date specified on the letter as the deadline for getting to the island. I had figured that wouldn't be a problem, but asking around at the docks, people seemed strangely reluctant to let me charter their boats. As soon as they heard where i wanted to go they turned strangely stiff, made increasingly implausible excuses, and hurried away.

After two days of searching i had finally found the owner of this little vessel. I was getting worried that if i didn't make it to the island soon the estate would try to claim back my travel expenses. So i used all the advantages I had. I stand 5 foot 3, and the lack of height high lights my curviness. My D cup breasts that would look merely large on a taller girl look huge on me, balanced out by the curve of my hips. Looking up at this captain, tossing back my long light brown curls and letting my big blue eyes fill with tears, i explained the urgency, stressing my distress at being alone in a foreign country. He gave me a strange look "You sure you want to go there Miss?". Why did people keep asking me that? I restrained myself from stamping my foot on the dock and assured him i did. So he charged me an exhorbinant price and lifted me from the dock onto his tiny vessel, letting his hands roam over me as he did so. The he jumped aboard himself.

After the way he had felt me up when he put me aboard I was a bit worried about being alone on the open sea with him. But he stayed at the wheel, and i sat at the other end of the deck, re reading my letter, checking my visa and passport. Mellissa Johnson, 21, of Sydney Australia. It certainly didn't sound like the last heir of a great french family.

The little boat stopped at a tiny wooden dock. I could see a house in the distance, it seemed quite large, with a few buildings scattered around it. That seemed to be all. I guess i had been assuming that there would be a town as well. I mean, people don't just live alone on their own island any more do they? It seemed so decadent.

"You're sure you want to get off here? A girl like you, all alone?" the captain asked me. Well if he thought i was going to invite him to escort me and have another grope he was wrong. "I'll be fine", i assured him, jumping up and gethering the papers and keys into a bundle that i shoved into my pocket. As i jumped up i heard the sound of metal striking the deck. I looked on the ground and saw a 20 cent peice. Well, i smiled to myself, that's of no use to me here. So I disembarked without further investigation, assuming that that was all that had fallen from my pocket.

I waved to the boat as it left. Then i turned around and tried to judge the distance to the house. It would be too much to expect a taxi I guess, I thought wryly to myself. There was only one road and it seemed to head towards the house, so wrapping my jacket tightly over my low cut top to protect against the sea wind, I started walking along it. I supposed that they didn't think anyone else was coming, although I had informed the lawyers I was having issues with transport and would be arriving late. Surely they would have sent a car if they were expecting me.....


Character: Melissa Johnson
Much prefer M/f play.
Hard limits: Scat, knife play, age play under 16, mutilation.

I hope I'm not to late to join in. If i am just tell me and i'll delete this.