Succubus genie part 1 – Paradise bequeathed

“So why do I have to go to this will thing?” I asked my step mother, Erika. I was sixteen and my grandfather had just died; I suppose I was sad for the old guy but we had never been close so when she told me that I had to go with her to the reading of his will I wasn’t keen. It wasn’t going to the will reading that bothered me as such (though sitting in a lawyer’s office with my relatives and assorted ancients didn’t sound like fun); it was the fact that I had to go with her.

I call her my step mother but she wasn’t really any kind of mother and we both knew it; my real mother died about four years ago and a year later my dad married Erika. I could see that she was a manipulative, cold hearted, gold digging bitch but all my dad could see was a twenty six year old blond with firm breasts and a slim waistline. She was ok to me when my dad was around but he travelled allot so most of the time it was just me and her living in a suburban house. The only other people who came regularly were the cleaner and gardener both of whom were terrified of Erika since she threatened to sack them over trivial things (I did mention that she was a bitch).

“Apparently he left you something and you need to be there to pick it up so stop arguing and get in the car,” she answered irritably while reapplying her lipstick. Intrigued though still reluctant I got in. The car journey wasn’t too bad, forty minutes of girl bands on the radio punctuated by the odd comment wondering how much my granddad had left us wasn’t fun but at least she didn’t really talk to me. Finally reaching the lawyer’s offices the receptionist directed us to a conference room filled with about twenty or so people. Many of them I knew, allot of family were there of course, others I didn’t which wasn’t surprising since granddad went through four wives in his time and had six kids between them. Taking a couple of seats near the back we waited for things to begin.

After some more late arrivals traipsed in the solicitor who was in charge called everyone to attention and started off with some introduction which he probably gave every time before moving on to the will. It was pretty straightforward on the whole, the old man had outlived all of his four wives despite the last one being thirty years his junior so most of his estate was being split equally between his six children including my dad. What I was interested in though were the personal bequests and they didn’t come till near the end.

Granddad had been a pretty wealthy man and he had collected allot of strange and exotic things throughout his life; some of them were here, the ones that were too big had been kept in storage and would have to be collected later. When he came to my name I went up to the front, it was a small box. Slightly disappointed I picked it up and examined it; it was about the size of glasses’ case but it was made of some kind of dark wood inlaid with mother of pearl. It wasn’t locked but it was held shut by gold clasps.

“What is it?” I asked the solicitor who simply shook his head
“I don’t know my boy, Mr Jefferson left many things but he did leave this with the box, maybe it will explain.” With that he handed me an envelope with my name on it. As the lawyer was moving on to the next item I returned to my seat and opened the envelope. The letter within was hand written in the sure, strong handwriting of my grandfather, it was very short.


‘Andrew my boy I never took the time to get to know you well but of all my grand children you are the only one who will be able to truly get the most out of this. She was one of my most precious possessions as I am sure she will be to you. Use her well.

P.S. Open the box only when you are alone.’


It was signed D.F. Jefferson and that was that. More confused and intrigued than ever I resisted the urge to open the box then and there and wait until I was alone like the letter said. Not long after that the will reading was over and we headed back home.

Erika showed no interest in the box, in fact I am not sure she even saw it since I had it in my pocket. She was happy since another eighteen thousand pounds was going into her and my dad’s joint bank account so the journey was as pleasant as it was ever going to be but I was still eager to get home and see what was in the box.

By the time we got there it was about six O’clock and already getting dark since it was autumn. Leaving Erika to her aerobics (her waist was trim for a reason) I raced upstairs away from the stupidly loud music. Slamming the door to my room shut I rammed a door stop under there since there wasn’t a lock and took out the box.

The letter still had me confused as it had for the whole journey, ‘She was one of my most precious possessions’, I had heard of people calling boats ‘she’, cars too but I had never heard anyone talk about a box like that.