The Inheritance
(Introduction)
Most people nowadays are messed up mentally or emotionally in one way or another. You have the global economy, people losing their hard earned Dollar, Euro, Yen, or whatever, to the avalanche of corporate greed, causing them to take their frustrations out on themselves or their family. You have the those who are laid-off from a job they held for decades who now find it hard to even get a job at a local coffee shop, and the list of casualties go on and on. Then there are people like me, who have just been fucked up for years. I'm talking about emotionally. I'm not a rapist or pedophile, or murderer, just someone who by the hands of his own parents has been so morally corrupt; I just don't know how to live a normal life. Let me explain. Um, yeah, where to begin? Hmm. Now that I want to tell my story, it seems I don't know how to tell it. Fuck it, I'll just start from the beginning.
In 1965 my father began publishing a porn magazine in Europe. Three years later, on a scouting trip for in Brazil, he met my mother. One year later I was born, four years after that, the small hardcore magazine became an international sensation. It was the first to feature in its pages, everything sexual; nothing left to the imagination. My parents became very, very wealthy from this and flaunted their wealth in a lavish, overindulgent, flamboyant, sex crazed lifestyle. It was in this arena that I grew up. Most things I won't even divulge unless in the presence of a professional that can prescribe drugs.
When I became of age, I left home and moved from our families St. Tropez estate to the U.S. to pursue my education and to escape my overly permissive parents. Before I left home, I knelled before the Virgin Mary at St. Harold's Cathedral in ST. Tropez and swore I would never; live the life that my parents lived and sanely and voluntarily, took on a vowel of abstinence. No, I didn't become a Priest; I had just seen enough and experienced enough that scared me for the rest of my life.
In college, I became engulfed in studies and graduated at the top of my class, which landed me a job at the Investment Bank, Goldman Sachs. During my time in school and in the work force I never spoke a word to my parents. I never forgave them, for all the things they exposed me to. Which I would later regret. Thirteen years later, both of my parents died in a car accident, and even though I harbored hatred and anger, I still felt a since of guilt for not making amends.
During my younger years, my father taught me about the business of sex and, how to sell it, market it, publish it and distribute it. How to photograph it, how to produce it and how to film it, his dream, his goal, was for one day to have me take over the business. And now, his goal is being fulfilled.
I hate porn. I despise the business that preys on those who have no other talent than to perform the most abhorrent sexual acts for money.
So here's the deal. In order to inherit what my father has left me, which includes, multiple real-estate holdings from the French Riviera, to Copacabana, Brazil and a 450 million dollar trust, I and I alone must make his fledgling Porn Empire, rise again, pardon the pun. I have ten years to turn it into a multi-million dollar business or lose everything to a bunch of money hungry French Lawyers. Fuck is me!
Dr. Laura Watson, PHD. 55 W. 5th Avenue, New York, NY.
"So, how has your weekend?" Dr. Watson asks.
"It was uneventful. I went out to a couple of clubs, got laid and high."
"With Samanta?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did you have sex with Samanta?"
"No, she's out of town for three weeks."
"So, you had another affair?"
"A fling. Affair denotes some type of relationship."
"Says who?"
"I don't know, people."
"Have you told Samanta about the many women you have been with, when she is not around?"
"I really don't think she would care."
"How do you know?"
"You do know that she is in Porn?"
"Yes."
"So why would she care?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
Samanta Brione, a Vietnamese/French born woman, literally saved my life of self destruction when my parent died. She grounded me, stabilized me, cared and still cares for me and loves me. But yet, I just can't see remaining faithful to a woman whose profession of choice is Porn, and not that soft, Cinemax after dark stuff either. So every time she is out on location making a movie or whatever, I just lose it.
"She knows."
"How do you know?"
"I don't know, but she knows."
"How long have you been coming here?"
"Eleven years."
"During which time you have made some very good strides in making your life better, and helping you is..."
"Yeah, yeah I know." God I hated when she made me feel guilty. It was the same thing with my parents, she guilted me into forgiving them.
"Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?"
"When you don't want to hear something, you cut me off."
"Because I don't want to hear it."
"Do you love Samanta?"
"With all my heart."
"So why don't you act like you do?"
Dr. Watson looks at her watch. "Well times up. I will see you on Thursday."
As I left the office, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I looked at the caller ID and it was Samanta.
"Hello."
"Bonjour Sebastian!"
Hearing her voice, made me melt, even after all these months together, I never tiered of her French accent. My heart raced and pictures developed in my mind of her. I sighed lightly. And closed my eyes, "Hello."
The Inheritance
(Episode 1)
Impanema Beach, 1976
My father and I sat on deserted section of Impanema Beach, marveling at the morning sites, the women who come here, before the tourist raid. Now that I think about it, I do have many nice memories of just my father and I bonding...maybe not nice, normal memories, considering that most of the time we spent together, he was scouting for models, using me as a magnet. Son of a bitch!
"You see that one over there son?" he points to this woman emerging from the sea, like an Ocean Goddess, leaving her watery home to claim victory over the land.
"That is the type of woman that men melt over."
She was beautiful, stunning, and exotic and dripped with erotic sexual energy. I have to give my father credit for on thing, he knew how to pick women.
As Goddess left her watery home, she walked on the hot sandy beach, running her hands through her hair, exposing her naked chest. The only thing the eye could see on her was a small patch of white that covered her womanhood, attached to a thin piece of string. Even twenty something years later, I can vividly see her in my mind.
Aware of the gawking stares that my father and I gave, she glances over at us and smiles enticingly. She then lies on her blanket and offers her flesh to the sun god as a sacrifice.
Before I knew it, my father was talking to her exchanging information, no doubt telling her about his business. One thing that my parents loved about Rio was the endless stream of beautiful women, women that would do just about anything, to escape the poverty that was so prevalent, which is one of the many reasons I despise porn so much.
Goddess, the next day was at our estate in Copacabana, modeling for my father's camera. For eight hours, the first three, she was photographed in sexually suggestive poses, which in it self was beautiful. But my father's magazine was not known for beautiful images.
Most people have pleasant childhood memories, of baking cookies, flying kites and being taught how to ride a bike. I have memories of orgies and being taught what the correct camera exposure is for a cum shot.
My childhood wasn't a childhood, which is why those who know me are constantly telling me that I need to grow up and stop acting like a child. I may know how to make millions, but when it comes to the things that normal people enjoy and take for granted, I really don't think I can ever have. Yeah I may have a steady girlfriend, but what normal guy, has a porn starlet for a girlfriend? I know there are a lot of guys that dream of it, but in reality, it comes with a lot of baggage.
The first thing that I knew about turning this business into a multi-million dollar operation, was that I need a group of people who thought like me when it came to making money, and who were ruthless when it came to business.
First on my list was an old competitor of mine when I was with Goldman Sachs. Linda Hoffman, cost me and my firm over three years, three hundred million dollars, god knows how she did it, but all I knew was if she could steal that kind of money from some of the best investment bankers in world, then she could help me make this inherited business of mine, into a multi-million dollar operation. Beautiful, ruthless, cutthroat, and fowl mouthed, the king of girl that every guy dreams about.
