Djinn Box Set

Chapter 1-4

Carrying an armload of magazines down the stairs, Riadh couldn’t help wondering what to expect from this man who now owned him. It would seem the man had no knowledge of magic or Mildred’s abilities or the way she had earned her living in reality. Riadh didn’t even know what the man’s name was. Perhaps he was allowed to ask? With a new master you never knew what might provoke anger.

“Master?” Riadh asked tentatively as he followed the man out the door to a big plastic container outside.

“Yeah? Don’t call me that. That’s…it’s disturbing.”

“What do you wish me to call you?”

“Dale. My name’s Dale Edinger. I’ll even answer to Lieutenant if you need a title to use, but I’d prefer Dale.”

Riadh nodded. With his arms full, he really couldn’t feasibly bow.

“Here, dump the magazines in.” Dale nudged the lid of the big container open with his elbow.

Riadh did as requested.

“Maybe I should ask. I’m assuming all the stacks of magazines are exactly what they seem, do I need to think otherwise?”

“I have never seen any of the items Mistress Mildred traded resemble magazines.” Riadh said.

“Okay. That’s good I think. Would you notice if you touched something that was…er, um…magic?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Good. I really want to clean out the room the box was in. Will you please tell me if I’m about to chuck something important in the trash?” Dale said.

“Yes, Dale.” The word Master was on the tip of his tongue and he only barely stopped from saying it.

They spent the next hour repeating the process, carrying loads of magazines down to the bin. Finally, Dale paused and flopped on the sofa in the living room. “I need a break.”

Riadh settled quietly on a nearby chair. He allowed himself a few moments to study Dale. The man’s short cropped blond hair was damp with sweat. Dale had a closely trimmed beard. His body was reasonably muscular and Riadh had had the pleasure of watching his firm ass as Dale had climbed the stairs multiple times. It had been more than sixty years since a master or mistress had requested physical pleasuring from him. A shudder passed through Riadh. No, just no, he who owned him before Mistress Mildred had enjoyed the fact that Riadh was immortal and used that fact to test the very limits of Riadh’s pain endurance. Maybe it was best not to even think of touching Dale.

“You okay?” asked Dale.

“Yes.”

“You just went about eight shades of pale.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so. I’m starving and in need of a nap. I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.”

“Do you want food?” Riadh asked.

“Pizza and a beer would be nice. There’s nothing but a couple of cokes in the fridge.”

“What kind of pizza?”

“Extra cheese with lots of mushrooms.”

Riadh passed a hand over the coffee table in front of him and a large pizza appeared in a plain white cardboard box.

“Wow, I thought you said you didn’t do wishes,” Dale said.

“Food is relatively simple magic. I can’t create you a car.”

“How ‘bout the beer? Six pack of Sam Adams?”

Riadh put his hand above a different spot on the table. The beer appeared.

“Hot damn.” Dale reached for the pizza and pulled off a slice. “Do you want some?”

Riadh hesitated. Food was not a requirement for him, but he did enjoy the taste. “I suppose.” He pulled off a slice.